Taking One for the Team (50 KW Prompt #20 - Standing in the Corner)
(Author's note: This is the sequel to Seeing Eye Puck. If you have not read that one, you might want to read it first. Multiple points of view, mostly Dean and Finn, so sorry if that's confusing. -amy and flinchflower)
"Ah... should'a known it was you two," said Dean, coming around the corner.
Finn and Puck froze in the moment of truth. Dean clearly knew exactly what had happened. They were caught, no two ways about it. Finn glanced at Puck, who'd had barely had time to button up his pants, and took a resigned breath.
"Dean - I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I take full responsibility for - invading your privacy."
Dean leaned up against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, the dark tan standing out starkly against the worn white tee he was wearing. He was barefoot, and as Finn eyed him up and down, he didn't think it detracted from the sheer dominance the older man was radiating.
"Full responsibility. That might come with a high price," came the reply, his eyebrow raised questioningly.
"Whatever you think is appropriate," Finn said through tight lips, as Puck stared at him, aghast.
"Dude," he said, close to panic. "It wasn't you. It was totally me. You didn't do - it wasn't your -"
"Look," Finn said, with one shake of his head. "You're mine. I'm in charge. Right?"
"Um," Puck said, glancing to Dean, and then let his chin drop to his chest. "Yessir."
Finn put a hand on his arm. "So this is my problem. I'll take care of whatever - needs to be done."
Dean's sharp gaze had shifted between Finn and Puck, waiting. "I like a man who can stand up and take responsibility." He believed the kid, and he wondered for a moment if this was how John had felt when he and Sam were teenagers, Dean attracting the blame for whatever stupid thing the two of them had done. He had some vivid memories of what those consequences had been like - hell, if he was honest? still like, because John Winchester, father, hunter, and United States Marine was definitely still the top dog in their household.
Finn returned Dean's gaze with cool aplomb. "It's the right thing to do." He swallowed, painfully, and steeled himself for what was to come.
"Things like this get handled a couple ways in the Winchester house," Dean said, standing up straight, and thinking about his father. "The usual option is pretty out of the question, in my opinion."
Puck spoke up, with more curiosity than fear. "What's... the usual option?"
"Well, our family stays a lot with either of our uncles, as much as we're on the road. We get caught breaking rules, Dad leaves it up to the head of the household, usually, to decide the consequences. I'm thinking this isn't something that I'm too keen on going to Burt with... how about you?"
"Shit," Puck breathed. "No, that would be bad in so many ways."
Finn looked like he'd swallowed a ball of hair. "My mom wouldn't care much for it, either."
Dean looked the two boys up and down. You could have heard a pin drop, and both the boys were looking straight at him. "Times where our Dad doesn't need to know, I usually take care of things with Sammy," he said, piercing gaze trained on Finn.
Finn nodded, understanding. "He looks to you for guidance. It makes sense."
"Yes, I do," Sam said, looming up behind Dean. Puck flinched away from Sam's appearance in the doorway, the shame and embarrassment of what he'd done written clear on his face. Dean was the scary one, but Sam - there was a special quality about the younger man, they all knew it. Puck had crossed a line by spying on Sam.
Dean acknowledged his brother with a glance and a nod, raising his index finger, hidden by the fold of his arm from the boys, asking Sam to wait. "I handle things with Sam the same way our dad does. We don't do grounded, aren't too many privileges that can be taken away, we need to stay sharp so there isn't anything like being sent to bed without supper." He felt Sam's shoulder brush his gently as his brother mirrored Dean's pose. Good; Sam was going to stay cool. He glanced back at Sam, and got a fractional nod from the kid, clear agreement.
"I take it we had a little... audience?" Sam asked, and his face... changed... as Finn and Puck looked at him. His handsome features looked like they were carved out of granite.
"I'm sorry," Puck blurted, and Finn quelled him with a look. "But it was fucking hot," he added, in a whisper barely loud enough to be heard.
But Dean clearly did. He took a half step forward, then nodded decisively. "Sammy, you want to tell these kids what kind of consequences that fuckups like this get in our house?"
