Love In Orange Dayglo

by emo-geek-87

Kurt Hummel gets six months in Lima Minimum Security Prison. Puck is his cellmate. SLASH. Please read the more detailed AN

1. Chapter 1

Title: Love In Orange Dayglo (Part 1 of ?)
Author: emo_chick_87
Pairing,Character(s): Puck/Kurt
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2339
Spoilers: Season 1
Genre: Angst/Fluff/Smut/AU
Warnings: dub-con and non-con are the major ones and I'll post more as I finish each chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Summary: Kurt Hummel gets six months in Lima Minimum Security Prison. Puck is his cellmate.
AN: This is a fill for the glee_kink_meme. This is just the set-up for some hardcore sex stuff. Kink, like whoa. I do want to let people know that none of the non-con will happen between Puck and Kurt. Also Kurt will NEVER be anally raped. I just couldn't do it. Please let me know what you think because I left my comfort zone about eighty miles back.

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The orange jumpsuit is rough against his soft skin. The ankle shackles dig into bones and make sitting in the holding room uncomfortable. Kurt Hummel was always the one that had a good head on his shoulders and was going places. He was the kid that was going to get out of Lima with his dignity and virginity in tact. But that was before Jake. Before attempted money laundering and plea deals. That was before a six months sentence to be served in full at the Lima Correctional Minimum Security Prison became Kurt's future.

The cavity search was the first time anybody's fingers but his own were up his ass. In fact it was the first time since he was a kid that anyone had ever seen him naked. The long ride to the outskirts of town made Kurt realize that his virginity was not something he would be leaving after his sentence with. He knew what he was to people inside. He'd heard all about dropping soap. He just hoped to find someone that he could be attracted to. He knew that was probably unlikely but Kurt Hummel had always been a dreamer.

They told him he would be put in gen pop. All the walls were a sickly green color and the entire place reeked of delousing powder and sweat. His cell was empty when he got there. They told him his cellmate was in the yard for the next hour so he better enjoy the privacy while he had it. Sitting on the bottom bunk brought tears to his eyes and he tried to fight them back. The wool blanket underneath him was worse than the scrub-like clothing they had given him to change into. He stares at the sheets and gets lost in wondering what the thread count is. He's pulled out of his thoughts by the loud slide of the cell door opening.

"Hey, kid. That's my bunk." A deep voice barked.

Kurt mumbled his apologies before pulling himself up to the top bunk and leans his back against the cinder block wall. He studies his fingernails as he pulls his legs up to sit cross legged. A dark hand comes into view over Kurt's lap.

"My name's Puck. Whatrya in for?" Puck drawled, his eyes studying the long expanse of the kid's pale neck.

"I'm Kurt and I got in trouble with some money and a guy that didn't tell me what we were doing wasn't on the up and up."

Kurt turns shy eyes up to look at the man he will spend the next six months with. He loses his ability to think of a moment while he takes it all in. His height is the first thing Kurt notices. Dark olive skin shines with the perspiration he acquired in the yard. Kurt can see the hard muscles that are still twitching softly. Dark brown eyes that are deep and surrounded by thin lines, even though Kurt can tell he can't be that much older than him. A full bottom lip that slips over the top lip to lick away the sweat that was still clinging there. This is the kind of boy that would make him go weak in the knees back home. This is the kind of boy that makes him glad he's already sitting down because he's pretty sure he's the kind of boy that would make his knees go weak in here too.

"Ahhh...so you're white collar. You musta pissed someone off to end up in here instead of one of the cushy places on the hill."

Kurt just shrugs because he has no idea why he got sent where he got sent. He was never really in control of where he would end up. Puck gives him a long hard look before arching his eyebrow upwards and shrugging too.

"Just remember, this is my bunk. You're not allowed on it unless I want you there. Got it?" Puck's voice loses the softness it just had and the edge of it feels rough against Kurt's skin.

Puck doesn't wait to see Kurt nod his agreement. He just lays down in his bunk. Fifteen minutes later, the guards call for lights out and the entire block is blanketed in pitch blackness. Thirty minutes later, he can hear the telltale sound of rustling blankets and heavy breathing coming from underneath him. His body betrays him and thrust futilely into the hard plank of his mattress. Forty minutes later, a small gasp escapes his mouth before he can stop it and he comes hard and heavy in his pants. Puck's groan follows soon after and he chuckles in a way that lets Kurt know that Puck knows what just happened. Fifty minutes later, Kurt hears Puck's soft snores and lets himself surrender to the tears that have been waiting to fall. Kurt cries himself to sleep as he marks one day off on the calender in his head. 1 down, 180 to go.

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The next morning weighs heavy on Kurt and he wakes up at 4 am. The block stays dark until the lights come up at 6. In the two hours between then Kurt listens to the sounds of skin slapping against skin mixing with groans. Some of them are obviously from pleasure. Others carry an ambivalent sound that could be pain. The thought of it rushes fear heavy down his spine and he clenches his eyes shut tight, curling the pillow over his ears until all he can hear is his own heartbeat.

He has his eyes shut so tight that he doesn't even register the lights coming on and startles roughly when Puck touches his back to shake him awake. He flips over and stares at Puck with wild eyes, his hands raised in surrender. Puck just gives him a sideways smile.

"C'mon, pretty boy. It's time to get down to mess. We only get a half hour to eat and you'll be gettin' served last with the rest of the punks so you better at least be in the front of that line."

Kurt follows close behind Puck and tries to hide the way his body is protesting about having to sleep on the hard, unforgiving mattress. He notices the way Puck keeps throwing glances his way to make sure that Kurt is still following close. Something about that makes the large, loud room less scary.

