Fic: Slippery When Wet

[tawg]

Title: Slippery When Wet
Rating: M for sexual references, because most of the characters are teens, and therefore hornbags.
Characters: Finn, Will, Glee club, and even some members of the faculty.
Word count: 4,800
Summary: Will volunteers to be bait at a dunking booth FOR SOME REASON. Perving ensues. Also some wistful gazing. And then things explode.
Notes: Happens in the same little universe as Fund-Razor. Also, in researching this fic, I learned that dunking hair washes are apparently fetish-material.


The McKinley High Fun Fair was usually a mix of joy and horror. Joy for the cool kids with good aim, and horror for the well-intentioned students who had the misfortune to volunteer to help with running any games that involved objects being thrown at high velocity. Now seasoned with a sixth sense for situations that would end in pain, humiliation, and a liberal application of food stuffs, the members of the Glee club had decided as a whole to decline from any kind of active participation in the running of the fair.

No helping at stalls. No helping behind the scenes. And, considering there would be toffee apples for sale and the baseball team present, definitely no public singing.

Which had left William Schuester in a bit of a bind. “How can you keep asking the school to support the black hole of funding that is Glee club, when the club won’t show school pride and support in return?” Figgins had asked him.

“I’ll act as their representative,” Will had replied. “Whatever needs doing.”

And so, through a series of events that Sue Sylvester had no part in whatsoever, he ended up as bait for the dunk tank.

“Are you sure this is wise?” Rachel had asked. “This is October.”

“October in Ohio,” Mercedes added.

“It’ll be fine,” Will had assured them. “It should be a warm day, and I’ll bring a change of clothes. Besides, we get half of the money raised, and we’re going to need it to fund our way through this year.”

Later, Puck had shaken his head with a snort. “The only way he’ll be safe from frostbite is if no one actually manages to hit the target.”

Kurt had perked up, a light bulb shining brightly above his head. “That’s it! You’re brilliant, though I’ll deny it later. All we need to do is ensure that for the hour he’s signed up, no one with any skill or sense of athletic ability gets close enough to the booth.”

Puck grinned. “You want me to set fire to the booth?”

“No,” Mercedes said. “Definitely no. In fact, you’re going to have to empty your pockets out on the day.”

“Far more simple with that,” Kurt said. “We just stack the crowd with people who can’t throw.”

Finn snorted. “Right. And where are we going to that many unco people?”

Kurt raised an impeccable eyebrow at him, and Puck slapped Finn on the arm. “Dude, that’s a dumb question even for you.”

So, there was a plan. A daring and gallant plan to save Mr Schue from frostbite and possibly also the onset of consumption. And, to be honest, ever since that maybe kind of moment in the choir room, where Finn had saved his teacher from ending up looking like a shaved poodle (and then came in his pants, like, multiple times thinking about how easy it would have been to put his face close to Mr Schue’s and just lean in and-) there had been this weird proud protective streak in Finn that felt a need to come out every now and then. So Finn liked this plan. A plan of stealth, and timing, and many dollar bills clutched in hands as the Glee club lined up, nice and orderly, for the dunking booth.

And then Coach Sylvester walked straight past the line, sunglasses and her game face on, and slapped a wad of bills down on the counter.

“Three hundred dollars,” she said.

Figgins raised an eyebrow. “Sue, it’s only a dollar a ball.”

“I know.”

“And Schue has only volunteered for an hour of dunking.”

“I know,” Sue repeated around a mouthful of gum. “That’s five balls a minute, assuming he can climb out of the water once it starts dissolving his hair product and becomes thickened with grease and wax. Assuming that is product, and not the natural oils secreted by the body in an attempt to suffocate and then preserve it in an effort to better the human race by removing that individual from the gene pool.”

Figgins sighed. “Just try not to break the dunker. We just got the leak fixed after last year.”

The Glee kids crowded to one side of the tank, watching as Will took off his shoes and emptied his pockets.

