Anonymous prompted: two vampire friends (kurt and blaine) lying on the floor getting drunk and describing each other because they can’t use mirrors (x)
It takes remarkably little alcohol to get them drunk - an unfortunate side effect of a diet of synthetic blood - and Kurt is stumbling into Blaine’s apartment, stopping in the hallway to hang his coat and scoffing at the empty mirror across from him.
"Something wrong, darling?" Blaine asks, sliding an arm through Kurt’s and leading him to the living room where Blaine promptly collapses, dragging Kurt down with him. Kurt laughs through the sudden vertigo, stretching out next to Blaine and sighing heavily, his senses overwhelmed with the sharp smell of alcohol and Blaine’s cologne.
"I miss my reflection," Kurt admits, turning his head to meet Blaine’s dark, curious eyes. "I just— I miss looking at myself. It’s been 20 years since I was able to see what I’m doing when I style my hair, or see how well my shirts fit my shoulders, or- or see if I’ve aged gracefully or not.”
"You haven’t aged a day since you were bit, Kurt," Blaine reminds him gently. "An eternity without wrinkles: the greatest benefit to being undead, surely."