The voices boom and bounce off the high ceilings. It reminds Kurt of the cafeteria he would hide in the corner of during high school. Puck breaks away from him and gestures to the line Kurt is supposed to get in. He watches as Puck fist-bumps and high-fives a couple of large men that are about his age. Kurt can see the smile is forced and that his eyes keep flitting over to where Kurt is still standing. He still hasn't made his way to his side of the line and he feels like he's drowning in the sea of men that are much bigger than him.

He starts to hyperventilate and he can feel his head starting to swim. A boy slighter than him places a slender hand on his forearm. The boy beside him has eyes that are marred by dark bags and his lip is split in three different places. Kurt can see the healing cut on his eyebrow and his forefinger is stained yellow with nicotine.

"You can't just stand there. You haven't been claimed yet. If you're not careful the Aryan Nation will get to you first. Trust me, you do not want that to happen."

Kurt lets himself be pulled back into the line and he knows to keep his head down when a guy walks past him sniffing the air above his hair. As he's walking away, Kurt can see the swastika tattooed on the back of his neck. He tries to blame the cold metal of the tray he's handed for the shiver that rolls through him.

The kid that talked to him tells Kurt that his name is Tyler and he'll try to help him. From the table Tyler claims Kurt looks back at the line he just left. He sees boys that look like him. Fair skin, small statures for men, all look like they need to be protected. He can easily see the ones that are happy with the way they're protected. It glows out of them. They smile at the people who own them from across the mess hall. He can also see the ones that aren't happy with their arrangements. They look like they are fighting to disappear into the wall. They have the same sunken eyes that Tyler has. They wear similar marks. He catches Puck's eye from across the hall. As much as he hates himself for it, he hopes he doesn't end up like Tyler.

Kurt is halfway through his mushy oatmeal when he hears the loud clang of a fist being brought down on the metal table across the room. Tyler drops his spoon and spits the bread he has out of his mouth. His eyes go wild and his shoulders tense in anticipation. Kurt can see his ears straining. A few tense seconds pass before the fist comes down for three sharp taps. Tyler closes his eyes briefly before squaring his shoulders and getting up from the table. His steps are careful and Kurt sees the way all the eyes in the room seem to focus on Tyler. He gets to the table across the room and stands in front of the guy that sniffed Kurt before. The guy gives his head a sharp tilt and Kurt gasps in horror as Tyler sinks to his knees. He watches the guards turn their heads away and thick fingers wrap tightly around Tyler's dirty blonde hair. Kurt winces as Tyler is pulled under the table by his hair. The loud sound of Tyler gagging echoes through the room. Ever single person has gone completely silent except for the guys at the table Tyler is under.

Time seems to slow until Kurt sees a head peek out from under the table. Tyler shuffles back to the table. His lips are puffy and swollen. His cheeks are an angry red color and his knuckles are still white. Kurt gapes at him while he sits down. He picks up the spoon he dropped and scoops up the bread he spit out. When Kurt watches him eat the soggy bread he notices that there is a fresh cut on Tyler's lip.

Kurt can't eat the rest of his oatmeal. So he just shuffles it around his plate until Puck picks him up at the table. Following close behind Puck back to the cell makes Kurt feel anxious. He doesn't want to end up like Tyler.

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All Kurt can see from his top bunk is the poster on the far wall. A candy apple red 1967 Mustang. The little boy that spent his first twelve years buried elbows deep in cars he can feel his fingers itch. He can practically feel the use-warmed metal under his hands. The way he knows he can make it purr. The sense memory of butter cream leather invades his nose and removes all evidence of musk and mushy oatmeal. He can feel his breathing deepen. It mixes with the sound of lead pencil tracing over paper in the bottom bunk. The fluid sound of the lines tells Kurt that Puck can't be writing. Every inch of him wants to lean down and peek but he stops himself. Instead he imagines warm summer wind in his hair and Puck sitting next to him in the passenger's seat. He dozes to sleep wondering what they could be if the situation was different.

Puck lets him sleep until it's time for lunch. In a way he's happy because he lost half a day to dreams. On the other hand, he didn't have anytime to prepare himself for what might happen back in that room. The noise is louder this time but the tension that ran down the walls that morning was replaced with laughter. Everyone seemed to be happier. Even Tyler was smiling when he sat down beside Kurt. Stealing a few of bites of Kurt's apple before handing it back to him.

"Hey, bub. I think you might be my good luck charm." he said, winking.

Kurt could only respond with a puzzled look and a subtle head cock.

"I got traded today." Tyler was smiling wide. He gestured across the room to a tall guy sitting with Puck. "Jasper sold me to that one. His name's Finn. Everyone says he's not like most of the others. He treats his boys right. You gotta keep your fingers crossed for me, bub. Without you it would have never happened. Puck lent Finn the cigarettes to buy me. Nice and cute to boot. Imagine my luck."

Tyler dug into the pile of food in front of him and chewed with his mouth open. That morning Kurt hadn't been able to hear the slight southern drawl that cradled Tyler's speech but it reminded him of home. Of his mother and Dolly Parton. French toast breakfasts and singing iCoat Of Many Colors/i with syrup on his fingers. Kurt was so lost in the warmth that flooded his belly that he didn't see the look burning across the room from Jasper.

He doesn't know that Puck is about to be sent to solitary for a scuffle that broke out over stolen tater tots. He doesn't know that Jasper has his eye on him. He doesn't know that Puck had saved him three times already. He doesn't know what awaits him in the shower the next day.

So he just smiles and catches eyes with Puck across the room. When Puck smiles back, Kurt thinks that he just might be able to make it through this whole prison thing.