A/N: This is the first of many little ficlets and drabbles. I hope you enjoy reading my little creativity practice as much as I enjoy writing it.

Kurt really didn't remember when he had decided that it would be much more preferable to sit on Blaine's lap then to sit somewhere on the big leather couch they had to themselves. But by now, he didn't care, it was way too nice to feel Blaine's arms snake around his waist, absent-minded hands drawing circles on his belly. He could feel their warmth through the thin fabric of the Dalton dress shirt, and Blaine's breath on his ear when he giggled over a random comment Wes or David made while being sprawled across the floor with their drinks.

Blaine remembered too well how Kurt started scooting closer the more he had drunk. And it had made him really nervous, a feeling he normally tried to avoid. Too bad that didn't seem to work when he was around Kurt. So in order to distract himself and to get himself to relax, he drank, and then drank some more. And by the time Kurt lost all sense of decency and crawled onto his lap, wriggling into place without thinking about it, Blaine was tipsy enough to just enjoy it. Now wasn't the time for regrets, now was the time to enjoy Kurt being cuddly and for once not afraid to open himself up. Okay, so maybe he enjoyed having this hot guy sitting on him for selfish reasons, too. But he was allowed to be selfish sometimes, right? And his alcohol-diffused mind didn't find any reason to object while he held Kurt a little tighter, maybe breathing into his ear not completely accidentally…

Okay, Blaine definitely lost his sense of balance during the last hour, probably mostly due to a not so small quantity of alcohol running through his veins. How else could he explain why he joined Kurt on the floor instead of keeping him from falling off his lap in a laughing fit?

But here he was, lying on top of a flushed and still giggling Kurt, their bottles - luckily empty - rolling underneath the couch they had been sitting on just now. Blaine could feel Kurt's chest vibrating with his ragged breath which kept brushing past the skin of his face; the long fingered hand lazily making its way to the small of his back. And he could see Kurt, his eyes closed, licking his lips as if to savor the taste on them. Blaine had to stop himself from wondering what they tasted like - vanilla? strawberries? probably beer, that was the last thing they had been drinking.

Before he could dwell on these thoughts any longer, he decided to retreat. He really shouldn't think that way about taking advantage of his best friend's intoxication. But before he could get far, Kurt grabbed his loosened tie and pulled him closer. Opening his glasz eyes, the adorable countertenor started to pout. Oh my god, how cute could one person possibly be?
Blaine could hardly resist the begging look in Kurts eyes, and finally settled back on top of the other. "You don't want me to leave?"
All he got as an answer was a head shake.
"Any specific reason you want me to stay?"
A nod this time, and the most precious blush spreading across Kurt's cheeks.
"So, what might this reason be?"
A tug on his tie, bringing Blaine closer to Kurt's face, closer to those lips that had captivated Blaine so much ever since that day at McKinley, those lips which Kurt now nervously bit. Why couldn't Blaine tear his eyes from those perfect, plump lips? If he closed in any further, he would take advantage of Kurt, he needed to control himself…

But before Blaine even finished that thought, he already had pressed his lips to Kurt's, drawing a soft sigh from the teenage beneath him. They tasted like beer, grapefruit and Kurt. And they were so unbelievably soft. Keeping this first kiss innocent, Blaine soon pulled back a little to look into Kurt's eyes, scared to see regret, or worse, hurt in them. What greeted him was a happy glimmer and a soft whisper "Thanks, Prince Eric… now I have my voice back"