“No way, Berry! After you completely sabotaged Nationals last year, I'm petitioning Mr. Schue to only give you half a vote in any Glee Club decisions.”

Mercedes's voice powered through the music that filled the room, and Rachel's retort matched her decibel for decibel.

“It was one time. One time. I think my record with this club speaks for itself.”

“Oh, yes, let's bring up your record. Jesse St. James, anyone? We could have beat Vocal Adrenaline the first time if –”

“How can you even say that? Quinn was practically in labor on the stage!”

“Now you're blaming Quinn?!”

Kurt squirmed on the hard sofa and craned his neck, searching for Blaine in the crowded room. Finn, sharing an armchair with Rachel, looked equally desperate for an excuse to get up and leave. Puck, who never needed an excuse to do anything, for some reason was still with their little group, leaning forward on his chair to take in every word of what was quickly becoming a de facto diva-off.

Finally Kurt spied Blaine weaving toward them through the crowd. He waved frantically, grateful for the distraction. Blaine's face bloomed into a happy grin when he saw Kurt. Too happy. Blaine's smile had a very particular quality when he'd been drinking. Not that Kurt was judging. He'd had a wine cooler himself, and was feeling pleasantly loose and hollow-legged but in perfect control of all his faculties, of course. Going off the grin, he wasn't sure the same could be said for Blaine.

“Blaine!” Rachel exclaimed as soon as she saw him stumbling their way. “Back me up. Remind Mercedes why every group must have its star and why I still hold that position despite my minor aberration in New York.”

“He wasn't even there!” Mercedes protested. “He has no idea what you . . .”

Kurt decided to ignore their argument in favor of reaching out a hand to help steer Blaine's fall onto the couch. He'd definitely been drinking.

“Hi,” Blaine said, still grinning at Kurt. “You're beautiful.”

Okay, yes, that made Kurt's belly squirm in a very good way, but he knew how Blaine could be when he'd been drinking so he put on his severe face. “Are you drunk, Blaine?”

“I may be just a little bit drunk yes.” Blaine was still smiling like a lovestruck puppy, which made it very hard for Kurt to keep up his severe face. His breath smelled like strawberries and warm alcohol and should not have been as kiss-enticing as it was.

“What's on your face?” Kurt ran a thumb over the smear at the corner of Blaine's mouth.

Blaine grabbed his hand and held it up; his eyes swiveled side to side as he tried to focus on Kurt's thumb. “Strawberry,” he said. At least Kurt thought that was what he said. He didn't manage to pronounce any consonants after the “s.” “Or maybe salsa? Did I have salsa?” He stared at Kurt as if Kurt might have the answer.

“I have no idea what you ate, Blaine.”

“Lemme see . . .” Blaine pulled Kurt's thumb closer and sucked it into his mouth, licking at the pad with his tongue. That definitely made Kurt's belly squirm, although at that exact moment he realized that the conversation around them had died and the music had dropped from throbbing hip-hop to tender ballad. Which meant everyone heard it when Blaine pulled Kurt's thumb out of his mouth and said, with what Kurt suspected was a drunken attempt at a leer, “Delicious. And I don't mean the strawberry. I mean you.” His impossible eyebrows wiggled up and down like hyperactive wooly bears.

Someone giggled. Kurt pulled his hand out of Blaine's and took hold of his face, forcing Blaine to look at him. “Blaine, sweetie, we're at a party right now. Not alone,” he said significantly.

“Not alone?” Blaine asked with wide, soft eyes.

“Look.” Kurt turned Blaine's head in Rachel's direction. Rachel was pressing her lips together the way she did when she was trying not to laugh out loud. “There's Rachel.”

“Hi Rachel.” Blaine wiggled his fingers at her.

Rachel wiggled back. “Hi Blaine.”

“And Finn,” Kurt said.

“H'loo Finn.” Blaine's voice went deep and serious.

“Blaine.” Finn put on a serious face to match Blaine's voice.

“And there's Mercedes.” Kurt moved Blaine's head in her direction.

“Mercedes! You have an amazing voice,” Blaine breathed.

“Yes I do,” she nodded.

Kurt turned Blaine's head a little farther. “And Puck.”

“Yikes!” Blaine exclaimed.

“Yes, yikes. Exactly.” Kurt gave Blaine's head a quick tour of the rest of the room. “And people. Lots of people. People dancing, people drinking, people talking. People.”

Blaine pulled his head out of Kurt's grip then leaned close to him to stage-whisper in his ear. “Some of the people are kissing.”

