Who New
A Short Fic
Six years into the future. FYI
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Nor will I ever….
Noah Puckerman
Hands pressed tightly to the sink, Noah looked himself over. Six years and multiple relationships had done terrible things. Terrible; but wonderful. He still had the dark Mohawk from his high school days, though his eyes had more emotion to them.
Actually, there were only two noticeable differences. An ugly, angry scar leading from his right ear lobe, and disappeared under his smooth chin. A result of a fight club incident. The second being his maturity. Six years, and seven relationships had taught him a lot.
The last romance had lasted almost a two years, defiantly the longest, hardest and most trying affiliation he had ever been in. The others were stepping stones that lead him out of the door of immaturity and denial.
When he had finally realized that he was in love, Noah was shocked. Beyond shocked. It had snuck up behind him and pushed him out. The Puckersaurous was tied down.
Well, he had been tied down. Splashing water on his face, he groped for a towel, patting his features dry. They had moved in together, once the feeling was reciprocated. Agreements were settled, a small flat, single bedroom, kitchen, large bathroom that was all that was mandatory.
That had been all that was required. A year later, one demand was made. And along with it a threat to leave. Puck had taken the play, hoping it was a bluff. It hadn't been. He threw open his closet, looking for his uniform. The emptiness of the cave sent his heart beating quickly.
Looking at the floor, all the black leather shoes were gone, even the single pair of flipflops. All that were left was a pair of beaten red Nikes, and those were his own.
Eyes prickling he made the call, "Finn, bud. I can't come in today," his voice broke and he sank to the bed.
"Yeh, sure. You sound like a mess. I'll see if I can find someone to cover. Call me if you need anything," Six years Finn had become very successful owner of "Finnigans Bar", where beer flowed and music filled the smoke ridden air.
Puck had gone to work there a few years back, and that was where they had met. Bright flood lights for a favor, heavy purple make up, dark black outfit. He had done a double take as they walked onto stage, had their hair always been that long? He didn't think so. Had they always looked so fantastic? What was wrong with him? They hadn't talked in years, and even before they graduated, they hardly talked.
Puck had bought them a drink, sliding it over with out his confident smirk, gasping as they're hands brushed. He had worked everyday for weeks, hoping to see them again, though it took one night for it all to come true.
Laying back on his bed, Noah clutched his chest. Empty drawers, echoing closet, they had even taken their toothbrush. Waking up to a cold bed was nothing new to him, and yet… He seized at the whole ripping in his gut; in his heart.
Fourteen months and they were nothing but a memory. A perfect memory; and one that broke his heart. Listen to him, Noah growled, talking about love and hearts he was turning into a Fairy.
Pulling hard on his strip of hair, he decided he needed to fix this. Or try to. Picking up his cell, he dialed his best friends number.
"Hey, oh, it's Quinn-i-o…" the usual greeting didn't make a dent in Noahs' mood, instead he rolled off the couch, placing his head in his free hand.
"Quinn… I've gotta tell you something, and I don't want you to hate me for it…"
"Go for it! I'm all ears, handsome," Quinn giggled into the phone, obviously playing with their daughter.
"I'm in love-"
And the conversations only got more awkward, as he carefully made his way down the list. Finn. Rachael. Santana and Brittany. Artie. Mike. Mr. Schue. As he reached the last person on the list, his heart thumped painfully, and he wondered if it were possible to have a heart attack, and if it was, if this is what it felt like.
Everyone had perfectly understood. Like they had known, which was probably true. It wasn't the knowing that made the difference; it was the balls it took to say it, twelve times over.
A low beeping sounded in his ear. Growling, he threw the phone across the room and it broke into three pieces. Staring at the shattered pieces, he couldn't help but let thick tears fall down his face.
Whipping the tears away, Noah stood and walked over to the kitchen, pulling out his wine glass, crystal clear, but it had a delicately carved 'Noah' on the front in a red heart; the other was painted a dark blood red, almost black. His hand brushed over it, but he didn't move it, only stared before shutting the cream colored cupboard door.
Pulling out a heavy red wine, he poured it into his glass; he had given up the cold hard alcohol, enjoying his sophisticated wines instead. Watching it level of with the top, and he pulled it hastily away. They would be pretty angry if he got wine on their newly marbled counter tops.
Sighing, Noah walked out onto the patio; he had to get away from the emptiness. He sank into the padded lawn chair placing the wine onto the rail and covering his head with his hands, realizing that the emptiness had followed him.
The bright city lights started to wink off, leaving Noah in the light of the moon. Realizing it was far too late, he sank into the chair, eyes falling into the room and over the empty bed. They were gone, and had no intentions of coming back. With that thought, he sunk into an un-restful sleep.
His face flinched away as bitter skin traced across his scar, the cold fingers waking him, the hand running through his Mohawk arousing him. Noah blinked into the dark, eyes struggling to make out the small object in front of him.
"Your back?" he asked, gulping as the fingers rubbed through his hair.
Soft music replied, "For you," it sounded like the crisp autumn leaves, but the familiar high confidence was weaved into it.
The sun rose and fell on the dark hair, the light pink lips, and the apple red cheeks. He searched the eyes for a sign of forgiveness, and he found the sea blue eyes he had fallen in love with.
I realize that this couldn't ever had played out as romantically as it did in my head, *sigh*. But I gave it my all and if you want to have a go, please do! O had debated turning it into a Tick? (tina puck) that would have really surprised you! I think… but than I couldn't do it. I love PURT!