WARNING: Contains homosexual relationship.

Also, this story gets a little hot and steamy. No, like, graphic descriptions or anything, but people do have sex, and you know they're having sex. I've put it on M, just to be on the safe side.

If anyone of you are uncomfortable with behaviour like this, then I advise not reading this.

If you're against same-sex relationships AND are uncomfortable with behaviour like this, then hoo boy this is not the story for you.

If you're alright with both, then come on in.

ALSO: this story is my incredibly incredibly late birthday fic for Curlscat. I've written you a birthday message underneath, and a very sincere apology.

This is my attempt at writing grounded, earthy sex. I don't know if this is exactly what you were looking for, but I've tired to keep in a reasonably relatable context.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sisters Grimm.


"Puck, get your ass over here and kiss me."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather put my lips a little lower."

"Already with the crude sexual innuendoes? The story's just started."

"Mmm..." Puck clambers onto the boy who's sitting on his bed (he had upgraded from his trampoline after an incident with an incendiary and a disgruntled chimpanzee) and rests his hands on Peter's shoulders. "Do you like me, Peter?"

"Ehhh... somewhat."

His response is instantaneous. "That's alright, I like me enough for the both of us."

"Narcissist."

"Not my fault there's just so much of me to love."

"Mmm, you have gotten a bit pudgier over the last few years. Softened some of that muscle into fat?"

"Yeah, shut up and lie down."

"Mmm. Now what?"

"Close your eyes."

"...That request makes me nervous. What are you going to do?"

"You'll like this, trust me."

"I will never believe that statement if it comes from you."

Puck sighs dramatically. He leans down and presses a long, almost tender kiss on Peter's neck. "Does that convince you now?"

"Mmm."

"Alright, don't open them."

"I won't."

Slowly, Puck begins to trail kisses down Peter's body. He presses his lips to his boyfriend's forehead, then moves down; his cheek, along his jawbone, down his neck and across his shoulders. Peter smiles at the warmth of the boy he loves.

"I kind of hate you right now," he murmurs, as he tangles his hands in Puck's hair.

"Mmm and why is that?"

"Cause boys who never grow up aren't meant to fall in love."

Puck chuckles. He plants another kiss on the boy's chest. He pulls back, and rests on his heels. "I love you too," he says (though the mussed up hair and lack of a shirt somewhat ruins the effect).

"Lie down with me, Puck."

"Don't you want me to finish up?"

"Puck, I'm not having you 'put your lips a little lower' while there are still people in the house. What if Sabrina walks in to find your head between my legs?"

"Grimm? Nah, she's tougher than that, she'd just walk right back out. Now if Pinhead walked in..."

"He'd probably throw a pencil at us."

"He'd probably scream first, then throw a pencil at us."

"Well you can't exactly blame him."

"Depends where the pencil ends up."

"Be quiet and let me put my arms around you."

"Aw no sex?"

"I thought we already established that."

"Ugh, fine. Your loss."

The boy mutters something that sounds peculiarly like 'narcissist' under his breath, as Puck lies down and rests his head in the crook between Peter's neck and the bed.

"Oi, Peter."

"Yeah?"

"I've got an idea for something fun."

"What kind of fun?"

"The 'it benefits both of us' kind of fun."

"Mmm, I'm listening."

"Let's have sex."

"What did I just say to you."

"Now, hold on a second, don't reject it quite so quickly."

"There is no conceivable line of logic you could possibly use that would convince me to say otherwise."

"Shhh listen. Besides, this is more a sentimental reason than anything else."

"I didn't know you were sentimental."

"You don't know a lot of things. Now I, on the other hand-"

"-know even less-"

"-it's rude to interrupt goodlooking people-"

"-then I've obviously been on spotless conduct."

"..."

"..."

"That was some pretty badass rapid-fire banter."

"Mhm."

"Right, so, my reason."

"Your reason."

