'Cause on the street or under the covers
We're stuck like two pieces of velcro
At the bar, in the back of my car
It don't matter what I do, no
I can't keep my hands off you
Kurt looked at himself in the mirror one last time before finally deciding that he was looking good enough. That year, for his Senior Prom, he had opted for a dark blue silky tuxedo and a white shirt, an outfit that made his skin look paler and his eyes look brighter.
Glancing at the clock, he saw that Noah was already late. Rolling his eyes, he looked in the mirror one last time and before going downstairs.
Finn had already left to go pick Rachel up and Burt and Carole were curled up on the couch in the living room watching TV.
He sat down next to his father and sighed heavily.
"I'm sure he'll be here any minute now," Carole reassured him.
Kurt shrugged. "I know. I just hope he didn't forget the corsage."
"Did you remind him?" Burt asked, glancing away from the TV for a moment to look at his son. "I swear, that boy would forget him head if it wasn't attacked to his neck."
"I told him which color my suit was, where to go to buy the corsage..." Kurt trailed off when the doorbell rang. "Finally."
Kurt got up from the couch and went to open the door. Puck was wearing once again the white jacket from last year's prom over black shirt and pants. He smiled at Kurt and held out a plastic box where there was a white wilting corsage.
"Sorry, I'm late. You look hot, babe."
Kurt smiled and picked up the corsage letting his boyfriend walk inside. "At least you remembered the color."
"I had completely forgotten all about it. I was out the door when Ma yelled at me that I was supposed to bring you this. That's why I'm late. I had to find a florist that still had one." Puck kissed him before Kurt could start getting angry. He pulled back when he heard someone clearing their throat.
"Hey, Mr. H. Carole," Puck greeted politely the two parents. He took the plastic box from Kurt's hands and put the corsage on Kurt's jacket. He grinned at his boyfriend and said, "Perfect."
Kurt raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. "We better get going."
"Wait!" Carole handed to Kurt the box with Puck's corsage, a blue rose, and Burt took pictures while Kurt put the flower on his boyfriend's jacket.
"Another one," said, Burt. "C'mon Puckerman, kiss him."
Kurt blushed but Puck smiled at Burt before pulling Kurt into a soft kiss. When he pulled back, he threw the empty box of his boyfriend's corsage at Carole, so he could take Kurt's hand.
"Be back by midnight!" Burt called after them but his voice was drawn out by the closing door.
They hurried down the driveway and before Kurt could open the passenger door of his boyfriend's pick-up, Puck did it for him, pulling the handle forcefully before it actually swung open almost hitting Kurt in the face.
"I cleaned up a bit," Puck told him, after they had climbed up in the pick-up.
Kurt scrunched up his nose in displeasure when he noticed that "I cleaned up a bit," actually meant that all the cars magazines, fast food's papers and empty cans had been swept onto the floor.
"Yeah, I can see that."
Puck smiled at him, that lopsided grin that was his trade-mark, before finally putting the car in gear.
The drive to the school wasn't very long and when they reached the McKinley High School, most of the students were still getting there.
This time, Puck didn't open the car for Kurt because when opening from the inside, it didn't stick and that was the only reason why he'd open a door for Kurt because, "Dude! You're not a girl!"
Once they were inside the gym, Kurt rolled his eyes at the tacky decor. "Rachel should be banned from choosing decorations."
"It's not that bad," Puck commented, looking at the stars hanging from everywhere and the building made of cardboard that should have looked like New York City's skyscrapers.
"The fact that you're saying that it's not bad, it's just another sign of how bad this actually looks," Kurt commented.
Puck laughed and taking Kurt's hand, led him towards the buffet. Kurt thought that they were going to pick up drinks, but instead, his boyfriend took a flask out of the pocket of his jacket.
Kurt's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
"Spiking the punch, duh?" Puck used the tone one would use while talking to a toddler and Kurt narrowed his eyes and left Puck there going in search of their friends.
"Hey Kurt!" Mercedes greeted him. "Where's your boy?"
