Awesome playlist (YouTube): www. youtube playlist?list=PL1D40BD156E2DE4EE

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What do you want
What do you want from us
To ask you this much is just a matter of trust, not an affront
What do you want

What do you want
Few would be true to your point of view if they knew what you want
Who here would choose to walk in those shoes
Even you can't
So what do you want
What do you want from us
What do you want

What do you want
What do you want that you cannot say
Show us the faith we're supposed to display
Come what may - you can't
What do you want
What do you want from us
What do you want

What do you want
What do you want from us
It's a matter of trust that you tell us just what you want from us

Gotye, "What Do You Want"

Dave knew he'd never tell Kurt about the dream. But Puck - well, there wasn't much that was hidden between them, not even the crazy scary stuff that embarrassed the crap out of him even to think about it. So, that morning, getting dressed, he considered it. At breakfast he thought about it again, and yet again while feeding the cats.

Puck was breaking in a new purple belt. Out of the cellophane, they were very stiff and nearly impossible to tie properly, so he always went through this routine of twisting and worrying them in his hands before presenting them to a student, just to get them soft enough to wear. Dave watched the tendons in his forearms stand out as Puck wrestled with the heavy layers of fabric.

"When's his belt test?" Dave said, getting the eggs out of the fridge.

"Her," said Puck. "It's on Sunday. She's ready. I don't think she thinks she is, though."

Dave watched Puck's shoulders, the way he was breathing a little too fast, the clenching of his strong fingers around the belt as he twisted. "Somebody I know?"

Puck didn't look at him, but his mouth turned up in a little smile. "Look who's so fucking intuitive."

"Look who knows the word intuitive." Dave cracked two eggs into a bowl and added a little water, whisking them together. He smashed a couple garlic cloves with salt and added them to the hot oil. "It's Beth, isn't it?"

"She's been putting it off for weeks. I think it's because I'm not teaching her classes now? I mean, she's got this great instructor, don't get me wrong, but she tells me all the time how she misses me at the dojo, how it's not the same anymore since I moved to Columbus." He rolled his eyes at Dave. "Seriously, I think it's just that she's pissed I'm not there to take her out for ice cream afterwards."

"Priorities, when you're nine," Dave agreed. He threw in a handful of chives and some chopped olives. "So you think she's ready."

"Totally." Puck gave the belt another ferocious twist. "She knows all the forms; she's got great posture; her kicks are strong. Even sparring, she can hold her own against the bigger kids, and you know how tiny she is. I think they underestimate her because she's a girl. And blonde."

Dave nodded slowly. "You don't think that maybe she's afraid?"

"Afraid?" Puck scoffed. "Beth's not afraid of shit. What do you think she'd be afraid of?"

"All kinds of stuff. Screwing up, making a mistake. Embarrassing herself. Disappointing you."

Something in Dave's voice must have tipped Puck off that this wasn't just about Beth's purple belt test. He paused and set the belt on the table, watching Dave add eggs to the pan.

"Okay," Puck said slowly, and paused again. He poured himself a glass of orange juice, waiting. Dave gritted his teeth and sighed.

"I had... a dream. About somebody."

"A dream. Like, a sex dream?"

Dave winced. "Yeah, a sex dream. And it was really awful, and I don't particularly want to talk about it." Yeah, that's believable, considering you're the one bringing it up, Dave.

"Awful, huh?" Puck grinned. "So awful you were grossed out, or so awful you were really fucking turned on? And - wait, this was last night?" He drank his juice and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Huh. Maybe I should assume it was the second one, then?"

"God." Dave closed his eyes, moving carefully away from the hot stove first. "I don't know why I said anything at all."

"Hey, don't feel like you have to. Sex dreams, you know, they're like... construction cones." He gestured with his juice, sloshing it a little. "You don't have to pay attention to them, but they're there, pointing something out. Saying, hey, you should probably slow down a little, and look at what you're doing."