"We're going to go public with us soon, right? A couple months or weeks or whatever."

"Yeah."

"Well, after we go public, we won't have to sneak around anymore."

"That is kind of the reason why we're doing it, Puck."

"Yeah, stop interrupting. After we go public, then we'll lose our ability to mess people up with our mojo. Everything we do that's lewd is going to be chalked down to PDA and teenage hormones."

"Is everything you do a plea for attention?"

"Everything I do is an authoritative command for attention."

"So yeah, same thing."

"If you were smart like me, you would understand that having someone's attention and being hot is everything you need to make someone do whatever you want." he trails his fingers down Peter's chest. "And I like making people do what I want."

"It's a shame you miss in both requirements."

"I managed to persuade you to have a one-night stand with me."

"Only cause you roofied me."

"In that case, you were pretty loud for someone under drugs."

"I am not a screamer."

"You're really vocal for a non-screamer then."

"I'll have you know— Oh shit."

The reason for Peter's sudden expletive is because Puck had just snaked his hand under Peter's pants, and grabbed hold of something. The fairy smirks, and pulls his hand out.

"Oh yeah," he says, "reeeeal stoic."

"Shut up."

"So, my reason."

"Your reason."

"If we're running out of time to mess around with the Grimms, then I say we go out with a bang. Screw them over one last time, by screwing each other when they're still in the house."

"If we're doing it in your bedroom with the door closed, then it's not really screwing them over."

"Can you stop pointing out the flaws in my logic and let me penetrate you."

"Absolutely not."

"And you're sure about that."

"Yes."

"I can't convince you otherwise?"

"I don't like where this conversation is headed."

Puck grins devilishly. He shimmies up to press his lips against Peter's, while reaching down to cup his boyfriend's groin with his right hand.

"Ooh, do I feel something down there?"

"Puck, I swear to God..."

"If you want me to stop, then say so."

"Stop..."

"Say it and mean it, I mean."

"I did— oh." The boy sucks in air.

"Heh."

For a few minutes, there is silence. Peter's resolve weakens, his hands tangle in Puck's hair, and he closes his eyes again as the fairy moves his hand in almost sinful ways downstairs. The things he feels are not feelings appropriate to be read by little kids. "Puck..." he groans.

"Mmm?" Puck pauses in his unbuttoning of the boy's jeans, and moves his lips from their current position of being attached to Peter's stomach. "What is it?"

"Hurry it up."

"That's what I thought," Puck grins, and resumes what he was doing before. He finally manages to slide his boyfriend's pants off, and gets to work on his own trousers. They soon join the pile of clothes on the floor.

Moving his hand away, he now shimmies back up so his head is facing Peter's, pressing his body against his. His boyfriend looks somewhat sweaty now.

"If you didn't bring a condom, I am going to get the worst case of blue balls."

"Oh, so now you're on board with this whole idea? Didn't take an awful lot to convince you."

"Yeah, shut up."

The fairy laughs, and kisses him. "You need to get a better comeback," he says, when he pulls away.

"You need to get a larger unit."

"Oh, that cut deep, that was not necessary."

"It probably went deeper into you then you will into me."

"You're such a snarky little brat."

Peter kisses his cheek. He appears to have recovered a bit from Puck's ministrations, and an easy grin slopes on his face. "You know you love me."

"I know I love certain parts of you," the fairy replies, and rubs a certain southern region of his against a certain southern region of his boyfriend's. They groan.

"Puck, stop teasing."

"Christ, yeah."

The fairy clambers on, tears the rest of their clothes off, and

Okey dokey, that's enough bangy bangbang description from that end. To avoid any of you readers who have flaming cheeks from tossing your laptop/desktop/phone/device out the window, the next little part will be written as if it were a screenplay, to make everything a little more mellow:

INT. PUCK'S BEDROOM - LATE AFTERNOON

SILENT. On-screen are two young males lying on Puck's bed. Camera zooms in rapidly to show that the two young men are indeed Puck himself and his boyfriend Peter. Camera zooms out a little to show that the two men are cavorting wildly.

