Chapter ten

"So you're living here now?" Sam asked, twirling his pen absentmindedly between his index finger and thumb. His homework was spread out in front of him on the Anderson's kitchen table, as it had been any other Thursday night for the past few weeks.

"Yup, until I've figured stuff out with ma, I am," Puck answered, nodding affirmatively. He was sitting across from the blond, a beer next to him which had been granted by Blaine; on condition that he would keep his mouth shut so that Sam could study. Blaine should've known that Noah Puckerman wasn't that easy to bribe.

"Noah, seriously, we made a deal. Stop distracting Samuel," he whined after he had let out an annoyed breath. The side of his head was supported by his arm, which leant on the table.

"You didn't let me promise. Should've been smarter and made me promise, Hobbit," Puck reminded him with a shrug, taking another swig from his drink.

"Noah, that nickname is really starting to-"

"Hey, you can't be upset, Blainers. You lied to me. I mean, wanting to go to New York and not telling me about it? Dude, that's seriously not nice," Sam interrupted his friend, shooting him a disappointing look with his lips sucked into his mouth.

"I was going to tell you, Samuel, I just knew that you were going to try and stop-"

"Blaine, could you shut up?" Puck sounded with a smirk, "the guy has to study."

The youngest one rolled his eyes and surrendered with a groan, allowing his forehead to fall onto his outstretched arm. Puck chuckled, enjoying his small victory with words, and Sam went back to softly nibbling on the end of his pen. He tried to read the words, but even with the room being completely silent, he couldn't really make out what they were saying. His eyes felt heavy, even tingled a little, and he felt tired. It was odd, because he had, like, 10 hours of sleep the night before, so he shouldn't feel that way. But boy, he could use a small nap, close his eyes for just five minutes and focus on his breathing. Relaxing and resting…

"Sam?"

The boy shivered and looked up at the frowning face of Puck.

"Dude, did you just doze off?" he asked, a mocking tone in his voice.

The blond shrugged one shoulder uncomfortably. "Lay off, I'm tired, okay?"

"It's nearly eight o'clock," Puck fired back.

"You could spend the night if you want to?" Blaine offered almost instantaneously, a glimmer of hope flashing in his dark irises.

Puck snorted, "You just want a three way cuddle again."

Blaine defended himself by making a face at Puck, but didn't deny it either.

"I suppose I could?" Sam ignored the oldest one's comment, "then you guys don't have to drop me off again and we can go to school together tomorrow."

Blaine smiled, not knowing how quickly to assent to that statement.

"Let me call my mom," Sam said, before he got up and left the room, already fishing his phone out of his pocket.

The shortest of the three watched him exit and then a questioning look grew on his face when he caught Puck's judgmental gaze.

"You're not getting any," Puck continued nagging him.

"Why did I offer you my home?!" Blaine grumbled, grabbing one of the crumpled up papers Sam had ripped out of his workbook in frustration earlier. Noah ducked and avoided the hit swiftly, choking out another teasing laugh.

"Alright, she's fine with it," Sam announced when he entered the kitchen again.

"Awesome! Now can we please get rid of that homework and order food?" Puck whined, finishing his beer and getting up to grab himself a new one, Blaine not finding himself in the position to comment on it.

"I'm not hungry," the blond said casually, averting his eyes to his homework again.

"Anderson, hand me my phone from the charger. I need the number of the pizza place," Puck demanded, pointing towards the counter behind Blaine.

"Alright," Blaine sighed, "but we can't keep on eating junk food. One of these days, we're going to actually cook a healthy meal."

It was ironic how unaware Blaine was of the accuracy of that comment.

"My phone," was the only thing Puck repeated, tediously.

"Could you maybe stop being an ass for just one-?"

"Yeah, hi, can I get one large pepperoni special with extra cheese…" Puck spoke, putting his hand on the phone, "what do you guys want?"

"A medium Hawaii," Blaine ordered.

"A medium Hawaii," Puck repeated, then shot a questioning look at Sam.

"Nah, I'm good, tha-"

"And another large pepperoni special with extra cheese," Puck spoke, finishing his order, before covering the speaker again, "shut up, you always want pizza."

That's how history repeated itself.

Sam didn't show his frustration, channelling his attention back to his work again. Still, he was definitely upset, because this meant he had to use his two-finger-solution again. He had already eaten a small dinner at home, had figured out exactly how much of his mother's pasta he could have without exceeding his set limit, but the upcoming late night snack would screw it all up. He entangled his fingers in his blond hair, scratching his head vigorously when he felt a lump starting to form in his throat. Why was he getting so emotional over this? Probably because he was tired, but that didn't mean it wasn't annoying.

"Are you okay, Samuel?" Blaine asked before he had exchanged a look with Noah.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam answered automatically, "I just can't figure out this reaction."

As he expected, his friend instantly started helping him out, trying to make him go through the steps of solving the issue piece by piece. Eventually, Sam got there and he gave Blaine a look that showed his gratitude.

Two assignments later, the doorbell rang, and Puck was the first one to get up; hungry as hell.

"Do you need-"

"I've got it," he answered quickly, cutting Blaine off.

