How the hell was this happening to me? I mean, I'm not a self absorbed person or anything, but this kind of stuff just doesn't happen to somebody like me! I'm Blaine Anderson. I haven't done an illegal thing in my life, or at least something that would land me in jail for a night.

This is honestly blowing my mind right now. I never thought I would be handcuffed and forced into a cop car in my life, let alone today. I never thought I would be walking through a sea of people, on my way to my jail cell, but I did. And I never thought I would see those iron bars close shut, right in front of my face.

My stomach drops. I get that feeling where I swear I'm going to be sick. I'm standing in a jail cell. My parents are going to find out. I'm going to get so grounded, it won't even be funny.

I'm going to kill my friends.

The fact that I might not be alone registers in my head. I know I need to check, but I can't bring myself to. This was something I was dreading the whole cop ride over. A prison cell full of angry old homophobic men, all looking for an outlet for their anger.

I hear movement behind me, and I tense.

I quickly give the cell a sweep, finding only one guy in the corner, with his legs up on the bench and his back resting against the wall. He's half in the shadows, and I really can't even tell how old he is. I'm pretty sure he has a Mohawk, and that makes me gulp.

I try to view this as a positive, as this means there's less men to intimidate me, but I can't quite find that relief. It there's two of us, then he's probably going to want to talk, seeing as that's just how the law of averages and crowds go. And I really don't want to talk right now, at least not to a total stranger who probably is in here for like, strangling somebody. Or something to do with drugs.

Oh God, I'm in a locked jail cell with a druggie!

What if he's homophobic? He could beat the shit out of me.

Calm the hell down, Blaine! I tell myself, trying to keep my breathing under control. He doesn't need to know you're gay; you don't need to talk to this dude at all. Just stay calm, your parents will come and get you. No need to talk.

"Dude, why are you just standing there? Those bars ain't going to open by themselves."

I freeze. He's talking. What the hell, if I'm in jail, why couldn't I have been thrown into a cell with nobody in it? Or, better yet, why not a nice talkative girl my age? We could be laughing and having the time of our lives, but no. I get stuck with shady looking mohawk guy who calls me "dude."

Relax Blaine.

"I know that," I snap out, turning around, but not looking at mohawk guy. I go and sit the farthest away from him as possible, and he laughs.

"This your first time in jail?"

Why is he talking to me, why is he talking to me, why is he talking to me…

So do I say yes, and show just how vulnerable I am, or do I lie, and make me sound like a badass?

"No. Third time this month."

Hey, I'm proud of myself. I'm pretty sure I even sounded relatively convincing. This guy is probably thinking 'Dude, that dude is the shit, I better give him space.' A smile creeps on my face, and I mentally pat myself on the back.

My smile doesn't last long. His laughter wipes it off my face.

"You are a terrible liar; you have to know that, right? Not only did you not sound it, your face walking in here pretty much said it all."

"Whatever."

"Whatever? Aren't you going to ask me if it's my first time?"

No, I do not want to know that, it will just freak me out more. Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask.

"I'm sure it's not."

…

Wow Blaine, you don't ask, and instead, you insult the big muscle-y scary guy in the corner. Why are so stupid?

To my surprise (more relief) he just laughs at this.

"You are right, it's not. But I'm pretty sure this is the most serious."

Don't ask what he did, don't ask what he did, don't ask what he did.

"Why, what did you do?"

I am so going to get one of those self help books when I get out of here. Controlling Your Mouth for Dummies.

"I tried to steal an ATM. Yeah, I know, pretty stupid."

"You – wait, what?"

That definitely wasn't the answer I was expecting. First off, who would be so stupid? Second off, and it was probably just me assuming the worst, I was expecting something like murder.

And there's another self help book I need.

"I know, really stupid huh? Well I was drunk, and I'm generally stupid anyway, so it just made sense in my brain."

"You're not drunk anymore?"

"Well, jail kind of took it out of me. And the possibility of Juvie."

"Juvie? How old are you?"

"17."

Again, another answer I didn't expect. In my defense, those shadows are doing a good job hiding him.

"17! I thought you were like in your twenties or thirties."

He stands up then, and I immediately sink into the wall. Seriously, what's wrong with me?

To my relief, however, he just moves out of the dark and till he's leaning up against the bars on the opposite side of the jail cell.

And this is when I get my first good look at him.

Damn.

So, am I dumb enough to ask him if he's gay? Or is that just going to slip out. Because he's definitely not to hard on the eyes…

He smiles at my face though, shifting his body against the bars, sliding down until he's sitting on the floor.

