No more perfect of a time for sitting up watching the sky than during
one of the year’s best lightning storms.  The thunder was so loud that
it shook the window each time it rolled across the sky.  Electricity was
in the air.  His view from a chair he dragged to the window was perfect.
Nothing could top it off better than some hot chocolate and a blanket.
Deciding to go in search for both, Blaine stood and wandered into the
kitchen starting a teapot humming as he switched the stove on and
took a step back.  Mug.  Packets of Swiss Miss.  Marshmallows.  Done!

He didn’t notice Santana until he was standing behind the couch where
he left the throw blanket his mom sent him for Christmas.  When he did?
He blinked in amazement and concern.  She was a wreck.  A bottle of
liquor hung from her hand and he was pretty sure her hair was in every
angle mathematically possible.  “Santana,” he whispered staring at the
half-empty bottle. “Are you okay?”  Stupid question.  She was downing
the liquor like water, looked like she wanted to crawl under the sofa and
never come out and, –wow–, her breath smelled flammable.  “First things
first?  Time to say goodbye to Uncle Daniels,” he sang down at her and
gingerly took the bottle.  A nudge of his knee told her to lift her calves so
he could plop heavily down beside her after a short jump over the arm of
the couch.  Blaine settled in, wrapped his arms around her legs and let
them back down to rest on his lap. He sniffed the bottle and stuck his
tongue out at the smell, nose pinched up.  “Call me Captain Obvious but
I’m guessing you hate storms. Want some company?”  Didn’t hurt to ask
but he was already giving her calves a comforting rub trying to get her
mind off the thunder and the bottle he sneakily sat on the coffee table.