A/N: Thank you so much for the great response to this story! I loved getting all those reviews on just the first chapter! I hope to see that trend continue!

Texts and Insanity

Chapter 2 – Kurt's Search

Kurt barely slept a wink, since he kept reading those texts over and over again, so by the time his alarm clock rang in the morning his mouth was dry and bitter, his eyes were crusted over, and he had a hell of a job getting presentable before he had to leave for class. It did not help that now that Kurt knew he had a secret admirer at school, he wanted to look his very best. His outfit had to be perfect. Those tight, dark plaid pants with the Gestapo boots, definitely. And a white dress shirt, a vest that contrasted with and yet matched the pants. Black tie. Grey fedora. Gallons of under-eye concealer. And so much hairspray that there was no way the hat would ruin his carefully arranged coif.

"Hey, Kurt," Mercedes smiled when she saw him as he approached his locker (thankfully without being dumped in the trash today). "You're lookin' fii-iine, baby boy."

"Thank you, Mercedes," Kurt nodded with a smile. "I'm feeling extra fabulous today."

"How come?" she asked, bumping her shoulder against his as they walked to class.

Before Kurt could answer, he got a new text from his secret admirer: Damn, Kurt! Those pants do your ass and your junk worlds of justice. Did you wear them for me?

You'll never know, Kurt wrote back with a stupid smile that Mercedes noticed, raising an eyebrow at him in question. Rolling his eyes, Kurt whispered in his best friend's ear, "I have a secret admirer."

"For real?" she asked as they sat down in class, waiting for Kurt's nod as the bell rang. "I am so jealous!"

"Alright everyone, eyes up front!" the teacher cried, her eyes especially on Kurt when he opened his mouth to respond to Mercedes. Choosing the better part of valor, Kurt snapped his mouth closed and tried to listen to the lecture, but instead he found his gaze traveling around the room, trying to figure out if any of these boys were the one who had contacted him the night before. He decided this whole 'secret admirer' business was going to drive him crazy before lunch.

It's bugging me, grating me
And twisting me around.
Yeah I'm endlessly cavin' in
And turning inside out.

Who could he be? This boy who thought Kurt was attractive? This boy who offered Kurt a glimpse at what he wanted – a real love life – but couldn't quite give it to him yet? It was infuriating. How could Baby do this to him? Getting his hopes up? Teasing him like this? It was a dream almost come true. If only he could do a little detective work and figure out who this guy was.

'Cause I want it now,
I want it now!
Give me your heart and your soul.
And I'm breaking out,
I'm breaking out.
Last chance to lose control.

Most kids got to have at least one high school romance before heading off to college, and Kurt figured he would never get to be one of those kids. Really, high school was the perfect chance to get that first – possibly disastrous – romance over with, because no matter how it went, he would be leaving this town soon. It was the last chance to figure out what he wanted before he got to college and everyone would expect him to have all that stuff figured out, along with his fashion sense, rapier wit, and well trained musical ear.

Yeah, it's holding me, morphing me,
and forcing me to strive.
To be endlessly cold within
and dreaming I'm alive.

Pining after Finn Hudson had worked out horribly and so over the summer, Kurt had told himself romance didn't matter. He'd walled off his heart, saving it for a time when he could truly let someone who wanted him in. Kurt never thought that it would or even could happen so soon. He never figured he would actually have a life in high school.

And now, maybe he did.

Third period was choir, which Kurt and Mercedes walked to together, like always. He had just enough time between classes to explain to his best friend that he wanted to keep this whole secret admirer thing to himself, "Since there's a very good probability that someone at this school is just fucking with me. I don't want to go on and on about having someone special if it's just going to blow up in my face tomorrow."

"I get that," Mercedes nodded. "You don't need to give the Pucks and Karofskys of this school more ammo."

"Puck hasn't been bad lately," Kurt pointed out, thinking about the several times that year he and Finn had gotten the jocks to lay off of Kurt in the locker room. "Not since you went out with him. You tamed that boy!"

"I think," Mercedes said with a smile, resting her head on his shoulder for a second as they walked through the choir room door, "that having the baby had a lot more to do with it."

"Alright, everyone," Mr. Schuester called as he walked in behind Kurt and Mercedes, "take a seat!"

The shuffling settled down a little as the teacher closed the door and handed a piece of music to Brad, the piano player. "Sectionals are in a month, you guys. We have to really nail down in the next week what songs we're doing so we can get the choreography perfect. You guys have got the vocals, and now it's about the presentation. Presentation killed us at Regionals last year, and we're not going to let that happen again, right?"

