Parties Suck [Day 2: Solitude]
Title: Parties Suck
Author: andromedacain
Prompt #: Solitude
Prompt table: I
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Finn/Puck
Genre: Angst, Slash, Bits of Romance
Word count: [minimum of 100]
Disclamer: [put the appropriate disclaimer to each fandom]
Summary: 1645
Author’s Note: It’s late. And depressing. A reflection of my mood.
Finn wasn’t having very much fun at the party.
It all started during their weekly “Let’s all get together and pretend Glee is a family” night, where basically all they did was get drunk and start making out with each other. Fucked up and full of incest, but a family night all the same.
They’d all gotten pretty smashed, sang a few slurred songs, but it all came to a wheezing crescendo during Truth or Dare. “IIIII dare youuu, um, to drink this whole bottle,” Santana cried out, brandishing a half-finished bottle of wine.
Rachel, the person the dare was directed at, adjusted her skirt, trying not to look anxious. “Though I believe I could perform such a grotesque and vulgar act as that, my dads always taught me that it is unbecoming of a lady to partake in such-“
“Ah, just drink the bottle before I tape your mouth shut, bitch,” Santana ordered, sloshing the drink over Sam and Artie as she tried to give it to Rachel.
As Rachel downed the bottle, Sam spun the empty one. They all watched as, slowly yet surely, it landed on Puck. Sam raised an eyebrow, grinning. “I dare you…” he started, looking around the room before coming to his decision, “to give Mike a kiss. For thirty seconds.” The whole group “ooh”ed at the thought of ‘heterosexual’ Puck sucking face with another male.
Puck rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you think I’ll do anything with another dude, you have another thing coming.” He purposefully avoided Finn’s gaze.
Sam shook his head. “You know the drill, man. If you don’t do the dare, you have to drink a shot of piss. Would you really rather drink Artie’s piss?” Sam grinned. Finn, with a few jealous heart palpitations, questioned whether Sam was really only into this to humiliate Puck.
Puck made a face. “Jesus, fine, get your sick twisted mind full of this.” And with that, he stood, sat down next to Mike, and gave him a closed-mouth kiss for thirty seconds, all of which was timed out loud by the rest of the Glee club’s members. Excepting Finn.
As Puck pulled away with a dishearteningly wet sound, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and bowing for his clapping audience, Finn felt his neck grow red. He was angry. Jealous. Embarrassed. And, though he didn’t want to admit it, horribly crestfallen. Puck had never kissed him in public. Then again, the public didn’t even know about them. Staring down at his drink, heartbreak on his face, Finn hugged his knees to his chest, telling himself not to cry.
Finn felt a jab in his side. He looked to see Sam, smiling drunkenly. “You…it’s your turn, Finn. Spin.” Sighing, Finn complied.
After that, Santana and Britney had (by Santana’s orchestrations) made out more than a few times, Tina had blown a bottle, and Finn had had his fair share of make outs, including Sam and Mike. Each time he could see Puck grip his bottle tighter, feel his rage from across the room. Finn decided to ignore it.
A few hours later, though the party was still going strong, Finn decided to find some solitude. He’d left the room as soon as he saw Britney, the slutty drunk, start moving her hands around Puck’s body. Finn didn’t think he could stand seeing another person feel up his boyfriend or whatever Puck wanted to call himself.
Stumbling, Finn made his way through Sam’s hallway, searching for a place to be alone. He found his refuge in an abandoned family room, which housed a TV, a large couch, and a few gaming devices. Finn plopped himself down on the cushy seating, sighing. He imagined exactly what Britney could have done with Puck in the five minutes he’d been gone then found he was gripping the armrest a little too forcefully.
Finn shook his head. He decided he’d thought about Puck too much tonight; it hurt too much to go further. Instead, rather tired, Finn stretched out horizontally on the couch, aware of the pranks his friends could pull on him yet too dejected to stop himself from falling into a hazy sleep.
He awoke to a stumbling in the dark. Hearing more than one voice, Finn kept his eyes shut, hoping his hiding place would not be found.
“Wow, thassa big couch,” Britney announced loudly, making to sit on it.
Puck stopped her, grabbing her arm. “Wait, Finn’s sleeping.” He held a finger up to his lips to show she should keep silent.
