queerasglee | "Because I got high."

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"Because I got high."

Who: Blaine Anderson and Noah Puckerman
What: That hilarious moment where Puck wants to see Blaine high
Where: Blaine's bedroom, Pittsburgh
When: Post the failed benefit concert in Glee 2x17

Blaine was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed wearing a neon pink feather boa and a pair of Superman boxers on his head. He had no shirt on and was wearing his Buzz Lightyear pyjamas as he took another drag from the joint Puck passed him, and then immediately broke into another giggling fit. He was laughing so hard he was snorting and leaned forward to rest his forehead on the top of his bed. "Doesn't even matter! I'm gonna get a magic carpet like Laldaddin and FLY all the way to Kurt and tell him I love him!" he declared, flipping his head back up with another snort of laughter. "And it's gonna be PINK! I LOVE PINK!"

His hand dove into the large bowl of candy sitting beside him and he stuffed the whole handful into his mouth. Puck had just confiscated his cell phone after realising Blaine was stone-texting Kurt. So far, Kurt had responded. But now, Blaine was planning alternative methods of communication after deciding carrier pigeons wouldn't work in case the bird crapped on Kurt's beautiful clothes. Blaine didn't want to die, so he couldn't risk that. Puck had come over after chatting online to Blaine and listening to Blaine colourfully and passionately abuse Karofsky, and telling Puck how much he didn't need Santana Lopez fighting his battles because he was a fighter himself. It was the first hint Puck got of Blaine's concealed past. Blaine was a boxer, though when Puck tried get more details, all he got in response was "I'M HOTTER THAN ROCKY!"

But yes, Puck wanted to see Blaine high and what better time to slip him a little weed when Blaine was peeved about Santana and Karofksy? Blaine's dad wasn't home, instead being out somewhere with his friends, so this was a perfect time.

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The mental image of Blaine on a pink magic carpet flying to Kurt had to be the funniest thing Puck had ever experienced in his life. He could picture it rather vividly in his stoned state, and he was at the level of cackling. "Dude! No! You can't go see Kurt right now... 'cause he'll know I gave th'weed to you, and he'll scalp me and find a way to... Like... Make my 'hawk into some kind of fashion accessory, and I can't work the scalped look. No, no, you definitely can't see Kurt until after you're not high anymore." He snorted with laughter. "Dude! You're so high!" Puck accused jokingly, pointing at Blaine with the joint he'd just taken from him, before taking a long hit himself.

If there was one thing that Puck didn't want, it was for Kurt to get wind of this and have Puck's family jewels floating in a jar of embalming fluid on his desk or something. And he'd do anything to keep this particular bromance moment on the downlow as far as Kurt was concerned. "Dude, seriously! Tell me when you started boxing! You're fucking... Not boxer sized!"

Flopping back in the chair with his feet sprawled out in front of him, Puck just broke into another laughing fit. "Dude... You're my favorite weed smoking buddy ever now!"

"So are YOU!" Blaine declared with a passionate point at Puck and then exploded into another fit of laughter. He leaned in close to study Puck's mohawk closely, like he was studying a fine plant or something and then pressed his lips together with a smack and an emphatic shake of his head. "Nope! Dude! I'm a gay dude and even I know that's never, ever gonna pass no fashion asscesorry of Kurt's. It doesn't even match the rest of your head!" Then there was a point to himself. "I told him! I told him I rolled a joint and it was totally awesome! Doesn't even matter if some of it fell out the end! I just... picked it right back up and shoved it back up the butt! Up that butt! Ahhhhh haha!"

He picked up some more candy and this time spilled some of it into his lap, which he, of course, started to pick collect intently but it was really a hard task to commute to his brain at the moment. His inhibitions were well and truly down so he didn't pause to think he should keep his mouth shut this time. "I so am boxer sized, bitch! I'm an awesome boxer! I even started Fight Club and I run it and everything! Been 'bout a year now. My doctor told me I should be careful of any more head injuries, but that's why I learned. So no one else could hit me in the head! FOUND IT!" he said with a huge grin as he dug a red Gummi Bear out of his lap and ate it.

