Disclaimer-I do not own Glee
The idea for this story came from ForeverBlossom
I am British so I will use British spelling/words/phrases or whatever. If that bothers you, don't read because I'm not going to change it.
This story will involve boy on boy action, so if you have an issue with that, don't read.
If you don't like Glee or the pairing, don't read.
Also, this fic does not follow the timeline of the actual show and completely disregards the Burt/Carole set up and Quinn's pregnancy, so pretty much forget what you know from the show and just enjoy.
Bat Out Of Hell
Summary: Kurt needs a ride home; the only near-friendly face he can find is Puck. He follows Puck to his… motorbike. Damn, his dad was going to kill him if he straddled that bike, or the boy who owned it.
Chapter 1-A Bad Day
On reflection, it had been a categorically more awful than usual day. He had woken up half an hour late, meaning he had to skip his morning skin-care routine. Having been in a rush, he misjudged his movements when going to pick up his favoured hair product and the pot had fallen to the floor, the remainder of the contents spilling out of it. A horrified sob had escaped his lips at the loss and he was forced to wear his hair natural. It hung in his eyes, and while it didn't look bad, it was nowhere near the perfection of the styles he usually sported.
When dressing, he had stubbed his toe on the foot post of his bed and caught one of the buttons on his precious Marc Jacobs shirt on the door on his way out of his basement bedroom. Another gasp of horror escaped him and he quickly raced down the stairs to pick up the lost button. He placed it safely on his dressing table and stripped his shirt off so he could sow it back on later. He then hurried to his wardrobe and selected a white Nancy Reagan sweater. Pulling it on over his head mussed his hair up a little so he set about combing it again, growing ever more frustrated that he was currently out of hair products.
After yelling a quick goodbye to his dad, he hurried out the front door and into his car only to find that it wouldn't start. "Typical!" He exclaimed to himself before hopping out and hurrying along the street, hoping he could still make it to school in time.
On the way, he slipped out his cell phone with the idea of calling Mercedes and asking if she was nearby so he could ride the rest of the way with her. However, he'd not even found her name on his contacts list when his battery died. "What? This can't be happening." Kurt bemoaned putting his phone away and carrying on.
As he walked down the road, a car sped past him, driving straight through a large puddle that splashed all over Kurt, soaking him to the bone. He was sure his hair was worse than it had been that morning when he awoke with bed hair and his white sweater was now a little see-through in places, his nipples erect from the cold.
He made his way to McKinley High just in time to be grabbed by a group of jocks and tossed into the dumpster. He groaned to himself and waited for the sound of their laughter and footsteps to fade away before flipping himself out. He landed heavier than usual and a sharp pain shot up his ankles all the way up through his legs.
Grimacing in pain, he made to pick up his messenger bag only to find that they'd spilled the contents over the floor around the dumpster. He bent down on the ground, dirtying his pants in the process, as he set about picking his items up and placing them back in his bag.
Just as he was walking through the first corridor of the school, he found himself shivering as he was hit with a slushie. Laughter met his ears as he wiped the cold syrup out of his eyes before making his way to his locker. As luck would have it, today was the one day when he didn't have any spare clothing in his locker.
Accepting that the day was going to be a bad one, he headed to the girls' bathroom to clean himself up as best as he could. He was late to his favourite lesson as a consequence.
Throughout the school day, his misfortunes continued. The teachers constantly called upon him to answer questions that he simply didn't know the answer to. He blushed and stuttered looking like a complete fool.
At lunch time, there was absolutely nothing on the menu that he liked. He wrinkled his nose in disappointment and his stomach rumbled in hunger. Needing to eat, he selected what looked to be the least disgusting food option. Joining Mercedes, Artie and Tina at their usual table, Kurt stabbed at his lunch, finding a grey hair in the macaroni. He pulled it out but could not bring himself to touch the food on his plate.
Mercedes offered him her chicken breast which he eagerly accepted. They had run out of the chicken by the time he had joined the lunch queue. He happily took a few bites before he nearly choked. Artie thumped him on the back and Tina handed him her water which shot out of his nose as he continued to cough and splutter.
"Are you ok, Kurt?" Mercedes asked and he could feel her eyeing his messy hair and stained clothes. "You don't look so good."
"I'm just having a supremely bad day." Kurt told her.
"I'll say." Mercedes replied scanning his appearance again.
"Well I like this new look." Artie lied kindly. "It's different, but being different can be a good thing. I think it shows your more masculine side."
"Artie, you don't have to say that to spare my feelings," Kurt told him. "I know I look like hell. I only ask that you wipe this from your memories, I am so ashamed of myself right now."
"Honestly Kurt, it's not that bad." Tina said. "You still look better than… um, er…" She looked about the cafeteria for someone to compare him to but she was struggling to find somebody who truly looked worse than Kurt that day.
"Sorry White Boy," Mercedes sighed. "But we really can't defend this look."
"I know, I know." Kurt bemoaned. "My current apparel is tragic, and don't even get me started on the nightmare that is my hair. I cannot even bare to look upon myself in a mirror for fear of the glass smashing. The fashion police should arrest me, lock me up where nobody will ever lay eyes on my and have their vision assaulted, and then throw away the key."
"Poor baby," Mercedes cooed. "I really wanna be the best friend and hug you right now but… your entire appearance clashes with my outfit."
"I understand." Kurt responded. "I wouldn't want to be seen with me either. Right now I don't even want to be me. I'll talk to you later, preferably when I'm back to my usual fantastic self, right now I need to go and… put a bag over my head." He stood up with his head low and shoulders slumped and moved away.