Santana, who had decided to join in on their love fest, spoke up. “So what? He’s using the only available bedding we could find; let’s kick him out and have a hot three-way.” At that, Finn almost opened his eyes. Instead, he instinctively knitted his eyebrows at the thought, nuzzling his face against his arm as he adjusted himself.
Puck leaned forward, watching. “He’s…cute,” he whispered, his hot, alcohol-smelling breath hitting Finn’s cheek.
Santana rolled her eyes. “Are you going to moon over your boy crush or start making out with two hot cheerleaders?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“I can bend,” Britney announced.
Puck didn’t turn away from Finn. “Go away,” he ordered.
“Fucking homo,” Santana muttered, pulling Britney away to make out with her, ignoring the irony.
When the girls were gone, Puck studied Finn a few more seconds before easing himself down, pressing a soft kiss to Finn’s lips. The taller teen opened his eyes, wearing an unreadable expression.
“Were you awake?” Puck asked, rubbing his fingers against Finn’s arm.
Finn didn’t answer the question. Instead, “Were you going to have sex with them?” escaped his lips.
Puck closed his eyes, sighing. “Does it really matter?” he responded, looking away.
Finn sat up, staring down at his hands. “Yeah, actually, it kinda does. Especially after what you said last night.” Sniffing, Finn angrily rubbed at his eyes. He refused to cry.
Puck gritted his teeth. “I didn’t say it and you know it,” he stated, pulling his hand away from Finn and sitting on the other side of him.
The two sat in an awkwardly enraged silence for a few seconds. “Even if you didn’t say it, you shouldn’t be making out with other people,” Finn finally said, still looking down at his hands.
Puck shook his head. “Why the hell not? I’m allowed to make out with whoever I want.”
Finn felt his lip tremble. Standing, he made to leave the room. But first, he said his piece. “If that’s what you want, Noah Puckerman, then forget everything that’s happened these last four months. Don’t ever come near me again.” And with that, he turned on his heel.
He made it half a second before Puck grabbed him, forcing him against the wall. “What the fuck do you mean?” he growled out, possessive hands holding Finn back.
A treacherous tear running down his cheek, Finn responded. “I mean,” he started, staring Puck down, “I’m done with you. I’m tired of feeling like shit. I’m tired of you refusing to call this a relationship, of having to watch you flirt and make out with other girls. I’m just done.” He tried to pull away.
Puck tightened his grip on Finn’s arms. “Why can’t it all just be the same as before? Why do you have to put a name to this? Can’t I just be good enough for you?” His voice shook. He blamed it on the alcohol.
Finn shook his head. “You’ve always been good enough for me. It’s you who isn’t satisfied with me. You want everyone, you want to have sex with other girls, you don’t want to be gay. I get it. But I refuse to be your secret from now on.”
As he again tried to pull away, Puck growled, mashing his lips to Finn’s. It was an angry, biting kiss, filled with angst yet devoid of the sweetness of last night. Finn felt his heart breaking.
He pulled away from the kiss, eyes full of an intense sorrow. “I get it. You didn’t mean what you said last night. So just let me go.”
Puck closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Finn’s shoulder. “Just…stop, Finn. Please. I can’t let you go. Don’t…don’t leave me.” Finn could feel Puck’s body shake against him.
Finn leaned his head back against the wall, unsure of what to do. “I…I can’t do it anymore, Puck. It hurts too much. You don’t understand just how crushing it is to see your boyfriend throw himself at any willing chick. I don’t want to feel that anymore.” A few more tears slipped from his eyes.
Puck screwed up his courage, looking up into Finn’s eyes. “I feel that every time I do something with another girl. You really think I want to be with them? But I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t let anybody know about us.”
That admission pushed the dagger straight through Finn’s heart. “Don’t you see why I can’t do this anymore? Puck, you just admitted to being ashamed of yourself. Of me. And I can’t take it anymore.” Taking a breath, Finn forced Puck to let him go. At the door, he turned. “Just so you know, I do love you Puck. But I won’t stop myself from finding someone else. I…” he drew a shake breath, “I deserve some happiness.”
As the door shut, leaving Puck in darkness, the teen felt his composure slip, gasping out sobs with tears racing across his cheeks. Sitting back against the wall, head in his hands, Puck whispered, “I did say it. I do love you.” But he hadn’t had the courage to admit it to Finn; it was too late. Finn was gone. Puck was alone.
