Fic: The Unofficial Lima Welcome Wagon (Glee, Puck/Finn/Sam, Puck/Finn)
Title: The Unofficial Lima Welcome Wagon
Pairing: Puck/Finn/Sam, established Puck/Finn
Rating: R
Word Count: ~4800
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: When Puck and Finn take Sam to a bar to welcome him to Lima, their welcoming committee ends up a bit more hands on than expected.
A/N: Written for becca_radcgg from a prompt she left me for the one sentence meme. It kind of grew bigger than I expected. Wonderfully betaed by mintyfiend, but I’ve messed around with it a bit since then so any mistakes are mine. Concrit most welcome.
Sam is sceptical.
“When you said you wanted to welcome me to town, I thought we’d get a pizza and play some video games,” he says as they walk down the dark street towards the bar.
Puck gives him a scathing look. “Live a little, dude. Don’t be so uptight. It’s cool, we’ll get in.”
Sam turns to Finn, who looks surprisingly relaxed considering they’re trying to sneak into a bar, way underage.
“It’s cool,” he says, patting Sam’s shoulder reassuringly. “Puck knows the guy on the door. I think he cleans his pool or something.”
Sam isn’t convinced but Puck gives the bouncer some sort of lame complicated handshake and then they’re inside.
The bar is dark and dank and probably not the sort of place Sam would choose for his first time illegally buying alcohol, but no one even looks twice at them as he follows Finn and Puck and takes a seat at the bar.
Puck holds up three fingers and the barman plonks a bowl of lime wedges in front of them, followed by three glasses of amber liquid.
“Tequila,” Finn explains when Sam frowns.
Sam represses the urge to roll his eyes- he’s a bit sheltered, sure, but not that sheltered. Instead he licks his hand and reaches for the salt shaker. Two seconds later he slams the shot glass down, sucking on a lime as he raises a challenging brow in Finn’s direction.
Puck hoots and raises a hand for Sam to slap above Finn’s head.
“New kid’s got balls,” he says, nudging Finn.
Finn takes a shot, making a face as he swallows. “Ugh,” he complains and Puck laughs as he follows suit.
“Keep ‘em coming!” Puck says to the bartender who looks unimpressed at being ordered about by a punk kid.
There’s hardly anyone else in the bar though, so he pours them another drink then, after a moment of hesitation, puts the tequila bottle down within reach and wanders off to flirt with some pretty girls down the other end of the bar.
They take another shot, and Sam finds himself floating happily in the alcohol haze, listening to Finn and Puck laugh and joke and egg each other on to take another shot.
Sam’s missed this, being around guys who aren’t constantly trying to size him up. He misses his friends from his old school, misses how he didn’t stand out there like he does at McKinley, being the new kid. It’s good to sit back and just watch without being watched for a change.
It’s not until the fourth shot that he realises he’s watching Puck and Finn lick salt from each other’s hands instead of their own. At first Sam thinks he’s mistaken, that the alcohol is clouding his senses more than he’d thought, but then his eyes follow Puck’s tongue as it slides along the back of Finn’s hand, picking up the salt crystals in its path.
Sam inhales sharply and Finn’s head snaps round. It’s almost as if he’d forgotten Sam was there, and his cheeks colour as he snatches his hand out of Puck’s grip, almost knocking over the tequila bottle as he does.
“What the fuck?” Puck demands, grabbing the bottle before it can tip over, and starting to glare at Finn until he sees Sam’s face, mouth hanging open.
There’s a flash of something behind Puck’s eyes- fear maybe, although Sam isn’t sure- and then nothing but cold defiance and a set jaw.
“You got a problem?” Puck asks, challenging, and Sam shakes his head wordlessly.
“No, I...I have to pee,” he says quickly, stumbling as he gets up from the stool. He makes his way to the back of the bar, hoping he’ll stumble across the bathroom or at least somewhere quieter where he can breathe. Sam feels sick, but it’s not from the tequila and it’s not from what he just saw. At least not really.
He’s got the bathroom in his sights when a hand clamps itself to the back of his shirt, steering him towards the emergency exit.
The door slams open and Sam finds himself pushed out into the alley. He trips over his own feet, reaching out to catch himself from landing face first against the wall.
Rough hands turn him around, slamming his back against the bricks.
It’s Puck, of course, and the cold defiance is mixed with a burst of anger now. Sam’s pretty sure he’s going to end up with a black eye, at best, as he watches Puck raises his fist.
And then Finn is there, tugging at Puck’s arm, trying to pull him back.
“Dude, calm down,” Finn says, but Puck’s still fisting a handful of Sam’s shirt, leaning in close.
“Whatever you think you saw,” Puck says, voice low, “you didn’t. Okay?”
Sam’s eyes dart to Finn, who tries to yank Puck away again.
“Sorry,” Finn mouths, and Sam drags his eyes back to Puck’s face.
Puck’s body is pressing Sam’s against the wall, faces close enough that their tequila scented breath is mingling. They’ve all drunk enough that no one’s going to be driving home, enough that inhibitions are lowered enough that things just happen. Like Finn and Puck slipping up and letting Sam see there’s something between them.
Sam’s body aches suddenly, and not from the manhandling. He aches and he misses and he’s jealous because he knows without asking that the thing between Finn and Puck is something big, big enough that Puck feels he has to defend it. It brings back memories of someone Sam will probably never see again, someone who he knows is partly responsible for the move to Lima because of the way his mom’s lips had narrowed when Sam had begged to be able to stop and say goodbye before the left.
It’s the sick emptiness and the too much liquor and the rush of adrenaline from thinking he’s about to have his ass kicked that does it. Sam doesn’t even think about what he’s doing until his mouth is pressed against Puck’s and he’s kissing him, hard and desperate and needy.
Puck breaks the kiss almost as quickly as it began, jumping back so there’s space between their bodies and Sam feels cold suddenly, shivering in the night air.
Puck and Finn exchange a look and Sam’s pretty sure his black eye is still on its way, except maybe it’s Finn that’s going to be delivering it. Which sucks because Sam likes Finn, wants to be his friend, not the douche who kissed his friend’s boyfriend.
