Vintage 80s!Klaine for Klaine AU Fridays! I’m half an hour past the deadline, but I’m a rebel! (Slightly inspired by the party scene in the 80s Teen Wolf movie.)
Summary: Kurt is dragged over to ‘the biggest party of the year’ and the night seems to take a different turn when a game of spin the bottle lands him in seven minutes in heaven with one Blaine Anderson.
Author’s note: My first time writing a full on Klaine ficlet and my first fic in forever! I’m a little rusty so please excuse the fact that this fic is a hot mess oozing all over the place, I’ll try to work on that. On another note, the title and summary may be a little deceiving in the smut category. Just some kissing here, folks! I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!
“Mercedes! Let go, I don’t want to go in there!”
“Aw, c’mon, Kurt, it’ll be fun!” Mercedes said as she tugged on Kurt’s hand.
It was a Friday night and they were standing in front of Noah Puckerman’s house of all places. Puck (as he preferred to be called) was having some big house party and it seemed as if all of McKinley had came.
All of McKinley probably was invited thought Kurt. Everyone except him. Because no one wanted to invite the only gay kid and punching bag of McKinley High School to what is suppose to be the biggest party of the year.
“Mercedes, maybe I should just go. I already spend enough time with those meatheads at school, I don’t see why I have to bare contact with them voluntarily.”
“Kurt, please! They’re not going to do anything, they’re all going to be too drunk to notice you and the rest of the glee club is here to have your back.”
Kurt desperately wanted to say no. If a fight were to break out because of his presence, then the chances of the glee club winning against the football team was a chance in a million. But still… there was a small part in him that was just the smallest bit curious about what a high school party may be like. To have the chance to experience just a little bit of teenage normality, without anyone throwing menacing slurs at him. The chance of that happening was just as slim as the glee clubs, but maybe Mercedes may be right. The football team was a group of Neanderthals who will probably be too drunk to notice his mere existence.
Pretending it was her puppy-dog eyes, Kurt turned to Mercedes and agreed.