Hey, everyone. So I tried to write this as a venting tool because real life is...well, this right now. Ended up making me feel worse, but fic is fic. As always, please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. If I did, it would be going a hell of a lot differently this season.

Reality Hurts
One-shot

He tried not to think about it.

Tried not to think about the stupid game of Truth or Dare that ended in him making out with his best friend for the better part of an hour. By the end, no one had even needed to dare them before lips were pressed hard against lips and...

Puck had known he was bi for a while. He'd accepted it, told Finn, and all was well. Before that night, he'd never done shit with another guy outside of a peck with Finn in a different game of Truth or Dare.

But this last one, this last game, and the kisses that came with it...

He still thought about it, even months later. Felt the way his stomach twisted and butterflies that were way too fucking girly to describe started to fly around inside. Felt the way it hurt, because he shouldn't be feeling motherfucking butterflies because of a drunken make-out session with his best friend.

He tried not to think about how Finn had been the only one drunk.

Tried not to think about how he'd been stone cold sober the entire time.

Tried not to think about how those kisses made him feel more than he'd ever felt with anyone else. How he'd never wanted it to stop.

How just thinking about those fucking kisses put a pain in him he didn't even want to think about, because Finn snapped now. Any time someone even mentioned that night, he snapped at them to shut up. Puck tried to force back the hurt every time he thought about it, but it never really left.

He'd deny it to anyone else, but he'd thought about it. As they crashed in the same bed that night, he'd thought about it. About talking to Finn the next day and his best friend telling him he'd felt something there too.

Then Finn blew it off the next morning and Puck just faked a grin as they went on their way.

He tried not to think about how those kisses came to mind every time they were together now.

Tried not to think about how those happy little never-gonna-happen fantasies still popped up in his head and put a weight on his chest so heavy that he couldn't even breathe.

The day after that night, he'd told himself that it was in his head. That the only reason he'd felt anything that much was because it was the first time he'd ever actually done anything with another guy. What the fuck else was he supposed to do in a town like Lima? He didn't have any options outside of a drunken game with friends where they could blame it on the alcohol.

But he kept thinking about it. Couldn't get those thoughts and feelings out of his head and...

He had a thing for his best friend.

He tried not to think about it. He did.

Tried not to think about it, because it was never gonna happen.

He didn't call it love. Didn't know shit about love. Couldn't define the feeling if he wanted to.

Maybe calling it a thing just made it hurt less.

In one of Sarah's fairytales, this whole thing would have ended the way his head dreamed it. That he'd tell Finn he felt something, Finn would kiss him, and that would be that.

Life wasn't a fairytale, though. Never had been and never would be.

He'd fallen for his best friend. For his straight best friend.

You don't get more fucking cliché than that.

The End

PLEASE REVIEW!