Tag: tw drinking

meme continuation. @indiesamevans

( mssg » sam | sent ) Wish Icoudl say I’m sorry for makng you blush but I’d be lying.
( mssg » sam | sent ) yourE welcome, i mean I noticed a long time ago but I 
( mssg » sam | sent ) fOrgot whre I was going with that. oh wow I ‘m drunk. this is Pucks’ fautl
( mssg » sam | sent ) Thank you forsaying that. I know that we ar just friends but I jsut want you to knwo you are beautiful and I adore you isndie and out.
( mssg » sam | sent ) that didn’t sound as good as I thought it would when I heard it in my head.

Seven Minutes (for Dave)

7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN MEME  @karoskyintheopen
(random roll: 5, shy/awkward kiss)

image

What were they thinking?  A bunch of people their age playing drunk teenager basement games?  Except they were well past teenagers and sitting in Sam Evans’ Lima, Ohio living room.  Drunk.  They were THAT.  Some more than others.  Blaine was two and a half sheets to the wind.  Three drinks in for the night.  A build up from the regular two it took to get him in the state he was in.  Or maybe Sam was going lighter handed knowing his best friend was..for lack of a better explanation a feather weight.  Happily buzzed, not completely drunk.  But one more shot and he might be crossing that line.  His laughter was light, carefree and content. Bright, sparkling eyes stayed pinched at their corners because he couldn’t erase the cheeky grin that followed each chuckle.  Until the first names pulled out of the bowl were..

“Blaaaaaaaaaine and…,” he could hear Sam’s voice question himself (or maybe the universe) as he read the second name, “Dave?”  Well.  They were years past what happened in high school.  Dave had become a friend to many of them and Blaine was an acquaintance that was friendly enough with facebook chatter and brief check-ins or congratulations. Dave even sent him a message to see how he was when Blaine’s status went from Engaged!!!!! to Single.

Still?  He didn’t plan on shutting the door behind them with the heel of his boatshoe and looking up into the face of an equally awkwardly smiling Dave Karofsky.  The walk there, he could see Dave wondering what the hell was going to happen.  Blaine just took his hand and squeezed it before he let go and the space around them went dark.  Blaine was close enough that his shoulder brushed against Dave’s arm as he whispered softly, “What a way to reconnect off the internet.  Two hours in, we’re both buzzed and..back in the closet.”  Horrible joke or a good one to break the tension?  No idea but he was smiling, his brows lifted and he shrugged a hapless, ‘sorry that’s the best I could do’ shrug.

ofscarllet.

Whens memories of this night floods back to him, or at least when most of them do, Barry would feel like dying from embarrassment. He’s never been a lightweight, not really. Before he wasn’t much of a drinker, and so much time’s passed with the fact his powers kept him from become intoxicated. Too much, too face. He should have slowed down a while ago. How will tonight end was anyone’s guess at this point. One thing’s for sure, there will be a lot of stumbling around. The CSI had been ready to make his way quickly back to the bar, only to be stopped by his cute boyfriend. Ugh. What did he ever do to deserve Blaine? He might as well be dating a corgi with how thoughtful, fun, and cute he was. Did he say that out loud? Nah. Wait… whatever. “Only– only ‘uz you asked so nicely,” came his slightly slurred reply after he had pouted at him. Once again he leans down to nuzzle his soft skin, inhaling a scent that was all Blaine’s, and pressing soft barely there kisses to the crook of his neck. A path was lead to those lips he just couldn’t get enough of, even when he was sober. “I want twenty kisses,” he negotiated, bumping their noses together. With a smile he pulled away enough to haphazardly drag them out to the dance floor as requested.

Blaine couldn’t help himself from squirming underneath the nuzzle against his neck.  Barry was drunk and he was two steps into buzzed and that feeling that ran goosebumps along the line of his throat closest to Barry’s mouth was too much to keep him perfectly still.  Laughing, he rolled his eyes towards the dark ceiling and tried his best to stop himself from an all out giggle fit. Because the only other reaction he could have to the light as air pecks that followed Barry’s moment of cute was going to be completely inappropriate for the state his boyfriend was in. “Twenty?  I think I can do twenty.  Do you require them paid back all at once?  Or can I pace myself,” he laced his his fingers with a set of long, expectant ones insisting they were taken. Then with a sway, he was being drug out onto the dancefloor and he watched in wonder that Barry was managing to take the lead through the crowd.  Oh, God.  Awkward giraffe barely covered how his limbs moved but Blaine had an ear to ear grin that said he loved seeing Barry so loose and carefree enough to stagger them right to where he wanted.  Coming in close, he lifted both their hands up and pressed a kiss to Barry’s knuckles and rested the other against a slender hip to draw him close enough that when he started moving Barry could match him. “Did that one count?”  Another kiss lingered on the tip of Barry’s middle and pointer fingers.  “How about that one?  Or am I still at square one?”

santana.

