Fic: Kiss the changes that shape my life (Finn/Puck, Glee)
Title: Kiss the changes that shape my life
Pairing: Finn/Puck
Rating: PG13
Word Count: ~2500
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me
Summary: Finn wasn’t expecting anything for his birthday, but when Puck comes over, he brings a surprise with him. Pre-Glee.
A/N: A tonne of thanks to redandglenda and mintyfiend for betaing. All remaining mistakes are mine. I’m trying out a Finn POV, and concrit is always welcomed. Title belongs to INXS.
Birthdays have never been a big deal for Finn. Mostly he spends them wishing his father could be there to see him grow up instead of dead from some war Finn doesn’t really understand and probably never will. There’s never been a lot of money to go around either, and sure, he got presents but it was never anything big. His mom had tried her hardest to throw him decent parties until he’d told her, aged nine, that he didn’t need all of that.
These days he doesn’t get much at all. His mom spends enough money on him, what with all the stuff he needs for school and his sports equipment and the occasional Xbox game. And it’s cool- he figures he doesn’t really need much anyway so he doesn’t ask for anything, even when she prompts him.
Still. This year is his sweet sixteenth and even though there’s not going to be a party, even though he’s not going to get a car like most of his friends got for their birthdays, he wants it to be special.
The day before his birthday, Finn’s mom comes home full of apologies because she can’t find anyone to cover her shift at work the following day which means she won’t be home until late- too late to celebrate. Finn hugs her and tells her it’s cool, that he doesn’t mind, but it’s a lie and there’s a stab of disappointment inside him, mingled with the same hurt and anger at his father for leaving them. He pushes it down and grins when she says they’ll celebrate at the weekend, that they’ll go for burgers or Chinese or whatever he wants to do.
His birthday always falls during Spring Break and as much as he’s popular and everyone seems to like him, he doesn’t have many people he can call up to hang out with. And not many people he’d actually want to spend his birthday with, and that’s fine. He’s got Puck, who’s been his best friend for as long as he can remember. Sure, sometimes Puck is a douche, but Finn can be too, so generally their friendship works out okay, and Finn knows Puck has his back, no matter what.
He calls Puck and invites him round the following evening. His mom, in a fit of guilt had pressed a crisp twenty into his palm and told him to order something nice for dinner, to enjoy himself. He tells Puck this and Puck laughs and says okay and hangs up.
Finn’s not even sure Puck understands why Finn wants to hang out on that particular day. Puck doesn’t do that sort of stuff. He’s not into the small things- doesn’t think about them, doesn’t worry about them, doesn’t remember them. So the idea of him remembering Finn’s birthday, when Finn’s barely mentioned it, seem slim.
So when he turns up on Finn’s doorstep, hiding a six pack of beer in his rucksack, and with a handful of DVDs and a sleeping bag, Finn gives him a surprised look.
“I figured ages ago we’d be hanging out today,” Puck explains when Finn frowns at him, and that’s all he says. He dumps his sleeping bag in Finn’s room and heads straight to the drawer in the kitchen where they keep the take out menus.
They argue about what to get, and it’s Puck who finally concedes, which makes Finn ask if that’s his birthday present- a cooperative Puck for a change.
Puck raises an eyebrow at Finn. “It can be if you want,” he says, and Finn’s about to grin and agree until it hits him that maybe it isn’t his present, maybe Puck actually got him something.
They don’t get each other presents. Or cards, because Puck says that’s too homo for words. But it is an important birthday after all and it’s possible that Finn’s already trying to think what to get Puck when he turns 16 in just over a month.
“Nah,” Finn says. “I think I’ll hold out for something better.” He’s joking, mostly, but Puck smirks, which is intriguing, like he’s already got something in mind. It makes Finn excited because no matter your age, everyone gets a thrill of excitement at a potential birthday present and he wonders what else Puck has hiding in his rucksack. Knowing Puck it’s probably an issue of Playboy or something. Which Finn thinks would actually be an awesome present.
But all Puck has in his rucksack, besides clothes and DVDs and beer is a couple of slices of cake (“My mom made me bring it, okay?” Puck says defensively when Finn’s smile threatens to engulf his whole face because he loves cake, especially cake he can eat on his birthday).
