Title: The Path to Liberty
Author: 1farmer_girl
Artist: csichick_2
Type: Slash, drama, historical!au
Rating: R
Word Count: 15, 207
Characters/Pairings: Puck/Kurt, Burt, Sam, Carol, Finn
Warnings: sexual content, mention of death and bloodshed, period homophobia and denial
Summary: Kurt Hummel is a loyal British citizen. Or at least he was. But when his schoolyard-bully-turned-best-friend, Puck, begins voicing his discontent in regards to King George and the actions of Parliament, Kurt begins to question his own beliefs.

And when Kurt isn't worried about the threat of violence between the colonists and the British, he gets to worry about his suddenly changing relationship with Puck. What were once innocent touches now cause Kurt to flush and shiver for reasons he doesn't understand, he only knows that he doesn't want them to stop. As Britain tries to tighten its hold on the colonies, the two young men must struggle to survive in their rapidly changing world and find liberty, not only for their country, but also for themselves.

Part 2

After that conversation with his father, Kurt began seeing things differently. Before he would walk around the streets of Boston and would see groups of talking people go silent when a soldier walked past. He'd never given it much thought before, but now he would wonder if they were talking about forming some sort of rebellion. Were they planning an attack or something equally rash?

Kurt was confident now that his father wasn't going to do anything stupid that would put him in danger, but he still worried about Puck. The day after that fateful town meeting Kurt had gone back to the butcher shop in hopes of discussing the events that had conspired after Puck had dropped Kurt off at the end of the night. Though he took care to only tell Puck about the conversation between himself and his father and not what happened later in his bed.

However, Puck didn't seem all that impressed with the news that Mr. Hummel support a change in Parliamentary policy. Puck still felt that the only way they would be able to achieve change was through active revolt. Kurt was trying, oh how he was trying, not to worry about that, but it was just no good.

If Kurt only had to worry about Puck running off to join a group of renegade rebels and laying siege to the British encampment, he probably would have been able to handle the stress. However, he also had to deal with all these new…thoughts. Thoughts that revolved around of Puck and Puck's deep, growly voice and his big hands and his hands on Kurt's body and so many more that Kurt didn't wholly understand.

He knew that these thoughts and feelings were considered incredibly sinful, but he couldn't seem to make them go away. It was like they'd always been inside of Kurt; he just hadn't realized it until they had solidified in his head when he'd lain in bed that fateful night. Since then, it was as though a dam had been broken. Kurt couldn't be in the same room as Puck anymore without his mind being flooded with thoughts and images of the two of them in undeniably lustful situations.

Puck would run his tongue over his chapped lips and Kurt would imagine that same tongue running down his neck and his chest and lower still. When Puck worked in the back of his shop moving the heavy boxes and crates, with his muscles flexing in full view, Kurt would wonder what it would be like to be secured in those strong arms, pinned beneath that solid body. When Puck told a dirty joke as he was want to do, Kurt would blush as he always had, but now it was now only partly because of the crudity and partly because he was now imagining Puck saying the same words, low and secret in Kurt's ear as he acted out his words.

It got to where Puck didn't even have to be in the room anymore for Kurt's mind to deviate from the socially acceptable. It seemed impossible for Kurt to lay in bed anymore without thinking of Puck lying in the bed with him. Around and around these thoughts went in his head until he was so confused he just wanted to crawl into a corner and cry.

But there wasn't cause for complete despair yet. What Kurt needed to do was perform a little experiment. Maybe he wasn't really a sodomite, his brain was just a little confused when it came to Puck. All the jokes about Kurt being a girl had simply gotten in his head and were messing with his thought process. What he needed to do was see if his perverted thoughts could be transferred to another man.

If they couldn't, then the problem wasn't with Kurt, but with Puck. All Kurt would have to do was work himself through this phase, maybe spend a little less time hanging out with Puck. However, if he could start thinking of another man in that manner, then Kurt would know that he really had a problem.

If that happened, Kurt didn't want to think about what the rest of life would be like if he had to live under the burden of such a horrible secret. But first things first, Kurt had to choose a man that he could test his theory on.

He toyed briefly with using Finn Hudson, but ended up dismissing that idea on the grounds that Finn and Puck were too similar. They were both tall and dark and tended to have a lewd personality. Kurt needed to find someone who wouldn't remind him of Puck.

After some deliberation he settled on Sam Evans. Sam had moved to Boston from New York a few months ago in order to open a bakery. Kurt didn't know Sam that well since he usually did his own baking so he had no need to frequent a store of baked goods.

However, Kurt had seen Sam at church several times and, physically, he fit the bill of what Kurt was looking for. Sam had pale skin and blonde hair and while he had a fit body, he was on the small side, the same height as Kurt and barely broader in the shoulder.

In short, he was the opposite of Puck and therefore met Kurt's needs perfectly.

The very next day, Kurt put on his best winter coat and dug out a large shopping basket and headed out on his mission with a brisk stride. His confident walk slowed considerably as he got closer to the bakery. He was no longer quite as sure as he had been that this plan was going to work out as he had hoped. And if his experiment failed then there would be nothing left for him to do but except his fate in life as a deviant.

