Major fluff ahead. Ye be warned.
I wanted to write about Puck 'coming out', wrote the Finn part, and it developed from there. I didn't expect it to be anywhere near this long, but there you go. Also, Quinn's kind of a good guy in this, which, after last week's Glee, is totally not how I wanted to write her, but I like Puck to have a female friend and no one else offered the closure Quinn did, so, y'know, go with it.
It's hopefully clear, but the back-story begins when Puck gets out of juvie. I've tried to keep it as near to canon as possible (any excuse to re-watch some glee…), with the obvious exceptions that Puck is gay (not bi, though I do think that is plausible in canon)/Kurt and Blaine are not together. The timings are a bit off, too – in canon, Puck got out of Juvie at the beginning of November, here it's more like mid/early October. Ok? On with the show…
Warnings – lots of language, a relatively graphic blowjob, the usual ;)
Reviews – very welcome, as are requests
Disclaimer - I don't own glee, nor the song 'Something'.
"It's been two months, Noah." Blaine muttered from his position in my lap. After breaking him out of prep school for the weekend, I'd driven us to the forest for some quality time, but this whole accept yourself speech was totally ruining my mojo. "We've been dating for two months, and not a soul knows you're gay yet. You said to me, you promised, that after 6 weeks we could start being a bit more coupley, you know?"
I did remember. I remembered how I'd held him, and kissed him, and promised that in 6 weeks, I'd be ready to get over myself and tell every living soul that the hot piece of ass in front of me was mine. Actually doing it, however, was a whole other kettle of fish.
I fiddled with his hair, pulling at the locks gently and watching them spring back into shape when I released them. It wasn't often Blaine went without his gel, and seeing him in normal clothes (even if those normal clothes involved a bleedin' bowtie) was hot. The kind of hot that could make me a bit more willing to bend. "It's bad that I've come to enjoy the sneakiness, isn't it?"
"Yes." Blaine grinned, rising to his elbows. "I promise, I'll make it worth your while." I raised a brow as he wiggled his, biting his lip.
"Are you bribing me with sexual favours?" He laughed and nodded, joking about how he clearly needed to be more obvious if I had to ask. "Who do I need to tell?"
"Just the New Directions." I raised a brow. "Including Kurt. You knew him before I did, he deserves to hear it from you. I'm going to tell a select few of the Warblers, if that's okay."
"It's fine by me." I nodded. "Santana will see it as a challenge, you know?"
"Santana can see it however she likes." Blaine sat up, his lips hovering centimetres from my own. Fucking tease. "You're mine, and nothing she can do will change that." I closed the gap between us, removing his pink sunglasses and carding a hand through his curly mane. Seriously, why the boy ever wore gel was a mystery to me. His curls are beyond hot. I gave them a cheeky tug, not-at-all taking advantage of his open mouth when he moaned. Eventually he pulled away, and I was left smirking at his set jaw. "Mine."
"You're hot when you're all possessive and shit."
"And you're annoying when you won't go and do as I say." Blaine sighed. "Puck, I love you, and I'm not going to make empty threats about how I'll get mad and leave you if you don't tell your friends, but regionals is less than two weeks away, and after they've announced the winner, I want to be able to go over and comfort you in front of our friends in the only way I know how. I knew what I was getting into when I started dating you, I knew you were closeted, and I don't mind if the world doesn't know about us, but I want to share what we have with our friends."
"You're lucky I'm a sucker for a sob story, you know?" If it had been anyone else, I'd have told them to go screw themselves. Wasting valuable weekend time chasing up a load of people to tell them personal shit? No chance. But it was Blaine, and he was there looking all hopeful and shit. I pushed his head off my lap, climbing up and offering him a hand. "Give me two hours."
"Two hours?" I pulled him up, slinging an arm across his shoulders as we headed to my truck. "You work fast."
"How hard can it be? Guys, I fuck men now. If you'll excuse me, I have to go service my hot boyfriend."
"Have fun with that approach." Blaine laughed. I walked him round to his side, opening his car door like the fucking gentleman I am. Before sliding in, Blaine grabbed the collar of my jacket, pulling me in close. "And can you please try and make it sound like we do more than just fuck?" I looked around, checking the car park was deserted, and gave him a cheeky peck on the lips.
"I'm not making any promises." I grinned, pushing him into the truck and jogging round the bonnet. So, all I had to do was tell the glee club I fucked guys. Simple, right?
Turns out, telling Finn wasn't as straightforward as I'd hoped. After dropping Blaine off at his and arriving at the Hummel-Hudson household, Finn had been all it's so cool that we're friends again and lets play videogames like old times and I couldn't get the stupid fucking word 'gay' to come out of my mouth, so I went along with it, playing Halo for two hours before I decided enough was enough.
Finn's single bed had never really been wide enough for two people, and that was never more obvious than when the two of us sat, shoulder to shoulder, at the end of it playing Halo. I'd once asked Rachel how the two of them had fit, but her flustered answer of 'just fine, Noah' didn't really tell me anything. Couldn't blame her for being flustered, Finn would've crushed her if he rolled in the night.
Finn deserved to know about my new relationship first. He'd stuck by me for ten years, he put up with all of my shit, and, Goddamn it, he has been my best friend through thick and thin. But I'd be damned if I didn't remember how he'd reacted to Kurt's sexuality, and I really didn't want a repeat.
We'd finally fallen back into friendship after a year of being a douche (on my part) and being an unforgiving bitch (Finn). Even if he was okay with my sexuality – and, let's face it, Finn doesn't exactly like change – things would be awkward. Again.
"Hey, Hudson?" I started, as we reached a new battalion. I figured it needed to be a sharp reveal, like ripping off a band-aid. "I'm gay, and fucking Blaine Anderson." Finn laughed, totally not what I needed, then went deathly quiet when I didn't join in. His hands around the controller went limp, and I could feel him gawping at me, when he should have been focussing on the game, because the enemy were fast approaching and, no matter how awesome I was at this game, I couldn't finish two-player mode alone. "Dude, get involved. I can't take down this whole level by myself." I flicked the game onto pause, turning to him in time to deflect an angry shove. "What the fuck?"
"You're serious!" Finn was angry. Furious, even. He yelled about how gay wasn't an option and how Kurt deserved Blaine and have you been staring at me in the showers until my tether snapped.
"Are you fucking done?" I was in his face before I had time to think. "You're my brother, Finn. We are family, and I'm never gonna stare at your junk in the shower, because Dude, that's sick stalker behaviour. Hummel's gotta learn that there are other gays in Ohio, ones far better for him than Blaine. And who the fuck do you think you are to tell me my options?"
"You got my girlfriend pregnant!" He shouted back at me. Both of us recoiled a little, and though just thinking of Beth hurt on so many levels, I swallowed it down and nodded, because fuck it, it was the truth. Finn calmed a little, before continuing. "A year ago you got my girlfriend pregnant, and now you're telling me you're not even into women. How was that possible?"
"Gay doesn't mean my stuff doesn't work, Finn." I replied.
