A/N: Not a new fic; I'm reposting the chapters of Irresistible as individual stories so that they can each be tagged for the correct characters. If you're new to Irresistible and care about the plot (such as it is), you should read the stories in order.

Sam throws the blanket over himself, but it's too late. "Goddamn it, Finn. Don't you ever knock?"

"Dude, the door wasn't even shut all the way," Finn defends himself as he pulls the door shut and locks it. But his mind isn't really on the door at all, it's on Sam in that fucking Cheerios uniform. He sits next to him on the bed and yanks the blanket off. Holy mother of god, Sam looks as hot in that outfit as... "Is that Brittany's? Holy shit, it does the same thing to you that it does to her!"

"Yeah." Sam's glad he doesn't have to explain, at least, because he's way too exhausted. Then again, he's way too exhausted to be getting hard again—like, it shouldn't be physically possible—but here he is. Hard for Finn.

Finn grabs Sam by the shoulders and kisses him hard. "I need you to fuck me," he says before he can even consider his words. As soon as they're out he's vaguely aware that they're wrong, that he could have just suggested blowjobs—or handjobs even—but now that he's said what he really wants he's not about to take it back.

"But you're not ready," Sam objects. "It takes time. I mean, unless you've got a buttplug in there..." He reaches down the back of Finn's pajamas and gropes his ass.

Uh...does Sam really think Finn might just happen to have been sleeping with a buttplug up his ass? But he does have a point about it taking a while to get ready for anal. That time Puck did him he spent like at least ten solid minutes stretching and lubing his hole first. But, oh fuck, it was worth it! Still, he can't exactly wait that long right now.

But he has an idea. "Handjobs! Then we're good for, like, twenty minutes—"

"Nineteen," Sam corrects him. "Approximately." He doesn't like where this is going. Or...he does like it, but he's so tired.

"Whatever, man. That's plenty of time for you to get me ready."

"But, Finn..." Sam's aware that his voice sounds whiny as hell, and he's not exactly happy about it but he doesn't exactly care that much either. He collapses onto his back but rubs Finn's thigh as he continues, "You have no idea how many people I've already fucked today and the two girls who just left—"

"You had two girls here just now?"

"Yeah, and it was brutal and I just wanna go to sleep but now I need to come again and I'd like to fuck you but I can't, I literally don't think I can, I'm not even sure if I have the energy to give you a decent handjob, and—"

Finn kisses him again so he'll be quiet and stop freaking out. "Okay, shh, it's okay," he says before kissing him once more. "Tomorrow? Will you fuck me tomorrow?"

"Sure," Sam mutters with relief.

"And...can I fuck you now?" Before Sam can make the predictable (yet reasonable) objections, Finn hastens to add, "I'll do all the work, you just have to lay there, just...just...please, Sam, I really..." He really needs something more than a lousy handjob. A handjob, that's just like jerking off—he does that all the time and he's still perpetually horny. And now seeing Sam in the uniform makes him need so much more than to be jerked off. "I'll stretch you out first and everything, and I promise I won't hurt you, just...please."

"I don't know if I can wait though..." The waiting, that was the worst. He wouldn't be nearly as exhausted as he is if those girls had just let him fuck them. He already really needs Finn to touch his dick. In fact...he grabs Finn's hand and places it under the spanks. Oh fuck, that's better.

Finn doesn't want to wait either, but he totally knows what to do. Sam literally won't have to do anything, not even jerk him. "Lay flat on your back," he says, and Sam unthinkingly complies. He pulls Sam's spanks down, then his own pajama pants and underwear, and lies on top of him.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Sam says as soon as their cocks touch. "You're a genius, Finn. Fucking dry hump me." Wait, is this kind of humping considered dry, or is that only if you're still dressed? Fuck, what difference does it make? He needs it, exactly what Finn is doing, whatever you call it.

Finn realizes he could hump Sam a lot more effectively if his knees were on the mattress, but he can't do that with his pajamas around his thighs. He rolls off to the side for just a second to get rid of the PJs. As soon as their dicks lose contact with each other, Sam whines and goes, "No, no, don't go away! Please!"

"Relax, dude, I'm just trying to make it easier to grind against you."

"Oh, thank god." Sam can't go through a repeat of the psycho cheerleaders encounter, he just can't.

Freed from his clothing from the waist down, Finn straddles Sam, holding his upper body up with his arms. He's got much better leverage now, and when he grinds against him long and hard, Sam shudders under him with relief.

