I don't know about anyone else, but nighttime had always felt free, you know? Even when the cold and damp got in my bones and it had been hours and hours since the sun set, I'd breathe deeply without other people there to fuck it up. And I'd wander. It beat laying at home, trying to sleep.
The same people were out and about at the same time of night, every night, and I knew them all by sight and sound. Hell, some I even knew primarily because of the smell. There was Lima's only homeless dude, Patches, who lived outside the library. There was Delilah, the lonely whore who worked the Seven-Eleven parking lots near my house. There were Officers Cooper and Zimenski, who knew me by name and always said hello, as if that simple gesture would keep me on the straight and narrow while I was out breaking curfew. At least they never busted me. And if I stayed out really late, I would usually run across Pete, the newspaper delivery man rolling down the street in his pickup, stuffing rolled up newspapers into the cubby under everyone's mailbox.
It was predictable and, though I had to sleep in class, my nightly walks gave me time to think, which I had to admit, I'd been doing a lot more of lately. Mostly I thought about Quinn and Beth. Quinn was no longer mine, which fucking hurt, but I understood. Beth wasn't mine either, since I'd signed her away for adoption. I owned nothing but my own skin and even then, sometimes it felt like it belonged to anyone and everyone, but not me.
People always looked at me, even when I wasn't looking for and basking in the attention. Ever since I was really young, it was all, "Oh, isn't he a handsome boy?" Or, "Would you look at those adorable curls?" No one knows the main reason for the short Mohawk was to let people know they could look, but they certainly couldn't touch anymore, if they wanted to keep all their fingers. It screamed badass, louder than anything about me.
I don't think I was the first one Sandy Ryerson tried to touch ("Knock it off, dude! I swear, I will punch you right in the cock...") and I know I wasn't the last, but even just the thought that someone like him found me attractive made me take a set of clippers to my hair the next day. The Puckster may be easy, but he's got some standards.
Wandering around town that summer between Beth and the rest of my life, I mostly thought about my father, who I hadn't seen in almost eight years. Eli God-Damn Puckerman, as my mom liked to refer to him, escaped Lima on Mom's dime, stealing most of her savings when he left. Mom took back her old name, Goldman, but she didn't change mine or Sarah's. I knew she was trying to do what was best for us, but carrying his name around felt heavy and like I couldn't tell anyone where I'd come from, because I didn't really feel it anymore. So, I stuck with identifying just as a Jew, because aside from my Mom and my Nana Goldman, I had no one else to claim me as their own. At least not for keeps.
One night, about a week before the fourth of July, the night air felt different. Finn and I were finally done working at Sheets and Things, and we'd gone out to Burger King to celebrate. It felt nice, talking to him again, but it stirred up so much shit that I ended up wandering instead of sleeping after we went our separate ways. As I walked past the park between the library and that fruity yoga joint, I knew something was out of place.
It wasn't Patches. He was safe and sound asleep in the library breezeway, tucked away in the relative comfort of his cardboard fortress
No, it was something altogether more intriguing.
"Hummel?" I asked myself quietly, watching the figure under the moonlight. Looking fucking depressed, he sat on the merry-go-round in the playground, every once in awhile pushing off with his foot to keep the contraption rotating slowly around. That merry-go-round had always creaked, but something about the soft, slow sound it made that night was particularly heartbreaking.
I was just going to watch him for awhile and then move on, because whatever was getting him down was none of my business, but then he saw me. I heard the sharp intake of breath and the scratching sound of Kurt dragging his foot through the woodchips and dirt at his feet to stop his motion and I knew I was scaring the crap out of him.
Carefully, I put up my hands and walked onto the moonlit playground, saying softly, "Chill, Hummel. It's just me."
"Puck?" he replied, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you doing here? In the middle of the night?"
I shrugged and moved closer so I could sit down on the opposite side of the merry-go-round, the metal still a little warm from the hot summer sun, "Wandering. You?"
Kurt watched as I started the contraption back up again, turning it slowly. When I came around to pass him, Kurt replied, "The same, I guess."
"Never seen you out here before," I told him, feeling his weight dip down the other side of the merry-go-round and how that made it harder to keep spinning the thing in circles.
"I-" he said, his voice hitching like he was about to start crying. Fuck. I hated it when people cried, unless I caused it. And even then...
Needing to stop this from turning into a mushy emo fest, I told him, "Hold on!" and got off the merry-go-round, using both feet to get the thing going as quick as I could before jumping back on.
"No!" he cried, in that only half-protesting way. "Puck, don't! Stop!" It was the laugh that gave him away as a liar. I laughed a little with him and it was nice, feeling something good.
After a minute or two of both of us pushing off the ground to make the ride spin faster and faster, Kurt shrieked, "Stop, Puck, stop! Seriously. I'm gonna puke!"
Chuckling at the thought of composed little Kurt Hummel spewing chunks, I let the ride slow down on its own, jumping off before it was done. "See ya around, Kurt," I said, making my escape into the darkness.
For three whole days, I wondered if I had just imagined him saying goodbye.
I really didn't expect to see Hummel again. Besides the regulars, most of the people I saw out late at night were there because of a fluke - going to get medicine for a crying baby, stumbling home after passing out at a party, looking for their escaped dog, or in one case, their goat. I figured Kurt was the same. One and done.
I was wrong. The week after the playground, I ran into him in the Pick 'n' Save parking lot. He was crossing from the other direction and we just sort of met in the middle, under one of the lights.
