Disclaimer-I do not own Glee
Blood Stained Kisses
Summary: 2 young friends declared themselves blood brothers, now teenagers and no longer friends, one of them continues to bleed in silence, suffering all alone, too proud to seek help. Puck/Finn SLASH
I know this isn't the most popular pairing, but I really like them and wanted to have an attempt at it
Chapter 1
Hiding away in his bedroom, he tried in vain to block out the yells from downstairs and the sobs that sounded from the bedroom down the hall. Collapsing onto his bed, he massaged his aching ribs. He let out a sharp wince from the pain and bit down on his lip.
Carefully pulling his shirt up, he inspected the damage and found a series of fresh bruising forming along with the older discolouration that had yet to fade. That was the price he had to pay for daring to interfere when his mum and her boyfriend had their private 'talks'.
The man, Simon, was bigger, broader and stronger than him. He was a fighter at heart and he always landed a few kicks and punches of his own, but Simon always bested him. Then his mum would beg him to leave them to it and go upstairs.
He always wanted to protest, sometimes he did, but it was always useless. After a few more hits from Simon and more pleading from his mother, he would do as he was told and head upstairs feeling disgusted with himself every single time he walked away leaving his mother with that monster.
He would pause outside his sister's door and hear the sound of her crying. It pained him immensely but he could never bring himself to enter her room and try and comfort her. Instead, he would carry on to his own room and try to pretend that he was elsewhere.
Everything was just so messed up and he didn't know what to do about it. During the rare times when Simon was not around, Puck would urge his mum to break up with him and put an end to their torment. It never worked. She always insisted that she loved him and that he loved her too and things would be better this time. They never were.
The worst part was that Puck felt as though he had brought this nightmare onto his family. Ever since his deadbeat father left, Puck and his sister had both yearned for a father figure and his mother had been so lonely. She tried to conceal it with gentle eyes, soft smiles and reassuring hugs but Puck saw through it.
So when he was fourteen he had decided to do something about it. He was going to find his mum the perfect man. After a great deal of consideration, he had finally found the perfect candidate, Simon Roberts.
The man was smart, wealthy and owned a nice car. He seemed great and when Puck had first introduced him to his mother the two seemed to connect right away. He was good to her when they first started dating. He would bring his mum flowers for no reason at all. He seemed like a gentleman. He'd even stop by to help Puck with his homework.
Then when Simon moved in with them it all went so horribly wrong. It was like meeting a stranger. The man who yelled at him, his sister, at his mother, that wasn't the Simon they had known and loved. In his place was a hideous monster, one they could not run away from.
The guy seemed angry all the time even though there was no reason for him to be. He hated the man so Puck tried to avoid him as much as possible. Rather than return home after school, he'd head over to Finn's or some girl's house. Then when he was at school, he skipped every Math class and took a nap in the Nurses office instead, because Simon, or Mr. Roberts as he was known by at McKinley, was one of the schools Math teacher's.
His mum had been with Simon for two, almost three years now and the man didn't show any indication that he planned on leaving. Unfortunately, his mum didn't seem like she'd be ending the relationship anytime soon either.
He wanted to tell someone, he really did, but he never managed to get the words out. If Mr. Schue or Miss Pillsbury ever looked at him with concern and asked if everything was ok, he would shrug and say he was fine before cracking a joke. When his friends asked if something was going on, he lied and changed the subject or, if they were a girl, distracted them with his lips and his guns.
Of course, nowadays, Puck didn't really have friends. After stupidly sleeping with Quinn, his best friend's girl and getting her pregnant, his old friends wanted nothing more to do with him. He had hoped that Quinn would be someone he could lean on for support but she wanted nothing to do with him either. She blamed him for ruining her reputation, refused to allow him to have anything to do with the baby that she planned to have adopted, and made it clear to all that she despised him. She was living with Mercedes Jones and her family having been kicked out of her home by her father and Finn and his mum politely asking her to leave their home after learning the truth about Puck being the baby's father.
So Puck was on his own. Even Santana wouldn't speak to or sleep with him anymore now that she had gone all not-so-secret-lesbians with Brittany.
It seemed there was nowhere for him to go after school anymore, unless he wanted to trail the streets alone like some loser. So he always ended up returning to the hellhole that was a mockery of what ought to be a home.
Sitting alone in his room, he looked at his phone wanting more than anything for it to ring, to know that somebody cared. But the phone remained still and silent. He considered phoning or texting someone, but he doubted they'd even answer.
Hearing the sound of what he took to be a glass smashing, Puck closed his eyes and wished he could be somewhere, anywhere else.
His mind took him back to happier times, when he was still a boy, young, happy and carefree but still a badass. He remembered some fun times he and Finn had once shared and he smiled at the fond memories.
He missed his former best friend and yearned to rekindle their friendship more than anything but Finn wouldn't give him the time of day. The knowledge that the break down of their friendship was his fault tormented Puck daily. If he'd just thought with his head or his heart for once rather than his teenage hormonal dick then none of the baby-gate fiasco would have happened. He wouldn't have destroyed Quinn's reputation, his friends wouldn't hate him, and most importantly, Finn wouldn't hate him.
