Written for a prompt over at glee_kink_meme. Title from Soco Amaretto Lime by Brand New. One day I will go back to sensible writing. For now, I can only produce smut, which I guess isn't that bad. I'm reposting it because for some reason, decided it couldn't find it anymore and I do not have the patience to deal with this.

The music is loud and thumping and somewhere in the back of his mind, Blaine knows his headache when he wakes up will be horrible. He eyes the empty shot glass he dropped on the floor – he was aiming for the table but it was farther away than he thought – and squints, trying to remember how much he's had to drink. His gaze wanders to the empty bottle of tequila lying sideways on the coffee table before he can register he's moved his eyes but when he does, he realises the bottle was full when the party started.

Before he can fully process what this implies, Kurt falls on him from the armrest of the couch, giggling and clinging and heavy in his lap as he squirms around and tries to sit next to Blaine on the couch. He just came back from upstairs, where most of the girls are watching a movie.

"Blaine!" he slurs, giggling and pushing at Puck until he groans and scoots to his left, leaving enough room for Kurt to fit.

Kurt drapes himself over Blaine, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing his face against his shoulder. Blaine loves the warmth of it all. He loves the smell of Kurt – it's a nice change from the stench of alcohol and sweat because this basement is way too stuffy and lacks ventilation so the air is still and disgusting – and the feeling of his fingers digging in his hip.

Whatever album they were listening to ends but no one moves to put another one. It's like everyone at once crashed and there's barely no movement anymore as everyone is sitting or lying down on whatever surface they could find. Kurt is the first one to move in a while, reaching forward to grab a bottle of vodka Blaine had forgotten about. He brings it to his mouth and takes a swig, wincing and coughing a little before handing it to Blaine.

Everything in Blaine tells him he's had enough already but then Kurt is pushing the bottle closer and to hell with being responsible, he's too drunk to even remember how to spell that word anyway. He takes a gulp and feels the liquid burn down his throat, feels its warmth as it goes down to his stomach.

Blaine extends his arm to put the bottle on the floor and he's not even done yet that Kurt's lips are on his, hot and pressing hard and licking to make Blaine open his mouth. It takes Blaine by surprise at first – well, as surprised as he can be in the hazy mess that is his mind at the moment – because Kurt is usually so reserved and anti-PDAs. As Kurt begins exploring every inch of Blaine's mouth with his tongue, Blaine's surprise turns into arousal and he clings to Kurt's arms to keep him close.

"Ouch, hey, dude—wow," Puck lets out when Kurt tries to crawl into Blaine's lap without breaking the kiss and kicks him.

Blaine pulls away, turning his head when Kurt chases his lips. He looks at Puck who's rubbing the side of his thigh and staring at Kurt and Blaine like they grew a second head.

"Wow what?" Blaine asks, forcing the words out even as Kurt mouths at his jaw, his hands pulling his hair. If Blaine could focus on two things at once, he would file away the fact that alcohol makes Kurt horny.

"You—this. Didn't expect it."

"You didn't expect me and my boyfriend to make out?" Blaine says, trying to slur as little as possible. He's not sure he succeeded.

"Yeah but Hummel," Puck answers with conviction before taking the beer Lauren is handing him.

"S'my name," Kurt comments, grinning flippantly at Puck. "It's also my dad's, but I don't want to think about him right now because I start feeling guilty because of how ridiculously smashed I am," he rambles on, finishing with a high-pitched giggle.

Blaine strokes his back a few times, smiling at Kurt, who grins back and shifts until he's sitting sideways in Blaine's lap, his arms around his shoulders.

"No but Puck's right," Santana calls as she appears at the bottom of the stairs, clinging a red bottle in her hand and holding herself up against the wall with the other. "I'm surprised he even had a drink to begin with. But never mind that, kids, let's play Truth or Dare."

"That's lame," Puck drawls, sinking lower in the couch and propping his feet up on the coffee table. "It stopped being fun when I turned eight."

"That's because you never played with me. Autie Tana has a special drink to make things a little bit more exciting. Hummel! Give me the vodka!" she shouts, sitting on the coffee table and extending her hand, waiting for it. When Kurt gives it to her, she holds it in front of her face and frowns at it for a few seconds. "Shot glasses!" she finally says.