Finn’s about to stumble over words of thanks, because he’s more grateful than he thought that Puck is here, helping him celebrate his birthday, when the doorbell interrupts though and Puck jumps to his feet.
“Thank fuck,” he says emphatically, grabbing the twenty off the table. “I thought you were going to start acting like a girl,” he adds as he heads for the front door.
He’s gone for a few minutes, and Finn squashes down his gratitude. They have a rule- no apologies, no thank yous- and while Finn suspects Dr Phil would gently tell them they’re being emotionally stunted (it’s Spring Break, okay? There’s not much to do but watch daytime TV) it mostly works out for them.
Puck returns, sending ahead of him the sweet scent of melted cheese and tomato sauce that makes Finn’s stomach rumble loudly.
Finn puts on a DVD and they sit and eat, talking over the talky moments and expressing appropriate exclamations of ‘wow’ and ‘awesome’ when shit is blowing up. They both make appreciative noises about the size of Megan Fox’s boobs, and then Puck laughs at Finn because he has pizza sauce on his chin.
Finn wipes it off on the back of his hand and grins, and Puck grins back, and Finn is really glad he has Puck to keep him company on his birthday. Finn isn’t sure why this birthday has more importance to him, or why he’s so grateful for Puck’s presence, but it’s making the day turn out better than he’d expected.
When pizza, beer and movie are finished, Finn makes eyes at the slices of cake sitting on the table. He ignores Puck’s, “dude, it sounds like you’re going to come on it, not eat it,” when he takes the first bite and makes an embarrassing noise (he really loves cake, okay?), but then he catches Puck watching him.
“What?” he asks defensively, licking frosting off his fingers and wishing there was more cake. He eyes the remains of Puck’s piece, one bite left, and is trying to figure out whether he can pull some sort of ‘but it’s my birthday’ pleading and get Puck to hand it over, when Puck smirks evilly and pops it into his mouth. He chews the cake with his mouth slightly open.
“Douche,” Finn says and Puck grin widens. He swallows and rubs his hands on his jeans and then gives Finn a funny look, like he’s hesitating to say something.
“What?” Finn asks again and Puck shrugs, as if to himself and says, “Dude, how many people have you kissed?” completely out of nowhere, which makes Finn scowl in return.
Finn hasn’t kissed anyone, unless his great aunt Gertie trying to plant a smacker on his lips at family reunions counts (she’s never succeeded because Finn is like a fucking ninja when it comes to avoiding gross family stuff like that). And Puck knows this. Puck knows Finn is clueless about that sort of thing. So to bring it up on his birthday is kind of an epic douchemove, in Finn’s mind.
“Fuck off,” Finn says, giving Puck a look that he hope conveys how much of a douche his so-called best friend is.
“Sweet Sixteen and never been kissed,” Puck smirks and Finn’s hand itches to slap the smirk off Puck’s face when suddenly Puck is pressed closer beside him than he was before.
Finn frowns, and it takes him longer than it probably should to figure out what Puck is doing. Long enough that Puck’s face is right in front of his, and Finn is watching his lips say “Happy Birthday, man,” before those lips are pressed to Finn’s own.
Finn makes a surprised sound and pulls back, staring at Puck. Puck looks tense, like he’s ready to fight or run away, like he’s daring Finn to punch him for kissing him.
“What did you do that for?” Finn demands. His voice is unusually low and husky, and he tries to clear his throat but it doesn’t help.
Puck edges back into where he was sitting before. He still looks wary as he scratches the back of his head and shrugs. “I didn’t have any money to get you a gift,” he says. “So I thought...”
He doesn’t say what he thought, just falls silent, watching Finn through worried eyes.
Finn nods slowly. “Oh,” he says. “Thank you. It...it’s a good present.”
“Yeah?” Puck asks. There’s a relieved smile starting to form at the corners of his mouth, and his shoulder’s slump in relaxation.
Finn licks his lips. They taste of chocolate and pizza, and he’s not sure if that’s him or Puck. He finds he can’t stop looking at Puck’s mouth, especially when Puck mirrors his actions and drags his tongue over his bottom lip, swiping across quickly and leaving a wet trail.