Perhaps he could be over at Finn's house at that moment, playing computer games and eating snacks.
The day his father left, Puck had been crushed, painfully so. It was Finn who helped him through that tough and confusing time. It had always been Finn. Any time, night or day, if Puck needed someone for whatever reason, then he would call Finn and the boy would always be there for him.
They were best friends, always had been, and Puck had always just assumed that they'd remain best friends until they were old and grey and no longer able to use their dicks.
But he'd ruined that by sleeping with Quinn. He wasn't even sure why he did it. Although Quinn was beautiful and popular, Puck had no genuine feelings for her. True, he didn't have actual feelings for most of the girls he took to bed, but this was his best friend's girl. He shouldn't have even thought about touching her regardless as to whether he had feelings for her or not. It was stupid, reckless and Puck regretted it every day.
He didn't care so much that Quinn and every other girl in school loathed his very being. It didn't bother him when teacher's or parent's shot him disapproving stares, knowing the trouble he had gotten Quinn in to. Quinn's refusal to allow him to be at the birth of their child certainly stung a little, but even that wasn't the worse part. The worst part was still that he had betrayed Finn, his brother, his boy.
Back when they were seven years old, the two of them had camped out in a tent in Finn's backyard. On that night, they had become 'blood brothers' and vowed to remain best friends forever, and always be there to look out for the other. They used a pocket knife they had found in Finn's basement amongst his deceased father's old things and both made a small incision on the palm of their hand. They had then pressed their cut hands together, allowing their blood to mingle as they made their oaths.
Looking down at his hand now, it was almost as if the blood was still there, taunting him with the vow he had broken and the friend he had lost.
Hearing more shouting from downstairs, he grabbed his pillow and held it over his face, hoping to block out the sound, maybe even suffocate himself. It didn't work of course; he could still hear his mum arguing with that pitiful excuse for a man. In his frustration, he threw his pillow at the bedroom door. The action didn't help at all, if anything he only felt worse.
Feeling his anger bubble up dangerously inside of him, Puck rolled off his bed and stomped down the stairs before throwing the front door open then slamming it shut behind him. He stormed off down the street, allowing his feet to direct him through the darkness.
Eventually, he came to a stop outside Finn's house, a home that held so many fond memories. Before everything Quinn-related, Puck had always felt welcome inside those walls, but not now. Even though he was only stood on the path outside, he felt like an intruder. He didn't belong there anymore, Finn didn't want him. But he didn't feel as if he belonged at his own home either. He didn't feel like he belonged anywhere.
Sighing, he crept up the pathway and stood on the doorstep. He lifted a hand and placed it upon the wood of the door, somehow finding a sense of comfort from the feel. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead on the door wanting nothing more than for Finn to pull it open and invite him inside with a goofy smile, just like old times.
Listening carefully, he could just make out the faint sounds of some television programme accompanied by Carole and Finn's laughter as they watched it together.
In the past, there had been plenty of times when Puck had sat alongside them thinking it was boring and lame. Yet he would give anything to sit with them now. Because Carole's choice in T.V shows may well be boring, but Finn's company was far from lame. Being friends with Finn was just about the only thing of worth Puck had ever had, and he'd destroyed it.
Hearing another burst of laughter from the mother and son carved a wound into Puck's heart. He turned away and hurried off into the night with only his shadow for company.
He came to a stop by the children's play park. The very one he and Finn had so often frequented in their younger years. Back in those days, Finn had been shorter than him and Puck used to push him on the swings. Their favourite spot however had always been underneath the large slide. It was a big tunnel for them to crawl around in. At least, it had been big then, but as Puck crawled into it now it seemed a great deal smaller.
Memories of happier times with Finn overpowered him before the harsh reality of today's truth burned into his brain. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a pocketknife, the very same one he and Finn had used when they declared themselves 'blood brothers'.
He flicked it open then lightly ran his finger across the blade, the silver cold to the touch. Biting his lip, he toyed with the idea of slicing the blade into his palm, just as he had done all those years ago with Finn.
Shaking his head, he snapped the pocketknife shut but did not put it away. He tried to think of other things, song lyrics, dance steps, Santana's boobs… anything to tempt his mind away from the alarming desire to make himself bleed, to feel the happiness he had felt when making that very first cut with Finn.
For several long and silent minutes, he battled against that unexplainable longing. But no knight can keep fighting forever. Swords, shields and armour inevitably become too heavy. Knowing the fight was lost, Puck accepted defeat and allowed his pocketknife to taste its victory.
Without letting so much as wince escape his lips, Puck looked down to inspect his palm and the thin crimson river he had created.
Not a word,
And not a tear,
Don't voice the pain,
Don't show the fear,
Take the blade,
Then slice the skin,
Free the blood,
That's trapped within,
Do not cry,
And don't you shout,
Bleed in silence,
Bleed it out.
So… shall I continue?
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IQR xxx
