Asses
Title: Asses
Character(s)/Pairing: Finn, Puck, Finn/Puck
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,600
Status: Complete
Notes/Warnings: I wrote something that wasn't RP-related. It might be a sign of the apocalypse.
Summary: The facts were this. One, love had a history of screwing Finn over and, sometimes, it was his fault. Two, he liked asses. Three... There shouldn't even be a third, but Puck's was there and he totally wasn't paying it any attention, okay? He totally was.
The fact of it all was that love had screwed him over a lot. Quinn. Rachel. Quinn again. Rachel again. Sometimes, the screwing up had been on him. Other times, it wasn’t. Really, his entire romantic life was kind of messed up and confusing. He’d flip flopped so many times between the two of them and maybe it had been stupid. He’d been stupid. He’d loved Quinn in his own way, though, and he did love Rachel.
He did.
Maybe he didn’t love her enough, though, because his eyes didn’t catch her first anymore. When he walked into a room, he used to spot her in a second, but now… It wasn’t her his eyes caught and it wasn’t like he had done it on purpose. He didn’t want to be looking at who he was looking at first now. It had just…kind of happened and he didn’t know why. Rachel was the girl he was supposed to be looking at. Tiny. Cute. His mom cooed about their height difference, because that was apparently a thing or something that didn’t make that much sense to him. Making out with Rachel gave him a neck cramp sometimes. Or she’d lose her balance in the heels she’d started wearing and just kind of trip sideways. They’d laugh and he liked the way she laughed, but she always bit his lip when she fell and it kind of hurt.
But, yeah. Rachel was the one he was supposed to be looking at. His girlfriend. His something, because they were making this long distance thing work. Skype. Visits to New York and Lima. She still wanted him to move out there with her, but… He didn’t know. It was weird. It was confusing. He loved her, but he didn’t want to be where she was. He didn’t want New York and the fast pace. He didn’t want the city that he’d gotten lost in when they went for Nationals and he’d tried to set that date up on his own. The streets were confusing and the buildings looked the same but different at the same time and…something.
He just didn’t like New York, okay? Not really. Visits were cool when Rachel or Kurt were leading the way, but he liked quiet. He liked the calm of Lima University even if he didn’t like Lima. The town kind of-really-sucked, but the pace was something he was better at. He knew people there. He’d made friends. He had the frat that was fun, even if they still thought he was gay and he wasn’t sure why he’d never actually bothered to tell them that he wasn’t. Maybe because he just didn’t care, he thought. It wasn’t like it was bad. A few years ago, he would have gotten weird about it, but Kurt was his brother now and he liked to think that he’d mellowed out. It wasn’t like the guys gave him or Puck any issues about it. They just made extra ass jokes.
Whatever. He liked asses.
Puck snored on the bed above him and he wrinkled his nose, bending a leg up to kick at the crappy mattress. Okay. Maybe he didn’t like one ass.
Well… Complicated. Asses. Puck was an ass, but he was a good ass and they’d been friends too long for him to not know that Puck’s actual ass was pretty nice. It was all the sports or something. He was pretty sure Puck did squats. Something that made his ass all… Kurt would call it a bubble butt. Had called it a bubble butt the last time he came home.
He hoped Puck didn’t pop it or something. It would be sad.
He shook his head and turned his face into his pillow. Stop thinking about asses, Finn. Or… Think about Rachel’s. Think about her butt. It was all little and cute and he’d never walked in on some guy in her ass before. On his bed.
Chip thought both of them were gay. He wasn’t, but Puck… Finn wasn’t sure what Puck liked or if he was just kind of doing the college thing. Quinn had done it. They’d all heard about her and Santana messing around at the not-wedding and he wasn’t sure how that stuff had gotten out, but it had and… He didn’t know what she was doing anymore. Who. Girl. Guy.
He never knew who Puck was doing anymore either.
Sorority girl one day.
Blowing some guy with emo hair the next and he knew Puck had to have been drunk out of his mind for that, because he had figured out the guy’s type at this point. He thought. Maybe.