"I wanna dance! Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaance!" He pushed himself up off the bed, candy flying everywhere. "OH, WHAT A FEELING! WHEN YOU'RE DANCING ON THE CEILING! Dude, imagine dancing on the ceiling!" he cried and went over to his stereo to put on whatever CD he picked up first.

"I'm not as high as you are!" Puck sang in a tune he totally made up right there on the spot. "Dude... It's 'cause you're so little... It only takes a LITTLE weed 'cause you're a LITTLE dude!" The mohawked boy scoffed in mock indignation as he rubbed his mohawk, speaking to the hairstyle. "He didn't mean it, baby... He loves you." Pausing, he glanced back at Blaine, having yet another fit of laughter. "DUDE, you said asscesorry! ASSSSSSSSS! ASS AND BUTT! DUDE!" Puck was right on the verge of howling with laughter at this point, because seriously? EVERYTHING was fucking funny!

Blaine spilling candy into his lap only added to Puck's level of amusement. "Dude, you just ate a gummi bear outta your crotch! It's like... A dick bear! A gummi dick? DUDE, that would suck. If you had a gummi dick." Pausing, he tilted his head, somewhat confused by what Blaine was getting at. "You started Fight Club and you didn't invite me?! What? What kind of head injuries? You got head injuries before? Did you drop something on your head, dude?"

"Dude!" Puck said, clumsily trying to get to the stereo before Blaine. "No Hanson, dude. No Hanson, okay?"

Blaine shook his head, which was immediately spinning and he fell off to the side but managed to right himself before he fell. "I'm not high all that much really... maybe only just a little wee bit. Wee! Haaaaaaaaaa! That's a funny word! That's the funniest word, like, ever!" There was only a slight pause when his face lit up, getting the best idea he had ever had. "I'm gonna call Kurt! I'm gonna call Kurt and I'll tell him I love him! 'Cause I do! I think! I mean, I dunno really yet, 'cause it's not like I've ever really..."

He trailed off, looking confused for a moment and puffing out his cheeks with a breath that was soon heavily exhaled. "What was I talking 'bout again? Oh yeah, wee! It's like pee, only without a P! A pee without a P!" This was hilarious, clearly, and he folded over with a snort of laughter to the point he was actually dribbling a moment later when he couldn't contain himself. "I think I really gotta pee now!" he announced with a wet giggle.

"HANSON!" he declared, as if it was the best idea ever in the world and the universe, even. His hand was messily flicking through his CD collection, and for someone that was high (for the first time in his life, with the weed clearly going right to his head), he was extremely succinct in finding the CD he wanted. He came up trumps with his well-worn Hanson CD from years ago and it was being unceremoniously slotted into his player. MMMBop was soon blasting through his room and Blaine broke into another wave of snorting giggles, falling back onto his bed when he tried to dance and just tripped over his own feet.

Edited 2012-08-29 16:36 (UTC)

Puck had firmly decided that Blaine was much more high than he was, it was just as simple as that. "Dude!" he exclaimed, laughing so hard he was snorting. "You can't tell him you love him when you're high! He won't believe you! He'll think you're... high!" This was absolutely flawless reasoning in Puck's mind, and he nodded to show just how much he believed said reasoning. "You gotta tell him that when it's all romantic and shit, B! Seriously! You gotta be smooth about it!" Not that Puck could really say all that much about being in love. He was relatively sure he had been once, but it kind of didn't work out, so he wasn't saying anything at all about it.

Blaine just kept bringing gigglefits out of Puck to the point that he couldn't stop them, and he gave Blaine a half-grin/half-glare as he tried to catch his breath. "Fuck, Blainers, I'm gonna fuckin' die from laughing too much! That's a stupid way to die... I'm too young to die! Dude, totally too young for that, right?"Pausing just a moment, Puck glanced over at Blaine contemplatively. "Then maybe..." he hinted. "Just maybe you should go pee!" Well, duh, right? Anyone who needed to pee should probably pee. "'Cause what if you peed yourself? That would suck so bad."

