Finn's forehead chilled as he pressed it against the cool wall in the showers, feeling the heat of the water beat hard on his back.
Coach Beiste had kept him long after practice, along with Puck, Mike and Sam; something about something about shaping up from Glee. He'd ran long and hard, doing drills he'd never heard of, dragging Mike along with him as he'd struggled for his life.
Okay, perhaps his life wasn't dangered, but it'd felt like it, alright?
His towel felt rough and scratchy as he pulled it around his waist, stepping out onto the cold, wet tiles as the water dripped behind him.
Puck and Sam were bickering mindlessly as Puck pulled on his jeans, snapping out half-assed insults at the newest member of Glee, which all came out sounding familiar and fond, living proof that Sam was one of them now.
He'd worked his way into their friendship quite slowly; Puck hadn't been into him at first.
"Normal bros don't bleach their fuckin' hair to look like my sister's old Barbies, man."
But, after beating Puck's ass at Madden during a party at Santana's one night, Sam actually earned a name, one that wasn't 'Kid-With-The-Wig', for once.
Finn groaned in pain as he dropped onto the bench, leaning his elbows on his kneecaps, and his head into his hands.
"Hey man, what's up over there?" Puck asked almost smugly, knowing damn well that Finn had rolled his left ankle and possibly torn nineteen muscles.
"Shut up, dude," Finn moaned back slowly, words lacking any venom as he focused on his breath. He had a pain in his chest, a reminder of childhood, when he'd suffered from asthma. His calves were burning, something that football hadn't done since junior year. His thighs were throbbing, veins pumping hard with adrenaline, while his back ached intensely; wearing fifteen pounds of bullshit hadn't helped.
"Whatever, man," Puck shrugged carelessly, tying his shoes before coming up to stand. "I hear Schue's got a nice stash of weed in his desk, confiscated it from some poor sucker who wasn't me," he added smugly, eyes betraying his words. "That shit's good to numb the pai--"
"And get me kicked off the team, or worse," Finn interjected quickly, remembering that last time he'd gotten mixed up in drugs, he'd wound up on Glee. Turned out not so bad, really, but the first few weeks at least had been hell, and Finn was in no rush to find himself blackmailed into more after-school activities.
Puck shrugged as he zipped up his gym bag, heading to the door with a smirk on his face. "Hey, Evans?"
Sam looked up finally from his spot across the room, where he'd been drying his hair for a hell of a long time. "Yeah?"
"That stuff we talked about?" Puck asked vaguely, and Finn almost wanted to ask. Almost.
He was occasionally envious of the bond that Sam had with Puck. It wasn't like they were outstandingly close or any kind of weird shit like that, but Finn had spent a decade not having to share Puck with anyone, and the way he and Sam seemed to have their own mental radio station sometimes, well... it bugged him. But, the last time he'd pushed himself into Puck and Sam's girl-talk, he'd found out that Puck had told the kid about how he and Finn had had their first kiss together (they wanted to get it out of the way, okay?), and after that, he concluded it better not to know.
Finn watched as Sam blushed visibly, ducking his head before biting his lip. His hair fell over his eyes, covering the deep red flush that had spilled over his skin, and Finn tensed immediately, wishing he knew why the fuck that was.
"Yeah," Sam called back shakily, clearing his throat before looking up to Puck.
The door slammed loudly behind him, cutting the 'Three-Friends-Getting-Dressed' scene to one more like 'Sam-and-Finn-Half-Naked'.
"Did she make you do suicides?" Finn asked awkwardly, voice strained in pain as he sat perfectly still, unable to move as Sam shook out his clothes.
"Yeah, man, like eighty-five of them!" Sam confirmed, looking incredulous as he, too, sat perfectly still. "Are you... are you okay, though?" He asked much more softly, voice falling flat on the tiles spanned between them, rather than echoing through the locker room like some surround sound public announcement.
"Mmm, no," Finn moaned out roughly, shaking his head before forcing himself up straight, feeling his back burn as he shifted to look at Sam directly. "Well I mean yeah, I'll live, and all," he corrected lamely, not entirely sure if he meant his own words. "Just really fuckin' hurts."
Sam nodded in silence, before cracking a smile. It was soft and playful, sort of warm and kind of... nice.
"What?" Finn asked cautiously, not recalling having made any joke.
"Oh, um..." Sam shook his head awkwardly, shrugging crookedly before speaking. "You just don't really swear too much, it's.... it's just kind of..."
Finn's eyebrows rose in a prompt to continue, as Sam's words trailed off quietly, disappearing under the hum of the overhead lights, while his eyes found a seemingly awesome spot of interest on the floor.
"Oh," Finn answered back dumbly, not knowing what Sam was getting at, and not even entirely sure that he cared. By this point, he was seriously considering breaking into Schue's desk, to get at the blaze that 'wasn't' Puck's.
The locker room was silent for a time that went unmeasured, with Finn sitting tensely on the bench between the lockers. He'd still not gotten dressed, or even made any effort to properly dry off. He was silently freaking out over the possibility of having to phone Burt to literally carry him out of the school.
