Q is for Queen sized Bed
Kurt wasn't quite sure how this had happened.
It wasn't as if the three of them had never drank together before. Generally they attempted to avoid this, or at least all three of them drinking at once, because the results were rarely pretty. Santana would get nostalgic and insecure and inevitably burst into tears, Rachel would get giggly and silly and suddenly want to pet the hair of and snuggle up against whoever happened to be close- which with the two of them, generally made a rather sad-looking huddle of a weepy Santana and a hugging, hair petting Rachel, both who would completely deny in the morning that this had taken place at all. And Kurt? Well…alcohol in excess seemed to make his usually rather repressed and controlled sexual feelings come up, out, and overboard, and he could no longer control or predict just how they might present themselves.
They had not exactly intended to get drunk; it was just a little spiked eggnog, supposedly just enough to get them in a Christmas-y "mood" to celebrate the end of the school semester for Kurt and Rachel. But somehow one glass had turned into several, and then the entire punch bowl was gone, and the occurrences after that point were something of a blur.
Kurt couldn't explain how it was, exactly, he had ended up in Rachel's queen sized bed, wearing nothing more than a glittery t-shirt that looked suspiciously like nothing any of the three of them owned, his boxers, and long striped socks with bells, a Santa hat on his chest, and a chunk of Rachel's hair caught in his mouth, one of his legs half flung over hers. He could see through bleary eyes that Rachel was in between him and Santana, that she and Santana appeared to be wearing pieces of what looked like sexy Santa costumes, and Rachel's head was resting high up on Santana's chest, just beneath her collar bone, both her arms wound around the girl's waist, that Santana had a handful of Rachel's hair in one fist, her chin pressing into the top of Rachel's head. Rachel's mouth was open, and Santana was snoring softly, little strands of what looked suspiciously like pieces of garland stuck in both their hair.
He couldn't explain it, and his head hurt much too badly to try. Instead he simply staggered to his feet, blinking and swaying until his world righted itself again, and padded into the kitchen. Coffee. That was his answer for the morning, and likely the only one he'd ever really get.
Although it might have been amusing to see the girls' reactions and interpretations, when they finally awoke later on.