Title: Pretty.
Rating: Smutty smut smut.
Summary: Puck is pretty desperate. Sam is pretty enough. And hell, it's pretty easy.
Prompt: "Sam/Puck, based on the balls-in-mouth comment made by Puck. Doesn't have to involve actual sex. Puck is controlling, Sam is willing. Extra points if Puck is surprised by how willing Sam is! Locker-room for extra EXTRA points."-
Word Count: 2,052.
It’d been a while since Puck had properly gotten off. In between skanks at McDonalds (or Starbucks or school), the cougar population had started to lose its luster. He was down to practically begging Santana to just come over, but they’d had a fight over something stupid and she was refusing to back down. Something about Quinn - Puck hadn’t paid attention, mostly because he was straight back to getting one-handed love from himself.
Which was the most boring shit ever.
Finn called some weird guys-only meeting in Glee for the sake of auditioning some new recruit in private. Of all the dudes Puck knew, Finn was probably the gayest (including Kurt), so he was mildly hesitant. For all he knew it was gonna be some orgy of losers, and that wasn’t okay with him.
His surprised was obvious when that Sam kid dawdled in with a shy smile and this weird ‘come hither’ kind of aura about him. New kids were like toys - everyone wanted them ‘cause they were new. Usually this only ever registered when it was a foreign exchange student so… Puck was stunned. In a slack-jaw, what-the-fuck-is-this kind of way.
“Dude your mouth is huge…”
Puck wasn’t exactly sure what the fuck possessed him to even ask the question, let alone think of it in the first place. Maybe it was because the brief time he’d seen Sam in the locker room, he hadn’t even given a second thought to the dude who looked like that Beiber chick on steroids. It was pretty standard - blonde jock idiot. Puck had better things to think about (like Santana’s boobs - in a totally concerned way. Not because he fucking loved them).
The way Finn laughs at Sam’s response makes him feel a little relieved. So it wasn’t like anyone took him seriously - he just chuckled and laughed it off as a gay joke. Whatever. None of them needed to know he was deadly serious about the whole thing. Puck was a curious kid, so when he got a thought in his head, he made that shit happen ASAP. And considering the fact Sam (his name was Sam? Lame) looked kinda gay anyway, it would be pretty easy.
It wasn’t even like he was gay, because getting head from a dude didn’t involve any penis on (or in) him so… Yeah. It was gay for the other guy, and if he just pretended they were a butch chick from the hockey team, he was sweet. He could totally do that. Puck was badass enough for no one to even question it.
With enough justification he went for it. He’d somewhat purposefully taken forever in the locker room with a shoelace that he had to re-thread… And wouldn’t you know it, Sam couldn’t find his clothes. It was like someone had purposefully thrown them into a different locker. Who on Earth would do such a horrible (genius) thing?
Puck felt a proud smirk pull at his lips as he tied his shoe up properly. Part of him noticed the fact Sam was only in a towel - hot. Not - like - hot, hot. Just the fact it was easy access and stuff. Puck shot Sam a sideways glance, contemplating how to deal with this delicate situation.
“You should really get some clothes on dude, people don’t appreciate it when you run around naked. I know that from experience,” he offered as if it were sagely advice. With a smirk he pressed himself up from the bench, his arms crossed (definitely not to show off the guns, are you crazy).
Sam shot a half-hearted scowl over his shoulder, “You’d probably like it,” he scoffed. After a few more minutes of searching, he rounded on Puck, “Dude, did someone run off with my clothes or something?”
“Nah, they’re around here somewhere.”
“Tell me, I have to go to Math,” Sam stressed with raised eyebrow, his frown turned into a desperately pathetic slack jaw, “seriously, where the fuck are they?”
“I could tell you…” Puck shrugged.
“But?”
“Don’t wanna.”
This clearly didn’t sit well with Sam as he kicked his locker door shut. This hardly phased Puck, seeing as the other boy was as threatening as a puppy dog. Sam attempted to be intimidating, but that fucking failed as soon as he remembered he was dripping wet and in a towel. They were inches apart, Puck’s chin tilted in an amused fashion.
He was kinda thankful he had his shoes on - Sam was like, 6’, and he was only 5’ 11”. It evened out with shoes on. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other before scoffing a little. “Sup Bieber? All up in my personal space for a reason or are you just that eager to get balls in your m -”
So this was going to be easier than he thought. The fact Sam roughly shoved him against the lockers was a little alarming before he felt the familiar (yet totally foreign) sensation of lips mashing hopefully against his own. It took a second for his composure to return to him before he flipped the situation, his hands either side of Sam. Puck licked his lips as he gave the briefest what-the-fuck look he could manage before deciding that - fuck - that mouth was actually kinda tempting. Fuck it.
It was Puck that took it that step further, his hands gripping tightly at Sam’s hips. From experience, give a little, get a lot. His restraint ebbed off after he felt the recognizably desperate tongue against his bottom lip. Why the hell did it feel like Sam had done this shit before? Did he care? No.
“Seriously Evans?” Puck muttered hoarsely, shifting his attention to the other’s jaw line. He attempted a few playful bites and licks before becoming acutely aware that the dude actually had some kind of stubble. Ew, but, whatever, better things to worry about at this point. He heard a few mumbled words before drawing back. “Huh?” he grunted, an eyebrow cocked at the blonde.