This time Kurt recognized the giggle as Mercedes. There was also a snort from what he feared was Puck's direction. He took Blaine's face between his hands again and stared deeply into his eyes. “Is there anything I've done in all the time you've know me that would lead you to believe that I'm the kind of person who would make out with his boyfriend at a party in front of other people?”

Blaine tried to shake his head. “No. That was a lot of words. Why did you need so many words, Kurt?”

“So can you please be good and sit here with me until you're . . . better?”

Blaine nodded between Kurt's palms. “I can be good. I'm a very good boy.”

That was definitely Puck's snort. Kurt winced, but he kept his eyes on Blaine. “How about you just . . . don't talk for a while.”

“Okay. But can I hold your hand?”

“Yes! Perfect. Hold my hand and just be here with me, okay honey?”

Blaine nodded again, earnestly. “Okay.” He reached up and took one of Kurt's hands from his face and twined their fingers together. Then he shifted around so he could lean his head on Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt faced his friends and their spectrum of reactions with a tight smile. “Sorry. When he's drunk he gets a little –”

“Horny?” Puck offered. His voice shook with suppressed laughter.

“Clingy,” Kurt said pointedly. “He gets clingy.”

“No,” Blaine slurred against Kurt's shoulder. “He's right. I get horny.”

If the heat Kurt felt in his face was anything to go by, he was pretty sure he was turning purple. “No talking, Blaine. Remember? No. Talking.”

Blaine raised wide eyes to Kurt's. “Right. Sorry.” He pressed one finger, still tangled with Kurts, to his lips. “Shhhhh.”

“That's right, sweetie. Shhhh.”

“Sweetie,” Blaine said, nestling back down, “that's me. Because I'm –”

“Shh!” Kurt's shush was markedly sharper this time.

Blaine stayed silent, so Kurt turned back to his friends. Again. “Mercedes does have a point, Rachel. You kissing Finn on stage made us national internet laughingstocks.”

“Oh my God. I cannot believe you are saying this to me, Kurt Hummel –”

“Thank you! It's time somebody talked some sense around here besides –”

Kurt didn't much care whether Rachel or Mercedes was right; his only mission was to get the spotlight off of himself and his drunk and very decidedly horny boyfriend. He'd been impatient with their argument before but now he leaned back and let it spin around them, offering the occasional word to two to keep the fireworks going. If he was lucky Blaine would fall asleep on his shoulder and by the time he had to wake up to leave maybe he would have regained some of his usual sense of propriety.

Blaine curled their joined hands up to rest on Kurt's chest and nuzzled against them. Blaine loved to nuzzle, even when he wasn't drunk.

“Finn," Rachel said, "please remind Mercedes who got us to Nationals in the first place because I . . .”

Blaine's nuzzling was getting . . . nuzzlier. And turning into little kisses pecked against Kurt's knuckles. Which was fine. Kurt could totally ignore that and if it kept Blaine quiet . . . but then the lips parted and the pecking turned into . . .

Kurt stifled a gasp and looked down at their hands clasped together on his chest. Blaine was sucking gently on the knuckle of his index finger, staring up at him through those thick eyelashes. Kurt would have glared, but he wasn't sure if a glare would discourage Blaine or only spur him on. He decided it was safer to ignore it and return to the conversation.

“You have to admit Rachel and Finn went through a lot last year. You can hardly blame her for –”

Mercedes flung eye-daggers at Kurt. “Don't you even try to give me that true love excuse. Rachel has more self-control than anybody when she wants to. She just can't resist drama, drama, drama . . .”

Blaine's tongue snuck out and flicked over Kurt's knuckle, then around to lick along the outside edge of his index finger.

Heat curled again in Kurt's belly. His hands were so sensitive; Blaine knew that. And apparently wasn't above using it to advance his agenda. His horny agenda. But no one else seemed to have noticed what he was doing. Rachel and Mercedes were still going at it, Finn was still trying to disappear into the chair behind Rachel, and Puck was . . . well honestly Kurt had no idea why Puck was still sitting there. And it was much too hard to try to figure it out when his head, fueled by the little alcohol he'd had, was starting to spin along with Blaine's tongue on his skin.

“. . . as long as I'm singing and since Finn is already my boyfriend I won't have any reason to stop singing will I?”

“How am I supposed to trust that? After everything you've put us through maybe you'll decide you want Puck instead and make out with him next time.”

“I could be totally down with that. My kisses would definitely bring home the win. Wouldn't mind a little dry humping either . . .”

“Shut up Puck!” both girls commanded, finally finding common ground.

