Blaine is right. Strawberry-flavored Smirnoff is fantastic.

Giggling, Kurt knocks back another shot and leans against Blaine's side, reveling in the warmth from the alcohol spreading through his chest as well as the small fire in the fireplace in front of them. Blaine's house is gorgeous and empty and Kurt kind of loves it. It's like their own, in the future maybe.. They're about halfway through a fifth, and Kurt shakily gets the shot glass on Blaine's coffee table and is about to pour his (fifth? sixth?) shot when Blaine tugs the bottle out of his hands because he sucks and is an awful boyfriend, the asshole.

"Nonono, bring it back!" Kurt makes grabby hands but the alcohol messes with his balance and he tumbles into Blaine's lap. Kurt growls against Blaine's jeans and sulks, head starting to swim. Being drunk is awesome and shitty at the same time. He nuzzles into Blaine's thigh, thoughts fuzzy but content. It's so warm here. Blaine's dick gives an interesting twitch near his face and Kurt eyes the jean-enclosed bump appraisingly. Sex can feel amazing, Kurt knows. He kind of wants to do that for Blaine, but…

God, it's so hard to make sense of his thoughts when the room won't stay still. Kurt growls to himself because it's so hard to think. And thoughts hurt. When he thinks, he remembers the hearing and Mrs. Karofsky and David and his friends and he just wants it to stop, leave me alone!

"No more shots for you, sweetheart," Blaine says sternly, sounding way too coherent for a guy that's had just as much to drink as Kurt. He actually laughs at Kurt's pathetic attempts to glare. "Trust me; you'll thank me in the morning." And then, because Blaine is an asshole, he takes a swig himself, though he coughs after swallowing.

Kurt sits up and tries to ignore his spinning head. Those shots were starting to catch up to him. "I'm depressed and traumatized and you are supposed to be getting me drunk." Kurt works his face into a pout because he knows Blaine can't resist him like that. Sure enough, Blaine's eyes flick down to Kurt's lips and that blush doesn't have much to do with alcohol. Blaine swallows hard and oh, that is attractive. Kurt watches the muscles in Blaine's throat move and he really wants to—

Woah. Kurt flushes at the decidedly non-PG thoughts making themselves known in his head. They involve Blaine, under him and panting, and way less clothes.

He presses a hand to his forehead and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to calm his breathing because shit, he's simultaneously turned on and scared as hell. Kurt's a fucking teenager, he should be jumping at the chance for sex but he can't get past that damn block in his head. A picture of Sebastian and his sexy texts and stupid smirk pops into his head and Kurt scowls at the cup that gets thrust into his hand.

Fucking Sebastian. He's not going to be part of tonight. No. Kurt wipes him from his mind. "What's this?" he asks Blaine instead, lifting the cup.

"Sprite and vodka." Blaine says in explanation. "We might as well finish this shit since Mom's gone for the night and I can't exactly hide this, but I don't want you taking any more shots. Drink slowly, and tell me if you feel sick." Ignoring that last part because Kurt really just wants to forget, he drains half the cup in a single gulp.

It hits him like a sledgehammer right after and Kurt starts laughing because he doesn't care about anything. Fire rushes through Kurt's veins as he really looks at Blaine for the first time since the attack.

Blaine is fucking attractive in the soft firelight; Christ. Wide eyes blown with small traces of lust, some alcohol, and a lot of love. A tight shirt showing off a narrow waist and gorgeous arms. Thick, curly hair that feels amazing when fingers run through it. Kurt's breathing picks up as he looks at Blaine, not hearing a single word Blaine's saying and instead focusing on how perfect this specimen of boy is.

He just really wants to kiss Blaine.

And he waits, but nothing changes. There's no David Karofsky; grinding into him and sucking on his neck and trying to kill him; no faceless media painting him as a whore; no judging eyes mocking him for daring to be gay. Just Blaine and his gorgeous face and arms and body and shit he wants Blaine so bad.

It's the alcohol that gives him courage and it probably won't last, but Kurt Hummel wants to make out with his boyfriend and he's going to take every second he can get.

Blaine's still saying something stupid and irrelevant when Kurt puts down the cup and grabs Blaine's shirt to yank him in for a kiss before Blaine can react. The slight buzz in his head messes with Kurt's coordination and he winds up getting the corner of Blaine's mouth until Blaine catches on and slots their lips together.