"Hey," I said gruffly, wondering what the hell he was doing out this late again, since he was one of the least rebellious people I'd ever met. Well, except fashion-wise, but I figured that was part of the whole liking-dudes thing.
"Hey," he replied in kind. He sort of looked at me for a minute before shaking his head and brushing past me to keep going.
I knew he was heading away from his house - everyone knew where that dude lived because of all the pranks we used to pull on him - so I asked, "Wandering again?" falling in step beside him as we walked. The day had been full of thunderstorms, so the pavement was shiny and everything smelled like ozone, but the sky was clear and bright this late after they cleared away.
Kurt shrugged, "I guess."
A lame-ass little firework went off a few blocks away, even though the fourth was still two days from then, and it made both of us jump a little. Smiling at the way he quickly composed himself, like he always did after getting shoved or tossed in the dumpster or whatever, I asked, "Wanna see something cool?"
"No, thank you," he replied, continuing on his way. I don't know what made me do it, but I fell in step with the guy. I, the Puckasaurus, followed the gay kid out of the parking lot and down the street.
It took him longer than I figured it would, but eventually Kurt stopped giving me suspicious looks and just asked, "What are you doing?"
I replied to him with a shrug, but he didn't seem to think that was enough of an answer because he kept giving me that expectant expression. "Fine," I said eventually, "I was curious about where you were gonna end up and whether anyone would find you out here, and this was the more badass and less creepy-stalker way to find out."
"Why would you care?"
"Bored," I said, with another shrug. "Usually it isn't this dead out here, but I think everyone's savin' it for the fourth."
Kurt gave me a questioning look, and something about the way the lamp light hit his face showed off the way he pursed his lips. It just wasn't a guy's expression. And Kurt wondered why no one was surprised when he came out. Dude just sort of screamed androgynous or whatever. At least he knew how to keep his mouth shut and keep the silence for more than a minute or two, unlike most kids at our school.
After walking in that silence for almost ten minutes, we came to the gates of one of Lima's three cemeteries. It looked like he was going to walk right in, squeezing through a gap in the loosely-chained gate. Oh, hell no! I had to stop this! Grabbing Kurt's arm, I tugged it and hissed, "What are you doing?"
Frowning and jerking his arm out of my grasp, Kurt shot back, "What does it look like?"
"It looks," I replied, cringing when he went back to the opening and squeezed through by holding his breath and giving his hips a little wiggle, "like you're just asking for the zombie apocalypse, man! You can't go in there! Not at night!"
"It's just a cemetery, Puck," Kurt shrugged, smirking at me through the iron bars of the gate. Then, with a tiny laugh, he asked, "Are you questioning my badassness?"
As Kurt flounced away, disappearing into the shadows before popping up again in the moonlight a dozen yards away as he made his way across the open space, I breathed, "What the fuck?" No one was supposed to be more badass than yours truly, but the freaking gay kid was showing me up. Damn. Putting up with the shit he got at school must have given the dude balls of titanium - if he even had balls. That point was still up for debate.
Okay, there was no way he was gonna get this over on me. No way. Not as carefully as maybe I should have, I pushed and pushed and finally got myself through the opening in the bars. My nipple ring got a little caught at the end, but some deft maneuvering and hulk-like strength freed me. Careful of all the headstones and trying not to walk on anyone's grave (because Nana said that was bad luck), I hurried to where I last saw Kurt disappear.
Where the hell had he gone? A dude couldn't just vanish into thin air, right? I mean, I know I'm dumb, but I'm not Brittany. People can't just – "Boo!" a high voice said from behind me, pinching hands weighing down my shoulders and sending my heart up into my freaking throat.
"For fuck's sake, Hummel!" I cried, whipping around and raising my fist in a threat. "You don't fucking do that to a person!"
"Doesn't feel so funny from the other side," Kurt insisted, skipping away, "does it?"
"All that," I asked, following him down the rows, "to make a damn point?" Kurt didn't answer and like a damn beaten dog, I kept behind him until we came to an achingly familiar spot. Just pass it by, I told myself. He won't know any differently. Just keep moving!
My feet had other ideas, turning me down the row and toward the fifth grave in. I hadn't been here in a couple of years, but the rock I put on top of the headstone, a stupid little nothing rock I got from the lake, was still there.
Kneeling in the dew-wet grass, I touched the stone and whispered, "Hey, Adam. How ya doin', bud?"
He didn't answer.
After a minute or so, Kurt found me, asking softly, "Do you know this person?"
"Yeah," I nodded, wishing I could tell Kurt to just leave me alone, because I was about ten seconds from losing it. Instead, he sat down and slipped his warm hand into mine. Without judgment or apparent fear, the gay kid offered to hold my hand. Something must have been wrong with me, too, because I let him do it. And then I explained, "My little brother, Adam."
Kurt nodded and then pointed over somewhere, saying, "My mom."
We sat together silently and I tried to stay stone-faced and badass, but I couldn't help it with Adam's headstone staring me in the face. And Kurt wouldn't tell, anyway. Not when I threatened him with a beatdown after this. Plus, I was pretty sure most of the time he was a nice dude. Arrogant and bitchy, but nice under the surface.
When Kurt's voice broke the silence, he asked, "How old was your brother when he...?"
