(Author's note: Welcome to the next installment of the Donutverse! This story runs concurrently with the end of Just That Side of True, and by the end, the two stories will merge. It also parallels events in the episodes Mattress (1.12) and Sectionals (1.13). However, as my deep loathing for most of the characterization in Mattress causes me to pretend it never existed, I won't be dealing much with the commercial-and-Thunderclap storyline. We'll just assume it happened, or didn't, and it won't make much difference for our boys, all right? In the meantime, enjoy the story. Kudos if you can find the source of the title. –amy)

Puck woke in the middle of the night, but, for a change, he couldn't recall any dreams. The moon made a long stripe down the center of the room, shining through the window beside the bed. He sat up, looking around Finn's guest room. He'd been staying here most nights, now that Sarah had taken up residence in Kurt's extra bedroom. It was strange, to wake up and have no one to talk to, because Sarah was at the Hummel's. He wondered if she was awake.

He got up and pulled on his boxers and wandered down the hall toward Finn's room. The clock read 3:38. With one finger, he touched the pictures of little Finn and a younger Carole that lined the walls of the hallway. There were no pictures of Finn with his father. It had just been the two of them, his whole life – and now, all of a sudden, there was Puck, and Sarah, and Kurt and Burt, who frequently filled the house to crowded. He wondered what Finn thought about that. Maybe he loved it; maybe he was annoyed by it. He didn't know.

He wondered when he'd gone from knowing everything about Finn to not being able to read him. Finn had changed in the past weeks. It was true, it was mostly to his benefit, considering the changes included some of the hottest, most satisfying sex of his (admittedly broad and varied) sex life. His eyes closed involuntarily as he thought of Finn, pressing him down into the bed on top of Kurt, spreading him open; not to mention Finn in the boys' room at school, talking him to orgasm without one touch – he shuddered, palming his cock through his boxers. Definitely hot.

But it was the other part, the part that he had trouble looking at too closely, except when he was in the thick of it – this was the part that was making him tremble inside and his breath catch – that involved letting go, giving up all the control to someone else, letting him drive the scene, and taking him places in his head and heart and cock and ass that made him feel - He laughed a little to himself. Unbelievable, he thought. But there it was.

He'd never been one to deny himself something he wanted, but now it was becoming increasingly clear, every day, that he wanted Kurt, and Finn, in ways he hadn't even realized were part of him. His lips curled up in a faint smile. They were part of him, those two boys, as much as Sarah was. As much as his – his –

He wasn't going to think about her.

He pushed Finn's door open a crack and peered inside at the unmoving lump that was his best friend. Finn had always slept hard. For a moment he thought about getting his guitar and playing one of the pieces he'd written recently, but then he saw Finn stir in sleep, and one long, hairy leg dipped from under the cotton comforter, and he was drawn to touch that leg, stroke his hand up and down along its familiar length. It was a heady feeling, to know he could now touch Finn anywhere he wanted, in just about any way, and he would be welcome.

He pulled the comforter back just enough, and slid in next to Finn on the narrow bed. Finn shifted again in his sleep, making a low, wordless noise of approval, and threw an arm across Puck's middle. Puck realized he was shivering, and huddled closer against Finn's body. Finn radiated warmth like a fucking furnace.

He allowed his eyes to close, and thought again of Sarah, alone at Kurt's house. He hoped Kurt would be there for her if she needed him.

Kurt woke in the night to the sound of bright, cheerful music. When he stumbled into the basement family room, he saw Sarah huddled on the couch, wrapped in her fleece blanket, eyes fixed on the cartoon characters moving on the screen. His eyebrow went up. "Really?" he said, his voice raspy in the waking dawn.

"I love early Bugs Bunny," she admitted. "So shoot me."

He padded over in bare feet to sit on the couch beside her, smiling at the antics of the Rabbit of Seville. "Have you seen What's Opera, Doc?" he asked, pulling her into the crook of his arm. She snuggled in and wrapped the blanket tighter around her feet, sighing.

"That one comes later," she said. "After the bullfighting one."

