A/N: Hope you guys like this one… Kurtofsky friendship, for sure.

Disclaimer: Drug use, angst, some confusing times ahead, and foul language. But hey, what's an fic without all that?

Kurt shifted his weight to his right foot, almost ready to either walk away or ring the doorbell again. He looked around nervously, not sure what to expect when the door opened. Finally, as Kurt took a hesitant step backwards, the huge white door swung open, almost hitting him in the face. "Hey, Dave says you can come on in!" Some guy he didn't know held the door open for him. He must have sensed Kurt's unease, because he laughed a little to himself. "Don't be nervous, bro. We're all chill here."

Kurt couldn't actually believe that he was willingly walking into Dave Karofsky's house, let alone walking in there alone. Dave hadn't told him to expect anybody else to be there, yet there were 3 other guys sitting on the couch in the living room when Kurt walked in. He sat on the only empty couch, not wanting to get too close to any of these strangers. It wasn't like him to be this nervous, but he wasn't sure what to expect.

When Dave had invited him over, he had mentioned something about weed and stupid TV, but he never said anybody else would be there. Even with all the progress Kurt and Dave had made, Kurt felt instantly uncomfortable. This was only made worse when Dave walked into the room with a blue and green pipe and a little baggie of what even Kurt could recognize was marijuana. The nerves shot up from Kurt's stomach to his lungs, and then around his heart. Maybe he wouldn't smoke this time, just watch. It seemed like the right thing to do, a peace offering, to accept the invitation over… but now he was having second thoughts.

He had heard a few things about smoking pot from Puck and Santana, but he had never actually seen anybody do it. Finn wasn't a big smoker, and neither was Blaine- although, the Dalton boys were known to be avid partiers. Regardless, he was sitting there completely prepared to look like an idiot no matter what he chose. He could always refuse a hit—is that what it's called?—and look like a lame-ass. Or he could attempt to smoke with the rest of them, and, well, look like a lame-ass.

The thing about Kurt taking the spot on the empty couch meant that there was a lot of space next to him. Of course, when Dave walked in the room, he took the most available seat—and jostled Kurt in the process. "Sorry, Fancy," he mumbled, holding the pipe a little higher in attempt to not spill the already-packed bowl.

"It's cool," Kurt choked out, hoping he didn't sound as worried as he felt. One of the guys across the room, some indie kid in a maroon cardigan and dark wash skinnies sitting on the floor, picked up on the tension and smirked. He's not the type Kurt would have expected to be over here, but all the same. The Cardigan Kid winked at him, running a hand through his thick brown hair.

"Alright guys, who has the lighter?" Dave put the baggie aside, steadying the hand that held the pipe. Cardigan Kid tossed a lighter in Dave's general direction, but it missed by a long shot and landed right in Kurt's lap. Given the circumstances, it might not have been an accident. Kurt rolled his eyes and handed the blue Bic lighter to Dave.

"Sorry 'bout it!" CK (Cardigan Kid) said, his face saying otherwise.

Dave turned to Kurt, his head cocked slightly to the side. "You done this before?" he asked, his tone for once sounding non-judgmental. Kurt shook his head, and Dave shrugged it off. The kid who had let Kurt inside laughed at him. This only made Kurt more nervous.

Surprisingly, CK came to his defense. "Shut the fuck up, Kyle. You don't know shit either!" he rolled his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw CK push himself up off the floor and walk across to wear he and Dave were sitting just a bit too close. "Lemme show him, Karofsky," he said reaching for the pipe.

Dave moved obediently and went to sit with the other guys. Kurt automatically scooted over so he wouldn't be sitting too close to CK, but the tallish boy sat close anyway. "Alright. Righty or lefty, kid?"

Kurt licked his lips, unsure of the answer. Of course, he knew he was right handed. But he was so nervous, he temporarily forgot. From the other side of the room, Dave spoke up. "Righty." For some reason, it didn't surprise Kurt that he knew. It should have, but it didn't.

"Okay, same. Hey, what's your name?" CK asked, handing the pipe and lighter off to Kyle for the time being. This confused Kurt, and it must've been obvious because CK supplied explanation. "You need to calm down a little before you learn how to do this, alright? So, kid, what's your name?"

Kurt's eyes widened as Kyle exhaled a large amount of smoke into the air. "Um. Kurt. I'm Kurt," he supplied, trying not to stutter.

CK snapped once to get his attention, and then raised his eyebrows. "Well, Kurt, I'm Thomas. So, do you think you're about ready to learn how to smoke pot?" Apparently, the pipe had already made its way around to Dave and the other two guys in the room. Thomas reached across Kurt for it, gently brushing his chest with his arm.

"So this is what you're gonna do, okay? Hold the pipe like… this," he held up his own hand around the bowl, "then put the end in your mouth, and when I light it for you, inhale like no other. Push the smoke into your lungs, don't hold it in your throat. Do this with your thumb over the hole," he showed Kurt what he meant again, "and then pass to me and exhale. Got it?"

No. Kurt most certainly didn't 'have it', but he nodded all the same. How hard could it really be? He brought the pipe to his lips, and waited for CK-Thomas- to flick the lighter on. Inhale inhale inhale, he told himself. When Thomas let the flame go, Kurt somehow managed to remember the thumb thing, passing it quickly to his weed instructor. As he exhaled, he realized what he forgot—pushing it down to his lungs. The smoke almost scorched his throat, leaving him hacking like mad. "Fuck me!" he yelled out between coughs.

Thomas let slender, somehow elegant, stream of smoke pass between his lips. With a wink, he said only one word. "Okay."

Which, of course, only made Kurt choke more. Which, of course, only made Kyle and Dave laugh at him more.

Someone passed him a glass of water, which he sipped quietly, receding back into the couch cushions. This wasn't fun anymore.