"Seven," I replied, remembering how short he always seemed compared to me and compared to Mom and Dad. He was way bigger than Sarah, though, who had been a baby and didn't even remember him. "I was ten."
"I'm sorry," Kurt replied, and he sounded sincere. Sometimes when people found out I'd lost my brother, they said those words, but you could tell they had no idea how to mean them. Kurt meant them.
"He got sick," I shrugged, remembering the hospital and the crappy toys they always had and how I couldn't bring Adam's stuffed dinosaur because the doctors said they couldn't get rid of all the germs. They were such stupid assholes. Those germs wouldn't have made a difference in the long run. He was done for since the beginning. "Adam got sick and he died, and then my dad left."
"I thought you told us in glee," Kurt mentioned, "that your dad left to become a rock star."
"The first time he left," I corrected, "that's what he did. He came back after a couple years of failure and my Mom had Sarah and everything was great. But then Adam died and the deadbeat wuss couldn't handle it, so he skipped town again. Haven't seen or heard from him since."
"That sucks," Kurt whispered, squeezing my hand tight for a brief moment. The gesture made me look over at him, his nose, forehead, and cheekbones bright in the moonlight, but his eyes hidden. "My mom had an accident," he confessed, head swiveling in the direction of her grave. "Drunk driver. She never even saw it coming. Dad and I were waiting for her to bring home dinner for so long..."
"Hummel?" I asked, getting him to look back at me. "How many other kids at our school d'you think have people buried here who died too soon? Like not grandparents or whatever."
"Not many," he replied, so matter-of-factly. "Just Finn, I think. His dad's over in that corner."
"He never even knew the guy," I scoffed. "His shouldn't count."
"Okay," Kurt agreed with a short chuckle. "Then it's just me and you."
With the rest of the town asleep and surrounded by the dead, it did really feel like we were the only two left alive. Me and the fairy. Crap. There weren't even any chicks up in this place!
Pulling my hand out of Kurt's, I stood up and helped him do the same. "I gotta go," I told him. "You gonna be okay here alone?"
"I'm a big boy, Puckerman," Kurt insisted, his voice getting back that hard edge that it usually held. "I'll be fine."
Shrugging, I walked away, trying not to let my heart beat too loudly at the fact that I was practically alone in the cemetery at night. That so wasn't badass.
I didn't see Kurt the rest of the summer. Maybe he figured out whatever was bothering him, or maybe he just avoided the places I normally hung out. Then again, my mom was dating some douche I hadn't met yet and forced me into being home with my sister while she was out. When she got home late, I couldn't leave until even later, or sometimes not at all. Maybe Kurt was always home again before I got out there. Whatever.
School started again and it was the same, except this time I was that loser glee jock who got Quinn Fabray, golden princess and head cheerleader, pregnant. I wasn't Puck the badass or Puck the bully or Puck the star. I was Puck the Loser, and it pissed me off. The new kid, Sam, was an alright kind of guy, even when he made moves on Quinn, who reminded me several times that I wasn't hers anymore.
Jail.
Nowhere to wander. No place safe to sleep during the day. Fear, worse than that freaking graveyard. Pain. Exhaustion.
Freedom.
A few days later, while I was enjoying my new found freedom, I ran into Kurt at the playground again. This time he was just sitting at the bottom of the metal slide, back against the surface so he could look up at the sky. He must not have had a very warm coat on, because even from across the playground, I could see him shivering.
"You alright, Hummel?" I asked, stepping up so I could hover over him.
Shooting daggers, he spat, "You should have never told me to go visit the Dalton Warblers!"
"Why? Did the Garglers do something to you? I'll kick their asses."
Expression softening, he sat up and shook his head. "All I got was some well-intentioned, but careless advice. I don't know what to do."
"About what?" I asked, crouching down in front of him. I have to admit, during the day, at school, I would have never asked that question. But here? When I was just him and me? It seemed weak not to.
"Maybe Blaine will come talk to him with me. We both know what he's going through..."
Seeing that Kurt was still shivering, I shrugged at his words and rubbed my hands up and down his sleeves to warm him up. "Puck?"
"Yeah?"
"What would you do if someone you hated, someone who made your life a living nightmare, kissed you?" Damn. The kid was serious!
The only person I knew who I hated that much was my dad, who I couldn't imagine kissing me, so I said, "I'd punch him in the face. Repeatedly."
Raising one eyebrow at me, Kurt sighed, "Of course you would. You're the guy who wouldn't even give feather boas half a chance."
"Feather boas are stupid," I insisted. "But I liked the jackets you picked out."
"Really?" he asked, his voice lower in sarcasm-laced disbelief as he wiped away a tear.
"Totally. I'd look hot in that shit," I nodded with a smile. Kurt laughed and then we sat for a minute or two while he breathed and I stood up to crack my neck. Finally I asked, "You gonna tell me who's got you this upset? I can't risk an out and out fight without going back to Juvie, but I wage an anonymous terror campaign with the best of them."
"Was it you who put the dead mouse in my locker?" he accused, standing up to face me almost evenly.
"Nah, dude," I told him. "That was Azimio. Now if I told him where to find a dead mouse in the cafeteria kitchens and maybe gave him the idea subsconsciously, that's a different story."
Even though he was smiling a little, Kurt said, "You're an ass, Puckerman. A complete pre-flint stone tools, idiotic, Neanderthal."
Deciding I'd talked enough for one night, and that I was freezing my ass off out here, I bowed proudly and walked away, Kurt's laughter following me into the night.
