puck.

After making sure Sam and Blaine were buckled up, Puck climbed in the driver’s side of the truck and put on his seat belt. “That’s a good idea, Blaine, though maybe it’d be better if you two crashed at my place. If anything happened to the two of ya, I’d probably feel a teeny tiny bit of sadness.” He chuckled as he turned on the engine and pulled out of the parking space. “My mom won’t be home until like the afternoon tomorrow, so we’d have the place to ourselves. Besides, if Sam does throw up, you won’t be the only one who has to deal with the mess.”

“Thanks. You’re right.  It’s closer anyway and if by chance my brother pulls one of his surprise visits?  I’ll never live this,” he thumbed up at the swaying drunk between them, “down because he wasn’t invited.”  Sam’s head found it’s place on top of Blaine’s with a soft sigh and a pat to his cheek from the blonde.  “Love you Blaaaaaaine.  You’re m’friend. You too Puck even with your mohawk and your–woah where am I—  Dude that was like ANIMAL HOUSE!  I’ma do a–nope,” Sam’s mumble was directly into his ear.  Blaine swatted the air in front of his nose and mouthed, ‘Wow!’   Whatever was on Sam’s breath would take the paint off a car just by the smell.  The shorter of three kept his head still because this was the breaks for being a headrest to a drunk, completely out of it best friend.  As long as Sam didn’t start throwing up?  He was fine with the arrangement.  At the first sign of trouble?  Whether or not Blaine was doing all of this with a very strong buzzing spin going on?  Sam would find himself spending the rest of his ride to Puck’s house with his head hanging out the tiny back window Blaine blindly reached back behind them to slide open grateful that it took him all but two tries to figure it out.  “I love you, too, Sam.  Just don’t throw up on me and I’ll keep on loving you.”