Another short laugh escaped Hunter as he gazed at the fellow once again Warbler. The stories of Glee club weren’t particularly interesting in theory, but to somebody who never lived a life like theirs — he liked getting an inside look. Hearing a little bit of what made the place so worth going to peaked his interest. There was only so much a person could assume. “You need to watch your influences. I can understand the less classy lifestyle, but I wouldn’t risk your health on it.” he teased, though his honesty was a bit far fetched. He didn’t understand a less expensive lifestyle. It wasn’t how he was raised. But from the little bits he’d heard from Blaine, he thought it was worth exploring. Even if it was the equivalent of a mixed liquor hangover. Taking a longer sip at Blaine’s encouragement, Hunter tried to relax against the couch as he did. Within seconds he had his eyebrows furrowed, debating if chillingwas actually something he enjoyed. “I’d love to see you try. Catching up includes drinking faster, you realize that right?”
“Risk my health? Nah. Nothing like that. I have Sebastian to thank for turning me away from mix choice wine coolers and broken into parents liquor cabinet blends. I never tried anything other than occasional holiday wine with the family and those messes. Until he made me sit through an entire half hour of him explaining the differences of every Scotch on the planet. The guy really knows his stuff,” Blaine laughed happily at the memory as he squirmed further into the corner of the large leather couch they were sitting on. Two hollow echoes of polished dress shoes hitting the floor later, he brought both feet up onto the cushions and wrapped one arm casually across his shins. The other lifted as he hurriedly swallowed a few more sips at the challenge. With minimal cringe factor. “I’m trying.. Just not as good as you are at this yet.” He teased happily and tilted his glass towards Hunter for him to see he was finally in need of a refill. “So.. You looked awfully confused about my New Directions stories. You’ve never given it a shot? A basement party with a bunch of almost strangers from a different school, I mean? You’re missing out. Life lessons and all,” he quirked his brows and grinned, “Especially the whole rum plus vodka is not remotely close to a good idea..”
Sam shoved his phone into the pocket of his hoodie, very happy that Blaine was coming to pick him up. For the life of him he didn’t know how else he would have gotten home. He might be drunk but even he understood he would probably had gotten lost if he had really done as he texted to Blaine, walk home. Making his way to the kitchen he took one of the red plastic cups and filled it with water when he vaguely remembered something from one of the messages Blaine had send him.. water was good. So he figured he drink some.
He sat down on top of the counter and waited for Blaine to come pick him up. He frowned, taking his phone out of his pocket and looked at the messages he send his best friend. Oh shoot, that first one.. hopefully he could convince Blaine it was just him being really drunk that made him send a message like that. He soon forgot about his worry when he heard someone call his name. Looking up he grinned, waving at Blaine when he spotted him. “Yo, over here!” he let himself slide of the counter top and stood on his feet, leaning against the counter to keep his balance. “Hello,” he still waved while Blaine got closer.
There he was! Missing Sam sitting on top of the counter was impossible. Maybe because of the blond hair. Or the fact he was towering above everyone else from his chosen seating arrangement. Or..maybe because he was just Sam and finding him was the only reason Blaine was here to begin with. You know. Yeah. That’s all. No other reason. Definitely not the text message that Sam was trying to figure out a way to convince him was completely harmless drunken banter and nothing more. Of course it was, they both knew Sam wouldn’t actually check out his butt, right? And MOST definitely not the fact that Blaine knew he was on a single sided track of falling for his best friend. One that’d end up with him getting slammed face first by the freaking bullet train if he didn’t get over it.
Nope. None of those reasons. Only because he found who he was looking for and it was time to get Sam home to sleep off his current state and avoid getting in trouble for stumbling through the door at his own house. A soft chuckle lit him up as he approached. “Hey, Sam,” he called out and waved back glad that Sam landed on both feet and didn’t topple over. “You look like you had a great night. Um..” An arm was slid around Sam’s middle to offer support and he prepared to steer Sam through the house if needed. “Ready to get out of here?”
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.
Seeing Barry fully let loose made Blaine’s chest fill with warmth and his smile was unfadable as he watched the drunk character of his boyfriend for the first time. And it was adorable. Putting out the suggestion for a dance or three (he, actually, planned on making it more than a few just to space out the next set of drinks) was his means to keep Barry from getting falling over drunk. Hey! Those were some long legs! One of his favorite parts of Barry, sure, but the man truly had a set of legs that would put a giraffe’s to shame! Even if Blaine was strong and he knew he could pick him up? How awkward would not only they but adding in limp noodle arms to the mix be to keep under control? When you’re standing at 5′8″ (on a good day with shoes on but no one had to know any different and Blaine would go to his grave claiming that was his true height if anyone asked) trying to tug along someone that clumsy and limbed? It pretty much equated to a corgi trying attempting to use his teeth to tug a down-for-the-count great dane by the collar to wherever it’d be safe for him to pass out. Mental image of that aside, shivers tingled up his spine at the kisses to the crook of his neck. Weak spot, no fair! And the negotiation was readily agreed to with several quick nods before a thick swallow and a smile brightened Blaine’s features. Nose bumps? Blaine melted. Lead out onto the dancefloor–he said a prayer for his toes before pulling Barry close and starting to move to the music. “I just want to let you know? You’re so cute right now, that it’s almost too cute. It’s pretty unfair!”