“Yeah,” Finn says, and leans in without thinking what he’s doing.
Puck meets him halfway.
Finn’s only ever kissed his pillow or his hand before, so he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He’s seen it on TV though so he figures it can’t be that difficult. But then Puck starts laughing when Finn thrusts his tongue blindly into his friend’s mouth and starts wriggling it around.
“Dude!” Puck’s hands are on Finn’s chest, pushing him back. “Try not to choke me. Just...calm down, okay?”
There’s a brief moment where Puck’s criticism smarts, but Finn is eager to learn and it’s not like Puck’s pushing him off, just holding him away enough to tell him what to do.
Finn starts copying what Puck’s doing, mimicking the pressure, the tentative exploration of tongue. He counts a couple of Puck’s teeth because that’s something he does to himself when he’s bored and trying to think too hard, and it’s pretty cool to be able to do that to someone else for a change, and then his tongue slides across the top of Puck’s mouth. Puck makes a strange moan that Finn assumes is a good thing because his hands on Finn’s head tighten and he pushes forward until Finn’s almost lying flat on the couch with Puck half on top of him.
There’s enough room that they’re not pressed too close together, enough that Finn’s pretty sure Puck can’t tell that the sensation of it all, the taste, and the sounds are sending little sparks of electricity down to Finn’s groin. It’s making him hard and he wants to press his hand against himself but he also doesn’t want to let go of the grip he has on Puck’s arm.
Finn loses track of time, and it’s not until he hears a key in the door that he realises how late it’s gotten. Puck jumps off him as they hear the front door open, and his mom calls, “Honey? You still awake?”
Puck wipes at his mouth as he helps Finn hastily stuff the empty cans of beer into Puck’s bag. They get everything hidden just in time for Finn’s mom to poke her head around the corner.
“Oh, hi Noah!” she smiles. “I didn’t know you were here! Have you boys had a good night?”
“Yeah, we have, Mrs Hudson,” Puck says, and Finn’s impressed as always at how smoothly lies seem to come to Puck.
“You’re home early, Mom,” Finn remarks as evenly as he can manage.
She nods. “I got someone to cover my last few hours of the shift. Didn’t want to miss your birthday completely. But if you boys are busy, I don’t want to interrupt.”
Finn feels torn, because he knows his mom must’ve called in a lot of favours to get someone to cover for her. But on the other hand there’s Puck and this new kissing thing they’re apparently doing. And Finn likes it.
Puck solves the problem by standing up and grabbing his jacket and the bag containing the empty beer cans.
“I should be getting home anyway,” he says, and Finn frowns.
“I thought you were staying the night,” Finn blurts, wincing a little when he hears how disappointed his voice sounds.
Puck shakes his head. “Nah, some other time, dude.”
He starts to head for the front door, nodding at Finn’s mom as he passes her. Finn follows closely behind, worried he’s done something wrong, that Puck hadn’t wanted to kiss him after all.
“You don’t have to go,” Finn says as Puck opens the door.
Puck shakes his head. “Go and hang with your mom, dude. She’s pretty cool for wanting to spend time with you.”
His words hint at bitterness; Finn knows neither of Puck’s parents have much time for him these days, and Finn knows that he’s lucked out. He might only have one parent, but she’s a good one.
Finn nods. “I...I had a good time tonight,” he says hesitantly.
Puck doesn’t reply, so Finn takes a deep breath. “Thank you for my birthday present,” he says, and then adds, as an afterthought, “and the cake.”
Puck smirks. “You’re welcome,” he says, and he doesn’t sound weirded out or anything. He sounds like he enjoyed it too.
“I should go,” Puck adds, and steps through the doorway. “See you tomorrow?”
Finn grins. “Yeah, okay man,” he says, and shuts the door because he’s not going to be a girl and watch Puck walk down the driveway or anything.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your guy time,” his mom says when he comes back, picking up the pizza box to take out to the trash.
“You didn’t,” Finn says, and then grins when she announces she’s brought home some pie.
They sit at the kitchen counter and eat, and Finn half listens to his mom tell him about her day, while the rest of his brain tries to come up with something just as good for Puck’s upcoming birthday.