Somewhere in my head I process his smile, and the significance it holds. Shit, I'm staring!

I quickly move my eyes away, looking at anything but him.

"Do you still think I look in my thirties?"

His voice is one of amusement, and my cheeks burn red.

"N-no." I stammer, again trying to avoid his piercing gaze. Seriously, it was like he didn't have to blink. And who looks at somebody else for so long?

"Good. Calling me thirty, jeez, do you want to get your skinny little ass beat?"

I cringe, and I close my eyes. And we were having such a nice conversation. My hands fold together and started to fidget with each other, and I gulp down. I bring my legs up and assume the fetal position.

"Sorry," I whisper back. "I… didn't mean to offend you."

Damn. I'm pathetic.

"What the fuck? You know I was just kidding?"

I open my eyes and look over at him, and he's giving me this look of utter confusion.

"Afraid of confrontation, aren't you? Is that why you didn't want to talk to me earlier? You thought I was some jackass who wanted to fight you."

I don't say anything except stare down at the ground.

Or do you want to get your skinny little ass beat?

I cringe again, willing to get that out of my head. I'm sure he didn't really mean it in a harm full way or anything, but still, those words… Ugh.

"Fine, whatever dude. Sorry I made you freak out."

I can hear him stand up, and walk back to the corner he was sitting in before. I thought he would stay there, but I can hear him return to his spot against the bars.

Why the hell did he walk over their then?

And then the sound of a guitar fills the cell, and my eyes fling to him. Sure enough, there he is, with a guitar in his arms and this smirk on his face as he plays the opening chords of a song everyone knows very well.

Where it began
I can't begin to know when
But then I know it's growing strong

And holy shit he's singing. This guy just doesn't seem to run out of surprises. He has a great voice, something totally unexpected, and he sounds totally comfortable behind his guitar. So I become just a bit less intimidated by him, I mean, seriously, he's a singer. How bad could he be?

Oh, wasn't the spring, whooo
And spring became the summer
Who'd believe you'd come along

And his singing is so good, it actually makes me smile. He looks up at me then, and his smirk grows when he sees I'm not freaking out anymore. He gives me a wink, and yeah, I wish I was that guitar.

Hands, touching hands, reaching out
Touching me, touching you

I join him for the chorus. There's really no way I wouldn't.

Oh, sweet Caroline
Good times never seem so good
I've been inclined to believe it never would

He finishes the song with another few strums, and then he looks up at me questionably, probably wondering what my reaction is.

"You sing."

He rolls his eyes, and I don't blame him. I kind of stated the obvious.

"And you do too. We harmonize well."

"How in the world did you get that guitar?"

He looks down at his guitar and smiles.

"This isn't my first run in with the law. Me and the poe-poe's are tight. They slipped this in for me."

"Oh my God, you said 'poe-poe's'…"

"Yeah, I'm a badass like that…" He grins at me, and I'm feeling more and more comfortable by the second.

"So was it the mohawk?

"What?" I question back, slightly startled by the odd comment.

"Was it the mohawk that got you so intimidated?"

I stare at him for a split second, and then I burst out laughing. He laughs with me, but not nearly as I hard as I do. Was it the mohawk? Oh my God, I can't believe he just asked that.

"No," I get out through me laughing. "It probably was the shadows, and the fact that I couldn't really see you."

"No, it was the mohawk."

I laugh again, and I really don't know what's wrong with me tonight. It's probably just all the stress that jail brings, and the fact that I have some alcohol in my system, but my mouth filter really is gone.

"You're cute," I laugh out, not even realizing what I was saying.

That only lasted for about five seconds though, until what came out of my mouth made it to my brain.

"Ha! I knew you were gay!"

I freeze. I just stare at him with that blank stare.

"No I'm not."

Man, even I'm ashamed of my lying skills.

No matter how comfortable I may be around this guy, and no matter how cool he may appear, I can't let him know I'm gay. There are still only two of us, and this is a locked jail cell.

There's nowhere to run.

"Oh, please. I already knew before that last comment anyway. I've only seen that look in somebody else's eyes once before."

"Wh-what?"

"I have this friend. He's gay. I've seen that look only in his eyes before. Usually it was when he was looking at me, but that was a long time ago."

"You have a gay friend?" I whisper, not being able to process this.

"Yeah, not that good really, but we have each other's backs. Hey, I'm cool with the gays."

"You're… cool with the gays..." I repeat back.

He gives me a strict nod and a smile, and then goes back to strumming his guitar.

And with that, my fear of him has completely disappeared. He has seemed to worm his way into my trust circle within fifteen minutes, and I can't help but to laugh at this.

