(Author's note: While I was writing this story, I happened to watch episode 2x19 Rumours a couple times, mining it for inspiration. Watching the scene where Rachel sings Go Your Own Way was so amusing from the point of view of this story, because Finn (on the drums) and Puck (on the electric guitar) are totally having eyesex with each other through the whole song. Seriously, watch it for yourself: www. youtube watch?v=ZGVbl12osyg
Thank you to Gleeful Canuck for inspiration for the Sam scene. I'm converting the Finchel shippers, one at a time. -amy)
It was kind of like torture and kind of like the best of his Nana's soaps, watching Quinn and Finn sing I Don't Want to Know. Finn and Quinn glared back and forth at one another, while Rachel rolled her eyes, Artie looked thoughtfully bitter and Santana and Brittany exchanged their own hurting glances - while Puck sat in the center of all of it, trying to suppress his own stupid-ass grin. Even Finn's outrage at Quinn's insistence he not sing anything with Rachel wasn't going to get him down today. He just watched Finn stomping around scowling and laughed to himself.
But it did start him thinking. He wasn't going to do anything as stupid as try to sing a song to Finn. Puck couldn't think of much that would freak Finn the hell out more than that. But... if there was going to be any kind of progress in this thing, he wanted more people on his side. It just made sense to start with people who were invested in breaking Finn and Quinn up.
"So I was wondering," he said, sliding into a chair beside Rachel and interrupting her constant monologue, "about what song you were going to sing for the Glee assignment."
She looked pleased, of course, because he'd asked her to talk about herself. "Why, Noah, were you considering singing one with me? Because after today's little display of histrionics, I doubt Finn would risk being my duet partner. Quinn's preferences usually take precedence over his."
He gave her a sly grin. "What if I told you Finn had a secret? That he might want to sing to somebody, but he wouldn't dare?"
Rachel's smile slipped. "Finn? He - there's someone else?"
"Oh, yeah," Puck nodded. "Big time. But, like I said, it's still a secret, until Finn's ready to tell. But... if you wanted, you could help him stick it to Quinn anyway."
"She's not in Glee, is she? Because I think I'd know, even if Finn didn't say anything." She leaned in conspiratorially. "I have a kind of sixth sense about things like this."
Puck struggled to contain his own laughter, but somehow he managed. "You'd never guess in a million years. But Finn would know who the song was for. One catch - you have to sing the guy's part. Go Your Own Way."
Rachel didn't seem fazed. "It's well within my range. So you're saying I'd actually be playing Finn's part, singing the song to Quinn?"
"Something like that." Puck had spent more time than he was willing to admit listening to the remaining album's tracks last night, considering what each might mean. And while Go Your Own Way was supposed to be a breakup song, there were a lot of other possible meanings. Hidden meanings. Puck didn't think this would end up being too subtle for Finn to catch - especially not if he could get him to agree to the next part. "So you'll do it?"
"Definitely," said Rachel, looking excited.
"Awesome. So if you're not supposed to sing a song with Finn, how about he just... plays the drum part, and does some background vocals? And I'd be on electric guitar, so Quinn could never say the two of you were trying to sneak a duet."
She was already nodding her head. "Honestly, Quinn has no right to say who Finn does or doesn't sing with. This is about what's best for Glee club."
That was all bullshit, every bit of it, but Puck didn't care. Finn was mired in dealing with the fallout from Quinn. While they went over the song after school in the choir room, Puck listened to Rachel ranting about it.
"He's not going to improve the situation by staying with her any longer," she said, fitting the microphone back into the stand with an exasperated shove. "He could just tell her he's done."
"Except he can't," said Puck. "He can't, because he's Finn Fucking Hudson, and he has to do the right thing, even when it's the hardest thing. In his mind, leaving her might be the right thing, but he has to do it his way."
The way she was looking at him... Puck wondered if he looked anything close to that, when he thought about Finn. He might have to stage some kind of self-intervention if he did.
"Yes," she said, close to tears. "You're right. He's always been my white knight. I mean, even if he's not mine anymore, I still love performing with him. Didn't he say he would meet us here soon?"
Finn walked in halfway through their next take, stopping in the door and listening to them sing with a wary expression. "The two of you are doing a duet?"
"No, Finn," said Rachel. She glanced at Puck. "Puck... told me about your secret."
