Being the designated driver sucks. Finn’s always had the idea in his head that designated driver was like a taxi service, but the reality is that it’s more like being an unpaid babysitter. By the third time Finn has to scrape a very drunk and very pink-smelling Rachel Berry off his leg, he’s pretty much done with the whole business.
“Anybody ready for a lift home?” Finn calls out. Nobody responds, except Brittany, who throws her shirt at him, accompanied by some loud hooting and cheering.
“Guess that’s a no,” he sighs, plucking the shirt off his head and dropping it on the floor. He can’t even sit on the sofa, because it’s currently occupied by Puck, Lauren, and Quinn. Lauren and Quinn really seem to be lighting into Puck about something, too. Kurt is leaning miserably against the edge of the stage, watching Blaine perform a drunk-and-off-key version of P!nk’s ‘Get the Party Started’.
After another round of Redirect Drunk Rachel, though, Finn finally just flat out tells her that what she’s doing isn’t cool. For some reason, she seems to think the appropriate response to that is Spin the Bottle, so Finn ends up sitting in a circle on the floor with everybody else, most of them drunk and laughing. Spin the Bottle is more fun than he thought it would be, even though he’s not drinking, and the drunker everyone gets, the hotter the kisses get. Everyone ends up sprawled all over each other, not even in girlfriend/boyfriend-only arrangements, and Finn could swear at one point that Puck was either licking or nibbling Mike's earlobe.
Rachel and Blaine’s kiss devolves into more drunken karaoke, with Kurt watching forlornly and some of the couples making out. Lauren and Quinn yell at Puck some more, then pass out together on the sofa, and Puck stumbles off somewhere. Finn looks at his watch; it’s close to two in the morning, and he’d really like to get himself, Kurt, Blaine, and Artie back to their respective homes.
“Five minutes,” Finn calls out to Kurt, pointing at his watch. Kurt shakes his head violently.
“I need to stay a little longer!” he shouts back.
“Fifteen minutes,” Finn says, huffing to himself as he steps over Santana and Sam, who are practically dry-humping on the floor, and Mike, who is face-planted and snoring on the rug, to get to the bathroom. He opens the bathroom door and steps inside, feeling for the light as he pulls the door closed behind him.
Someone grabs him before he can turn on the light, though, and a second later, a drunk-sounding Puck says, “Knew you wanted to fool around, Mike. Leave the light off.” Puck’s hands are on Finn’s upper arms, and even though the light is off and it’s night, Puck does a pretty good job of steering Finn until the back of his legs hit the edge of the toilet.
Puck’s hands move then, grabbing Finn’s jeans and unzipping them before Finn gets out a “What—”
“Shhh,” Puck says, even though he’s not really all that quiet as he says it. He reaches under Finn’s boxers, pushing them down just far enough to have Finn’s dick hanging out, and then he pushes down on Finn’s shoulder with one hand. “Sit,” he adds.
For reasons Finn himself can’t fathom in that moment, he sits down obediently, his bare ass on the cold top of the closed toilet lid. Puck strokes Finn’s dick lazily and laughs after ten or fifteen seconds pass and Finn starts to get hard, despite his conscious choice not to.
“Alcohol doesn’t affect everybody, huh?” Puck says, and his voice gets farther away as he talks. Just a second or two after that, Puck takes his hand off of Finn’s dick and puts his mouth on it instead. Puck’s lips slide down Finn’s dick, his tongue is moving on it, and he shoves his hand into Finn’s boxers again, this time grabbing Finn’s balls and squeezing them gently.
Finn moans, trying to stand up, but not accomplishing it. He knows he should tell Puck he’s not Mike. He knows this is wrong, from like every angle, but Puck takes Finn deep into his mouth, his hand still on Finn’s balls, and just a few seconds later, his hand reaches up under Finn’s shirt, running over his chest as he sucks at Finn’s dick. Finn brings his hands up to push Puck away, but instead, he puts his hands on the back of Puck’s head, his fingertips pushing into Puck’s mohawk.
That seems to encourage Puck, because he moves faster and instead of just moving his hand over Finn’s chest, he finds one of Finn’s nipples and concentrates on it, rubbing it with his thumb for a few moments before lightly pinching it, and he does the same thing to Finn’s other nipple after that, still sucking Finn’s dick and playing with Finn’s balls.
“Oh shit,” Finn whispers softly. “Oh shit, Puck.”
Puck works his thumb over Finn’s nipples and pinches them a few more times, then moves that hand to wrap around the part of Finn’s dick that his mouth doesn’t reach. Puck starts stroking with that hand, meeting his lips as they slide down Finn’s dick repeatedly.
“Shit, Puck,” Finn says again, moving his fingers against Puck’s scalp, rubbing across the shaved sides. “That’s awesome.”
Puck’s hand on Finn’s balls moves again, two fingers landing on the skin behind Finn’s balls, and he strokes it slowly, a lot more slowly than his mouth and his other hand are moving. Finn starts lifting his hips involuntarily, holding onto the bathroom counter next to the toilet with one hand, the other tightening in Puck’s mohawk. Finn knows he’s going to come soon, and he knows he needs to tell Puck that it’s him, but he doesn’t want Puck to stop.
“Puck,” Finn begins. “Puck?”
The fingers behind Finn’s balls have even more pressure behind each stroke, and Puck takes even more of Finn in his mouth than he has before, his hand tightening around the base of Finn’s dick. Finn cries out louder than he means to as he starts to come, thrusting up in to Puck’s mouth, his fingertips digging into Puck’s scalp. Puck keeps sucking the entire time Finn is coming, but his hands move, palms flat on Finn’s thighs by the time Finn is still. Puck licks at Finn’s dick gently for a few more seconds before standing up and putting his hands under Finn’s arms.
Once Finn is standing up, Puck kisses him, and while they kiss, Puck is pulling up Finn’s boxers and tucking him away, then fastening Finn’s jeans. After Puck kisses Finn, he smooths Finn’s shirt down. “Go on,” he says, still whispering.
Finn hesitates. He needs to tell Puck it was him, but now it feels like it’s too late. Instead, he just murmurs, “Thanks,” and lets himself out of the bathroom, feeling guiltier with each passing second. Hopefully everyone’s ready for their ride home, because the designated driver needs to get out of there.
Puck knows he’s pretty drunk, because he’s cuddling with a guy while other people are around. It’s Mike, though, and it’s a glee club party, which to Puck’s drunk mind makes it safer, if not totally okay. He and Mike haven’t hooked up since Mike and Tina got together, over the summer, but Tina doesn’t seem to mind, which is pretty awesome, and when Puck leaves the room a little later, he figures Mike will follow him.
A bathroom hookup is probably just as sleazy as it sounds, but it’s not like Mike could ever invite Puck over, and Puck doesn’t have people over to his house, not most of the time, unless they’re Finn or, last year, Quinn. So bathrooms are pretty much where every hookup with Mike has been, and it might be a first to hookup in the bathroom at the Berry house, but that’s the only first.
That’s what Puck thinks for a good forty-five seconds or so, anyway, from when he grabs Mike’s forearms, tells him to leave the light off, and backs him up to the toilet. He’s starting to wonder when Mike got taller when he’s unzipping jeans and pushing down boxers, he really wonders why he’s having to reach at that angle for shoulders, and when he wraps his hand around the dick in front of him, it all comes together, even through the booze.
This isn’t Mike. This is Finn, Finn who is getting hard in Puck’s hand, Finn who Puck figured he’d never see do anything less than heterosexual, Finn who Puck had figured was a ‘not even while drunk’. Despite all of that, Finn doesn’t bolt when he hears Puck’s voice again, and then Puck has his mouth on Finn’s dick.
Puck decides in about five seconds that he’s going to go for it, and Finn’s whimpering and moaning just makes it hotter. He puts his hand up Finn’s shirt and wonders if Finn realizes at all who is giving him a blowjob. Finn’s hands are on his head, which is what Puck would have asked for if his mouth wasn’t full, and he focuses on just one nipple, rubbing at it until it’s sticking out a little and he pinches at it. His other hand is on Finn’s balls, because Puck knows how much he likes it when the positions are reversed, and he likes teasing that way, too.