"Yeah, no, I suppose…" Finn rubbed his face rigorously, before taking a deep breath. "Blaine Anderson, he's your type, then? How did you two even meet?"
I had already taken off my shirt when Blaine began walking towards me. During post-coital bliss with the cougar at no.24, she'd mentioned that she was on the board of a local private school, with a large outdoor pool that needed servicing. It would be a regular job that paid well, and, post-juvie, money was tight. Though it lacked the extra incentives that private pools provided, I couldn't say no. I found myself at the Dalton Academy two days later, sweltering in the low midday heat.
Across the field, a group of the prissy private school boys stood in a huddle, glaring over at me occasionally. They were all wearing their stupid uniforms perfectly, with their ties perfectly fixed and blazers slung over their long sleeved shirts. Blaine's approach, whilst his friends remained at a distance, intrigued me, but not enough to make me stop cleaning the pool.
"Hi." His voice was both annoyed and calm, grating on me a little. "I'm Blaine Anderson, one of the Warblers." He offered his hand to shake, and, I'll be honest, I glared at it for a second through my shades before reaching forward and giving him a brisk handshake.
"I'm Puck, one of the pool cleaners." It had been snarky, I'll admit.
"And one of the New Directions." I paused for a second, before resuming sweeping the algae off the pool surface. "We recognised you from a video of your regionals performance last year. I know what you're doing here, why you've taken on this job, and I – we – would appreciate it if you stopped." This time I more than paused, pulling the net out of the water, pushing my sunglasses onto my forehead and giving Blaine the once over. Even in his stupid posh-boy uniform, the boy looked good.
"And what exactly am I 'doing here', Blaine Anderson."
"We are your competition for sectionals – you can drop the surprised act, it's not going to work – and you're here to spy." It was about a week later that Mr Schue told us who our competition for sectionals was, so it was fair to say my 'surprised act' wasn't an act at all. Nonetheless, I shrugged it off, knocking my glasses back onto my face and returning to cleaning the pool.
"You think I care enough about glee club to worm my way into getting a job in your school?"
"I think you care about your friends enough to want to do anything you can to help them win." I paused again, turning to face him fully this time.
"I don't know if you've noticed, Anderson, but I'm the pool boy, not the clean-the-choir-room boy, or the mop-the-corridors boy, or even the wipe-the-windows boy. This job pays well and is pretty easy, and I'm not going to do anything that might make me lose it. I have no intention of getting any nearer to your Hogwarts school than I have to, so unless you plan on practicing your little uniformed numbers right next to the pool, I really don't think we're going to have any problems. Capisce?"
"It sounds like we're on the same page." Blaine smiled. He waved away his little group of friends, all of them returning to their castle to practice their spells and potions, but he stayed. I turned to him after a few minutes, raising an eyebrow. "You know, you were really good at regionals last year. You're going to be here pretty regularly, I'd love to jam with you sometime."
I remember glaring at him for a second, but that stupid smile, the one that can convince me of almost anything nowadays, piqued my interest, and soon enough I was smirking back. "I'm back in three days, 5pm. Bring a guitar."
Telling Finn everything seemed excessive, so I settled for the basics. "Through pool cleaning. I met him a little before we found out they'd be our competition for sectionals."
Finn whistled, falling back onto the bed. "That was four months ago, dude."
"We've only been dating for two." Finn nodded, and he looked uncomfortable, but not freakishly so. In all fairness, I'd just dropped a pretty major bomb on him, so I figured it was time to get off. "I know this is really weird, but he's a good guy, and he makes me want to be less of a douche, so if you could try and work through your issues, that'd be great. You're the first person I've told, dude, because you're my friend and I want you to be okay with this. Can you keep it quiet for a bit? There's a couple of people who need to hear this from me, not through the grapevine." Finn nodded, brow still furrowed.
"I suppose the plus side of this is that there's no chance of you stealing Quinn away from me again." Finn laughed, really freakin' awkwardly. "Keep it quiet, but Quinn and I have been getting together for a while. Since before she broke it off with Sam." Quinn had already told me, but, what the hell, I'd let Finn have this one.
"Sounds like a totally normal and healthy relationship." I stood up, clapping a hand on Finn's shoulder. "This has been great, Finn, but I've got to get word 'round about this whole thing… Is Kurt in?"
"Yeah man, I think he's in his room." Finn stood, and there was a moment where I wasn't sure whether he was going to hug me, tackle me or try and kiss me. He settled for punching my shoulder in a weird, 'hey, you're alright' kind of way, and grinned. "I'm happy for you, man."
"Yeah, well, let's not get all mushy about it. See you in Chem tomorrow." I didn't wait for an answer, instead heading towards Kurt's room.
I could hear Lady Gaga before I even turned the corner, and Kurt was singing along to Born This Way, so there was no denying he was in. I knocked on Kurt's door briskly. Even his door screamed 'Kurt Hummel lives here', painted a shiny black with a posh looking handle. The music cut out quickly, as did the singing. "Who's there?"
"Noah Puckerman." Full name seemed appropriate. This felt like a fucking job interview. Hi, I'm Noah Puckerman and I'm here to audition for the role of your best friend's boyfriend.
There was a long pause before he invited me in. I ran my hands down my thighs quickly, trying to look a bit less shit up than I felt. This shouldn't be so hard. You handled Finn fine, douche, man up. I gripped the stupid posh handle and entered.
His room was so different to Finn's. It was hard to believe the two spaces existed under the same roof. I quirked an eyebrow at the silk throw covering the bed, before lowering to perch on it anxiously. Kurt looked as unnerved as I felt, but smiled primly at me from where he sat at the stool near his dressing table, spinning to face me nervously.
"So, Noah." He rocked back slightly, looking more than a little tense. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Sorry I was a douche to you last year, dude." Straight to the point, no reason to make this more uncomfortable than it already was. "It wasn't to do with your sexuality at all, it was all about your personality, but I know now that not agreeing with someone doesn't make fucking with their lives okay."
"Thank you for what I think was an attempt at a sincere apology." Kurt nodded, sitting on his hands anxiously. "Is that all, or –"
"There's something else." I interrupted him. Somehow, telling Hummel was so much harder than Finn. I knew what to expect from Finn. Kurt was a wildcard, and heaven knows what weaponry he had hidden away under the sweeping fabrics on the walls. "I used to work as a pool-boy at your posh-boy school, and, while I was working there, I became friends with one of the guys."
"You worked at Dalton?" Kurt frowned. "When?"
"I stopped around the time you transferred." I replied. "But that's not what is important, okay? Look, I made friends with this guy, this great guy. And then we stopped being friends and started being something more." I wish I'd taken a photo of Kurt's face. His mouth was gaping like a fish, and I've never seen anyone's eyes go that wide before.
"Oh, Madonna… Blaine?" I nodded. "You're the closeted person he's been seeing?" I nodded again, feeling like one of those stupid bobble-head dogs. "And you are positive this is what you want?"
"I wouldn't be here, telling you I was gay, if I wasn't." I confirmed.