Sam smirked - there was really no other word for it. "Sure, Dean." He let his gaze drift to Puck, looking the kid up and down. "Disrespectful little boys -" he began.
"I'm not a fucking little boy," Puck shot back, and Finn's hand darted out, equally fast, with a quick retort against his backside. Puck swore, earning a second swat from Finn, but he calmed right down, moving into a position of submission without question or resistance. Finn's arms went around him, restraining him, and Puck dropped still further into quiet obedience. Finn watched Sam and Dean to see how they'd take the exchange.
The Winchester brothers looked at each other with deliberation, and slowly back at the boys, taking the measure of the teenagers standing before them.
"That's exactly what happens - only it's not on an ass protected by bluejeans, and it doesn't stop at a swat or two," Sam finished. He wasn't sure what Dean had in mind, but it was clear that his big brother preferred to handle the situation, especially given the emphatic nod that Dean had just given the kids.
"It's what I do, too," Finn replied. "When Puck or Kurt needs it." His eyes dropped momentarily to the floor. "I guess it's me who needs it now."
"Wait... what the fuck!" Puck looked up at Finn, startled out of his state of calm, then over to Dean. "You - you're not going to... not to Finn?"
Dean felt some pity for the kid, but shit. If Sam had pulled crap like that with Bobby and Ellen? Neither he nor his father would have hesitated, Sam would catch it from more than one of them - and Dean'd wind up on the receiving end of more than just a couple reminder swats from Dad.
"Sounds like Finn understands how it works," Dean said mildly, an eyebrow raised. "Finn?"
"No," Puck shouted, leaping to his feet, hands outstretched in front of Finn, like a soccer goalie blocking a scoring shot. "You - I'm not gonna let you take this for me, dude. I can take my own lumps. It's not - " The last few words came out in a clear whine. "It's not fair."
"Fair... I think you lost that option when you chose dishonesty," Sam suggested, glancing at Dean.
Dean raised an eyebrow. "You let me know how you want to handle your boy, there, Finn."
Finn was one step ahead of him. "Puck - either you stay out of this, or I'm going to have Sam take you out of the room. What's it going to be?"
Puck's agony was evident on his face, and he worried his lip with his teeth almost to bleeding. "You can't make me - I'm staying with you," he said stubbornly.
Sam stepped forward, and his big hand wrapped gently but firmly around Puck's bicep.
"Finn? It's your decision," he said quietly, and Dean nodded.
"I think he should see all the consequences to his actions," Finn said. "I'd rather he stay here, where he can watch."
Sam's grip tightened a little, and he drew Puck towards him, figuring he'd have to restrain the kid at some point.
"No!" Puck twisted away, lunging away from Sam, though he didn't get very far. Finn grabbed his wrists and delivered him, struggling and swearing, to Dean.
Dean stepped up next to Finn to murmur quietly in the boy's ear. "We've got cuffs in our gear," he said quietly, "if you'd rather."
Finn nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly, and Sam and Dean disappeared into the bathroom. Puck was continuing to struggle, and Finn renewed his grip, snugging his arms closer against his body. He could feel Puck's heartbeat racing in his neck, his breath coming too fast. "It's okay," he soothed. "I'm going to be fine. This is what needs to happen."
"No," Puck whimpered. "It's my fault. I should take it. Not... you!" His voice was anguished, and Finn steeled his heart against it.
"I'm a big boy, too," Finn said, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Don't worry. I'm going to take care of it. But you need to see there are consequences to your actions."
"I knew there would be," Puck said, hanging his head. "I just - I didn't think anyone else but me would have to answer for them."
"You're not the only person affected here," Finn pointed out, holding him close. Puck had stopped struggling now, and it was more like an embrace than a restraint. "I love you. Don't forget it. I'm doing this because I'm here to take care of you."
"Fuck, man," Puck said, his voice broken. "You don't deserve this."
"It's what I signed on for." He planted a quick kiss on Puck's cheek. "Come on. Let's get this over with."