"Right, Mr. Schue!" Rachel spoke in a chipper voice from her seat in the front row, clutching Finn's hand in her lap like he would try to get away or something. Kurt and Mercedes rolled their eyes at each other. Everyone had lost the pool for how long Finn and Rachel were going to be together this time. Even Tina, who had guessed two months, had been wrong, since they were at four months and counting. Kurt had bet on nineteen days, but alas, had lost his five bucks to the house – aka, Santana.

"We don't know yet who we're competing against," Mr. Schue insisted, "but I have a feeling that we had some admirers on the Show Choir governing board that they're going to set us up with some stiffer competition this year. Plus, I'm about ninety percent sure that Coach Sylvester has something on the president of the board." The teacher rolled his eyes and Kurt thanked his lucky stars again that he'd chosen football over cheerleading.

For one, it gave him a more rounded extra-curricular résumé. And for two, it got him away from that witch of a cheerleading coach who, "still wasn't quite sure," about him and thought that he had hips like a pear. It was ridiculous. He had perfectly good boy hips, and he was proud of them. Kurt worshipped the fact that being on the football team automatically disqualified him for the Cheerios, because he couldn't very well change into and out of full pads whenever he was needed to kick a field goal.

Mr. Schuester then handed out parts for a new song (Kurt got the alto part, again), and told them to study up for a minute while he ran Puck through the accompaniment on the guitar. The jazz band had the whole week off while they practiced for their own invitational, so the glee club pretty much just had Brad, Puck, Artie, and Finn to fill in. Sitting behind the boy as Puck began to strum, Kurt saw a dark smudge on Puck's left hand as he curled it around the neck of his guitar. It didn't say anything intelligible, but it was just the right length and shape to spell out, 'tumescent' if you stared hard enough and tilted your head.

No fucking way! It couldn't be!

Kurt gasped and choked, unable to sing after inhaling his own spit. The others noticed his coughing right away and Puck looked back at him, one curious eyebrow raised. When their eyes met, Puck's a cold hazel and Kurt's watering blue, the jock gave no indication he knew why Kurt might be in such distress. Instead, he mumbled, "You alright, dude?" his voice lost amid the others as people rushed to Kurt's aid, patting him on the back until he stopped choking.

With a concerned look on his face, Mr. Schue said, "Rachel? Would you help Kurt to the drinking fountain?"

"Of course," Rachel smiled brightly. "You're absolutely right in assuming I need very little help singing this song perfectly."

"Great," the teacher said with an exasperated little sigh as Rachel grabbed Kurt and manhandled him out of the room.

Once they were outside, Rachel demanded, "You aren't getting sick, are you? Sectionals are going to be much more difficult this year, I'm sure of it, and we need all our singers in top shape. If you want, I can have my therapist write you a prescription for a heroic dose of antibiotics?"

"No, Rach," Kurt sighed, clearing his throat again before taking a sip of water from the fountain. "I just choked when I realized how ghastly you're dressed today," he sneered at her sweater vest, which had a pink Scottie dog silhouette on each breast.

"There's no need to get snippy!" the diva shot back. "We worked really hard over the summer to bury the hatchet now that I'm dating Finn. I want to be your friend, Kurt, and I really wanted to know if you're okay. You went sort of paler than normal."

Trying to brush his way past her, Kurt said, "Thank you for your concern, but I am fine." Even though I found out my secret admirer sext buddy is pure evil.

"What?" Rachel asked, leaning in closer as she looked up at him. "Did you just say something about a sext buddy? And an evil secret admirer?"

"No!" Kurt insisted, suddenly panicking. How had those thoughts passed the filter to his mouth? "Nothing!"

"Spill," she ordered. "As your friend and teammate, I have to know if something between you and one of the other glee club members is going to go screwy! Sectionals are just too close for anything to ruin our chances now. Is it the new kid?"

"I wish," Kurt scoffed, rolling his eyes when he thought about the sophomore football player who had joined Glee this year. "But no."

"Who?" Rachel asked again, pushing him away from the door, surprisingly strong for someone so little. "I'm not letting you back into rehearsal until you tell me."

"You're, like, the worst secret keeper ever to live, Berry," Kurt complained, trying once more to get around the girl. "You're the opposite of Fort Knox! A total trout mouth! Remember what happened with Finn and Quinn last time you blabbed?"

"You have to talk to someone!" she insisted. "My therapist always says secrets poison the soul!"

"I gave myself a month to keep this thing secret," Kurt remembered, and now that he knew who 'Baby' was, wondered if he still wanted to go through with it. "To get him to admit it in public."