“You know that she’s going to drown you, right?” Artie said.

Will rolled his eyes. “The tank’s not that deep.”

“That won’t stop her,” Santana said. “She’s been talking all week about holding you under until you stop thrashing.”

Will paused for a moment. “I’m sure she was just getting into the spirit,” he said, before putting both hands on the side of the tank and pulling himself up. The kids watched as he walked along the rim of the tank to sit on the board.

“He’s going to die, isn’t he?” Tina said.

“You’re all being melodramatic,” Rachel said. “I’m sure Mr Schue is perfectly capable of handling a little water.”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “Look, he’s taller than the tank. And it’s only an hour. I mean, how many times can you be dunked in an hour?”

As it turned out, a lot.

Will took it all in his stride, a wide grin on his face that only seemed to infuriate Sue more and more. “Are you sure you don’t want me to just stay in the tank?” he asked her after about the tenth dunk. “It’d be a lot easier for both of us.”

“That’s right,” Sue sneered. “Just give up, like you do with everything else in your life. You know, when puppies roll over onto their backs, it’s interpreted as being a sign of trust, a peace offering. It’s also how embowelings happen. Now,” she gestured calmly with the foam ball, “get back up on the board.”

Will dutifully hauled himself out of the water tank, his white shirt sticking to his shoulders, and climbed back into place. “Hey Sue,” he called, and when she looked up at him he ran a hand through his wet hair, and flicked the water at her. Sue let out a howl of rage.

“That is disgusting,” she raged, and threw the foam ball directly at Will.

“Sue,” Figgins reprimanded. “That is not even close to the target.”

Will caught it easily and laughed, throwing it up in the air and catching it again. “Looks like you’ve lost your ball,” he called.

“You think I’m foolish enough to rely on public school property alone?” Sue called back. “I’ve got more balls then you can handle.”

“Sue,” Will called back, “you can talk balls all you want, but are you ever going to use them? I’m starting to dry off here.”

Quinn frowned. “He should know by now not to stir Coach Sylvester up. Nothing good ever comes from it.”

Miss Pillsbury smiled, and waved a hand vaguely. “Oh, they’re always like this. Except, you know, Sue usually has slightly fewer projectiles and Will is... um, not as wet. Um.” She trailed off as Will spotted her, and waved. Emma wiggled her fingers back, and Sue took advantage of this momentary distraction to dunk Will yet again.

“I thought you two had broken up,” Santana said, looking at Emma out of the corner of her eye.

“What? Oh, no, Mr Schuester and I are just friends. And, you know, friends like to support each other in their times of need. And I always do my best to support Glee club, too, you. Because it’s such a great opportunity for you kids.”

“Right,” Quinn said. “So you being here has nothing to do with the fact that Mr Schue is essentially putting on a one-man wet-t-shirt competition?”

Emma coloured slightly. “You know, I’m just going to go and talk to Principal Figgins now,” she said, moving away.

“Enjoy the view,” Santana called after her, and Emma sped up just a little.

By the end of the hour, Sue had a sore arm and a look of disappointment on her face - “Next year, I’m bringing primed piranhas, and a dead cow to get their hopes up.” - and Will was feeling cold and waterlogged. He climbed out of the tank for the last time, and flicked as much water as he could off his arms, before shaking his hair out like a dog, making Tina giggle.

“See?” he said, taking his change of clothes from Figgins. “That wasn’t so bad.” And the Sue walked past, and smacked him under the hands, sending his dry clothes into the water tank.

“Fetch,” she said with a smile, and strode off.

Will closed his eyes for a moment, counting backwards from ten, before hauling himself over the side of the tank again and fetching his sodden change of clothes.

“You really should have known better,” Quinn said as he dropped down to the damp grass, and did his best to wring his spare jeans and shirt out.

“I know,” Will replied. “I just keep forgetting that she’s-”

“Evil?” Artie suggested.

“A destroyer of souls?”

“Out for your blood?”