Finn froze. His expression would have been comical if it had been anybody but Finn, anywhere but this situation. "You told her?"
Rachel held up both hands in patient denial. "He didn't give details. All he said was you had a secret someone you wanted to sing to, and that Quinn wasn't going to be happy about it. So... I'm singing by myself." She put both hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. "But I could use a drummer."
Finn stared at the drum set. Then he looked at Puck. "Yeah, okay," he said quietly, "I'll sing with you."
Loving you isn't the right thing to do
How can I ever change things that I feel
If I could maybe I'd give you my world
How can I when you won't take it from me
You can go your own way
Go your own way
You can call it another lonely day
You can go your own way
The hardest part wasn't figuring out what harmonies Fleetwood Mac used, or keeping up with Rachel's dramatic performance, or even playing the electric guitar solo, which totally wasn't Puck's thing. It was making it through the song while keeping his eyes off Finn. It was a lot harder than it had been when Finn was strumming an A chord and an E chord on the guitar. Now, Finn was in his element. He was doing something he was really good at, which by the way was really fucking sexy, and even though the words were coming out of Rachel's mouth, it was damn clear who was singing to whom.
Tell me why everything turned around
Packing up, shacking up is all you wanna do
If I could, baby, I'd give you my world
Open up, everything's waiting for you
You can go your own way
Go your own way
You can call it another lonely day
You can go your own way
When they were done, Finn was breathless and staring fixedly at the rim of his snare, and Puck decided it would be better if he refrained from setting down his guitar until Rachel was gone. Luckily, she seemed oblivious to all of it, beaming at Finn and talking a mile a minute about the details. Puck couldn't give a shit about the details; he just wanted Rachel to go home now so he could say the things to Finn that were waiting on his tongue.
Rachel paused in her enthusiastic monologue to touch Finn's hand. "Quinn's not going to be happy with you. Or me, but I can take it."
He set his drumsticks down and cracked his knuckles. "Yeah, I think... she's going to have to decide. If she can't handle it, I don't think this is going to work out."
She smiled sadly. "I think that might be for the best, don't you?"
"Maybe for me. Not so good for Glee, though."
Puck could see the guilt covering Finn, hunching him over. He sighed in irritation. "You don't always have to think about everybody else, you know."
"Yeah, well, if you'll remember last year at Regionals, I was pretty selfish then, and look how that turned out." Finn met Puck's eyes now. He could see the apology there, and Finn's resignation, along with an undercurrent of energy that was making it hard for Puck to sit still. He forced his gaze back to the empty mid-distance between them and waited some more, but eventually it became clear that Rachel wasn't going anywhere.
"Finn, you're forgetting who won Regionals for us." She gave his arm a little shake, smiling encouragement. "You're the one who makes things happen. Thinking about yourself is good for the group, because when you're the lead male vocalist, you're..." She trailed off.
"More important than anyone else?" said Puck.
"Well. To a degree, yes. Finn's our star." Her arm tightened possessively on his arm. "You can't deny he's important."
"Sure." Puck grinned at Finn, watching his face turn red. "I think I have some kind of an idea just how important he is." He headed for the door, slinging his backpack on one shoulder and carrying his Gibson's case in the other.
"Puck?" Finn sounded more than a little anxious.
He didn't turn around. "Gotta head home. Call me later, after you take care of your business. We'll sing tomorrow."
It was better to put a little space between himself and Finn. The longer they spent together, the more likely it was he was going to do something really obvious or something really desperate, or both. And Finn was still, technically, in cheating range. However long he took to talk to Quinn, Puck was better off waiting somewhere else.
But Puck didn't hear from Finn at all that evening, not until well past an ordinary school night bedtime. Puck was still awake, but when he saw the call come in, he considered letting it go to voice mail, he was so irritated. Finally, he sighed and punched Answer.
"Dude," he snapped. "Way to blow the anticipation. What's going on? I thought for sure I'd hear from you after school. And if you decided to forget about it, just... lie to me or something, I don't know."
"No. Not forgetting about it." Finn sounded just as exasperated as he did. "Quinn and I have been arguing since seven-thirty. She insists she's not cheating on me with Sam, but she won't give me any details about what she has been doing. And I've thrown several not-so-hypothetical situations out there, just to be sure."
He leaned back slowly on his pillow. "How... not so hypothetical are we talking, here?
Finn gave a short laugh. "Like, what if you were talking about sex with some guy and he got turned on, would that be cheating?"
