(Author's note: it's been a while since I thought about this story, but I was inspired to keep working on it. Thanks to all of you who like this pairing. It's my first time writing Sam. Enjoy! -amy)
Sam could hear the muted sounds of his family's conversation as they climbed the stairs to the apartment. Stacey opened the door before he could even wrestle his keys out of his bag.
"What are you still doing up?" he asked her, though he knew the answer.
"It's Thursday," Stacey said. "Project Runway. Who're you?"
"I'm Puck," he said, waving. "I remember when you came to Glee club and sang with us. You got taller. Don't you have a brother? I mean, besides Sam?"
"Stevie doesn't like Project Runway," she confided, pushing the door closed behind them. "He's playing Spot It with Grandpa." She looked at Puck's bag with interest. "Are you coming to sleep over tonight? 'Cause Grandma don't have too many beds left."
Sam's mind fluttered back to the embarrassing hate-dance he'd given Puck at the club, and he hoped he wasn't blushing too terribly as he gave him an apologetic shrug. "It's a little crowded here since we all came to stay. But my mom and dad are both working, and pretty soon we'll be able to afford a mortgage..." He realized he was babbling, and he closed his mouth as they entered the kitchen.
"Ah, Sam's home," a grainy voice announced. "And he's brought a friend." A set of brown eyes gazed at Puck behind a pair of reading glasses. "Evening, son. Name's Dwight." He put down his newspaper and held out a withered hand for Puck to shake. Stevie set down his cards and stared up at Puck.
"Puckerman." Puck shook hands quickly, withdrawing his back into the pocket of his leather jacket.
"Sam, honey, why are you home at this time? Did the Dairy Queen let you finish early?" Sam's mother bustled out from a corridor, stopping with an abrupt smile when she saw Puck, Stacey close behind. "Hello, dear, my name's Mary." She held out a hand, which Puck awkwardly shook.
"Puckerman," he repeated.
"Anyway," Sam cleared his throat loudly, gaining undivided attention from everyone in the room. "Puck is... a friend from Ohio. They need me to go back for Glee club." Sam tried to speak convincingly, but he just sounded rushed. He'd practiced in the car, but the disoriented drive hadn't been much help.
"Back to Ohio? For Glee club?" His mother glanced back and forth between Puck and Sam with concern. "What's going on here, Sammy?"
"If we don't have enough singers, we can't go to Regionals," Puck explained. "Sam was kind of our key dude, and when he left, we lost a big advantage. Now we might not be able to compete at all. I came down on behalf of Glee club to ask Sam to help us out."
"Please? I-I really want to. I want to help," he added at his family's expressions. There was an awkward pause, before his mother spoke.
"Sam, honey... this sounds complicated. I mean, first of all, where would you stay?"
Sam knew what his mom was trying to do - she was going to list all the logical reasons it wouldn't work until she wore him down. Which meant she wasn't sure if she could stop him or not. He opened his mouth to reply, but Puck's voice surprised him first.
"He can stay with my family." Sam thought he spotted a mischievous glint in Puck's eye, but he couldn't be sure, and his face was sober and earnest. "It's no big. We have an extra bed."
Puck shrugged at the disbelieving stare from Sam. Mary must have noticed it, as she turned to Puck with a very polite smile.
"Puck, do you mind if we talk in private for a moment?" she said. "Stevie, show Puck where the television is, and get him a soda."
"Yes ma'am," Steve said, scrambling up from the table. "You want to play Spot It?"
"You'll have to teach me," he said. He placed his hands in his pockets and followed Stevie out of the room without a backward glance.
With Puck gone Mary turned back to Sam, her eyes flashing. "Sam, is this really what you want?"
"Yes, ma'am. I want it. I mean, I want to go back to Glee club." Sam pursed his lips at the realization of what he had almost said, and pushed through it with determination. "I miss it, and they need me."
"Mary, he's trying to take responsibility," said his grandfather. "You know Ephraim would say the same if he were here. I don't see any harm in him going back for a little while. You know that this dang school ain't teaching him anything he don't already know."
Sam turned to his mom. "If it's the money, Mom, I can get a job up in Lima, too. It might not be as much as I can make here, but -"
"No, no... it's not." He saw the tear in her eye, but she dashed it away before it could fall. "Sammy, you should go."
"Really?" Sam breathed, wondering if he had heard wrong.
"You helped your family through so much, and you're just a teenager," she said proudly. Sam felt a wash of love as she moved forward to move a lock of hair away from his face, admiring the person underneath. "You deserve this."
"I'll call every night," he swore, hugging her tightly, "and I promise, I won't do anything stupid. I won't let you down."
He ducked his head into the family room, where Stevie was frowning with concentration at the circular cards. Puck was clearly losing, but Sam couldn't tell if it was intentional or just because he was bad at the game. Sam joined them on the floor, settling himself cross-legged beside both of them.
