Actions and Reactions
By Gayforkurt
Summary: After Kurt's breakup with Blaine, he does something stupid.
Rated: M for language, and brief situations, to be safe.
A/N 1: I know I should be working on The Storm but this idea wouldn't leave me alone! Please read and review and let me know if there's a future for it, okay?
Disclaimer: You know who own this material and they look nothing like me. Shucks!
A soft voice and a lone guitar were the only sounds in the choir room of William McKinley High School that afternoon. The singer was pouring his heart into the words:
Easy come, easy go, that's just how you live
Take, take, take it all but you never give.
Should've known you was trouble from the first kiss
Had your eyes wide open, why were they open?
Pre-chorus:
Gave you all I had and you tossed it in the trash,
You tossed it in the trash, you did;
To give all your love is all I ever asked
'Coz what you don't understand is…
Chorus:
I'd catch a grenade for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Throw my hand on a blade for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I'd jump in front of a train for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I would go through all this pain
Take a bullet straight through my brain
Yes, I would die for you, baby
But you won't do the same!
The members of the school's glee club, The New Directions, sat with varying expressions frozen on their faces.
Mr. Schuester, the club's staff member and Finn, the school's quarterback wore twin looks of confusion; beside them Finn's girlfriend and self-appointed leader of the club Rachel Berry looked both sad and discomfited. In the row behind her, the cheerleaders Quinn, Santana and especially Brittany were both amused and confused, looking at each other before looking back at the agonized singer. Seated beside them were football players Mike Chang and Sam Evans; they were not only confused, they seemed vaguely embarrassed. Beside Mike was Tina Cohen-Chang, no relation. That's good because they were lovers.
Artie, the wheelchair-bound soulful singer stared at his useless legs, not wanting the others to see the sadness in the song reflected in his eyes. The girl he really liked, Sugar, was leaning against the Irish student, Rory, who seemed oblivious to the melancholy nature of the song because he was grinning at Sugar's vapid face.
Finally, in the top row, two students sat with identical expressions – well, they would have been identical if there were any expressions to be seen. Mercedes Jones stared impassively at the singer, no doubt trying to turn him to stone just from her Medusa stare. Her very best friend, and the target of the singer's angst, was Kurt Hummel.
Kurt's face was, indeed, expressionless but, unfortunately for him and totally beyond his control was the fairness of his skin that revealed his state of mind somewhat. His cheeks were red. That wasn't the only giveaway: his blue-green eyes blazed from his otherwise pale face and his usually soft pink lips were in a pale, tight line.
'How dare he!'
Kurt knew he shouldn't have gone to that party that Santana had decided to throw nearly two weeks before. He knew he should have stayed in bed, wallowing in his misery and choking down a pint of Chunky Monkey with his best friend, Mercedes, while they ripped all men to shreds, especially short, dapper, crooner wannabes with beautiful eyes. He knew he should have just satisfied himself with melodramatic tears and declarations of 'never again!' and a marathon session of Project Runway or something equally inane.
No, he'd had to be a 21st Century Man; he had to get dressed in one of his tightest, sexiest ensembles that his erstwhile boyfriend hadn't even known he'd owned and he had had to turn up at Santana's party with vengeance in his heart. No, he hadn't done the traditional thing; he had done something much worse.
That night was forever etched into his mind; burned there by the memory of the single most brain-frying orgasm he'd ever had from a blowjob. Burned into his memory too was the feel of his cock in Puck's mouth and the feel of that mohawk – longer than usual but silky and thick – beneath his hand. He would always remember clutching the heavy coats that were hanging there that had helped to muffle the sounds they'd made.
Most of all, he would always remember coming like he was dying, spurting come down Puck's greedy throat while he bit down onto his own fist. He remembered Puck surging up when his spent cock twitched in that hot, moist cavern, looking at him like he was the best thing he'd ever tasted – and then kissing him.
Blaine had never kissed him with such raw passion – not ever. Blaine had never tucked him back into his too-tight skinnies with such tenderness. Blaine had never looked at him with such dark longing that he felt his heart come up into his throat.
No, Blaine had never made him feel so alive, so ashamed and so scared all in the space of a few seconds.
He remembered that he'd stared at Puck speechlessly when the haze of lust had faded and seen another teenager without his mask of bravado. He remembered seeing the sadness come into Puck's eyes for a second before that mask slammed back into place and the Puck he was used to was back again in the Lopezes' closet.
He remembered Puck's words but he also remembered that he knew with amazing certainty, that Puck didn't mean a single word of it.
"Hey, Princess, don't get your knickers in a bunch. What's a blowjob between almost-friends?"
He had, of course, moments later confided to Mercedes what had happened while the music had made the house vibrate to the point where the Lopezes' neighbors had threatened to call the police. Though she had looked just a little disappointed with him, 'Cedes had nodded understandingly. He had been angry and hurt at his boyfriend's defection and this was his way of getting back, in some screwed up way, that is.
"I know he's a walking wet dream but you're not going to start anything with Puckerman, are you?" She had looked only a little worried but only a little; Kurt was pretty level-headed for a teenager, far more mature than most of their year-mates.
He had looked at her as if she'd grown another head. "Girl, please, can you see me with someone like him? I just had a moment of weakness, that's all. I blame it on the alcohol, sweetie!"
They laughed, both oblivious to the person standing nearby sipping from a beer bottle. Hazel-grey eyes watched the two friends intently. He couldn't hear what they were saying but he knew from their body language that Kurt had told his friend what had happened in the closet.
The disdain was clear from every haughty line of Kurt's body. Puck dropped his head, shaking it as he cursed himself. He had always wanted a go at the male diva; that smoking hot body and stormy eyes hid a tiger, he knew. Now, he'd had a taste and he knew he was going to want more. As to whether the diva would feel the same, he doubted it very, very much.
