Hey readers! I haven't posted anything in forever, so I got inspired pretty easily! This cute little oneshot is inspired by Grouplove's Tongue Tied. We've got a healthy dose of Hummelberry friendship and (obviously) Klaine. Enjoy!

Kurt Hummel really hated parties. Too much alcohol, loud music, and inhibited judgement. He stayed as far away from the teenage social scene as possible.

Until the one time Blaine Anderson decided to host a party at his supposedly huge house and get Kurt to be there. Kurt declined as long as he could, but in the end Blaine's puppy-dog eyes proved too much.

As he drove to Blaine's house, he chatted halfheartedly with an animated Rachel.

"I mean, I know he's your best friend, and I know I kissed him and all, but you've got to admit that he's kind of perfect. Not as perfect as me, of course. But I mean he's cool."

Kurt muttered a sarcastic agreement under his breath.

"Yes, Rachel. I know you kissed him and stuff. And yes he's great. But it's not like anything's going to ever happen. You remember I told you about that guy at the Gap? I'm pretty sure it takes more than a week or two to get over something like that."

Rachel giggled.

"It's a party, Kurt," she sing-songed. "You never know what's going to happen."

Kurt stifled a groan.

"Please, Rachel. Don't get my hopes up."

They lapsed into an easy silence, Rachel smirking at him from the passenger seat. As they drove the winding roads into Westerville, the sun began to set and paint the sky in vivid orange hues. Eventually they reached the turn-off that would lead them to Blaine's house. When they reached the house, the two teens gasped.

"Holy shit. He's loaded!" Rachel squealed.

Kurt just stared open-mouthed at the huge house he was driving toward. They parked in the loop near the fountain- yes, a fountain- and they walked up to the front door. Blaine appeared moments later, a grin splitting his face in two.

"Rachel, what a surprise! And Kurt, hey. Glad you could make it."

Kurt shifted awkwardly, his cheeks slightly reddened.

"No problem. Rachel practically made me."

Blaine laughed.

"Anti-social? I'd have never guessed."

Blaine opened the door wider, beckoning them inside. Kurt nearly balked at the stench of booze and sweat, but he pushed it aside. The throbbing bass of some catchy pop tune reverberated through the fancy flooring, and Blaine's house was full of dancers jumping and grinding against each other. Kurt wrinkled his nose slightly. When Blaine took notice, he quirked up a corner of his mouth.

"Not much for their style of dancing?"

Kurt shook his head.

"No. It's my inner awkward gay boy. He craves romance, not whatever this is."

Blaine nearly doubled over.

"Inner awkward gay boy? I've never heard of such a thing."

Kurt smiled.

"It's like that nerdy side of me that only comes out when I'm reading Vogue or watching Project Runway."

Blaine made a sound of affirmation.

"Come on, Kurt. I'm getting thirsty, and I imagine you could use a drink or two yourself."

Kurt started to protest, but pushed away rational thought.

"What the hell. It's only a couple drinks."

Two hours later, Kurt knew he was a bit drunk. Maybe more than a bit. He found himself on the makeshift dance floor, throwing his hands up wildly and without fear. Kurt understood the appeal of parties at that moment, the shared heartbeat of feet drumming on floors and beats pounding to meet them. Blaine watched Kurt with an amused grin. Kurt managed to dance his way over to Blaine, his wild blue eyes meeting Blaine's calm hazel ones.

"Blainey, aren't you gonna dance with me? You're like, my best friend. My really hot best friend. And I wanna dance with you."

Blaine laughed.

"Fine. I'll dance with you. But only because you're drunk and kind of adorable."

Kurt beamed, his face lighting up in a way only describable as drunken glee. Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand, pulling him toward the center of the crowd. As soon as he deemed their location acceptable, Kurt began to dance again. Blaine started by awkwardly bopping, but seeing Kurt the way he was made him calmer. He let the music push into him, letting loose and feeling free.

"There you go, Blainey. See, you can have fun."

The song shifted into something slower and calmer, and couples began to pair off. Kurt cast Blaine a wicked smile before collapsing against him, arms finding a place to rest against Blaine. Kurt's voice was raspy, his breath hot in Blaine's ear. He shivered involuntarily.

"C'mon, Blainey. Let's show these idiots how it's done."

They danced. Even in his drunken state, Kurt was an excellent dancer. The song ended far too soon for Blaine's taste, and he reluctantly pulled away from Kurt. His eyes were closed and his usually immaculate hair was a mess, tousled like it had been windblown. Blaine began to step away, but Kurt grabbed his wrist.

Kurt was pulling him closer, and Blaine could feel their breaths mingling between them.

"Blaine. I suck at this kind of stuff. But I'm kinda drunk and I'm not thinking straight at all, so I'm gonna say this stuff now and if you hate me tomorrow at least I'll know I tried."

Blaine smelled the fruity cocktail on his friend's breath, orangey and sweet.

"I really like you, Blaine. Not just as my best friend. I mean, you're obviously my best friend. But like, more. I wanna go out with you."

Blaine sucked in a harsh breath.

"Damn it, Kurt. I was going to ask you. You think I didn't know you hate parties? You think I invited you here to just socialize with drunk as all hell teenagers?"

Kurt grinned lazily.

"I guess you won't mind this then."

Kurt pulled him forward the last little bit between them, drunkenly kissing him. Blaine pushed his hands through Kurt's messy hair, feeling the soft hair he'd practically dreamed of touching.

Blaine pulled back, gasping softly and resting his forehead against Kurt's.

"I guess this means parties don't suck so much anymore."

Kurt laughed.

"Never again, not after that."

They kissed again. And again.

Across the room, Rachel smiled.