Pairing: Puck / Kurt
Spoilers: AU
Rating: T
moondreamr prompted: puckurt, season 4 compliant-ish, where Puck moves to New York to be the Pucker Man and Kurt finds him? IDK XD
Puck was just stepping out onto the sidewalk, grocery bag in hand, when someone knocked into him, nearly pushing him right over. His bag of groceries fell to the sidewalk as he flailed for a second, trying not to lose his footing. He took a step back for stability, hands instinctively reaching out to grab the shoulders of the other person to keep them from falling on top of him.
"I am so sorry," breathed out a soft voice in exclamation. "I wasn't looking, I'm really sor… Puck?"
Puck couldn't help but grin broadly. Of all the people in all of New York, he had been plowed into by Kurt Hummel.
"Dude, you should have stayed in football," said Puck, laughing. "We could have used you."
Kurt let out a surprised laugh before wincing as if he just noticed Puck's good scattered at their feet and at risk of being kicked and stepped on by passersby. He quickly bent down, shoving his phone in his coat pocket, and began gathering up the food.
"I really am sorry," he said as he worked.
"Eh, whatever," answered Puck, shrugging a shoulder as he bent down to work alongside Kurt. "It wasn't like I was planning on eating this shit anyway."
"What are you doing in New York?" asked Kurt once they had finished salvaging Puck's purchases. "I thought you were in Los Angeles or San Francisco."
"Apparently," started Puck, pulling his refilled cloth grocery bag up onto his shoulder as they both straightened, "some well-meaning, moron of a teacher sent in a bunch of applications to colleges in my name."
"There seemed to be a lot of that going around last year," muttered Kurt.
"Yeah, well, the whole LA scene wasn't really my thing after all," said Puck, shrugging, "and since I got accepted into this college here in NYC, I thought maybe I'd give it a try. I start in the new year."
"That's amazing, Puck!" exclaimed Kurt. "What school?"
"Uh, I forget," answered Puck, his brow furrowing. Kurt gave him an incredulous look. "Manhattan something."
"Well," said Kurt, seemingly at least partially mollified by that, "that's really great. I'm excited to see another familiar face; we need to keep in touch. Is your cell the same number as before?"
"Yep," answered Puck.
"Great! I really need to run, but it was so good to see you and I'll text you later, okay?" said Kurt in a rush of words before he was patting Puck's shoulder and speed-walking away.
Puck watched him go feeling gobsmacked by the entire run-in, but mostly by the true confidence in which Kurt held himself (not the feinted confidence he hid behind back in high school) and how well he seemed to fit into the New York scenery –nearly catastrophic run-in aside. Puck grinned to himself once Kurt had disappeared into the crowd, cell phone already at his ear again, his fitted trench coat swaying in the breeze, and brown satchel knocking against his side as he walked, Kurt had finally found his home.
Kurt kept his promise, sending Puck a text that very evening. They messaged back and forth, catching up on each other's lives. Puck learned that Kurt was living with Rachel which he called him crazy for, and Puck shared with Kurt that he wanted to write songs. Over the next couple weeks, it turned into a habit for them to text each other a number of times each day. Sending little comments and jokes back and forth, asking questions, sharing tidbits about their day. It was nice to have each other for a friend.
Kurt was busy with his job at Vogue, keeping Rachel with every freak-out she had over every miniscule thing happening in her life, and getting a performance ready for his audition to NYADA. Puck was busy with two jobs, one at a pub down the street (one half was a restaurant and the other a bar which was a great because that technicality allowed him to work on the bar side even while under 21), and one at the convenience store across the street from his apartment. So, because of their conflicting schedules, they never actually saw each other in person again until three weeks later when there was a knock at Puck's apartment door at a quarter past midnight.
Puck was half-asleep, sprawled out on his dinky little hideaway bed watching reruns of shitty sitcoms in just his boxers and black tank top when he heard the knock. Brow furrowing, he got up and groggily made his way to his door. When he looked through the peephole, it was to find Kurt. He slid the locks over and opened the door.
"Kurt?" he asked, voice a little rough from disuse. "What's up, man?"
"Hi… uh, I'm sorry it's so late," he said, sounding breathless with nerves. He was shuffling on his feet anxiously and had a duffle bag in one hand. "I would have been here sooner but the address I wrote down on paper was smudged and I guessed that it said Sheridan instead of Sherman."
"You just come from the gym?" asked Puck in confusion as he eyed the bag in Kurt's hand.
Kurt's cheeks pinked just slightly and he shook his head while smiling an embarrassed smile that looked more like a grimace. Puck felt like he was missing something.
"No, um…" said Kurt haltingly. "You didn't get my text?"
Puck glanced over at the kitchen counter to his right to where his phone was charging.
"I should have known better to come without getting a reply," sighed Kurt. "I'm sorry, I'll just—"
"What's going on, Kurt?"
"Rachel and I had a little… disagreement about how to be a considerate roommate," said Kurt. "I was hoping I could borrow your couch for the night."
"Oh, uh, well you definitely can stay here if you want, but…"
"Shit," gasped Kurt. "You have a girl over, I'm sorry, I'll just go!"
"Why would you think that I… nevermind, no I just meant…" Puck trailed off as he pulled his door open wider so Kurt could see into his apartment.
He lived in a tiny studio apartment. One wall had a counter, sink, mini stove, slim refrigerator, and a few cupboards. There was a closet on the other side of the room with a little bathroom next to it. In the center of the room was his hideaway bed, as well as a beat up, old dresser with a flat screen TV perched on top.
"Oh," said Kurt, "Well."
"You can definitely borrow my couch tonight, dude," said Puck, stepping to the side to let Kurt enter his tiny apartment, "but you're gonna have to share."