"You spent the best part of two years ripping my confidence to shreds, Puck. Don't blame me if I'm a bit cynical about your change of heart." He may be a prissy bitch, but he wasn't lying, and I had no response to it. He sighed, glaring at me slightly. "If it turns out you're using him as a plaything, so help me, Noah, they will never find your body."
"I know." Kurt looked down at his lap, before staring at me again, curiosity written all over his face. "What?"
"Blaine once told me that I had a Fairy Godmother." Kurt started, pausing for a moment. "Someone who orchestrated my transfer to Dalton without ever even giving me a sign he wanted to help."
"So?"
"So, you were the one who chased me off to spy on the Warblers, and you already knew Blaine." Kurt stated, and I shrugged. "I didn't expect my Fairy Godmother to be in a tutu, but a Mohawk? Really?"
I'd returned to Dalton twice before Mr Schue told us that the Warblers were our Sectionals competition. Both visits occurred much later in the day than the first had, due to both my schedule and the unexpected Fall heatwave. Blaine sat on the bench whilst I cleaned the pool, playing his guitar as we both sang, unless he started playing his Katy Perry numbers, then it was just his vocals. His uniform was less well presented than the first time, and during the third visit his helmet of gel had been replaced with wet, bouncy hair. When I'd finished cleaning the pool, we'd sit there for a little longer, talking and playing the guitar and singing. We never discussed Blaine's sexuality – he might not have been Kurt, but his preference was obvious enough – but, by the second visit, it was obvious to me that this wasn't shaping up like a bromance.
We switched numbers after the first visit, and after the second, he invited me up to the fucking huge-ass castle Dalton called a school. "I'm much more comfortable on a piano than with a guitar."
I had to turn him down, and it sucked. "They'd fire me if I went in the school. Part of my contract, so they didn't have to get a certificate of good conduct."
"I never had you pegged as a rule abiding citizen." He replied, his eyes narrowed to an amused squint.
"Normally, I'm not." I confirmed, beginning to retune the guitar out of habit. "But, I like this job. It has its perks." I smirked at him, and he looked away, smiling to himself.
"Okay… Okay." He stated, running a hand through the bouncy mane he called hair. "You know, you're not the kind of person I normally hang out with."
"I've never exactly had a prep-school friend either, Anderson. Don't worry, I'm as out of my depth as you are."
"Good to know." Blaine smiled, and I found myself smirking too. That boy's happiness is infectious. "Look, I have to ask… How do they treat people who are different at your school? I have such bad memories of public school, but financially, Dalton's not going to be an option forever."
"Slushies to the face, mostly." I admitted. "Occasionally dumpster diving, but that doesn't happen all that often anymore." Mostly because I don't do it, but he didn't need to know that.
"Are you the slushier, or the slushied?"
"Former slushier, now slushied. Glee is loserville at McKinley. But we're in it all together, for the most part." I said without thinking, then remembered Kurt. Shit. "There's one kid, he gets it more than the rest of us. He doesn't hide who he is."
"Good for him." Blaine replied, and I couldn't help but wonder how he'd ended up at Dalton. A few days later, after Kurt had taken shit from kids again, I suggested (in the crudest possible way) that he go visit Dalton. I saw the cogs in his brain rolling, and whipped out my phone, blocking out Finn's voice as I texted Blaine.
sent anotha ND ur way. This 1 is spy. Go easy on him, he needs a friend. P x
Honestly, Puck, texting is no excuse for bad spelling. Any particular reason I should befriend the enemy? B x
hes gay. Bullied McKinley. Dude, b nice x
'Dude', I'm nice to everyone. Only rode you hard the first time because you looked like you could take it. ;) Will make sure I find your friend before anyone else does. Don't worry; I'll look after him. x
Two days later, back at Dalton, Blaine lay on the bench as I cleaned the pool filters, raving about Kurt. "It's just so rare that you meet another gay teen in Lima, you know? I really think I can help him. He's older than me, but I've been through the bullying and anger and hate already, and I'm out the other side, a better person. He's such a pure guy, I don't know how anyone would treat him like scum."
"Well they can, okay?" I bit back, more than a little defensive. "The world's not black and white, Blaine. Whoever's messing with Kurt probably has their own fucked up life story." Blaine propped himself on his elbows, looking at me with curiosity. "What?"
"Will you look out for him?" His eyes started doing the funny googly thing, when he looks at you like you're his only hope, and I sighed. "For me?" I tossed the filter aside, sitting beside Blaine's head and glancing down at him. He shuffled up, 'til his head was resting against the side of my thigh.
"I give him a lot of stick, but Kurt's one of my boys now." We'd been in New Directions for a year, my beef with the guy was long gone, and I really did care that the bullying stopped. "Physically, my hands are pretty tied, but I can try." Blaine nodded, and we sat in silence for a while, Blaine looking up at me while I watched the sun set.
"Hey Puck?" I looked down, and he was studying me like I was some sort of exotic animal. "Why are your hands tied?"
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies. I've done some shit, okay? I'm not proud of it, but you're like a fresh start. You can know all of the bullshit I've done in the past after you know how awesome I am."
"I know how awesome you are already." Blaine laughed, and I laughed too, but still didn't elaborate. That evening was the one where I turned into the most freakin' romantic guy in the world, getting my accordion from my car and serenading the posh bastard with 'Bella Notte'. Didn't even have any ulterior motives or any of that shit. I'm so fucking smooth it hurts sometimes.
When Kurt started taking even more shit from Karofsky, I considered intervening – watching Sam try and take down a guy as 'roided up as Karofsky was as funny as it was terrifying – and even tried to offer Burt the $400 I'd saved from Pool Cleaning to help get Kurt to Dalton. He was way too nice a guy to take money from a teen, but he and Carole got the money together on their own, fuck knows how, and a month and a half later Kurt arrived at Dalton.
A lot can happen in 1.5 months, let me tell you.
"Fairy Godmother's a bit excessive." I replied. "I told you before you left, I've got your back, dude. I figured being friends with Blaine would help, so I got you to meet Blaine. After that, it was all you, man."
"He's happy." It took me a moment to cotton on to the fact he meant Blaine, but I nodded anyway. "Really, genuinely happy, and if you're the reason behind that, I won't begrudge him for it. Just… be the good guy, for once, Noah, and I'm sure you two will be happy as two pigs in muck."
"Thanks, Hummel." "Look, about you… and Blaine…"
"I can't deny that Blaine is an attractive man, and I did make advances at him once, but he has made it very clear that he was attached, and that was that." Kurt stated, and I let out a long breath. "I'm moving on. I daresay I've already met someone else, in a record store, and the future is looking very bright."
"Good for you, Dude." I clapped him on the shoulder, standing up. "I've got to go tell the rest of the glee club… I'll see you round, Hummel."
"Goodbye, Noah."
I had barely made it out of the Hudson-Hummel residence when my phone started buzzing. A glance at the caller ID told me all I needed to know. "Hey babe."
"Two hours in." He sounded smug, and I winced. Who knew coming out took so freakin' long? "How's it going?"