Pairing: Finn/Puck
Rating: PG13
Word Count: ~2500
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me
Summary: Finn wasn’t expecting anything for his birthday, but when Puck comes over, he brings a surprise with him. Pre-Glee.
A/N: A tonne of thanks to redandglenda and mintyfiend for betaing. All remaining mistakes are mine. I’m trying out a Finn POV, and concrit is always welcomed. Title belongs to INXS.
Birthdays have never been a big deal for Finn. Mostly he spends them wishing his father could be there to see him grow up instead of dead from some war Finn doesn’t really understand and probably never will. There’s never been a lot of money to go around either, and sure, he got presents but it was never anything big. His mom had tried her hardest to throw him decent parties until he’d told her, aged nine, that he didn’t need all of that.
These days he doesn’t get much at all. His mom spends enough money on him, what with all the stuff he needs for school and his sports equipment and the occasional Xbox game. And it’s cool- he figures he doesn’t really need much anyway so he doesn’t ask for anything, even when she prompts him.
Still. This year is his sweet sixteenth and even though there’s not going to be a party, even though he’s not going to get a car like most of his friends got for their birthdays, he wants it to be special.
The day before his birthday, Finn’s mom comes home full of apologies because she can’t find anyone to cover her shift at work the following day which means she won’t be home until late- too late to celebrate. Finn hugs her and tells her it’s cool, that he doesn’t mind, but it’s a lie and there’s a stab of disappointment inside him, mingled with the same hurt and anger at his father for leaving them. He pushes it down and grins when she says they’ll celebrate at the weekend, that they’ll go for burgers or Chinese or whatever he wants to do.
His birthday always falls during Spring Break and as much as he’s popular and everyone seems to like him, he doesn’t have many people he can call up to hang out with. And not many people he’d actually want to spend his birthday with, and that’s fine. He’s got Puck, who’s been his best friend for as long as he can remember. Sure, sometimes Puck is a douche, but Finn can be too, so generally their friendship works out okay, and Finn knows Puck has his back, no matter what.
He calls Puck and invites him round the following evening. His mom, in a fit of guilt had pressed a crisp twenty into his palm and told him to order something nice for dinner, to enjoy himself. He tells Puck this and Puck laughs and says okay and hangs up.
Finn’s not even sure Puck understands why Finn wants to hang out on that particular day. Puck doesn’t do that sort of stuff. He’s not into the small things- doesn’t think about them, doesn’t worry about them, doesn’t remember them. So the idea of him remembering Finn’s birthday, when Finn’s barely mentioned it, seem slim.
So when he turns up on Finn’s doorstep, hiding a six pack of beer in his rucksack, and with a handful of DVDs and a sleeping bag, Finn gives him a surprised look.
“I figured ages ago we’d be hanging out today,” Puck explains when Finn frowns at him, and that’s all he says. He dumps his sleeping bag in Finn’s room and heads straight to the drawer in the kitchen where they keep the take out menus.
They argue about what to get, and it’s Puck who finally concedes, which makes Finn ask if that’s his birthday present- a cooperative Puck for a change.
Puck raises an eyebrow at Finn. “It can be if you want,” he says, and Finn’s about to grin and agree until it hits him that maybe it isn’t his present, maybe Puck actually got him something.
They don’t get each other presents. Or cards, because Puck says that’s too homo for words. But it is an important birthday after all and it’s possible that Finn’s already trying to think what to get Puck when he turns 16 in just over a month.
“Nah,” Finn says. “I think I’ll hold out for something better.” He’s joking, mostly, but Puck smirks, which is intriguing, like he’s already got something in mind. It makes Finn excited because no matter your age, everyone gets a thrill of excitement at a potential birthday present and he wonders what else Puck has hiding in his rucksack. Knowing Puck it’s probably an issue of Playboy or something. Which Finn thinks would actually be an awesome present.
But all Puck has in his rucksack, besides clothes and DVDs and beer is a couple of slices of cake (“My mom made me bring it, okay?” Puck says defensively when Finn’s smile threatens to engulf his whole face because he loves cake, especially cake he can eat on his birthday).
