Blaine wasn't really the angry type. Sure, he sometimes punched things, but he never was physically aggressive with Kurt. In fact he usually sang his frustration toward Kurt than yelled. Blaine was a good boyfriend. He really was.
So when Blaine's fist slammed into the wall a mere four inches away from his head, Kurt felt he was having some bizarre dream. He wasn't sure whether to start yelling and shove Blaine away or give into the fear that was building in his gut.
"Oh, God…" Blaine's voice soft, but horrified as he pulled his fist away, looking at the dent in the wall like he wasn't sure what had happened. "Kurt, I'm sorry. I don't…I didn't mean to scare you."
"I think you should leave," he replied. Swallowing, he turned his head to the side, eyes focusing on his window but not really. All his attention was on Blaine, unsure if he could get away with touching the other boy to shove him out of his room.
"Call me?"
"Sure."
He waited until he could hear Blaine's footsteps leave the stairs before taking in a breath and sliding down the wall, wrapping his arms around his knees. Shit. This…Kurt didn't even know how to explain to himself what just happened. It wasn't like Blaine had actually hit him. Blaine would never do that. Never. And it had been a stupid argument. That was all. And Blaine had hit the wall, no way had he been aiming for Kurt's face.
Rubbing his face, Kurt pushed himself to his feet and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He could hear Finn and, ugh, Puck fighting over the XBOX. Kurt pushed it all away and set about making some tea. It was like a wall enclosed around him. It had been a stressful day, that was all. He was fine.
"Hey," Finn greeted, dropping a pat on Kurt's shoulder.
Automatically Kurt jerked away and backed into the wall, hand shaking around his tea cup. Shit. Shit. What was that? Finn and Puck were staring at him and all Kurt seemed able to do was breathe faster and faster.
"Woah, Kurt! It's just us, dude." Finn shot Puck a look before turning back to his stepbrother. "Are you okay? Blaine kind of ran out of here."
"I'm fine," Kurt said, keeping his voice neutral.
"You sure? Cause you don't look it."
"It was an argument, that's all," Kurt insisted, though secretly he was enjoying Finn's obvious worry.
Finn nodded, apparently deciding to back off. Of course, as Kurt's life usually went, that was when Puck decided to speak up. "That short stack wasn't trying to pressure you or something, was he?"
"What the hell, was he?" Finn demanded.
"No!" Kurt snapped, setting down his cup before he threw it at Puck's stupid head. God, now Finn was going to be paranoid when Blaine showed up again. "I'm fine. It was an argument. I'm fine."
And he would have been fine if two things hadn't have happened within five minutes of each other. First, once he got back to his room, he received a disturbingly long text from Blaine that started off as an apology and then rambled into phrases like 'I wish you hadn't got me that angry, never should have happened.'
Which, seriously? That alone made Kurt want to go from okay and dealing to pissed off enough to throw his own punch.
So, naturally, Puck chose that moment to follow Finn's suggestion that Kurt might need to be checked on and, well, Puck must have lost. Kurt didn't even look up from his phone when Puck sauntered in, Kurt's face pinched like he ate a lemon. That was probably why Puck saw the dent in the wall before Kurt could kick him out. A dent that had not been there yesterday when Puck had snuck in to steal notes for History.
"He do that or you?" Puck asked, like he was commenting on the likelihood of rain.
Kurt slowly looked up, face a familiar mask that Puck had just gotten used to not seeing much anymore. "Him."
Kurt's phone tinged again, signaling another text, which caused Kurt to flinch.
"He do that often?" Still calm, almost bored.
Kurt shook his head, but the direction seemed to wobble towards the end as he read the text on his phone. Kurt sucked in a breath, let it out, and turned fully to Puck. "Not really. He's punched things, but he doesn't usually…he's never aimed at a person."
Puck strode forward and took Kurt's phone. Oddly, Kurt found he didn't have the energy to stop him. One moment of violence per day, thanks.
