08 May 2014 @ 12:25 pm
Twenty-Nine Dollars  
Title: Twenty-Nine Dollars
Rating: PG-13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Finn/Puck
Warnings: None (just fluffy)
Summary: Finn opens a kissing booth, ostensibly to raise money for nationals, but really to get a kiss from Quinn. Puck has five dollars in his pocket and the excuse of a bet. Will Puck run out of change before he's able to convince Finn who he REALLY wants to be kissing?
Word Count: 6602



Finn knew that running a kissing booth to get Quinn to kiss him was a good idea, but he didn’t realize that it would also be financially successful. After only a few hours of opening the booth, Finn already has almost two hundred dollars in the cash box behind the little wooden counter. He thinks he’s probably kissed at least seventy-five percent of the girls at McKinley, though Quinn hasn’t actually been one of them. Becky and Brittany have been his most repeat customers; Finn suspects that Brittany might be funding both of their kisses. At least neither of them has tried to slip him the tongue, unlike that creepy senior, Suzy Pepper.

“Hey, dude,” Puck says as he walks up to the booth. “Make any money?”

“Yeah, a ton,” Finn says. He holds up the cash box, just out of Puck’s reach.

“Awesome.” Puck digs into his pocket for a minute and pulls out what looks like a handful of ones, holding them up.

“What, did you want to donate or something?” Finn asks.

Puck laughs and starts counting off the bills. "One, two, three, four, and five. That's five kisses, right?"

“Dude,” Finn says, shaking his head as he laughs. “Ha ha. Real funny.”

“The sign says it’s a dollar per kiss,” Puck says. “It was pointed out that you didn’t say ‘girls only’ or anything.”

“You can just give me the money and not get the kisses, though,” Finn says.

“This is five McChicken sandwiches, dude. I want to get something for my money,” Puck insists, and then looks over his shoulder. “Also, there may be a dare involved.”

“Ah, okay,” Finn says. “I’ve got your back, then. C’mere and let’s get this done.” He leans across the booth with his lips pursed, trying not to roll his eyes or laugh.

Puck closes the rest of the distance between them, and the first two kisses are basic lip-on-lip pecks, but on the third kiss, Puck keeps his lips on Finn’s a little longer. The fourth kiss feels like Puck has decided to engage Finn in a game of gay chicken.

“Dude,” Finn says, as he pulls back from that kiss. “Seriously?”

“What?” Puck says, smirking a little. “I just want to get my money’s worth. Come back here.”

“I know it’s a dare, but seriously, no tongue,” Finn says, leaning back in.

“You should be so lucky,” Puck insists, then puts his hand on the side of Finn’s head before kissing him again. Finn makes a face when he pulls away.

“Okay, okay, go tell whoever that you won your bet,” Finn says. He makes a big show of dramatically wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“I don’t know, did I?” Puck asks. “Was I the best you’ve had today?”

“Better than Suzy Pepper, anyway,” Finn tells him.

“Dude!” Puck says, looking offended.

“I can honestly tell you that you’re the best kiss from a dude that I’ve gotten all day long,” Finn says, grinning at Puck.

“Hmph,” Puck says, still looking a little offended, but he turns away from the booth, looking around the hallway again. “Hey, Artie!” he calls.

“Of course,” Finn mutters to himself, shaking his head, then looking up and smiling as two of the younger Cheerios approach the booth, giggling and clutching each other. “Hi there, ladies!”

Puck rolls his eyes before walking down the hall. Finn kisses both the Cheerios, then sends them on their way with a, “Be sure to tell the rest of the squad!”

Another forty-five minutes pass, during which time, Finn kisses two members of the marching band, the entire female population of the debate team, and then, for some reason, one of the boys from football.

“Another dare?” Finn asks the kid.

“I saw Puckerman doing it,” the kid explains, shrugging like that makes absolutely perfect sense.

“Well, thanks for your donation, I guess,” Finn says, and the kid waves over his shoulder as he swaggers away.

About five minutes later, Puck reappears in the hallway, smirking still. “Sam come by?”

“What? No!” Finn says, alarmed that Puck might have somehow spilled Finn’s Quinn–related plans to Sam.

“Those lips, dude. I told him he should swing by.”

“Only dude I’ve kissed except you was one of the guys from football. The one that liked your song last week,” Finn says.

