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Puck wakes up the first morning of football practice sophomore year with equal parts excitement and dread spinning around in his stomach. He’s all-but locked down a starting spot for the second year in a row, if what Coach had said when Puck ran into her at Ray’s was true, anyway. Being a sophomore starter on JV’s going to be awesome--less proving himself and more getting to kick ass and get ready for Varsity--and Puck can’t wait. But football also means that his and Finn’s rivalry is less theoretical and more real again, so they really need to be careful not to get caught. Something, Puck thinks, that’s really unfair when it means they can’t even go on an in-public date in Lima.
Central Catholic’s practices start tomorrow, so Puck isn’t surprised when Finn doesn’t answer the ‘good morning’ text he sends in between pulling on workout clothes and wolfing down the two pizza Hot Pockets he’d hidden from Madison. Puck leaves a little earlier than he normally would, but he figures walking the long way might let his breakfast digest before Coach’s sprints, and the August morning’s nice and cool, even though it’s sunny. He’s right that the walk was a good idea, because he feels way less full by the time he tosses his bag on the bleacher and starts doing some lazy hamstring stretches.
There are a couple guys wandering around, most of them really small and nervous-looking, by the time Puck hears his text alert from where he dropped his bag. Coach must still be in the building, so Puck chances grabbing his phone and sprawling on the sun-warmed bleachers to see what Finn has to say.
morning! mom got 2 boxes of the good pop tarts but i already ate 2 of the foil packages n im thinking about opening another one. u want to get some ice cream tonight? moms home and she said shell drive us wherever.
Puck grins and leans back, tipping his phone up to block the sun. Ice cream sounds awesome and Mrs. H is always cool and drops them off and comes back later so they can have privacy.
yeah ice cream sounds good! pop tarts sound good too. i had to hide hot pockets from mads today but those sound better
U can come have pop tarts before ice cream! i bet my mom would come pick u up and bring u here and then we can go to the dairy hut
Puck sighs. The Dairy Hut is in Delphos, which isn’t that far, but it’s still a necessity, not a choice, like his mom always says about things. It makes him feel squirmy in a bad way that they’re having to hide, like there’s something to feel guilty about, but Puck’s not sure what the other option is. Or, well, he has an idea what it might be, but it’s not anything either of them would even consider.
save me some strawberry ones?
The rest of the team had apparently showed up while Puck was lying back, and he can see Coach and a new manager kid rolling up the equipment racks, so Puck stands up and walks heavily down the bleachers back to his bag.
i promise i will. don’t laugh at me but i miss u already. thats probably dumb huh?
Puck stops with his hand on his bag pocket and just reads the text over and over. He knows exactly what Finn means and seeing Finn say it makes Puck feel it even more. It’s not dumb--at least Puck doesn’t think it is. Finn’s pretty damn great and not hanging out with him is awful, even if Puck likes playing football in the meantime.
not dumb. ditto. text you after practice
“Who’s your girlfriend, Puckerman?”
Puck drops his phone in his bag and zips the pocket. “Your sister, Sully,” he says, turning around to grin at him, and he offers his hand. “She says hurry up and get home before she reads your diary.”
Sullivan snorts, clasping his hand, and Puck can see that he’s bulked up over the summer, like Coach asked some of the linemen to do. “Hey, man, if you want to sit through that bachelor show every week, that’s on you.”
Puck has a good feeling about this season.
Puck’s in better shape than he thought, and he thanks the workouts he and Finn found online for NCAA football off-season that apparently worked. Coach even gives him a back-slap after agility drills. After practice, they’re lying on the grass, chugging bottles of water while Coach gives her pre-season speech about not drinking or smoking or letting their grades slip. Puck mostly tunes her out, because he’s careful not to drink at all during the season, even though he and Finn had some beers a couple times over the summer, and smoking just smells gross. Puck’s grades have been decent, too. Maybe it’s nothing that annoying smart cheerleader would think was impressive, but he’s not in danger of failing anything, and he even pulled a few As in Math and Current Issues.