Finn feels that same relief—this is good, and it's definitely going to get them off. It's just...there's something weird about it. Aside from the obvious, that is.

It's the way Sam's not even looking at him, he decides, and they way they're not even touching, really, except for their junk. He knows this is all about the uniform and its crazy powers—it's not like he and Sam are in love or like he even remotely wants them to be in love—but he feels like they should be connected by more than just their genitals.

"Sam, man, can I kiss you?"

Sam doesn't answer, he doesn't open his eyes even, he just reaches up and pulls Finn's head down to his. Finn's tongue plunges into his mouth, which makes him imagine Finn's dick plunging into his ass. It's totally for the best that Finn has decided to just dry (?) hump him instead, but he can't help but feel a little bummed that he's not going to get fucked. Finn fucking him would be so good.

Of course, this is really good too, Finn's dick grinding against his. Exhausted as he is, he can't help but grind back. And, although they really couldn't be rubbing against each other much harder, he finds that he's clutching Finn's ass and pulling him in with something like desperation.

Sam's fingers on his ass—a couple of them definitely inside his crack!—only drive Finn even crazier. "Fuck me," he mutters into Sam's mouth. And then, as he imagines Sam doing just that, he realizes his release is imminent. He bunches the sheet up in his fists just as hot jizz gushes out between his and Sam's already friction-scorched bodies.

A few seconds later Sam follows suit, digging his fingers in painfully and crying out weakly. Finn, actually able to think sort of clearly now, kisses him to muffle the sound. Usually his mom and Burt are pretty sound sleepers, but he doesn't want to risk it.

Sam doesn't have the energy to return Finn's kiss—nor the desire, now that it's over. His body feels as limp and formless as a beanbag. He just lies there with his eyes closed, completely motionless, even when Finn pulls a t-shirt or something out of his drawer and wipes the come off his stomach. He does, however, sleepily wish Finn a good night as he hears him leave.

He tries not to fall asleep before taking the uniform off. Sleeping in it is too dangerous, he's realized. Plus the polyester skirt irritates the skin on his cock, which is a wee bit tender right now. Still, he doesn't quite have the energy yet to remove the garment, so in the meantime he just flips it up onto his stomach.

To Sam's surprise, Finn is back before he falls asleep or takes the uniform off. "What...?"

"What what? I got some lube."

"Lube?" Sam honestly doesn't know if Finn's not making any sense or if he's just not following because he's half-asleep. "But we already..."

"You said I could fuck you. Remember? I mean if you wanna do me that's cool too..." It's actually what Finn would greatly prefer, but he's not going to say that. "...but you said you were too tired and I promised I would do all the work, remember?"

"But..." Even if he did agree, which he's not totally sure of, that was before...

"C'mon, man. I'll be super careful so it won't hurt, and you don't have to do anything, and...and that uniform...I need to!" This isn't a lie, Finn tells himself. He knows he's not technically under the uniform's power at the moment, but he still feels like he needs Sam to fuck him and, failing that, like the only possible substitute he can make do with is him fucking Sam.

"Yeah, okay," Sam says. He doesn't totally understand how Finn can need it again already, because it hasn't been anywhere close to nineteen minutes and Sam isn't even remotely interested again yet, but mainly he's too tired to argue. If all he has to do is lie there and take it, then fine. He does have the presence of mind to stipulate one condition: "You gotta be really careful though. Cause I never...I mean, yesterday was the first time...and it hurt afterwards so..."

Finn wonders who fucked him yesterday. Puck, probably. Finn was sore, too, after Puck fucked him. Not that that was the main reason he freaked out about it so hard afterward, or really even a reason at all. No, he freaked out for the very simple reason that he liked it. A lot. And now he's trying very hard not to freak out about how he wants it again, from Sam.

Of course there's no reason to freak out now. It's the uniform, plain and simple. He literally can't help how bad he wants it. He's vaguely aware that there's a tiny flaw in his reasoning, but he doesn't let himself think about that now. Luckily he has other things to concentrate on, like getting Sam ready.

Finn rolls Sam onto his stomach. He squirts quite a lot of lube in his crack, and then adds a little more to his fingers, before he starts poking around back there. It feels cold and kind of weird, like...even weirder than when Blaine did it. But it doesn't feel especially bad—or especially good, for that matter—and soon the goo isn't cold anymore and he gets used to the probing, and he starts to drift off...

