I hope that you all had a fantastic holiday season, whatever it may be that you celebrate. In preparation for the New Year, I present you with this fic.

So this was semi-inspired by the movie New Year's Eve (and those romantic comedies like it). The M rating is really only for this first chapter. The rest of the story hovers between K+ and T.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or am affiliated with any of the places mentions (and yes, all these places exist. I took great time to look these things up on Google).

Day: New Year's Eve.
Location: The Plaza Hotel.
Time: 11:30 PM

Artie sighed, watching his lead performer announce his retirement from the recording studio, spinning some tale about needing time off to start a family before launching into what would be his final performance under Fresh Beatz Records.

"It had to be done, you know," a voice said next to him.

"I know," he told Tina. "I'm honest to god happy we won't have Sebastian fucking Smythe representing our records anymore, seriously."

"But," the Asian girl prompted.

"But it's going to be rough, you know? Finding a new face for the record."

Tina looked thoughtful. "Well, there's always Anderson."

"The one I just signed?" Artie said in a scandalized voice. Still, he chewed on it a bit, starting to see where Tina was coming from.

"Why not?"

Tina sat her now-empty champagne glass on the table near them.

"He's cute, sings well, and, as far as we know, has a clean track record, unlike Mr. Hotshot over there."

"I like the way you think, Ms. Cohen-Chang."

Tina smirked. "Well that is why you hired me."

Artie was about to respond when an arm curled around Tina's waist, yanking her slightly. She squealed loudly before turning and hitting the person who did it.

"Mike!" she yelled, but a smile played on her features.

Mike pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. He pressed a clenched fist against Artie's, acknowledging each other's presence

"Hope you don't mind if I take my beautiful girlfriend to the dance floor, Artie?"

Artie shook his head, smiling as the pair made their way to the floor. He leaned back in his wheelchair, turning his attention to the stage in front of him, where Sebastian was still performing to the unsuspecting crowd. A glare was exchanged between the two for a fleeting moment, until Sebastian returned to performing. Artie pondered for a few minutes, trying to imagine another person on the stage.

He then wheeled himself out of the room as he pulled out his cell phone. He had a few messages to leave.

Several dances later, Mike and Tina stood outside on the balcony, surveying the streets below them that had lit up in celebration.

"It's so nice out here," Tina commented, leaning her head against Mike's shoulder.

"I love you," Mike looked down at her. He was so caught up in the moment that the words spilled out of him faster than he could handle. "I want to marry you someday."

The smile that lit up Tina's face stopped Mike from internally freaking out.

"Hm, that's nice." She leaned forward slightly. "I love you too. Kiss me?"

"It isn't midnight yet," Mike teased, chuckling.

A hand reached up to cup his face.

"Doesn't matter," Tina said, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

Location: A bar; 55 Little West 12th Street; Brass Monkey

"Man, I just can't believe I was shot down again," Puck said as he downed the last of his beer.

"Relax, dude," Sam said, taking a swig of his own drink. "It was your third time trying to get signed. It'll happen."

Puck rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," he grumbled as he ordered another drink, "so what about you?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know what you mean. Job's good, money's good, life's good."

Puck elbowed him in the side. "You know what I mean. I haven't heard you brag about any conquests lately. Are the ladies not digging the 'pretty boy' look anymore?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Believe me; they want in when they see the abs." He shrugged again, "I don't know, man. I think I'm starting to want like… a real relationship."

"Dude, when was the last time you even had this 'real relationship'?" Puck scoffed.

Sam fidgeted a little.

"I don't know, maybe a few years ago? I don't remember much about her; only that she was dark-skinned and independent."

It was a lie if he ever told one. He remembered a lot more about a certain Ms. Jones than he ever wanted to let on.

"But I don't know, man. It just… felt different. Better, at least, than what I do now."

Puck took a sip at his drink, surprised but not saying so, "whatever floats your boat."

The two sat in silence for a while, casually drinking their beers.

"You know," Sam said after a while. "We should make resolutions, or something."

Puck began to side-eye the man.

"You mean like, promises for the new year?"

Sam nodded, and Puck scoffed. "Sorry, but the Puckermans don't do promises. Those are meant for breaking."

Sam smirked, leaning his glass out towards the other man in a toast. "Then make one to not getting a girlfriend."

Puck smiled, catching on and clinking his glass to Sam's. "And to not getting a real job that I actually want."

The two drank to it, enjoying their companionship as they listened to the New Year's Eve coverage from Time Square on their small, but very clear TV.