Dave decided, at this rate, he'd better get the eggs out of the pan before they burned. He spooned them into a bowl and covered them with a handful of cheese. "Construction cones. You're warped, you know that?"

"Hey, you're the one with the awful sex dream." Puck's pose, leaning back in his chair, legs splayed, was far too cocky. He reached down to scratch Pascal's back as the cat walked by. "So are you going to tell me about it or not?"

"Not. Definitely not." Dave glared at the bowl of eggs.

"You're not going to tell me? So why'd you mention it, then?"

He's being way too fucking logical. "It was stupid anyway. Forget it."

Puck eyebrows flickered up, then down, and he bent down to scoop Pascal into his lap. "I bet I know who was in it."

Dave didn't say anything, because really, when it came down to the people Dave had ever had sexual fantasies about, the sample size just wasn't that big. Puck accepted a plate of eggs with a smile, and they ate breakfast without further mention of Dave's dream. It wasn't until after Puck had finished the dishes that he took Dave's hand and hauled him into a kiss. Dave didn't resist very long.

"What was that for?" he asked, a little dazed, and Puck shook his head, giving him a gentle push toward the stairs.

"Too much talking. What, you think telling me about your sordid sex fantasies isn't going to turn me on?"

That did seem to be the case, and Dave could only feel a little guilty about it, because he knew Puck was totally into him, and no matter what kind of dreams he'd had, Dave wasn't actually wanting anybody else.

Except, apparently, he was, because Puck leaned close against his ear in the middle of everything and whispered, "Tell me your dream."

"Right now?" Dave groaned, and Puck's teeth drew the groan out further as his hands splayed across Dave's back, pulling him in deeper.

"Yeah, babe, right now. Come on." Puck's breathing was already short, and he made that completely irresistible whimpering noise as Dave's thrusts became forceful and erratic. "God."

"You're completely fucking insane." But really, Dave wasn't fooling either of them, because he could feel just what his rough voice and intensified movements were doing to Puck. He wrapped a hand around Puck's neck and pulled him into his chest. He was not going to be able to look Puck in the eye while he said... what he was going to say. He took a deep breath.

"It was at McKinley," he said. Because it was always at McKinley with Kurt, even long after he stopped admitting even to himself he was still having fantasies about him. "In the hallway, after school. Nobody was around. Over by the trophy case. He... he got down on his knees."

Puck's response was immediate and really not very surprising to Dave, but that didn't make it less hot to feel him go boneless and thrust helplessly against Dave's stomach. "Fuck."

Dave could see the image so clearly, still, the way Kurt had gazed up at him, pleading with his eyes, his lips trembling. "He... begged me. Unzipped my jeans, and... god, Puck, you really want -"

"Yeah," Puck said, tucking a hand down in between their bodies and gripping himself firmly. "I do, come on. What else?"

He didn't even have to reach to remember the details, which maybe was the most embarrassing thing of all. "I could hear... the janitor's footsteps, down the hall, the slam of each door, his vacuum, as he got closer to us... still far enough away, but it was definitely risky..."

"Was that hot?" Puck said, and it did kind of sound like he was begging a little. "To hear him, to know he could have found you any time?"

"Maybe?" Dave was embarrassed enough, thinking of Kurt, of the way he'd shamelessly dug his fingers into Dave's hips, the way his mouth looked, his eyes impossibly blue in the still-pale face of his high school self.

"I can feel just how hot it is for you, babe. So what'd he do? Did he make you come so hard...?"

"No - actually, we got interrupted." It wasn't anything, it was just the stupid logic of dreams, because really, he could have been doing anything. Dreams were symbols, maybe, but - he clasped Puck tighter, feeling the tension build between them. "That was pretty much it."

He felt a little bad for cutting Puck's enjoyment of his fantasy so short, but Puck rolled with it, and neither of them were complaining five minutes later. Lying on his back, recovering his equilibrium and letting his stomach muscles uncurl, Dave felt Puck's gentle hand on his chest. It still surprised him how delicate Puck's touch could be.