Will smiled at his kids. “I was going to say that she’s Sue and leave it at that.” He looked down at himself, still trailing water as he moved. “I think drowned people have been less wet than me,” he said as Emma offered him a plastic bag for his wet clothes.

Mercedes grinned. “There are oceans with less water than you.”

“We should send you to Australia,” Tina suggested, “as a form of drought relief.”

And then Will stripped off the t-shirt that he was wearing, and started to wring it out, and everyone forgot what they were going to say.

“Wow,” Tina breathed. Finn, standing next to her, swallowed thickly in agreement.

Everyone knew that Mr Schue was fit. He didn’t have the gut that so many teachers developed after a few years of marking essays and eating biscuits. And he was able to bust some fine moves when the occasion called for it. And he could lead them through an hour of rehearsal without getting out of breath. But this...

From the mussed hair, wet but slowly drying into his natural curls, down the planes of his face and the long smooth line of his neck. From his muscled shoulders down his defined arms, across a chest that seemed to have the perfect balance of smooth skin and light chest hair, and down the stomach that was flat and toned and looked good enough to bite into. Right down to his tight hips, the very top of his boxers showing as his blue jeans were pulled low from the weight of the water they held. His hips had those lines of definition where the curve of the bone was continued by the hard muscle of the stomach, creating creases that pointed down down down, a path that the eyes just couldn’t avoid.

All of this, dripping with water, and shining slightly in the weak, autumn sunlight.

Kurt took a shuddering breath. “Yep,” he said softly. “Definitely gay.”

“I thought we’d already established that?” Mercedes asked.

“Always good to double check,” Kurt replied, pulling his iphone out to surreptitiously take a photo.

Mercedes gave him a look. “You going to check before bed tonight?”

“And again in the morning,” Kurt replied.

“You know,” Rachel said, breaking the silence around Will, “you’d probably dry off faster if you left your shirt off.”

Will looked up at her. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” Kurt replied quickly. “The shirt is just going to trap any water that’s evaporating off of your... your...”

“Body,” Mercedes supplied. “It’s simple physics.”

“Plus,” Tina added. “You’ll probably get really cold if you wear wet clothes all day.”

“Right,” Rachel said, picking up the thread again. “And we really can’t afford you getting sick this year.”

“That’s right,” Emma added. “Not just because your illness will impact on your effectiveness as a teacher, but also due to the probability of you acting as an incubator for bacteria and viruses, and then passing them on to the rest of the team.”

Kurt licked his dry lips. “Body,” he finally sighed.

“You really think so?” Will asked, looking worried.

“Defiantly,” Quinn replied. “Keeping your clothing to a minimum and drying off as quickly as possible is the responsible thing to do.”

Brittany turned to Santana and whispered, “Does that mean that when we take our tops off at the pool, we’re being responsible?”

Will looked back and forth between Quinn and Brittany, and the first signs of scepticism showed on his face.

“I’m going to go and put my clothes in my car,” he said at last, and headed off across the school oval.

“I’ll just, um,” Emma waved her hands vaguely in Will’s direction. “I have things to do, too,” she finally managed, and headed off in not quite the same direction, before shaking her head and veering off in a direction that definitely wasn’t the one Will had taken.

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you think the probability is of him having a spare shirt in his car?”

“Minimal,” Rachel replied. “He certainly didn’t keep spare clothes on the backseat when I was in his car.”

Kurt grabbed on to Rachel’s arm with frightening intensity. “You’ve been in the backseat of his car? For once, you have to tell me everything.”

“Can you believe this?” Puck asked, looking at the crowd of girls. “All of them fawning and sighing, just because some guy took off his shirt. I mean, they usually do that when I take off my shirt, but that’s because I’m a stud.”

“Right,” Finn said, still tracking Will as he crossed the field.

“It’s painful, man, that all of these fine women are so starved for manly attention that they’d fawn over Mr Schue of all people.”

“Haven’t you dated all of them?”