Noah Puckerman was normally a pretty self-confident person but the 'Puck' persona had developed when he realized he was on his own. On his own in the sense that, after his dad had walked out on him, he had no one to depend on. His mother resented him for looking just like his father and his sister barely spoke to him. She was a good few years younger than him and they had nothing in common. She was always with his mom and he feared that his mother's distaste for him and his dad would rub off on her.
'Puck' was his way of guarding himself from further pain. When his body developed earlier than most of the other kids' and both girls and older women started looking at him differently, he was set. 'Puck the sex-shark' and 'Puck the bad-ass m*****f*****' turned up at school and joined the high school's football team, the Titans, which just sealed it all.
Years of submerging his true personality beneath the fake made it easy for him now to hide his growing interest in the pale-skinned countertenor with the predilection for outrageous and too-sexy clothing. Just the way Kurt turned his pointed nose up in the air was enough sometimes to make Puck curse as he adjusted himself in his jeans. A part of him resented the unrelenting hold the other boy held over his libido and those days when it was particularly bad were the days when various Cheerios benefited from 'Puck the sex-shark's' ravenous attentions.
They'd certainly scream and rip out every strand of his awesome mohawk before kicking him out of their beds if they ever knew whose hot body he was picturing as he sank into them. The only person who ever came frighteningly close to figuring him out had been Santana. That damn girl must be a witch, he thought; a week after her party she had looked him straight in the eyes and smiled knowingly.
They had been enjoying one of their usual go 'rounds and he'd thought he was doing a pretty good job. That session, however, had ended a lot more quickly than either of them had planned and he'd had to call on every bit of his skill to bring her off so he could get out of there before the questions began. No such luck, however.
"So, Puckerman, who were you thinking of while you were doing me?" Her shiny dark eyes had stared at him so dangerously that he knew he had paled beneath his ever-present tan.
"Hey, babe, heh-heh, I'm the sex shark; there are a hundred people I could have been thinking about, y'know?" He shrugged, or tried to, hoping she'd drop the subject.
Santana continued to stare at him, the toes of one foot rubbing up and down his leg, tickling him even as he tried to appear unconcerned at her behavior.
"Yes, mi'jo, I am a bruja so I know you were thinking of just one particular person, not all of the skanks you do in this cow-town." She stuck her tongue in her cheek. "Blonde or brunette?"
Unbidden, Kurt's thick, dark hair came to his mind and his eyes flicked involuntarily to her head. He winced when he saw that she noticed. Her smile was not reassuring at all.
"Hmmm, dark-haired then. Cheerleader," she questioned, determined to narrow this down so she could go rip the bitch to pieces. When he relaxed slightly at that second question she stored that new piece of information; not a Cheerio, then.
"Hey, girl, what's with the third degree?" He tried to joke the whole thing off. "Come on, hotness, ready for round two?"
She rolled away from him off the bed and strode like a queen, heedless of her nakedness, to her bathroom. She started the shower, holding her hand beneath the water to feel the temperature as it heated.
"No, I don't think so, Puckerman. I think that little 'joyride' was the last one." She listened to him protest half-heartedly and knew in her heart that she was right. Someone was on his mind, had burrowed in so deep that he couldn't even fake it properly.
It wasn't that she didn't have a good time when she hooked up with Puck; no, she was a little angry that she was no longer No. 1 on his to-do list. Her pride was hurt and she was Santana Lopez; he wouldn't respect her if she didn't even make an attempt to track down the interloper.
Puck, sliding quickly into his woefully wrinkled jeans, winced as he settled his sensitive junk into the rough material. He never wore underwear – too sissy, he'd told Finn once – and slid his feet into his sneakers. He looked around wildly for his tee-shirt, finding it on the floor beside the bed and then turned to her.
She was standing by the shower, staring at him with those shiny, dark eyes and he gulped, a little frightened that she could really read his mind and see Kurt's face there.
"Don't worry, Puckerman, I won't hurt your little friend… much." She watched his Adam's apple bob convulsively at that statement. She didn't really plan to do anything really bad but she did like seeing that little spark of fear in people's eyes when they looked at her. She might not be the crazy alpha bitch cheerleading coach, Sue Sylvester, but she was formidable in her own right.
"'Tana, there's no one else I'm doing who means as much as you, you know that." He could almost sense the neon lights flashing 'liar!' above his head.
"Then why do I smell fear, huh, tell me that. You look like you're about to wet those jeans, and not in the good way, either."
"Uh," he thought fast. "Uhm, I just haven't been too hot these past few days, y'know. I think it's a lingering hangover from the party, or something." He tried the puppy-dog eyes and shit-eating grin, knowing even as he did that they wouldn't work.
"Pfft, you can drink every one of us under the table; don't give me that. Well, the only good thing is that she probably isn't putting out for you. That's why you're stuck on her, right?"
Puck's eyes fell to the floor but not before she saw the truth; she was a little startled actually because she could have sworn she'd seen sadness in his dark grey eyes. Huh, that's a shocker, she mused. The idiot probably thought he was in love!
A short bark of laughter left her lips and she looked almost startled at herself. Really, though, the sex shark, McKinley's own badass – in love? And she didn't love him back? Oh, wow, she had to tell the girls this one.
She continued to chuckle as she turned from him. "See yourself out, hmm? See you in school."
Dismissed.
Puck stood for a few seconds staring at the door, his shoulders slumped. The bitch had read him like a Nook, damn! He grabbed his backpack and left her bedroom, thundering down the stairs and out the front door without even noticing if anyone had been in the living room to see him leave.
He headed to his piece-of-shit truck thinking he was so freaking glad that graduation was coming up. Then he'd be out of there and on his way to California to start up his pool-cleaning business if all else failed. If the business went belly up, he could always fall back on his music. He knew he was pretty good at it and with his looks he was bound to make it somehow. He wasn't being conceited but that place was bound to be full of suckers who would want to get into his pants one way or another.
