Glee fic; Easier to Lie, Puck/Sam, R
Title: Easier to Lie
Part: 1/1
Pairing: Puck/Sam
Rating/warnings: R for sexual content
Word Count: 900
Summary: Being alone comes with having secrets-secrets Sam's not ready to disclose, secrets that tear him up inside until he wishes someone would come along and scream them out to the world so he wouldn’t have to carry them any longer. Character studyish.
Sam doesn’t know how it happens, but he finds himself on his knees in the shower after school with Puck’s cock in his mouth. Okay, if he backtracks a little, he can sort of remember how it happened-it had something to do with Puck joining him in the shower after football practice, and then those weird looks Puck’s been giving him that make him feel uncomfortable in a nice way. And then Puck sliding over from the shower beside him to the one he’s actually in. And Puck’s hand on his hip. And his lips against his mouth.
And now Sam is giving him the world’s quickest blowjob because even though he’s pretty sure everyone else has already left, he’s not taking any chances. Water runs down his face from the showerhead, his bangs dripping into his eyes as he swirls his tongue over Puck’s cock, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks, one hand on Puck’s hip to hold him still, the other splayed against the cold tile of the wall.
Puck is making these really incredible noises that are only slightly muffled by the spray of water. Sam feels Puck’s fingers wrap around a few wet locks of his hair, tugging a little as Sam works, concentrating on keeping his teeth out of the equation. He doesn’t want Puck to think he’s completely inexperienced, even though Sam has a lot less practice under his belt than he’d like to admit.
He’d played football at his old school, too, and he can’t lie and say that he’s never thought about this particular scenario, but no one at his old school had been out and Sam wasn’t going to try and pick out any potentially gay boys on his team. He’d likely get a fist to the face and then his coach would have come up with some excuse about how his grades suck too much to be allowed to play any longer.
He likes McKinley so far. There’s the same unimaginative bullying, sure, but there are also footballers in the fucking Glee Club. And there’s Kurt, who’s so unlike anyone Sam has ever come in contact with in his entire life. He’s camp as hell, but fuck if he’s not jealous of the fact that Kurt isn’t ashamed to tell the entire world exactly who he is. Even if he gets a slushie in the face everyday, at least Kurt goes to bed knowing that he’s not a liar.
Puck tugs at his hair again and Sam reins his attention back into the locker room. He experiments with how deep he can get Puck in his mouth without gagging, and his eyes are watering from the effort when he hears a familiar change in Puck’s breathing-familiar not because he hears it from other guys, but because he does the same thing himself.
Sam pops off and lets his hand do the rest of the work, quickly jacking Puck the rest of the way until Puck lets out a groan and comes with a shiver. His spunk gets washed down the drain, and Sam suddenly feels awkward because he’s pretty sure Puck is just a curious straight guy.
“That mouth,” Puck remarks, and Sam looks up at him, biting his lip softly. Puck’s expression sobers a little as if he, too, has suddenly realized how strange this whole thing is. Sam clears his throat and stands, reaching for the shampoo.
“I gotta finish showering,” Sam says lightly, trying to keep the shake out of his voice. He gives Puck a smile and an easy way out, and Puck pauses before taking it. Puck’s halfway across the room, towel in hand, when Sam suddenly shuts off the water.
“Puck?” Sam calls, drawing in a quick breath to steady himself. “Can you… not tell anyone about-”
“I’m not gonna tell,” Puck says. Sam relaxes slightly. He can trust Puck, maybe at least for this, because it’s not just his reputation on the line here. He turns the water back on and lathers shampoo in his hair. When he glances behind him again, Puck is gone. Sam swallows, closing his eyes as he washes the suds away. It’s a little thrilling and a lot terrifying that someone knows his secret.
Any day this could all blow up in his face; any day Puck could force him to be honest. Honesty has never been a strong point for him. It’s so much easier to lie low, to be quiet and inoffensive. He’s not Kurt, who’s a good six inches shorter and sixty pounds smaller, but a hundred times stronger.
Sam shuts off the water and towels his hair, then scrubs at his face before wrapping the cloth around his waist and stepping out of the shower. He’s alone in the locker room as he changes; he’s always been alone in some way or another, even here when he’s just been made quarterback, the star of the team. Being alone comes with having secrets-secrets he’s not ready to disclose, secrets that tear him up inside until he wishes someone would come along and scream them out to the world so he wouldn’t have to carry them any longer.
He laces his sneakers and hefts his gym bag over his shoulder as he leaves, entertaining the thought, but not exactly allowing himself to hope, that one day Puck might break his word.
