The wedding went off without a hitch. Rachel and Finn now sat together at a table as man and wife. Blaine sat at a table with Quinn, Artie, and Sam.
"The singles table." Quinn sipped her drink.
"You mean the party table!" Sam slurred, going for a high-five.
"Right." Quinn looked over to where Puck and Shelby sat with Beth. Shelby had allowed the girl to go an hug her "Auntie Quinn" before the wedding had started.
"Wanna dance, Quinn?" Artie grinned, downing his third drink.
"Sure." Quinn got up, following him to the dance floor. Blaine turned to Sam, only to see him stumble off towards the bathrooms.
"Mind if I sit down?"
Blaine looked up, his eyes meeting Kurt's. "N-no. Sit down." Blaine moved Quinn's purse out of the way, and Kurt sat down.
"I wish we weren't meeting up like this." Kurt sighed. Blaine stared at him, afraid of what he would say next. "I mean, I promised I'd buy you a drink in 10 years if we ever met up again. I can't exactly buy you one here. They're free." Kurt smiled. Blaine nodded, looking away. "How have you been, Blaine?"
"I've been living in Boston. I have a contract with a publishing company, and I've been working on a novel." Blaine turned to look at Kurt. "I know you've been designing. I saw your spread in VOGUE."
"You saw that?" Kurt laughed, throwing his head back.
"Kurt, are you drunk?"
"I only had one drink." Kurt giggled. "Dance with me, Blaine." Kurt pulled the two of them to the dance floor. The song was a fast one, the newest club hit, being sung by Santana on the karaoke machine.
Blaine was amazed at Kurt's dancing skills. They had improved considerably from the shimmy he was known for in high school. Now, his hips moved in ways no human being should be able to move in. Blaine didn't know if it was the alcohol, the flashing lights, or the fact that Kurt's dancing was making his blood rush away from his head, but the next thing anyone knew, he collapsed to the floor.
A/N: I own nothing.