Right now, though, as his mood worsened, there was only one pair of jeans he really wanted into … and that was one hell of a pipe dream.
A week later, in a house across town, Kurt was standing in front of his capacious closet staring unseeingly at his clothes. He was supposed to be selecting his ensemble for the next day but his mind had closed down suddenly. He held in his hands the pair of jeans he'd worn to Santana's party. Usually he would put his dirty laundry in special hampers, one for the pants and one for his tops. Somehow, though, this one had been behind a rack that held some of his shoes and boots. He couldn't remember putting it there but he must have. No one else came into his closet; they had no reason to. Therefore he must have shoved the offending garment there because of the connotations now attached to it.
The closet around him disappeared and he was once again in the Santana's closet, staring at Puck. They had stared at each other for the briefest moment but in his memory a week later that moment seemed to telescope into a minute or more.
He would never forget that unguarded look in the larger boy's eyes… and he wished he could.
He had recently broken up with Blaine, his beautiful, talented, classy boyfriend who was supposed to be with him forever. Kurt had had it all planned, even with the misgivings that he always quashed because they made him feel disloyal. Blaine was to be part of his perfect life in New York; he would be heading to the Big Apple to start at NYADA and a year later Blaine would join him. That had been the plan.
The plan, unfortunately had been derailed by a leering, pinch-faced Warbler by the pretentious name of Sebastian. His stupidly sweet boyfriend had been lured away by the creep's dubious sex appeal and Kurt, unwilling to wait around while Blaine came to his senses, had broken up with the shorter boy.
He hadn't quite been devastated but he had certainly been disgusted by the thought of any part of Sebastian touching his ex-boyfriend and even now made a slight 'ewww' face at the Warbler's name.
No, he hadn't been devastated, just furious. That had led to the unfortunate Puck incident and a whole week of trying to avoid the jock's expressionless eyes. It was only when looking back at the week that he realized those eyes were unnaturally blank.
He hadn't even realized that he knew enough about the mohawked jock to know his current behavior was atypical. He must have been paying enough attention though because Puck's usual badass swagger was just a tad …. Kurt pondered the right word ... robotic. It was as if the muscular teen was on automatic pilot and his mind was always somewhere else.
Kurt tried not to frown – that was the way to need Botox before age 25 – but his mind frowned. He realized he had always been aware of Puck: Puck singing or playing the guitar; Puck hanging out with Finn and Artie during glee; Puck chatting up random Cheerios in the hallways; Puck heading off to the Nurse's office with a sly smirk and a wink.
He really hadn't known that he had noticed all these things over the last couple of years since the jock had joined the glee club. He huffed at himself, annoyed to be just as shallow as all those mouth-breathing girls who looked like they were ready to cream their panties at one wink from the mohawked clown.
He flung the jeans away from him and turned to leave the closet, still not having sorted out his outfit for the next day, and threw himself on the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering what it all meant and then his mind sabotaged him.
He was back in that closet and clutching Puck's thick hair, not guiding so much as hanging on for dear life. He had never felt anything like the way Puck sucked him and licked him and finally seemed to inhale him. His mind had blanked after the last fleeting thought – 'but he's straight!'
Puck's large hands had gripped his ass and squeezed and kneaded him so that he had groaned embarrassingly loudly, his fist flying up to his mouth to belatedly smother the sound.
Kurt hardened now as his mind swamped him with the memories and he moaned, his hand squeezing himself hard. He was not going to jerk off at the thought of Noah Puckerman going down on him!
He sat up now and clutched his head, sighing as he realized he was in serious trouble. He looked up at the sound of someone at his door. He tilted his head when he realized it was probably Finn.
"It's okay, Finn, you can come down," and watched as his door opened and Finn stepped hesitantly down the stairs. He smiled at the overly-tall youth and patted the bed beside him.
Finn came and sat gingerly on Kurt's bed. It wasn't often he was allowed on it; it was probably one of the best beds in the house but Kurt was kinda funny about his things. He looked at the paler teen now and cleared his throat.
"Mmmmm, you okay?" His eyes looked in concern at his stepbrother; he'd noticed that Kurt had seemed a little off the last few days.
Kurt smiled ruefully, trying to look grown up as he looked up at the other boy. "I suppose I've been better, thanks for asking."
Finn nodded and, taking his courage in both hands, took the plunge. "Kurt, you don't have to tell me but, did something happen at the party?"
He watched Kurt's eyes widen slightly but he knew he probably wouldn't get a straight answer; he had to ask though, that's what brothers did.
"Uhm, no, why?" Kurt had forgotten that they should stop underestimating Finn. He was out of it pretty much most of the time but sometimes he had moments of surprising perceptiveness.
Finn's mouth twisted a little to the side, making Kurt realize that he hadn't believed his too-swift answer. "I know you're excited about NYADA and everything but you were gazing off into space a whole heck of a lot this week. And you didn't look happy when you were doing it, either."
Kurt dropped his head back on his long neck, stared up at the ceiling and then decided to come clean. "Okay, let's just say that yes, something I hadn't planned happened but no, I don't want to tell you what."
Finn frowned at that kinda confusing answer. "Okay, but you'd tell me if someone did anything to you, wouldn't you?"
He watched, shocked, as color flooded the other teen's face. Then suddenly he realized what might have happened to make Kurt blush like that and now he, too, was blushing.
"Uh, you don't have to tell me details, dude, please!"
Kurt burst into chuckles at Finn's panicked response to his silent answer. He stopped fairly quickly though when he realized he couldn't actually give Finn details without effectively outing Puck.
He cleared his throat and then smiled at Finn, shaking his head. "No, Finn, no details. Suffice it to say that I'm seeing someone else in a whole new light and… and I don't know how to handle it."
Finn nodded his head sagely and then surprised Kurt. "Well, we only have a few weeks until graduation so if you can stick it out, you'll be okay."
