theirquarterback.

❛    I  MEAN  —–   ^{you  smell  good  to  ME  ;  but  i’m  not  really  your  target  audience,   so …     ❜            shoulders  rise  &  fall  as  a  smile  curves  his  lips.         ❛      ———–  i  don’t  think  it’s  too  much.             it’s  way  better  than  if  you  tried  to  drown  yourself  in  axe  at  least.    ❜}

Blaine laughed, smirking in relief that he wasn’t walking around smelling like a Hershey’s bar.  “I do?  Great!  Thanks.  That’s what I was hoping for.  I don’t think I’ll ever be one of those Axe guys,” he scrunched his nose and batted his fingers in front of it like he was trying to chase off a God awful smell.  “The entire locker room smells like that nonstop during football and hockey season. Any season, really.  Now that I think about it..”  Maybe it’s a McKinley thing?  “Hockey’s just the worst.  Sometimes I wonder if I’ll choke to death on the fumes mid-swing at a punching bag.”

“They lather that stuff on.  Don’t they?”