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Chapter Two:

Almost Doesn't Count

Standing at Mercedes' locker, twirling his bangs in his finger Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes as Karofsky and Azimio strolled past and made yet another uninspired and disparaging comment regarding his sexuality.

Slamming her locker after hurling a few choice curse words at the pair, Mercedes turned to Kurt and asked, "Want me to end them for you?"

Wrapping an arm through hers while walking towards the exit he said, "I would, but then we'd have the terrible task of disposing the bodies and ape blood just does not go with these new Stella McCartney's." Lifting his leg in front of the shorter girl so she could appreciate the work of art that was his boot, he continued, "And besides, I'd have to testify on your behalf during the trial and I just don't have the money set aside this month for a proper 'court outfit'."

"If you say so," Mercedes laughed. She paused to click her Bluetooth ear piece on as she continued walking with Kurt. "You've got Mercedes," she said.

Taking this momentary lapse in her attention to update his tumblr fashion blog on his iPhone Kurt heard Mercedes say goodbye to her caller as they entered the parking lot of McKinley High.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"Brittany. She's really nervous about this number me and her have to do for glee. I told her she has a good voice and we could sing together, but she wants me to do Adele's new song while she dances in the background. That girl has no self-confidence when it comes to singing," she sighed. "So how are things with you and Puck?"

Grimacing as he remembered the moment earlier in the day when Mr. Schue announced him and Puck as duet partners Kurt said, "Fine. He's coming over to my house later on today to go over some song choices."

"Don't let Finn try and talk you out of doing a duet with Puck now like he did with you and Sam. If he does just let me know and I'll be more than happy to knock some sense into that square shaped head of his."

"He was just looking out for the club last time. We really needed a twelfth member. It was nothing personal," Kurt reasoned.

"Mmm-hmm," she said through pursed lips. "I know he's your brother and all now, but don't think for a minute that I won't knock the scalloped teeth out of his mouth if he messes with you again."

This earned a slight chuckle from Kurt. "Down, girl."

Waving goodbye to each other as they made their way to their respective vehicles Kurt couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't a small part of him that wanted Finn to object to his duet with Puck, if only so he wouldn't have to suffer through being alone with the boy he was secretly crushing on for an extended amount of time.

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"What about 'Think of Me' from The Phantom of the Opera?" he asked.

"What about no?"

"Ooh, how about 'I Get A Kick Out Of You' from Anything Goes?" Kurt asked excitedly, waving the vinyl record in the air.

"Anything not from Broadway?" Puck sighed.

"How do you feel about Disney? I've really been wanting to cover 'A Part of Your World'."

"The Little Mermaid?" Puck asked, barely hiding his contempt. "Can't we at least do something from Peter Pan or Aladdin?" Turning from his spot on Kurt's bed and reaching out to rifle through his CDs he wondered aloud, "What's Oliver!?"

Snatching the CD from out of Puck's hands he said, "It's a musical based on the Charles Dickens novel Oliver Twist, and seeing as it's from Broadway I guess we won't be doing anything from it."

Snatching the CD back from Kurt he said, "Hold up a minute, Hummel, you never said anything about Oliver Twist." Puck flipped the CD over, looking at the track listing for all the songs. "Anything good on here?"

"Umm, yeah," Kurt chuckled. "But what do you know about Oliver Twist?"

"Are you kidding me? I fucking love Oliver Twist! Dodger was the original badass. I learned all my best moves from him," Puck said.

Doing his best to bite back a snicker Kurt gently reached out for the album and said, "That's great, Noah, but we have to pick a love song for the competition."

"How weird is it of Mr. Schue to do a love song and a duet competition?" Puck asked. "Is it just me or is he losing inspiration?"

"It does seem like his lesson plans are less challenging this year," Kurt conceded. "But at least he tried to spice it up by having the majority of couples same-sex. That was unique."

"Yeah, I still crack-up when I remember the look on Finn's face when he got paired with Artie," Puck laughed. "What song do you think they're going to sing?"

"Finn's being super-secretive about their song selection given the reward is a free trip to that new Mexican place that offers unlimited chips and salsa."

"You know Santana showed up with a wheelbarrow and when the manager refused her she called the corporate offices and got her fired?" Puck asked.