...until Finn shakes him urgently. "Dude, it just kicked in for me again. Did it just kick in again for you too?"

"Huh?" Sam doesn't understand the question. Just kicked in? He thought Finn was under the effects of the phlebotinum the whole time.

But when he turns to look back and Finn he feels his cock stir and grow against the mattress, and he forgets all about whatever it was that was confusing him. He shifts a little, spreads his legs wider and lifts his ass as much as he has the energy to, and says, "Yeah. Yeah, Jesus, Finn, fuck me."

And, god, Finn is beyond relieved—he was actually starting to think Sam might be asleep or something.

He really hopes Sam's stretched enough. Well, he's been working his asshole open for almost twenty minutes, so he must be, right? He's used plenty of lube. It's all over the place, making Sam's ass all shiny and glistening. So fucking welcoming. Christ. He presses the tip of his cock up against Sam's lube-slick entrance and, using every ounce of self-restraint he possesses, forces himself to ease in slowly. "Fuck," they both gasp, more or less simultaneously.

Finn can't believe how good it feels. Like, partly it's just the uniform, obviously. But he's never fucked anyone in the ass before—it's not a request he would have ever even considered making of Rachel—and now he is seriously regretting all those times he refused Puck's requests that he do so. Sam is so hot inside, and so tight, and it's all he can do not to just pound him as hard and as fast as humanly possible.

"Fuuuck," Sam moans into the pillow as Finn slowly fills him. It doesn't even hurt. Like, not at all. Unless, of course, you count the frustration of Finn taking for-fucking-ever as a kind of pain...which it actually sort of is. "Faster," he begs.

"But..."

"Yeah, in my butt. Faster."

"But you just made me promise to go slow."

"Are you high? Quit messing with me and fuck me faster. Dude!"

Is Finn high? Maybe the uniform has side effects he doesn't remember from when he fucked Brittany in it. Because he was too high to remember afterwards. That would make so much sense. After all, Sam should know if he said to go slow or not. And if he didn't...then this is going to be a lot more fun.

He pulls most of the way out and then slams back in, all the way, just one powerful thrust that doesn't stop until he's balls-deep and can't physically get any farther in. Without giving Sam a chance to catch his breath he does it again. And then again.

Sam can't hold his ass up even a little anymore. He can't do anything but tremble and scream into his pillow. It's wonderful, it's incredible, it's the best thing ever. Does it hurt? Yeah, kinda, but even the pain feels good.

Finn is making some kind of hissing noise in his ear, but he can barely hear it over his own screaming, much less begin to make any sense of it. And he honestly doesn't care that much, because each time Finn's dick slams into his prostate just brings him that much closer to...to...Oh fuck!

Oh fuck, something's between his mouth and the pillow, and he finds himself biting down on it as he mindlessly humps and unloads on the mattress. Finn cries out too as he releases his seed inside Sam's ass.

Sam goes all beanbaggy again, and he's instantly very nearly asleep, but Finn wants to talk for some reason, apparently. "Huh?" he asks groggily.

"I said you bit my hand!"

"I...why'd you put your hand in my mouth?"

"Because you were...shit!"

"Huh?"

"Quiet!" Finn whispers.

There's a knock at the door. "Sam?" It's Carole! "Is everything okay?"

Oh shit, oh shit! "Say you had a nightmare," Finn whispers.

"You had a nightmare," Sam whispers.

"No. Say, 'I had a nightmare' loud."

"I had a nightmare loud." At least he doesn't whisper it this time.

"What?" Carole asks. Then Finn hears Burt outside too, hears the two of them talking to each other. "I think he said he had a nightmare," he hears Carole say to Burt. Then louder, to Sam, she says, "Are you okay now?"

Finn whispers, "Say yes." But it's no use, Sam is totally asleep, so he disguises his voice as best he can and goes, "Uh-huh!" Carole and Burt mutter to each other some more, but soon they walk away.

"And that's why I was trying to cover your mouth, you doofus," Finn says softly, although he knows Sam doesn't hear him.

He listens at the door to make sure the coast is clear, but just before he's about to go back to his own room he has a disturbing thought. Sam is pretty out of it. What if he got up to go to the bathroom or something and didn't think to take the uniform off and ran into Burt or...or Carole, and...No. No fucking way he's going to let that happen. He strips Sam naked, covers him with a sheet and blanket, and takes the uniform back to his own room.