"Do you, um... do you need help?" Sam asked finally, breaking the silence that had grown to be comfortable.
Finn opened his eyes, not knowing they'd been shut, to find Sam still completely undressed, wearing a towel identical to Finn's, and not much else.
"I'd like to say no," Finn sighed deeply, laughing without humor as he finally shook his head. "But, you know, I've been sitting here for ten minutes, wondering if it'd be acceptable to call my step-dad at work to come pick me up?" He laughed dryly, mocking himself as he struggled to stand. "Ah, fuck."
"Hey, don't push it, man," Sam stood up quickly, at Finn's side in moments, spreading both hands over his chest.
Finn let Sam push him back down to the bench, feeling his chest expand by reflex under the pair of warm, comforting hands.
"Shit, man, I seriously think I'm--"
"Just sit, okay?" Sam cut in, hands pushing and pulling until Finn was straddling the bench, leaning forward as his back burned and buckled.
"Do you have any meds, man?" Finn asked tentatively, not entirely sure he'd want to take anything that Sam might have, anyway. He wasn't big on over-the-counter shit, and he knew damn well that knocking back other people's prescriptions was a hell of a bad idea. He'd taken ecstasy once and smoked up with Puck three, maybe four times, at most. Because, overall, he was a pretty straight cut guy.
"I got Asprin, but that's not gonna help you now," Sam answered easily, like he'd been expecting the question. "Let me," he started vaguely, and Finn didn't know what to make of it until he felt a pair of warm, rough hands rest on his shoulders.
Sam dropped down to the bench behind him, straddling it easily as his knees were suddenly pressed against Finn's hips.
"You don't have to... to..." Finn's decline trailed off almost sleepily as Sam's hands worked over the tension in his shoulders, kneading it away with a pressure that was-- "holy fuck, that feels good," Finn admitted honestly, laughing softly as Sam did the same.
"Cool," Sam answered softly, and Finn could hear a smile in his voice.
His hands disappeared as Sam crossed the room quickly, digging through his gym bag before dropping back onto the bench. Finn eyed up the bottle of lotion in Sam's hands dubviously, taking a breath to decline, before the warm, slick slide of skin again skin erased all thoughts completely.
Sam's hands kept warming, running over Finn's still-damp skin, heating the drops of water that had collected and stayed in the dipping points of Finn's shoulders. His neck was losing tension, as he felt a comfortable sort of ease wash over him, until Sam's hands dipped lower, down the middle of his back, spreading wide over his sides before dropping further still.
Finn cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say. Would it be weird to mention it? Would it be weird not to?
He settled for silence, closing his eyes as he let Sam's hands press over the skin just above the dampened towel, smoothing away the ache that'd been keeping him from straightening.
Sam's hands didn't stop, though, spreading further apart, around to Finn's hips, and it wasn't Finn's imagination when Sam shifted forward slightly, letting his chest brush against Finn's back, his lips against Finn's ear.
"Fuck," Finn cursed out roughly, tensing as Sam's left hand slid right around his body, resting low on his stomach, as the towel fell loose. "Dude, what... what... ugh," Finn's eyes slipped shut as Sam's mouth found that spot, that spot on his neck that made him...
Hard. So fucking hard, and Finn's face flushed violently quick as he realized that Sam's hand was about five inches away from about eight inches of serious hard-on.
"S-Sam, we can't-- what are you--"
"Relax," Sam cooed softly, and be damned if Finn could ignore a voice like that.
He swallowed deeply as Sam's hand slid lower, slipping under the towel that wasn't proving much point anymore. It stopped short, however, and Finn realized then that Sam's own erection was pressing against the curve of his ass.
His breath hitched as he was knocked dizzy with lust, wanting, needing, and hating that he did. He'd been careful, always careful, making sure that no one knew. Puck knew, of course, as did Kurt and his mom. But they were different, they weren't like this, they weren't random guys in the William McKinley locker room, getting him hard and desperate where anyone might see.
"Sam, no," Finn growled out roughly, moving one hand to cover Sam's below his navel. "We cannot do this," he began, punctuating each word with a long and serious pause, before giving up the notion entirely.
Sam's eyes were dark and lust blown when Finn turned back to look. His hair was a tangled mess, not wet, not dry, just fucking debauched. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his bottom lip was wet and red where he'd been biting it.
Finn Hudson was done for.
The kiss was hard and messy as Finn turned awkwardly to claim Sam's mouth. It tasted like berries, but Finn was too far gone to notice.
Sam's chest was warm against Finn's back, legs tightening around him as Finn pressed himself closer, hating the towel between them that was the only thing between his ass and Sam's cock.
Sam's hand slipped lower, closing the final distance, and Finn's breath hitched slightly as Sam's fingers brushed against him, before wrapping around his dick in a way that was warm and wet and good.
"Feel better?" Sam asked roughly, voice broken and low as he tightened his grip, hand big and soft as he rocked against Finn's ass.
"Was this your plan?" Finn gasped out, words erratic, as he saw in a new light the way Sam had sat around needlessly, undressed until Puck left.
"Was it a bad one?" Sam asked darkly, voice low in Finn's ear as his hand worked over his cock, tighter than Finn's own, hotter than anything.
