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Puck grabs the milk from the refrigerator, along with a bowl and two boxes of cereal, sitting down at the kitchen table for either a big snack or his third meal of the day. He’s planning heading back over to Finn’s as soon as Finn calls and tells him Carole’s left for her date, but that’s at least another four hours, so in the meantime, he’ll eat cereal at home and probably end up playing Sorry! with Julie or something.

“Noah?” Ma calls. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Puck calls back through a mouthful of cereal.

“Are you going to be here this afternoon?”

“For a few hours, yeah,” Puck replies as Ma stops in the doorway. “Why?”

“In that case, you can stay here with Julie while I run a few errands,” Ma says, and Puck nods, not worrying about trying to argue. He hadn’t planned to go anywhere for a little while, anyway. “It’s November already, Noah, and it seems like Julie and I haven’t seen you very much since school began.” Puck shrugs silently, because he doesn’t think he was around that much during the summer. “Though I suppose football does take up a great deal of time.”

Puck probably shouldn’t be using the football excuse as much as he is, more because when football season’s over later in the month, he’ll have to come up with new excuses for being at Finn’s a lot. They could join the basketball team or something, but that sounds like too much effort to Puck, especially since he’s pretty sure it doesn’t add any prestige at school.

Not that they seem to need more prestige; they turn down invitations to parties, which only makes people think they’re even cooler, somehow or another. Puck figures they should go to one, eventually, and make a big deal about not staying long.

After he and Julie play Sorry! and watch some weird television show on Disney, their ma comes back and cooks dinner, which Puck eats, figuring he might manage to get two dinners.

“Are you leaving again?” Ma asks, when Puck goes upstairs and comes back down with a bag.

“Yeah.” Puck pauses. “Finn could come over here next week, I guess.” Yeah, Ma and Julie are lighter sleepers, but they’ve had to work on being more quiet, anyway.

“That’s fine,” Ma agrees, and Puck smirks a little to himself. If they can work something out where no one thinks anything’s too weird, all the better. Finn calls after another few minutes, and Puck tells him he’ll be over, with one detour.

The detour is standing outside the BP until someone buys Puck a case of beer, and then he walks the rest of the way to Finn’s and knocks on the side door, case of beer held away from any passing cars.

“Hey!” Finn says, opening the door for Puck.

“Hey.” Puck steps in and sets the beer down, grabbing Finn’s shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. “Conned a guy into buying us some beer.”

“Awesome!”

“Figured we could hide some and keep it for another time,” Puck explains, bending over and opening the box to pull out two bottles. “Your mom does have a bottle opener, right?”

“I dunno. I never open bottles,” Finn says. “You think she keeps it in the junk drawer?”

“Yeah, maybe so.” Puck shrugs and follows Finn to the kitchen. “How long did she say she’d be gone?”

“A few hours. Like, four hours or something like that.” Finn starts opening draws and pawing through them. “Do any of these things look like a bottle opener?” He holds up a plastic trout, two corn holders shaped like pickles, and a large metal key.

“The trout is,” Puck says. “At least I think it is. Try it.”

Finn turns the trout around and uses the metal square coming out of its tail to pop the lid off his bottle of beer. “Hey! It worked!” He tosses the trout to Puck.

“Awesome.” Puck opens his bottle and sets the trout on the counter. “Let’s take these upstairs, then.”

“Cool,” Finn says. “Your mom doesn’t need you to come home or anything, right?”

“I told her I might stay over. But you’re going to have to go over there next week, ‘cause eventually the football excuse is going to run out.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s cool,” Finn says. “We’ll have to be quiet for a night, I guess. Weird to think about football being over soon.”

“Yeah.” Puck heads up the stairs, half-turned back towards Finn. “Didn’t figure we’d do basketball, unless you suddenly liked it more than I thought you did.”

“Just ‘cause I’m tall, doesn’t mean I’m good at basketball,” Finn grumbles.

“Yeah, I know, dork,” Puck agrees, sitting down on Finn’s bed. “Hey, you think we’ll ever get Kurt to reciprocate?”

“I dunno. For a gay dude, he’s kinda scared of dicks,” Finn says as he sits down next to Puck.

“Do you think he’s not really gay? I mean he seems to like the idea of dicks and all.” Puck frowns. “But yeah, he is.”

“He doesn’t seem to mind it when we jerk him off, and that’s pretty gay, you know?”

“Yeah. Maybe he just doesn’t like our dicks?”

“That’s stupid. Why wouldn’t he like our dicks?” Finn frowns and shakes his head. “No, it can’t be that. We have awesome dicks.”

“I don’t know. Maybe...” Puck frowns, too. “Maybe he’s waiting to get a boyfriend or something.”

Finn frown deepens. “I... don’t think I like that idea very much.”

“Yeah, I don’t really either,” Puck admits. “But it could happen.”

“But if Kurt gets a boyfriend, then he’ll want to hang out with his boyfriend all the time,” Finn says. “Like how I want to hang out with you all the time, and you want to hang out with me all the time.”

“Yeah. I mean, Kurt or Mercedes either one could get a boyfriend. I guess it’d just be easier for Mercedes. But what if either one of them had a boyfriend that didn’t like us?” Puck sighs and takes a long gulp of his beer and scowls. “I bet if Kurt had a boyfriend he wouldn’t let us jerk him off or kiss him anymore, either.”

“Yeah, that would suck,” Finn agrees, then he looks up quickly at Puck. “That would suck, right? It would bother you, too. Right?”

“Yeah, it’d suck,” Puck confirms. “You think that’s what it is? That he wants a boyfriend?”

“Maybe,” Finn says, shrugging.

Puck takes another drink of his beer, still scowling. “We should call him and ask him.”

“Yeah, we should. After all those handjobs, he should give us a straight up answer,” Finn says.

“I’ll go get the cordless while you dial,” Puck says, standing up. He runs down the stairs and picks it up, hitting the on button as he goes back up the stairs.

“Are you in your room?” Finn says. “Like, alone in your room.”

“Yes, I’m in my room. Why?” asks Kurt.

“We had a question for you. Or two questions, I guess,” Puck says, returning to Finn’s room and sitting back on the bed.

“Okay. Ask me your questions,” Kurt says.

Puck exchanges a look with Finn. “So... do you not like our dicks? I mean, why not?”

Kurt makes a few of his squeaky, gaspy flustered noises. “I—what? What are you talking about?”

“Dude, our dicks,” Finn says. “Why don’t you like ‘em?”

“I—I— why would you say that?” Kurt asks.

“You never want to touch them,” Puck points out. “We figured one possibility was you just didn’t like ‘em. We threw out the idea that you weren’t actually gay, though. Pretty sure you are.”

“Yes, I’m—but I don’t understand,” Kurt says. “I thought...”

“Thought what?” Puck nudges Finn. “Do you know what he thought?”

“No clue,” Finn answers, shrugging.

“I thought you didn’t want me to,” Kurt says.

“Huh?” Puck knows he probably looks confused. “So it’s not that you’re waiting for a boyfriend or something, either?”

“A boyfriend would be nice, but that doesn’t have anything to do with me not liking your, uh. Your dicks.”

Puck frowns, catching Finn’s eye. “Nice, huh?”

“Nice how?” Finn asks.

“Well, it would be nice to be somebody’s number one choice, I guess,” Kurt answers. “Like how you two are for each other.”

Finn frowns at Puck. “I’m still not stepping aside so you can have Finn,” Puck says, mostly jokingly. “We’re not trying to make you feel... unappreciated.”

“I understand about the two of you, I really do,” Kurt says, “and I like Friday nights. I’m not trying to say I don’t.” He huffs loudly into the phone, and he continues in a slightly pitchier voice, “I’m not explaining this very well.”

“But you can’t get a boyfriend,” Puck tries to explain. “Because he wouldn’t like us and you wouldn’t even kiss us then.” He looks at Finn and mouths “Right?”

Finn nods his head vigorously. “Right. Your boyfriend wouldn’t let you do that, probably.”

“I bet he wouldn’t really appreciate the blushing, either,” Puck says, frowning. “Which is dumb of him.”

“He probably wouldn’t even let you watch,” Finn adds. “This guy’s kind of a dick, dude. You shouldn’t go out with this guy.”

“Finn,” Kurt says. “There isn’t a guy. Remember?”

“But there could be a guy,” Puck insists. “And that would suck.”

“I don’t think that’s something you really have to worry about, since we comprise a hundred percent of McKinley’s gay male population,” Kurt says with a long sigh.

“But if there were another gay dude, you would want to be with him, not us,” Finn says.

“And McKinley’s not the only high school around here,” Puck says darkly.

“There’s that place in Toledo my mom keeps trying to get us to go to,” Finn continues. “You could meet gay dudes there! You might go there just to meet gay dudes!”

“Finn, Puck, I think the two of you need to calm down,” Kurt says.

“I’m calm!” Finn insists, a little too loudly.

“We’re as calm as the situation calls for,” Puck says firmly.

“Puck,” Kurt begins, and his voices changes to his flirty voice. “Are you two... jealous?”

“No!” Finn says. “Maybe!”

Puck frowns at the phone. “You’re our Kurt.”

Your Kurt?” Kurt asks.

“Well, yeah, duh,” Finn says. “You’re our Kurt and we don’t want you running off with some stupid dude you meet in Toledo who, like, doesn’t even like us and won’t let us jerk you off anymore. So don’t do that.”

“Exactly,” Puck says triumphantly. “Don’t do that.”

“I have no plans to go to Toledo,” Kurt says. “I highly doubt I’d meet someone who wanted me for a boyfriend, even if I did, and—your Kurt?”

“Yeah, ours,” Puck says. “And those people in Toledo are pretty stupid, then.”

Kurt huffs again. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to—there’s just no reason for why you get to be jealous of an imaginary boyfriend. I don’t get jealous of you or Finn.”

“I don’t actually believe that, and sure there is. We already explained that,” Puck says. “He wouldn’t like us and he wouldn’t like Friday nights or showers after practice, ever.”

“But he might let me do more than watch!” Kurt replies, his voice shrill. “Not that he even exists!”

“You’re the one that doesn’t like our dicks,” Puck says, sounding reasonable, or at least what he thinks is reasonable.

“I think the lines between what you and Finn do and what we all do together have been very clearly drawn,” Kurt says. “And you and Finn do quite a lot without me there.”

“Drawn by you,” Puck says.

“Drawn by you,” Kurt retorts. “You and your ‘stop trying to flirt with Finn’.”

Finn puts his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and whispers, “He’s getting really mad.” His eyebrows squish together and his mouth twists up momentarily before he sighs and says, “Puck, I think you’ve gotta fuck him or something.”

“He wouldn’t want that,” Puck says, shaking his head.

“Wouldn’t want what?” Kurt asks.

Puck doesn’t answer Kurt immediately, still looking at Finn. “You and I both know he just puts up with me ‘cause of you.”

“Hey, that’s not true!” Finn says.

“Excuse me? I do not!” Kurt says, even louder than before.

“See? Kurt says it’s not true!”

“You’re the one he wanted,” Puck insists. “You’re the one he’s always flirting with.”

“He flirts with you, too, all the time,” Finn says. “And he looks at your ass anytime you’re naked!”

“Even Mike Chang looks at my ass when I’m naked, ‘cause it’s a great ass,” Puck says. “He does the whole eyelash thing with you.”

“‘Cause, dude, the eyelash thing works with me. You’d never fall for the eyelash thing!”

“I don’t do an eyelash thing,” Kurt pipes up.

“Shh, I’m arguing with Puck right now,” Finn says into the receiver. “But come on, Puck. The blushing and the ‘oh I’m so shy’ thing’s what works for you. You don’t need him to flirt at you like that!”

Puck frowns. “I don’t think he blushes on command, but I’m pretty sure he can flutter his eyelashes on command.”

“I like both of you!” Kurt squawks into the phone. “I like you both!”

“Then why do you need a boyfriend?” Puck demands.

“Because both of you like each other more than you like me!” Kurt blurts out.

Finn seems startled by Kurt’s outburst, nearly dropping the phone. “What do we say?” he whispers to Puck.

“I don’t know,” Puck whispers back, covering the phone with his hand. “I mean, he’s—he’s not—” Puck breaks off, because he’s not entirely sure if he was going to say ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ for what Kurt isn’t. He had thought they were going at Kurt’s pace, or something, but apparently not, and Puck does know he’s upset by the idea of not having either of them.

“I don’t know either,” Finn says. “I don’t want him to... well, I mean, I guess it’s not really breaking up with us, is it? But I don’t want him to do that.”

