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“I’m not drinking,” Kurt says when they get there that night, and Blaine says okay, Darren looks at him incredulously, and Chris—well, Chris rolls his eyes, the same way he always does.
“Why does he always assume alcohol is involved?” Darren asks Chris behind him.
“Probably because you’re involved,” Chris responds.
“…Touché.”
And Kurt smiles a little, and then turns around and says, “I’m not drinking.”
“Fuck, we know,” Chris throws back, and they glare at each other for a few moments before Blaine is tugging Kurt’s attention away as they head into the kitchen.
There are no plans for that night aside from making dinner and “hanging out,” which is what puts Kurt so on edge. He likes to have plans. He likes to know what’s going to happen so he can prepare himself for it. Every activity calls for a certain kind of outfit—if they end up staying in and watching movies, he likes to dress down and wear something comfortable and soft, because movie watching generally means an opportunity to cuddle with Blaine. But sometimes they decide to go out, and that calls for an entirely different ensemble.
He’s halfway between the two, but he still wouldn’t be comfortable going out in his outfit.
Blaine’s hand skirts his waist, chin hooking over his shoulder, and Kurt suppresses the urge to shudder that still comes when Blaine is so close to him. It’s still new, still a novelty, still makes Kurt’s skin itch because their brothers can’t be more than a few feet away at the kitchen island.
“You look amazing tonight,” Blaine says, and his breath ghosts over Kurt’s neck, and then there’s a kiss on his cheek and Blaine is slipping to the side. “Can I help?”
Kurt smiles at him shyly, and hands him a lemon.
“Zest for me?”
Really, it’s after dinner that Kurt worries about. Dishes are soaking in the sink and they all tumble in the living room, and Darren is fidgety and full of energy—it’s never a good thing, in Kurt’s opinion. He’s drumming fingers against the coffee table when he suddenly says, “let’s play a game!”
“Oh thank god,” Chris groans in relief, and it hadn’t been that boring just sitting, had it? Kurt looks at Blaine, and Blaine just shrugs, so Kurt has no choice but to go along.
“What game?” Kurt asks, tersely, crossing his legs.
“Never Have I Ever,” Darren responds immediately.
“No,” Kurt says, and Darren frowns at him. “I said I’m not—”
“Not drinking, we know,” Chris finishes, annoyed. Kurt snaps a glare at him.
“We don’t have to play with alcohol,” Darren says, crossing his legs where he’s sitting on the floor so that he looks like a kindergardener with a beard.
“Darren’s right.” Blaine’s hand closes around Kurt’s elbow. “We can play with another kind of drink, like water or juice or soda.”
“Or fingers,” Chris suggests, and Darren looks at him. “What? You know, like in high school, and you’re not drinking alcohol, so everyone holds up ten fingers…” Darren continues to stare blankly at Chris, and Chris stares back, exasperated. “No, of course not, because why wouldn’t you play with alcohol?”
“I resent the suggestion that I’m an alcoholic.”
“I didn’t—” Chris starts, voice raised, and Blaine stands up.
“I’ll just go grab us some sodas and we can start, okay?” Blaine shoots a wary look between Chris and Darren, and then smiles warmly down at Kurt, before he disappears into the hallway. The room is now tensely silent, so Kurt clears his throat, smoothing out the wrinkles in the denim that stretches across his thigh.
“So.” He looks at Darren, who seems to be sulking less than he was a few seconds ago. “Any ulterior motives here, Darren?”
Darren looks at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Huh?”
“I’m just wondering if you’re trying to learn anything specific by playing this game.”
Kurt’s watching closely enough that he sees Darren’s eyes shift over to Chris an then back again incredibly quickly.
“Just wanted to play, man.”
We’ll see about that.
*
“Okay, okay, okay,” Darren laughs, swigging his can of coke even though he doesn’t have to. “Never have I ever… Used Crisco because I ran out of hair gel.”
“Oh my god,” Blaine shouts, and Kurt stares at his boyfriend as his face becomes steadily redder. “That was once and that was so pointed, Darren!”
