A/N: Woohoo update day! Okay, this one miiight be dancing into M territory. But I think it's still T. I'm not the best with ratings. There is a good deal of sexual stuff in this chapter (and language), which of course made it super fun to write. I hope it's as fun to read. Let me know if I need to up the rating. Enjoy!

Chapter 10

He kept an arm around a very tipsy Puck as they zigzagged their way down Franklin Avenue. The streets were dark, but Lima Heights was still noisy at this hour. The kids were now back indoors, but there was plenty of music and loud voices flitting into the street from late night Halloween parties. The boys walked side by side, Puck stumbling and laughing and chattering about how fun the party had been. His arm was still around Finn's waist for balance, and the sensation of Puck's fingers curling around his hip was sending jolts of pleasure directly to Finn's cock.

"Why you so squirmy, dude?" Puck asked, leaning heavily into Finn, causing the taller boy to stutter-step and barely keep them both upright. He dug his fingers in even more, grinning as if he knew exactly what kind havoc it was wreaking in Finn's pants.

"I'm not squirmy!" Finn protested. The strange sensations he'd been feeling all day were starting to come to a head and he was getting very edgy. He tightened his grip on Puck's arm, steadying him when he nearly tripped on the sidewalk in front of the laundromat on East Carlisle. "Guess what dude?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"What?"

"I got a date with Quinn Fabray."

"Really? No shit, that's awesome! When did that happen?" He made to give Finn a congratulatory slap on the chest but missed, hitting him in the stomach instead.

"I talked to her when you were uh—fucking Santana."

Puck grinned slyly, his head thumping into Finn's shoulder as they walked. "I didn't fuck her, actually."

"No?" Finn looked down at him, trying his best to school the blatant curiosity off his face.

"No, I just ate her pussy," he said, waving a hand casually in the air.

Finn swallowed thickly at that. "Oh really?"

In his mind's eye, he imagined Puck with his head buried between Santana's legs. She had her head thrown back and was moaning in ecstasy until suddenly, her beautiful Hispanic features began to morph. She was becoming bigger, taller, and her hair shortened until she was completely replaced by Finn himself. Now Puck had his cheeks hollowed around Finn's cock, looking up at him with those pretty hazel eyes as he sucked him for all he was worth. The mental image made Finn weak in the knees as his cock twitched achingly in his jeans.

Puck smiled. "Oh yeah, that's why she was in such a good mood today," he said proudly, keeping those damn fingers of his curled deliciously into Finn's hip. The sensation was almost making him delirious and he fidgeted under the electric feel of Puck's hand. Mercifully, his buddy failed to notice anything. "So when are you and Quinn going out?" he asked.

"Next Friday. I'm taking her to mini-golf and Breadstix."

"That's awesome, dude!"

A beat passed as Finn steered his tipsy friend onto Gilboa Avenue. Unable to contain his curiosity, the words tumbled out of his mouth. "What, ah—so what's that like anyways?"

Puck looked up at him incredulously, nearly losing his balance again. "What? Going on a date?"

"No, not going on a date. I mean…what's it like eating a girl out?"

"Oh!" said Puck, grinning. "That. It's awesome. 'Specially if you like your hair pulled because that's how you know you're doing a good job." He reached up and grabbed a fistful of Finn's hair, giving it a playful tug.

"Hey!" Finn shouted, swatting his hand away. But Puck's touch had already sent that pleasurable electric feeling shooting through his body again. He swallowed thickly before asking his next question. "What about…you know, blowjobs? What're those like?"

Puck looked up at him slyly. "Oh, well now those are the best!"

"Have you ever—?" Finn began before stopping himself. He'd been about to ask 'Have you ever given one?' but had lost his nerve. Even drunk, Puck would probably find a way to kill him for even thinking that.

"Have I ever what?" Puck asked innocently. He was staring at Finn hard, his lips slightly parted, and Finn had this odd feeling that even though Puck was hammered, he knew exactly what Finn had been about to ask.

"Never mind," said Finn, a bit too quickly.

"Tell me," urged Puck, still staring at him hard.

"I said forget it!" Finn snapped and Puck looked a little taken aback by his tone. "Look we're here," he said weakly.

He steered his drunk friend to the doorstep of number eighteen and helped him dig through his pockets in search of the house key. The moment they were back inside, Puck staggered into the living room and collapsed face down on the couch with his boots still on his feet.

"Bruh, I'm so drunk," Puck lamented, his voice muffled by the couch cushions.

"Oh no you don't," said Finn. He grabbed Puck by the upper arm and hauled him to his feet. He could not leave Puck passed out drunk on the sofa for his mom to find when she came home from work. She would flip out and probably kill them both if she ever found out Puck ignored curfew and drank half his body weight in booze.

"Aw, c'mon man, be cool, be cool," said Puck, staggering as Finn pulled him into the bathroom and shoved his toothbrush in his hands.