Puck waited several beats before adding, "And it wouldn't be, would it?"
"Depends."
"Depends on what?"
"On whether the people talking about sex wanted to have sex together or not. If not, it's not cheating; if they did, it is." He sighed. "So we're still arguing; I told her I was getting some ice water. I'd better go."
"Yeah. Good luck."
Finn groaned softly. "You keep saying that. You really think there's anything lucky about this whole damned situation?"
"Yeah, I'd say so," said Puck. "I'd say you're one fucking conversation away from getting really fucking lucky."
He thought Finn might have decided not to answer that, which, really, he wouldn't blame him. But then he heard him take a long, slow breath. Yeah, he thought. Right there with you, man.
"Okay, that was... inspirational. You really expect me to go back in that room like this?"
"I can guarantee it's not going to get any easier if we stay on the phone, dude. Just... I'm going to bed. Don't forget your drumsticks tomorrow."
He couldn't even add a joke about the drumsticks. Puck tossed the phone onto his desk, running his hands over his face with a groan. Then he quickly shed his clothes onto the floor, giving up on the idea of waiting for better inspiration than that. He didn't bother with the boxers; he just locked his door and grabbed the hand lotion, slicking both hands up. Finn was fucking missing out. Or missing out fucking, or whatever.
It occurred to Puck about halfway through - after he'd already worked one finger way too deep inside himself to pretend he was thinking about anything other than the obvious - that he might be making some pretty big assumptions about what Finn was willing to do with him. Or even interested in doing. As far as he knew, he hadn't even gotten to third base with Quinn. Aside from that one time with Santana, Puck was pretty sure Finn didn't have much experience at all.
That could have been an intimidating thought, but Puck was used to being the kinky one with experience. The fact that it was the first time he'd ever wanted to do anything with a guy was kind of beside the point. What he wasn't used to was doing anything with anybody who didn't really love what he was doing to them.
Which meant one thing: Finn's going to have to be the one calling the shots. I'm not going to pressure him into doing anything. And... fuck.
It wasn't entirely unsatisfactory, making himself come while imagining Finn fucking him from behind, but it wasn't anything close to the same as doing it with Finn listening. It was that thought that finally nudged him over the edge, whining and thrusting against his own fingers. Finn. Finn doesn't have to be on the other side of a door to listen. He could do it sitting right there next to me. He could watch. He could hold my hand when I'm coming. Maybe he'd join in. The details didn't much matter to his brain, apparently, as long as Finn could be there to witness them.
The details did follow him into his dreams, however. He woke late for school, hard and wickedly frustrated, but he had to ignore it as best as he could or risk scoring another absence.
Puck's drive to school was more than a little reckless, but he managed to park his truck and made his way to class without incident. He saw Finn in the hall on the way to second period. He didn't stop him to talk; he barely made eye contact. Until Finn did something really obvious to change things, he was going to let him alone.
The obvious thing happened just after Spanish, on the way to Glee. Finn fell into step beside him, glancing up and down the hallway.
"We're going to do this," he said an undertone. Puck tried to ignore the strange leaping sensation in his chest.
"What, sing this song? Pretty sure Berry's counting on us, yeah."
Finn put out a hand to his chest, stopping his progress. There was that determined look again. "No, I mean... me and Quinn. I'm going to tell her, after school today. We're done." His mouth quirked. "For the good of the group."
"Dude." Puck made an effort to conceal his smile, but he was pretty sure he was doing a piss-poor job of it. Finn stared at the floor, blushing furiously.
"Well, I couldn't let Quinn hold the whole group hostage by telling me who I could or couldn't sing with. So... yeah. It's the best choice for them. Um, us. Us meaning - the group."
The smile was definitely winning. "Oh, Finn Hudson," he cooed in his best falsetto. "You're my white knight."
"Shut up," Finn muttered, giving him a little shove. His face was well on its way to crimson.
Rachel stood up in the middle of Glee and declared she was singing the Lindsay Buckingham song by "putting her own feminine spin on it." But Puck was pretty sure Quinn wasn't frowning at them like that because of anything Rachel was doing. No, Quinn was too savvy by half. He decided he would have to have his own conversation with her once he and Finn had worked things out on their own.
Even Sam's bombshell about his family losing their house and moving into the motel couldn't crush his mood after that song. He left the rest of Glee whispering and gossiping to one another and carried his guitar out to his truck, sending a text on the way.
