Well, this is it. Please let me know what you thought of my silly little fic. Happy Holidays everyone!
(I still don't own Glee.)
~0~
~Three: And in the morning...~
Kurt knows what they've done the next morning not because he remembers, at least not all at once, but because there is dried come literally everywhere and especially on the insides of Blaine's splayed thighs.
He sits up slowly, awaiting the oncoming headrush and nausea only to find he doesn't feel too bad. His stomach is kind of burning like he's eaten a Finn-sized portion of hot wings and they are torching him from within and he has a horrific case of cotton mouth, but other than that he's functional. He glances down at Blaine next to him, lying prone and snoring lightly, his head turned to the side, face towards Kurt. His lips are pursed like he's waiting to be kissed, his long dark lashes fluttering against his cheekbones. Kurt bends down and kisses Blaine's puckered lips before stretching back out next to him.
He lets his eyes fall shut and is thinking about drifting off again when he hears Blaine's scratchy voice. "Bareback last night, huh?"
Kurt's eyes fly open and study Blaine's face. "Do you remember?"
"Mmhmm," he says. "M'all squishy." He's twisting his hips back and forth with his nose scrunched up.
"Gross. Wanna go take a shower?"
"Nah. Not yet. I don't mind." He lets his eyes flutter shut again and it's silent for so long that Kurt thinks maybe he's fallen back to sleep. "Is that weird?"
"Is what weird?"
"That I, you know, like that." Blaine's cheeks are flushed and when his eyes open again he looks nervous like he's embarrassed and worried about being judged.
"Course not," Kurt reassures. "You okay? I think we did it kinda rough."
"Yeah, not sore. Well a little, but the good kind of sore. And also there's the gut rot and pounding headache, but that's probably not from the sex."
"I will go fetch you water and painkillers, my love," Kurt says with a laugh and pets Blaine's wild curls.
Blaine pouts and makes a puppy whine. "But that means you have to leave me."
"Never, Baby. Never," Kurt says and presses kisses all over Blaine's hair.
"I love it when you call me that."
"I know. That's why I do it."
Blaine is humming contentedly and snuggling against him and Kurt could be happy here forever, even hungover and covered in dried come.
When they are showered and have taken their painkillers and can no longer wait for coffee, they venture out into the house at large. There are bodies everywhere, sleeping on every available surface, some with blankets and others huddled together to keep warm.
"Why the hell didn't anyone go home last night?" Kurt asks. "Puck made sure they all had a way home before they started drinking. Right?"
Blaine shrugs. Kurt should know better than to direct the question towards him seeing as Blaine himself had started eating the rum-drenched fruit at around four o'clock in the afternoon and was in no way capable of keeping anyone from drinking anything by the time the guests had arrived.
When they step over Nick and Jeff curled up in front of the entry to the kitchen, they understand why the house looks like an overcrowded youth drop-in centre. Outside the window there is nothing but white as far as the eye can see.
"Damn. Good thing we have lots of food."
~0~
Blaine has just put the seventh pot of coffee on when the final person drags themselves into the kitchen.
"Do I smell pancakes?" David asks around a yawn, Slytherin tie wrapped around his head.
"Yes," Rachel answers. "The pancakes on the electric griddle by Kurt are regular ones with eggs and the ones I've got here are vegan, if you'd prefer."
"God, her voice is like a spike being driven into my eyeballs. Won't someone shut her up?" Santana is comforted by an ashen Brittany while Rachel narrows her eyes and turns away to flip her vegan pancakes.
"I'm good with whatever," David says, looking nervously between the two girls. "I just need something in my stomach. That was one crazy party last night, Kurt. And I've been to my fair share since September."
"Damn straight," Artie agrees and meets Puck's halfhearted bro-fist. "I feel like I only went to sleep a couple hours ago."
"Dude, that's because you did go to sleep two hours ago."
"Are you serious? You guys were up that late?" Blaine asks as he fills a mug with coffee and passes it to a grateful Quinn. "Go back to bed."
"We was in it for the long haul," Santana says. She is eyeing Blaine like the cat that ate the canary, she even has Brittany's costume kitty ears perched on the top of her head. "You, on the other hand, snuck away awfully quickly after the stroke of midnight, Cinderella. What were you and your boy up to? Scared you were gonna turn into a pumpkin?"
Everyone's eyes are on Blaine and Kurt turns away to pour more batter onto the griddle. Avoid, avoid, avoid. He had hoped they were all too drunk to notice.
"That's not really your business," Blaine says, and wrong answer. Kurt shuts his eyes and waits for the axe to fall.
"Not my business?" Santana says. Kurt can practically hear her swagger. "Last night you peed in front of me."
"Oh, God," Kurt says under his breath.
