A/N: I don't own Glee nor the characters within. This one got away from me, as well as I also like this one too much to post as a part of a collection, so here you go. :} Hope I still got my cred! XD Prompt from an anon; Finn and Santana are friends, bros even. They watch porn together, so what? It's not like they watch each other or anything. Thanks!
Finn's erection is too painful to ignore any more. Glancing over at Santana splayed out on his couch, eyes glued on the screen as her fingers twitch over her stomach, he quickly looks away, back towards the screen and the sight of his thighs and knees pointed towards the TV. It's not the most comfortable position he's ever been in, especially when watching porn, but he just doesn't know how actually going ahead and letting his erection out would go over. Sure, he'd lost his virginity to the girl, and it's not like she hadn't seen him before, but, but really. This is new.
Biting down on the side of his cheek, he curls his fingers into his palms, turning his whole attention back to the TV. It's painful, it's embarrassing, but truth is, he still hasn't been this turned on in a while.
Santana suddenly moves, a tight exhalation leaving her mouth. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can make out the pinched look on her face, flickering in the reflected light of the porno. "Finnocence," she suddenly gravels out, low and husky.
Finn instantly snaps into attention. "Yes?" he answers, swallowing as the girl on the screen moans loudly and strongly as the man pushes into her after teasing her for the past five minutes, her sounds swallowed as she pushes her mouth into the other girl's pussy. His hands moving to close over his renewed hard-on, he dares to look at Santana.
Her whole attention still on the TV, Santana's fingers are tight on the waistband of her sweats. "This is how it's going to be," she bites out, eyes suddenly flicking over to meet his, "You don't look at me and I don't look at you."
"Right." Finn nods forcefully, practically gasping as sweat beads on his forehead. His fingers already twitching over his dick, cramped in his boxers and jeans, he bemoans that he hasn't switched into his pajamas already as Santana has. And now, prevented from doing so as he doesn't want to miss any of the action, he groans and grits his teeth as he forces himself to believe in their agreement; slowly, loudly, his zipper lowers, and he's unable to keep back a hitched breath as his cock finally frees itself, practically slapping against his stomach. He's rarely ever been so turned on, probably a byproduct of being forced into the close quarters of Santana, one of the hottest girls he's ever known, even if they're best friends, made even more so with the knowledge that she could look over and see him at any moment.
Oh god. Finn swallows. He knows, catching the sound of Santana's hand slipping under her sweats, that if he dared to look over, he'd catch the sight of Santana gettin' off, but he'd promised. He'd promised, and as his hand closes around his shaft, thumb moving up to collect the pre-cum he'd already produced, he can feel how rigid his neck is as he forces himself to keep his eyes on the TV. He can feel how thick and turned on he is, moaning in the back of his throat as he slowly pulls his hand up. He's had over four years of pleasuring himself behind him, he thinks, barely blinking as he watches the man plow into the girl as her tongue slathers over the other girl, hands grasping her closer to bring her tighter against her mouth, all three gasping and moaning and writhing as they're feeling pleasure (fake as it may be – Finn doesn't know, as he's never paid that much attention to his porn), so he should be able to finish this quickly. He jerks himself, trying to keep his whole attention on the porn and not –
Santana makes a low sound, a gasping sort of noise, and Finn's stomach tightens as his dick jerks. Sure, Santana's his best friend, but she's also the girl he'd lost his virginity to, and – she makes another noise, a cut-off whimper of sorts, and Finn's jaw snaps shut. Oh god, he thinks, far beyond trying to keep quiet as he slides his hand up and down, twisting and playing with his head as he knows it'll quicken him up, oh god, another noise, another sequence of noises and – a quick gasp turns into another and another as Santana loses the battle, the wetness of her voice and what's she's doing under her sweats now noticeable over the sound of the television. His ears fixated on her, guilty even as it's happening, Finn's orgasm rises with Santana's barely audible whimpers, his breath quickening as hers does, his fingers tightening and grasping and pulling almost violently. He wants to – he has to – even if it's horrible, he knows, building higher and higher, tighter and tighter as he yanks his dick, flying up and down as he twists and presses and masturbates and listens to her and hears her – he has to –
As all three on the screen dissolve in their orgasms, wet and pulsing and vocal, Finn can feel the heavy start of his own orgasm, starting to shoot up through his dick. It feels unfinished, lacking until he grunts, then grunts again as he can't help but announce as he starts to cum anyway, Santana's voice loud and breathy in his peripheral as she joins him. Oh god, he thinks, jerking and cumming again and again, shooting and dribbling over his hand, together, they're doing this together. He and Santana and the pleasure and moment and the porn and the feelings and the reality, oh god the reality that she's listening to him too as she's touching herself and cumming just as much as he's cumming because of her! It's crazy, he gasps, milking the last of his orgasm, head lolling back against the chair, body twitching as he still concentrates on the sticky, wet sound of Santana coming down. His hand hasn't finished, still pumping as much as he can, as privately as he can until he registers the calming of Santana's breath.
As soon as he realizes Santana's coming down, Finn swallows, thumb swiping along the tip of his dick, squeezing and coaxing the quick rest out before pushing himself back into his boxers and superficial flaps of his jeans even before he's completely flaccid yet. He doesn't want Santana to look over and see him, he gulps, forcing himself to breathe in deeply, hand swiping along his hairline and pushing sweaty bangs back from his eyes. He's still turned on, he can't deny, legs shifting to hide his subsiding erection, but it's better than saying out loud, than admitting what he was doing.
Santana's breathing is slowing as well, the sound of her catching her breath almost equal to his desperate gasps. "Oh god," she whispers, almost inaudible, shuddering before the sound of her hand leaving her sweats plays over the credits of the movie. "That was…"
Finn nods, quick and tightly, still not looking at her. "Yeah."
"Fuck." It's almost like Santana laughs, stretching out on the couch and, as Finn dares to look at her, meeting his eyes with an amused gleam of her dark eyes, "You tell no one, I tell no one, and we…"
Turning in his seat, heart thumping, Finn swallows. "Yeah?"
Santana tilts her head, motioning at the television, teeth playing along her lower lip, "We can do this again."
Finn's cock pulses, jumping in his boxers. "Kay," he nods, grabbing a nearby pillow to place over his lap, blushing, "I'd really like that."
Santana looks at him, cheeks reddening as well. "Me too," she clears her throat, shifting, reaching for the remote to click the television over to MTV. Settling in as soon as it blossoms into existence, her voice sobers as she looks him square in the eye, "But I'll cut a bitch before admitting that."