They watched in silence for a while, not even humming along to the familiar score. "Do you play an instrument?" Kurt asked at one point.

"Guitar, and bass," she said, "only a little, but I want to do it more. And flute, for, like, three weeks. It was totally lame."

"I used to take piano lessons," he said. "For six years. I really liked it."

She watched his face in the flickering light of the television. "Why don't you anymore?"

"I guess I had too many other things to do." He pursed his lips. "Glee kind of took its place this year. But I'm kind of missing the lessons."

"If you take lessons, you could teach me," she suggested. "That would be awesome."

Kurt considered the old spinnet piano upstairs in the front room, which hardly ever got touched anymore. "I'm definitely interested," he said. "I just don't know if I have time for one more thing."

"There's always time for things that make your heart happy," she said, and she put a hand on his chest. He covered it up with one of his.

"You make mine happy," he whispered.

"Yeah," she said. "Me too. It's nice having four older brothers."

He chuckled, feeling the warmth of her little hand through his t-shirt. "You know you're probably the only little sister in the whole world who would say that?"

She shrugged. "They just don't know what they're missing."

1 text – Santana X. Lopez

6:44 am – Meet me in our room for breakfast? I missed you last night.

Puck grinned around his toothbrush at Kurt's text. He spit in the sink, then texted back: me too He paused, feeling a little flutter in his stomach, then added: baby.

There was no response while Puck shaved his head and trimmed his mohawk, and he was wondering if he should feel nervous about that when he received: That did something to me.

Oh, yeah? He cupped the phone as, walking slowly down the hall to Finn's room, he tried not to be a total loser and stand around waiting for Kurt to text back.

Finn was sitting on the bed, tying his shoes. His smile was soft. "Dude," he said. "Waking up to find you, in my bed this morning. That was… awesome."

"I couldn't sleep," Puck said, grinning. "I figured you wouldn't mind."

"Mind is not the word I was thinking of." He glanced at the phone in Puck's hand. "What's that?"

Puck sat on the bed next to Finn, holding out the phone, feeling inexplicably nervous. As Finn read their text history, Kurt sent back, Something about that word from you.

Finn's smile faded slightly, and he looked inquisitively at Puck. "You're still calling him that."

"Not usually," Puck said. "It just… slipped out." He averted his eyes until Finn took his chin and brought him around to kiss him. He let out a moan, feeling Finn's tongue stroke his palate, and he let himself go, to feel the intensity and trust that only Finn could inspire in him. When their kiss broke, Finn held his gaze, and he was smiling.

"It's good," Finn said. "Don't worry. If Kurt wants it from you, it's good. Didn't you teach me this? No hiding, no lies. Right?"

"Yeah," he said, unable to look away. "I just – god. I love him so much. I don't know where it came from, but it's – kind of awesome."

"I know," Finn said. "I love him too." He touched Puck's arm reassuringly. "I'm not upset about that. What you have, it's different from what we have, but that doesn't mean one is better than the other." He indicated the phone. "You need to tell him."

Puck considered the screen of his phone, then replied, quickly, I want you to be my baby.

"Nice," said Finn, and his breath came a little faster. He stroked a hand down Puck's shoulder, to his arm, and ended by gripping his hand. They waited together for Kurt's reply.

"I kind of feel like I just proposed or something," Puck whispered. Finn laughed nervously.

"If you're going to do that, let me know first, would you?" Finn whispered back, squeezing Puck's hand tighter. "So I can start saving up for a ring. Uh, two rings."

Puck almost dropped the phone. He stared at Finn in naked astonishment. Before he could say anything, the phone buzzed in his hand, and they both looked automatically.

God, Noah, I can't think of anything I want more. But we should probably talk to Finn about it, don't you think?

Puck felt the smile overtake his lips, and Finn laughed again. Then Finn's hands were stroking his face, and Puck was drawn into his mouth again, gasping at the force of it.

"Okay, Finn, you'd better get – oh." Carole's surprised expression at the door was mirrored by their own, and Finn cleared his throat, leaning away from Puck and straightening his shirt. "Good morning, Puck," she said. "I thought – when I saw the bed already made, I thought you'd gone."