“...and just so no one’s kept in suspense, we’re facing Central Catholic Week 1!”
Puck snaps back to attention. Well, shit. He can hear some murmuring about “kicking their asses” and “cake week,” and then one of the freshmen whose name Puck’s already forgotten raises his hand.
“I saw them when they played us last year. Their quarterback is huge!”
Puck covers his laugh with a cough just in time, and he has to wave off Karofsky’s weird look and vague offer of water.
“That’s Hudson,” Milton pipes up from his spot lying down on the other side of Karofsky. Milton’s probably going to back up Puck this year, but he’s been nothing but chill about it. Puck likes him a lot. “Don’t sleep on him.”
This time, Puck chugs his water as fast as he can, his eyes watering from holding in the laugh. It must work, though, because no one even looks his way.
“We won’t,” Coach says, smiling toward Milton. I’ve got notes on Hudson, just like everyone else we’re facing. He likes to throw to a fade route.”
“Post,” Puck mutters to himself, grinning a little. “Those aren’t fade routes.” Maybe this is going to be more fun than he thinks.
****
Puck’s still on his second Pop-Tart when he and Finn climb into Mrs. H’s car, both insisting on sitting in the back seat together. Mrs. H stopped giving them funny looks in the rearview mirror back before Christmas, so they sit smushed together, Finn’s arm around Puck and Puck holding Finn’s hand with his free one. Mrs. H doesn’t say anything about seatbelts, either, so Puck ends up practically on Finn’s lap by the time they get to the Dairy Hut.
Puck’s not sure where Mrs. H goes while he and Finn are on dates, but he’s not exactly asking, and she just waves away their thanks and says to text her when they’re done. Puck gets a Kit-Kat flurry and Finn gets a quadruple moosetracks cone and they sneak around behind the building, finding their usual spot out of sight of cars and window customers.
“So we play you week one,” Puck says carefully after they’re relaxed and almost done with their ice cream.
“Oh?” Finn asks, and when Puck looks up, Finn’s eyebrows are raised and his cone is halfway to his mouth.
“Guess we get to work on our acting skills right away, huh?” Puck grins hopefully. He exhales when Finn smiles back.
“Guess so,” Finn says, but his eyes are big and he looks nervous through his smile. “It’ll probably be fine.”
“Yeah,” Puck says, but he moves a little closer to Finn, letting their legs overlap. “It’s worth it.”
Finn’s smile this time is really huge and the nervousness is gone. “Yeah, it is,” he says, and then he’s leaning in and kissing the ice cream off Puck’s mouth in teasing pecks. Puck grins into it, trying to chase Finn’s mouth every time he pulls back, which just makes Finn lean away farther.
“Oh, shit, your cone!” Puck gestures to Finn’s hand, and when Finn looks, Puck pounces, flattening Finn on his back on the cool grass.
“Hey!” Finn protests, pouting up at Puck, who just shrugs and leans down, sucking softly at Finn’s pouty lower lip. He can feel Finn’s scowl relax as Finn kisses back, and then Finn’s arms come around Puck, one of them wrapping around Puck’s waist and the other hand spanning the back of Puck’s head. Puck can feel Finn’s fingers twist in his hair and pull him even closer, sliding his tongue into Puck’s mouth in long strokes. Puck is vaguely aware that there are a million reasons they shouldn’t be making out behind the Delphos Dairy Hut with melting ice cream spilling onto the grass next to them, but right there, with Finn stretched out solid under him and the tip of his tongue teasing along the roof of Puck’s mouth, Puck can’t think of a single one.
****
The rest of the month of August is both easier and harder than Puck would have expected. He and Finn get into a decent routine, which is helped by the fact that their practices are around the same time every day. They manage to see each other at least twice during the week, with sleepovers on weekends that Puck can tell neither of their moms love but both of them allow anyway.
The idea of having sleepovers with another guy like that is still thrilling and new to Puck, even though they’ve been doing it since May. Even in the moments Puck had allowed himself to admit that it was what he really wanted, he’d never believed he could have that so soon. But he is--they are--and every time he and Finn fall asleep tangled up, skin touching everywhere, and then wake up warm together under the covers, Puck has to practically pinch himself. It’s crazy and awesome and gives Puck butterflies every single time.