“Drink up, bro!” Darren winks at him, and Blaine begrudgingly takes a sip. Chris is laughing so hard he’s tipped sideways, head pressed to Darren’s shoulder, and Kurt is trying to hide his smile behind his own diet coke.
“Crisco, really?” Kurt asks in a whisper, and Blaine stares at him with a desperate pleading in his eyes.
“I was nine.” Blaine looks down, embarrassed, and Kurt just reaches between them and squeezes their fingers together. Blaine sends him an appreciative, if still slightly flustered, smile. “Fine, Dare, you wanna do this—never have I ever peed in a public pool when I was over the age of ten.”
Darren drinks.
“Seriously?” Chris asks.
“That is disgusting.” Kurt wrinkles his nose, and Darren shrugs, unashamed.
“Sometimes you just gotta piss.”
“Gross,” Kurt comments again, and then Blaine nudges his shoulder gently—oh right, his turn.
“Um… Never have I ever checked out another guy’s—er, you know, while using the restroom.” Kurt bites his lip, and then bites too hard as everyone else in the circle drinks.
“Seriously? Never?” Darren asks.
“Yes, seriously, I—” Kurt looks down at his lap.
“Never have I ever,” Chris starts, and Kurt looks over at his brother in relief, “tried to pet a lion at the zoo.”
“Dude, I told you that in confidence!” Darren pouts, drinking.
“Darren, that’s not exactly a secret. I was there. You almost lost your hand, I’ve never seen mom so pissed.” Blaine lifts an eyebrow for emphasis, and Darren crosses his arms.
“I knew about it, too,” Kurt offers, but it just makes Darren pout more. Kurt’s glad they aren’t playing with alcohol, because he can just imagine how mopey Darren would be getting. Then again, they’ve been targeting him pretty much the entire game.
“Never have I ever…” Darren starts, and then pauses, swiping the pad of his thumb over the lip of his soda can. His eyes flit to Chris, and Kurt thinks, oh no. “Used someone to make someone else jealous.”
Darren isn’t looking at Chris, but Chris is staring at Darren, eyebrows pinched together and mouth slightly open. Kurt looks at Blaine, but Blaine looks just as confused as he currently feels. There’s a story there, there has to be, but it’s nothing Chris has talked about. Kurt looks at his brother, but he’s not drinking—not even moving, actually, and the entire room suddenly feels tense.
Kurt knows what he has to do.
“Never have I ever,” he said, even though it’s not his turn. “Roasted a marshmallow.”
The room goes silent, and Kurt knows no one is going to drink, so when he looks up, he meets Chris’s eyes—and Chris looks thankful, if still slightly hurt. Kurt might not have any idea what that was about (and he is definitely going to ask later), but he knows a cry for help when he hears it (or, sees it, in this particular case).
“You’ve never roasted marshmallows before?” Blaine asks, looking at Kurt in surprise, and Kurt shifts his shoulders, not meeting anyone else’s gaze.
“No, I haven’t.” He lifts his chin, a little defiantly.
“Hey, Dare, do we still have marshmallows in the pantry?” Blaine asks.
“Um, yeah—”
“Game over.”
Kurt jumps slightly as Blaine’s hand wraps around his wrist, tugging him until they’re both standing.
“What are you doing?”
“We might not have a real fire to use, but we have a gas burning stove, and that works almost as well.” Blaine grins and then pecks a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “We’re going to go make s’mores.”
Kurt laughs, he can’t help himself, and then tosses a look back at their brothers—who haven’t moved. Which is odd, given that Kurt doesn’t know very many things that could keep Chris (let alone Darren) away from marshmallows and chocolate.
“Chris…?”
“You guys go ahead,” Chris says, meeting Kurt’s eyes calmly. “We’ll catch up.” Chris and Darren look at each other in such a significant way, but Kurt feels his hackles rise.
“We’re just in the kitchen,” he says, his voice a warning, but Chris just smiles at him, small, and nods. “Come on.” Kurt smiles at Blaine, who looks so excited suddenly that it’s infectious.
“You’re gonna love it,” Blaine promises, grinning.
“It’s melty goo and chocolate, what’s not to love?”
“The part where your marshmallow catches on fire and turns black.”
“Oh god, I’m going to burn down your kitchen.”