There were a few things Puck absolutely knew about himself.
1.) He was a self-proclaimed bad ass. Even when he was little he was awesome and he had made damn sure people knew he could—and would—kick their ass. When he was six, he beat up a second grader who had cut in the lunch line. He'd broken his arm when he was eight falling out of a tree house and he hadn't cried, not even a little. He slushed a senior football player his first year of high school and when the football team tried to retaliate, Puck had broken the quarterback's nose. Sure, he'd gotten a bit pummeled himself and his mom had cried a lot but hell—people knew that he was a bad ass and not to fuck with him.
2.) He was incredibly impulsive. He did a lot of things with out thinking. Typically violent things, but not always. Sleeping with Quinn had been impulsive. Joining Glee had been impulsive. Tossing Kurt into the dumpster when they were fourteen was impulsive. He just didn't always think before he did things. He just did them.
3.) He never disliked Kurt for being gay. Puck didn't particularly care what got a person off. Boys, girls, both, whatever. Sex was sex. Maybe love was love too, he wasn't sure. Puck also didn't care who was checking him out. He knew he was good looking. Who wouldn't want to hit this? Besides, Puck knew that guys on the sports teams checked each other out. Not in a "I wanna fuck" sort of way, but what's the difference?
Puck thought that it might have been a combination of these things that made him kiss Kurt Hummel in his car that night, the reason he sought out Azimio and Korofsky. But something more kind of pulled at the pit of his stomach.
Puck had to be honest; Hummel was hot. Puck didn't consider himself gay, but he knew what looked good, and Kurt was kind of seriously fuckable. He didn't think it was that weird, but he knew a lot of people—especially in Lima—did. So he didn't mention it to anyone, even Finn when they were friends. There were enough things wrong with him that people hated him for.
But Puck didn't kiss Kurt just because he was hot—he didn't think. There was something about Kurt that just sucked Puck in. He remembered the first time he really saw Kurt. Second week of high school and Kurt went strutting towards the doors like he owned the place. He was both really fascinated and really annoyed. Puck couldn't understand what made some tiny, weirdly dressed kid act like he was the cock in the hen house. So, impulsively, he'd tossed the kid in the dumpster. But even that very first dumpster toss had Kurt simply pulling himself out, brushing himself off, and walking back in as if nothing had happened. He acted so unaffected. Like nothing could touch him, like he was better than everyone else. It really used to bother Puck, to the point of punching Kurt the first time he called him a neanderthal. But now, Puck kind of admired it. Yesterday had been the only time Puck had seen Kurt break down like that. And there had been a whole hell of a lot more going on than just bullies.
Thinking about it now made Puck's blood boil. Puck and Finn had been friends for a very long time and ever since he could remember, people had liked Finn better. Finn was a good guy. Stupid as rocks, but good. Puck had been able to figure out Kurt's little crush on the quarterback pretty much when it happened. It was obvious, really. Kurt wasn't very good at subtle glances. It came as no surprise to Puck—everyone liked Finn. Those who couldn't catch Finn's attention then settled for Puck and pretended it was Finn. Puck kind of figured that if Finn ever noticed Kurt's crush, he'd be pretty chill with it. Finn and Kurt had seemed like friends even before Glee, Finn was always being nice to Kurt. So this whole thing with the room and the fucking towelette just served to piss Puck off. He didn't really know why, but seeing Kurt just destroyed over the whole thing really got to him. So he, Noah "Stay Away From That Boy" Puckerman, had done what Finn was too chickenshit to do.
He'd held Kurt together long enough that the smaller teen could breathe again. Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all.
Kurt slammed his locker shut, cocking an eyebrow at Mercedes' angry look.
"Are you ever going to realize how criminal that jacket is?" Kurt asked with a slightly cruel grin. Mercedes scowl deepened.
"What is going on?" She hissed in his direction. Kurt adjusted his bag on his shoulder, holding his books a little closer to his chest.
"Well, earlier my dad told me he'd pay me to help out in the garage this week. Pretty exciting." Mercedes grabbed his arm, tugging it a little.
"Don't play with me, Kurt. What was all that nonsense with Puck yesterday?"
"Him acting like a hot shot and beating up those two idiots? I'm certain I haven't the slightest idea." He cocked an eyebrow at the girl's doubtful look. "Oh, am I supposed to keep tabs on Noah Puckerman now? Sorry, I'll get right on that." Kurt realized he was being unfair and fairly grumpy, but he really wasn't in the mood to deal with this high school drama.