He went out to answer the door, and the Anderson turned to Sam. "He hasn't let me pay for anything yet. I think he feels kind of guilty for staying over," he explained.

Sam just nodded, because the room had already filled up with the smell of pizza. His stomach growled, but nausea also bubbled up with that. Puck handed him his and the blond faked a smile. He wasn't looking forward to eating at all, but figured he didn't have a choice, remembering that his friends had already gotten suspicious of him once. Obviously, he didn't want that to happen again.

"God, I love pizza," Puck sighed, his mouth full with half of his first piece. Unfortunately for the other two, a hungry Puckerman wasn't a delightful sight, especially not an eating one.

Blaine snorted audibly, taking cutlery from one of the kitchen's drawers, earning him a weird look from Puck, but the boy didn't care anyway. He didn't like getting his hands dirty…well, not with food, that was.

"Does anybody want something to drink?" he asked after he had eaten his first slice, only looking towards Sam, since Puck was still on his second beer.

"Glass of water is fine," the Evans answered absentmindedly.

"You sure? I've got Coke, too, you know," Blaine offered politely.

"Water, please," Sam held on, remembering how many calories a glass of coke contained.

Again, Puck and Blaine exchanged an unseen look, but the younger one shrugged it off in an indifferent way. He poured the glass from the sink, putting it down in front of Sam, who seemed to be struggling with his food.

It didn't come as a surprise that Puck was the one who finished first, taking another beer from the fridge, knowing better than to ask Blaine beforehand. The answer probably would've been no anyway, given the judgmental look he was receiving from him.

Halfway through his pizza, Sam announced he was full in such a casual way that it wouldn't have drawn any attention. He closed the box, pushing it aside and getting back to his homework. He seemed zealous, but in reality he just wanted to keep himself occupied instead of trying to figure out when he should go to the bathroom. However, he realized he shouldn't take too long, because the food mustn't be digested. After a while – Blaine and Puck had been bickering about some house rules Blaine had set when Noah had moved in, rules that the latter of said boys naturally didn't agree on – Sam chose that his timing was okay.

"Be right back," he said in his most normal voice, getting up from his seat and walking into the living room. In the hallway, he debated if he should use the toilet there, but then figured that he would decrease the chance of his friends hearing him if he went in the bathroom upstairs. So he did.

Once inside, he locked the door, sucking in a deep breath to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do. Even though he had done it a couple of times before, he would never get used to the disgusting feeling of throwing up. He knelt in front of the toilet, hanging over slightly, closing the space between his index and middle finger and opened his mouth. As he expected, he only coughed and heaved the first couple of tries, but after continuously tickling his uvula, it started.

"Samuel?"

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?"

Sam's eyes opened in shock, turning his head slowly towards the two familiar voices. He caught their gazes one by one, not even noticing the screwdriver in on of Puck's clenched fists. His mind soon raced with thoughts and he scrambled himself up onto his feet.

"I started feeling sick downstairs and apparently I had to throw up," he quickly lied, trying to talk himself out of it, "dude, that pizza place isn't-"

"Then why are you fingers covered in spit?" Puck interrogated him.

Sam raised his hand, looking at it with fear as if it wasn't his own, trying to think of something that could save him.

"Samuel…" Blaine softly spoke, taking a step towards him, his hands innocently put in front of him as if he was trying to gain the trust of a dangerous animal, "did you…make yourself…?"

"I…I…" Sam stammered, suddenly not able to come up with any good lies.

"Sam?" Puck asked warningly, slipping the tool into his back pocket so that his friend wouldn't notice.

"I…I felt sick, so…I…" the blond tried again, his heart rapidly beating in his throat as he still tried to think of an excuse.

"Sam."

The boy shivered at the demanding tone of the older one; while in the meantime, Blaine's worried facial expression was just about killing him.

"Guys…I just…"

"For fuck sake, Sam, just fucking admit that you made yourself throw up!" Puck then exploded, his fist meeting the bathroom tiles in a loud thud.

"Noah, calm down," Blaine instantly tried to sooth him, shooting him a look that said that getting angry wasn't going to help either.

"No. I'm not going to calm down. I'm fucking tired of this bullshit," Puck hissed as he stepped forward, grabbing Sam by his shirt.

"Noah!"

"Admit it, you asshole. I'm fucking sick of your lying," Puck continued, right into Sam's scared face, "I felt like a jerk for thinking that I had noticed it the other day, but you had done it then, too, hadn't you? When we were at your place and had pizza. When I heard you and even fucking asked you if you were doing okay, you decided to fucking lie to my face."

"I…I…" Sam stammered, the green of his eyes starting to blur thanks to the tears they were filling up with.

Blaine tugged on one of Puck's arms, trying to make him let go. "Noah, please, this isn't the right way…" he, apparently successfully convinced him, because Puck loosened his grip.

The fist that had been clenching Sam's shirt slowly relaxed and Puck noticed that the blond's bottom lip was trembling.

"Sorry," the Puckerman grumbled, now letting go of his friend and taking a step back.

A short silence fell in between them, where in the boys all took in the situation they had found themselves in, Blaine being the first to speak up.