"And with that in mind, we have to get back to the task at hand," Kurt said. Pulling his record box (which was covered in old Louis Vuitton bags as the drabness of a milk crate was too depressing) towards him, Kurt sat against the foot of his bed trying to find an appropriate song.

Puck, too lazy to get up, crawled along the top of Kurt's enormous four-poster bed and plopped himself on his stomach so his head was lolling over the end, his chin nearly resting on Kurt's shoulder, his breath sending chills down Kurt's spine as it hit his ear. Reaching around Kurt's shoulder he continued flipping the albums when Kurt stopped, his arm brushing across Kurt's neck as he looked.

"What about this one?" he asked, pulling a record out from the crate.

"That's the, um, Moulin Rouge soundtrack," Kurt gulped, finding it increasingly difficult to form coherent thoughts when Puck was so close to his ear. "It's surprisingly appropriate for this competition."

"Lady Marmalade'?" Puck asked, eyeing the track listing. "Is it about jam?"

"Not that one," Kurt huffed. Stiff backed, trying as much as possible to reduce skin-to-skin contact with Puck and avoid looking at him if at all possible, he took the CD from his hands, opened up the case and inserted it into the player. Soon enough the sounds of Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor's voices filled the room. He resumed his spot at the foot of the bed because even though he wanted to avoid having Puck touch him because he was afraid of losing control, it didn't mean he didn't want to be nearer to the mohawked boy again.

"What is this one called?" Puck asked.

"'Elephant Love Medley'. It's basically a lyrical mash-up of a bunch of different love songs." It took all of Kurt's self-control not to choke on his words as he felt Puck inching closer towards the back of his head.

"Yeah, I noticed a lot of different songs in this one. I like it." Every word sent a breath onto the back of Kurt's neck, making his skin erupt in goosebumps.

"I think we could put a different spin on it," Kurt suggested, trying desperately not to look back towards Puck.

"Sounds nice," Puck said. His voice was closer to Kurt's ear than the brunette remembered.

Kurt summed up all the courage in his skinny little body and turned around, coming face-to-face with Puck. The two stared at each other for a few seconds, their eyes locking, each afraid to look away. Before he could stop himself he was leaning forwards toward Puck, his eyes now beholding the plump fullness of Puck's lips. He wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel the warmth of his lips, wanted to feel his skin on his. Kurt had never wanted anything more in his life.

When he was an inch away from Puck's face, when he could feel the breath from his parted lips on his own, Puck pulled away. He jumped off the bed, made a hasty excuse about his being late to pick-up his little sister, and was out the door before Kurt could protest. He heard the door slam from his room, and heard the squeal of Puck's tires as his truck pealed out of the driveway.

Kurt's eyes watered as he lay back on his bed. Did he really come this close to kissing Noah Puckerman? And did Puck really run away as if Kurt were an incubator of the bubonic plague, as if Kurt wanted to suck his blood instead of simply feeling Puck's lips pressed against his?

Kurt's eyes brimmed over with tears as he stared at the ceiling and absent-mindedly twirled his hair in his fingers. He was stupid to believe Puck would kiss him. Puck had made no move towards Kurt. He simply sat there as Kurt, like an idiot, moved towards him, too overcome with lust for his mind to process that it wasn't longing in Puck's eyes, but disgust.

To Puck, Kurt was disgusting.

It should have killed Kurt's crush on Puck, should have made him hate the mohawked boy that much more, but it didn't. He still found himself thinking of Puck, and now that he'd just been so close to his face he couldn't stop picturing his moist lips, his strong nose, his eyebrows (that needed severe plucking), his dimples, his eyes. He couldn't stop thinking of Puck, and it didn't bring about the tingly, pterodactyls-in-your-stomach feelings it used to. Instead it made his heart ache.

He shut his eyes, wishing earnestly that he didn't have glee club practice the next day and would have to face Puck. He reached for his phone and called Rachel. He would have called Mercedes but he knew she was busy with Brittany. As much as Rachel annoyed him he needed a distraction from what had just happened, even if it meant sitting through a four hour Barbara Streisand retrospective with Rachel's distracting commentary.

While Kurt wanted nothing more than to forget what had just happened between him and Puck, what he couldn't know was that twelve blocks away and going nearly 50 miles an hour Noah Puckerman wanted nothing more than to turn around and complete the kiss that Kurt had failed to deliver.

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