Episode: Blame It on the Alcohol

"Hey, Kurt, you leaving?" Finn asked with some trepidation. The number of party goers was quickly dwindling and it would suck to be the only sober dude left. Puck, surprisingly, had been the first to leave, dragging a disgruntled Lauren Zizes with him. Artie's parents had arrived next, not surprised to find their son heavily intoxicated. Mercedes and Quinn, in a moment of camaraderie that was rare these days, decided to walk home together.

Of the remaining teens, no one seemed to be anything less than ridiculous. Santana was knocked out cold in the middle of the floor. Brittany, Mike and Tina had formed a line and created their own version of soul train. Sam and Blaine were on stage performing a scene from the Lord of the Rings. Finn couldn't really remember which movie the scene was from, but he clearly heard Sam refer to himself as Tree Beard and Blaine as Pippin.

Rachel had disappeared earlier with the promise of chips. But that had been, like, an hour ago…

Kurt was on the top step leading to the main level. The party had stopped being fun for him a while ago, but he had a back-up plan. "No," he answered, allaying his step-brother's fear. "A friend of mine said he'd stop by. I'm just going to go wait for him."

"Okay, cool." Finn eyed the group of dancing gleeks warily. "Just hurry back. I don't want to get roped into anything."

"Kurt, Buddy," Sam called from the stage. "Wait up. We'll go with you."

"We?" Kurt asked, one eyebrow imperiously raised.

"Yeah," Sam panted, running to join him on the stairs. He placed his arm around Kurt's shoulder. "Blaine's gonna stay at my house. I mean, it's way too late to drive back to Westchester."

As the two boys galloped passed him, Kurt was a little confused. Hadn't Sam… "Hey, didn't you bring Santana?" When his question went unanswered, Kurt decided to worry about it later.

The night was cool, but the Ohio winter was finally starting to crawl back to whatever level of hell it came from. From Rachel's front porch, Kurt could just make out the forms of Sam and Blaine dancing down the sidewalk. Kurt couldn't help feeling relieved. If not for Sam, he would've been the one taking Blaine home. Although Kurt was no longer pining after the Warbler, there was the tiniest…pang when Blaine and Rachel kissed. But it was just an alcohol fuelled tryst, hopefully, to be forgotten.

Kurt was pulled from his musings by the sharp squeal of a car. 'Brake pads need to be replaced.' Kurt thought absently. He turned to see Sebastian unfold his long frame from a silver Dodge Charger. So this was Sebastian's car? Kurt took a cursory glance. A two door model with custom tires that had minimal wear: flashy enough to drive from party to party but not an everyday vehicle. Which would explain the brake pads. Sebastian probably was a little heavy on the brake pedal but didn't use the car enough to consider getting it checked out.

Kurt approved of the actual car (not the driving.) It was suitable for the other boy, but he had the niggling feeling that it should be red.

"This better be some party." The taller boy grumbled in lieu of a greeting. "I just paid nearly 60 dollars in gas to get here."

Kurt felt the heat of a blush flood his cheeks. "Actually, the party is pretty much over." Not wanting to disappoint his friend with a wasted trip, he added "but, you're welcome to come back to my place. We can watch some movies or play scrabble."

"You'd let me come over?" Sebastian smirked. "That's very forward of you, Hummel."

"Calm down. If you try anything, you're sleeping outside. Anyway," Kurt added, walking outside to meet the other boy, "It only seems fair. I've seen your place. Now you get to see mine."

"Alright." Sebastian agreed simply. He looked around the street for Kurt's monstrous Navigator before offering the boy his arm, like any gentleman would. He escorted the other teen his car. When Kurt was seated comfortably, Sebastian leaned over the window, smirking. "Fair warning: I totally kick ass at Scrabble."

Fortunately for Kurt, there had been no ultimate Scrabble tournament.

They arrived at the Hummel abode with little fanfare. Sebastian was surprised to find a relatively average looking home. It was big, but no larger than any of the other houses on the street. As soon as they stepped through the door, Kurt had grabbed his hand and led the way to his room. It was decorated in shades of red and gold, giving it a warm atmosphere. It was tasteful without being impersonal.

Sebastian intended to make these comments out loud, only to find his host stripped down to his underclothes and asleep. Well, he'd have to save his observations for another time. He toed of his shoes and pants, heaping them near the window. He added his gray cashmere sweater (specially chosen for the night) to the pile on the floor.

He carefully climbed into bed in nothing but his black boxer briefs. He pulled the red duvet over himself and Kurt and promptly joined his friend in sleep.

