This is a oneshot dedicated to the wonderful TiffanieElyse, who wrote me possibly THE best review for Friends With Benefits ever (see at lizloz. tumblr. com /post/12652711981)

So I gave her a special prize of her own personal story :)

She asked for straight Blaine - so here it is!

Edit: 1/12/11 This story MAY be continued...


The party was pumping.

It was one of those stupid mixers – Juniors all getting together in someone's house and drinking from kegs someone had managed to get their uncle to buy. And don't forget the parents away on vacation to Hawaii. There was always one of those.

Anyway, the host of the party was Jacob Somebody-or-other and I was aiming to get drunk. Quinn was already hanging around my waist and I figured it wouldn't be too long before her dainty little fingers were pressing into my skin, trying to stay upright. We'd been going out for quite a while – had already reached all the bases and then some. She was cute, spunky, and very good in bed. I liked her.

"Blaine?" Her voice already had a little slur to it – the two of us had had some of my Dad's whiskey before we'd arrived and it seemed to have gone straight to her head. She looked adorable.

"Yes baby?" I replied with a smile, pulling her up so her face was closer to mine.

"You're really pretty." She giggled, her head lolling to the side, and I grinned further.

"I know. So are you." Leaning forward that extra few inches I pressed our lips together. Quinn tasted of whiskey and strawberries – not normally a very desirable combination but somehow in this case completely delectable. She immediately tried to deepen the kiss, reaching up one hand to hook round my neck and even bringing her leg up slightly towards my waist, but I pulled away.

"Not now baby." That could wait till later.

We strolled into the epicentre of the party – what seemed to be a living room, but was now a mass graveyard for paper cups and streamers. The football team were here and they all greeted me with loud cries and slaps on the back. Finn Hudson, the reserve quarterback and previous captain, eyed me with a steely glare and said nothing. I laughed. So what I'd stolen his girlfriend and his position? He was old news now. Nobody cared. That Rachel girl was there too – the one that got the lead roles in the plays nobody came to. She was probably the only person that thought about Finn Hudson. Feeling Quinn stumble next to me again I sat her down on nearby sofa, holding her gently and smiling once more as she pawed at my arms with her hands when I stood back up.

"Where are you goiiiing?"

"To get me another drink? You want one?" She nodded vigorously and I wondered why I had bothered asking. For a second I pondered whether or not leaving my semi-drunk girlfriend alone in a house full of football boys was a good idea – but then I shook my head in disapproval at my own stupidity. Nobody was going to take my girl.

I fought my way through the growing crowds (living nearby meant I'd got here relatively early, but late enough to still be cool) to the kitchen and headed straight towards the drinks table, which was also filled with used cups.

"Alright Blaine?" Rory Flanagan shouted out, his Irish accent cutting across the room in almost the same manner as his over-exaggerated wave. I waved back much more calmly, but didn't elicit the start of a conversation. He wasn't really worth it. Grabbing hold of two clean cups I reached for the keg and filled them up right to the brim, taking a deep sip of both before I began my journey back to the living room. Mmmn. This tasted good. Whiskey was great and all, but there was nothing like a good old cheap beer. If there was enough of this going round I would definitely be wasted in a couple of hours.

A few more people greeted me as I walked back, all receiving the same smile and muted "Hey" reserved especially for them. When I entered back into the living room Quinn sat up, obviously eager for her drink.

"There you go." I handed the smaller one to her, taking another sip of mine as I sat down, and watched her hold it with immense concentration – trying not to spill the liquid even though it was nowhere near the lip of the cup.

"Thanks Blaine." She replied happily, finally taking a sip before snuggling into my body like a little girl. I smiled, lifting up one arm to drape casually around her shoulders and nuzzling my nose into her hair.

"No problem." The party was in full swing in front of us, drinking games, making out, some guys even semi-naked already. I could choose whether I wanted to be a part of any of it – they would all let me in. But for now, I was happy just sitting there watching it all.

Then it happened.

A boy walked into the room. I assumed he was a junior because there were only ever juniors at these kind of parties. He must have been a junior. But he certainly wasn't anyone I had ever seen around.

