Kurt was sitting quietly next to Blaine, whom was dozing on Kurt's arm. He hadn't drank anything, but he had a pounding headache. Finn opened the driver's door to the van and started the car. They had just dropped off Brittany and the only one left was Blaine.

"Kurt, where does Blaine live?"

"Er, he lives somewhere by St. George Street." St. George was on the other side of town.

Finn groaned. "Kurt, I'm tired. It's after two in the morning, way past our curfew, and I don't want to drive anymore."

Kurt had forgotten his license, Blaine was crazy drunk, and he was not willing to make Blaine go home in a filthy taxi. Finn was Blaine's only way of getting home.

"Well, what's he going to do?" Kurt asked, indicating Blaine.

"Can't he just stay with us for the night?" The thought had never occurred to Kurt– well, maybe it had, but only in his fantasies. Have Blaine sleep-over? In his house? In his bed?

Finn could already tell Kurt's mind was made. Without waiting for a reply, he pressed the gas and headed home.

"So this is where you live, huh?" Blaine asked as they climbed the stairs, heading towards Kurt's room. Blaine had his arm draped around Kurt, but he was still stumbling everywhere.

"Yes. Could you keep in down? I don't want to wake my dad," Kurt gently whispered.

"Sorry, Pumpkin Pie," Blaine replied, giggling uncontrollably. Kurt rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

Kurt lead Blaine to his room and gently shut the door. Blaine let go of Kurt and looked around the room. He nodded his head, approvingly.

"Nice room," Blaine muttered. He took a step forward and collapsed down on Kurt's bed, instantly falling asleep.

Kurt headed into the back part of his room where he changed into his silk pajamas. Blaine might be able to sleep in his street clothes, but Kurt, certainly, could not.

Kurt walked back to his bed and stood, watching Blaine. He looked so innocent, just lying there. Watching Blaine, Kurt just wanted to lie down and curl up beside him.

And why shouldn't I? Kurt thought. It's my bed.

Drowsiness instantly swept over Kurt. It was already 3 am. Kurt decided to skip his face washing routine for the night, something rarely done. He was just too tired tonight.

He walked over to where Blaine was laying and pushed Blaine's legs over the lump of blankets settled on his bed. Blaine was out cold: he didn't even flinch. Kurt pulled the blankets up and over the sleeping boy, stopping by Blaine's face. Kurt was mesmerized by the beauty. He looked so insecure, so pure, like an angel sent down with the most beautiful lullaby. Not quite sure what he was doing, Kurt went down onto his knees, so they were eye-to-eye.

I could kiss him right now.

Kurt slowly leaned forward. Was this it? Finally, a kiss between the perfect angel and himself? He stopped as soon as their noses touched. No, he decided. No, this wasn't what he wanted. Kurt pulled away. He didn't want his first meaningful kiss to be with a sleeping boy. He wanted Blaine to know. He wanted Blaine to kiss him back.

He could wait, Kurt decided. He would wait.

Kurt walked over to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside Blaine. Their bodies weren't touching, but he could feel Blaine's warmth. An urge washed over Kurt. He placed his mouth right above Blaine's ear, almost touching.

"I love you, Blaine Anderson."

Kurt slowly backed away, turned over and instantly fell asleep.

Blaine opened his eyes and instantaneously shut them again. It was too bright and it burned.

Blaine couldn't remember where he was. All he could remember was the party, the music, the singing, the alcohol and Rachel. Oh God, Rachel...

He pulled the unfamiliar blankets over his head and flopped over. It was then he realized someone was lying beside him. He carefully opened his hazel left eye, not knowing what to expect.

Blaine let out a mental sigh of relief. It was only Kurt. It wasn't anyone that he would regret.

A second thought crossed his mind. Did they—? Blaine quickly glanced down and let out another mental sigh of relief. He was fully clothed. Nothing happened. All is well.

He reshut his eye and tried to remember what had happened the night before. He remembered quite a bit, but he still could not recall where he was. He assumed it was Kurt's house, but he knew what they said about assuming.

Blaine reopened his eyes and looked around for a clock. As soon as he lifted his head off the pillow, a sharp pain zoomed straight to his head. He flopped back down, but he managed to glance at a clock. 7:03. Much too early to be awake.

Just then, Kurt let out a soft moan and rolled over. Blaine tensed as Kurt's knees pressed against his own. Kurt was so close... Blaine could hear his heart beat.

Kurt's heartbeat was like a soft lullaby. It was more soothing than anything Blaine had ever heard before. The quiet th-thump, th-thump was like a song, written specifically for him. He felt like a child, pressed against his mother's chest, slowly falling asleep.

Blaine's headache though, would not cease. At times like this, when he was at home, he would cuddle his favourite bear and play his favourite Beatles songs.

While he could not listen to the Beatles, there was something he could cuddle. No, he thought, he couldn't do that. It was Kurt. But, Blaine wanted to. At this moment, it was all he wanted. Blaine felt his heart quicken as he reached for Kurt and slowly pressed the boy against himself. Kurt's head rested perfectly on his chest. He carefully squeezed his arms around Kurt, holding him tight.

There was something familiar about this. Something familiar and extremely comforting: much more comforting than the bear. The rhythm of Kurt's and Blaine's breathing was a perfect harmony. Their hearts, beating as one. It was the most beautiful lullaby.

I could get use to this, Blaine thought as sleep carefully wrapped her arms around him and pulled Blaine away.