"NO!!!!!" Puck exclaimed, trying to come between Blaine's Hanson CD and the CD player. "No, dude!" he repeated, shaking his head. For Puck, playing a Hanson CD was a threat worse than death, and only slightly less horrible than ball torture. "Noooooo!" he exclaimed even louder, before diving for Blaine's bed and covering his head with the pillow before the rest of his body caught up to the fact that he'd almost totally missed the bed, and he slid into the floor unceremoniously in a large heap. "OUCH!"

"My head... my head really hurts," Blaine declared and then immediately thought it was the most hilarious thing ever with another string of giggles, even if he was nursing his temple with the palm of his hand. "I have, like... like the biggest fucked up head ever. S'probably why I'm so stupid!" he said though a snort of laughter. It made sense to him, because he really did have a fucked head, which was okay, because at least he was alive but he didn't like when it started to hurt and he had no idea why laughing so much was a good idea now, which was also extremely funny.

He patted over his pockets, looking for his phone, which he totally forgot Puck had taken off him after leaving Kurt voicemails earlier on. "I should! I should tell him! Because when you think of something in your head, you just gotta say it before you forget it. That's what the nurses always said. To just say, even if it didn't sound like your mouth was working." He said with a nod, but his head just gave a spin of protest at the movement. He was still lying on his back on his bead and watching as the ceiling looked like it was swimming. "Haaaaaaaaaaaa, it looks'like butterflies! BLUTTERFIES!" he giggled, trying to catch the non-existent bugs with his hand which just turned out to be spots in his own vision.

"I have t'pee. I can't pee on my bed," was the next thought as he went cross-eyed still trying to catch the butterflies and his head gave another sore throb. "I did pee on my bed once when Coop scared me. He jump outta the closet in a Barney mask and Barney used to give me nightmares," he said with a giggle-snort. "I peed so bad!"

"We gotta fix your head!" Puck announced, walking over to Blaine and peering into the mess of curls on his friend's head as if he were going to find a button or switch to just turn the headache off. But as it was, he saw nothing of the sort and gave a shake of his head. "I dunno how to fix it, dude! I'm not a doctor! What if I was though? I could be Doctor Puck! Dude, I'd wanna be a boob doctor, though... What's a boob doctor called? A boobologist?" That, of course, was beyond funny, and he was once again in a giggle fit.

"What nurses?!" Puck asked, still thoroughly confused. "Were they hot nurses? Were they like... Porno nurses? Dude, I love porno nurses." And he did. He was about to show Blaine a porno nurse video on his phone when he remembered that Blaine didn't like girls, and he shook his head. "I keep forgettin' ya don't like tits!" he said, shaking his head a little too hard before he got woozy. "Butterfries!" Puck announced, his own contribution to the conversation at hand. "Flutterbies are really... Why they call 'em butterflies anyway? they don't look like butter."

Puck laughed even louder at that. "Dude! Dude! Next time Coop's being a dicknugget, you should tell him that you're gonna tell people he used to dress up as Barney! Dicknugget. DICKNUGGET! That's the best insult ever. I like... I created the best insult ever... I should get a gold star or something..." Peed so bad had officially just become the funniest thing Puck had ever heard, and he sat on the floor, howling with laughter.

Blaine puffed his cheeks out as continued to just lie there. There was no way he would be able to coordinate himself to sit up, let alone move. By now, the weed had completely gone to his head, and it had happened extremely fast. It was the first time he had ever had weed and gotten high. If his dad came home right now, Blaine would probably find the whole thing hilarious, but his dad would probably freak and do that thing where he gets all squeaky when he yells, which would also be hilarious to Blaine if it happened. It would only lead to one big mess, and Blaine wasn't completely convinced he wouldn't spew all over the place if he moved too much right now. His head was spinning epically and he had little flashy lights in his peripheral vision. Plus, his nose was running and he really felt like tacos. "Dude, I don't like boobs... not even one boob. Isn't a boobologist the dude who cuts your boobs off when you wanna be a dude? Does that mean the dude who gives you a dick if you're a girl and wanna be a dude a dickologist? Or cockologist? Pahahahahahahahahahaha! Cockologist!"