Note: The two are really going at it. There is nothing slow or soft about their intense rite of passion. This is all skin on skin, sweat sliding down, hands bruising hips and frantic kisses.

Imagine a jackhammer going into a road.

That's pretty much what this is like.

CUE: Sound switches on. Audience is treated to the sounds of breathy grunts, six irregularly-timed moans, and a snigger as Puck says 'You really sound like you're enjoying yourself'.

Alright, I feel like that adequately sums up their lovemaking session.

.l.

As the two young men were getting it on like jackrabbits, Granny was setting the table for dinner.

"Henry, could you go and get Puck and Peter please? It's dinner."

"Knowing those two, they're probably busy stringing a net up in a tree or something."

"They'll come down for this. I made my famous calamari surprise just for them."

"Oh. What's in it?"

"Oh a little bit of this, a little bit of that. I managed to find a bit of barnacle to put in it, and some prunes."

"Prunes and barnacles... I see."

"So could you get them, please?"

"Yeah, alright." He walks up the stairs.

As he approaches the fairy's room, he starts hearing loud thuds and raised voices. They must be fighting again, he thinks. Why do they always have to be so physical? He reaches the door, where the thudding seems to have reached maximum volume, and they seem to be constantly shouting (though the screaming sounds an awful lot like moaning). They are really getting into each other. I should probably break it up before someone gets hurt.

He twists the door knob and opens the door.

"Oh my God!" Puck shouts, as he orgasms and slumps forward.

"Oh my God!" Peter shouts, as he climaxes onto Puck's bedsheets.

"Jesus Motherfucking Christ!" Henry swears and blasphemes, before he throws up into a bush.

.l.

"Why didn't you lock the door!"

"I was a bit preoccupied!"

"It's OK, I didn't see anything!"

"Yes you did!"

"Shut up!"

.l.

"They'll be... right down."

"Are you alright? You look ill."

"Huh? Oh right, yeah I'm fine. Just...

"Um...

"Saw something I didn't want to see."

Sabrina perks her head up. "Don't tell me Puck's doing that thing with the naked monkeys again."

"That's actually pretty close, Sabrina."

"Crap."

"I don't know what it is that I'm smelling but i want to eat it," Puck crows, as he saunters down the stairs. His walk is all swagger and style, the kind of walk you just know will end with him tripping over onto his face, and he looks brash and overconfident. Sabrina rolls her eyes.

There's a quiet fwwt, as something hits Puck in the leg. He has one second to register shock before his leg seizes up and he falls down the rest of the stairs.

Peter emerges laughing from the top of the stairwell.

"And they said that buying Bulgarian bullfrog venom was a waste of money," he gloats, as he comes down the stairs. He sticks his hand out to Puck, who's in a groaning heap on the landing.

"I think that's seventy-five to me, Puck."

Puck takes it. There's a click, Peter's face screws up, and his eyes start to water. He quickly tears off something strapped around Puck's hand.

"And that's seventy-eight to me, Peter," the fairy says.

"Seventy-nine. That's the second time I've fallen for the joybuzzer trick, so you get a bonus point."

"How honourable of you to remember." His grip tightens.

"I am nothing if not a man of my word." His knuckles whiten.

They glare at each other in aggressive alpha-male fashion, challenging each other through the strength of their handshake. You can almost feel the tension sizzling off them.

There's a not-so-quiet cough.

"Ok boys, break up the flirting, I'm hungry," Sabrina says. Her dad pales at her words. Puck and Peter flush, but they let go of each other's hands, and Puck turns to Sabrina.

"Geez, Grimm, when have you actually been excited to eat the old lady's food before?"

"I'm not. I made my own food."

"Oh."