"Over there," Kurt says, pointing a cupboard.

She staggers towards it and takes out a box of glasses, heading back for the table and nearly falling on it. "Vodka and tabasco sauce shots for everyone who chickens out of their truth or dare."

"Still lame," Puck replies.

"You can go upstairs watch Dirty Dancing with the girls if you prefer that," Santana snaps.

Kurt perks up at the mention of the movie and starts getting up. Blaine grabs a hold of the back of his shirt and yanks him back against his chest. "You're not going anywhere," he growls in his ear, not wanting to lose how warm Kurt is against him and definitely not wanting to be left alone with Santana and her crazy, crazy drunken mind.

"Right, so the rules. You ask anything. Anything. We're not tweens anymore and we're way too drunk to care about what's doable and what's not. No limits."

"Nothing leaves this room," Finn adds.

"Deal," Artie says and everyone repeats it.

It starts out pretty tame anyway, so Blaine focuses on Kurt's fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and Kurt's mouth on his skin and Kurt all over him and his mind is comfortably fuzzy and filled with Kurtand he's really really happy about it.

"Blaine Warbler, truth or dare?" Brittany asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He blinks at her a few times, trying to remember what the thing he's supposed to answer with is. "Truth," he finally says.

"If you had to hook up with someone else than Kurt in this room, who would it be?"

Blaine blinks at her, completely sure Santana whispered that question in her ear because it's too thoughtful for asoberBrittany. He looks around the room, pondering what he was asked.

"It's hard to say, really," he starts talking without really noticing he does, like his brain-to-mouth filter is off. "I mean, Puck is a stud but he's too easily submissive, you know? With Lauren and all, it's clear he likes not being in control and I don't really dig that. Finn is hot but he's Kurt's brother and he's a bit dumb and I'm really into brains as a rule, so yeah, not Finn."

Gnawing on his bottom lip, he continues looking around the room. "Brit, Santana, Lauren, sorry but I'm sogay. Artie, hum, no offence dude, but does it even work? Don't answer that. Sam, your mouth is sinful but you're too blond. Mike. I would totally hook up with Mike." Blaine stops for a second. "But Kurt, really. Like, I would go against the rules and run off with Kurt anyway. I really love Kurt."

"Yeah, we know," Finn says, his tone a mix of annoyance and fondness as Kurt kisses Blaine's cheek, smiling.

"Okay, okay, my turn," Puck says. "Kurt, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Are you a virgin?"

"No," Kurt replies calmly. "In every meaning of the word, no."

The room is quiet for a moment after that.

"Kurt, truth or dare," Santana says, breaking the silence.

"I just answered one!" he complains.

She doesn't say a word, only grabs one of the red shot glasses and hands it to Kurt. His eyes widen and he shakes his head. "Dare," he finally groans.

"I want a proof. Go down on preppy."

"I'm not drunk enough for that," Kurt calls.

"Want one of those?" Santana asks him, still holding the shot glass.

"Your name suits you so well, Satan dear," Kurt snarls as he slides to the floor.

Blaine lets out a shaky breath when Kurt kneels in front of him. As soon as she gave Kurt his dare, Blaine's mind started reeling with want but he never thought Kurt would actually do it. Blaine is convinced he will when he puts his hands on Blaine's knees and pushes to try to get him to spread them.

"Are you sure about this?" Blaine asks hurriedly, his nerves making his words even more slurred than the alcohol in his system.

"Yes."

"Kurt, you're drunk." Blaine's voice is strangled because Kurt is stroking his inner thighs, his face too close to his crotch for him to be able to focus.

"Yes, so are you, what's your point?" Kurt sounds annoyed, like—like he actually wants to do that and Blaine is only cockblocking him, and oh god, that's too hot for Blaine's weak willpower to deal with.

Blaine's breath catches in his throat when Kurt unbuttons his pants and starts trying to pull them down for better access. Blaine lifts his lips to help him but Kurt's fingers are too numb and clumsy and it takes him forever to finally have them down to the middle of his thighs.

