Finn can't believe that Rachel actually let Puck pop open her dads' liquor cabinet, but he's not surprised that things went this far this fast. He'd seen the inevitable downward spiral that always resulted from Santana doing body shots off of Britney before, and he'd expected the added drama of a bunch of nerds who had never been drinking before. He hadn't expected Lauren Zises to have the tolerance of an Irish dockworker, but maybe he should have.

Either way, he figured it was best that someone stay sober, so, after going upstairs and stealing Santana's keys out of her coat just in case, he poured himself a cup of coke and sat back to watch the train wreck extravaganza.

Quinn was sitting in the corner, taking long pulls from her red cup and watching something. Finn follows her gaze to Sam and Santana making out, before Santana pushes Sam off, screams something and pulls him back. Quinn drains her and returns to the counter where the entire contents of Rachel's fathers' liquor cabinet are laying open. She starts randomly pouring things into her cup.

Finn takes a couple steps toward her, planning to offer to mix her a real drink, and stops. Quinn doesn't need to deal with him on top of everything thing else in her life. She deserves a night to just… be irresponsible, and not suffer any consequences. He goes over to the counter.

"Hey," he says, grabbing the bottle of coke.

"Don't make this worse, Finn," she snaps.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm designated driver. So if you need a ride, let me know."

She pauses, and takes the coke bottle from Finn, "Thank you."

He nodded at her and wandered back out into the party.

Kurt dances up to him, and Finn hopes like hell he's not an affectionate drunk. The two of them have made way too much progress as step brothers for a couple of drinks to dredge up all this crush bullshit again.

"Are you drinking?" Kurt asks, dancing as though no one around him can see them.

"No. Designated driver," Finn replies, "You?"

"No. Still trying to impress Blaine. Can't get too sloppy."

Finn has to admit that is sort of sweet. Until he and his step brother turn to see Blaine dancing by himself in the corner, also as though no one can see him, but in a very different way, and clearly three drinks past sloppy.

"Clearly he doesn't have the same concern," Kurt admits.

Blaine stumbles over, and throws him arm around Finn. Finn wonders what the hell it is that gay dudes see in him.

Blaine stammers out something drunk and stupid, nearly falls off of Rachel's stage, and he and Kurt wander off where they get sucked into a conversation with Sam, who Kurt mentioned used to go to Dalton and sort of knew Blaine.

Rachel comes onto him, and he takes pity on her. She's never been drunk, the whole social thing isn't easy for her, he can help her out tonight.

"Okay, Rachel, I know this is your first time at this, so let me break a few things down for you. People fall into certain archetypes while drunk," he begins pointing around the room "For example- Santana. The needy hysterical drunk. Britney the girl who turns into a stripper, and Artie, the guy who turns into a rap video," he points across the room to Puck and Mike Chang, who are sitting face to face pointing and occasionally high-fiving, "Puck and Mike Chang. The mellow, philosophical drunks, who will sit around and talk bullshit, then convince themselves it's all brilliant. Quinn and Lauren. Angry Girl drunks. Tina, Sam, Mercedes, and apparently Blaine. Happy Drunks. Then we come full circle to you. Needy Drunk. You're all hanging over me and getting lovey-dovey. It's not cool. And I'm not going to let you blame it on the alcohol."

Rachel doesn't look as hurt as he expected her too. She pulls back, and becomes the lonely nerd variation of Needy Girl Drunk.

"Spin the Bottle! Who wants to play Spin the Bottle!"

A cheer goes up, a circle is formed and Rachel downs the last sip of her wine cooler before setting the bottle in the middle. Santana calls them all losers and pours herself another drink.

Tina goes first, and lands on Mercedes. They share a friendly peck and both dissolve into hysterical giggles. Finn wonders if it's too late to sit out. If he lands on Rachel, only bad can happen, if he lands on Quinn, nothing good can happen. Puck's totally mellow drunk may not extend to Finn landing on Lauren… and anyone else is still a glee club girl.

Britney, still wearing only her bra, takes her turn, and lands on Mike. Mike shoots Tina a quick look before moving forward, and Britney grabs the back of his head and kisses him. Mike's eyes widen, Britney doesn't stop, and Finn sees Tina's mouth drop open. But before she can say anything, Santana has Mike by the back of the head.

"Alright, kids, this isn't a fucking big red commercial. No me gusta."

Sam grabs her hand and tries to get her to sit down and play. Santana throws his arm off.

"My turn!" Rachel declares. Finns stomach clenches. This is exactly what he's been dreading. He should have just sat at the bar with Santana and hoped she didn't flip out and hit him.