The pair sit down at the dinner table, facing each other. (Under the table, Peter moves his foot to touch Puck's, and Puck winks at him.)

The ensuing dinner was normal and pleasant to all but Hank Grimm.

As in, the man who walked in on a certain annoying obnoxious fairy making the beast with two backs with a certain annoying obnoxious pixie boy thing was not particularly enjoying himself.

Oh my Jesus. It just keeps repeating itself.

Over and over again.

Turning the doorknob.

Hearing... things.

Seeing... things.

He doesn't know whether he should be thankful that they were just about to end when he walked in, or even more disturbed that he had walked in when Puck and Peter were just about to... sow their seeds.

Suddenly this calamari looks even more unappetising to him.

He snatches a glance at the two boys. They're frowning at each other in what looks to be a staring contest, but he sees their pupils dart back to him, as if checking up on him. Despite their easy appearance, Hank can sense their embarrassment and trepidation.

Oh he should not have looked at their faces, now all he can see is how they looked when—

Ew.

He goes back to jabbing at an olive with his knife.

A couple minutes contemplation later, he decides to do nothing with the info. What they do in Puck's bedroom behind closed doors is none of his concern and, honestly, he would not like to revisit those haunting memories again.

Even though his brain is now saturated with the sounds of 'Oh my God!'

"...Peter's ass feels really tight."

Wait what.

There's a psffsfsgg sound, as said boy with a tight ass spits a mouthful of soup out, and Daphne chokes on a prune.

Everyone stops talking.

A deep, heavy silence drops.

...

...

Someone drops a pin then, for some reason.

"Wot." Sabrina says.

"The hell are you doing, Puck?" Peter continues for her.

"I'm coming out of the closet, what's it look like I'm doing?"

"I thought we had agreed to wait a couple months before telling them!"

"Well, Grimm's dad had already seen us, so it was only a matter of time before everyone else found out."

Everyone's heads swivel towards Henry. His face is one of mortified shock and horror.

"Wot." Sabrina says.

"Well did you have to come out in that specific way?"

"How else would you have liked me to do it?"

"Any other way would have been preferable!"

"Would you like everyone to walk in just as we were about to cum instead?"

Peter sputters.

No, scratch that, everyone sputters.

Veronica dissolves into a paroxysm of coughing, as she chokes on the piece of squid which she had boldly attempted to keep chewing during this odd interchange, Daphne chokes on another prune, Sabrina just stares, and Jake finds himself rummaging through for his pockets looking for his shut-people-up dust (oh damn, did he leave it in the car?).

Lots of choking going around here.

Reminds Puck and Peter of other times when they were alone.

After the general ruckus subsides, Puck and Peter turn to the rest of the table, ready for any questions the Grimms might have had. Peter inches his hand towards Puck's, and they snag fingers.

The questions'll have to wait though, cause Basil chooses that very minute to stand up on his chair and proudly display the aeroplane he had made with the broccoli and baby carrots that Veronica had put on his plate. When there's no response, he looks confusedly around. He sees the Grimm family staring at him, with Puckered brows and deadPan faces, and Puck and some boy holding hands and Grimmacing.

"What's going on?" he asks.

No one trusts themselves to speak 'til after Basil is put to bed.

.l.

The rest of dinner is silent. The digestion of food and information continues.

.l.

"So... guy-on-guy action, huh?" Sabrina lounges in the doorway, as her best friend and his boyfriend washed dishes in the sink. After their little revelation earlier in the evening, Granny had ordered them to clear up and clean up the table, for disrupting what would have been a 'nice family meal' (she then slipped them a hundred bucks for their first 'public date', and kissed the two of them on the forehead).

Puck winces. Peter looks back, and mouths 'you're weird'.

"If you really want to put it like that," Puck says. "Normally I'm the one who makes the crude sex jokes."

"There was nothing crude about what I just said."

"Given that thirty minutes earlier I had described the feeling of thrusting into this sexy beast," he pecks his boyfriend on the cheek "your joke now has a pretty crude context."