I'll meet you at your house in fifteen, and if you're late, I'll eat all the pizza.
Finn didn't reply, which he figured was a good sign; maybe he and Quinn were already talking. On the way to Finn's house, Puck called Fat Jack's and ordered the pizza with half hamburger and extra cheese and half ham and pineapple - but when he got to the Hudson-Hummel residence, he discovered Mrs. Hudson-Hummel's station wagon in the driveway. Shit. So much for an empty house and no pressure. Not that Finn's mom wasn't awesome, but this was not the time for a conversation over cookies and milk.
On his way up the front walk, he considered what would happen if he took this opportunity to tell her what was actually going on. Well, Mrs. H, see, Finn's been doing this thing for me at school, just helping me out, you know, the kind of thing a best friend would do... and now I'm here to return the favor. Assuming he wants that.
"Hey, Noah," Mrs. Hudson-Hummel said when she answered the door, smiling. "You look cheerful today. Finn's not home yet, I'm afraid..."
"No, I know... he's meeting me here. He had to talk to Quinn for a minute." A very brief minute, he promised himself, not glancing at the clock over the table in the hallway. "Okay if I wait here for him?"
She held open the door, beckoning him inside. "Of course. There's homemade banana bread on the counter; can I cut you a slice?"
"I ordered pizza, actually." But he didn't say no as she led him into the kitchen, placing the bread on the cutting board and sawing off a moist, thick piece. He gave her an appreciative nod as she buttered it and placed it in his hand.
"So what are you and Finn up to today?"
He was saved from having to answer this awkward and potentially disasterous question by the sound of Kurt's Navigator pulling up in the driveway. Seconds later, he heard the front door open, and Finn appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, looking stricken.
"Hi, Mom," he said, glancing between the two of them. "Um -"
"Puck," Kurt cut in smoothly, setting his messenger bag down next to the counter. "I hope you and Carole weren't having an important conversation, or anything."
Puck looked hard at Kurt's face, then at Finn's agitated state. Holy shit, he told him. Finn told Kurt about this, just now, on the way home.
"Nothing that can't wait until later," he said.
Kurt gave him a tight nod, then laid a hand on Mrs. Hudson-Hummel's back. "Any chance I could steal you away for a little fashion convo? Blaine and I are at odds about what I should be wearing for prom this year." He shot Finn a meaningful look, steering Carole toward the front door, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen.
Puck stepped in close to him, his elbow brushing against Finn's. "You fucking told him?"
Finn nodded, closing his eyes. "He saw me freak out after I talked to Quinn. I couldn't - he could tell something was up, and - he's my brother, and -"
"Hey," said Puck, and Finn stopped talking. He swallowed, looking close to panic. Puck heard the front door slam. The house was quiet enough that he could hear his own thundering heartbeat. He reached up and rested one palm on Finn's chest, listening to his rapid breathing. "Dude. Relax. I'm not mad."
Finn's eyes hadn't reached Puck's yet; they seemed to be stuck on his chin, or maybe his mouth. "No?"
"No, it's cool. I mean, you can tell... whoever you want to tell." He raised his other hand to rest on Finn's hip. Finn's had come up at some point to encircle his waist. What, are you going to invite him to prom or something? the voice inside him taunted, but he was ignoring it. Right now, Finn had his complete attention. "This is your life, man. I'm not Quinn. You can do... what you want."
"Yeah?" said Finn softly. He was smiling a little, his arms tightening around him.
"Yeah." Puck was having a hard time keeping his focus, with that smile so close to his mouth. Letting him make the first move, he reminded himself.
Finn's fingers came up to brush the back of Puck's neck. Each touch of his skin was doing funny things to his breathing. "What if what I want is to... go take a shower?"
"Um." Puck laughed. "Hell of a first move, Hudson."
Finn's smile widened, his head tilting as he leaned in closer. Puck could feel the impact of every word he spoke against his mouth. "I've got a couple of plays in my pocket. Thought I'd try them out on you and see... how you respond."
This kiss was more calm than their first, but not one iota less intense. Puck followed Finn's lead, matching his pace and pressure, but after a few heartbeats of that, he couldn't resist cupping the back of Finn's head to deepen the kiss. When it broke, they were both gasping. Every point of contact along the front of Puck's body was lighting up, like that old Operation game he and Finn used to play after school on the Hudson's dining room table. Finn's got my spare ribs. I think he's got all my organs now. I'm being disemboweled by my best friend's tongue. It wasn't even disgusting, in his mind. Finn could do whatever the fuck he wanted to him with that tongue.