I didn't see Kurt around at night for quite a while, partly because he transferred to a boarding school two hours away, and partly because it got too cold to be out for more than twenty minutes at a time without risking frostbite. One time, Patches told me he migrated down to Alabama for the winter, so he wouldn't freeze to death. Even Delilah only took clients who made appointments over the phone when it was this cold out.
Kurt came home a month before regionals, brokenhearted and terrified. The other guys and I lived up to our promise to protect him like the Secret Service, so I saw a lot more of Hummel during the day. But I mostly saw him at night. Wandering.
"What would you do?" I asked him one night, finding him skipping rocks in the fountain next to City Hall. "If Karofsky found you out here all alone like this?"
"I don't know," Kurt replied, like he couldn't give two shits whether or not it happened. "But it's the only time I've been alone since getting back."
"Sure," I agreed, feeling this odd urge to try to draw him out some. "What I don't get is why Karofsky's picking on you so much to begin with. What's that guy's deal?"
"I can't tell you that," Kurt insisted, his shoulders slumping under the pressure. "If he finds out, he will kill me. And it won't be fists and slushies, it'll be a knife or a gun. Can you protect me from that?"
"He won't find out," I whispered, close enough to Kurt's ear to get a good whiff of him as I backed off again. Weird. He actually smelled kind of ... hot. "You have to tell someone."
"I told Blaine," he replied with a shiver and a sort of rueful chuckle. "It didn't do any good."
"I'm like a head taller and have about thirty pounds of muscle on your ex, Kurt. I can handle it." I couldn't quite grasp why I wanted to know the secret of Karofsky's beef with Kurt, by it was a good distraction from my own thoughts.
Kurt sighed and looked over at me, his shiny eyes just barely catching the light from the street lamp nearby. "Fine, you wanna know? Back in November I confronted Karofsky and he kissed me. Forcibly. He's gay." Suddenly getting angry, Kurt threw the rest of his rocks in the fountain and stood up, pacing away from me before turning and coming back.
In the meantime, I was still processing the Karofsky news. "Seriously? Huh."
"Everything about this crappy town made him too chicken to admit it," Kurt growled, "so he's taking all the stress out on me. He's fucking jealous. Of me!"
Not used to hearing Kurt swear, I chuckled and shrugged, "Of course he is. He'll never be hot like you, and he knows gay dudes are more into looks than chicks. At least chicks can be into smooth words or dudes who talk about their feelings. Though, I don't even think Karofsky has feelings, so he's kinda screwed."
Kurt gave me a confused expression for a moment before replying, "Of course he has feelings. Everyone does."
"I don't know about that," I smirked, moving a few steps to stand next to him, "but I get him being jealous of you. Damn. It's insane you and Blaine even broke up."
"Why?"
Now I'm a dude that usually lives by the philosophy, if it feels good, do it, so I stepped closer, putting a light hand on his shoulder so he wouldn't back away, and bringing my lips very close to his. "Your call, Kurt."
Since Hummel was incapable of making a split-second decision, it seemed like forever before he whispered, "Thank you," and closed the gap.
Kissing him wasn't as weird as I was expecting, and yeah, maybe I was just doing it out of pity, or whatever, but something made Kurt figure he could deepen the kiss. Wow. He tasted just right and his lips and tongue sent electric shivers up my spine. With a light groan as he pulled away, I asked, "Why would anyone give you up?"
Eyes down on the ground, Kurt shrugged. "Blaine didn't want to do long distance."
"What an idiot," I insisted, trying to see if Kurt would let me kiss him again or not.
"You-" he started and stopped, like he didn't know what to say. "You're not gay."
"Yeah," I shrugged, "I doubt it. Chicks, man."
"Then why did you kiss me?"
"Dude," I smirked, ruffling his hair with a little laugh and running my hand down the side of his face, "you kissed me." And then I was outie, walking away from Kurt and humming something we'd been singing in glee club that day.
The next time I found Kurt out at night, the kid was walking slowly, trailing his fingers along some widow's white picket fence and crying silently. If not for the occasional sniffle and the way Kurt had to look up into the light, just a little, when I said, "Hey," I doubted I would have noticed the tears at all.
Kurt returned my greeting with a whimper, melting against me when I threw an arm around the guy's shoulder. "What happened?"
Kurt took a deep, shuddering breath and handed me some sort of crazy plastic figurine. I sort of recognized it, but couldn't quite place where I'd seen the character before. "He left that," Kurt explained, "in my room. He knows how to get into my house."
"Shit," I breathed, finally recognizing the trinket as Pinocchio. Karofsky probably thought he was being clever or romantic or some shit. Without asking if it was okay, I chucked the figure as hard as I could over the house across the street, not even hearing when or where it landed. "Wanna stay at my place?" I asked the boy in my arm, needing to comfort him for some reason. "No way that douche can get past the bars my mom put up to keep me in."
Kurt laughed wetly and rubbed the tears from his face. "How are you out here if this house of yours is so well secured?"
"Thing's got a release in case of fire, I like setting stuff on fire, case closed," I replied, leading Kurt toward my house and letting my arm drop down from Kurt's shoulders to take his hand, interlacing our fingers.
Kurt frowned down at the gesture, probably confused, and I have to admit I wasn't doing much better. All I knew was that I liked the way his hand felt in mine.
