"But, Kurt, he's so TINY! I like how broad Derek is. And strong! I mean, he can hold me down with one hand when he's f—"
"Oh god, please stop talking!" Kurt yelled, hands jumping towards his ears to block out Stiles's next words. Stiles stuck out his tongue in response and poured more tequila into each of their shot glasses, holding his out for Kurt to clink before downing it with a grimace. "Besides," Kurt said, "size doesn't matter—no, wait, height. Height doesn't matter. Because Blaine is short but he's all … sized." Kurt's said, hands gesturing vaguely as his alcohol flushed cheeks deepened to a proper blush at the realization of what he had said.
"How 'sized' are we talking," Stiles asked, bringing his own hands up to unsteadily mark a distance in the air. Stiles laughed, the sound booming and contagious as he watched Kurt blush and try to unsuccessfully hide his face in Stiles's shoulder as Stiles continued to guess, hands creeping ever farther apart.
When they had laughed themselves out they ended up curled together in zoned out silence until eventually Stiles found the train of their conversation again. "But seriously, Kurt. Blaine's'ok but Derek is like the best. Even though he's all," Stiles scrunched his nose and wiggled his fingers towards his forehead, "broody and stuff. Like, with his face. His pretty, broody face."
"His face is pretty broody. And pretty … pretty."
"Right?" Stiles declared. "Like it's all …" He trailed off, reaching for tequila to pour more shots.
"Pretty?"
"Yeah. So so pretty." Stiles held out his shot glass. "Clink."
Kurt tapped their shot glasses together just a little too hard, tequila sloshing over the sides as they laughed.
"To Derek's pretty face!" Stiles muttered, holding up his shot aloft, and waiting until Kurt had a mouth full of tequila to add "And to Blaine's giant penis."
Stiles downed his shot in the moment before Kurt tackled him into the couch cushions, tequila and laughter spilling from his lips.