“No. You’re mine and vice versa, but he is ours,” Puck says, then uncovers the phone. “Can your—no, shit, he’s out with Mrs. H.”

“What?” Kurt asks. “What do you want me to do?”

“Well, I was going to say to get your dad to drive you over here, but that’s not going to work,” Puck explains.

“Is there anybody you can call to drive you?” Finn asks.

Kurt doesn’t answer at first, for long enough that Puck starts to wonder if he’s hung up or passed out or something. Eventually, though, Kurt sighs and says, “Give me about fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. We’ll open a beer for you,” Puck says.

“Maybe leave it in the refrigerator until I get there,” Kurt suggests.

“Fifteen minutes or I’m... I’m... calling the cops!” Finn says.

Puck snorts. “Dork.”

“It’s all I could think of!” Finn protests.

“I think he hung up already,” Puck says, looking at the cordless. “We should go wait for him downstairs.” They head downstairs, and Puck does open a beer for Kurt, plus another one each for he and Finn, before they sit on the couch and wait.

Seventeen minutes after Kurt hung up, the doorbell rings. Finn hops up like a big excited puppy.

“I bet that’s Kurt!”

“Better not be Mormons,” Puck says. “Or the other ones that come around.” He stands up, following Finn to the door. When Finn opens the door, Kurt’s standing there, and Mercedes’s dad’s car is backing out of the driveway.

“Thanks, Mr. Jones!” Finn shouts.

“I’ll have you know I had to promise her my fawn angora sweater for this,” Kurt says.

“Is it made out of deer or does it have pictures of deer?” Finn asks.

“I hope it’s pictures,” Puck says, frowning. “You shouldn’t kill baby animals for clothing.”

“It’s neither,” Kurt says. “Am I allowed to come in?”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” Finn says, stepping out of Kurt’s way.

“And I opened you a beer anyway,” Puck says, gesturing to the living room.

“So, are we having this conversation in the living room?” Kurt asks, as he walks in the direction Puck gestures.

Puck shrugs. “Maybe we should.” He’s pretty sure that they wouldn’t end up talking very long if they went straight to Finn’s room.

“I guess I’ll drink that beer, then,” Kurt says. Once he sits down on the sofa, Puck and Finn flank him. “What are we talking about?”

“You,” Puck says, nudging him with his shoulder and using the motion to scoot closer to Kurt. “All of us.”

“And how you’re ours,” Finn says.

“So you and Puck keep saying,” Kurt says. He holds up his beer, almost like he’s toasting something, and then takes a big swallow of it.

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s true,” Finn insists.

“Do you not want to be?” Puck asks.

“I just think it’s not... you’re each other’s,” Kurt says. “And sometimes you get bored, maybe.”

“You think we’re only into you ‘cause we get bored?” Puck asks incredulously.

“Maybe?”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Finn says. “And that kind of hurts my feelings.”

“Yeah, we’re not boring,” Puck agrees. “We’re—I mean, we’ve known each other a really long time.”

“I know. What the two of you have is special,” Kurt says, then takes another chug of his beer.

“It doesn’t mean that we don’t like you,” Puck points out. “And we were kinda going at your pace.”

“But it’s very clear you don’t feel the same way about me, so I’ve tried not to have any expectations,” Kurt says. “Besides, the two of you are also a lot more experienced than I am. I don’t exactly have much to offer besides being your viewing audience.”

Puck looks at Kurt skeptically. “Yeah, we have all of, I don’t know. Three months’ head start?” He snorts. “It’d be pretty weird if either one of us thought about you exactly the same as we think about each other.”

“Yeah, Puck’s Puck and you’re you,” Finn says. He still looks and sounds a little sulky over the ‘bored’ thing.

“Exactly.” Puck nods. “Like you’re all chirpy, and Finn isn’t.”

“Chirpy? I don’t think that’s a compliment,” Kurt says.

“No, it is,” Finn says. “He likes it. We both like it.”

“Yeah,” Puck says, nodding again. “It’s awesome.” He grins. “Want me to show you?”

“Show him,” Finn urges.

“I don’t think I actually chi—”

Puck brings his mouth down on Kurt’s, still grinning, and slides his tongue along Kurt’s lips and into his mouth until Kurt’s chirped more than once, and then he pulls back with a smirk. “See? You chirp.”

“And it’s hot,” Finn adds.

“Oh. Okay,” Kurt says. “Really?”

“Really.” Puck looks consideringly at Kurt for a moment, then grabs Kurt’s hand. “You want me to prove it?” Kurt nods his head slowly. Puck grins and leans down to kiss Kurt again, moving Kurt’s hand on top of his dick at the same time. Kurt makes his chirpy noise again, jumping a little, but he doesn’t pull his hand away. His fingers curl the slightest bit.

“Let’s go to my room,” Finn whines.

Puck runs his tongue over Kurt’s lips a final time and nods. “Probably a good idea,” he agrees. “Kurt?”

Kurt nods again. Finn stands and puts his hands out, pulling both Puck and Kurt to their feet and then practically dragging them towards the stairs. Puck chuckles a little, following Finn. As soon as they get into Finn’s room, Puck kicks the door closed with a little more force than he intends.

Finn immediately pulls off his own shirt, dropping it on the floor and looking at Puck and Kurt expectantly. Puck chuckles again and pulls off his shirt, then puts his hand on the back of Kurt’s neck. “Can we help you?”

“I like to help,” Finn informs Kurt, spinning him to face Puck and putting his hands on Kurt’s thin, silver belt and starting to unbuckle it. Kurt nods and closes his eyes halfway, leaning back against Finn for a moment.

Puck runs his hands down Kurt’s chest, trying to figure out how in the world Kurt’s sweater fastens. “You can talk to us, you know,” Puck says, his fingers finally finding a couple of tiny hooks.

“I—” Kurt begins, his voice even higher than usual. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You can tell us this is hot,” Finn suggests. “Or that we’re hot. That’s always cool to hear.” Kurt’s belt unfastened, Finn’s hands move to the zipper of Kurt’s pants, sliding it down. “You’re hot.”

Kurt blushes bright pink. “This is. And you are.”

“If you wanted to consider a couch potato life for the winter, though, that’d be hot, too,” Puck says, smirking. He manages to get the sweater unfastened, and moves his hands to the top of Kurt’s shirt. “You know that your clothes are complicated, right?”

“Yes.”

Finn starts to push Kurt’s pants down off his hips. “His pants weren’t so bad. The belt buckle was kinda small.”

“I’ll have to take the belt when he has the skinny ones, maybe,” Puck offers. He finishes unbuttoning Kurt’s shirt and pushes it and the sweater off Kurt’s shoulders. “Do you want to help us?”

“Yes,” Kurt chirps, his head still tipped back against Finn’s chest, even as he moves his shoulders so Puck can undress him. When his shirt and sweater hit the ground, Kurt opens his eyes and reaches hesitantly for the front of Puck’s jeans. Puck nods, watching Kurt’s hands and his face. Kurt’s blush deepens as he undoes the button and then the zipper of Puck’s jeans, tugging down on the waistband. Puck wriggles, trying to help Kurt out a little, and the jeans eventually slide down to the floor.

“Go ahead,” Puck says. “Then you can help Finn.” Kurt reaches out, brushing the pads of his fingers across the head of Puck’s dick, then down the shaft in a too-light touch. “You’re not going to break it, I promise,” Puck adds.

“Just put your hand around,” Finn says, his mouth close to Kurt’s ear. “Like we do for you.”

Kurt shivers slightly, then he wraps his hand around Puck’s dick, his eyes searching Puck’s face. Puck grins. “His hands are a lot softer than yours, Finn.”

Finn laughs. “Yeah, but mine’re bigger.”

Kurt moves his hand slowly on Puck’s dick, stroking down the length of it. “So you like my dick after all?” Puck asks, still grinning. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, he does,” Finn says. He slides a hand from Kurt’s hip to his dick. “You see how hard he is? He loves your dick.”

“Yeah, I see,” Puck agrees. “You probably want to suck it, don’t you? But we don’t want to make him pass out.”

Finn shrugs. “I like what I like.”

Kurt moves his hand a little more firmly, running his thumb over the tip of Puck’s dick on every upward stroke. “That wasn’t a no, by the way,” Puck says to Kurt. “And that feels really awesome, but you should get Finn out of those jeans now.”

“Yeah, I like that plan!” Finn says, giving Kurt’s dick a gentle squeeze before turning Kurt around to face him. Puck steps close behind Kurt, his dick pressed against the top of Kurt’s still nicely round ass.

“Soft back here, too,” Puck mutters into Kurt’s ear, wrapping his arms across Kurt’s chest, under his arms. Kurt’s hands move and Finn’s jeans drop to the floor, followed by his boxers, then Finn has Kurt pulled up into a kiss. Before Finn ends the kiss, he reaches around Kurt to run his hand over Puck’s dick where it’s pressed against Kurt’s ass.

“Yeah,” Finn says, sounding happy. “Really soft.”

“Sit down,” Puck says to Finn. “Let Kurt sit on you, maybe.”

“Oh, yeah, that would be awesome,” Finn says. He sits on the bed, almost in a kneeling position, legs tucked underneath himself, and he pulls Kurt down onto his lap. Kurt’s legs fall slightly to the sides of Finn’s legs, and Finn’s dick is obviously pressed up against Kurt’s ass.

“That is a really nice view,” Puck says slowly, taking in the way that Kurt is almost displayed in front of him. He climbs on the bed in front of Kurt, reaching for Kurt’s dick. “You two look really hot.”

“Yeah, and you always look hot,” Finn says. He takes Kurt’s hand in his and puts both their hands on Puck’s dick, wrapping his hand around Kurt’s and guiding it.

Puck moves his hand slowly on Kurt’s dick. “You’re gonna make me come,” he says softly. “That’ll be awesome.” He tightens his fingers just barely, increasing the speed of his hand. Kurt squeaks and chirps and squirms, grinding down against Finn in the process.

“Oh, fuck, do that more,” Finn says. He parts his knees more, so Puck can move a little closer. “Kiss him, Puck. I wanna watch you kissing him.”

“You’re gonna make us both come,” Puck corrects himself, leaning forward and kissing Kurt hard, his mouth open against Kurt’s lips. His hand keeps moving on Kurt’s dick, and he can feel Kurt squirming against Finn. Finn and Kurt’s joined hands continue stroking Puck’s dick, and Puck can see Finn leaning his head down to kiss Kurt’s ear and neck.

“This is so hot,” Finn says. “Kurt’s ass is so soft and hot, Puck, it feels really good.” He moans quietly, thrusting up against Kurt enough to make Kurt bounce in place on Finn’s lap. “God, Puck, I’m gonna come all over his ass if he keeps doing that.”

“Oh my god,” Kurt chirps against Puck’s mouth. His fingers tighten on Puck’s dick of their own accord, moving faster, Finn’s hand barely guiding him now.

“Better keep doing that,” Puck whispers against Kurt’s cheek. “Don’t you want that? I do.”

Kurt make a sort of squeaky noise, and Finn lets out a low whine, bouncing Kurt again. “Oh shit,” Finn says. “Oh, oh shit, Puck, shit, he feels so good, god, I wanna fuck him, Puck, I wanna fuck him.”

“He’d be so tight for you,” Puck says, his lips on Kurt’s ear now. “Wouldn’t you be, Kurt? So hot, too.”

“Oh,” Kurt breathes.

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “Shit, I’m gonna come now, fuck, I’m—” He breaks off into a whimpering cry, thrusting up against Kurt. Puck reaches around with his other hand, smearing Finn’s come across Kurt’s lower back.

“Made Finn come already,” Puck says to Kurt. “Your turn.” Finn’s free hand joins Puck’s on Kurt’s dick, and Kurt starts to come all over their hands almost immediately, Kurt letting out little chirpy cries. “Yeah, just like that,” Puck says, pushing forward into Kurt’s hand. “So hot.” He thrusts twice more, then comes, some of it spurting onto Kurt’s chest.

After a moment passes, Puck lies down, pulling Finn and Kurt with him and rearranging them until he’s satisfied. Finn and Puck are next to each other, shoulders pressed together, Kurt is half on top of each of them, and Puck puts his outside arm across Kurt’s back.

“That was pretty awesome,” Finn says, after they’ve been lying there for a few minutes.