He gave a shrug of his shoulder. "I dunno, dude. I could hardly see when I woke up. It was all blurry and shit. Plus, if someone's wiping your butt for you? You kinda don't want 'em to be hot, y'know? I mean, it's your butt. And I don't like chicks. Dude. I don't like chicks, you gotta remember that, k? I like Kurt, and I don't want Kurt wiping my butt. He can touch it, but no wiping it because that's really not sexy and I want him to think I'm sexy!"

"I like dicks," was Blaine's matter-of-fact response to that. It was like gospel in his mind. "I can't wait to see Kurt's dick. I bet it's so cool. Not even like a dicknugget. Kurt wouldn't having a dicknugget. Or be one. He's, like, the most amazing person ever. I kissed him. I kiss him and oh my god, it was so awesome. I didn't even wet myself that time."

"One boob would look weird," Puck reasoned, holding up a finger in a very philosophical pose (or at least so he thought). He needed to get up out of the floor, but it was such a nice floor. "No... the boobologist is the one who makes sure that your boobs are... boobtacular or whatever... I mean... Not your boobs... You don't have boobs! BOOOOOOBS! Boobs are great, though, dude. I mean, you don't gotta like 'em, because you're the coolest dude ever, even if you don't like boobs. But I love boobs. I wanna like... collect boobs. Only not like that creepy dude who collected people's eyes in that movie I tried to make you watch before you barfed... COCKOLOGIST! Dude... I thought that was the dude who collected the sperm when they make dudes jizz in a cup to have babies and shit." That made perfect sense, though. "But dude, why would a cockologist give you a cock, if a boobologist cut off your boobs?"

"Why couldn't you see?" he asked, his brain trying to remember exactly why Blaine had been in the hospital in the first place. Had Blaine already told him? No... He would've remembered that, right? "You can see now! You didn't go blind like that chick from Little House on the Prairie! You can see... I know. I know you don't like chicks. You like dudes and Kurt's a dude... Only sometimes he acts like a chick, but he's a dude. A dude and you like him... A bunch! I think he already thinks you're sexy..." He paused for only a moment before bursting into song, "IFFFF you like my body ANDDDDDDDDDDDDD you think I'm sexy... Fuck, how's it go?"

"Yeah. I know... I only like my own dick, but that's okay... I like Kurt, though. He's cool... I wish you and him could be boyfriends forever... Or... Dude, what if you could get married?! You should get married... And then you could like... Adopt babies and be gay dads like Rachel has... Only you're not black or Jewish. But that's okay! You don't have to be! You can still have gay dad powers and stuff... Powers? Do gay dads have powers? Dude, if you wet yourself while kissing Kurt, that would be really really fail."

Blaine just shrugged again. "Dude, I dunno anything about boobs ever. But I do know some chick would look way weird if she had more than too, so why would anyone wanna collect 'em? That would be, like, a dude having eight dicks."

"'cause I had, like... this huge brain injury. It was totally bad shit and everything. They said I shoulda died, but I didn't. I showed those fuckers and I lived right when they didn't want me to," he declared with a dismissive snort and a flick of his fingers like he was batting away an imaginary annoying bug. "I dunno if I should even be smoking weed with my pills, but sucked in, I am!" he laughed, another snort punctuating the comment when his vision swam a little, blurring the flickery lights even if he was lying down. Puck was signing then, but Blaine was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on his surroundings.

"Dude... my dads were gay. Fuck Rachel, my dads were just as gay as hers! I wasn't even, like adopted and shit either. I mean, my two dads didn't make me or nothing, but one of 'em did. And my mom. My mom is way cool, but she doesn't live here. She lives somewhere else. But my gays dads were awesome. 'least, they were until one died. He died of HIV and everyone thinks being gay means you have that, but it's not even true. I don't have it, and my dad doesn't have it. He thought if I was gay, I would get it, tough. That's fucked up, hey? My own dad thought I was gonna get HIV 'caused I like dick. And you know what? I dunno if I do even like dick. Like, dick dick. I like looking at dick, but I only ever seen, like, pictures... and porn, 'cause my dick is the only dick I've really seen for real. But I wanna see Kurt's one day. I should ask to see his dick!" he cried, as if it was the best idea in the whole world. He tried to sit up, but his head spun violently and he nearly threw up on the spot, so he put his hands over his eyes. "Wh-oa... feel sick..."