Rachel lands on Puck, who laughs, shrugs, moves forward and gives her a quick friendly peck. Finn ignores the little lick of jealousy in his stomach. It's not really for Rachel, it's more for the fact that she and Puck seemed to have moved from dating to not dating so easily, and he still has to do shit like pull her off of him when she's drunk.

"Kurt's turn!" Rachel cries. Mercedes claps and Kurt rolls his eyes, spins the bottle and endures Mercedes and Rachel as they start a drum roll on their thighs.

The bottle lands on Sam and a laugh breaks out.

"Nah, Nah, dog that's a do over," Artie declares.

Kurt shrugs, but Sam throws out an arm.

"Wait, that's not fair," Sam laughs, "It's his turn." He waves his fingers at Kurt in a "come here" gesture, "Come on. Mercedes and Tina did it."

"It's fine," Kurt waves a hand in front of him.

"Come on," Sam laughs, "You won't catch "the straight" I promise."

Kurt rolls his eyes again, but leans forward a little ways, his lips pressed tightly together. Sam repeats Britney's maneuver almost exactly. It's an uncomfortable moment, not just because it's a little weird, but because of the way Blaine starts laughing into his hands, and the way Sam's trying to open mouth Finns' freaking step brother. Santana grabs him by the hair and pulls him away too.

The threat of Santana's irrational vengeance, and the overall drunkenness of everyone involved break up the game. Rachel finds her way back to the microphone, and all it takes is an off tune rendition of "Endless Love" to kill the party.

Puck calls a cab for him and Lauren, and Finn starts herding up people who need rides.

"Awww…thanks for the ride, guys," Blaine laughs as Finn helps Kurt pull him out of the back seat of the car.

"No problem," Finn sighs tiredly. He's already hauled a lot of drunks home tonight, and he's exhausted. Puck and Mike had nearly dropped Artie carrying him up Rachel's stairs. Quinn and Britney had nearly thrown up when he took them home. The one grace of the night was that most of the girls had opted to sleep over at Rachel's meaning that the amount of trips he had to take had been cut down, and he hadn't had to take Santana and Quinn home at the same time, and risk one of them brutally murdering the other.

Blaine bumps his head as he pops out of the car, over balances and falls into Finn's chest with a "ohh…whoops." and a giggle.

At least Kurt seems as sick of this whole night as Finn is, because Finn has no intention of being on the other end of a dude's crush again. Kurt pulls Blaine back with his lips pursed tightly into his "I can't believe this is my life" face, and ducks under Blaine's arm.

"Come on," Kurt sighs, "Let's get you inside."

"Awww…thanks for the ride guys," Blaine repeats. Finn shuts the car door.

"Is this your house?" Blaine asks as Kurt pulls him up to the door.

"Yeah," Kurt answers, fumbling with the knob. Finn pulls it open and steps in front of them.

"It's nice." Blaine slurs.

"Shhh," Finn hushes him, "Come on, our parents are asleep. You've got to be quiet."

"Oh, sorry!" Blaine replies in a stage whisper.

"Come on, let's just get you in bed," Kurt mutters, pulling Blaine toward the stairs. Finn stops for a second, then grabs Kurt's free arm.

"Wait… where is he sleeping?"

"In my room," Kurt answers matter of factly.

"Really?" Finn demands. Kurt gives him the look that means he thinks he's being an idiot, "Do you thinks that's a good idea?"

"Oh… I need to lie down," Blaine moans.

"Do you think it's a better idea to leave him down here to wander around the house? Just help me get him up the stairs."

Finn grabs Blaine around the waist, Blaine giggles again, and the three boys make their way slowly up the stairs. Finn lets go of them at the top of the stairs.

"Kurt, hold up a second," Finn says.

Kurt sighs but turns around, leaving Blaine to slowly tip into the wall of the hallway.

"What, Finn?"

"Are you really going to have the… this guy… sleep in your bed, when he's so trashed he can't stand?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you again, Finn," Kurt's voice gets that edge to it, he points back at Blaine, who looks like he's about to slide down the wall, and continues, "You're right. He's so trashed that he can't stand. It's not exactly a turn on. Nothing's going to happen. Thanks for helping me get him up the stairs. Goodnight."

Kurt turns, and hauls Blaine's arm back over his shoulders.

"Thanks, Finn," Blaine calls. Kurt shushes him.

"Come on, Blaine," Kurt mutters. He hauls him down to his bedroom door, pulls it open and disappears.

Finn, figuring that his bedroom is several feet of hallway down from Kurt's and they have the bathroom between them, decides not to worry about it anymore.

