Types of Drunks

lawlipopsicle

Blaine turns straight. Kurt turns into man-whore. They had never met before this night.

I don't own Glee.

This idea popped in my head when my friends and I were talking about the different types of drunks and how some gay men turn straight. Then I realized that's what Blaine is and I thought Kurt needed a type of drunk as well. Add in a background story so it's not strictly porn and you've got this story.

Dear Diary,

The day finally came. I have been dreading this for years, you know that. I tell you everything and you know how much I DID NOT WANT THIS TO HAPPEN. I'm sure you, diary, my only companion who would never betray me like some others, know what I am referring to. My friends finally decided to meddle in my love life.

I know, diary, it has been a year since my last steady boyfriend and the five guys I've been on a date or two with since failed me. But you are clearly aware of the many, many hours I spend working on my designs! I have a very demanding job and it's not my fault that Charles, Robert, Mike, Kevin, Tony and Peter couldn't handle my work schedule! And besides I don't really want to date. My job comes first and as, my idol and inspiration, Lady Gaga says: "Some women choose to follow men, and some women choose to follow their dreams. If you're wondering which way to go, remember that your career will never wake up and tell you that it doesn't love you anymore." And by women, she also means gay men who are this close to making it to Fashion Week in Paris as a main designer!

So no, Mercedes, I do not need a boyfriend. Yes, I'm super happy for you that you finally found yourself a boy and yes, I know you want me to be just as happy as you are. But believe me, darling, I don't need a boy hanging off my arm to be happy. I don't need my friends walking in on me making out with a boy any more than I need to be walking in on you and David having a right ol' time on the couch.

At least you're clothed a good percent of the time.

As I was saying, diary, my friends, especially Mercedes, decided that Kurt Hummel should not be single anymore and decided to hook me up with one of David's friends. Not just any friend, like an acquaintance you know but just say friend to avoid social awkwardness that you say hello to when you see each other, maybe stop and ask how they are, but don't bother to pick up the phone any other time to check in. No, this Blaine kid is one of David's best friends. They went to elementary, middle, high school, and college together. Even Mercedes has met him.

She claims we're meant to be together. We just scream soul mates, apparently. She says he's dapper as anything and dresses sharply. She says he has a sultry singing voice and can charm the pants off of a mannequin. She wants us to meet at a party David and his friend are having to celebrate Blaine moving into the Big Apple.

I know there will be alcohol there. I look forward to it, in fact. I know what you're thinking, diary. Kurt, you are a terrible drinker. You're a lightweight and you turn into a man-whore and so far you've slept with almost all your guy friends and it's a wonder they're still friends with you so you better quit before you get hurt.

Yes, diary, I am aware. But I've been thinking. From what Mercedes has been telling me, Blaine is a gentleman. A straight up gentleman. Chances are he won't want to be with a man-whore. If I'm running around giving a bunch of guys lap dances and trying to make out with anyone with a dick, he'll think I'm a terrible human being and refuse to date me.

When love comes, I'll know it. I don't want it to be forced upon me by my friends. I told them that I don't want them to try to fix me up and this is what they'll get.

Journal,

It is June 22. It's been two weeks since Nate dumped me and already David wants to set me up. I'm grateful for all the things he and Wes have been doing in the past two weeks to help me get over my most recent heart break but I don't want another boyfriend. It hurt real badly, my break up with Nate. I've always been one for relationships. Ever since I came out in high school, I've always had a boyfriend. The longest I've been single has been… well two weeks. But Nate was my longest with four and a half years.

After Nate dumped me in the harshest of ways, I've decided that I need more Blaine time. I need to focus on myself before I go into another relationship. I thought David and Wes understood that. I told them that I was moving closer to them in New York City so I could hang out with my best friends and start over from Ohio-Relationship-Dependent Blaine to New York City-Independent Blaine.

I guess Mercedes really did a number on David's heart. Mercedes is such a sweet and caring girl and she makes David so happy. He's met all of her friends and he swears that her "biffle", Kurt, is the one for me. He's a diva like Mercedes and is deeply into fashion. He's opinionated and strong willed but incredibly sweet and has the cutest smile.