Author: andromedacain
Prompt #: Solitude
Prompt table: I
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Finn/Puck
Genre: Angst, Slash, Bits of Romance
Word count: [minimum of 100]
Disclamer: [put the appropriate disclaimer to each fandom]
Summary: 1645
Author’s Note: It’s late. And depressing. A reflection of my mood.
Finn wasn’t having very much fun at the party.
It all started during their weekly “Let’s all get together and pretend Glee is a family” night, where basically all they did was get drunk and start making out with each other. Fucked up and full of incest, but a family night all the same.
They’d all gotten pretty smashed, sang a few slurred songs, but it all came to a wheezing crescendo during Truth or Dare. “IIIII dare youuu, um, to drink this whole bottle,” Santana cried out, brandishing a half-finished bottle of wine.
Rachel, the person the dare was directed at, adjusted her skirt, trying not to look anxious. “Though I believe I could perform such a grotesque and vulgar act as that, my dads always taught me that it is unbecoming of a lady to partake in such-“
“Ah, just drink the bottle before I tape your mouth shut, bitch,” Santana ordered, sloshing the drink over Sam and Artie as she tried to give it to Rachel.
As Rachel downed the bottle, Sam spun the empty one. They all watched as, slowly yet surely, it landed on Puck. Sam raised an eyebrow, grinning. “I dare you…” he started, looking around the room before coming to his decision, “to give Mike a kiss. For thirty seconds.” The whole group “ooh”ed at the thought of ‘heterosexual’ Puck sucking face with another male.
Puck rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you think I’ll do anything with another dude, you have another thing coming.” He purposefully avoided Finn’s gaze.
Sam shook his head. “You know the drill, man. If you don’t do the dare, you have to drink a shot of piss. Would you really rather drink Artie’s piss?” Sam grinned. Finn, with a few jealous heart palpitations, questioned whether Sam was really only into this to humiliate Puck.
Puck made a face. “Jesus, fine, get your sick twisted mind full of this.” And with that, he stood, sat down next to Mike, and gave him a closed-mouth kiss for thirty seconds, all of which was timed out loud by the rest of the Glee club’s members. Excepting Finn.
As Puck pulled away with a dishearteningly wet sound, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and bowing for his clapping audience, Finn felt his neck grow red. He was angry. Jealous. Embarrassed. And, though he didn’t want to admit it, horribly crestfallen. Puck had never kissed him in public. Then again, the public didn’t even know about them. Staring down at his drink, heartbreak on his face, Finn hugged his knees to his chest, telling himself not to cry.
Finn felt a jab in his side. He looked to see Sam, smiling drunkenly. “You…it’s your turn, Finn. Spin.” Sighing, Finn complied.
After that, Santana and Britney had (by Santana’s orchestrations) made out more than a few times, Tina had blown a bottle, and Finn had had his fair share of make outs, including Sam and Mike. Each time he could see Puck grip his bottle tighter, feel his rage from across the room. Finn decided to ignore it.
A few hours later, though the party was still going strong, Finn decided to find some solitude. He’d left the room as soon as he saw Britney, the slutty drunk, start moving her hands around Puck’s body. Finn didn’t think he could stand seeing another person feel up his boyfriend or whatever Puck wanted to call himself.
Stumbling, Finn made his way through Sam’s hallway, searching for a place to be alone. He found his refuge in an abandoned family room, which housed a TV, a large couch, and a few gaming devices. Finn plopped himself down on the cushy seating, sighing. He imagined exactly what Britney could have done with Puck in the five minutes he’d been gone then found he was gripping the armrest a little too forcefully.
Finn shook his head. He decided he’d thought about Puck too much tonight; it hurt too much to go further. Instead, rather tired, Finn stretched out horizontally on the couch, aware of the pranks his friends could pull on him yet too dejected to stop himself from falling into a hazy sleep.
He awoke to a stumbling in the dark. Hearing more than one voice, Finn kept his eyes shut, hoping his hiding place would not be found.
“Wow, thassa big couch,” Britney announced loudly, making to sit on it.
Puck stopped her, grabbing her arm. “Wait, Finn’s sleeping.” He held a finger up to his lips to show she should keep silent.