Dean crouched in front of the leather bag, fishing for a little-used set of leather cuffs, a set that was too small to be comfortable for Sam, and too big to work well with Dean's Houdini-like skills. Neither of them liked the fact that they were linked together, and required a key to lock and unlock. The stiff leather came to his hands after a moment and he stood. Sam was just within sight, and he cleared his throat slightly, holding up the cuffs. Sam's glance met his, touched on the cuffs, and came back to Dean's gaze. His boy nodded definitely. They could do without that set, free up some room in the damn bag for something better. The kids might be able to use them - Sam's conversations with Kurt, and Dean's observations suggested that Finn was a practical, responsible kind of guy.
He stood up, watching Sam. His partner was observing the boys, having stepped back to the doorway, allowing Finn to cope with the more volatile Puck, and he'd wait for Sam's indication to move in with the cuffs. He felt old, about to spank a teenager, for the first time in years. He'd thought when Sam made it into adulthood, at 21, that he wouldn't have to suffer any more teenage angst over his knee, but apparently he was wrong. He half grimaced to himself. Tess is gonna fuckin' love this, he thought, and that changed his demeanor slightly. She'd expect him to care for Finn the way he would for Sam, and he steeled himself.
Sam met his eyes, and something in his gaze let Dean relax. There was business to be taken care of, and it was gonna get accomplished. Sam gave a nod, listening to the conversation between the two boys, and Dean stepped out, cuffs and keys in hand. He quietly offered the set to Finn.
Finn took the keys in one hand and the cuffs in the other, handling them with perplexed, careful movements, as though he wasn't quite sure how they fit together. He swallowed, then unlocked them and slipped one cuff around Puck's wrist, buckling it shut. He slipped the key into his jeans pocket. "Put your arm up here," he said, tugging Puck's unwilling limb around the wrought-iron frame of Kurt's four-poster. "This'll be just the right height. You can be right here, and see the whole thing."
Puck was barely responding at this point, the cuffs and the whole scenario sending him deeper into subspace, but he climbed onto the foot of the bed and waited patiently while Finn connected his wrists together in the other loop of the cuffs. When he was done, Puck was crouched in a kneeling position, his back bent, head curled into himself. He wouldn't look at Finn, but Finn knew he could, and that was enough.
He leaned in to speak directly in Puck's ear, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. "I'll be right here, but I won't be able to do anything to help you, okay? You'll need to ask - Sam?" He looked to the taller man for confirmation. "Ask Sam if you need anything. Nod if you understand."
Puck's head moved once, up and down, and was still.
Sam had tried not to wince through the whole proceeding, watching the painful scene unfold before him. He was ready for Finn to ask for help, aware that the younger boy would probably look to him first. The boy was a natural, and suddenly he was repressing a smile. Tess would love these kids. He'd wait to see if the cocky young sub did ask, and Sam's attention would damn well be on young Puck, and not the spanking that Finn was about to receive.
The Winchesters watched the scene dispassionately. Finn was caring for the young sub appropriately, and Dean bided his time, watching Finn run a loving, regretful hand along Puck's scalp, and then turn to face Dean, resolute and solemn.
Dean snapped his fingers. "Finn. Here," he said, twisting the desk chair out to face the room, and seating himself. He didn't intend to use anything other than his hand, knowing it would intimidate Puck, and also that Finn wouldn't pay an overly high price for his responsibility.
"Drop 'em, kid," Dean's gruff voice said.
Finn gulped and started to undo the zipper of his jeans, but it stuck a little and he wrestled with it for too many seconds. "Sorry - just a sec..."
Dean shook his head, and tucked his fingers into the waistband of Finn's jeans, pulling him closer, and reaching for the zip himself. He lowered it without issue, the gulp that Finn made letting him know that the damn thing really had been stuck. "Takes the button, too, kid," he suggested, waiting patiently.
Finn took several deep breaths, trying to remember what it felt to be on the giving end of this whole scenario, and realized he'd completely skipped undoing the button on his Levis. He colored, and this time was able to get the fly down. He didn't want to think too hard about how it had felt to have Dean's big hands on his zipper. He inched the jeans down around his hips, then lower. "The... rest, too?" he asked, agonized.
