I'm must say, I'm kind of surprised by just how popular the first part of this fic is. Considering it took me like ten minutes to write...

Anyway, here the much requested second and final instalment.
I meant to publish this sooner but I couldn't get to any internet. Because my life is just that interesting.
And this still isn't even smutty. I'm kind of impressed with myself.

Reviews would be nice :)

Also, do I even need to say that I own nothing?

You'll Regret It In The Morning – Part Two

Kurt managed to get out of Rachel's house without anyone noticing. They were all way too drunk. He didn't want anyone to stop him or ask where he was going or if he was okay. He just wanted to go home. Dave was leaning against his car when Kurt got outside, his arms folded, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else in the world. But he was here, and that was the important thing.

"Hey, boozehound."

Kurt didn't say anything. He was too nauseous to talk. He allowed Dave to help him into the passenger seat and put his seatbelt on for him without a word.

"You better not throw up in my car, Hummel."

Kurt just groaned, leaning his head again the window.

"Where do you live?" Dave asked, setting up his SatNav.

"I'm surprised you don't already know that," Kurt whispered.

"What?"

"Don't pretend like you don't stalk me and follow me home, closet case."

Dave glared at him. Kurt took the SatNav and typed in his address himself, handing it back to Dave with an innocent smile.

"I hate you," said Dave.

"No, you don't."

"I seriously hate your guts."

"No, you don't. You love me."

"No, I – forget it. I'm taking you home so this nightmare can end."

Dave started the car and drove off. There was hardly any traffic because it was so late at night, and Kurt's house wasn't that far away. Kurt was still lent against the window, half asleep. He couldn't get the image of Blaine and Rachel out of his head. He knew that they were drunk and they'd only been playing Spin The Bottle, but still... it hurt to watch, especially directly in front of him. It made him feel so incredibly crappy, like when he had to watch Finn kissing Rachel or Sam kissing Quinn. It was as if every guy that he'd ever had feelings for would always rather make out with a girl than him, even the one guy that was actually gay. In fact, the only person that he knew wanted to kiss him was... Dave. Apparently. He felt like crying again.

Dave looked over at Kurt every so often, wanting more than anything to just pull over and hug him. He looked so small and fragile, and he definitely looked like he was going to cry. But instead Dave continued to drive in silence until he was right outside Kurt's house.

"Thanks," said Kurt quietly, although he made no attempt to get out of the car.

"No problem."

"Can you come inside with me please?"

"Into your house? Why?"

Kurt just shrugged.

"I think your Dad's going to be pissed enough as it is, you coming home drunk and all. Why do you want to make it worse?"

"For your information, my Dad and Carole are out of town, and I have a feeling Finn won't be home tonight. I have the whole house to myself. Don't act like you don't want to."

"Okay, I'll come inside with you. Be only to make sure you don't like, fall down the stairs or something."

"It's so sweet that you care, Davey."

"Shut up."

As they made their way into the house Kurt could hardly walk in a straight line. They went into the kitchen and Kurt slumped on a chair, resting his head on the table. Dave looked inside all the cabinets until he found a large glass, filled it with water from the tap and set it down in front of Kurt.

"Here, drink this. It'll settle your stomach and make your hangover tomorrow morning a little less painful."

Kurt sat up, picked up the glass and took a few sips, staring intently at Dave.

"What?" Dave asked. He hated getting stared at.

"Nothing..." Kurt whispered. "It's just... you have surprisingly pretty eyes."

"Wow, you really are wasted. Drink your water."

"You're blushing."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're embarrassed because I paid you a compliment. Because you love me."

"For the last time, I don't love you, Hummel."

"Yes, you do. That's why you're here tonight. You could have hung up once you realised it was me on the phone. But instead you let me ramble and cry at you. And you came to take me home. And you're here right now looking after me. You couldn't be any more in love with me if you tried."

Dave shook his head. "Drink your water."

Kurt took a few more gulps of his water, and Dave waited until he finished the whole glass.

"You should go to bed," he finally said. "And I better get home."

"Aren't you going to come and tuck me in, Davey?"

"I think I like you better when you're sober. Go to bed. Sleep it off."