I didn't plan on anything but a few hours of restless sleep happening that night, but Kurt had different ideas. Almost desperately, as soon as we were in my room, Kurt grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me hard. He backed off and winced a little like he was expecting me to hit him, which was way off base, since I was practically panting with desire after he broke that kiss. But, I really didn't want to push him into anything he wasn't ready for after what Karofsky had done, so I took his elbow gently and sat him down on the bed.
"You can sleep here," I said, tilting his head up and pressing a light kiss to his lips. "I'll take the floor if you want me to."
"No," Kurt said, catching my wrist. "It's a big bed if you … if you don't mind company."
Smiling, I drew closer to him, pushing Kurt down onto the bed and straddling him. "We both know I'm not the kind to turn down company."
"Even from me?" he asked, scooting up the bed, half like he was escaping and half like he was inviting me to come along.
"Especially from you, babe," I replied, itching to touch those lips again, to get my fingers in that hair and my body pressed against his. I held myself back though, moving forward to hover over him, close but not quite touching and bringing my lips within an inch of his. I knew what it felt like to be powerless in your own life, and I knew he hated it as much as I did, so I let Kurt make the decision for himself.
A short noise of frustration escaping his throat, Kurt grabbed the back of my head again, pulling me down so roughly that I almost bit him on accident, but even though our teeth clunked together a little, Kurt's heavy, desperate kisses washed everything else away.
Then all of a sudden I was on my back with my shirt halfway over my head, Kurt whispering, "Tell me if you want me to stop."
I didn't.
Kurt practically worshiped my chest with his fingers and his lips, losing himself in it, I think. That's something I've definitely done before - use sex to forget about everything else. And I have to say, the dude got me really hard. Like, I figured making out or whatever with him would be nice, but he was a guy and I was into chicks, end of story. Apparently I was into guys like him, too, because my body reacted to Kurt's enthusiasm and the sight of him as he stripped off his clothes, wholeheartedly.
I got naked too, because why the hell not, and then he was on top of me again, lips attached to mine, hands curled under my shoulders, legs between mine, and our dicks lined up between us. "Kurt, what...? Ughh," I groaned as the boy rolled his hips, dragging our cocks together and it wasn't quite enough friction to get off, but it was damn good to start. He'd obviously done this before.
Kurt stoked back and then forward again, pressing into me harder and whimpering against my lips as he devoured them. "Good?" he asked breathlessly. "Noah?"
"Yeah," I agreed, kissing his neck and rolling my hips with him this time.
"Jesus," Kurt sighed before breaking rhythm. "Puck? This is better wet. D'you have anything?"
"Who d'ya think you're with, babe?" I grinned, kissing him once more before pushing him back on his knees and rolling toward the bedside drawer. Ever since I realized jerking off was easier with a little lube, I'd kept a bottle on hand.
"Heads up," I cried, tossing the bottle before scooting back toward the warm body in my bed. Kurt caught it in both hands and seemed to freeze again, just staring at me.
Sitting up and pulling Kurt close, I whispered in his ear, "It's just a little fun, baby. I'm not gonna freak." Taking the bottle from his trembling hands, I squirted a little on his fingers and then moved them toward my cock as I kissed and sucked at his neck. "Feel how much I want this?" I sighed as he wrapped his fingers around me and moved them slowly.
"Shit, yes," Kurt hissed, his hips bucking toward me again.
Squirting some of the lube on my hand, I asked, "Do you want me to..."
The boy nodded, moving to lay down facing me, pulling me over into another kiss as his hand kept working me up and down. I closed my eyes and reached for Kurt's dick, just letting myself feel. It wasn't all that different from doing it to myself, but Kurt made these breathy moans that made it about fifty times better.
Then, when I was getting close, Kurt wetted his hand some more and got on top of me again, pushing his hand down onto both of our cocks together and rolling his hips again. "Oh, god," he whispered, kissing my shoulder and neck as we thrust together. "So hot, Noah. So... Oh, god!"
"Yeah, baby," I replied, setting my heels on the mattress and thrusting up into his hand, "take it!" My hands on his ass and his hand that wasn't holding him up working both of us feverishly, we sought the edge together. Something about the way he looked then, eyes pressed shut, mouth parted and panting, skin white in the light from the street, made me lose it, crashing under him and biting back a deep groan as I pumped against him and in his hand.
After jerking himself a few more times, my hands still heavy on his ass and my face buried in his neck so deeply I didn't think I'd ever forget what he smelled like, Kurt grunted hoarsely and sighed as he came on my stomach.
After Kurt tried to roll away at first, which I wouldn't let him do, and a long moment of silence, the boy said, "Thanks, Puck. I think I needed a little fun."
"Anytime, babe," I replied, kissing his lips a final time before cleaning myself off and curling around him to get some sleep.
I hadn't slept that well in at least a year.
We said our goodbyes in the early morning, while it was still dark out and I drove him to his new house, shivering, in my truck. "I'll see you at school, Noah," he said with a wistful sort of smile, like he thought this might have been a one time thing.
Something deep inside me wanted to prove otherwise. "Want me to come in and make sure that asswipe isn't waiting for you?"
"I'll text you," he replied with a grateful smile, "in a minute when I know he's not there."
I nodded in agreement and watched him trot toward the front door, keys in hand and shoulders hunched against the chill. If I'd had my way, we would have stayed in bed until June.
I'm good. He's not here. Goodnight.