Shit, Kurt missed this. He grins into Blaine's mouth, drowning himself in the faint taste of strawberries and the feeling of Blaine's hands threading through his hair and resting on his waist. Blaine gasps into his mouth and Kurt feels a sharp thrill of want shoot through his body and then he's climbing into Blaine's lap and straddling his waist and he's thinking of nothing but Blaine and love and Kurt kind of wants to cry from how perfect it is.

Fuck everyone. Just fuck them. Kurt Hummel is in love with Blaine Anderson and wants to mess around with him and he is tired of being scared. Not anymore. The alcohol burns through him and everything is hot and heavy he can't even think but Kurt really doesn't care as he pushes Blaine to the floor and gently yanks on Blaine's thick curls to get him to tilt up and open his mouth for Kurt, grinding down slightly and gasping at the sharp thrill of pleasure shooting through his cock and up his spine.

"Oh, fuck, Blaine," Kurt can barely get his thoughts coherent with the lust and fucksohot running around his head, but he has Blaine under him and he's rolling his hips down and thrusting and then their cocks slide together perfectly and Blaine sucks Kurt's tongue into his mouth and this must be why everyone is so obsessed with sex because it's beyond words.

Kurt thrusts again, harder, and Blaine's hands squeeze at his ass and then one slips under his shirt and presses against hot, sweaty skin and Kurt's is completely lost in ecstasy and bliss and soft whimpers and breathless moans and godsofuckinggood until Blaine suddenly shoves him off. Kurt lets out a completely undignified squawk as he falls back on his ass and glares at a relatively debauched Blaine.

"What the fuck Blaine?!" Kurt snaps, because hello, they had a good thing going, what was up with Blaine?

Blaine shakes his head, breathing heavily and sitting up, purposefully away from Kurt. "You're drunk."

"Well no shit, Blaine, you're the one that wanted me to be," Kurt growls and leans in to catch Blaine's reddened lips between his own, but then Blaine pushes him back again. "Blaine!" Kurt glares at his idiot boyfriend.

"Kurt, wait." Blaine's expression is tortured and full of longing, but he rubs his face harshly. "Fuck. Come on, Kurt. You can barely kiss me sober."

Honestly, Kurt's not following. He's drunk, like really drunk, and horny, and not thinking about the attack for the first time in like, ever. He wants this. He wants to be fucking normal for once and have some kind of sex with his damn boyfriend like every other teenager in a relationship in the country and Blaine won't let him because he sucks. One look at Blaine and Kurt groans angrily. Blaine is totally going to hold out and it's for some stupid reason, Kurt just knows it. "I want to do this now, when I'm not thinking so much." Kurt crosses his legs in a huff, wincing at the sudden swimming in his head with the movement. Figures the one time he can be normal and sane Blaine decides to grow a conscious. Kurt crosses his arms and glowers at the fireplace.

Blaine slides up next to him, one arm winding around his waist and head resting on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt keeps himself stiff and tries to slide his shoulder away but Blaine just hugs him closer to his side and Kurt gives up with a huff. Fucking starfish.

"You're making decisions for me again." Kurt snipes. "I told you not to."

"Who said this is because of you?" Blaine shoots back, eyes flashing in anger. "Not everything's about you, Hummel." He sits up and scoots away from Kurt, grabbing the bottle and looking like he's considering just downing the last few ounces himself.

Kurt is taken aback at the sudden anger in Blaine's tone, but then he sees how Blaine's eyes have gone big and watery and shit. Something else is going on.

"Hey." Kurt fights past the vertigo in his body and leans over to take the vodka from Blaine's hand. He lets it go without a fight, and Kurt can't help himself from stroking down Blaine's arms a few times before holding his hands. He just really likes Blaine's biceps.

Kurt shakes his head to get his thoughts back on track.

"Come on, Blaine. What's that mean?"

"Nothin'," Blaine mutters, but he won't look at Kurt.

"Blaine."

"Christ, Kurt, can't you leave me alone for like, five seconds?!" Blaine shouts and tries to stand, but he's too dizzy and he falls back on his ass with a frustrated groan. "Fuck."