The question about whether or not Finn knows is answered, though, when interspersed with Finn’s moans and whimpers and whining is Puck’s name, and Puck didn’t actually think it could get much hotter, but that does it. Finn’s fingers are almost scraping at the sides of Puck’s head, and Puck slides his hand back, pressing two fingers to the skin between Finn’s balls and his hole. He keeps his strokes there nice and slow, even while his other hand and mouth are moving faster, and when Finn actually makes words again, Puck knows that Finn likes it. Likes it enough that he’s about to come, and trying to warn Puck, Puck thinks, and Puck decides that means more pressure at the same time he takes in as much of Finn’s dick as he can.
It works beautifully, Finn thrusting up into Puck’s mouth and coming hard, and Puck moves his hands to Finn’s thighs while he keeps sucking and then licking. Once Finn is completely still and as clean as Puck can manage, he stands up, dragging Finn with him. He kisses Finn, both because he wants to and as a little distraction while Puck puts him back together. By the time Puck runs his hands down Finn’s chest, straightening out Finn’s shirt, Puck knows no one outside the bathroom will be able to tell what Finn was just doing.
“Go on,” Puck whispers, and after a muttered “thanks,” that’s what Finn does. Puck tries to count to two hundred before leaving the bathroom, but he loses track somewhere around one hundred sixty, and decides that’s probably long enough. He goes straight to the remaining alcohol, almost tripping over Mike sprawled on the rug, and drinks a few more shots before he finds his own corner of the floor to curl up in. He can’t decide if he hopes he remembers everything the next morning or not. At least he had one night with Finn, half of his drunken brain says, but the other half says it’d be worse to remember every detail and watch Finn walking around like nothing happened.
Nothing resolved in or out of his brain, Puck closes his eyes, his head dropping to the carpet, and lets the fact that it’s early morning and he’s drunk overrule any desire to stay awake.
Finn can’t get it out of his head. How good it felt. How perfectly Puck’s mouth fit around him. How Puck’s hands and fingers touched him in so many different ways. How Puck thought he was Mike… well, that part is stuck in Finn’s head, too, but not in a good way. He used Puck, took advantage of how drunk he was, and no matter how good it felt when Puck blew him, Finn is carrying around a lot of guilt, too.
The right thing to do would be to confess to Puck right away. When they get to school that morning, everybody but Finn apparently nursing a hangover, Finn almost pulls Puck aside to tell him what happened. In the end, though, admitting he let Puck blow him would be admitting more than Finn’s ready to admit. The list of things he’d be ’fessing up to is just too long, and letting Puck think he was Mike is just the top entry on that long, long list.
Finn doesn’t confess to Puck. He doesn’t really talk to Puck much, either. Puck seems busy with Lauren anyway, so maybe what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Maybe Puck would be happier just thinking he had a drunk quickie with Mike that doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything, or it shouldn’t, even if it does. If Finn spends the rest of the day staring at Puck’s mouth and hands any time Puck isn’t looking directly at Finn, that won’t hurt him either.
When Finn gets home that afternoon, he’s immediately pounced on by Kurt, who wants to tell him all about the apparently new romance between Blaine and Rachel, and exactly what Kurt thinks about it. Finn’s not sure what the real problem is, because sure, Kurt wants to hook up with Blaine, but that doesn’t seem to be the focal point of what he’s angry about.
“And someone can’t just up and decide they like girls one day!” Kurt says, pacing back and forth across Finn’s room in a way that makes Finn’s head hurt. “You’re either gay or you’re not. You don’t get to drive down the middle of the freeway. You have to pick a direction!”
Finn nods his head to let Kurt know he’s listening, and Kurt can decide that means Finn agrees, if he wants to decide that. What Kurt’s saying hits a little too close for comfort, though.
“Bisexual,” Kurt says, practically spitting out the word. “That’s just another word for people who are too scared to come out.”
“Oh,” Finn says. Maybe Kurt’s right. Maybe Puck, and possibly Mike, and maybe even Finn, are all secretly gay and too afraid to admit it. Finn doesn’t think that’s true. He doesn’t think that getting blown by Puck means he likes girls any less, but maybe Kurt is right, and Finn’s just trying to drive in both directions of traffic at once.
“Thank you for listening,” Kurt says, sitting down on the bed next to Finn. “I’m glad I’ve got somebody on my side at least.”
“Yeah,” Finn says.
“Anything new with you? Rachel was all over you at the beginning of the party, so I’m sure you’re equally distressed by this turn of events,” Kurt says.
“No, I’m fine with it,” Finn says. “You know, like, I mean I didn’t want to get back with her or anything, so it doesn’t bother me.”
“Hmm. Well, I imagine she’ll be back on the market in a few days when Blaine comes to his senses, if you change your mind,” Kurt says.
“Yeah, probably won’t, but…” Finn shrugs.
“Hope springs eternal that someone, at least, will come to his or her senses,” Kurt says, as he stands. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“Sure. Thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome, Finn,” Kurt says, turning and walking out of Finn’s room.
Finn lies back on his bed, feeling even worse than he did before. Not only did he take advantage of his drunk best friend, not only did he let Puck think he was somebody else, but now he’s a middle-of-the-freeway driver who doesn’t even know which direction he’s driving. He’s done this all wrong from every direction, and that must mean there’s something very wrong with him.
What makes it even worse is the fact that every time he thinks about it, his first feeling isn’t guilt or disgust or embarrassment. It’s want. He wants Puck. He wants Puck’s mouth and hands on him again, more than he’s ever really wanted anything sexual from anybody else. Finn is mad at himself for how turned on he gets just thinking about it, but not so mad at himself that he doesn’t lock his door and jerk off thinking about Puck’s lips wrapped around his dick and Puck’s fingers pinching his nipples. He comes hard, then promptly feels guilty all over again.
The next two days are pretty much the same, with Finn staring at Puck’s mouth, watching his tongue swipe along his bottom lip, watching how his fingers are always moving and tapping on something or touching something. A few times, Puck catches him staring and gives him a weird look, but he doesn’t call Finn on it, and for that much, Finn is grateful. He goes home both days and jerks off thinking about Puck.
The following day is the school assembly for alcohol awareness, and when Rachel passes around a bottle full of something that looks and smells disgusting, but promises to be both alcoholic and strong, Finn is happy to drink his share of it. Everyone drinks, and when they perform, it’s obvious they’re all staggering around half-drunk, finally culminating in Brittany puking rainbows all over the stage while the rest of the glee club jumps back, gagging.
As they stumble for the edge of the stage, Puck trips over somebody or something and catches himself on Finn, his hands grabbing Finn’s arms just like they did the night of the party. Puck doesn’t let go right away, even though it makes moving a little awkward, and he looks from his hands to Finn’s face almost curiously.
“You okay?” Finn says. “Kinda wobbly.”
“Yeah, I should probably sit down,” Puck says, frowning.
Finn looks around the puke-stinking stage, then out at the shrieking, gagging students in the stands. “Maybe we can find a place backstage,” Finn says, guiding Puck back through the curtain, and towards the back, where he sees what looks like an open closet door. “In here?”
“Sure,” Puck says, and he looks curious again, this time looking from the rest of the school to Finn’s face to his hands on Finn’s arms. “Cool.”
“What’s cool?” Finn asks, pulling Puck with him towards the closet. “I bet there’s a chair in there for you.”
“This is cool,” Puck says, but he does sound less drunk than he was at the party. He lets Finn lead him to a chair and sit him down in it, then Finn closes the closet door and locks it. The room is full of racks of old Cheerios stuff and some mascot suits, plus what looks like stacks of fireworks and a broken balance beam.
“Better?” Finn asks him.
“Yeah,” Puck says, and he grins at Finn in the dim light.
“Listen,” Finn says, dropping down onto the floor next to Puck’s chair. “I need to tell you something. I need to apologize for something.”
