Again, sorry for the late update. This time my excuse is that my laptop broke and I didn't have regular access to a computer until Saturday night. This prompt is from a very enthusiastic Stormaggedon (thanks so much for prompting more than once!).

WARBLER PARTY! Everyone gets a bit tipsy, and they play truth or dare. Someone dares Blaine to kiss Kurt, and he refuses. When questioned, he blurts out that he loves Kurt, and he didn't want to kiss him as part of a dare! Fluffiness will ensue...

Warning: Obviously, this chapter involves underage drinking. Which I do not condone.

And while we're on the topic of warnings, I have absolutely no experience with drunkenness or drunk people, and I haven't seen Blame it on the Alcohol, so I had nothing to go on to make an in-character drunk Blaine. I ended up going off of a video I found of a somewhat drunk Darren Criss performing Teenage Dream. But my point is, if this is not realistic, sorry. Enough of my rambling, enjoy!


Truth or Dare

Kurt hunched his shoulders over his textbook and ran his fingers through his hair impatiently. He'd been aware that his classes at Dalton would be harder than what he was accustomed to, but the Calculus problems in front of him were like a foreign language, letters and numbers and graphs mixed together in a way that he was sure was not what math was supposed to be. When the door burst open loudly, Kurt growled under his breath and threw down his pencil, looking up with some asperity at whoever dared intrude. "I'm trying to get something done, here- Oh, it's you," he said, breaking off abruptly when he saw that it was Blaine.

"Hey!" Blaine said brightly, seemingly impervious to the biting tone in Kurt's voice. "Tough night for homework?" he asked, taking in Kurt's expression.

"You could say that," Kurt mumbled, glancing briefly down at the two problems he'd managed to complete in half an hour.

Blaine came up behind Kurt and peered over Kurt's shoulder, looking down at the open textbook. Blaine leant down and reached over Kurt's shoulder to point at something on the page, and Kurt became very keenly aware of how close Blaine's head was to his, how his arm was almost brushing against his cheek. Kurt blinked and shook his head slightly, refocusing on Blaine's finger tracing the curve of a graph as he methodically explained the problem.

"But that's not why I came here," Blaine said cheerfully, moving around the other side of the desk so that he could face Kurt, beaming at him. "You," Blaine said seriously, pausing for emphasis, "need to come to our Warbler party."

Kurt gestured at the papers strewn across his desk and muttered, "Busy, remember? It's hard getting used to Dalton classes. I can't go tonight." Kurt gazed rather longingly at Blaine, wishing that he could be spending the night with him and David and Wes rather than with homework and textbooks."

Blaine chuckled. "So naïve," he grinned, his eyes friendly and warm… maybe too warm to just be friendly. Kurt banished that thought instantly. The incident at GAP with Jeremiah should have taught him by now not to jump to conclusions. "You only say that because you've never been to a Warbler party," Blaine was saying. "They are not something to be missed."

Kurt smiled back and decided that just because Blaine was oblivious and disinterested didn't mean he shouldn't try. And after all, who would want to hang about with someone who spent their nights holed up in their room pouring over Calculus problems? "Of course I'm coming," he said, shutting his book and jumping up.

Blaine began to lead the way out of Kurt's room as if he'd known all along that Kurt would come, and for a split second, Kurt was jealous of how Blaine was always so sure, so certain in what he was doing and where he was going. But then, Blaine looked back over his shoulder and reached out his hand to Kurt, just like when they'd run through the hallways hand-in-hand on that very first day. Kurt tried to hide how much the gesture meant to him and slipped his hand into Blaine's larger, warmer one, and, for the moment, forgot to be anything but content.


Two hours later, Kurt crossed his arms and pursed his lips as he watched all the Warblers but himself gradually disintegrate from preppy private school students into a messy, loud collection of drunk boys.