Puck grins and then chuckles. “Yeah, it was.” He tightens his arm enough that his fingers hang off the other side of Kurt, the tips brushing against Finn’s chest. “Hey Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“What do you want? Like... no holds barred. Your fantasy or whatever, not worrying about whatever lines you thought there were.”

“Oh. Hmm.” Kurt turns a little pinkish again. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“At all?” Puck says skeptically. He grins and moves his shoulder against Finn’s. “I think the blushing means he’s lying, what about you?”

“I think the saying he hasn’t thought about it means he’s lying,” Finn answers.

Puck laughs. “Good point. C’mon, Kurt. Tell us.” He brushes his fingers against Finn again, trailing them up Kurt’s side and then in a small circle on his back. “Finn already told us his, so it’s your turn.”

“No, I can’t!” Kurt protests. He turns his face against Finn’s chest, the back of his neck reddening.

“Please,” Puck wheedles, drawing his fingers up Kurt’s back, through the now-sticky come, and up to Kurt’s neck. He runs his thumb over the reddest part. “I’ll tell you mine, after.”

“Tell me yours first,” Kurt mumbles into Finn’s chest.

“I don’t want to steal any ideas,” Puck says, lifting his head up enough to kiss the side of Kurt’s neck. “I can improvise if you steal mine, see.”

“Or you’ll says something really mundane and I’ll feel like more of a freak,” Kurt counters. “And Finn’s doesn’t count. He was about to come.”

“Yeah, I totally was,” Finn agrees. “It was awesome.”

“It still counts, though,” Puck says. “You meant it, right, dork?”

“Hell yeah. I still want to, just I’d need like fifteen minutes or something.”

“See?” Puck says triumphantly. “And you know me, Kurt. I’m not mundane.” He pauses. “Seriously, earlier we were bored, and now I’m mundane?”

Kurt lifts his head and turns to look at Puck. “That’s not what I said!”

“It was close,” Puck insists. He moves his hand from Kurt’s neck to Kurt’s cheek. “Is your fantasy that dirty or whatever? You’ve already had a threesome.”

“You’re just trying to make me blush again,” Kurt says, somehow managing to both glare and blush at the same time.

“He likes it when you blush,” Finn says. He pats Kurt gently on the back of the head a couple of times, then ruffles his hair. “It’s okay.”

Puck grins unrepentantly. “Yep. I do.”

Kurt turns his face against Finn’s chest again and mumbles something that ends with “up.”

“Up?” Puck repeats. “Finn, could you tell what he said?”

“My chest doesn’t have ears,” Finn says, shaking his head.

“I like your chest without them,” Puck says. “Kurt, repeat that?”

“I said I...” Kurt blushes more fiercely and drops his voice. “Sometimes I think I might like to be blindfolded and tied up.”

“Yeah?” Puck smirks. “That could be fun.”

“Feet, too, or just hands?” Finn asks.

“Just hands. Above my head, wrists crossed,” Kurt says.

“Are we talking scarves or ropes?” Puck asks, running his hand down Kurt’s back.

“I bet scarves,” Finn says.

Kurt bites his lip as he looks at Puck again. “Oh. Uh.”

“Not scarves,” Puck guesses.

“No,” Kurt confesses. “I was thinking more like, uh. Handcuffs or manacles.”

“We could do that sometime.” Puck rests his hand on Kurt’s ass. “With a little preparation ahead of time. Right, Finn?”

“Sure. I don’t know where we could get handcuffs, but, oh! Hey, we could totally use belts to make those manacle things!” Finn says. “I bet I could use some of the tools from woodshop and make ‘em.”

“See, we’ve got you covered,” Puck says. “Not so bad, right?”

“Your turn now,” Kurt insists.

“I was thinking about all three of us. It’d take a while, so we could all rotate being in the middle,” Puck explains. “Getting fucked, giving a blow job, and the other two kissing. You know?”

“Oh!” Kurt squeaks. He puts his hand over his face, but not enough to disguise how red his cheeks are.

“Yeah?” Finn asks. “All three of us?”

“Yeah. We’d have to have most of a day or something, probably,” Puck says. “Maybe over the break.” He smirks at Kurt. “I think that was a good ‘oh’.”

Kurt nods without uncovering his face. Finn pets Kurt’s head again, grinning over at Puck.

“Puck was right, see?” Finn says. “You’re definitely our Kurt.”

“Exactly,” Puck says, nodding. “You should stay over tonight. You can tell your dad when Mrs. H gets back. And don’t say anything about not having clothes for tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Kurt says. “It’ll be alright with her if I’m over here two nights in a row?”

“Puck was over here almost every night over the summer,” Finn says.

“Yep. We just have to be quiet once she’s back,” Puck says.

“It takes practice. Well, or Puck’s hand over your mouth, that works too,” Finn tells Kurt.

“Oh my god,” Kurt says.

“If you need help, we could both use our hands,” Puck offers.

“That wastes a whole extra hand, though. His mouth isn’t that big,” Finn points out. “We could trade off, maybe.”

“Yeah, that’s true. What do you think, Kurt?”

“I... either is fine.”

“Just fine?” Puck teases, his hand squeezing Kurt’s ass gently. “Not good?”

“Either is good!” Kurt says, chirping a little.

Puck grins and leans up enough to kiss Kurt, then wriggles to the side a little. “I need to hide the beer in case Mrs. H gets back early,” Puck says, because even if it wasn’t his idea, which it was, he’d still take the fall. He sits up and slides off the bed, walking towards the bedroom door. Maybe Kurt’s right, that they’re not really being fair, but Puck and Finn were right, too, that he’s their Kurt, and Puck pauses as he opens the door. “We’ll get presentable after that. You two make out or something while I stash the beer.” He stops and looks back over his shoulder, trying to catch Finn’s eye.

Finn glances down at the top of Kurt’s head, then back up at Puck, raising his eyebrows and barely shrugging his shoulders. Puck nods, shrugging back at Finn, who nods back. Puck heads down the stairs then, realizing too late he should have put on jeans to sneak the bottles into the neighbors’ recycling. Instead, he puts the empties back in the case, puts the trout away, and decides to just lug the beer upstairs and hide it in the back of Finn’s closet. He pauses outside the door for a second, not sure how he’s going to feel, and then pushes it open silently.

They aren’t really making out so much as just kissing, Kurt still on top of Finn and Finn’s hands holding Kurt’s head as they kiss. Puck still isn’t sure what he feels, watching the two of them kissing gently. It’s kind of awesome to watch, more than he thought it would be, but he does feel kind of left out. The weirdest part, though, is that he’s not sure if he’s wanting to be where Kurt is or where Finn is, and Puck stands there for probably close to thirty seconds before sets the beer down out of sight of the door and then walks quietly to the bed, reaching a hand out for both of them.

Finn releases Kurt’s head to grab Puck’s hand and pull him towards them, turning his face towards Puck so they can kiss. Puck kisses him, open-mouthed, nipping at Finn’s lower lip mid-kiss and again as he pulls away.

“One of you two should tell me how long we have,” Puck says, his other hand still on Kurt and his lips just barely above Finn’s.

“Uh, like, a while probably?” Finn says. “Maybe?”

“Dad said he’d be home between eleven and eleven-thirty,” Kurt says. “I could call him and tell him not to worry about hurrying, because I’m over here.”

“He’s smart,” Puck says. “If we’re really quiet we can pretend to be asleep by the time Mrs. H gets back.”

“Lie back down,” Kurt says.

Puck grins and does just that, lying on his side and pressing up against the two of them. “You just want us to lie here so you’ll have something nice to look at while you call your dad.”

“My phone is somewhere in my clothes, which are all on the floor,” Kurt points out. “Hopefully not getting too wrinkled.”

“We undressed you good,” Finn says proudly.

“Who cares if they’re wrinkled?” Puck asks, smirking at Finn and then Kurt. “Only place you have to wear ‘em is home tomorrow.”

“The sweater is dry-clean only.”

“Does that mean you can’t wear it tomorrow?” Puck asks. “On second thought, I think Finn’s got some outgrown sweatshirts around still, you could just wear one of those home.”

“Aww, hey, that would be kinda cool,” Finn says, ruffling Kurt’s hair again. “Puck wears my shirts all the time.”

“Yeah, you have us in tighter jeans and those sweaters, even,” Puck says. “You can dress down a little for us.”

“I suppose it doesn’t hurt while we’re here,” Kurt concedes.

“The McKinley Titans one,” Finn says.

“Yeah, and no worrying about your hair, either, until you’re just about to leave,” Puck says, grinning.

Finn grins back and adds, “Or maybe after you leave.”

“It’s in such a nice, what was that word you used?” Puck says to Kurt. “Oh, yeah. Disarray.”

Kurt automatically reaches up and starts trying to smooth his hair, and Finn immediately musses it again as soon as Kurt moves his hand away. When Kurt goes to smooth it again, Finn catches Kurt’s hand.

“Stop messing it up!” Finn says. “I just got it how I want it!”

“Yeah, Kurt, he just got it fixed,” Puck agrees, reaching his hand out and putting it on the back of Kurt’s neck. “It goes with your blush.”

“Fine,” Kurt huffs.

“You’re getting him all riled up,” Finn says, sounding like he’s fighting the urge to laugh.

"Yeah, and you can't tell me you don't like the expression on his face, too," Puck argues, smirking at Kurt.

“Yeah, I like him all riled up and so do you,” Finn says.

“Do the two of you have money riding on who can push me to the greatest emotional extremes?” Kurt asks.

"It's cute," Puck says, nodding at Finn. "That's a good thing. At least we think so."

“Yeah,” Finn agrees.

“I think it’s entirely possible the two of you are going to result in my death before I graduate,” Kurt says, letting out a dramatic sigh as he rolls partially onto Puck.

“Nah, we wouldn’t let anything happen to our Kurt,” Puck says, repositioning his arms slightly. “Anyway, if you two keep nagging me, I might actually graduate.”

“And then we can all go to college together,” Finn says. “Or maybe we can, like, start a business or something. We could, uh... well, we’ve still got a few years to figure it out.”

“We should do it in a big city,” Puck says. “Or at least a bigger city than Lima.”

“Paris,” Kurt says. He traces a design on Puck’s chest with one finger. “I’ll be a fashion designer and you can be my male models.”

“Didn’t you say we weren’t skinny enough?” Puck says, then looks sideways at Finn. “Didn’t he say I wasn’t tall enough?”

“I’ve reconsidered the whole thing, and I think designing clothes for more masculine forms could be a valid career option.”

“Uh, can you say that again in English?” Finn asks.

“He means that we’re hot,” Puck explains. “And that he wants to play dress-up with us.”

“Awesome. Nothing sparkly or fluffy, though,” Finn says.

“No, you’re definitely more traditional,” Kurt agrees.

“That’s me, traditional!”

“He’s that thing we were talking about in English,” Puck says. “The boy-next-door type.”

“It’s the freckles,” Finn says, pointing to his nose.

“You do have that wholesome Midwestern boy look,” Kurt says.

“He burns easily,” Puck informs Kurt. “I had to make sure he didn’t burn when we were sneaking into the Gordons’ pool all summer.”

“Puck did a good job making sure I didn’t, though,” Finn says. “He’s really good at remembering that stuff.”

Puck grins. “Someone has to keep us all out of trouble.”

 

Puck sighs and shakes his head once when he heads towards their lunch table on Tuesday. The cheerleaders, the ones Mercedes had introduced to them back in September, sit with them every couple of weeks, trying to flirt with varying degrees of awkwardness. Finn remains oblivious to most of Quinn’s come-ons, or at least does a really good job of acting oblivious, Kurt slowly edges away from Brittany as lunch continues, and Puck usually tries to confuse Santana by flirting and then immediately acting disinterested.

Still, Puck doesn’t necessarily like the lunches with them, even though he knows they’re probably good to be seen with from time to time, and he sits down next to Mercedes with a slight roll of his eyes, which makes Mercedes hide a laugh. “Hey, ‘Cedes. Hey, girls,” Puck greets them with a nod. Quinn nods back almost dismissively, Brittany waves, and Santana immediately slides her chair right up next to Puck’s other side, which makes Finn glare and set his tray down a little too hard.

“Are you having a bad day?” Quinn asks, clearly trying to sound sympathetic.

“Santana’s in my seat,” Finn says. “And it’s fish day, which pretty much sucks.”

“Don’t worry about all of that,” Quinn says. “Oh, I know! After Cheerios practice, and after your football practice, my mom could drive you and I to the Lima Bean.”

“I have to practice Spanish with Kurt. Puck’s gonna hold up the flash cards for us,” Finn says. He pokes his fish with his fork. “Puck, is your fish still alive on the inside? Mine still looks alive on the inside.”

