(Authors' note: Quoting from 1x21 Funk. Originally, the episodes were supposed to be aired with Funk first, then Theatricality. Then there was some crap about losing money so they switched it. *shrugs* We wrote in the original order. It makes the issues with Jesse make a lot more sense. Warnings for angst and making out. - gala and amy)
When Santana and Brittany pulled him towards the auditorium on his way into McKinley, Puck figured it was one of two things. One, they'd jacked a guitar from the band room and wanted him to play for them so they could sing to each other. If so, he was going to ignore instructions and play the chords to that Melissa Etheridge song, because if he and Kurt could be out, so could they. Or two, they wanted to simulate some great porn for him, and ask if he and Kurt wanted to join in on the real thing at Brittany's house. It wasn't an insane theory. He'd been with both of them, he knew from slightly confusing texts Brittany'd had fun with Kurt, and Santana found Kurt's occasionally bitchiness refreshing, even if she'd never compliment him like that out loud. it wouldn't even be Santana and Brittany's tenth moresome.
It was neither. It was Jesse St Douche and his Vocal Adrenaline clones, walking around on the April Rhodes stage like they fucking owned it. Puck surveyed the scene stonily.
"Go find Matt and Finn. I can't take on all thirty at once."
Santana tossed her ponytail and sniffed. "While I seriously resent your implication that I couldn't cut a bitch, fine. Come on, Brit."
Matt, Finn and Rachel were the next to show up. After a second, Rachel raced back out, probably unable to handle Finn and Jesse being in the same room. Puck couldn't discuss attack strategy, not with all the assholes so close; they'd eavesdrop and try and evade them. He just had to trust that Matt and Finn would know when to go, and how to split the group. Santana and Brittany returned, armed with Mike and Quinn. Rachel came back with the last of them. Puck spared a second to smile at Kurt, then turned his glare back to the group on stage.
The next two minutes were pretty boring; Rachel begged for an explanation, Jesse let his ego talk. When Finn stepped forward, demanding, "Why are you here?" Puck readied himself. It would have to be a 300-esque charge forward, they weren't exactly close to the stage. Still, he was confident he could make his way to the stage before they could retreat too far. But then Jesse talked more crap - and Vocal Adrenaline began their performance.
They were good. Puck couldn't deny it. They had several strong singers, their choreography was tight, and their large number made it so there were multiple points of attention at once. It was enough to make Puck hate Queen, and for that alone Jesse should die.
Puck was expecting more ego-talk from the jerk when they finished and the rest of Vocal Adrenaline walked off stage. Instead Rachel and Jesse had this moment of eyefucking, and then Jesse stalked away.
"It's a Carmel high tradition," Artie explained on their way back to the choir room. "They psych out the competition a few weeks before the big show. They call it a funkification, meaning they show us what they've got, and we spiral into a deep black funk."
Finn, ever the motivator, spoke up next. "Yeah, we used to do the same thing to football teams. Try and get inside their heads for the big game. Pull little pranks to intimidate them."
"Yeah, well the difference was our football team sucked," Puck pointed out. "Those guys are golden."
"Come on, keep your heads up guys. It's gonna take more than that to... get... us into a funk."
Puck had about ten seconds to wonder what made Kurt's initial cheery reply trail off before he entered the Glee room. Then he got it immediately. He'd have to be blind to miss the mess the room was in. it was more toilet paper than wall. If Puck was doing his vandalism math right, there were at least thirty rolls used. Probably each one of those fuckers had donated a roll or two.
"I can't believe I'm cleaning up this shit," Puck muttered as he moved the ladder a few feet to the left in preparation to climb again.
"You think you're better than us?" Quinn snapped.
"Calm your shit," Matt snapped back, not exactly calm himself. "He's used to laying this shit down, not picking it up. We all are."
"Speak for yourself," Kurt said archly.
Puck rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Fuck, he was about two years too late for an apology to Kurt and Burt for all the random property damage. If anything it made him feel angrier about the next strand he tore down. He'd gotten over his need to be a complete asshole to people that didn't deserve it. When would Jesse learn?
Tina sighed. "I feel so violated. It's like someone broke into our home."
Puck frantically cast about in his memory for having ever done anything to the Cohen-Chang household, and came up empty. Thank fuck for small miracles.