Kurt smiled fondly at his stepbrother and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's a really good idea, Finn, thank you. And I am excited about New York and NYADA. It will be good to have you close, too."
They sat staring away from each other after that sentimental statement until Finn clapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"Hey, I actually came down here to tell you that Burt wants us to go out for family night dinner. That okay?"
Kurt smiled and nodded. "Yeah, of course, and we can use my baby."
Finn nodded happily and bounded up the stairs like nothing so much as an oversized puppy. Kurt grinned to himself and thanked the stars he'd got over his early crush on the boy. He shook his head at himself, wondering what the heck had got into him back then.
The Hummel-Hudson clan had decided against eating at Breadstix because everybody and his wife were always there. They headed across town to an Italian restaurant where Kurt knew his dad would try to sneak extra rolls because they were so good.
He hummed to himself as he drove, his mind not on anything in particular when he noticed a truck up ahead on the shoulder. It looked strangely familiar but he didn't spare it a thought apart from a generic 'poor guy, bad place to break down' and continued past the truck.
It was only when Finn gasped and spun around to try to see out of the back window that Kurt looked up into the rear view mirror. Sure enough, a familiar figure was just straightening up from the uplifted hood of the truck.
"Kurt, stop, that's Puck!"
Kurt immediately put on his indicator and pulled over, his heart hammering at the thought of seeing Puck close enough to talk to. As he parked, Burt and Finn threw their doors opened and stepped out carefully. It wasn't dark as yet as it was early summer but there was still traffic to be careful about.
They hurried to join Puck while Kurt and Carole stayed in the vehicle, Kurt glancing into his wing mirror surreptitiously to get another look at Puck. If his heart rate remained elevated for a few more minutes it was only natural, he told himself. Finn had really startled him when he yelled out.
He saw Finn jogging back to him and then Burt returning while Puck closed down the hood of his truck. Kurt held his breath but sighed anxiously when he realized Puck was going to be joining them.
Finn jumped into the opposite back seat and told Kurt breathlessly: "Burt invited Puck to join us for dinner. We're going to come and pick up his truck tomorrow."
Kurt just hummed, not even realizing that with Finn moved to the back seat it meant Puck would be in the passenger seat beside him. He stifled a little groan when the tanned teen slid his muscular body into the seat and Kurt tried everything in his power not to be aware of his presence.
Puck nodded at Carole, throwing her a seriously charming smile and thanking Burt again for inviting him along. Then: "Hey, Kurt, wassup?"
Kurt almost looked at him in surprise but caught himself in time. "Mmm, nothing, Noah."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Puck grin at him for the unnecessary emphasis he'd put on his given name. Seriously, though, he'd started it by using 'Kurt' when he usually called him 'princess' or some other ridiculous nickname. The corner of Kurt's mouth twitched, the traitor, but Kurt suppressed it firmly. He refused to be charmed by the promiscuous twit beside him. He concentrated on pulling out into traffic and they continued onto the restaurant.
Burt and Carole kept the conversation going by asking Puck about his mom and sister and about his plans for after school and Kurt hated to admit he was just as curious. He hadn't really seen Puck as the ambitious type but he had to admit that he was surprised the teen had plans to set up his pool business in California.
All the way to the restaurant he did his damnedest to ignore the sexual tension building between them but every time the other teen shifted, Kurt felt his eyes want to slide towards the tight, pale jeans encasing the muscular legs and framing that interesting bulge. The black button-down shirt stretched across his chest muscles didn't help either.
His breathing was a little erratic and he knew, if the interior of the car hadn't been so dim, someone would have been querying why he was so flushed. He breathed easier when they arrived and he was able to concentrate on finding an empty parking spot.
Eventually they all piled out and headed into the restaurant that looked like a family ranch-style house on the outside, Carole monopolizing Puck to Kurt's relief. Kurt waited for them to move ahead of him and startled as his dad came up beside him. Finn had already bounded ahead saying his stomach was growling but Kurt hadn't been aware his dad had been behind him.
"Kurt, you okay?"
Kurt only just refrained from rolling his eyes but he smiled sweetly at his dad. "Yes, dad, just peachy. You?"
He couldn't get much past his very observant dad and this time was no exception. "I'm good, kiddo, but I want to know why you're so tense around Puckerman. Is he bothering you?"
Kurt's eyes widened in alarm and he shook his head rapidly. "Dad, no! Noah's been good, it's just that I… ah… ahm…"
He tailed off as his dad's eyebrow rose skeptically. "You what?"
Kurt sighed, his shoulders slumped and he muttered. "I don't know what it is but…okay, I'm just going to say this."
Burt looked at him … waiting … but trying to look receptive so Kurt would just spit out whatever it was. His mouth hung open in surprise at what came next.
"I-I think he kinda likes me." Kurt closed his eyes and cringed as he waited for his dad's response.
"Wh-what are you telling me, Kurt? Puckerman's been putting the moves on you?"
Kurt's eyes flew open and he looked indignant at his father's incredulous tone. "You think it's impossible for Lima's man-whore to be interested in me, dad?"
He himself hadn't been too happy at the thought that Noah might be harboring feelings for him but his dad's incredulous reaction had hurt his pride or self-esteem or whatever, dammit!
"No, no, Kurt! It's not that but, it's just – isn't Puckerman straight?"
Kurt humphed and turned to head through the doors of the restaurant, his nose firmly stuck up in the air. He looked haughtily at his dad's confused expression.
"If you don't believe me, just do your usual hawk-eye thing and watch him at dinner. Okay?" And he stepped through the door, his father close behind him. He stalked to the large table his family was seated at and slid into the empty chair between Finn and Puck.
The evening wasn't too bad at all, considering the level of tension, but Kurt guessed he had Carole and Finn to thank for that. Burt hardly said a word; most of his time was divided between the really delicious Italian food served in generous portions as usual and staring between Puck and Kurt.