"Kurt!" Blaine called across the room in an uncharacteristically too-loud voice, beckoning to Kurt rather clumsily from where he was standing on the back of a leather couch. He'd turned into a person foreign to Kurt - his blazer sloppily askew and his tie hanging limp and undone around his loosened collar. Perhaps even more shocking was his sudden abandon of any sense of reserve, often throwing his arm around Kurt's shoulder and pulling uncomfortably close, laughing too loudly at Kurt's jokes. But then again, Blaine had always seemed to find Kurt funny, even when he knew he wasn't... "KURT!" Blaine shouted again, reclaiming Kurt's attention.

He smirked slightly and called back, "What?"

"C'mere!"

Kurt couldn't help but laugh quietly to himself as Blaine, his coordination long-gone, swayed and flailed his arms to keep upright on his perch. After an unsteady moment in the air, he seemed to give up and half jumped, half toppled onto the seat of the couch. Kurt slowly pushed off from the wall he was leaning against, and meandered over to Baine, sitting down about a foot away.

"Maybe that will teach you not to climb on every piece of furniture Dalton owns," he suggested. Not expecting a response to that, he remarked,"You seem to be enjoying yourself, despite being more than a little inebriated."

"I am," Blaine said far too emphatically, leaning towards Kurt as if he was saying something confidential, and then not pulling back, keeping his face so close to Kurt's that Kurt could almost feel the body heat coming off of him.

"Enjoying yourself, or drunk?" Kurt clarified, partly amused and partly exasperated by this new, uninhibited version of Blaine that he'd never met before.

Blaine was still considering this question when Wes, David, Jeff, and Trent stumbled over, seating themselves on a mahogany coffee table across from the couch. "We're going to play truth or dare," David announced.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I think I've got an unfair advantage there," he said. When five pairs of confused eyes stared at him, he elaborated, "I'm the only one whose inhibitions are still intact."

Blaine shrugged and drawled unconcernedly, "Then you have to go first!"

"Okay." Kurt thought for a moment, and then said, "Truth," figuring that he didn't want to be subject to the ridiculous dares his friends would manufacture in their drunken state.

Blaine's eyebrows scrunched together and he finally asked, "Did you hate Jeremiah?"

"The GAP dude?" Jeff asked. "I thought you were over him, Blaine."

Blaine covered Jeff's mouth clumsily with his hand, saying, "I am, but let Kurt answer the question."

"Get off of me!" Jeff said, hitting Blaine's hand away playfully and then shoving his side.

Kurt raised his eyebrows and waited for the boys to finish wrestling, secretly gratefully for the extra time he was gaining in which he could construct an answer. He hadn't expected a drunken Blaine to be so perceptive. "No..." Kurt finally answered slowly. "I didn't hate him, exactly, I just thought he wasn't right for you. Clearly, I was right," he couldn't help adding.

"Liar. You were jealous." Wes mumbled quietly.

Kurt chose not to try to distinguish between jealousy and hate and quickly urged, "Blaine, it's your turn."

"Dare!" Blaine said eagerly, grinning.

"I know!" Wes said suddenly, his face lighting up mischievously. "You have to kiss Kurt."

Kurt could feel his face flush instantly, and hoped desperately that the others were too tipsy to notice. "What?" he said, spluttering.

Before anybody could answer to Kurt's outburst, however, a touch of reason returned to Blaine's eyes and his smile faded as he said firmly in a voice devoid of any hint of inebriation, "No."

Kurt's eyes, diverted in embarrassment before, were suddenly riveted on Blaine's face. Was he really that bad? Was he so unlovable that even a drunk Blaine, who'd kissed a girl - kissed Rachel, for Christ's sake - wouldn't even kiss him on a dare? What was wrong with him? Could nobody want him?

"What do you mean 'No'?" Wes and David protested immediately. "It's a dare. You have to."

Blaine's face shut off, and he crossed his arms. "I said no. Give me something else, I'll do a different dare. Anything. But not that."

