Noah leaves Sam on the sofa, grouchy and whiny; keys in hand, he walks out the door and to the truck, swinging one guitar case over his shoulder, and carefully lifting the other in his hand. He makes several trips in this fashion, heaping their things on the bench seat near the door. When the truck bed is empty, he resets the alarm and begins the irritating task of carrying their things, one by one, inside the house and setting them in the kitchen [the room just inside the door]. When he glances up after bringing a practice amp inside and setting it on the floor, Sam is standing shakily before him, wearing only boxers and socks.
He'd laugh if it was any other time, any other situation.
Sam makes his way to the bathroom, demanding that Puck join him for a shower and then for sleeping; he locks the doors, replacing the keys on the counter where they go, and pulls out his phone to text Quinn. [Jeans and Sam's shirt are dropped haphazardly on the living room floor, and he kicks them in a pile by the couch as he hears the water in the bathroom start and quickly stop.
Picture Message To: quinn fabray From: noah puckerman
[img 74]
q - sam's a mess. gonna stay here tonight. tomorrow? anything you want. i'm sorry, babe. and pissed. i love you
Sam is a mess; he clearly has gotten his head wet and done nothing else, and he gets the couch soaking wet, and he really shouldn't care because the couch sucks but he cares because he's sober and really fucking irritated. "I'm fuckin' staying here," he growls, "taking care of your drunk ass. The fuck, seriously. Get your ass in the shower." He stands then, quietly seething - now he has to deal with Sam and an irritated HBIC Quinn - and heads for the bathroom, stripping off his clothes on the way. He yanks the shower knob as soon as he steps into the shower, the hot water cascading down over him as he bites back a yell and twists the knob to a more comfortable level, the temperature lukewarm rather than scalding.
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He'd laugh if it was any other time, any other situation.
Sam makes his way to the bathroom, demanding that Puck join him for a shower and then for sleeping; he locks the doors, replacing the keys on the counter where they go, and pulls out his phone to text Quinn. [Jeans and Sam's shirt are dropped haphazardly on the living room floor, and he kicks them in a pile by the couch as he hears the water in the bathroom start and quickly stop.
Picture Message
To: quinn fabray
From: noah puckerman
[img 74]
q - sam's a mess. gonna stay here tonight. tomorrow? anything you want. i'm sorry, babe. and pissed. i love you
Sam is a mess; he clearly has gotten his head wet and done nothing else, and he gets the couch soaking wet, and he really shouldn't care because the couch sucks but he cares because he's sober and really fucking irritated. "I'm fuckin' staying here," he growls, "taking care of your drunk ass. The fuck, seriously. Get your ass in the shower." He stands then, quietly seething - now he has to deal with Sam and an irritated HBIC Quinn - and heads for the bathroom, stripping off his clothes on the way. He yanks the shower knob as soon as he steps into the shower, the hot water cascading down over him as he bites back a yell and twists the knob to a more comfortable level, the temperature lukewarm rather than scalding.