Location: The Apartment of Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray

Rachel and Quinn lay in the bed together, snuggling and gaining warmth from each other. They had decided to spend the last couple hours of the year together, making love before they could allow the alcohol to completely take over their systems. That being said, they were both still slightly drunk, leading to the sweet whispered nothings in each other's ears.

Rachel lay on Quinn chest, burrowing into her collarbone as Quinn continued to stroke her dark hair.

"I love you," she muttered drowsily.

Quinn smiled, settling deeper into the pillows behind them. "I love you too."

"Hm…" Rachel mumbled, cuddling closer to Quinn, "what do you want this year?" she asked, placing small chaste kisses near Quinn's throat.

"Anything you want, Quinn, okay?"

Quinn made a small sound of contentment in the back of her throat.

"Anything?" she asked softly.

Rachel nodded, her hair tickling the side of Quinn's face.

"I just want you to be happy, Quinn. I know this year has been a bit difficult for you, so…"

"Kids," Quinn murmured in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Kids?" Rachel said, sounding surprised but not at all upset. She was slipping more and more towards unconsciousness with every passing moment.

"Mmhm."

Quinn kept stroking Rachel's hair, the motion lulling Rachel to sleep faster and faster.

"Whatever you want," Rachel said, falling asleep only moments later.

A grin slowly spread across Quinn's face and she quickly fell asleep as well.

Location: The Apartment of Brittany Pierce

Brittany arched against her own hand, the other clutching the phone beside her ear as she continued to stimulate her clit.

"Oh, Santana," she mumbled into the phone as she neared her climax, circling the nub faster and alternating with hard flicks.

"That's it honey," Santana panted into the phone and Brittany groaned as she pictured her doing the same thing to herself on the other line.

Brittany closed her eyes, imagining that it was Santana on the bed with her and Santana's hand instead of hers, or better yet, Santana's mouth instead of her lone hand. The memories of past pleasure surfaced in her mind and her hips bucked again.

"Fuck, I'm close." She arched again, rubbing faster, harder, just like she knew Santana would if she were there.

"Just let go, Britt," Santana all but purred into her ear. "Just let go."

Brittany's hips bucked once more before she climaxed, a long moan escaping her mouth and into the phone by her ear. She heard the string of curses from Santana's side as she came as well. Brittany closed her eyes again, picturing Santana laying there in her Chicago apartment. It was so far, but she was still thinking of her and panting because of her, coming because of her.

Both of them lay there for a few moments, regaining their breath. Finally, Brittany curled under the covers, drawing a pillow near to her and cuddling it.

"I miss you," she murmured, her voice almost muffled by the pillow.

Santana sighed. "I miss you too."

"How's Chicago?"

She could almost hear Santana shrug through the line.

"It's alright. Nothing beats New York though."

"I wish you could come and visit more often."

"I do too, honey, but you know this branch just opened a year ago and I can't leave them now-"

Brittany sighed. "I know. I know. That doesn't mean I miss you any less though."

"I promise; I'll try and make it up there more often this year."

"Really?" Brittany said hopefully.

"Really. I mean, the phone sex is great and all, but nothing's like the real thing, you know?" Santana teased.

Brittany giggled a little, clutching the pillow tighter. "I know." She yawned tiredly.

"You should try and get some sleep, Britt Britt," Santana said concernedly. "It's almost midnight there, isn't it? Plus you had a long day at the studio, holding a dress rehearsal for the dancers tonight-"

"No!" Brittany interjected quickly. "I mean- I just want to keep talking to you, okay?"

Santana paused for a moment. "Okay," she agreed.

"It just-it's still hard to sleep, when you're not around, you know?"

Santana sighed again. "Believe me, honey. I know."

Location: A Random Roof Party

10... 9… 8… 7… 6…

Blaine chanted with everyone else on the roof as they watched the lit ball descend in the distance, marking the end of the year. He was more than pleasantly buzzed; not drunk off his feet, like some he could mention, but enough that he failed to notice how most people were coupling up with each other, getting ready to share a famous "New Year's Kiss." He did notice, however, a pale, slender man just moving past him, probably towards the maintenance elevator he was next to.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1… HAPPY NEW YEARS!

Blaine laughed and cheered as the speakers from Time Square and the television monitor someone had set up began blaring "Auld Lang Syne". Couples around him began kissing and, not wanting to be left out, he grabbed one of the closest people to him, his drunken mind figuring that it was in the spirit on New Year and therefore would not be awkward if he didn't know the person.