A series of emotions seemed to flicker across Puck's face as he read. Then he looked up at Kurt, jaw tense. "You deserve better."
"Puck, stop being dramatic." Kurt doesn't roll his eyes, but it's a near thing. "Haven't you ever gotten a little dramatic during an argument before."
Puck says nothing more. He just takes a second to glare at the near hole in the wall before stomping downstairs. The door had slammed behind him and Kurt really does not want to think too hard about what just happened.
It's not until the next weekend that Blaine is over again. The damaged wall had yet to be fixed and Kurt feels a rush of relief when Blaine visibly flinches at the sight of it. Because that is all the proof Kurt needs to know how badly his boyfriend feels. Besides, Kurt wasn't hurt, just scared. No different than most of his life.
Kind of a sad thought, really, but Kurt refuses to dwell.
"Miss you," Blaine whispered into his ear as he pressed Kurt onto the bed. "Dalton isn't the same without you."
"Yeah, but the cost…" Kurt doesn't say more, they've had this conversation before. Sometimes even argument. Kurt refuses to look at the wall and instead pulls Blaine into a soft kiss.
Kurt had always viewed kissing the way they showed it in Disney movies, the idea of considering more usually made him uncomfortable. He wasn't a prude, just a silly romantic who wanted to see every flower and bee along the trail. Blaine had always understood that. His patience was one of the things that drew Kurt to him.
Kissing Blaine was soft and tender. Even when Blaine positioned himself on top of Kurt, well he wasn't worried. It was just kissing, just the slightest amount of thrusting, just enough to pull a low moan to Kurt's throat.
So when Blaine grabbed his wrists and pinned them down onto the mattress, Kurt merely gasped into Blaine's mouth. But, for some reason the grip grew tighter and tighter and Blaine was suddenly forcing his thigh between Kurt's legs. Kurt wiggled, realizing he was pinned, turning his head to break the kiss.
"Umm, Blaine slow down," Kurt said, shocked that his voice could sound so breathless. Blaine nibbled on Kurt's earlobe and Kurt was pretty sure that groan was from himself. "Blaine, please-"
"Knew you wanted this."
"I do, just not now. Finn could be home any minute," Kurt replied, trying to get his wrists free. Blaine's head pulled back, his dark eyes staring down at Kurt with…some kind of emotion that Kurt had never had directed at him before, at least not by Blaine. It was like he was angry, only not. Aroused, yet sad. "Blaine?"
Suddenly Blaine was off the bed and pacing. "You don't actually want me, do you?"
"What?"
"God, you are so…I'm tired of feeling like I'm only your boyfriend when it's good for you. Fuck, Kurt! You won't even let me squeeze your ass."
"Get out," Kurt ordered, standing. "I don't know what your problem is here lately, but you have no right coming into my home-"
"And doing what? I haven't done anything, what? I can't speak my mind?"
"Haven't done anything? Tell that to the hole in my wall!"
"If you hadn't gotten me so angry-"
Kurt could suddenly feel an actual wave of anger flow through the room. He stared at Blaine, trying desperately to recognize him. But he couldn't. From the eyes, the hair, the twisted mouth, and the balled up fist that looked like it wanted to hit something. And Kurt wasn't pressed against a wall this time. There wasn't even plaster to give Blaine a different target.
He couldn't breath, he just couldn't. And when that fist raised, albeit slightly, his entire universe zoned in.
"What is going on here?" And Kurt had never been so happy that Finn was big enough for him to hide behind. "Kurt?"
Kurt mumbled something, though later he couldn't say what. He didn't even see Puck there until Blaine was being grabbed, one arm pinned against his lower back, and Puck dragged him out of the room. He could hear yelling downstairs but all he could do is sit down on his bed in utter numbness. Slowly, he looked up enough to see Finn before him. The teen he had crushed on for so long and now adored as the brother he had secretly wanted since child hood.
"What did he do?" Finn asked, for once not sounding clueless or dopey. His gaze was focused, concerned. "I can't help if you don't tell me."