“Sorry,” Sam chokes out, not wanting to meet their eyes. “I don’t know- I didn’t mean...sorry.”
There’s a long, awkward silence filled only with distant music from the bar and the sound of street traffic.
Sam steels himself to look up.
Finn and Puck look at each other for one more long moment, then back at Sam.
“You-”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Sam interrupts, slapping one hand over his heart. “I swear.”
Puck holds up his hands. “It’s okay,” he says, strangely calm for a guy who was about to beat the shit out of someone and then got kissed instead. “I know. Sorry. I just...”
He turns away and Sam feels suddenly miserable because here are two guys, trying to make him feel welcome in this strange new town, and he repays them by fucking things up.
Finn steps towards him and Sam holds his hands up defensively, blocking his face. He winces as Finn’s hand reaches out and long fingers wrap around his wrist, pushes his hand down. Sam braces himself for the punch to land.
Instead Finn leans down and kisses him. It’s soft and sweet and Sam closes his eyes and enjoys it for a heartbeat or two, before turning his head and pushing Finn away.
“What the fuck?” he demands, but it’s fuelled by confusion, not anger.
Finn shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away, over at Puck.
“I didn’t...we didn’t know you were, uh...” Puck clears his throat and gives Sam a meaningful look.
“Oh,” Sam says. He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess...there was a guy.”
Finn looks curious, like he’s about to ask a whole bunch of questions Sam would really prefer not to answer, so he hurriedly says, “I didn’t know you guys were together.”
Puck gives a nervous bark of laughter and Finn shakes his head quickly, eyes wide.
“We’re not!” Finn says. “I mean. No, it’s not like that. We’re not gay or anything.”
His words are too quick, too clipped, and Sam knows exactly what’s going through Finn’s head, and maybe Puck’s too. Sam isn’t even sure if he’s got it all figured out, but he’s always assumed that he’s not supposed to understand all of this shit, all of these labels they’re supposed to wear, when he’s only sixteen.
“Okay,” Sam says, and there’s another awkward silence.
“We just...you know,” Puck shrugs. “Sometimes it’s good to help a bro out.”
“Oh,” Sam says, nodding slowly. He doesn’t totally get it, but if Finn and Puck prefer ‘friends with benefits’ to ‘boyfriends’ it isn’t Sam’s place to make thinks awkward by saying anything.
Finn gives Puck a long hard stare and Sam turns his head in time to catch Puck’s chin jerk up, just a little.
“You, uh, you could join us sometimes if you wanted,” Finn says, carefully not meeting Sam’s eyes. “If you needed helping out, I mean. It’s what bros do for each other, right?”
Sam bites his lip to stop his smile. “Thanks,” he says. “Maybe I’ll take you up on the offer sometime.”
Finn grins, wide and genuine and it makes Sam want to laugh because it’s so different from the awkward, stuttering Finn from just moments earlier. He glances over at Puck, catching him giving Sam an appraising look. He looks away so quickly when he sees Sam watching him that Sam’s surprised he doesn’t get whiplash.
It’s all kind of ridiculous, the fumbling inability of any of them being able to say ‘I want’ but Sam gets it, understands it better than they probably realise.
And the ache is still there inside him, something that disappeared at least for a moment when he’d been kissing them.
Later Sam plans on blaming the tequila but everything’s just fucked up enough that there’s really nothing to lose. And at least no one will ever find out, because there’s no way anyone in the alley is going to say anything. So he won’t get dragged away from Lima before he can settle in.
“Like, maybe now?” Sam says, trying to sound more confident than hopeful. He’s got nothing to lose, but he crosses his fingers subtly just in case.
Finn’s head snaps up in surprise and Puck only has a moment to say, “Fuck, yeah,” before Sam is shoving Puck up against the wall, one hand behind Puck’s neck as he kisses him.
It’s the same desperate need as before, but this time Puck is kissing back and his hands are sliding down Sam’s back and underneath the waistband of his jeans to pull their bodies flush against each other.
Sam’s heard the rumours, of course, about Puck being a ladies’ man and something about him stealing Finn’s girlfriend and knocking her up- something he’s almost afraid to ask anyone at school about because he doesn’t want to be that guy who goes around gossiping about people he’s trying to be friends with- but he hadn’t expected Puck to be as good as everyone said.
“Not bad, new guy,” Puck says, when Sam pushes away, turning to see Finn watching them.
He’s frowning a little, and the guilt washes over Sam like a slap of cold water, chasing away any warmth he’d gained from Puck’s kiss, from his touch.
It doesn’t matter that Finn and Puck insist there’s nothing serious between them. Sam knows that look on Finn’s face, knows it with the sting of a still unhealed wound. Sam never wants to be the cause of that look.
“I’m sorry,” Sam says quickly, falling over himself to get the apology out as quickly as possible. “I didn’t, I mean, I don’t think this-”
Puck looks confused, and Sam doesn’t blame him. As soon as Puck turns in Finn’s direction, Finn’s face is carefully blank and all Puck can see is some new dude chickening out.
Puck steps back, and Sam pushes down the regret inside him and meets Finn’s gaze levelly.
“Finn,” he starts to say, because he needs an excuse, doesn’t want to ruin the moment when Finn will tell Puck he loves him by spilling it all out now.
Finn shakes his head though, cutting Sam off and pulls him away from the wall.
Sam can’t help the “Whoa!” that starts to escape from his lips in surprise, and then finds himself swallowing the rest of the word as Finn’s mouth crushes onto his, pulling Sam in tight enough against his chest that all of the wind knocks out of him and he can only kiss Finn back for a few seconds before turning his head to gasp for air.
Sam sees Puck watching them, a roguish smirk on his face, arms folded like he’s enjoying what he’s seeing, but then Finn dips his face to Sam’s neck, lips tickling against his ear as he whispers, “It’s okay, we want this. We both want this, I swear.”
“Okay,” Sam whispers back, and Finn’s teeth scrape over his earlobe. It makes Sam’s toes curl up inside his sneakers and his limbs go a little bit limp. Who would have thought Finn would actually have moves?