"Two down, ten billion to go." I confessed. "You've told everyone on your end already, I suppose?"
"It wasn't exactly a shock to any of them that I'm dating the hot pool cleaner who I mooned over for two months." Blaine laughed. "Who have you told, then?"
"Just the Hudmel twins." I heard a beep on the end of the phone, and Blaine swore quietly. I've had some influence on him, after all…
"Speak of the devil, Kurt's ringing me." Blaine continued. "I should really take this, he'll be annoyed at me about the whole 'Puck is gay' thing anyway, wouldn't want to provoke any more anger."
"I'm off to find Quinn anyway." I replied, whipping my keys out of my pocket. "Love you. Lets fuck later?"
"Love you too, Puck." Blaine laughed down the phone, hanging up immediately. He can pretend all he likes, but he knows he loves a booty-call from the Puckster.
Quinn was one of the first friends I made in high school. I knew Finn from Middle School, and some of the sports guys from football camp, but aside from that, on my first day at McKinley, the halls were awash with thousands of unfamiliar faces. I sat next to Quinn in Math, since Finn had somehow wormed his way into the upper set. She had a gap between her front two teeth and a spark in her eye that just spelled trouble.
Four weeks into school, I discovered she loved Clarissa Explains It All, and made it my mission to be the Sam to her Clarissa.
Climbing into the Fabray house through Quinn's window had stopped pretty quickly after Quinn turned 15 and I shaved my hair into a Mohawk, but for a year and a half, we lived the dream. I'd climb through her window a couple of times a week, and we'd share stories, eat junk food and play videogames.
Grinning up at the whitewash walls now, I knew there was only one way I was getting into that house. Scaling the back wall, muscle memory got me to the window in record time. I slid the window up, smirking as Quinn jumped up from the bed. "Relax, Fabray, it's just me."
"Puck, what are you even doing here?" She was stood, hand on hip, completely flustered. "My mom won't let you stay in the house."
"What's the worst that could happen?" I smirked. Quinn smiled, relaxing a little. I sat on the edge of open window, straddling the frame with a smirk.
"Finn could come over and beat you up."
"Quinn, please." I scoffed. "Besides, Finn has nothing to worry about." I stated, motioning to the bed. She took the hint, sitting down. "I'm here because I'm in love." Watching her sputter was fun, but I'm pretty sure Blaine would kill me if he heard how that came out. Shit. "Not with you, I swear. I mean, I love you, Q, but in the same way I love Finn, not the way you love Finn. I'm in love, and once upon a time, you were one of my closest friends, and fifteen year old me would have wanted you to know."
"She must be something very special." Quinn smiled softly.
"He is perfect." She blinked twice, but that was it. No screaming, no crying, just a little nod as she lowered herself to a seated position on the bed.
"I feel like I should be surprised." She laughed, a little stiltedly. "Do you remember, when we were 14, and the newest edition of MarioKart had just come out? You came here, with a backpack full of cola and sweets, clinging to a copy of that game at five in the morning. It was raining, and you were soaked to the bone, but you didn't care about anything but that stupid game and playing it with me, and I thought, wow, this is the kind of guy I want to be friends with when I'm old and boring and married to the practical man with the sensible job and the beautiful soul who I love with all my heart. I said to myself, this is the guy I want to be uncle to my children." She was tearing up a little, and if it was anyone else I'd have called them out for it, but it was taking all my energy not to get a little misty myself. "I thought I – we – had messed that up. This past year, I've missed you, and it's going to sound so selfish, but I'm so glad you're gay, because my life, the one where I go back to you and have another baby who's as perfect as Beth, that can't happen now, and that's good, it's healthy." Now she was crying, and laughing, and I was so completely out of my depth. "You were never going to be my prince, Puck. You better be dating the hottest guy in the world, though, because you deserve greatness."
"He's pretty fucking awesome, if I do say so myself." Q nodded. "You've met him. Blaine, from the Warblers."
"Wow." Quinn made a face, I have no idea what it meant, but she returned to normal pretty quickly. "So you like your guys in bow ties and blazers, huh?"
"I like him far more out of them." I winked, climbing up to a standing position. "He's special, Quinn. He makes me a better man." I planted a kiss on Quinn's forehead, and hugged her for a moment. I'd spent so many years thinking Q was the one, the kiss and hug felt like a final goodbye to my heterosexual dream life. It should have scared me one hell of a lot more than it did. "I'll let myself out. See you later, Q."
With the tough trio out of the way, it was practically fucking plain sailing. Next in the list of people to tell had to be my previous No.1 booty call. Santana had been practically living at Brittany's, and since Britt lived a few doors down from Q, going there first made sense. Not to mention, Brittany would be one hell of a lot more understanding than Santana, even if it meant I had to spend 20 minutes listening to her talk about sharks and dolphins and unicorns.
I could see three people on Britt's front porch from Quinn's drive, and there was no mistaking who it was. Santana was so fucking loud sometimes, Brittany was dancing across the porch and Artie's wheelchair made him stick out like a sore thumb. It wasn't exactly hot out, and the sun had almost set, but the three of them were in their swimwear, surrounding a paddling pool Brittany had rigged on the deck. Judging by the pissed off glare on Santana's face and the fact Artie was shivering, it was probably Brittany that had thought it was a pool day, and the two of them're so whipped, they went along with it. Suckers. "Artie look, Puck's here!"
"Hey, Puck." Artie grinned at me, toasting me with his Shirley Temple. "Lovely weather!"
"Sure, Prof X." I smiled. The kid was alright. I glanced at my watch, knowing I needed to keep this chat short'n'sweet. "Public Service Announcement. I'm sorry to announce that the Puck-meister is officially off the market. Ladies, please, try not to mourn too loudly, you'll disturb the passers-by."
"Found another pretty little blonde to impregnate, Puckerman? You'll be crawling back within the week." Santana scoffed, before pausing and glaring at me over her sunglasses. "Wait, is this why you didn't put out last week? You told me you had crabs, jerk-wad!"
"I had lobster once." Brittany stated. Crazy chick. "It tasted like chicken."
"It's why I haven't been putting out since juvie." I answered Santana. "I've met someone, and they're really what I'm looking for, so I'm not going to fuck it up by fucking you."
"Oh snap, Puckerman, you did not just gender neutralise this conversation." Santana stood, taking her glasses off entirely and stalking towards me. "Guy on guy? Me gusta. Don't suppose there's space in that big ol' bed of yours for one more?"
"What? No!" I huffed, glaring her down as she approached, muttering to herself.
"Hey," Brittany interrupted before San and I could get going in our yelling. "Is this why you licked Blaine Warbler's face?"
"What?" It wasn't just me this time; Artie and Santana were both gaping, looking between Brittany and I. "What did you see, Britt?" Santana asked.
"In November, I was searching for scoop for Sue, so I followed Puck to the mall." Brittany stated. I have to admit, I was impressed, not much escapes the Puckmeister. "I have super ninja skills. He was there with Blaine Warbler, and he licked his face. He didn't buy any weapons, start any major international incidents or steal any children, though, so I had no scoop for Sue."