“I’m trying not to think about it,” Puck admits. “Eat more corn and... whatever the green stuff is.” He looks over at Santana briefly and shrugs, getting a forkful of the green stuff.

“Kurt knows how to French,” Brittany says, frowning at Finn. “How to speak French. How can he practice Spanish with you?”

“He’s in my Spanish class. He’s gonna take French next semester, ‘cause Mr. Schuester says olé too much,” Finn says. “But I like all the olé.”

“We’ll go get Mexican after the game, maybe,” Puck says, smirking. “Or take it back to Kurt’s.”

“Everyone getting Mexican food after the game would be fun!” Quinn says, and Puck feels like he should slap himself. He figures they could always tell everyone else a different Mexican place, maybe.

“Don’t go to Bandido’s,” Santana says. “My abuela says that the cousin of one of the ladies in her bridge club works in the kitchen, and they have rats.”

“Too bad, ‘cause I was thinking we should go to Bandido’s,” Finn says, narrowing his eyes at Santana. “I guess it’ll just be me, Puck, and Kurt, then.”

Quinn outright pouts for a few seconds, and Puck takes a big bite of fish so he doesn’t laugh. Brittany just looks sad, though Puck’s not sure if that’s about being left out, the Mexican food, or possibly the rats in the kitchen.

“Kurt, you should get your dad to get extra salsa and chips,” Puck says.

“Cheese dip! We can warm it up in the microwave,” Finn says.

“And I solemnly swear only to sneak in beer if you tell me to,” Puck says soberly, which makes Quinn titter.

“Would I ever tell you to do such a thing?” Kurt asks, putting one hand to his chest with the fakest insulted look on his face that Puck’s ever seen.

“Only if you were sure there weren’t witnesses,” Puck retorts, smirking. Kurt gasps in mock offense, which makes Finn start laughing.

“Aww, you hurt his feelings, Puck!” Finn says. “Now say something nice to him.”

“But you’re very, very smart, so you would be absolutely certain about the lack of witnesses,” Puck says obediently, nodding at Kurt.

“That’s better,” Kurt says.

“It’s good you have such nice friends!” Brittany says to Kurt, smiling at him and possibly trying to move closer to him. Kurt grimaces and leans away towards Finn. Pucks grins and puts one hand up to his face, mouthing ‘protect him!’ at Finn. Finn grins and puts his arm around Kurt, doing the one-armed dude-hug.

“So,” Finn says loudly, “did you girls see Kurt’s awesome kicks on Friday? ‘Cause they were awesome.”

“No offense to the two of you,” Mercedes says, “but those kicks are the only highlights of our team. Does anyone else even practice?”

Puck shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I thought we’d do like, scrimmages or something but it’s always laps and drills and whistles.”

“I can run five miles now!” Finn says proudly.

“Sometimes he forgets he’s having us run laps,” Kurt says. “We just run and run for a half-hour.”

“Too busy watching for that guidance counselor,” Puck says, nodding a little. “The one that’s always with the curly-headed teacher.”

“I call her Dr. Pocket Red,” Finn says. “She looks like a cartoon princess.”

“She does!” Brittany agrees, almost squealing. “Princess Pillsbury! You’re so smart, Finn.” Quinn shoots daggers with her eyes at Brittany, or just about, but Brittany doesn’t notice. Santana does, though, and rolls her eyes.

“I know, right? Like, if there was a Disney movie about a princess that cleans all the time, it would totally be about her,” Finn says. “She’d have one of those big fluffy dresses and a magical toilet brush.”

“Her office smells like the forest,” Brittany says almost dreamily.

“I don’t even know where her office is,” Puck says, shrugging. “I bet I will after the semester ends.”

“You don’t need guidance,” Finn says. “You’re the one that does the guiding, dude. Maybe she’ll come to your office.”

“So tall,” Kurt says.

“Maybe if I had an office, but then we’re back to that starting a business thing,” Puck says, grinning and then widening his grin at the looks of confusion on the girls’ faces, with the exception of Mercedes.

“I can think of a few ideas for your business,” Santana says. She puts her hand on Puck’s leg and starts to slide it up his thigh.

“That I am not interested in hearing,” Puck says, pushing his chair out from the table so fast it screeches against the floor. “You guys ready?”

“Yeah,” Finn says, apparently having decided that glaring at Santana should be his default facial expression. “We should go see a guy about a thing.”

“I was done anyway. It’s hard to eat my lunch with Finn repeatedly poking his undercooked fish,” Kurt says. He dabs at his mouth with a napkin. “Ladies, it’s been lovely.”

Puck grabs his tray, still ignoring Santana. “You should write a letter or something about that fish, Finn. Don’t want lunch poisoning you before your... afternoon activities.” He smirks and balances his tray in one hand, throwing the other arm around Finn’s shoulder and then winking at Kurt. “Everyone needs to stay in peak condition.”

 

The three of them are in the locker room on Friday evening, not particularly hurrying through getting ready, since the cooler November weather isn’t a lot of fun, even with pads on, and after a while, Puck notices Mike Chang keeps glancing at them. Puck nudges Finn and nods towards Mike after the latest time.

“What’s up with Mike? Do you know?”

“Was he checking out your ass again?” Finn asks. “‘Cause you know I don’t like that!”

“I can’t help that I have a great ass!” Puck says, probably for the thirtieth or fortieth time. “And no, he’s looking at all of us.”

“Oh.” Finn frowns and scratches the side of his face while he scrunches his eyebrows up in thought. “You think maybe he’s got us figured out? Or sorta does?”

“I don’t know. He just looks kinda... Kurt, what’s that word you used about tonight? Appre-something?”

“Apprehensive?” Kurt asks.

“Yeah. Mike looks apprehensive.”

“Hmm. Maybe he’s concerned about the game, though I think only someone who hasn’t been privy to our entire season wouldn’t be,” Kurt says.

Puck snorts back a laugh. “Yeah, good point.” A moment later, though, Mike walks towards them, his eyes darting from Puck to Kurt to Finn, and then around to all of them again. “Need something?” Puck asks Mike, attempting to smile at him.

“It can wait until after the game,” Mike says.

“Come on, now we’re curious,” Puck says. “What’s up?”

“Well...” Mike hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his pants and drags his toe along the floor. “It’s about Mercedes.”

“What about her?” Finn asks.

“I was thinking about asking her out,” Mike says. “But I wanted to talk to the three of you first.”

Puck exchanges a look with Kurt, then with Finn, not quite sure how they ended up screening Mercedes’ potential dates. “You do realize we’re not her dads or anything, and she can tell you yes or no on her own?” Puck says finally, somewhat amused.

“Right, right, no!” Mike says, holding up his hands and shaking his head. “I don’t mean it like that. Just, you three know her really well, and maybe you could tell me if you think she’d be interested. She’s not going out with one of you guys, right?”

“That is a most definite no,” Kurt says.

“Do you think she’d be interested, then?” Mike asks.

“You can’t take her out tonight, though,” Puck says, frowning.

“Oh, right! Right. Your standing Friday plans,” Mike says.

“You should ask her tonight, though,” Kurt says. “For next weekend. Next Saturday night.”

“Yeah, not next Friday, ‘cause we always have plans on Fridays. All of us,” Finn adds.

“And she’s never said anything bad about you,” Puck says encouragingly.

“Yeah? That’s good, at least!” Mike says. “So I should ask her out tonight.”

“But for next week,” Kurt says.

“I thought you guys weren’t her dads,” Mike says, grinning at them.

“No,” Kurt replies, “but we are her agents.”

“Hey, there’s an idea for something with an office,” Puck says, chuckling, and then he turns toward Mike. “Good luck, dude.”

“Thanks, man. I think I’ll need it!”

Puck shakes his head as Mike heads back to his locker, lowering his voice as he gestures Finn and Kurt closer. “At least he doesn’t hate us,” he points out quietly.

“Mercedes is gonna chew him up and spit him out in tiny pieces,” Finn says.

“It could be fun to watch, at least,” Kurt offers.

Puck smirks. “Maybe Mike likes that idea.” He nudges Finn’s shoulder. “Or did you mean not actually chewing?”

“I don’t know if Mike’s into that. He should try being into that, though, ‘cause it’s awesome.”

Puck grins and starts to lean closer to Finn when the locker room door slams open and everyone in the entire room jumps. The slam is followed almost immediately by a series of whistle blasts, then Coach’s voice. “Everybody! On the field! Let’s win this one!”

“Or at least not lose by more than twenty-one!” Puck shouts while he’s still out of sight of Coach.

“Hey, maybe we could actually win tonight,” Finn says. “Anything’s possible!”

“If the defense worked, yeah,” Puck agrees, throwing one arm over Kurt’s shoulders and the other over Finn’s. “‘Cause we have Kurt.”

Kurt’s cheeks turn pink and he ducks his head, but he’s obviously smiling. Puck grins and keeps his arms around the two of them even while they squeeze through the door, which just makes a few people laugh.

The temperature’s even colder than Puck was expecting, and most of the team spends the game trying to stay warm, whether or not they’re on the field ostensibly playing. Finn and Puck end up being both right, because they could have won with Kurt’s field goals, if the defense had been even halfway effective. Since it isn’t, they lose, but by less than twenty-one points, and once they’re back in their warmer street clothes, heading to find Mercedes, Puck turns to Kurt with raised eyebrows.

“Still nervous about us invading your house?” Puck asks. “We did promise nothing in the kitchen.”

“I guess it’s not very likely that sound will travel from the basement all the up to my dad’s room,” Kurt says.

“You can practice being quiet more,” Puck says. “Right, Finn?”

“Sure!” Finn says. “Really, really quiet!”

“We’ll be very quiet,” Puck promises, squeezing Kurt’s shoulder very briefly in a way he probably shouldn’t in public, not the way things are, but that no one will really notice since there’s so much of the post-game crowd still around.

“There you are,” Mercedes says suddenly from their left. “I am ready to get out of here. You boys promised me Mexican!”

“First, there’s someone you have to talk to,” Kurt says, nodding his head in the direction of the crowd, where Mike is pushing his way between people.

“There is?” Mercedes says, following Kurt’s gaze and then looking back at them. “I already escaped from Coach Sylvester.”

“It’s a boy someone,” Finn clarifies.

“A what?” Mercedes shakes her head at Finn. “The three of you are right here.”

Puck laughs. “Just turn around,” he tells her, and Mercedes rolls her eyes before slowly turning to her left. She looks over her shoulder at them once, raising an eyebrow, then turns to look at the crowd again as Mike finally gets closer.

“Hey,” Mike says as he stops in front of Mercedes.

“Hi,” Mercedes says, sounding both amused and slightly confused.

“So, uh.” Mike scratches the back of his head, looking past Mercedes to make eye contact with Puck, then Kurt, then Finn. Finn gives him a double thumbs up. “Do you maybe want to go out with me Saturday night?” Kurt clears his throat loudly. “Next Saturday night, I mean. A week from tomorrow.”

Mercedes starts to nod, then turns to stare at Kurt, Puck, and Finn, eyebrows raised, and they all look back at her. Puck attempts to look innocent, Kurt actually manages to look innocent with the addition of batting his eyelashes, and Finn just smiles the overly-tooth grin he uses on his mom when he wants something. Mercedes rolls her eyes and turns back to Mike.

“That would be cool,” she says, smiling at him.

“Yeah? Great! So, I’ll give you my number,” Mike says, and behind Mercedes, Kurt slowly shakes his head. “I mean, I’ll get your number, and I’ll call you so we can sort out all of the details.”

Mercedes smiles again, digging in her bag and pulling out a pen and a scrap of paper. After she writes her number down, she hands the scrap of paper to Mike. “There you go. I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Great!” Mike says. “Have a really great weekend!”

“Time for Mexican now,” Finn says, dramatically sweeping his arm through the air and around Mercedes’ shoulders to turn her away from Mike. “We have to eat tacos. Salsa. Cheese dip. Mexican things.”

“You three knew all about that, didn’t you?” Mercedes asks, falling into step with the three of them.

“We know everything, Mercedes. We’re psychic,” Finn confides.

“Exactly,” Puck agrees. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter that we did, does it?” He waits for Mercedes’ mostly-reluctant head shake before continuing. “And now you have plans practically all weekend next weekend. But first, this weekend, and getting Mexican.” Puck looks at Kurt. “You’re not going to make us keep the food in the kitchen, are you? ‘Cause we promised things about the kitchen under the assumption our time there would be fleeting.”