"I'll take care of that in a minute," Dean said gruffly, remembering clearly that Dad had never stripped their shorts off until they were over his knee, preserving their modesty. "Here," he said, lightly gripping Finn's muscled bicep, and guiding the kid down over his lap. Dean remembered something that Bobby often said, and thought maybe Finn would do better with a task at hand.
"Hands on the floor, and on your toes, kid," came the quiet order. He waited while Finn complied, then hooked his thumbs into the kid's shorts, and stripped them downward.
Finn heard Puck make a low noise that might have been a moan in a different circumstance, but as it was, it just sounded scared. It gave Finn courage, to know he was there for a reason, that this wasn't something he... wanted. No. Not at all. He gritted his teeth. "Okay," he said softly, and he was pleased to note his voice did not crack.
Sam tentatively approached the young man in cuffs, and rested a calming hand on Puck's shoulder. Puck flinched away at first, but as Sam's hands became familiar, he leaned into them, taking comfort where it could be found. Sam eased down on the bed behind the kid, careful to keep only his hand in contact, until Puck indicated that he needed more than just that tentative comfort.
"Good," Dean said. "Remind me, Finn, how old are you?"
"I'm eighteen, as of last month," he replied.
"Sounds about right," Dean said cryptically, and then Finn felt the first crack of the hardened palm on his bare ass.
Finn held onto the idea I will not cry for about five seconds, after which he felt the blazing begin, and the idea was obliterated in the shock of a whole new idea: Holy hell, that was his HAND?
Dean had steeled himself. Eighteen wouldn't be difficult at all to deal out, that was a standard, realized punishment, and he'd dole them out slowly. He wasn't pleased to be handing it out to the young Top, but he was well aware that his strength was more measured, calculating, this way. Each time his callused hand fell, it was angled to produce the maximum burn on young Finn's backside, and given the way that the kid was flinching, it was to excellent effect.
Finn realized there were sounds coming out of his mouth, sounds he didn't realize he was capable of making, high-pitched and gasping, and as the blows continued for longer than he thought possible, he struggled to rein them in. But pretty soon it became evident that Dean wasn't going to let up until he cracked, and that somehow made it easier to let loose with a full-fledged holler. He heard Puck respond in sympathetic misery. He wished he could tell him somehow that it was okay, that he was all right - and actually, it was feeling better, he thought he could tolerate it now, as the endorphins kicked in. Oh, he thought with detached incredulity, through the haze of rushing blood in his head. That's - wow. Is that what he feels every time?
Sam moved in closer, an arm around the recalcitrant Puck, smiling sympathetically when the kid leaned into him. And then there was a noise from the doorway.
"Finn, what - oh. Oh … my god."
Finn's heart dropped as he realized what Kurt must be seeing - Sam, standing there beside Puck in restraints (and that, alone, would be enough to send Kurt in paroxysms of rage), and Dean, with his hand lighting up Finn's backside like a Christmas tree. Baby, he wanted to say, but all he could do was moan.
"Sam," Dean said quietly, and the younger Winchester moved to the doorway to gather Kurt into the fold of his big arm.
"Right here, Kurt. Puck needs you," Sam said softly. He looked up at Dean, hoping that he could communicate to his brother that Dean needed to pause here, to make sure they didn't create a crisis between the young lovers.
"What the hell is going on here?" Kurt said, and Finn thought Kurt might have actually stamped his foot, but he couldn't be sure, since he was currently swimming in a pool of pain and embarrassment and... other things he wasn't going to name.
Sam swung Kurt onto the bed to prevent any further outbursts, knowing perfectly well what would irritate the fuck out of Dean. Who hadn't been holding back on the spanking he'd been giving Finn, and didn't need a reason to intensify it, in Sam's opinion.
"Finn," Dean's deep voice suggested. "Maybe you want to tell Kurt why you're being spanked?" He rested his hot hand on the small of Finn's back, knowing from experience that the pressure would be reassuring.