Kurt kept his eyes mostly on his plate, looking up only when he took a sip of his soda or answered one of Carole's queries.
As for Puck; if there ever was a time when he had wished for super powers, now would have been it. He wished for the power of invisibility. Truly, he had never felt so uncomfortable in the company of the Hummel-Hudsons before. Not even the fact that he had Kurt beside him helped. The singer kept his head down almost the whole time – which was pretty strange for him.
All in all, by the time they had decided to get their desserts to go and Burt had gone to pay the tab, both Puck and Kurt were worn out from the tension. Kurt felt like a headache was coming on and breathed a sigh of relief when they stepped out into the cooler night air.
He felt someone come up behind him and gasped slightly when Finn grabbed his arm. The immensely tall youth bent down so he could whisper to Kurt: "It's him, isn't it?"
Kurt shrugged out of his grasp but nodded. "Yes, but please don't say anything, Finn. Promise me!" His voice was a vicious whisper, making Finn know that he would pay dearly if he said anything.
Finn frowned down at him. "Chill, dude, I won't say anything. Promise!"
"Okay," Kurt nodded and turned to wait for their parents and Puck to catch up to them.
The ride back to their side of town was just as tense, Kurt sparing a brief glance at Puck's POS truck as they passed it. The mohawk turned as its owner watched it when they flew past it, his mouth turning down slightly as they did.
Finally, Kurt pulled up outside of Puck's house and he threw the vehicle into park. He waited.
"Thanks for dinner and the help tomorrow, Mr. Hummel, Carole. I'll see you, Finn," and he hopped out of the passenger seat. Finn had come out of the back seat so he could take the passenger seat but Burt, too, had left the vehicle.
Kurt watched in dismay as his dad walked with Puck up the driveway and as they stood talking outside the front door, Kurt couldn't help but wonder what the heck his dad was saying to the boy.
Puck stared at the ground as he waited for Burt Hummel to light into him for whatever he thought was happening between him and Kurt. There was no way the older man couldn't see that something had changed. Finally, the man started to talk but Puck just couldn't look up at him.
"Hey, kid, you seemed pretty tense tonight." Burt waited for Puck to look at him but he didn't.
Puck shrugged his shoulders and then remembered he had to be polite to this man. "Uhm, yeah, I guess."
Burt sighed. "Look, I have eyes, okay? I saw the way you struggled not to stare at my son tonight. What's changed?"
Puck flinched when Burt asked that and began to stutter. He stopped and then took a deep breath, finally looking up at the older man. He was very surprised then when he realized the man wasn't angry with him. Not at all. Instead, he looked pretty sympathetic.
"I think I'm developing feelings for… I think I might like Kurt?" He hadn't meant for it to sound like a question but heck, he himself didn't understand what was going on at all. He knew he'd always thought Kurt was hot but when the boy had come on to him at the party, clearly having had more to drink than he should have, he'd found that he couldn't say no to him.
When they'd finished up in that closet and the taste of Kurt was searing the back of his throat, he hadn't thought he would kiss him. He hadn't thought, even while kissing him, that he would have craved more of the pale, beautiful boy. He hadn't thought he would then spend the whole of the following week in a fucking daze, trying to figure out what the heck was wrong with him.
He couldn't tell this man all of that, though, so he settled for sounding pathetic. Hopefully, the man would be too embarrassed, as embarrassed as he was, and just drop the whole thing. Wishful thinking.
Burt clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Look, kid, I'm no expert but I know it couldn't have been easy having your perception of yourself turned upside down, especially if people aren't going to be supportive."
Puck looked up in continuing surprise at this man. Kurt's dad was really a good man. He hadn't threatened him with castration or anything; he actually seemed sympathetic and damn if he didn't feel tears coming on. He wished his own dad had stuck around; maybe he would have turned out like Burt Hummel. Maybe.
He hung his head and prayed to God the tears wouldn't come. The man in front of him seemed to sense it because he looked away and Puck was grateful. He sighed in relief when Burt Hummel finally decided to head back to his waiting family.
"Okay, I guess that's enough for tonight. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Puck looked up this time with a little smile lighting his face for maybe the first time that evening.
"Thanks, sir, you're the best."
"Yeah, yeah, tell Naomi good night for me. See ya!"
Puck watched him walk back down the drive to the large, shiny dark vehicle. It was too dark tonight for him to even make out Kurt behind the driver's wheel but he had a feeling the other teen wouldn't be looking out at him anyway. He shrugged and turned to go into his house.
He was startled, however, when Kurt tooted sharply once and then pulled away. He slipped inside the house with a smile on his face and felt for the first time in a week as if life wasn't out to get him.
Now here he was, a week after that, singing his heart out to a stone-faced diva. He had decided on the song when he had heard it on the radio that morning. His arrangement of it was vastly different from the hit but he thought it conveyed the same hopeless quality as the original. He knew he would never have a chance with Kurt; really, what did he have to give someone as bright, as beautiful, as talented and star struck as Kurt. He was meant for greater things; he was meant for the Great White Way. He wasn't meant for the likes of Noah Puckerman whose big dream was taking his pool-cleaning business to the opposite coast from the boy he was falling in love with.
As far as the east is from the west… the quote came back to him and he realized how apt it was for his situation. He and Kurt Hummel were like night and day. He was a jock; the boy was a diva who thought jocks were Neanderthals. He would have sworn at one time that Kurt never got his hands dirty if he could help it if it hadn't been for that Saturday when he'd watched Kurt and his dad working in their garage.
That day had been a day of more revelations than the past two weeks had provided. Seeing Kurt in a messy mechanic's overalls and with his hair without any product had nearly given him a heart attack at his tender age. He had had to bite his lip and turn away when he'd noticed a smudge of oil and dirt on one of those perfect cheeks. In fact, he had had to slip his hands into his jeans pockets to stop them from reaching for the boy and wiping his face clean.