Kurt felt a shudder go through him and said nothing, flinching when he heard Puck's growl downstairs and the front door slam.
Finn tilted his head and almost seemed to wait until Puck was hovering in the hallway, listening but not coming in, to speak. "My mom dated this guy, I was about eleven, he was the last guy she dated before you introduced her to Burt. He started off sweet, ya know? Then one day I caught him back handing my mom, yelling how she was frigid or something. I threw a book at his head and my mom made sure he never was in our lives again."
Kurt didn't like crying, he knew how puffy it made his face. But he couldn't help it then. The tears kept coming, even though he never made a noise. Finally, he sucked in the needed air. "He was mad that I…we were making out and…he pinned me and I told him to stop."
He heard the growl in the hallway, but didn't look in the that direction. He couldn't turn his eyes from Finn's face, which twisted into such anger, more than he'd ever seen except his dad. But like his dad, it was protective over him, like no one at that moment would ever dare to hurt him. Kurt could feel a sob building up, but he couldn't look away.
The next thing he knew was Finn pulling him forward, practically into his lap, and merely humming the first song Finn could think of. Kurt wasn't sure, he really wasn't, if what had happened had been that bad. But when he looked up to see Puck's face, he knew something about it had hit a string in both of them. Maybe, just maybe, Kurt should take it seriously too.
The television screen showed a weird looking car with a gun on top, while squat aliens attacked the humans within. Kurt had never played Halo, but he did find entertainment from Finn, Puck, and Sam playing while throwing out insults and teasing remarks. He could have been at Rachel's girl time party, but for once he wanted to spend time with the boys, even if he wasn't really participating. Next to him Mike and Artie were arguing about something, but Kurt wasn't paying attention. He was merely enjoying the vibe of them all.
Then the doorbell rang.
Kurt figured it was the pizza, so he stood and made his way over, chuckling while open the door as he heard Sam yell "Die alien scum!" As he looked up he felt his body stiffen before his brain registered that Blaine was standing there, a bouquet of roses in his hands and a sheepish smile on his face.
"I figured apologies were best in person," Blaine said, shrugging slightly. His face tensed, like he wanted to say something else, but instead chose to smile.
"Umm, all the guys are here," Kurt said, something in his telling him not to let Blaine in. But the guy just seemed so heartbroken, possibly cause Kurt had ignored him for a week.
"Please, Kurt?"
Moving automatically, Kurt accepted the flowers and shut the door as Blaine stepped inside. The sounds of the video game suddenly stopped and Kurt froze in place as Puck stood up, looking angry and ready to explode. "What the fuck is he doing here?"
"I'm his boyfriend, I deserve to be here more than you, who threw him in dumpsters," Blaine snapped, face betraying his real anger before it calmed and he smiled at Kurt. "Let's go upstairs, we need to talk."
Kurt saw Puck twitch in anger, actually Finn was too, and he realized they were actually waiting for him to give the go ahead to kick Blaine out. Kurt sighed and returned Blaine's smile, still sure they were overreacting. "Yeah, let's do that."
He could hear the hissed talking as he lead Blaine upstairs and he was certain Finn was telling everyone what had happened. Shuddering and, admittedly, repressing, Kurt sat at his desk chair and watched as Blaine laid the roses onto his pillow, like some weird post-death scene in a creepy romance film that, well, maybe now Kurt wouldn't enjoy so much.
"You wanted to talk?" Kurt asked, keeping his tone neutral. He wasn't really scared. Blaine had shown weird behaviors of course, but everyone lashed out. Kurt was guilty of that, he knew. But he didn't understand the hardness of Blaine's expression when he turned toward Kurt.
"What are they all doing here? Why is Puckerman so…pissed off your boyfriend came to see you?"
Kurt cleared his throat before replying. "It's boys night. The girls are having their own night. As for Puck…I'm not sure, I guess he feels protective since he's been hanging out here lately."
"He wants in your pants," Blaine muttered, though his face showed none of the anger and jealousy that was in his tone.
