Tag: p: puck

puck.

Puck couldn’t help but chuckle at Blaine’s question. “I think you and I both know the answer to your question. Of course not. If you had told me two years ago I would be singing showtunes with a bunch of outcasts, I would have laughed in your face and probably stolen your lunch money.” He smirked as he imagined the look on Mr. Hummel’s face. “Eh, give him some time. He’ll eventually realize that you’re a cool dude who isn’t trying to sleep with his son. You’re not trying to sleep with Kurt, are ya?” He nodded his head “Yeah, that is probably one of the worst first impressions you could have. I’ve probably had worse though, so don’t sweat it, man.”

He pulled into a parking space and turned off the truck’s engine. “I live on the second floor, so all we gotta do is get Sam into the elevator and then into my apartment. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?” He was being somewhat sarcastic. Sam had basically passed out during the ride, so getting him from point A to point B was going to be a challenge. “Ya know, we could just leave him here and hope no one kidnaps him.” From the look of horror on Blaine’s face, it was obvious that the other teen didn’t realize he wasn’t serious. “Blaine, I’m joking. I wouldn’t do that to my friend!” Okay, so maybe in the past Puck might have done that, but Puck 2.0 wouldn’t.

Blaine laughed at Puck’s predictable reply to a rather obvious question.  One look at the mohawked jock that Kurt described as being the one to give him the final kick out the door to come and spy on Dalton was enough to read that Puck wasn’t the typical glee club kid.  Or so he probably liked to think.  In the end?  He was a glee club kid and nothing Puck could do–be it steal money, turn people into dumpster trash or try to flex his muscles until they tore–would change that fact.  Least he seemed to be more comfortable in his own skin from the scenario months ago?  Good for him.  Underneath it all–Puck was one of the good guys.  It was nice to see him seemingly okay with admitting that about himself now.  Straightening up in his seat–Blaine’s hands went to his lap and his eyes grew round as saucers.  “No–No.  I’m not just trying to sleep with Kurt.  I wouldn’t do that to him.”  Not that Blaine would or had done that to anyone. 

Puck didn’t need to know that.  Not that it was an important piece of information anyway and it was far too personal–drunk or not–to fess up to.  “Kurt’s too good for someone just trying to get with him like that.  We’re friends.  I plan on being the best one he’s ever had.”  Blaine’s bottom lip pulled down to show his teeth in an awkward grimace.  “No offense.”  Subject change! Great! Soon as the truck stopped–Blaine was out the door blinking in surprise at Puck’s idea they might leave him.  Did he mean that?  Clearly Blaine wasn’t sure by the wandering back and forth from Sam to Puck that his too-wide-eyes had on repeat.  “Oh!”  Relief!  “Good.  I thought you were serious for a minute. Come help me get him out of here?” Blaine’s head kept moving further and further to the side as he noticed Sam’s hunched over/slanted into–what was that position?–slouch.  “I think I’m gonna need help.”

puck.

Puck nodded his head as he listened to Blaine speak. It made sense that Blaine hadn’t paid attention. Most people didn’t pay attention to things like that. “You guys definitely can’t hold your alcohol like I can. That’s probably because I’ve been drinking since I was twelve.” He had done a lot of things at a young age. He didn’t have much adult supervision growing up. His dad walked out on them when he was five which resulted in his mother having to work three jobs to make sure that the two of them had a roof over their heads. “Have you ever been to my place before?” he asked, turning onto a side street. They were less than a minute away from Puck’s apartment.

Both brows arched up and he almost asked Puck if he was serious.  Who says they started drinking at twelve and isn’t full of it?  Took him about a solid shift of his eyes over Puck’s profile to answer that question.  Puck.  That’s who.  “Noah Puckerman.  Middle school rebel with a mohawk and a bottle of stolen Mad Dog.  Now a member of the New Directions singing showtunes.  Mmm.  Did drunk twelve year old you ever see that coming,” he grinned lazily and leaned back towards the window letting the air blow in over his face with the hope of sobering up.  “No.  I don’t think so.  Last time?  Kurt took me home and I passed out in his bed. Not sure how the conversation between him and his father went after I left but I’m still trying to say I’m sorry and I’m not a horrible friend every time he drops Kurt back off at Dalton.”  He frowned then dropped his hand out into the open air playing with the wind moving across his fingers.  “I’m not. You know?  That was a really big mistake I’m not sure I’ll ever live down.  Great first impression, huh?”

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.”

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.”

puck.

Puck smirked at Blaine’s statement. He wasn’t thrilled with driving ‘I’m about to puke Evans’ home either, but it was the right thing to do. He couldn’t just leave the blond at the party. That wouldn’t be right. He sighed after Blaine gave him the thumbs up and started walking towards the front door. He had to practically push teenagers out of the way so they could pass. Was everyone here wasted and blind? Kids these days.

When they got outside, Puck let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god! I swear if one more person got in my way, I was going to lose it. My truck’s right over there,” he told Blaine pointing over at the general direction of where his truck was parked. Sam was too far gone to notice or care. After walking over to his truck, he quickly unlocked it. “Here comes the fun part!” He opened the passenger side door and helped Blaine put Sam into the truck.

The chilly air was a welcome pick-me-up.  Hazel eyes dramatically rolled towards the sky overhead and he nodded in agreement mouthing a ‘thank you’ to the heavens above.  “You have no idea how much thank God I feel right now,” he mumbled across Sam’s chest to the poor soul taking most of Sam’s weight and probably some of Blaine’s on his worst misstep blunders.  “–Fun part–OH!”  Their way-too-drunk friend was halfway in when Blaine caught on. Perfect timing, too.

