Author's Note: Cute fic I though of while I was trying to get to sleep. Disclaimer here, you know that I don't own this show, or any of these songs. Just borrowing them for my own creative uses. And I pledge for a creative licence. Italics is singing. And one swear word.
Playlist: Iris – Goo Goo Dolls
Sunday Morning – Maroon 5
You Know This One?
"And I don't want the world to see me,
Cause I don't think that they'd understand.
When everything's made to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am."
Delicate fingers glided over piano keys and they played the final notes of the song. Soft applause filled the room and Kurt turned around, an expression between absolute terror and shock written on his face as he saw the mohawked footballer standing there. Puck walked into the practice room.
"You know Hummel, you're not a bad singer. Even with such a girlie voice."
"T-thanks P-P-Puck," stammered Kurt, a little cautious of what would happen next.
"Geez, Hummel, you sound like Tina before the whole wheelchair episode. Man, I still don't know what went down. Do you?"
Kurt gave an awkward laugh, shook his head and turned back to the piano.
'What the hell Kurt? Why are you being so pathetic?' he scolded himself. He had plenty of witty comebacks and retorts when he was being bullied, and most of the day. Why so timid now?
'Maybe it's because this is when you're vulnerable,' said the voice at the back of his head.
Kurt sighed and focused on the piano. It was true. Most of the time, he was this bitchy, slightly annoying but totally reliable guy with clever comebacks for any situation. But there were times, like this one, were there were no bitchy comments or smirks, just Kurt. He shook his head, bringing him out his thoughts and started to play again, not caring if Puck made fun of him afterwards. A simple, sad melody drifted throughout the room and Kurt completely forgot where he was, who was there and any sense of time. It was just Kurt.
Puck, on the other hand, whilst Kurt was berating himself had been sitting down on one of the benches flipping through a note book and plucking random strings on his guitar. When Kurt started to play his song, Puck stoped and stared and observed the smaller teen. Puck had been a little off put by the lack of response from Kurt, but pushed it aside and continued on his way. But whilst Puck was looking at Kurt play, he realised something. This was the true Kurt. The bitchiness and the designer clothes, yeah, it was Kurt, but this, the small, vulnerable teen playing by himself, showed Puck that Kurt was just a person with feelings, and not someone who liked to be dumped in the dumpster every second day.
The melody suddenly stopped and the two teens made eye contact with one another. Kurt just stared, his eyes burning with emotion, while Puck looked away back down to his guitar, but not before noting each emotion that Kurt was displaying.
"Go on. Laugh. Push me towards the nearest dumpster. Go across the road to buy a slushie to throw in my face. I'll be waiting," Kurt said, bitterness tainting his voice. He turned away and was so concentrated on his own thoughts that he didn't notice that Puck had walked over and sat right down next to him on the piano stool.
"I'm not going to laugh. That was beautiful. Where did you learn to play like that?"
Kurt turned to Puck, tears forming at his eyes, and shook his head in response. Puck placed a hand on the other's shoulder as a comforting gesture.
"Please."
Kurt sniffed and twisted his body so he was fully facing Puck.
"When I was little, my mum used to play the piano to me every single day. She would always say 'The piano is a lover's instrument, and can be twisted in any way'. I never knew what the words meant, but they stuck. Then, she got sick, and had to stay at the hospital. Every night she was there, I would cry myself to sleep. And then one morning, I was rushing to see her, to show her a flyer for a local piano concert, but… when I got there, the nurses told me that she had died the previous night. I dropped the flyer and ran all the way home, never even caring that Dad had driven me there."
Kurt stopped talking, took a couple of deep breaths to steady hid voice and continued.
"So, a year after her death, I asked my dad if, maybe, I could take piano lessons. He was hesitant at first, but he realised that playing it may be a way to mend our broken lives. I've never missed a lesson, ever. That is, until I stopped taking classes a couple of years ago."
Puck listened intently to the story, his heart going out to Kurt. He promised to himself in that very moment that he wouldn't bully the other teen so much from now.
"I'm so sorry. I really I am. I never knew."
A sigh escaped from Kurt's lips.
"It's okay Puck. No-one else knew, not even Mercedes. Just, one thing. I know we not friends, but I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone this. For me," said Kurt as he rubbed his hands over his eyes. Puck nodded solemnly. Kurt gave and shaky laugh and got up off the piano stool.
"Okay, no more tears. We never exactly established why you are here, at school, after hours. Why is that?" Kurt asked with a bit more of his usual bravado. Puck got up off the stool as well.
"Well, Drama King," Puck started, the mocking tone returning to him, " I was going to practice on my guitar over there, but I got involved in your whole life story!"
A giant grin was on Puck's face and one started to form on Kurt's too.
"Oh, well, sorry! You were the one who asked!"
Puck stopped grinning. A confused look crossed his face.
"Dammit. You're right, no I have no comeback! I know…I'll tackle you instead!"
Before Kurt knew it, Puck was running toward him. He flinched but he was pulled fairly gently to the ground and being tickled to breathlessness by Puck. He tried screaming out for the footballer to stop, but Puck was laughing and having to much fun. Soon, though, Kurt managed to gather enough energy to push Puck's chest away from his own body. They both sat up, leant against the bottom step and just breathed. Puck was still laughing, although a lot quieter, and Kurt was clutching his side.
"That hurt you know."