“You don’t want to eat in the kitchen?” Kurt asks.

“Why would we eat in the kitchen when we can eat in your room that’s far away from your dad’s hearing?” Puck asks.

“Fine, I’ll put a tablecloth on the floor,” Kurt says. Puck and Finn both give Kurt woeful looks, and Kurt sighs. “Fine, I’ll put a tablecloth on the bed. Happy?”

“You’re the best Kurt,” Puck agrees, grinning.

“You three do remember I draw the line at sex in front of me?” Mercedes asks.

“My dad insists you sleep upstairs, anyway,” Kurt says, hooking his arm through Mercedes’. “He didn’t say it, but I think it’s just in case one of us is less gay than we think we are.”

“That is very good news for us,” Puck says, smirking.

“What’s good news?” Burt ask, popping out of what seems like nowhere.

“Mercedes has a date!” Kurt says. “Mike Chang from the team asked her out for next weekend.”

“Well, congratulations, I guess,” Burt says. “This Mike, he a nice kid?”

“He talked to us first,” Puck says. “Even though we all know Mercedes is capable of kneeing him in the groin if necessary.”

“Which I don’t think it will be,” Mercedes insists.

“Yes, he’s very nice, does well in all his classes from what I’ve seen,” Kurt says. “We would strongly discourage Mercedes from going on a date with someone who wasn’t respectful.”

“Plus, he’s pretty cute,” Finn adds. Puck snorts, nudging Finn’s shoulder, and Mercedes laughs briefly. “What?” Finn asks.

“Don’t go after Mercedes’ date, dork,” Puck says quietly as they follow Burt into the parking lot. “Think of it this way, maybe he’ll stare at my ass less.”

“Good. I don’t like it.”

“Maybe you need to convince Kurt to lay off on the jeans, then,” Puck says. “Maybe they just make my ass irresistible.”

“Maybe you can just tell Kurt no you won’t wear the jeans,” Finn suggests.

“I don’t think Kurt would like that,” Puck whispers. “Do you want to tell him no about fashion shit?” Kurt is pretty ferocious when it comes to clothes and fashion, in fact. Puck’s not sure how Kurt would react if any of them really pushed him on something clothing-related. Puck has managed to get away with wearing the two sweaters Kurt has insisted upon only to temple with his Nana, which made Kurt, Nana, and his ma all happy, and means Puck doesn’t have to wear them to school or anywhere else, because despite Kurt’s assurances, Puck’s pretty sure he just looks like a dork in them. Finn doesn’t help either, since he’s been saying off and on since the summer that he likes the dorky temple clothes.

“No,” Finn says, grinning widely at Puck. “That’s why I said you should do it.”

“Dork,” Puck says, nudging Finn’s shoulder with his own. They reach Burt’s truck and throw their bags into the rear before Finn and Puck squeeze into the back of the cab, so Kurt and Mercedes can sit up front. Burt does go to Bandido’s, since none of them are sure Santana was telling the truth about the rats—it could have been an effort to get them to Las Palmas—and then head towards Kurt’s house with three bags of Mexican takeout that make Puck almost forget he really did have dinner before the game.

When they get to Kurt’s, Puck stretches before grabbing his bag and one of the bags of takeout, and go through Kurt’s kitchen to a flight of stairs leading to Kurt’s bedroom. “You still need to get more than one hanging chair,” Puck jokes as he gets to the bottom of the stairs.

“No, it would just encourage Finn to sit in one,” Kurt says.

“It’s so sad we’ll all have to sit on the bed,” Puck says, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“The floor remains an option,” Kurt retorts, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t think you really mean that,” Puck argues. “Do we really have to put a tablecloth down? And if so, can we, ‘cause apparently losing a football game makes me hungry.”

“Hold on just a moment,” Kurt says, disappearing into his closet for a moment and returning with a plastic tablecloth.

“Why do you have a tablecloth in you closet?” Finn asks.

“I use it when I make alterations to my clothes,” Kurt says. “Easier than vacuuming down here.”

“You could use it when you jerk off, too,” Puck says thoughtfully. “Then you wouldn’t have to change your sheets as often.”

“Puck!” Kurt squawks.

“You boys are going to ruin my appetite,” Mercedes says, glaring at each of them in turn.

“It actually makes me hungrier, kinda,” Finn says.

“Different kind of hungry,” Puck says with a smirk, setting down his bag of takeout and grabbing the tablecloth from Kurt to shake it out over the bed.

“And I’m hungry like the wolf,” Finn sings back at Puck.

“No Duran Duran until we’re done eating, please,” Kurt says. “I really can’t deal with ‘80s power ballads on an empty stomach.”

“You like it, really,” Puck insists, sitting on the bed and starting to unpack the food, while Finn continues singing “Hungry Like the Wolf.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I have to agree with Puck, there’s nothing wrong with a power ballad, Kurt,” Mercedes says, taking her seat.

“Hmph,” Kurt sniffs. “Taking sides. I’ll remember that next time a hot football player wants to ask you out.”

I’ll tell him yes, ‘cause I am the best, I’m on the hunt, I’m after youuuu,” Finn sings to Mercedes.

Mercedes laughs and then grabs the queso, holding it towards Finn. “Cheesy dip!”

Go lock the door, we’ll fuck on the floor,” Finn continues, taking the queso from Mercedes. “And then, uh... okay, I ran out of things to sing about.”

“If there’s any leftover, we should dip ourselves in it,” Puck says to Kurt, nodding at the queso container. Kurt wrinkles his nose, but Finn nods back.

“Yeah, that would be awesome!” Finn says.

“See?” Puck says, grinning at Kurt.

“You have to wait to do that after I go to bed,” Mercedes insists. “Which means not now.”

Do do doo doo doo,” Finn sings under his breath.

“Eat your cheesy dip, dork,” Puck says over Finn’s singing, grabbing one of the boxes with enchiladas in it. “Then we can repurpose the tablecloth. I mean. Clear off the bed.” He shoots a grin at Kurt.

“I don’t think there’s gonna be any left for you guys to wear, though,” Finn says through a mouthful of tortilla chips and queso.

“Kurt, help me remember to get an extra order next time,” Puck says.

“Uh, that’s a firm no,” Kurt answers. “Mercedes, what do you think about Mike?”

“He seems like a sweet guy,” Mercedes says after swallowing a bite of burrito. “I had no idea he wanted to ask me out! You three didn’t arrange this, did you? Some kind of matchmaking scheme.” Puck quickly shakes his head no as Mercedes points at them.

“Hmmf arrrft urrs,” Finn mumbles as he crams more chips into his mouth.

“Exactly,” Puck says, nodding. “But we told him no Friday night.”

“Hmm.” Mercedes looks a little skeptical, but seems to accept it. “That’s true, Friday night would mean either I got here late or the three of you would be out of control.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Puck says, setting down his box of enchiladas and running his hands up Finn and Kurt’s legs. He mentally laments that there’s still Kurt and Mercedes’ ANTM plus Scrubs that Finn and Puck finally convinced them to watch, too, but at least once the food’s gone they can stop worrying about knocking food over.

“Where’d my tacos go?” Finn asks. “I can’t find my tacos in any of these bags!”

“Behind you,” Puck says, his hand off Finn’s leg for a moment in order to move a box out of the way. He puts his hand back, scooting himself closer to both Finn and Kurt. “You know what we should do while we watch tonight?”

“Eat tacos?”

“Somehow I don’t think it’s tacos, Finn,” Kurt says.

“Well, we could eat tacos, too,” Puck concedes, “but Kurt’s right, it wasn’t tacos. We should watch naked. Well, or almost naked.” He raises his eyebrow at Mercedes who laughs silently and shakes her head.

“I like that idea. I like the idea of eating tacos naked, too,” Finn says. “But that one was my idea.”

“I’m going to eat my burritos while clothed,” Mercedes says. “You three are so romantic.”

“We so are,” Puck agrees. “Right, Kurt? Naked tacos while you watch your fashion thing?”

“Possibly. Let’s see if Finn eats them all before the episode comes on.”

“Irssatta chhhrnge?”

“No, Finn,” Kurt sighs. “It’s not a challenge.”

“It’s more like an inevitability,” Puck says. “Unless I distract him, but I think I’ll distract you instead.” He moves his hand higher on Kurt’s thigh and grins. “Of course, the two of us might distract him.”

“I wanna distract everybody, but first I wanna eat tacos,” Finn says.

“Yeah, but Kurt hasn’t told me to stop, so I think this is a win so far,” Puck says, his hand still moving higher, sliding up Kurt’s inner thigh. Kurt chirps, but doesn’t protest.

“You should kiss him while I eat my tacos,” Finn suggests. “Dinner and a show, like my mom says all the time about stuff.”

“Are you saying he’s getting dinner and a show, or that you are?” Puck asks, taking his other hand from Finn’s leg and wrapping it around Kurt’s neck before kissing him firmly. He pushes his tongue into Kurt’s mouth, the hand on Kurt’s thigh moving the rest of the way up and pressing against Kurt’s dick, palm flat.

“Me,” Finn says. “He’s getting dinner and a grope.”

“Mmmhmm,” Puck agrees, continuing to kiss Kurt, and he slowly strokes Kurt’s dick, palm still flat. He rubs the thumb of his other hand against Kurt’s neck, making Kurt chirp again, even louder.

“Can you two at least wait until I’m done eating?” Mercedes says with a sigh.

Puck pulls back, leaving his hands where they are. “I don’t know. Kurt? Can we?”

“No,” Kurt says in a squeaky voice. “Sorry, Mercedes.”

“His dick, his rules,” Finn says somberly.

“I like his rules,” Puck says, kissing Kurt again, first gently and then more forcefully. He curls his fingers around Kurt’s dick as best as he can, pulling Kurt closer with the hand on Kurt’s neck. Kurt sort of rolls into Puck’s lap, pushing Puck down against the tablecloth-covered bed, one of his legs between Puck’s legs, pressing up against Puck’s dick. Puck grins into the kiss and moves his hand faster on Kurt, grinding on Kurt’s leg.

“They’re not going to stop, are they?” Mercedes asks Finn.

“I hope not,” Finn answers. “They’re hot.”

Puck lifts his hand from Kurt’s neck just long enough to give Finn a thumbs up, and he presses harder against Kurt’s dick. “Want me to put my hand down your pants?” Puck whispers in Kurt’s ear.

“I’m turning on our show now!” Mercedes announces loudly in the background, and Puck wants to groan. Kurt does groan, pushing his leg up against Puck’s dick.

“Tablecloth?” Kurt answers.

“Told you it had two purposes,” Puck says, kissing the very corner of Kurt’s mouth.

“No, should move it,” Kurt says.

“Finn?” Puck says. “Move the tablecloth?” Puck moves his hand to the waistband of Kurt’s pants. “Open or off?”

“Yes,” Kurt says. “One, both, either, I don’t care.”

“You have to get off the tablecloth so I can move it,” Finn says. “Or, I guess I could practice that magic trick, the one where they yank the tablecloth off and leave the dishes!”

Puck rolls he and Kurt over, onto Kurt’s pillows, hoping it’s far enough for Finn to move the tablecloth, and he unfastens Kurt’s pants, using both hands to tug them and Kurt’s underwear down around his thighs. Puck wraps his hand around Kurt’s dick and starts stroking it again, slowly.

“Like this?” he teases. The tablecloth slides out from under them, rocking Kurt forward.

“Oh!” Kurt says. “Yes, that’s good.”

As Puck moves his hand a little faster, someone—probably Mercedes—turns the volume on the television up, and Puck groans against Kurt’s throat. “Dammit, Cedes, stop,” he whines, thrusting against Kurt’s leg. “Keep going,” he murmurs into Kurt’s ear.

“I will,” Kurt promises, rocking against Puck again, intentionally this time.

“You feel good,” Puck says, tightening his fingers. He opens his eyes and turns his head enough to see Finn, who has managed to remove his shirt along with the tablecloth, and is now perched on the edge of Kurt’s bed, legs crossed, eating a taco and watching Puck and Kurt. Puck grins at Finn and thrusts his dick against Kurt’s leg even harder.

“Can we get under the covers?” Kurt asks.

“Take your pants off,” Puck says, releasing Kurt’s dick and reaching underneath them for the top of the covers, pushing them back.

“Covers first,” Kurt insists. “Mercedes probably doesn’t want to see anything below the waist.”

“I do, though,” Finn complains, still munching on his taco, or possible another taco.