"This was so much fun," Blaine says, falling back into Kurt's bed, "I've never been to a real party. Warbler parties aren't like this. We have them in the common room, and we all wear our uniforms, and there are cheese cubes, and once, Henderson brought of bottle of champagne, but it turned out to be sparkling cider."

"That's not surprising," Kurt says, bending down to take off Blaine's shoes.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Blaine asks.

"Yeah. It was okay."

"You should have had a drink."

Kurt pulls off Blaine's shoes, wondering momentarily what on earth he actually sees in this boy, and drops them onto the floor.

"Maybe next time."

Blaine wiggles his toes, sits up and gives Kurt his huge dopey smile.

Oh right. That's what he sees in him.

"Thanks for letting me stay here," he says, before sliding his way back up Kurt's bed. He doesn't sit up to do it. He shimmies, lifting up his knees and pushing his shoulders back a couple of times until his head hits the pillows.

"No problem." Kurt clears his throat uncomfortably and moves toward his dresser. He digs out his pajamas, and shoots a quick look at Blaine, who is laying still, looking in Kurt's direction, though probably not at him.

"I'm going to the bathroom."

"I'll come with, I need some water."

"I'll bring you some," Kurt cuts him off. He hurries out in to the hall, lets himself be thankful that Finn isn't still out there, and goes to the bathroom.

He flicks the light on, uses the restroom, watches his hands and catches sight of himself in the mirror.

Blaine is in his bed.

He's drunk, and fully dressed, and has been acting like a total idiot all night. For the last few weeks actually. But he smiled at Kurt in that sweet way.

And he is in his bed.

Kurt sets his folded pajamas on the bathroom counter, undoes and pulls off his tie, then begins to unbutton his shirt. Maybe he should have worn something else. The red shirt and leather pants is a little… Hitler youth. He drops the shirt to the floor and stands in front of the mirror in just the pants. It's a little glam rock now. He looks cute.

He turns to the side and pulls his boufanted hair down over his face a little.

He looks hot.

Hot enough for Blaine?

He shakes his head. Maybe letting Blaine stay over wasn't as innocent as he wanted to believe it was. Worse, maybe Finn had been right.

He sighs, pulls his pajama shirt on, pulls the leather pants off and replaces them with his pajama pants. He unbuttons the top button of his pajama shirt, looks at himself in the mirror, buttons it back up and pours Blaine a glass of water.

Back in his room, Blaine has pulled himself under the covers. Kurt sets the glass of water down on the nightstand and climbs into bed.

"Soo…" Blaine murmurs. Kurt's heart jumps. "Sam really planted one on you."

"Oh. Yeah," Kurt replies. "I guess he was really wasted."

"It's nice that he was so chill though, right?"

"Was Sam in the Warblers when he was at Dalton?" Kurt asks.

"No. I didn't really know him. He was just… sort of a dweeb. I mean… nice, but…dweeby. Dweeb. That's such a weird word. Dweeb. Dweeb. Dweeb."

"Yep. Weird word," Kurt agrees.

"So… how many…" Kurt feels the bed shift as Blaine moves on the other side, "How many people have you kissed?"

"Still nothing that really counts."

"Sam doesn't count?"

"Spin the bottle doesn't count."

"And if we're gonna count the things that don't count?" Blaine asks quietly.

"Umm… fine. Britney- the girl who started stripping. And Sam."

"Karofsky doesn't count?"

"No. He doesn't," Kurt spits, turning his head to face Blaine. Blaine has moved closer to him, and is laying on his side now, watching him.

"Hey, hey," Blaine drops his hand heavily onto Kurt's arm. Kurt's back stiffens. "Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad."

"I know. It's fine."

Blaine's hand moves up Kurt's arm, over his shoulder, and back down.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

Blaine is quiet for a moment, his hand still moving on Kurt's arm.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"I've never kissed anyone. At all."

"Oh," Kurt manages. He heart starts going into over drive, starting slow, then beginning to thunder faster and faster. Blaine shifts a little closer to him, his hand on Kurt's shoulder sliding up to his neck.

Kurt sets his hand to Blaine's collarbone.

"How drunk are you?"

"Not too drunk for this," Blaine replies.

Kurt shakes his head, "Yes you are."

"I just want to kiss you."

"No. You just want to kiss someone. I want to kiss you," He pushes against Blaine's collar, not hard enough to actually push him away, but enough to make Blaine back up a little. "And I don't want to do it like this. This, a drunk kiss that you aren't even going to remember in the morning? That's not going to count either."

Blaine rolls onto his back. "Sorry."

"Goodnight," Kurt replies. He rolls his back to Blaine and lays still. It's hardly any time at all before Blaine starts snoring.

Part Two is on its way.