“Huh,” Puck says, looking grudgingly impressed. “Maybe we should see if he wants to join. Anyway…” Puck trails off and digs into his pocket, pulling out a handful of change. “I think this is three dollars.”

“What, Artie didn’t believe you without a picture or something?” Finn says, holding out his hand to take the change from Puck.

“Yeah,” Puck says, overselling it a little bit. “Gotta find a way to snap a picture while we’re doing it.”

“You want me to hold my phone out?” Finn offers. He deposits the change in the cash box and applies some of the root beer–flavored Lip Smackers that Brittany gave him, which he’s really appreciated, since all this kissing is leaving his lips kind of chapped. “Alright, dude, you ready?”

“Let’s do it,” Puck says, nodding and leaning in. Finn leans forward, too, propping one elbow on the countertop, and holding out his phone, his thumb on the button. Puck grins a little and initiates the kiss, which is definitely more like the fourth or fifth kiss from before. Finn snaps the picture, then he pulls back, scowling at Puck.

“Did you have to kiss that long?” he asks. “I snapped the picture like five whole seconds before we stopped.”

Puck rolls his eyes a little and waves his hand to the side. “I paid for three,” he says, which isn’t really an answer at all.

“I can give you change,” Finn offers.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Puck says flippantly, already leaning in for another kiss. Finn sighs and leans forward again, keeping his eyes open, so nobody watching gets the wrong idea about all of this dude-kissing.

Puck doesn’t let any time really pass between the second and third kisses, just comes back in, and this time, Puck does slip him a little tongue. When they pull apart, Puck looks kind of proud of himself.

“Dude! What the hell!” Finn says, wiping his mouth again.

“I like the root beer,” Puck says, as if that’s enough of an explanation.

“Dude,” Finn says. “That’s three. You’re done. I’ll send Artie the picture.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Puck says, slowly walking backwards. “You know, you should do another one of these in a week or so, raise some more money.”

“Let’s just see how this one turns out,” Finn says, applying another coat of root beer Lip Smackers.

“Later, dude,” Puck says, looking not even a little bit put out by all the kissing.

Finn sends the picture to Artie, and kisses a few more girls. About thirty minutes later, Artie rolls up, holding up his phone. “Thanks for the picture?” he says.

“It’s the proof,” Finn explains.

“Right,” Artie says slowly. “I thought Puck did his kiss earlier.”

“Well, yeah, but this was the proof, like you said,” Finn says.

Artie gives Finn a weird look. “I didn’t tell Puck he had to get a picture. I did tell him he had to wait until tomorrow to get the ten I owed him, since I didn’t have it here. He looked kind of disappointed about that.”

“But he came back to the booth to get more kisses,” Finn says, feeling confused about the whole situation. “He said you told him that he had to have proof, so I took a picture on my phone to send you. He paid for both sets.”

“Sets?” Artie says. “Kisses, plural?”

“Well, yeah, he got five the first time, then he came back later with change, saying you told him he had to get proof,” Finn says.

“You know what you should do?” Artie says, already starting to roll away. “You should ask Mike what the wording of the bet was.”

“Okay, thanks, I’ll do that,” Finn says.

Finn has to pack up the booth before he can go look for Mike, but his total earnings for the day are over three hundred dollars, so a repeat kissing booth in the near future might not be a bad idea after all. Finn brings the cash box to Mr. Schue, then goes to the locker room to look for Mike.

“Hey, man,” Mike says cheerfully.

“Hey,” Finn says. “Artie said I should ask you what the terms were for the bet with Puck.”

“Oh, yeah, Artie and I were joking about how you worded the sign, or didn’t word it, so anyone could get a kiss. Smart, by the way. Open-minded and increases your earning potential. So Artie dared Puck to go pay for a kiss.” Mike shrugs. “Puck trotted off and came back about ten minutes later, saying he’d done it. Artie didn’t have ten dollars with him at school today, so he told Puck he’d pay him first thing tomorrow, but Puck still looked kind of disappointed about that. Something about McChicken sandwiches.”

Finn frowns. “Did Artie ask him for proof or anything?”

“No. Why, did he not really kiss you?”

“Oh, he kissed me,” Finn says. “He kissed me eight times.”

