Title: Secrets Don't Make Friends (But They Get the Benefits)

Warnings: Slash, Spoilers up to the episode Blame it on the Alcohol, language, and underage drinking

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

He's a little angry and a lot drunk when he marches up to Finn and jabs a finger at his chest.

"You didn't choke on a gumball, did you?" he challenges.

"You're drunk, dude," Finn responds slowly, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender. Even if it would feel good to land a punch to his blonde rival's face, he would rather the other boy be sober when it happened.

"You –Finn- didn't answer my question. I wanna know, man, that's all."

Finn still hesitates, eyes straying around Rachel's basement until they find Quinn. She's sitting on the couch, drink sloshing haphazardly in one hand while she laughs too loud at something Mercedes and Tin are saying. Even though Sam has broken up with Quinn and the gumball debacle has been handled once already, he doesn't exactly know if he's allowed to say it again. Especially not with Sam breathing down his neck like one of those deranged bulls from the cartoons he still likes to watch on the weekends.

"Listen, Sam. Maybe we should talk about this some other time. Like never." The last part is whispered under his breath but by the way Sam seems to be tensing up and glaring he may have heard it anyway. The blonde grabs a fistful of Finn's shirt and pulls him closer, hissing "dammit Finn just answer the question already. I just want to hear it from you."

"Let go of me and I'll tell you," the brunette concedes. Anything to get Sam away from him. With the blonde's face hovering inches away it's getting hard for Finn to breathe.

Sam releases his grip on Finn's shirt and waits for the boy to straighten his clothes before pressing for an answer.

"Fine. No, there is never a gumball." His eyes drop instinctively to Sam's hands, watching as they clench and unclench at his sides. He expects the blonde to jump at him or at least turn and take a swing at something so he's surprised when Sam's reaction is simply to let his shoulders slump and face fall. Even his bangs seem to droop in despair, partially obscuring those watery, hazel green eyes that aren't staring at him so much as through him. For a second Finn feels a wave of guilt akin to what people must feel like after they kick small puppies.

So the next second he's connected to Sam by the lips, having pulled the boy to him with a hand tangled in the other's thick blonde hair. Sam grunts his resistance before stumbling backwards.

"You're a jerk, Finn!" he sputters drunkenly, finger waving in his direction- and all around it. "First you take my girl and then he have to rub it in by teasing me? I told Quinn about the crush I had on you as a secret. You know what? You can both go to Hell."

Sam spins on his heel, teetering dangerously before regaining his balance and staggering towards the quickly diminishing pile of alcohol bottles. Finn watches him go, half confused and half turned on. He can still taste the alcohol from Sam's lips. No one had noticed the two of them kiss, too involved in their own alcohol induced realities. Which means that they probably won't notice if they leave either. Finn strides to Sam's side and pries the bottle from the blonde's fingers.

"What do you want?" Sam sneers, groping halfheartedly for the bottle that seems suddenly far away.

"We need to talk."

" 'm done talking to you, you sasquatch. You're mean and you make my head feel funny."

Finn sets down the bottle and grabs his hands. Sam totters to his feet, head swaying while his world threatens to tilt out from under him. He clutches Finn urgently, worried that if he lets go he might actually float away.

"Come on, we're going out for some fresh air."

Sam nods dumbly at Finn's words, temporarily willing to forget his anger at Finn while the other boy is playing the role of an anchor. Finn pulls one of Sam's arms around his neck and hooks one of his own arms around the blonde's waist so that Sam is easier to maneuver. He helps tug the boy upstairs, trying to ignore the way Sam is pressed tightly to his side.

The third door he opens turns out to be a guest room – or so he hopes – and he lowers Sam onto the bed.

"I'm drunk," Sam giggles, beaming up at Finn with glassy eyes.

"I know," Finn agrees before pressing their lips together for a second time. Sam pushes at Finn's chest until the brunette pulls away, flustered.

"This is gay. You don't like gay," Sam says with deliberate carefulness. Finn can practically hear the gears sloshing persistently against the alcohol in Sam's head while he tries to think.

"It's not gay if you're drunk," Finn shrugs.

