"I'm too sexy for this shirt."
Who: rockstarwarbler and jewhawk
What: The morning after the BIG night before
Where: Kurt and Blaine's place, Hollywood Hills
When: Saturday morning
Rating: PG
Kurt was a supermodel. Some days, Blaine still couldn't get his head around that. But when they had to go to star-studded parties together, and he had to drape on Kurt's arm as his Plus One, he realised what a reality it was. Their home life and relationship was as normal and domestic as it came, despite the huge modern mansion in Hollywood Hills from Kurt's healthy pay packet. They were still Kurt and Blaine, and Kurt was the same with Blaine and his friends as he had always been. He just turned into the epitome of a supermodel in the public scene, and the party the night before hadn't been any exception.
It was a big night, and now it was the morning after. Puck, who had come along with the execs of the Record label he worked for, was now sprawled messily on the trendy sofa in the open-planned and bright living room. Blaine had just left Kurt throwing his guts up spectacularly in their en suite from a hangover after getting growled at about not wanting to be touched, and he had stormed into the living room to try and get Puck up before Kurt murdered him. He hadn't even gotten dressed himself, yet. He had to try and locate some Gatorade in the kitchen before Kurt dehydrated on him again like the last time and ended up in the ER of Cedars Sinai because had absolutely no freaking body fat whatsoever. "PUCK!" he snapped, jabbing his BFF in the arm to try and wake him up. When that failed, he picked up the vase of roses on the glass coffee table, took them out and tipped the water all over Puck's back. "GET UP!"
What: The morning after the BIG night before
Where: Kurt and Blaine's place, Hollywood Hills
When: Saturday morning
Rating: PG
Kurt was a supermodel. Some days, Blaine still couldn't get his head around that. But when they had to go to star-studded parties together, and he had to drape on Kurt's arm as his Plus One, he realised what a reality it was. Their home life and relationship was as normal and domestic as it came, despite the huge modern mansion in Hollywood Hills from Kurt's healthy pay packet. They were still Kurt and Blaine, and Kurt was the same with Blaine and his friends as he had always been. He just turned into the epitome of a supermodel in the public scene, and the party the night before hadn't been any exception.
It was a big night, and now it was the morning after. Puck, who had come along with the execs of the Record label he worked for, was now sprawled messily on the trendy sofa in the open-planned and bright living room. Blaine had just left Kurt throwing his guts up spectacularly in their en suite from a hangover after getting growled at about not wanting to be touched, and he had stormed into the living room to try and get Puck up before Kurt murdered him. He hadn't even gotten dressed himself, yet. He had to try and locate some Gatorade in the kitchen before Kurt dehydrated on him again like the last time and ended up in the ER of Cedars Sinai because had absolutely no freaking body fat whatsoever. "PUCK!" he snapped, jabbing his BFF in the arm to try and wake him up. When that failed, he picked up the vase of roses on the glass coffee table, took them out and tipped the water all over Puck's back. "GET UP!"