I thnk u meen gud mornin, bb, I texted back, smiling as I put my truck in reverse and drove home.
At school, we shared looks and brief touches, texts and secret smiles. At first Kurt seemed surprised that I wasn't ignoring him, and then he just got more adorable from there. Most everyone thought he and Blaine must have patched things up, but we both knew that asshole wasn't worth his time.
At night, it was a different story. In my darkest clothes, I followed David Karofsky from his house to Kurt's, anger seething into every bone in my body. He crouched at Kurt's window, peering in through the gap in the curtains and perving on the boy until I sneaked up on him. Without warning or preamble, I grabbed the jock from behind, putting him in a choke hold there was no way he could get out of. As he struggled and slipped out of consciousness, I growled, "Leave my boy alone, douche bag. He will never want you. If I find you out here again, I'll shoot first and ask questions later."
Karofsky tried to nod, but my thick arm around his neck prevented it until a moment later, his whole body went slack. I held on just a few more seconds and then dropped him. Wanting to let him know there was no way in fuck Karofsky would ever be in Kurt's life, I dragged the asshole out to the street and rolled him into the gutter before going back to Kurt's window and tapping on it.
The curtains ripped away and Kurt was flushed with fear until he saw my face, smiling up at him. "What's going on, Puck?" he asked as he slid the window open.
"Karofsky's gonna wake up in your gutter a few minutes from now," I grinned. "I thought you might not want to be here when that happens."
Eyes going wide, Kurt nodded and hissed, "Meet me at the front door."
We drove off together and parked on the street next to the park, laughing about what a headache Karofsky was gonna have when he woke up. "I can't believe you did that for me," he sighed as I took his hand and led him away from the street and into the dark playground.
"Whatever," I shrugged. "It was a pretty epically badass move, wasn't it?"
"It was," he agreed, pulling me into a kiss that ended with me pressed against the jungle gym and Kurt's leg rubbing gently up and down against my crotch.
We got off feverishly quick, taking turns giving each other hand jobs and kissing slowly before starting to wander again. After a while, I asked him, "How far did'ya get with that Warbler, babe? Was he good to you?"
"Not all the way," Kurt replied, "and he meant well, but..."
"But what?" I asked, slipping my hand around his waist and grabbing the belt of his jacket there, just to have something to hold onto.
Returning the gesture by putting his hand in my back pocket, Kurt shrugged. "Blaine gave off this air of being cool with who he was and who I was, but when we were alone together? He almost seemed ashamed to touch me."
"Ass," I snorted, leaning over and nuzzling the hair behind his ear, taking a deep breath in.
"You're sort of the opposite way," Kurt observed, looking over at me and frowning. "When we're alone together at night, you make me feel like this is the most normal thing in the world, but at school...?"
Sighing, I told Kurt, "I haven't really done the couple thing since Santana dumped me at the begining of last year. I guess Quinn really messed me up about it, too."
"So the discretionary tactics aren't because I'm a boy?"
"No," I insisted. "Who in their right mind wouldn't want to brag about tapping that ass? I just ..." I sighed, trying to find the words I was no good at using. "It's like Batman. During the day, he has to be Bruce Wayne to protect what he has at night."
Laughing sharply, Kurt asked, "Did you just compare dating me to being a superhero?"
I shrugged again. "I like what this is," I admitted, squeezing Kurt's hand. "I don't want to fuck it up."
"You won't," he insisted, leading me back toward my truck. "Just tell me before you decide to move onto someone new, okay? I'd rather not be the last to know."
I'd like to say I was the kind of guy who would insist he'd never find someone else, but we both knew it would be a lie. So I shrugged and said, "Okay."
A few weeks later, after several more late-night walks and a lot of fooling around, I saw Karofsky with this dark look in his eye, passing me on his way toward Kurt, who stood talking with Mercedes at their lockers. Deciding nothing good would come of ignoring this, I set off after him, just following to see what he would do. "Hey, homo," he called, voice all pissed off and rough.
Kurt and Mercedes both looked up at him with mixtures of fear and disgust, though Kurt was weighted heavily toward fear. "What do you want?" Mercedes asked, her eyes following me as I came around from behind Karofsky and folded my hand into Kurt's.
"Yeah, what d'you want, dude?" I added, giving Kurt a dirty smile, which made him clutch onto me tightly.
"What do you think you're doing, Puckerman?" Karofsky asked, sneering at our interlaced fingers. "Since when do you hold hands with the fairy?"
"Since awhile ago," I shrugged. "We gonna have a problem or are you gonna back off my boy like a good little psycho?"
"He shouldn't be here," Karofsky insisted, fists clenched.
"Maybe you shouldn't be here," Mercedes insisted, getting between the guy and Kurt. "Because I will witness the hell out of this shit, Karofsky, and even you can't get away with hitting a girl."
"Fine," he growled, checking my shoulder roughly as he passed.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Kurt whispered, "Thanks, guys."
"Um-hmm," Mercedes hummed in response, giving the two of us an attitude-filled look up and down. "Please tell me I'm only hearing about this now because it was just for Karofsky's benefit."
"Don't go all mother hen on us, babe," I told the black chick. "Just be happy someone's seeing to your boy at night." Then, I gave Kurt a kiss on the cheek and walked away, toward my next class. So what if people were staring? As much as I hate it sometimes, the Puckasaurus was made to be looked at.