And suddenly a switch was thrown and Blaine appeared just as Kurt always remembered, safe like he always was. He felt gentle fingertips, guiding him into a kiss. Gentle hands leading him to the bed. Whispered words that made him giggle because they weren't seductive, just happy and fun and everything he had dreamed Blaine to be since the beginning.
And then there was Blaine on top of him again, only not as forceful. That is until…
A hand grabbed his jaw, holding it still as Blaine pulled back to look at him. "I know you don't want to hurt me, Kurt. I know you wouldn't seek it out. But those boys down there? They just want one thing. You know what that is, don't you?"
"Blaine, what-?"
"I know," Blaine said. And he smiled, like he was sad and just trying to hold onto the one thing he needed. "We have always been meant to be. I'm sorry for what I did, but I didn't hurt you did I?"
"No…" Kurt replied, unsure of what else to say. Blaine made sense, he did, but also…not at all.
"Please, let me love you," Blaine whispered, lowering himself, pressing Kurt into the bed but also waiting for Kurt to lift up enough to kiss him.
Maybe it was the pressure, maybe it was the fact that he was a teenage boy that was horny, no different than any other. Kurt kissed him and enjoyed the way Blaine touched him. Enjoyed how one of Blaine's hands slid down along his side until it was clutching his thigh, pulling it upward until Kurt could do no more than wrap it around Blaine's hip.
Blaine rolled his hips and Kurt gasped and tried to arch upward. But Blaine was pinning him down, not letting him move. He wanted to thrust upward and he tried. He tried as his wrists were grabbed and pressed into the pillow. Kurt grunted, wanting to moan over the physical feelings but the way Blaine was going about it…like he wanted to force his dominance.
"Blaine…" Kurt said, well, more mumbled. Blaine mouth was pressed against his, the normally restrained guy biting into his lip. Kurt was willing to forgive it, maybe, simply because there was still the thrusts Blaine was making that did actually feel good. But he knew his wrists would have bruises and the taste of blood in his mouth was too much. He whipped his head to the side and was shocked when that made Blaine groaned. He knew why when teeth bit into his neck, just under his jaw. And that was when Kurt knew he didn't want it, not pain, never pain. "Stop!"
"What the fuck, Kurt?" Blaine grounded out, but he was still rolling his hips.
Kurt suddenly felt sick that he was still holding an erection, and the very thought made a sob escape his throat. A sob that didn't really stop Blaine. Oh he stopped thrusting and climbed off, but the frustration and anger in his eyes was so clear, too clear. And to be honest, Kurt wasn't shocked when the slap hit his face.
And Kurt was sick when he felt like he deserved it.
"I'm sorry," Kurt whispered afterward. "I just guess I realized I don't like it rough."
"It's no wonder your friends don't like me." Blaine was slowly backing toward the door. "if you can't tell me what you don't want, then how am I suppose to know. You need to tell me. God, why can't you just be normal…"
The last was said in a whisper, but Kurt still heard it. And he didn't know why, but he flinched. "I'm sorry."
"Just…say something, if I don't know…well this happens."
Kurt watched him leave, curling up into a ball on the bed like that would protect him. His cheek hurt, it wasn't a slight slap that had happened. And he suddenly realized, with his skin there was probably already a bruise. Panicking, he rushed for make-up, though compared to last year he didn't use much, but it was there at his vanity. Like it knew this would happen. The thought made him want to cry but he knew that would make covering it up harder.
Ten minutes later he returned to the living room, smiling the most fake smile he ever conjured, just in time to eat pizza with the boys. He notice Puck glancing at him, then sharing a look with Finn, who would then look like he actually wanted to cry. Kurt tried to ignore it, putting on a happy face, even though all the boys eventually started exchanging glances like they were trying to plan a war silently.
Kurt had always wanted guy friends. But he never realized they'd be like this.