Thus, it was with a heavy heart that Kurt stepped into the bakery, letting the strong scent of flour wash over him. He steeled his nerves as he walked up to the counter, glancing subtly around the shop for a sign of the baker. He frowned when he realized there wasn't anyone else in the shop, though he could hear what were probably flour bags being moved around behind a wall partition.

Kurt shifted uncomfortably, not sure if he should call out his presence or wait until Sam came back to the counter. In the end, Kurt felt a little bad to drag Sam away from his work when he didn't really need to buy anything. He also may have wanted to use any form of procrastination possible to put off being face to face with Sam.

So instead, Kurt wondered aimlessly around the shop, looking at all the different baked goods that were on display. Sam really did have an impressive setup, Kurt acknowledged. The shop was meticulously clean and the winter sun shone in the large front window and there were even a couple chairs for customers to sit on if it got crowded. Along the walls there was row after row of shelves filled to the brim with breads and muffins and cookies.

Kurt was just wondering how Sam managed to get his bread crusts that perfect shade of golden brown every time when the baker himself came out from behind the wall partition, wiping flour off his hands onto his apron. He startled slightly when he noticed Kurt, clearly not aware there was anyone his shop.

"Good morning," Sam said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry to keep you waiting, you should have called out."

"Not at all," Kurt said kindly, moving over to the counter. "I'm in no hurry and didn't mind waiting a few minutes."

"Well, what can I get for you?"

"Um," Kurt said ungainly. He hadn't thought of a real reason to go to the bakery. Thinking fast he said, "Mrs. Hudson told me about these wonderful maple muffins you make. I'd like to get a half dozen of those, please."

"Sure thing," Sam said, grinning.

As Sam packed up the muffins, Kurt could barely contain his joy. His plan had worked out perfectly. He could tell that Sam was a good looking guy, but it was purely on an aesthetic level and didn't go any further than that.

So pleased was he that Kurt decided he would splurge and buy one of those perfectly baked loaves of bread he'd been admiring earlier. When Sam brought that over as well, Kurt asked him how he managed to keep them in the oven for the perfect length of time and that was when everything went horribly wrong.

Sam said that; while it was important to leave the bread baking for the right length of time, it was also important to make sure that the bread was the right size. If it was too large the inside wouldn't be fully cooked without burning the crust. He said some other stuff too, but Kurt didn't catch it because then Sam grabbed a hold of his wrist to move his hand on top of the loaf. The second Sam's hand touched his, Kurt breath caught and it suddenly felt as though the temperature had risen.

His brilliant plan had failed.

There was no denying it now. Kurt took a deep, fortifying breath as he finally accepted the fact that he was a homosexual. It..wasn't quite as horrible as he thought it would be.

Kurt blinked and refocused on Sam who was looking at him with concern.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"No, I'm not," Kurt answered honestly. "But I think I will be."

Then he grabbed his purchases and walked out of the bakery with Sam staring confusedly after him.

When he got back home, Kurt put his purchases away and then sat down with a cup of tea. Now that there was no more hiding from the situation, Kurt had to think of a new plan of action. This wasn't the end of the world. As long as no one every found out, he would be fine. He just had to be extra careful to keep it a secret. Homosexuality was punishable by imprisonment and even death and for half a second Kurt saw a flash of the hangman's noose in his mind's eye. Reflexively, his hand came up to his throat and Kurt gulped audibly. Tears sprang to his eyes at the thought of how dreadful it would be to die in such a way. He suddenly wanted very much to scream and the injustice of it all.

But that wasn't an option. Kurt didn't want to think about what would happen if he fell apart. For starters his father would be worried and would want to know what was upsetting Kurt and Kurt was sure he wouldn't be able to hide something this big if he was directly asked.

And more than anything, Kurt was terrified of what his father would have to say about Kurt's sinful thoughts. Kurt was sure his father wouldn't turn him into the authorities for committing sodomy, but at the very least his father would be disappointed and Kurt would hate that.

So Kurt didn't do anything, no matter how much he longed to. He pushed all those feelings down as much as possible and if he woke up in the middle of the night, his body sweating and aching, he'd tell himself it had nothing to do with the fact that he'd just been dreaming about Puck.

This method of avoidance wasn't perfect, but if worked. At least it did for a couple weeks until Puck showed up on his doorstep on the evening of December 16th.

It was one of those rare nights where Kurt was home alone. His father had traveled to Philadelphia in order to pick up some raw steel he'd ordered. He'd left 2 days earlier and wouldn't be back until at least tomorrow, longer if there was a problem with his order or bad weather suddenly came up. Kurt was just beginning to wonder what he was going to make for dinner when he heard the knock at the front door.

Kurt wasn't really surprised to see Puck standing there since Puck often made unannounced visits. However, he was surprised to see what appeared to be Indian war paint spread across Puck's face.