"But…But you're not drunk," Sam continues, brows furrowing in confusion.

"No, but you are," Finn reasons, his patience dwindling.

Sam nods slowly, seeming to accept Finn's answer. He reaches out and pulls the brunette to him by his shirt. The kiss is sloppy and drunk, but at least there's no more of that lousy pushing and complaining. Finn splays his hand against the back of Sam's head, fingers buried in the boy's golden hair.

Sam pulls the brunette on top of him, causing Finn to straddle him. The blonde boy is pliant under his hands, moaning into his mouth in such a way that causes Finn's jeans to feel suddenly uncomfortable. Finn can almost forget that his partner is a guy, except for the flat, ab-hard chest and muscled body. And then there's that whole penis thing.

He trails kisses from Sam's lips to his neck, nipping every now and again to earn that strangled but approving sound from the back of Sam's throat. Sam heaves Finn to the side and the brunette has a split second to be confused before Sam has climbed on top of him. He tugs at Finn's shirt until the he manages to get it over his head and then his lips seek Finn's. Sam's hands trace lines across the other's chest and it's Finn's turn to moan in appreciation. Sam mimicks Finn's movements from earlier, traveling from the boys lips to his neck. And then he continues lower, tongue making an appearance on the sweat dampened skin. Finn snags the boy's head and pulls him roughly back to his mouth for a kiss that is more teeth than pleasure. But Sam just growls against his mouth and thrusts his tongue into the mix, a brief struggle breaking out for dominance before Finn yields to him.

It should probably feel weird to have his hand up a dude's shirt, but Sam is so warm and Finn's so hot, and it really doesn't even matter. Plus he's pretty sure that kissing Sam is giving him a secondhand buzz. They're still kissing when Finn feels fingers hook in his jeans. Sam's other is fumbling to get his button undone and he still has his tongue in Finn's mouth and Finn wonders how one person can do so many things at once.

Not that he's complaining.

Sam stops kissing him long enough to slide his pants off and Finn kind of misses it. And then Sam's hands are inside his boxers and Finn can't think anything more coherent than ohgod, which he must have said out loud because Sam has a lopsided smirk on his face. Finn has both hands fisted into the blankets while Sam pumps his hand skillfully, eyes locked on Finn's face. Even the mailman doesn't stop him from reaching his climax- although far too soon for his liking. Sam pulls his hand away and Finn is left with the hot, sticky mess in his underwear.

"Your turn," Finn tells him, voice husky and thick with lust.

Sam shimmies out of his pants and allows himself to be pressed back against the blankets. Finn runs his fingers slowly across the boy's abs before delving into the Avatar boxers and wrapping his hand clumsily around the other boy's manhood. It's an awkward angle since he's only used to having his hands on his own junk, but it isn't hard to get the hang of it. Sam's back arches at his touch and Finn gains confidence. Sam's lips are wet with spit and Finn can't resist kissing them again. Sam snakes his arms around the other boy's neck, groaning and moaning into Finn's touches. Finn increases his rhythm and soon Sam is dealing with his own sticky mess. Finn wipes the cum off on his own boxers before going to fetch his pants from where Sam tossed them earlier.

Sam is content to lie on his back, a satisfied grin on his face. Which Finn is probably a little too pleased about. Finn cleans them both up using a handful of tissue he finds in a box on the bedside table and helps Sam back into his jeans. He pulls the blonde to his feet and helps him back to the basement where the others are still living it up, although not quite as energetically as they were before.

He has time to deposit Sam on a free couch and mill around for a few minutes before Kurt struts up to him and asks if he's ready to leave. Finn nods and Kurt motions him over to help carry Blaine to the car as well. Finn just wants to get in the shower and finish washing off with the dry tissues couldn't.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The following Monday Finn runs into Sam in the hall between classes and studies him for any trace of remembrance. But Sam just looks slightly angry and a little hungover, so maybe he really doesn't remember anything that happened.

"We should do Friday again sometime," Finn calls.

Sam's head tilts to the side in question but he raises his notebooks in acknowledgment. "Yeah, whatever."

Finn is looking forward to it.

END