Warning: This fic contains light bondage.

Somewhere Other Than A Closet

As the school year progressed, Finn got over his anger at Puck and they began hanging out again, just like old times. More frequently Puck would bring over beer that some sympathetic soul would offer to buy him as he stood, freezing in the winter air, outside the 7-Eleven. They'd drink up in Finn's basement room, Kurt's things strangely haunting on the lifeless, empty side of the room.

Puck wouldn't usually pour out so much money for alcohol, but Finn had needed it lately. The poor sap wouldn't stop moping about how his stupidity had chased Kurt out of McKinley, even though that totally wasn't the case. It was all Karofsky's fault and the decision was Kurt's. Most of the time the beer would pull Finn out of his rut and he and Puck would have a good time playing videos or watching movies.

This particular night, though, it wasn't working. Finn was just getting more depressed with each sip. "Dude, you gotta lighten up," Puck slurred, laughing at Finn.

Big (pathetic) puppy dog eyes looked up at Puck, who stood and crossed over onto "Kurt's side" (that's what Finn would call it). Panicking, Finn stood, grabbed Puck's arm roughly, and stopped him. "No, you can't go over there," he pleaded.

Puck needed to get Finn to lighten up, so he didn't stop. He wrenched his arm out of the taller boy's grip and strode over to a coatrack where several of Kurt's scarves hung. Smirking, Puck pulled one off the rack and wrapped it around his neck. He started singing in a falsetto voice, "I'm Kurt Hummel! I like boys and I'm your step-brother but I want to fuuuuuuuuuck youuuuuu!"

Finn just stared at Puck, caught between confusion and anger. "You're drunk, dude," Finn muttered.

"You bet your ass I am," Puck sighed, leaving the scarf on and making his way to Kurt's closet.

Taking a deep breath, Finn summoned the courage to walk over to Kurt's side of the room. He was acting like Kurt had died or something and quite frankly, Puck was sick of it. Puck disappeared into the massive room that was Kurt's closet and emerged moments later with a huge, mischievous grin on his face.

Finn's eyes bulged when he saw what Puck was wearing. He had shed his sweatshirt that was covering his plain white tank top and instead taken a liking to something from the back of Kurt's closet. A navy blue blazer with red trimmings and a yuppie school crest on the chest pocket adorned Puck's broad shoulders. It was pulled tight, but not as tight as Finn would have expected. He had probably put on one of the blazers Kurt still had to take to the tailor's. It didn't reach around to button in front, but Puck was still wearing it. Finn wanted to kick himself at the thought, but damn did Puck look good in that blazer. Smirking, Puck asked, "You like?"

"That's Kurt's," Finn muttered lamely. "You can't wear that."

Puck just held out his arms and said, "Yes I can."

Finn looked angry and started tugging at the blazer, trying to get it off his friend's tanned skin and back in the closet where it belonged. Puck fought back and in a myriad of limbs, punches, and rolls, they ended up on the floor of the closet, Finn pinning Puck down, the blazer still entirely on the mohawked boy. Deciding to continue with the mocking, Puck adorned his high-pitched Kurt voice again and said, "Oh no! Whatever will I do? My horrible teacher has me pinned to the ground and I secretly want him!"

With the final words, Puck thrust upward, his groin making sweet contact with Finn's. Finn tried to fight it, but he could feel himself getting hard. "I've been bad, teacher," Puck said, his voice halfway down to its normal register. "What's my punishment gonna be?"

Finn tried to fight it. He even managed a weak, "You gotta stop this, dude. This is Kurt's closet and he'll freak if he finds us in here."

"Oh no, I guess I broke the rules," Puck said, but his voice was anything but sorry.

Finn hadn't moved from his place above Puck, legs entangled and strong hands pinning Puck's to the floor. One more well aimed grind from below and Finn couldn't fight it anymore. Puck smirked triumphantly; he could always figure out a way to get Finn to do what he wanted, or at least to get him to relax. But when Finn ground down upon him and said, "Yeah, you broke the rules," dangerously in his ear, Puck was a little surprised.

Smirking, he said, "Get off me."

Finn didn't listen, though. He kept Puck held down to the floor with surprising strength. "You're right, you should be punished," Finn growled.