As Burt Hummel entered his kitchen, the sight that greeted him was an unexpected one. Finn was at the table, absent mindedly eating cereal. Carole, surrounded by an assortment of food, was packing four very different lunches. That was typical for a morning where Kurt decided to sleep at home instead of in the Dalton dorms. However, what was missing for the equation was Kurt himself. The boy was normally wielding his magic over the temperamental coffee maker. The damn thing only seemed to work when his son was here. The clock over the oven read 7:30. Kurt usually left the house by 7:45 in order to make the hour long commute to Dalton.

"Did Kurt leave for school already?" Burt asked the room in general. Carole made some sort of head movement that Burt couldn't possibly be expected to understand.

Finn perked up a little, tilting his head in the direction of Burt's voice. "His car's still out front. I guess he's still asleep."

Still asleep? Early bird Kurt was still asleep? That didn't sound like his kid. "How late did you kids stay out?"

"Not too late. Besides, Kurt came home way before me." Finn muttered, resenting the fact that he'd had to drive a bunch of drunken glee members home by himself.

"I'll go up and check on him." Burt hoped the kid wasn't running too late. Kurt was so serious about punctuality, the elder Hummel didn't want to be around on the day Kurt was late…

When he knocked on his son's door, there was no reply. Nothing. Not even a shuffling from the other side to show some signs of life. Burt didn't take that as a good sign.

"Kurt, if you're in there, I'm coming in." He called as a warning before slowly opening the door.

If he'd thought the scene in the kitchen was unusual, the sight that assaulted him now was so inconceivable…not even a showdown of it had crossed the furthest reaches of his mind.

Kurt, his son, was resting his head on the chest of another boy. A man, really, if the stubble on his face was anything to go by. The blankets had slipped down enough to show a possessive arm wrapped around his son's waist.

This was all happening a little fast for Burt Hummel. Since when did his son have a boyfriend? And what the hell happened to that Anderson kid?

"Kurt?" Burt croaked.

His son raised his head. "Dad?" With his back to the door, he had to shift his body in order to get a good look at his father.

"Kurt." The young man laying with his son groaned. "Please tell me we are not waking up at some ungodly hour."

"Sebastian?" Oh. Shit. Kurt sat upright, causing his friend to groan again. But he couldn't bring himself to care about the other boy's comfort at the moment. The only thing that mattered was the myriad of emotions crossing his father's face. "Dad, this isn't what it looks like."

"You've reached the voicemail of Kurt Hummel. If whatever you have to say is too important for a text, leave a message after the beep and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

~Beep~

"Hey, Kurt. It's Blaine…although you probably already know that with the caller i.d. and everything. I'm sorry we fought, but I'm standing by what I said earlier. I have to ask though, was it really my thing with Rachel that was bothering you? You seemed kind of distracted. I know we have our disagreements, but if you need to talk…"

"Hope I didn't get you into too much trouble." Sebastian called from his closet. It was official: his days of living independently were over. He'd commissioned Kurt to come out to his parent's house to smooth the transition. "That was probably the worst round of 'Meet the Parents' I've ever been involved in."

"Oh no, it's no big deal." Kurt said, folding a pair of gray socks. Sebastian's idea of packing had been to throw everything in a box and hope for the best. "I just received this heteronormative lecture from my father about sleepovers. It's so hypocritical. If he'd discovered Finn with Rachel or Quinn or…whoever, my dad would've given him a pat on the back. But I get a slap on the wrist for having a friend, who happens to be a guy, spend the night." Kurt scoffed. He added the socks the pile a neatly folded clothes surrounding him. With a frustrated sigh, he crossed the room and plopped down on Sebastian's bare mattress. " And, God, we weren't even doing anything."

"To be fair, doll, we did make a fairly provocative picture."

Kurt glared at his friend's back. "Yeah, because you couldn't be bothered to keep your damn clothes on, Smythe."

"Oh please," The other boy smirked, turning to face Kurt. "Who'd want to contain all this." Sebastian ran his hand suggestively over what Kurt knew were the lean, well defined muscles of his stomach and chest. Just because they were covered by a ridiculous polo shirt didn't make them any less appealing.

"What? Your terrible taste in clothes? We are seriously going to have to work on that before you go gallivanting off to Paris."

"Hummel, you don't have to deflect. I saw you checking me out the other morning."

"Impossible. I was too busy throwing you out."

"Kurt, it's completely normal to find yourself attracted to me." Sebastian assured, crossing the room. "Don't fight it." He dragged Kurt off of the bed and to his feet.