“You’re not quite a curtain on your own,” Puck says, considering Finn’s size versus where Mercedes is. He finally gets the covers free and maneuvers he and Kurt under them, then tugs at Kurt’s pants again. “Off now.”

Kurt wiggles his hips, helping Puck pull the pants off, only moving his leg from where it’s pressed against Puck’s dick when he has to let the pants pass down his legs. Puck grins at Kurt and tries to hand the pants to Finn, though he’s not sure if they really make it to Finn or not.

“You gonna take mine off?” he asks Kurt, running his hand over Kurt’s now-bare ass.

Kurt nods and sits up, using both hands to unfasten Puck’s jeans and start to pull them down. Puck lifts his hips, still grinning, as Kurt stips the jeans off Puck’s legs. Once Puck’s jeans are off, Kurt runs his hands down Puck’s legs.

“Happy now?” Kurt asks.

“I’m happy,” Finn says from slightly closer to them on the bed.

“Happier,” Puck agrees, pulling Kurt back down and kissing him. “Definitely happier.” He reaches between them and loosely grabs Kurt’s dick. “You?”

“Yes, very much,” Kurt says.

Puck kisses Kurt again, sliding his tongue along Kurt’s, and he moves his hand lazily. “Guess you ought to show me, Kurt,” he says, smirking.

“Yeah, you oughta show both of us,” Finn says. “I mean, actual show for me, since, well, tacos.” He holds up a taco.

“Dinner and a show,” Puck says, nodding, then looks at Kurt. “Better than thinking he picked tacos over us, right?” he asks with a grin.

“I’m choosing you,” Finn agrees. “I’m just choosing watching you. Watching you’s pretty good, you know.”

“You can give us a review later,” Puck says, looking back at Kurt and kissing him slowly while moving his hand equally slowly on Kurt’s dick. Kurt chirps and squeaks, moving his own hand to Puck’s dick and curling his fingers around it. Puck pushes into Kurt’s hand a little, and tightens his own hand. He keeps his hand’s movement slow, and he opens his mouth against Kurt’s, running his tongue on Kurt’s lower lip and then inside Kurt’s mouth.

“This’d be better without the covers,” Finn notes.

“It would not!” Mercedes calls over. “You three can wait to go at it without any covers until later.”

Puck pulls slowly out of the kiss and looks at Finn with a little shrug. “I think we might already be compromising with Mercedes by having the covers.”

“You are!” Mercedes says, almost cheerfully.

“Enjoy your American models, Mercedes!” Finn calls back to Mercedes, then adds, under his breath, “And then go upstairs, Mercedes.”

Puck chuckles. “Did you pre-watch the show in case we got you undressed?” Puck whispers in Kurt’s ear, moving his hand a little faster. “Or are we actually being honored, here?”

“I can always watch it later,” Kurt says. His hand also starts moving faster, and he turns his head so he can leave small kisses down the side of Puck’s neck.

“Awesome,” Puck says, tilting his head to the side. “Really awesome.” He tightens his hand on Kurt’s dick and grins. “I do feel honored.”

"You should," Kurt says, his lips brushing against Puck's neck. He nuzzles his nose into the place where Puck's neck and shoulder join, breathing deeply. "You smell so good."

“Yeah? Not too sweaty and gross?” Puck says, putting his free hand on Kurt’s ass and squeezing gently. “Or just the right amount of sweaty and gross?”

"You smell like boy," Kurt says, kissing the same spot he nuzzled. "It smells so good. It's just right."

“I’m going to smell like a boy who’s been fooling around at least, soon,” Puck promises, squeezing Kurt’s ass again and moving the hand on Kurt’s dick even faster. Kurt's cheeks redden and he squirms against Puck, licking and kissing Puck's neck and shoulder.

"I'm almost done with my tacos," Finn announces.

“You’ll have to hurry,” Puck says. “He’s blushing so nicely.” He kisses Kurt’s cheek, then the other side, and grins at him. “Definitely weren’t wrong last week. Blushing does do it for me.”

"Duh," Finn says. He wipes his hand on a napkin and scoots closer to Puck and Kurt. "Just gonna watch from up closer. This is awesome. You're both so hot!"

“Yeah,” Puck agrees, kissing Kurt again and pushing into Kurt’s hand. “We are.” He brings his hand up from Kurt’s ass to his head and then his face. “We have to put on a good show for our boyfriend, right?” He blinks once, because that’s not exactly something they’ve said, but it makes sense. Kurt’s their boyfriend, so Finn is definitely his and Kurt’s boyfriend, too.

Kurt's blush deepens, joined by a small, pleased-looking smile. His runs his thumb over the head of Puck's dick, does it again, then does it a third time. "We do," he agrees. "I hope our boyfriend likes it."

"Yeah, he does," Finn says. "Wow, yeah, that's so, so hot!" He reaches out and lightly touches Kurt's hair, then runs his fingertips up Puck's hand.

“You three have all night,” Mercedes laments from in front of the television. “You’re just being greedy! You two are monopolizing Kurt.”

“Well, yeah,” Puck agrees, laughing.

“So one boyfriend each isn’t enough?” Mercedes asks, and Puck’s pretty sure if he actually looked over at her, she’d have her eyebrows raised and possibly one hand on her hip.

"Yeah, one's enough," Finn says. "Puck's enough. It's just that two is awesome, and awesome is better than enough. It's like extra good and perfect."

“You heard him,” Puck echoes, nodding. “Extra good.” He moves his hand down Kurt’s back slowly, his other hand still wrapped around Kurt’s now extremely hard dick. “You going to come for me when I kiss you?” Puck asks Kurt. Kurt blushes harder and nods, making a whiny little chirpy noise as he nods. Puck grins and then lifts his head to kiss Kurt hard and messily, the hand on Kurt’s back coming up to tangle in Kurt’s hair and hold his head in place.

Kurt's body tenses, then almost seems to spasm, his hips jerking forward as he comes in Puck's hand, kissing Puck back frantically. After a few more motions of Kurt's hips, his body sags against Puck, his hand going momentarily still on Puck's dick as Kurt breathes heavily.

"Now Puck," Finn says in a low, husky voice. "Don't stop, Kurt."

Kurt's hand tightens around Puck's dick again, stroking it slowly. He mouths down Puck's cheek, back to his neck, and kisses and sucks at Puck's skin as he moves his hand faster.

"You two are so gorgeous," Finn says, leaning in close. "Kurt, keep touching him. I wanna watch you make him come."

“Oh, he will,” Puck manages, his hips thrusting his dick into each stroke of Kurt’s hand. “So hot when you came,” he whispers to Kurt. “The way you just let go, it’s awesome.” He grins a little. “Got me so close.”

Kurt smiles, sliding his thumb over the head of Puck's dick again, while Finn moves in closer, his leg against Puck's side. Finn's fingers trace over Puck's hip.

"When he makes you come, I'll lick it off you," Finn promises, leaning in to whisper it into Puck's ear. "I'll lick it all off you, off your stomach and your dick, and off Kurt's hand, too."

“Good,” Puck says, holding his body still except for his hips and his dick, and he knows he can’t hold off much longer, as good as everything feels. His fingers in Kurt’s hair tighten almost involuntarily, and he thrusts forward again with a whine, coming into Kurt’s hand. Finn's hand comes to rest on top of Kurt's before Kurt's hand stops moving, gently guiding Kurt through one last stroke before lifting Kurt's hand.

Finn grins as Puck as he brings Kurt's messy hand to his mouth, licking the come off Kurt's fingers. After he's licked Kurt's hand all over, he slides each of Kurt's fingers into his mouth, one at a time, sucking them clean.

"There," Finn says, releasing Kurt's hand. "Now Puck." He pushed the covers back just enough, laying his body across Puck's to block him Mercedes' view, then laps at Puck's dick, licking it clean before doing the same to Puck's stomach.

“Hey, Kurt?” Puck says, grinning at Finn. “I think we did good.”

"Yes," Kurt agrees. "Was that a good show, Finn?"

"The best," Finn says.

“Maybe next time I’ll have to suck his dick while you watch,” Puck offers, glancing at Kurt to see how he reacts. Kurt's cheeks turn an appealing shade of bright pink, but he smiles.

"Maybe you'll have to suck his dick while I help," Finn counters.

“Oh, I figured you’d be sucking his dick as soon as ‘Cedes went upstairs.” Puck grins brightly at the two of them.

“Yeah, probably so,” Finn says, grinning back.

“Then I guess the important question is how quickly can we get her upstairs, right?” Puck asks, smirking.

“I’m gonna take off my pants!” Finn announces loudly. Very loudly.

“No, you are not,” Mercedes says almost calmly. “I am finishing this show, I am finishing our other show, and you boys can just come over here and sit down. I will tolerate shirtlessness. That’s it.”

“Guess you and I have to lose the shirts and find some pants,” Puck says to Kurt. “Too bad.” He squeezes Kurt’s ass again and kisses his neck.

“Why is Mercedes the boss?” Finn whispers.

“Because she could Cheerio flip over here and kill us all?” Kurt offers. “Also because she may be the last of us still capable of rational decision-making.”

“Aww, do we rob you of rational thought?” Puck asks. “That’s awesome.”

“I think it’s more of a collective loss than an individual robbery,” Kurt huffs.

“Does that make us a collective?” Puck grabs Finn’s hand leaves his other hand on Kurt’s ass. “Also awesome.”

“I’m not sure what else to call it,” Kurt confesses.

Puck shrugs. “Sounds good to me. What do you think, Finn?”

“Sure. Boyfriend collective,” Finn says.

“I’m going to start calling you that at school,” Mercedes says too sweetly. “The Collective. And now you should get your collective asses over here for the last half of the show and all of the other show.”

“Okay,” Finn sighs.

“I have sweatpants in my bag,” Puck says to Finn. “Grab Kurt and I both a pair?” He shakes his head at Kurt. “Don’t complain. It’ll be easier later.”

“On it,” Finn says, hopping off the bed, while Kurt looks distressed about the whole sweatpants thing. Finn returns quickly with both pairs of sweatpants, handing them to Puck.

“They’re clean,” Puck says, handing the slightly smaller pair to Kurt. “And they aren’t going to strangle you or cause you to lose a pair of designer gloves or anything.” Puck puts on the other pair, wiggling under the covers, then pulls off his shirt and sits up.

“I guess I could get your fancy matching pajamas for you instead,” Finn offers.

Puck shakes his head. “Not like they’re going to hurt him.”

“You just want him in your pants,” Finn says, grinning.

“And what’s so wrong about that?” Puck counters, meeting Finn’s grin with a smirk of his own.

“Nothing. Pretty awesome,” Finn replies.

“C’mon, get them on,” Puck says to Kurt, tugging on Finn’s hand and kissing him hard before moving his mouth to Finn’s neck and biting down. Finn whines as he slides his hand into Puck’s mohawk, tilting his head to give Puck better access to his neck. When Puck finally stops biting Finn’s neck, Kurt is wearing the sweatpants, shirt off, and Puck grins at him.

“Okay, Collective, get over here,” Mercedes orders.

“Your wish is our command,” Kurt says, sliding off the bed and heading to the sofa to sit next to Mercedes. He looks back expectantly at Puck and Finn.

“We’re, ah, coming,” Puck says, standing up and tugging Finn with him, but he smirks at Kurt as they head towards the sofa. “What did we miss, ‘Cedes?”

“Canals and boats,” Mercedes answers. “And one of the girls getting lost.”

“Was it the one who looks like she has to poop?” Finn asks, settling down next to Kurt and putting his arms across the back of the sofa, one around Kurt and one around Puck.

“No, but I think she’s finally going to leave,” Mercedes says. “It was the one Puck says looks like a rabbit.”

“She does! All jumpy,” Puck says defensively as he scoots closer to Finn. “You’d think Tyra was a wolf or something.”

“She might be a wolf,” Finn says, pulling Puck against him.

“Tyra is not a wolf,” Mercedes says. “But that girl is jumpy.”

“Hey, it’s down to pooper or rabbit in the bottom two,” Puck notes a few minutes later. “I kind of hope rabbit stays.”

“I just hope pooper waits until she gets kicked off to poop,” Finn says. “I don’t wanna see it.”

“I think rabbit stays,” Kurt says. “They’re playing up how nervous she is. That’s a tell.”

“We could go into reality television producing instead,” Puck suggests. “Pick a different show every night to study.”

“And what kind of show would you produce?” Mercedes asks skeptically.

“Porn,” Finn says.