“I’m guessing you and Hudson practice this all the time?” Sam chuckled idly, his bottom lip catching defiantly between his teeth.
“Fuck off, you’re the one that’s a total fucking -”
“I’m not the one that’s already got a hard on for a dude,” Sam incredulously, his fingertips raking a path across Puck’s thigh. This really wasn’t okay with Puck - he scowled, determined to move this along. No kissing, making out bullshit. That was only when girls put up playful resistance. Sam clearly had no issues with this.
“Maybe you should get on that,” he growled against Sam’s ear, “if you want your clothes, that is. Y’re already five minutes late for Math.”
“Shit, really?”
Puck smirked without restraint as he registered the mild panic in Sam’s eyes. The boy seriously wanted to go to that class. Whatever. Part of him wanted to suggest he should go search lockers, but when Sam sunk to his knees without a question further? Puck really didn’t expect this to even work. He felt like the director of a bad gay porn or something.
Between the friction of his jeans (and the lack of boxers), Puck couldn’t be blamed for the fact he was already halfway to somewhere. It didn’t help with Sam being waaaay too confident with his hands, or the way he just sort of lingered there on his knees. Puck kept this half-hearted scowl across his features as Sam just smirked up at him. Smirking was his thing - seriously. Not cool. “Math.”
With this rather weird word prompt, Sam seemed to swallow his pride and restraint. His hands were surprisingly adept as he unzipped Puck’s fly. And this was pretty much like Christmas - Puck got what he wanted, once again. And it was sex-related, once again. His tongue darted out once again in cool attempt to act nonchalant, when inside? Not at all.
“Butch hockey player with stubble and man hands.” Puck told himself.
The rough texture of Sam’s hand against his skin was pretty much all he needed to convince himself this was really a good idea. There was this moment where he doubted his ingenious plan - that was until Sam started moving his hand at this painfully slow pace, eliciting a shiver from Puck’s toes to the back of his neck.
The sound of Sam’s occasionally amused chuckles broke the otherwise silent locker-room. Although Puck was basically lost to the push and pull of the blond’s hand, he wasn’t even sure it was real. Seriously. This wasn’t - it didn’t make any sense. Somehow they shuffled so Puck was pressed firmly against the lockers. It wasn’t like Puck to accept this kind of treatment, but he also didn’t make a habit of getting handjobs off dudes in the locker-room…
“Fuck…” he absently groaned, Sam’s pace speeding up the slightest. He kept a vague awareness of the boy in front of him, but it was getting harder the more Sam did - whatever the fuck he was doing. His free hand (the one that wasn’t clawing stupidly at the locker behind him) took a firm grasp of Sam’s wrist.
“More,” he growled, the hand quickly shifting to tangle through Sam’s hair. The boy seemed totally unperturbed by the request, and easily complied (Puck kinda thought it was too easy, but… whatever). If Puck had been shivering just from the feeling of a hand? Well fuck, this was amazing.
All the stupid shit he’d hazed Sam with over the past few weeks made sense. Since the balls in mouth comment, he’d honestly put thought into it, and he had come to the conclusion he’d use every last inch of that mouth if he was given the chance. His resolve to act as if Sam was a butch chick flew out the window when he peered down for the sake of - well - just a second of eye contact. It wasn’t emotional bullshit, and it wasn’t like he liked Sam, he just thought the fact he had the boy on his knees was pretty badass. Eye contact was just another way of proving he was in charge here.
The careful, gentle movements with his fingers threaded through Sam’s hair were rapidly shifting to desperate jerks of his hand - the boy apparently liked to tease, and Puck was so over that shit.
“Celibacy Club skank much?” Puck dismissed, a smirk passing over his lips. His head rolled back against the lockers behind him, each roll of his hips getting him that much closer to a well-earned release. Better than a lot of girls he’d ever been with, but maybe that was just the desperation talking.
And that’s when he realized Sam was pretty much balls deep all of a sudden. His eyes flicked open again, a half-confused, entirely appreciative expression taking over his previous smugness. So apparently the dude could fit two balls in his mouth, and that’s really all Puck needed to know. Sam noted the look of appreciation with another roll of his tongue and flex of his throat.
It wasn’t much longer till Puck relented, his empathy extended to the boy who’s knees were probably dead and a jaw that’d be bitching by tomorrow. His fist tightened in Sam’s hair as he grunted a courteous warning. - he was a gentleman like that - and all he felt was Sam’s lips drive further down onto him.
What. The. Ever-Loving. Fuck. Sam had experience. Bitchin’, totally useful - and the boy swallowed.
Sam remained for a second regaining his breath, an eyebrow darting up his forward as a goofy half-smile crossed his features. “I’m guessing from the moaning and the name calling you’re a little gay dude. I mean seriously,” he breathed, pushing himself up and walking away to a locker - the one Puck had stashed his clothes in.
Puck enjoyed a brief moment of ecstasy before noticing Sam knew exactly where his clothes were. Wait. “...Wait, you knew where they were?”
“What’re you talking about?” Sam asked in a confused voice, his smirk suggesting otherwise.
“You’re still gonna be late for Math.” That was Puck’s triumph.
“Don’t have Math. I have a free period,” Sam grinned as he pulled on a sweatshirt and wandered contently out of the boys’ locker-room. Puck stared after him hella confused, his eyebrows furrowed together.
“Wait a fucking second…”