"Blaine?" Suddenly the voice of Quinn pierced into my eardrums, her tone inquisitive. I wondered what she was worried about before I realised my whole body had tensed, my muscles clenched and my jaw tight, set shut. I went to turn and respond to her but found myself unable to move. I couldn't budge. My eyes were trained on him.

"Blaine?" The boy had brown hair. Just a normal brown, nothing special. It was styled up into a quiff that vaguely resembled some kind of rock and roll star and his skin was porcelain white, obviously the subject of a rigorous skin routine. Wait – why was I thinking about skin routines? He was definitely gay – you could tell simply from the way he stood, or his shiny black boots fitting over skinny skinny jeans and a positively vulgar red shirt. It was the kind of gay that screamed at you, 'look I'm here and I'm queer get over it'. Gay was a turn-off. But for some reason, I wasn't turned off by this boy at all.

"BLAINE!" Finally I was broken out of my trance. Quinn had decided she really wanted my attention so had hit me on the shoulder, but in doing so split her entire drink all down my arm.

"Fuck! Quinn what the hell?" Immediately I jumped up, knocking my girlfriend but not caring. My hands brushed frantically at my shirt, trying to get rid of the liquid before it soaked into the cotton and droplets flew everywhere. It was no use. The beer had already made an ugly stain and I growled in frustration.

"Why did you do that?"

"I was just trying to get your attention! You went all funny!"

"No I didn't!" Suddenly hit with a stinging realisation my retort was harsher than I'm been meaning – Quinn shrunk back into the sofa and immediately I was filled with regret.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I'm sorry baby..." Leaning over I went to kiss her but she wriggled away – I played the game and followed her with my face until finally she had to give in and our lips met once more.

"I'm sorry." My girlfriend let me fall forward and we kissed deeply some more, my hands reaching up to stroke her hair until a couple of seconds later we broke away.

"Silly Blaine." Quinn's own hands were beginning to creep towards my shirt – I let her pull it off with a smile and laughed when her eyes widened, fingers suddenly running across my skin slowly and gently. As I let her caress me my head fell back and I gazed upside down at the area I'd been staring at before.

The boy had gone.

Maybe I'd imagined him. Maybe there was something in this drink that made you see stuff – hash or something. Was it possible to put hash in a drink? I knew you could put it in cakes…

"Puck!" I shouted over probably my closest friend – the football player strolled over and gave me a wink. He'd experienced first how hand how good Quinn was and we regularly shared stories of our conquests.

"Dude, what's up?"

"Did you see a guy standing over there before? The queer one?" We were both casually ignoring the fact that I was getting finger raped, Quinn letting out little adorable noises of approval as her hands got closer and closer to my pants.

"The one with the boots?"


"That's Kurt Hummel." Kurt. I'd never heard that name before.

"He's Finn's step-brother."

"What?" My eyes widened and Quinn almost stopped moving. "He goes to McKinley?"

"No. Some dumb-ass boarding school. Deerton or something. He only comes back for holidays." My eyebrows furrowed. How had I never heard about this? I knew Puck and Finn were kind of friends, but I knew all the gossip around these parts. Nothing got past me. And this…this was important gossip.

"What is he doing at this party?" I wanted to know who had invited him. Who had given him permission to be there and just… make me feel weird.

"No idea bro. He probably invited himself." Puck shrugged his shoulders and I nodded in agreement, before he was suddenly called over to down a pint and I sighed leaning back into the sofa so Quinn moved herself on top of me, straddling me with her legs.

"I have you all to myself now." She murmured, running her palms all the way down my chest and back up again, a sexy smile spreading across her face. I grinned back.

"You do indeed."

"SPIN THE BOTTLE!" It was an hour later. Everyone was a lot more drunk, including me. The reserve kicker Sam Evans had picked up a newly finished beer bottle and held it in the air, shouting the immortal words that had sent everyone crashing to the living room floor in what couldn't really be described as a circle. Quinn had pulled me over and draped herself across my lap – we'd been getting pretty frisky but hadn't really gone much past 2nd base. To be honest I was getting rather agitated.

"Everyone ready!" A chorus of yes went around the room. I noticed Rachel sitting across the circle from me, her eyes trained in a dreamy gaze on Finn who was a few people away to my right. How the hell she had managed to get into this party I had no idea. Maybe she was Finn's relative too. Actually, that was gross. Rory sat next to me and gave me a hearty pat on the shoulder, which I smiled weakly at before looking away. Puck was the other side of Quinn and pulled her up, laughing as she clawed at my shoulder.