Santana enjoyed teasing Blaine probably more than anyone else. His rebuttals && offended expressions were pure gold. If reactions were currency, Blaine would be a millionaire. The small jabs at his fashion or perky personality never seemed to bring him down. That was something Santana valued in a person. Thick skin. If you can stand up && take the blows, while still understanding that they mean no harm — you’re officially worthy of the Lopez’s presence. Blaine was one of the few who could prove time && time again, that he was beyond worthy. It wasn’t just the same old game with him. It was pure, almost ecstatic, FUN. “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable? Are you really that unacquainted with your disco stick?” Her lips pulled into a confident grin as she threw the joke in his face. She really was having a good time. A nice comparison to some of the harder days she’d experienced these past few weeks. Santana’s cheerful laugh followed his expression when drinking the straight alcohol. Maybe she was a little tipsy already, but that was just making tonight all the more fun. “Knew you always had the hots for me, Anderson.” she teased with a smirk, slender fingers gripping the bottle to snatch it back. She did always had to have the last word after all.

Laughter, beyond buzzed and maybe DEFINITELY heading towards a little bit drunk, bubbled out of him and blended with Santana’s a heck of a lot better than the taste of liquor from the bottle was blending with his now non-existent tastebuds. Only the weak ones die, right? Hopefully.  Of course the chuckles happened after dropping his jaw and steepling his fingers against his chest in a mock expression of utter offense and hurt.  

“What if it did?  Would you take it back?  Probably not.  For the record?  NO.  I’m not offended by it.  I’m just more dignified than a man who would use such a term.   A gentleman would do no such thing,” he even tried to prove it by huffing indignantly with an upwards lift of his nose. “Or at least we have better phrases for it when we do.”  His hand chased after the bottle when she pulled it away.  So much for gentlemanly composure when you’re grabby handing at a bottle of vodka.  Or was that rum?  He forgot.  Gasping, Blaine gave her an owlish blink and then bent forward with a shove of his elbow against the back of the couch.  “How’d you figure it out?  And, let’s be honest and blame it on the alcohol.  You’ve always had the hots for me too, Lopez.” A scoff twitched his shoulders up as he waited for the bottle to come his way again and stole the time without it to taunt her just as hard back.  “Alas!  If my memory serves me right?  It can never be.  What a cruel life we live..,” his shoulders sagged and he feigned a pout of utter disappointment as he sank back still vodka-less.  Double bummer.

Druken Kisses II Puck & Blaine

puck.

“Damn right it’s a good pitch! But dude, we’re in high school. Most of the parties we go to will have alcohol. If you’re so worried about getting shit-faced, pace yourself. Or just limit yourself to one drink. Ya can’t get too drunk with only one drink…right?” Puck wasn’t sure how fast Blaine got drunk. He might be a lightweight. He chuckled at Blaine’s question. “Ya know, that’s a really good question and I wish I had an answer for ya. All I know is that I’m glad I’m not Mr. Schue. Having to deal with all of our teenage drama must drive him crazy! Oh and to be fair, the wanting to drown someone only happened once. It involved Santana and Rachel, but for a completely different reason. Mr. Schue was sick or something and Rachel decided that that day’s lesson should be her. Santana basically wanted to kill Rachel, who freaked the fuck out. It was quite amusing.”

“Trust me, from the sound of it?  He doesn’t do much to get involved when there’s real drama happening.  So, I’m sure he’s fine..,” Blaine let his thoughts slip in his buzzed haze before he could put a stop to them.  Rolling his lips between his teeth and pinching them down with a soft bite, he effectively shut himself up so he could regain his foggy common sense.  Letting them go to form an apology, he murmured under his breath.  “I’m sorry about that.  I shouldn’t have said that outloud.  Just seems like he’s pretty good at cherry picking what to get involved with and not to.  Bad taste in my mouth after my old school and what happened with Kurt there.  Anyway! Do you have a beer or maybe more water?  I’m fine with either one and they’d be great to shut myself up before I insult the leader you guys love so much again.  Not the impression I want to give off.  I would have loved to see what Santana must have looked like when she was about to go murderous though,” he chirped in quickly to change the subject, “Rachel must have been terrified.”

finn.