"I'll help you," the girl suggested, frowning when Kurt widened his eyes in surprise and shook his head vehemently. "You're Finn's almost-step-brother now, Kurt. I want to help you. I want to show everyone I can be a good teammate and a good friend. A good person, despite my ambition."

Watching how sincere her expression became, Kurt couldn't help but find himself nodding and accepting her offer. Rachel squealed in delight and hugged him, which was unpleasant, before demanding again, "Who are we convincing?"

"This probably isn't going to work," Kurt murmured in her ear, "but I'm almost a hundred percent sure my secret admirer is Noah Puckerman."

"Oh, wow!" Rachel hissed, quickly scampering over to peer through the window in the choir-room door. Kurt hurried up next to her, trying to calm the beating of his heart as he looked into the room. Puck sat on one of the chairs, strumming along, eyes half on Mr. Schue, half on the sheet music sitting in front of him. His face and arms were like something out of a wet dream, and Kurt wondered why he never noticed it before. "He seems so straight! Are you sure?"

"Pretty damn sure," Kurt replied, seeing the smudge on Puck's hand again when the guitarist stopped playing and scratched his forehead. "If he is the admirer, he just started texting me out of the blue last night."

"Oh!" she cried, pulling a cell phone from somewhere on her person – Kurt couldn't imagine where, since neither her vest nor her short skirt appeared to have pockets. "I still have his number from when we dated very briefly. We should compare the numbers to make sure they're the same."

Kurt nodded and scrolled through his contact list to the entry he'd marked with a 'B' for Baby. He and Rachel compared their phones, both of them realizing, "It's the same number."

"Okay," Rachel said determinedly, her hands expressively pointed palms-down at her sides. "Since he's so sensitive about his jock status, you can't tell him you know who he is. Not right away. Can I see what he wrote you?"

"No!" Kurt cried, clutching his phone to his chest in sudden fear as she reached out to grab it. "It's personal!"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, jerking back. "Right! Sorry!"

"So I keep playing along for now?"

Rachel nodded, "As long as you still want this 'sext buddy' relationship now that you know who your admirer is..."

Looking back through the window, watching Puck strum his guitar and sing out a harmony to Finn's leading man bari-tenor, his suddenly-beautiful face looking pained with the emotion of the lyrics, Kurt realized that, "Yes. I still want this."

"Steel yourself, Kurt Hummel," Rachel murmured in his ear, "for the acting role of a lifetime."

And people called Kurt a Drama Queen!

In choir the day after Puck lost his mind, he thought maybe Kurt had figured out who his secret admirer was when he started choking. But after the boy returned to the classroom and never once treated him any differently than he had in the past, Puck decided he was still safe. Though he couldn't keep his fingers from itching to send another text, another little clue that would bring him and Kurt together like Puck dreamt about over and over again during school that day. And then during rehearsal. And then during football. And then in the showers…

Sitting in his car, watching Kurt drive away after football practice, Puck texted the boy again, saying: I've been thinking about you all day.

Hng n. Drvng. was Kurt's first response. The next one came a minute later: OK. Pulled over.

Alone?

Yeah. You?

Yeah. Puck sighed. Despite texting with Kurt, he really was alone, wasn't he?

I want to know more about you.

Gasping a little in panic, Puck forced himself to swallow and respond: Like what?

As you probably know, I'm very musically inclined. Are you?

Play guitar, Puck mentioned. But I can't sing. That should throw him off track. Keep Kurt from figuring out who he was until well after graduation. Yeah, that sounded reasonable.

So you're not in Glee Club?

No.

Oh, well. I'll figure you out someday, baby.

Use of that name made Puck shiver in delight, imagining Kurt whispering it to him like a real lover.

Do you like school? Kurt asked him.

Only woodshop and gym.

A meathead, huh?

Somewhat put off by Kurt's stereotyping of him, Puck continued: And English. I don't do well, because most of the time, I think school is for suckers, but I like some of the stuff the teacher makes us read.

You're a secret romantic, aren't you?

Sitting in the cab of his truck, alone and blushing, Puck replied: So?

No, baby. It's a good thing! Despite how hot and heavy we got started last night, I love romance.

Chuckling, Puck sighed and said: I guess I am your secret admirer. It only makes sense I'm a secret romantic, too.

So this isn't just about sex?

It's whatever you want it to be, Kurt. Puck replied with another sigh. Except public.

We'll work on that, baby.

Smiling at what he imagined would be the confidence in Kurt's voice if he had said that out loud, Puck wrote: I have to go now. I'll text you again tonight when the coast is clear.

K. Bye.

Puck had definitely gone insane.

