Author Notes:

Hi, all. This is my first finished (albeit short) story. It's a oneshot, and I was simply testing the waters. I'd hope this goes well. 33 Puckurt.

Summary: Kurt and Puck have to stand each other for a whole week as they are partners for a glee assignment. But when Puck gets bored, they decide to do something else. FRIENDSHIP, Puckurt hints.

It takes place during the back-nine; however, long before "Funk."

Rated 'M' for sexual suggestions and language.

Unbeta'd. Excuse the typos.

"The Xbox Alliance"

Kurt sat cross-legged in the back of the choir room as Mr. Shuester informed them on the Glee club's next assignment. He couldn't help but smirk in anticipation. He would be so pleased to no end if they were to do ballads - the right way this time. Perhaps he would get another chance to properly voice his affections? He shoved the thought out of his head as perverse emotions washed through him. Finn didn't see him like that, and he obviously never would. One could never turn a straight boy, unless they were a gay vampire; but where would you find a gay vampire in Ohio? Furthermore, the boy didn't think he could handle anymore rejection after the whole 'faggy' incident.

"Okay, guys, I know you're all tense since Sectionals are nearing, so I figured we'd make this our last easy assignment before just chilling out a bit," Mr. Shuester smiled. "We will be doing ballads. If you can't loosen up around your friends, then you will never loosen up on stage in front of the audience. We need to be loose and unabashed if we want to make it to the top. So, with that being said, we will do partnered ballads chosen by the hat of fate." The choir director smiled and excitedly clapped his hands together.

He walked over to the piano, grabbed the black fedora resting on it, and shook it up, rustling the paper note cards inside. "Okay, now, the moment you've all been waiting for; the hat of fate will choose its partners! Who's first?"

Rachel enthusiastically waved and power-walked to Mr. Shuester and would hastily pull out a folded up piece of paper. "Artie…" Her smile somewhat dropped. Kurt noticed it and smirked. She clearly thought she would be paired with Finn. God, not everything revolved around her, he thought fondly. He admitted, the obnoxious diva grew on him throughout the year, and even though the two appeared to have a 'frenemy' relationship, he harbored deep respect for the girl; well, mostly for her powerful voice, but he digressed. She wouldn't be getting his Finn. Whoops, he did it again. "Damn this deep-rooted, unrequited love," he wearily thought to himself. Finn wasn't even that cute. Oh, damn it, yes he was.

Finn was up next. "Mercedes. Cool," he dumbly smiled, running his fingers through his disheveled hair while taking a seat.

Puck rose to his feet and slowly ambled over to take a name out of the hat. "Hummel."

Next was Tina, who paired with Matt, and then Mike, who paired with Santana. Sadly, Santana informed Mr. Shuester that Brittany had forgotten how to get out of her own house this morning and so she wouldn't be joining them today.

"Well, today's session is over. Good bye, guys, and good luck." The curly haired man smiled, watching his students gather their things and exit.

Everyone seemed satisfied with their partners, well, except Rachel (who was never satiated with anything, so she didn't matter) and Kurt. He glanced over to the boy, who had, surprisingly enough, refrained from calling him a queer or even verbally showing his displeasure from being partners with Kurt. Well, Puck hadn't called him names since he began warming up to Glee club, but still, he couldn't be too sure because the Mohawk'd boy was fickle, especially with all the past baby mama drama. Currently, he wore a thoughtful, somewhat constipated expression, while looking at the floor.

Grabbing his Alexander McQueen bag, he made his way to the door, only to be blocked by Puck, who stood in the doorway. Kurt's eyes widened as he waited to see what the boy wanted.

"So, we're partners?" He asked, looking at the boy, eyebrows furrowed in a whiny way.

"Yes, it seems that way," Kurt answered, looking away; anywhere. "Now, if you would excuse me." He wouldn't dare try to push through the muscular boy, so hopefully he caught the hint that he was, well, blocking the damn door.

Puck stepped back, allowing the countertenor to step into the hallway. He couldn't help but eye him as he awkwardly attempted to walk away. He frowned and ran his fingers through his thick strip of hair. It wasn't like he was going to steal his lunch money or something. Hell, there wasn't even a trash can around that he could have been thrown in. Not that he did that to just anyone these days, it was mostly that annoying Jewfro and his little blogging buddies. So, still, he was epically badass and threw losers in dumpsters, just not members of Glee. They were his cherished teammates, after all; and although he wouldn't admit it, he changed because of them; everyone. Even the oddly smoking hot, yet insufferable, Rachel Berry, affected him.