“Well excuse me! You're the ones who brought me up.”

Blaine slipped his lips around the tip of Kurt's finger and sucked it into his mouth.

Curling heat blossomed into flickering flame and Kurt gulped down a surprised cry. Fortunately everyone else was still oblivious, everyone except Blaine, whose body shook against Kurt's like he was laughing. Of course he was laughing. Drunk or not Blaine knew exactly what he was doing. The problem was that if Kurt reprimanded him he would call attention to it, and the odds were high that Blaine would say something else terribly inappropriate. As long as nobody knew what was happening, it was safer to let him do his thing.

The only problem with that was that Kurt was afraid Blaine's thing was giving him an erection. His stomach was flip-flopping in time with the wet strokes of Blaine's tongue along his finger and he knew he must be blushing scarlet. It was a good thing the room was dark and the throbbing dance music had resumed, thank God, because Kurt was sure he must be making little whimpering sounds. He hadn't learned how not to make those sounds yet; it was all too new.

And then Blaine shifted on the couch and never mind Kurt's dick, this was definitely giving Blaine an erection. Kurt could feel it poke against his thigh. Feeling Blaine's hard dick was still overwhelming when they were alone – Kurt was so not ready to be doing it in front of all their friends. And then he realized Blaine was moving, subtly, a tiny press/release against his thigh.

Dear God in heaven, Blaine was humping his leg. Right here on the sofa. And not even the fact that at any moment everyone around them could decide to pay attention and notice it could deter Kurt's own erection from swelling to full power because Blaine's tongue was hot and agile and Blaine knew Kurt's every secret erotic weakness and now he was licking Kurt's palm in short, teasing strokes and humming or moaning – Kurt couldn't tell which but he could feel the vibrations against his sensitive, sensitized skin . . . he needed to get them out of here right freaking now, if only he could figure out how to do it without clueing everyone in to the fact that his evil drunk boyfriend was trying to make him come right there in front of them.

“Is everybody having an amazing time?!” Sugar appeared behind Finn and Rachel's chair. “Have you tried the sushi buffet? It's to die for I promise!”

The whole group as one turned in Sugar's direction. Blaine took advantage of that fact to untwine their hands and suck Kurt's middle finger into his mouth, deep, discarding all pretense and flat-out fellating. Pleasure snaked up Kurt's arm and desire spiked in his balls and oh he was in so much trouble but he didn't want Blaine to ever stop.

“Oh my God, what is he doing?” Sugar again, and Kurt opened eyes he didn't remember closing to find everyone staring at them.

“Holy crap!” Puck choked and laughed at the same time.

Blaine, mid-downstroke, didn't even bother to pause. He swallowed Kurt's middle finger like he wanted everyone to know how far he could get parts of Kurt's body down his throat. Which, considering how drunk he was, he probably did. And just because the fellating wasn't humiliating enough, Blaine was still humping too, rubbing his dick shamelessly against Kurt's thigh. Yet even under the shock and disbelief of their friends, Kurt's erection refused to flag.

“Jesus! When he said horny I didn't think he meant horny!” Puck said. This time he was laughing more than choking. Everyone else, Rachel, Finn, Mercedes, even Sugar, had been stricken speechless. They gaped like fishes in a net.

“I have to go to the bathroom?” Kurt made it a question, thrown desperately in Sugar's direction.

Sugar didn't even try to close her mouth. She pointed a manicured finger across the room.

Blaine was still happily eating Kurt's finger, but Kurt pulled it free, caught Blaine's hand and dragged him up and off the couch. They fled as fast as Kurt could make Blaine's wobbly legs move. Blaine hung heavy as an anchor from Kurt's hand as they navigated dancing couples toward the bathroom. Kurt knew he must be imagining the laughter that followed their retreat. The music was too loud to hear anything at all. No. Still, he breathed a sigh of relief when he'd dragged Blaine through the bathroom door and slammed it shut behind them.

Blaine's head wobbled on his neck at their sudden stop but when it finally came to a rest he smiled at Kurt and said with perfect clarity, “Are we alone now?”

Breathless from his retreat, Kurt nodded.

Blaine pulled Kurt's hand back to his mouth and sucked at his pinky.

“Oh for God's sake,” Kurt protested, fumbling at the lock with his free hand, “stop kissing my fingers and start kissing me!”

Blaine was more than happy to comply. "Anything for you," he breathed and pushed Kurt up against the door, erasing humiliation and fear with the reverent touch of soft lips and the taste of warm alcohol and sweet, sweet strawberries.