Maybe he just wanted Puck to have a type because everybody had a type, but Puck wasn’t everyone. Puck did what he wanted and he’d always kind of admired the guy for that. Not for taking it up the butt. That… He wasn’t sure he wanted that. He’d walked in and seen how big some of the guys Puck slept with were and… Butt holes weren’t that big. He got the stretching thing, but ow.
Had to be tight, though.
Rachel was tight.
Rachel.
Come on. Think about Rachel. He wasn’t gonna get hard thinking about Puck having butt sex with guys in his bed. No. That was just…rude or something.
“Dude, there’s no head space on mine. How am I gonna bang anyone?”
“His room?”
“He lives in a fucking quad.”
He really needed to just tell Puck to stop having sex in his bed. There were, like, stains and stuff that weren’t his and he was a little tired of it and totally not turned on when he touched it by mistake.
Totally wasn’t jealous either, because there wasn’t a reason to be jealous. Puck was a dude and his bro and Rachel was his girlfriend. He loved her. She was awesome, even if she still got a little insane sometimes. And she had boobs.
Puck didn’t have boobs.
Except… Puck was the one he saw now. Puck was the one that he spotted first when he went into a room, even when Rachel was there and he wasn’t supposed to be. He told himself it was because he lived with the guy. He saw him all the time and he was used to looking for him, but… He didn’t actually have to look anymore. He just saw. Saw Puck standing across a room, a drink in hand, and leaning into someone’s ear. Someone he’d be taking home later.
And he totally didn’t sit out in the hall and pout while moaning drifted out through cinderblock walls. He totally didn’t. No matter what Frank from down the hall said. Frank was a liar.
He thought about Puck and…only some of the thoughts were kind of gay. It wasn’t like he’d ever actually asked Puck to kiss him. Puck had done it once when he was hammered and they had only kind of made out, but it didn’t count. Not at all. Just like the stupid sex dreams that should have been about Rachel and her parts but were about Puck and if his dick could seriously fit in the guy’s ass instead. He totally didn’t wonder why Puck liked it so much.
Totally hadn’t tried to use a couple fingers on himself and realized that a prostate was actually kind of fun.
No wonder Puck got loud when he brought a guy back to the dorm.
He shook his head, hard, and jumped when Puck hopped down from his bunk. Naked. He really had to buy the guy some PJs or something. It wasn’t fair. Puck didn’t care about walking around like that, but he did and… Fine. Okay. Puck’s ass gave him thoughts.
“I thought you were asleep.” Did his voice just crack?
“You kicked me.”
“Oh.”
It was like he could hear Puck roll his eyes and he turned his head away from the guy’s bubble butt-he was going to kill Kurt-so he could stare up at the stripes on Puck’s mattress that were thoroughly fascinating right then.
He heard Puck snort, amused, and he looked over. “What?”
“I interrupt something?”
“Huh?”
“You’re hard.”
Oh. Oh. Crap.
He pulled the blanket over himself, but it was already too late, because Puck had seen. It wasn’t like Puck knew what he’d been thinking about or that he’d been looking and wondering why the hell the guy had a hickey on his left butt cheek, but what if he could? Puck was good at reading people and, sometimes when he got drunk, he was half convinced that his friend could read minds.
Friend.
Puck was his friend.
“Dude.”
“I can’t make it just go down, man. It’s not magic. Just…go back to bed.”
Puck rolled his eyes and… Oh. Hi. He was right in his face now, chuckling. “You’re such a pussy.”
Those were the things he was supposed to be thinking about. Thanks for the reminder. Not that it was helping much, because Puck’s hand was close and, oh, they were doing the kissing thing now. No one was drunk and they were kissing. He was kissing back and… Yeah. Okay. He’d call Rachel in the morning and totally explain…something. Or find a way to make this not count.
Not right now, though.
Puck had just climbed into his lap and there was a naked guy in his lap, touching him, and…
Okay. Yeah. This didn’t suck.
Wow.
And Puck totally tasted like the Twizzlers the guy said Chip had taken. The liar.