Finn does it again and Sam can’t help responding with a moan. Finn tilts his head back and grins and maybe it’s the grin or the moan or maybe both in combination but it seems to be some sort of sign. There’s a warm body at Sam’s back suddenly, firm hands on his hips holding him in place as Finn slides his mouth down from Sam’s ear, down his neck to his collar bone.
Sam hisses as Finn’s teeth scrape along the bone there and he wonders how Finn could possibly know what that does to Sam.
Puck’s chest shakes against Sam’s back as he laughs.
“Oh, he going to like you,” Puck says. When Sam twists his neck to look back at him he continues. “Finn has a thing for biting. When we were kids he’d always win fights because he’d bite me until he’d leave tiny white teeth marks in my skin.”
Sam can’t imagine having that sort of history with someone, knowing someone their whole lives to know shit like that about them, anecdotes to so casually throw into conversation.
“It’s not your thing?” Sam asks and Puck screws up his face, shaking his head.
“Nope, but Finnessa here fights like a girl- biting and scratching and slapping- so he loves doing that shit.”
“Fuck you,” Finn says, narrowing his eyes at Puck and stepping to the side enough to punch Puck in the kidney.
Puck wheezes against Sam’s back, clinging to his hip tighter, but his smile grows wider.
“He’s feisty too,” Puck adds.
Sam grins back. He likes the way Puck is selling Finn to Sam, making sure to point out points of interest but trying to make out like he doesn’t love these things about his friend. Sam wonders if Puck realises how much the light insults really speak volumes about his feelings.
“Let’s get this show really started,” Puck says impatiently, reaching around from behind to undo the front of Sam’s jeans.
Sam pushes his hands away.
“Not that,” he says. “Not yet. How about this?”
He sinks to his knees slowly, staring up at Puck and Finn who look at each other then down at him.
“Figure I should repay you for taking me under your wing,” Sam says. “Besides, you did ask me how many balls I could fit in my mouth.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
He’s kidding of course- although he’s never tried it so maybe he would be able to take them both in. It isn’t exactly what he has in mind anyway, and he just hopes Puck won’t be too disappointed.
Sam hooks his fingers into one of Finn’s belt loops, tugging him in closer. Beside him, Puck is already undoing his own belt, taking his time sliding the leather through metal then easing the zipper down slowly. His eyes are fixed on Sam’s hand at Finn’s waist, and so Sam reaches out and tugs downward.
Finn’s jeans are loose enough that it doesn’t take much for Sam to ease them down, leaving Finn in just his boxers.
Sam glances at Puck, who has stopped with his fly halfway down. Sam can already see that Puck’s going commando underneath, which doesn’t really surprise him. Puck seems like a guy who has ‘easy access’ as a personal motto.
“Come on,” Puck growls impatiently and Sam smiles slowly, running his fingertips just above the waistband of Finn’s boxers, tugging the elastic out and snapping it back lightly.
It makes Finn jump and Puck laughs causing Sam to switch his attention to Puck’s face as he finally eases the light fabric down Finn’s thighs. It’s a good call, and he gets to see Puck’s eyes go from crinkled amusement to naked hunger.
“Do Finn first,” Puck says, voice low, and Sam complies.
He pushes Finn’s shirt up, bunching the hem in his hand as he rests it on Finn’s stomach. It gives him easy access to Finn’s dick, hard and ready for him.
Sam licks his lips in preparation and catches the mirrored movement as he glances back up at Puck.
He tries to keep his eyes on Puck as he wraps his hand around the base of Finn’s dick and fits his mouth over the head.
Sam has only ever done this with one guy, and he tries not to think about it too much anymore. He’d expected it to be weird, to be too similar or too different but instead it’s a nice mixture of familiarity and excitement at doing this with Finn for the first time.
Finn groans encouragingly and Sam leans back, sliding his tongue up the length then sucking Finn back into his mouth to move in time with his hand.
The differences are a fun learning curve- the pleasing realisation that a swirl of his tongue in just the right spot makes Finn swear under his breath, that letting his fingers slide back just enough to graze Finn’s balls makes Finn’s thigh muscles shudder, that just the right amount of pressure at the base makes Finn’s hips jerk forward suddenly.
Sam feels oddly sober now, like the adrenaline from doing this has burnt all the alcohol in his system away. It means he’s more aware of his senses- the musky scent of teenage boy, the subtle saltiness of Finn’s precome on his tongue, the heat from Finn’s skin contrasted with the cool chill of the night air.
Sam takes a deep breath and takes Finn in a bit deeper. It’s nothing very impressive but the movement makes Finn moan and his hand lands on the top of Sam’s head.
His fingers dig into Sam’s scalp, and Sam almost starts laughing at the idea that the best head massage he’s ever had is happening in the middle of a three way blowjob hook up in a harshly lit alleyway. Weird and possibly lame things always amuse him at the strangest moments.
Sam can tell Finn is getting close so he reaches out, resting his hand on Puck’s thigh for a moment then sliding his hand up. He wants this, all of this, all of them, to be connected.
He pushes past Puck’s hand, knocking it aside so that the jeans Puck had been holding up fall down and Sam has easy access. Without turning to look he takes Puck’s dick in his hand and begins to stroke, lightly at first until Puck’s dick is fully erect. He picks up the pace, matching it to his mouth and other hand on Finn’s dick, then stops, leaning away from Finn and turning to Puck.
Sam looks up as he does, finding Finn’s hand on Puck’s shoulder for support.
Puck grins down at Sam just as Finn says, “Hey, no fair, I’m not done,” and Sam rubs his lips over the head of Puck’s dick.
He doesn’t open up and take Puck in, not yet. Instead he mouths along the length, dragging his tongue back up slowly.
Sam looks up as he slides Puck’s dick between his lips, watching Puck watch him. Beside him, Finn shuffles in closer so he can watch too.
“Your mouth is made for fucking,” Puck says, and Sam jerks in surprise. He’d been told that before and hearing Puck say the words makes the memories flood back.
“Are you okay?” Finn asks, peering down at him in concern.
Sam takes a second then shrugs it off. “Yeah, of course,” he says, and pushes aside thoughts of another boy’s hands in his hair, another dick sliding heavily over his tongue. This isn’t about him. Sam’s put all that behind him, moved on. This is about Sam and Puck and Finn.
