Kurt wasn't sure how it actually started.

He wasn't actually sure about a lot of things at the moment but what he did know was this: he's a fucking lightweight.

Well, that's what Santana told him, anyway. It must have been true, because he could kind of see two of her, and who knew that whatever fruit flavored goodness Santana had procured from her parents' liquor cabinet would actually taste good?

Rachel was draped over him, her head resting on his shoulder. She kept going on and on about how much she loved him and Finn, and how New York was going to be the best thing ever. Kurt couldn't help but agree and then spin the conversation to Blaine. Blaine, who he missed. Blaine, who he loved. Blaine, who he was going to -

“Am I talking out loud?” Kurt asked, cutting himself off in mid-sentence.

“Yes,” Mercedes answered, giggling wildly.

“Ooops,” he laughed. Mercedes cracked up, doubling over with laughter.

“No,” Santana protested. “I was so close.”

“Why do you want to know what Blaine and I do anyway?” Kurt asked. “We’re gay.”

“Blackmail,” she replied.

“How Machia-Machi – clever of you,” Kurt stuttered.

“We,” Rachel suddenly boomed, making Kurt flinch when she shouted in his ear. “We should play a game.”

“Like what?” Santana rolled her eyes.

“Like, ‘I Never’,” Rachel suggested. “I’ll go first.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Santana sighed.

“I’ve never kissed a girl,” Rachel laughed, glancing at Kurt.

“I hate you,” Kurt muttered, taking a drink. He saw Santana and Brittany do the same and realized that the rumors of them being together might not be that far off.

Santana and Brittany took their turns (streaking and skinny dipping, respectively) and then it was Kurt’s turn.

“I’ve never made out with anyone who wasn’t Blaine,” Kurt said, cackling at his own cleverness. Every single one of the girls took a drink and then Santana proceeded to pelt Kurt with candy from the mini-bar.

“I’ve never had sex,” Rachel whispered loudly, like she was confiding a secret.

“The way you dress, we can see why,” Santana commented, taking a sip. Brittany drank too, but Kurt hesitated.

“Define sex?” Kurt asked, his face red.

“Any activity done with the intent to bring one or both of you orgasm,” Santana told him with an arched eyebrow.

“Okay, then,” Kurt muttered, taking a drink.

“I knew it!” Santana crowed. “I freaking knew it.”

“I’ve never given a blow job.” Mercedes took her turn. Once again, Kurt, Brittany and Santana drank.

“Aaaahhh,” Rachel squealed at him. “What was it like?”

“No way!” Kurt exclaimed. “Not happening.”

The girls groaned in protest.

“I-I have already revealed too much,” Kurt decreed. “I am going to bed so I can be awake to ravish Blaine in the morning.”

With that, he stumbled over and climbed in one of the beds and promptly passed out.