He had managed to collect himself and be his usual cool badass self the whole damn day as he watched Kurt's pert ass when he bent over an engine. He was so happy that Burt hadn't called him on his ogling, though he knew the man had caught him at it a couple of times.
Burt himself had worked on his car and he was blown away when the man had finished and refused to take any payment for it. Instead, he'd looked at him with a sly smile and said: "When I have a pool one day, you can come clean it for me."
Puck's eyes had widened before he'd grinned and thanked the man again. He had taken one last lingering look at Kurt who had pretty much ignored him the whole time he was there, jumped into his truck and tooted Mr. Hummel as he'd driven away.
Now he glanced back down at his guitar as he sang the last few lines of the song with his heart in his throat, knowing the questions would start the moment he finished.
I would go through all this pain, take a bullet straight through my brain
Yes I would die for you, baby, but you won't do the same.
No, you wouldn't do the same; ooh, you'd never do the same
Oh no, no, no…
Kurt stared at him and through him then, with a quick look down at Mercedes, took his messenger bag and stalked from the choir room.
Puck sat slumped on the stool, his eyes trained on the now still guitar strings… and waited.
Mr. Schue was the first to comment: "Ahhh, well done, Puck, great choice. I didn't think this was the direction you'd go but it was really good."
That was the cue for everyone else to jump in – from Finn's sympathetic "dude, I don't think that helped at all" to Santana's spiteful "so that's the way it's swingin'!"
When Rachel chimed in, however, with a "that's not the way to serenade someone, Noah!", he'd had enough. Without a word, he gathered up his stuff, barely glanced at Mr. Schue and left the choir room.
His heart stuttered when he rounded the corner of the last corridor before reaching the school's front doors and saw Kurt waiting for him. The late afternoon sun picked up the auburn highlights in his dark hair and as Puck grew closer he saw the blue-green eyes were nearly a stormy blue-grey.
"What the hell was that, Puckerman?" Kurt's high voice was steely and perfect and Puck had to slow down before he reached him, giving himself time to compose his face.
"The assignment!" His retort was just as steely as Kurt's and he saw the other teen's lips tighten as if he hadn't expected that response. "Schue told us to serenade someone we wouldn't normally sing to and that's what I did. If you have a problem, take it up with him."
With that he strode past the angry, now-flushed boy and pushed the doors open. He took the broad steps two at a time and headed swiftly to his truck. He and Kurt had nothing to say to each other; what was there to say anyway? Sorry I'm into you; sorry you're not into me? Give me a chance? Hell no, Noah Puckerman doesn't beg; has never begged and it wasn't about to start with one self-absorbed diva of a boy.
He threw his guitar unto the passenger seat and made to slide into the truck when a small, surprisingly strong hand jerked him back. What the_?
Kurt was up in his face, the faint freckles on his fair face brighter in the afternoon sunlight. His eyes were blazing up at Puck and without a thought, Puck kissed him.
He vaguely registered the hand that had grabbed him was now pushing him away but it had been two weeks since Puck had last tasted him and for his own life he couldn't stop. He slid his hands up the long neck to grasp his head firmly, forcing open the sweet lips and sliding his tongue in to explore.
Kurt struggled but Puck was far stronger than he was and, truth to tell, he was beginning to wonder why he was even struggling. He had never experienced a kiss like this before and all his cells seemed to come alive at the feel of the Jewish teen's body against his.
He felt himself slumping against Puck who held him easily and he moaned – something he would kick himself for later – as he accepted that strong muscle mapping every surface of his mouth.
For the first time he felt Puck's erection against him and he felt branded by its heat. He gasped and tore his mouth away, staring up at the teen now looking back at him with a faint dismay beginning to invade his dark grey eyes.
Kurt closed his eyes and licked his lips, hearing the other teen groan and then he slumped his head forward against the muscular chest. His arms slid around Noah's waist and he turned his face to the side, sniffing slightly as he muttered: "I hate you."
He felt Noah's arms go gently around him, a marked contrast to that ferocious kiss and realized that he was chuckling softly. "Well, I think you know now that I don't hate you."
Kurt took a step back from the taller teen and folded his arms around himself, looking up at the boy before and shaking his head. "I-I don't know what to feel. You're supposed to be straight, y'know?"
Puck shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, heedless of the way the action stretched the fabric across his prominent bulge. He shrugged as he looked back up at the boy stood wavering in front of him.
"I don't want to feel this way, believe me. You sorta took me by surprise…"
Kurt frowned at his words and huffed impatiently. "But… what are we supposed to do now? We can't be boyfriends and anyway, we'll be heading in different directions in a few weeks' time. What happens now?"
Puck straightened and frowned at him, thinking for a minute before he spoke. "Who said anything about boyfriends?" He stared angrily at Kurt, realizing that he did want that and hating the way Kurt had dismissed it out of hand.
Kurt quirked an eyebrow at him sardonically. "You almost devour me in the school's parking lot and you don't want to be boyfriends?"
Puck glared at him before staring off towards the huge building, out of which was beginning to pour the rest of the glee club members. He shrugged and looked back at the beautiful boy glaring back at him.
"Look, things just got out of hand, alright? I know you have big plans for taking New York by storm and I'm heading west to start up my own business. This whole boyfriend thing is just juvenile bullshit. Y'know what, I'm outta here."
Kurt stepped back as Noah jumped into the truck and started it up angrily. He knew he'd hurt the other boy somehow but he was seriously confused. The boy seemed to have feelings for him; hadn't being together as boyfriends figured into any of this?
He shook his head as Puck peeled out of the parking lot after throwing an angry look his way. Boys, he would never ever be able to figure them out, Kurt mused as he walked over to his own vehicle. He didn't want to be hanging around when the rest of the gleeks caught up with him. He couldn't handle their asinine comments and questions right now.