Kurt grins up at him before pressing his hand to the bulge in Blaine's underwear, stroking slightly and causing a soft moan to leave Blaine's lips. Kurt chuckles and presses again, this time wrapping his fingers around Blaine's cock and stroking it a few times. Blaine's hips twitch forward and Kurt laughs again.

Kurt leans forward and presses his lips to Blaine's cock in a soft open-mouthed kiss, his breath moistening the thin cotton and making Blaine groan. He repeats the motion, moving from base to head.

Blaine's breath is short and laboured and it takes him everything he has not to grab Kurt by the hair and force him to get on with it oh my god. Usually he doesn't mind the teasing – hell, he teases Kurt enough to deserve being teased back – but the entire situation is pulling on his nerves enough as it is that he doesn't need another reason to tense up.

"Kurt," he groans when the other boy starts nuzzling his length through the fabric of his briefs.

"Make him beg, dude," Puck says in a breath.

Kurt jerks his head up to look and him and Blaine mimics him, wide-eyed.

"What?" Puck lets out. "This can't get any weirder anyway."

Kurt grins wickedly and that and Blaine feels something tighten in his stomach. When Kurt brings his attention back to Blaine, it's to kiss from where his jeans stop to the crease where his thigh meets his hip. Kurt sucks and licks and nips at the sensitive skin, hovering over Blaine's crotch – not without letting out a puff of hot air that makes Blaine shiver – to kiss up his other thigh, all the way to the waistband of his jeans. His hands are on Blaine's knees, stroking lightly.

Kurt repeats the motion, until he's at Blaine's hip again but this time he pushes his shirt up and holds it there to kiss above the elastic band of his briefs and all the way across his stomach, from hipbone to hipbone. His free hand is stroking up and down the inside of Blaine's thigh and he's going to spontaneously combust really soon if Kurt keeps this up.

"Kurt, seriously. Just—" Blaine mutters, gasping when Kurt nips his right hipbone.

"Just what? You heard Noah," Kurt replies flippantly, smiling up at him and sitting back on his heels, his hands resting on his own thighs. His pupils are blown and his cheeks are red but Blaine doesn't know whether to blame it on the alcohol or the lust.

Blaine stares down at Kurt and bites his lip. For the first time since they've started having a sex life together, he feels like using their safe word. It's not that what Kurt is doing is too much to take – they've done far worse; it's that he would feel so embarrassed to beg in front of all their friends. He's mortified enough as it is that adding the entire submissive-pleading level would probably kill him. It's not that he has a reputation or anything – well, he sort of does actually – but there are things he'd rather only do in private and then there's the fact that—

"Blaine?" Kurt asks with a frown. "You okay?"

Blaine bites his lip again and closes his eyes. "Gap," he lets out in a breath and then waits to see if Kurt is too drunk to realise what he's just used.

When he opens his eyes, a second later, Kurt's eyes are wide and apologetic. Before he can see it coming, Kurt is climbing in his lap and hugging him, muttering 'sorry' over and over again in his hair.

"Hey, wait what's going on?" Lauren asks, the others mirroring her question. "Santana, get him one of your shots, he's bailing out.

"We can stop if you want," Kurt whispers to Blaine, ignoring everyone.

Blaine shakes his head. "No. Just. No more teasing. That's the—the thing that pushed it too far. Not in front of them. I don't want them to hear me beg. I'd rather you stop than that."

Kurt leans back so he can look Blaine in the eyes. They both know that what happened will ask for a serious conversation but this will have to take place when they can both walk straight or spell their own names.

"Alright," Kurt replies before going back to the floor. "Anyway, I can't stop. If I do, I'm pretty sure Santana's shot will burn through my oesophagus."

"What was that about?" Santana asks with annoyance.

"Nothing," Kurt tells her before hooking his fingers under the waistband of Blaine's briefs and yanking them down.

Blaine doesn't have the time to gasp at the feeling that Kurt's mouth is on him, warm and wet around the head of his cock and his eyes roll back in his head while his hands flail ridiculously before resting on Kurt's head. The room has gone eerily quiet so every sound Blaine makes, every whimper or gasp, resonates through it and he would feel self-conscious and embarrassed if Kurt had not just brought his hand that's not wrapped around Blaine's cock to his balls.