But I just want some time for myself. Let me settle into the city, go clubbing, have one night stands, go a little crazy and have fun for once. That's why I decided that I'm going to allow myself to go crazy this Saturday night at Wes and David's welcoming party. When I get drunk, I turn straight. I'll probably end up hitting on one of Mercedes's friends and go to her house, have that one night stand, and then slightly regret it in the morning. I probably won't even notice Kurt there. All guys seem to disappear from my radar when my alcohol level rises.

This'll be perfect. I'll show Wes and David that I'm not ready to settle down yet.

Kurt already had two shots in his system and he felt great. The alcohol was beginning to make his brain a little fuzzy and it was only the beginning of the night. In about an hour or so, he'll be plastered. All he had to do from then till now is stay hidden from David and Mercedes. He knew the moment they find him he'll be dragged to meet Blaine.

He mingled with Santana and Lauren because both girls couldn't care less about giving up his position to Mercedes. Rachel would give him away in a heartbeat and he knew Finn would too if Rachel asked him. While Santana bragged heavily about something she deemed important, Kurt scanned his eyes among the busy crowd. He saw the top of Mercedes head coming his way and Kurt quickly apologized to his two friends before disappearing the opposite way.

The apartment was quite nice, he thought as he threw himself into a massive crowd dancing to Chris Brown. It wasn't huge but, knowing NYC, it must have cost the same amount as a full house back in Ohio. Kurt wondered what Blaine did for a living before mentally slapping himself. He was never gonna meet this kid sober so why should he care?

He danced awkwardly with the rest of the crowd, not drunk enough to lose all inhibitions. He needed to lose them before he was found. Slowly dancing his way to the alcohol stand, he saw a curly haired man chugging down a bottle of vodka. "You're gonna feel that later," he told the man as he snatched a jello shot off of a tray.

The man slammed the bottle on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That's what I'm hoping for," he muttered just loud enough for Kurt to hear him and walked away.

Kurt downed his jello shot and grabbed another as he disappeared amongst the crowd. As the alcohol warmed up his stomach and clouded his brain, Kurt was thankful he was a lightweight or this night would have dragged on forever. He saw Puck dancing (grinding) on some girl not too far from him. He knew that once he found Puck's mohawk attractive was when he was really feeling it.

And goddamn did Puck's mohawk look hot.

Blaine trailed his fingertips down the girl's side. She fluttered her eyelashes at him and he grinned back. His fingertips strayed and he found himself cupping the girl's ass, pulling her closer to his body. She moaned softly against his neck and flung her arms around him.

Already an hour and a half in and Blaine was already too gone to remember he was gay. It was the vodka, he slightly remembered. He downed that liquor like a pro even though he really wasn't one for drinking. He had kept far away from his two best friends all night. They were there before the party, helping him set everything up and informing him that close to fifty people were going to be there. Most of them were either Wes and David's friends they had met while in the Big Apple, friends of Blaine's from Dalton, Wes's girlfriend and a few of her gals, and Mercedes's and all of her friends from high school including Kurt.

At first he was really against so many people in his medium sized apartment especially since it was so new and he liked his apartment tidy. A bunch of drunk 20-something year olds dancing to upbeat techno music was not a good idea but then he thought otherwise. The more people, the better he could hide. The more drunkards, the easier it'll be for him to get smashed. Not to mention there were quite a number of girls on the list. Good looking, single girls.

Not that being singled mattered. Blaine was still able to get them with him even if they had a ring on their finger.

The girl in his arms noticed he was distracted and began to nibble on his neck. Blaine pushed her away roughly and walked back to the bar. The confused girl stared after him for a while before another guy, probably Nick, grabbed her wrist and pulled her away. Blaine didn't like it when people bit his neck. He preferred to bite, however, most girls liked to do that as well. He understood the appeal. Most girls were shorter than their boyfriends and therefore had great access to the neck in front of them. Blaine was rather short for a guy and all of his previous boyfriends' necks were right in front of his face. He liked to bite, especially when drunk.

Reaching the bar, Blaine downed another gulp or two from the vodka bottle. The room was spinning and he felt himself topple slightly as he tried to walk back toward the crowd. He felt a hand grab his own and he stumbled into them. Giggling, he looked up to see Wes. "Wes!" he said. He reached up to pat him on the cheek but he missed and slapped his ear. "Great…. to see you… buddy!"