When he got home his dad was already there, seated in front of the TV and catching up on a Deadliest Catch marathon.
"Hey, dad, been home long?"
Burt looked up at his words, his expression changing as he noticed Kurt's face. "Nah, not long. How 'bout you – okay?"
He doubted it because Kurt had that look about him of a volcano just getting set to blow. Come to think of it, his face wasn't only blotchy but his mouth looked a little swollen. He straightened up and clicked the TV off with the remote.
Kurt sighed, knowing that was a signal for him to come sit and talk. He did so reluctantly, knowing he couldn't get anything past his dad.
"It's okay, dad, I just had a little run-in with Noah, that's all."
Burt looked at him: "What kind of run-in?"
When Kurt immediately blushed, Burt looked at him closely before asking: "Did he try something with you? I did teach you how to defend against a bigger guy, didn't I?"
"Dad! No, nothing like that, I didn't have to knee him in the family jewels or anything!"
Kurt looked scandalized, a look that made his dad want to chuckle. Still, he really did want to know what had gone down between the boys so he just raised an eyebrow and waited and sure enough, Kurt spilled.
"Uh, it started when Mr. Schue wanted us to serenade someone we wouldn't normally sing to. I had no idea Noah was going to go first but he sang to me and… let me just say it wasn't completely flattering."
"And…?" Burt made a rotating gesture with his hand indicating that Kurt should continue when he'd paused for too long.
"Well, I left and waited for him outside and then I confronted him but he just blew me off. I wasn't having that, of course, so I went after him."
"Kurt, haven't you learned your lesson with that Karofsky kid? That stuff you told me… about the locker room?"
Kurt simply pooh-poohed him as if it was no longer relevant and barged ahead with his story. "Yeah, yeah, dad, but this is Noah, y'know. Anyway, as I was saying he brushed me off and I ran after him. I caught up to him at his truck and then… and… I, uhm…"
He stuttered to a halt and then blushed tomato red as his dad stared at him, waiting for him to finish up. "And then he… uhm, kissed me…"
He trailed off as he watched his dad palm his face tiredly. The man finally looked up at his son fidgeting nervously and shook his head. "Kid, when will you learn? What – are you catnip to these jocks? Geeze!"
"Dad! Catnip? Where do you get this stuff?"
"You tell me, Kurt; why do boys kiss you when they are angry? What's up with that; is it a 21st century thing?"
"Blaine didn't ever kiss me when he was angry!" He stopped when his dad held up a protesting hand, clearly not wanting too much information on his love life with his ex-boyfriend.
"And the first time Noah wasn't angry either." When there was only silence he suddenly realized what he'd revealed. "Uhm, whoops?"
Burt stared at his son disbelievingly. "The first time? Kurt, what the hell aren't you telling me?"
Kurt sprang up and began to pace before the couch on which his father was now leaning forward, his hands clasped between his knees as he watched him.
"Well, we may have made out, sort of, at Santana's party a couple of weeks ago…" he trailed off as he saw realization dawn on his father's face.
"So that was the source of all that tension the night at the restaurant." He didn't make it a question but he understood better now.
He had come to terms with the fact that people were going to find his son attractive and that he would eventually become sexually active but he'd always been in denial that Kurt had been intimate with his ex. Now though he had no choice but to accept that his baby was growing up… had almost finished growing up… and he was a young man who was going to make his own decisions, good and bad, and have to deal with the consequences.
"So, what, you strung him along and then ignored him? Is that it?" Burt didn't look at Kurt as he said this. He was still holding onto the last shreds of his denial and was dying to hear his baby boy refute everything loudly and passionately.
When Kurt didn't say anything he sighed and slumped back against the couch, looking up to see Kurt staring back at him resignedly.
"No, dad, I didn't string him along but I also didn't know that there were any feelings to string along, to begin with." He came and sat on the coffee table, leaning forward earnestly as he tried to make himself and his dad understand what had happened.
"I would never play with someone else's feelings, you know that. Noah and I made out at the party but, at the end, I realized that something deeper was under the surface. He never, ever indicated that he could be interested. He's straight!"
Burt chuckled a little at the confused and slightly outraged look on his son's fair face. How he wished his mother could have been here to see how well he'd grown up. He thought he'd done a good job raising him and facing all the changes and struggles they had gone through together. It hadn't been easy dealing with all the hate calls and the pranks and the plain ignorance of some folks in this town but they had done it and now his boy was going to New York to follow his dreams. He frowned as he re-thought that last bit.
"So, Puck, uhm, Noah is heading out to California, huh?" He watched Kurt nod glumly. Hmmm, the boy seemed a little down about that. Maybe Puck's – uh, Noah's feelings weren't so one-sided after all.
Kurt sighed. "Yeah, I guess he figures he could expand from what he's been doing here. He has all that experience and guitarists/singers are a dime a dozen there, he says."
Burt raised an eyebrow at him and he smirked. "No, he didn't tell me directly; I overheard him trying to persuade Finn to come out there with him."
"So, anything you guys started would be doomed, huh?" Burt felt a little sad for his boy; there weren't many options here for him to find love and he had a strange feeling that, opposite coasts or not, Noah was going to find it hard to forget Kurt.
"Kurt," he called to his son whose gaze seemed to be far away. He patted the couch and Kurt slid onto it next to him. "Honestly, do you think you could really like Noah; I mean in the same way I think he likes you?"
He watched the color flood the smooth cheeks as his son looked away from him. "Dad, why aren't you freaked about Lima's badass perving on me?"
"Because, kiddo, a long, long time ago, I was Noah Puckerman." He smiled as Kurt gaped at him. "Oh, yes, your mother's father hated me on sight; said I wasn't good enough for his princess. Darn thing was I already knew that; but she loved me and I loved her more. The old man died without ever accepting that. Caused your mom no end of heartache, the old buzzard."
