Day 8: Cup
A/N: I am sitting down to write this very late at the end of a horrible, terrible, no good, really bad day, so here goes nothing. This takes place somewhere in canon after Kurt and Blaine are married but before they finish college.
With finals in the books and no work until after the new year, Kurt and Blaine were ready to let go and enjoy the holidays, starting with Rachel's party. It was a small but lively affair, with all the requisite food, drinks, and music that was to be expected.
Kurt was chatting with Santana by the beverage table when a loud whoop from the other side of the room drew their attention. They couldn't help but laugh at the sight: Blaine was atop the coffee table, a pair of reindeer antlers on his head, as he began to lead other partygoers in a slightly inaccurate but hilarious version of "The Twelve Days of Christmas." A cup of eggnog was perched precariously in his hand, but in spite of his, well, condition, he was still cautious not to spill. Once a Warbler, always a Warbler.
"How many of those has he had?" Santana asked wryly.
"I think that's his third cup," Kurt answered with a smirk and a shake of his head.
"Guess your hobbit can't hold his liquor," she commented.
"No, he can't," Kurt agreed, "but that's not a factor tonight."
"How come?"
"Because the eggnog isn't spiked," Kurt replied causally.
Santana looked at him in shock, then moved to the bowl of eggnog and served a small amount into a cup with the ladle provided. Taking a sip, she winced in disgust. "Ugh, eggnog is nasty," she muttered, adding, "but are you sure there's no booze in here?"
"Positive," Kurt affirmed. "Rachel made a point of not having it be spiked, and we've been keeping an eye on it all night."
Santana burst out laughing. "So that means…" she trailed off as Blaine gave up on the Days of Christmas around day seven and started on another carol.
Kurt sighed, watching his silly husband affectionately. "That's all him," he said, smiling as he added, "and he's all mine."
