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.

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.”