A/U: Blaine never transferred to McKinley and is a senior.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Kurt Hummel, for the umpteenth time that day, let out a slow shuddering sigh, wondering, not for the first time, why he had even bothered to get out of bed that morning. From the start he should have known that it would be a terrible day. He had fallen asleep at his desk the night before, which meant that his essay due forth period was not complete and slightly more importantly, that he had not done his moisturising routine. Worse than that was the fact that he had forgotten to charge his phone which conveniently died during the night. That meant that he had slept in way later than usual, waking up only when Carole, finally realising that something was wrong, checked on him. He had barely made it to school for homeroom, but whatever relief he had felt at that was short-lived since he had left that half-finished essay on his desk. He'd spent the rest of the morning re-writing it from memory during his classes, meaning that he would have to study extra hard that night to compensate, only to find, much to his horror, that his teacher was absent for that day, making all his work useless. And then, to round off his perfectly wonderful day, Kurt found himself in a face-off against his favourite bullies, the result being a ruined shirt, a few new bruises and a crushed ego. All of this led him to his current situation, sitting in his car in the school's parking lot, trying and failing to muster the energy to drive home.

"Why me," he whispered brokenly, resting his head against the steering wheel. "Can't anything go right today?"

Seconds later, he heard a splattering sound, and muttered an oath as he looked up to see a lovely deposit on his windscreen, courtesy of some bird with a wicked humour.

Cleaning that off with a napkin put him into an even sourer mood, but at least, it gave him the bit of energy needed to put the car into gear and hurry home before something else went wrong. Putting his phone to charge, Kurt made himself a quick and decidedly unhealthy meal, before dropping down in a heap on his bed to eat it. Normally he would not dream of doing such a thing, especially since the sheets were new, but right now, he could not give a damn. Depositing the dirty wares on the floor beside him, Kurt flopped down against his pillows, pulling one to his chest as he closed his eyes, willing the day to just be over. Eventually he managed to drift off into a troubled sleep.

A combination of things woke him up. It might have been the fact that he was smelling food that definitely had not been in his room when he had drifted off, or it might be the fact that someone's hand was slowly but firmly stroking his back in a comforting motion. No, it definitely was the voice humming lightly in his ear and the whiff of cologne that only one person he knew wore. Kurt's eyes flew open at that thought, and he stiffened, only to freeze when the humming stopped and a warm voice whispered, "It's only me Kurt, don't panic. I had not meant for you to wake up this way."

"Blaine?" he asked, in a sleepy yet somewhat confused tone.

What on earth was his boyfriend doing here in his bedroom, far less in his house?

"Finn called," he murmured, as if reading his mind. "He told me that you'd had a rough day, and so I've come bearing food, dvds and of course, my handsome self. One of these things is bound to make this day all better."

"But how did he know?" Kurt inquired, shifting so that he was on his back, looking up at the curly haired teenager, lying beside him, the hand that had not been on his back, propping his chin up. It was not as if he minded. He had planned on calling the Warbler when he had woken up, but still, it wasn't as if Kurt had seen much of his step-brother that day.

"Apparently your fashion speaks for you," Blaine replied, with some amusement. "Finn came home to change before going on a date with Rachel, wanted to ask you for wardrobe advice and saw you in his jersey. Apparently you only steal clothes when you're upset?"

Kurt's face flushed red at that and he tugged at the said clothing. He had not even noticed that Finn had realised it. Normally he would not be caught dead in ill-fitting unflattering clothes like what the quarterback, and even his father wore, but whenever he was discontent or downright unhappy, it felt…good to be wrapped in an abundance of cloth. It was like if someone was surrounding him in a hug, and since it wasn't as if he could walk up to Finn or dad and demand affection without answering awkward questions, this had to do. His father had chuckled the first time he had seen him in one of Finn's things, saying that one of the benefits of marrying Carole was that his own clothing would be a bit safer. He had deliberately used Burt's clothing for a while after that, but today, Finn's room had been much closer. Honestly, Kurt supposed that it would only be a matter of time before he stole some of Blaine's clothing.