"What else happened?" he asked. He wasn't demanding anything now. Dave glanced down at him, surprised.

"What makes you think there was anything else?"

"You think I'm going to give away your tells? Forget it."

"Oh, that's going to make me feel safe, sharing this shit with you," Dave grumbled. Puck chuckled and rolled in, throwing one leg over his thighs.

"You don't have to tell me. But you can, you know. I don't care what it is."

Yeah, you might. Dave sighed and ran a hand over Puck's velvet head. "The guy. The one who interrupted us. It was... uh, it was the janitor."

"Yeah?" Puck sounded curious. "What was he -"

"He was you, okay?" That came out a little harsher than he intended, and Puck cut off short.

"Oh." After a brief pause, Puck let his hand find Dave's, and he held on tight. "Was I... I mean, how'd I react?"

Dave thought of dream-janitor-Puck's completely unsurprised expression, not excited, not egging him on, but just silently watching, and his barely perceptible nod as their eyes met. "You were... fine, I guess."

Puck leaned in a little closer, and kissed Dave's shoulder. "Yeah. I guess I would be, huh?"

Dave could tell Kurt and Puck were discussing spring break over the phone. Again. He could hear the odd word around the corner from the kitchen, but he was trying to ignore it as best he could, and focus on the spaghetti sauce. It wouldn't do any good to get annoyed about it. Not yet, anyway.

"Okay, man," he heard, and Puck appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He had this unconscious (or, possibly entirely intentional) male model pose thing down, and Dave didn't even bother not staring in appreciation. He knew Puck didn't mind. "We'll talk about it. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Don't go shopping for summer outfits yet. Yeah. Tell Vincent hi from me when you talk to him. See you."

He kept his eyes on the saucepan. "How's Kurt doing, then?"

"Not so good. He's pretty lonely. Vincent doesn't have any time for him to visit at all this spring, and it's getting him down, you know?" Puck shrugged. "I mean, I can't even imagine spending a year away from you. That would totally suck. I think I would lose my mind."

Dave nodded, still looking at the sauce. "Yeah, I know." A year apart - he couldn't really imagine it, and he tried not to, anyway. For now, he and Puck were in Columbus, together. No use worrying about it.

Pascal jumped down from the kitchen chair where he was curled up and padded over to the stove, rubbing against Dave's ankles and meowing. Dave knew he wouldn't give up until he got some kind of tidbit, but tomato sauce probably wasn't very good for cats, so he dropped a piece of sausage on the floor. Because he was a fair-minded individual, he cut another small slice and left it in Penumbra's bowl, for her to enjoy whenever she came out of hiding.

"Just... I thought we should do something for him, you know? Because he's your best friend and all."

Dave decided not to mention the fact that Puck had been on the phone with Kurt as much as Dave had, these past months. And Puck and Vincent talked about soccer for what seemed like hours. Really, it wasn't clear at all whose friends were whose anymore. But Dave didn't mind it. There was nothing wrong with Puck trying to help Kurt out here. It was nice. Thoughtful.

Puck leaned in and dipped a wooden spoon in the saucepan, filching a sample. "So we were talking... he's got this week of vacation time saved up, and Connor can handle the dojo for a week while you're on spring break. Right?" He tasted the sauce. "Mmmm. What's that, basil?"

"Right," Dave said slowly, because he wasn't sure if he liked the direction this was going, but nothing Puck was saying was wrong. "Yeah, basil and oregano. Does it need more?"

"You know I'm always in favor of more." Puck grinned at Dave and picked up a handful of dried herbs, tossing them into the saucepan where the oil was already hot. He shoved them around a little with the spatula before handing it to Dave. Puck didn't have any patience for cooking. Things mostly ended up getting burned.

