Notes: The theme today was 'what would you change' and, well, there are a quite a few things. 'I'm a junior.' The resolution of the Chandler debacle. 'I didn't get in.' The Break Up and most things after. But I didn't think of those. (Ha! Bet you weren't expecting that!) Anyway, I decided to go back to Blame It On the Alcohol because it's simultaneously one of my most and least favourite episodes, and I picked a few different ways the party could have gone differently. They don't all end with Klaine but, well, you'll see. ;) [if you keep reading, anyway] Can you guess the changes?

I.

When Kurt sees Blaine drinking, he decides to hell with impressing Blaine – if he limits himself to drinking enough alcohol to give him a little liquid courage, he'll be fine.

The problem is, he doesn't know his limits, and so he ends up piss drunk.

"Blaaaaiiiine," he sings. He trips over his feet and lands on Blaine's shoulder, but Blaine is more than a little unsteady on his feet so they tumble to the ground. Kurt giggles and hiccups and giggles again.

"Kurt, I found you, hi!" Blaine grins, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist to keep him close. "Mine now. Okay?"

"So okay," Kurt says happily, relaxing his weight onto Blaine's body. "'Cause I like you a lot and – wait, no, you made me really sad! You sang to the hair on Valentine's Day!" He pushes his body up and glares at Blaine, but his eyebrows look really funny all tugged up to make a triangle shape on his face – and his eyebrows usually look like triangles too! – and Kurt starts giggling again.

"It's 'cause you're the most special," Blaine says earnestly. He nods and repeats, "The most special."

"LET'S PLAY SPIN THE BOTTLE."

"Yes!" Blaine cheers, already getting up. "Kurt, Kurt, let's go kiss."

Kurt frowns. "No," he says. He's already had to deal with Blaine being in love with that stupid Gap guy and singing to him. No way is he going to deal with Blaine kissing other people and other boys because some stupid game tells him to. He struggles out of Blaine's grip, ignoring his we're-only-best friends' adorable and sad and adorable eyes, and stumbles out of the room, shouting a "NO" to the room at large so everyone knows he's going for some fresh air.

He doesn't really know what to do when he's outside. It's a little chilly but his coat is downstairs where Blaine is, so he wraps his arms around himself and sits on the porch.

Then another pair of arms wraps around him too and a set of legs appear either side of his body. Kurt relaxes into Blaine's body and rests his head on Blaine's shoulder, and giggles quietly when Blaine properly cocoons him with his limbs. He's actually kinda tired now.

"No kissing," he murmurs, eyes drifting closed.

"Wanna kiss you," Blaine whispers back.

"Hmm'morrow?"

"'Kay. Kurt, you're the most special. Love you."

Kurt smiles.

—

II.

Blaine stops after his first drink, hoping to salvage whatever image Kurt has of him after the mortification of the Warblers' Gap Attack. They dance together and take to the stage; they end up having a competition for who can get the most applause from their drunken audience, choosing sexier and sexier songs because, well, that is what the audience wants.

Neither of them join in for Spin the Bottle. Kurt is only interested in kissing Blaine and Blaine, well, the New Directions guys are attractive but something about kissing them makes him feel uncomfortable. So, while the others play, they collapse onto the couch and cheer and talk between themselves.

"I won, by the way," Kurt says, smirking. Blaine laughs.

"No way, I'm pretty sure it was me Santana heckled."

"I got high fives from Puck and Artie, and Brittany hit on me."

"Yeah, I didn't really get that. She knows you're gay, right?"

Pink rises on Kurt's cheeks and Blaine can't help but grin, feeling loose and happy even though by now the alcohol he consumed will have almost entirely worked its way from his system and one wine cooler isn't enough to even make him tipsy anyway.

"We dated for like a week last year so, it's very likely she's just connected a few wrong dots."

Blaine turns his body fully towards Kurt, laying one arm across the top of the couch and folding a leg in front of him.

"Wait, Brittany is your kiss-that-doesn't-count?"

Kurt shoves him when he starts laughing. "Shut up, it's embarrassing."

"At least she thinks you're a good kisser." Blaine grins, although his stomach feels a bit tight when he adds, "Your future boyfriend is gonna be pretty lucky."

