HoneysucklePink
June 1, 2022, 4:33 p.m.
Be Gay, Do Crimes
(Originally published September 13, 2020) 1) Never get into a land war in Asia. 2) Never go against Kurt Hummel in a battle of indiscretions when sobriety is on the line.
T - Words: 609 - Last Updated: Jun 01, 2022 475 1 0 2 Categories: Humor,
Author's Notes:
Inspired by this gifset followed by comments that Kurt would lose at "never have I ever" (except he would totally twist the game to his advantage): https://redheadgleek.tumblr.com/post/629123245680001024/honeysucklepink-kurthummeldeservesbetter
The next-morning coda is heavily thanks to @redheadgleek; you can find the original paragraph on her page!
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Santana just manages to lift her head to exclaim her incredulity at the situation. She is drunk…really drunk, laying on one end of the sofa, her feet tucked under Sam as he sits on the other end. He is bent over, his head in his hands mumbling “never again, I am never drinking again,” while Artie is nodding off in his chair, Brittany is sprawled across the rug topless, and the faint sounds of heaving come from the bathroom, courtesy of Rachel.
Blaine is on the floor with his head in Kurt’s lap, purring as Kurt massages his scalp. Kurt, who is sitting up in his novelty chair, is near sober.
“It was your idea to play ‘never have I ever,’ Satan. This is all on you.”
They had met up at the loft, a “last hurrah” before the last of them had moved out; Rachel had decided to return to the “full experience” of NYADA, dorms and all, while Kurt and Blaine had found a new apartment to start married life, a quick subway stop away from both their campuses.
It was Santana’s idea to play the drinking game, partly to “see just how shitfaced she could get Lady Hummel for once,” she cackled. She knew about the tattoo and the piercing…you couldn’t live in that close quarters and not see each other naked at least once, and she had dutifully taken Kurt to the dentist when he chipped a molar on the tongue bar. But…
“I can’t believe you have committed breaking-and-entering multiple times,” Santana groaned.
Blaine looked up. “Well technically he didn’t break into Dalton, he just snuck in.”
“Shut up, Hobbit, you and Sam both got to skip a drink because you actually did break in.”
“Hey!” Sam said, then winced at the volume of his own voice. “We retrieved stolen property, so it cancels out.”
“You screwed up, Santana,” Kurt grinned. “You could have been more explicit, said we had to be charged with an actual crime.”
“Yeah, and you didn’t specify that pole dances had to be in an actual strip club…I’m still mad I missed that, by the way,” Blaine pouted.
“Next time…ooh, we should install a pole in the new place!” Kurt perked up. “I mean, that or now that we can get into gay bars without a fake ID, we can dance there!”
“You had fake IDs?” Santana shouted, prompting another round of pained groans and clutched heads. “I give up.”
The next morning, Kurt (and to an extent, Blaine, who made sure to take a couple of ibuprofen and a full glass of water before bed) are up and shuffling in the kitchen, brewing a second pot of coffee and cooking copious amounts of bacon, sausage, and pancakes for their severely hungover guests.
Mercedes, who had turned in early to keep her voice rested and therefore missed the shenanigans, emerges from Rachel's room. "Morning, everyone... Kurt I thought you'd still be in bed?"
"Why should he be in bed?" Artie grumbled. "He kicked all our asses last night in 'Never Have I Ever' and barely drank."
Mercedes blinked. “Wait. That’s not how the game works. Kurt should have been the one plastered.”
Sam whimpers and Santana looks livid.
Kurt, who successfully argued that you took a drink if you hadn’t done it, smiles over the lip of his coffee mug. "Not my fault they forgot what Google's for."