“Did you use my history textbook again? I never use it,” Puck says, flipping his hand to the side dismissively.
“No. I mean, yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about,” Finn says. He puts his head in his hands. “Shit, I don’t even know how to tell you. I have no idea how to make this up to you. You’re never going to trust me again.”
Puck reaches out and starts patting Finn’s head. “You’re not making any sense, dude.”
Maybe Puck has a point. Finn’s head is starting to swim a little from the gross booze mix he drank, so maybe he’s not explaining clearly enough. He blurts out, “It wasn’t Mike!”
“What wasn’t Mike?” Puck says, looking really confused, and he keeps patting the top of Finn’s head. “It’s cool. Whatever it was, we’re cool.”
“No, Puck, it’s not cool. I let you— and it was so—” Finn breaks off, shaking his head side to side. “And you didn’t know it was me. You thought it was Mike. And I just let you.”
“What are you talking about?” Puck asks, staring at Finn.
“Maybe if I make it up to you,” Finn says, suddenly seizing on a crazy idea that seems to make sense. “Then we’d be kind of even, right?” He sits up onto his knees, putting his hands on top of Puck’s knees. “Then it wouldn’t be so bad, what I did.”
“Sure,” Puck says, and his eyes drop from Finn’s face to Finn’s hands on Puck’s knees. “Yeah, okay. Cool.”
“Yeah? It’s cool?” Finn asks, his hands already moving towards Puck’s fly.
“Yeah,” Puck says, sounding a little breathless, and the hand that’s been patting Finn’s head stops, his fingers running through Finn’s hair. Finn fumbles a little with the button of Puck’s jeans, but then he gets it and the zipper undone, pulling down on the waistband. Like he is pretty much every day but game days, Puck is going commando, and his dick is already hard, standing erect as Finn pulls his jeans down.
“I haven’t even done this before,” Finn says, probably unnecessarily. He wraps his hand around Puck’s dick, just like he would do to his own.
“This is so cool,” Puck says, his hand still running through Finn’s hair, and he’s staring at Finn almost in awe.
“Yeah, I hope so,” Finn says, leaning towards Puck and putting his lips around the head of Puck’s dick, moving his hand roughly on the shaft. Finn half sucks, half licks the head before moving downward, not sure if he’s doing it right, or right enough.
“Oh, shit, your mouth,” Puck says, and he brings his other hand to rest on Finn’s head. “Should be brighter, that’s really, yeah. Yeah. Really good.”
Finn sucks and licks and moves his lips more, taking in more of Puck’s dick and sort of jerking him off at the same time. At one point, he looks up at Puck, who is staring back at him, his mouth curved in a half-smile. Finn feels a huge rush of affection for Puck that he might even call love if he stopped long enough to think about it. Instead, he realizes that he’s getting hard, too, and that blowing Puck might be not as hot as getting blown by him, but it’s pretty close.
Puck’s hands don’t stop moving in Finn’s hair, combing through it and tugging on it occasionally, and Puck doesn’t stop talking for very long at a time, pausing just to take long deep breaths. “That’s so hot, so good to look at,” Puck says. “Your mouth is so hot. Both kinds of hot. You should grab my balls like I did to you.”
Finn’s eyebrows raise and his eyes widen, because if Puck remembers that, maybe he didn’t think Finn was Mike. Finn does take his free hand and carefully cup Puck’s balls, bouncing them very lightly on his palm while he keeps sucking on Puck’s dick. He looks up at Puck’s face again, hoping for some kind of approval.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re awesome,” Puck says, the half-grin now closer to a full-grin. “Can I come in your mouth when it’s time?”
Finn does his best to nod, because that’s what he did to Puck. It’s only fair if Puck does it to him. He gently rolls Puck’s balls in his hand, feeling their weight. Finn hadn’t ever spent much time thinking about balls before, but it’s cool to hold Puck’s like that, like some cool combination sex and trust thing. That makes Finn feel the wave of affection again, and it’s possible he smiles a little around Puck’s dick.
“Yeah, this is so great,” Puck says. “Never thought I’d see this. Never even thought I’d kiss you.” He pulls at Finn’s hair a little more sharply, and his hips twitch, like he’s holding them as still as he can. “Fuck, but it’s hot.”
Finn runs his tongue up the shaft of Puck’s dick and lets it kind of curl around the head, thinking he remembered Puck doing something like that to him. The booze-blend is still making him a little dizzy, but it might just be Puck and the way he tastes, smells, and feels. Finn strokes Puck’s dick a little faster, moving his mouth to match his hand’s speed, and he presses up at the skin just behind Puck’s balls with the tips of his fingers, Puck’s balls still against his palm.
“Oh, shit, yeah,” Puck says, and his hips do more than twitch, lifting up. “Shit, look at you, fast learner. That’s awesome.”
Finn looks up at Puck’s face again. Puck’s eyes are wide and look clear, not like he’s had much of anything to drink. Finn tries to smile at Puck again, not sure if he manages it or not. Puck grins back at him, and he loosens his hold on Finn’s hair, going back to combing through it. Finn has a raging hard-on now, and wishes he and Puck were some place that wasn’t a supply closet so he could take his pants off and wallow on Puck a little.
“Just keep going, keep doing all of that,” Puck says, panting a little between words. “All of it, this is good, so good, Finn.”
Finn keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, with the sucking and licking and his hand on Puck’s balls and his other hand on Puck’s dick, continuing to look up at Puck’s face, which looks sort of beautiful with the look on his face and the big smile. Puck seems like he’s about to say something else, but he cuts himself off with a low moan as his hips jerk up and he comes, his dick pushing towards the back of Finn’s mouth. He keeps moaning and whimpering while he comes, his eyes closing.
Finn isn’t really prepared, and he has to pull back, sputtering a little, which means Puck more or less finishing coming on Finn’s face. He sits back, his hands still on Puck, feeling startled and blinking up at Puck. Puck slowly opens his eyes and grins at Finn.
“That’s kind of hot, too,” he says quietly.
“Yeah?” Finn asks, wiping at his face with the back of his hand.
“Yeah.” Puck watches Finn, not moving and not making any effort to move, still grinning.
“Cool,” Finn says. He wipes his face more, until he feels like he doesn’t have anything on it anymore. “So… did you know it was me? At the party?”
“I’d know who you were if I were blindfolded and you were gagged,” Puck says, but after he says that, his grin fades a little and he looks almost confused.
“What?” Finn asks. “What’s wrong? Is it ’cause of what happened at the party?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Puck says, and he shakes his head a few times, then blinks. “Nothing’s wrong,” he repeats more softly.
“What is it, then?”
Puck pats Finn’s head. “Nothing’s wrong. Just— just a weird thought.”
“Did you want to tell me?” Finn asks.
“No, it’s fine,” Puck says, still patting Finn’s head, and he smiles again.
“Okay,” Finn says. He sits back on his heels for a little while, looking at Puck, smiling and relaxed with his dick still hanging out of his pants. “Could, uh… could I kiss you, maybe?”
Puck’s smile gets bigger, and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s cool.”
Finn kneels up, and Puck leans forward, and their mouths meet in a hard clash, Finn’s teeth against Puck’s lower lip and his tongue pressing into Puck’s mouth. Puck kisses back just as hard, definitely harder than he kissed Finn at the party, and his tongue slides along Finn’s and in Finn’s mouth. The hand that was patting Finn’s head slides down to the back of his neck, holding him in place.
Finn feels like he could keep kissing Puck for hours. He snags the front of Puck’s shirt, pulling him forward to tumble off the chair and onto Finn’s lap, a little awkward because of the shoved-down jeans. Puck laughs into Finn’s mouth but doesn’t stop kissing Finn or complain, and he shifts around on Finn’s lap for a few seconds. Then he stops and pushes down deliberately, still kissing Finn, and rubs himself against Finn’s hard-on. Finn moans and holds Puck closer, grinding up against him.
Puck wiggles again, working his jeans down a little more, and then he presses down on Finn’s dick again, lining it up almost perfectly with his ass. Finn moans against, kissing Puck harder, but as Puck keeps pressing down against his hard-on, he pulls away.
