My third chapter overall of the evening! I literally cannot see straight, but I wanted this up. I wanted Kurt to bro it up at some point, so that's what's happening here and throughout this fic. If you're not down with dude!Kurt, go away, because you have no soul. I own absolutely nothing, not even the computer I typed this on. Love and huggles- Maya

The front door slammed open. "Hudson!" Puck called. "Prepare to motherfucking die!"

Kurt abandoned his smoothie-making to poke his head out into the living room as Finn tramped down the stairs with a huge grin on his face. "Puck, I am going to kick your ass!"

"Bring. It."

On eyebrow up, Kurt asked, "What in the world is happening? Are you going to fight or what? You're both smiling like axe-murderers."

The jocks looked at each other, then at Kurt. "Halo," they said in unison, with identical "obviously" expressions. Kurt rolled his eyes and the boys stormed off into the family room, shoving at each other and laughing.

Five minutes later, Kurt's smoothie was done, and he was just about to escape to his basement when a pained cry in Finn's voice rang through the house. Hardly able to ignore it, Kurt followed the sound; what if they were fighting over a girl again? Finn may be big, but Puck could totally take him. Cautiously, he tiptoed into the family room to see Puck on his feet, crowing over a prone Finn, who was curled into the fetal position and groaning on the floor. "The hell?" Kurt asked rhetorically.

Both boys looked up at him. "Oh, hey, Kurt," Finn said coolly.

"Yeah, hey." Looking at the TV, Kurt saw that one character was dead and the other wasn't. "I assume you've killed my brother."

Nodding excitedly, Puck answered, "Damn straight."

Finn swore from the floor, then lurched to a sitting position. "I want a fuckin' rematch, dude!"

"Ooh, gauntlet thrown," Kurt observed dryly.

"Don't hate, Porcelain, just 'cause you can't play Halo."

"Who says I can't?" Two pairs or eyebrows rose skeptically. "What? I could if I wanted to." The brows rose higher, totally in sync. Kurt's eyes narrowed in determination. "Finn. Give me your controller, since you apparently suck anyway. Puckerman, show me the mechanics. Practice round."

Knowing better than to fight Kurt's Bitch Glare, both jocks scrambled to obey. Finn looked on as Puck ran Kurt through the gameplay basics, from which button did what to who was meant to be shooting at whom. Soon, Puck went quiet and watched Kurt fumble and stumble through the map, growing more confident with every step. He whipped out his iPod and stuck an earbud in his ear, and his playing got better before the jocks' eyes. The round ended, and Kurt sat back with a satisfied smirk. "Well, boys?"

"Dude," was all Finn had to say. Puck just blinked at Kurt and his score on the screen.

That smirk was turned on Finn. "Why don't you play me, brother dear?"

Finn's wide eyes slid away. "Uh, no thanks."

"Hmmmm?" Kurt cocked his head, an unfamiliar glimmer in his eyes. "You scared, Hudson?"

Puck actually fell over, and Finn promptly got defensive. "Nuh-uh!" he protested eloquently. "Alright, Hummel, let's go!"

From his position on his back on the floor, Puck wordlessly surrendered his controller to Finn. The quarterback threw himself affrontedly onto the couch next to Kurt, who just smirked at him some more. The game began, and within minutes Kurt had beaten his stepbrother soundly into the dirt. When Finn complained that he didn't like his controller, Kurt switched with him (eye-roll notwithstanding) for the next round, in which Kurt beat the crap out of him again.

When the game was over, Finn just laid down, burying his face in the couch cushions as the victor examined his nails. Puck clambered up onto the couch with them. "My go," he declared.

A few minutes later, Puck was jamming his thumbs violently into the buttons, curses hissing through his gritted teeth, while Kurt hummed along with his music beside him. Realizing that all was lost, Puck dropped his controller and scowled at Kurt. "Are you, no lie, kicking my ass to Gaga?"

"Dude," was all Finn said, but the tone was full of disapproval at such an insult.

"Not exactly," Kurt answered puck, rolling his eyes at both jocks. "Here." Graceful as always, he rose and stuck his iPod into the dock above the TV. He hit play, and a punk cover of "Bad Romance" poured from the sound system. Puck and Finn's eyes widened, and Kurt almost laughed at their expressions. First he pwns them at Halo, now he listens to dude music? When it was over, Kurt reclaimed his iPod and raised a brow. "Questions, boys?"

"Dude," Finn said again, "you're a dude."

The brow rose higher. "No, really?"

"What the ever-loving fuck?" Puck said. "That was actually beast."

"Punk Goes Pop, gentlemen." Kurt replaced his earbud in his ear. "What, you thought I only listened to show tunes?"

"Yes," Finn answered blankly, wincing when Puck punched him in the arm on principle.

Kurt rolled his eyes at both of them. "Well, I don't."

"Lemme see." Puck held out his hand. Kurt gave him a vaguely suspicious look, and Puck snorted in return. "C'mon, I won't hurt your baby." Hesitantly, Kurt surrendered the device, and Puck searched it hungrily, finding an impressive assortment of punk, screamo, and 90's alternative mixed in with the show tunes and Top 40's. "The hell, Hummel, since when are you cool?" Finn looked over his shoulder with awed interest.

Kurt somehow managed to snort elegantly. "Bitch, please, I am so far beyond cool."

"Apparently," Finn agreed with no small amount of incredulity.

Rolling his eyes again, Kurt freed his iPod from their clutches and pocketed it. "Anywhore, I have to go pack. Going back to school in the morning." Puck and Finn exchanged a look of regret, which Kurt ignored, heading toward his room.

When he reached the doorway, Finn stopped him, asking, "Uh, you wanna come backup when you're done and, like, play some more?"

Kurt looked over his shoulder, his perfectly manicured hand on the doorway, and considered his stepbrother and his former bully beside him. "Er, no. I should probably turn in early. Long drive tomorrow."

"Oh." The downcast eyes and disappointed looks surprised Kurt. "Then, see you at breakfast?" The hope in his eyes was confusing.

"No, I leave at dawn."

"Oh." The disappointment was back, and it was making Kurt uncomfortable. He was feeling a headache coming on.

So he escaped. "Good night, boys." As he hurried away, he heard them respond in unison, "'Night," and they sounded so forlorn. Thank Gaga he didn't have to be around that nonsense often.

Punk Goes Pop is a real thing! Youtube it, it's awesome. My love goes out to my brother, who showed it to me. I don't own it though, and neither does he.