Puck looked at the group thoughtfully. “Not Tina,” he said at last. “And not Hummel either, since he’s not exactly a girl. That’s what I mean though. They’ve clearly had better.”

Finn shrugged. “Maybe you broke them,” he suggested.

“You mean, like, I’m so awesome that my raw sexualness drives them so mad with lust that they’ll want anyone?”

“No,” Finn replied. “I meant that maybe you’re just not as good as you think.” He patted Puck on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” and he headed off across the field after Will, stopping to grab his shoes and wallet from Principal Figgins.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked as he jogged over to Will.

Will stood by his car, frowning at it. He had his wet shirt slung over one shoulder, and his skin looked tight from the cold. “I don’t have anything dry to wear,” he said, looking up at Finn.

“You can have my jacket,” Finn offered. “That’s dry. And you’ve got keys to get into the school right? Maybe we can dry your pants out in a bathroom.”

Will looked at Finn for a long moment with an amused smile on his face. “It’d be a lot easier for me to go home and change.”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “I know. But if you go home to change you’ll probably think ‘Oh, I should have a shower while I’m here to warm up’, and then you’ll probably grab something to eat, and then it’ll be getting dark outside and you won’t come back at all.”

“On the other hand, I’ll be warm and dry and fed,” Will pointed out, that amused look still on his face.

“Well, sure. But,” Finn scrambled for a reason to keep his teacher around. “But what about us? Who’s going to hand out detentions if Rachel or Kurt get food thrown at them? Or any of us?”

Will looked like he was trying to repress a smile. “Maybe they’ll just have to take one for the team.”

“And maybe,” Finn countered, “if you’d headed inside when I suggested it, you’d be dry by now.”

Will’s mouth finally betrayed him, and he smiled at Finn.

Normally Finn loved that smile, the pleased, affectionate look. But as it turned out, when Will was shirtless, that smile did weird things to Finn’s insides. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Will replied. “Just thinking that you’d make a great mom someday.”

“Thanks, I- hey! I’m not a mom!”

“Don’t worry,” Will said as he slung his wet clothes into his car, “I can keep your secret.”

Finn trailed after Will as he walked up the steps to the main building of the school. “I’m seriously not a mom,” he said as he watched Will unlock a door and step inside.

“Whatever you say, mom,” Will replied easily as Finn followed and he locked the door behind them.

Finn took up a guard station outside the nearest boys’ bathroom, on the off chance that someone would happen by in the locked, deserted building, and need to use this very particular bathroom. “If I were a mom,” Finn called through the closed door, and over the sound of the hand dryers blaring, “I’d be in there drying your pants for you.”

“You’re supervising while I clean up my own mess,” Will called back. “That’s definitely mom-ish.”

Finn frowned. He was a little worried that he was losing this argument. He really didn’t want his incredibly cool teacher, who he had more than a little crush on, to think he was lame and mom-ish. He tried to think of some cool and witty retort, but he kept being distracted by the sound of the hand dryers. Will was in there right now, trying to dry his jeans under the hot air. Standing there, slightly damp, in bare feet and cotton boxers. Or had he taken those off to dry too?

Will Schuester, Spanish teacher and object of more student crushes than the rest of the faculty combined, was standing just a few feet away, potentially naked.

Part of Finn wanted nothing more than to tear the door open and see, to offer some flimsy premise of help and find any excuse to stand as close to that bare skin and sweet smile as possible. But the rest of him, that smaller part that somehow always got the deciding vote in his actions whispered ‘then what?’. And it stumped Finn every time.

Just as Finn was finally building up the nerve to say ‘to hell with it’ and open the door anyway, the decision was taken out of his hand. Will pulled the door open and stuck his head out, making Finn jump.

“Is the coast clear?”

Finn gave Will as wide grin. “No one has ever guarded a doorway better.”

“Great. Thanks mom,” Will said as he stepped out into the corridor.

