A/N: Blaine gets drunk and handsy at a party. Silliness ensues.

"Kiss me! Kiss me!"

Blaine has got Kurt pinned up against a wall, their hips fitted perfectly together and his mouth running hot up and down Kurt's neck. "Kiss me," he whines again as he sucks at Kurt's jaw. One of Blaine's knees knocks between Kurt's, spreading his legs open far enough to rub his thigh up roughly against Kurt's cock.

"I want you so bad."

Kurt giggles, muffling the sound in Blaine's hair and trying to push him back at the shoulders once more.

But Blaine is relentless, whining too-loudly and rubbing his blatantly hard cock into Kurt's hip, rutting hopelessly as his tongue works haphazardly to find the pulse in Kurt's neck.

"Want you so fucking bad. Kiss me."

Then Blaine hiccups and Kurt completely cracks up, his head falling forward into the crook of Blaine's shoulder as he laughs and laughs and Blaine just keeps ridding against his hip. "Kurt…." he whines.

"You have to stop, baby," Kurt finally says, his hands finding Blaine's hips and pushing a little more firmly.

Blaine's mouth closes on Kurt's chin and he kisses there sloppily. "Why?"

Laughter bubbles up again and out of the corner of his eye Kurt sees Finn do a double take as he walks past the open doorway. Kurt manages to control his grin, roll his eyes and then ignore Finn who quickly disappears.

"Maybe because we're in Rachel's entrance hall and you seem to be trying pretty hard to come in your pants?"

"I want you so bad," Blaine mumbles before he's even processed what Kurt has said. And then his eyes snap open and dart around, seemingly, finally, remembering where they are. "Oh," he mumbles sheepishly.

Kurt steps back and tries not to laugh when he glances down at Blaine: shirt rucked up to expose a sliver of skin, bowtie undone and a touch ridiculous, outline of his hard cock entirely unfair in off-white capris.

"I'm drunk again aren't I?" Blaine mumbles, stepping back and wringing his hands.

Kurt nods, slowly.

"And I was trying to…" Blaine's face falls and the red flush starts to fade. "I am so fucking stupid. God, I am so, so—"

Kurt cuts him of with a quick press of his mouth over Blaine's. "Shut up," he says through a grin, keeping his hands on Blaine's hips, keeping inches between them because what he really needs is for Blaine to calm down. "I'm a bit drunk, too," he reveals.

Blaine still looks miserable. It is such a start contrast to sixty seconds ago when he was sucking on Kurt's chin.

"Why do I always do that?" Blaine mumbles, trying to right himself and not meet Kurt's eyes.

"Do what?"

"Attack you when I drink?" Blaine moves back away from Kurt, still pouting and Kurt kind of thinks he's adorable, blatant erection and all.

"Because it makes you a bit wild." Kurt follows him to the front door of the house, away from the sounds of the party going on in the lounge. "Blaine," Kurt grabs at his wrist and pulls him around to look at him. The face he's met with is too much. "Stop pouting."

Blaine pouts harder.

"Stop it," Kurt says through a giggle and something in his chest stutters and it feels more than usual, the rush of love, and he wonders if it's all the schnapps he's been drinking. "I like you like this."

"You hate me like this," Blaine counters.

"No, I love you like this," Kurt corrects, hands on Blaine's cheeks. "I know what you're thinking."

Still so damn adorably petulant: "No you don't."

"You're thinking I didn't like you like this at Scandals."

Blaine's eyes go wide as though Kurt's just read his mind.

"And that's true. I didn't want our first time to be drunk and sloppy. But I am absolutely okay with our hundredth time being drunk and sloppy."

Blaine is still staring at him with wide, dark eyes. He says in a small voice: "We haven't had sex a hundred times."

Kurt thinks maybe they have but he's not about to argue that in the entrance hall of Rachel's parents' house at their very last party of the summer. "Shut up," he mumbles and then slides his body against Blaine's, hands down Blaine's chest and around his back to pull him in close. Standing entwined, the kiss is languid and easy and Kurt hopes it's not turning Blaine on more.

When he pulls back Blaine seems to have thought a little bit. "You don't mind that I'm like this?" He rocks his hips for emphasis.

Gasping, Kurt pushes him away again. "No," he says breathless. "But I am not letting you get off against my hips wearing off-white pants with everyone in the next room."

"Why not?"

Exasperated, Kurt takes an extra second to notice the dopey grin on Blaine's face. "Blaine," he chides.

"But one day you wanna have drunk sex with me?"

Before Kurt has a chance to respond, again, there's a shriek from the other end of the hall and when he blinks once slowly and looks, just as he suspected, Santana is standing there with wide eyes and a grin on her lips. Brittney is hanging off her shoulder.

"You mean to say you guys have had sex sober?" she crows. " I thought Hummel would need at least a few shots to stop blushing and get out of his pants."

Kurt only just has the presence of mind to stay between Blaine and Santana as they untangle and try not to blush.

Kurt closes his eyes and prays: Please don't say anything, please don't say anything. Maybe he's not that drunk, maybe he won't rise to the challenge.

Blaine takes a deep breath and Kurt wishes he'd thought to slap a hand down over Blaine's mouth. "Santana, I will have you know that Kurt and I have had sex one hundred times!"

Oh so he agrees with me now.