A/N: Oh boy, here I go writing my first real slash scene between these two! I'm so excited to share it with you guys. It was fun to write. This and the next chapter are super long but I couldn't break them up any other way. Rated T (borderline M) for obvious reasons. Please tell me what you think!

Chapter 11

Finn nearly took a header tripping over Puck, who was sprawled out haphazardly on the bedroom floor. It looked like he'd lost his balance trying to get to bed, and had given up with half his body on the little cot they'd left out for Finn the night before.

"Puck, whoa! Whatcha you doing down there?" Finn asked, just managing to side step in time before tripping over his friend.

"I've fallen and I can't get up!" Puck announced loudly, his whole body wracking with silent giggles. It was apparent that he was still quite drunk.

"I see that," said Finn, kneeling beside him on the cot. Puck was still in his jeans, one boot still resolutely on his foot while the other looked like he'd given up halfway through trying to take it off. He was still shirtless, his arms and torso covered in goosebumps from the room's cold draft. Puck was probably too drunk to care, but Finn found himself vaguely wondering how it would feel to run his fingers over all that sensitive skin…

Stop it, his told himself. He'd sworn downstairs that he'd cut it out with all the gay shit..

"I had a wardrobe malfunction," Puck explained, his cheeks pink-tinged from laughter. He shifted and put his booted feet in Finn's lap.

"Did you now?" Finn asked, glancing down at the boots. "And what do you want me to do about it?"

"Uh, help me out?" said Puck, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Finn rolled his eyes but helped him pull off his boots and socks anyway. "You wanna know what else?" Puck asked, wiggling his finger so Finn would lean in, as if he was about to divulge some huge mind-blowing secret.

"What else?" Finn asked, chuckling. He knew it was probably going to be something stupid, but he turned an ear conspiratorially nonetheless.

"I'm very drunk," Puck whispered, before rolling on his side and breaking down into another huge fit of laughter.

Finn snorted, shaking his head. "You're beyond drunk, buddy, you're wasted. And ridiculous."

Puck didn't deny that. Instead he fixed Finn with a hard look, suddenly serious and—was he being flirtatious? Finn mentally slapped himself. Of course he's isn't. Don't be stupid. Just forget it and go to bed like you said you would.

"So," Puck was saying coyly, "are you gonna help me with my jeans or what?"

"Or what!" said Finn, his eyes widening. He looked away in embarrassment. He could feel that tell-tale blush creeping up his neck. "Come on now, you're a big boy. I think you can manage your own pants."

"But it'd be so much more fun if you did it for me," Puck said, grinning provocatively.

No. Stop, warned his conscience.

Finn gulped, his eyes flicking from Puck's face down to his fly. It was obvious his friend knew damn well what he was doing, what with that knowing smirk plastered across his face. Finn felt his cock twitch traitorously and he prayed Puck wouldn't notice. He had absolutely no way of hiding anything in his stupidly thin pajama pants.

"C'mon, dude," Puck urged with a seductive edge to his voice. "You know you want to help me."

"And why would you think that?" Finn countered, gulping thickly and averting his eyes.

"'Cause I'm super cute," Puck said simply. Finn could feel those hazel eyes boring into him.

He took a deep, calming breath. Don't respond to that, willed his conscience. He's drunk and he doesn't know what he's saying. He'd be so embarrassed if he knew.

Puck put a hand on Finn's knee, making him look up into blazing eyes. "I am cute, right?" he asked again, blinking slowly. Damn, he was good.

Just tell him 'no.' Tell him, damn it!

"Yes," said Finn, which earned a bug smile from Puck.

Dumbass! screamed his conscience.

"Glad you agree!" said Puck cheerfully, splaying himself out. "So come over here and help me, then."

Don't do it. Don't do it, man. This is the shit you swore you weren't gonna do—A bolder side of Finn's conscience came in like a freight train and squashed that nagging voice. Before he lost his nerve, Finn reached out a trembling hand to undo Puck's belt and fly. As he put shaky fingers in his belt loops and tugged them down his hips, he froze. Puck looked like he was barely containing another fit of laughter. He was totally up to something…

"Dude? What the fuck?" he said suspiciously. "What are you up to?"