"Fuck, no," Finn growled out finally, reaching back to grab at the towel between them, pulling it from it's lock between their bodies, before tossing it to the floor.
Sam's moan was almost instant, as his fully-hard dick slid between the crease of Finn's ass, a tease worthy of awards as Finn bucked back against it.
"Holy fuck, Finn," Sam cursed out behind him, words almost a whine as his hand stuttered over Finn's cock, loosing focus for a moment as Finn rode back against the dick he'd never had any plan to be on the end of.
"Please, Sam," Finn begged almost pathetically, bending forward over the bench as he kept his ass in Sam's lap, pressing his chest against the wood as Sam's hand was trapped between them.
"Fuck, seriously?" Sam asked incredulously, breath hitching around the words as Finn rocked back to prove his point.
It was a bad idea, a seriously fucking terrible one, but Finn wanted it, needed it too fucking bad to care. He'd been fingering himself since he'd first guessed he was gay. And after that had proven true, he'd spent a lot of nights alone, fucking random shit that looked like a good ride. But never, not once, had he ever had an actual dick.
"Please," he begged again, words almost lost under Sam's lustful moan.
"Fuck, yeah," Sam agreed finally, and Finn felt his hand dip down low between them, finding his hole before spreading the warmed, wet lotion over it.
Finn worked on steadying his breathing, closing his eyes as he focused on Sam's hand, fingers teasing around the hole that Finn prayed Sam would be balls deep in within the next seven seconds.
"Sam," Finn sobbed, losing patience as Sam slid a finger in, stretching him slightly, before Finn begged for more.
Two fingers felt better, and three was so fucking hot, but Finn wasn't taking the biggest risk of his life for something he could have done at home by himself.
"Fuck me, Sam," He bit out roughly, thrusting himself back on Sam's hand, feeling his fingers hit him deep, making his cock twitch against the bench.
Sam didn't reply as he moved quickly behind Finn, legs spread wide on either side of the bench as he put one hand on Finn's hip, the other wrapped around his own cock to keep it steady as Finn backed himself onto it.
"Fuck," Sam repeated over and over, voice low and almost awed as the head of his dick rubbed against Finn's slick hole.
"Do it," Finn begged shakily, holding onto the bench as he felt Sam shift forward, pulling Finn down until he was stretched wide open.
Sam's cock was wide and solid, bigger than anything Finn'd ever fucked. It burned painfully for a moment, as Finn adjusted to the feeling of sitting on the dick of the guy who was, technically, his first.
"You okay?" Sam asked breathlessly, sitting perfectly still as Finn panted beneath him.
"Move," Finn commanded roughly, whimpering under Sam as the football player listened.
It was slow and steady at first, an easy, rhythmed slide in and out, small thrusts as Finn struggled not to moan out Sam's name. But it got hard and quick real fucking fast, Sam's fingers digging into Finn's hips as Finn shoved himself back, harder, faster, deeper, harder, faster, deeper, harder...
"Fucking... tight," Sam sobbed out, riding Finn's ass rough and clumsy, hips stuttering in rhythm as Finn's did the same.
"Harder," Finn gasped out, biting his lip as Sam instantly listened.
It was painful and rough, until Sam's dick hit that spot, pounding it over and over until Finn forgot his name. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he rambled incoherently, feeling his entire body tense as Sam hit it one more time.
His cock throbbed against the bench beneath him, spilling a sticky mess between his abs and the wood. He cried out Sam's name, embarrassingly loud, until Sam's hips jerked shakily, and Finn was warmed from the inside out as Sam came hard, deep up Finn's body.
Finn struggled for breath as Sam did the same, feeling sticky and sore and messy and gross.
Sam stayed still for a moment, a minute, two, maybe ten, before pulling out slowly, leaving Finn aching and used against the locker room bench.
Neither spoke as Finn shifted, heading back into the showers, new aches in place of his old pains, as he turned back on the water.
His eyes fell shut as he leaned against the wall, letting the shower wash away the sweat, the lotion, and Sam Evans' come. He stayed still and silent, until he felt a hand on his hip.
He opened his eyes to find Sam staring at him, face soft and slightly worried as the water soaked down his hair. "Did I hurt you?" He asked quietly, pulling his hand back quickly, like he was no longer sure if it was allowed to be there.
"Mmm, no," Finn denied softly, shaking his head as he slumped under the water, feeling the wall against his back as he looked over Sam's body.
"If I did, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to... not so hard, I just--"
"You didn't," Finn repeated quickly, laughing softly as Sam ducked his head, biting his lip before smiling at Finn.
"So, you, uh... wanna... go get some fries with me?" Sam asked awkwardly, arms over his chest, as a flush filled his face. Finn remembered then Puck's ominous remark as he'd left the room, and felt his heart skip a beat as he wondered if this was what they'd been talking about. "If you don't wanna, that's... that's okay, too. I mean, I know that people just fuck sometimes, and I don't get to be all, you know, boyfriend-y, but--"
"Yeah, that'd be cool," Finn interjected softly, watching a smile light up Sam's face, as he turned away to hide his own.