Finn cleared his throat enough to make a noise that approximated speech, suddenly very aware of Dean's hand, and trying not to make any kind of motion with his hips. For one thing, he didn't need any additional friction, and for another, he really wasn't sure how Dean would take it. "I'm - taking responsibility for Puck's actions. I think you know what happened."
"Sweetheart," Kurt said, his attention torn between the kneeling figure on the bed and the other, lying prone upon Dean's lap.
Dean knew exactly what was going on in Finn's head, and simply increased the pressure on the boy's back. At Finn's age, the kid would be hair triggered, and he knew damn fucking well how that felt. He steeled himself to hide the evidence if the worst happened.
"Sit down, Kurt," Sam said softly. "Puck needs you," he suggested.
This gave Kurt impetus to move, and he finally curled himself around Puck's shaking form.
Sam rested his bulk softly on the bed, a hand on each of the distressed young boys. He hushed them quietly, and when a moment went by without any objection from the two teens, he nodded at his big brother.
"That was thirteen, Finn. I want you counting for the rest. Agreed?" His language was direct, asking for acquiescence rather than obedience, putting the two of them on more even ground than he'd have given Sammy.
Finn sniffled, not sure if he should bring a hand up to wipe his own snotty nose. "I got it."
"Good man," Dean said, voice rich with his approval. He brought his hand down five times more, measured, giving Finn time for response.
"Fourteen... fifteen... s-sixteen," Finn counted, finding comfort in the rhythm of each swing and slap, and heard his own voice grow stronger, more calm and confident. He was sure the endorphins weren't hurting, either. "Seventeen."
Dean steeled himself, appreciating the teenager's calm, and brought the last smack down, an almighty criticism painted in scarlet on Finnegan's behind.
"Oh - " Finn faltered. God - no. Not the mailman. Please, god, don't let me -
Dean's hand pressed down hard on what must be burning flesh, though it wasn't a nineteenth swat.
"What was that, Finn?" His voice was hard.
Dean's hand felt like a brand on his behind. Finn could feel each finger, splayed out against the hot, abraded skin. He wasn't sure what Dean was asking for at first - he felt a sense of panic he'd never experienced before, but it was only momentary. He took a final, measured breath. "Eighteen."
"Right," Dean said, and hauled Finn upright, standing with the kid so that Finn's scarlet backside was to the two boys. "CORNER," he said, a fierceness entering into his tone, despite his worry that Sammy wouldn't get it, and give the game away. He strong-armed Finn into the corner, well aware of the burgeoning erection. It was a moment's work to park Finn's nose flat in the corner with an audible order to leave it there and not move, despite the fact that Finn was fidgeting in place. Dean didn't intend to object to the involuntary movements.
"Are you done with him now?" Kurt's wounded tone was clear, and he stroked Puck's back with practiced care as he glared across the room at Dean.
"Shhh," Sam soothed. "It's all over, Kurt. It's ok. Finn took the punishment, it's all over." His large hand rested warm on Puck's back, even as he gently stroked the young switch's neck and shoulders. Kurt resisted at first, but he was not immune to Sam's gentle kindness, and he knew exactly how it felt to be on the receiving end of such a spanking. It was not the worst thing in the world.
Puck was face down, sobbing on the bed, and Kurt realized it was what Puck needed, to feel alone, isolated, shocked enough to sob out his distress, and he let himself lean into Sam for a moment.
"You're okay," Sam's deep voice resonated, into not just Kurt, but Puck as well. "It's all right, it's over. You are forgiven," he said, and hoped that the word made sense to the two teenagers. From the shuddering breath that Kurt let out, he thought it had hit the mark.
Finn faced into the corner, face as raw and burning as his behind. He felt Dean lean against the wall to his left, and tried to turn his face away, though his sense of responsibility wouldn't quite let him do it. He didn't like that Dean could see him like - like this. To know he'd - liked it. What does that mean about me? he thought miserably. I'm supposed to be taking a punishment, not getting off on Dean's hands on me.