Sam sucks Puck back into his mouth, rubbing his thumb over the head of Finn’s dick as he does so. Finn’s standing so close to Puck now that there’s not much room for Sam to manoeuvre and his hand on Finn’s dick brushes his own cheek as he slides Puck in and out of his mouth.
Gravel digs into Sam’s knees, even through the thick denim covering them, but he doesn’t mind. It feels good to be doing this. Not just the blow jobs even though Sam really does enjoy giving them, but the whole being part of something. It’s something he’s missed and he’d hardly expected guys like Puck and Finn to give a new kid the time of day, let alone this.
There’s a soft noise above him and Sam rolls his eyes up to see Puck and Finn kissing, still leaning against each other to remain upright. It’s sweet and Sam would worry about intruding into a moment, if he didn’t have a dick in each hand.
He twists his wrist slightly, making Finn gasp against Puck’s mouth. Finn’s hand moves to settle on the back of Sam’s head again, fingers winding in Sam’s hair. It takes Sam a moment to figure out that Finn is trying to move his head, controlling the speed he bobs his head up and down on Puck’s dick. Sam lets Finn move him, pushing him in almost too far then pulling him back again. It stings a little, where Finn’s got a tight grasp on his hair, but Sam isn’t going to complain.
Above Sam, Puck lets out a shuddery breath. “I’m really close,” he says, “I’m gonna-” and that’s almost all the warning Sam gets. Except it isn’t Puck coming, it’s Finn, Finn’s come hitting the side of Sam’s face. It surprises Sam into a silent laugh.
He tries to pull off Puck so he can wipe his face, but the vibrations from his laughter must be doing it for Puck because a thumb rubs against his cheekbone, hand cupping his cheek.
“Sam,” Puck says, and comes across Sam’s tongue and lips.
Sam swallows, stilling his head until Puck’s finished and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Here,” Puck says after a few moments, reaching down and rubbing at Sam’s cheek with the hem of his shirt.
“I don’t want to ruin your shirt,” Sam protests, trying to turn away, and Puck snorts.
“Not like it’s the first time that’s happened,” Finn says, stumbling when Puck shoves him away. They laugh, and Finn’s shirt sleeve swipes at Sam’s cheek too until he’s clean.
“Thanks,” Sam says, watching as Finn pulls his boxers and jeans up in one go, while Puck does his fly up carefully.
Finn reaches down and offers a hand, pulling Sam to his feet.
Sam brushes his knees off, wincing a little when he realises his foot’s started to go to sleep. Finn frowns, concerned.
“You okay?” he asks and Puck makes an incredulous noise.
“Of course he isn’t,” Puck says, and Sam is about to protest because, really, he’s doing awesomely, but Puck continues. “He just got us off and we’re leaving him hanging with a major case of blue balls. Not cool.”
“Oh,” Finn says, nodding decisively and pushing Sam back against the wall. He smiles and it’s kind of dorky, but kind of hot at the same time. Sam doesn’t know how he manages that, but he likes it.
“We should return the favour,” Finn tells him, placing a hand either side of Sam’s head and leaning in for a kiss. His tongue licks into Sam’s mouth and Sam wonders if Finn can taste Puck there, if he recognises the flavour.
When Finn pulls back his grin is wide. He winks, then eagerly drops down to his knees in front of Sam.
“Need a hand?” Puck asks as Finn fumbles with the top button on Sam’s jeans. He doesn’t wait for an answer, just slips his hand under Sam’s waistband and down to cup him gently.
“Uh,” Sam gasps and Puck smirks wickedly as Sam’s dick is freed from its confines.
“Watch this,” Puck orders and Sam looks down in time to see Puck feed his dick into Finn’s mouth.
“Oh god,” Sam moans as he’s engulfed in the wet heat of Finn’s mouth.
Puck gives Sam a self satisfied smile. “Gods,” he corrects, and slides down until he’s kneeling beside Finn.
As Sam watches, Puck leans in, almost bumping heads with Finn, to flick his tongue against the base of Sam’s dick then lower to his balls.
The feeling of two mouths on him is almost too much, yet at the same time Sam wants even more. He wants to reach down and pull them in closer, to thrust his hips and slide further into the warmth.
He knows if he watches he’s not going to last long. And he wants to savour this moment, in case it never happens again. So Sam closes his eyes and tips his head back against the wall. He focuses on the sensation, smiling at how he can’t tell who’s who anymore.
Sam bites his lip to stifle the moans that want to escape and breathes as slow and steadily as he can manage, desperate to hold on as long as possible. He can tell neither Finn nor Puck are strangers to having a dick in their mouths, but he wonders if they’ve ever done this before, double teaming another guy. Neither of them say a word but they still seem to be able to work together to tease Sam almost to the brink before backing off again. They do it again, and then again and Sam’s about to beg for more or for release, he doesn’t know, when one of them does something.
It’s a movement of a finger or a tongue or maybe a combination of both and Sam comes hard and without warning. His legs feel like jelly and he’s glad he has the wall to support him as someone’s hand milks him through the orgasm until he’s done.
“Wow,” Sam breathes, hands still flat against the rough brick to ground himself.
“Welcome to Lima, new kid,” Puck says, getting to his feet and wiping at his mouth.
Finn jumps up beside him, looking almost anxious until Sam says, “That was amazing.”
Finn smiles in relief, and Sam grins back, pulling his pants up. He fumbles with the fastenings, hands still shaking a little.
“Thanks,” he says, smiling wide as he waits a beat or two then asks, “So, what else do you crazy kids do for fun around here?”
Finn laughs and Puck smirks and Sam shoves his hands into his pockets and tries not to grin like an idiot because this is the best welcoming committee he could have asked for.
“Come on,” Puck says, thumbing down the alley towards the road. “The night is young. We’ll show you.”
Sam smiles and follows as the walk down the alley, Finn’s shoulders hunched against the cold air, Puck kicking at a stray beer can.
This thing with Puck and Finn, whatever they want to call it and whatever it turns out to be, isn’t going to make Sam forget things from before, but it’s more than a good enough distraction. Maybe, Sam thinks, being dragged away from things and brought to Lima is going to be better than he’d thought.
