Tip Top Tip (Part Three)
Title: Tip Top Tip (Part Three)
Pairing: Top!Finn/Bottom!Puck
Rating:NC-17
Word Count: 2, 469 words
Summary: Finn's sick of being the girl. He's convinced it's his time to shine.
Prompt: "honestly i don't even care what kink, whatever you'd like so long as finn tops. i just need more of this pairing in my life dammit!"
Part One. Part Two.
Finn pressed down against Puck once again as he dragged the other’s jeans off at a fast pace. Every single glare and mutter made it that much more amusing that he was all in charge and shit. After Puck began absently jerking himself off, Finn issued a loud tutting sound. That wasn’t how tonight was working, at-fucking-all. “That’s it, pinning your hands,” Finn announced as he used his much larger hand to pin Puck’s wrists to the bed. Puck’s slow realization that he actually couldn’t inch out of the grip was apparent across his face, something Finn wished he got on camera. Finn’s smirk only grew as the other hand dipped down the other’s front. He actually allowed some friction to be made, his fingertips tracing along the underside of Puck’s very obvious erection.
“You’re super caveman today,” Puck breathily complained, though his tone was far too playful to actually sound offended. His cheeks were still a red that Finn found completely awesome, and only helped increase his ego.
“And?” And fuck, it didn’t help other things either. He adjusted himself awkwardly on top of Puck, his hands stroking back down Puck’s front. His hand resumed its hold of his cock, a confidence shining through that Finn could legit be proud of. He smirked through his occasionally dopey features and licked at his lips. “You love it, I can tell. You’re all red and fucking desperate for this. It’s flattering.”
“Really don’t,” Puck panted, his hips awkwardly jerking at Finn’s touch, “stop being an ass…”
Finn released Puck’s wrists for the sake of shuffling between the lube and the condoms. He examined Puck once more before deciding tonight was definitely not the kind of night where a blowjob was needed. His hands trailed along the inside of Puck’s thighs before easily parting them. It was weird not to find the situation weird - if that made sense. Finn had learned how fucking satisfying it was to make use of Puck’s surprising flexibility and how not to question every little detail.
After a few reassuring strokes to Puck’s inner thighs, he shoved the boy over so he was on his hands and knees. Way fucking easier to handle, especially with what Finn was angling for. It didn’t take long for the lube to be put to good use, eagerly spread across all the necessary skin (and latex, because once Puck was stretched and ready, Finn was all fucking over this).
Only one finger at first, he resolved. While he wanted to get going, he didn’t need to injure his main source of sex in his eagerness. Finn shot the other a reassuring smile as he worked it past the first knuckle, then the second. It was no secret between them Finn was larger (in pretty much every possible way) so he always took extra care when it came to the start.
But later, when Puck was a begging mess? It was all fair game.
“Fuck, Finn,” Puck moaned into a pillow he’d dragged over, his arms flexing in a way that Finn couldn’t not watch.
“I haven’t even done anything,” Finn chuckled, kissing along the back of Puck’s neck. He took the other’s body gestures as a sign and began to work his finger at a faster pace, using watch.
“I haven’t even done anything,” Finn chuckled, kissing along the back of Puck’s neck. He took the other’s body gestures as a sign and began to work his finger at a faster pace, using his free hand to procure a little more lube; just enough to get things a little smoother, and a lot quicker. Then, after he could feel some give - just enough - he forced a second finger into Puck.
Finn kept enough mind to kiss stupid kisses along Puck’s spine and hip, just enough to distract him as he started stretching and scissoring his fingers. They hadn’t really done this for a while, at least not with Finn fucking Puck. Because that’s what it basically was. Sometimes - when they weren’t bored or horny - they actually had proper sex. Like the shit Finn saw in movies and always laughed at.
“Hurry the fuck up,” Puck demanded, his hips rocking back against the fingers with genuine desperation.
Finn gave a laboured roll to his eyes, nudging Puck’s legs further apart (so they were either side of Finn’s knees). But he kept his hand moving, kept stretching and scissoring before finally angling a few gentle nudges against what he’d quickly learned was the prostate. He’d been lectured like an idiot about it for ages by Puck once he’d been caught out for lying.