Mike looks a little startled, then shrugs again. “Guess you’re a pretty good kisser, then.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Finn says. “Thanks, man.” He doesn’t wait for Mike’s response before turning around and walking out of the locker room. Eight kisses and ‘proof’ when the bet was just for one kiss, no pictures required? Something’s fishy about all of this.


Puck hadn’t woken up the day of the kissing booth thinking about paying for any kisses. To begin with, he hadn’t remembered that it was the day Finn was doing the kissing booth, and he’d just assumed that it would be reserved for girl customers only.

Once he’d realized that it wasn’t, at least not according to any signs, it hadn’t really taken that much effort to steer Mike and Artie into realizing that, too, and from there, Artie’d seized on the idea of a bet without much prompting at all. It wasn’t that Puck had to kiss Finn, but he was definitely curious, and he knows Finn well enough to know that a bet was the only way to introduce the idea.

The fact that Puck actually had five dollars with him was luck. That the vending machine lock was easy to pick that afternoon was extra luck, because Puck’s theory on how good of a kisser Finn was? Had been right. He was a really good kisser, definitely in Puck’s top five, and probably in the top three. With enough data points, Puck’s pretty sure that Finn could give the old number-one a run for their money. To decide that, though, Puck needs more kisses, which is why he goes back with three more dollars, and why he suggests a second kissing booth. He can scrape up at least another five on his own, plus the ten that Artie owes him, and if he plays his cards right, he can probably get someone to dare him again. Now he just has to make sure someone else seconds the suggestion that Finn have a second kissing booth, and Puck’s thinking about that as he leaves Finn after the eighth kiss.

A blond head catches Puck’s eyes as he’s thinking, and he grins and turns right. “Sam!” he calls down the hallway.

“What’s up, Puck?” Sam says, pausing to wait for Puck to catch up.

“You take my advice earlier?” Puck asks, jogging a little until he reaches Sam.

“Nah, I’m not really into that,” Sam says good-naturedly. “Also, I heard he was using root beer chapstick, and I’ve got on the cherry kind, and the flavor would get mixed up all weird and taste gross.”

“Yeah, it was root beer,” Puck says, licking his lips a little at the memory. “But he’s making a bunch of money, right? So we should get him to have another kissing booth in a few days or next week.”

“Yeah? How much?” Sam asks. “Maybe we should all take turns working the booth.”

“Three of you guys have girlfriends that probably would have a problem with that,” Puck points out, “and I kiss people for free, everyone knows that. And I think at least a couple hundred.”

“It’s for a good cause, though, right?”

Puck grins. “Who is it you’re hoping will line up to kiss you, Sam?” he asks.

“Huh? Nobody!” Sam say, shaking his head. “I’m just thinking about our trip to New York.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Puck says with a laugh. “But maybe other people will help convince Finn to do it again.” He pauses, thinking. “Is it that Cheerio in your class with the legs and the green eyes? Because she’s hot, but she’s not really that great of a kisser.”

“Sarah Pilsner, like the beer,” Sam says.

“That was a fast answer, so I’m going to take that as a yes,” Puck says. “Sarah Pilsner, huh?” He pats Sam’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll want to drop by your line at the booth. Tell you what, I won’t mention her name around Quinn, though.”

“I appreciate it,” Sam says, smiling widely.

“You can return the favor,” Puck says, looking around the hallway briefly.

“We never had this conversation,” Sam says.

“You could make a bet with me, next time around. About kissing Finn.”

“Yeah? You want to go back for more?” Sam asks, side-eyeing Puck dubiously.

“I need more data points,” Puck says, and yeah, that’s most of it. “It’s possible Finn’s in contention to unseat the previous holder of number one. We can tell everyone it’s a huge bet. For fifty or a hundred, maybe.”

“Kisses?”

“Nah, dollars. I probably can only manage about twenty dollars for kisses. We’ll just tell people you owe me and then that you paid me. You don’t really have to pay me anything,” Puck admits.

“What’s the bet about?” Sam asks. “Like supposedly?”

“Huh.” Puck thinks for a few moments, then nods to himself. “Tongue. You bet I wouldn’t kiss him five times with tongue. I need the other kisses to get him warmed up.”

“I think I sound a little too invested in all that kissing,” Sam points out, “but sure. I guess I can do that.”

“No one’ll really pay any attention,” Puck says, just as Artie comes around the corner towards them.