Sam’s foot got caught against the hump on the floorboards and he quickly leaned to push it to the other side.  Or they might’ve ended up with Sam toppling out onto the driveway. Blaine tossed Puck an ‘I hope this doesn’t backfire on me–literally–” stare as he climbed in, buckled up and fit himself snug against the door.  There would never be enough distance between him and the potentially sick Sam.  “I can give you directions to my house.  My parents aren’t home–theyneverare–,” insert drunken improperly timed blurted self-reveal, “Safer for him to pass out there instead of worrying his parents.”

has the potential to be the ride from hell.

He ignored his phone when it went off. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t mention it.” He was surprised when Blaine slung his arm around his shoulders. Puck didn’t like being touched by other guys. Luckily for Blaine, he was going to let this slide. The man was clearly too drunk to think clearly. He shook his head in disgust as he looked over at Sam. This wouldn’t be the first time the blond had thrown up in his truck. And it probably wouldn’t be the last. He just prayed that when Mt. Evans was going to erupt, it wouldn’t be on him. “Yay,” he sarcastically replied. “We better get going. Help me with Sam?” He took Sam’s left arm and slung it over his shoulder, waiting for Blaine to do the same.

“Yeah we should get going.  Hey.  Has anyone told you that you’re a sturdy guy,” Blaine patted Puck’s chest and gave him an impressed pout while his head bobbed.  Yep. Three sheets to the wind was about two sheets ago.  Poor Puck was a Blaine Prop-Me-Up already. Swaying next to him as they walked, the shorter of the pair jutted his finger in the direction of the green tinted skinned blonde.  “You mean we’re taking him?”  Did he say that?  O think it? Was he a jerk in his head?  Or a jerk in real life? Pardon him for being buzzed and too honest. Sam throwing up on his sweater wasn’t the way he planned on ending tonight.  Uhm–He didn’t have a particular plan in mind?  Sam puking on him definitely wasn’t one.  Puck made the decision for both of them by slinging Sam’s arm over his shoulder and instructing Blaine to do the same. Blaine winced and found his center of gravity and babystepped to Sam’s right side.  “We got you, buddy,” he mumbled and hoisted Sam’s arm around himself.   Crossing Danger Zone of Sam’s front, he bent forward and gave Puck a thumbs up.  “Got him.  Lead the way before he gets greener.  If that’s even POSSIBLE.”  They both knew what it meant of Sam did.  Gross.

 not hitting on you.

Puck chuckled when he read Blaine’s replies. Of course the other male was hitting on him. Everyone was attracted to him. He was just that hot. But, if Blaine wanted to pretend that wasn’t happening, he’d play along.

( mssg » blaine | sent ) Be right there!
( mssg » blaine | sent )

I swear to god, if Sam throws up in my truck, I’m going to kill him.

He quickly downed the rest of his drink and pushed his way through the crowded room, looking for Blaine and Sam. A smirk appeared on his face when he spotted the two teens leaning against a wall. “’Sup?” he yelled over the loud music. “My truck’s parked outside. I’ll get you two home as quickly as I can.”

Blaine stood there staring over the top of his phone at puck with a set of huge hazel eyes hoping he made his point clear.  Those texts were meant for someone else completely. TOTALLY.  His concentration was trained on Puck so much that when his phone went off in his hand, he jumped and nearly dropped it.  “Gah, dammit!”  Blaine fumbled and bent with the motion but it never really left his hand completely.  He’d count that as a successful not-dropping.

( mssg » puck | sent ) TANKHS!

Puck’s phone went off when he was already standing beside Blaine.  Chances of Sam puking were as strong as the color of green his skin was.  “Thanks, buddy!”  Puck received a twinkly eyed, toothily appreciative grin as Blaine hesitated once, twice then figured -Hell with it- and slung his arm around Puck’s shoulders pulling him in with a crook of his elbow to slur into his ear. “If you’re counting on that threat equalling him not throwing up?  I wouldn’t, man..  See that guy?  He’s gonna lose it.  BIG TIME.”

puck.

( mssg » blaine | sent ) Dude, how drunk are ya?
( mssg » blaine | sent ) Nah, I’m not drunk. I hold my liquor better than you do.
( mssg » blaine | sent )

Is that why you’re hitting on me? I mean, I’m flattered, but I like chicks not dicks.
( mssg » blaine | sent ) Ya need a ride home, dude?

( mssg » puck | sent ) VERY! so mcuh.
( mssg » puck | sent ) dont’ judge my abilityy to hold my liquro me puckeremanni ‘ll have you know i’m not bad at holding it eiether but tonight was a litle too muchh
( mssg » puck | sent ) hitting on y ou? i ‘m not hitting on you. thatw as a mistake. godd to know I flattred you though. you’re  Aokay  in my book. thumbs up! 
( mssg » puck | sent ) yes pelase.

i thinnk sam’s going to throw up let’s sgo now

⁇

send me a symbol for a text message

Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.  @theoriginalbadasspuckerman

( mssg » puck | sent ) i bnet i can have myseldf out of my pants faster than your drunke fingers can’ get me Otu of themm
( mssg » puck | sent ) wanr to race me? loser ends up t he winner anway cause they’ll be the first one nakedd. this msight be one contest i’ll throw willinglly.  yuo can’t joirn the team to avoid defeat this time. hahaha! why are you straing at me like that? y oure not drunk are you?
( mssg » puck | sent ) oh no ignore these texts please i thoughjt 
( mssg » puck | sent ) hi puck how ar eyou?