Word spread quickly and it seemed that the only time Kurt and I had to ourselves was in the middle of the night. Walking hand in hand the night before we left for Regionals, Kurt asked, "Noah? D'you think we have a chance at making it to nationals?"
I shrugged, "Sure we've got a chance, babe. We're like fifty times better than last year."
"D'you want to room together? I'm signed up to stay with Finn, but I think we could switch."
"Hells, yes!" I replied with a laugh, pressing Kurt back against the side of a building and kissing the crap out of him. "You know I can't sleep without a little somethin', somethin', baby."
"So us sharing a room and fooling around is good for the team as a whole," he insisted with a laugh.
"Yep."
"And Finn won't mind staying with Artie."
"Hell, no. Those two are buds."
"Good," Kurt said in his high voice, before dropping it. "'Cause I really don't want him walking in on what I'm planning to do to you."
We killed at the competition, beating Dalton and Vocal Adrenaline with our badassness. When I was sure Blaine was watching, I grabbed Kurt and kissed him hard, flipping the bird in the Warbler's direction. Finn cuffed me in the back of the head and apologized for me, but the stricken look on Blaine's face was totally worth it.
While everyone was celebrating in the hotel restaurant, I went up to Kurt's and my room for a shower and then wandered the hotel for a bit. My boy would be celebrating for awhile, but then we had plans to hook up, plans I intended on keeping. That is, until I saw Kurt pressed up against a wall with Blaine's tongue in his mouth, and quickly looked away. Pissed beyond belief, I stormed out of the hotel and just started walking.
When my phone beeped, it had a text I almost didn't want to answer, but then I wondered if maybe Schue was looking for me. Knowing my luck, if I didn't respond, he'd call the sheriff and start a search party, so I fished my phone out of my pocket and read the text.
OMG! Where are you? Blaine just f-ing lip-raped me! I need you.
Kurt. He hadn't wanted that kiss? I have to admit, I didn't watch long enough to notice whether or not he was enjoying it. All I saw was Kurt pressed to the wall, his head in Blaine's hands and his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Hoping I wasn't being played, I sighed and turned around, texting Kurt that I would be up soon. What if that cocksucker had made my boy cry? I'd fucking kill him.
"There you are, Noah," Kurt sighed when I got to the room. His eyes were red from crying and I fell onto the bed next to him, wrapping him up in my arms. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to kiss him."
"Shh," I said, turning off the lamp beside the bed and plunging us into darkness, into our time. "I know you didn't, babe."
"Can I kiss you? I swear, I brushed my teeth and gargled for at least three minutes while I was waiting for you to get back."
"Sure," I agreed, letting him come to me, like always. It was nice, not having to be the aggressor, letting Kurt kiss me and grind against my crotch and breathe, "God, Noah!" in my ear.
Then, a wicked smile crossed Kurt's lips and he asked, "Do you trust me?"
"Yeah," I admitted, knowing how easily he could have gotten away with Blaine kissing him if I hadn't seen them together. Kurt didn't have to tell me, but he did. "I trust you."
Kurt rolled off the bed and came back with two long scarves and a bottle of lube. "Take off your shirt," he whispered, watching from beside me as I grabbed the back of my t-shirt and pulled it up and over my head.
Watching me in the dim light from the bathroom, Kurt took first one hand and tied it to the headboard, before doing the other one, too. "Too tight?"
Blood racing at all the possibilities of where this might be going, I shook my head. "Good," he replied with a grin, backing off and stepping into the best light. Then, he began to strip. He was wearing one of his crazy outfits and as piece by piece fell to the floor, my dick got harder and harder. Yeah, the nights were definitely our time.
When Kurt came back to bed, he took my pants and ran tickling fingers up my lower legs and thighs, asking, "D'you miss girls?"
"A little," I admitted. "D'you miss Blaine?"
"Not at all," he laughed, kissing the sensitive crease of my hip before tonguing it, holding my legs down with strong arms. "Why d'you let me, you know, call the shots?"
I shrugged, trying not to squirm too much under Kurt. "I figured for once in your life, you needed to."
"Thank you," he whispered sincerely, holding my eyes with his for a long moment before pressing his hot lips to my cock in a kiss.
No one at school cared that we were regional champions, mostly due to Miss Sylvester's constant cracks at our expense. Everyone seemed to care a lot more that Kurt and I were together.
One night, when we found each other outside the Seven-Eleven, more by habit than by plan, the others found us. They were all jocks from school and I fought them off as long as I could, but they managed to knock Kurt out in spite of me. Thank god Delilah was out working that night and called the cops, or it would have been a lot worse.
Officer Zimenski managed to run down Karofsky and arrest the fat ass, but all the others got away. Grinding my teeth, I held Kurt up off the pavement, my hand on his smooth chest, reassuring myself that he was still alive with every strong thump of his heart. Officer Cooper smacked Kurt's cheek a few times until he woke up, confused. "It's alright, son," he sighed, sitting back with a sigh of relief. Meeting my eyes, Cooper chuckled a little and clapped my shoulder, "Maybe it's time to start enforcing that curfew, huh, Puckerman?"
"You wish," I smirked, hugging Kurt closer and wincing when he touched the split on my lip.
Even in the dead of night, hospitals keep their lights too bright and I swear I was squinting for ten minutes straight after we got there. Seven stitches on my left eyebrow, where some douche ran my face into the damn brick wall of the Seven-Eleven. "Am I still pretty?" I asked Kurt when he came to hold my hand.