Kurt sniffled before asking: "So, in a way you see yourself like Noah? Dad, you're nothing like him."
"Hmm, maybe not on the surface but he loves something that is good and fine and apparently out of his reach. Where we're different is that he seems too intimidated to fight for it."
He suppressed a snort as he watched that sink in and Kurt's flustered face turned suddenly towards him.
"Wait, you want him to fight for me? Dad, are you okay?" Kurt's concerned eyes made Burt laugh out loud this time.
"Kurt, you deserve to have someone fight for you at least once in your life. Noah is a good boy, a little misguided and he definitely could have done with a stable father-figure in his life. But, Kurt, you could do a whole lot worse than Noah Puckerman."
Kurt sat in stunned silence, wondering who had body-snatched his dad and when it had happened. Noah Puckerman was a good boy? Good in the sack, maybe, as he'd heard countless times from various cheerleaders' conversations. Good in the pool-cleaning, MILF-servicing area, maybe. But, a 'good boy'? Kurt wanted to laugh outright but he didn't want to offend his dad.
For some reason his dad, the same one who had slammed Karofsky against a locker and nearly strangled him with his arm across his throat; the same one who had thrown Finn out of the house for using the word 'faggy' several times to Kurt; this same dad was now practically telling him to give Noah Puckerman a chance.
Kurt looked his dad over carefully and then met his eyes, his own serious and measuring. "Dad, you know we are not 21st century versions of you and mom, right? Furthermore, you can't force love and I don't think I could ever love Noah."
Yeah? Burt thought cynically as he took in his son's serious face, you're already half-way there, buddy. He simply nodded, though. "I know that, Kurt, but I'm just saying don't close yourself off, okay? You might just be surprised. People don't always fit in the little boxes we have for them in our heads, remember that."
Kurt nodded slowly, acknowledging the wisdom in his father's words. He knew he had a tendency to underestimate people; it was a trait he really didn't like in himself and had resolved to try and change. He made a decision now to think on his dad's words and see what happened. He was too young to be closed off and New York was nothing if not about possibilities and potentialities.
He smiled as he leaned against his dad, watching as he took up the remote and clicked the TV on again. Another episode of Deadliest Catch was beginning and he settled in to watch it until Finn and Carole got in. Then he'd help her with dinner and then they would all sit down to eat.
His mind wandered to the tanned, muscular teen that, in two weeks, had made him feel more than in the two years he had known Blaine and been his boyfriend and, eventually, lover. Noah was a formidable lover, he would give him that – but could he be more?
Puck had driven straight to a convenience store to get some beer with his fake ID. Seriously, he really didn't look 18 so it had never been a hassle so now he had the six-pack and was heading back home. When he pulled in he sighed in relief that his mom was not at home as yet; which also meant his sister wasn't either so he had the house to himself.
As he hopped out of the truck he realized he should bring in the mail and, hauling his guitar out of the vehicle, he slung it over his shoulder before heading to the mailbox. He grabbed the stuff – magazines, bills, flyers – and his eyes clung to an oblong white envelope. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the logo in the upper left corner and his name and address centered perfectly on it.
He hurried into the house, nearly dropping everything as he struggled to get the key in the door and, finally inside, flung himself onto the ratty couch.
He said a quick, silent prayer before carefully opening the envelope. If it was positive, his plans would definitely change for the better; if negative, then things would continue the way he'd planned. He bit his lip as several pieces of paper fell out but he grabbed the top one and, holding his breath, he began to read, not stopping until he'd gone on to the end of the second sheet of paper.
His shoulders slumped and tears, unbidden, came to his eyes. He didn't know what his mom would say; heck, he didn't even know if he'd say anything. Certainly she didn't care anything about him but maybe she had a right to know.
A small smile grew and grew until he was crowing loudly in the empty room, his fist punching the air. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
He didn't care that he sounded maniacal laughing like that to himself but his private dream had just come true. Yes, he'd told everyone about his plans for California and servicing pools and hot babes but this, this was his true dream, the one his heart had thudded hardest over as he'd written the letter, done the essay, filled out the application forms, everything sorted perfectly and sent off.
Now the Phillips Beth Israel School of Nursing had accepted Noah Puckerman into their three-year nursing course starting next semester. Oh god, he was going to New York!
He was going to be in New York when Kurt was going to be there. His elation dimmed somewhat for after the 'boyfriend' conversation by his truck earlier, would Kurt even care that Noah would be in the same city as him? He highly doubted it. He didn't even think he would tell him… or anyone else for that matter.
He glanced down at the various sheets of paper that had fallen onto his lap and he smiled softly. Even if Kurt didn't know he was going to be in New York too, he was over the moon at his acceptance. It felt so good to be accepted – and to get a full ride scholarship! Man, they must have been seriously impressed with his essay.
He really wanted to get involved in pediatric nursing; he had a soft spot for kids and he knew he wanted to work with seriously ill kids. He could put his musical skills to good use, too; they wouldn't get rusty if he could play for the kids, would they?
Now he got up, gathered up all his papers, making sure none had fallen to the floor and headed up to his room. He really needed to call Kurt but he didn't know what, if anything, there was to say to the little diva. He almost felt as if he could still taste him and feel the heat of him but he shook his head at himself; no use pining after the moon, Puckerman. That's for losers and now, with that college acceptance letter safely in his room, he was not going to be a Lima loser after all.
Yeah, he thought to himself as the hot water sluiced down his back and the tension slowly drained away, in a few weeks' time he'd be out of this dumb town and headed out to make something of himself. Let everyone think he'd gone out west. He would follow his dream east; and if his mind whispered 'which dream?', he firmly ignored it.
The End
A/N 2: The lyrics of Grenade are credited to Bruno Mars et al and sung by Bruno Mars.