"God Blaine! How much did you have?"

To Blaine that sounded like Russian. "Wes… I didn't know you could speak Russian!"

Wes mumbled something and started to drag him away from the dancing crowd. "No, Wes!" Blaine yelled, trying to break free. "I needs to dance! You don't understand! Dancing… it's my passion!" He tried to strike a ballerina pose but ended up crashing to the floor. "Wes! When… did you get so tall?"

His friend picked him up and wrapped his arm around his waist as they walked to the couches. "Wes, I'm straight. We can't do this. Wes, I'm sorry but I don't feel that way for you… Wes…."

Next thing he knew Blaine was on the couch staring back at his two best friends. "Blaine, listen carefully. Mercedes went to find Kurt. I want you to stay here and wait, okay?"

The only thing that processed in his mind was Kurt's name. He nodded dumbly and when Wes and David got distracted by a short brunette girl waving dramatically he bolted from the couch and disappeared into the crowd.

He was surrounded by bodies and that helped him stay on his feet. He started to dance. When he's sober, Blaine had interesting dance moves and all of them were named such as 'But Why is the Rum Gone' and 'Tasered Octopus'. When he was drunk, he looked like he was being attacked by bees and he was swatting them away with a look of pure insanity. Everyone else was too drunk around him to care that he was practically whacking them in the face with his flailing arms.

He felt a body slam into his and, automatically, he wrapped his arms around it to stabilize himself. Soft hands clutched at his shirt and a head with equally soft hair was pressed against his. "Don't let them catch me," the girl whispered in his ear with a drunk but high pitched voice. "Just let me dance with you."

Blaine was not one to refuse a girl when he was this drunk so he moved his arms from her back to the bottom of her waist. The girl was slightly taller than he was but this was not uncommon. The room was dark and his eyesight was fuzzy so he couldn't make out her looks. All he knew was that she was skinny, had light skin, and short brown hair. As soon as they started dancing, a Lady Gaga song started playing and it was like a natural instinct. The girl grinded into him and rubbed her hands up and down his chest. Blaine groaned as the girl spun around and danced down him like a pole. For a drunken girl she could dance. Pulling her back up, Blaine spun her back around and slammed his pelvis against hers. She moaned hotly into his ear as Blaine fondled her ass. She tangled her long fingers into his hair and slammed their faces together into a hot and searing kiss.

Blaine has kissed a lot of girls before while drunk. A lot. But this girl turned him on like no other female had done before. His lips vibrated against hers as he whimpered and she slipped her tongue in while given the chance. His body was warm from the alcohol and the passion of their bodies rubbing up against each other. Their kiss became sloppier as they tried to devour one another, both wanting to get as close as they possibly could. Blaine was vaguely aware he was dry humping her in the middle of the crowd. He barely remembered there was even anyone else around them. He could only keep his drunken mind on this girl and how good she felt against him.

She pulled her mouth away suddenly and Blaine moved forward to recapture her lips but her mouth had already moved to his ear. Blaine's knees buckled as the girl nibbled and licked his weak spot. His breath was coming out in pants as he gripped her hips tighter to remain upright. How did she know his weak spot? Did he tell her? He couldn't remember. All thoughts flew from his mind as she sucked on his ear lobe.

Blaine's eyes rolled downward and he spotted her neck. Her beautifully white and perfect neck. Feeling somewhat like a vampire, he ducked his head and bit hard. The girl jumped and dug her short nails into his shoulder blades. She was groaning into his ear as he continued to work on her neck. He bit, sucked, and licked, just trying to satisfy his need to get into her skin.

"Oh god…" she whispered hotly to him.

Blaine sucked his response into her neck.

Kurt felt the keen sharpness of a slap break through his drunken haze. He rubbed his cheek as the girl pulled her boyfriend away. She was yelling at him but the boyfriend's eyes stayed on Kurt. Kurt shot the boy a sexy smirk and blew him a kiss causing the boy to nearly trip over his girlfriend. Kurt rubbed his cheek again. That slap really hurt. It's not his fault her boyfriend was so easily turned on by him. It was either he didn't get enough sex or he was secretly in the closet. Based off of his girlfriend's pole-stuck-up-her-ass attitude and judging by his shoes, it was definitely the first one. Kurt smiled to himself and pushed himself off of the wall the boy had him cornered on. He was quite the kisser.