Puck burst out laughing, choking out a few words that sounded an awful lot like "Full commando!"

Finn jumped back, holding his hands up as though he were surrendering to an invisible cop. "Oh my god, dude, no!"

"What? Don't you want to see Puckzilla?" he asked, grabbing himself lewdly. Finn might have noticed the implication if he hadn't immediately covered his burning face with his hands.

"Dude! No thank you!" cried Finn, even though every neuron in his brain was screaming a firm and resounding Yes! Puck chuckled and went to peel off his jeans himself, and it took every ounce of willpower Finn had not to peek through his fingers and steal a look at whatever his buddy was packing. After a moment, he chanced opening one eyelid, only to come face to face with Puck, who'd mercifully pulled on his PJs and was up on his knees in front of him. "W-What're you doing?" Finn heard his own voice stammer.

Puck smiled, his eyes flashing with…desire, maybe? Lust? Finn wasn't quite sure. Puck placed his hands on Finn's trembling forearms. Goosebumps sprang up beneath his fingers even though his skin was burning hot. Puck's face was close, too close, his nose mere inches from Finn's. The proximity was overloading his senses. He was so close that Finn could practically smell him—it was a mixture alcohol and Irish Spring soap and something else that was making Finn's pulse quicken.

"Puck…" he said slowly, feeling his willpower unravelling.

"Just tell me to stop and I will," Puck whispered, his voice thick and heady as his breath ghosted across Finn's face. He waited patiently, tracing circles with his thumbs on Finn's forearms, watching while the cogs slowly turned in the taller boy's brain. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked gently.

Finn hesitated."…No," he grit out, talking over the feeble voice of his conscience that tried to tell him to say otherwise.

"That's what I thought." Puck smiled smugly, trailing his fingertips feather light down Finn's arms, letting them come to rest on his hips.

Finn held his breath. He was nervous, anticipating Puck's next move with a streak of excitement laced with fear. His heart thudded in his chest, and he trembling under the warmth of his friend's hands. Then Puck grinned wickedly, curling his fingers and pulling Finn against him. All the oxygen seemed to escape the room as their lips met in a soft, tentative, exploratory first kiss. At the same time, Finn's crotch pressed flush to Puck's thigh and that pleasurable friction made stars erupt behind his eyes. His lips parted in a gratified moan, and Puck took that opportunity to deepen their kiss.

Every nerve ending in his body was blazing. Puck's hand found its way to the back of Finn's neck, pulling him closer. The feel of his tongue and soft lips made Finn almost delirious. He pressed himself harder into Puck, embarrassed but unable to stop himself. There was no way Puck could mistake the bulge in Finn's pajama pants now. His arousal was undeniable. There was no annoying voice in his conscience now. Every cell was focused on the present; Puck's lips against his and his skin under his hands. Nothing had ever felt so right.

"Oh my god…" he whined, wondering vaguely why they'd never tried any of this before. Every flick of Puck's tongue was sending jolts of pleasure directly to Finn's cock. Tentatively, Finn roamed a hand across his friend's body, travelling from the nape of his neck across his chest and down the bumps of his abs. The other hand found its way to his mohawk, fingers tangling tightly in the strip of hair as he felt Puck's tongue explore its way through his mouth.

It was a lot of stimulation for Finn to deal with. He was starting to throb as he wantonly ground into his buddy's leg. It was all very overwhelming, but his embarrassment was mitigated by the feeling of Puck's equally rigid hard-on pressing back into him. As yet another kiss sent a thrill of excitement ripping through his body, the hand in Puck's mohawk twisted involuntarily and he yanked up hard on his hair. Silently cursing himself for being so clumsy, Finn opened his mouth to apologize, only to be cut off by a little whimper of pleasure escaping Puck's throat. His eyes were shut and his lips parted, his whole body tensing with obvious arousal under Finn's hands.