Finn’s about to stumble over words of thanks, because he’s more grateful than he thought that Puck is here, helping him celebrate his birthday, when the doorbell interrupts though and Puck jumps to his feet.
“Thank fuck,” he says emphatically, grabbing the twenty off the table. “I thought you were going to start acting like a girl,” he adds as he heads for the front door.
He’s gone for a few minutes, and Finn squashes down his gratitude. They have a rule- no apologies, no thank yous- and while Finn suspects Dr Phil would gently tell them they’re being emotionally stunted (it’s Spring Break, okay? There’s not much to do but watch daytime TV) it mostly works out for them.
Puck returns, sending ahead of him the sweet scent of melted cheese and tomato sauce that makes Finn’s stomach rumble loudly.
Finn puts on a DVD and they sit and eat, talking over the talky moments and expressing appropriate exclamations of ‘wow’ and ‘awesome’ when shit is blowing up. They both make appreciative noises about the size of Megan Fox’s boobs, and then Puck laughs at Finn because he has pizza sauce on his chin.
Finn wipes it off on the back of his hand and grins, and Puck grins back, and Finn is really glad he has Puck to keep him company on his birthday. Finn isn’t sure why this birthday has more importance to him, or why he’s so grateful for Puck’s presence, but it’s making the day turn out better than he’d expected.
When pizza, beer and movie are finished, Finn makes eyes at the slices of cake sitting on the table. He ignores Puck’s, “dude, it sounds like you’re going to come on it, not eat it,” when he takes the first bite and makes an embarrassing noise (he really loves cake, okay?), but then he catches Puck watching him.
“What?” he asks defensively, licking frosting off his fingers and wishing there was more cake. He eyes the remains of Puck’s piece, one bite left, and is trying to figure out whether he can pull some sort of ‘but it’s my birthday’ pleading and get Puck to hand it over, when Puck smirks evilly and pops it into his mouth. He chews the cake with his mouth slightly open.
“Douche,” Finn says and Puck grin widens. He swallows and rubs his hands on his jeans and then gives Finn a funny look, like he’s hesitating to say something.
“What?” Finn asks again and Puck shrugs, as if to himself and says, “Dude, how many people have you kissed?” completely out of nowhere, which makes Finn scowl in return.
Finn hasn’t kissed anyone, unless his great aunt Gertie trying to plant a smacker on his lips at family reunions counts (she’s never succeeded because Finn is like a fucking ninja when it comes to avoiding gross family stuff like that). And Puck knows this. Puck knows Finn is clueless about that sort of thing. So to bring it up on his birthday is kind of an epic douchemove, in Finn’s mind.
“Fuck off,” Finn says, giving Puck a look that he hope conveys how much of a douche his so-called best friend is.
“Sweet Sixteen and never been kissed,” Puck smirks and Finn’s hand itches to slap the smirk off Puck’s face when suddenly Puck is pressed closer beside him than he was before.
Finn frowns, and it takes him longer than it probably should to figure out what Puck is doing. Long enough that Puck’s face is right in front of his, and Finn is watching his lips say “Happy Birthday, man,” before those lips are pressed to Finn’s own.
Finn makes a surprised sound and pulls back, staring at Puck. Puck looks tense, like he’s ready to fight or run away, like he’s daring Finn to punch him for kissing him.
“What did you do that for?” Finn demands. His voice is unusually low and husky, and he tries to clear his throat but it doesn’t help.
Puck edges back into where he was sitting before. He still looks wary as he scratches the back of his head and shrugs. “I didn’t have any money to get you a gift,” he says. “So I thought...”
He doesn’t say what he thought, just falls silent, watching Finn through worried eyes.
Finn nods slowly. “Oh,” he says. “Thank you. It...it’s a good present.”
“Yeah?” Puck asks. There’s a relieved smile starting to form at the corners of his mouth, and his shoulder’s slump in relaxation.
Finn licks his lips. They taste of chocolate and pizza, and he’s not sure if that’s him or Puck. He finds he can’t stop looking at Puck’s mouth, especially when Puck mirrors his actions and drags his tongue over his bottom lip, swiping across quickly and leaving a wet trail.