"Clock," he said, pointing at the card in the center. Puck gave him a wounded look.
"Dude, I'm getting crushed here," he said, as Stevie gleefully collected the card.
"You really want me to tell everybody on Facebook that Puckerman needed help beating my seven-year-old brother?"
"Why not," Puck muttered. "You tell everybody everything else on Facebook. Skull." He snatched the card away from the stack. "Fucking A."
"You can't say that word," Stevie whispered, aghast. Puck had the courtesy to look embarrassed.
"Sorry, man. My little sister's heard it all. I forget sometimes."
"It's okay," Stevie said, patting his knee concilatorially. "I've heard it all too. I just don't want you to get in trouble with Grandpa. He's pretty strict."
Puck grinned widely, his eyes sparkling. "I'll keep it mind, but I don't think I'll be around long enough for your grandpa to give me a spanking."
Sam laughed out loud at that one. "Uh, Stevie, I wanted to tell you... you can have the guest bed, if you want. I won't be around for a while."
Puck's grin turned to surprise. "They - you can go?"
Sam couldn't help smiling back, even though he knew it made his mouth look freakishly huge. He just felt so damned happy. "Yeah. I can go."
"Where are you goin', Sammy?" Stevie said, the game forgotten. He clambered across the pile of cards into Sam's lap.
"I have to go back to Lima. My friends in Glee, they need me to sing, or else they don't get to do their competition." He looked sternly down at Stevie. "You know what this means, don't you? It means you're man of the house, when Dad's at work. You're gonna have to make sure Stacey takes her medicine and brushes her teeth and goes to bed before Letterman. Understand?"
"I understand," Stevie said, his eyes wide. "Are you going to come back?"
"He will," said Puck. "I'll drive him back myself, any time he wants to come visit."
Stevie hugged Sam tight, an unusual display of affection for his brother, and Sam felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes. "I'll be back as soon as we win Regionals."
"Hey, you think we're going to let you go before we take Nationals?" said Puck, standing and stretching. "No freaking way."
It took Sam less than ten minutes to pack everything he owned into two duffel bags. Puck loaded them into the back of his truck, along with Sam's guitar. There was an awkward moment between them as he slammed the door. Puck stared at Sam in the light of the streetlamp, his feet scuffing in the gravel.
"You sure this is okay?" Puck asked. His voice sounded low and uncertain.
Sam reached out and took his arm, squeezing it. He could feel Puck's muscles flexing under his fingers, and he heard him take a quick little breath.
"I want to help," Sam said. "You guys in Glee were so awesome to me and my family, and you're all kind of like my family now, too. I miss you. You guys. I miss everyone."
For a minute Sam thought he'd said the wrong thing, but then Puck nodded.
"That's good, man," he said. "We missed you, too."
Sam went back in to give everybody one last hug, and his mom promised she'd explain and make everything okay with his dad when he got home from work. Stacey cried a little, but Sam knew it was mostly because it was after eleven, and everything was so much worse after eleven o'clock when you were four.
"Call when you get there," his mom said, pressing a handful of wadded bills into his hand. "And don't drive too late. Get a motel."
For some reason this made Sam cry when nothing else that night had. He kissed her. "I'll mail you the last paycheck when they deposit it."
She shook her head, smiling. "Keep it, baby. Give to Puck's family, or to Puck for gas money. We'll get along."
He knew they would, but it was still hard to hear, and he climbed into the cab of the truck with a heavy heart.
"My mom gave us money for a motel," said Sam. "And I can drive if you get too tired."
"Hey, it's only four hours," Puck said, gunning the engine. "If you don't mind me singing eighties metal the whole way home, I'll be fine."
Sam grinned at that. "Let me mix in a little Beiber and One Direction, and it's all good."
They sounded fucking awesome together, of course, and by running through the radio stations they found plenty of music they both knew.
youtube watch?v=U3sMjm9Eloo
Life's like a road that you travel on
When there's one day here and the next day gone
Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand
Sometimes you turn your back to the wind
There's a world outside ev'ry darkened door
Where blues won't haunt you anymore
Where brave are free and lovers soar
Come ride with me to the distant shore
We won't hesitate
To break down the garden gate
There's not much time left today
Life is a highway
I wanna ride it all night long
If you're going my way
I wanna drive it all night long
It made Sam feel joyous inside to hear Puck singing the harmony while he belted out the high notes, in a way he'd never quite felt with the church choir. He leaned back in his seat, propping his feet up on the dash, and breathed in the freedom he hadn't felt since they'd left Lima.
They made it as far as Dayton before Puck's tires started wandering over onto the rumble strips. "Fuck, man," he yawned. "I'm bushed. You up for a turn?"
"Nah, I'm falling asleep myself." Sam pointed at the Red Roof sign towering above the highway. "Come on. My mom's treat, and it'll have breakfast. We can get up early and still make it back in time for Friday morning classes."
