Title: Puckzilla Is Officially My... Boyfriend?
Rating: PG-13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt, Puckzilla.
Genre: Comedy/Crack
Warning: Total crack. Implied sexual imagery.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own it and I'm not making any money from it, this is pure entertainment and not intended to offend.
Notes: Purtzilla romance from here on in.
.
Sleep deprived and beginning to get very frustrated, Kurt woke up for the fourth time that night only to groan when he realised it was still dark. The only light in the cave came from the half-moon, shining through over the black hole of the cave pool. If he turned enough to look at the fire pit he could just make out the glow of the coals, which meant it couldn't have been that long since the last time he'd woken up.
Sleep was a cruel, cold-hearted bitch. He didn't even feel any less tired than when he'd first settled on the mossy ledge, just annoyed. There was no physical reason for him to keep waking up.
It wasn't too hot, or too light. It wasn't cold, the chill kept away by the warmth behind him. Nothing was poking him or making noise. Puckzilla was sleeping soundly on the ledge behind him, lying on his side in a half-curl, close enough to Kurt that his body heat was like a blanket.
Recently Kurt had started worrying that he'd get too used to sleeping like this – on a mossy rock with Puckzilla behind him – and would find himself unable to sleep in real beds. Tonight he was having the opposite problem and it was starting to really piss him off.
He rolled over for what felt like the thousandth time and found himself facing Puckzilla's chest. He watched in the faint light as the creature breathed, listening to the faint rumble of sound that was more like purring than snoring. It was strangely soothing.
It made Kurt irrationally angry that he'd find Puckzilla's presence at all soothing.
This creature was dangerous, inhuman, could crush him to death if it rolled over in the wrong direction, and Kurt would rather sleep here than in a bed? What in the hell was wrong with him?
Looking at Puckzilla now, Kurt remembered suddenly that he hadn't thought about being rescued in over a week. His phone was stone cold dead, so useless he'd actually forgotten where he'd left the stupid thing last. He got no news from the outside world. Essentially cut off from the rest of everything and everyone, and yet so far his only complaints had been the lack of coffee (solved now) and the damage to his clothing and skin. Forty pounds – enough for a literal vat – of Avenue recently gifted to him by an exasperated Puckzilla meant he wouldn't need to worry about his skin for a long time.
The only issue remaining was clothing, something solved as easily as a sewing kit and some decent fabric.
He wasn't lonely. He wasn't bored.
He was a little horrified that he didn't miss his friends and family as much as he should have. Kurt had Puckzilla for company.
It occurred to him just exactly what in the hell was wrong with him.
"I'm a complete nut job," Kurt whispered aloud, aware that he was reaching the terrifying climax of his earlier crisis. "I'm officially insane. I've lost it. My mind is fundamentally... ridiculous."
He tilted his head back, looking up to see the way Puckzilla's arms were resting by his head. The curl, the angle of his chest, left a tiny gap just large enough for Kurt to wriggle through. 'This doesn't mean," he added, starting to inch his way slowly under Puckzilla's arm, "that I've in any way fallen for your charms. This is only because I'm clearly deranged."
Puckzilla didn't answer past a faint murmur, still sound asleep.
Kurt wormed his way up until he was level with Puckzilla's face, careful not to wake the creature. Somehow – and don't ask for his logic on this because not even he's sure - it felt less stupid doing this while Puckzilla was asleep.
Even with the faint light from the moon it was almost impossible to make out the details of Puckzilla's face. Kurt could see the shapes of his nose and lips, the shadows of his eye sockets, and could recall from memory what the creature's face looked like in the light. Proportionately perfect, handsome, if it hadn't been for the size difference and the green skin he might have been looking at a model. He was... Well, Kurt had to admit that there were plenty of worse things a person could be attracted to.
At least Kurt had picked something that was vaguely human.
At least Puckzilla wasn't a jellyfish.
Kurt suppressed a slightly hysterical giggle. He had no idea what he was doing, if this was actually what he wanted or if he'd just been alone with the creature long enough that he'd been brainwashed into thinking it was what he wanted. He could feel the weight of Puckzilla's arm draped over him, crushing him without actually crushing him. Heavy, reassuring, hot against the cold chill of the night air. He could feel Puckzilla's breath on his face as he drew closer and raised a hand to touch the creature's jaw line.
The touch helped orient him, so when he leaned in he knew which direction he should be coming from. Kurt hesitated at the last second, giving himself a final chance to back off and forget this incredibly stupid, insane thing he was about to do. But seconds passed and he couldn't make himself pull away.
So he pushed forwards instead, gently touching his mouth to Puckzilla's. The difference in size was noticeable, not completely impossible. Kurt had almost expected Puckzilla's lips to be rough, or scaly, not soft and plush.
He didn't know if he'd secretly expected it to feel bad, but when he pressed a firmer kiss to the creature's mouth a knot of tension unwound in his body.
Kurt sighed softly. He pulled away just enough that he could stretch out again, his head resting against Puckzilla's collarbone. He spared a brief thought for the possibility of being crushed while unconscious, a thought that didn't stop him from actually falling asleep just a few seconds later.
.
.
Kurt was not in fact crushed in his sleep.
He woke up feeling warm and well rested to the sound of a deep purr rumbling close by. Sometime while he was sleeping Puckzilla must have moved, because he was now on his back with Kurt sprawled over his chest, head tucked up underneath Puckzilla's chin. It took Kurt a little while to wake up enough to realise that the pleasant, massaging sensation against his back was being caused by one of Puckzilla's hands stroking him.
"Good morning," Kurt murmured, stretching as best he could without losing his balance. He sat up, as carefully as possible, and looked down at Puckzilla.