“If you do that, I’m gonna come in my jeans,” Finn says breathlessly.
“Or unzip them and come on my ass,” Puck says, lifting up just enough to relieve the immediate pressure.
Finn blinks. “Yeah? You want that?”
Puck doesn’t answer, just pushes his own jeans down and off before reaching for Finn’s jeans. He unzips them and carefully pulls Finn’s dick out of his boxers before looking at Finn again. “Yeah,” he says, straddling Finn and starting to move his ass down, not quite touching Finn’s dick. Finn thrusts upward, his dick bumping against Puck’s ass.
“Sit down,” Finn whines.
Puck grins again and sits, wiggling in place a little. “Better?”
“Oh fuck yeah,” Finn says, thrusting up against Puck’s ass again. “Can’t believe we’re doing this for real.”
“Yeah,” Puck says, sounding almost out of it again. “Yeah, just like that, Finn.”
“Yeah,” Finn agrees, continuing to grind against Puck. He kisses the side of Puck’s neck and puts both his arms around him to move him, pull him down harder onto Finn’s dick.
“Fuck,” Puck says, the word coming out in a whine. “Fuck, yes.”
“Shit. Shit, I’m gonna come, Puck,” Finn says. “Shit, Puck, I’m gonna—” He breaks off as he starts to come against Puck’s ass, Puck sliding hot and slick over Finn’s dick now.
“Oh shit, oh shit,” Puck mutters, moving against Finn faster while Finn is coming, and then he kisses Finn, his tongue pushing into Finn’s mouth but the kiss itself is somehow slower and almost gentle.
Finn holds Puck in his arms as they kiss, until the hot, slick feeling turns into more of a sticky, gross feeling. He relaxes his hold on Puck, who slides back a little on the slippery mess. Finn looks down at himself and grimaces.
"I made us a mess," he says apologetically.
Puck shakes his head. “We both did,” he says, sounding both matter-of-fact about it and maybe pleased.
"Yeah, I guess we did," Finn concedes. "We have to figure out how to clean up if we ever want to get out of here, though."
“Grab one of those old Cheerios uniforms,” Puck says after looking around for a minute. “We can toss it on the way out."
Finn reaches for the nearest uniform and shakes off the dust before handing the top to Puck, using the bottom to wipe at the come on his pelvis and thighs, where Puck had slid. Puck wipes himself off for a few seconds before standing up, and he grabs his jeans, pulling them on slowly and watching Finn.
Finn lets the Cheerios skirt drop as he stands and pulls up his own jeans, glancing at Puck and grinning as he zips them.
“You think we’re gonna get in trouble over the puke thing?” Finn asks. “’Cause we could just go home if we’ll get in trouble here.”
“We didn’t puke,” Puck points out. “I bet Schue makes sure we don’t get in trouble, though.”
“We could go home anyway,” Finn says.
Puck tilts his head at Finn, then shakes it a little before blinking twice and holding out his arm. “Pinch me,” he says. “’Cause I thought maybe the party was some kind of weird dream, and I know I had a little bit to drink today, but not that much. But let’s just be sure here.”
Finn pinches Puck's arm, not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to count. "I think you're awake, dude," he tells Puck.
“Well, who fucking knew,” Puck says, sounding a little amazed, but he picks up both of the used Cheerio uniform pieces and steps towards the door. “Your place?”
“Maybe we should go to yours,” Finn says. “Kurt’s already pissed about the Blaine-and-Rachel thing, and I think I have to figure out what side of the freeway I drive on before he find out about this.”
“Your mom has way better food,” Puck complains, ditching the uniforms in the first trash can they pass after stepping back into the now-empty gym. “What’s Blaine or Rachel got to do with you and I? And what does the freeway have to do with anything? We’re not British. We drive on the righthand side.”
“Yeah, but so Blaine and Rachel are maybe kind of going out now? And Kurt’s pissed because he says Blaine can’t just suddenly start liking girls,” Finn explains. “Kurt says either you’re gay or not, and you can’t drive up the middle of the freeway because you won’t pick a lane. And he says that people who say they’re bi are just too scared to come out.” He looks anxiously at Puck, hoping that doesn’t make him mad or upset.
“Bullshit,” Puck says, stopping in the middle of the hallway. “You know what? I think we should go to Dalton. You know why?”
“To argue with Kurt?” Finn guesses.
“Well, maybe that, but first, I’m going to throw him in a fancy Dalton dumpster,” Puck says firmly, scowling. “He’s wrong.”
“Are you sure? He knows a lot about gay stuff.”
“You liked what we were doing, right?” Puck asks, waiting for Finn to nod before continuing. “I bet if we stopped at the next classroom and there was a girl in her bra, you’d still like looking at that, too, wouldn’t you?”
Finn thinks about it for a second, then nods again. “If she was cute or her boobs were really great,” he says.
“Yeah, see? Your brother may know a lot about gay, but I guess it’s like… I guess it’s just as different as straight and gay, maybe,” Puck says, still looking upset. “Of course people can like both girls and boys. Maybe he just meant he didn’t want Blaine to like both, but that’s still a shitty thing to say. Are you sure I can’t go throw him in a dumpster?”
“Dalton’s kind of a long drive,” Finn points out, “and I bet somebody’d be home by the time we got back.”
“Yeah, good point. But we’re going to your place,” Puck says. “Because of the food. Any yelling at Kurt is just a bonus.”
“Okay, but don’t yell too hard. He did just kind of get dumped for Rachel Berry,” Finn says.
“Yeah, okay, that does suck,” Puck says, making a face and starting to walk towards the door again. “But it’s still uncool.” Once they get outside, Puck looks a little happier. “Maybe he’s just jealous.”
“Yeah, maybe so,” Finn says. They keep walking towards Finn’s truck, and when they’re both inside and buckled, Finn asks, “So you for real knew it wasn't Mike?”
“I thought I was having a dream when I remembered most of it later,” Puck says, “but I knew it was you. Too tall, dick too big, sounded like you, smelled like you.”
“And you weren’t, like, disappointed?”
“Shit, Finn, if you think that’s my ‘disappointed’ blowjob, I’m in trouble when you want a less disappointed one,” Puck says with a snort.
“It was an awesome blowjob,” Finn assures him, putting his hand on Puck’s leg as he turns out of the McKinley parking lot. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“I knew it was you. I wasn’t disappointed in any way,” Puck repeats. “And I figured I must’ve done something right, since you returned the favor.” He glances sideways at Finn. “Always figured you were completely straight, you know.”
“Yeah, I guess not anymore,” Finn says. “I guess I thought I was or never gave myself a chance to think about whether I was or wasn’t, not until you put your mouth on me.” He grins over at Puck. “That changed my mind really quick.”
Puck grins back, almost smirking and looking like he’s ready to pat himself on the back. “You know what you should do?"
“I think you should fuck me.”
Finn almost veers off the road. “Like… Like fuck you–fuck you?”
“Yeah, like your dick in my ass.”
“For real?” Finn asks.
“You don’t have to, but yeah, for real,” Puck says.
“Like, today?” Finn asks.
“Is that a really enthusiastic yes or you trying to find a way to say no?” Puck says. “Yeah, today, if you want to.”
“I was just trying to figure out if we needed any kind of special stuff for that,” Finn says, “because I have no idea where to get that.”
“Drive by my place. Probably could steal some from Kurt, too,” Puck says. “Is that a yes?”
“Yeah, it’s a yes!”
Puck grins at that, looking really pleased with himself. “Okay. Cool.”
“I don’t think Kurt would have the stuff, though,” Finn says.
“Yeah, maybe not,” Puck says, making a face and then shrugging. “I can just run in. Or, I mean, stuff from Rite Aid or Walgreens’ll work.”
“Yeah? It doesn’t have to be, like, special?”
“It’s just lube,” Puck says. “I mean, yeah, there’s different kinds, but it’ll do. Whichever detour you’d rather make.”
