Work Text:
Based on this prompt: 2) kublam morning after in vegas. yup,
Kurt stands at the foot of the bed, clutching his coffee mug in his hand. Despite spending the last fifteen minutes clutching the toilet and puking up a few of his organs, he’s still nauseous. His head is pounding, and the sunlight pouring into the room is not making it worse. His muscles are sore, his feet hurt from the hours spent walking around the Las Vegas Strip and he’s got a pretty wicked sunburn.
But as he stares at the bed in front of him, he mostly just wishes he could go back in time and smack himself, his fiance and his best friend upside the head and take their drinks away from them.
Fucking free drinks in the casino as long as you’re gambling. That’s how this started. Which moved on to them buying huge daiquiris in giant cups shaped like The Eiffel Tower and drinking them out of swirly straws. The last thing Kurt really remembers is deciding that they needed to collect those cups from every hotel on the strip so they had souvenirs to take back to their friends.
He’s really stupid when he drinks. He’s also very flirtatious. And when that’s added with Blaine’s tendency to be a horny drunk and the fact that Sam looks the way he does, it’s only natural that they did something stupid. Like getting blackout drunk with stupid Blaine and stupid Sam and their stupid inside joke about how Blaine has always wanted to do Sam.
A groan comes from the bed and Kurt looks down as Blaine throws an arm over his eyes and tries to block out the sun, but as he moves, the sheets shift, uncovering Sam’s naked body. Kurt tries to avert his eyes, but he can’t.
Sam really is pretty.
He needs to stop this. This is not okay. He and Blaine did the one thing they swore they’d never do. Okay, two things. Not only did they have a threesome, but they pursued and seduced one of their straight friends, when they have gay friends in New York who would have lined up to have sex with the two of them. Kurt’s not being cocky, it’s the truth, he knows Sebastian is still lurking around, at Columbia, and everytime the run into him, he looks at Blaine like he’s a steak dinner. And Adam, he knows Adam would do it if he asked, because he never says no to Kurt and he knows he thinks Blaine is cute. And Chandler is at NYADA, he’d definitely hook up with them. And that’s not counting the guys he sees eyeing them at clubs. Finding another gay guy to have sex with them would have been easy. But instead they had to seduce Sam.
Blam is going to be over, and it’s going to be their fault. Blaine will never forgive himself. And he’s going to resent Kurt. And they just got engaged, they’re going to break up again. With that thought, Kurt’s stomach rumbles again, and he has to sit down and take a deep breath to avoid throwing up on the bed.
Hopefully, this can be salvaged. Maybe Sam just watched and jerked off?
Kurt drops his head into his hands, thinking of whether he should tell Mercedes, when he feels a foot nudge him. He turns around and sees Sam sit up, his hair a complete disaster and his neck and chest covered in hickies and bruises. It makes Kurt dry heave.
“Dude, don’t puke on me,” Sam says, voice hoarse, “I feel like dying, am I dying?” Sam starts to get off the bed and winces, “Ugh, my ass hurts. Is it normal for your ass to hurt?”
“Oh god,” Kurt groans.
“So it’s not normal?”
“Sam, how much do you remember?”
Sam reaches over the side of the bed, feeling around for his underwear, and not finding them, he starts to look around the room and sees them sitting on the dresser.
“Not much. Did we have sex? I had sex with both of you? Wow.”
“Why are you guys yelling?” Blaine asks, his voice muffled from where his face is buried under his pillow.
“Sam, I am so sorry. Please don’t stop being friends with Blaine because of this.”
“Why would i stop being friends with Blaine?”
“Because we got drunk, couldn’t control ourselves and seduced you?” Kurt says as if Sam is several steps behind in the conversation.
“You did? That’s not how i remember it.”
“I thought you didn’t remember anything?”
“I remember enough to know that there was no seducing. You tried, but you started making these faces and I totally thought you were about to barf, but then Blaine told me those were your sexy faces, so I kissed you. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”
“Why is everyone talking so loud?” Kurt smacks Blaine and rips the cover off of him, time to wake up Blaine.
Blaine sits up squinting, “Am I dead? I’m never drinking again. Seriously, I mean it this time.”
“Blaine, what do you remember about last night?” Kurt asks, frowning at his fiace’s hickey covered neck. Those are definitely not Kurt sized hickeys, those are seriously huge hickeys.
“Lots of frozen drinks in souvenir cups, and you made out with Sam, and then I made out with Sam, and then I made out with you. And I think your phone rang, so I made out with Sam some more while you talked on the phone.” Blaine looks over at Sam’s mutilated, bruised chest.
“Did I do that? Was that me? I am so sorry Sam. Oh God, this is going to ruin our friendship, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Oh my God, will you two stop apologizing, it’s not that big of a deal. No one seduced me, I’m pretty sure I started it. Just tell me what to do about my sore ass, because sitting really sucks right now.”
“Oh Jesus,” Blaine says, hand over his mouth. He gets up and runs to the bathroom, only to come out a couple of seconds later.
“False alarm. Sorry. Sam, you’re telling me you bottomed last night?”
“Is that why my ass hurts? Am I gay now? Does this make me gay? Because I was really hoping to get back together with Mercedes at your wedding, I had a speech planned and everything, but if I’m gay now, that’s not going to work.”
Sam looks back and forth between Kurt and Blaine, hoping one of them has an answer.
“Um, that time I kissed Rachel, I thought I was bi, but I wasn’t. It was because kissing feels nice. Everything feels nice when you’re drunk, so maybe not?” Blaine offers, gently.
