AN: Hi guys! So, I sat down to write the final chapter of heteroflexible and this came out instead… so why not? Read, enjoy and review!
If there was one thing Puck hated it was buying presents. Why? 'Cause he fucking sucked at it. He can never get it right. When he was fourteen, his mother had asked him politely to stop getting her gifts because they were so bad. Apparently getting her a pillowcase with a picture of his face on it was a shitty present. He thought it was pretty awesome.
He wondered aimlessly through out the mall, stopping at random stores and peering in the windows. Nothing was good enough.
Next week was Christmas and coincidently, his and Kurt's two year anniversary. Two freaking years. Puck smiled thinking about it. The brain dead Neanderthal and his fashion fairy counterpart. Who woulda thunk it? But, once you get past all the blaringly obvious differences, they were quite similar. Same taste in movies; same sense of humor; same sexual libido (Puck chuckled to himself as the last resemblance came to mind. It was his favorite.) It really all worked out. He really loved the little soprano.
And this year, he wanted to truly show it. He wanted to get Kurt the best anniversary present ever. But, fuck was it difficult.
Last Christmas/ Anniversary, Puck had thought he had gotten the most perfect gift in the world. A family funeral had taken him to New York and while he was on the street, he stumbled upon a man selling designer watches. Designer watches! For only, wait for it, thirty dollars. Thirty fucking dollars! Puck bought four.
The twenty fifth came and Puck handed over the four boxes he had so elatedly wrapped. One by one, Kurt opened them.
"Noah! They're beautiful! But it must have cost you a fortune! Where on Earth did you get the money?"
Puck explained his luck. He told Kurt about finding the man selling them in Manhattan for dirt cheap. As he recounted his story, Kurt's face went from beaming to confused to understanding. Apparently, Puck had bought 'knock-offs' whatever the hell those were. From what Puck had understood, these 'knock-offs' were not as good as the real thing, even though they looked exactly the same. Kurt still wore the watches proudly, but Puck could tell they weren't what he wanted it.
It was Christmas Eve and Puck was fucking miserable. He still didn't have anything for his boyfriend. What was he gonna do? He sighed and reached for his iPod. Kurt was still at work, so Puck decided to sulk by himself.
He skipped the first few songs until the song to end all songs came on.
He stared at the screen and smiled. Why didn't he think of this before?
"Merry Christmas, babe." Kurt handed his gift to Puck and leaned back into the cushions. Puck took it and kissed Kurt's cheek quickly before standing up.
"Thanks, Princess. But, I'll open it in a minute. Can I give you mine first?" Kurt nodded and Puck smirked and went into the kitchen. Kurt pulled his legs up onto the sofa and inspected his cuticles. His nail beds were a mess. Maybe he'll get them done during his lunch tomorrow.
Puck came back in the room wearing a suit and carrying a brightly colored box. Kurt smiled brightly and blushed. His boyfriend looked hot all fancy.
"Open it up, sweetheart, and Merry Christmas/Anniversary… and Hanukkah." Puck stepped forward and offered the box to Kurt, but didn't let go of it. Kurt briefly thought of how wonderful Puck was before opening the present.
It took a moment for Kurt to figure out what the gift was. He processed it. Then he crinkled his eyebrows.
"Is that what I think it is?"
Puck ignored Kurt's question. Instead, he caressed Kurt's cheek and burst into song.
Kurt, you know we've been together such a long long time
And now I'm ready to lay it on the line
Well, you know it's Christmas and my heart is open wide
Gonna give you something so you know what's on my mind
A gift real special, so take off the top
Take a look inside - it's my dick in a box
"Are you fucking with me?" Kurt asked in disbelief. Was Puck really that stupid? Kurt studied the singing boy. Puck was grinding his hips to the song's beat, making the box move up and down in an unsteady motion. Yes. Yes, he was that stupid.
Not gonna get you a diamond ring
That sort of gift don't mean anything
Not gonna get you a fancy car
Kurt, ya gotta know you're my shining star
Not gonna get you a house in the hills
A dude like you needs somethin' real
Wanna get you somethin' from the heart
Somethin' special Kurt.
It's my dick in a box, my dick in a box, babe
It's my dick in a box, my dick in a box, Kurt.
Kurt watched as Puck sung his heart out. He didn't know what to say. He could tell that Puck was completely serious. Kurt just sat there, his jaw dropped and his fingers knitted in his hair. The sad thing, Kurt observed, was that Puck's singing was great. He was on key and everything. Puck obviously spent a lot of time perfecting this. But, it needed to be stopped.
See I'm wise enough to know when a gift needs givin'
And I got just the one, somethin' to show ya that you
are second to none-
"Ok, I'm going to stop you now." Kurt stood up and placed his hands on Puck's shoulders. Puck stopped mid-sentence, sporting a lost puppy look. Kurt took one look at his boyfriend's face and his heart sunk.
"You don't like it?" Puck asked, his voice quieter than before, his confidence lost.
"No, no. It's just…" Kurt considered the truth, but immediately threw that idea away, "It's just that…this song made me sooo horny and I want my gift now."
Puck's eyes brightened and he smirked. Kurt returned the smile and grabbed the box and dragged his boyfriend to the couch.
Puck scratched his abs and stole a glance at his sleeping boyfriend. They had just had the most mind-blowing Christmas/Anniversary sex ever and apparently Puck had tired Kurt out.
He rolled over and his eyes met the bright red box on the floor. The gaping hole in the side seemed to look back at him. Puck winked at it.
Who said he wasn't good as buying gifts?
AN: wow. Ok. Another ridiculous oneshot. I hope you liked it. Review if you want. And of course song cred goes to The Lonely Island for Dick In A Box.