Pairing: Puck/Finn/Sam, established Puck/Finn
Rating: R
Word Count: ~4800
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: When Puck and Finn take Sam to a bar to welcome him to Lima, their welcoming committee ends up a bit more hands on than expected.
A/N: Written for becca_radcgg from a prompt she left me for the one sentence meme. It kind of grew bigger than I expected. Wonderfully betaed by mintyfiend, but I’ve messed around with it a bit since then so any mistakes are mine. Concrit most welcome.
Sam is sceptical.
“When you said you wanted to welcome me to town, I thought we’d get a pizza and play some video games,” he says as they walk down the dark street towards the bar.
Puck gives him a scathing look. “Live a little, dude. Don’t be so uptight. It’s cool, we’ll get in.”
Sam turns to Finn, who looks surprisingly relaxed considering they’re trying to sneak into a bar, way underage.
“It’s cool,” he says, patting Sam’s shoulder reassuringly. “Puck knows the guy on the door. I think he cleans his pool or something.”
Sam isn’t convinced but Puck gives the bouncer some sort of lame complicated handshake and then they’re inside.
The bar is dark and dank and probably not the sort of place Sam would choose for his first time illegally buying alcohol, but no one even looks twice at them as he follows Finn and Puck and takes a seat at the bar.
Puck holds up three fingers and the barman plonks a bowl of lime wedges in front of them, followed by three glasses of amber liquid.
“Tequila,” Finn explains when Sam frowns.
Sam represses the urge to roll his eyes- he’s a bit sheltered, sure, but not that sheltered. Instead he licks his hand and reaches for the salt shaker. Two seconds later he slams the shot glass down, sucking on a lime as he raises a challenging brow in Finn’s direction.
Puck hoots and raises a hand for Sam to slap above Finn’s head.
“New kid’s got balls,” he says, nudging Finn.
Finn takes a shot, making a face as he swallows. “Ugh,” he complains and Puck laughs as he follows suit.
“Keep ‘em coming!” Puck says to the bartender who looks unimpressed at being ordered about by a punk kid.
There’s hardly anyone else in the bar though, so he pours them another drink then, after a moment of hesitation, puts the tequila bottle down within reach and wanders off to flirt with some pretty girls down the other end of the bar.
They take another shot, and Sam finds himself floating happily in the alcohol haze, listening to Finn and Puck laugh and joke and egg each other on to take another shot.
Sam’s missed this, being around guys who aren’t constantly trying to size him up. He misses his friends from his old school, misses how he didn’t stand out there like he does at McKinley, being the new kid. It’s good to sit back and just watch without being watched for a change.
It’s not until the fourth shot that he realises he’s watching Puck and Finn lick salt from each other’s hands instead of their own. At first Sam thinks he’s mistaken, that the alcohol is clouding his senses more than he’d thought, but then his eyes follow Puck’s tongue as it slides along the back of Finn’s hand, picking up the salt crystals in its path.
Sam inhales sharply and Finn’s head snaps round. It’s almost as if he’d forgotten Sam was there, and his cheeks colour as he snatches his hand out of Puck’s grip, almost knocking over the tequila bottle as he does.
“What the fuck?” Puck demands, grabbing the bottle before it can tip over, and starting to glare at Finn until he sees Sam’s face, mouth hanging open.
There’s a flash of something behind Puck’s eyes- fear maybe, although Sam isn’t sure- and then nothing but cold defiance and a set jaw.
“You got a problem?” Puck asks, challenging, and Sam shakes his head wordlessly.
“No, I...I have to pee,” he says quickly, stumbling as he gets up from the stool. He makes his way to the back of the bar, hoping he’ll stumble across the bathroom or at least somewhere quieter where he can breathe. Sam feels sick, but it’s not from the tequila and it’s not from what he just saw. At least not really.
He’s got the bathroom in his sights when a hand clamps itself to the back of his shirt, steering him towards the emergency exit.
The door slams open and Sam finds himself pushed out into the alley. He trips over his own feet, reaching out to catch himself from landing face first against the wall.
Rough hands turn him around, slamming his back against the bricks.
It’s Puck, of course, and the cold defiance is mixed with a burst of anger now. Sam’s pretty sure he’s going to end up with a black eye, at best, as he watches Puck raises his fist.
And then Finn is there, tugging at Puck’s arm, trying to pull him back.
“Dude, calm down,” Finn says, but Puck’s still fisting a handful of Sam’s shirt, leaning in close.
“Whatever you think you saw,” Puck says, voice low, “you didn’t. Okay?”
Sam’s eyes dart to Finn, who tries to yank Puck away again.
“Sorry,” Finn mouths, and Sam drags his eyes back to Puck’s face.
Puck’s body is pressing Sam’s against the wall, faces close enough that their tequila scented breath is mingling. They’ve all drunk enough that no one’s going to be driving home, enough that inhibitions are lowered enough that things just happen. Like Finn and Puck slipping up and letting Sam see there’s something between them.
Sam’s body aches suddenly, and not from the manhandling. He aches and he misses and he’s jealous because he knows without asking that the thing between Finn and Puck is something big, big enough that Puck feels he has to defend it. It brings back memories of someone Sam will probably never see again, someone who he knows is partly responsible for the move to Lima because of the way his mom’s lips had narrowed when Sam had begged to be able to stop and say goodbye before the left.
It’s the sick emptiness and the too much liquor and the rush of adrenaline from thinking he’s about to have his ass kicked that does it. Sam doesn’t even think about what he’s doing until his mouth is pressed against Puck’s and he’s kissing him, hard and desperate and needy.
Puck breaks the kiss almost as quickly as it began, jumping back so there’s space between their bodies and Sam feels cold suddenly, shivering in the night air.
Puck and Finn exchange a look and Sam’s pretty sure his black eye is still on its way, except maybe it’s Finn that’s going to be delivering it. Which sucks because Sam likes Finn, wants to be his friend, not the douche who kissed his friend’s boyfriend.
“Sorry,” Sam chokes out, not wanting to meet their eyes. “I don’t know- I didn’t mean...sorry.”