“He didn’t just kiss us Blaine, he had sex with us. He bottomed. This is not some high school sexuality crisis.”
“I know, Kurt, I’m just saying, I understand his confusion, that’s all.”
“Sam, I don’t think you’re gay, maybe you’re bi? Have you ever thought about guys like that before?” Kurt asks, crawling up the bed and sitting in front of Sam, taking his hand.
Sam looks up at the ceiling in deep thought.
“I always thought Channing Tatum had nice abs and I liked Magic Mike a lot, I bought the dvd and everything.”
“Oh god, can we not talk about that movie, I’m having a hard time not throwing up my organs as it is,” Blaine complains.
“Dude, I swear, I didn’t even notice your brother.”
“That’s it! You’re not gay!” Kurt yells, causing Blaine to clutch his head.
“What? How do you know?”
“You watched a movie where Cooper Anderson strips and you didn’t even notice him? No way you’re gay.” Kurt says matter-of-factly.
“Seriously Kurt? Are you serious? You said that movie was terrible and that Cooper was stiff and not believable as a stripper. And that the script was terrible.”
“The script was terrible, I may have said that other stuff because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings? But now is not the time for that.”
“Unbelieveable,” Blaine mutters to himself as he reaches for the closest pair of underwear he can find and pulls them on.
They sit in awkward silence for a moment before Kurt slaps his forehead.
“Oh no. You said I took a call while you were making out with Sam? You don’t happen to know who it was do you?”
Sam and Blaine look at Kurt and shake their heads. Sam gets up and grabs his underwear off the dresser and pulls them on, before flopping back down on the bed, on his stomach. Kurt gets up and grabs the hotel phone, dialing a phone number. His cell phone can be heard ringing, his “Viva Las Vegas” ringtone coming from under the bed. He reaches down to grab it before joining Blaine and Sam on the bed.
“Oh no,” Kurt says when he looks at his phone.
“Please tell me it wasn’t Burt,” Blaine says.
“I kind of wish it was,” Kurt replies, ominously, as he scrolls through his phone.
“Apparently, I facetimed Rachel and Santana. And Santana texted me this morning,” he hands the phone to Blaine and Sam.
Satan 4:14am
So, Drunky McBlackout, not only did you facetime Rachel and I, but you forgot to hang up. And Rachel is a better person than me, she hung up before we could catch you popping Trouty’s butt cherry.
Blaine and Sam stare at the phone.
“Your phone was under the bed, what’s the worst thing they could have seen?” Sam asks.
“They probably heard more than they saw, but that’s a little too accurate, so clearly, they heard enough,” Blaine answers.
“Our wedding is in two weeks. Everyone at our wedding is going to know,” Kurt says, shaking his head.
“No, they won’t. I have a plan. Finn and Puck get here later today, if they ask about my hickeys, we’ll tell them I hooked up with a girl last night. No one else has to know. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, Fact.”
“Santana wasn’t in Vegas, she was in New York, which means she’s going to tell everyone, What about Mercedes? What are you going to tell her? No way she’s getting back together with you now.” Kurt questions him.
Sam avoids their eyes, before getting up and getting dressed.
“Sam, you are not going to lie to my best friend about this. If you lie, then I have to lie, and Mercedes does not deserve being lied to,” Kurt says sternly, standing up and crossing his arms, glaring at Sam, which would be more threatening if he weren’t wearing a fluffy robe with his hair standing on end, looking like an adorably ruffled kitten.
“I, um, I’m not going to lie to her,” Sam mutters.
“You better not,” Kurt says, relaxing.
“Sam, why are you being weird now?” Blaine asks.
“Look, Mercedes and I may or may not have once or twice discussed the idea of me hooking up with a guy for her enjoyment. And once or twice you guys may or may not have come into the conversation,’ Sam says avoiding their eyes.
“OH MY GOD! You used us to get back with Mercedes?” Blaine exclaims, Kurt gasps and looks at Sam accusingly.
“What? No? I didn’t plan this. I didn’t come here with the plan to have sex with my best friend and his fiance. It’s just that it happened, and I know Mercedes isn't’ going to be upset about it, well, other than the fact that she missed it.”
“Then what was all that about being afraid to tell her at the wedding?”
“Well, I wanted to be sure I wasn’t gay first, I don’t want to get back with her and then have to be all on the DL with guys and stuff. That would be terrible. And I then she’d write a song about it.”
Blaine shakes his head. Kurt just stares at Sam in shock, not quite as used to Sam’s logic as Blaine is.
“So what now?” Blaine asks.
Kurt looks back and forth between Sam and Blaine before answering.
“We never talk about this again, which means, no Sam, you can not mention it in your Best Man’s speech. We bleach our brains, take showers, and forget that this ever happened. And if Santana mentions it, we tell her she dreamed it, and her Psychotic Mexican Third Eye is in fact wrong. And Sam, if you tell Mercedes, you have to tell her she can not tell anyone. Especially Tina.”
“Got it. It’s Fight Club. What’s the first rule of Fight Club?” Blaine asks. Kurt looks at him confused, Sam smiles.
“We don’t talk about Fight Club.”
Kurt shakes his head.
*****************************************
Two weeks later, Kurt and Blaine are sitting at the table with their wedding party, hiding their faces from their families.
That night in Vegas has been mentioned in every single speech given that night with the exception of the one given by Kurt’s father.
What happens in Vegas does not stay in Vegas when you’re friends with these people.