Chapter 4

Jack couldn't seem to understand the complexity of a person.

Or maybe Kurt and Burt were just too complex to understand.

Dude, where's my guitar?

Puck stared in awe at the spectacle going on before him.

Tickling?

Really? That was the horrible form of torture that Hummel and his little prissy ass had to endure?

But, then, Uncle Jack didn't stop.

Even though Kurt was screaming, loudly. There was no mirth, or legs kicking in spastic joy. Instead there was a terrified high-pitched scream, and Kurt's body had locked up, but Jack wouldn't stop.

All of a sudden Puck was very scared, it was probably one of the scariest moments of his life. He couldn't see Kurt's face, but he could hear the screams, see how tense Kurt's body was, how white his knuckles were. It was frightening, and if he came out of the closet, there would be hell to pay.

Came out of the closet… And everything clicked. Kurt's change of clothing, the missing Glee, and his Uncles crazy reaction to Kurt's kick, all because he was gay and his Uncle didn't know it.

Puck would bet his guitar that it's because Uncle Jack would beat the living shit out of Kurt. Hell, he bet this jack ass would go Godzilla bat shit crazy, set some Day Care Centers on fire, and rape kittens.

And then it was done, the tickling stopped, but the older man still loomed over Kurt. Small, and shivering, Kurt coughed and curled tighter into himself. Puck's hand was clenched painfully around the doorknob of Kurt's closet.

"You little bitch, so obstinate. News flash: I'm bigger than you, older than you, and more intelligent than you. Who's gonna believe you, who looks enough like your whore mother to be a faggot."

Kurt looked like he was dead. Puck saw it; the mention of Kurt's mother had expelled any oxygen from Kurt's lungs. He didn't move until Uncle Jack had shut the door upstairs.

Puck slammed the door open, uncaring to the resounding bang that reverberated throughout the stale white room. The room that had became more akin to some sort of insane asylum prison cell with Kurt wheezing and shaking on the sterile white bed.

"Kurt, Kurt, Jesus Christ what the HELL was that." Puck shakes Kurt's tense body, and saw how glazed over Kurt's eyes were.

Puck wanted to stop the scared twisted feeling in his gut.

Kurt pushed himself and crossed his arms over his stomach, hunching into himself and rocking slightly. "That was nothing, you saw nothing, and therefore we have nothing to talk about."

"You're so stupid, you think I can just sit and watch shit as weird as that and not say anything? Tickling, really?" Puck scooted closer to Kurt and grabbed his neck roughly, forcing Kurt to look him in the eye. "I'm just trying to look out for you dude."

Kurt pulled away swiftly, "Ha, very funny Mr. Puckerman. I don't need your pity. I don't need your help, you don't understand enough to help."

"Fuck you! I'm just trying to help, I'm not a total dick."

"I know what you are Noah? You are a paper gangster." Kurt stood and spun in front of Puck.

"What the fu-"

Cause I do not accept any less

Then someone just as real, as fabulous

Don't want no paper gangsta

Won't sign away my life to someone

Who got the flavor but don't have no follow through

Don't want no paper gangsta

Won't sign no monkey papers

I don't do funny business, not interested in fakers

Kurt huffed and turned away from Puck.

"I'm not assigning you as a stripper Hummel, Jesus." Puck shifted and stood.

"You don't get it! I don't want to be your stripper; you don't want to be my friend, at least not long term. Get with the program Puckerman, once we get to school- or are graced with the presence of ANY sort of third party to this communication love fest, you will not like me."

"Oh, come off your huffy horse Hummel, all I'm trying to do is figure out why that guy scares the shit out of you, I'm not signing a contract to eternal servitude."

Kurt disbelievingly stared at Puck, "So all you want to know is why my Uncle hates me?"

"Yah, that's it. We'll roast marshmallows and it'll be like telling ghost stories."

Kurt got right in Puck's face, "Go dig a ditch. And. Die. In. It." Kurt turned away, trying to flee up the stairs before Puck could do anything Kurt would have trouble accessorizing with.

Puck growled and grabbed the fleeing soprano, "If your gonna sing a song about me being a fucking pimp daddy, you should get a taste off your own medicine." Puck tugged on Kurt's wrist until they were face-to-face, and very close.

Puck smirked and leaned forward.

If I could write you a song to make you fall in love

I would already have up, under my arm

I used up all of my tricks

I hope that you like this

But you probably won't

You think you're cooler than me

You got designer shades just to hide your face

And you wear them around like you're cooler than me

And you never say hey or remember my name

And it's probably cause you think you're cooler than me

Puck finished and gave a languid smile while Kurt bristled.

"At least you're fully aware of out social situation, now please unhand me." Kurt looked Puck challengingly in the eye; turning away he gave a second attempt at escape.

Foiled again he found himself dangerously close to a towering Noah Puckerman.

"You really frustrate me." Puck's breath washed over Kurt's face, and Kurt shivered while looking into Puck's confused face. "I just want to help out."

Kurt allowed himself to be close to Noah for a few minutes, searching his eyes, before dropping his head and pulling his hand away from Puck's larger one.

Kurt walked quickly to the stairs and sprung up two steps at a time. "I'm going to get dinner. Try and restrain your animalistic tendencies while I'm away."

Puck growled and sat heavily on the couch. All he wanted was some information on why Hummel was acting all reclusive and emo; he didn't want a fucking life story.

"You look like a dinosaur." Kurt's clear voice rang and he sat to attention.

"Pizza? I thought you were making dinner."

"I did make it, you fool. Papa Johns has nothing on some home made deep dish."

Puck smiled and took the white plate from Kurt's hand, admiring the peppers, cheeses, and meats littering the steaming slice of pizza.