“Finn, I don’t think pornography counts as reality television,” Kurt says.

“Not, like, Batporn,” Finn protests. “Like a show about porn. America’s Next Top Porn Person Guy.”

“So, gay porn, then?” Kurt asks.

“We never did try to find any gay porn,” Puck says thoughtfully. “I bet the Batman in gay porn wouldn’t be wearing so much of his suit.”

“And they wouldn’t show any actual porn on the show. They’d just do it like the model show,” Finn says. “And they’d show, like, waist up.”

“See, we’re good at this,” Puck says. “Or we could do two shows. One for cable that’s porn, and one that’s just a dude model show.”

“Better than rabbit and pooper,” Finn agrees.

“It’s a definite possibility,” Kurt concedes.

“You three were so busy discussing porn that you didn’t even notice pooper left.” Mercedes smacks herself in the forehead. “I can’t believe I just called her that. That’s your fault, Finn Hudson.”

“Guilty as charged!” Finn says happily, raising his hand.

“Aww, rabbit’s so happy,” Puck says. “How many more episodes until one of them wins?”

“Two, so that’s two more weeks for us to watch before we have to pick something else for the off season,” Kurt says.

“I think we should have them watch the last season of Project Runway,” Mercedes says, “but I know that might be pushing it.”

“Can’t we watch Amazing Race or something?” Puck asks.

“No, I don’t think we can,” Kurt says. “You get Scrubs, we get Project Runway.”

“I’ll switch to Sex and the City in exchange for Amazing Race,” Puck offers, though he’s not sure if Sex and the City is still on or if it ended already.

“No deal. I own the boxed set,” Kurt says.

“Hey Finn? I’ve seen our winter break,” Puck says mournfully. “And it’s pink.”

Finn shrugs. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Exactly,” Kurt says. “Now, get us to the right episode of Scrubs.”

“I’m going,” Mercedes promises. “You might even like Sex and the City, boys.” She queues up the next episode of Scrubs from the TiVo and hits play. “I like Scrubs more than I thought I would, after all.”

“‘Cause it’s funny,” Puck says, nudging Mercedes’ foot with his. “That’s why.” Mercedes looks at him and shakes her head with a smile but doesn’t respond. The four of them are mostly quiet during the episode, laughing at the appropriate times, and occasionally an inappropriate time, at least on Puck and Finn’s parts. When it ends, Puck nudges Mercedes’ foot again and smiles brightly at her.

“Let me guess,” Mercedes says. “You think it’s time for me to go to bed?”

Puck tries to look as innocent as possible as he nods, and he nudges Finn’s side with his shoulder. Finn looks over at him, confused.

“What?” Finn asks.

“Don’t you think it’s time for Mercedes to go to bed?” Puck says enthusiastically.

“Yeah, Mercedes, you look really tired,” Finn says. “Seriously, like, your eyes are tired and all of that.”

Mercedes sighs dramatically. “A girl can tell when she’s not wanted.” She stands up and winks at them. “Kurt, is it okay if I use the bathroom upstairs? It won’t wake your dad?”

“He sleeps like he’s in a coma,” Kurt says. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”

“Okay, then,” Mercedes says with a laugh. “Enjoy your evening, boys, but don’t forget that the three of you promised me a morning at the mall.”

“Yes, Mercedes,” Puck says dutifully. “We all adore and worship you, Mercedes.” Mercedes laughs and waves over her shoulder as she heads up the stairs, bag over one shoulder, and Puck waits until he hears the door shut before grinning at Finn and Kurt. “Now we can get naked.”

“Yay!” Finn says, standing and immediately stripping off his jeans, kicking them across the room. “Naked time!”

“No one will ever accuse you of not being enthusiastic,” Kurt notes, pushing the borrowed sweat pants off his hips.

“Yeah, you really delayed taking off your clothes yourself,” Puck says, laughing as he takes his sweatpants off. He grabs Finn’s hand, then Kurt’s, and tugs them towards the bed. “Any special requests from me while Finn sucks your dick?”

“I have one,” Finn says, before Kurt can answer. “You can kiss him and keep him quiet so Mr. Hummel doesn’t come down here and beat us up!”

“I don’t think he’d do that,” Kurt insists. “But I wouldn’t argue with being kissed while Finn, uh, while Finn—”

“Sucks your dick,” Finn finishes. “It’ll be awesome.”

“Mercedes might come down here and tell us to shut up,” Puck points out, grinning. “And I can definitely handle some kissing.” He sits down on the bed and looks at Finn. “How do you want him?”

“However’s the easiest for kissing,” Finn says. “Maybe you could just hold him in your arms.”

“I can definitely do that,” Puck says, pulling Kurt towards him and sitting him between Puck’s legs, mostly facing out but a little sideways, enough that Puck can kiss him. He wraps his arms around Kurt’s chest and kisses the side of his neck. “Good?”

"Oh yes," Kurt says. He closes his eyes and turns his head away from Puck, making his neck easier to access.

"Good for me, too," Finn says, sliding both hands up Kurt's legs from his ankles to his hips. He plants a kiss on each of Kurt's hips, then one on the small bit of lingering pudge on Kurt's stomach, right below his belly button.

Kurt wiggles in place, squirming against Puck's lap. Puck grins against Kurt’s neck and tightens his arms a little. “Yeah, his ass is nice and soft,” he says, kissing a line down Kurt’s neck and to his collarbone. “Can’t say you’re not enthusiastic either, you know.”

"Can't blame him. We're awesome," Finn says, running the tip of his tongue over the head of Kurt's dick. Kurt lets out a squeaky gasp, and Finn raises his head. "Probably time to kiss him now."

“Probably,” Puck agrees. “You can tell Finn how awesome it is after,” he whispers in Kurt’s ear, then kisses Kurt’s mouth almost gently. He runs his tongue over Kurt’s lips, moving one arm from Kurt’s chest to wrap around Kurt’s neck, his hand on the back of Kurt’s head.

Puck can tell the moment Finn takes Kurt's dick into his mouth because Kurt's hips suddenly buck up, off of Puck's lap. Finn makes the noise he usually makes during a blow job, the happy humming sound, and Puck feels Finn's hand sliding along Puck's leg.

Puck pushes his tongue into Kurt’s mouth, still almost gentle, and he tugs on Kurt’s hair just enough for his head to turn towards Puck a little more. Puck takes his other hand and reaches blindly for Finn’s head, running his fingers through Finn’s hair once he finds it, and he kisses Kurt harder, sucking on Kurt’s tongue.

Kurt keeps squirming in Puck's lap, one hand clutching at Puck's chest, the other bumping into Puck's hand when they meet in Finn's hair. Kurt moans and chirps into Puck's mouth, and Finn moans around Kurt's dick in response. Finn's hand tightens on Puck's leg, his head bobbing up and down faster, and soon Kurt starts to shake.

Puck runs his hand through Kurt’s hair repeatedly as they kiss, and then pulls away to whisper in Kurt’s ear. “Just let go, Kurt, let go again like you did earlier, you’re so hot.”

Kurt cries out quietly, head thrown back and face pink, and his hips jerk upwards, his body still shaking as he comes. Finn's head continues moving until Kurt's cries turn into an almost distressed squeak, and then Finn sits up, leaning forward to slam his mouth against Puck's.

Puck opens his mouth under Finn’s as Finn’s tongue pushes in, and Puck can barely taste Finn under the taste of Kurt’s come filling his mouth. He starts pushing against Kurt almost involuntarily as Finn kisses him, and then he grabs Kurt’s hips, holding them still against Puck’s thrusts.

"Doesn't he taste good?" Finn asks as he pulls away slightly.

“Yeah, he does,” Puck agrees. “Kurt, you’ve got about twenty seconds if you don’t want me coming all over your ass.”

"Why wouldn't I want that?" Kurt asks, sounding dazed and a little giggly.

"Yeah, he wants that," Finn says.

“Could want it somewhere else,” Puck points out, then kisses Finn again as he thrusts hard against Kurt twice before coming, his cries lost in Finn’s mouth. He drops his hands from Kurt’s hips and leans against Kurt’s back. “What you want, dork?” he asks Finn after a moment.

"You know what I want," Finn says. "I dunno if he wants it yet, though."

“Well, ask him,” Puck says, kissing Kurt’s back.

"Kurt," Finn begins, kissing Kurt's chest. "I want to fuck you. Do you want me to fuck you?"

Kurt gasps softly, squirming back against Puck again. "I—I think so."

"Is that yes or just maybe?" Finn asks. "I need a for sure yes."

"Yes," Kurt breathes. "Yes."

“Do you want me to help him finger you?” Puck asks. Kurt blushes furiously and puts his hands over his face.

“That looks like a yes, too,” Finn says.

“Yeah, it does,” Puck agrees, and he kisses the back of Kurt’s neck. “Get the lube?”

"Yeah," Finn answers, and then, "Catch!"

Puck laughs and grabs the lube out of the air. “Good thing it’s not a bigger bottle, I guess,” he says, opening it and spreading some on his fingers. “Lean forward just a little bit,” he urges Kurt, running both hands down Kurt’s back. Kurt leans, looking back anxiously at Puck. “It’s okay, I promise,” Puck says, resting his unlubed hand on the small of Kurt’s back.

“Yeah, it feels really good,” Finn says.

Puck moves the lubed fingers lower, then uses one to circle around Kurt’s hole. “Tell me if you want less or slower—or more or faster,” he adds with a little bit of a grin.

“It’s a little cold,” Kurt says.

“Should warm up soon,” Puck says, circling his finger again before barely pressing the tip of his finger inside Kurt and holding it there. Kurt makes a quiet, higher-pitched version of the chirping sound, his body going completely still. Puck kisses Kurt’s back again, and moves his finger in a tiny bit more. “Good?”

Kurt nods faintly. Puck grins against Kurt’s back and keeps pushing his finger in, very slowly, his other hand resting on Kurt’s hip. He barely twitches the tip of his finger as it moves, and he lifts his head, trying to get a better look at what Kurt’s reaction might be. Kurt barely moves, his muscles tense, and Puck shakes his head.

“Hey, relax,” he says quietly. “Finn, maybe you should kiss him good.” Puck slides the hand on Kurt’s hip around to Kurt’s dick, and he holds it loosely. “Get those muscles less tight.” He pushes his finger in farther, stroking Kurt’s dick at the same time.

“Yeah, you gotta relax, Kurt,” Finn says. He leans down and takes Kurt’s face between his hands, gently kissing him. “Puck’s gonna make you feel so good if you let him.”

Kurt nods again, and Finn kisses him harder, still holding Kurt’s face in his hands. Puck can feel Kurt slowly starting to relax, his muscles getting looser, and Puck kisses Kurt’s back repeatedly until Kurt seems relaxed enough for Puck to slide a second finger in.

“Going to make sure you’re nice and stretched out,” Puck promises. “You’re so tight, it’ll be so good for both of you.” He strokes Kurt’s dick a few more times before picking up the lube and putting it on Kurt’s leg. “You could get Finn ready.”

Kurt makes a little squeaky noise against Finn’s mouth, but nods again, taking the bottle of lube and holding it uncertainly. Finn pulls away and grins at Kurt.

“It’s just like doing it without the lube, but more slipperier,” Finn says.

“More slippery,” Kurt corrects, which makes Finn laugh.

“He’s relaxed enough to tell me I’m wrong,” Finn says to Puck.

Puck grins over Kurt’s shoulder at Finn. “Yeah, he’s definitely more relaxed,” Puck agrees, stroking Kurt’s dick again. “But still pretty damn tight. You want me to jerk him off while you two fuck? Or fuck you? Or what? I can think of like five different things.” He moves his fingers a little faster inside Kurt. “You have any thoughts on it, Kurt?”

Kurt shakes his head, but Finn says, “You fucking me sounds kinda complicated. Maybe we’ll just give Kurt all the attention this time.” He takes Kurt’s hand in his, flipping open the bottle of lube Kurt’s clasping. “Seriously, it’s not complicated. You just need me to do it?”

Kurt shakes his head again. “No, I can do it.” He pours some lube onto his hand and puts his hand on Finn’s dick, slowly working his fingers up and down until Finn’s dick is covered in lube.

“That feels good,” Finn says.

“Finn’s ready,” Puck says with a little grin. “And I think you’re ready. If you’re ready.” Puck kisses Kurt’s neck again. “That really was supposed to make sense. You feel good?”

Kurt nods. “Yes. I think I’m ready. How do I know?”