"Okay, yeah, that sounds good," he breathed. "I'll - yeah." He took a step back, putting a cushion of air between them, trying to clear his head. "God, Finn. You sure you know what you're doing here? 'Cause I'm not all that motivated to... put on the brakes, if you know what I mean."
Finn gnawed on his bottom lip, but he nodded slowly. "Yeah... I don't know if I'm ready for everything, but... I trust you. And I want this. I told Kurt, all this stuff that felt so weird with Santana and so intimidating with Quinn and Rachel... with you, it just feels good."
Puck felt his shoulders relax. He hadn't even known he was holding the tension until it was gone. He nodded back, smiling. "Yeah. I'm glad. That's how it should feel. And I don't want you to do anything that doesn't feel good like that, okay? Really. I'm not gonna push you, and -"
Finn closed the distance between them in one quick movement, kissing Puck again, transforming the rest of his sentence into meaningless, strangled moans. Whatever he'd been about to say, it totally didn't matter, not even a little bit. The kiss ended when Finn started laughing.
"Glad I can provide you with a little light humor," Puck said, but he had to grin back. "That's not the response I'm used to when I kiss a chick."
"Yeah, well, if you hadn't noticed, I'm not much of a chick." Finn shook his head. He brushed the fingers of one hand along Puck's scalp, making him shiver. "I'm just - this whole thing. It's kind of blowing my mind, you know? And I keep having this moment, over and over again, where I realize exactly what's going on, and - just, god, this is the hottest fucking thing I've ever done, and that's kind of amazing all by itself, but - then I realize it's you. And I just -" He laughed again, completely unselfconscious, his eyes shining. "I didn't even know I could feel like this."
"That sounds like a challenge." Puck took one more deep breath, letting his own giddy amazement, and Finn's certainty, fill his lungs. "You still up for that shower? Because I bet I can make you feel a hell of a lot of things, if you don't mind me joining you."
"Yeah," Finn agreed, "that sounds... perfect. Whenever you're ready to join me."
Finn's smile stayed in the room, like that Cheshire cat grin from Alice in Wonderland, even after he disappeared upstairs. The sensation of it was so palpable, Puck thought he might be able to reach up and touch it.
Perfect, he echoed. Whatever the hell was going on, he was pretty sure he'd never felt this perfect, at least not before coming, not at any time in his life. He was also pretty sure none of the words he would generally apply to this kind of experience were going to be adequate. He was resisting using any of them because he didn't want to cheapen it, or oversimplify it, or do anything other than live it.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear the water running in the hall bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and two clean towels were stacked on the sink. Puck watched the shower curtain rustle, heard the subtle noises of Finn moving under the spray. Soaping himself up. The image was so sharply erotic that Puck had to brace himself against the wall to keep from stumbling.
He put a hand out and touched the shower curtain. "Finn?"
"I'm here," Finn replied.
For a moment, it was like they were back in the men's room, with a wall of particle board separating them. And then Finn pulled the curtain aside, and they were face to face, inches away from one another. Finn looked as startled as Puck felt, to have the barrier between them cast aside so suddenly, the skin and water and breath and eyes, god, Finn's eyes on him. Puck felt like he was the one who was naked.
"You're - sure this is okay?" Finn asked.
Puck tore his shirt off his head, tossing it on the floor. "Completely. Fucking awesome, that's what it is."
Finn's smile made him smile, and then he snickered. By the time he'd removed all his clothes, they were both laughing, from nerves as much as anything, but Puck climbing into the shower to face Finn silenced them again. They stared at each other, shivering, though the spray was steaming and the environment comfortably humid. And even though he'd spent the last eight years being around Finn's body, and the last several weeks fantasizing about it, actually being this close to it, when Finn was turned on, and he was turned on... that was another matter entirely.
"I don't," said Finn desperately, looking anywhere but at Puck's erection, "I mean, I've never -"
"I know, man." Puck reached out and placed a hand on Finn's wet, soapy chest. "Your call. I thought I'd just, you know. Do my thing." He gripped his cock in one hand, watching Finn's eyes flicker down, back up again. Finn make a small noise. The noise nearly undid him, but he finished his sentence: "And you can just do whatever... you want."