"What?" He asks quietly, over the melody he was playing. "Thought I would beat you up? Ooops, I said beat up, time for you to have a freak out."

I grin at his teasing, and don't say anything at his dig.

"It's just…this night is kind of crazy."

"That's right; we still have to find out why Mr. Curls is in the slammer…so?"

"Mr. Curls, no no, that just won't do. I'm Blaine Anderson."

"Well Blaine," he smiles, doing a quick strum of like 10 notes in about 2 seconds, "I'm Puck."

"No last name?"

"Maybe for another time," he grins again, giving me another one of those winks. Could he be gay? No, he can't possibly.

"I'm just going to pull you out of your thoughts and ask, again, why you in the slammer?"

"Oh, because my friends are idiots."

"Do tell."

"They had a drinking party and they invited me. And then they didn't tell me the cops were at the door, and they rushed out."

"Interesting. Hmm, can't say I've ever been caught drinking at a party before, but-"

"Are you gay?" I spit out quickly, cutting off his sentence.

And this time I don't beat myself up for letting this thought slip out of my mouth. I wanted to know the answer too bad.

He looks at me like I'm crazy, and then he starts chuckling softly.

"No Blaine, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not."

Well that's too bad. I'm not a slutty person or anything, but now that I know how nice and charming this Puck kid is, a jail cell would be a pretty freaky place to get some shit on.

"Oh, OK."

"You can try to wipe some of that disappointment from your face."

"Sorry, you're just really hot."

"Wow, for being like super scared of me fifteen minutes ago to calling me hot? You got balls, Blaine."

"Not really. I know you're actually about as harmful as a teddy bear, so I'll call you what I want."

"Wha-No-Blah-You!" He tries to find the words to say, and I laugh at his confusion.

"You can't just – I'm intimidating!"

And now I'm laughing even more, and oh my God, his face.

"I could still beat your ass up!"

"You can Puck, but you won't. You said too much, you told me who you actually are."

"I'm a badass!"

"You're a cutie."

And now I can tell he's really angry, as he starts pacing the floor. He sends me these side evil eye stares, and they help me to calm down. Once I'm finally done laughing, maybe I feel slightly bad.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. I was only kidding."

"Fuck you."

Oh, I smile. He can't quite get himself to mean it, and this makes me smile.

"Won't you please?"

And it's his turn to laugh, and he shakes his head.

He comes and sits down beside me, and I give him a wide smile.

"You know…" he begins slowly, eyes on the ground. "I've always thought of experimenting."

My heart skips a beat, and I sit a little straighter.

"Umm, what?"

"Well I'm kind of a sex shark, and it's kind of surprising that I haven't experimented sooner. Hummel doesn't quite do it for me, and there are not exactly a lot of people to choose from. So…"

And then he's leaning down and kissing me. And holy shit, I'm kissing the hottest guy I've seen in a long time. It takes me seconds to kiss back, and he groans as I push my lips upwards against his.

He growls lowly, bringing his arm around me until he's pulling me in closer. My hand goes up to his Mohawk, and I'm pushing him down into my mouth.

"Puck," I moan out, and I can feel him smile against my lips. Pretty soon he's slowing though, and I try my hardest to keep our lips connecting.

It only lasts so long.

"Nope," he sighs, as he rests his head back against the wall. He keeps his arm around me though, and I wonder what that's all about. "You got a slight twitch from Puckzilla, but that's not enough for me to go psycho on your ass. Sorry, not crossing that line."

"Puckzilla?" I ask, and I don't even try to hide my disappointment.

"My dick."

I lick my lips, making sure he's fully looking at me.

He glares, and then laughs.

"OK, so another good twitch, but still, no, I'm not going there."

"Well then, how about-" but my sentence get's cut off. Both of our faces turn to the door as we watch the sheriff stroll in, jingling his keys.

"OK Warbler, your parents are here."

He unlocks the door, and opens it wide for me. I turn back to Puck and then frown.

Yes, a lot happened today that I didn't suspect.

I didn't expect that I would be going to an underage drinking party, and that the cops would catch me.

I didn't expect that I would then be carted off in a cop car, and thrown in jail for the night.

I didn't think I would then meet this guy named Puck, who happened to be extremely hot, and then get to spend a few minutes making out with him.

But those were nothing compared to what I realized next.

No, I never, ever, ever, thought that I, Blaine Anderson, would want to stay in a jail cell over night. Screw my wealthy parents, why couldn't they be poor and unable to pay bail.

Maybe I should assault the sheriff.

A/N – My first one shot! If you can, please leave a review with what you thought, and thanks for reading :)