The End
Character(s)/Pairing: Finn, Puck, Finn/Puck
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,600
Status: Complete
Notes/Warnings: I wrote something that wasn't RP-related. It might be a sign of the apocalypse.
Summary: The facts were this. One, love had a history of screwing Finn over and, sometimes, it was his fault. Two, he liked asses. Three... There shouldn't even be a third, but Puck's was there and he totally wasn't paying it any attention, okay? He totally was.
The fact of it all was that love had screwed him over a lot. Quinn. Rachel. Quinn again. Rachel again. Sometimes, the screwing up had been on him. Other times, it wasn’t. Really, his entire romantic life was kind of messed up and confusing. He’d flip flopped so many times between the two of them and maybe it had been stupid. He’d been stupid. He’d loved Quinn in his own way, though, and he did love Rachel.
He did.
Maybe he didn’t love her enough, though, because his eyes didn’t catch her first anymore. When he walked into a room, he used to spot her in a second, but now… It wasn’t her his eyes caught and it wasn’t like he had done it on purpose. He didn’t want to be looking at who he was looking at first now. It had just…kind of happened and he didn’t know why. Rachel was the girl he was supposed to be looking at. Tiny. Cute. His mom cooed about their height difference, because that was apparently a thing or something that didn’t make that much sense to him. Making out with Rachel gave him a neck cramp sometimes. Or she’d lose her balance in the heels she’d started wearing and just kind of trip sideways. They’d laugh and he liked the way she laughed, but she always bit his lip when she fell and it kind of hurt.
But, yeah. Rachel was the one he was supposed to be looking at. His girlfriend. His something, because they were making this long distance thing work. Skype. Visits to New York and Lima. She still wanted him to move out there with her, but… He didn’t know. It was weird. It was confusing. He loved her, but he didn’t want to be where she was. He didn’t want New York and the fast pace. He didn’t want the city that he’d gotten lost in when they went for Nationals and he’d tried to set that date up on his own. The streets were confusing and the buildings looked the same but different at the same time and…something.
He just didn’t like New York, okay? Not really. Visits were cool when Rachel or Kurt were leading the way, but he liked quiet. He liked the calm of Lima University even if he didn’t like Lima. The town kind of-really-sucked, but the pace was something he was better at. He knew people there. He’d made friends. He had the frat that was fun, even if they still thought he was gay and he wasn’t sure why he’d never actually bothered to tell them that he wasn’t. Maybe because he just didn’t care, he thought. It wasn’t like it was bad. A few years ago, he would have gotten weird about it, but Kurt was his brother now and he liked to think that he’d mellowed out. It wasn’t like the guys gave him or Puck any issues about it. They just made extra ass jokes.
Whatever. He liked asses.
Puck snored on the bed above him and he wrinkled his nose, bending a leg up to kick at the crappy mattress. Okay. Maybe he didn’t like one ass.
Well… Complicated. Asses. Puck was an ass, but he was a good ass and they’d been friends too long for him to not know that Puck’s actual ass was pretty nice. It was all the sports or something. He was pretty sure Puck did squats. Something that made his ass all… Kurt would call it a bubble butt. Had called it a bubble butt the last time he came home.
He hoped Puck didn’t pop it or something. It would be sad.
He shook his head and turned his face into his pillow. Stop thinking about asses, Finn. Or… Think about Rachel’s. Think about her butt. It was all little and cute and he’d never walked in on some guy in her ass before. On his bed.
Chip thought both of them were gay. He wasn’t, but Puck… Finn wasn’t sure what Puck liked or if he was just kind of doing the college thing. Quinn had done it. They’d all heard about her and Santana messing around at the not-wedding and he wasn’t sure how that stuff had gotten out, but it had and… He didn’t know what she was doing anymore. Who. Girl. Guy.
He never knew who Puck was doing anymore either.
Sorority girl one day.
Blowing some guy with emo hair the next and he knew Puck had to have been drunk out of his mind for that, because he had figured out the guy’s type at this point. He thought. Maybe.