"Yo, Hummel!" Puck called out to Kurt, raising his hand, causing him to flinch. It was subtle, yet didn't go unnoticed. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing of it. It was probably awkward enough for the smaller boy, singing with a dude that used to throw him in dumpsters and toss urine balloons at him.

"Dude, chill, I'm not going to hit you. We're like, teammates, now. I was just wondering, your place, or mine?" He put his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry?" Kurt slowly enunciated with a slow, confused blink. Just what was Puck getting at? What did he mean, "my place, or his?"

"The songs. Do we practice at my house, or yours?" He spoke more slowly so that there would be no more misunderstandings.

"Oh." His face fell, embarrassed. "My aunt Mildred and her husband are visiting for the weekend. They need a place to stay in Ohio while attending a funeral. It would be far too lively in my basement, to say the least." He spaced off as he said this, remembering the last time his aunt visited and they had to share rooms. She was an avid, brazen drinker. One day, she vomited on his bed, which his 'Single Ladies' leotard rested on. The situation had gotten extremely awkward when all she could remember was 'stumbling into your poor daughter's room, and then inexplicably passing out, nauseated.' The countertenor inwardly groaned. "God, that smell…" He absentmindedly murmured, eyes twinkling in disgust.

"So," 'what the hell man?' "My house?" Puck confusedly inquired. He had been tempted to ask how old this aunt of his was, and if she had a pool, but refrained.

Kurt weakly nodded, snapping out of his daze.

"Cool, well, here are the directions to my house. We can start tomorrow at seven." Puck handed Kurt the same paper from the hat, with his address and phone number messily written on the back. He gave one last look to the intimidated boy before their separation.

Kurt rang Puck's doorbell and patiently waited for a response. He bit his lip (he didn't do this often because that was bad for the skin, but damn it, he was nervous) while thinking of the assignment and what song to sing. He didn't feel comfortable around the jock, in fact; he found him beyond the pale most of the time, and preferred him when his mouth wasn't open. Just last night, he chose the song he would use and he was somewhat curious as to what song his partner chosen. He hoped he wouldn't choose something ridiculous or perverted; then again, as far as the muscular boy's performances went, he had adequate taste in music.

The door finally opened, revealing Puck wearing blue jeans and a plain red t-shirt. How typical, the smaller boy thought. He let Kurt in and heard him snort in mild disgust as he peered around the home. He furrowed his brows in annoyance.

"Has your mother ever thought about giving the living room and kitchen a synchronized color scheme because the dull brown isn't too welcoming? Say, maybe a rose red hue? That color simply radiates youthfulness. I've read in Vogue that-"

"Please stop. You're kinda making me want to bob for apples in a bucket filled with corrosive acid. Let's just go to my room and get on with the assignment." Puck was close to ripping his eyeballs out of their sockets and they hadn't even began yet. He watched as Kurt sheepishly clamped his lips together. Usually when girls began to annoy him with their voices, he would tune them out by thinking of milfs or how Super Mario was a bitch for not boning Princess Peach when he had the chance. And so he did. Sighing, he gestured to his guest to follow him upstairs.

Upon entering the bedroom, Puck promptly plopped on his unmade, queen-sized bed. His room was fairly plain, and masculine due to half-naked suspensions of supermodel posters, stashed video game systems, and displaced clothing. Wearing a bored expression, he would tentatively attempt conversation. "So, I was thinking of doing Maroon Five's 'Sunday Morning.' What's your song?"

Kurt gulped, a tad bit overwhelmed. Puck was going to sing one of his favorite songs. In fact, he was sure he had 'Songs about Jane' on one of his iPods, specifically dedicated to pop and alternative music. Screw what he said earlier, Puck had wonderful taste in music.

"May I?" He ventured to ask, gesturing to Puck's bed, only to receive a curt nod. As he sat beside the boy, he crossed his legs and would politely intertwine his hands. "Stevie Wonder's 'Ribbon in the Sky.' It's Mercedes' favorite song, and so I'm sure you've heard it before, especially during your…escapades of pretense with her. I, personally, find the song absolutely spellbinding."

"Cool," was Puck's one-worded, disinterested reply. He had listened to the song before, way before his quick relationship with Mercedes. It was awkward, singing to a guy in his room. A very feminine guy with shapely legs. Wait, since when was Hummel a guy? Isn't he like, an honorary girl or something like that? Yes, so, he began thinking at the back of his mind that Hummel looked absolutely doable in those tight pants. He chastised himself for having such fucked up thoughts. "Well, do you think we should sing the songs? You know, to get the assignment over with?"

