Let it be known that I'm an asshole of the highest degree, and that I can't help but not keep piling my fics up with AU WIP's right now. That is all.
Chapter One - We Have Just Begun
Present
He could hear the explosions overhead, and lowered his head as per was procedure to help himself avoid being blinded by falling debris. He heard the cracking sound of gunshot being fired on both sides, and resisted the urge to ball up under the crate of boxes that had fallen just moments before to create a cave. Resisted the urge to just shut his eyes tight and block out the rest of the world.
He wished he had listened to his gut, because with another crack of a gunshot, he was on the ground. Pain shot through him as he fell onto the matted grass and dirt, his helmet protecting his head to the best of it's abilities. Still, he felt like he had just received a concussion; a huge one at that. He heard the shouts of his fellow soldiers, and could feel a pair of hands on his neck, checking his vitals.
"Puck?"
He heard his name, and could only swallow as he could feel himself getting lighter and lighter.
"Everything o- Fuck, is that Puckerman?"
He heard the voice of Finn, his bunkmate back in the barracks. He heard more swearing, before his eyes were opened widely by rough fingertips.
"Puck, hang in there, okay?" Finn pleaded, and he began to feel more and more hands on him. His eyes began to droop dangerously, and Finn could only bite his lip.
"Man, get off him, we need to get him back to base. Or at least to one of our buildings."
Nodding, Finn made quick work to get up, and his eyelids dropped for the last time. His chest felt crushed. Crushed under what was the question. And mainly the problem. He was getting lighter and lighter, and the voices started to disperse and get softer. The image of one person came to mind, one person only.
You, was all he could think before he blacked out for good.
Spring Break, April, 2000
Shutting the door to the refrigerator, Noah knocked back his head along with the carton of milk connected to his mouth. Gulping down more than half of the carton, he heard a small grunt. Tilting his head back down, he saw his father looking at him. He sighed.
"Sorry Pa," he mumbled, and his dad just nodded.
Ezekiel Puckerman made his way over to the stove to cook his customary kosher breakfast for the day; It was Friday, meaning it was eggs sunny side up with two pieces of toast and cut up strawberries on the side, with three pieces of turkey bacon for brunch.
Noah put back the carton of milk, reminding himself to get another carton next time he went to go buy groceries for the house (or, really, write it on the list for his dad to go buy groceries, seeing how he went completely mental when he tried to go out and buy them for him).
"So, Pa... I'm here for just spring break," Noah said carefully as he took the twelve count box of eggs and a carton of strawberries out of the fridge. His father nodded his understanding, and Noah leaned off the side of the counter, his hands stuffing themselves into his pocket.
"I was... Well, I'm going back to the army base in Virgina in two weeks. Maybe you.. You wanted to go out before then?" Noah asked, praying his father would allow him this one small favor. One small thing to allow himself to indulge on when his thoughts strayed to this summer while on duty in the army.
Ezekiel quickly stiffened, his back to Noah as he got a pan out of the cabinent. Noah looked down at the ground.
Anger reared its ugly head up in him. Anger and resentment.
"Just... Forget it. Forget I said anything at all," Noah gritted out before stomping out of the kitchen and out of the door, watching his father's face stiffen for just a moment as he looked out the window above the kitchen sink, before he turned his back on him to face the stove and start on his breakfast. Noah could only fist his hands up in anger, shaking slightly from resisting the urge to punch in the window next to him.
Ezekiel Puckerman. The man who never left his house unless it was to go on a crazy coin hunt with his son. Or to go to the only grocery shop in town older than himself, the same grocery list as last weeks in hand. The man who scheduled his time perfectly, following it like it was his religious duty. Organizing his books on a whim every Friday night at exactly eight o'clock in the evening depending on the schedule. Week one was organization by author's last name, alphabetical order. Week two was organization by author's last name, reverse alphabetical order. Week three was organization by an author's first name in alphabetical order, and then in reverse order the next week. Week five was then organization by title name alphabetically, before the process began all over again.
The man who went to bed each school night at 7 P.M, and at 9 P.M on the dot on the weekends. The man who became infamous in town when his wife had left him and their son in the middle of the night, taking with her their three year old daughter and the family car. The man who sat down each night other than Friday to look through his coin collection and polish every last one of them.
The same man who thought that coin hunting was something to be a cause for excitement. The same man who thought his son would only progress to love the coins more and more as he got older. The same man who loved those coins more than anything; Noah was suspicious that he loved them even more than himself.