Finn watched him with wide eyes. "You want me to listen? Like this? When I can... see?"
"Whatever you want," Puck repeated. He began to stroke himself, slowly and steadily, because this could easily be over in minutes if he wasn't methodical about it. "All this time, you've been doing this for me, because it's hot and I got off to it. Well, now it's your turn to figure out what gets you off. You like to watch? Be my guest."
It was a little more like please, god, yes, but Puck didn't want to scare him off. Finn already looked overwhelmed by Puck standing there jerking off in front of him. Puck closed his eyes, thinking maybe Finn would feel better able to relax if he didn't feel so on display. Unfortunately, that started his own fantasies playing, his personal peep show cinema, starring Finn Hudson, spreading him wide against the wall of that shower and making him take it. He groaned, adjusting his stance a little - and his eyes flew open as his stroking hand bumped against Finn's abdomen.
Finn was right there. He was - Puck swallowed - as close as he'd been downstairs, when Finn had been holding him, kissing him, but now he was naked and hard and kind of hovering over Puck's skin, waiting.
"I - want," Finn said, exhaling. "To kiss you. While you do that."
Puck nodded, just enough to convey his yes, do that right now, and Finn dove in, giving Puck all kinds of reasons to wish he'd been doing this for years with him. He kind of wanted to stop to get some soap for his hand, and he kind of never wanted to ever ever ever stop doing what he was doing. His compromise was to rub his cock up against Finn's soapy stomach, gathering the slippery suds. It was a belated worry that this might be unpleasant or too forward, but the noise Finn made when he did it was all the reassurance he needed.
"I think I can say this without needlessly inflating your ego," Puck said, his head wedged in tight against Finn's neck, "but you are the best fucking kisser."
Finn's grin was preferable to the near-freakout expression. "You get good at a thing when it's the only thing you're allowed to do, I guess."
"Well, those days are over." He angled his fist and the strokes so they hit Finn's pelvis squarely in the space between his leg and his thigh. He didn't even care what the motion implied about what he might want to do to Finn. He just wasn't going to bother worrying about how gay it all was anymore. That not-exactly-gay ship had sailed weeks ago, when he'd started fingering himself and picturing his best friend doing it.
Finn cocked his head, moving in a little closer. Was he spreading his legs? Puck whimpered. "I don't get it. What do you mean?"
"I mean, now, you're allowed to do anything," said Puck. "Everything you've been wanting to do, you get to do it." He backtracked, or attempted to: "Only if you want it. You don't get... to do anything you don't want to do." God, he was just making it worse. He gave up and tried kissing Finn again, because that at least he felt like was something he could be sure Finn really wanted.
And then Finn's hand wrapped around his, the hand that was stroking his own cock. Puck's hand went slack, making room for Finn's long, slender fingers to interlace with his. Finn made an amazed, gratified oh.
"I want to do this for you," Finn said, "while you - touch me."
Puck's hand immediately disengaged from Finn's and went for the soap, because while he could live without lube for himself, it seemed like bad form to try to get away without it with Finn. "Yeah, man, I'll jerk you off."
"Um." Finn's face was bright red, stopping his hand before it could grasp Finn's cock. "No, I mean... your fingers. Touch me. I - I'll show you where."
Puck's jaw hung slack while Finn, with great deliberation and intent, took his hand and guided it to the taut strip of skin between his balls and his ass. As he pressed Puck's fingers against the muscle, his eyes fluttered closed, and he nodded.
"Yeah," he said breathlessly, gripping himself. "Yeah... like that..."
"Oh fuck," Puck whispered, and he bucked twice into his fist before coming all over Finn's stomach.
Finn barely responded; he appeared to be lost in his own personal bliss. Puck did his very best, in his post-orgasmic bliss, to keep the pressure even and strong on Finn's perineum while Finn stroked himself to what sounded like a hell of a climax. He resisted the urge to let his finger slip and enter Finn as he came, because, as much as he wanted to blow Finn's mind, consent wasn't simply a good idea. And, what the hell, we might as well save a few new things to try next time, he thought in a daze, slumping against him.
And then they heard someone clear his throat.
They both froze. Puck's first thought was hey, it's Finn, but obviously that was impossible. He glanced up at Finn's wary expression, then moved under the spray to rinse off.