"Hi, Mrs. – Carole," Puck said.

She smiled faintly at their stricken looks. "It's okay," she said. "I just didn't know you were here. Where are you guys tonight?"

"Kurt's," Finn said. "Mercedes is coming over. You can come for dinner, if you want. Puck's making alfredo."

"I think… I might have plans," Carole said.

"Really?" said Finn, with a little too much enthusiasm, and Carole shot him a tolerant grin.

"Maybe," she replied firmly. "Let's get a move on, okay? I don't want you guys to be late for school."

Puck wasn't surprised to find Kurt waiting for him in their attic room at school, but he didn't expect the spread he found – or the table it was on. "Where'd you swipe this?" Puck said, impressed, and ran a hand along its pitted wooden surface. Kurt preened.

"PTO thrift shop," he said. "Finn helped me bring it up yesterday while you were at social services with Dad." He leaned across the table with a kiss, then handed Puck a plate with a ham and egg sandwich on a croissant. Puck accepted with more hunger than he'd expected to have. Most mornings these days, he was vaguely nauseated, but not today.

"Thanks," he said, holding up the sandwich. He took a bite. "That's not bad."

"Big of you," Kurt said, but his eyes gleamed over his coffee mug. He watched Puck eat the rest of the sandwich, and then he cleared his throat.

"That… what you said this morning?" Kurt touched his heart, a question on his face. Puck nodded. "You really want that?"

"Yeah," Puck said. "I'm not sure where it's coming from, but I want it."

Kurt's eyes were steady and thoughtful. "Finn…"

"Was there," Puck insisted. "He wants us to have it."

The blue eyes widened a fraction, and Kurt looked almost frightened, but he just said, "And what does this mean for us? Do you still want me to take care of you?"

"Yeah," Puck said quietly. "I still want that." He put a hand out across the ancient, pock-marked wooden surface of the table, and Kurt took it. "Maybe sometimes, though, I can… take care of you."

"Noah." Kurt's word was little more than breath.

"There's a word for it," Puck said. "Alex told me: switch."

"Like, on… and off?" Kurt said, puzzled.

Puck hesitated, then stood, came around the table, and knelt before Kurt. "Like, Top… and bottom," he said, and laid his head in Kurt's lap. Kurt's breath caught, and he put his hand on Puck's head, stroking it.

"This is mostly how I feel, when I'm with you," Puck went on, his voice muffled. "I need this."

"I need it, too, sweetheart," Kurt whispered. His fingers traced the shape of Puck's ear, making him shiver. "So much."

"But sometimes I want other things," said Puck. "I figured you'd understand, because you're like that. With Finn, and me. Right?"

"Yeah," Kurt agreed. "But – wouldn't it be confusing, to have it, you know, both ways with me? With one person?" He paused, wondering. "How would we know?"

Puck sat up, gazing at Kurt, and moved in a little closer, kneeling between his legs. He kissed Kurt, gently, then more insistently, and then finally, following that whispered drive inside him, rose to his feet. Kurt's gaze came up, startled, to meet Puck's, and his lips parted, letting out a tiny "oh" sound, at his expression.

"I think we'd know," Puck said, low and even.

Kurt's eyes flickered back and forth between Puck's mouth and his eyes. "I… think you might be right," he said, breath catching.

Puck's expression didn't change as he brought his hand up to cup Kurt's jaw firmly. "This," he said, and he felt a surge of sensation come over his skin, like an electric shock. It prickled in his hands and face and cock. He saw Kurt shudder. "You want this from me?"

"Do you?" Kurt challenged, thrusting his chin into Puck's hand. "You sure you can give it to me? You sure you want to?"

Puck's lips twitched at Kurt's response. He let his hand drop to Kurt's neck, and Puck felt him swallow. "Yeah, baby," he said, making his voice drop, too, deeper, rougher. "I want it." Kurt made a noise in his throat. It vibrated against Puck's palm. He tightened his fingers, ever so slightly, and Kurt swallowed again, convulsively.