“Puck?” Artie says, looking confused and a little suspicious. “Why did you tell Finn that you needed proof for the bet?”

“I had three more dollars,” Puck says, not really wanting to try to explain it all again. “He asked if I needed a picture or something, and it sounded like a good excuse, so I went along with it.” He looks around anyway, because he’d rather not find out that Finn’s mad about it or anything while he’s still at school, and decides that probably the smart thing for him to do is head out to the parking lot, get in his truck, and head home, even if he doesn’t have any money for a McChicken sandwich. “Later, guys,” he says, and he looks at Sam as he starts to leave the building. “Remember, everyone’s got to do it, and my lips are sealed.”

As Puck leaves, he can hear Artie asking Sam what, exactly, Puck’s lips are sealed about, and Puck smirks to himself on the walk out to his truck. Yeah, it’s mostly about data points, but Puck knows Finn would probably put the same enthusiasm into anything else he did, or was allowed to do. Yeah, there are probably some girls who might rank higher overall, but maybe not, and a number-one slot on the kissing chart in Puck’s head, along with the enthusiasm and loyalty and a pretty great ass that Puck’s noticed for at least a couple of years – well, Puck’d be stupid to ignore all of that, is all, and maybe if there’s another kissing booth, his twenty dollars’ worth of kisses will make Finn not ignore it, either.


Weird Puck situation notwithstanding, the success of Finn’s kissing booth venture sends him home feeling confident and proud of himself. Over three hundred dollars closer to their nationals trip, and it wasn’t a bad ego boost for all those girls—plus two dudes—wanting to pay to get a kiss from him. He tries to apply some of that positive thinking to his trig homework. When that sort of kills his happy thoughts, he closes the book and puts in Bioshock instead.

He’s been playing for about a half hour when he hears someone tapping on his door. “It’s open!” Finn shouts, not looking away from the screen.

“Hello, Finn,” Kurt says, pushing open the door with one foot and carrying two mugs of what is probably warm milk. “May I sit down?”

“Sure, but I don’t really have any ladychat tonight,” Finn says.

“Oh?” Kurt says, sitting on the edge of Finn’s bed and passing him one of the mugs. “That’s not actually what I heard.”

“Well, I mean, I did kiss a lot of girls today, but just in a money-making kind of way,” Finn says. “Why, what’d you hear?”

“That girls were not the only people you were kissing, for starters,” Kurt says, looking a little too interested in the conversation.

“Oh, yeah. That one guy from the football team, too,” Finn says, keeping his eyes on the screen and hoping that shuts down the conversation.

“And…?” Kurt prompts.

“And nothing?” Finn offers.

“So you did not exchange ‘several’ kisses with Puckerman?” Kurt asks, making quotes around ‘several’ with his hands, like he usually does when he’s quoting either Rachel or Mercedes.

“Yeah, but those don’t count. It was for a bet,” Finn says. “Bets don’t count.”

“Was it?” Kurt says. “I heard that the bet was over after the first kiss.”

“Yeah, but then he had to have proof.”

“Really? Mercedes said that Tina told her that Mike was there when the bet was made. One kiss, no proof required, and how many did Puck actually pay for?”

“I’m just going on what he told me,” Finn says, waving one hand like he doesn’t even remember how many kisses. Which, of course he does. Eight.

“Mmm.” Kurt takes a sip of his warm milk and hums again, like he either doesn’t believe Finn or thinks Finn isn’t telling him something. “Did you enjoy them?” Kurt asks after a few more moments.

“They weren’t, like, long or anything,” Finn says, concentrating even harder on Bioshock, squinting his eyes at the screen in hopes Kurt will get the hint and leave him to his game.

“I saw the picture,” Kurt announces after another sip of milk. “Did you enjoy them?”

“Yeah, everybody saw the picture. The picture was the proof.”

“That wasn’t a short kiss that I saw pictured,” Kurt says insistently. “Brittany swears up and down that Puck’s an excellent kisser. Hence the question: did you enjoy them?”

“Well, yeah, who doesn’t like a decent kiss, right?” Finn says. “So, you asked your questions. Can you, you know?” He waves in the direction of the door. “Go?”

