A/N: My first Pinn story. I started off as an avid Furt shipper, but this pairing just works somehow. Have fun, there probably won't be anything that you haven't read before, but hopefully the Pinn shippers will appreciate the effort.

I Wonder…

I wonder how he thinks. Finn sat cross-legged on the floor of Puck's dark bedroom, his back against the hard, cold set of bedside drawers, his head turned to the left with heavy eyes. He had never really understood how his friend thought or how he perceived the world, and that was saying something; Finn probably knew Puck the best out of anybody, although still only fractionally. It was sad, in its way, intriguing in another. Puck liked to present the front of being the stupid, simple thug, probably because that was the easiest thing to be, but Finn knew better; he just couldn't access the deepest regions of Puck, like he was missing the last piece of the Mohawked puzzle.

I wonder why his bedroom's so scarce. Apart from the single bed with thin, plain deep blue sheets and the guitar proudly displayed in the middle of the bare furniture, there was not much else. The music was obviously the most important thing; the guitar was the only thing besides the bed not covered in a light dust, untouched. It was comforting to know that Puck always had the music at least, to help him articulate things in a way that he could and a way that he was so talented at as well. There was always that one thing to hold onto when he believed there to be nothing else.

I wonder how scared he is, really.He's the tough guy, that's one thing that Finn did know. It was Puck's job to be the tough guy, in any and every situation. Finn knew through his long experience with Puck, through the years that they had spent together playing with each other, growing up, being kids, that Puck could never be the sensitive one. Anyone could see that, fairly stereotypically, Puck's father leaving in the blaze of bitterness that he did had affected Puck immeasurably, but Finn bet that they wouldn't have guessed just how he was affected; the distrust, the slamming of all open doors. The only way that Finn had survived the cull was due to their history, nothing more, and then Puck had never quite been the same.

That was why, after all, that Finn found himself sleeping on Puck's bedroom floor for the third Saturday in a row. Puck's mom had got a new boyfriend. This was not a rare occurrence, but it was rare for them to stay around for so long. Finn had spent years hanging in the background noise of Puck's house, so he knew the general vibe of his mothers' suitors, and it wasn't a great one; to say that they were heavy handed in pretty much every aspect was an understatement. Puck had used the excuse of simply wanting some bonding time initially, but both boys knew before these weekly visits even began that that line was a load of crap. They wouldn't talk about how the new mans presence was really effecting the already fragile dynamic of the residence, but Finn didn't have to talk, and he felt honoured, as he always did, that he was the one person allowed into Puck's severely small inner circle.

I wonder why he takes such punishment, he doesn't have to. If Puck wanted, he could be strong enough to leave his mess of a mother and never look back; he already had plans to leave Lima, eventually. But obviously, Finn remembered with a sigh, he couldn't leave Sarah, his little sister. Puck's protection was the only reason their mother's "boyfriends" didn't go on at her like they did him. He had no choice but to stay, and Finn felt a swell of pride for his gently snoring friend as he considered how much of a burden that he carried, all to save a wonderful little girl's optimism. Finn had offered Puck and Sarah sanctuary in the form of his sofa bed many times over the years, but Puck couldn't admit defeat; he would not be driven away from his childhood home. Although it was now the site of his pain and misery, Puck had had some good times there in the past, he couldn't give that up.

Puck turned in his sleep, his docile face becoming basked in the gentle moonlight that filtered its way in through the crack in the curtains. Puck had always been beautiful, ever since he was a young child, and Finn had always admired that about him. The way that the silvery bask glinted off of Puck's skin made Finn smile warmly, despite the hefty thoughts wading through his brain, disrupting the possibility of any sleep. Of course, it wasn't until recently when they had started at McKinley High that Finn truly understood the reasons behind his admiration, and that they may cause problems in the future but, for now, he was just going to enjoy the sensation. After all, you could never know, not for sure.

I wonder…