"Well, no, dude... I don't wanna collect boobs and put 'em all on one chick! Dontcha see?! I want all the chicks ever with all the boobs ever and just... Lotsa boobs. But 's okay you don't like 'em. I like 'em enough for the both of us." Although he couldn't help the laughter at the thought of a chick with a bunch of boobs.

"What fuckers?!" Puck asked, suddenly indignant... right before Blaine's sassy gay stoner side shone through and Puck lost control in another giggle. "Some fuckers wanted you to die? Fuck them! You can't die 'cause you're fucking Blaine fucking Anderson, dude! But you seem normal... I mean, besides the whole dancing in a blazer thing, but hey, it landed you a dude and some awesome bros, so I guess it's okay... So they must've not fucked your whole brain up forever."

"Yeah, yeah, I know! I know you had two dads, only you only have one now, and that sucks... Why does your dad think likin' dick's gonna give you HIV? He likes dick! He even liked your other dad's dick that had HIV and he doesn't have it! It's dumb, because gay dudes can't even donate blood! I know, 'cause my mom's a nurse, and she said it one time... That it was stupid that gay guys couldn't donate blood. And I didn't even know they couldn't. That's just dumb." Pausing, he tilted his head to look at Blaine. "You can't ask to see Kurt's dick yet, dude! Kurt would bitchslap you for doing it while you were high anyway. He's all about romantic... stuff... You know? Flowers and candy and nice shit. "Dude! Don't get sick. That's not cool... Your dad's gonna kill me already 'cause I gaved you... gave you weed. WEEEEED! But... Do you like it? I mean weed? Even if you wanna barf now, 'cause sometimes people do!"

The whole boob concept was entirely lost on Blaine. He never much thought about them, never really wondered about them, let alone feel like he wanted to bother with them enough to collect them. He gave a slight shrug. "Dunno. Don't even really not like 'em, just don't really care much about 'em. They're just boobs. I like girls, but I don't wanna touch their boobs ever. Or even, like, look at 'em." There was no doubt about it that Blaine really was 100% gay. There wasn't an attraction to females at all, and even when he was trying to be bi with Rachel in a last-ditch attempt to make his dad happy, there hadn't been any physical interest. Just agreeing to a date because she asked him. There was no thinking of her body or her boobs, just a lot of wishing he was out with Kurt instead and a little perving on the lead actor's butt in the show they saw together.

The conversation too a sobering turn for Blaine and the sass was gone in favour of him just going cross-eyed as he looked up at the ceiling and tried to focus on it. "Why wouldn't I be normal?" he eventually asked, not sure what Puck meant by that part of his comment. "You mean my head? 'Cause they smashed it in? Dunno. Happened over a year ago now. Got better and shit..." Mostly. He did still have the scars and emotional baggage of it all. Plus migraines that were a bitch when they hit.

He also had no idea why Puck was talking about blood. "Not giving blood ever anyway. Like, ever. I hate blood. Blood makes me puke. So do needles. Hate blood and needles. Don't want anyone sticking needles in me to take blood either. That's, like, the worst shit ever right there and I don't even care about the fucking gay with that. Just... no. Fuck off with needles and blood. I want dicks. Dicks, dicks, dicks! Dicks all the time, no needles! Just dicks. And balls. Balls are cool. I like my balls, but never touched any other balls. Do all balls feel the same? I don't even know..." His head was spinning and he had no idea what was even honestly coming out of his mouth except the fact words did still keep coming out. Like that time he farted in class accidentally when he didn't mean to and then got teased for it. Like everyone didn't fart. "Everyone farts, you know. Sick... I feel sick, head hurts like loads... spinnin'..."

