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Wine Anyone?

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"Where have you been?" Blaine asked snarkily, looking up from his breakfast of french toast and bacon as Kurt stumbled into their shared apartment Christmas morning, tussled and still drunk. "It was your idea to go to that stupid holiday party last night and then you bailed on me within the first hour. Not cool Kurt."

"What?" Kurt groaned, looking around the open space to ensure he had indeed made it home. Satisfied with his achievement he nodded to himself as he attempted self consciously to straighten himself up. "Coffee?" He checked clearing his gravelly throat.

"In the kitchen. I just made a fresh pot," Blaine sighed getting up from the timber dining table. "You're still wasted though. Sit down on the sofa before you fall down. I'll get it."

"Thanks," Kurt swayed slightly almost knocking over their Christmas tree as he clumsily made his way to the sofa. Giggling, he kicked off his shoes, leaving them discarded in the middle of the floor before flopping down face first into the soft cushions.

"You stink of booze and sex," Blaine almost gagged, moving Kurt's shoes aside after sitting his coffee down on the lamp table beside the sofa. "Who was he?"

"We broke up Blaine. You don't get to ask me that," Kurt grumbled, slowly sitting up to drink his strong black coffee. "Mmm this is good," he hummed in relief as he swallowed the warm liquid down his raw dry throat. "Nutmeg?"

"Cinnamon, Blaine corrected him moodily. "Just tell me who."

"You'll see later," Kurt smiled softly, continuing to sip his coffee as he thought back to the night before and surprisingly the hottest night of sex he'd ever had in his life. "I invited him for Christmas dinner."

"You invited your one night stand, a complete stranger, to our orphan's Christmas dinner?" Blaine was becoming more pissed off by the second. "You don't know him Kurt. He could be a psycho killer."

"Yes I invited him to Christmas dinner. His family are all in France, so he was alone today," Kurt was annoyed that he had to justify himself. "Isn't that the whole point of an orphan Christmas to invite people who have no one else? Plus I think I kinda really like him."

"You barely know him," Blaine grunted in disgust.

"I know him well enough," Kurt frowned at his friend's poor attitude. "After all the man has been inside me Blaine."

"I don't need to know the details," Blaine huffed gruffly. "Wait, what?"

"So deep inside me," Kurt giggled again, putting down his coffee and holding his pointer fingers at least a foot apart. "He was huuuuuuuuge. I swear I can almost still feel him."

"Eww," Blaine looked totally unimpressed. "You took the bottom bunk? But You never..."

"Sometimes I do," Kurt smirked snidely. He loved taunting Blaine. Sure they were still good friends but the little prick deserved it for cheating on him again...and yes to be clear blowjobs did count as cheating even if Blaine didn't think so. "If I deem a man particularly worthy." Kurt licked his dry lips. "And trust me he was worthy. He did things to me that you'd never do."

"You're such a bitch sometimes," Blaine scrunched up his face as he returned to his breakfast.

"Blah," Kurt laughed, curling up on the sofa for a nap. "Stop being a cry baby. I think you'll like him."

"I like you," Blaine mumbled quietly, slurping his own coffee.

"Then you shouldn't have sucked that twink's cock on Halloween," Kurt sneered quietly, his eyes dropping closed. He was beyond exhausted after a very physically demanding night.

"You know that I thought he was you," Blaine replied, knowing himself that it was a lie and a very poor excuse. "He was wearing the same costume as you."

"I was dressed as The Flash Blaine," Kurt glared even though Blaine couldn't see his face. "My costume was red."

"I'm not as obsessed with The Flash as you," Blaine weakly defended himself. "How was I supposed to know his costume came in yellow too?"

"It doesn't douchebag," Kurt sighed. "That's the reverse flash. He's a totally different character."

"I don't care," Blaine shrugged disinterestedly.

"Well maybe if you had you'd have noticed it wasn't your fiancé's dick in your mouth," Kurt shot harshly.

"I don't want to argue about it anymore," Blaine sighed, getting up from the table to take his empty plate to the kitchen. "Would you like your gift now?"

"Yeah I guess," Kurt was beastly careless. He rolled over and accidentally off the sofa landing heavily on the timber floor with a loud thud. "Fuck," he cursed, dragging himself to his feet.

"You okay?" Blaine knelt by the Christmas tree, rummaging through all the gifts in search of the one he'd painstakingly chosen for Kurt in a last ditch effort to win him back.

"Yeah," Kurt dusted himself off before accepting Blaine's gift. "That one is yours," Kurt nudged a flat square present at the front with his foot. "I hope you like it."