Finn wasn’t great with his feet, so he hadn’t exactly moved, which meant that he and Will were standing chest to oh fucking god completely naked chest, and Finn’s chin was tipped low and he was staring into Will’s eyes, and Will was staring back and fuck, had they always been this green? Finn’s gaze dropped involuntarily to his teacher’s lips, and he had to bite back a moan when he saw the clean shapes of white teeth worrying at that bottom lip.

“Jeeze,” Will said, making Finn start and step back. “It’s freezing out here.”

Finn made a show of cuddling into his letterman jacket. “Really?” he asked innocently, trying so very hard to play up innocent and not jump his Spanish teacher in a hallway. “If anything I’m feeling nice and toasty.” Hot under the collar indeed.

Will shot him a very unimpressed look, making Finn laugh. “Fine,” he said as he shrugged out of his jacket. He pulled it away from Will’s reaching hands at the last moment, struggling to find something smart to say, something the make the moment normal again. “But no more mom jokes.”

“Deal,” Will replied, and practically dived at the jacket. “Mm,” he said as he sank into its warmth. He cracked an eye open and peer at Finn. “Now I feel guilty for stealing your jacket.”

“Don’t.” Finn said with a wave of his hand. “I don’t get cold easily anyway. My mom jokes that my father used to be the human torch.”

Will settled the jacket around his shoulders more thoroughly, and began buttoning it up. It fit him surprisingly well - a little too big around the shoulders, but those jackets were too big on everyone’s shoulders. A little long in the arms, a little baggy around the middle. But it mostly fit. And while Finn was a little disappointed to see the flesh of his teacher’s stomach covered up, there was a spike of satisfaction in him somewhere that it was his jacket doing the covering.

“Looking good, Mr Schue,” Finn said at last.

“This is quite an experience,” Will said, burying his hands deep in the pockets. “I never got one of these when I was in high school.”

“I suppose glee isn’t exactly a letterman sport,” Finn replied as they walked towards the door.

“Maybe if we win regional’s this year, I’ll be able to swing something for the club with Figgins.”

Finn gave Will a sceptical look out of the corner of his eye. “You just want one for yourself,” he said at last.

“I really do,” Will replied. “These are great. Though I do feel the urge to knock someone into their locker.”

Finn looked down at Will with a haughty look. “I’d like to see you try.”

Finn stepped through the wide front door of the school, and turned back to watch as Will locked it again behind them. He was no longer soaking wet, but his jeans were still damp, and his hair was turning into a mess of curls. It was a good look on him, Finn reflected. So very different from the nice and neat teacher he played every day. Will turned around and caught him looking.

“Yes?” he asked, one eyebrow raising a little.

“Um,” Finn said. “Here,” and he thrust Will’s shoes and wallet out.

Will stuffed his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, and held his shoes in one hand, waiting until his feet were properly dry to put them on. “Thanks,” he said. “I suppose we should go and get back to the others,” he said. “Since the whole reason I’m sticking around is for their protection, and all.”

“Yeah,” Finn said weakly, walking at Will’s side. “You’re a regular knight, and stuff.”

As much as Finn wanted to find some excuse to distract Will, to keep him all to himself for a moment longer, they soon found themselves back with the other glee members, watching Puck and Brittany battle it out at a coconut booth. They seemed to be doing equally badly.

“Yeah, well,” Puck was saying, “I’m resting my arm up. Before the season starts.”

“Of course you are,” Rachel said kindly.

“It’s very sensible,” Quinn added drily.

“I mean,” Santana concluded, “you wouldn’t want to suck during the season as much as you do now.”

Brittany looked over with a frown on her face. “I thought you said that the football team blows?”

“Really?” Puck asked, leering at Santana. “Because I have it on good authority that you blow the football team.” And then Quinn had her hand on the small of Puck’s back, and worked that eerie magic of hers that left men whimpering and trying to hide their man-pain.

“Be nice,” Will tutted as he walked up to the group. “Both of you.”