"You said you were going to make sure I didn't fall down the stairs. My bedroom is downstairs. Do you really want that potentially fatal injury on your conscience? What kind of knight in shining armour would that make you? A really crappy one, that's what."

"Okay, if it'll shut you up! God, you talk a lot of crap when you wasted..."

Dave followed Kurt down to his basement bedroom, holding on to his arm every time he seemed like he was swaying a bit too much. Once they were down in his room, Kurt took off his jacket and threw it on a chair, kicked off his shoes and collapsed on a bed.

"I probably shouldn't sleep in my clothes," he muttered to himself. "This is shirt Alexander McQueen after all. It's going to get so creased, but... I don't care right now."

"Okay, I made sure you got down the stairs alright. I'm going to go home."

"Wait."

"What's wrong now?"

"Don't go just yet."

"Why?"

Kurt sat up shakily, kneeling on the bed and swaying slightly. He gestured for Dave to come closer and he did.

"I haven't thanked you properly."

Kurt took hold of both of Dave's hands, pulling him closer, before wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him on the lips. The kiss was hard and passionate and sloppy, and Dave knew that he shouldn't but he couldn't help but kiss Kurt back, softly holding onto his hips as Kurt's fingers ran through his hair. Kurt's hands steadily moved lower, down Dave's chest to the waistband of his jeans, and clumsily started trying to unbuckle his belt. Dave gently pushed Kurt away, holding onto his wrists to stop his movements.

"Stop."

"Why?"

"I can't do this, Kurt."

"Why not?"

"You're drunk."

"So?"

"You're going to regret this tomorrow."

"You don't know that."

Kurt lent in for another kiss, but Dave stopped him.

"Please... don't."

"Are you honestly telling me you don't want to?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all, trust me. I'd love for this to actually happen at a time when you're sober and you really want to. But I can't take advantage of you."

Kurt suddenly started to cry again, sobbing quietly. Dave wrapped his arms around Kurt, holding him tightly, his heart beating a little faster as Kurt held him too.

"I just want someone to want me..." Kurt whispered against Dave's shoulder.

"I'm not going to take advantage of you while you're drunk, Kurt. Especially while you're still pissed about what Blaine did at that party. I don't want you to regret anything."

"You've been so wonderful tonight, Dave. Looking after me... not taking advantage even though I've basically thrown myself at you... why couldn't you have been this nice all the time?"

"I ask myself that question every day."

"If you'd always been this nice to me it would have saved me an awful lot of trouble. I never would have had to go to Dalton and leave all my friends and be at a school where I have to wear the same outfit as everyone else every single day. You have no idea how depressing that is."

Dave chuckled, pulling away and wiping the tears from Kurt's face.

"You love me, Dave. Why won't you just admit it?"

"Just because I won't admit it doesn't mean it isn't true."

"You know, your eyes really are beautiful."

Dave laughed again.

"You're also very cute when you smile, Dave. You should smile more."

"Go to sleep, Kurt. You're going to be a wreck tomorrow."

Kurt kissed Dave on cheek. "Thanks for making tonight a little less horrible."

"Don't mention it."

Kurt lay back down on his bed and Dave covered him with the duvet, brushing his hair out of his face.

"Goodnight, Davey."

"...goodnight, Kurt."

Dave stayed until Kurt fell asleep, which didn't take long, and made his way out of the house and back into his car, his chest feeling tight and a lump in his throat. He sort of wished he could forget everything that happened tonight, but he knew he never would. When he got home he saved Kurt's number on his phone. Just in case.

Kurt woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and several missed calls and texts on his phone asking where he'd disappeared to. After changing out of his crumpled up Alexander McQueen and rushing off to the bathroom to throw up, he stumbled upstairs to make himself an enormous cup of coffee, and two random thoughts popped into his head. First, that he was never, ever, ever, in a million years going to drink ever again. And second, that Dave Karofsky had really pretty eyes. Later that day, just before Finn finally got home, Kurt saved Dave's number on his phone. Just in case.

Hope you enjoyed, Humble Readers.
REVIEWS ARE LOVE.

xxx