lormenari

"No. Leave me alone. I hate you," Sam mumbles tearfully. He lasts all of two seconds before he sits up slowly, drying his face with the corner of his towel. He's totally pouting and he doesn't care. He feels like shit as he crawls out of bed, keeping the towel around his shoulders with one hand and lightly grasping at Puck's hand with the other, walking unsteadily to his room. "I don't want you to stay if you're mad at me. I ruined your night with Quinn, I know. I'm sorry." He's not really. "I can stay in my room. You can call Quinn and make it up to her. I'll be fine." He pauses, then leans against him, a little disgruntled that Puck has clothes on now, but he hugs him softly, his wet hair falling against Puck's shoulder. "I feel shitty. I'm dying. Please don't leave a dying man. I was kidding. Don't call Quinn. Just let me sleep on you." Sam hiccups and sticks his hand down the front of Puck's boxers, wiggling his fingers as he pushes them against the fabric to make a tent. "Look, you're hard."