Kurt turned and took one very long, very careful look at Will. There was an appraising quality to it that made Finn prickle a little, until he reminded himself that Kurt examined everyone with such scrutiny. Especially if they were wearing flannel or designer knock-offs. “You’ve got a letterman jacket, you’ve lost your shirt, and you’re carrying your shoes. Mr Schue, you look like a Cheerio halfway through a school dance.”

“Yeah, and you disappeared into the parking lot with the QB for a quarter of an hour,” Mercedes added. “Well done.”

Will raised an eyebrow at his students, and couldn’t help smiling. “Is this how you keep yourselves entertained?”

Tina nodded happily. “Pretty much.”

“Come on,” Finn said. “We should go stake out a good spot to watch the fireworks.”

Rachel gave Finn a confused look. “We’ve got over an hour before sunset,” she replied.

“You're right,” Puck said. “The bleachers are probably filling up as we speak. Man, if I have to stand up to watch shit explode, I’m gonna be so pissed.”

So they staked out a spot, sprawling in a little knot across three bleachers, little parties of two or three sent out to fetch cold drinks and hot food. Waving to friends, and straggling members returning to the group with various prizes and stories. Mike and Matt, as it turned out, were demons at any game of skill in which the prize was a giant toy with painfully vivid fur. These toys were eventually commandeered as pillows by the less scrupulous members of the group.

Will was slouched on the steps next to his kids, clearly aware that being seen actively hanging around with his students wouldn’t be the best thing for their social standing, but at the same time delighting in their banter, watching the way people who had ignored each other in the halls only months earlier now bounced jokes off one another, quoted youtube videos, and took photos of each other on their phones, threatening to make macros out of the captured moments.

Dusk fell, and the marching band played the theme to Star Wars as the last preparations were made. Finn was sitting closest to Will, and as the evening chill settled he noticed the way he hunkered down into the letterman jacket, the stiffness as he shifted on the concrete steps. Finn edged closer, until his thigh was by Will’s shoulder, sharing his own bubble of body heat. It was completely dark, the lights in the stadium extinguished to make the flares and sparks of the fireworks seem brighter, and Finn stopped breathing when Will slumped against him, resting his cheek against Finn’s thigh.

There was a pop, and then a fizzing whistle before the sky above them exploded into blues, and reds, and silvers. Nothing elegant or complicated, just explosions of colour that still made the audience ooh and ahh. At the first firework, Finn found the courage to place a hand on Will’s shoulder. By the time the sky was lit with the falling stars of several explosions, his hand had slid to the back of Will’s neck where it was a warm weight against cool, dry skin. The bangs of three fireworks exploding above them concurrently made Finn jump, and when the tips of his fingers brushed against soft hair, Finn couldn’t find any reason to stop himself. He slid his fingers through tousled curls, swallowing thickly as his fingers combed through thicker hair, as his fingernails scraped absent patterns over Will’s scalp. Will pressed his cheek more firmly against Finn’s thigh, and Finn wondered if that counted as a nuzzle. The last firework exploded with a bang, and the crackle of falling sparks, and in the smokey silence that followed Finn somehow managed to hear Will sigh.

And then the lights in the stadium flickered on, and people in the audience started stretching, beginning the debate to race to the car park or wait until the crowd died down. Finn pulled his hand away, and not knowing what else to do with it, sat on it. Will tilted his head back, back and back, the skin of his throat taut and pale and inviting beyond the line of his jaw as he looked up at Finn with an odd expression on his face. Amused, bemused. Perhaps cautious as well.

Things were changing, Finn realised. So many signs that he missed along the highway. A birthday passing. A wedding ring no longer worn. A class dropped because, in all honesty, Finn wasn’t really that good at Spanish. In Finn’s eyes, the road was smoothing out - the bends and obstacles becoming less. He had no idea what Will saw when he looked at Finn, what was happening behind those green eyes that Finn liked so much. But he’d find out, eventually.

Next time he had Will alone - and preferably pantsless - Finn wouldn’t hesitate.

Well, only to enjoy the view.

Probably.