Kurt took a swig from the can of beer next to him to cover the hurt expression that he was sure was all over his face, thinking that maybe getting drunk wouldn't be so bad at the moment.

"Okay, fine," Wes said. "But you can't get a different dare. Instead you have to answer a truth."

Blaine shrugged, his face desperate. "Sure. Anything." He was slurring again.

"Why won't you kiss Kurt?"

At this, Kurt covered his blushing face with his hands and moaned. Did nobody consider that they were torturing him, too? He forced himself to look fearfully back at Blaine again.

Blaine leaned forward, his alcohol-tinged breath blowing across Kurt's face. "Because I looooove him," Blaine drawled. "And I'mma kiss him for real someday." he said loudly.

Kurt's stomach clenched nauseatingly. He should have known that things could always, always, get worse. This was wrong, all of it, the words he'd dreamed of hearing for so long twisted around horribly and spoken in a voice he hardly recognized. A nightmare, mocking the most secret, sincere hope he'd ever nurtured. Suddenly his hand was flashing out, slapping Blaine across the cheek, sounding louder than the blow really was. Kurt sprang to his feet, furious at himself for the blush staining his cheeks, for the way he couldn't laugh it off, for how he'd betrayed the fact that he actually cared.

"Shut up!" Kurt snarled. "Can you do that? Can you manage to keep your solo-hogging mouth shut? You're drunk, and stupid, and I wish I never came to this moronic party," he snapped.

Kurt became aware of just how loudly his voice was echoing in the now-silent room, and he spun around, barely hearing Blaine call after him as he stormed furiously to his dorm room. He'd been inside for all of two minutes when there was soft knock on his door. "Go away, Blaine," he huffed angrily.

"Kurt, please? Just open the door," Blaine's plaintive voice came through the door, gentle and pleading. And drunk, Kurt reminded himself, forcing himself to hold his resolve.

"Two minutes, Kurt, and then I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, I promi-"

"What?" Kurt yanked open the door, deriving childish pleasure from the way it banged loudly against the wall.

"I don't really know what I did to make you mad," Blaine mumbled, playing with the ends of his tie, "because, like you said, I'm sort of - no, very - drunk. But whatever it is, I didn't mean it, and I'm sorry."

Kurt covered how hurt he still was by snorting sarcastically and saying snarkily, "Some apology. You don't even know what you're sorry for."

Blaine clasped his hands before him entreatingly and looked up at Kurt with big, soft, brown eyes that Kurt decided he hated. "I can't leave until you forgive me."

"What happened to the whole, 'I'll leave you alone if you want' thing?"

Blaine only shook his head and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Kurt grabbed Blaine's arm and dragged him inside. "Fine. Just come in if it'll make you be quiet. You're probably too drunk to remember this, but I have Calculus homework to do, and I can't stand here arguing with you all night."

He steered Blaine to the bed and shoved him down on it. "If you talk I'm going to throw you out," he warned.

Blaine nodded and Kurt went back to his desk and bent over his Calc book again. If it had been difficult before, when he was at least focused, the problems were impossible now. He was so, so tired and Blaine was asleep on his bed, curled up adorably, and somehow Kurt didn't have the heart to wake him up... Kurt stretched his arms out on the table and closed his eyes, drifting off into an agitated sleep filled with Blaine and humiliation and mockery.


Kurt's eyelids fluttered as he slowly woke up, and he groaned as he realized that his mouth felt fuzzy and his throat was dry and scratchy and his back was stiff - not to mention that he'd missed doing his moisturizing routine. Kurt raised his head and looked around, blinking confusedly. He was in a chair before his desk, still dressed in his blazer... the events of the previous night came rushing back to him and he was furious all over again.