"You are not leaving me high and dry for a prep-school nobody, Puckerman." Santana growled, and I bared my teeth with a rumble back.
"Does this mean he's a unicorn like Kurt? But he slept with you and me, too, so what does that make him? An ostrich?"
"November was 3 months ago." Artie asked. "You've been seeing this guy for 3 months?" Finally, a question I could freakin' answer.
"No, we were just friends when Brittany saw us."
Christmas was a month away, but Blaine was going on about getting presents early, and I needed to go to the mall and get some new vests, so I offered him a lift, which is how we ended up in Starbucks, having a drink which felt suspiciously like a coffee date.
"You've got cake, like, everywhere." I've never seen someone eat a slice of cake as messily as Blaine can. The guy's all prep-school and neat and shit until you give him a big ol' hunk of carrot cake. "Seriously, fucking everywhere. How did you even manage that?" There was icing on his long, hot, girly eyelashes. Messy bastard. "Go clean yourself up before I lick the cake off your face."
"Empty threats, Puckerman." No one calls my bluff. No one. He squealed (yeah, squealed. Real macho, Anderson) as I dived forward, licking a thick stripe up his entire left cheek.
"Now you really need to go clean up." I repeated, smirking. "You have no idea where I've been." Blaine looked beyond shocked, but within seconds grinned, grabbing a wad of tissues and wiping at his face.
"We need to work on your puppy training, you overgrown Labrador." He chucked the wad of tissues at me, before licking some icing off his lips in a way that was so totally innocent yet so not okay for my sexuality.
"Friends who lick each other?"
"Way off point, dude." I replied to Artie. Santana was still glowering, so I glowered right back. "He's my boyfriend now, and not the kind of boyfriend I'm interested in sharing, so get over it."
"Not even a quickie for the road?" Santana sauntered over to me with a wink and a smile.
"Not even a cheeky fondle." I reiterated, throwing her over my shoulder and placing her down in the paddling pool. Girl was in desperate need of a cold dip. She squealed, splashing water at me and glaring.
"You give the slightest hint that this is just a phase, Puckerman, and I will be all over you like a rash." Santana announced. I wouldn't expect any less of her. "An unbelievably sexy rash with a very dextrous tongue."
I ignored her, turning to Artie and Britt. "So, we cool?"
"Whatever you want to do in your spare time is cool with me, Puck." Artie shrugged. "You've seemed a little less destructive recently, too, and if Blaine has had anything to do with that, he can only be good."
"Cheers man." I nodded, punching his shoulder lightly. "Britt?"
"Your hair looks like a strip of Velcro. What if Blaine's curly hair gets stuck in there? Disaster!" Brittany answered. "If you can find away around that, I'm okay with it. You're cute, he's cute; the babies will be uber-hot."
"Thanks." Someone needs to explain the basics of reproduction to that girl. Like, seriously, she is a walking time bomb. I'll leave that to the whipped twins, though.
I made it halfway to my car when Zises pulled up next to me, curb crawling alongside me. "Hey, Puckerman." She smirked, leaning out of her rolled-down window. "Word on the Glee circuit is that you fuck dudes now." Sweet Baby Jesus news travels fast through the Glee club. Tell one gossipy-closeted-cheerleader something, and you may as well have told the world. "Not sure how long I can keep it Glee only without a bit of persuading, though…"
"You know what, then?" Fuck it. Fuck this. "Tell everyone. Go yell it from the top of McKinley, for all I care. I'm not about to put up with your shit. I like boys, I like Blaine, and I really don't give a shit who knows it." Totally not what Blaine wanted out of today, but fuck it. He's already out of the closet, I doubt he'll mind if I join him in a shower of sequins and every other stinkin' stereotype there is.
"You really are into this guy, huh?" Zises smirked. "Well, that explains why you turned down seven minutes in heaven with this hot piece of ass."
It was embarrassing. Approaching Karofsky and Asimio and trying to get them to join glee was one of the stupidest things I've ever done, and really, locking me in a port-a-potty was far from the worst thing the two of them could have done to me.
Spending that long in a port-a-potty really messes with a guy's mind. I tried everything to get out, praying to all the Gods I could remember, the KFC guy and even Lord Tubbington (because you never know when Brittany's listening in).
Night came and went, but first thing in the morning, I heard activity. I banged on the door and yelled again, and could have cried when I heard the bar being removed from the door. When Zises opened the top of my cell, I could have kissed her. Unfortunately, it turns out that is literally just a turn of phrase. She held me down, smirking at me.
"Seven minutes in heaven, with me, and I'll bust you out of here, Puckerman."
"What? No!"
"Sucks to be you, then." She threw me downwards, slamming the door before I had time to react.
"Lauren wa-" I tried to push against the closing door, but she had the momentum, and the door slammed shut. I heard the bar slide back into place, and sighed.
"Think on it, Puckerman." She banged on the door twice, and I could hear her fucking smirking. "I'll be back in 12 hours. Hopefully you will come to your senses by then."
When the port-a-potty rattled a few hours later, I was fully prepared to make out with Lauren til the cows came home. Throwing myself out in the hopes of a daring escape would have been futile – I'm a growing boy, I can't function without food – and I don't hit girls, so I stayed sitting, eventually looking up with (what I hoped were) sad, puppy eyes.
But I wasn't looking at Lauren. I was looking at a boy in a prissy blazer, with overgelled hair and a slightly wonky smile, who was (and still is) the hottest thing ever. "Are you an angel?"
"Not quite." Blaine reached down, grabbing both my wrists and pulling me up to standing position, giving me a once over. "Are you okay?"
I shrugged off his question, answering with two of my own. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"
"You never turned up for work yesterday." Blaine shrugged, helping me out of the cubicle. "The Dalton staff figured it was your very unprofessional way of quitting, but I wasn't too sure, and you weren't answering your phone. We had a half day for teacher training today, and Kurt said he was coming to visit Mercedes, so I caught a lift with him. I overheard the glee kids saying they hadn't seen you, figured I'd do some searching of my own, and here we are."
"Here we are." I repeated, smiling like a stupid douche. "Got any gum, Anderson?" He dug round in his pockets for a minute or two, but soon emerged with a stick. I chewed it pretty aggressively – my mouth tasted like a fucking sewer rat – as he talked.
"Are you okay? How long have you been in there?"
"Long enough." I replied, spitting the gum onto the pavement.
"That's not a great habit, you kn-" Anderson never got to finish, as I wrapped my hands around his face and dragged him in, kissing with my trademark enthusiasm.
If there was one thing those Goddamned 24 hours taught me, it was to seize the day. Fuck Karofsky, fuck Asimio, fuck Kurt, and especially, with gusto, fuck Blaine Anderson. Sexuality be damned. I walked us backwards until his back hit the outer wall of McKinley, groaning as he rolled us against the wall, leaving him crowding around me. After a minute, he pulled back, leaving us both panting heavily and smirking.
"You know, a simple 'thank you' would have sufficed."
