Lately, I've found myself in love with the seblaine fandom. So, I wrote this little drabble to kind of get myself back into writing. Also, these boys need more love. This is unbetaed, so excuse me for all of my careless mistakes. Also, reviews and criticism are always appreciated!

-runonrain

Sebastian knows Blaine hates it when he gets drunk. It hardly ever happens because, come on, it's not like he's a lightweight. But once in a while, Sebastian gets on a roll. One drink feels so good, so he has another, and another, and another. It's not like he tries to get drunk, "I'm just having a good time," he insists, then downs another shot of Smirnoff. The words start to slur and the colors start to blur, but he's positive he's not completely wasted yet.

There's always that point where he realizes he's more that buzzed. Where his rational mind is sure he's teetering on the line of alcohol poisoning, or something awful like that. In the moment, surrounded by a rainbow of liquors and never ending red solo cups, he couldn't give less than a tenth of a shit whether he wakes up on a random couch, a hospital bed, or in an alleyway when he sobers up. Because, his mind aches for another cup of Jack and Coke (which is actually 95% Jack and 5% coke.) He knows Blaine realizes it too, with the glares and the "I think you've had enough"s he gets from his usually sober boyfriend. Thing is, if Blaine notices Sebastian is getting tipsy, then by that point, he's probably drunk off his ass with no intention of slowing down. His thoughts tell him, "Sebastian, you're not that drunk," but he is "another drink won't hurt you." His feet tell him differently, as he stumbles around the party, as if he were in one of those funhouses at the cheap carnivals Westerville used to host. It's then he realizes how far he's taken it. Shit, he didn't mean to get that drunk.

The latest time is no exception. Sebastian is completely shitfaced as he stumbles out of a grandiose house, loud music playing in the background. He looks down at a trio of steps leading to the sidewalk, which, at the moment, are the devil incarnate. He holds one foot out in front of him and "here goes" crosses his mind as he plunges his foot into the unknown, the unknown being step number 1. He lands it, amazingly. A feeling of victory spreads throughout him. He lifts his foot once more, to move it to step number two, but forgets he left his other foot at the top of the steps. And, a bit too quickly for his inebriated mind to process, he falls to the hard concrete below. His life might have flashed before his eyes, if his brain had the ability to remember more than five minutes before. But, almost miraculously, he is saved by his knight in shining bowtie grabbing his waist in an almost anticipatory fashion. Before he knows it, he is being pulled up by Blaine's muscular arms, and being carried down the stairs. His arm is being tossed around his boyfriend's neck and Blaine's own arm snakes across his back and clutches at his waist, holding him up. Sebastian is basically dragged to the car and thrown into the passenger's seat. He hears Blaine mumbling to himself as he puts the key into the ignition and takes off. Sebastian pulls out words like "child" and "drunk" and "alcoholic" in Blaine's musings. He decides he doesn't like it. 'Cause it was a party, and he's really not even that drunk, but so what if he is? He's young, he wants to live a little. So maybe he shouldn't have brought a personal bottle of Courvoisier to the party, but it was BYOB for a reason wasn't it? Was it BYOB? Whose party was that? Either way, he was none of the things his boyfriend just called him, so of course he has to voice his opinion on it.

Which leads to Blaine's least favorite part, the drunken rambling. "I am not drunk, I am buzzed." He slurs out, or something like that. He rambles on about it until Blaine scoffs and turns on the radio so he doesn't have to listen to him. "Hey!" Sebastian shouts, "I was talking to you!" Blaine only rolls his eyes and turns the volume to drown him out as he continues. Blaine drags him into the apartment, and by this point, Sebastian's just repeating things he said earlier on in the ramble, having just finished the "Fuck Blaine, your ass is sooo perfect. And those arms, mmm, you look sexy as hell carrying me with those guns, do you work out?" portion of his speech. He is carrying Sebastian bridal style as he kicks open their bedroom door. Blaine carefully places (or maybe angrily dumps) him on the bed. It doesn't really matter, because he's asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Sebastian wakes up, head pounding. He rubs his temples in attempt to quell his headache. He turns to see the curtains are still closed, and thank God for that. A wave of nausea hits him and he dashes to the bathroom. He finds the door already open and the toilet seat up and ready for his arrival. After pouring the contents of his stomach into the bowl, he flushes and guides his way to the sink to rid the disgusting taste from his mouth. Toothpaste, toothbrush and mouthwash stand, waiting to be used. He purifies his mouth, and smiles, feeling minty and refreshed. He shuffles toward the kitchen/living room. A blanket is laying on the floor by the couch, a pillow by one of the armrests. He turns to see Blaine making cereal and coffee, Sebastian's favorite hangover breakfast. Blaine smiles, then motions to the counter, where an aspirin bottle and a tall glass of water sit.

He looks lovingly at Blaine, silently thanking him for all he's done. As he slowly makes his way to his boyfriend, he ponders over what he possibly could have done to deserve him after the night before and others like it. He loops his hands around Blaine's neck and drops his head to give him a quick kiss before he is stopped by a hand to the chest.

"You mouthwashed, right?" Sebastian chuckles and nods, pressing his lips to his boyfriend's.