Sabrina winces.

"Yeah. That's how I felt."

"So how's the family dealing with it?" Peter asks, breaking them up.

"Mmm, they're all pretty cool with it. Dad still refuses to comment on what he saw," the boys blush "but apart from that he doesn't really care much what you guys do."

"Isn't anyone surprised that we don't actually hate each other?"

"Pfttt are you kidding? Three people had running bets. Jake won thirty bucks from Mum cause he guessed that you guys would come out by describing your sex."

"What, really?"

"Kind of. He bet you would do it in the most inappropriate way possible."

"No, I mean was it that obvious?"

"Uh huh. Big-time. Basil would have noticed if he were old enough to understand this sort of thing." She mimed pushing against a wall. "The sexual tension was palpable. I was scared to go near you two cause I thought you guys might drag me into a threesome."

"Wot."

She cracks a grin. "I'm kidding. But yeah, it was really noticeable." She shoves her hands in her pockets, and looks down at the ground. For a few seconds, there is silence. But not the silence like the one before, which was thick with tension and almost solid in its oppressiveness. This is a soft, gentle silence, almost thoughtful, contemplative, as Sabrina works out what she's going to say next.

If this story were a good story, there would be lots of buildup leading up to what comes next.

Unfortunately for you, the writer cannot be bothered creating said buildup, so he's just going to say straight up 'prepare for a sudden departure from sexytime descriptions and more serious shit to come barreling it.'

Ok right back to the story.

"I'm proud of you, Puck," she says finally.

Puck turns to her and arches an eyebrow.

"I am. I know we don't talk about our feelings a lot, and I know you and I aren't any good with these kinds of conversations, but I am proud of you.

"Ever since we broke up, I've been worried about you. Cause I saw what you were like, when we were dating, and I was afraid that maybe you wouldn't be able to have stable relationships. Because you're too fickle, Puck. That's the thing, you move around too much. You're all energy, and action, and it's hard for people to stay with you if you keep racing ahead of them. I guess I'm a bit of a hypocrite for saying that, but trust me when I say that it's hard keeping relationships if you keep doing that.

"I'm going to tell you something which you might find weird but listen anyway."

She pauses again, marshalling her thoughts.

"About a year ago, I had a talk with Bradley. Well actually, he had a talk with me. He told me he didn't like me leaving so much. I used to go on a lot of business trips, and holidays, and I loved him, of course, but I loved spending time by myself as well, and I excluded him from a lot of things. He said he couldn't handle it anymore. That he tried his best, but in the end enough was enough, and I had to choose between him or myself.

"Needless to say, I chose him. I mean, I still went off sometimes, but I started involving him more in my life, and I realised that I didn't really know him that well before we had our talk. I dated him, but I was more attracted to the prospect of him, a normal life, than with actually who he was. And he knew that, or he realised it, and he decided that he was worth more than that, and that he didn't want to be treated like in that way.

"I've always thought that was incredibly brave of him. To have enough self-confidence to believe that he was worth more than this. To be strong enough to stand up to someone and admit 'no I'm not selfless, I'm not going to let you do what you want; this relationship's one-sided and I'm going to do something about it.' When push came to shove, he stood up for himself, and he defended himself. Things could have went really badly for him. I could have not chosen him, or gotten angry, or said something about him restricting me. But it was a fair point, and he acted fairly. He said if he didn't want me then that's fine, then he'll have to leave, because he can't be in a relationship like this. He was accepting but strong, and he made me realise that life's not just pursuing the next goal or the newest dream.

"You're a bit like that, Puck. You're like me, you're too much energy, too much movement. You can't stay still for longer than a short while at a time, and I was worried when we broke up that you wouldn't be able to find someone who could accept that, or at least make you realise that."

She smiles, and ducks her head.