As he became more alert, Kurt realized that someone had turned off the main light, and that the only illumination came from his desk lamp, which had oddly been moved to his bed. Kurt returned fully to consciousness with a jolt as he saw Blaine lying on his stomach on his bed, having divested himself of his blazer and wearing only the navy trousers and white button down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal Blaine's tanned, lean forearms. Kurt forced himself to not think of that particular aspect of Blaine and instead focused on the fact that Blaine was propping his chin up on his left hand and apparently finishing Kurt's Calculus homework with his right hand.

"Exactly what are you doing?" Kurt asked coldly.

Blaine jumped slightly and looked up at Kurt. "Oh, you're up. I'm sorry, was the light too bright? I was just trying to finish..." Blaine trailed off and sat up, waving his hand lamely at Kurt's homework.

Kurt passed over all the blatantly wrong things about the circumstances and settled on pointing out, "Your handwriting is nothing like mine, no teacher is going believe I wrote that."

Blaine's tense face relaxed a little, and he held out the page for Kurt to see. "I can be a good forger when I want to be one. Look, it's almost indistinguishable."

The fact that Blaine was right only annoyed Kurt more and he growled, "Is that the only thing you have to say for yourself?"

Blaine bit his lip and looked down, ashamed. "I woke up and you'd fallen asleep, and I knew I couldn't sleep because I had such a headache... hangover, you know... and I just thought... I know I've ruined everything, but I'm good at Calculus, and it seemed like the only thing I could fix, so I just..." Blaine trailed off again and stared up at Kurt, his face the very picture of repentance. "I should go," he murmured, clearly uncomfortable.

Kurt quickly looked away. Was that it, then? Blaine wouldn't at least talk about what he'd said last night? Kurt wasn't worth even that? "So you really didn't mean it," Kurt whispered as his heart broke, his voice so soft that not even Blaine could hear the words. Despite everything, he'd hoped that there had been a slight spark of truth in Blaine's words the night before. But, no, he'd been a fool to think that... Blaine didn't even seem to remember what he'd said. Of course he wouldn't, why would he recall a drunken outburst that wasn't even true...

"I'm sorry, honestly, and I'll understand if you never want to talk to me again, or..." Blaine shuddered, his body seeming to convulse involuntarily.

"Yeah, actually-" Kurt stopped and cleared his throat to steady his voice, "never talking to you sounds pretty good right now."

Blaine nodded and got up to go, but halfway to the door he turned back and said softly, "I know I said I'd go and I will, but first... I know I was drunk... but I don't regret anything I said." Blaine glanced at Kurt's face and said quickly, "Well, I mean, of course I wish I hadn't... but... what I mean is, I meant it." Blaine shook his head frustratedly and muttered, "Gosh, why can't I talk coherently?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed as he wondered the same thing. "Meant what?" he asked cautiously.

Blaine flushed. "You know, Kurt."

Again, Kurt hid behind a wall of sarcasm. "Looks like all your inhibitions are back."

Resolve kindled in Blaine's eyes, and he stepped toward Kurt hesitantly, gently taking hold of his shoulders and forcing Kurt to face him. "I meant it when I said that I wanted our first kiss to be real. I didn't want it to be tainted with alcohol or with the assumption that it was for a dare and not for you and me. I meant it when I said that I wanted it someday." Blaine took a deep breath and then, his eyes glowing and soft and alive, finished, "And I meant it when I said I loved you."

Kurt tried not to hope, not to let his breathing quicken and his heart race. It wasn't enough. This wasn't something he could do. He needed Blaine to take this first leap for them - and then Blaine did, and their arms were around each other, and their lips were pressed against each other's fiercely, and Blaine was everywhere - the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him - and Kurt blissfully immersed himself in the moment, forgiving everything in an instant as his anger was consumed in a flame of passion and love and joy.


I hope there was enough fluffiness in there for you, Stormaggedon. I felt like Kurt wouldn't want to hear it from Blaine that way, so I made him mad instead of fluffy, and put the fluff in later. What did you all think? In-character? Keep those prompts coming, everyone!