"What a keen idea, actually. Did you think of it yourself?" Kurt dryly answered. "Good thing I brought my iPod, I just so happen to have the instrumental version on me." The boy would gracefully stand and straighten out his prim, purple cardigan sweater and tie before pressing play on his iPod Touch. "Thank God for built in speakers," he mused, standing now at the room's center.

Magnetically, Puck's attention fixed itself on the male diva. Kurt always had this amazingly powerful, feminine voice that was very pleasant to listen to, well, when he wasn't a gossip-monger or ranting about how everyday was an opportunity for fashion. He found his gaze slowly descending over the countertenor's body, namely his form fitting pants which almost, just almost left nothing to the imagination. It was then he really noticed how feminine and small the boy was, which was mildly strange; one would think he would notice after grasping his fragile body and tossing it into dumpsters. He had a nice ass, too. He found himself neglecting Kurt's song all together.

Now, he wasn't a queer (he had nothing against them or anything, really, he had a pretty cool gay cousin who lived in New York) and never would be, so why was he having these spontaneous thoughts all of a sudden? Maybe some gay guys had a supernatural ability to attract guys just as his epic ability to attract sexy milfs? No, that was silly, only the Puckmaster wielded such a fantastic special ability. Although he would never admit this to anyone due to his badassness, if Kurt Hummel were a chick, he'd totally get into his pants without a second word. He bit his bottom lip, internally rebuking himself for not paying attention. Well, it would have been fine as long as he didn't ask any questions as Rachel did. That diva wanted to make sure he was attentive at all times. A man like Puck couldn't keep his badassness focused for too long.

"A ribbon in the sky for our love," Kurt finished, growing meeker until the song came to an abrupt end. "Alright, any thoughts, suggestions? I personally think we both should-" He distorted his eyebrows in annoyance as he noticed Puck's lack of attention. If he wasn't going to listen, what was the point of singing the song? "Earth to Puck?" He snapped.

"Sorry, man," came the jock's distracted reply. "It's my turn. You might want to sit down for this, Hummel. My badassness might just blow you away into an inescapable oblivion." It was amazing how serious this boy could look when saying the most ridiculous things.

Kurt rolled his eyes and sat down with his legs crossed. "Oh, I doubt I'll be drifting anytime soon."

"Are you questioning my badassness?" Puck asked, offended. He furled his shirt sleeve up and then tightened his arm muscles. "No one questions my badassness and gets away with it - not even you, Hummel."

Kurt didn't know how to respond, he simply kept his smug, superior expression. "Well, are you going to shower me in your flagrant masculinity or sing?"

Puck straightened his shirt and confidently ambled to the center of the room.

"Sunday morning rain is falling,
steal some cover, shed some skin."

Kurt instantly felt pleasurably giddy at the boy's velvety, smooth voice. Yes, he was occasionally sharp, but his smooth vocal transitions made up for any flaws.

Once the song closed, the male diva let out a silent ovation. "That was quite-good, Puck. You should really consider exercising your voice more in Glee."

"Hey, I try, when Rachel isn't throwing bitch fits. But hey, whenever the Puckernator performs, he always rocks the house." Puck shrugged, flexing his body adoringly before ejecting the instrumental disc and turning off the small radio he used to play the song.

"I see," Kurt frowned; staring at his watch to find it was getting quite late. It was already 8:30. "Well, it's-" Pausing after noticing his partner's disappearance, he searched around the room before his eyes fell on the Xbox sitting in the corner in front of a flat screen. Sitting, holding a dark controller, he began what looked to be a fighting game. Soul Calibur? The opening credits enacted, illustrating flashy lights and the clashing of swords; the title read: Soul Calibur III. "Typical. Boys and their one-tracked minds," he smirked.

"Yo, Dude," came Puck's somewhat distracted voice. He was activating the second remote.

"Yes, what is it?" Kurt uttered while starting for the door.

"It's like, eight. You wanna play with me 'til later, like 9:30 or something?" He doesn't look back, commencing with the game.