There’s a long, awkward silence filled only with distant music from the bar and the sound of street traffic.
Sam steels himself to look up.
Finn and Puck look at each other for one more long moment, then back at Sam.
“You-”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Sam interrupts, slapping one hand over his heart. “I swear.”
Puck holds up his hands. “It’s okay,” he says, strangely calm for a guy who was about to beat the shit out of someone and then got kissed instead. “I know. Sorry. I just...”
He turns away and Sam feels suddenly miserable because here are two guys, trying to make him feel welcome in this strange new town, and he repays them by fucking things up.
Finn steps towards him and Sam holds his hands up defensively, blocking his face. He winces as Finn’s hand reaches out and long fingers wrap around his wrist, pushes his hand down. Sam braces himself for the punch to land.
Instead Finn leans down and kisses him. It’s soft and sweet and Sam closes his eyes and enjoys it for a heartbeat or two, before turning his head and pushing Finn away.
“What the fuck?” he demands, but it’s fuelled by confusion, not anger.
Finn shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away, over at Puck.
“I didn’t...we didn’t know you were, uh...” Puck clears his throat and gives Sam a meaningful look.
“Oh,” Sam says. He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess...there was a guy.”
Finn looks curious, like he’s about to ask a whole bunch of questions Sam would really prefer not to answer, so he hurriedly says, “I didn’t know you guys were together.”
Puck gives a nervous bark of laughter and Finn shakes his head quickly, eyes wide.
“We’re not!” Finn says. “I mean. No, it’s not like that. We’re not gay or anything.”
His words are too quick, too clipped, and Sam knows exactly what’s going through Finn’s head, and maybe Puck’s too. Sam isn’t even sure if he’s got it all figured out, but he’s always assumed that he’s not supposed to understand all of this shit, all of these labels they’re supposed to wear, when he’s only sixteen.
“Okay,” Sam says, and there’s another awkward silence.
“We just...you know,” Puck shrugs. “Sometimes it’s good to help a bro out.”
“Oh,” Sam says, nodding slowly. He doesn’t totally get it, but if Finn and Puck prefer ‘friends with benefits’ to ‘boyfriends’ it isn’t Sam’s place to make thinks awkward by saying anything.
Finn gives Puck a long hard stare and Sam turns his head in time to catch Puck’s chin jerk up, just a little.
“You, uh, you could join us sometimes if you wanted,” Finn says, carefully not meeting Sam’s eyes. “If you needed helping out, I mean. It’s what bros do for each other, right?”
Sam bites his lip to stop his smile. “Thanks,” he says. “Maybe I’ll take you up on the offer sometime.”
Finn grins, wide and genuine and it makes Sam want to laugh because it’s so different from the awkward, stuttering Finn from just moments earlier. He glances over at Puck, catching him giving Sam an appraising look. He looks away so quickly when he sees Sam watching him that Sam’s surprised he doesn’t get whiplash.
It’s all kind of ridiculous, the fumbling inability of any of them being able to say ‘I want’ but Sam gets it, understands it better than they probably realise.
And the ache is still there inside him, something that disappeared at least for a moment when he’d been kissing them.
Later Sam plans on blaming the tequila but everything’s just fucked up enough that there’s really nothing to lose. And at least no one will ever find out, because there’s no way anyone in the alley is going to say anything. So he won’t get dragged away from Lima before he can settle in.
“Like, maybe now?” Sam says, trying to sound more confident than hopeful. He’s got nothing to lose, but he crosses his fingers subtly just in case.
Finn’s head snaps up in surprise and Puck only has a moment to say, “Fuck, yeah,” before Sam is shoving Puck up against the wall, one hand behind Puck’s neck as he kisses him.
It’s the same desperate need as before, but this time Puck is kissing back and his hands are sliding down Sam’s back and underneath the waistband of his jeans to pull their bodies flush against each other.
Sam’s heard the rumours, of course, about Puck being a ladies’ man and something about him stealing Finn’s girlfriend and knocking her up- something he’s almost afraid to ask anyone at school about because he doesn’t want to be that guy who goes around gossiping about people he’s trying to be friends with- but he hadn’t expected Puck to be as good as everyone said.
“Not bad, new guy,” Puck says, when Sam pushes away, turning to see Finn watching them.
He’s frowning a little, and the guilt washes over Sam like a slap of cold water, chasing away any warmth he’d gained from Puck’s kiss, from his touch.
It doesn’t matter that Finn and Puck insist there’s nothing serious between them. Sam knows that look on Finn’s face, knows it with the sting of a still unhealed wound. Sam never wants to be the cause of that look.
“I’m sorry,” Sam says quickly, falling over himself to get the apology out as quickly as possible. “I didn’t, I mean, I don’t think this-”
Puck looks confused, and Sam doesn’t blame him. As soon as Puck turns in Finn’s direction, Finn’s face is carefully blank and all Puck can see is some new dude chickening out.
Puck steps back, and Sam pushes down the regret inside him and meets Finn’s gaze levelly.
“Finn,” he starts to say, because he needs an excuse, doesn’t want to ruin the moment when Finn will tell Puck he loves him by spilling it all out now.
Finn shakes his head though, cutting Sam off and pulls him away from the wall.
Sam can’t help the “Whoa!” that starts to escape from his lips in surprise, and then finds himself swallowing the rest of the word as Finn’s mouth crushes onto his, pulling Sam in tight enough against his chest that all of the wind knocks out of him and he can only kiss Finn back for a few seconds before turning his head to gasp for air.
Sam sees Puck watching them, a roguish smirk on his face, arms folded like he’s enjoying what he’s seeing, but then Finn dips his face to Sam’s neck, lips tickling against his ear as he whispers, “It’s okay, we want this. We both want this, I swear.”
“Okay,” Sam whispers back, and Finn’s teeth scrape over his earlobe. It makes Sam’s toes curl up inside his sneakers and his limbs go a little bit limp. Who would have thought Finn would actually have moves?
Finn does it again and Sam can’t help responding with a moan. Finn tilts his head back and grins and maybe it’s the grin or the moan or maybe both in combination but it seems to be some sort of sign. There’s a warm body at Sam’s back suddenly, firm hands on his hips holding him in place as Finn slides his mouth down from Sam’s ear, down his neck to his collar bone.