“Yeah,” Finn says, and leans in without thinking what he’s doing.
Puck meets him halfway.
Finn’s only ever kissed his pillow or his hand before, so he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He’s seen it on TV though so he figures it can’t be that difficult. But then Puck starts laughing when Finn thrusts his tongue blindly into his friend’s mouth and starts wriggling it around.
“Dude!” Puck’s hands are on Finn’s chest, pushing him back. “Try not to choke me. Just...calm down, okay?”
There’s a brief moment where Puck’s criticism smarts, but Finn is eager to learn and it’s not like Puck’s pushing him off, just holding him away enough to tell him what to do.
Finn starts copying what Puck’s doing, mimicking the pressure, the tentative exploration of tongue. He counts a couple of Puck’s teeth because that’s something he does to himself when he’s bored and trying to think too hard, and it’s pretty cool to be able to do that to someone else for a change, and then his tongue slides across the top of Puck’s mouth. Puck makes a strange moan that Finn assumes is a good thing because his hands on Finn’s head tighten and he pushes forward until Finn’s almost lying flat on the couch with Puck half on top of him.
There’s enough room that they’re not pressed too close together, enough that Finn’s pretty sure Puck can’t tell that the sensation of it all, the taste, and the sounds are sending little sparks of electricity down to Finn’s groin. It’s making him hard and he wants to press his hand against himself but he also doesn’t want to let go of the grip he has on Puck’s arm.
Finn loses track of time, and it’s not until he hears a key in the door that he realises how late it’s gotten. Puck jumps off him as they hear the front door open, and his mom calls, “Honey? You still awake?”
Puck wipes at his mouth as he helps Finn hastily stuff the empty cans of beer into Puck’s bag. They get everything hidden just in time for Finn’s mom to poke her head around the corner.
“Oh, hi Noah!” she smiles. “I didn’t know you were here! Have you boys had a good night?”
“Yeah, we have, Mrs Hudson,” Puck says, and Finn’s impressed as always at how smoothly lies seem to come to Puck.
“You’re home early, Mom,” Finn remarks as evenly as he can manage.
She nods. “I got someone to cover my last few hours of the shift. Didn’t want to miss your birthday completely. But if you boys are busy, I don’t want to interrupt.”
Finn feels torn, because he knows his mom must’ve called in a lot of favours to get someone to cover for her. But on the other hand there’s Puck and this new kissing thing they’re apparently doing. And Finn likes it.
Puck solves the problem by standing up and grabbing his jacket and the bag containing the empty beer cans.
“I should be getting home anyway,” he says, and Finn frowns.
“I thought you were staying the night,” Finn blurts, wincing a little when he hears how disappointed his voice sounds.
Puck shakes his head. “Nah, some other time, dude.”
He starts to head for the front door, nodding at Finn’s mom as he passes her. Finn follows closely behind, worried he’s done something wrong, that Puck hadn’t wanted to kiss him after all.
“You don’t have to go,” Finn says as Puck opens the door.
Puck shakes his head. “Go and hang with your mom, dude. She’s pretty cool for wanting to spend time with you.”
His words hint at bitterness; Finn knows neither of Puck’s parents have much time for him these days, and Finn knows that he’s lucked out. He might only have one parent, but she’s a good one.
Finn nods. “I...I had a good time tonight,” he says hesitantly.
Puck doesn’t reply, so Finn takes a deep breath. “Thank you for my birthday present,” he says, and then adds, as an afterthought, “and the cake.”
Puck smirks. “You’re welcome,” he says, and he doesn’t sound weirded out or anything. He sounds like he enjoyed it too.
“I should go,” Puck adds, and steps through the doorway. “See you tomorrow?”
Finn grins. “Yeah, okay man,” he says, and shuts the door because he’s not going to be a girl and watch Puck walk down the driveway or anything.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your guy time,” his mom says when he comes back, picking up the pizza box to take out to the trash.
“You didn’t,” Finn says, and then grins when she announces she’s brought home some pie.
They sit at the kitchen counter and eat, and Finn half listens to his mom tell him about her day, while the rest of his brain tries to come up with something just as good for Puck’s upcoming birthday.