The first time Kurt wakes up his head screams at him.
The second time he wakes up a voice is screaming at him. “Kurt I swear to god you need to wake up right now.”
“I’m awake,” he grumbles, shielding the morning rays seeping through his room’s window with his arm.
“And you say I’m a handful when hung over,” the voice says, and Kurt snaps up against his body’s wishes.
“Surprised, huh?” Blaine stands at the foot of the bed wearing a pair of sweats, arms crossed in front of him. “I guess last night was a little fun, huh?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Kurt grumbles. “I don’t remember anything from yesterday.”
“I mean, I remember you bailed out of the group heading out to ski because you felt bad for me.”
Blaine looks at him with a faint smile. “I didn’t think you should be alone. Just because you didn’t want to reinjure your ankle…”
“You of all people should know how clumsy I am, and it finally stopped hurting from my accident a week and a half ago.”
“But you needed someone, even if it was me.”
A memory hits Kurt. “Oh my god. We raided the minibar and had a Disney marathon.”
“You’ve got to admit our duet of "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" ranks high up there.” Blaine finally sits down by Kurt. “And then you actually wanted to build a snowman, but he didn’t look right. You wanted him to be more athletic--why, I don’t know, it’s not like either of us are really that.”
“Can I blame Sam?”
“Of course,” Blaine chuckles. “It’s his bachelor weekend anyway.”
“So then what happened?” Kurt asks.
Blaine hesitates. “There’s some Advil on the nightstand, you might want to take that before I tell you the rest.”
Intrigued, Kurt reaches over, pops two pills into his mouth, and takes a sip of water from the tumbler set next to them. “Thank you,” he says.
“Any time. So um...I think we were restless after the snowman and we decided to get out of the resort and see what else is around Lake Tahoe. And one place...stood out, I guess.”
Kurt arches an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
Blaine takes a breath and hands Kurt a slip of paper he’d been holding. Kurt takes one look before dropping it.
“A marriage license?” Blaine nods. “But this doesn’t mean anything. Maybe we just wanted it for fun.”
“Kurt, look at your hand.”
He looks down and--there’s a silver ring, two fingers in. “Holy shit. This can’t be happening. You’re punking me, aren’t you?”
“Okay first, does anyone even use Punk’d as a reference?” Blaine asks. “And second, do you really think I would trick you like this? It’s not like we didn’t talk about it enough before…”
“Yeah, before when we thought we’d be together forever! Now we actually are.”
“Not necessarily. We can annul it.”
Kurt shakes his head. “We’ll talk it over later. I need a shower. And some time alone.”
“I understand. But this is my room, not yours.”
He sighs. “How far away?”
“This is 312. You’re in 408.”
“Shit,” Kurt groans, flopping back on the bed.
“I can get your things if you want?” Blaine offers. “I’m assuming your key card is in your wallet?”
Kurt nods. “Thanks for the offer.”
Blaine stands up and shuffles across the room, grabbing his purple NYU hoodie off the desk chair where it had been tossed and pulling it on. He finds Kurt’s jeans in front of the bureau and fishes the wallet out. “Just so you know?” he says as he turns around. “I wouldn’t want to be married to any of my other exes.”
Kurt smiles faintly, not wanting to disappoint his new husband. “Me either.”