He could hardly walk straight and he could barely tell what was a lamp and what was a person. He had just made out with random guy and got slapped by his girlfriend. Adding him to the list would make it a total of five make outs, three lap dances, and one heavy petting. This list also contained two girls yelling at him for touching their men and one slap. Kurt would call this a night a success.

As he walked (stumbled) toward the bar, a hand reached out and grabbed him. He was pulled up against a blonde boy he vaguely recognized. "…Sam?" he asked.

The boy grinned and snaked his arms around his waist. "I always thought you were super hot," he slurred. "Like super, super, super-duper hot. Don't tell Quinn… she'll be, like, mad."

Kurt leaned forward and gently touched his lips against Sam's. "Quinn who?" he whispered. Sam pushed their faces together, finally locking lips. Kurt gripped Sam's muscular upper arms as Sam's tongue slipped inside his mouth, running its course around his teeth and palate.

Just as Kurt's hands began to wander down the path toward Sam's incredibly smoking ass, Kurt was ripped away by a tight grip on the back of his shirt.

"You're in for it big time, white boy," Mercedes growled as she dragged him away. Sam blinked in confusion, so drunk he didn't realize Kurt was gone until it was too late. "You were making out with Sam. SAM! Obviously, you're drunk off your ass. God! Kurt! What am I going to do with you?"

Kurt barely understood the words his best friend was saying. She was talking too fast and the dancing crowd looked like a lot of fun. He squirmed in her grasp. He wanted to dance! However, his need to dance was broken when Mercedes said "Blaine is waiting for you."

Kurt sobered up for three seconds. He needed to get out of there quick! As Mercedes pulled him past Britney, he quickly snatched her and explained that it was Mercedes's birthday. Britney, always one for a celebration, tackled her black friend into a huge hug, exclaiming how excited she was for her birthday. Kurt quickly slipped away into the dancing crowd.

He noticed an insanely cute boy dancing by himself. He was just his type with curly hair, bright hazel eyes, and soft looking lips formed into a cute grin. Kurt sped toward him as fast as his drunken legs could carry him and threw himself at the boy. The boy felt like he was going to topple and quickly secured himself by hugging his midsection. Kurt fisted the boy's shirt tightly, afraid that if he let go Mercedes would find him, and hid his face into the side of his head.

"Don't let them catch me," he whispered to the boy, hoping he'd let him be with him. "Just let me dance with you."

The boy lowered his arms until they were resting on his hips. Kurt took that as a yes and as a Lady Gaga song blasted into his ears, he felt the alcohol soak his brain once more as he danced promiscuously against this boy. And damn could this boy dance. And fucking damn could this boy kiss. And as this boy necked the fuck out of him, Kurt couldn't wait much longer. He needed release and he needed it now.

"Come home with me," he moaned into the boy's ear. He shivered and nodded vigorously. He gripped the boy's wrist tight and yanked him out of the crowd. They exited and almost tripped down the stairs. It would help if the boy could keep his hands to himself. It was hard enough for the two of them to walk down a simple flight of stairs without worrying about wandering hands.

Kurt lived about a five blocks down the street. He and the boy clung close to each other, using the other to stabilize themselves. The air was warm but it was a million degrees colder than the apartment. It felt good against Kurt's sweaty and flushed skin.

They took the elevator into Kurt's apartment where the boy quickly threw him against the wall and lavished his neck with kisses. Kurt gasped, tangling his fingers into his hair, pulling harshly.

The elevator door opened and this time it was the boy who dragged Kurt down the hall. "Which is yours?" the boy asked with a slight pant.

"F-four thirty one," Kurt replied. Reaching the door, Kurt tried to unlock it as the boy fiddled with his zipper. He couldn't bring himself to slap the hand away so he struggled against lust and alcohol to unlock the door.