Puck is pretty sure he’s never had a quicker trip into his room for anything, even though he had tried not to run until after he was inside. He had grabbed the lube and a fresh shirt, in case he crashed at Finn’s, and that had been all he figured he needed.
Now that they’re at Finn’s, and no one else is there, Puck realizes he doesn’t have anything else he needs to say, not really, and the silence as they walk inside and upstairs is comfortable. Sure, Puck had surprised Finn while they were driving, but Puck isn’t surprised that he said it, and he wasn’t even as he was saying it, even if it wasn’t something he planned out ahead of time.
Like he’d thought before the party and even after the party, thinking it was some kind of weird alcohol-dream, he’d never imagined that Finn would even be interested. When Puck is pretty sure someone won’t be interested, he doesn’t usually let himself think about them, or at least not very much, but that rule was only a few years old, and Puck would be a liar if he said he hadn’t thought about Finn off and on for years. More off than on since high school, but it had been there in the back of his head.
Puck sets the bottle of lube on the table next to Finn’s bed and pulls off his shirt before sitting down, gesturing for Finn to sit beside him. Finn sits, grinning at Puck in a way that’s, yeah, a little sappy, but also sweet. Puck puts one arm around Finn’s waist, tugging him closer.
“Take your shirt off,” Puck says.
Finn pulls his shirt over his head, still grinning as he lets it sail through the air and hit the floor. Puck grins back, moving his other hand to Finn’s chest, running his thumb over one of Finn’s nipples.
“You liked that the other night, yeah?” Puck asks.
“Yeah,” Finn says. “I did. I didn’t know how much you remembered, though.”
“I kind of thought I’d had a really, really detailed dream,” Puck admits, still rubbing his thumb in a circle, and he brings his other hand up to Finn’s other side. “I just wasn’t sure if I’d really dreamed it, if I’d substituted you for someone else, or if you were really in there with me.”
“It was really me,” Finn says, closing his eyes. “I didn’t think you knew it.”
“If I’d been sober…” Puck trails off, shrugging a little. “I mean, I guess it was good we were both drunk, right? Would’ve been uncool of me if I’d been more sober.”
“Uh.” Finn opens his eyes and looks at Puck, then looks away. “I, uh.”
“I promise I wasn’t sober,” Puck says with a snort, and he lightly pinches at Finn’s nipple with one hand.
Finn mumbles something too quietly for Puck to hear. Puck knows he probably has a weird look on his face, and he raises both eyebrows questioningly.
“I was the designated driver,” Finn repeats, still looking away. “I was sober.”
“Seriously?” Puck says, his hands going still. “You’re not messing with me? I would have sworn you were drinking.”
“Yeah, a pop,” Finn says, looking more and more distressed. “I’m sorry I was uncool.”
Puck snorts. “You weren’t uncool. I was obviously willing. I just meant, you know, you hadn’t been with a guy before. So that would have been uncool of me.”
Finn shrugs. “I was willing, too.” He looks back at Puck, then away again. “Has there been a lot of guys?”
“A few,” Puck says honestly. “Not as many guys as girls by a long shot. Not because of preference, just opportunity, you know?” He isn’t sure how to convince Finn that he likes guys just as much as girls without making himself sound like all he’s done for the past few years is hook up with people. It’s not far from the truth, but Puck figures Finn’d rather not think about that.
“Like Mike?” Finn asks.
“Mike and I used to hook up sometimes last year. Before he and Tina got together,” Puck says. “I don’t know if he’s bi or just wanted to get off.”
“But you guys had sex? Not just fooling around?”
“No, Mike did not fuck me,” Puck says. “Mike liked getting blow jobs, and usually he’d finish me off with a handjob.”
“Okay,” Finn says quietly. “Anybody else that I know? I mean, you don’t have to tell me, not if you don’t want to, I just…”
“Remember when I hooked up with April Rhodes? It was really her and Matt and I,” Puck says. “And that guy Rodney who was a senior our freshman year. Remember, he was a linebacker?”
“Did either of them, uh. Fuck you?” Finn asks.
Puck starts moving his hands again and shakes his head. “The thing about most guys around here, they want quick and quiet,” Puck tries to explain. “The ones that don’t, they’re like Kurt. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that opinion on bisexuality.”
“So, has anybody fucked you?” Finn asks, now looking more curious than anything else.
Puck laughs a little, hoping it doesn’t sound mean or anything, and he shakes his head. “Nah. Not yet.”
“Did you fuck any of them? The guys, I mean.”
“One,” Puck admits. “But not anyone you know. Not really anyone I knew, either. Remember that party at the start of sophomore year, and all those people from, like, Van Wert or wherever showed up? Someone’s cousin and their friends?”
“Oh yeah, the guys in the band?” Finn nods his head. “I remember those guys. Was it some kind of, like, jazz band? Or ska or something?”
“Yeah, I don’t remember,” Puck admits. “I just liked the guy’s hat.”
“Yeah,” Finn says, laughing a little.
Puck shrugs and pinches at Finn’s nipples, both at the same time. “What about you, any secret liaisons I should know about?” he teases.
“I had sex with Santana one time,” Finn says, squirming in place on the bed. “That’s— ah!— it.”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t much of a secret, and doesn’t really count,” Puck says, leaning in and kissing Finn’s neck a few times while he keeps pinching and rubbing at Finn’s nipples. “Anything you really want to try?”
“Probably everything,” Finn says. He closes his eyes again and makes little gasping noises every time Puck pinches his nipples.
“Good answer,” Puck says. “Anywhere you really want to touch?”
“Also probably everything,” Finn replies. He reaches out and touches Puck’s chest, spreading his fingers across it. “Anywhere you want me to touch?”
“Everywhere’s good,” Puck says, grinning at Finn. “Want me to take off my jeans now?”
“Yeah. Should I take mine off, too?”
“Unless you had a specific plan for taking them off later, yeah,” Puck says, pinching Finn one final time before dropping his hands to his own jeans, unfastening them quickly and kicking them off into the floor. After the dark bathroom and the not very-well-lit closet, Finn’s bedroom means Puck can actually see Finn well, and he turns to watch him.
Finn undoes his jeans slowly and then pushes them down. Once he’s stepped out of them, he does the same with his boxers, sliding them to the floor and nudging them away with his foot. When Finn has clothes on, sometimes it’s easy to forget just how tall Finn is, but up close and naked, Puck is reminded, and he runs his tongue over his lips a time or two before grabbing Finn’s hand, appreciating the combination of height and broadness as he pulls Finn toward him.
“What have you liked best so far?” Puck asks, leaning back and continuing to pull Finn with him.
“All of it,” Finn says.
“I guess then I could say you’re either really easy to please or hard to impress,” Puck says. “We’ll go with easy to please for now, but eventually that hard to impress is going to come back and bite me.”
“What kind of stuff do you like?” Finn asks, sort of tumbling forward onto Puck, then rolling to the side.
“You don’t always have to land beside me,” Puck says. “Being on top of me is a thing we could do sometime. I like your hands. I like kissing. I like your dick.”
“I like being able to touch you, and I can’t touch you if I’m on top of you,” Finn points out.
“Not with your hands, I guess,” Puck concedes. “You should show me that.”
“With or without my hands?” Finn asks. He puts his hand on Puck’s hip, sliding it a short way down Puck’s thigh.
“Including your hands,” Puck says, scooting a little closer to Finn. Finn holds onto Puck’s hip to pull him even closer, so their chests are pressed together, then Finn’s hand moves down to Puck’s ass and grabs it.
“Like that?” Finn asks.
Puck grins widely. “Yeah, like that.”
Finn shifts his hips forward, so his dick is pushing against Puck’s. “That’s good, too?”
“Yeah, that’s definitely good,” Puck says, rocking his hips a little, just enough to add more friction. “You’re good to look at, too,” he adds, glancing up and down Finn’s body.
“Yeah?” Finn says, his face getting slightly pink. “You are, too.”
“Oh yeah?” Puck’s grin returns. “So you know, I thought it was a really cool dream, and I couldn’t figure out why you were looking at me, earlier this week. Guess I know now.” He puts one arm over Finn, his hand brushing against Finn’s back lightly. Finn sighs softly, half-closing his eyes.