Finn stared in awe at the spectacle before him. It was like he could feel some kind of carnal creature waking up in his gut. He never imagined he could have this kind of effect on Puck. It was all very exhilarating. Feeling encouraged by his buddy's reaction, Finn grinned and did it again, tugging hard and purposefully on a large fistful of hair. This time Puck cried out loudly, writhing under Finn's grip. It was probably the sexiest sound Finn had ever heard in his life.

Finn's heart was racing, and he found he rather liked having the upper hand. As fun as it was to let Puck run the show, that creature swirling in his gut reminded him that he was the bigger one of the pair of them. That meant he could run things if he wanted to, and oh man, did he want to.

So without warning, he knocked Puck on his back. The air left his buddy's lungs in a whoosh as he hit the floor with a thud. Stunned slightly, Puck stared up at him with wide eyes. Finn loomed over him, breathing hard. With one hand still tangled in Puck's hair, he pulled his head back roughly, exposing his neck. He kissed him once, right where his neck met his shoulder and Puck cried out, bucking up to meet him as Finn ground down into him. The feel of Puck's soft skin against his lips, his hard-on pressing into his thigh, and the tattoo of his pulse fluttering against his cheek was almost enough to do Finn in on the spot.

"Finn!" cried Puck, his voice cracking as he squirmed unabashedly under Finn's hands. This was easily the best wrestling match they'd ever had. Finn used his size to his advantage as he pinned Puck down by the hair and hip; he'd never been so happy that wrestling was one of the few things he'd always bested Puck at. The smaller boy twisted and bucked beneath him, putty in Finn's hands, and it was thrilling beyond his wildest imagination.

Proud of himself for being able to unravel Puck so easily, Finn trailed a searing line of kisses from his shoulder right up to his jaw. When he flicked his tongue against his earlobe, Puck let out a yell of delight that almost made Finn blow his load right then and there. He laughed as Puck writhed underneath him, trying to wiggle away from the too-intense pleasure. Following his instincts, Finn tightened his fingers in Puck's mohawk, holding him fast.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?" he heard himself ask gruffly, yanking Puck down a few inches by the hip, eliciting another almost orgasm-inducing yelp from the smaller boy.

"Nowhere," Puck grit out, his breath coming in sharp bursts. His eyes were glassy and his pupils were dilated. Finn could never have imagined a more arousing sight.

Puck's hands were suddenly all over Finn, pushing his T-shirt off over his head, leaning up to kiss him all along his chest and neck. Finn's eyes rolled back, and he nearly collapsed on top of Puck in the wake of the white-hot burn of lips. Nothing had ever felt so good. He was spiraling out of control, and if he let Puck carry on like this, he'd surely be wrecking another pair of underwear in no time. Wanting to prevent that degree of humiliation at all costs, he grabbed his friend by the shoulders and pinned him back down with more force than necessary. Puck's breath left him in a moan.

"You really like manhandling me, don't you Hudson?" he asked, his voice gravely and low. He managed to worm a hand free and it found its way to the back of Finn's neck, pulling him down into yet another kiss. This one was rougher and needier than before, and it drew a whine from the back of Finn's throat.

"Only if you do," Finn heard himself say.

Puck grinned. Finn was holding him so tight that he surely would bruise. Puck's chest was rising and falling in short gasps, his back arching off the floor. Finn could feel him trying to flip their positions, attempting to get on top and splay Finn out on his back, but Finn couldn't let that happen. He was about five seconds away from exploding all over his last clean pair of underwear. He used his last ounce of willpower to keep Puck rooted to the floor.

Eventually Puck gave up his squirming. When he spoke, his voice was thick with arousal, his hazel eyes flashing in a semi-crazed manner.

"I bet you could make me suck your cock if you wanted to," he rasped out.

"W-what," Finn stammered, that comment nearly short-circuiting his brain.

"You want me to suck you off? I'll do it if you want it."

And then Finn pictured it: Puck on his knees in front of him, cheeks hollowed around his cock, looking up at him affectionately as he sucked the freaking life force out of him. Finn's heart hammered. He was sweating as if he'd sprinted a mile. He turned his gaze skyward; silently praying to whichever god that would listen to not let him cream his pants like the awkward, bumbling virgin he so obviously was.