The countertenor paused for a moment. This was a strange moment. Was Puck, his pre-Glee tormentor, inviting him to play videogames? He bit his lips in thought. Perhaps this was the boy's very own way of calling it truce or perhaps an invitation for a very tentative friendship? Whatever the reason may be, the boy was mildly shocked and more ruffled than when he noticed he couldn't fit his favorite pair of purple skinny jeans, and that was one of his darkest days ever.

The silence led the Mohawk'd boy to believe Kurt had left. He shrugged and continued with his game. "Guess not."

"Wait, yes, I'd be honored, your jockness." Kurt sat beside Puck, grabbing the white controller. He still couldn't believe he was actually about to sit and play games with one of his ex-bullies.

"You played this game before, right? I mean, this isn't 'Pretty in Pin-' "

"Of course, I've played. I only ever play it whenever my little boy cousins visit."

"Don't you think it's too badass for you?"

"Badass? Don't you mean, masculine? If so, then, no. I help my father build and repair cars. Nothing, and I mean, nothing is too 'bad-ass' for me. Anyways, I call Maxi. He's the best character."

"Yeah, 'cause he doesn't wear a shirt most of the time," Puck joked, then immediately wished he could have retracted the statement back into his mouth where it belonged. Kurt's cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed. He hadn't sensed any maliciousness in his comment, though it still bothered him. He didn't like when people who didn't understand made comments about his sexuality.

"Sorry, man," Puck sighed. "Listen, I know everyone thinks I'm a Lima-Loser, and that I'm a jerk, and that I'm selfish and that I'm a whore…"

"Go on," Kurt drolly responded, eyes closed, body tensed just in case the old tormentor returned and chose to bash him. A moment passed which seemed like forever. His eyes slowly opened revealing an upset Puck.

"Look, I may be all those bad things, but the two good things about me are that I'm a team player and that I always stick up for my teammates-my friends. I've noticed how you always flinch and distance yourself, and it's starting to bother me. I'm not going to hurt you anymore. We're in Glee together, right? So, we gotta stick together, like football and basketball. I know I've been a bully-"

"Yes, you have. Do you know how that made me feel? Being thrown in dumpsters, like I'm trash, and being slushied like I'm just some nobody?" Kurt courageously interrupted. Never did he turn his head to face Puck, his attention adhered forward at the TV screen. What surprised him was how collected he was. Why wasn't he screaming out his frustrations, venting out at the boy like he knew he damn well deserved to. It was because he was so used to the acts of random, unnecessary animosity that it rarely emotionally bothered him anymore, he supposed. "I won't explode for him…I won't explode for this…"

"Just because we're in Glee together doesn't mean we're a team, and it most definitely doesn't make us friends, if that's what you are insinuating," Kurt fiercely continued, face flushed.

Puck remained silent. Even his facial expression was unclear.

"I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, if I knew you were that cool, I wouldn't have tortured you." Puck cringed at that. He sounded like an ass. Hell, he was. It was apart of his charm.

"Yeah right. Your tough-guy image would have been ruined if you even attempted at understanding me. Everyone knows. It's slushy or be slushied. I've seen it."

Kurt heard a remote control drop on the carpet.

"I wanna start over. Let's be friends? Or hell, let's at least tolerate each other," Puck proposed. "Look at me, man, take in my badassness in such a serious moment." He noticed Kurt's pained, annoyed look and added, "I want you to know that I'm honest. I'm really, really sorry about last year, but Glee has changed me for the good. I'm not beating people up as much, anymore. I even got a job."

"People don't just change over a few nights-"

"I'm not saying it happened overnight-insert plural! I'm just saying Glee is helping me progress in bettering myself. Damn, I sounded like Dr. Phil or something…" He rambled.

"But yeah…" He looked back up, focused. "And, I want you and I to be friends." He was tempted to say Glee Club was the only thing he had left to make him happy, but he didn't want to stray from Kurt's attention as well as sound too pitiful. Puck could see it in Kurt's eyes, although he wouldn't admit, he was actually contemplating his plea. After all, who would say no to such a sexy badass?

"Alright," Kurt said, staring at Puck. "We can do this."

"Damn straight we can. We'd make the most badass friends ever. Hummel, with me, you'd get all the girls…" He paused. "…Never mind."

Kurt's cheeks grew a faint rosy tint. "Right, although I'm not going to forget what you've done to me, I'll allow you to make amends, starting with restarting this match. I saw you sneak an extra kick in, you Mohawk'd cheat."

Puck snickered good-naturedly.

"Alright, but, dude, we have to do this some other time. How 'bout next week?"

"Eh, I'll have to check my schedule."