The sounds he was making now definitely made up for all the yelling and the lies and the crap from the past. That’s all Finn could think as he withdrew his hand from Puck. Although he’d only made it to barely three fingers, he knew Puck liked it a little more - painful? If that was even what it was? Finn didn’t question it. He liked it too, for whatever reason. With a deep, resolute breath (and subsequent moan) Finn gently pushed into the other boy and tried his fucking hardest not to just go for the in-out-done approach that seemed fucking tempting.
With a hand on Puck’s shoulder blades, he pressed him down further (his hand not missing the flexing Puck was doing - as if that would impress Finn). “How’s this?”
Puck mumbled something unintelligible, but Finn knew what he was saying. Regardless, Finn prompted him again as he slid a little further into Puck before withdrawing slightly. “Hmm?”
“Don’t. Stop teasing,” Puck groaned. He’d managed to push himself back against Finn as he glanced angrily over his shoulder.
“And?”
Puck looked livid, finger clawing at the sheets as he tried his hardest not to start yelling at the other. “Can you just fuck me? For the love of fucking - just - fuck.”
Finn got it, especially ‘cause he’d taken the liberty of thrusting as far as he felt necessary back into Puck. He felt another smirk crack across his features, one hand on the other’s hip while the other remained on his shoulder. It (surprisingly) only took three or four thrusts and Puck was shaking and moaning louder than he had been before. And then he was spent.
“Done already?” Finn purred playfully in Puck’s ear, the hand on his shoulder sliding around to fidget with the other’s nipple ring. If he didn’t want it played with, he wouldn’t have gotten it pieced - it was like basic math or something.
“Shut the fuck up,” Puck snapped, his body quaking from the aftermath of a long, drawn out orgasm he hadn’t really seen coming. It was like Finn said - the longer you prolonged it, the bigger the release. It took him by surprise that Finn kept thrusting, a slower, shallower pace than the initial thrusts. Puck cast a look over his shoulder as if to ask ‘what the fuck’.
Finn’s head was tilted to the side, meeting Puck’s eye momentarily before his eyelids slid shut. A goofy grin crossed his features as he kept up a slower pace. After a very short while, he felt Puck returning the thrusts with growing eagerness.
If there was anything he learned bottoming on a semi-regular basis, it was that you came around pretty fucking fast if you just worked through it. And again, Finn was on top, the head honcho and whatever other crap Puck called himself when he topped. Though, with all this behind crap, he couldn’t kiss the other boy and his moans and lips were way too hot to be away from like this.
“You like this babe? How about if I roll my hips a little more like…” Finn experimentally thrust downwards, the grip tightening on Puck’s own hips to keep the angle working for the both of them. Finn totally owned this shit tonight, and he could tell. Puck kept letting out stupidly adorable little whines and moans and it was only getting worse with time.
Puck had pulled a lot of the sheets from the bed, the mess looking pretty sexy all around Puck. Especially because he was writhing all over the awesome cowboy sheets he’d gotten for Christmas - from Puck. “Fuck, yes…”
“You look really hot right now,” Finn breathed, his hand swatting away his now-floppy hair. “How d’you want it?”
“Just keep going…” Puck lamely encouraged.
“I could stop…” Finn replied as his hips slowly noticeably. He waited for either a complaint or an idea from the other, as if that would change everything.
“No! Fuck off, don’t fucking pull that on me,” Puck protested through a few angry groans. As Finn chuckled against the back of his neck, Puck blindly punched at his shoulder, “Finn, harder - just don’t stop, asshat…” he progressively chewed out, his eyes firmly shut tight.
“I can work with that. Headboard?” Finn grunted, his teeth clenched as he tried to adjust to the sound of his now hoarse voice. He withdrew from Puck and slumped easily against the headboard, his arms open wide to Puck. The other spared no time in jumping across Finn’s lap, kissing the other eagerly. Finn took it upon himself to inch the other back onto his cock, his own desperation growing with each dirty little look and moan.
“This is why I fucking love you,” Puck mumbled into Finn’s collarbone as he set to work placing hickeys across the pale flesh.