Shaking his head, he grabbed his surfboard from it's usual place on the porch, and started the walk to the beach from his house. It wasn't too long, seeing how his father had chosen a house close to the ocean so he wouldn't have to deal with neighbors, but still far enough to not have to deal with people overall. He tightened his grip on his surfboard, willing himself to stop thinking about his dad for even just a few moments.
But, instead of complying, his mind just went everywhere. He thought back to the night his mother left him, yelling and crying and screaming with a sobbing Sara in tow. How she had yelled about how Ezekiel needed help, how she just wasn't happy anymore. He thought of how pathetic his father had been at that moment, just watching her hastily pack all of her clothing and belongings in her bag. Of how sad and painful it was to watch as the only movement he made was a twitch here and there when she moved his stuff out of position, how he would just bend in on himself more and more as the house became messier and messier.
How he watched Ruth take his daughter off into the unknown in their only car, to only go inside and begin the hour long job of cleaning up the mess, before retiring for bed. How he had gotten up the next morning, morning paper in hand, with his Tuesday breakfast in front of him. How he went on with his schedule that day, even sitting in Sara's room for the customary thirty minutes he spent in there reading her three chapters of Harry Potter. He read to air, as Noah ripped his room apart, yelling and banging on the floor once exhaustion had made him lay down and breathe.
He thought of how long it took his father to slowly adopt a new schedule, to get used to not having the two females in his life. A year. It had taken him a year of his life, and then some to get fully used to it just being him and Noah. And that's when the coin collecting happened.
Noah had been ecstatic. He had risen to the occasion, feeling proud he was getting his dad out of the house for afternoon trips to the pawn shop in the near town of Westerville, and weekend trips to coin shows and conventions in Columbus. But, time went on, and he felt his spirits deflating. His father had become obsessed.
Sara's room slowly morphed into the place he kept his coins, in careful storage units. Soon enough, the walls had been transformed along with the floor and furniture. Instead of the pink painted walls with fairy borders, the room had morphed into one with newspaper ads covering the walls, fliers on rare coins and coin conventions becoming the borders.
He remembered the first time he began to refuse to help his father out. He had been thirteen.
It was the starting point of most of his troubles in his teenage years; he almost didn't graduate from high school because of it all.
His father had never yelled at him. Not once. He didn't know if it was a wouldn't or a couldn't behavior.
Back then, all he had known was that his old man didn't get furious when he blasted his music on the loudest setting possible. He didn't get hit when police officers brought him home for stealing from local convenient stores or sneaking into the local strip bar. He didn't get grounded when he came home reeking of booze and cigarette smoke.
He didn't get the guidance he had needed at that age to make better decisions. It wasn't until the JROTC coordinator had saved his sorry ass from being expelled that he had began to come near to having a father figure in his life.
Noah hadn't realized just how far he had gotten in the midst of his I-hate-everything thinking, and it was only the quickly accumulating feeling of him sinking with each step that made him realize he was finally at the beach. Kicking off his shoes, he tied the laces together before throwing them over his shoulder. His shorts soon followed, and finally, his shirt.
Whistling a little tune he made up on the spot, he made his way to the water front, the sun making the water glitter and twinkle in a different way every few steps. No one's around, he thought to himself as he got closer and closer to the pier part of the beach. Good, was his last thought before dumping his clothing and shoes onto the sand,making sure they would be fairly visible when he would come looking for them.
He jogged to the water, not letting the cold waves deter him. Once he was in knee deep, he let his board slap onto the water, before working his way deeper and deeper into the water.
The sun was nearly the highest it would get all day, and the water was a reflection of that. The deeper Noah got into the ocean, the calmer he became. Soon, he ended up on top of his board, waiting for the waves to carry him away, to let him to think more about having to stay on top. Let him not think of his father, who, judging by the position of the sun and the relative time, would be packing up two sandwiches and a saran wrapped bowl of fruit salad into a lunch cooler for his trip to Columbus.
Shrugging his shoulders to relax himself, he saw the huge waves coming one after another in the distance, and grinned.
Suddenly, all he could think of was the right timing necessary to catch the full potential of the wave. The right way he should stand to actually stay on the board, and the tricks he could warm up with before going for the heavier stuff. Positioning himself on his board, he couldn't help but let out a loud 'whoop' as the wave crashed over him.
Poking at his skin, Noah shook his head slightly to get the remaining water out of his ears, and stretched his arms out. He tossed his board aside gently onto the sand next to him, sitting down on the hot sand, the salt water still lingering on him cooling down the sand to a tolerable temperature. He looked up at the sun, slightly cupping his hands around his eyes so he wouldn't be blinded.