The motel was a little seedy, but it was better than sleeping in the back of the truck as far as Sam was concerned. Puck dumped his bag on the orange burlap-covered chair by the window, and flopped onto the bed, one arm flung over his eyes. "You go first in the bathroom."
He must have been really tired, because it didn't even occur to either of them that there was only one bed until he came out of the bathroom in boxers and t-shirt. Puck was already under the covers, a pillow over his head. Sam hesitated only a moment before shutting off the light and climbing in on the other side. It's not like he's never seen you naked before, in football and everything. Not to mention earlier that night.
Sam tried not to think about that.
"Your little brother," said Puck, startling Sam.
"Dude, I thought you were asleep." Sam turned to face Puck, who emerged from under the pillow. "Yeah, Stevie."
"You're really good with him. I mean, he seems to trust you."
"I love him," Sam said. "With my dad working nights and my mom taking extra shifts, he's been depending on me more. My sister's tougher, but Stevie, he's kind of sensitive. Not that he'd ever admit to it. He gets into a lot of fights at school."
Puck nodded. "It took a lot for you to leave them tonight. I just want you to know I could tell. I was serious about what I said, okay? I'll bring you down whenever you want. My sister's a little older than Stevie; maybe she could come along."
Sam wasn't sure what to say. "Thanks," he said eventually.
Sam was used to sleeping in a bed with his siblings, so later in the night when he felt the warmth of Puck's body beside his, he didn't do more than move over a little to give him more room. But then he felt Puck's hand tuck inside his boxers and cup his balls in his hand, and he woke up in a hurry.
"Puck," he whispered.
"Shhh," Puck said. His fingers gripped Sam's cock loosely, squeezing, and Sam gave an involuntary grunt.
Puck rolled in a little closer, and Sam realized several things all at once. One was that Puck wasn't wearing anything. Another was that Puck was rock-hard and leaking and rubbing slow, rhythmic pushes against his thigh. The third and most surprising was that the thing that was turning him on most was the whispered shhh in his ear.
"Puck, I'm not gay," he said.
Puck's lips grazed the skin behind his ear, and Sam whimpered. "So what? It feels good. Just... let me make you feel good."
"Puck..." Sam said again, but it came out more like a moan.
"Tell me you don't want it, and I'll stop."
The word stop was just as compelling as the word shhh, the sibilant s and the plosive p touching him in places he hadn't really ever considered wanting to be touched. Puck's hand was still moving, slowly, almost too slowly to feel good, and Sam thrust forward into his fist. Puck chuckled quietly.
"God, you were so fucking on tonight," he went on, his breath hot and wet against Sam's neck. Sam felt Puck's bicep curl under his head, like a pillow stuffed with warm rice. Puck picked up the pace, stroking him more firmly at the same time he nudged harder against Sam's leg. "I've seen lots of guys dance, but nobody's ever turned me on like you did."
"Really?" Sam asked. He would definitely have been mortified by the desperate neediness in his own voice, if he hadn't been so overwhelmed by Puck's words, Puck's hands, Puck's cock on his fucking thigh.
"Totally. Even if you hadn't agreed to come back to Lima, that would have... fuck... been worth the drive." Puck's words were becoming more erratic, and Sam's head swam as Puck's teeth grazed his neck. Sam whimpered at the sensation of Puck's thumb brushing the head of his swollen cock.
"I didn't even know you liked guys," he said, and what a stupid thing was that to say? He could say, I wanted you to touch me, or, you really turned me on too, or even do that thing again with your thumb. But Puck just sighed, getting up on one knee to hump Sam's hip.
"Yeah, well, it's not something you advertise in Ohio. Sam, can I come on you?"
"What?" he blurted.
Puc lifted himself up, kneeling over Sam, stroking them both in tandem. "I'm gonna come, and can I come on you, yes or no, man, whatever, just tell me quick."
"Uh - fuck, yeah, please?" Sam really couldn't believe he was saying it, but even as he did, he beat Puck to it, giving one final thrust up into Puck's slick hand, coating himself with his own come. Puck finished almost silently, but his body shuddered and shook, and he clutched at Sam's shoulders like he needed something to hold him up. Sam didn't even care about the mess, he just pulled him down on top of him, making room for him between his trembling thighs.
"Hey," he said softly. "That... uh. What was that?"
"I told you, man," said Puck, and took a long, slow, satisfied breath. "It felt good, didn't it?"
"Well, yeah." Sam had to laugh a little. "Kind of surprising, though."
"Good surprising?"
Sam cracked a huge yawn in reply, and Puck laughed. "Forget it. Just go to sleep. We have to be on the road in four hours."
There was plenty of space in the bed, but Puck moved over to one side and hooked an arm around Sam, hauling him out of the wet spot. That put Sam right up against Puck again. He draped an arm over Puck's chest and felt the sticky stuff left behind. Puck just made me come, he thought.
Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it at all.