"It's perfectly natural," came Dean's voice, in a subtone that Finn recognized instinctively, a tone that wouldn't carry further than the two of them. "You're turned on, I get it. It's not wrong, Finn. It's fine. It doesn't mean you're attracted to me, not in the least. It's just the spanking, Finn. Puck and Kurt are both paying attention to Sam right now," he said, watching Finn's glance dart up, to ascertain Dean's position, which had the subordinate teens and Sam well within his view. Dean was parked casually on the wall, and there was no way that Puck or Finn would be able to tell-
"You're probably about to come," Dean said casually. "And I'm not fucking watching, because that's all your business. All I'm gonna do, Finn, is hand you a wad of kleenex, and in five minutes, I'm gonna order you to haul your pants up and cope with your boys. Then I'm gonna take Sam right the fuck out of the room. You need help, you come get us. Either of us," he added.
Finn blinked, taking in the meaning of Dean's words, and felt a rush of admiration and respect for the older man. "You mean that?" he blurted, though his tone was soft, wouldn't carry. "I'm really sorry about this."
"Nothing to be sorry about. You're a man, Finn. The equipment comes standard, works the same way." He passed over the wad of Kleenex. He always pocketed a handful, usually the tissue was used for mopping up Sam's tears, but this was an equally valid use for them, in his opinion.
Finn's hands closed over the ball of tissue, and he felt Dean's kind fingers squeeze his, just once, and then he turned his face away. The images in his mind were ones he would never share with anyone, but it only took a few seconds to go from aching hardness to shuddering release once he put his hands on himself. He was able to maintain a consistent level of breathy panting, equivalent to what he'd already been emitting, and he didn't think - he didn't think - any of the others could tell what had really happened. Jesus Christ, he thought, his head reeling, dizzy with the rush of the spanking and the sudden, gut-twisting orgasm. He shivered with an aftershock.
"Jeans up, Finn," Dean barked a few moments later, noting from his position that Sam and the two subs jumped at the noise. Finn's obedience to the order was immediate. Dean grasped Finn by the bicep.
"Anything like that happens again, and it ain't gonna be just your ass on the line," Dean said, the menace in his tone unmistakable.
"Understood," Finn said in a matching tone, fervent and clear, but in no way backing down from the challenge. "I'll be sure Puck understands, too."
Dean smirked. If that wasn't promise of a followup spanking or two, he didn't know what the hell it was. It suited him just fucking fine, and Sam was nodding at him as well. His baby brother had hearing that would rival a bat's, so they'd know if Finn provided followup. At the moment the two teenagers that Finn was claiming were sniffling too hard to be able to hear anything of the exchange between Finn and himself.
He was silent, listening to Sam reassure the two, emphasizing that either Kurt or Puck could come get him, and not answer to Dean in any way, unless it was a simple apology for the interruption.
Finn glanced at Dean, the worry for his boys filtering through his haze. He didn't like the color of Puck's skin, and Kurt was going to need to get pissy for a little while before he would be satisfied, he could tell. "Can I take care of them now?"
"Yes," Dean said simply. "Sam and I are gonna lay down next door," he said suggestively, though too quietly for the rest of the room. "Both of us are gonna be pretty tired, and I want to make sure Sam's resting, and calm," he said conversationally, Top to Top, despite the fact that he'd just smacked Finn's bottom to brilliance.
"Thanks," Finn replied, and he meant it. He wasn't sure if it was appropriate to offer to shake Dean's hand, considering the wad of Kleenex he currently concealed within his own, so he just nodded and gave him a little smile.
"Good man," Dean said, a hand on his shoulder just briefly. "SAM!"
Sam stood, despite himself, at the order. Kurt had a good hold on Puck, so he wasn't too worried, and Finn had the damn cuff key - the kids could work it out from here, and they'd be next door if there were any crises.
Finn's eyes went from friendly to stern as soon as he turned back to the boys on the bed, and regardless of how much his backside burned, he was not going to let them feel anything less than loved and forgiven. What he had done, it had to count for something, and he stood by that. "Kurt," he said, pulling the boy into his arms, and Kurt fell upon his chest, letting the angry, hot tears flow.
