Everything goes to shit at around a half past ten.

At around eight omebody takes some Jack and Breeders (and a few wine coolers) from an assuming bag on a cupboard and screams 'Party time, bitches!'.

(Well, maybe 'somebody' is him, but how the fuck would he have guessed that these fucking pussies held their liquor as well as his nana?)

For the first thirty minutes, the only ones approaching the alcohol are Santana, Brittanny, Lauren, and him. After a while, Finn. Soon follows Rachel (with a determined expression that looks sort of ridiculous on someone who's probably going to get smashed, and not, I don't know, defuse a bomb). And as if on a cue, everyone else. Because if Berry was doing it? Berry, whose ass held the biggest stick in store?

Yeah, well. Everyone else had to do it, too, then. It would be totally lame not to.

For the first few shots, the only thing that happens is that music gets louder and people get bolder and the jamming gets way more intense and everyone laughs more than Puck's ever seen them in this short a time span. Everything's okay, they're partying in a somewhat healthy way.

...Until Brittany climbs on a table and yells You should've put a ring on it! In a joyous tone that elicits excited squeals from a very tipsy Tina, who climbs right next to her, and both Artie and Mike start hollering.

Then, Kurt comes rushing to the table and lets out a powerful wail that consists of four simple words that have everyone drunkenly cheering for him.

All the single ladies!

And just like that, the three of them are practically having sex on the wooden piece of furniture. Kurt's singing is lower than he's ever heard it –a deep, sultry growl that makes him sort of uncomfortable, hot and prickly; something that conjures pictures of supple limbs and sleek panting- and both girls are ignoring the original steps in favour of sticking themselves tightly against Kurt, doing backing vocals against his cheek, and clutching his hips and his arm, and eveything they can grab at once.

When the song ends Brittany climbs over Kurt –embracing him with arms and legs, like a blonde, eageroctopus-, who is laughing and holding her easily (and who'd've known the dude had that much strenght?) while she spreads wet kisses all over his neck , and Tina is nowhere to be seen (and Puck can see that Mike has also fucked off, so it's not really hard to guess what they've gone away for).

As Brittany whispers something on Kurt's ear that has him blushing a deep red, Puck can feel that someone is pressing a bottle to him.

And in comes the tequila, though Puck will never know how they got a hold of that one, since he didn't buy it.

So, yes. By ten, everyone is sloshed. Except him. Which sucks. But it's still kind of cool, because he sits down on one of the couches –Lauren's glasses perched on his nose, and the girl herself holding court next to him with a pleased smirk- and just marvels in the knowledge that he's going to be using all this as blackmail material until the day he dies. Or until they graduate from high school. He's nice like that.

By a quarter past ten, however, things get a bit weird. Santana is sitting on top of Brittany, and her hands are lost under the blonde girl's skirt and shirt, and Sam and Artie are pretty much squirming next to them. Rachel's moved on from her brief stint kissing the hobbit (whose name he won't even try to remember because he hates the dude on principle) and is now twirling a drunken Quinn's hair in a flirty fashion that makes Puck lift an eyebrow ( ...the hell?), while Finn –who is sitting between them- moves his giant hands up and down both their thighs.

The critical point is reached by a half past ten, when a drunken Kurt sits himself on the hobbit's lap and says –louder than intended, probably- it's getting a little bit hot in here.

...And under the scrutinity of more than ten other horny teenagers, he starts to undress. While sitting on another dude's lap. Off comes the black tie –which he throws carelessly to the floor-, and off come those ugly suspenders, and then he starts fingering the buttons on his red shirt, and Puck comes to the realisation thatwhoa, the dude's getting naked.

He tears his eyes away from Kurt –which proves to be quite difficult- and looks around the trashed room. Everyone is watching. Most of the girls look guiltily turned on (for the esception of Brittany and Santana, who look ready to go and help him).

It's the boys who bother him, though. Finn looks positively green, but other than him, everyone else looks... interested. Sam's even biting his lip and clutching one of those disgusting cushions of Rachel's.

Turning back to Kurt, he sees that the shirt's buttons are halfway undone, and the guy keeps talking in strings of butchered nonsense and humming softly to himself. Then he sees that the hobbit looks seconds apart from creaming his gay little trousers, and he has his hands firmly set on Kurt's hips and that is...

Okay, that is shit. This is too much, everything's gotten too out of hand.

"Hey, Hummel. Quit it with the strip tease, okay?" He says, feigning indifference. Lauren snorts, besides him, and he feels kind of busted. But whatever, who cares.

Kurt looks up at him, while shrugging the red garment off, exposing his pale chest –flushed pink in several places- and the subtle lines of muscle that define his stomach soflty; he throws the shirt to the floor, along with everything else and smiles at him.

"Why?" And suddenly everything snaps from its previous tension. Time starts running again –and when had it stopped?- and everyone in the room starts laughing and making lewd comments and encouraging him.

Kurt moves a bit on Blaine's lap (yes, okay; yes, he's a fucking liar, he does know the kid's name, so what?) causing the other dude to tighten his hold on Kurt's hips and whimper; after that, Kurt puts his hand on his epxensive jeans and bats his eyelashes mockingly at Puck.

"Are you gonna stop me?"In one swift movement he's parted Blaine's legs, gotten himself in a more comfortable position between the guy's knees , and taken his pants off.

The room gets eerily silent again.

"Dude, put those on, okay? Tomorrow you're gonna remember this and want to move to fuckin' Alaska."

Kurt laughs, drunkenly and happy and exposing the unmarred lenghts of his neck.

"Oh, Noah, aren't you being especially chivalrous tonight." He says, and when he sits down on the Warbler's lap again (clad only in red, short, tight briefs) Puck decides that enough is enough.

"Dude, I'm taking you home. You're way too drunk".

After that, everything is a flurry of movement; everything is getting Kurt up from his resting place, getting Kurt dressed –trying to touch as little as he can, and biting his tongue everytime he feels his cock stir in interest-, getting Kurt to his house, getting Kurt to his bed.

When he arrives to his house, he tries not to think too much and slips quickly under his sheets, and sleeps; no funny business, no touching himself, no thinking about Kurt's pale skin, and his long legs, and his laugh and, and... no. Not at all.

The next day Mercedes sits next to him on first period and shares with him, sounding buoyant:

"At least he didn't take the underwear off, this time. I think Tina still has wet dreams over that one."

Puck gapes. Mercedes laughs. His cellphone beeps.

I'm really, really, really sorry, Noah.