“I haven’t even had half of my milk yet!” Kurt says, sounding offended. “I guess it’s nice, then, that all of you are doing another kissing booth,” he adds as he stands up, holding himself stiffly.

“Uh, I said I’d think about it. I never said for sure we were,” Finn says. He puts down his controller. “Who told you we were?”

“Oh, Rachel and Mercedes said they heard from Sam and Mike that everyone was going to participate. Well, Artie was still deciding, and personally, I agree with Tina and Rachel. Very few people are going to pay to kiss Puckerman, since he’ll usually kiss someone for free.” Kurt’s face looks almost evil as he continues. “I supposed you should be honored, then, that he paid to kiss you.” With that, Kurt smiles and leaves the room, mug of warm milk still in his hand.

“It wasn’t like that!” Finn shouts after him, then says to himself, “I don’t think it was like that.”

Kurt doesn’t answer, so Finn goes back to his Bioshock, and tries to put the whole weird thing out of his mind. If they do another kissing booth, maybe this time Finn will just put ‘Girls Only’ on it, and that’ll take care of it. Maybe. Possibly.


Exactly a week later, the kissing booth gets set up again, this time with room for up to two additional guys. Puck makes sure that Finn’s working all day, and during lunch, two other guys will be working. The rest of the time, it’ll be one other guy, rotating between everyone, and Puck even volunteered for the earliest shift.

When they set up the signs, Puck can see where ‘Girls Only’ was added under the price, but then erased, and he raises his eyebrows, smirking a little to himself. Sam had ‘challenged’ Puck to the bet the afternoon before, where plenty of people could hear, and in exchange, Puck had found the green-eyed beer–Cheerio and told her to make sure she came by during lunch, when Sam Evans would be working.

Puck checks his wallet one final time before the booth opens. Twenty dollars, and he’ll make sure to time it right, after lunch but before last period. The bell rings and Puck takes his place behind the booth, prepared not to have that much business, because everyone’s pretty much right: you don’t have to pay Puck to get a kiss from him.

People must like the idea of a kissing booth, though, because Puck kisses more people than he expects to during his shift, and he trades out with Artie partway through third period.

“Have fun, dude,” he says to Artie, and Artie gives him a thumbs up. Puck doesn’t care about attending the last half of Spanish, and anyway, Schue was giving them all full marks for the day in his class, since it was a glee club fundraiser. During lunch, Puck sees green-eyed beer–Cheerio giggling in Sam’s line, at least six or seven dollars in her hand, and Puck walks past with a thumbs up for Sam. He know Sam’s dating Quinn, but the only people that think that will actually last are maybe Sam and Quinn themselves, and probably not even the two of them.

Once the lunch crowd clears out, Puck goes up to the booth and shoots Sam a look. Sam says, “Oh, hey, Finn, can you cover the booth while I go hit the men’s room? I want to brush my teeth again.”

“Yeah, sure,” Finn says. Sam scootches out from behind the booth, giving Puck a not-particularly-subtle thumbs up.

Puck stands in front of the booth, leaning against the nearby wall. “Pretty successful again?”

“Yeah, doing okay,” Finn says. “Not as much as last time.”

“Well, here’s twenty more,” Puck says, getting out his wallet and pulling out the relatively crisp bill.

“You need to make change or something?” Finn asks.

“Nah,” Puck says. “I’ll take all twenty.”

“Dude, seriously,” Finn says. “Joke’s gone on long enough.”

“I’m not laughing!” Puck points out. “Are you engaging in, uh. What’s that thing? Commercial fraud? Advertising something you won’t really deliver?”

“For real, dude. Why?”

“Why not?” Puck says, because he’s definitely not explaining in the middle of the hallway at McKinley. “I know I’m not that bad of a kisser.”

“It’s gonna get around, is all,” Finn says. “People’ll start saying stuff about you.”

“That’s my problem, I guess. Not yours.” Puck’s pretty sure the bet will cover the worst of it, but still, he can always talk up that Finn went along with it, was a good sport. “C’mon, it’s a real twenty.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Finn says, plucking the twenty out of Puck’s hand and putting it in the cash box before leaning across the booth’s counter top with his lips pursed. Puck shakes his head a little and puts a hand on Finn’s cheek, pulling him into a kiss that Finn will probably think lasts too long, but there’s no tongue—yet. Finn’s lips taste like watermelon, which isn’t quite as awesome as the root beer, but he’s still a really good kisser, and Puck doesn’t let him pull away enough to talk until after kiss number five, each one getting just a little longer with a little more pressure behind it.