"Come on baby, you need to sit up straight so we can determine between you and your boyfriend for seven minutes in heaven."

"Seven minutes in heaven?" Just as I asked the question the words were repeated much louder by Sam, everyone cheered again and I shuffled forward into a better seated position. Seven minutes in heaven. I could deal with that. As long as I was with Quinn. Glancing to the side at my girlfriend I suddenly began to think of what would happen if I got her in that cupboard with me. Oh Jesus. She was drunk, which cancelled out some things, but just drunk enough to want to do crazy stuff. Fuck, the things I would do to her in that cupboard… Almost instantly I felt myself getting hard, covering myself up with my shirt as the bottle was placed in the centre of the circle and slowly beginning to pray to Jesus as it spun. Oh Lord, let me get Quinn, please Quinn…

Round and round the glass went, passing past everyone several times, before slowly and surely coming to a stop. In front of me.

"Blaine!" Sam shouted out my name and I received another slap on the back from Rory. Well, the first part of my plan had been successful – maybe that bearded dude up in the sky really did work. He was obviously a hot-blooded male like I was. And right now we both wanted sex.

"Who's Blaine gonna get?"

"Spin! Spin!"

"I wouldn't mind seven minutes in heaven with him…" I never saw who that girl was, my eyes fixed on the bottle that would hopefully lead me to seven minutes of pure un-adulterated bliss. Sam placed the bottle on the floor again, paused and looked around the room for dramatic drunken effect, then spun it.

He'd really given it some oomph this time – the bottle seemed to spin for hours. Every eye was trained on it, but non as keenly as me. 'Quinn…Quinn…Quinn…' I muttered under my breath. I could almost feel her mouth on her neck right now, her fingers dipping down into my pants, unzipping them slowly…

"It's slowing!" The point moved towards Quinn – I held my breath but it passed her, passed me, carried on towards the other side of the circle. Oh God no. I hadn't actually thought of all the other people here. I didn't want anyone else. There were some hot girls here, but none as good in bed as Quinn. Keep going, you can make it…

The bottle travelled further, almost as if someone was blowing it. I think I was. Eventually though it ran out of steam, stopping right in front of…





This wasn't happening. Not Rachel. Anyone but her. She was so needy – she could squeeze the life out of a situation just by being there. True, she was obsessed with Finn, but this would probably be the spur she needed to transfer her affection to me. Fuck, I had to get out of this.

"Blaine! You and Rachel!" Puck slapped me on the shoulder, leaning over Quinn who had slumped down onto the floor. I didn't even try to help her, too preoccupied with my own state.

"Dude, shut up!" I said, my voice strained and hissing. My friend laughed, looking across at some of the other guys and I saw Finn smiling at me. I was going to murder him. Just for looking at me in that way. I would turn the whole football team against him.

"Get to it!" I was just about to be dragged to my feet, Rachel receiving the same treatment, when Sam held up his hand.

"Stop!" Immediately everyone froze. We all looked at him to see his face stretched into a wide grin. What did that little fucker want now.

"Look at the bottle." Every eye moved to stare at the glass, still in the same position. Well done dumbass. Had he only just realised it had stopped?

"What's your point jackass?" Puck replied, obviously wanting to get my torturing underway. Sam's grin widened.

"It's not pointing at Rachel." Oh thank God. I was saved. I didn't even care if it was or not. Now that had been said there was no way I was going through with it.

"Great. This whole shit is void." Everyone was too busy staring at the bottle to hear my comment, I went to leave and take Quinn with me but Puck grabbed hold of my shoulder, stopping me.

"He's right." What? What could possibly be happening now? These parties were lame – I didn't even know why I'd come.

"Who's it pointing at then?"

"Look." Puck raised his hand slowly and everyone followed it to see where it lead. Wanting to humour him I let my eyes scan in the direction of his finger, wondering if there was going to be a plant pot or something that he would find equally hilarious. Then my whole stomach dropped.