"Finn?" Puck asked, cocking his head to the side in confusion until reality dawned on him.

Finn tried to fight it but it was too late. The orgasm was already surging through his body, hitting him like a crashing ocean wave. He collapsed, rolling to his side so as to not crush Puck, twitching in the post-orgasmic euphoria. But that feeling of bliss was quickly replaced by a sense of humiliation that stuck to his soul in much the same way that his boxers were now sticking to his leg. The indignity of it all could have killed him, and to top it off, that nagging voice of his conscience was back in full swing, loudly chanting I told you so! I told you so! I told you so!

He'd never felt so disgraced in his life. How would he ever be able to face Puck after this? Surely their friendship would be over. He'd have to leave town. There was no other option. Feeling as though he was dying inside, Finn covered his face with his hands, hiding in what little security they provided.

A silent, awkward moment passed where neither boy said anything. Then Finn felt a subtle movement beside him as Puck's hand gently closed on his wrist. He was trying to uncover his face, but Finn just couldn't allow it. His cheeks burned in mortification and he prayed a fissure would open in the earth and swallow him whole.

"Dude," said Puck, his voice uncharacteristically kind. "Relax. It's okay." He tugged on Finn's wrist but Finn shrugged him off. "Relax. You think that's never happened to me before?"

Finn didn't respond. He highly doubted that Puck had ever been in a situation where he jizzed his pants after another dude offered to suck him off.

A beat passed. "You know I'll never tell anyone about this…" He let go of Finn's wrist, shifting to lie down next to him. Finn somehow felt a hundred times worse without that little bit of contact.

But again, he didn't respond, still holding out hope that the floor would swallow him up.

"And you know what else?" said Puck conspiratorially, rolling on his side and shaking Finn's shoulder. "In the off chance we did ever tell anyone, I'll tell 'em you were the stamina king…And that I passed out from exhaustion before you could even get off."

"Shut up," said Finn, his voice muffled by his hands. But he couldn't stop the small smile from twitching the corners of his mouth. He cut his eyes over to see Puck grinning at him, his cheek propped on his hand. He didn't look angry or disgusted or even like he was about to laugh. If anything, he was looking at Finn…fondly?

Slowly, Finn took his hands away from his face. "You really won't tell anyone?" he asked weakly.

Puck made a face. "Please. Like I'm ever gonna tell a soul we did all sorts of gay shit together. Come on. Get real."

Finn snorted.

"Why don't I just go and tell the world how I offered to suck you off while I'm at it?" Puck said with a smirk, waving his hand sarcastically. "That'll go over like a fart in church."

Finn laughed. He gave Puck a half-hearted punch on the shoulder. "Shut up, dude." He wouldn't admit it but he was feeling a little better. Like maybe this wouldn't be the complete end of the world after all.

"Here, let me get you something," Puck gave Finn's arm a one last squeeze before getting to his feet. He rummaged through his closet and fished out a pair of pajama pants with black and orange B's all over them. "You can keep these. They're too big on me anyway." He tossed them to Finn. "Besides I fucking hate the Bengals."

Finn nodded gratefully. The pair of pants he had on now were absolutely totaled. "Thanks. …Hey, where you going?" he asked, as Puck was headed for the door.

"Where do you think? Downstairs to toss one off. In case you've forgotten, you're the only one of us who's squeezed one out so far, you selfish prick," Puck said with a teasing grin.

"Hey, fuck off!" Finn called after his retreating back. "And for the record, we couldn't have done…you know, that thing you suggested. You're drunk. I'm not gonna take advantage of a drunk person. It isn't right."

Puck paused, poking his head back through the doorway. "Oh you don't understand. I wanted you to take advantage of me."

"No way!" said Finn, waving his hand dismissively as he turned the pajama pants over in his lap. "That would be like…rape or something."

"Can't rape the willing, Hudson!" Puck called from the hallway. "And for the record, I'm not even that drunk."

And Finn might have actually believed him if he didn't hear Puck go crashing sidelong into the banister a moment later.