Hunter wasn’t one to comfort people hands on. He didn’t usually try to help at any capacity. Still, with Blaine he wanted to put his best foot forward. Maybe at one point it was to get a good word in with the rest of the Warblers, but now it was so much more. “That sounds — DISGUSTING.” another short laugh followed his statement. Both arms pulled back after that, but he still remained close. He had to be close to Blaine because honestly, he was a bit tipsy && the idea of being near him brought a new kind of warmth to his chest. “Well, pride is my specialty. Of course. Just be careful next time.” without another thought, he returned to his drink, hoping the prior incident wouldn’t dampen the mood of their time together.
“You have no idea how gross it was. I swear after the first layer of the weakest tastebuds were numbed away? It should have gotten better,” Blaine cringed with cinched teeth and a scrunch of his nose, “but it didn’t. Still? After a while of drinking it? I don’t think I noticed anymore. Not until the next day anyway.” God, the hangover from Rachel’s smorgasbord of everything in the liquor cabinet Puck could steal was the reason why Blaine preferred to stick to wine or beer since. The whiskey might’ve given him a flashback to the morning where he begged for Kurt to shut off the sun and poor Kurt having to deal with him barely wanting to move if it hadn’t been over a year since that party and he had some time for his body to partially forget that agony. Sitting close to Hunter–Blaine let his head fall to rest against the back of the couch waiting a minute or two before he took the next sip. Huffing at Hunter’s comment about being careful–the Warbler rolled his eyes and smiled from ear to ear. “I’ll try. Thank you for your concern. You don’t have to wait for me. I’ll try to catch up.”
Santana watched him as he scanned the room. He looked to be contemplating, or something. So she wanted to know the extent he’d go to. How much would he question her before listening && pushing his concerns to the back of his mind? That was a question she asked herself all too often. His compliance made her grin, && once he was sat her body shifted his way. “Nice stuff.” She cooed, picking up the bottle of vodka while nodding at the soda water on the table. “Vodka soda, it’s very nice. So are you. Very nice. In a gross way.” she added, though her body nestled beside him to get a sense of absent minded comfort.
Santana settling in beside him made Blaine smile. She was always so warm and soft when she got like this. Of course he gently wrapped one arm around her and settled in for the long haul. It wasn’t the first time they’ve done this and it wouldn’t be the last. Not with Santana’s panache for Friday night vodka and his always seeming to be there to keep her entertained. Or to offer up a snuggle if she needed one. Hey–this version of getting drunk Santana (to put it lightly and kindly as possible) was much better than the one he met years ago in Rachel’s basement. Why not enjoy her company and have a drink to two? “Vodka. Should’ve guessed. Is this the same stuff as last time because I didn’t get a hangover off that. A good sign we’re moving up in the world, huh?” He joked wiggling forward just far enough to grab the glass. Hovering it just under his nose, he took a sniff like he’d be able to tell the difference if he did.
hunter.
Hunter could laugh at him freely. He was a blunt && to the point person. Laughing at someone was nothing new. What was new was caring for the person’s outcome. Needing to know that Blaine was okay was just as important as his own entertainment, maybe even more so. A thought he wouldn’t dare spend another second on. Without realizing it, Hunter’s hand went to Blaine’s side, securing that he was going to be okay. “Try to go slow next time. This isn’t a drink for chugging, simple mistake.” he shrugged off the incident before guiding them both to the couch. “Sit && let your mouth recover. You can have the next drink once you’re alright. — Really, are you alright?”
Blaine was grateful for the hand at his side and leaned into it without a second thought. Though he was sure that he shouldn’t feel the contact send a wave of chills out so far they spread across the small of his back and his belly from the outline of Hunter’s hand–he quickly brushed off the thought and let himself be lead to the couch. “Thanks, I’ll go easier next time. Just the last time I drank? Tasting what was in the glass wasn’t the priority. Especially with the mix of everything in there. It was sort of better not to.” Another dab at his lips and he felt his face heat up at the question. How badly did he react if it was enough to provoke that level of concern? His chuckle shook his shoulders and made him smile wide more than made any sound. “My pride is more bruised than my throat. So, yeah. I’m okay. Promise. Thanks for asking.”
“Warblubber, I need you.” Santana’s voice echoed down to her target as her eyes followed. They trailed up his body with a slow pace. Just so she could soak in what she had. “I’m two drinks in, thinking about people I SHOULDN’T be thinking about, but I refuse to pass out so soon. Accompany me?” Though the notion was sweet, it was clear her kindness was mainly from the liquid courage. Without it, she’d add a few more snide comments for her wall.