"Grrrmmmm," the creature replied, smiling at him.
For some reason, Kurt blushed. He had the feeling that something very significant had changed in their relationship. Kurt had kissed Puckzilla last night, and even though the creature had been asleep at the time he still seemed to know it had happened. (Or, he reasoned, Puckzilla had woken up with Kurt tucked under his arm and was clearly smart enough to figure out that it meant something.)
"I should get up," Kurt said, cheeks still flushed pink with embarrassment. "And make myself a coffee..."
He looked around, trying to figure out the best way to get down from where he was sitting on Puckzilla's chest. Very carefully Kurt started moving sideways, stretching a leg down to try and feel for the ledge. Being not quite awake he realised his mistake only after he'd almost stretched himself into a vertical split.
Lucky for him one of Puckzilla's large hands caught him before it got any more ridiculous, lifting him back into a less painful position. Kurt found himself being cradled against Puckzilla's chest as the creature sat up. He sighed, curling into the warmth that surrounded him on pretty much all sides.
"So I suppose we're going to have to talk."
Puckzilla grunted an affirmative. The lizard-man stood, crossed the cave, and gently deposited Kurt next to the espresso counter.
Kurt had to laugh. Clearly Puckzilla knew how he functioned in the mornings. Kurt ran a hand through his hair and looked up at the creature. "After coffee," he agreed.
Kurt made it a triple-shot, hoping to kick start his brain a little faster than usual. He was getting used to having his coffee black, since there was nowhere to keep milk in Puckzilla's cave. It wasn't so bad, he mused to himself, sipping his coffee. At least he still had a ton of sugar-packets that had come with the counter. He wasn't going to be running out of those any time soon.
Eventually Kurt made his way to the mouth of the cave to sit on a rock near his little garden. He heard Puckzilla sit down nearby and could just see parts of the lizard-man in his peripheral vision.
"It's becoming clear," Kurt started, then hesitated. He gripped his coffee cup with both hands and took another sip before he started again. "I never thought I would actually enjoy living in a cave in the middle of nowhere. There's no phone line, no internet, no way to connect with the outside world – no electricity and yet somehow the espresso machine still runs – yet I'm not all that bothered by it. I'd like to be able to go into town now and then, maybe to start designing again. If I had some connection with the outside world I think I could be very happy here. And that's really... startling. For me."
Puckzilla touched Kurt's shoulder, fingers curling lightly over his arm.
"I miss my family," Kurt continued, "and my friends, but not as much as I thought I would. I'd like to be able to let them know that I'm fine. I can only imagine what's been said in the papers back home. For all I know they might think I'm dead." He took a deep breath, reached up to touch the large hand on his shoulder. "If I'm going to do this, if I'm going to stay here with you and be with you then I can't just stay here in the cave all day. I don't know what your culture was like, but Kurt Hummel is not a housewife."
He was going to assume that Puckzilla's chuckle was agreement.
"And as for sex..." Kurt's mind flashed back to all of those inappropriate mental images he'd ever had about a naked Puckzilla. "Well," he muttered, "it's going to be interesting."
Kurt saw Puckzilla stand up from the corner of his eye and tilted his head back to look at him. The creature bent down and reached for him, hands stopping just shy of touching him. Puckzilla cocked his head to the side, clearly asking for permission.
Kurt gave it just a moment's thought. Then he stood and put his mostly-finished coffee down on the rock. He let himself be picked up, expecting that it would somehow end up in a potentially very awkward kiss. It didn't. Instead Kurt sat in the cradle of Puckzilla's arm as the creature started to walk away from the cave.
A little confused, but having learned to trust (his) Puckzilla, Kurt let himself be carried without protest. He settled into the feeling, basking in the thin morning sunlight and watching the scenery as it slowly passed by. They passed the path that Kurt was familiar with, veering left and to a place Kurt had never been before. The forest was denser than he was used to, thick and dark and filled with the smell of damp earth.
Eventually the trees thinned out, the landscape turning to rock, and Puckzilla stopped at the mouth of a dip like a valley.
Bones, bleached white by the sun, stacked in piles like bits of driftwood, littered the ground. Huge skulls, humanlike except for the ridge of bony spikes, sat at the top of each mound. It was eerie. Cold and lonely in the sunlight.
At first Kurt wasn't sure what he was looking at. It didn't really click that he was seeing a graveyard until he noticed the etchings carved carefully into the skull on top of the closest set of bones. Japanese characters carefully chiselled just above the brow ridge in two sets, one above the other. Like a headstone. Name and date, he realised.
"Your family?" Kurt asked softly.
Puckzilla's response was a soft, solemn rumble.
He would have carved those last characters himself.
Careful not to lose his balance, but confident that Puckzilla would catch him if he happened to slip, Kurt shifted, lifting himself up onto his knees until he was level with Puckzilla's face. This was a defining moment, and Kurt was determined that it wouldn't go wrong. He leaned in, closing his eyes at the last second, and kissed Puckzilla's left cheekbone. "You're not alone," he told the lizard-creature. "You have me now."
Puckzilla responded with a rumble that sounded like Kurt's name, turning his face just enough that he could bump his nose against Kurt's cheek. Like a nuzzle. Something not quite a kiss, or at least that's the impression it gave.
Helped along by Puckzilla's careful hands Kurt sat himself down on the creature's shoulder, one arm around the back of Puckzilla's neck to steady himself. It was a more precarious pose than the fireman-carry Kurt had gotten used to but he didn't feel any less safe. It let him see the world from the same angle that Puckzilla did, surrounded by green.
And too caught up in watching the canopy to notice the group of slightly-lost hikers staring open-mouthed as Puckzilla crossed the mountain path, Kurt perched comfortably on his shoulder.