"Kurt, it isn't really that bad." Mercedes called. "Boy, you make messy look almost acceptable."
He ignored her and continued on his way out of the lunch hall. As he meandered down the corridor, he was tripped up twice and shoved into a locker three times before he suffered another slushie facial.
"Wonderful, spectacular, just brilliant." Kurt sneered to himself as he dragged his feet to the girls' bathroom to wash away the sticky red goo as best as he could.
The school day finally came to an end and Kurt couldn't wait to get home so that he could shower. After collecting what he needed from his locker, he headed out to the parking lot, continuously looking over his shoulder for fear of one of the jocks preparing to ambush him.
He looked around for a friendly face in the hopes of getting a ride home. He just caught sight of Brittany's car exiting through the school gates. He tried waving his arms about wildly to gain her attention but he was unsuccessful. Scanning the area again, he was forced to accept that the only near-friendly face was Puck.
Swallowing his nerves, he jogged to catch up with the mohawked boy, praying to Alexander McQueen that the other teen wouldn't just beat him up.
"Hey Puck." He greeted trying to sound confident.
"Damn, what happened to you?" Puck asked looking the shorter boy over.
"Bad day." Kurt answered as an explanation. "So listen, do you think you could maybe… givemearidehome?" He asked in a rush for fear of Puck's reaction.
"Huh?" Puck responded looking at Kurt as if he were some kind of alien life form.
"Could you…" Kurt took a deep breath and looked to the ground. "Give me a ride home… please?"
"You're kidding right." Puck remarked with a quirked eyebrow.
"Oh, just forget it." Kurt huffed preparing to storm away but Puck caught hold of his arm.
"Nah, it's cool." Puck told him. "You do my Math homework and I'll give you the ride."
"Deal." Kurt sighed before following Puck to his car. "Oh no." Kurt whispered when they came to a stop, not beside a car as he'd been expecting, but beside a motorcycle.
"She's pretty sweet right." Puck smirked running a hand along the seat. "I call her Hailey."
"You named your bike?" Kurt asked.
"Sure, just like I named my guitar and my dick." Puck shrugged. "Here, you can wear my extra helmet."
Kurt took the helmet but made no attempt to put it on. Instead he stared at the bike apprehensively as Puck swung his leg over and sat astride it. He could just envision his dad exploding in rage if he discovered that Kurt accepted a lift from Puck on a motorcycle.
"C'mon, Hummel, don't tell me you're scared." Puck teased.
"My dad would kill me." Kurt commented. "With any luck he might kill you first, but he'll definitely kill me after. That is of course assuming you don't get me killed."
"Relax, I'm a great rider." Puck assured him. "Like a bat out of hell."
Kurt nibbled his lower lip between his teeth, still hesitant about the situation.
"Dude, do you want a ride home or not?" Puck asked starting to get impatient.
"Don't call me dude." Kurt retorted as he fit the helmet on his head.
"Fine, how about I call you princess?" Puck asked with a snigger.
"How about not." Kurt answered with a scowl.
"Fair enough, I'll just call you Porcelain then." Puck said in a tone of voice that clearly settled the matter.
Rolling his eyes, Kurt straddled the bike and sat behind Puck, not really sure what to do with his hands.
"Hold on tight." Puck instructed as he turned the ignition.
Letting out a startled squeak that he would later deny if Puck mentioned it, Kurt locked his arms around Puck's waist and clung to him. The rush that came from the ride was exhilarating. As the wind whipped around him, Kurt felt his tension from the days' stresses fade away. He relaxed somewhat.
Or at least, he started to relax, but soon enough he was tense and panicking again. He was starting to get hard, and judging by how close he was pressed against Puck, there was no way the Jewish boy couldn't notice. Kurt desperately willed for his erection to deflate, hoping that Puck wouldn't beat him up for it.
After what felt like forever, Puck pulled the bike to a stop and Kurt quickly unwrapped his arms from Puck's waist and leapt off. He hastily took off the helmet and handed it back to Puck without looking at him.
"Seems like you enjoyed that." Puck smirked and Kurt felt his face heat up in embarrassment. "I guess the Puckersaurus is still as hot as ever."
"Shut up." Kurt scoffed knowing it was the lamest comeback in existence. "My current predicament is nothing to do with you. It's merely a result of the vibrations."
"Vibrations," Puck repeated in amusement. "Whatever you say, Porcelain."
Before Kurt could make a witty retort, or indeed any form of speech at all, an angry voice sounded from his front door.
"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel!" Burt barked out and Kurt's cock immediately softened. "What the hell do you think you're going on that death trap with some punk ass teenager?"
"Elizabeth?" Puck asked with a laugh.
"Drop dead." Kurt hissed as his dad marched towards them.
"Love you too." Puck replied before wisely driving off before Burt could attack him.
"Dad I…" Kurt began.
"Don't you 'dad' me, young man." Burt warned as he took hold of Kurt's arm and steered him into the house. "Motorbikes are dangerous. Now who the hell was that funny haired kid?"
"A... friend from Glee." Kurt answered. "He just gave me a ride home."
"A ride home." Burt said. "Is that teenage code for him trying to get in your pants?"
"Dad." Kurt complained in embarrassment. "He's not even gay and he's so not my type."
"Whatever, I don't like him." Burt grumbled.
"Not many people do." Kurt commented.
"Kurt, I catch you on that monstrosity with that punk again, I'll break his legs and shave your head." Burt threatened and Kurt whimpered, his hands instantly flying protectively to his hair.
So… shall I continue?
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Love and Hugs, IceQueenRia xxx