Santana, who had decided to join in on their love fest, spoke up. “So what? He’s using the only available bedding we could find; let’s kick him out and have a hot three-way.” At that, Finn almost opened his eyes. Instead, he instinctively knitted his eyebrows at the thought, nuzzling his face against his arm as he adjusted himself.
Puck leaned forward, watching. “He’s…cute,” he whispered, his hot, alcohol-smelling breath hitting Finn’s cheek.
Santana rolled her eyes. “Are you going to moon over your boy crush or start making out with two hot cheerleaders?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“I can bend,” Britney announced.
Puck didn’t turn away from Finn. “Go away,” he ordered.
“Fucking homo,” Santana muttered, pulling Britney away to make out with her, ignoring the irony.
When the girls were gone, Puck studied Finn a few more seconds before easing himself down, pressing a soft kiss to Finn’s lips. The taller teen opened his eyes, wearing an unreadable expression.
“Were you awake?” Puck asked, rubbing his fingers against Finn’s arm.
Finn didn’t answer the question. Instead, “Were you going to have sex with them?” escaped his lips.
Puck closed his eyes, sighing. “Does it really matter?” he responded, looking away.
Finn sat up, staring down at his hands. “Yeah, actually, it kinda does. Especially after what you said last night.” Sniffing, Finn angrily rubbed at his eyes. He refused to cry.
Puck gritted his teeth. “I didn’t say it and you know it,” he stated, pulling his hand away from Finn and sitting on the other side of him.
The two sat in an awkwardly enraged silence for a few seconds. “Even if you didn’t say it, you shouldn’t be making out with other people,” Finn finally said, still looking down at his hands.
Puck shook his head. “Why the hell not? I’m allowed to make out with whoever I want.”
Finn felt his lip tremble. Standing, he made to leave the room. But first, he said his piece. “If that’s what you want, Noah Puckerman, then forget everything that’s happened these last four months. Don’t ever come near me again.” And with that, he turned on his heel.
He made it half a second before Puck grabbed him, forcing him against the wall. “What the fuck do you mean?” he growled out, possessive hands holding Finn back.
A treacherous tear running down his cheek, Finn responded. “I mean,” he started, staring Puck down, “I’m done with you. I’m tired of feeling like shit. I’m tired of you refusing to call this a relationship, of having to watch you flirt and make out with other girls. I’m just done.” He tried to pull away.
Puck tightened his grip on Finn’s arms. “Why can’t it all just be the same as before? Why do you have to put a name to this? Can’t I just be good enough for you?” His voice shook. He blamed it on the alcohol.
Finn shook his head. “You’ve always been good enough for me. It’s you who isn’t satisfied with me. You want everyone, you want to have sex with other girls, you don’t want to be gay. I get it. But I refuse to be your secret from now on.”
As he again tried to pull away, Puck growled, mashing his lips to Finn’s. It was an angry, biting kiss, filled with angst yet devoid of the sweetness of last night. Finn felt his heart breaking.
He pulled away from the kiss, eyes full of an intense sorrow. “I get it. You didn’t mean what you said last night. So just let me go.”
Puck closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Finn’s shoulder. “Just…stop, Finn. Please. I can’t let you go. Don’t…don’t leave me.” Finn could feel Puck’s body shake against him.
Finn leaned his head back against the wall, unsure of what to do. “I…I can’t do it anymore, Puck. It hurts too much. You don’t understand just how crushing it is to see your boyfriend throw himself at any willing chick. I don’t want to feel that anymore.” A few more tears slipped from his eyes.
Puck screwed up his courage, looking up into Finn’s eyes. “I feel that every time I do something with another girl. You really think I want to be with them? But I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t let anybody know about us.”
That admission pushed the dagger straight through Finn’s heart. “Don’t you see why I can’t do this anymore? Puck, you just admitted to being ashamed of yourself. Of me. And I can’t take it anymore.” Taking a breath, Finn forced Puck to let him go. At the door, he turned. “Just so you know, I do love you Puck. But I won’t stop myself from finding someone else. I…” he drew a shake breath, “I deserve some happiness.”
As the door shut, leaving Puck in darkness, the teen felt his composure slip, gasping out sobs with tears racing across his cheeks. Sitting back against the wall, head in his hands, Puck whispered, “I did say it. I do love you.” But he hadn’t had the courage to admit it to Finn; it was too late. Finn was gone. Puck was alone.