"Brush," said Finn, "Now." He was feeling strange. Edgy and restless and… horny? All these thoughts swam in his head—thoughts involving blowjobs and kissing and other boys, well, not so much other boys but just Puck, really—and they were making him so wound up.

Puck cocked an eyebrow at him "Yes sir," he said, giving him a sly smile.

When he was done with his teeth, Finn pulled the crown of thorns off his head and flung it into the living room and helped him yank the Jesus costume up over his head. With the robe discarded in a heap on the floor, the Jewish boy stood before him wearing nothing but his jeans, his boots and a knowing smirk.

"What now, boss?" he asked cheekily, standing proudly with his hands on his hips, and Finn couldn't stop his eyes raking over Puck's shirtless body.

This is stupid, he told himself, frustrated. How many times had he seen Puck shirtless in the locker room? A lot. And how many times had he given a shit before now? Zero.

Finn cleared his throat loudly. "Pajamas," he grit out. "Go upstairs and get your pajamas on." It took a great deal of effort to tear his eyes away from Puck's perfect chest and abs.

"But I don't want to go to bed yet. I'm not even tired!" He sounded so petulant that it would have been funny if Finn wasn't so high strung.

"I didn't say you have to go to sleep!" said Finn, rolling his eyes and grabbing his own toothbrush. "Just get changed. I dunno, fire up Portal or something. But don't beat too many levels without me!" he added hastily. "I'll be up soon."

"I'll bet you will be," Puck said with a smirk, his eyes flicking to Finn's crotch and back up, causing Finn to blush an unusual shade of scarlet. Puck made to leave, but hesitated a moment in the doorway.

"What?" said Finn, pausing with the toothbrush halfway to his mouth.

"There's uh—there's still no demons up there, right?" he asked in a casual yet strained voice, jerking his thumb towards his bedroom.

The comment was both so offhand and yet so sincere that Finn almost laughed. "No dude, it's fine. Go," he said through a mouthful of toothpaste.

Finn listened as Puck's staggering footsteps got further and further away before he splashed some cold water on his face. He glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, shaking his head hard, trying to clear it. This had gone on far enough, he told himself. He willed his brain to think about girls, any girl—Quinn, Santana, even that Rachel chick from English class who was kind of hot even though she was so annoying—or anyone who wasn't Puck, really. He pictured Santana's ass in that skimpy nurse's uniform, Brittany's legs in that slutty red devil dress, Quinn's tits in her sexy gypsy outfit…They were all so hot, so why did his mind keep looping around to Puck again? It wasn't right.

"Stop it, Finn," he whispered sternly to his reflection. He glanced around the bathroom. The memory of jerking off to thoughts of his best friend only hours ago flooded his mind. He shook his head in disgust. Somehow, his dick was now straining in his jeans as though he'd never even touched it. Though he tried desperately to think of girls, all he could picture was Puck on his knees with a cock in his mouth, or Puck laid out on his back writhing in pleasure, pleasure that Finn was somehow expertly giving him. It was sickening, and yet so awesome and hot at the same time.

"God damn it," he hissed angrily as he pictured Puck standing shirtless in front of him like he had been just moments ago. Before he could stop, he reached down and rubbed himself through his jeans. In his imagination, his mohawked friend was biting his lip, looking up at him flirtatiously.

'What now, boss?' this Fantasy-Puck asked again and again. And he stepped forward, pressing his lips to Finn's. Fireworks shot off in Finn's mind as he imagined Puck's tongue swirling with his, his fingers curling on his hips. Even in his imagination Puck's touch could sear his skin. Biting his lip, Finn gave himself another good rub through his jeans, his arousal getting close to that point of no return.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no—" he heard himself say. This chaotic feeling could only mean one thing. Finn bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, trying to stop the unplanned orgasm from ripping though his body. Coach Tanaka in a Speedo! Coach Sylvester giving you a lap dance! Lauren Zizes doing porn—! He used every ounce of willpower he had to tear his hand away from his junk.

He nearly collapsed, lightheaded, but somehow it worked. His whole body was on edge but at least he hadn't gone and made a fool of himself by creaming his pants in his best friend's bathroom. He'd simply have to kill himself if that ever happened…

He looked at his edgy and high-strung countenance in the mirror, holding up his fists and shadowboxing at his reflection. Stop it with this gay shit, dude, he told himself resolutely. Enough is enough. With a stern nod, he pulled on his PJs and gathered up the discarded costumes from the floor. All the while, his conscience was giving him a little pep talk. You're gonna go upstairs, and you're gonna go right to bed. Absolutely no funny business. None at all.

But another part of his conscience reminded him that Puck had spent a good part of the evening hanging off his arm and telling him loudly how much he loved him. If that was anything to go by, he thought as he crept upstairs a moment later, maybe there would be a little more funny business coming his way…