"So cute," Blaine cooed, pecking his cheek briefly, before continuing to speak. "He took your phone and called me, figuring I'd be able to cheer you up. So I came over. Thankfully he was still home; you would not believe what he had thrown together as semi-formal clothes."

"Please tell me you straightened him out," he groaned.

"I did. You would be proud and Rachel's sight will be eternally grateful. Anyway, I waited about an hour but when you still wouldn't wake up, I ordered us dinner. And since I didn't want it to get cold, I decided to wake you."

"You're too good to me," Kurt murmured, twisting enough to place a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.

"You deserve it," he returned sweetly. "Come on, let's eat."

The pair chatted amiably over the Chinese food, Kurt flushing several more times as he lost his grip on his chopsticks. He was usually quite graceful with them, but, nothing ever seemed to go exactly right in terms of co-ordination whenever his boyfriend was in close proximity to him like this.

"What now?" Blaine asked, after he returned to the room after throwing away the boxes.

"I don't know, how long can you stay?"

"How late can I stay before your Dad decides to kick me out?"

Kurt laughed at that. "I'm quite certain that Finn's spoken to him by now, and seeing that he and Carole always go to the late night show on a Friday, as long as we sneak you out of here by eleven, you should be okay."

"Good," Blaine said with a grin, startling Kurt by grabbing his wrist and tugging him forward so that he tumbled down onto his chest.

By the time he regained the breath knocked out of him, Blaine had organised his body as suited him. His upper torso was lying fully on the older teenager, his ear pressed against his heart so that he could hear the strong sturdy beats there. One of Blaine's arms was wrapped securely around him, while the other had claimed a hand, bringing it to his lips so that he could press soft kisses against Kurt's fingers.

"Blaine," Kurt whimpered, as a warm feeling crept up his body. He felt safe, and more importantly loved as he cuddled in his boyfriend's arms.

"So, you want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked eventually.

Kurt sighed, absently grasping a bit of the fabric of Blaine's shirt in his fingers before he spoke. "I just had a really bad day, that's all."

"And Blaine is making it all better?" he asked with false hopefulness.

"Dummy," Kurt laughed, "Blaine has made it all better. I love your cuddles."

"And I love giving them."

"Only to me?"

"Of course. Which reminds me..."

"Hmm?"

"I'll have to bring you some of my clothes the next time I come over. As cute as you look in oversized clothing, I'll like it even better if you were in some of mine."

Kurt's breath hitched at the possessive edge to his boyfriend's tone, and shifting slightly so that he could see his face, he saw that his liquid brown eyes also radiated the emotion. He swallowed convulsively; briefly overwhelmed by the thought that someone loved him to this extent. He had not believed it possible, but here he was, lying in Blaine's comforting arms.

"I love you," he murmured, the weight of his emotions in his voice as he kissed Blaine's collarbone, before moving upwards to kiss his lips gently.

Blaine rumbled in pleasure beneath him, a hand pulling him back down when he made to pull away. Shuddering in delight, Kurt allowed Blaine entrance to his mouth, and could only moan helplessly as he ruthlessly but lovingly plundered it, leaving him dazed and out of breath when he finally freed him. Kurt could do little more than bury his head into the crook of his neck, feeling Blaine's hot breath wafting over him as he laughed at his shyness. It was a bit embarrassing that, after dating for at least five months, he still reacted with such innocence to a heated kiss, but Blaine found it entirely endearing, easily brushing aside his embarrassed babble a few weeks ago that at the rate he was going, they would not make love until they were ninety.

"I'm not in a relationship with you for your body sweetheart," Blaine had countered with a reassuring smile, as he lifted Kurt's rosy head so that he could see his face. "And hey, I believe I've said it before. That is what masturbation is for."

Kurt's startled squeak had caused him to laugh loudly, and Kurt had pounded on his chest in retribution, but still, he had taken his words to heart.

"I love you too sweetheart," Blaine finally said, drawing him back to the present.

"Honey?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Can we forget the dvds you brought? You're the only entertainment I need."

Blaine's only response was a soft kiss to his forehead before he tucked his head beneath his chin and started humming again. Kurt's lips curled into a soft smile before he closed his eyes. He was willing to endure a few bad days, if he could guarantee that they would all end with him in a position like this.