“Yeah. It was sort of a combination of guilt and really, really wanting you to blow me again,” Finn admits.
“I knew that was a good blowjob,” Puck says, and he kisses Finn’s neck messily.
“First one I’d ever had,” Finn says. He tilts his head to expose more neck. “But I could still tell it was good.”
“Had to set the bar high,” Puck says, his lips almost against Finn’s ear. “I guess I should apologize, though.”
Puck grins against Finn’s ear. “’Cause I ruined you for blowjobs from anyone else, duh.”
“But I don’t want blowjobs from anyone else,” Finn says. “I want them from you.” His hand rubs a slow circle on Puck’s ass, occasionally squeezing.
“Hey, that worked out, then,” Puck says, wiggling a little against Finn. “You still want to fuck me?”
“Yeah. You still want me to?” Finn asks.
“Duh,” Puck says, pushing his dick against Finn’s. “Don’t you think so?”
“Yeah, I do.” Finn slides his hand back around from Puck’s ass and wraps it around Puck’s dick instead, barely stroking it. “Are we in a hurry?”
“Well, I figured out a year or so ago, that ‘time management’ thing they talk about in school? Actually useful in other areas,” Puck says. “Maybe after you fuck me I’d have time to blow you before anyone else got here.”
“I just don’t want to rush through it, is all,” Finn says, ducking his head.
“No rush,” Puck agrees, and he nudges Finn’s chin up enough to kiss him. “You’re sweet,” he says with a little grin, then laughs.
“I’m not sweet,” Finn says.
“Yeah you are,” Puck insists. “We’re like Chinese food. Sweet and sour.”
Finn starts laughing. “Chinese food? We’re like Chinese food?”
“Hey, there are a lot worse things,” Puck says. “We could be shellfish or something. Chinese takeout’s pretty awesome.”
“So we’re Chinese takeout,” Finn says, shaking his head as he keeps laughing. “I Chinese takeout you, Puck.”
Puck grins and kisses Finn before Finn even stops laughing. “Yeah, yeah, I Chinese takeout you, too,” he says. “But I’m still right.”
“Maybe,” Finn concedes. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m definitely right.” Puck squeezes his hand between them, running it down Finn’s chest. “This is going to be awesome, I’m right about that too.”
“Yeah, you’re right about a lot of stuff,” Finn says. He moves his hand on Puck’s dick in longer, firmer strokes. “This is already awesome.”
“Yeah, I was noticing,” Puck says with a grin. “You want me to tell you specific things I like? Or is it going to make you look away every time?”
“You can tell me. I won’t look away if you don’t like it.”
“Good. I don’t like that you think you should,” Puck tries to explain. “I like how your hand feels right now. How much of my dick your hand covers.” Puck isn’t sure he can explain it even to himself why it feels so important to tell Finn all of this, but it does, so he will.
“Yeah?” Finn smiles. “I always feel like my hands are too big for stuff. I think they fit on you pretty great, though.”
“Yeah, I think they’re a pretty damn great size,” Puck says, his hips rocking a little, pushing his dick into Finn’s hand. Finn strokes him a little harder. “No fucking complaints.” He kisses Finn, not as hard as some of their other kisses, just slowly pushing his tongue into Finn’s mouth while Finn’s hand keeps moving on Puck’s dick.
Finn melts into the kiss, his lips soft against Puck’s as his tongue slides along Puck’s tongue. His hard-on pushes against Puck’s hip, and Puck pushes back, rubbing up and down it a little. Finn’s right, there’s no need to hurry, but Puck’s body thinks they should hurry anyway, and he kisses Finn a little harder.
“Like how you kiss, too,” Puck says, a little breathless.
“Yeah, you too,” Finn says. “I like it a lot.”
“Good, yeah,” Puck says, and he reaches for Finn’s hard-on, running his fingertips up it. “I want you to start fingering me now.”
Finn’s eyebrows raise. “Is it complicated? Like, can I do it wrong?”
“I guess maybe there’s someone out there that’s figured out a way to do it wrong, but I don’t think you can,” Puck says, shaking his head. “Just, we can’t go from nothing to dick without a few steps in between.” He reaches behind him and hands Finn the bottle of lube, mentally thankful that it’s a nearly-new bottle, only used a few times when he was jerking off.
Finn gives the bottle a dubious look as he takes it. “I guess that makes sense,” he says. “But it feels good, right? Like, you'll like it?”
“Yeah, it’ll feel good,” Puck promises.
“Just, you know, fingers in your ass kind of sounds uncomfortable,” Finn says.
“You liked it when I had my fingers behind your balls, right?” Puck frowns. “That was real, right, ’cause you did it earlier? Yeah, okay, so it’s not that different.” It’s probably more different than Puck’s letting Finn think, but Puck knows it’ll feel good.
Finn nods. “Okay. You want me to do it now? Is there some way you want to lie down?"
“How do you want me?” Puck counters. “I can stay kind of like this or on my back, I guess.”
“This is good, I think,” Finn says. He opens the lid of the lube bottle and pours a little onto his fingers, holding them up slightly with a questioning look. “More? Less?”
Puck shrugs a little. “I think that’s good for now.”
“Okay.” Finn props himself up on his other arm, and Puck shifts on the bed, pulling his top leg up some before propping it a little awkwardly on his bottom leg and Finn’s legs.
Finn reaches behind Puck, feeling around a little with his slick finger, and then one fingertip finds Puck’s hole, tracing around it lightly. Puck nods, his lips parted a little, and he spreads his hand against Finn’s side and back.
“Yeah, go ahead,” Puck says softly. The very tip of Finn’s finger slips inside, and Finn’s breath catches a little.
“You’re so hot,” Finn says, sounding awed. “So hot inside you.”
“Yeah,” Puck says, and even though he’s trying to hold still, he moves his ass a little, wanting more of Finn’s finger and less at the same time. He decides that probably is because it’s almost tickling, and he nods at Finn. “You can do more.”
Finn pushes his finger deeper into Puck, past the second knuckle, his other fingers curled and pressing against Puck’s ass. He moves his finger slightly, not really wiggling it, but bending it a little as he barely slides it out and back in.
"Is that okay?" Finn asks.
“Yeah, that’s okay,” Puck says, nodding again. He still feels like he wants more and less at once, the stretch burning a little, but he kisses Finn and wiggles a little, deciding that maybe he likes the stretching part. “Definitely okay.”
“You feel so tight,” Finn breathes. “You’re sure this doesn’t hurt? Is there something I can do better?”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Puck insists, because the way everything feels more intense, the stretching, and even the burning, he wouldn’t call any of it hurting. “You can keep moving your finger. I like it.”
Finn nods, and starts moving his finger a little more deliberately, fucking Puck’s hole with it. His dick gets even harder, pressed against Puck’s leg. Puck grins, pushing back just a little against Finn’s finger.
“You’re thinking about fucking me, aren’t you?” Puck asks. “That’s why you’re so hard.”
“Yeah,” Finn says. He eyes are bright and his face is a little pink. “Yeah, I’m thinking about it, how tight you’re gonna feel. How hot you are.”
“Yeah, it’s going to be awesome,” Puck says, and he’s not really sure if there’s some way to know when Finn’s supposed to use two fingers, but he thinks that it’s a pretty good idea. “Put another finger in me.”
"Yeah?" Finn asks. He pulls the finger inside Puck almost entirely out, and Puck can feel another fingertip pressing against his hole. "You're sure? Right now?"
“Yeah, right now!” Puck says, and he has a feeling he sounds a little whiny, pressing back against Finn’s fingers. Finn pushes his fingers back into Puck's hole, a second finger beside the first.
"Shit, Puck," Finn says, breathy and quiet. "You're really tight and it's awesome."
“Yeah.” Puck concentrates on breathing for a few moments, the burning getting more intense again as Finn’s fingers push deeper, before exhaling and leaning his head against Finn’s shoulder. “Fuck, I’ve never felt anything like this.”