"You wuss Hummel. That wasn't even hard."
Puck turned around to face Kurt, only to be greeted with a smiling face. Puck smiled back.
"It's almost five. Guess you really didn't get a lot of practice done today Puck. Sorry."
"It's alright kid…."
"KID?!" Puck laughed at Kurt's reaction.
"Haha. Sorry. Couldn't help it. But seriously, it's okay. Tomorrow I'll get some done."
Puck stood up and turned around to offer a hand to help Kurt up. Kurt accepted it and jumped into the air by the force of Puck's pull.
"Lightweight." Kurt blushed. Puck gave a small smile and went to get his guitar. Kurt battled with himself for a moment before shouting out.
"Puck! Uh, look, if you want to practise tonight, you can come back to my place. My dad's out until about eleven, so we wouldn't be disturbing anyone…"
Kurt's voice faded away with the end of the sentence. Puck looked over him, criticized his motives and eventually just shrugged.
"Okay."
"I mean if you don't want to, I mean that's…what?"
"I said okay. You're not such a bad guy Hummel. I'm sorry for all the shit I've put you through and if today has shown me anything, I want to get to know you better. BUT…. If anyone finds out, you will be dumpster diving for a while. Deal?"
Kurt looked think he was seriously thinking about it. Puck rolled his eyes.
"One day, you won't be afraid to be seen hanging out with me. Or working for me. But, deal."
Puck smiled and laughed. Kurt joined in.
"Come on then. Bring your guitar. You got a car?" Puck nodded.
"Good. You can follow behind."
***
"You know this one?"
Kurt sat at his piano and Puck leaned on its side, much to Kurt's displeasure, strumming his guitar along with the song Kurt was playing on the majestic baby grand.
"Sunday morning, rain is falling,
Steal some covers, share some skin,
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable,
You twist to fit the mould that I am in,
But things just get so crazy, living life gets hard to do,
And I would gladly hit the road, get up and go if I knew
That someday it would bring me back to you,
That someday it would bring me back to you,
That may be all I need,
In darkness she is all I need,
Come and rest your bones with me,
Driving slow on Sunday morning,
And I never want to leave.
Fingers trace your every outline,
Paint a picture with my hands,
Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm
Change the weather, still together when it ends,
That may be all I need,
In darkness she is all I need,
Come and rest your bones with me,
Driving slow on Sunday morning,
And I never want to leave.
But things just get so crazy, living life is hard to do,
Sunday morning, rain is falling and I'm calling out to you,
Singing someday it'll bring me back to you,
Find a way to bring myself home to you,
That may be all I need,
In darkness she is all I need,
Come and rest your bones with me,
Driving slow on Sunday morning,
And I never want to leave."
The notes were played and faded out as the two boys finished the song on smiling and happy note.
"Still can't get over you know Maroon 5 songs that well," Kurt said to Puck as he offered him a drink from the kitchen.
"Yeah, well, there are some secrets left in Noah Puckerman's life, believe it or not," answered Puck, his tone bordering the line of sarcasm.
"Yes, well, the mysterious Noah Puckerman may want to hurry with his drink, or the father of the boy whose house you are in will be here and interrogate you."
"Whaa?"
"Just hurry up with your drink Puck. Dad will be home soon, and when he is, and when he sees you, he will question you until your ears bleed."
Puck grimaced.
"Ouch."
Kurt nodded. Puck skulled the drink, handed the glass back to Kurt, picked up his guitar and started to head towards the front door when the sound of a 4 wheel drive pulled up outside. Puck slowly returned to the kitchen.
"Hummel! I think your dad has returned."
Kurt swore under his breath. He headed to another room of the house and motioned Puck to follow him. Puck obliged. He ended up in the Hummel's lounge room.
"Okay, when you hear my dad call out my name, pretend to be packing your bag and just about to leave. Hopefully he can avoid a full-frontal interrogation."
Puck nodded. It sounded like a good plan to him. A couple of minutes he heard what must have been Kurt's dad call out, and after see Kurt mouth "GO!" at him, he followed the plan.
"Kurt, I brought home some…oh. Hello. Kurt, whose this?" Mr Hummel asked his son, looking directly at him. Puck saw Kurt swallow before speaking.
"A friend of mine from school. I was helping him with a song we're singing in Glee."
"Ahh. And his name is?"
"Noah Puckerman, sir. Nice to meet you." Puck extended his out to Mr Hummel. Mr Hummel took it and gave it a quick but firm shake.
"It's Burt."
"Well, Dad, I know you just got home and everything, but I said I'd see Noah out, so I'll be back in soon. Okay?"
Burt looked between the two teens and just shrugged.
"I'll be upstairs waiting."
Kurt nodded and quickly made his way through the kitchen to get to the front door. Puck nodded his goodbye to Burt and quickly followed the other teen out.
"Phew, that was close."
"You said it."
"Well, thanks for tonight. It was great. See you tomorrow Kurt."
"See you Noah."
And with that, Puck got into his car, gave a quick wave to Kurt and drove off. Kurt leant on the door frame as he watched his former bully drive away.
'The piano is a lover's instrument, and can be twisted in any way' Kurt thought to himself.
While he and Puck were definitely not lovers, he finally understood what his mum meant. The piano was the start of this whole night, and as Kurt went back inside, he was sure it was the start to an uneasy yet strong friendship.