The sun was beating down at him, but he could tell it would be setting soon enough. Turning his head to the side, he noticed a party had started up, on the far side of the beach.
Just a bunch of college kids home for spring break, he thought to himself as he stretched himself out. Splaying his limbs out, he closed his eyes.
He heard the waves crashing against the pier. He felt the sun blanket it's warmth on him. He could practically taste the salty sea water as he parted his mouth slightly. He could smell the brine scent of the ocean all over him.
He laid there, content with basking in the sun. It wasn't until a high, lithe voice broke him out of his peaceful trance that he came back to earth.
"You're going to get skin cancer if you don't put on sunscreen."
Blinking, Noah sat up and looked around. He hadn't realized just how late it had gotten; the sun had already started to set, the beautiful shades of orange, red, yellow, and purple everywhere he looked along the skyline. He turned his body slightly, and was met with a face he had never seen before.
The young man in question was someone Noah had never seen before in town, but he was sure he must have been the son of one of the more... Better off families that he had never had the chance of interacting with. Hard to when you're the local badass who got roped into the JROTC program so the school could at least have reason to not expel you, he thought to himself as he took in the boy's face. It was long, but it suited him well. Bright blue eyes twinkled as they looked at him, pink pouty lips frowning at him. He was dressed in black skinny jeans, a white dress shirt, and a gray vest over that.
Noah could only smirk.
"You're going to get heat stroke if you don't choose more appropriate clothing for the beach," He replied, getting up as he started to stretch. The man blushed slightly, and huffed.
"First Blaine, and now this. Honestly, do men have no sense of fashion now a days?" He mumbled to himself, before looking back up to Noah. He frowned even more.
"Sorry, I don't exactly know your name, and I don't think you know mine either," he said, before putting his hand out delicately. "Kurt Hummel."
Noah stuck out his hand as the other held his shorts and t-shirt. "Noah Puckerman."
Hummel. That explained it then. The Hummel's were one of the oldest family in Lima, Ohio. While it was a family filled to the brim with mechanics and handy men, they had their work cut out for them. Noah guessed it was his father that ran Hummel's Tire and Lube, the local car shop that everyone know was the only option when you were having car troubles.
Kurt smiled.
"Nice to meet you Noah," he said, showing a bit of teeth as he talked. Noah noted that his smile was perfect, although his teeth seemed to be smaller than most other people's.
"Likewise."
They stood there for a few moments, studying each other. It was only when someone shouted Kurt's name that they both blinked, turning their heads to see another young man walk towards them. Kurt's face instantly lit up in recognition, and he waved the guy over.
"Kurt I thought you got lost again," the short man said as he bent over slightly, obviously out of breath. Kurt just laughed.
"I've lived here all my life Blaine, whereas you're from Westerville, in case you've forgotten. I'm fine," Kurt said with a smirk, and turned to look at Noah.
"Noah, this is my best friend, Blaine Anderson. Blaine, this is Noah Puckerman. He just so happened to agree with you on my impeccable choice of clothing," He said, shaking his head at the last part. Blaine just grinned.
"So I see you're a practical guy, unlike Kurt here," Blaine said with a laugh, and Kurt slapped him on the arm. Noah could only crack a small smile.
"Practicality is something you have to know in the army," He said, and Blaine nodded.
"And something for living. Kurt, you should be glad you weren't born back in the stone age. You would have ended up as some lucky animals dinner while looking for berries to dye your clothing with," Blaine snickered, and Kurt slapped him upside the head this time.
"Alright, enough making fun of me in front of new people. Honestly, you'd think you'd have learned some manners at Dalton Academy." Shaking his head, he turned to Noah.
"Me and Blaine are a part of an organization building homes here for the families getting displaced by beach erosion and storms. We're having a bonfire right now; you're welcome to join us," Kurt said, and Blaine nodded.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure David got more than enough food to feed the entire town population, and then some," he mused, and Kurt looked at Noah hopefully.
"So?" he asked, and Noah looked down at his board and sandy clothing. He thought back to what was awaiting him back at home; an empty house until seven, in which his father would put away any new coins he had gotten, and eat a dinner of Chicken Parmesan. Then he would start to reorder his bookcase at exactly eight o'clock, before retiring for the night. All without saying more than five words to Noah.
Oh, what the hell, he thought to himself.
"Yeah, sure. I'm in."
