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The worst part, Puck thinks as he rubs Cortaid on his face for the fifth time that day, is the beard burn. Maybe there’s another word for it when the hair covers the person’s entire face, but if there is, Puck doesn’t want to find the sites that talk about it.
He doesn’t make Finn stop kissing him, or put up a no-sex-during-the-full-moon rule, but he does grumble for a few days afterward. Finn grins and shrugs, like he always does, and says they can stop having sleepovers during his Shift, like he always does. Puck just shakes his head, like he always does, and pulls Finn down for a kiss, rubbing Finn’s now-smooth cheek with his thumb.
Puck smirks at his reflection in the mirror. Either everyone’s really dense or no one wants to ask Puck what it’s like to date a werewolf. He’s pretty sure it’s a combination. Kurt had looked like he wanted to know once, opening and closing his mouth like a fish when Puck had made a comment about the full moon, but he’d turned red and looked away before Puck could stare at him until he cracked. Kurt probably doesn’t want to know what Puck would’ve said, which is some variation on “the sex is amazing,” but it’s true. Even if it’s not the whole story.
Puck doesn’t care if Kurt or anyone else asks, and Finn doesn’t either, but some stuff just gets to stay private. Like what Puck and Finn do after the full moon.
Satisfied the cream’s all rubbed in, Puck takes one last look at himself and grabs his duffel bag, mumbling a goodbye to his Ma on his way out the door. It’s been almost 24 hours since the last sunset, so Puck walks faster. Carole hands Puck a bottle of pop and a bag of chips when he walks through the kitchen, and he takes that and his bag up to Finn’s room.
Like Puck figured he would be, Finn is lying on his stomach on his bed with the lights off.
“Chips and massage fairy,” Puck calls out softly.
“‘s not a nice thing to call yourself,” Finn mumbles against his pillow. Puck snorts.
“Yeah, I’m okay with it if it means I get to massage my boyfriend.”
“Mmmyeah, okay.” Finn rolls over and Puck can see him wince even in the low light.
“Where’s it worst today?” Puck puts his bag down and unzips it, pulling out the warming oil and a few towels.
“Legs. Think it was that last couple laps,” Finn says. He lets Puck slide his hands to the waistband of his sweats and carefully tug them down and off.
It’s Puck’s turn to wince, watching Finn carefully adjust himself on the bed once his pants are off. “Thought that might happen, but you love running in the park,” he says gently, nudging a towel under each of Finn’s les. “Maybe the colder weather makes it worse.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Finn says. “It’s going to be weird when it starts snowing. I can’t not run during the Shift.”
“Yeah, I know.” Puck pours some oil on his hand and rubs them together. He slides both hands up Finn’s left thigh, pressing in with his thumbs until Finn’s exhales are groans. “‘s this okay?”
“Mmmm. Mmmhmm.” He groans again as he finished answering, so Puck presses a little harder, moving back to work on Finn’s calf.
“So I decided I hate the beard burn the worst,” Puck says, humming a little to himself as he can feel Finn’s calf muscles start to loosen.
“Is it beard burn if the hair’s on my whole face?” Finn sounds clearer already. His face is turned out from the pillow and he’s starting to stretch his arms and shoulders.
“See, that’s what I was wondering, right? But then I decided I don’t want to look it up.”
“Oh yeah dude no. No. Just don’t look. Trust me.” Finn looks so stricken that Puck can’t help but crack up.
“No problem there.” Puck gets to Finn’s foot, which is his favorite part. He doesn’t have a fetish or anything; he’s not trying to get at Finn’s feet when he’s not doing the post-Shift massage. But there’s something about giving Finn a foot rub that’s just fun. Plus, he’s really good at it.
Finn relaxes into the massage after that, his pained groans turning into soft contented moans as Puck kneads the arch of his foot. Puck watches Finn sink into the bed, and he knows this time it’s relaxation instead of immobility. He moves across Finn’s body to his other leg, adding a little more oil before he starts on Finn’s right thigh.
Finn had been beautiful last night. He’s always beautiful. During the full moon, Finn’s graceful in a way Puck doesn’t usually get to see. He arches and bounds, the lean muscles in his arms and back visible when his shirt pulls against them. Puck takes Finn to a park in Findlay, way past where anyone they know might be, and lets him just run and run. Finn’s eyes always shine in the moonlight.
After Finn stalks back to the car, giddy and exhausted, they fuck. Finn’s hips are powerful and smooth, and his grip is so tight Puck couldn’t move even if he didn’t love the way Finn could easily overpower him with one muscle twitch. Afterward, Finn cleans them both up. His mouth always feels hotter than usual, his tongue rougher. Puck is sure he’s not imagining it.
“Have I mentioned you’re the best?” Finn wiggles his toes against Puck’s hand. He’s nice and loose now; Puck can barely see the Shift stiffness in his body anymore.
“No harm in repeating yourself.” Puck caps the oil and runs his hands over the backs of Finn’s legs one more time. He wipes the excess on the towels and tosses them in his bag before grabbing the chips and crawling up the Finn’s pillow. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” Finn says, kissing Puck. “Oh hell yes. Loaded potato.”
“Oh I see how it is,” Puck says. “Potatoes over your massaging boyfriend. See if I let you give me beard-face burn again.”
“Fur-face burn, maybe?” Finn opens and bag and shoves a handful of chips in his mouth. “Ah luff you.” He grins at Puck with chips in his teeth.
“Yeah, yeah,” Puck says, but he leans over to kiss Finn’s forehead, between his eyes. There are definitely some things no one gets to know.