Kurt sat down next to his best friend and sighed dramatically. "Spiking the punch."
Mercedes laughed. "Artie and Finn did it too."
"I have to keep him away from it then."
"'Sup, Mercedes?" Puck greeted, sinking down on the chair next to Kurt's and putting down on the table two plastic glasses.
"You're not drinking that," Kurt said, pointing towards their drinks.
Puck frowned. "Why not?"
Instead of answering, Kurt leaned in closer and looking seductively at his boyfriend, asked, "Can I get a dance?"
Puck heard Mercedes laughing but ignored her focusing solely on Kurt. "Sure." He grabbed Kurt's hand and led him to the dance floor where one of those cheesy songs typical of school dances was being played.
Kurt slid his arms around Puck's neck and tried to subtly get Puck to move in time with the music. Soon enough, Kurt felt Noah's hands sliding from his waist down to his ass. He rolled his eyes fondly and didn't even try to make Puck keep his hands above the waist.
"Hey, I'm not doing everything wrong, am I?"
Kurt could have found those words kind of sweet if it wasn't for the hands currently squeezing his ass. Kurt sighed and studied his boyfriend for a moment before shrugging at the hopeful look on his face. "Not everything."
Puck smiled softly at him before bending down to kiss him. It was still just a chaste kiss because he knew that Kurt didn't enjoy making out in front of the whole school, but Puck tried to let Kurt know how nervous he was and how much he cared.
When he pulled back, he said, "After they announce Prom King and Queen, can we go make out in the car?"
Kurt really had to stop himself from smacking Puck upside the head.
"Because I put on the tux and these shoes are so tight that I think I'm going to have blisters by the time I get them off and..."
"Noah" Kurt said sweetly.
"Yeah, babe?"
"Shut up and keep dancing."
Two hours later, while the students started leaving the place and probably heading towards motel rooms, Kurt found himself sitting on Noah's lap, the steering wheel digging in his back and his boyfriend's hands squeezing his ass. Their mouths were locked and their tongues brushing against each other's.
When Kurt used to think about Senior Prom, he used to picture holding hands, slow dances, soft kisses, matching tuxedos, receiving a bouquet of flowers and riding in a limousine, maybe even being elected Prom King.
Instead, he found himself with a boyfriend who thought that a mohawk made him a badass, with a corsage that looked and smelled like something dead and the stink of empty cans of beer in the air.
He pulled away from the kiss and looked at his boyfriend trying to decide if he should smack him upside the head for being an asshole, when Puck sighed heavily and pulled back.
"This was probably the worst prom ever. I forgot the stupid flowers and stepped on your feet while we were dancing. But being with you makes me nervous, because damn, what the hell is someone like you doing with someone like me? And then I forget to think before doing or saying something and I am so sorry. I ruined your last prom, Kurt."
Puck looked at Kurt with apologetic eyes and the hands resting on his ass slid up to rest on his hips as if Puck was afraid that at any moment, Kurt would just get out of the truck and leave.
But what Kurt did, was sliding his fingers through the short hair of Puck's mohawk and smiled down at him. "It was perfect," he quietly said.
Puck smiled and let his hands slid back down to Kurt's ass before kissing his boyfriend again.
A/N: this was just a little silly story based on this comment: He'll turn up at your door, with a battered and wilting corsage that was the last one in the florists.
He may or may not make chitchat with your parents, but most likely he'll shuffle awkwardly on the front porch.
He'll think that he's a gentleman because he swept all the crap from the passenger seat onto the floor. He might even open the door of his truck for you, but mostly because the door sticks.
He'll have a hip flask of vodka, and just look for a chance to pour it into the punch bowl.
You might get a dance from him, but only if you can cope with his wandering hands. Making out is guaranteed, because he put on the damn tux for you, didn't he? He deserves some payback.
And just when you're ready to smack him hard upside the head for being an asshole, he'll say or do something so goshdarn romantic you just squee.
THAT's how badasses do prom!