"You're okay?" Kurt said anxiously, his hand coming down to rest on Finn's jeans. Finn's arms tightened around Kurt, and he let Kurt hear the disapproval in his voice.
"You knew exactly what was going on, and you didn't do anything to stop it?"
"I - what could I do, Finn?" Kurt was taken aback. Puck raised red and streaming eyes to watch them, wiping his nose on his arm as best he could, and Kurt quickly took a tissue from the box by his bed and let Puck blow his nose. "There wasn't much I could do from where I was, was there?"
"You could have told me right away," Finn said, pulling the key from his pocket and unlocking the cuffs from Puck's wrists. They weren't bleeding, but Finn could see there were slight bruises starting where Puck had pulled at the restraints. He felt an unreasonable surge of anger at the cuffs for hurting his boy, and he tossed them to the floor before turning back to Kurt. "You didn't do anything of the sort. You went along with it."
Kurt's brow dipped obstinately, but one glance at Puck was enough to drive him to apology. "I'm - I'm sorry. It was... well. I could blame it on Rachel and Mr. Schue, but..."
"It was my fault," Puck said, quietly. It was the first sound he'd made other than sobs in the last half hour, and his voice was hoarse and stricken. "I'm not going to forget this."
Finn could see that Puck meant it, but he could also see in his face something he recognized, something he thought Puck might take very personally. He knelt down to put his face even with Puck's and made him look at him. "You - here, on the bed. The cuffs." He put a hand on Puck's cheek, and Puck tried to pull away, but could not. "You liked this. And it's okay. There's nothing wrong with you. It's just part of who you are. You know we love you for it."
"We do, sweetheart," Kurt said, his hands on Puck's shoulders, squeezing away the tension.
Puck's head came up a little higher, and he sat, rubbing his wrists absently. "I'm not sure what to do about it," he admitted. "It was - well. It freaked me out, but... you're right." He turned his head to the blue patterned duvet cover on Kurt's bed. "I did... fuck, Finn, I liked it."
Finn hauled his face around to look right at him, and then he kissed him thoroughly, feeling Puck settle under the pressure of his mouth. "You're a good boy," he said, and he felt Puck shudder under the impact his words made. "I know you are. You make bad decisions sometimes. But you know what you need to take care of yourself. That's my job." He cupped Puck's cheek and gazed into his hazel eyes. "You gave me that responsibility. I take it seriously. It's the most important job I'll ever have."
"God, Finn," Puck choked, turning red under his regard, but Finn wouldn't let him look away.
"I love you more than I care about a couple swats on my backside." He nodded at Puck's questioning look. "Yeah, it really hurt. And maybe now I understand what you guys go through all the time. Maybe I get it a little better now. That's good, too, right?"
"Right," Kurt said, looking at Finn with relief.
Finn's eyes landed on Kurt. "And that doesn't change the fact that you're due a spanking too."
Kurt's own gaze flickered away. "Yes... I know. I'm sorry."
"We'll do it the way we always handle it, baby," he said, his hand gentle on Kurt's, helping him take down his stylish skinny jeans. "Together."
In the next bedroom over, Dean pulled back the covers of the bed sternly, gesturing to Sam. His lover nodded quietly, jerking his head at the bathroom. Dean nodded, giving permission for the younger boy to relieve himself, the order to return without delay implicit in their longstanding relationship. Sam slid back into the bed scant moments later, and Dean's arms wrapped around Sam's shoulders.
"It's okay, Sammy," he said, voice hoarse and quiet with emotion. "No different than Tess did with us, in the beginning. You did good, baby," he said, nearly choking. He hadn't wanted to spank the Hudson kid, and his palm burned with guilt.
"I love you," Sam said, and didn't interfere with the strong arm that Dean had wrapped around him, just brought the opposite, heated palm to his lips, and kissed it gently. "Do you think Finn'll spank them?"
"Do you want him to?"
Sam hesitated. "Yes," he said simply.
