Author's Notes: Written for the darkship prompt meme, the prompt: "take everything you've got." TBH, I kind of hashed this out in like an hour to try and help my writer's block; I'm not sure how good it is.
Tear
The summer before sophomore year, there's a party. Puck's wasted and Santana's PMS-ing and won't put out, and altogether he's pissed.
He sees Quinn Fabray sitting on a table, legs dangling out of her cheerios uniform. Goldmine.
"Q," he says, pacing up behind her. She tries to look back at him, and he catches her by the arm. "Don't turn around."
She obeys, tensing at his touch. "What do you want?"
"Just looking for a good time," he tells her, breathing hot against her neck. "You're so fucking wound up all the time. It's kind of hot and seriously annoying at once..."
Quinn shivers. "Finn is..."
...Right there, watching Puck flagrantly hit on his girlfriend. Puck catches his eye across the room, staring as he takes a sip of his beer. Puck knows he should stop. This is the bit where he should run across and tell Finn it was nothing, or just plead being drunk – but he doesn't. Maybe it's just because his vision's not quite good enough to see the look in Finn's eyes, but him watching everything makes Puck want it more.
"Shush up, Q; stop playing the friggin' matyr," he tells her, one hand wrapping around to ghost up her thigh. "I mean, forget everyone else – what would you want?"
Across the room, Finn licks his lips.
Quinn gives a tiny whimpering sound that might just have Puck bending her over right here and now if he could tear his fucking eyes away from her boyfriend for three seconds. "Puck," she whispers.
"That's right. Just do what you want."
She slaps his hand away, and tenses up completely. "For god's sakes, Puck, stop it."
She's finally turned to face him and he raises his hands in surrender. "Whatever," he says. "I can get laid anyway."
He starts to walk off, sending one last look to where Finn was watching them. He's gone.
"I saw you with my girl on Friday."
Puck bites his lip. He doesn't know how this is gonna play out, but he finds he's not panicking as much as he should be. Weird.
"...Yeah, I know. Look, man, I'm... sorry, or whatever; can't believe I just said that word, but – I was drunk, you know? It's not like anything really happened. Come on, can't it just sort of be one of those things we forget about?"
His excuses are shitty and he knows it; Finn won't meet his eyes for a long moment. Now he's starting to panic.
"So... we cool?"
Finn looks him in the eye again. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever."
Puck blinks.
"...Cool," he says. It's a total anticlimax, and sometimes Puck's a bit more dramatic than he'd like. He can't help but stare at the look still on Finn's face.
He doesn't look depressed or anything, just... kind of empty.
That, and happier than Puck's ever seen him.
The Great Quinn Fabray's Panties aren't that hard to get into in the end. He doesn't know why Finn's always let her be such a cocktease.
"He's going to miss you, you know," she says as she pulls her hair back into it's ponytail and he does up his jeans.
"...What the fuck?"
"When he figures it out, Puck," she says like it's obvious. "Don't pretend he won't. You two couldn't get yourselves out of each other enough to lie that long."
"Bet you won't be saying that in a minute," he smirks and her, and she gives him a knowing nod. Okay, she's getting kind of scary now.
"You're probably right," she says. "Now get out of my house."
Finn's falling apart thanks to the baby. Puck knows it, and knows he should probably feel more guilty than he does – it's his kid, after all. Maybe he should just tell Finn. He really does want to be the daddy, much as Quinn tells him he sucks, and maybe if Finn hears it from him he'll handle it easier than what will happen eventually.
But when he sees Finn cry when he thinks Puck see, or fall asleep when he can't, or just slowly lose than damn way of being Finn fucking Hudson – it's a nasty little taste of victory he's not giving up.
He blames Kurt Hummel. And Quinn, but he's so fucking used to blaming her for shit by now it doesn't even matter.
He's pissed. Q's kicked him out of that baby's fucking life for good – he knows it's all his own fault, but he's pissed anyway.
To deal with this, he gets Finn drunk. Hey, it works with most of his issues. "To the last fucking months of your life, dude."
Finn cringes. "Fuck you."
"You wish," he says, and because he's irrationally bitter, he keeps going– "What would your fucking precious baby momma say if you did? You've got to play the good daddy now."
"Don't talk about her like that," Finn says, but it comes out weak and pathetic. Puck snorts.
"Stop me." And Finn can't, he knows that. Then suddenly Puck loses his mind, and pins Finn down by the wrists. "Think about it, man. How would she freak if she saw me like this, holding you down and having you just take it? Or what about whatever happened with Berry – everyone knows she was over your house for a reason last Friday."
"That was Kurt's fault!" Finn protests, before he starts registering the rest of Puck's sentence. "Wait, dude–"
"Then lets make it yours." He's drunk and adventurous and there's something he wants from Finn; he doesn't even know what. And he lets go but moves down, before his face is in front of Finn's dick and Finn clearly doesn't know what Puck's doing anymore than Puck does.
He gets Finn's jeans and underwear down and gets just the tip in his mouth. He's weirdly nervous, because he's never done this before – he's not fucking gay. But this is about more than that. He doesn't know what, but that's not the point. Finn doesn't take much skill anyway; he's groaning and grunting and grabbing Puck's hair, and it takes him all of five seconds to come, the pussy.
And Puck swallows. It's slimy and gross and salty, but Puck likes it anyway. When he looks up, Finn's face is red and flushed. "Um. Thanks."