( text ):  i’m sure u would do the same for me. 
( text ): that’s what friends do. 

his gaze dropped down to the screen of his phone as he read Blaine’s incoming text, fingers swiping across it as he gathered his keys to leave, typing as he did so. He hit send before exiting his house, finger on the button of the keypad to unlock his car. He was worried, but thankful Blaine trusted him enough to text him in his time of need. Regardless of what had happened between his brother and Blaine, Blaine was still Finn’s friend and he’d do his best to keep it that way.  As he got in the car, adjusted the seat so he wasn’t sitting too close to the wheel and buckled his seat belt, he glanced at his phone once more before he finally stuck the key in the ignition- waiting to be turned.

( text ): don’t worry, i’ll keep it between us. 
( text ): i’m about to start driving so just stay put. 
( text ): i’m glad ur alright.  

after he sent the last slew of messages, he set his phone in the cup holder and turned the key; the car coming to life. he reversed quickly as he began driving toward the road, his nerves on edge. the grasp he held the wheel with tight, his knuckles white. he knew little of the bar Blaine was at, only that it was primarily for Gays, but he was sure with a little help he’d find it. As he stopped at a light, he figured it was the perfect time to pull up the address, propping his phone in the holder so he could make out the street name. His foot remained semi heavy on the gas as he drove, but not enough to warrant a speeding ticket and he made sure to use proper signals as he shifted lanes. A few miles later, he spotted the lights coming from the bar and he pulled into its parking lot, driving to the front. Distinctly he could make out Blaine’s figure and he sighed in relief as he pulled the car to the curb, parking before he got out and approached where Blaine sat waiting for him. “ hey, man. let’s get you home. ‘ he bent down ready for Blaine to drape his arm over his shoulder so he could help him walk to  the car. 

( mssg » finn | sent ) i Would. all you ever have to do is call me

The fresh air felt like it was doing him some good.  Blaine breathed the crispness in and let it go with a sigh, eyes daring to open and stare towards one of the cheap florescent lights up for focus.  This whole drinking business was always great in theory.  Always a good idea when you first start and, so far, it wasn’t too terrible after he cut himself off.  Here was to hoping tomorrow morning didn’t dump him on the suffering side of regret.  His phone chimed in his hand and he craned his neck enough to gaze down at the screen. 

Relief washed in when Finn promised to keep tonight between the two of them.  Asking him to keep a secret from Kurt wasn’t fair.  Or the right thing to do.  But he didn’t want to make an already messy situation even worse.  To say Kurt would be less than thrilled of his current life choices was the understatement of the millennium.  Both of them knew that.  Once he fixed things–he’d probably end up telling Kurt anyway because that’s how he was wired.  Just..after he fixed things was the key phrase.  He typed out his thank you before his head bobbed forward and he drifted off into a light sleep

Finn’s voice drew Blaine’s eyes back open. Thank God.  His neck already had a heck of a cramp and his legs weren’t much happier after spending so long in such an awkward position.  And if he was going to pass out, he’d prefer to do it in bed.  One arm wrapped around Finn’s shoulder and held on as he helped him to his feet.  “You are such a good person, Finn,” Blaine patted his chest with his free hand before he flounced down in the passenger seat then shot one of those drunken-serious stares up at Finn before he could shut the door.  “I’m so lucky for you.  You know that…don’t you?”

finn.

( text ): thx man
( text ): u too
( text ): i’ll b there in like 10 min
( text ): that’s a gay bar, right??!?
( text) : i’ll find it
( text ): don’t go anywhre i’m omw

( mssg » finn | sent ) yes sorry it’s a gay bar
( mssg » finn | sent ) i’ll wait outside
( mssg » finn | sent ) hey finn? thank you.

      Blaine shoved his phone in the back pocket of his forest green chinos after slowly standing up from his barstool minimal swaying involved.  A cheeky, oops grin given to the poor guy who was used as a leaning post to get there but the wink he got said the man didn’t mind it too much.  Yep.  Time to go.  Palming his face to wipe some of the buzz away (it didn’t work but A+ effort for trying), he blinked to steady his vision and began the slow walk towards the exit. An after thought had him buckling like someone threw a brick wall directly in his path halfway to the door and he hurriedly dug his phone back out.

( mssg » finn | sent ) ps. please dont tell Kurt.  HE’ll murdder me and I don’t wait to die.

Limbs folding like a marionette that had it’s strings cut plopped him on the bench outside, one leg tucked underneath his seat and the other stretched out.  Thank God for the wood beam next to it for something to rest his head against while he waited.