Their one-year anniversary ends up being only five days before the game, and they both almost forget until Finn texts Puck that he has the 23rd circled on his calendar and he can’t figure out why. It was a sleepover night anyway, their last one before school, so they order a pizza each and sit on Puck’s bedroom floor, watching Iron Man and wiping their greasy fingers on a roll of paper towel they pass back and forth. It’s all very surreal, which they keep mentioning, talking over Tony to point out everything that’s changed in the last year, including football.
“It was easier, I think,” Finn says, chewing on his crust. “when we first started dating. Like, we weren’t so worried about hiding it last season because we were still figuring each other out and stuff.”
“I think you’re right,” Puck says, because that makes sense in a way he hadn’t been able to figure out. “Everything just sort of means more now, you know?”
“Yeah,” Finn says, nodding. “Like football’s getting more serious, but also we mean more to each other now, too.”
“Yeah, we do,” Puck says, grinning, and he leans into Finn’s side. “Holy shit, a whole year. It went really fast but it feels like a long time, too.”
Puck can feel Finn chewing for a long minute, his jaw moving against the top of Puck’s head. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve known you a lot longer than that.” Finn moves the crust to his other hand and wraps his fingers around Puck’s.
“Me too,” Puck says quietly. “‘s kind of weird but I like it.” He picks at the last half-slice of pizza sitting in his box, popping a slice of pepperoni in his mouth. “Football and us are going to be a lot better in the long run if we manage to keep this a secret, though.”
Finn squeezes Puck’s hand. “As long as you don’t mind when we kick your ass.”
****
“Didn’t realize you were such a traitor.”
Puck stops changing with his jersey in his hands and looks over at Karofsky, who’s suddenly standing less than a foot from Puck’s right side, his jaw jutting out and his eyebrows raised.
“Uh...what?” Puck makes himself busy pulling his jersey over his pads. Karofsky could mean anything, and the dumber Puck can play, the better.
“Sullivan here saw you wearing a Central Catholic shirt last week at Lu Lu’s,” Karofsky says mockingly. “Want to explain what that’s about? Think we’d all really like to know.”
Puck exhales. He’d forgotten he’d been wearing Finn’s shirt when he’d ridden over on a sleepover morning for muffins, but at least if Sully hadn’t seen him with Finn, Puck could wiggle his way out of it. He looks back at Sully, who’s holding his hands up and backing away.
“C’mon, man,” Puck says, leaning in like he’s sharing a secret. “You know we don’t talk about high school recruiting. I don’t know where I got the shirt, ya hear me?” Karofsky’s eyes widen and he nods like he knows exactly what Puck means. “Shoulda trashed it ages ago, but it was laundry day.” Puck shrugs. “Won’t happen again.”
“Oh, hey, man, it’s cool,” Karofsky says, and the bite’s gone from his words. “I told Sully here that he was seeing things.” He raises his voice at the last sentence, and Puck has to bite back a laugh. He claps Karofsky on the shoulder and turns back to his locker to grab his cleats, suddenly riding a brand-new wave of confidence. After that, everything on the field should be a piece of cake.
The first game of the season always pulls at Puck in a way nothing else ever has, and running out at introductions is no exception. He takes in a big lungful of air as he jogs over to his teammates and takes a minute to just enjoy. It’s a blend of freshly cut and painted grass, popcorn from the vendor parked near the home bleachers, and late-August night air and Puck shivers a little when he exhales.
He chances a glance across the field. Finn is bent over a clipboard with his coach, his forehead scrunched like it gets when he’s really concentrating. He has one hand on his hip and the other other one scratching his head absently and Puck has to force himself to stop staring before someone notices.
The hardest part of this, Puck realizes, is going to be watching his own team make it their goal to take Finn out. Not being on the field at the same time as Finn is awesome in its own way, because they’ll get to watch each other play, but it also means they can’t do anything about illegal hits and fouls. The last time McKinley had played CC, Finn hadn’t been starting yet, so Puck had been able to just grin across the field at Finn half the game, enjoying how hot Finn looked in his uniform and thinking about maybe getting to makeout with him afterward.