“I can’t even - fuck - skin hitting skin is a fucking hot sound, okay? Okay.” All the time Finn had spent playing cutesy bottom had totally made him forget how fucking much he liked being in charge. How he enjoyed controlling, and knowing he was the reason his best friend was currently a breathy, sweaty whore all over him. It was a lot hotter than he could admit to himself, but his hands knew exactly what they were doing, and what the other liked.
After he’d established a pace, he couldn’t help but let his hands roam across the other’s abs, chest, arms, everywhere that’d been previously too far away to appreciate. He smirked his own special smirk as Puck finally managed to make eye contact with him and mumble a few words. Although it was a string of curse words he couldn’t quite understand he knew what the other meant, and it was kinda sweet.
“Hold on a minute, okay?” Finn mumbled, kissing along Puck’s throat as he wrapped his arms tightly around him.
“Mhh.”
He took it as enough of an indication that Puck was alright with being moved, so he just - flipped them, if Finn could be honest. He pushed Puck up against the headboard and set the other’s hands along the frame and gave him the longest stare he could manage in his current state. He wasn’t known for his stamina, but he was trying, trying his freakin’ hardest because he wanted to make Puck proud of him, and make him happy, and that’s all that mattered.
Especially now.
“Just - stay like this. Don’t move.” Finn was a dark red, his eyes still locked with Puck’s. There was an assumed agreement between them as Finn arched closer to Puck. Their lips mashed and twitched together like nothing Finn had felt before, and all he knew was that he needed to start moving again. Puck was making it too hard not to.
“Finn, please?” Puck said genuinely. It was clear, he was worn down to a base level where he just gave the fuck up and admitted he needed it - and not even with the bravado he faked on a regular basis. He was being the same person Finn had known for years, and he could see a familiar sweetness and it was all too fucking much. Really. This is why it was so easy to believe the lie that Puck had told him when he first said he loved him - because he loved him now.
When Finn hadn’t started moving (looking totally lost in thought, he could tell), Puck bent closer to the other’s ear and whispered a few dirty, desperate things in his ear. All teeth, lips, hands and Finn wasn’t really in his body anymore. All he knew was the hard, confident thrusts that were suddenly all he could feel and the way Puck suddenly seemed to break in his arms. Break in a hot, I’m coming, kind of way… Not actually broken.
And that was all Finn needed - his teeth were grit, his eyes were clenched shut and his cock felt like it was on fire but this is exactly what he’d wanted and had been thinking about since Spanish earlier that day.
Once he knew he could move without something falling off, he smiled and very carefully drew out of the other boy. He ignored the spread of Puck’s own release across his (and Puck’s) stomachs and kissed him as tenderly as he thought appropriate. His eyes locked onto Puck’s as he examined the other’s face and he wasn’t sure what the other was thinking, but he’d fucking kill to know.
But he just smirked, laughed it off and called Puck a fucking girl for trying to cuddle him. It was playful; they both knew Finn loved to cuddle more than he loved breathing, especially after sex. “…So I’m totally feeling up for another round,” Finn paused, “you’re getting on top of me this time though.”
“U-huh,” Puck sighed, laying across the bed in a awkward, lazy fashion. His ass had long red marks across it that Finn couldn’t even remember making.
“Fuck things are super sensitive… sorry for like clawing your ass?” Finn laughed, his arms strewn across the bed next to him. After a few moments of amused silence, Finn softly spoke up. “Y’know what day it is?”
“Uh… Wednesday. So what?” Puck replied sleepily.
“Well Wednesday night is the night we usually make love…” Finn sung in a soft, low voice before crawling over Puck.
“Shut up Finn.” He was amused by it. They both knew it.
“And you know when I’m down to just my socks, it’s business time…” Finn continued to sing before dragging Puck into a purposeful kiss, his eyes tightly locked shut as he appreciated everything that came with it. The scent, the feeling of accomplishment, and the knowledge he could not knock up Puck. It was all bundled up in a fucking awesome package that was his best friend - boyfriend - whatever.
“Seriously, where did the caveman thing come from?” Puck questioned, a small amused sigh breaking through his usual cocky smirk.
“I’m about to throw you against a wall, and I think you like it.”
“Maybe. First, you owe me a burrito.”
Finn thought that, even if this wasn’t true, proper, movie-quality love, it might be something even better.