"Somehow, I don't think 'thank you' would have said all I needed to say." I replied. I was fucking starving – a day without food will do that to a guy – and my stomach made itself heard a moment later. "There's a burger hut round the corner…"
"My treat." Blaine grinned.
I couldn't for the life of me remember the burger – there's this theory that, after a long period of not eating, the first thing you eat will taste fucking amazing, but I am pretty sure I unhinged my jaw and swallowed that bad boy whole – but the making out in the back of my jeep after I'd had a shower, and the weird-in-a-good-way date we'd had later that day totally made the whole experience worth it.
"I never really thanked you for that, Zises." I stated. "You being the world's biggest bitch made my life 100% better, so thanks."
"Just doing my national duty, Puckerman." Lauren smirked. "Though I will accept payment in the form of dirty pictures of you two, I could make a fortune on McKinley's black market." I hit the hood of her car twice, and she sped up, leaving me in the dust.
As she drove off, I whipped my phone out of my back pocket. It had been buzzing like a bitch while we were chatting, and sure enough, there was a shit-ton of missed calls and texts from the remaining Gleeks, except for Rachel. Girl was so out of the loop sometimes. Answering the individual texts would have taken too long, so I sent a group text and jumped in my truck.
Lima Bean. 20 minutes. I'm not sure if it was friendship, the promise of gossip, or a hearty dose of fear, but when I arrived, Sam, Mike, Tina and Mercedes were already there, sipping on their frothy hot girly drinks with a look of curiosity.
"So…" Sam started. He looked fucking terrified. I knew the other three had more than likely bullied him into being their little spokesperson, and it amused the shit out of me, especially since I'd known the rest of them longer. "There's an interesting rumour going round…" he was looking at me, practically begging me to help him out, but watching him squirm was way too fun. "… that you are dating Blaine Anderson." I sipped my coffee, neither confirming nor denying anything. The four stared expectantly at me, the anticipation killing them, before Mercedes finally broke the silence.
"Is this, like, the weirdest prank ever? Because I really don't see where you're going with this, Puck."
"Dude, I thought Kurt liked Blaine? Isn't this a little out of line?" Mike continued, frowning at me.
"This is so hot." Tina finished, and the other three glared at her. "What? It is."
"I fuck men now. Well, I fuck Blaine, and Blaine only. I'm officially a one-man man. You can either be happy for us or fuck off. As for Kurt, he already knows, and he is okay with it."
"If Kurt's fine with it, I'm fine with it." Mercedes stated, and I smirked at the girl. The others nodded, if a little apprehensively on Sam's part. I sipped my coffee, smirking to myself about how well it went when a hand clapped down on my shoulder, nearly pouring boiling coffee everywhere. I span to face the attacker, frowning when Coach Sylvester loomed over me.
"Well, if it isn't McKinley high's favourite backing singers." She greeted, smirking at us all. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, and wanted to offer my congratulations, Puckerman. You appear to have become so straight that you've come full circle into homosexuality."
"Uh… Thanks?"
"No problem, bear-gay. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and tell Will that he has once again filled the glee club's sexual diversity quota. Your change in sexuality will save him weeks of looking for a replacement gay in Porcelain's wake." She smirked, releasing my shoulder from her claw grip and stalking away. There was silence for a moment, before Tina restarted the conversation.
"So… "How did you ask him out?" Tina asked. She looked so overexcited, I can't remember the last time I saw her this enthused by anything I'd done.
"Did he sweep you off your feet?" Mercedes joined in. The two of them were making googly eyes at me, and a tiny part of my brain wondered why I'd never tried the 'I'm gay' card to pick up chicks in the past. It was clearly a babe-magnet.
"Was it super hot?" Tina continued.
"I serenaded him, like the smooth bastard I am." The pair of them visibly swooned, whilst Sam and Mike looked on with a mixture of curiosity and envy.
"What did you sing?"
"Something, by The Beatles."
My excuse of being locked in a Port-a-Potty totally didn't fly with Dalton, and sure enough, when I turned up for work that Friday, I found myself out of a job. It sucked for a while, but then I remembered, I didn't work for Dalton. I could enter Hogwarts without causing a shit-storm.
It was late in the day, but since the posh brats mostly boarded, the school was still pretty full. However, the good weather played to my favour, as most of the kids were sat on the front lawn. I entered through the side-door, not bumping into a single student as looked for the one room I knew Blaine would head for once he realised I wasn't out at the pool.
I'd not seen the Warbler since dropping him back at the school gates on Wednesday. We'd practically floated through the date, skipping between laughing together and making out. Not once did we mention what would happen once the day was over, once my euphoria at not being in a port-a-potty wore off, and his hero-complex had run its course. I knew how I felt, I knew that I wanted it to keep happening, but that didn't mean he did, and it was fucking terrifying.
After a few minutes of searching, I found the choir room. It was thankfully deserted, so I slipped in, looking around. Its facilities were above and beyond what McKinley offered, there were tonnes of instruments laid out around the room, and the walls were wood-panelled. Private school, huh?
I approached the grand piano, sitting at the stool and running my fingers over the keys. The New Directions always put me on guitar, I missed sitting at a piano. I messed around for a minute, before settling into the start of a song, playing the intro slowly and purposefully.
"Something in the way he moves, attracts me like no other lover..." I started, singing along under my breath, changing the lyrics as and when I pleased. Around the second verse, I heard the door open and shut. The lack of yelling suggested that it wasn't a member of staff, so I kept playing. As I played the last chord, arms came to rest around my waist and a kiss hit the nape of my neck. I really hoped it was Blaine, because otherwise I would have some explaining to do.
"I didn't know you could play piano." I relaxed as Blaine's voice tickled my ear, his hand splaying itself out against my chest.
"I hope you know, I just broke my cardinal rule for you." I leant back into the strange embrace, leaving my hands resting on the keys lightly. Blaine released me after a second, pulling away. "Not one of the Beatles was Jewish."
"Brian Epstein was. That's got to count for something." Blaine countered, coming to rest next to me. His fingers tinkered with the keys, playing a short, quiet melody. "I heard you lost your job. I'm sorry."
"It's fine." I shrugged. "Need to come up with a new business plan." I knew, if I was going to give this thing with Blaine a good chance, sleeping with cougars would have to stop, which eliminated, like, 95% of my pool clientele. I turned to look at Blaine, mouth watering as I realised how very close his pink lips were. "Hi."
"Hey." Blaine smiled back. He looked nervous, licking those hot lips anxiously. "I locked the door…" He whispered, leaning in for a quick kiss which very quickly snowballed into a hot makeout session. I grabbed his tie, pulling him off the stool and onto the floor with me.
"So…" I broke the kiss, coming up onto all fours above him as I tried to cool down. Imagining George Bush in lingerie usually did the trick. "I want to keep doing this." I blurted out, watching as he raised an amused brow. "Not just, y'know, this, but the whole going on dates thing."
"Puck, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" Blaine asked, smiling at me.