What his drunken mind did not predict was the man he was kissing and yes it registered in his mind that this was a man, kissing him back with just as much passion, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck. The taste of alcohol lingering on both of their lips was probably to blame for their actions, but neither one really cared as they both pulled back in surprise.

They met each other's gaze, still wrapped up in each other and the only thing Blaine could really see were blue, blue eyes that he felt himself falling into. Something unspoken passed between them and they soon met in another passionate kiss, Blaine backing the other man up against wall next to the elevator. The other man managed to work his tongue into Blaine's mouth and was boldly tracing his way around as he tugged Blaine's body closer to him, curling one hand into his hair and the other behind him, pressing the elevator button on the wall. He ran his tongue against the back of Blaine's teeth, swallowing his moan.

The elevator dinged open next to them, and they broke apart in order to concentrate making it into the elevator and closing the metal grate. Everyone else at the party was too distracted. Either by the party itself or by their significant other to watch as the two men stole away into the elevator. Blaine had just pushed his floor number when the other man pressed him up against the side, undoing some of the buttons of his shirt so as to better assault his neck, both hands then gripped his waist. Blaine tipped his head back, panting as the man kissed up to his ear and down to his collarbone, moving his shirt and jacket aside to nip at the skin there, leaving a small mark.

Blaine locked his arms around the man's hips, spreading his legs slightly so the taller man could stand between them. Their mouths met in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss, tainted by the bitter taste of alcohol. Their growing erections met when their bodies were pressed up against each other and they both moaned at the sensation. Blaine's back arched off of the back of the wall as the stranger grinded down on him, creating more friction. The elevator was thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat as the two of them continued to rut against each other.

The other man stopped for a moment and Blaine whined at the lost until he felt a hand palming him through his dark grey jeans. He bucked his hips as he met the man's eyes, which were twinkling mischievously as his face lit up in a smirk. Blaine used the expensive looking scarf hanging around the man's neck to tug his face back to him, nipping at his bottom lip as the man rubbed him through his pants. He snaked a hand around the man, squeezing his ass, causing the stranger to let out a high-pitched moan; a sound that went straight to Blaine's crotch.

The elevator dinged open and some part of Blaine's mind was thankful that there was no one waiting to use the elevator. Blaine slipped around the man to open the grate, thrusting backwards when he felt the other man press his erection into Blaine's ass. They stumbled out of the elevator, drunk off of the alcohol in their systems and the ache in both of their pants. Blaine struggled to concentrate on getting to his apartment, which the stranger made difficult by pressing small kisses on his neck whenever he could.

Despite the constant distraction, Blaine somehow managed to direct them to his apartment, fumbling with the keys as the man pressed in close behind him. He arched when the stranger cupped him through his jeans, cursing when he nearly dropped the keys. The man chuckled lightly and Blaine's head whipped around to glare at him as he pushed open the apartment door.

They both kicked their shoes off before Blaine had the man pinned against the wall, not bothering to turn on the light. He managed to rid of the man's scarf and hat, tangling his fingers in the man's copper-colored hair, before being pushed away roughly. He pulled back in surprise, looking concernedly at the stranger. The other man stared back at him with lust-filled eyes, panting as his fingers shakily undid Blaine's jacket and shirt.

"B-bed," he whispered.

Blaine nodded quickly, shrugging out of his shirt and jacket before pushing the other man's shirt off. He reached beneath him, hoisting the man up so he could wrap his legs around his waist. They both moaned as their bare chests rubbed against each other, slick with sweat. They continued kissing as Blaine began walking towards the bedroom.

Blaine was thoroughly surprised at his own coordination when he managed to maneuver them to the bedroom. The passion of the situation cut through some of the fog of alcohol as he placed the man down near the bed. Delicate fingers ghosted down his chest, causing him to shiver as they passed over his nipples and down to his belt, which was undone and quickly followed by his pants. His own hands struggled with the complicated zippers and buckles on the other man.

"I will rip these things off of you," Blaine muttered against the man's lips, giving up on the pants.

"You wouldn't dare," the man murmured back, making quick work of his pants.

Blaine's response was cut off as the man grabbed his hips and pulled him closer, their erections rubbing through only two thin layers of fabric. He felt himself being dragged forward, until the stranger's legs hit the back of the bed and he was pulled down on top of him.

They kissed hungrily for a few minutes, delving their tongues into each other mouths. Blaine leaned out to start pressing kisses down the man's throat and body. His tongue snaked out to trace the man's nipples, smiling when he felt his back arch off of the bed. He continued moving down until he was near the waistband of the man's briefs.

