I wrote this on my phone it's a bit of a step down from my laptop but with exams I have no time to finish any other stories so I thought I might as well explore my imagination. Cheers
This one has some smut in it
When Sam first met Puck, it was at a house party. As cliche as it was, there was a magnetic force in the air that drew them together. They were two attractive boys, so they were pulling more eyes than each other's, but they managed to shake off everyone else and achieve a little tryst in Santana's bedroom.
At that moment, Sam was incredibly thankful for alcohol. He wasn't drunk - just enough to dull his senses and impair his judgement. Not only would he have been to scared to even make eye contact with his new friend sober, he sure as hell wouldn't have begun passionately making out on Santana's door.
"How did you know?" Sam asked as Puck pulled away for breath.
"Know what?" Puck replied, panting. Although he pulled his mouth away, he seems adamant to keep their lowers glued together.
"That I wanted... This," Sam huffed. Puck lifted his head from Sam's neck, where a hickey was beginning to form.
"I'm not sure." Puck seemed to lose him momentum in favour of the question. His head tilted. "It's not very difficult to spot if you know what to look for."
"And what exactly were you looking for?" Sam asked, as he was pushed into the bed. He sprawled out as he landed, legs a wide invitation which Puck drank with his eyes.
"Just a nice guy," Puck said. He fumbled with Sam's zip. "Good fashion sense." He slid down his jeans. Kicked off his shoes. Puck's voice turned to gravel in his throat as he palmed Sam through his boxers. "Nice cock." Puck nuzzled against the fabric, breathing in the scent. "You seem to tick all the boxes."
Sam moaned. He somehow managed to open his legs wider. Puck slid up them, dragging up Sam's shirt as he did so, sliding it over his head and tossing it on the floor.
Sam tried to control his breathing enough to speak. He could feel his cock pressing into Puck, and Puck's up his thigh. "I didn't know I had a type," he said, wrapping his legs around Puck's back. He squeezed, forcing them even closer, so Sam could feel Puck's nipples through his shirt and his heart beating against his rib cage. "Until I saw you."
Puck grinned, taking off his shirt and diving back down onto Sam, gyrating and kissing and moaning and flailing until Sam finally managed to break away and undo Puck's jeans. Puck's cock flicked out as soon as his jeans were halfway down his ass.
"Commando? Very efficient." Sam commented. He wasted no time, being very efficient himself in turning themselves over and wrapping his mouth around the hungry organ, sucking until his cheeks were hollow. Puck moaned an octave above his vocal range as he received Sam's special treatment.
Sam was not experienced in the area of sex, but luckily for him he seemed to have a mouth that was made for blowjobs. Not that he thought Puck would complain, as at that moment he was bucking with great intensity.
"Holy s-shit," Puck moaned, eyelids fluttering. Sam licked him from base to tip, eager fingers finding their way to Puck's ass to massage to his hole. Sam would have loved to keep going and let his own manhood free from his boxers, but a few seconds later Puck was dripping with sweat and his knees were buckling, his muscles bulging under his skin. His voice melted into a stream of moans and he came, pushing back into the bedspread, eyes closed and mouth grinning as Sam licked up the mess.
After that Sam gave Puck's dick a squeeze for good measure, making the languid boy jerk fervently, before sliding up to meet him face to face.
"Don't you want me to get you off?" Puck asked. He didn't seem to have the energy, but his fingers were already at the elastic of Sam's boxers.
"It's okay." Sam said, despite his raging erection. "If Santana catches us in here we're dead." He checked his phone for the time, ignoring the texts from his friends asking where he had gone. "Fuck."
"What?" Puck shuddered. He still hadn't recovered from his orgasm. He was just lying there, drawing curls in Sam's hair with his fingers.
"I have to go." He jumped out of Puck's embrace, pulling on his jeans, carefully adjusting his dick, which was now painfully demanding attention.
"It's not even 10:30?" Puck looked suspicious. "Wow. I didn't last long."
"I have to open the store at six tomorrow." Sam replied, toeing on his shoes. "Seven Eleven would fucking fall apart without me."
If he factored in travelling time, and that he needed at least 6 hours of sleep so as to not murder any customers, he was well behind schedule.
"Thanks for this. I had fun." He put on his shirt as he walked out the door, leaving a naked and satisfied Puck who watched the door with a pout long after Sam was gone.
The next day Sam couldn't help but think over his actions. In the heat of the moment, or the space after it, he realized how stupid he was. He didn't even ask for a number. Or a name, even. Sam blinked. It didn't take much to get him into bed.
That was one bad thing about working in retail. The countless hours of repetitive actions meant he could overthink every small detail he could remember.
Right now, as he cleaned the registers before opening, He was thinking of how he could come into contact with that boy again, without looking too suspicious. It's not like Santana really kept tabs on the guest list - he wasn't even sure if he was invited that night.
Six o'clock hit and Sam walked to the front of the store, unlocking it with the key. It slid open, and Sam stood blankly at the figure outside the door. Usually during the week there were old men or truck drivers who would buy a newspaper and cigarettes the second he opened the door, but today there was just one tired looking teenager. Puck.
Sam still didn't know his name, but Puck eyed the name tag on his chest before holding out his hand. "Sam," he said with a sleepy smile. He pulled a piece of paper out of pocket and placed it in Sam's hand, closing Sam's fingers around it and not letting go. They stared at each other. Puck's eyes were sunken into his skull, and Sam was touched he actually took the time to find out where he worked, and show up so early.
If he was his mother, he would have yelled stranger danger (if he was his mother he wouldn't have given the guy oral in the first place), but right now it was endearing.
Puck smiled with his eyes - his mouth didn't move much, but the corners of his eyes crinkled and he looked warmer for it. He let go, pushing Sam's arm back to its owners chest.
"Keep in touch, Sam." He took one step backwards, then another, before breaking eye contact and swiveling around to walk out the door.
Once Puck was gone Sam unravelled the paper in his hands. There was a mobile number on it, as well as a name.
"Puck," he read. It was the first time he had spoke the name, but it felt familiar and warm on his tongue like he had said it a thousand times before.