And Santana is continuing. "I saw your front and your back – which is very nice, congrats to you, Lady Face – and you told me that you swallow. Pretty sure that basically makes us BFF, and best friends tell each other everything."
"I can't believe you watched me in the mirror. I didn't watch you pee!"
"No, you were too busy waxing poetic about the engagement toothbrush that your boyfriend bought you. Otherwise you would have totally creeped on me. You love you some lady parts when you're drunk, Bubble Butt."
"That was one time! It was just a kiss, no lady parts were involved! Are you people ever going to let me live that down?"
The mention of Rachel and that horrible party is the straw that breaks the camel's back, as they say, and Kurt turns abruptly wielding his spatula like a weapon. "Oh my God, Santana! Leave Blaine alone. We went to bed, alright? Fill in the blanks however you see fit. Are you satisfied?"
"Not as satisfied as your tender-tushied cohort probably is." Kurt rolls his eyes and turns back toward his soon-to-be-charred pancakes hearing a derisive guffaw coming from the direction of the table.
"Were you listening at the door or something?" Blaine exclaims and Kurt whips back around to chastise him as Santana laughs and shakes her head. "Did I scream really loudly? Am I walking funny?" Seriously, is Blaine still drunk? Does he want everyone to know what they were doing last night? But Blaine doesn't look drunk, only red-faced and a little smug and oh, Kurt gets it. It was Sebastian who made that derisive noise. Because Kurt and his gay face could never satisfy Blaine. Blaine wants to make sure Sebastian knows. Kurt catches sight of Sebastian in his peripheral vision and, yeah, Blaine seems to have made his point if the look on his face is anything to go by.
"Stop making Kurt mad," Finn complains a moment too late, his voice muffled by his own arms and the tabletop that he is faceplanted on.
"Yeah, dude. It's his birthday," Puck agrees.
"That too. But he sorta yells and I feel like I'm gonna puke as it is."
"If you start a puke-o-rama in here, Finn Hudson, I will quarter you and burn the pieces in the firepit. Maybe the warmth from the flames will melt the frozen beer off of the deck."
"Nnngh," Finn mumbles into the tabletop.
"Please stop saying the word puke," Trent pleads from where he is seated on the floor with his head in his hands.
"And beer," Mike agrees, rubbing his middle.
Tina comes over for some pancakes and Blaine tops up her mug of coffee. Kurt catches the little wink she throws Blaine before going up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He laughs quietly in response to whatever she said and she pecks him on the cheek.
"Later," he says when Kurt raises a questioning eyebrow.
~0~
"It's later," Kurt says when they've said goodbye to the last car of guests. The roads had finally been cleared and Kurt was ridiculously relieved to send them all packing. He loves his friends but he wants nothing more than to put his pyjamas on and cuddle with his boyfriend for the rest of the day and night before his parents come home and Blaine has to leave. Blaine has taken advantage of Kurt's pleasure at having the house to themselves and convinced him to order an overabundance of MSG laden food from the local Chinese restaurant.
"What?" Blaine looks up from the fortune cookie he'd just broken apart, the small slip of white paper clasped between his fingers.
"What did Tina give you a kiss for? And you're supposed to save the cookies until the end of the meal."
"Oh," he says with a chuckle. "Nothing really. We were just talking last night about what a creep Sebastian is and she liked the way I, well, this morning." Blaine's face is bright red again and he looks incredulous.
"I can't believe you said that in front of everyone either."
Blaine laughs. "Ah, I doubt they cared or will even remember. Most everyone was still pretty wrecked. Anyway – Tina just said she thought I was awesome and she was dreading next year a whole lot less now."
"What does that mean?"
"We were talking about how next year we would be together at McKinley without you and Mike and how we could be friends to keep each other from almost certain depression."
"Aww, honey." Kurt pulls Blaine into his embrace and kisses his hair. "It'll go by quickly. And I'll be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas and Spring Break. And maybe you can come visit me for long weekends or something in between. And, hell, I might not even get into any of my New York schools anyway."
"You will," Blaine reassures. "You're too amazing not to. And I will come and visit. But that doesn't mean I won't miss you every single day."
"I'll miss you every day, too. God, it's going to be so hard. But we'll Skype a lot, because I won't be able to stand not seeing you all the time."
"Of course." Blaine's expression turns mischievous and he snuggles further into Kurt's side. "Will you have Skype sex with me?"
"Hell yes I will. You naked on my computer screen? Second best thing to having you in my arms."
Blaine laughs into Kurt's skin where his shoulder meets his neck."I love you," he whispers.
"I love you, too. This is going to be an amazing year, Blaine. For both of us."
"I know it is," Blaine says, sounding suddenly sure of himself. "The cookie just told me."
"Well, I wouldn't normally put a lot of stock in the promises of cookies, but I will make an exception just this once."