He sucked a hickey onto his hip, smiling when he saw it start to bruise purple in the moonlight seeping in through the glass-stained window. He kissed above the waistband, hearing the other man groan in frustration as he neared his erection, which was straining against his underwear. He then began mouthing the man's cock through his underwear, teasingly slipping his fingers just under the elastic. Fingers curled themselves into his hair and pulled, sending shocks of pleasure to his own cock. The man above him moaned loudly, stuttering out half- fragmented curses.

Blaine finally removed the man's underwear, taking his own off quickly after he did. He licked the underside of his cock before stretching his lips around the head of it, moaning at the taste of the pre-come that had gathered there. He felt the fingers tighten in his hair to a point where it was nearly painful and it wasn't long until the man tugged him upward. He crawled up again, kissing the man deeply as he ground his hips down. The stranger reached a hand down, wrapping it around both of their erections and stroking them simultaneously.

"Fuck me," he whispered when they parted briefly for air.

"Are you sure?" Blaine asked; his voice rough and husky. He was already clumsily moving towards his nightstand, rifling around before he pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom.

"I'm sure," the man said, squeezing their erections for emphasis.

He placed his feet flat on the bed, drawing his knees up as he spread his legs and licked the shell of Blaine's ear, blowing hot air into it as he ran his fingers through his sweaty curls.

Blaine braced one arm on the bed after slicking his fingers up with probably too much lube. He attached his mouth to the side of the other man's neck, sucking another mark as he pushed a finger into his puckered entrance. The man arched off the bed with a moan, pushing back against the intrusion.

Blaine watched him, sliding his finger in and out as the two of them found a matching pace, soon adding another finger. He scissored them, stretching the man wider and he began crooking his fingers, searching for that magic spot. The man on the bed keened and arched his hips up when Blaine's fingers brushed his prostrate and Blaine added another finger, curling them the same way so as to hit the man's prostrate every time.

The stranger let out a long moan, stroking himself as Blaine continued to thrust his fingers in.

"More," he panted out, his breathing ragged.

Blaine nodded, removing his fingers to roll the condom onto his own cock and rubbing the remaining lube on it. One hand gripped the man's waist as the other supported himself on the bed and he slowly pressed into the man, until he was completely buried inside.

"Fuck," Blaine swore, feeling the man clench around him. "You're so tight and-"

"Move," the stranger groaned out, stroking his cock faster and squeezing around Blaine.

Blaine began thrusting, hard and fast. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping skin and half-stuttered curse words mixed in with the moans from both men. Blaine moved the hand that was on the man's hip to his hair, tugging him upward as he leaned down slightly, kissing hungrily. His thrusts grew slightly irregular, but neither cared as they both neared the edge.

"Fuck oh right there, harder, harder," the man groaned as Blaine continued to pound into him. "Oh shit, oh."

He came with a stuttered gasp that led to a long moan, his hand stroking himself as come splattered on his stomach. His walls clenched tightly around Blaine, who quickened his pace and followed not long after; a string of unintelligible curses escaping his mouth.

Blaine pulled out, taking off the condom as he ducked his head, licking at some of the come on the man's stomach, whimpering at the taste. He collapsed beside the man, who was fumbling with the nightstand beside him. He pulled a few tissues out of the box there to clean himself off. Blaine threw the condom in the wastebasket on the other side of the bed, panting from exertion. The stranger leaned over him to throwing the soiled tissues away.

A soft hand cupped Blaine's face and lips caught his in a surprisingly gentle kiss, given what had just transpired between the two. They lay there like that for a while, not speaking, but kissing slowly, as if trying to memorize each other. They were sweet kisses, no teeth or sucking and barely any tongue, aside from the light brushing against each other's lips.

Blaine found parts of himself wishing that he would get to know the man, possibly learn to love him one day, but the rational side of him tried to remind him that they hadn't even exchanged names. It was just a casual fuck, brought on from the spirit of New Years and of the alcohol in both of their systems, something he'd probably regret come morning. Blaine quieted that side of him and concentrated on the blue eyed, slender man above him, not knowing he'd be gone by morning.

It was my first time writing any form of femslash, so I hope it was alright.

I also hope that you ignore the great imbalance between the Klaine part and everyone else. It was originally just supposed to be a Klaine fic, but it kind of evolved into much more. It's pretty well-balanced for the rest of the story though.

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Reviews are love.