"You're welcome," he says, and he kind of wants to laugh, because he remembers – Finn's still fucking dating Quinn. And he just let Puck give him a blowjob. Oh well; maybe Puck'll pick up some higher notes from having his mouth around the same dick Berry probably did.
He spies his phone out of the corner of his eye, and remembers why Q cut him out – Santana. Bitch was a fucking hypocrite about it, really. But he guesses everyone is, really; now, he knows for a fact Finn is. Because if Quinn pretends Finn's some great stand-up guy who's way better than what she did to him, Puck knows the truth – Hudson'd give up any of that good-guy style for a mouth on his dick for a minute.
Puck knows why he did it now.
Finn loses his shit and dumps her after he finds out the truth anyway. He says he's not cool with Puck. It's about as dramatic as Puck was expecting, and Berry must be fucking happy.
Speaking of her, she and Finn finally get their shit together. Except Finn's clearly having issues with it – of course he is. Rachel actually treats him like a decent human being and everything.
Finn never says a word to him, but Puck just waits, like there's something about to be unlocked and it'll be fucking amazing for them all. Or possibly deadly, he doesn't know.
And one day, he meets Finn's eyes across the basketball field and he gets it. Like, really. Because it doesn't matter if Finn never speaks to him again; Puck knows what Finn really wants from him–
He wants Puck to tear him apart.
Well, fine. Puck can totally play it that way.
Finn doesn't hate him. Not really. He thinks he should, but Puck can tell the difference. When Hummel sings that song in the middle of glee and Puck whispers in Finn's ear what a faggot he is as they leave, it's fucking love he sees on Finn's face.
It's screwed up like nothing before, but Puck likes it that way.
And when he presses Finn up against the door of St. Dickface's car, grinds against him hard, whispering filthy insults in his ear – cockwhore, faggy slut, mine – yeah, that's love.
Really, Puck doesn't have a fucking clue what he's doing. He goes after Rachel because – she's a hot Jew, and he wants Finn to punch him sometime in the neck century. He thinks he's a little addicted to Finn's pretend-hate, but whatever, there are worse things.
Again, Finn loses his shit over Berry. He dumps her and won't listen to a word she says about what she did.
He doesn't even bother trying to be pissed at Puck.
It's so fucking good Puck doesn't even notice how disappointed he is.
Q wants to jump Finn's bones.
Of course, she did her love shit like a year ago, but Puck sees something's changed now. They're either fucking around behind Sam's back, or they're like three seconds from it. It's kind of fun to watch, actually.
And his girl San somehow gets them both to have mono – that bitch is fucking amazing sometimes – and Puck's just enjoying himself too much to think.
"You're a hypocrite."
"I don't know what that means," is all Finn gets out before Puck has him pinned against the wall and bites into his neck, hard. "Fuck!"
"You act like you deserve so fucking much," Puck mutters, rubbing hard against his hip. He can feel Finn getting more turned on by the second. "Like you're such a good person. Really, dude – you're no better than the rest of us?"
"Oh god, Puck–"
"'Fess up. You're pissed Berry hooked up with me – you want to suck my dick the next day. You dump Quinn for screwing me – your trying to fuck around with her behind her boy's back all of a sudden. I know who you are, dude."
Finn whimpers slightly, and Puck doesn't even know why. "Puck, please."
"Why? You want me to shut up? You want me to fuck you? You want both? You want other?" he smirks, pausing as he grinds. "Select any that apply."
Finn's bleary-eyed and gasping, and somehow reality shows up – how'd that get in here? "Hurt me."
Fucking always.
Puck smirks and leans in close, close enough to kiss him – "Come to my place after school."
And Finn's flat on his back in his bed, making pretty little oh oh oh noises as Puck ploughs him hard and good – Puck would make fun of him for sounding like such a girl, but really, fucking always.
"That's right, take it you whore," Puck says, pulling roughly at Finn's hair to make the guy look him in the eye – and Finn does just what he says. He keeps his legs spread like a good little slut, moaning like he wants it harder and rougher.
"I'll tear you apart, Hudson."
"Good," is the last thing Finn says before he's thrusting back against Puck's dick desperately, fist clenching in the sheets. And really, Puck's not surprised when Finn starts coming, eyes scrunched up and mouth gaping open like a dead fish in a ridiculous O-face that makes Puck want to laugh as much as he wants to fuck Finn 'til he's a fucking wreck. Puck's pissed, because it is not fair Finn gets to come before him – in retaliation, he pulls the dude's hair harder and doesn't listen in the slightest to his little whimpering sounds of pain, even though Finn's probably too sensitive – he can't handle it, but Puck'll make him handle it. Because he can.
And when he comes, the world goes gray around the edges and he forgets to treat Finn like he fucking hates him, even though that's the whole point – he lets go of Finn's hair and presses a dry kiss down on his mouth. Finn just gasps as he feels Puck coming inside him, and that could go one way or another.
Except Finn's cuddling up to him as he pulls out, and Puck kind of wants to do what he thinks he's meant to according to the people who wouldn't know shit. Call Finn a girl for it and give in anyway. He kind of wants to, with a little sick feeling that's way too close to being kind of the tiniest bit in love with his best friend.
But he knows Finn. He knows what Finn wants from him, and if Puck was a bit in love – which he's not – it wouldn't matter. Finn's just addicted to the misery.
"Get the fuck away from me, fag," he says, pushing Finn off roughly. "And get out of my house."
Finn looks hurt, like he should. He gets up and starts getting dressed without a word.
And Puck kind of wants him to stay, but he doesn't say so. He just hopes Finn is destroyed to his fucking satisfaction already.