"So you're in the military."
Noah looked over at Kurt, who was in the middle of sipping water from the bottle he held in his hand. It wasn't a question, but a statement. Swallowing the piece of the burger he had just chewed, he nodded.
"Been serving for three years now," Noah replied, drinking some of the beer Blaine had given him early on in the evening.
"Never went to college?" Kurt asked him, and he shook his head.
"Was in the JROTC at McKinley; Went straight to the army following graduation," He said, taking his final bite of his burger before putting his plate down. Kurt immediately took it and tossed it in the trash bag next to him.
"Ever wished you went?" He asked him, and Noah's brows knitted together. Kurt was quick to swallow the water he had just drank.
"I mean, if you couldn't be in the army. What would you want to do?" He elaborated, and Noah shrugged.
"I mean, I never really expected to actually graduate high school. I just thought I'd end up at some dead beat job, stuck here in Lima," He admitted, and Kurt bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.
"Well... You made it out," He said with a small smile, and Noah just laughed quietly.
"I did."
They sat there as the stars began to shine in the night sky alongside with the moon, which was full at that moment. They weren't too far from the water themselves, and they could hear the waves peacefully roll in, and roll back out.
"So, I'm guessing you go to school then," Noah asked, and Kurt smiled, looking down at his water bottle.
"Yeah. New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts," He said quietly, and Noah whistled.
"Sounds... Important enough. I'm guessing it's pretty impressive?" He asked, and Kurt shook his head with a small laugh.
"Leave it to you, to not know of the number one school in the nation for Musical Theatre," Kurt said, teasing Noah. Noah just rolled his eyes.
"I'm pretty sure if I told you my ranking in the military, you'd ask me if I got a fancy beret and a shiny new button to go with the it," Noah smirked, and Kurt gasped in mock shock.
"Excuse you Puckerman," he said, pushing into him slightly. Noah just laughed.
"Nah," He said, before ruffling up Kurt's hair. That earned him a shriek and a hit upside the head from the brunette, and Noah couldn't resist further teasing the college freshman. He picked him up and slung him over his shoulder, and he could feel tiny fists beating into his back.
"Noah!" Kurt shrieked out, thrashing around, trying to get back to the ground. Tightening his grip, Noah started to walk towards the water. Kurt began to laugh, but then he saw where Noah was taking him.
"Rape!" He shouted out, and a few people turned to look up at the pair. Once everyone realized it was just the man Kurt had introduced over the beginnings of the bonfire, everyone just laughed before going back to their former conversations and drinks. Kurt sighed.
"Noah, put me down right now," He growled out, and Noah paused for a moment.
"Or what?" He asked, and Kurt huffed.
"Or I'll be forced to... Erm... Just know it's a very bad thing," He replied tersely, and Noah chuckled before setting the smaller boy down.
Kurt let out a small yelp as he felt himself being put down, and immediately went to smoothing his outfit down.
"I should punch you," he commented as he tried to fix his hair, and Noah shrugged.
"You could try, but you'd probably just hurt yourself in the process."
"Shut up."
Kurt stared at Noah for a few moments, before shaking his head.
"Neanderthal," he mumbled before walking along the shore line. Noah laughed and jogged to catch up with him.
"Oh, come on. You know it was fun," Noah said, poking him in the side. Kurt jumped, and glared at Noah.
"Personal space is something to be valued," he said, but with the small smile on his lips, Noah knew he wasn't being serious.
"Egh. Personal space? Never heard of it." Noah slung his arm over Kurt's shoulder, and the younger boy blushed slightly.
"I can tell," he said, before stopping.
"Sit?" He asked Noah, and the young man nodded. They both sat down on the cool sand, and Kurt couldn't help but look up at the moon.
"It's a beautiful night," He said softly, and Noah nodded his head in agreement.
"One of the most beautiful nights I've seen in a while," He mumbled, and watched the full moon sitting in the night sky.
"Did you know your thumb is bigger than the moon, wherever you are, no matter what?" Noah said quietly, and Kurt turned to look at him.
"No way," was his response. Noah just grinned before gently reaching for Kurt's hand. He could feel the boy stiffen for a second, before relaxing. Guiding his hand up, he pried his thumb apart from it's closed position, and put it in front of the moon. He heard Kurt gasp softly.
"Anywhere and everywhere," Noah said, and let go of Kurt's hand. The younger boy brought his hand down, before looking at his other one and doing the same with it. He giggled softly.