"Bad or good?" Finn asks. He moves his fingers inside Puck, curling and wiggling them a little.
Puck manages a short laugh. “Good. Definitely good. Oh, fuck, that’s— yeah. Definitely good.” He can still feel Finn hard against him, and he isn’t sure if Finn should use three fingers for a few moments before his dick or not. He is pretty sure that two fingers is turning out to be more awesome than just one, which at least means Finn’s dick should be the most awesome.
"What else should I do to make it good?" Finn asks.
“You think we should do three fingers or should you just fuck me?” Puck asks, his breathing shallow and rapid. “It is good.”
Finn dick twitches against Puck's leg, indicating that it, at least, is in favor of going right to the fucking. Finn takes a deep breath, though, and Puck can feel the tip of a third finger slowly working its way inside him.
"Oh my god," Finn says. "Just, oh my god."
Puck grins, biting down on his lower lip a little, and he pushes back, pushing himself onto Finn’s fingers. “If I asked you right now what—oh yeah, there—what you wanted, what would you answer?”
Finn repeats the motion of his fingers, a slight bend with upward pressure. "I could do this forever," he says, "but I really want to fuck you."
“I think you should do that right now,” Puck says as firmly as he can. Finn nods and slides his fingers slowly out of Puck's hole, feeling around for the bottle of lube again.
"Figured we needed more, right?" Finn asks.
“Yeah,” Puck agrees, nodding. “You want me on my back or my knees?”
"Shit. Uh, both?" Finn says with a little laugh. "Which way's better?"
“Better for what?” Puck asks, and he grins a little himself. “Maybe back today.” He rolls onto his back, bending his knees as he keeps watching Finn. “Probably we’ll be somewhere soon it makes sense for you to take me from behind.”
Finn lets out a little whimper at that, almost dropping the bottle of lube as he tries to close it. "Oh shit, Puck, I like when you say it like that."
“What, you taking me?” Puck repeats, his grin getting wider. “Isn’t that what you’re going to do?”
"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm going to do," Finn says. He shifts position, so he’s kneeling between Puck’s knees. His eyebrows knit together briefly then, and he frowns. “Do, uh? Should I use a condom?”
“Oh.” Puck frowns a little. “I do get tested. I’m clean. I guess it’s up to you. I’m fine without you using one.”
Finn nods. “Yeah, I haven’t been with anybody since I got tested after Santana, so if you’re sure it’s cool with you?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Puck says, grinning again. “C’mon.”
“Okay, yeah,” Finn says. He smiles back at Puck as he positions his dick at Puck’s hole. “We good?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” Puck says, lifting his hips up a little. “You going to fuck me now?”
Finn nods again. “Yeah.” He pushes forward, a little awkwardly at first, thrusting against Puck’s ass a few times, but then he starts to slide inside. Finn braces his hands on Puck’s legs, pushing them back a little as he looks down, watching himself pushing into Puck.
Even though Finn used three fingers, his dick still feels a lot bigger, and Puck breathes out a few times, everything burning and aching. Puck rocks his hips just a little, barely moving, and he pulls his legs back a little more. “You can go faster,” Puck says.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Finn says, through his teeth, which appear to be clenched.
“I’ll tell you if you need to stop or slow down or something,” Puck promises. “Go ahead.”
“Okay.” Finn pushes in deeper and pulls out about halfway, then even deeper the next time, until Puck’s sure Finn must be completely inside him. “Shit, Puck, this is so good.”
Puck grins and wraps one leg around Finn. “Yeah. It is,” he says, because the stretching and the aching and the angle of Finn’s dick sliding into him all combine to just feel generally awesome. He nods a little at Finn, noticing that Finn seems to be shaking a little, like he’s having to hold himself back. “Just do what you want to do,” Puck says. “Go for it.”
“You sure?” Finn asks, looking down at Puck’s face.
“I’m sure,” Puck says.
“Awesome,” Finn says, exhaling with the word. He leans forward more, folding Puck almost in half, and starts fucking him hard and fast, holding onto one of Puck’s legs. Puck grabs Finn’s other hand, moving it to Puck’s dick, and then Puck grabs at Finn’s nipples. “Oh, oh, shit!” Finn says. He closes his eyes and keeps pounding into Puck, moving his hand rapidly up and down Puck’s dick.
“Shit, yeah,” Puck says, gasping a little with each word. The change in position means Puck can feel Finn pushing in a bit deeper, and he’s aware enough that he registers that some strokes feel particularly awesome, Finn hitting Puck’s prostate and dragging back out. Puck keeps his eyes open, watching Finn’s flushed face and the way Finn’s entire huge body is focused on one thing. It’s pretty awesome to be that one thing, Puck thinks, and he pushes up into each of Finn’s thrusts as much as he can. The two of them are making a lot of noise, which makes Puck glad no one else is there, because he doesn’t want either of them to have to shut up.
“Shit, Puck, I’m not gonna last, I’m gonna come soon,” Finn says. “Is it okay?” His teeth sink into his lower lip, his eyes half-closed as he fucks Puck.
“Yeah, you should—” Puck breaks off with a loud whimper, and he thinks about the way Finn reacted just before, almost dropping the lube. “You should fill me up with your come,” he says, because that’s the dirtiest way he can think of to put it, at least while Finn’s dick is actively pounding into him.
Finn lets out a long, kind of high-pitched whine, and he thrusts into Puck two more times before his whole body shudders, his hand tightening around Puck’s dick and stroking a little faster. Puck pushes up against Finn, into Finn’s hand, as much as he can, and he stares at Finn’s face. It’s still red, his eyes are still closed, and his mouth has fallen open a little, and Puck’s pretty sure it’s the best thing he’s seen. He keeps watching Finn and feeling Finn’s hand around his dick, and that’s enough, after what feels like just a few seconds, for Puck to come, covering Finn’s hand and both of their chests. Puck can hear himself whimpering again, and then he lets his eyes close, breathing hard.
Finn flops forward onto Puck’s chest, exhaling loudly. “Holy shit, Puck,” he murmurs. “That was so awesome.”
“Yeah,” Puck agrees, his eyes still closed, and he wraps his arms around Finn’s neck and shoulders. “Really fucking awesome.”
“Yeah,” Finn says, then after a few moments, starts to laugh.
“What?” Puck asks, cracking open one eye. “What is it?”
“Chinese takeout!” Finn says, burying his face against Puck’s neck as he continues to laugh. “It’s Chinese takeout.”
“Yeah we are,” Puck says, grinning a little and closing his eyes again. “What happens the next time your mom wants to order it? Are you going to laugh?”
“Yeah, ’cause it’s our code word now,” Finn says. “I’ll have to come find you.”
“Okay. I won’t hide, though,” Puck says before starting to laugh. “Maybe you should just text me before you start finding.”
“Maybe I’ll just keep you here forever and then I won’t have to look for you.”
“I get to be your kept boy? Cool.”
“I know, right?” Finn says. “Isn’t that awesome?”
“Definitely awesome.” Puck keeps his arms around Finn, the two of them lying there until Puck realizes that the come between them just feels a little gross and slimy. He sighs a little and opens his eyes. “Bet we have time to shower,” he says. “Then I could blow you again. If you wanted, I mean.” Puck grins. “Wouldn’t want to do anything you don’t want to.”
Finn smiles. “Yeah, but I think we should figure out a way to blow each other, ’cause that would be even better.”
Puck laughs. “I have good news for you, Finn. There’s already a way figured out. I’ll show you that as soon as we shower.”
After they shower—which involves about half cleaning up, half fooling around—and Puck shows Finn the awesomeness that is sixty-nining, they decide they might die of starvation if they don’t immediately go down to the kitchen to get something to eat. They make quadruple-decker sandwiches and pour themselves some pop, and eat in front of the TV, watching soap operas like they did when they were in fourth grade and both got chicken pox at the same time.
When their sandwiches are finished, Finn pulls Puck against him, and they watch a little more TV before Finn dozes off. He wakes up to two sounds: Ellen and Kurt making a tsk-ing noise at him.