"Puck, what on earth do you have on your face?" Kurt asked, his voice an even mix of exasperation and fondness. Puck pouted, his faultless mouth pursed in a thoroughly distracting manner.

"How'd you recognize me?"

Kurt snorted, "Did you really think you were being that stealthy?"

Puck's puts on his best sulk face and says, "Fine, just for that I'm not going to tell about the epic event that's going down tonight."

"Oh, don't be such a baby and come inside; it's freezing out here. Does this epic event explain why you have paint on your face?"

Puck shot him a mock glare, but allowed himself to be pulled into the warm house. "For your information I, and everyone else involved in tonight's event, are wearing this paint to disguise ourselves from the redcoats."

Kurt froze, all sorts of horrible possibilities running through his head. "Puck, why would you need to disguise yourself from the King's soldiers?" Kurt voice was deadly serious, but Puck didn't seem to notice as he broke out a large grin.

"It's going to be so awesome, Kurt. You remember that ship full of tea I told you about? Well, some of us have decided to send a little message by throwing the tea overboard. Do you want to come with?" Puck looked so excited and pleased with himself, that it stopped Kurt from hitting him, but just barely.

Instead he shrieked, "Are you insane! For starters, there's no way some silly paint is going to fool anyone, you are most definitely going to get caught and for another thing, why on earth would I want to join you on such a ridiculous endeavor?"

Puck looked upset now and he shouted right back, "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Is that all this is to you, just a chance for you to get some cheap thrills? You are talking about war, Puck. You are flirting with bloodshed and guns and death. Puck these actions could get you killed!" Kurt finished with a shout, his face flushed from the frustration he was feeling from trying to get Puck to understand what a dangerous line he was walking.

His rant must have achieved something, because Puck seemed to deflate before him. He looked almost lost, his gaze flicking across Kurt's face as though he was expecting to find the answers he needed. Kurt felt pinned by Puck's eyes, unable to speak or move, even though Puck wasn't touching him.

Puck finally broke the silence saying, "Why do you care?" his voice cracking slightly at the end.

Of all the things Kurt had thought Puck was going to say, this wasn't one of them. He could only blink confusedly as he tried to figure out what Puck could be talking about.

"What?"

"Why do you care?" Puck repeated his words now with a hint of desperation. Kurt was feeling that frustration again, but for a very different reason.

"How can you ask that?" Kurt finally managed to say. "You're my best friend. You and my father are the two people I care about most in the world. Of course I wouldn't want to see you die. I don't know what I would do without you."

"But why?" Puck had moved closer now. If he was any closer Kurt was sure he would be able to feel Puck's warm breath wash across his face; and Kurt would be able to feel the heat that always radiated off Puck's body. "Why do you care so much?" Puck continued, unaware of Kurt's thoughts, "I'm just a nobody. I was a complete ass to you in school and even now I'm just a butcher, the son of the town deviant. You are such a good person with so much kindness and – and love to give. Why give it to me? What makes me so special?"

Kurt's breath had caught in his throat when Puck said the word love. Could Puck know about how Kurt felt? No, he couldn't, Kurt had been so careful to keep his lustful desires hidden. Still, Puck's words had thrown him and he couldn't seem to recover. He tried to think of words that would answer Puck's questions, without mentioning his sinful thoughts, but there didn't seem to be any.

"I don't, I – Puck," all Kurt could get out were random words, but Puck seemed to pull some meaning from Kurt's stumbling. His eyes took on the same soft, hesitant quality they'd had when he'd asked if Kurt would like to sit in front of Puck on the ride to the town meeting. He stepped closer still to Kurt, bringing one hand up to lean against the wall, his arm so close Kurt could feel the knitted wool of Puck's shirt brush against his ear.

Puck leaned his face close to Kurt's, so near that their breaths mixed together as though they were breathing in one. He could surely here Kurt's heart, which was now thudding in his chest like a drum.

"Kurt," Puck said, and dear God, why did he have to drop his voice into the register that turned Kurt's legs to jelly? "Kurt, why won't you answer me?"

Kurt swallowed hard and tried to say something but all that came out of his mouth was small whimper. Puck's eyes seemed to darken at the noise and he leaned in even closer. "Kurt," he said huskily. "Are you hard?"

Kurt finally managed to gasp out a "Yes," and he was responded by Puck hips suddenly brushing against his own. Kurt let out a cry at the friction and he couldn't stop himself from rubbing back against Puck, it felt so good. Puck's face was mere inches away and Kurt found himself drawn to him, kissing him before he even knew what he was doing.

And suddenly it was like a dam broke. Puck grabbed both of Kurt's wrists in one hand a pulled them above his head and with the other he palmed Kurt's waist, sneak questing fingers under the edge of Kurt's pants. They seemed fused together now, their hips rocking back and forth in a ceaseless rhythm and their mouths licking and biting at each other.

Faster and harder they went until Kurt's entire world was just him and Puck and the pleasure racing across his skin. Vaguely Kurt heard moaning and couldn't tell who it was as the pressure built up until it finally exploded into rushing noise and white spots behind Kurt's eyes.