Kurt's eyes dart to Blaine's lips and away. And Blaine doesn't want to mess anything up, but clearly that wine cooler has had more of an affect on him that he thought because he finds himself leaning forward and cupping Kurt's cheek, turning their faces to each other.

"Blaine," Kurt says shakily.

Blaine licks his lips, says, "Let's call it a draw," and then leans into Kurt as Kurt leans into him, and then they're kissing. Kurt's lips are soft and warm, his hand a steady pressure on Blaine's arm. Blaine has actually never been kissed before, not since silly, embarrassed pecks with girls during middle school, but it hardly seems to matter. Kurt takes the lead almost instantly, opening his mouth so that they're sharing air. Kurt's tongue brushes against Blaine's top lip and he shudders into action, pulling himself closer to Kurt and all but climbing into his lap to get them closer, kissing harder and hotter, hands gripping tighter and their noses bumping whenever they shift angles, and they don't stop until long after Spin the Bottle ends and the party has moved on around them.

"We had so better be boyfriends after this," Kurt mutters between gasps for air. Blaine can't stop looking at his lips, pink and swollen.

"Take me out on a date first and we'll see," Blaine says back. Kurt huffs out a laugh and pulls him forward again into another sweet, stinging kiss.

—

III.

Finn doesn't group the girls into Drunken Stereotypes, and so Rachel doesn't spitefully suggest Spin the Bottle. Everyone, except Finn and Kurt, gets steadily drunker.

Blaine stumbles gracelessly into the seat where Kurt is watching Mercedes and Tina literally fall over laughing in amusement.

"Kurt, Kurt, this the best," he slurs, leaning right into Kurt's face.

"Oh my god, you smell like a bar," Kurt laughs as he pushes Blaine away. Blaine grins dopily at him.

"Y'know what we should do? We should shotgun."

"You're also not making any sense."

"'Cause you're not drunk!" Blaine blows a raspberry with such force that he falls into Kurt's lap. He nuzzles his face into Kurt's thigh and hums happily.

"Okay." Kurt laughs nervously, pushing Blaine away. Blaine makes himself into a dead weight and flops onto Kurt's back. "That's enough of that, I think."

"Smell so good Kurt always smell so good," he mumbles into Kurt's shoulder. "Wanna bite you."

"Oh my god."

"Can I?"

Blaine's lips brush against the lobe of Kurt's ear and Kurt's standing up before he even finishes processing that. Blaine's spread across the couch, looking a little confused, and then he looks up at Kurt and his eyes are shining.

"Blaine, you're so drunk," Kurt says, his voice high and thin because he's embarrassingly close to tears. "It's not . . . you can't just blow me off for a guy you've had coffee with twice and then expect – whatever that was."

"'M sorry," Blaine whines. "Kurt, 'm s'rry."

Kurt takes a few steadying breaths. He looks around the room; most people are falling asleep now, and except for Rachel singing song after song on her karaoke machine, the party is winding down.

"Let's just get you home," he says quietly to Blaine. "Just keep your hands to yourself, okay?"

"I promise," Blaine says, but then holds his hands in the air to be helped up. Kurt closes his eyes and wishes for patience, but does the best friend thing anyway and hauls Blaine out to his car.

"Kurt," Blaine whispers – well, he's actually talking pretty loudly, but he sounds like he's trying to whisper. "'M sorry 'bout Jer'miah. You're s'much prettier. You're so pretty. I promise."

—

IV.

"LET'S PLAY SPIN THE BOTTLE."

Kurt lets himself be pulled into the circle by an excited, incredibly drunk Blaine. His pulse flutters anxiously in his throat; he doesn't really want more kisses that won't count, but if there's even the slightest chance he will land on Blaine . . . well, it won't really count, but it is sadly probably the closest he'll get to kissing Blaine ever so he'll take it.

