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Finn doesn’t like it when the guys on the football team call him gay, but he hates it when Quinn says it in the hallway. People look at them both but don’t really listen a lot. It’s what being popular is all about; looking and being perfect, even if no one cares about what you do or like. That being the case he’s pretty sure that no one is overhearing them. But he’s hearing her, and that’s enough to hate what she’s saying.
It’s just so frustrating. He’s not gay, and she’s not his beard. They’ve talked about this. He, Quinn and Puck have sat down and had awkward conversations about stuff, conversations where Finn was blushing so hard he thought he was going to pass out from all the relocated blood. But in the end they decided that gay was buttsex, or blowjobs, or handjobs. Not making another guy come, because sometimes they can’t help it. Not kissing because Quinn said that was called post-play, like foreplay but to cool down instead of warm up. Gay’s specific acts, and Quinn knows he’s not doing any of them, so it’s not fair.
Finn can’t remember anymore why he told Puck. It wasn’t because of celibacy club, Finn’s sure of that. If he had, Jacob would have told everyone, and what they do is definitely a secret. If Finn had to guess though he’d say he was freaking out and wanted Puck to make it all normal. Puck’s really good at doing that. He was probably spazzing that Quinn told him that she wouldn’t take her clothes off or let him touch boob, but he could spank her, and he needed Puck to normalise it.
What he does remember is Puck tugging him from side by side on the couch to laying on Puck’s lap and Puck just slapping his ass over and over again. Finn remembers accidentally coming, then freaking out even more. Finn remembers calling Quinn so they could talk. Finn remembers Puck saying he liked getting spanked too, and he remembers Quinn trying and her hand getting sore before Puck wanted to stop, so Finn had to take over.
They’re performing Push It on stage when Kurt does it. He slaps his ass. It’s only once, and not nearly hard enough to give him an erection. In fact, the only thing Finn feels is sheer panic. He nearly stops dancing as he scans the audience for Puck’s face. For a guy that’s banged half the school and a quarter of their moms, Puck is a very jealous guy. Quinn’s not a lot better, really. They’ve got a rule that only the three of them can spank each other. It’s not cheating, if Puck spanks Quinn. No one else would get that,but it doesn’t matter because Finn’s planning on never telling anyone.
The moment he’s off the platform Finn rushes for the chemistry classroom. McKinley’s budget only allows for enough materials for one class a day. The other seven periods it’s empty. It’s where they always meet up if they need to talk privately during school hours and can’t risk using their popularity to be seen and not heard.
Sure enough, without even texting them both Puck and Quinn show up a minute later. “What was that, Finn?”
“That wasn’t choreographed,” Finn tries.
“So what- Kurt thought he’d just slap your butt?” Quinn sneers. “That’s worse than Manhands.”
Throwing people under the bus isn’t normally a thing Finn does. Especially considering that since it’s Puck, there could be literal throwing under literal buses. But this is the one thing in his life that Finn needs to not get screwed up. He can flunk a class or get kicked out of football or lose a limb. But he can’t stop having this. “Yeah, guess so.”
“I’m going to dumpster him. Right now.”
“No, wait. Don’t you think we should reclaim him first?”
“Uh,” Finn starts. He’s not quite as into everyone knowing his business as they both are.
“It’ll be fine, Finn. We’ve done it here before.”
What she’s saying is true. They have. It just seems like pressing their luck to do it a dozen times and still expect to not get caught.
“Quinn. Tape one of those elements posters over the window in the door. Don’t need no nosy eyeballs. Finn, go bend over the table.”
His better judgement is saying no, but the tone in Puck’s voice and the way he just cracked his knuckles is making Finn’s body say yes yes yes. After considering it for nearly five seconds Finn bends over a table. There’s a sink and a gas line on either end, but the middle is just solid wood with five decades worth of initials carved in. Finn figures that just before they graduate they’ll add QF NP FH, just so everyone knows they were here.
Quinn’s skirt sways and her legs show between the slits as she walks over to rejoin them. “Kurt got you above the jeans. I think we’d both feel better if we got you below them.”
Finn undoes his belt buckle, then Puck pulls his jeans and underwear over his ass. His underwear stay at his thighs, but his jeans are loose enough that they drop to the floor.
The first strike is low, where his left butt cheek meets his leg. The next is higher, more to the right. With each spank Finn tenses in anticipation then jerks forward when it lands. Puck is always purposely erratic, just like Quinn always keeps a rhythm. Finn doesn’t like one technique more than the other, he loves them both. He needs both.
“You look so pretty when Puck makes you cry.”
Finn knows it’s true, knows it because Quinn is beautiful when her face is red and scrunched from Puck spanking her, or when Puck’s propped himself up with one arm so he can rub his face irritably with the other, like they don’t know why.
He doesn’t bother to think about the mailman. There’s no reason to. Puck won’t stop when Finn comes, no matter how early. He’ll stop when Finn’s ass is red, when it’s a spank or two from welting. If that happened to be before Finn came it would be just too bad for him. That’s not what this is about anyway.
Finn whimpers as he orgasms and Puck keeps going. His skin is so sensitive after he comes. He can feel each slap like it’s double the strength. Quinn’s kissing his cheeks, his forehead. Anywhere that doesn’t muffle him, anywhere that lets her still hear his noises. Quinn likes to listen.
Finally Puck is done. Finn collapses on the table. His chest was against the marred wood before, but that was for stability. Now it feels like he’s melting into it. Not for long, though. Puck grabs him and hauls him back as he sits on a stool, so Finn ends up standing nestled between Puck’s legs, against his chest. His dick is flopping and his torso is kind of a mess of come, but he can’t bring himself to care.
“You’re ours, dude.”
“Definitely ours,” Quinn adds as she joins them on the other side of the table, a hand on either of their thighs.
“Cool,” he murmurs. Who wouldn’t want to be Noah Puckerman and Quinn Fabray’s?