"No! No freakin WAY!" Immediately I stepped back, frantically trying to shake off Puck's hand, which was being annoyingly persistent. He laughed and I tried to look away from the scene that was unfolding in front of me. The scene I never ever wanted to see. That boy was there. That Kurt boy that was gay as gay and shouldn't even be at this goddamn party. He'd been sitting away from the circle, not wanting to play the game or not being invited, but somehow he was there in that gap between Rachel and some other girl and he was being pointed at and dragged to his feet. Oh no. I couldn't do this.

"Guys, seriously, this is not cool." Suddenly Rachel seemed very appealing. Rachel seemed like heaven. At least she was a girl. I wished Sam had never stood up and spoken those stupid words, I wished that I'd never sat down and played this freakin game. I could have sex with Quinn any time I wanted – why had I needed to validate it? The boner I'd had previously was now well and truly gone, replaced with a sickening feeling in my stomach that made me want to hurl. Fuck.

"Come on Blaine – the clock's ticking!" Puck tried to pull me towards the crowd of people again but I lashed out, hitting his arm wildly with my hand.

"Fuck you Puckerman."

"It's only 7 minutes!"

"I'm sure the gays don't bite!"

"You might enjoy it!" Oh God, everyone was joining in. They were ganging up on me, bearing down and grabbing various different parts of my body - pulling me towards the cupboard. This was not happening. Everyone loved me. They would never do this. Was this some kind of revenge for all the times I'd ignored them for something better? Had Finn set me up? I was going to murder anyone who got in my way. They would pay for this.

The cupboard was getting closer and nobody was helping me. The gay boy had already been shoved inside and he seemed to not be making any noise – I was kicking and screaming like hell. Why was everyone so on board with this? Were they suddenly pro-gay? We reached the entrance to the cupboard and I braced myself against the edges, not looking inside at the horror I was in the process of being subjected to.

"Guys fucking stop it! This isn't funny anymore I won't do it!" Where was Quinn? Where was fucking Quinn?

"It's time to man up Blainey-boy!" In one swift motion I felt the thud of a boot to the small of my back – the force took me by surprise and sent me jolting forward, tumbling into a selection of coats so my shout was muffled and the sound of laughter drowned out with a slamming door.

The whole room went dark.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!" Immediately I turned round, trying to feel my way through the blackness for a handle, reaching the wood of the door and banging my fists against it loudly.

"I HATE YOU! YOU'RE ALL DEAD! I'M GOING TO SLIT YOUR THROATS!" My voice was beginning to go hoarse and the sound of it made me even more angry. I could hear some sniggers from outside but nobody opened a door, nobody gave in. I was trapped.

Eventually my eyes began to adjust to the light and I felt my way to the ground again, shifting my body so it was pressed against the furthermost wall of the cupboard. My hands scrabbled to pull my shirt over my head and the coarse cotton rubbed against my face. I hadn't even looked to my right and I didn't want to. If I closed my eyes and waited long enough I might never have to look at him at all – then the door would open and I would kick everyone's ass. There was no sound from the other end and I didn't know if that was a good thing. He could be passed out for all I cared. I didn't care.

"This is ridiculous." I muttered to myself. "Fucking ridiculous." I had been monopolised by my own friends. Pressured into something. This was bullying. I would report them all to that stupid Bullywhip campaign thing and they would sort them out. Or I would sort them out myself. The anger coursing through my veins was almost making me shake, so I put my head between my knees and tried to start counting the seconds until I would be let out.

"Are you ok?" The voice pierced through the silence so I jumped, knocking my foot against the wall. It almost sounded like a girl had spoken but I knew it wasn't. There weren't any girls here.

"I'm fine. Just shut the hell up and we can get through this without talking." I still didn't lift my head, wanting to block out what was happening and still trying to frantically count numbers in my mind. I hadn't even got up to 60 yet. I expected to hear a reply but heeded nothing – eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I lifted my head to see Kurt staring back at me. His face was still exactly the same, porcelain white, and it looked even more so in the dim light he had conjured by turning on his phone. I didn't like his face, there was something strange about it. I didn't want to say it was beautiful because he was a boy, and there was nothing beautiful about boys. There was an annoying expression on it though – he looked worried. Worried for me.

"What?" The retort came out harsher than I'd meant it to, or maybe exactly how I had. Kurt shrunk backwards slightly but didn't seem put off. He glanced down at his phone to check the light and then returned his gaze to me, staring.