Blaine picked up the gift that Kurt had indicated, looking expectantly at his room mate as he waited for him to open his first.

Kurt leaned against the table for balance as he removed the bow and then tore at the gift wrapping. "Tiffanys?" He looked at Blaine with narrowed eyes before he removed the box from the paper and opened it to reveal a silver ID bracelet engraved with his name. "It's lovely," Kurt smiled sadly, turning it over to read the word Courage etched into the underside. "But I can't accept it Blaine. We said a $20 limit and the engraving alone would have cost that much." Kurt sat it down on the table. "We aren't dating anymore. It's just not appropriate."

"I want you to have it," Blaine looked offended. "Please Kurt. It's personalised. I can't return it.

Kurt shook his head. "Just open yours," he requested impatiently.

Blaine nodded, tearing the paper off his gift. "Optimus Prime Socks?" He tried to hide his disappointment. "They're great," he lied. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kurt yawned. "I better start the turkey."

"You should go and shower and take a nap," Blaine sighed, looking again at his new socks with disdain. "I'll organise the turkey and wake you in a few hours. What time are you expecting your new lover boy?"

"About 3pm," Kurt smiled thinking of his potential new boyfriend. "I thought it might be nice for you to spend a little time with him before the others get here, since he might be here quite frequently from now on."

"Aren't you jumping ahead a little?" Blaine looked concerned. "You only met him last night."

"Just give him a chance," Kurt whined. "I want you to be nice." He bopped Blaine's nose, playfully. "Now where's that Turkey?"

"I don't want you near anything I'm going to eat until you've bathed," Blaine spoke firmly, gripping Kurt's shoulder and turning his body to face the bathroom door. "March yourself in there and wash," Blaine demanded. "Then we'll discuss you cooking the Turkey."

"I always cook the Christmas Turkey," Kurt protested, standing firm. "It's tradition. You know you're an awful cook."

"Shower first," Blaine rose his voice. "Just yell if you need help."

"I'm quite capable of showering myself," Kurt huffed, haphazardly making his way into the bathroom. How many drinks had he had last night? He'd lost count pretty early on but not before exchanging a wildly heated kiss under the mistletoe with an old acquaintance. That had been some kiss.

Kurt woke several hours later. He'd managed to survive his shower unscathed, dress himself in a pair of comfy pj bottoms and a t-shirt and get the turkey in the oven before passing out. "Make sure you baste it every 30 minutes," he'd ordered Blaine before dozing off on the sofa.

"Sure," Blaine rolled his eyes, beyond frustrated that he'd been left to prepare dinner alone for their friends and Kurt's new man. Who was this asshole anyway? Surely he wasn't that good in bed? Blaine was certain anything this new bitch of Kurt's could do, he could do better. Bring it! He thought to himself as he began to prepare the vegetables. No one is better for Kurt than me.

Sober now and only slightly hungover Kurt dressed in a blue cashmere sweater, just a few shades darker than this eyes, the tightest pair of indigo skinny jeans he owned and his favourite combat boots for Christmas dinner.

"You look nice," Blaine commented, watching Kurt baste the Turkey as he sipped a glass of wine and prepared a cheese plate.

"He looks incredible," a sassy yet familiar voice piped up from behind the pair as Kurt returned the bird to the oven. "I hope you don't mind the door was unlocked. I let myself in. I know you suggested I bring dessert Babe but did you have a clue that there's literally nothing open around here on Christmas Day? These are gas station donuts. They are probably terrible. We don't have to eat them. You can just toss them out if you want to. Sadly these are gas station flowers too," he scrunched his nose a little as he offered Kurt a sad bouquet of withering roses. "I'm sorry. These are really not typical of my standards. I had to improvise."

"They are perfect hun. Thank you," Kurt stepped forward. He accepted the roses with a fond smile before wrapping his arms around the delicious babbling man in his kitchen. Blaine watched on with his mouth agape. "Merry Christmas," Kurt whispered quietly against the taller man's lips before kissing him softly.

"Merry Christmas Gorgeous," he smirked, gripping Kurt's ass in both hands and holding him close as they kissed again. "Hey Blainers," his green eyes sparkled with delight as he gazed over Kurt's shoulder at his bewildered room mate who stood frozen as the crackers he'd forgotten he was holding spilt all over the counter top. "Merry Christmas."

"Umm y...y...yeah," Blaine stuttered helplessly, shocked beyond words by the identity of the man Kurt had described. He paused for a moment taking a breath to regain his composure. "Umm yeah Merry Christmas Sebastian," he finally replied, putting down the crackers to refill his wine glass. "Wine anyone?"