Hesitantly, Kurt reaches over and slowly rubs Blaine's back. He's always liked it when Blaine does that. Blaine doesn't say a word, just glares at the crackling fire in the fireplace. It's dying down now, both of them long ago too drunk to dare put another log on.

"My first time…" Blaine sniffs and growls at himself. "My first time kind of sucked." He says bluntly.

Kurt just waits.

"It was like…two years ago? Three?" Blaine shook his head. "I don' know. It was right before I started dressin' like this and stealing Dad's booze. I'd literally just come out, like the week before, and Dad was just yelling at me and calling me a fag and whore and a cockslut an' all that," Blaine glances at Kurt. "And fourteen-year-old me decided it would be a fantastic idea to go out and prove him right." He laughs bitterly. "If I'm gonna get called that kind of shit, might as well earn it, right?"

"Blaine…"

He shakes his head. "I know, it was stupid. Anyway, I was going to this fancy boarding school at the time and I knew one of the seniors was gay and thought I was cute so I went to his room and let him get me smashed and then we were in his bed." Blaine fiddles with his fingers. "It wasn't bad or anything and it kind of hurt, but he was nice enough. It's just…I felt like shit after."

Kurt's throat is tight with trying not to cry when Blaine's red-rimmed eyes drag up to meet his.

Blaine tugs on his earrings. "Look, I wasn't ready then. I just wasn't, and it fucked me up for a while. I must have slept through, like, half of Dalton by the time Dad pulled me out, and I was a borderline alcoholic. I hated myself for that. For using sex to get back at my dad instead of for me, you know?" He looks at Kurt so pleadingly that Kurt can only nod. "I just don't want to be something you'd ever regret," Blaine mutters, sniffing and trying to mask it with a cough.

"You couldn't be." Kurt says instantly. "But…"

"I don't want to take advantage of you." Blaine admits quietly and Kurt turns his head to look at him surprised. Shrugging, Blaine sighs. "I ain't stupid, Kurt. If you weren't completely shitfaced, you'd be borrowed under a blanket or somethin' n' kicking me out of the room if I tried to have sex with you." Blaine traces a random pattern on Kurt's knee. "I'm not that guy." He says stubbornly.

Kurt feels a little like the floor's been yanked out from under his feet and he drops his head to rest on Blaine's soft curls, breathing in Blaine's scent. He's right, so completely right, Kurt's such an ass. He's not ready for this, he knows that, and it's unfair to use Blaine like that to force himself to be.

"You're way too good for me," Kurt sighs. He feels Blaine snort next to him, and Kurt laughs a little. One day he'll convince Blaine he's actually the greatest person Kurt's ever met. One day. But they're way too hammered to have that conversation tonight, so Kurt changes the subject. "Never thought I'd see a drunk you that turns down sex, though," Kurt comments, glancing down at Blaine's fairly obvious hard-on.

"Yeah, my dick kind of hates me right now," Blaine says, looking at his crotch sadly.

"Least you aren't making out with Rachel this time," Kurt quips, laughing at Blaine's groan. He's over that. Mostly. Won't stop him from teasing Blaine about for a while though because Kurt is kind of a bitch. He smiles innocently at Blaine's mock glare.

"You're hotter than her. And have the right plumbing." Blaine says cheekily before sidling back up next to Kurt. The fire gives a loud pop. The red cup sits innocently on the table in front of them and Kurt decides to hell with it, and leans over to grab it, taking small sips. He holds it out to Blaine, who shakes his head and leans on Kurt.

"Thank you, Blaine." Kurt says quietly.

Blaine just shrugs but threads their fingers together. They watch the fire slowly die down.

Tomorrow, they'll have to go back to school. And Kurt will have to face his idiot friends, the ones who stood up for him and the ones who want him gone.

But for tonight, he's with his boyfriend. Who's kind of amazing. Kurt stands up, a little wobbly, and grabs the soft fleece blanket from the couch. He drapes it over himself and Blaine, shifting in close.

It's a little warm and itchy, but he's next to Blaine. The alcohol and the warmth from the flames make him sleepy and Kurt starts to doze, listening to Blaine's soft breathing.

"Love you, Blaine."

"Love you too, Kurt."