Puck pulled out a chair and sat backwards on it, watching Dave cook. "Yeah, so we thought, someplace warm might be good, take his mind off things... give him something to do. You know, something fun." He shrugged. "Maybe meet somebody."

"So what you're saying is, you and Kurt want to go party on a beach somewhere with disgusting neon drinks and not a lot of clothes."

"No, man." Puck's smile reached brilliance. "We want you to come along, too."

Dave snorted. "Yeah, that would be perfect. I'd fit right in. Come on." He stirred the sauce some more.

"You'd have a great time. No, I'm serious! Don't give me that fucking look. Kurt read all about it. There's 24-hour room service, all inclusive, and a casino, and an observation deck with telescopes, and -"

Dave stopped what he was doing and turned towards him. "You mean you actually have somewhere - wait. Observation deck?"

"Uh." The table was suddenly of great interest to Puck. "Maybe." After a moment, he glanced up, and seeing the world wasn't ending, he launched back into his description. "And there's all these day trips off the ports of call, I mean, it's not all one big party, we could go hiking and kayaking and... what?"

Dave stared at him. "A cruise. You actually want me to go on a cruise with you."

This time the ceiling was of utmost importance. "Yeah. A... well, a gay cruise."

"A gay -" Dave laughed. "Are you fucking serious? Look at me. Does this look like a person who would like to go on a gay cruise?" The only good thing he could see about the idea was that it was too ridiculous to get angry about.

"Come on, it's for Kurt! It's just what he needs. I could totally hook him up with somebody hot and take his mind off missing Vincent for at least a week. Seriously, what's the use of taking a break from a relationship if you're not going to take a break?" Puck shook his head in obvious irritation. "And you know Kurt, he's just moping around doing nothing every weekend, watching those cheesy musicals of his. He's going to turn into a freaking couch potato. He needs some help from his friends." Puck pointed at him. "From you. Dude. Come on."

Okay, so Puck obviously meant well, and it was hard not to give in a little when he looked like that. "Look, you know I want to help. I care about him. It's just...really not my thing, okay? I like...sports, and pizza, and...cats and crossword puzzles. Not cruises."

"They have pizza on cruises, too," he protested. "And I bet they have satellite. You can sit in the bar all night and watch whatever you want. Nobody's going to make you have a good time."

Dave shook his head. "I know. It just seems like such a waste of time and money."

Puck sighed and stood up. "I wasn't going to do this, but... okay, you leave me no choice. That GRE thing you wanted me to take?" He waved his hand in the air, like he was brushing away a particularly pesky insect. "Fine. I'll take it. You go on this cruise with us, and I'll apply to whatever graduate programs you tell me to."

"You know I'm going to hold you to that." Puck did seem like he was serious. It wasn't even so much the test - he did very much want Puck to take it, but he thought he might be able to make that happen anyway. But if this was important enough to Puck that he'd offer... it was hard to say no to that.

Puck moved to stand behind Dave and wrapped his arms around him, resting his head on Dave's back. "Whatever. That test is a waste of time and money, too. Because you know I'm going to fuck up the reading, so don't get your hopes up."

"That's fine. You just need to show up and try...we'll see later who was right about the results."

"So... you'll do it?" Puck's lips paused on Dave's neck for just a moment. "Can I call him and say he can book the tickets?"

Dave sighed. "Yeah. Okay."

"Awesome." But Puck didn't move from where he was; his lips just grazed along his skin to another location. "You done with that sauce?"

"I could be," Dave allowed. He sighed again, this time for a different reason, and tilted his head so Puck could have better access.

"Because there might be some other ways I can show up and try, here," he murmured, his hand sneaking up under Dave's shirt. "Unless you're hungry and want to eat first."

"Yeah...I mean, no, not hungry." Dave moved his arm out of the way, and relaxed, giving in to Puck and his lips and hands. There was no reason not to - it kept surprising him, but he really couldn't come up with anything, so he turned around and leaned against the counter, pulling Puck along with him. "So let's see what happens when you try."