Uhhh, ok so I don't technically have xBleedingBlackRosex 's permission to write this, but I'm doing it as a (really) late Christmas-that-morphed-into-Valentines present, and an attempt to spur her to keep writing Dedication. This is me on my hands and knees, begging her to write the next chapter. (You hear that, girl? This is me begging! With popcorn and chocolate and Klisses! Not that I don't understand the hectic life of school and ect. Because I do. That's why this is SO LATE…. So no pressure… I just wanted to give this as a gift.)
If you haven't read Dedication, THEN FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, READ IT PEOPLE! It will change your life. So, so much. Plus this thing won't make no sense unless you read Dedication first.
In this, Puck already knows what happened to Kurt. This is NOT Puckurt! If anything, this is bigbrother!Puck and snakry!Kurt. xBleedingBlackRosex mentioned in the 6th chapter of Dedication that Puck caught/saw Kurt in a moment of weakness. Now, I'm pretty sure this isn't the scene she's planning, but I had a dream (I actually dreamed this crazy thing… see what you've done to me?) and this kinda begged to be written. I finally broke down and wrote it while in my Psychology class. What does that say about me?
ANYway, xBleedingBlackRosex, if you want me to take this down, I will. I just thought you'd enjoy it. And it was fun to write. Thanks for letting me borrow them (borrowed without permission) for a bit. I promise you can have them back exactly the same as you left them. Sans one red football jersey. You'll see.
I own nothing. Especially not Glee, its characters, or its ideas. Pity.
XXX
Puck slammed the girl's bathroom door open and stormed in, locking it behind him. His angry gaze zeroed in on the slim boy facing away from him by the sinks. He could just make out the boy's face in the mirror. It was pale, even by the white boy's standards, and his eyes were slate grey. Expressionless, even though he gripped the sink he leaned against with both hands. He didn't acknowledge the taller boy, but his whole body trembled as he stared himself down in the mirror.
"Kurt man, where the hell have you been? I've- what is that?" He cut himself off, staring open mouthed at the slender, lithe shoulders ensconced in a bright red jersey. Puck's eyes travelled from where the shirt almost reached Kurt's knees and hung loosely on his frame up to the bold white name emblazoned on the back across the boys' shaking shoulders.
Karofsky.
"What. The. Hell." Puck growled, hands clenching into fists. Kurt's shoulders jerked, but he kept his grey eyes on his own reflection. His knuckles turned white.
"What's the point of fighting it, Noah? Other sluts in this school wear the jock's jerseys; why shouldn't I? After all, I'm just his who-"
Puck lunged before Kurt could finish the hateful word, taking the red jersey in clawed hands and tugging savagely. Kurt was spun around, crying out and slapping ineffectually at the bigger boy's hands.
"Let me go right now! Right now, Puck!" Kurt shrieked, eyes wide, but Puck ignored him. Snarling in rage, Puck took a firmer hold on the jersey's neck line and jerked. The sound of tearing cloth overpowered their labored breathing. Kurt let out a sob as his chest and back were bared. Puck literally ripped the fabric from Kurt's body and threw it to the floor.
Kurt tore himself free from the large hands, tears leaking down his cheeks as he leaned back against the sinks and covered his chest with his arms.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Puckerman?" he screeched angrily, but Puck could easily see the animalistic fear in the boy's eyes. But he didn't back down.
"You're not a whore, Kurt! Goddammit! What is wrong with you?" Puck bellowed. If no one heard them out in the hall, it would be a miracle.
"I don't know, Noah. Maybe I'm just throwing myself a pity party." Kurt muttered, voice lowered, arms still protective over his bare torso.
"Yea, no shit." Puck grunted, stepping forward.
"Fuck you, Noah! Fuck you." Kurt snarled, eyes lighting up in impotent fury. His fists clenched, but otherwise he didn't move. Puck froze. "You have no clue what I'm going through! You have no right to judge me! You have no right to corner me in here, in the girl's bathroom, and tear off my clothes! You have no right to tell me what to think or what to do or what to wear! None, do you hear me? None!" Kurt's face was bright red, and he cut himself off with a gasp, covering his mouth with a shaking hand. He was still glaring at Puck, eyes bright and fiery, but Puck saw the fear, the vulnerability, and knew.
A very much whole and happy Kurt, the Kurt of just a month ago would never have lost control like that. The Kurt of last month would be standing tall in one of his frilly, knee-length shawls and soundly berating Puck on all the ways he wasn't fit to breath the same air as Kurt, all the way from his Mohawk to his muddy Nikes. Not shrieking and swearing and almost-crying in the girl's bathroom.
Sighing, Puck's shoulders slumped in the face of Kurt's rigidity, his cry for help. He stepped forward, right into Kurt's personal space and Kurt let him, looking up with watery blue eyes. Forgetting that a year ago, he never would have been caught dead so much as brushing a hair on 'Homo Hummel's' head, he wrapped Kurt up in a hug. He felt the smaller body tense, but he refused to let go.
"You're just breaking all kinds of boundaries today." Kurt remarked, muffled into Puck's shoulder. Puck chuckled and was pleased to feel the boy relax marginally, obviously happy to have a solid, warm body to lean against. Puck didn't quite know what to do with that knowledge.
"Don't think this makes us, you know, boyfriends, or anything. You're Finn's bro, and that makes you my little bro." Puck grumbled. Kurt snorted and let out a single laugh and Puck smiled, feeling the tension leave his own body as well.
Kurt took a deep breath and pulled back, Puck letting him sidestep around him. Kurt strolled over to his Burberry satchel where it looked like he'd chucked it before Puck had arrived. Puck watched the long, pale back and dark bruises disappear behind a long sleeve white button up shirt and grey pinstriped vest.
"So are you going to take us up on our bodyguard idea now?" Puck asked as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, watching Kurt as he went back to the mirror to fix his hair. He saw the blue eyes roll in the reflection.
"No, Noah. I can handle the Neanderthals here all on my own." He flicked a few hairs back into place and sighed. Puck tensed.
"It's the idiots at that reform school I'm worried about." He finally admitted.
"Are they bullying you there too?" Puck growled.
"No," Kurt laughed, "The exact opposite actually. If anything, they're too friendly." Puck raised an eyebrow, just barely catching the words "horny" and "hobbit" as Kurt grumbled to himself. Kurt caught the look, but stood up straight finally and hoisted his satchel.
'Don't worry about it, Noah. I can handle it." And with that, Kurt breezed out the door and into the bustling hallway.
Puck stayed in the bathroom, staring down at the ruined red fabric on the floor, mind racing.
"Exactly how does one get sent to a reform school?"
XXX
WHY AM I DREAMING THIS?
Is it sad how happy I am with how this turned out, though? I'm deciding no. I really hope you liked it, xBleedingBlackRosex! Again, if you want me to take this down, just let me know. It'll disappear, never to be seen again. I won't even read it unless I'm in my blanket fort with all the windows and doors locked. Hmm, I wonder how hard it would be to make a blanket fort in my dorm room? Must go and ponder. And experiment. Happy (late) Valentines! And I do hope I've inspired you to write more in Dedication. Love and Klisses. And chocolate.