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

Puck looked up, surprised. "You got any action?"

Kurt looked uncertain before bending down and reaching for a DVD case. Standing up he turned to Puck, who was in his space bubble, looking at him with scary intensity.

"Can I help you?" Kurt hunched into himself, trying to create space between him and a boy that's tortured him since second grade.

"Why are you so defensive? Can't you just chill and… I don't know, be normal?" Puck's tone was only questioning, there were no judgments or assumptions.

Kurt let his shoulders sag and his brow furrow. "Normal as in I should want to be with girls, I should have a lot of friends, and I should come home to a family, not just a father?" Kurt took a menacing step forward. "It is none of your business how I live my life or how I behave, much less is it your business concerning the way my Uncle behaves."

Puck hadn't stepped back, so he was chest to chest with Kurt, who was looking at him for an answer.

Puck kind of wanted an answer too. An answer to why he cared so much about some gay kid with a shit life, why he wasn't at all disturbed with how close he was to said gay kid, and why said gay kid looked really nice with flushed cheeks and emotional eyes.

"I rely heavily on impulses, impulses keep life half way interesting, and allow me to decide my own fate."

Kurt was spooked to say the least at Puck's little comment on life, and tried to move away from him, only to back into the television set behind his back. "What sort of nonsense are you spewing? Puckerman, this is not funny, just drop the stuff about my Uncle and let's watch Sherlock Holmes."

Puck was a man of action, of impulse.

So he kissed Kurt, full on the lips.

Kurt's eyes went wide in surprise, and his hands came up to push Puck away. Puck simply grabbed the two hands and pressed them to his chest, his other hand moving to the back of Kurt's head.

The kiss was gentle, explorative, testing the boundaries that no longer existed in the territory they had entered.

Puck inhaled as he removed himself from Kurt, and ran the tip of his nose down Kurt's jaw line.

"You don't want to do this Noah, just get the hell away from me and we can forget this ever happened." Kurt trembled, his eyes still closed, he didn't want to face Noah, and he didn't want to acknowledge the recent event. Puck just hummed and released one of Kurt's hands from his grip, only to hold it with his now free hand.

Twirling Puck started to dance with Kurt. Puck smiled, and softly began to sing.

If I could write you a song to make you fall in love

I would already have up, under my arm

I used up all of my tricks

I hope that you like this

But you probably won't

You think you're cooler than me

You got designer shades just to hide your face

And you wear them around like you're cooler than me

And you never say hey or remember my name

And it's probably cause you think you're cooler than me

You got your high brows

Shows on your feet

And you wear 'em around like it ain't shit

But you don't know the way that you look

When your steps make that much noise

I got you all figured out

You need everyone's eyes just to feel seen

Hey, you're so vain

You probably think this song is about you, don't you, don't you?

Kurt pushed away from a laughing Puck, "I don't need your bullshit. I don't need you messing with me, and trying to learn about me with no actual commitment to being pleasant to me on a daily basis."

"It's not like I'm signing my death sentence, so what if I'm not nice, the Puckster doesn't need to be nice to be lo~ved." Puck waggled his eyebrows and moved closer to Kurt.

Backing up Kurt exclaimed, "What are you doing? Noah, you just snogged me, and now you're singing about how much of a bitch I am, really? I don't need you to act like I'm some sort of charity case, all I want is to be left alone, and you to stop nosing around in my life."

"Relax, I don't think your charity, I've dated homeless chicks before, and it ain't all that great. Sure, they're willing to put out, but I'm not putting my family jewels into any holes that look like they're filled with barnacles, you get me?" Puck was at ease, messing with Kurt, he let the familiarity wash over him. Forgetting his impulsive smooch and dance number for the time being.

"Ew, I have never even considered two disgusting things you described in that story." Kurt was slightly astounded, could he and Puck just leave it at that, and forget the last five minutes of their lives?

"I still like girls, yah know?"

"I'm certainly aware on how much you appreciate the opposite gender Mr. Puckerman."

"But, I think I like you better than most chicks."

At this Kurt stopped, his forgotten pizza slice already half way to his mouth. "You haven't had a civil conversation with me since we met. Plus, you tormented me for years, and I'm pretty sure the last time I smelt dumpster, you were homophobic."

Puck sat back a little, thinking, and he wasn't good with words, he always was an impulse kind of person.

"Maybe you can cure me of my homophobia, how does that sound?"

"Not appealing in any way shape or form."

"A date, for a pal?"

"You are in no way my pal."

"If we went on a date maybe you would become my pal…" Puck looked hopefully at Kurt, because a date was definitely not a topper on his list of most impulsive things.

Kurt sighed, before the bang of the front door was heard.

"WHERE'S MA BABY?"

Kurt shook his head and smiled, "Ah, Mercedes, always with the flashy entrance."

XxX

I'm… not going to be killed with pitchforks and hanged, am I?

I honestly really appreciated all the reviews; I know the cliffy was bad. I actually am Pteronophobic, which I am pretty sure is a phobia of being tickled, because an adult wouldn't stop when I was little. It is also used as a torture technique.

This chapter is a bit different, so if anyone has any criticisms, or things they like especially I really appreciate it.

Special shout out to nonexistantpuppy I really appreciated the things you pointed out about my story, and I hope you like the chapter.

I'm so sorry for the late update, but I've had a really bad experience with soccer, which I want to continue for the rest of my life. Lately there are so many setbacks that I feel really discouraged. If any high school students, or any students, want to talk about issues they have, I would really like to talk to you.

Is that weird?

I appreciate the support extremely. I hope you enjoyed.