“That’s five,” Finn says, sounding a little of breath, his face flushed. “You sure you don’t want change?”

“Nope,” Puck answers, smirking at Finn before he starts kissing him again, this time with tongue, and they’re on kiss eleven or twelve when Puck pulls away, curious if Finn’s still able to keep count. He wants him to lose track by sixteen or seventeen, but Puck’s pretty sure he might lose track by then, too. Puck can sense more than see a few people around them, and he keeps his hand on Finn’s head, keeping Finn’s attention focused on him.

“That’s, uh. That’s ten or twelve, maybe?” Finn breathes.

Puck’s smirk is more like a grin, and he nods. “Sure.” He brings his other hand up, sliding them both into Finn’s hair, and he starts kissing Finn again, immediately pushing his tongue into Finn’s mouth and tugging gently on Finn’s hair. Finn jolts when Puck’s tongue touches his, but he doesn’t pull away, and after a few beats, flickers his tongue lightly against Puck’s. Puck would pump his fist or something, but he’s got more important things to do, and he grins against Finn’s lips as they keep kissing.

It seems to Puck like it would be hard for Finn to keep track because one kiss slides right into the next one, but he thinks they’re technically on kiss eighteen or so when he has to stop for a moment, long enough for them to catch their breath, and now there’s definitely people watching them.

“Was that twenty?” Finn asks, sounding a little disappointed. “Maybe you counted wrong.”

“I think there’s still a couple left,” Puck says, grinning again, and that’s more than enough encouragement for him, pulling Finn to him again, and they’re both into it enough that it’s really too bad there’s a counter in the way. Puck decides to stop even trying to keep track, because he’s definitely getting his money’s worth, and anyway, he was right: Finn’s a good enough kisser to make Puck not care about counting.

Puck keeps kissing Finn as long as he can, following when Finn seems like he’s trying to pull away, because Puck has no plan for kissing Finn again after this. The kissing booth isn’t going to go up again, and Puck mostly is hoping that Finn’s enjoying it enough that he’ll at least be curious about trying it again, trying it somewhere that isn’t McKinley with, Puck is beginning to realize, at least thirty or forty people watching.

That means the first thing he has to do is make sure Finn doesn’t freak out about the people, so he pulls back slowly, his hands still on Finn’s head. “That probably was twenty,” he concedes in a whisper.

“Yeah?” Finn asks breathily. “Was it?”

“Yeah.” Puck moves his right thumb over Finn’s head, slowly and with a small enough movement that most people probably won’t notice it, but Puck knows how Carole used to rub Finn’s head when he was upset. “There’s a few people watching.”

“Yeah?” Finn repeats.

“I’m going to tell ’em to go back to class or wherever,” Puck says, still whispering. “And I think I’m going to cut the last couple of periods. What you want to do is up to you, but I bet Mike and Sam and Artie can cover things if you don’t want to sit here.” Puck figures that’s all he can do – offer Finn a way out of the scrutiny, and tell Finn where he’ll be, in case Finn wants to follow him. He pets at Finn’s head for a few more seconds, then starts to pull back.

Finn blinks a few times and seems to shake himself a little, like he’s trying to wake up or something. He pulls away quickly and looks to both sides of the booth at the people gathered there, and his face turns a little red. “Ignore them,” Puck whispers, but then he wheels and glares at the people around.

“Go back to class,” he says roughly, glaring at each of them individually, and he raises his eyebrows at Sam when he spots him near the back of the crowd. Sam takes the hint and immediately starts herding everyone away from the booth.

Puck keeps glaring until everyone has at least turned around and isn’t staring at either or both of them, and he looks back at Finn, who is still pink-faced and looking like he can’t decide if he’s confused, upset, or turned on, or maybe some combination of two of them or all three.

“I’m going to cut now, like I said,” Puck says, speaking as quietly as he can and still have Finn hear him. Finn nods. Puck walks backwards for a few steps before he returns the nod and then turns away from Finn, heading towards the exit. He climbs in his truck and exhales heavily before starting the engine. By the time Puck gets home and goes inside, he’s realized that Finn wasn’t wrong; people are going to talk. What Finn didn’t factor into it is that Puck’s equally sure it was worth it.