"Why?" was the only question that slipped past his lips, giving Sam an empathizing, but not understanding look.

"I…"

"Your body is amazing, Sam, why are you doing this to yourself?" Blaine continued.

"Yeah, dude, you're ripped. Why lose weight?" Puck bluntly added up.

That's when Sam realized that, even though his friends had found out about his secret, they clearly didn't have a clue about what was really going on with him. This offered the blond possibilities and even a way out.

"I just wanted to lose that last bit of baby fat," Sam heard himself starting to explain, "I tried working out more, but that didn't help, so then I figured I should try something else. I read about…this…somewhere on the internet and people said it helped, so…I tried."

Ironically, Sam was now using his naïve nature to his advantage, knowing that was also the way people would describe him, but that made all of his obliviousness fade; realizing that one's naïve takes it away.

"But it doesn't," Blaine replied sympathetically, "it makes you think that it does, but in reality it slowly destroys you. The way you see yourself changes, Samuel."

Sam sucked his lips inwards awkwardly, examining his shoes, which all of sudden seemed a lot more interesting.

"Anderson's right, dude," Puck backed up, "all those anorexic people just end up like fucking skeletons and they still think they're fat."

The blond shrugged in a barely visible way, embarrassment taking over his consciousness. His knees were shaking, because of the throwing up. It was Blaine who suddenly noticed his friend's weak state, putting his hand on his back and softly rubbing it.

"Are you okay?" he asked, "You look like you need to lie down."

"Just tired," Sam answered, the beginnings of a gentle smile pulling on the corners of his lips, "but yeah, that isn't a bad idea, I guess."

Puck walked out of the bathroom first, needing a split moment to settle down his thoughts. Damn, even though he had suspected it once, facing the truism of it was hard.

Sam washed his hands and rinsed his mouth, getting rid of the bad taste in it, Blaine all the while staying next to him to make sure he was okay.

Once inside Blaine's bedroom, the blond crawled onto his king sized bed. "Sorry, guys, I'm exhausted," he let them know, lying down and closing his eyes. Never had he liked acting so helpless and sad, but in that moment he couldn't care less. He felt drained, tired and since his friends had found out what he had been doing; he didn't have any reason to put up an act.

The other two settled down next to him, each covering a side. Blaine was going to let Sam be, but as for Puck…ever since the shit he had been going through revolving around his father, he had started to develop a thing for answers.

"For how long has this been going on?" he therefore asked.

"That time you heard me…was the first time I had done it," Sam admitted softly, shifting onto his side and folding his hands under his pillow, facing away from the oldest one of their little group.

"I just don't get it, dude," Puck continued to voice his disbelief; "you've got an amazing body. Hell, it's even better than mine. How can you not see that?"

Sam chewed on his bottom lip before answering, "I guess I just see it differently…"

Puck nodded quietly, trying to wrap his mind around Sam's words, which still proved to fall hard on him. Soon, the blond's breathing relaxed and it was clear to Blaine and Noah that their friend had taken off to dreamland. Just every once in a while, his body would shiver, for it was channelling the last bits of energy to things that were more important than managing his warmth.

Puck had been lying on his back and turned his head to examine his friend, then realized he was cold. The sheets of the bed were swamped under three bodies, so Puck figured he should come up with something else to keep his friend warm. He shifted on his side, scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Sam's chest, his other arm supporting his own head so that he could look over him. Meanwhile, Blaine had watched the cuddling happening and he couldn't help but give Puck a judging frown, because his friend had made comments to him on the same subject earlier.

"Shut up. It's not the same," Puck already warned him, causing Blaine to chuckle a little.

"I'm not saying anything," he replied cheekily, scooting closer towards Sam himself. "So…you were right," he then spoke softly, his hand pushing the blond strands of hair out of Sam's closed eyes.

"Hey, I had changed my mind about it too, y'know. It's just…when I picked him up the other day, he looked so fucking bad. His skin's like that of a zombie's and have you seen his eyes?" Puck explained, "And when I mentioned something about secrets, I just knew. He looked like a deer caught in headlights."

Blaine nodded, "I can't believe I haven't noticed it earlier. I see him five times a week."

"Which also explains why you haven't," Puck responded.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, isn't it that, like, it's harder to see long-term change when you're faced with it every day?" the mohawked man explained.

Blaine's face lit up a little. "That's true," he admitted, proud of his friend's wise words.

"Anyway," Puck said, "thanks for helping me trick him. I would never have busted his ass doing the deed without you."

Author's note: Thank you for the lovely reviews! It's nice to know that people are still interested in this story. As for the update speed; I've been writing for a couple of years now and unfortunately I've to admit that I'm just one of those writers that updates regularly for a certain amount of time, but then finds himself in a block. I'm sorry if any of you guys have to dig into your memory to remind yourself what this story's all about, I genuinely feel bad about that, because I know the feeling. Still, thank you for keeping up with it and for reviewing! It means so much to me to see that people actually appreciate the time I'm putting in this.

Also, a shout out to my wonderful boyfriend, who has been beta reading for me!