Puck kisses him, and Sam knows him well enough to recognize why, but he lets it happen anyway, because he was miserable last night and he wants to kiss his boyfriend. His boyfriend who loves him. He can work on Puck's mental health later - right now he just needs to get his boxers off so Puck's hands can be all over him. He wiggles out of them, kicking them somewhere beneath the sheets. He finds Puck's shoulder and gives him a hard shove so he's flat on his back, then straddles him, running his hands all the way down Puck's arms until he wraps his fingers around his wrists and draws them above Puck's head, pinning them there firmly. He brings his mouth down and kisses him roughly, all teeth and tongue and spit, grinding his hips down until he has Puck gasping out his name.

"I get frustrated when you leave," Sam growls between kisses, tightening his grip on Puck's wrists. "So forgive me if I'm a little rough with you." He transfers Puck's wrists to one hand, clamping them down firmly on the pillow, and brings his free hand down to grasp Puck's cock, sliding his hand up and down and feeling it harden in his grip. He knows Puck can throw him off anytime he wants, and he might eventually, but Sam's grip on Puck's cock is so tight that if he does? He might take Puck's most treasured asset with him. He presses his thumb against the head, leaning down to nip at Puck's lips again, exhaling as he watches Puck's face.