"Are you a homophobe?" The question caught me completely off guard. I let go of my legs and they fell with a thunk to the floor, making Kurt flinch again.

"What? Don't be stupid." Who did this guy think he was? He was accusing me before he even knew me.

"It's just you don't seem to like me very much." I laughed, a harsh laugh that echoed around the small room. Great. I'd said one thing about this guy and now he thought I was damning his whole race. Man, these gays were touchy.

"Yeah, I hate you. That's why I'm sitting here in a cupboard ten inches away."

"Well that's not exactly by choice."

"Exactly." God this guy was thick. I thought about knocking him out so I wouldn't have to face this conversation for the remaining five minutes, but figured it would be too hard to explain when I got out. Plus he was so small and fragile I could probably cause some serious damage. Kurt fell silent for a couple of seconds, bringing his knees up to his chest so I could see his long boots reflecting in the light. He rested his chin on one of them and my eyes fell upon the length of his eyelashes, fluttering slightly as he looked down at the ground. Then I realised what I was doing and quickly looked away.

"Is that girl your girlfriend?" Once again the high-pitched voice spoke out, catching me by surprise for the second time.

"Who? Quinn?"

"The girl you were kissing." Hah. Kissing. I don't think what we'd been doing could be described as simply kissing. I decided to humour him.


"Oh." Kurt looked slightly sad, and for a second the expression confused me. Then I realised.

"Dude. I'm straight. Stop trying to come onto me."

"I'm not."

"Yeah you are." These guys were all the same, jumping on anything that has a dick and moved. "You think I'm hot stuff." I decided that this was a fun route to go down, mercilessly teasing this boy. I'd been bullied by my so-called friends so I might as well bully him. Show him how it felt. Kurt looked hurt and a wide grin spread across my face.

"Do you want my cock?" I said as seductively as I could, shuffling forward and leaning over so my face was near his ear. "Do you want it in your mouth? I bet you do." He squirmed and I chuckled, marvelling at the way his fine muscles rippled across his defined back. "You want all of me, right now. But you won't get it."

"I saw you staring at me earlier." Suddenly I froze. My mouth drew back and I became guarded again.


"Earlier. I came into the room and you were on the sofa with your girlfriend. You stared at me." Fuck. What was this guy talking about? How had he seen me? We hadn't even had eye contact.

"That's bullshit." I moved back to the other side of the room, not liking where the conversation was heading. This little fucker needed to shut his mouth right now.

"No it's not. I saw you." Kurt wasn't even smiling. He didn't seem vindicated by this information. He was just saying it.

"You're wrong. I was looking at something else."

"Then you asked Noah about me. Finn's friend." It took me a while to process the name Noah into my memory, before I remembered Puck's real name. Then my blood turned a few degrees closer to zero.

"Why did you do that?" I wasn't answering the question. I wasn't saying another fucking word until the seven minutes were up and I was out of this hellhole.

"I just wanted to know who you were." Fuck. I almost punched myself in the stomach. Kurt paused, seeming to ponder the insight he had just been given. I found myself glancing up at him again and realised he was rubbing at his neck slowly with the palm of his hand. Wow. That movement was almost…erotic.

"Do you like me?" The words sent me spinning back into reality. Kurt moved his gaze to look directly at me, his eyes suddenly piercing and questioning. I flattened myself up against the wall.

"Hell no. I'm straight. You're a guy. And you're weird." My eyes glanced towards the crack in the door, praying that somehow seven minutes had passed and I was about to be set free. Kurt continued to look at me, a curious look spreading across his face, and to my horror he suddenly began to move across the floor towards me.

"Oh no. Stay away! Stay away from me you freak!" I scrambled frantically against the wall, realising I had nowhere to go but still trying to get away. Kurt advanced closer, travelling rather like a cat, and when he got to within touching distance of me stopped, sitting back down oh his haunches. He let us fall back into silence for a couple of seconds before cocking his head to the side and smiling.

"Have you ever kissed a boy before?"

I was about to shout a reply – something along the lines of 'no freakin way', when suddenly Kurt placed his hand on my thigh and ran it slowly up. The feeling shot through me like electricity.