"I'm doing a pretty shit job of it, aren't I?" I was so nervous, and he was fucking unhelpful. "Fuck. Is it too soon? I've never fucking done this before, I don't know wh-"
"I would be honoured." Blaine answered, leaning forward for a quick kiss. "We've been dancing around each other for long enough."
"Good. Great. Fantastic, even. Okay." I muttered, giving up with communication and kissing him some more instead.
"I love that song!" Mercedes and Tina squealed, and I smirked. Seriously, the gay thing was clearly working for these two chicks. "Why didn't you tell us, though?" Mercedes asked. "We would have supported you, y'know?"
"I was planning to tell you. Kurt and Finn deserved to know first. Quinn, Santana and Britt had all had a bite of Puckster pie, Lauren and Artie just found out, so, yeah… Word got through on the grapevine before I could tell you face to face. You guys aren't last, though. Still have to tell Berry."
Mike whistled lowly, raising his eyebrows. "You know Rachel still thinks she stands a chance with Blaine after her party last week?"
"Yeah, I know. Which is why I need to go and sort that chick out." I downed the remaining coffee, setting the mug down and standing up. "I'll see you guys Monday, yeah?"
Rachel had barely opened the door before she started grating on me. "Noah, what a pleasant surprise! Come in, I was just baking some cookies. Are you here for a specific reason? I could use with some help with my vocal runs, and I've had an amazing idea for a song we could do as a tribute to our shared Jewish heritage at regionals." She shepherded me into the kitchen, pottering about energetically.
"I'm afraid it's just a flying visit, Berry." I announced, perching at the breakfast island. "It's about Blaine."
"Were you hoping to be named Godfather to our future children? It's a bit early for that, Noah, and besides, I was thinking Kurt or –"
"No, Rachel." I started. Fuck, this was going to be hard. "I get that you kind of need a win right now, but Blaine's not going to be your guy." I announced. She looked crestfallen, but defiant. "For starters, he's gay –"
"I'm afraid you're very much mistaken. You see, Noah, Blaine and I have a connection. That much was obvious at my party, and love knows no gender." Rachel looked at me with stupidly sympathetic eyes, and it took all my effort not to roll my eyes. "One day, I hope you'll find someone that special."
The party had been a bad night for Blaine and I. After a month and a half of secret dating, the novelty of being secretive was wearing thin for Blaine. Twenty minutes before I was due to arrive at Rachel's, he text me saying he was going as Kurt's plus-one, and I flipped my shit. He got pissed off, arguing that he wouldn't have to be Kurt's plus-one if I just came out of the closet and invited him instead, I was furious because he was my fucking boyfriend, and he was going on a pseudo date with another guy. By the time we both arrived at the party (him with Kurt, me alone) I could barely talk from anger, and he had put up his stupid 'hey guys I'm awesome' mask.
I barely noticed when Spin the Bottle began, too busy glaring. However, I definitely noticed when Blaine started macking with Rachel Fucking Berry. The amount of effort that he was putting in was definitely for my benefit, a royal 'fuck you' to my unwillingness to come out.
They'd covered Human League, but while Rachel made googly eyes at Blaine, he was staring at me, all hot and angry. I stormed out for a smoke, knowing he'd follow soon enough.
Sure enough, I was barely halfway through my cigarette when he tumbled out the back door, glaring at me. "Hey Kurt's friend with a Mohawk, how are you?" He spat, stalking past me to stand at the edge of the patio.
"Fine, Kurt's posh-bitch-boyfriend, how are you?" I replied, smoking angrily. "Looked like you were having fun with Rachel."
"I really was." Blaine smirked, and I really wanted to flip a table. Berry was lucky her Dads' patio table was bolted down. "Maybe I'm not as gay as I thought." Blaine mocked, coming closer to me, hissing his words. "For all you know, I've been thinking of women while we were together."
"Those cigarette trousers hide nothing, Blaine." I snapped, turning away from him. "Kissing Rachel Berry did about as much for mini-Blaine as macking a wet fish."
"How can you be so sure you always get a rise out of me? Huh?"
"Because." I span sharply, chucking the stubbed cigarette away and pinning him to the wall in one smooth movement. I waited a moment, then pressed my knee between his, pushing my thigh against his crotch, eliciting a moan from his mouth as I made contact with his already hard dick. "I haven't even kissed you yet, and I've got ten times the reaction Berry could ever wish for."
"Shut up." Blaine muttered, grabbing me firmly by the back of the neck and tugging me in sharply. It was one of our messiest kisses – tongues were everywhere, teeth were clashing, all technique lost to raw emotion. I changed my target, licking and nipping at his neck as he gasped for air. All hope of normal breathing was lost, though, when I dropped to my knees in front of him.
"Puck…" I mouthed him through his jeans, stroking the inside of his thighs. "Puck, this isn't fair, I'm trying to be mad at you for being straight." I pulled away at that, resting on my heels and raising an eyebrow.
"Handy hint; I'm pretty sure straight dudes don't do that." I pointed to his crotch, where the wet outline of my hard work was clear. "I'm gay, Anderson, I'm just not out and proud." I climbed onto one knee, pulling him down to meet me in another hot kiss, not stopping until he finally began to relax into it. "I love you, stop being a prat and let me continue."
"You don't have to…"
"I want to." I reiterated, leaning forward to mouth him again. Blaine leant back, closing his eyes as I got to work, and carding a hand through the little hair I had to grab.
This wasn't a first for either of us – we'd been fooling around with cheeky handjobs, blowjobs, and more for weeks – but the manner of it, the aggressiveness with which he was tugging at my hair and I was tugging at his zipper, was so very different from the playfulness and affection that had preceded it. I stopped when I finished undoing his belt, leaning away for a second. "You want me to continue?"
"God yes." I yanked his trousers down to his knees, taking most of him in my mouth before he had time to think. He keened, groaning as I ran my tongue up the underside of his dick. I kept toying with him, every grunt and moan from him running through my body into my own cock, until he was close. I slid him out of my mouth with a pop, smirking at his beleaguered whine.
I reached up to play with his nipple with one hand, continuing to pump him with the other. "Who are you thinking of, Blaine?"
"Wha…" Blaine looked at me, and his eyes darkened. "You. Just you. Only you. Puck…"
"Good." I stated, before returning my mouth to his dick. It only took a few more seconds of attention before he was crying my name, repeating 'I love you' like a twisted prayer. He sagged against the wall, but didn't fall, and I pressed my hand to one hip and my forehead to the other as I waited for him to calm.
"Well," I started lightly, climbing to a stand and giving Blaine a quick kiss. "I think we both just passed the gay litmus test."
Blaine nodded, struggling to catch his breath. His arms wrapped around me, sagging from the mix of alcohol and pleasure. "Kissing Rachel Berry was as arousing as kissing a wet fish, you're right. I just wanted so badly to make you worry, like I worry, you know?"
"Babe?"