Maybe he just wanted Puck to have a type because everybody had a type, but Puck wasn’t everyone. Puck did what he wanted and he’d always kind of admired the guy for that. Not for taking it up the butt. That… He wasn’t sure he wanted that. He’d walked in and seen how big some of the guys Puck slept with were and… Butt holes weren’t that big. He got the stretching thing, but ow.
Had to be tight, though.
Rachel was tight.
Rachel.
Come on. Think about Rachel. He wasn’t gonna get hard thinking about Puck having butt sex with guys in his bed. No. That was just…rude or something.
“Dude, there’s no head space on mine. How am I gonna bang anyone?”
“His room?”
“He lives in a fucking quad.”
He really needed to just tell Puck to stop having sex in his bed. There were, like, stains and stuff that weren’t his and he was a little tired of it and totally not turned on when he touched it by mistake.
Totally wasn’t jealous either, because there wasn’t a reason to be jealous. Puck was a dude and his bro and Rachel was his girlfriend. He loved her. She was awesome, even if she still got a little insane sometimes. And she had boobs.
Puck didn’t have boobs.
Except… Puck was the one he saw now. Puck was the one that he spotted first when he went into a room, even when Rachel was there and he wasn’t supposed to be. He told himself it was because he lived with the guy. He saw him all the time and he was used to looking for him, but… He didn’t actually have to look anymore. He just saw. Saw Puck standing across a room, a drink in hand, and leaning into someone’s ear. Someone he’d be taking home later.
And he totally didn’t sit out in the hall and pout while moaning drifted out through cinderblock walls. He totally didn’t. No matter what Frank from down the hall said. Frank was a liar.
He thought about Puck and…only some of the thoughts were kind of gay. It wasn’t like he’d ever actually asked Puck to kiss him. Puck had done it once when he was hammered and they had only kind of made out, but it didn’t count. Not at all. Just like the stupid sex dreams that should have been about Rachel and her parts but were about Puck and if his dick could seriously fit in the guy’s ass instead. He totally didn’t wonder why Puck liked it so much.
Totally hadn’t tried to use a couple fingers on himself and realized that a prostate was actually kind of fun.
No wonder Puck got loud when he brought a guy back to the dorm.
He shook his head, hard, and jumped when Puck hopped down from his bunk. Naked. He really had to buy the guy some PJs or something. It wasn’t fair. Puck didn’t care about walking around like that, but he did and… Fine. Okay. Puck’s ass gave him thoughts.
“I thought you were asleep.” Did his voice just crack?
“You kicked me.”
“Oh.”
It was like he could hear Puck roll his eyes and he turned his head away from the guy’s bubble butt-he was going to kill Kurt-so he could stare up at the stripes on Puck’s mattress that were thoroughly fascinating right then.
He heard Puck snort, amused, and he looked over. “What?”
“I interrupt something?”
“Huh?”
“You’re hard.”
Oh. Oh. Crap.
He pulled the blanket over himself, but it was already too late, because Puck had seen. It wasn’t like Puck knew what he’d been thinking about or that he’d been looking and wondering why the hell the guy had a hickey on his left butt cheek, but what if he could? Puck was good at reading people and, sometimes when he got drunk, he was half convinced that his friend could read minds.
Friend.
Puck was his friend.
“Dude.”
“I can’t make it just go down, man. It’s not magic. Just…go back to bed.”
Puck rolled his eyes and… Oh. Hi. He was right in his face now, chuckling. “You’re such a pussy.”
Those were the things he was supposed to be thinking about. Thanks for the reminder. Not that it was helping much, because Puck’s hand was close and, oh, they were doing the kissing thing now. No one was drunk and they were kissing. He was kissing back and… Yeah. Okay. He’d call Rachel in the morning and totally explain…something. Or find a way to make this not count.
Not right now, though.
Puck had just climbed into his lap and there was a naked guy in his lap, touching him, and…
Okay. Yeah. This didn’t suck.
Wow.
And Puck totally tasted like the Twizzlers the guy said Chip had taken. The liar.
The End