"You're right," he said as he closed one eye, the other watching his thumb block out the moon from his vision.
"'Course I'm right," He joked, and Kurt just slapped him on the arm lightly before going back to looking at the night sky.
"So, tell me about your family," Kurt said softly, and Noah just looked at him with an incredulous expression.
"Well, I mean it was the talk of the town-" Noah began to say, before realizing Kurt would have been only four, five at most at the time that his father became the Boo Radley of the town. Sighing, he lay himself down on the sand. Kurt watched him from his sitting position, waiting for Noah to talk.
"Well, my mom left us when I was eight with my sister. It's basically just been me and my father this whole time, really," Noah said. And even then, it was a lonely life, he added to himself. Kurt just looked out into the ocean, before laying down besides Noah.
"My mother died when I was eight from cancer. She had her first run in with cancer shortly after I was born, and wasn't in remission long enough for me to have another sibling," Kurt said quietly, and slowly reached towards the tan hand next to his own. He was surprised when he felt a pressure return the action, and felt his breath hitched in his throat.
"I'm sorry," Noah whispered, the mood of it all not letting him speak up in a louder tone. Kurt just squeezed his hand.
"It was a long time ago," he said.
They laid there in silence. It wasn't anything close to the awkward silences Noah had experienced all through his life. Not like the awkward silence he would meet when he arrived home from wherever he had been, even when the house was being occupied by one other person. Not like the awkward silence he would go through during a painful date with a girl. Not like... Anything he had experienced really.
There would be the random twirling of thumbs, the feeling of Kurt rubbing his thumb against his own skin. The occasional pressure he'd feel, as if Kurt were making it known he was still there. The occasional pressure he'd return, to let Kurt know he was still there. The noises of the party began to die down slowly, but sure enough, more and more people were leaving the bonfire. He didn't blame them- it was nearing one, maybe two in the morning.
"Hey Noah."
Lifting his head up slightly, he looked over at Kurt. He was biting his lip.
"Yeah?"
"Are.. Well... Would you be opposed going out on a date with me tomorrow night? Or, well, tonight I guess would be the actual wording I should be using, seeing how it's like two in the morning and it'd be correct of me to say tonight and-" Kurt rambled on, and Noah couldn't help but cover Kurt's mouth with his hand after making sure it was free of sand.
"You're cute when you're nervous," Noah teased, and Kurt just looked at him, exasperated.
"I'm taking that as a yes," Kurt said, before mumbling, "Asshole." Noah kissed him on the cheek, and Kurt jumped slightly at the sudden contact, his cheeks beginning to turn a faint, pink colour.
"You're also cute when you blush," Noah commented, and Kurt just slapped him on the arm. Noah winced this time, and Kurt put on a triumphant grin.
"You're cute when you flinch," was his only response before pinching Noah's cheeks. Jumping up, he ran away.
Good thing too, Noah thought to himself as he got up and began to run after the brunette. He saw two figures in the distant, and began running even faster. He saw Kurt hiding behind Blaine, who looked to be in an argument with Kurt.
"Kurt, he is like two times my height, what the hell," Blaine hissed to Kurt, and Kurt just swatted at his arm as he tried to catch his breath.
"Using Blaine as a shield? Kurt, you play dirty," Noah said seriously, and Kurt shrugged.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time. I can't run for more than a mile straight, and that's when it's a mild running," he replied, and Blaine looked down at his watch.
"Well, I'm sorry to break this up, but we have to get back to the house before Quinn wakes up and murders us for being out so late," Blaine said, frowning at his wrist watch. Kurt just rolled his eyes.
"Quinn probably had way too much fun with Rachel tonight to even bother checking the rooms, none the less the beach for us," Kurt said with a smirk, and Blaine shook his head.
"I don't know how we managed to gather so many gay people who used to live in Ohio," Blaine mumbled, and Kurt shrugged.
"What'd you expect when you had me contact a bunch of my friends to come on the trip? I mean honestly, I go to NYADA. You'd imagine I'd bring at least half a bus full of rainbows and sunshine." Kurt pointed out, and Blaine just threw his hands up in the air.
"New Yorkers man," was all he said, shaking his head. He looked over at the remaining people from the party, and sighed.
"Kurt, go gather everyone up. You're tall, they'll listen to you," Blaine said, and Kurt just rolled his eyes before turning to Puck.
"See you tomorrow?" He said hopefully, and Noah just grinned.
