Kurt was vaguely aware of his phone vibrating in his pocket, but he didn't really care to check who was texting him right now. Later, he would see that it was another "courage" text from Blaine. The texts were sweet, but at that moment, he was a little late for courage. In fact, courage was what had gotten him into this mess.
He ignored the vibration and concentrated on getting out of the building and into his car, running as quickly as he could, his fingers pressed to his lips, and tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. He had almost made it to the door of the school without meeting any fellow students, when he turned a corner and collided forcefully with Noah Puckerman.
"Jesus Christ, can you watch where you're fucking going?" Puck demanded, as he got to his feet. His expression softened as he saw that it was Kurt, and he extended a hand. "Oh, Hummel. It's you. What are you doing racing around like some- woah, hey. What's wrong?" Kurt tried in vain to wipe the tears from his face, but they continued to fall. "I, nothing," he managed through violent sobs. "I just need to get home." He made for the exit, but Puck grabbed him by the wrist. "You think I'm gonna let you drive in that condition?" Puck demanded. "Jesus, Hummel, I may be an asshole but I'm not about to let you kill yourself. I'll drive you." He whipped the keys out of Kurt's hand and headed out into the parking lot, leaving Kurt to follow. "Puckerman!" Kurt called, rushing after him. "I seriously don't need this right now, give me back my keys." What he had intended to sound firm and commanding had come out more desperate, pleading. His shoulders still shook with sobs, and the tracks of the tears which covered his face were amplified by the sunlight.
"Damn, you're really not playing around here. What is it, what happened?" "It's, I, Karofsky, he-" "Karofsky did this to you? I fucking warned him never to go near you again, that prick's seriously gonna get it now," Puck fumed. "What happened? He say something? Did he hurt you?" Kurt sniffled loudly. "He, well, he shoved me, and I confronted him, and he kissed me." Kurt broke into a fresh wave of sobs. "I tried to push him away, but he was too strong, I couldn't-" "He kissed you? Really, I, wow. That's not what I was expecting at all!" Puck's expression hardened again. "But he won't fucking get away with this, I'll go kick his ass right now." Kurt grabbed Puck's arm as he began to move away. "Please, Noah," he almost wailed. "Please just take me home. I just want to go home." Puck hesitated, before walking around to the driver's side with a loud sigh.
By the time they pulled up outside the Hummel residence, Kurt's crying had calmed to a quiet sniffling. They sat there in silence a moment longer, as Kurt tried to steady his breath. "Why are you being so nice to me?" He eventually breathed, so quietly that Puck could easily have missed it. He didn't. "Damn, Hummel, give me a little credit," Puck sighed, running his right hand through his mohawk. "I could hardly let you drive home like that, I'd be surprised if you could even see straight." There was another moment of silence, perforated only by Kurt's occasional sniffles. "Besides," Puck began, "I went through a lot last year. I figured, hey. We all have shit in our lives. You don't need jerks like me adding to it." Kurt smiled weakly at Puck, and choked out a small "thank you," before stepping out of the car and towards his front door. "Any time," Puck whispered, but Kurt had already disappeared.
As Kurt lay in bed that night, going over and over the day's events in his mind, he realised that Noah had been acting differently this year. He hadn't slushied him once, and Kurt could barely remember the last time he saw the interior of a dumpster. In fact, he had been perfectly civil towards him. Friendly, even. "I guess losing your first child would soften you up somewhat," Kurt thought to himself.
He stretched a hand over to his bedside table, intending to text Puck another thank you. As his fingers brushed the screen of his phone, they were met with a low beep and a faint vibration. "Excellent timing, Puckerman," he muttered to himself, opening the message. It was from Blaine, not Puck. Of course it wasn't from Puck, why would he assume that? Actually, Kurt doubted Puck even had his number.
How are you? the text read. Kurt smiled. He barely knew Blaine at all, and yet here he was, as though he could sense something was wrong, as though they'd already developed that kind of connection. I've been better. How are you? Kurt sent had barely set the phone down when it beeped again. What's wrong? Do you want to talk about it? Kurt's eyes quickly began to glisten again, though it wasn't like the tears had been long gone. These were different tears though, they weren't borne of pain. It touched him so deeply that someone he had just met could be genuinely concerned about his wellbeing. Kurt felt such affection for Blaine at that moment, that thoughts of Karofsky were temporarily pushed from his mind.
No, I'm actually feeling quite a bit better now. :) Kurt shut off his phone, and rolled onto his side, a faint smile etched onto his tear-stained face. He eventually drifted off to sleep, now that his primary thought processes concerned soft dark curls and brilliant hazel eyes, rather than stolen kisses and swollen lips. No, those eyes had pretty much taken over, so that there wasn't much room for anything else in Kurt's mind. Not Dave Karofsky, not fear of what school would be like tomorrow, not the fact that his first kiss was an act of violence.
Not even Noah Puckerman.
Kurt overslept. His face was still red, and his eyes were puffy. He was a mess, and he had no time to do anything more about it than splash some cold water on his face. He rushed out the door feeling even shittier than he had last night. He stopped still in his tracks. Puck was standing by his car."'Sup?" Puck nodded to him."Good morning," Kurt offered, hesitantly. "What are you doing here?" "I forgot to give you back your keys yesterday." Puck tossed them toward Kurt, who just about caught them. "And I left my car at school yesterday, so I was kinda hoping you could give me a ride." "Oh, of course!" Kurt unlocked the car and got inside, while Puck did the same. They rode in silence for a few minutes, until Kurt finally spoke. "I really appreciate you driving me home yesterday, thank you." "Don't mention it." Puck smiled. "No, really. I was overemotional. There's no way I could have driven. Thank you." "Yeah well, just wait until I see Karofsky. Then you'll really be thanking me. I can't believe that jerk. It's disgusting." "Disgusting why?" Kurt demanded. "Because he's gay? Because he kissed me?" "Jesus, Hummel. Calm down. It's disgusting that he forced you into it, not that he wanted to kiss you. Have I ever had a problem with you being gay?" "Well you did used to shove me in a dumpster a few times a week, so yes, it seems that you did," Kurt snapped. "That wasn't because you were gay, it was because I thought you were a loser," Puck stated simply."Oh, that's much better, thank you. Tell me, Noah, if I'm such a loser why did you even bother helping me yesterday?" "I said I thought you were a loser. I was an idiot back then, I picked on everyone. Now, I actually think you're pretty cool." Kurt was silent for a moment. "Oh. I'm sorry. I'm just used to getting picked on for my sexuality, you know? I'm kind of constantly on guard."
They stayed mostly silent for the remainder of the journey. "Thank you," Kurt smiled as they reached the school. "For saying you thought I was... pretty cool. You're not half bad yourself. Certainly not as bad as you'd have people think you are." Puck just smiled. "Later, Hummel," and they both went their separate ways.
Yes, Kurt thought. Noah Puckerman really wasn't that bad at all.