"But you have, haven't you? Peter's no dream boy, he's just as immature and even more childish than you in some ways, but he's good for you. He's strong, in ways you're not, and you're strong, in ways he's not, and you two can help each other, I think. If you ever get out of hand, he'll push back. If you ever leave on a whim, he'll pull you back. And vice versa.

"I'm proud of you, Puck, for finding someone like him. I'm proud of you for going public with this, and for making a commitment to him. You two mean a lot to each other, and I'm happy for you."

She turns to Peter.

"Don't mess him up, yeah? I mean, he's already messed up, but don't mess him up even more. He's had a bit of a rough life, what with saving the world and all, and he needs a bit of support. Has he told you about how he felt when Oberon died? Yeah? Then you'll know what I'm talking about." Her eyes are bright.

She quirks a grin, but in this moment she is dead serious.

"That being said, don't forget to whack him on the head when he's being dumb. Which is practically everything he does, if I'm being honest here."

Ok, maybe she's not being that serious.

She turns and starts to walk out of the kitchen. "Yeah. I'm happy for you two. I'm going to leave you two alone now, so you can think about what I told you. And also because I get the impression that Peter's just waiting to jump you, Puck." And then she's gone.

Peter turns to Puck. He smiles, and leans in to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek. "I like that friend of yours, Puck." He dries his hands and wraps an arm around Puck's waist.

"She's a good person," the fairy says.

"For once, you admit it."

"First and only time."

Peter smiles. His fingers inch their way under Puck's shirt.

"Ooh," Puck says, "I'm game."

"You're always game."

"And you're not?"

"Hormonal teenage."

"Mmm." The fairy kisses Peter's neck. "Well then you're perfect for me, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't say perfect so much as 'similarly attracted'."

"You really want to jump me?"

"A little."

"What say we fly up to my room and leave the dishes for later?"

"Count me in."

"I'm actually the one going in."

"Your sex jokes really ruin the mood."

"Don't worry, the sex'll bring it back up again."

"Mmm."


This marks the third Puck-Peter story I've written.

Right, so. Kat:

Sorry sorry sorry this is so late I am so sorry. I don't even know how I managed to get Annie's in on time, I'm terrible with deadlines.

I've told you before that you were about 50% of the reason why I joined ff in the first place (the other 50% was because I couldn't stand the unresolved Puckabrina ending of the last book— yeah, I was a little fanboy back then— but that's beside the point), and the reason why you were 50% and not, like, 2% is because you were a huge inspiration to me.

Not so much your writing, although I was a big fan of your writing too. It was more your general attitude, you know? You had this common decency, this respect for other writers which I really admired. You're smart and insightful and leave flattering comments and that's something that really struck me.

Because part of the reason why I was so nervous about starting ff is cause of all the negative stigma surrounding it. You know what I'm talking about, all the 'ff is just amateur work' 'its all smut and badly written porn' 'none of its good and it's all rubbish'. Yeah, I was a pretty impressionable kid. I was really nervous about starting cause I was worried that that negative stigma would pass onto me.

And you were one of the reasons why I realised that ff's not all it seems to be, that there's depth in it, and real people who have real connections with their work.

I've always seen you as one of the heroes of this fandom. If not a hero, then a mother, at least. You're the person on this site whose judgement I value most, whose criticism I look the most forward to reading, and the one I most enjoy PMing with. You writing is brilliant, your comments are on-point, you're funny but witty and get excited about weird things like grammar.

You brought ff into my life, and I don't think you understand how grateful I am for that. I know I sound really emotional and kind of off-puttingly serious, but ff has become very important to me. It made me comfortable with writing, with expressing myself, it helped me develop my language and find my voice; joining this site has actually done so much for me and I want to say thank you for that.

Thank you for helping me write ff. Thank you for integrating me into SG society. Thank you for beta-ing me. Thank you for the hundreds of the threads and PMs.

Happy belated birthday, my friend. You're a superstar.