He cheers and laughs and catcalls with everyone else, very much aware of Blaine's warmth and solidness leaning heavily into his side and the scent of Blaine's cologne mixed with whatever cocktails he's been drinking. He watches everyone make out with everyone else and focuses on the twisted delight rather than his own nerves, and it takes a moment to realise that the bottle's pointing at him after Rachel's spin.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" everyone cheers. Mercedes cackles and Kurt sends her a half-hearted glare. He supposes it's at least some small mercy of the universe that he isn't kissing Puck or Santana, and he does actually consider Rachel a friend now. Speaking of Puck and Santana, they're literally hooting at him; only Finn and Blaine aren't joining in, Finn frowning and Blaine just staring at Kurt intently.

Rachel points at him. "Kurt Warbler, I'm gonna rock your world," she slurs at him.

"Rachel, you know my—" he starts, but then he's interrupted by Rachel dragging their mouths together and licking sloppily into his mouth. It's a kiss of all spit and tongue and slippery strawberry-flavoured lipgloss. Kurt puts a hand down to balance him and ends up on Blaine's leg instead of the floor, and he focuses on Blaine's calf instead of Rachel's tongue in his mouth.

He pulls away as soon as he can, wiping his mouth with the base of his palm. Blaine's still staring, now at his lips, and the intensity sends a thrill up Kurt's spine. He'd say Blaine even looks a little turned on but given Kurt's utter lack of experience, he won't hold out on it.

"Your turn, Blaine," he says, nudging his friend into action. After a moment of glaring at the bottle, Blaine spins it. It lands on Kurt. Again.

"Get it, Hummel!" Santana hollers. Kurt's face feels so hot there's probably no disguising his blush as the room being a bit stuffy.

Kurt opens his mouth to say – something, probably something he'd regret instantly, but definitely something – but then Blaine's thumb is running against his lips and he's staring at them again.

"Is this okay?" he asks. Kurt's breath catches in his throat and he can only nod. Blaine goes up on his knees and then leans down and gently presses his lips to Kurt's. It's soft and warm and a little bit too wet and tastes a bit of alcohol, but Kurt can feel it all the way down to his toes. He matches Blaine for tempo and pressure and moans when Blaine sucks on his bottom lip, and when they pull apart, Blaine runs his thumb across Kurt's lips again and looks smug.

"Third time lucky," Brittany says, handing the bottle to Kurt. He takes it without thinking, still looking at Blaine, who has gone back to glaring at the bottle.

"Lucky?" Kurt asks. Brittany smiles at him from where she's reclining against Artie's legs.

"You're a super hot kisser," she says. Kurt hesitates for a moment, sneaking another glance back to Blaine, and the spins the bottle.

Almost immediately, Blaine reaches forward to knock the bottle out of rotations and into the edge of the circle.

"No," he says petulantly, and then swings back round to kiss Kurt again. He closes his eyes instinctively even as his eyebrows rise, and all his friends laugh.

Kurt finds he's barely embarrassed at all. Maybe Blaine's drunk, but maybe this kiss counts after all.

—

V.

Blaine groans and buries his head into Kurt's pillow. His eyes are glued together and his mouth tastes like something died in there and there's a herd of elephants stampeding in his head and he feels a little nauseous, but luckily not like he's actually going to throw up. Kurt would probably kill him.

Then Blaine remembers the rest of the night before – kissing Rachel, singing with Rachel, Kurt being sad, acting like an absolute child and making Kurt actually carry him upstairs to Kurt's bedroom. He groans and presses his face further into the pillow. He is never drinking again. Never.

The bed shifts next to him, and Blaine forces himself to turn his head. He sees Kurt, facing him but still asleep, and it takes several moments for him to register that he's sleeping in the same bed as his best friend. He immediately jerks into full consciousness, and then he groans again because holy hell that hurt.

Kurt shifts again, but he thankfully doesn't wake, and Blaine just looks at him while he waits for the weird pounding throughout his body to fade. His hair is free of product, flopping over his forehead, and his mouth is a little bit open, and just that fact that Kurt is facing Blaine even though he's lying on his back makes Blaine's hangover just a little bit better. Kurt's relaxed and peaceful in a way that Blaine has never seen before – not when the two of them were hanging out, not at Dalton, not last night – and it stirs the wisps of something large and nameless in Blaine's chest.

Blaine rests his head on his arms and . . . sees.

His best friend is beautiful.