Puck watched his eyes carefully. "It's not a game, you know," he warned. "Not for me. I can't… it can't be a game."

Kurt shook his head as Puck loosened his grip. "I'm not playing, Noah." His own hand came up to capture Puck's, and he cradled it gently. "Yes… I can… switch, with you. I can feel what you need, and I can give you that." He planted a kiss on Puck's hand; Puck felt his lips like a brand. "As long as you don't want it all the time."

"Want what all the time?" He pressed his hand back to Kurt's lips to receive another kiss.

"Either way, really." Kurt shrugged. "Sometimes I just want it to be, you know… just you and me. Just Kurt and Noah, without the power difference."

Puck shook his head. "I don't know, man. Sometimes I totally want to Top you, but mostly… I could imagine doing… that. Being your… sub." His face burned with the truth of his confession. "All the time. Like, 24-7."

He watched as Kurt's face went through several emotions, in quick succession. Finally, Puck leaned into Kurt's chest, and Kurt circled his shoulders with his arms. "I'm pretty sure I'd never get anything done if you were like that around me all the time," Kurt said, hoarsely, speaking into the skin of his neck. "I'd just want to be… making you do things to me all day."

A tremor went through them both, and they shook with the intensity of it. "God," Puck said, with a groan. "Fuck. Yeah. I'd like that."

"Not really conducive to getting to class on time, Noah," Kurt warned.

"Right. Sorry." He clutched his fists in Kurt's shirt, just for a moment. His voice came quickly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "Do you think we could – you and me, we could – do that sometime? Go out, somewhere, and be – like that?"

Kurt tried to puzzle out the meaning of what Puck was asking, and shook his head. "Sorry, I need more words than that. Try again?"

Puck clenched his teeth. "I guess it would have to be, like, another town – where no one knows us. But I've got this image of me, following you around wearing a – a collar, like a fucking puppy on a leash, and I can't get it out of my head." He shook his head, feeling a surge of anger. "Stupid, I know."

"No," Kurt whispered, holding Puck tighter in his arms. "Not stupid… dangerous, maybe. Hot, definitely."

Puck felt the breath leave him for a moment, then return. "You think that's hot?"

"God, Noah." Kurt tensed, his hips nudging forward in the chair of their own accord. Puck ran a hand along the seam of Kurt's tan pants, feeling the hot, hard pressure of his arousal. "Yes," he hissed. "I think that's fucking hot."

Puck groaned again, tugging at Kurt's zipper. "Please, baby… let me…?"

Kurt looked at his watch and bit his lip. "I don't think I could sit through chemistry like this anyway," he said, with a rueful laugh. "Thinking of you - way too distracting."

Kurt might have said more words, but Puck wasn't paying any attention to them; he was too absorbed in watching Kurt strip off his pants, revealing the creamier white of his pale thighs, his lightly furred calves, and even before the pants could come off his other leg, Puck was already kneeling there, his mouth hot and wet and insistent.

"Locked?" Kurt gasped, glancing at the door, his hands sliding across Puck's back and shoulders to rest lightly on his head. Puck felt the meaning of his hands more than he felt the pressure of them there: mine.

"Locked," Puck affirmed, and used his tongue to take away Kurt's power of speech. He reveled in that for a while, the music of Kurt's unashamed moans, but eventually he had to say something. He took Kurt's leaking cock in one hand and stroked him, speaking in a rush, knowing he would never have time to describe all the images in his head before Kurt was done, but needing to at least share this much.

"You said, the first time we did this, that you wanted… to dress me up," he said. "In leather, and take me out… show me off. Fuck, Kurt… I've jacked off to those words every day since then."

The sound Kurt made was scalding, like boiling water, and Puck found himself stroking himself roughly with his other hand, getting off on the pressure of the zipper of his jeans. He leaned down and took Kurt in his mouth, swallowing around the thickness in his throat, loving that feeling. I fucking crave it, he thought, and it was true. In this moment with Kurt, he could just about accept it was okay for him to want it that much.

