puck.

“You’re welcome, dude. Yeah, I don’t want ya getting in trouble with your brother.” A small chuckle emerged from Puck’s mouth after Sam told him he loved him. “We all love you, Sam. Now try to relax and whatever you do, don’t barf on me, my truck, or Blaine.” They’d be home within five minutes and he prayed that if the blond teen got sick, it wouldn’t happen until they were in Puck’s house. “How many drinks did Sam have exactly? I’ve never seen him this wasted before.”

“Thanks.  Coop would mostly be mad that I didn’t hold the party at my house but it wasn’t my party to hold.”  Blaine was stuck on what to do.  Mostly wanting to ‘become one with the door’ to give Sam breathing room –and to distance himself from any potential horrible mess that might occur if Puck hit a bump in a way that disturbed the groaning blond enough to turn him into a volcanic eruption between the two of them. Or trying to comfort his friend and keep him distracted.  How distracted was too distracted?  Blaine was too buzzed to judge.  “I don’t know? I wasn’t paying attention.”  Maybe he should have?  “I know he got three with me? Whatever else he did was on his own,” hazel eyes darted up and down Sam’s profile and he cinched his teeth together in a wince, “poor judgement. Not mine.”