It wasn't until bedtime, when he was wiping off concealer to reveal a bruise that was darker than he expected that Kurt actually broke down. He practically curled himself under the vanity, like the precious furniture his mother had left in her wake would protect him. He cried and damn did he cry hard.
That was probably why he didn't hear Puck enter the room. But he did see him throw Blaine's roses in the trash. Kurt trembled underneath the vanity, not even bothering to hide his gasps and attempts to breathe between sobs. And yet, he wasn't afraid when Puck dropped down, sitting Indian style and watching him with a stubbornly sad expression.
Puck took a deep breath. "All of us are on board with beating the shit out of Dapper Dan."
Kurt let out a sound, he thought it was words, but the way Puck's face softened told him it wasn't. He didn't know what to say, so many things rushed through his head. Then he remembered his father always saying, you don't mess with the Hummels. Swallowing a sob, he looked at Puck, noticed the way he held himself carefully. Noticed he was careful, didn't say a word. He waited.
"I don't know what happened," Kurt finally said.
Puck looked away, taking a deep breath. "We never do."
"I don't love him, but…it's so close. I never thought he'd be like this." Kurt didn't know why he was opening up to his former bully, but he remembered the dumpster tosses and how Puck always held him carefully, made sure he wasn't actually hurt. Once, Puck saw broken glass in the dumpster and talked the other boys into just ribbing him with words. Knowing that, he knew Puck had a heart, always had though he kept it hidden. "What do I do?"
"Get away," Puck replied. "Fuck, Kurt you are stronger than a lot of guys I know. So strong. I picked on you just to see that fight in your eyes, it gave me…"
Kurt turned , halfway out of his hiding place, almost wanting to cry when he saw Puck's face. The boy, no he looked like a man, was trying to look away but Kurt caught his eye. And what Kurt saw there was an old hurt, older than Finn's. Kurt didn't know how to respond to that, but he asked anyway. "Tell me. I don't know if I can learn on my own. Tell me."
Puck looked scared for a moment, then he smiled and reached into his bulging hoodie. He pulled out a small bottle of whiskey and before Kurt could think of saying no to some, Puck had swallowed it all. It seemed to give him strength and Kurt waited, feeling his shudders fall away.
Puck looked at him, his eyes a disturbingly beautiful green-brown hazel that Kurt randomly realized was close to his favorite color. Puck reached out a hand and without thinking, Kurt accepted it. Next thing he knew they were laying on his bed, but not pressed together. Puck kept a distance, but they laid facing each other. Kurt kept waiting, even when Puck brushed his bangs to the side.
Puck cleared his throat. "My dad ran off when I was ten. Before than…he never once hit me. My sister was a year old when he left, she never got…any treatment. Growing up I thought the way my dad treated my mom was normal, until I noticed how she acted compared to Mrs. H. My mom would go through cycles of happy and just…like glass shattered. I realized the glass thing mostly happened when he'd come home, tuck me in, then I'd hear her crying and sounding like the world was ending."
"I'm so sorry." Kurt knew it was stupid, but what else could he say? His dad could go from threatening someone with a flamethrower to being a big teddy bear.
"It took until I was in freshman year to realize what that was, marital rape. It took me till then to stop idolizing him, to remember the bruises around her wrists, on her jaw. The marks on her back. And I felt so sick, ya know? I loved him, but he did this to the only person more important. Fuck, Kurt…I don't beg, I don't really ask unless I need to, but please don't let this bastard do that to you. I couldn't…you're so strong. He's a pathetic piece of crap compared to you."
Kurt stared at him, seeing the…god. Kurt couldn't even figure out what it was he was seeing, but it was a vulnerability that Kurt had never seen in Puck. He was stating truth, fully laying it bare. Kurt felt like he was about to cry, not for himself but for Puck. He swallowed, forced it down. "I don't know how to keep him away. He…he has his own past, you know? Why should I judge him for it."
"Screw that." Puck's jaw clenched. "You shouldn't have to be his punching bag. Shit like that is what therapy or karate class is for. You should be off limits. He needs to figure his fucking shit out and leave you to live while he is alone."