Sam hisses as Finn’s teeth scrape along the bone there and he wonders how Finn could possibly know what that does to Sam.
Puck’s chest shakes against Sam’s back as he laughs.
“Oh, he going to like you,” Puck says. When Sam twists his neck to look back at him he continues. “Finn has a thing for biting. When we were kids he’d always win fights because he’d bite me until he’d leave tiny white teeth marks in my skin.”
Sam can’t imagine having that sort of history with someone, knowing someone their whole lives to know shit like that about them, anecdotes to so casually throw into conversation.
“It’s not your thing?” Sam asks and Puck screws up his face, shaking his head.
“Nope, but Finnessa here fights like a girl- biting and scratching and slapping- so he loves doing that shit.”
“Fuck you,” Finn says, narrowing his eyes at Puck and stepping to the side enough to punch Puck in the kidney.
Puck wheezes against Sam’s back, clinging to his hip tighter, but his smile grows wider.
“He’s feisty too,” Puck adds.
Sam grins back. He likes the way Puck is selling Finn to Sam, making sure to point out points of interest but trying to make out like he doesn’t love these things about his friend. Sam wonders if Puck realises how much the light insults really speak volumes about his feelings.
“Let’s get this show really started,” Puck says impatiently, reaching around from behind to undo the front of Sam’s jeans.
Sam pushes his hands away.
“Not that,” he says. “Not yet. How about this?”
He sinks to his knees slowly, staring up at Puck and Finn who look at each other then down at him.
“Figure I should repay you for taking me under your wing,” Sam says. “Besides, you did ask me how many balls I could fit in my mouth.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
He’s kidding of course- although he’s never tried it so maybe he would be able to take them both in. It isn’t exactly what he has in mind anyway, and he just hopes Puck won’t be too disappointed.
Sam hooks his fingers into one of Finn’s belt loops, tugging him in closer. Beside him, Puck is already undoing his own belt, taking his time sliding the leather through metal then easing the zipper down slowly. His eyes are fixed on Sam’s hand at Finn’s waist, and so Sam reaches out and tugs downward.
Finn’s jeans are loose enough that it doesn’t take much for Sam to ease them down, leaving Finn in just his boxers.
Sam glances at Puck, who has stopped with his fly halfway down. Sam can already see that Puck’s going commando underneath, which doesn’t really surprise him. Puck seems like a guy who has ‘easy access’ as a personal motto.
“Come on,” Puck growls impatiently and Sam smiles slowly, running his fingertips just above the waistband of Finn’s boxers, tugging the elastic out and snapping it back lightly.
It makes Finn jump and Puck laughs causing Sam to switch his attention to Puck’s face as he finally eases the light fabric down Finn’s thighs. It’s a good call, and he gets to see Puck’s eyes go from crinkled amusement to naked hunger.
“Do Finn first,” Puck says, voice low, and Sam complies.
He pushes Finn’s shirt up, bunching the hem in his hand as he rests it on Finn’s stomach. It gives him easy access to Finn’s dick, hard and ready for him.
Sam licks his lips in preparation and catches the mirrored movement as he glances back up at Puck.
He tries to keep his eyes on Puck as he wraps his hand around the base of Finn’s dick and fits his mouth over the head.
Sam has only ever done this with one guy, and he tries not to think about it too much anymore. He’d expected it to be weird, to be too similar or too different but instead it’s a nice mixture of familiarity and excitement at doing this with Finn for the first time.
Finn groans encouragingly and Sam leans back, sliding his tongue up the length then sucking Finn back into his mouth to move in time with his hand.
The differences are a fun learning curve- the pleasing realisation that a swirl of his tongue in just the right spot makes Finn swear under his breath, that letting his fingers slide back just enough to graze Finn’s balls makes Finn’s thigh muscles shudder, that just the right amount of pressure at the base makes Finn’s hips jerk forward suddenly.
Sam feels oddly sober now, like the adrenaline from doing this has burnt all the alcohol in his system away. It means he’s more aware of his senses- the musky scent of teenage boy, the subtle saltiness of Finn’s precome on his tongue, the heat from Finn’s skin contrasted with the cool chill of the night air.
Sam takes a deep breath and takes Finn in a bit deeper. It’s nothing very impressive but the movement makes Finn moan and his hand lands on the top of Sam’s head.
His fingers dig into Sam’s scalp, and Sam almost starts laughing at the idea that the best head massage he’s ever had is happening in the middle of a three way blowjob hook up in a harshly lit alleyway. Weird and possibly lame things always amuse him at the strangest moments.
Sam can tell Finn is getting close so he reaches out, resting his hand on Puck’s thigh for a moment then sliding his hand up. He wants this, all of this, all of them, to be connected.
He pushes past Puck’s hand, knocking it aside so that the jeans Puck had been holding up fall down and Sam has easy access. Without turning to look he takes Puck’s dick in his hand and begins to stroke, lightly at first until Puck’s dick is fully erect. He picks up the pace, matching it to his mouth and other hand on Finn’s dick, then stops, leaning away from Finn and turning to Puck.
Sam looks up as he does, finding Finn’s hand on Puck’s shoulder for support.
Puck grins down at Sam just as Finn says, “Hey, no fair, I’m not done,” and Sam rubs his lips over the head of Puck’s dick.
He doesn’t open up and take Puck in, not yet. Instead he mouths along the length, dragging his tongue back up slowly.
Sam looks up as he slides Puck’s dick between his lips, watching Puck watch him. Beside him, Finn shuffles in closer so he can watch too.
“Your mouth is made for fucking,” Puck says, and Sam jerks in surprise. He’d been told that before and hearing Puck say the words makes the memories flood back.
“Are you okay?” Finn asks, peering down at him in concern.
Sam takes a second then shrugs it off. “Yeah, of course,” he says, and pushes aside thoughts of another boy’s hands in his hair, another dick sliding heavily over his tongue. This isn’t about him. Sam’s put all that behind him, moved on. This is about Sam and Puck and Finn.
