did you just pick me up?

Finn had been lying in the living for a while watching television. He had taken the opportunity of being alone to turn the living room in his cave and hibernate there for late night movie sessions. He was perfectly comfortable sitting on the couch in his pajama bottoms and his feet propped up on the coffee table as he drunk a few beers. He raked his fingers through his hair then stretched his legs out as he slouched down more. He was on his sixth exploitation movie and he was well into his much need marathon when he swore he could hear something outside on the porch. He looked toward the door and stood up carefully, the last thing he wanted was to be murdered in Captain America pajama pants. Finn grabbed a vase and walked over to the door and looked through the peep hole when he saw someone lying on the ground. He murmured under his breath and sat the vase down so he could open the door and it was Blaine. Blaine “Dapper” Anderson on his ass.

“What the hell are you doing out here, dude?” Finn didn’t mean to sound so irritated but he was confused and he was a little annoyed. He didn’t expect anyone to just show up at his place. Well, his mom’s place but while she was out of town with Burt it his place. At least until they got back. He reached down and pulled Blaine up then lifted him from the ground with a grunt. Finn walked into the house and kicked the door shut. He walked into the living room and unceremoniously dropped Blaine into the recliner then he sat down and looked at him, shaking his head. “Are you drunk?”

Yeah–laying on a hard, cold surface wasn’t the most comfortable but the chill  on his cheek felt good.  Blaine let his eyes close because laying still made the world start to spin.  Losing track of time is easy to someone as hammered as Blaine was. How long ago did he knock on the door? A few minutes?  Less?  Hours ago was what it seemed.  Building up the mind to move? Gonna take longer than that.  A boat shoed foot slid several inches.  See?  Movement!  The building blocks to getting up were already being laid.  Sooner or later?  He’d get there!  God, how’d he end up this bad off?  Too many thoughts and even more liquor to be drank.  That’s how.  No refresher course needed but he gave himself one anyway.  Finn’s voice tugged him from the road he nearly lead himself down.  The exact one he swallowed so much alcohol to avoid.

One eye cracked open and he lifted a hand, palm out and crooked fingers waving a plea.  “It’s not what it looks like.”  What the hell else could it be?  Not that he had time to answer!  Strong arms wrapped around his body, gravity shifted and he was hoisted off the ground.  Warmth surrounded him once he was inside, feet kicking for grounding that they just couldn’t get the entire way until he gave up about four feet from the chair.  Blaine went down like a marionette with the strings cut landing in whatever position his limbs went when Finn plopped him.  A leg cocked out, one bent and hands cupped together in his lap.  His head fit perfectly into the crease of the side and back of the chair.  Half-shut eyes wandered his stare over to the confused man–mouth opening and closing around silent words.  Shaking his head no–he went the opposite route with what he said, “Yeah.  I think I am.”  He lifted his hand and pinched his thumb and pointer together, nose scrunched in a ‘no big deal’ cringe.  “Ah–I–mean a little.  Hi. Thanks for bringing me in–it wasn’t very comfortable on your porch.”