For a moment Puck was scared, but then he realized who he was dealing with. This was Finn Hudson, total wimp and closet homophobe. If this was how he wanted to play things, Puck could go with it. He'd get a little action and Finn would wimp out before going all the way; it would be harmless. "What do you suggest?" Puck whispered back to Finn.

As he ground down upon the tan boy, the scarf that was loosely tied around Puck's neck tickled him and Finn got an idea. Releasing Puck's arms and sitting up on his lap, Finn loosened the knot on the scarf and slid it away from Puck. Things were going better than Puck expected; Finn had wimped out sooner than he thought. His hands ran along Finn's thighs that were pinning him tightly to the ground, trying to relax the boy so he could get out from underneath him.

But then Finn grabbed Puck's wrists again and shit got serious. Clumsy alcohol-hazed fingers wove the scarf between Puck's wrists. "What the fuck, dude?" Puck muttered.

"Shut up," Finn said firmly, crawling towards the thin post of a shelf behind Puck and tying the scarf to it.

His junk was dangerously close to Puck's face and that shit was not happening. If anyone was getting a blow job, it was Puck. He struggled at the knot but Finn was apparently more skilled at them than he had been in Cub Scouts years ago. The metal shelf housing far too many pairs of men's shoes didn't even budge as Puck struggled at it. Thin, delicate fabric showed no kindness to his wrists, either. It kind of hurt to struggle so he stopped. With anyone else, Puck would have been turned on.

Or, as Finn pointed out next, with Finn Hudson, being tied up would have turned Puck on, because it did. Finn's hands had pulled down Puck's jeans and exposed the growing hardness within them. "You like being tied up, don't you, you whore?" Finn asked menacingly.

Puck froze. Where the hell did that come from! One minute Finn was a bumbling, emotional boy and the next he was tying up Puck and jerking him off in his step-brother's closet. Several statements pointing out the irony and hilarity of that statement forced their way into Puck's mind, but were chased right back out with the feeling of a warm mouth on his dick.

It wasn't a bad feeling, but it was strange. Puck was used to girls with their tiny mouths and their fingernails and the general shyness they all had (except Santana). Finn was the opposite in every way. He fit more of Puck in his mouth than should have been humanly possible and those rough callouses on his hands were turning on Puck more than they should have. Not to mention he seemed pretty damn eager.

When he stopped, Puck was almost sure that Finn was about to chicken out. But then he spotted the smirk on Finn's face and followed Finn's stare to a tiny bottle lying forgotten under a shelf. Clumsy hands reached under to grab it and his smirk grew. If Finn was holding what Puck thought he was, things were about to get out of control, and probably not in a good way.

A quick pop of the cap and Puck's heart dropped. His stomach turned to knots and he watched as Finn coated his fingers in the clear, slick substance. His other hand tugged Puck's jeans further out of the way and the mohawked boy did all he could to fight it. If this is what Finn wanted to do, there's no way in hell Puck was going to make it easy. Smirking, Puck tried to scoot away.

Puck was banking on Finn's inebriation to help him out, but apparently that wasn't going to work. Finn's fingers found Puck's ass much too quickly and in an effort to stop him, Finn pressed a finger in quickly. "Fuck!" Puck shouted the breach sending a shooting pain through his body.

Moving his finger in and out mercilessly, Finn shrugged and said, "You went into Kurt's things. You broke the rules. This is your punishment."

"You're going to fuck me as punishment?" Puck scoffed. "Sorry, dude, but the sex shark sees that as a reward."

Roughly, Finn shoved in a second finger and Puck hissed in pain. "You have no control," Finn said, his voice dangerously low. "I can do whatever I want and you have to lay there and take it."

Puck didn't speak. Finn had a point, and that second finger had hurt. He didn't want to push Finn; in his drunken state he probably wouldn't realize he was hurting Puck. Two fingers moved in and out until a third was pressed in without warning. Finn's fingers weren't small and it took all of Puck's self-control not to cry out in pain. He didn't make a sound until one of Finn's fingers found that spot inside him he'd read about once (thanks to Finn, ironically enough…but he couldn't remember the name of it) and he let out a deep moan. Finn laughed at the reaction Puck had and much too soon, Finn's fingers were gone.

It was a strange feeling; Puck was all stretched now and was actually sort of enjoying it, even though his best friend, a dude, had been fucking Puck with his fingers. When he finally managed to open his eyes, Puck found Finn above him, completely naked. "Why do you get to be naked?" Puck asked. "This jacket is fucking warm."