"Dude, you might as well say something," Puck said. "Whoever you are."
"Uh," said Sam. "Would you believe... pizza delivery?"
Sam was kind of maniacally apologetic, explaining a mile a minute about how Mrs. Hudson-Hummel had caught him in the driveway on her way out with Kurt, talking with him for long enough that he started to worry about the temperature of the pizza, and that she'd mentioned Finn was in the house with Puck and that he could just go right into the kitchen. And when he'd done that, and found the remains of their snack and Puck's guitar and Finn's backpack, he'd assumed he'd find them upstairs.
Finn, after the initial shock had worn off, was taking the whole thing very well. He shook his head, looking amused. "Yeah, you found us all right."
Puck wasn't sure how to ask How long did you listen before you said something? without being an ass about it, because Sam was clearly already desperately embarrassed. But it wasn't until Puck went to pay him for the pizza that he realized exactly what Sam was embarrassed about.
"You're making money for your family, delivering pizzas," said Puck, and Sam nodded, tucking the bills in his pocket.
"It's the only job I could find where I could work around my school hours and babysitting my brother and sister. I can't even play the guitar for tips anymore because I sold my guitar at the pawn shop downtown." He sighed, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Dudes. I'll keep your secret if you keep mine."
Puck moved closer to Finn, not touching him, but close enough to feel the heat of his skin. "Well... it's kind of a new thing. Like, really new. I don't know how much secret-keeping we're going to be doing." He glanced up at Finn's startled expression and shrugged. "And, really, Sam, you don't need to keep your own secret, either. Everybody in Glee knows, and if that's as far as you want it to go, I can make sure nobody blabs, but you shouldn't be embarrassed about the economy sucking."
"Mmm." Sam gave them a wry grin. "Any more than the two of you should be embarrassed about cheating on your girlfriends with each other?"
"I broke up with Quinn this afternoon," said Finn. Puck noticed he didn't say we didn't cheat, but Sam looked impressed anyway.
"Lauren dumped me when I told her I was - that there was somebody else," Puck told him. "And dude, I'm embarrassed about you walking in on us in the fucking shower."
Sam and Finn both laughed, but Sam looked relieved to take his generous tip and head back to work. Finn leaned heavily on the door, watching him drive off.
"Well, that was totally awkward." He shook his head. "Having to sell his guitar... that's rough. I wonder if we could buy it back?"
Puck grinned. "You really are the fucking white knight, aren't you?"
Finn's protest was muted by his startled pleasure at Puck moving in to press him up against the door, kissing him hard. Finn took Puck's head in his hands, holding their heads together.
"That, in the shower," whispered Finn, "that was - was that too weird?"
Puck had to laugh. "Not by a long shot, man. There are way too many things I want you to do to me that qualify as way weirder than that."
Finn let out a slow breath. "Okay. Because that was so good. And I think we should eat this pizza before I try to get you naked again, upstairs on my bed."
They demolished all but two slices, sitting close enough to touch but not really doing that, just letting occasional brushes of hands and thighs and lips against skin say what they weren't willing to speak aloud. But Puck could feel it, hovering in the air, more like a threat than a promise. He had no idea what Finn would think if he said it, and he wasn't about to find out. Whatever this was, or however long it was going to last, he wasn't going to ruin it with ridiculous declarations of... whatever.
Finn picked a piece of ham off Puck's last slice, glancing at him. "So, you, uh... you really want to tell people about this? About you and me?"
"Honestly? I don't know if I can keep it under wraps." He leaned against Finn, feeling his arm around him, his strong hand resting on his shoulder, and sighed. "It's more about the practical than it is about the proud. Not that I don't think you're totally awesome, because you are. I just don't think I'm a whole lot different than I was before I realized I want you to fuck me in the ass."
Finn dropped the ham, choking a little, but he was grinning. "Um... yeah. I was thinking along the same lines, kind of." His voice went a little hoarse and awed. "You really want me to do that to you?"
"Yes. Fuck yeah." Puck gripped Finn's wrist, holding it tight. "Like, a lot."
Finn stared into his hopeful face. "That's... a lot of trust you'd be putting in me."
Puck kept his expression completely serene. "Yeah, well, it's nothing compared to what you'd be putting in me."
Finn didn't stop laughing for almost a full minute, not even while he wrestled Puck to the floor and kissed him.