Warblubbler? That one was new. Santana must be oh about–yep. He was right Two drinks in. That’s when her creativity for insults usually amped up a notch from deadly if she wanted to–well–sort of adorably nonsensical yet charmingly sweet. Although confusing on how she managed to think them up on the first place. Blaine watched as she slowly trailed her gaze up his body and arched both brows when their eyes met. She had him at ‘accompany me’. Rolling his eyes and puffing out a laugh–Blaine plopped down beside her and nudged a navy blue and gray flannel covered leg against hers. “Such a proper invitation. How can I say no? So! What are we having?”
“I don’t know how they do it back at MCKINLEY — but you just tried to down 200 dollar bourbon. No wonder you’re coughing…” Hunter chuckled at the sight, but easily handed the male a napkin && his hand to stabilize himself if needed. “You feeling alright, Blaine?”
Oh holy!!!! The bourbon felt like liquid fire that he willingly swallowed without even being dared to do it! The flavor filled his mouth and nose as he coughed and blindly swatted his hand in desperation until he latched onto Hunter’s arm instead of his hand. Close enough! Tears were in his eyes when he opened them again and he palmed the napkin then covered his mouth with both. Rapidly nodding that he was okay (embarrassed but okay)–the shorter of the pair blinked the wet off his lashes and stared down at the cup. “That tastes like a forest fire in my mouth,” he sputtered out and ignored his mouth filling with saliva. “How many tastebuds do you think were sacrificed to that swallow?” And was it enough to save some face and do one next time without choking to death?
The goal had been to just be tipsy, but not flat out drunk. Clearly the time that’s gone by since the last time he actually got drunk had some effect in a way. For now, Barry was a light weight. Should have seen that one coming. Well, it would certainly be a learning experience for the both of them. Barry’s leaning on the shorter, not too much, even in his muddled state he was aware they’d probably topple over if he did– given his height. He looked so proud at the comment, and that Blaine agreed with him; “I am super creative, well,” he said the rest in a hush tone, which really wasn’t all that quiet. “That’s not all of me that’s is super–” he handed the drink over to Blaine for him to try, while leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek. “Yup, lots of fun!” an idea popped into his head, so to speak. He nudged the other, with that big grin still on his face, “I should get more shots!” He was giddy, happy, energetic, and someone needed to stop this boy before he ends up tripping over his own feet, and breaking something. Probably himself. Or poor unsuspecting furniture.
Oh my god. This was so adorable that Blaine could feel himself getting a cavity from the sweetness of watching his boyfriend get increasingly excited, happy and goofily drunk. His eyes flared wide at Barry’s afterthought and he had to palm a laugh to keep from outright bursting into a fit of it. Blaine made sure to take an extra long taste of the drink. Draining nearly half of it to slow Barry down. But he had to be careful. The taller of the pair wasn’t the only lightweight out of the bunch. Yeah–he’d grown up some. It took more than one beer to get him drunk like it did when he was a teenager. He still had his limits a lot sooner than most. Blinking as Barry about darted off after the peck to his cheek–Blaine caught him by the elbow gently and nudged him towards the dancefloor instead. “How about you and I have a dance or two first? You can even step on my toes and I won’t hold it against you this time. Then we’ll stop by the bar again.” For water but–hey–he’d get to that later. After he got a few dances out of his super everything boyfriend. “Come on. You can show me your moves and I might even toss a kiss or ten your way for your troubles,” he bribed with a grin and wiggle of his brows.
( mssg » blaine ) everybody likes compliments, cright? ( mssg » blaine ) uhm, jackson’s place, yuo know that tall dude from the bjasketball team. like 2 streets frowm puck’s. can’t miss it, loads of cars outsidde. oh that’s super smart thinking right there. brilliant idea! you’re a great bet friend. ( mssg » blaine ) bso drunk. gonna be in gso muhch trlouble if they see me like this
( mssg » sam | sent ) You’re right. Everyone does. ( mssg » sam | sent ) Two streets down from Puck’s place. Got it. I’m grabbing my keys and I’ll be on my way. ( mssg » sam | sent ) Don’t worry. I got your back.
Blaine tucked his phone into his back pocket with a half grin and huff of laughter. Sam. Sam. Sam. What was he going to do with him? The boy was beyond drunk and, even though Blaine appreciated the compliment (which, by the way, he already made a mental note to ask Tina when he saw her Monday in class where the description came from if only to give her a hard time) he knew his friend was more than five sheets in the wind to give it. Didn’t mean that it didn’t make him grin ear to ear happily at the words. Who doesn’t like to know someone appreciates their..um..assets? Especially someone like.. Oop! Yep! Time to go! Definitely not time for his head to wander down that path loaded with trap doors into ComplicatedTown. He had enough in his life that was complicated already.
He got there as fast as he could and parked among the dwindling number of cars. His nose crinkled at the sight of some guy he didn’t know deciding that a hedge near the door was a good place to pray to his absent ‘porcelain god’. “Well. Someone’s going to hate life in the morning.” He’d grab the guy a glass of water on his way out since he wasn’t planning on staying here long. Stepping inside the house–he overlooked several make out sessions and a few people dancing and sharing shots as he walked past. “Hey, Sam?” No sign of him. Down the hall he went towards the kitchen, calling out trying to find the blonde in question. “Sammy? Anderson Taxi! At your service!”
pianokeysandbowties 