"Deal with it," Finn shrugged.

Puck's dick was pulsing and he needed to get off. As much as he loathed admitting it, he wanted Finn to fuck him. He hadn't gone through all that stretching for nothing. But he was fucking warm. "Dude, Kurt will be pissed if I get his jacket all gross," he argued.

"You look sexy in it so the jacket stays on, end of story," Finn said roughly, slicking up his dick.

Puck watched and shouldn't have been turned on. It was so wrong. Seeing Finn get off was strange; his face was rather unattractive, but knowing that he made Finn feel that way was oddly satisfying. And sexy. He shook his head to get rid of his thoughts and instantly regretted it. Finn saw and asked, "You don't want this?"

Puck said nothing. He did, but he wouldn't admit it. Finn was already on a power trip, he didn't need one more thing to use against him. Closing his eyes, Puck braced himself for what he was sure was coming. He was surprised when he felt breath on his neck. Finn breathed heavily for a moment before whispering, "You shouldn't have broken the rules then."

And then oh god Finn was pressing into him and Puck held his breath. He tried repeating to himself that this was wrong and gay and what if someone caught them! But then Finn pulled out a little before thrusting himself the rest of the way in and he let out a breath and a groan. Puck felt so full. He was in a little pain but mostly he wanted Finn to do that again.

No words were exchanged, but Finn knew exactly what Puck wanted anyway. He thrust in and out, skin slapping skin and breathing heavy. Puck grasped at the post of the shelf he was tied to with both hands, the combination of pain and pleasure almost too much for him to handle. His knuckles turned white as Finn pushed him closer and closer to the edge with each thrust.

Finn's face was screwed up in pleasure and concentration as he relentlessly fucked Finn, his sudden burst of courage and energy rendering him speechless. Puck let out a groan before white hot liquid spurted up onto his chest. Finn let out a chuckle as he realized Puck had finished before him. That was definitely a tale to be told. "Dude…" Puck muttered.

Finn's roughness kind of hurt now; he was sensitive and needed rest. Not to mention he was really fucking warm and needed to get out of Kurt's jacket before he left sweat stains. "'m not done," Finn grunted.

But a few thrusts later, Finn reached his peak and he let out a satisfied groan. "Dude, gross," Puck complained as Finn pulled out of him.

"You liked it," Finn shrugged, climbing off of Puck and lying down on the floor next to him.

They laid there for a moment, catching their breaths. "Would you fucking untie me, dude? This scarf kind of hurts," Puck muttered.

"Well if you would have just gone along with it…" Finn trailed off.

He lazily rolled over and fumbled with the knot. "You wouldn't have gotten that out of your system," Puck shrugged.

"Thanks dude," Finn shrugged, sitting up and tossing the scarf to the side.

He began dressing and Puck did the same before removing the jacket and tossing it to the side. Finn sighed and walked out to where his half-finished beer sat waiting for him. Puck hid in the bathroom for much too long.

A slam of a door upstairs caused Finn to jump and panic. Puck emerged from the bathroom, wincing and looking a little grossed out. "What was that?" he asked.

Kurt appeared down the staircase and he froze as he saw two dumbfounded teenage boys staring back at him. "What?" he asked. "Can't I come down to my own room?"

Sighing, Kurt began walking again and made his way across the room. Finn couldn't believe he'd forgotten that Kurt would be home that weekend! He was out shopping with Mercedes and had gotten back late. "It wreaks like beer down here," Kurt made a face, going directly to his closet.

Finn wanted to stop him and Puck looked frantic, but Kurt opened the door before either of them could protest. He turned on the light and froze not even a step inside his closet.

The smell of sex was overwhelming and their lack of cleaning skills made things horribly obvious to the owner of the closet. A wrinkled and slightly sweat-stained Dalton blazer lay haphazardly on the floor near his shoe rack, a fabulous scarf was crumpled up near the corner, and his bottle of lube lay in the middle of the floor.

Trying to remain calm, Kurt shut off the light, slammed the closet door shut, and stalked across the room. "Kurt…" Finn began lamely.

Casually, Kurt said, "I can't say I'm surprised, but next time you want creepy, kinky, schoolboy sex, please do it somewhere other than a closet." Making a face, he added, "That's just horribly cliché."