"I don't know if I can leave him alone," Kurt whispered.
"We both remember how I bullied you," Puck said softly. "You pretty much went through the motions with me, like you were bored but sniped at me to keep the day interesting."
Kurt didn't bother to not roll his eyes.
"You just left me alone for the most part and look at us now," Puck said, reaching out to touch Kurt's hand. "You're my boy."
Kurt was silent for a moment. Then he said the first thing to pop into his head. "I like being your boy."
Puck raised an eyebrow and grinned.
"Shut up," Kurt mumbled, blushing.
"I'm gonna stay the night, use the tricks my mom used to help you cover that bruise up. We are gonna get rid of Bland the Prick, hopefully before your dad finds out and they don't find the body for twenty years. And even then not all of it."
Kurt wanted to scoff, but his dad probably would go to the extreme. The idea of letting Blaine in his house and trusting him near his son. Only to discover this. It would be worse then Karofsky, because Burt Hummel would have the freedom of no one knowing his actions, and probably the clumsy help of Finn. So Kurt just nodded.
"Get into your fancy sleepwear," Puck said, rolling off the bed. "I'll be in Finn's room. Dude, don't complain about the gaming noise."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'll refrain."
Kurt slept later than usual, the tiredness of what was happening combined with it being a Sunday led to him to walk down the steps and make his own breakfast. His dad was at work and Kurt wasn't sure where Carol was. He could here movement in the living room and soft voices, all male, but didn't really care at the moment. He had tossed and turned most the night. So breakfast and rejuvenation was important.
He had made a point to ignore the five missed calls and near short stories of texts from Blaine. For some reason he wanted Puck to see them first. Maybe because Puck could easily fit the role of grumpy protector. Maybe because it was Puck, and Finn, two males constants in his life aside from his Dad that he could grip hold of.
A gasp from the door broke his thoughts and he looked up to see Puck, Finn and Sam staring. He nearly frowned, but remembered the bruises. The bruises he actually, somehow, forgot about.
Kurt watched as Sam's face went from shocked to a twisted sort of expression that was hard to read. Well, past the clear desire for blood.
He could honestly only drop his head and not bother to hide his deeply purpled face. He felt ashamed. Like every variation of the bruises color was a physical sign of how he messed something up, did something wrong. He hated them seeing that, but he didn't have a long enough time to start exiting the room.
"He's dead," Sam said, voice tense.
"Shit, Princess," Puck whispered, stepping close and dropping into the nearest seat. "It looks worse than I thought it would."
"Bruises like a China doll," Finn mumbled, staring at the floor. "Or a fruit. Not… like a peach thing."
"It's okay, Finn," Kurt automatically said, used to the special phrases his brother said. He turned to Puck, there eyes meeting. "Can we hide it? I don't want people to see it tomorrow."
Puck nodded, "Yeah but some of the stuff we're going to have put on it to ease up the bruises so we can 'paint' it in the morning is…not the best smelling. Good thing your dad said he'd be in late."
"What kind of stuff?" Kurt said warily.
"Sports medicine…and, well, a few herb remedies from Grandma Puckerman."
Kurt breathed and nodded. Then he slid his phone to Puck, closing his eyes as Puck growled over the first text. Then Puck tossed it to Sam who caught it and let Finn lean over his shoulder as they read.
"You guys take care of that and I'll help out my boy over here," Puck announced, grinning in a way that used to be predatory. Kurt could tell he meant to tease, get him to smile. And Kurt let his mouth curl up and closed his eyes to enjoy the gentle touch of Puck's hand on his back, the boy's thumb moving in circles.
Kurt never knew what Sam and Finn did. He was caught up in a new strange experience where every morning Puck helped him with his makeup and at night Kurt help Puck pass English. It didn't seem right, that it took this to make them truly friends.
Weeks passed and Kurt heard nothing from Blaine. What Sam and Finn had done had worked. But now, now that there were no bruises, panic set in. He saw Blaine everywhere. Brown curly hair in the hall. A laugh. From two hours away, Blaine was practically stalking him without lifting a finger.
