31 Texts From Last Night: Day 7-- (R) (1/2)test_kard_girlJanuary 8 2012, 01:38:06 UTC
(703) Someone was playing Tic-Tac-Toe on my abs?
Puck wakes to the sound of giggling, and instantly thanks the Big Man Upstairs for giving Santana the balls to make up for all those years of denial by being pretty shameless about who else is in the room when she's sexing up her girlfriend.
He lies perfectly still, fuzzily noting that, ok, he passed out on the carpet instead of an actual bed. Whatever, it's deep pile: pretty comfy. Comfier than the sidewalk anyway. Or a bathtub.
Oh wow, a bathtub would be awesome. Soapy sexy lesbians.
Yay, he's still drunk.
Despite the playing dead and all, Puck allows himself a little grin, trusting San and Britt to be too tied up in each other to notice (ooh, soapy sexy tied-up lesbians). Vaguely, he wonders if they'll be too tied-up to notice his inevitable boner when the actions starts getting all scream-worthy... But it's right about then he feels someone's hands brush his stomach and shit-- maybe they want him to join in??
Puck can't help it and cracks his eyes open, gathering all his strength to lift his head and focus blearily on whatever's going on at the other end of his torso.
It's not Brit and San.
It's Berry and Hummel, both looking totally shit-faced and wearing way less clothes than those two usually rock up in. Berry's lying on her stomach beside Puck, hair hanging over her face and tickling Puck's skin but not hiding the fact that her shirt's gone missing and she's wearing a bra with woodland animals all over it. Hummel's sitting on Puck's other side, cross-legged in sleep-shorts that are halfway to indecent, wearing the same silky shirt from earlier but with his bowtie hanging undone round his neck, what looks like a top-hat (wtf?), and a glare that could level a tower-block.
Puck winces again, and realises it's Berry's tiny little hands that've been doodling shapes across his abs.
"Ha! I win, I win!" she squeals, pointing smugly at Kurt across Puck's body, losing her balance a bit and steadying herself with a hand dangerously near Puck's crotch. Kurt gigglingly leans across to push at her shoulders:
"Shhh, you freaking cheat," he hisses "you cheat, you cheater, it was my turn--"
"What the fuck--?" Puck tries to push himself up to sitting, but Rachel throws out an arm and claps her hand over his eyes, forcing his head back down to the carpet with a thump.
"No, no, you can't wake up, don't wake up, I'm winning!!" she babbles excitedly against his ear, and Puck does what she says cos well 1) it's Rachel and it's always easier that way, and 2) her boobs are, like, right next to his mouth.
Then he feels fingers on his abs again, drawing ticklish lines, and knows it must be Hummel.
"Dude, what are you doing?" Puck slurs, twisting his head to try and see, Rachel's hand slipping away from his eyes.
"Just playing." Kurt answers in a singsong and Rachel starts giggling again, going back to her place opposite him. "No need to worry Noah," Kurt continues airily: "you're not playing so we won't take anymore of your clothes off."
Puck processes that. "Anymore...?" and then, ok, sure: no shirt. He'd spilled beer on it earlier and taken it off. That's cool.
"What am I not playing?" He slurs, and lifts a hand to his abs, confused when his fingers touch something warm and sticky--
"Stop it, you'll ruin the board!!" Rachel snatches his hand away, doing a pouty face. Hummel cracks up, and reaches unsteadily down to take a swig from a champagne glass sitting on the floor near Puck's feet. "He's the board! He can't ruin it if he's it!" he mutters through his chuckles.
"What are you--?"
"Tic-Tac-Toe!" Kurt interrupts, raising his glass in the air.
"And I'm winning!" Rachel adds, smiling widely and, to Puck's surprise, leans down to kiss his nipple.
Puck gives up and lies flat back down on the floor, briefly closing his eyes.
"Man, you guys got crazy since college..." He mutters.
He doesn't add that he thinks it's kind of awesome.
Puck wakes to the sound of giggling, and instantly thanks the Big Man Upstairs for giving Santana the balls to make up for all those years of denial by being pretty shameless about who else is in the room when she's sexing up her girlfriend.
He lies perfectly still, fuzzily noting that, ok, he passed out on the carpet instead of an actual bed. Whatever, it's deep pile: pretty comfy. Comfier than the sidewalk anyway. Or a bathtub.
Oh wow, a bathtub would be awesome. Soapy sexy lesbians.
Yay, he's still drunk.
Despite the playing dead and all, Puck allows himself a little grin, trusting San and Britt to be too tied up in each other to notice (ooh, soapy sexy tied-up lesbians). Vaguely, he wonders if they'll be too tied-up to notice his inevitable boner when the actions starts getting all scream-worthy... But it's right about then he feels someone's hands brush his stomach and shit-- maybe they want him to join in??
Puck can't help it and cracks his eyes open, gathering all his strength to lift his head and focus blearily on whatever's going on at the other end of his torso.
It's not Brit and San.
It's Berry and Hummel, both looking totally shit-faced and wearing way less clothes than those two usually rock up in. Berry's lying on her stomach beside Puck, hair hanging over her face and tickling Puck's skin but not hiding the fact that her shirt's gone missing and she's wearing a bra with woodland animals all over it. Hummel's sitting on Puck's other side, cross-legged in sleep-shorts that are halfway to indecent, wearing the same silky shirt from earlier but with his bowtie hanging undone round his neck, what looks like a top-hat (wtf?), and a glare that could level a tower-block.
Puck winces again, and realises it's Berry's tiny little hands that've been doodling shapes across his abs.
"Ha! I win, I win!" she squeals, pointing smugly at Kurt across Puck's body, losing her balance a bit and steadying herself with a hand dangerously near Puck's crotch. Kurt gigglingly leans across to push at her shoulders:
"Shhh, you freaking cheat," he hisses "you cheat, you cheater, it was my turn--"
"What the fuck--?" Puck tries to push himself up to sitting, but Rachel throws out an arm and claps her hand over his eyes, forcing his head back down to the carpet with a thump.
"No, no, you can't wake up, don't wake up, I'm winning!!" she babbles excitedly against his ear, and Puck does what she says cos well 1) it's Rachel and it's always easier that way, and 2) her boobs are, like, right next to his mouth.
Then he feels fingers on his abs again, drawing ticklish lines, and knows it must be Hummel.
"Dude, what are you doing?" Puck slurs, twisting his head to try and see, Rachel's hand slipping away from his eyes.
"Just playing." Kurt answers in a singsong and Rachel starts giggling again, going back to her place opposite him. "No need to worry Noah," Kurt continues airily: "you're not playing so we won't take anymore of your clothes off."
Puck processes that. "Anymore...?" and then, ok, sure: no shirt. He'd spilled beer on it earlier and taken it off. That's cool.
"What am I not playing?" He slurs, and lifts a hand to his abs, confused when his fingers touch something warm and sticky--
"Stop it, you'll ruin the board!!" Rachel snatches his hand away, doing a pouty face.
Hummel cracks up, and reaches unsteadily down to take a swig from a champagne glass sitting on the floor near Puck's feet. "He's the board! He can't ruin it if he's it!" he mutters through his chuckles.
"What are you--?"
"Tic-Tac-Toe!" Kurt interrupts, raising his glass in the air.
"And I'm winning!" Rachel adds, smiling widely and, to Puck's surprise, leans down to kiss his nipple.
Puck gives up and lies flat back down on the floor, briefly closing his eyes.
"Man, you guys got crazy since college..." He mutters.
He doesn't add that he thinks it's kind of awesome.
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