One second Kurt was opening the door, the next found him on his back with a very sexy boy pushing him against the sheets. Their lips found each other in a heartbeat. They danced sloppily but Kurt couldn't remember a better or hotter kiss. With each moan, their lips vibrated and each vibration sent more and more blood down south. He felt teeth pull at his bottom lip and he flicked his tongue out to lick those lips. The boy's tongue joined his at once and together they twisted and turned around each other.

The boy's hands were massaging his thighs, moving closer and closer to his aching need. Kurt untangled one of his hands from his death grip on the boy's curls to move downward, reaching the boy's ass. He pushed him forward, crushing their pelvises together. Their mouths broke apart as each yet out a loud and strangled moan.

Kurt couldn't talk it anymore. His hands flew to the boy's button up shirt and tore it open. As he pushed the sleeves down his toned arms, the boy went back to his favorite spot on Kurt's body- his neck. Kurt couldn't help but buck up against the boy as he slipped the shirt off. How did he know exactly what turned him on?

With all his strength, Kurt pushed the boy away from his neck and led him to lie on his back. He did so and Kurt worked quickly on his belt and zipper. Tugging his jeans off, Kurt realized the only thing standing in his way now was a flimsy pair of rubber ducky boxers. His erection made an obvious tent in the boxers and as Kurt slid them down his legs it sprung free immediately.

The boy was not a boy, Kurt thought hungrily as he admired his penis. He wanted so badly to suck it, just to have it in his mouth, but he was so horny that he couldn't wait. He gave himself a sample, however, and gave one, long lick to the underside of it causing the boy to gasp. The boy reached for Kurt's top but he pushed him away. There was no way he was going to allow some guy to ruin his clothing in a lust induced fury. He stripped himself while the boy stared impatiently.

Before Kurt could touch his underwear, the boy leaped at him and yanked them off himself. He brought them back into a lip lock as he felt the boy's hand searching for his hole. Kurt broke the kiss suddenly. "Wait," he panted, reaching into his night stand for a condom and a bottle of lube. He shoved them into the boy's hands.

Making quick work, the boy had the condom on and all lubed up in record timing. He added some to his fingers then placed them back between Kurt's legs. He heard the boy mutter something along the lines of "Where is the goddamn vagina?" but he wrote it off as drunken hearing.

Finally, a finger slipped into his asshole. Kurt gasped as the finger wiggled around. A second one was added, then a third. Kurt hissed. It has been a while. "You okay?" the boy asked. Kurt nodded and the boy began to scissor his fingers, spreading Kurt wide.

Kurt's toes curled as the boy brushed against his prostate. "Aahh! Again!" The boy obeyed.

"Take out your fingers," Kurt ordered and he felt the fingers slip out. The boy threw Kurt's legs around his waist and Kurt dug his nails into the boy's back. Squeezing his eyes shut, he embraced himself for what came next. The boy slowly slid in and they both groaned.

"Oh god…" Kurt whimpered as he felt himself being stretched as far as he could.

"You're so tight!" the boy moaned.

Soon he was all the way in. Before he could move, Kurt asked for him to wait until he was adjusted. The boy was literally shaking by the time Kurt gave him the okay. The boy pounded into him and Kurt scratched his back as he tried to cling on. He found his prostate quickly and pounded into that spot again and again. White dots were flashing before his eyes. Kurt whimpered into the boy's ear and tried to stifle them by sucking on his earlobe. The boy was moaning softly with each thrust.

"Ohh… oh, aahh, ungh!" Kurt was releasing the most unattractive sounds but it seemed to only fuel the boy to move faster. "P-please…" he didn't know what he was begging for but the boy responded anyway by pounding into him harder.

His legs were squeezing his sides tightly and he was sure he had punctured the skin on the boy's back. At the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care as he came with a loud moan. The boy was right behind him as he came inside of Kurt. He collapsed on top of him and pulled out. He slid off the condom, tied it up, and threw it to the floor.

Kurt pulled him into a kiss, one much softer than their lust driven ones before. Their slow kiss lulled them off to sleep, tightly wrapped in each other's arms.

I have absolutely no skill or experience when it comes to writing smut so hopefully that was okay to sit through. The fact that I kept calling Blaine "the boy" was probably as annoying to read as it was to write but it was needed.

Next chapter should be coming up soon. Reviews make me remember!

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