"It happens, trust me," Puck said. "Maybe you should talk to someone?"
"I don't need a therapist," Kurt snapped.
"No, online forums, for domestic violence," Puck said softly. "My mom has one bookmarked. She has it labeled vague, but I looked once. I could give you're the link? Only you get to choose to move past this, Kurt. And even then, fuck the world if they expect it to be immediate."
"Why are you doing this?" Kurt asked.
"I think I like to take care of the people I like," Puck said, giving a sardonic grin.
Kurt smiled. "You're good at it."
For a moment, Kurt was pretty sure Puck was blushing. And, honestly, for a moment Kurt started to smirk. An expression he hadn't used in a while. But he had to remind himself that Puck was a friend, albeit an amazing one. But only a friend.
The forum was very helpful, much to Kurt's shock. And he easily spotted Puck's mother on it, but he didn't indicate he knew of her or her son. If Puck had said anything to her, she had decided to do the same. It was a good outlet for his fears. Other people knew what he was going through. Even gave tips on how to deal with the anxiety.
Kurt had just logged off when Finn entered his room. Not knocking, which was an annoying habit of his, but shuffling in like an adorable giants teddy bear. Kurt often understood his crush on him last year, he really was too cute. But Kurt adored how they were now.
"Yes?" Kurt asked.
Finn's head dropped slightly. "Sam was wondering…we were wondering, but it was mostly Sam! If, well Puck is kinda intense in a ladies man way and we…I…we have no idea how he'd be in a dude way and are you guys fine? Are you dating? It's okay, but I'll beat his ass if he touches you and, ya know, you don't want the touch or whatever."
Kurt stared.
Finn fidgeted. "I don't want you to get hurt again and we've noticed Puck has been talking about you more. All affectionate, like true love level. But he's Puck, you know? So you can never be too sure."
Kurt wanted to sputter, to protest, but instead he let out the humiliating sound of a squeak.
Finn suddenly brightened. "You feel the same! This is awesome!"
"How?" Kurt asked, extremely strangled. He wasn't exactly sure what he was asking. Tons of different questions popped into his head, and most of them useless.
"Hey maybe it's awesome because you two care more about each other that most the couples in Glee. Well, except Mike and Tina. But they are just abnormal." Finn stopped, probably out of air. He stepped closer and squeezed Kurt's shoulder. "Puck is trusting more than…that guy. So if it happens, awesome. But I'm confused whose best man I'll end up being."
Kurt burst out laughing, almost wanting to cry. "I'm not ready, Finn. I'm really not."
Finn nodded, like he already knew this. "Okay, but I get to be the first to know?"
Kurt chuckled. "Always."
It came as a letter. His father handed it over, not really paying attention to who it was from. Kurt glanced at the return address. It simply said Anderson and the Dalton Academy location.
He didn't realize he was trembling until he got upstairs and had his phone out. He hesitated then. Puck was at football practice. Memory serves that phones remained in the locker room. And wasn't Kurt strong enough now? It had been three months, after all. He'd gotten over things faster.
Determined, Kurt ripped the letter open and began to read. His eyes skimmed the page, trying to understand the words being put there. He could understand the poetry of it, the part that was a clear love letter. The ending was more a demand to meet.
Kurt stared at the date. Tomorrow at five in the evening at, of course, the Lima Bean.
Kurt set the letter down and looked into the vanity mirror. He looked fine, aside from the tension. So much better than that day, the day he learned Blaine wasn't a good boy. The day he learn Noah Puckerman and Finn Hudson almost loved him. No, actually did. They loved him.
With no expectations, they did. And if Finn was correct, Puck loved him more than brotherly.
He was going to go. He was going to face this head on. Because his dad was right, no one truly could mess with the Hummels. By themselves they were powerful. With friends on their side, unstoppable.