Kurt called his name, twice, and that about finished him, but when he muttered, "God, I want you inside me," Puck didn't think, he just stripped off his jeans in about five seconds, then dug in his backpack. Kurt saw what was in his hand and began to laugh.

"You carry lube to school?"

Puck shrugged, popping open the lid with one hand and applying it to his finger with the other. "It's good to be prepared."

Whatever else Kurt might have said was eliminated by Puck's fingers, pressing into him. He let out a strangled gasp and threw his head back, his eyes closing. "More," he urged. Puck felt his muscles clenching as he worked another finger into him, marveling at the heat of Kurt's body and the astounding grace of his reactions. "Noah – please."

"I'm here," Puck said, kneeling before Kurt's legs, spread open on the chair. He shook his head, overwhelmed. "I'm just – I have to look at you, baby. There's nothing more fucking beautiful than you."

"God," Kurt said, shocked, his eyes like blue pools. "I have no idea how to respond to that."

"Just know it's true," Puck said, leaning in to kiss him. The chair was not the perfect height, but it would do, if he spread his legs just a little… He gave himself one quick coating of lube from his wet hand, and he was there, nudging into Kurt, feeling his body open and adjust. He remembered Finn doing the same to him, but the memory was almost too intense; he wanted to last, wanted to stay hard until Kurt was satisfied.

They were face to face on the chair, and the motion of Puck's hips into Kurt's body was slow and easy. Kurt reached around and put one hand on Puck's behind, his other hand on his own cock. "I love this," Kurt murmured.

"Me, too," Puck said.

Kurt smiled. "No – I mean, yes, I love what we're doing, but I mean – I love this." He squeezed Puck's ass, and Puck felt a surge of sensation that made him gasp. Kurt's smile went little smug. "Are you sore from last night?"

"A little," Puck said, and the memory of Finn's hand, Kurt's lap, stinging swats giving way to gentle comfort, led to another surge, and he breathed through it. "It's good. I like the way it feels."

"I know, sweetheart," Kurt said, stroking the small of his back. "I know just how it is."

Kurt did. He knew just what Puck got out of those spankings, as much as anyone could really know why they were so satisfying. He wasn't sure if Kurt got the appeal of the pain, in the same way – but maybe he did. "Do you want me to do that to you?"

Kurt's eyes were startled, and the answer came in the form of his hand clenching Puck's hip, pulling his body in forcefully against him. "I – I guess so," he gasped. Puck responded in kind, speeding up his thrusts, following Kurt's lead, and watching with satisfaction as he groaned and came explosively on his bare stomach. Puck let Kurt's contracting muscles draw his own orgasm out.

"Baby," he chanted, gripping his hips, riding it out; "baby, you feel amazing."

Kurt was silent in the aftermath, mouth open and eyes closed, leaning back in the chair. "I can't believe I ever thought this might be something I didn't want," he said, laughing a little.

"It's a hell of a lot more intense without condoms," Puck said, finding a tissue in his pocket and using it to mop up. "At least, compared to how it is with girls. I don't have anything to compare it to, otherwise." He slid out of Kurt and tucked himself, moist and smelling of sex, back into his shorts, resolving to pick up a box of tissues and wet wipes at the store after school. "Thanks for breakfast, baby."

Kurt sighed contentedly and dug his handkerchief out of his own pocket, putting himself back together, doing zippers and buttons and smoothing the fabric of his blue Marc Jacobs shirt. "This was – just what I needed," he said, his eyes smiling. "Last night, and today. I think I'm ready to face Friday now."

"Tonight – Mercedes, and us, at your house?" Puck said. He reached out and helped Kurt to his feet, feeling him stagger a little, and held him against his body, supporting him. This is what it feels like to have a boyfriend, he thought, still disbelieving the reality of it, and feeling the warmth of him, his solid, slim presence. We hold each other up. We take care of each other. He thought, fleetingly, of Finn's comment about rings, and it made him dizzy.

"I'm looking forward to it," Kurt said, kissing him gently as he picked up his messenger bag. "See you in class."