Finn packs up the kissing booth in a daze, takes the cash box to Mr. Schue in a daze, and then cuts the last few classes, walking out to his truck in a daze. He sits behind the wheel, fingers pressed to his lips, quietly saying, “Holy crap.”

He hadn’t kissed that many people in his life before last week’s kissing booth, and he still hasn’t kissed a lot of people in what he would consider a serious way, but kissing Puck wasn’t like kissing anybody else. Finn’s glad he was behind the booth, because he would have really been embarrassed, if everybody had seen the massive hard on he’d gotten, just from kissing. He’s glad Puck didn’t see it, too. Finn isn’t sure how he would explain, or if he’d even have to.

One thing he’s sure of: everybody saw them kissing. He isn’t certain how many people were gathered around, but it was a lot, and he suspects more than one picture was snapped. Anybody and everybody could know by now. Finn isn’t sure how he feels about that. He isn’t sure how he feels about Puck, either. A week ago, he could have easily answered that Puck is his best friend, but today, he doesn’t know what Puck is. Best friends don’t kiss like that. Best friends don’t start sporting yet another hard on from thinking about kissing their friends.

Maybe Finn should have let Kurt in on what happened last week. Kurt might know the protocol for that, even if he’s not doing a lot of it himself. Finn drives home, resolved to talk to Kurt as soon as he gets back from Dalton that afternoon. Until then, though, it’s probably for the best that Finn will have the house to himself. He needs to get calmed down or something.

When Kurt gets home, Finn immediately walks across the hall and knocks on his door. “Kurt? It’s an emergency!” he calls through the door.

Kurt takes at least ten seconds to get to the door and open it, and he looks curiously at Finn. “Oh? What is it?”

“He kissed me!” Finn announces. “Can I come in?”

“Weren’t you running another kissing booth today?” Kurt asks, stepping to one side so Finn can enter the bedroom.

“Yeah,” Finn says.

“So wasn’t the kissing part of the booth?”

“Yes and no.”

“Sit down,” Kurt says, gesturing to his desk chair with a sigh. “Sit down and explain.”

Finn sits in the chair, letting his arms flop to the side. “He came back with a twenty,” he tries to explain.

“Big spender?” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Are you sure he’s not messing with you in some way?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“How, exactly, are you sure?” Kurt asks.

“ ‘Messing with you’ doesn’t kiss like that,” Finn says.

“Oh, so you did enjoy it,” Kurt says, looking almost evil again.

“Yeah,” Finn says as he exhales. “Yeah. I did. A lot.”

“And that’s the emergency? That you enjoyed it?”

“Well, yeah,” Finn says.

“You’re… upset you enjoyed it? Afraid that Puck didn’t enjoy it as much as you did? Afraid Puck did enjoy it?” Kurt asks, head tilted.

“No. Yes.” Finn sighs. “Maybe all of those.”

“Okay, new question,” Kurt says with a sigh. “Do you want to kiss Puck again?”

“Yes,” Finn says, feeling kind of miserable about that fact.

“Then you should,” Kurt says, and he looks almost equally pained by it. “I don’t think Puckerman would have spent twenty dollars to kiss you unless he really really wanted to. I am pretty sure he routinely spends less than ten dollars on entire dates, and now he’s spent… what? Over twenty-five dollars just to get you to kiss him?”

“Twenty-eight,” Finn says. “Twenty-eight dollars. And it was awesome.”

“Goodness,” Kurt says. “What exactly is the problem, then? You want to kiss him. He wants to kiss you.”

“He’s my best friend! We kind of only just started getting back to things being good again. Plus, he’s a guy!” Finn says.

“If your best friend were a girl, would you have the same reservations?” Kurt asks. “It seems to me like being best friends would be a nice solid foundation.”

“Well, it would still be kind of weird, even if he was a girl,” Finn says.

“Somehow I suspect you’d overcome your hesitancy much faster, though. Also, ‘Puck’ would be a horrible, horrible nickname for a girl,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “What did he say to you after you two were kissing? Or did he say anything?”

“No, he—” Finn cuts himself off as he realizes that Puck did do something, after the kissing. “He petted my head.”

“He petted you?” Kurt repeats.