“If it feels wrong, tell him to stop, okay?” Puck says, slowly pulling his fingers from Kurt and then almost lifting Kurt forward. He runs his fingers back over Kurt’s hole very lightly. “But yeah, I think you’re good.” Puck shifts position, kissing Finn hard and then whispering in Finn’s ear, quietly enough that Kurt can’t hear. “Gonna watch you fuck our boyfriend now.”

“Awesome,” Finn whispers back. “Oh, shit, we should’ve made him watch the Australian videos!”

“I think it’ll be fine,” Puck says. “He can watch ‘em later if he feels like he’s missing out.”

“Okay,” Finn says. He gently pushes Kurt forward, until Kurt is on his hands and knees with Finn kneeling behind him. Finn has one hand on Kurt’s hips, clearly concentrating, and Puck has to resist the urge to tell Finn to stop scrunching his eyebrows together and relax a little. Finn pushes forward a little too slowly and a little too deliberately, and Puck puts his hand over Finn’s at the base of his dick.

“He’s ready, I promise,” Puck says, guiding Finn’s dick forward with a little more force than Finn had been attempting.

“I don’t wanna hurt him,” Finn says quietly. “He’s, like, delicate.”

“Yeah, you won’t,” Puck answers, moving his hand to Kurt’s hole and sliding his fingers in again. “See? He’s ready for you.” Puck pulls his hand away and grips Finn’s dick again. “Just push in.”

“Okay,” Finn says, pushing forward and letting Puck guide him. Puck can see Kurt tensing, more than Finn does, and Puck moves his hand from Finn’s dick, nodding at him, to Kurt’s dick, stroking it gently.

“Hey. Kurt,” Puck says softly, when Kurt inhales with a slight hiss. “You want me to kiss you?”

Kurt nods his head, closing his eyes. Behind him, Finn exhales loudly and says, “Oh, fuck.”

Puck grins at Finn, then bends over to kiss Kurt, one hand still on Kurt’s dick. He pushes his tongue into Kurt’s mouth immediately, and Kurt returns the kiss almost desperately. Puck moves his hand on Kurt’s dick a little faster, still kissing Kurt hard, and shifts his position to support some of Kurt’s weight.

“You okay back there?” Puck asks Finn after a few moments, pulling away from Kurt enough to speak.

“Can’t move,” Finn says, voice a little higher than usual and almost panting. “Gonna come in like two seconds and feel really lame.”

Puck laughs and kisses the corner of Kurt’s mouth. “Hear that? That’s all you, Kurt.”

Kurt makes a little noise of agreement, his eyes still closed. Finn starts to move slowly, and Kurt’s face tenses again, one of his hands gripping the blanket underneath him and the other holding on to Puck.

“You want to change positions?” Puck whispers in Kurt’s ear, then looks at Finn without waiting for Kurt to respond. “I know what the video says, but I think Kurt’d do better lying down.”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “He’s so tense. I don’t want to hurt him. Am I hurting you, Kurt?”

“A little,” Kurt admits.

“Yeah, then I think what Puck says,” Finn says, pulling away from Kurt. Kurt inhales sharply again.

“C’mere, lie on me,” Puck says, tugging on Kurt and propping them both on the pillows. “There, now you don’t have to hold yourself up and you can relax, okay?” Kurt nods.

“We can stop if you want,” Finn says. “It’s okay. I won’t get upset or anything, so just tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

“Put some more lube on,” Puck suggests to Finn, moving his lips next to Kurt’s ear. “I want you to keep kissing me unless you need to tell one of us something, okay? Just kiss me.” Puck grins against Kurt’s cheek. “You are the prettiest, you know.”

Kurt smiles back, his face relaxing. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah.” Puck kisses the corner of Kurt’s mouth again. “Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Kurt continues smiling, blushing a little, and then his eyes flutter closed and he exhales slowly. Puck brings his mouth to Kurt’s, kissing him slowly and running his tongue alongside Kurt’s, wanting to feel Kurt’s body relax against him even more. He opens his eyes after a moment, looking towards Finn. One of Finn’s hands is splayed on Kurt’s chest, the other pushing Kurt’s leg back, towards Puck, and Puck can see Finn moving slowly, his eyes almost rolling back in his head. Puck closes his eyes again and kisses Kurt a little more sloppily.

Puck can tell Kurt’s relaxing more, almost kind of melty against Puck, and as they kiss, Kurt gasps and moans into Puck’s mouth. Puck kisses up Kurt’s cheek to his ear and whispers, “Let Finn hear you.”

Kurt moans louder, and Puck opens his eyes again, looking between Kurt and Finn. Finn looks like he might die at any point, and Puck grins before whispering into Kurt’s ear again.

“You need anything different?” Puck asks. “Slower, faster, harder, anything?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt gasps. “I need—I need something.”

“Something more?” Puck says softly. “Can I guess for you?” Kurt nods. “Finn,” Puck says, increasing his volume a little but not looking away from Kurt. “A little deeper and a little faster.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Finn says in a tight voice. “Fuck, he’s so tight, feels so good.”

“Yeah, you two look awesome,” Puck says. “Tilt your hips just a little, Kurt.”

Kurt must tilt his hips as instructed, because almost immediately he says “Oh!” and clutches Puck’s arm.

“Good oh?” Puck asks, kissing the side of Kurt’s neck again.

“Yes, good, yes,” Kurt says. “Oh, that’s—oh.”

“Yeah, it looks good on you,” Puck says, smirking at Kurt’s flushed cheeks. “Look at him, Finn.”

“God, he’s so pretty,” Finn breathes. “So tight and so pretty, and fuck, I really wanna come, I really wanna come.”

“Tell him,” Puck whispers in Kurt’s ear. “Tell him you want him to come, if you do.”

“Finn,” Kurt gasps out. “Finn, you can come, I want you to.”

“Uh-uh,” Finn says, and Puck glances at him, wondering if the effort not to come is too much for Finn, his face red and his lips mashed together. “You first. Gotta be you first,” Finn insists, and Puck watches as Finn slides his hand down Kurt’s chest to wrap around Kurt’s dick, jerking him off fast and rough.

Kurt turns his head from side to side, almost tossing it, and he holds onto Puck with both hands, his moans turning into short, loud cries. “So awesome,” Puck whispers in Kurt’s ear, watching his face.

“Come on, Kurt, come on,” Finn says, still moving his hand rapidly over Kurt’s dick. “That’s it, that’s our sweet baby, come on.”

“Yeah, you’re our pretty baby,” Puck agrees, still whispering to Kurt.

Kurt’s back arches and his hand tightens on Puck’s arm, and he starts repeating “Oh!” louder and louder until his whole body is shaking and he’s coming all over his own stomach.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Finn says, immediately thrusting harder and shaking, too, as he comes inside Kurt.

“Yeah, so awesome,” Puck says, moving his hand down Kurt’s chest and running his fingers through Kurt’s come. “Both of you.”

Finn props himself up by leaning on Kurt’s knee, grinning sort of drunkenly at Puck. “Yeah, that was fucking awesome. You okay, Kurt?”

“Mmm, yes,” Kurt says. “Just need a second.”

“Look at him,” Puck says to Finn. “He’s really relaxed now.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Finn says. He slowly eases himself out of Kurt and lies down next to him with his head on Puck’s leg. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. That was...” Kurt trails off as he rolls to kiss Finn.

Puck runs his hand through Finn’s hair, then Kurt’s, grinning at them. “The two of you are so hot.”

“We’re all hot,” Finn agrees, pulling away from Kurt and hooking his hand around the back of Puck’s neck, pulling him down. “You’re awesome.”

“Yeah, I am,” Puck agrees before kissing Finn. If Puck’s completely honest with himself, he’s a little surprised with himself, that he wasn’t really jealous, watching them. Puck opens his mouth wider against Finn’s, one hand running through Finn’s hair and holding him close before releasing Finn and turning immediately to Kurt, kissing him just as hard and just as messily. He kisses Kurt for a long time before pulling away, running his tongue over his own lips and looking between Kurt and Finn.

“So, you should fuck me now, so Kurt can see how much better at it you are,” Finn says.

Puck laughs. “You just want me to fuck you, dork.”

“Well, duh.”

 

"You've barely been home, Noah," his ma says on Sunday at dinner. "And yes, I know, you were home last night and today, but you had your friends here."

Puck shrugs. "What's the big deal? Julie's not complaining."

"Nope!" Julie agrees, grinning at Puck.

"It's just that you're so secretive," Ma continues, frowning. "You're so secretive, you're gone so often, and when you are home, you're up in your room. And I'm not sure the football team has as many practices as you claim." Puck resists the urge to roll his eyes; he should have known that would come back to bite him in the ass. "Frankly, Noah, I'm worried."

"Why, exactly?" Puck asks slowly.

"All of your behavior is concerning," Ma says. "Maybe you should go up to your room, Julie."

Now Puck does roll his eyes. "Just spit it out, Ma. What are you so worried about?"

"That's not—that's exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about," Ma huffs. "So disrespectful on top of everything else."

"What are you even talking about?" Puck demands. "What do you think is going on?"

"Drugs, Noah. Underage drinking and illegal drugs."

Puck can't really deny the underage drinking, not when they've been able to snag alcohol every week or two for months, but the drugs thing is a new one, especially since it’s not even like he’s had a report card for her to complain about. “What?” he says, dumbfounded. “Drugs?”

“What else could it be, Noah?” His ma shakes her head, and she looks very sad suddenly. “And I’m afraid you’ve dragged Finn into it. I’m going to have to talk to Carole.”

Puck groans and shakes his head. “It’s not drugs, Ma.”

“Then what is it? Why are you always off spending time with Finn, or supposedly with Finn, if it’s not drugs?”

“I don’t know, ‘cause I like spending time with my boyfriend?” Puck replies, and it’s not until Julie squeaks and his ma’s face literally drains of blood that Puck goes back over what he said. “Oh.”

“Finn and Noah, sitting in a—”

“Go upstairs, Julie,” Ma cuts in, looking absolutely furious and pointing towards the stairs. Julie runs off and Ma turns to Puck. “Your boyfriend? Are you making a joke here, Noah?”

“No, I’m not joking, Ma,” Puck says, sighing. “I just wasn’t planning on telling you yet.”

“Telling me what? That you’re experimenting? Dragging Finn into this, instead?”

Puck scowls. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“Are you saying you’re actually gay?” his ma asks, and Puck nods, still scowling at her. “Really. You’re not interested in girls at all.”

“When have I ever said I was?” Puck retorts.

“This—I don’t agree with this, Noah.”

“Uh, what’s there to agree to?” Puck asks. “I didn’t ask you if I was gay, yes or no. I told you I was. No girls. Boys.”

“No.” His ma says it firmly. “No, you’re not. You’re not supposed to be gay, Noah. You’re not gay.”

“Uh, pretty sure I am,” Puck insists. “I’ve been sure for months now.”

“Months?!?” Ma yells, and Puck winces. “What have you been doing, Noah?”

“Nothing!” Puck yells back. “Nothing bad or illegal or whatever.” It’s not totally true, since the alcohol is technically illegal, but Puck figures that’s the least of their worries. “I’m just gay. That’s all!”

“That’s not anything small!” Ma yells again. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me, to your sister.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Puck says incredulously. “I’m not doing anything to you.”

“And yet you just expect me to accept it suddenly?” Ma shakes her head. “I can’t do that, Noah. I won’t. I can’t accept it.”

“I don’t even know what there is to accept,” Puck says angrily, standing up. “I like guys. Period. That’s it.”

“You can’t just be gay!” Ma counters. “Not so suddenly.”

Puck rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I was gay the whole time. It’s not a big fucking deal, Ma!” With that, Puck leaves the kitchen and heads up the stairs, closing his door and then sitting down against it. For whatever reason, it is some kind of fucking big deal to his ma, and Puck has no idea what to say to her. Carole’d pretty much taken it all in stride, and Puck figures he can handle some kind of response that involves people wanting to beat him up. His ma’s inability to really listen, though, he hadn’t counted on, and he sits there, losing track of time, before he grabs the phone and sits back against the door, dialing Finn and listening to the phone ring. It rings three times before Carole answers, and it takes Puck a moment to respond to her greeting.

“Hey. It’s Puck. Is—is Finn finished with dinner?”

“Just a second, Noah,” Carole says, and Puck can hear her put down the phone.

“Hello?” Finn says when he picks up. “Puck?”

“Hey.” Puck sits silently for a few beats too long. “So, uh, Ma found out.”

“Found out? Found out about—oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” Puck snorts. “Can I come over?”