They were almost eye to eye. Sebastian was just tall enough to be that much more attractive. Staring into hazel eyes, Kurt all but forgot what they were bickering about. Is this how he felt the first time he'd looked at Finn? Or Sam? Or Blaine? No. He couldn't remember feeling the same fluttering in his stomach or the pressure on his chest. And the sensation of freefalling was so distinct and terrifying, It had to be new. It was only made worse by the fact that Sebastian was staring just as intently back.

"You know," Sebastian murmured, following the curve of Kurt's cheek with a long finger. "There is a good reason I call you doll face." Whatever the reason was seemed to be forgotten as his finger traced along the blush that had appeared. It was a rose colored arrow aimed at a plush pink mouth.

Later, Kurt would be embarrassed at how fast his heart was racing. He would berate himself over the gasp that escaped his mouth. Later. Now, he was too focused on the finger skimming his bottom lip.

Sebastian had no clue what he was doing. It was a complete out of body experience. He watched himself drag a finger along the softness of Kurt's lip. He watched as the tip of a pink tongue poked out, barely touching him.

"Maybe, if I just…" Sebastian leaned closer, letting instinct take over.

"Sebastian, sweetie, are you home?"

A women came in and Kurt couldn't imagine her being anyone but Sebastian's mother. She had the same chestnut brown hair, styled sleekly to complement her lean face. Her eyes were a bit greener than her son's, but they held the same intelligence. The only major difference Kurt noticed was that she had a small, embarrassed smile on her face instead a Sebastian's trademark smirk.

"Oh my. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you had a guest over." Her voice was sincere, and held no snobbery which wouldn't have been out of place in the large home the Smythes owned.

Sebastian swiftly stepped away the other boy. "Mom, this is my friend Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is my Mother."

"Is your father Congressman Burt Hummel, by any chance?"

"Yes, he is. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Smythe." Kurt said answered politely, trying not to die of embarrassment.

"Call me Linda." She smiled warmly. "You must be the little phantom helping Sebastian. I knew he wasn't unpacking by himself. "

"Mom, I am completely capable of handling my belongings." The look his mother gave him was all to knowing. Okay, so maybe he liked to throw his crap around. What did it matter if it was on the floor instead of in its 'rightful place.' As long as he could find it…

"Uh, Sebastian," Kurt cut in. "I think I'm going to head out. It was nice to meet you Mrs… Linda."

"Why don't you stay for dinner? It's not often Sebastian brings friends home." She put an arm around her son's shoulder. "You can tell me all the wild things my son gets up to when I'm not around."

"I'm sorry. I really should be getting back to Lima. My stepmom's expecting me to help with dinner."

"Alright," Mrs. Smythe said amicably. "Another time?"

"Definitely." Kurt decided that he would like this woman. She seemed easygoing (though, Sebastian had called her a she-witch once.)

"I'll walk you out." Sebastian lightly grasped Kurt's elbow and led him out of the room.

The walk to the garage was awkward, at best. Whatever energy that had passed between them earlier was quickly smothered by Mrs. Smythe's appearance. Now they were back to being plain old Sebastian and Kurt, only slightly less comfortable.

"About what happened…" Sebastian started.

"Don't worry about it." Kurt opened the door to his car and climbed in. "Let's just chalk it up to the heat of the moment." He didn't wait for an answer as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

Sebastian wandered back to his room to find his mother putting away his clothes. He pointedly ignored the searching look on her face.

"So, what exactly did I walk in on?" Linda asked, knowing her son would never willingly open up.

"Nothing, Mom."

"Really?"

"Really." Sebastian plopped onto a bean bag chair. It was one of the few pieces of furniture his parents hadn't sold after they made him come back home. They'd auctioned off everything from his California king bed and its mahogany frame to his microwave. "Kurt's not like that. He has morals. And standards."

"And you don't fit them? That's pretty harsh, Seb." She could see the change in her son's attitude since he became friends with Kurt Hummel. He spent less time and money at clubs and more time at school. "Don't be so hard on yourself." Linda didn't want there to be a reason to dislike her son's friend.

"That's not what I meant. Kurt is looking for some Bye Bye Birdie/Guys and Dolls type to come and sweep him off his feet. I'm sure as hell nobody's prince charming." Sebastian gave a self-deprecating smirk before adding, "I'm not even on his radar."

Thanks to seventeen years of practice, Linda could easily read the expression of yearning on her son's face. "Do you want to be?"

Sebastian sighed. "Maybe."