"OhGod." I thought I sounded scared, but he didn't seem to flinch away, even when my arms flew out to smack against the wall. Why they weren't reaching out to wrench his hand off my leg I didn't know – it was still just sitting there. I think it was still moving.

"Would you like to kiss a boy?" He continued, moving his whole body a little bit closer so his hand also moved and I let out an embarrassing whimper. "Because I'll kiss you. If you want…" Every inch of my brain was screaming 'get me out'. My leg was close enough to the door to kick it, closer enough to alert everyone of what was happening and get me the hell away. But somehow I couldn't get it to move. Kurt took my silence as a cue to move forward and suddenly his face was inches from mine. I squirmed away but he brought up his other hand to gently catch my face. The first one was now resting on my inner thigh and the feeling of it was making me sweat.

"Blaine?" I didn't respond. The sound of his name on my lips sent an unknown feeling through me that made me shiver. How did her even know my name? "I'm going to kiss you now." His voice had taken on a whispery quality, one that caused my whole body to shake. "If you don't want me to do it, shake your head." As his thumb slowly caressed my cheekbone I fought every muscle in my body to move. I fought to shake my head, to tell him no and stop this whole complete mess of a thing that was happening. I couldn't move an inch. Kurt smiled, running the thumb down to rest under my ear, hooking the rest of his fingers under my chin so he could pull it up gently for a better angle. Then slowly, he opened his rose pink lips and moved them to press against mine.

I don't know what I was expecting to feel. I guess half of me was expecting repulsion – after all, I was kissing a boy. Or he was kissing me. I'd always wondered if boys lips felt different to girls, and if it felt better for a girl to kiss us than it did to kiss them. What I wasn't expecting, however, was the emotion that coursed through me just as those boy lips touched mine.


Without even realising it I exhaled, right into Kurt's mouth. His eyes widened in surprise and I tried to pull away, tried to tell myself that this was immoral and wrong and for heavens sake I was kissing a guy. But I couldn't. Kurt deepened the kiss slightly, gaining more confidence with my reaction and I responded, bringing my hand up to press lightly against the back of his neck. His hair was incredibly soft, and I almost got distracted by that until the hand on my face dug in and I realised he was climbing on top of me. Oh my God a boy was straddling me.

Once Kurt was in position he kissed me even deeper, pushing us both back so my head hit the wall with a soft thud. His other hand had moved to cup the opposite side of my face and as we kissed I felt his tongue poke against my teeth. Again the immoral senses were tingling, but to be honest I was way past that point by now. I let him in and groaned when I felt his tongue begin to explore. He tasted amazing. Like coffee and cinnamon with just a hint of bourbon. Quinn always tasted of chewing gum or whiskey. Or me. Again sensing my pleasure Kurt pressed his chest further into mine and I let my hands travel south, leaving his soft hair behind and moving down his spine, across his shoulders and resting in the small of his back. He seemed to like this, grinding against me and I moaned, causing him to do the same. Fuck. This was so hot it was driving me crazy. Somehow the fact that we were both guys didn't seem to do anything to quench the desire – both of us were horny as fuck and shit he was a good kisser. Shit he knew just how to touch me in all the right places, to push my buttons until I was practically begging for more. I wanted more.

"Kurt" I breathed, causing me to break away and stare at me with those piercing eyes. Beautiful pools of blue.

"Yes?" He asked. I went to respond but instead ran my fingers down his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt. His temporary frown turned into a smile and he kissed me again fervently, allowing me to undo the buttons but still grinding against me incessantly. I was so filled with lust I could barely move my fingers but eventually they popped open and I ran my hands across his skin, gasping at how good it felt.

"Fuck." Kurt moved to attend to my shirt and I let him, stroking him harder as his hands explored across me, my pelvis bucking up uncontrollably and my dick getting undeniably and painfully hard. This was all I ever wanted. I was drunk – I knew I was drunk – but somehow, despite everything, even with Quinn outside and a reputation to uphold, this just felt so right. Through all the bravado and cockiness I just wanted someone to make me feel alive. Someone to take me away from the world outside and just…be a fantasy. I was in heaven.

As Kurt delved his hand into my pants, neither of us were even thinking about the time. Neither of us noticed that seven minutes had indeed passed, or the sound of the door unlocking and slowly opening to reveal a crowd of drunken party-goers outside…