"Kurt told me." Blaine whispered, and my stomach dropped a little. "About what you used to be like, the quantities of women you used to get through, and what if I'm not enough?" I pressed him into the wall a little, running my hands down his sides in what I hoped was a comforting manner. "I was terrified enough at the thought that you were the ultimate gay catch, that you could get any man you wanted if you bored of me, and then I found out you'd tried every woman in McKinley too. I can't live up to that, Puck."
"Shut up." It wasn't said with malice this time, just weariness. "You're like… the sun, babe. And all those other people, they might be really bright stars, but I don't give a shit because the second you came up into my life, they all disappeared under your brightness." I grabbed his trousers, shimmying them up his hips and fixing his belt, before nodding at his crotch. "That was my fucked up way of showing I care, ok? I love you, and am in this for the long haul."
"I'm leading Kurt on." Blaine confessed, and it hurt. "I don't know why I'm doing it, because I love you, but sometimes it's nice to feel wanted by someone who would scream your name from the rooftops if you gave them the chance." I nodded, and Blaine's hands found their way to my cheeks. "But I don't want Kurt, I just want you, and I feel like the world's biggest bastard for doing this to both of you."
I didn't have the energy to fight anymore, so I let it slide, and started leading Blaine back inside. "Go and tell Kurt you're unavailable. He deserves that much. It'll take more than a bit of flirting to get rid of me now, sunshine."
"Thank you, babe." Blaine nuzzled into my neck, pulling me to a halt. "Wait. I need to return the favour…" He reached for my fly, but I was faster, grabbing his wrists and pressing him up against the wall again.
"Not tonight, babe."
"Why not?" Blaine pouted.
"Because, you're drunk, and I don't trust you to keep your teeth covered." I smirked, giving him a final kiss before pulling away. "Rest assured, I'll be thinking of you, not Rachel Fucking Berry, when I take care of business later."
"I love you." He whispered, and I pulled the pair of us away from the wall. After a cursory check that we were alone, I held him close and dipped him into one of those old school, romantic as fuck kisses that are in Blaine's old movies. I could feel the boy swoon.
So fucking smooth.
"You need to seriously adjust your gaydar, Berry." I muttered, adjusting my trousers slightly because God damnit we were hot. "And, believe it or not, I've already found a special someone."
"Please don't say you're going after Quinn again, Noah, that's just sad."
"No, Berry, I'm not going after Quinn. I'm with your boy Anderson." I smirked, and yeah, it was a bit evil, but bringing up Quinn was a low blow. "Given the fantastic. Gay. Sex. we have, I think you're a bit premature in planning the kids." I snuck a cookie off the counter, standing up. Rachel was stood there, gaping like a blowfish, and I winked. "Better luck next time, Berry."
I slipped into my truck, checking my texts before I pulled away from Berry's house as quick as the Gods would allow. There was just the one, from Blaine. You're taking too long, I'm going to make my own way to yours to save time. I'll take care of dinner. Love you x. I sighed, glad to be rid of the drive to his house. It's in the middle of fucking nowhere. Mine wasn't too far away, but I still had some quality thinking time before I reached home.
Thinking back, falling for Blaine had been way too easy. Yeah, there'd be problems in the future, and I still occasionally had doubts about my sexuality, but for the most part it was smooth sailing. I thought about all of the little firsts that had changed our relationship for the better; sleeping together for the first time (sooner than you'd think, but we waited far longer than I ever had before), the first time we'd switched in bed (the Puck is all about equality, and the noises Anderson'd make made me want to give it a go), the first time I saw him cry (after I'd told him I loved him, the big sap), the first time he ever saw me cry (the futurama episode with the dog. I fucking dare you to try watching it without a single macho tear), and every first yet to come.
Instead of heading straight there, I pulled into the mall en route, and hopped out, sprinting round a million places before hopping back in the car and continuing the journey.
I was 20 minutes late when I finally pulled up outside my house. Blaine's car was already on the drive, his shiny new Toyota looking completely out of place on our estate. Blaine knew where the spare key was, he was long in the house, and, since Sarah and Mom had both gone to Aunt Marie's, it was just us two, just the way I like it.
Blaine was on me the second the door opened, horny bastard. "Evening, gorgeous." Blaine smiled, grabbing me by the wife-beater and pulling me in for a long, hot kiss before I'd even got my jacket off. "Job done?"
"Job done." I confirmed, dumping my bag of stuff on the side. Blaine looked at it curiously, and I kissed him again as a method of distraction. He wasn't so easily distracted, though, and reached for the bag anyway. I slapped his hand aside lightly, grabbing it instead and lacing my fingers through his.
"What's in the bag, Puckerman." He grinned, mock-wrestling with me in an attempt to get at the loot.
"Blaine…" I started, holding the struggling boy at bay for the time being. "Blaine, we've been dating for…" He wasn't paying any attention to me, and it was pissing me off. "Blaine, in all the time I've known you..."
"Puck, let me see what's in the bag!"
"Shut up, will you?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "I'm trying to be a sappy git, and I'm not saying this twice, so listen up." Blaine paused, his face curious as he stopped fighting. "You're really fucking special to me, and today totally reminded me of how much I love you, so I got you a present."
"You did?" Blaine's eyes went all big and shit, and he looked totally hot. "Puck, I didn't get you anything."
"Yeah, well, I'm sure we can work something out." I winked, before returning to what I hoped was an intense, hot look. "Since not everyone knows that we are together, I wanted to get you something that showed you were mine, even if no one else knew what it meant." I slid the leather jacket out of the bag carefully, wrapping it around his shoulders. It was the same brand as mine, but smaller and a little less in your face. "I got myself a badass bowtie, too, but there's no way in hell I'm wearing this properly outside of these four walls, you got it?" I smirked, holding up the strip of leather that supposedly formed a bowtie. He looked at the bowtie, then back at me, then at the jacket around his shoulders.
"Noh-ah…" He drew my name out like a freakin' prayer, going all googly eyed as he threaded his arms through the jacket sleeves, and I knew I'd done well, but god-damn it if this wasn't enough sappiness for one evening. He pulled me in, resting his forehead against my cheek and getting very close to sticking his mad curls in my eyes. His hand slid down to mine, taking the bowtie and threading his fingers through mine. "You're so cute."
"Am not." I mumbled, rolling so my lips were against his cheek. "I'm a badass."
"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart." He mocked, drawing me in for a bit more lovin'. "I love you so much."
"Yeah yeah, you and every other son'bitch in this town." I smirked, yelping (in the most manly way possible) as he pinched my arse. "Will the house burn down if I tempt you upstairs?"
"I've made casserole, it needs another hour in the oven…" Blaine mouthed into my shoulder, wrapping the bowtie around my neck as he sucked at collarbone. Who would have guessed this was the same little virgin I broke in less than a month ago? I slapped his ass as he ran past me up the stairs, smirking at his glare. I quickly snuck a glance under my jeans, to check that Blaine's final present (the boxers I was wearing, with 'property of Blaine Anderson' scrawled across the front) were in place, then watched Blaine hook a finger at me, laughing and running into the bedroom as I smirked.
"Something in the way he moves..." I sang quietly to myself, before running up the stairs to join him.