“Yeah, like with his thumb,” Finn explains, putting his hand to the side of his own head and rubbing his thumb across the side of it. “See?”

“Okay,” Kurt says, looking confused. “I don’t think I understand why he would do that, but I suppose that’s almost… sweet.”

“We kind of had a crowd,” Finn says.

“Oh.” Kurt looks at his phone, almost like he’s been betrayed by it. “Well, then. He petted your head, because people were watching, but didn’t say anything?”

“Yeah. Well, no. He also said he was cutting the rest of the day,” Finn says.

Kurt raises an eyebrow. “Did he tell you where he was going to be?” Finn shakes his head. “Hmm. Well, in that situation, I wouldn’t want to seem too forward, but I don’t know if Puckerman has ever really worried about that. No doubt you know where to look for him when he cuts, though.”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Do you think I should?”

“If you want to kiss him again, then yes,” Kurt says, looking like he can’t decide whether to be amused or put out. “You aren’t going to be running another kissing booth, I suspect.”

“No. I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“So finding him is probably your best chance at kissing him again.” Kurt stands up with what almost sounds like a huff. “Remember, Finn, he spent twenty-eight dollars just to kiss you.”

“Okay. Thanks for your help,” Finn says.

“You’re welcome,” Kurt says with what is definitely a sigh. “If either of you feel like doing a good deed, you could attempt to teach other guys to be as… well, romantic.”

“Okay. Sure,” Finn says. He gives Kurt a thumbs up as he heads out of Kurt’s room, down the stairs, and out to his truck. Puck will probably be in one of two places, and he knows where to look first.


Puck scuffs his feet on the ground, just enough to keep the swing moving. There are a few moms around giving him dirty looks, but most of people at the park are used to Puck hanging out there at least some afternoons. He takes a drink from his pop, grinning a little at the sight of the three year old little boy who keeps trying to go faster down the slide than his mom wants him too.

He’s still watching the same kid, his mom chasing him, when he hears Finn’s voice behind him.

“I’ve got something for you,” Finn says.

Puck stops the swing and twists around to look at Finn. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, but you’ve gotta come with me.”

“It better not be a wedgie,” Puck warns as he stands up and walks towards Finn.

“Well it wasn’t gonna be, but now it might be,” Finn says. “Come on.” He turns and walks towards the parking lot adjacent to the park.

“You wouldn’t,” Puck says as he follows Finn. “It’s probably not pizza, either.”

“It could be a pizza, I guess. Or could turn into pizza. Part of a pizza.” He keeps walking towards his truck, giving a nod in the direction of the passenger side. Puck resists the urge to give Finn a ‘what the fuck’ look and just goes around to the passenger side.

“Now you’re making me hungry,” Puck complains, climbing into the truck.

“Sorry,” Finn says. He backs out of the spot and drives to the far end of the lot, away from the other cars, and parks again.

“Dude, you just drove maybe two hundred feet,” Puck says, and he knows he’s looking strangely at Finn. “It’s a good thing I trust you.”

“I didn’t want anybody else around,” Finn says. “Anyway, here.” He reaches into his pocket and grabs something, holding it in his closed hand, which he foists at Puck. “Put your hand out, dude.”

Puck reaches his hand towards Finn, palm up. “Okay?” Finn presses what feels like a crumpled piece of paper into Puck’s hand.

“I was hoping it was only gonna cost the one,” Finn says.

Puck looks at his hand and starts to laugh at the very crumpled dollar bill. “I could probably give you a really good discount rate,” he agrees, reaching for the back of Finn’s neck and pulling him into a kiss that’s pretty involved from the start, his tongue pushing into Finn’s mouth. This time, he’s definitely not keeping track of anything, and he lets the dollar bill fall onto the seat so he can use his other hand for leverage, pulling Finn towards him by the front of his shirt.

Finn lets himself be pulled, wrapping one arm around Puck’s waist and kissing him back hard, his tongue moving against Puck’s. It’s even better than the kisses at McKinley, mostly because Puck knows no one’s watching them and Finn’s definitely not going to bolt. Puck wouldn’t be able to tell anyone later how long they sit there kissing, just that it’s a long time, and when he pulls back, he grins at Finn.

“Guess what?”

“What?” Finn asks.

“You’re definitely the best kisser of anyone I’ve ever kissed.”