For a completely insane second, Puck wonders if he could get away with either threatening or begging the d-line to go easy on Finn, but before he can even talk himself out of it, the ref whistles for their captains and Puck lets himself get swept up in kickoff.
By halftime, Puck’s starting to actually relax. They’re down by a field goal, but Puck has a touchdown and two 40-plus-yard runs and, even better, Finn hasn’t been sacked at all. Puck makes a mental note to send Finn’s entire o-line anonymous gifts on Monday. The locker room’s pretty pumped up by the time Coach starts her pep talk, and Puck has to duck his head to hide his smile when she praises Finn. Puck is leaning against his locker while Coach talks, so he’s pretty sure no one else can hear it when his phone buzzes right next to his ear. He rifles through his bag as soon as she’s done but before they head back out, and he manages to flip his phone open without attracting any attention.
coach mentioned u. ur famous. he just talked about ur runs though. not how hot u are. but u are. u look so good.
Puck’s sure he’s the dopey lovesick kind of flushed, instead of the running-around kind of flushed, but he doesn’t care.
you can tell me more about how how i am later. coach mentioned you too. same about the hot thing though. we won’t tell them.
yeah thats our secret too. love u. kick ass.
Puck stares down at his phone and now he’s positive he’s lovesick-flushed. That’s really new, and definitely the first time either of them had said it in text and not in the dark as they’re about to fall asleep. He looks behind him and makes a big show of taking a swig from his water bottle while he texts without looking.
love you too
Puck isn’t sure if the butterflies the second half are from the yo-yoing score or Finn’s text, but he can’t deny they give him a little extra boost on the field, and in the end, the Titans win by nine on a play fake in the red zone that Puck spins in and a field goal with a minute left to put the game out of reach. It’s only week 1, and they’re only JV, but Puck feels like they’re celebrating like they won the Super Bowl. He lets himself get swept up in it for several long minutes, hollering along with the o-line and letting Sully run with him in a fireman’s carry around the sidelines. But when things start to calm down and everyone starts to look for their families, Puck heads as fast as he can to the locker room, pulling off pieces of his uniform as he jogs so by the time he gets to his locker, he’s in his underwear and cleats, but at least the room is completely empty.
congrats. :) now do i get to tell u how hot u are?
Puck grins, shaking his head even though Finn can’t see it. He tosses his uniform into the bin and kicks his cleats into his locker and he’s pretty sure he’s never pulled on a pair of jeans and a hoodie so fast in his life.
you don’t want to show me instead?
For a minute, Puck considers just leaving his bag in his locker and bolting for the parking lot, but then he remembers what he’d thrown in his bag before the game, so he tugs it over his shoulder and jogs back in the direction he came, eyeing his phone the whole way.
“Pretty sure I could come up with something.”
Puck looks up so quickly he almost stumbles, but he recovers in time to grab Finn by the arm and drag him into the empty trainer’s room.
“Trying to give me a heart attack?” he asks, tilting his head up to kiss Finn.
“Oh nooo, I’m sorry!” Finn says, but Puck doesn’t think he looks sorry at all.
“Yeah, yeah,” Puck says, waving his hand. “You can make it up to me later when you show me how hot I am.”
“I’m so lucky you’re so forgiving!” Finn says, still making the fake-sorry face. “You’re so, what’s that thing from History? Benevolent!”
“Oh, yeah, that’s me,” Puck chuckles, but he does kiss Finn again, leaving their foreheads pressed together. “Hey, we did it.”
“Yeah, we did,” Finn says and pulls Puck’s lower body closer with his hands on Puck’s hips so their legs fit together. “That was the hard part.”
“Yep,” Puck huffs out a little laugh against Finn’s mouth and then kisses him hard, only pulling away when he hears the squeak of cleats in the hall. “Rest of high school’s going to be a piece of cake.”