"Of course," he smiled sadly, fingering his own black eye. "I've been pronounced good to go and my dad's on his way."
"Shit."
When Burt Hummel showed up, Finn and Carole Hudson in his wake, he grabbed Kurt into a crushing hug. "Ow, dad, ow!" Kurt complained. "Bruised ribs!"
"Sorry, kiddo," Burt said, releasing his son and looking over at me. "You fought for my boy?"
I dropped my eyes and nodded. I'd never been good at meeting the parents of the people I was sleeping with, much less meeting them in the hospital. Figuring I should leave Kurt to his family, I stood up to go somewhere else, only to be crushed into the old guy's arms in a tight hug. "Oof!"
"Thank you," Burt said as he let go, ducking his head a little to meet my eyes directly. "For protecting him. I know without you there it woulda been a helluva lot worse."
I was scared Mr. Hummel was probably right and what that might mean tomorrow, so I shrugged in reply. Badasses do not say please or thank you or you're welcome. Even if they feel it.
Kurt couldn't sneak out late at night anymore, because his dad had gotten super-vigilant even though Karofsky had been charged as an adult, expelled, and went to live with his grandmother in Florida to escape the shame. But, Burt did look the other way when I wandered close enough to the house some nights and decided to break in.
Kurt was hardly ever asleep when I got there. "I missed you."
"Me too, babe," I smiled, stripping off my jacket, shoes and jeans and crawling into bed with him.
"I sleep when you're here," he admitted, pulling me into his arms. "I wish things could always be like this."
"Why not?" I shrugged, leaning in to almost-kiss Kurt until he laughed and closed the distance between us, the kiss slow and soft. "Less than six months, we'll both be eighteen. Then we could do whatever the fuck we wanted."
"D'you know how much my dad would kill me for not graduating?"
I laughed, kissing Kurt's neck and running the tips of my fingers up the soft, taught skin under his shirt.
He thought I was asleep the first time he said it. "I love you."
I squeezed him tighter in my 'sleep' and thought it back, so hard.
Even though I felt it, it took me a long time to say it back; the first time it was in the middle of the night between Christmas Eve and the holiday itself. I didn't get him a present, because I was saving all my money for the big surprise I had for him. So I said, "You know I love you, right?"
"I know," he smiled, taking my hand and kissing me.
"You happy?"
"I am," he smiled. "But I can't help wondering what will happen when I move to New York next year. I don't want to go without you."
"You have to go, Kurt," I insisted, pulling him to lay down on top of me. "I'll still be here when you get back."
"What if I never come back?"
"Then I'll just have to think about following you," I insisted.
"Goodbye, Noah. I can't wait for you to come visit me," Kurt sighed, squeezing me tighter, even though the August air was muggy and warm. "I won't sleep for the next six weeks."
"Call me, babe," I insisted, walking him from my front door back to his car in the dim porch light. "All the time. And if you fuck anyone else, send pictures."
Kurt laughed, ducking his head. "I won't. And ... I wanna know if you're with someone else," he insisted, "but please don't send me pictures. This is hard enough as it is."
"Okay," I nodded, kissing him. "You should get home, baby. Big day tomorrow. I'll talk to you after your flight?"
Kurt tried to smile, but he was crying so it was more of a grimace than a smile. He was gonna be so surprised. "I love you, babe."
"Love you, too, Noah," he said as he got into his truck and closed the door, the window open between us so he could give me one last kiss.
Sadly, Kurt waved and backed out of my mother's driveway. Once he was out of sight, I hustled back into the house. Everything was in place, including the note to my mother. In the dark, I sneaked into my sister's room and hugged her goodbye. I didn't give my mom the same courtesy, because she would just wake up and ask me what the hell was going on, so I left her a note on the coffee maker where she'd be sure to find it.
Then I got in my truck, which had already been packed with whatever I couldn't live without – it wasn't too much to tell the truth – and blew a goodbye kiss to my childhood home. Smirking, I started the engine and drove off into the night.
I knew I looked out of place, leaning against the dorm building and trying not to check the time too often, but it was worth it to see the look on Kurt's face, bright in the August sun, when he saw me.
"Puck!" he cried, running into my arms and squeezing me tightly. "What are you doing here? How did you get here?"
Shrugging, I replied, "Couldn't sleep, so I drove. Thought maybe you'd want to live together."
"What? Where? I mean, what?"
Grinning, I took a letter from my back pocket and pressed it into his hands. "You know I think school is for suckers, but I figured if it meant I could be with you all the time, I'd give it a shot."
"How did you even get in here?" Kurt asked, smiling as he scanned the letter, while I went to help the taxi driver with Kurt's bags.
"I may have paid Jacob Ben Israel to take the SATs for me," I smirked. "But I think coming in fourth at Nationals last year and second this year really helped, because I'm here on a music scholarship."
"How did you do all this without me finding out about it?" he asked, handing me back my acceptance letter and taking some of his bags as I grabbed the rest, leading the way toward our room. "How did you get here before me?"
"Drove all night," I shrugged. "I don't sleep anymore if you're not around, babe. Leaves me a lot of time to figure shit out."
Kurt and I pushed our beds together, I sold my car, and school started. We became known as "the gay guys in 1411" but I couldn't really give a shit. All I knew was with Kurt sleeping next to me, it was damn easy not to wander around New York alone at night. Which was probably for the best.
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