Part: 1/1
Pairing: Puck/Sam
Rating/warnings: R for sexual content
Word Count: 900
Summary: Being alone comes with having secrets-secrets Sam's not ready to disclose, secrets that tear him up inside until he wishes someone would come along and scream them out to the world so he wouldn’t have to carry them any longer. Character studyish.
Sam doesn’t know how it happens, but he finds himself on his knees in the shower after school with Puck’s cock in his mouth. Okay, if he backtracks a little, he can sort of remember how it happened-it had something to do with Puck joining him in the shower after football practice, and then those weird looks Puck’s been giving him that make him feel uncomfortable in a nice way. And then Puck sliding over from the shower beside him to the one he’s actually in. And Puck’s hand on his hip. And his lips against his mouth.
And now Sam is giving him the world’s quickest blowjob because even though he’s pretty sure everyone else has already left, he’s not taking any chances. Water runs down his face from the showerhead, his bangs dripping into his eyes as he swirls his tongue over Puck’s cock, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks, one hand on Puck’s hip to hold him still, the other splayed against the cold tile of the wall.
Puck is making these really incredible noises that are only slightly muffled by the spray of water. Sam feels Puck’s fingers wrap around a few wet locks of his hair, tugging a little as Sam works, concentrating on keeping his teeth out of the equation. He doesn’t want Puck to think he’s completely inexperienced, even though Sam has a lot less practice under his belt than he’d like to admit.
He’d played football at his old school, too, and he can’t lie and say that he’s never thought about this particular scenario, but no one at his old school had been out and Sam wasn’t going to try and pick out any potentially gay boys on his team. He’d likely get a fist to the face and then his coach would have come up with some excuse about how his grades suck too much to be allowed to play any longer.
He likes McKinley so far. There’s the same unimaginative bullying, sure, but there are also footballers in the fucking Glee Club. And there’s Kurt, who’s so unlike anyone Sam has ever come in contact with in his entire life. He’s camp as hell, but fuck if he’s not jealous of the fact that Kurt isn’t ashamed to tell the entire world exactly who he is. Even if he gets a slushie in the face everyday, at least Kurt goes to bed knowing that he’s not a liar.
Puck tugs at his hair again and Sam reins his attention back into the locker room. He experiments with how deep he can get Puck in his mouth without gagging, and his eyes are watering from the effort when he hears a familiar change in Puck’s breathing-familiar not because he hears it from other guys, but because he does the same thing himself.
Sam pops off and lets his hand do the rest of the work, quickly jacking Puck the rest of the way until Puck lets out a groan and comes with a shiver. His spunk gets washed down the drain, and Sam suddenly feels awkward because he’s pretty sure Puck is just a curious straight guy.
“That mouth,” Puck remarks, and Sam looks up at him, biting his lip softly. Puck’s expression sobers a little as if he, too, has suddenly realized how strange this whole thing is. Sam clears his throat and stands, reaching for the shampoo.
“I gotta finish showering,” Sam says lightly, trying to keep the shake out of his voice. He gives Puck a smile and an easy way out, and Puck pauses before taking it. Puck’s halfway across the room, towel in hand, when Sam suddenly shuts off the water.
“Puck?” Sam calls, drawing in a quick breath to steady himself. “Can you… not tell anyone about-”
“I’m not gonna tell,” Puck says. Sam relaxes slightly. He can trust Puck, maybe at least for this, because it’s not just his reputation on the line here. He turns the water back on and lathers shampoo in his hair. When he glances behind him again, Puck is gone. Sam swallows, closing his eyes as he washes the suds away. It’s a little thrilling and a lot terrifying that someone knows his secret.
Any day this could all blow up in his face; any day Puck could force him to be honest. Honesty has never been a strong point for him. It’s so much easier to lie low, to be quiet and inoffensive. He’s not Kurt, who’s a good six inches shorter and sixty pounds smaller, but a hundred times stronger.
Sam shuts off the water and towels his hair, then scrubs at his face before wrapping the cloth around his waist and stepping out of the shower. He’s alone in the locker room as he changes; he’s always been alone in some way or another, even here when he’s just been made quarterback, the star of the team. Being alone comes with having secrets-secrets he’s not ready to disclose, secrets that tear him up inside until he wishes someone would come along and scream them out to the world so he wouldn’t have to carry them any longer.
He laces his sneakers and hefts his gym bag over his shoulder as he leaves, entertaining the thought, but not exactly allowing himself to hope, that one day Puck might break his word.