Sam sucks Puck back into his mouth, rubbing his thumb over the head of Finn’s dick as he does so. Finn’s standing so close to Puck now that there’s not much room for Sam to manoeuvre and his hand on Finn’s dick brushes his own cheek as he slides Puck in and out of his mouth.
Gravel digs into Sam’s knees, even through the thick denim covering them, but he doesn’t mind. It feels good to be doing this. Not just the blow jobs even though Sam really does enjoy giving them, but the whole being part of something. It’s something he’s missed and he’d hardly expected guys like Puck and Finn to give a new kid the time of day, let alone this.
There’s a soft noise above him and Sam rolls his eyes up to see Puck and Finn kissing, still leaning against each other to remain upright. It’s sweet and Sam would worry about intruding into a moment, if he didn’t have a dick in each hand.
He twists his wrist slightly, making Finn gasp against Puck’s mouth. Finn’s hand moves to settle on the back of Sam’s head again, fingers winding in Sam’s hair. It takes Sam a moment to figure out that Finn is trying to move his head, controlling the speed he bobs his head up and down on Puck’s dick. Sam lets Finn move him, pushing him in almost too far then pulling him back again. It stings a little, where Finn’s got a tight grasp on his hair, but Sam isn’t going to complain.
Above Sam, Puck lets out a shuddery breath. “I’m really close,” he says, “I’m gonna-” and that’s almost all the warning Sam gets. Except it isn’t Puck coming, it’s Finn, Finn’s come hitting the side of Sam’s face. It surprises Sam into a silent laugh.
He tries to pull off Puck so he can wipe his face, but the vibrations from his laughter must be doing it for Puck because a thumb rubs against his cheekbone, hand cupping his cheek.
“Sam,” Puck says, and comes across Sam’s tongue and lips.
Sam swallows, stilling his head until Puck’s finished and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Here,” Puck says after a few moments, reaching down and rubbing at Sam’s cheek with the hem of his shirt.
“I don’t want to ruin your shirt,” Sam protests, trying to turn away, and Puck snorts.
“Not like it’s the first time that’s happened,” Finn says, stumbling when Puck shoves him away. They laugh, and Finn’s shirt sleeve swipes at Sam’s cheek too until he’s clean.
“Thanks,” Sam says, watching as Finn pulls his boxers and jeans up in one go, while Puck does his fly up carefully.
Finn reaches down and offers a hand, pulling Sam to his feet.
Sam brushes his knees off, wincing a little when he realises his foot’s started to go to sleep. Finn frowns, concerned.
“You okay?” he asks and Puck makes an incredulous noise.
“Of course he isn’t,” Puck says, and Sam is about to protest because, really, he’s doing awesomely, but Puck continues. “He just got us off and we’re leaving him hanging with a major case of blue balls. Not cool.”
“Oh,” Finn says, nodding decisively and pushing Sam back against the wall. He smiles and it’s kind of dorky, but kind of hot at the same time. Sam doesn’t know how he manages that, but he likes it.
“We should return the favour,” Finn tells him, placing a hand either side of Sam’s head and leaning in for a kiss. His tongue licks into Sam’s mouth and Sam wonders if Finn can taste Puck there, if he recognises the flavour.
When Finn pulls back his grin is wide. He winks, then eagerly drops down to his knees in front of Sam.
“Need a hand?” Puck asks as Finn fumbles with the top button on Sam’s jeans. He doesn’t wait for an answer, just slips his hand under Sam’s waistband and down to cup him gently.
“Uh,” Sam gasps and Puck smirks wickedly as Sam’s dick is freed from its confines.
“Watch this,” Puck orders and Sam looks down in time to see Puck feed his dick into Finn’s mouth.
“Oh god,” Sam moans as he’s engulfed in the wet heat of Finn’s mouth.
Puck gives Sam a self satisfied smile. “Gods,” he corrects, and slides down until he’s kneeling beside Finn.
As Sam watches, Puck leans in, almost bumping heads with Finn, to flick his tongue against the base of Sam’s dick then lower to his balls.
The feeling of two mouths on him is almost too much, yet at the same time Sam wants even more. He wants to reach down and pull them in closer, to thrust his hips and slide further into the warmth.
He knows if he watches he’s not going to last long. And he wants to savour this moment, in case it never happens again. So Sam closes his eyes and tips his head back against the wall. He focuses on the sensation, smiling at how he can’t tell who’s who anymore.
Sam bites his lip to stifle the moans that want to escape and breathes as slow and steadily as he can manage, desperate to hold on as long as possible. He can tell neither Finn nor Puck are strangers to having a dick in their mouths, but he wonders if they’ve ever done this before, double teaming another guy. Neither of them say a word but they still seem to be able to work together to tease Sam almost to the brink before backing off again. They do it again, and then again and Sam’s about to beg for more or for release, he doesn’t know, when one of them does something.
It’s a movement of a finger or a tongue or maybe a combination of both and Sam comes hard and without warning. His legs feel like jelly and he’s glad he has the wall to support him as someone’s hand milks him through the orgasm until he’s done.
“Wow,” Sam breathes, hands still flat against the rough brick to ground himself.
“Welcome to Lima, new kid,” Puck says, getting to his feet and wiping at his mouth.
Finn jumps up beside him, looking almost anxious until Sam says, “That was amazing.”
Finn smiles in relief, and Sam grins back, pulling his pants up. He fumbles with the fastenings, hands still shaking a little.
“Thanks,” he says, smiling wide as he waits a beat or two then asks, “So, what else do you crazy kids do for fun around here?”
Finn laughs and Puck smirks and Sam shoves his hands into his pockets and tries not to grin like an idiot because this is the best welcoming committee he could have asked for.
“Come on,” Puck says, thumbing down the alley towards the road. “The night is young. We’ll show you.”
Sam smiles and follows as the walk down the alley, Finn’s shoulders hunched against the cold air, Puck kicking at a stray beer can.
This thing with Puck and Finn, whatever they want to call it and whatever it turns out to be, isn’t going to make Sam forget things from before, but it’s more than a good enough distraction. Maybe, Sam thinks, being dragged away from things and brought to Lima is going to be better than he’d thought.