So, knowing that, he set himself ready. He told no one where he was going the next day. And it wasn't until he was sitting in the coffee house, a cup of his perfect brew sitting untouched, that he picked up his phone and texted Puck. By his calculations, Puck would arrive, possibly with Finn in tow, right when things either finished as Kurt hopes or turned ugly.
And the shift of a chair told Kurt that Blaine was there. He slowly looked up from his phone as Blaine sat down, more in a thump than anything. Actually he looked horrible. Without the meticulous hair gel, the circles were fighting to be free. He looked tired, worn out.
Kurt wanted to laugh.
"Kurt—"
"Hush, don't talk. I know what you want to say," Kurt said, raising a hand. "It won't work."
"I miss you," Blaine said anyway. "I want to fix this."
"It's been done and you've said that before, as well. I came to meet you for closure, Blaine," Kurt said, his voice bitter. "Not one last chance for you to hurt me. I could be petty. I could post every letter and text on Facebook."
Blaine winced. "How many times do I have to say sorry? It will never happen again."
"Of course. Not to me, because we are over. Over, Blaine. And I hope you get help before you date again." Kurt glanced through the window, seeing Puck truck arrive and him and Finn jumped out. Puck looked pissed. Kurt stood and stared down at Blaine. "Don't contact me again. You've been lucky so far. But next time, my father gets every record of our conversations. He threatened a flamethrower on the school once, just because I didn't get to sing a solo. What do you think he'll do to you?"
Kurt ignored Blaine's sputters and yelling his name as he strode out of the coffee house. He was able to breath until there was fresh air in his lungs. Puck stood before him, smelling of sweat and Axe. Kurt didn't even think and he stepped closer, grabbing Puck's shirt.
Puck didn't say anything, just wrapped his arms around Kurt and held him. Kurt sunk into the warmth of Puck's body. Then he drew back and looked at him, searching his face. There were a good number of emotions there. Even anger. Kurt dropped his head slightly. "I'm sorry. I should have—"
"You are as strong as I thought," Puck interrupted.
And Kurt kissed him. It was stupid, possibly too soon, but he did it. And Puck kissed back. It was passionate and had the perfect amount of firmness and tongue. Kurt was engulfed in it, overwhelmed. Then he was leaning against the truck and breathing deeply, Puck's body was close, pressed against him, but it didn't feel at all threatening.
"Sorry," Kurt whispered.
"I'm not complaining," Puck replied, starting to smile.
"Okay, gross," Finn blurted out, clearly interrupting the moment. Kurt looked over to see him slightly flushed, grinning, and looking like he just got pay dirt. "I knew it was gonna happen. I won twenty bucks off of Sam."
"Shut up, dude." Puck's voice was soft when it landed on Kurt. "Just let me know the boundaries. I am not gonna be that asshole."
Kurt smiled and cleared his throat. "Well, I figure you'll back off when I say so. But I'm not going to be easy, Puck."
"Breadstix, at seven on Friday?" Puck asked.
"Yes, very much yes," Kurt said, grinning. He rose up and kissed Puck one more time. Naturally Puck began touching him. And Kurt almost groaned, because it was nothing like Blaine. Puck had actually waited, let him work through what happened, and this was kind of a reward.
"Hey, no moaning Kurt noises!" Finn yelled out. Kurt jerked back and knew he was blushing. "Let's go home. I'm not sure if I want to see this. Kurt, I am riding with you."
"So there is a part that kind of wants to see this?" Kurt asked, enjoying how Finn briefly stumbled on his way to the Navigator. Kurt chuckled and looked back at Puck. "I'll see you later?"
"You can count on it," Puck replied. He darted forward and kissed the corner of Kurt's cheek. Then he yelled toward Finn. "Hands off my boy!"
Kurt began fully laughing when Finn tripped again. He squeezed Puck's hand then made for his Navigator. Kurt climbed in, waving at Puck who seemed determined to watch them leave. A smile appeared on his face as he began to back out.
"So, will I be your best man?" Finn asked.