Sam makes a little noise himself when Puck's body jerks and arches, his muscles standing out against his skin like some kind of burnished golden god. He kisses his jaw, dragging his lips down his throat and to his chest, where he presses his tongue against one nipple, all the while ever so slightly nudging Blue against Puck's prostate. Sam kisses down Puck's stomach, the line of his abs, down to the cut of his hips and the coarse trail of hair leading to his hardened cock, which has to be aching with need right about now. Sam finally wraps his fingers around Puck's length, sliding up and down in slow, torturous strokes. Puck's hips rock against him, and Sam slips between Puck's legs, keeping them open as he eases Blue in and out, in and out, listening to the jagged roughness of Puck's breathing.
Sam kisses the inside of Puck's trembling thighs, mouthing and sucking gently at the soft skin before moving back to his cock. He takes him into his mouth quickly and sucks hard, his hand squeezed around the base of Puck's cock to keep him from coming. He can feel the tension in Puck's body, his need for release, but Sam doesn't budge his hand. He pops off his cock with a wet sound and pushes Blue in again, leaving it there as he climbs back up, his hand still wrapped around Puck's base. He leans down and kisses the edges of Puck's mouth (he still hasn't said a word; Sam hopes his brain isn't going to be scrambled permanently from this).
"I could do this forever," Sam murmurs, closing his eyes and feeling Puck's body move and tremble against his. "Just you and me." You and me. Just us. No Quinn. Please. Puck's hips keep bucking against his hand, and Sam finally loosens his grip and slides his fingers to the head of Puck's cock, pressing his thumb down over the slit just like he'd done the very time they'd fooled around drunk in Puck's hotel room. He remembers how Puck had reacted then, and he wants to see the same thing now. He slides his thumb slowly, adding pressure. He scrapes his teeth along the stubble on Puck's jaw and groans softly. "Come on. Let me feel you come."
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Sam kisses the inside of Puck's trembling thighs, mouthing and sucking gently at the soft skin before moving back to his cock. He takes him into his mouth quickly and sucks hard, his hand squeezed around the base of Puck's cock to keep him from coming. He can feel the tension in Puck's body, his need for release, but Sam doesn't budge his hand. He pops off his cock with a wet sound and pushes Blue in again, leaving it there as he climbs back up, his hand still wrapped around Puck's base. He leans down and kisses the edges of Puck's mouth (he still hasn't said a word; Sam hopes his brain isn't going to be scrambled permanently from this).
"I could do this forever," Sam murmurs, closing his eyes and feeling Puck's body move and tremble against his. "Just you and me." You and me. Just us. No Quinn. Please. Puck's hips keep bucking against his hand, and Sam finally loosens his grip and slides his fingers to the head of Puck's cock, pressing his thumb down over the slit just like he'd done the very time they'd fooled around drunk in Puck's hotel room. He remembers how Puck had reacted then, and he wants to see the same thing now. He slides his thumb slowly, adding pressure. He scrapes his teeth along the stubble on Puck's jaw and groans softly. "Come on. Let me feel you come."