"Yeah. Tomorrow," Noah replied, and Kurt beamed before placing a chaste kiss on Noah's cheek. Walking away, he started yelling at several people to 'stop ignoring the hobbit and get back to the house'. Blaine just shook his head, before looking at Noah.
"You know, tonight's the happiest I've seen him in a while," Blaine said, and eyed Noah before continuing. "He's my best friend, and I'd do anything for him just to see him happy."
Noah nodded, before actually giving Blaine a run over. Short, but built nicely if he had to admit it. A bit of a preppy dresser, but it seemed to be his regular style, judging from the way he gelled his hair (which Puck had thought was a bit interesting, kinda given where they were and all). Eurasian features, which made for a pretty attractive face. Or at least on Blaine it did, Puck thought to himself as he continued to survey him. Strong jaw, with a fresh, clean shaven look going on. Lips that weren't thin, but not big and plump either. Cheekbones that slightly jutted out, but just barely. An alright nose.
It was when he got to his eyes, his hazel green eyes (which were famed by a killer set of eyelashes ; Jesus, Puck doesn't even think he's seen a girl with that big of a set of lashes), that he realized he was telling the truth. He would do anything for Kurt. And that's when Noah understood why Blaine seemed to be sizing him up at that moment; He was, quite possibly, in love with Kurt, and either hadn't addressed this yet, or had been friend zoned to the extreme.
Running a hand over his shaved head, he saw that Blaine knew he had come to the realization that Kurt probably hadn't yet.
"You're smart," He commented, before clearing his throat. "Just don't hurt him. I know how to throw a punch, and his father hunts for a hobby."
Noah could only nod awkwardly, not quite sure how to react to this. Luckily, Kurt came back, his cheeks a bit flushed from running around in the cool night air.
"Well, I got everyone but Brittany. But she's from here like me, and Quinn won't pay much mind to her being missing, as we all know from that time she spent a summer lost in the sewers," He breathed out, and Blaine could only snort.
"Her girlfriend had to send a search and rescue team, right?" Blaine asked, and Kurt shrugged it off. He just laughed, before grinning.
"Alright, great. At least now Quinn won't rip us a new one," he said triumphantly, before a sudden buzzing noise came from his right pocket. Fishing out a pager, he mumbled a soft 'shit'.
"Right. Kurt, come on, Quinn is on the rampage. Finn managed to somehow drop one of her mother's vases, and she's not too happy. Rachel's doing damage control, but... You know how Quinn gets," Blaine said, and Kurt sighed.
"I told them to keep Finn away from anything sharp, breakable, or that would lead to him crying out in pain or causing enough noise to wake up Quinn," Kurt said with a tired tone, and Blaine just rolled his eyes.
"I swear, we should just lock him in his room until we start constructing the house and make him our mule," Blaine grunted under his breath, and Kurt could only grimace.
"I proposed we do that, but Rachel said we needed to be nice. I think she'll be all for it now, however," He added, before turning to Noah.
"Good night," he said with a smile, and Noah grinned slightly.
"G'night."
The two best friends walked away, and Noah watched as they slowly got farther and farther away from him. With a shake of his head and a smile on his face, he turned to get his board and start the long walk home.
Humming to himself, he was almost to his board when he heard a small shout, and turned just in time to see Kurt running at him full speed. Catching him as the younger boy practically jumped on him, he felt soft, cherry flavored lips on his own. The kiss was short, but it left both of them breathless.
"You taste like the ocean," Kurt noted with a shaky laugh, and Noah smiled.
"You taste like cherries," he replied, and Kurt just grinned before kissing him again.
"Good night Noah," he said before running back to Blaine, who was looking at them with a small, strained smile on his face. But, Noah couldn't even feel sorry for the guy at that point; he was too busy thinking how it would be incredible to have those lips on his own for a hell of a lot more than just three seconds.
"G'night," he said softly, grinning from ear to ear as he made his way back home.
This started off as a one shot, but as Lizzy would know (this is kinda like her Christmas gift; blame her on all the stories I have ok it's all her fault [actually no I'm joking don't shes like the best person ever]). I couldn't even imagine trying to condense it all into one single one-shot, because I mean. A one shot usually doesn't go past like fifteen, twenty pages on Word Doc. Whoops. This is a Dear John AU with Puckurt as the main ship, but... Well, those of you who have read the book / seen the movie will know what I'm talking about. It will digress quite a bit from the main events in Dear John, but it will have the overarching plot to it. And um. Hope you guys like it, and reviews would be nice. Anyways I'm going to go hide myself while trying to update my other stories as fast as I can.
- Lori