After dinner, when both his mom and his sister were asleep, Puck got undressed and laid in bed, opening the picture Kurt had sent him for only the second time since he'd received it the night before. He still couldn't believe it had happened. It felt like a dream, but when he opened that picture it became so real again that all his blood rushed south. Puck only hoped that this picture wasn't a fake like Kurt had accused him of sending.

Further proving the theory that he was, in fact, insane, Puck texted Kurt again: I'm sitting here, looking at this picture you sent me, hard as rocks, and wondering what your cock tastes like.

Puck waited for what seemed like hours before he got a response: OMG! I was watching TV with my dad when you sent that!

How much did you blush?

I thought I was going to die!

Puck laughed to himself, covering his mouth with one hand to stifle the noise. You're so cute and innocent! I really like that about you, Kurt.

Don't make me sing Britney at you, baby!

What?

Her coming of age classic, Oops…I Did It Again. I could rock your pants off with that song. "I'm not that innocent…"

You could rock my pants off with Mary Had A Little Lamb, Puck replied, and he could feel the stupid grin spreading across his face.

What had happened to him? He was Puck, Puckzilla, Puckasaurus, the badass future rock star, and he was trading sexy quips with the most flamboyantly gay boy he'd ever met. Even if he was bi, shouldn't Puck be more into manly guys? Wouldn't that make more sense? Or was Kurt's high voice and round ass tricking Puck into thinking he was bi? Pulling up that picture Kurt had sent him, Puck decided, no. He really needed to get his hands on that cock.

Baby, you're sweet. Kurt replied. I really want to kiss you. Can you at least describe what your face looks like, so I can imagine it?

My face is awesome, Puck replied, not willing to say any more than that. But not pretty like yours.

I'm going to have to imagine someone else's face when you write about kissing me, then.

Like who? That Finn guy you're always staring at? Shit, that had probably given away too much. And now Puck was jealous. He wanted Kurt thinking about his face, or at least his junk, since he wasn't ready to reveal his identity yet. Not thinking about freaking Finn Hudson's face!

No, silly. Finn's like my brother now. Besides, I could never crush on someone who would have the grievous lack of taste needed to fall in love with Rachel Berry.

Puck buried his laughter in his arm again, writing back: Lol, dude. Thanks, I needed that. Still curious, he asked: So whose face do you think about?

I know it sounds crazy, Kurt wrote, but lately I've thought Noah Puckerman is really cute, in a juvie-criminal sort of way. Do you know him?

Both steaming at the insult and crowing at the fact the Kurt was attracted to the real him, Puck found his hands shaking as he typed back: Yeah, I know him. Isn't he super-straight?

Ha, ha! Yeah! I have no chance with him, baby. But if you don't let me know what you look like, I'll have to imagine you look like him.

Surprisingly, I'm okay with that.

If you say so, baby!

God, what was Puck doing? Being Kurt's secret admirer when he knew Kurt wanted the real him? Or, wanted his body, anyway. Maybe this time, he wanted someone to want him for more than his looks or his mad skills in bed. Maybe he wanted someone who would listen to the real him, before they found out what he looked like. Maybe that was especially important with Kurt.

What the hell? He was Puck! He should be getting whatever he wanted, from whoever he wanted and damn the consequences. Too bad he still feared ending up as miserable and looked down upon as the loser geeks at McKinley high always appeared to be. Maybe in a few months, the real Puck would be back and this whole thing with Kurt could be just a weird memory of youthful experimentation.

What a fucking cop-out that sounded like!

Unable to just leave the conversation at that, Puck wrote, What are you doing right now?

Avoiding my homework. You?

Same. Wishing I was man enough to tell you who I am.

I'm wishing that too! Kurt wrote, and Puck felt even worse about himself until Kurt followed up by saying, But I can wait for a little while. Until you trust me enough to say it.

What if I'm not the trusting type? Puck wrote, thinking about his dad and his mom's bad taste in men and even Quinn. What if I've only ever been burned by the people I care about?

It took a long time for Kurt to respond, so much so that Puck had actually given up and started doing some of his homework in the hopes that it would bore him to sleep. But then, his phone rumbled and Kurt's message said: If we give up on trusting people, we give up on love, baby. Could you try to trust me?

Feeling like he'd been socked in the gut and told he'd won the lottery at the same time, Puck let an uneasy smile onto his face. This wasn't just about sex for either of them, was it?

I'll try.

Song used: "Hysteria" by Muse

So, what did you think? Props to one reviewer for guessing how Puck's identity would be revealed! Any guesses for where the story's going to go from here? Please don't forget to review!