"Kurt...? Is everything alright?" Kurt took a deep breath and forced a little smile in his friend's direction.
"I'm fine, 'Cedes. Didn't get my full eight hours last night. It's very important, as you know. I'm sorry." Mercedes smiled back, buying the lie. Whether it was because she didn't realize he was lying or didn't want to realize, Kurt couldn't be sure. But either way, he didn't feel like rehashing everything that had happened.
Kurt kept an eye out for Puck, though he wasn't entirely sure why. So Puck had been nice to him. Kurt was so not going to fall all over himself because a guy was nice to him. He saw where that got him. Besides, Puck was the prime example of an asshole and Kurt really didn't need to get involved with the biggest whore in McKinnley. But still, Kurt looked for him, watched out for his shaved head, slumped shoulders and pissed off scowl. Mercedes was talking to him about some sweater she found at the mall, but Kurt wasn't really paying attention. He was too busy trying to look over the head of an obnoxiously tall freshman in front of him.
And then he saw him.
Black shirt pulled tight over his chest and arms, backpack slung over one shoulder and that slightly pouty scowl on his face. Kurt hated that butterflies flew through his stomach, hated that a smile tried to pull across his lips. He didn't want to feel giddy over Puck, but when the older teen looked up and caught his eye, Kurt couldn't help but blush. Puck gave him a tiny smile and Kurt had to smile back.
School kind of sucked major ass for Puck lately. Everyone pretty much hated him now and that was shitty. School was stupid to begin with, but now that no one was talking to him, it was ultra stupid. So Puck had started the game of avoiding, ignoring and glaring. It worked out pretty well for him. Kept people off his back and kept him from seeing all the dirty looks people sent his way. If he had to look at all those fucking faces looking at him like that he'd have one of those psychotic breaks and kill everyone. And he'd kind of put his mom through a whole hell of a lot so that would be pretty shitty of him. So he kept to himself, kept his head down, kept his fists clenched.
Unless Kurt was around.
He liked when he saw Kurt, liked how the younger teen blushed red and looked away with only a tiny smile. He kind of hated that it made him so damn happy. It was pretty much the best part of his day and Puck thought maybe that was a little weird. But it was something to look forward to, something to take his mind off how shitty everything was for him.
"Were you just staring at Hummel's ass, Puckerman?" Santana cut sharply into his thoughts. Santana was definitely the school's biggest bitch (besides maybe Kurt), but her and Puck had known each other since they were two and Puck kind of saw her as a... something. They'd fucked a lot so he figured "sister" was out.
"His jeans are like... vacuum sealed to his body. It's hard to not look... and I honestly just can't understand how it's even possible." Santana raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Really?" She hissed, leaning forward. "You were contemplating Kurt's fashion choices? That's more gay than staring at his great ass." Puck scowled at her, leaning on his knees.
"Dude. I'm so not gay. Look at these guns. Stud." He flexed his arms and Santana shoved him before flicking his ear. He winced and shot her a glare.
"So not a 'dude', asshole. And may I remind you, I know you better than your own mother. You're like... a 4.5 on the scale of gay." Puck'e eyes widened and he sat up straighter.
"What... the fuck, Lopez? I'm so not gay!" Santana rolled her eyes, pulling a nail file out of her bag.
"I've known since were seven and my cousin from Spain was visiting. He was ten years older and completely ripped and we were having a pool party and you, ever the little perv, could not stop staring at him." Puck frowned.
"S-so! That... I was seven! And the guy was like... super man!"
"When we were thirteen you cried when we watched Titanic."
"It's a really depressing movie—"
"You're always checking out players from other schools."
"Sizing up the competition! Not checking anyone out!"
"And now Hummel's ass. Face it Puck, half the reason you tossed that kid in the dumpster was just so you could get your hands on him." Puck just kind of stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to do. So he was a little hot for Hummel, so what? That didn't make him hot for all guy's dicks. He didn't think.
"Lopez, if I were gay, don't you think I'd have a hard on for Finn like every other sad fuck who is into dick?" Santana scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"No. The guy is an idiot and you don't deal with people who aren't worth it. Finn is like... the least worth it guy at our school." She leaned forward, grabbing his wrist, her nails digging just enough into his skin.
"You're hot for Hummel. Even Brittany figured out why you beat up those two losers and you keep sending Finn dirty looks. You're a girl's worst nightmare, but you're a gay kid's wet dream. Pretty sure Kurt can't get preggers."
"Is that your twisted form of consent?"
"That's my way of saying I'll help you because for Kurt, you'll need to man up a little, Puckerman."