While Puck didn't understand the concept of not liking boobs, he completely accepted it in Blaine. Until recent years, he'd always been kind of a jerk to the gay kids at school, or gay kid more precisely, because it wasn't exactly like there were many of them living it up out and proud in Lima, Ohio. Just Kurt, and Puck had been a prized dick to him over the years. Until meeting Blaine and falling in bromantic love with him had changed all of that. The pair of them were the most opposite people ever, but somehow, it all worked. It was pretty much the ultimate in chalk and cheese. "Dude... You can have all the gay awesome in the world, and I'll take all the boobs, and then we'll rock everything between the two of us." That made absolutely perfect sense in Puck's mind, and he was quite proud of himself for the idea.

Blaine's question caught Puck off guard, completely having forgotten why they were talking about whether or not Blaine was normal. He glanced over at his friend in puzzlement until Blaine remembered that they were talking about his head, and went on to remind Puck of that fact as well. "Yeah... I'm glad it got better. Because it's a pretty normal looking head now... Is that why you have to wear gel in your hair? Cuz... Yeah... No, that's dumb. It's not really a gel helmet or you wouldn't be able to wash your hair." Still, the idea of someone hurting Blaine made even a high Puck angry. "I woulda beat their asses for you, dude," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"But it's nice to give blood," Puck pointed out with a solemn nod. "Because, like... some people need it and shit. Like when they get hurt in accidents and stuff." Pausing, Puck tried to reason that one out in his mind, and it just wasn't working. "What's dicks got to do with blood? Because I don't want my dick to blood... bleed. I don't want it to bleed." He shrugged broad shoulders as he looked over at Blaine with a major look of confusion. "I don't know. I figure they all feel like balls... Just some are bigger and some are smaller. I got balls, but I only ever touched my own. How would I know if they all feel the same?" Puck had to snicker at that, and suddenly took off on a farting parody of REM: "Everybody faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarts sometiiiiiiiiiiimes!" He grinned broadly, quite satisfied with himself when Blaine suddenly announced that he felt sick. "Dude, do you wanna go to the bathroom so you can puke... Or like... TRASHCAN! You got a trashcan right here." And with that, Puck lifted said trashcan from the floor by the bed. "Right here! Dude, this ain't the trashcan where you through your jerk tissues is it?"

Blaine didn't know if he wanted to be sick or maybe even pass out. He just knew the room was really, really spinning all of a sudden and he was trying to lie as still as he could through it, hoping it would stop really soon. He kept his hand nursed over one side of his forehead, honestly believing it might fall off because it felt like it was going to. Was his head actually spinning? Maybe it was like The Exorcist? "I don't know if I like weed so much..." he decided. "I think I even like it less than I like boobs. Plus? I don't really want all the gay awesome. I just want Kurt's gay awesome. He's the best gay awesome, that's all I want... dude, is my head spinnin'? It feels like it's all, like, spinnin'..."

He stayed silent at all the comments about his head or even his hair then. He didn't know if Puck was meaning to be a jerk about his hair, but it did kind of hurt to hear he thought it looked like a helmet, and he suddenly didn't want to talk about any of that anymore. It always hurt and Puck didn't seem to understand what Blaine was saying. Maybe he just thought it was like a fight in a school hall or something? Who knew. All Blaine knew was that he didn't want to talk about it now. So he didn't.

Instead, he just focused on trying not to throw up all over himself. Puck was asking questions Blaine didn't know the answers to anyway. The blood thing had something to do with HIV, he knew that. He probably should know more considering his other dad died of it, but he didn't know all the technicalities. He hadn't had sex with anyone, so he didn't have diseases, but he was gay and still not allowed to give blood. But he wouldn't want to, because he really did hate it. "Dunno. Just glad some people did so I didn't have to die and stuff. Dyin' woulda been worse than a bleedin' dick. I can't move, 'cause my head is gonna fall off." But then he frowned a little. "Where else am I gonna throw them?"

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"Because I got high."

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