Kurt sucks shallowly at the head for a while, his tongue flickering around it every now and then. He pulls his mouth off – the pop produced absolutely obscene – to lick a streak from the base to the head, causing Blaine to jerk his hips up and grunt. When Kurt starts mouthing at Blaine's cock without a rhythm or much conviction, Blaine forces his eyes open and looks down at him.

"I've been thinking—" Kurt trails off when he notices Blaine looking at him. "Don't move."

With that, he puts his arm across Blaine's hips and takes a deep breath before once more wrapping his mouth around Blaine's cock. Blaine wonders what he meant by what he said until he, instead of sucking only on the tip, starts sinking down until Blaine's cock hits the back of his throat. Blaine's eyes shoot close and he's breathing hard, his fingers yearning to grip Kurt's hair to keep him there. Less than a second later, Kurt is coughing and wiping his chin and teary eyes.

"Ugh," he groans. "My gag reflex is a bitch."

"I hear you, brother," Santana comments.

"Like that's a problem now, Sappho," Kurt replies while idly jerking Blaine off.

Blaine misses her reply because Kurt chose that moment to once again take him in his mouth; all he knows is that it made Kurt chuckle because – oh god – he did it around Blaine's cock. The vibrations make him see stars and he stifles a moan, gripping the armrest of the couch to avoid hurting Kurt by pulling on his hair.

Kurt braces his hands on Blaine's hips and starts bobbing his head back and forth, clearly determined to make Blaine come embarrassingly quickly. Blaine opens his eyes to look at Kurt and moans at the sight. He will never get used to seeing Kurt's lips wrapped around him, to seeing his angelic face doing something as filthy as this. Kurt meets his eyes and winks.

Pulling on Blaine's hips, Kurt lowers him on the couch and then one of his hands wanders down, the faint brush of fingertips making Blaine shiver. His hips buck up when Kurt presses his thumb against his entrance, his other hand firmly pinning his hips down.

Something warm coils up low in Blaine's stomach as Kurt continues sucking enthusiastically and rubbing his thumb over his hole and he should really warn Kurt.

"Kurt—" he gasps out, his hands lacing through Kurt's hair to try to pull him off.

Kurt groans around his cock and slightly shakes his head. Blaine lets out a groan and keeps his hands in Kurt's hair, his head falling back as he doubles his speed and sucks harder, his cheeks hollowing. Just a few more seconds, really, it won't be long, just—

Blaine comes when Kurt pushes his thumb passed the tight ring of muscles. He moans and shudders as Kurt sucks him through his orgasm. He then carefully takes Blaine out of his mouth and starts licking him clean. He stops when it becomes too sensitive and Blaine whimpers. With one last kiss to his now soft cock, Kurt eases him back in his underwear and then tugs his pants up, letting Blaine button them himself.

The room is completely silent even as Kurt reclaims his seat between Blaine and Puck, dabbing at the corners of his mouth to make sure they are clean. Blaine blinks a few times as his mind clears up and then he grins at Kurt, leaning into him and hiding his face in his neck.

"I can't believe you did that," Blaine mutters against his skin.

"Me neither," Kurt replies, his words still as slurred as before.

"Even Santana didn't swallow," Puck says to break the silence.

"Hey!" she snaps, glaring at him.

"Dude, what did you do to make him come so fast?" Artie asks cautiously, squinting. "One second he looked like he could last forever and the next he was falling apart."

"He started fingering me," Blaine replies, so far beyond being awkward about it. "Well, not exactly."

Kurt makes a fist and wiggles his thumb with a smirk. "It's magical," he says with a giggle and Blaine nods. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go up to my room before I sober up and I realise what I've just done," Kurt adds before getting up. "You were right, Puck. This game is lame."

He staggers slightly and extends his hands to help his balance. As he starts up the stairs, Blaine glances one last time around the room before heading after Kurt.

"Where're you going?" Finn asks.

"Reciprocation," is all Blaine replies before going up the stairs, using the walls to stay up as his feet act like they have a mind of their own.

Finn's 'dude' is the last thing he hears before Kurt realises he's following and grabs his arm to pull him upstairs faster.