“Oh, hey, Kurt,” Finn says, opening his eyes. “Is it that late already?”
“You two look like a couple of old men, falling asleep watching your stories,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “And did you eat all of the ham? Carole just bought that yesterday.”
“We needed it for our sandwiches. We needed really big sandwiches,” Finn says. “Really big sandwiches need lots of ham.”
Puck elbows Finn in the side gently. “We didn’t eat all of the ham. Why would I eat ham? Jewish, remember?”
“Yeah, and it’s not like we had time to get Chinese takeout,” Finn says, then immediately starts to laugh.
“Puck, I’ve seen you eat double bacon cheeseburgers on more than one occasion,” Kurt says, “and honestly, Finn, what’s so funny about Chinese takeout?”
“I could have recommitted myself to keeping kosher, you don’t know,” Puck says through his own laughter. Finn laughs even harder.
“Then we both agree on your need to be committed,” Kurt says.
“Hey, that’s not nice!” Finn says, abruptly stopping laughing.
“Oh, yeah,” Puck says slowly, sitting up straight. “Speaking of things we disagree on, Kurt… you’re wrong.”
“Oh? What am I wrong about?” Kurt asks, raising one eyebrow at Puck.
“Bisexuality,” Puck says flatly, and he glares at Kurt.
Kurt sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh, lord, don’t tell me that Rachel has somehow gotten you involved in trying to defend Blai—”
“I don’t give a fuck about Blaine,” Puck interrupts. “I’m talking about what Finn says you said, that people who are bi are just scared to come out.”
“It’s not like people really just wake up one day and decide, oh, after all this time of being gay, I’m going to suddenly start liking gir—”
“Me! I’m bi!” Finn blurts out, cutting Kurt off. Kurt turns to stare at him, his mouth open.
“Maybe we should have led up to that, Finn,” Puck mutters.
“It just came out,” Finn says, shrugging, then he turns to Kurt, adding, “See? Not scared!”
“Oh, Finn, no, you’re not bisexual,” Kurt says, sighing dramatically.
“I think Finn knows what he is better than you do,” Puck says, “and the people that are scared are the gay guys who run away when they find out you’re bi.” He keeps glaring at Kurt. “I think I know if I’m bi and not straight or gay.”
“Maybe you’re just opportunistic,” Kurt suggests.
“I’m for real bi,” Finn insists.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m opportunistic,” Puck says slowly. “Finn, do you think I’m just opportunistic?”
“No, I think you’re really awesome at sex, though,” Finn says.
“Finn Hudson!” Kurt yelps. “Tell me you did not have sex with him under some misguided attempt to ascertain if you’re gay or straight.”
“I didn’t!” Finn protests. “I had sex with him ’cause I wanted to, and it was awesome!”
“There are literally two bi people sitting in front of you, and you still don’t want to admit we exist?” Puck says incredulously. “And yeah, it was awesome.”
“Finn,” Kurt says, speaking directly to him and not acknowledging Puck. “Think about this for a minute. Have you ever been even remotely interested in another boy before today?”
“Yeah. At Rachel’s party,” Finn says. “We kind of hooked up there, too.”
Kurt rubs his temples. “Finn, before then, I mean,” he says, sounding like he’s trying to be patient. “Before Puck. Before whatever might have happened at Rachel’s party.”
“I have,” Puck says pointedly.
“That’s beside the point,” Kurt says, waving Puck away. “I’m talking to Finn.”
“You’re talking about bisexual people, so it’s not beside the point,” Puck insists, and he’s starting to look angry.
“Fine, both of you, then,” Kurt said. “That doesn’t change my point. Maybe you have been involved with people of the same sex, but Finn certainly hasn’t, and I just wonder why now?”
“Uh, because now is the time that he gave me a blowjob at Rachel’s party and I liked it,” Finn says.
“Hey, how much experience do you have with guys?” Puck says suddenly. “I know you’ve kissed Brittany. Maybe you’re the one who isn’t really gay or even bi, Kurt, since you haven’t been involved with any guys before now.”
“It’s not about who you’re involved with, it’s about who you’re attracted to!” Kurt says indignantly.
“Well, I’m attracted to Puck,” Finn says, “also also, the sex was really awesome.”
“You can probably stop telling him that,” Puck says. “I don’t think he actually believes you, anyway. And if it’s not about who you’re involved with, why does it matter that Finn hadn’t been involved with a guy before now? He’s only sixteen.”
“I don’t care if he believes me. I like to say it,” Finn says, grinning at Puck.
“He’s never said anything that led me to believe he was remotely attracted to men, either,” Kurt says.
“You put an extra ‘n’ on that word,” Puck says, in his too-innocent voice.
“Which word?” Finn whispers to Puck.
“ ‘Men’,” Puck says. “I’m pretty sure he meant that you never said anything that made Kurt think you were attracted to him.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Kurt says, getting huffy about it.
“Maybe you’re just the only dude I think is hot enough,” Finn says to Puck.
“I am pretty damn hot,” Puck agrees.
“Yeah, you are,” Finn says, grinning wider. “Especially when you put your—”
“Okay! Fine!” Kurt interrupts. “Oh my god. You’re bi. Fine, I believe you! Can we please skip the play-by-play.”
“I’m sorry that Blaine liking Rachel made you sad, Kurt,” Finn says. “It sucks. He’s dumb.”
Kurt’s face falls. “Well,” he says, but he doesn’t continue.
“You could start a club,” Puck suggests. “A club for people who don’t understand why someone else thought Rachel Berry was better for them.”
“Hey!” Finn says.
“I’m just saying,” Puck says with a shrug. “Sometimes it might be hard to comprehend.”
“But no, you’re right,” Kurt says. His shoulders sag. “Whether or not you and Puck are attracted to each other really doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Blaine chose Rachel Girl-With-Boobs Berry over me.”
“Maybe it’s one of those things that seems like it sucks, but turns out awesome,” Puck says. “Like, you’re going to meet someone else in a few months, but if you were still hung up on Blaine, you wouldn’t even say hi to this much better guy.”
“Yeah, somebody who doesn’t get drunk at parties and pick Rachel,” Finn says. “A better guy. A taller guy. Maybe one that plays sports or something. Ooh, like a cowboy, maybe!”
“A cowboy?” Kurt asks. “Really?”
“I’m going to ask you about that later,” Puck whispers to Finn, then turns to Kurt. “You know, if you got over the whole ‘bisexuals aren’t real’ thing, you’d double your playing field.”
“Cowboys,” Finn repeats.
“It just doesn’t make sense to me,” Kurt says.
Puck shrugs. “And limiting yourself to just one gender doesn’t make sense to me. One person, sure, but when you’re looking…” he trails off. “Guess it’s just one of those differences.”
“I guess so,” Kurt says, flopping onto the sofa next to Finn. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, either of you. Finn, if I’d had any idea, I never would have said that to you at all the other day.”
“It’s cool, as long as you know it’s not true,” Finn says. “And don’t say it to anybody else. Blaine’s not dumb because he might be bi. He’s dumb because he picked somebody else instead of you, and you’re way awesomer than most people.”
“He’s a little bit dumb because he makes really weird faces, too,” Puck says. He pauses and then looks at Finn with a grin. “Chinese takeout.”
“Well, it’s been a really good talk,” Finn says, as he starts to stand, grabbing Puck by the arm and pulling him up, too, “but we’ve gotta go upstairs for a little while, so we can talk about this some more later, okay?”
“Oh…kay?” Kurt says, looking very confused.
Puck grins and puts his arm over Finn’s shoulder. “Later, Kurt,” he says, then looks back at Finn. “Want to try something new?” he asks Finn quietly.
“Let’s start with something new, then go back over what we already learned, like finals prep,” Finn says. “That way, I can be sure I’m good at all of it.”
“That works,” Puck says with a nod. “So… tell me more about this cowboy thing. I still have the hat and the boots from sophomore year.”
Finn smiles hugely at Puck. “Well, it is mostly about the hat and the boots.”