"Look, it was just a lame little prank. The fact that they're trying to get to us means we've got them spooked."
Before Puck could tell him what a load of crap that was, Mercedes spoke up. "Uh-uh, Mr Schue. They aren't afraid of anything. That number they did was fantastic. You know, which doesn't make any sense. They had all that equipment, how did they even get in?"
Puck was supremely unsurprised that Sylvester walked in at that moment, claiming to have given them keys. She'd probably hovered outside the door, waiting for the cue of someone wondering how. The only thing he caught from her ramble about her stupid fucking trophies was the reminder that Kurt and Santana and Brittany would be gone for the weekend for Nationals. The thought of the event tore at Puck. He wanted his boyfriend and best friends to kick ass. He also wanted Sylvester to lose and implode into a ball of pure misery.
Evidently she felt the same. "I recently checked the odds with my Vegas bookie, who told me that you're forty to one underdogs at Regionals. You're going to lose and your dreams will be crushed."
"Sue, can I see your trophy?"
"Sure, Will. Hope and dream."
Mr Schuester took it, and next came the most beautiful thing Puck had ever seen in his life, bar none, not even Kurt tied up and orgasming. Mr Schue threw the trophy against the wall and it shattered into fifteen pieces. Sylvester bitched a little more, but the instant she walked out, Puck started a slow clap. Matt and Mike were the first to join, and soon everyone except Schue himself were clapping.
"That was badass."
"I don't condone-"
"Violence," Tina interrupted. "Yeah, yeah, we know. But even the Cheerios have to admit she's a giant bitch. That was inspired."
"Seriously," Artie seconded.
While Kurt hadn't had enough relationship experience to know if it was true that you couldn't miss someone if they didn't go away, and Puck hadn't seemed to exhibit signs of needing some alone time, he had enough experience with sassy friends to know if he spent one more evening ignoring Mercedes' texts she was going to cut him. He had five messages from her by the time Coach Sylvester declared Cheerios practice over. The last was a straight up demand that he come over as soon as he was finished.
Okay, okay. Will be there in fifteen.
Kurt locked his knees at the hand on his back. Sylvester had spent the day sneaking up behind the Cheerios and shoving them, apparently in order to assess their ability to stand statue still. The warning text had been sent by Rochelle in the middle of first period. Kurt didn't have any trouble imagining that Sylvester had entered a class and random to shove the first Cheerio she saw. None of the teachers would have said anything to her. Well, besides Mr Schue.
Thankfully it wasn't Sylvester being a maniac. It was just Santana. "So, Hummel. You want a ride to Puck's? Or how about Finn's?"
"You know I have a car. I'm going to Mercedes' house, anyway."
"Sure you are. Just remember, you need a lot of prep before DP." She smirked before whirling around and walking away, skirt and ponytail both swaying lightly.
Kurt had his suspicions, both about what DP meant, and what Santana thought she knew. But he was just going to not think about it. He was going to have a relaxing night with Mercedes and probably Tina and Artie, and it was going to be nice, and non-sexual. Maybe there would be boardgames. And manicures.
That thought lasted as long as it took Kurt to knock on the Jones' front door. Mercedes answered with a smile and a hug, like she hadn't seen him in weeks, not just since lunch. She started to lead him to the kitchen, stopping for a moment to hang up his jacket, and handed him a glass of Sprite, smiling quizzically. "Hey... how are you?"
He was meant to complain about Cheerios practice, so she could feel justified in quitting. Kurt knew it. It was an unspoken social contract. She inquired 'generally' into his life after a practice, he talked about how awful the girls were, and how evil Sue was. It was all true, it was just something he wouldn't have dwelled on if she didn't need it.
Instead he said, "I'm pretty sure I just got instructed to use a lot of lube before letting Puck and my other secret gay lover put their cocks in my ass at the same time."
"Oh my god Kurt! A little warning next time!" Mercedes looked like she was about to stroke out.
Tina ran into the kitchen, skull pattern socks skidding on the tile. "I heard Mercedes take the Lord's name in vain. What happened? Spare no detail."
Mercedes waved a limp hand, her eyelashes fluttering. "Kurt was...describing things. Now, I'm not one of those kinds of Christians, you know I'm not. Kurt can love who he wants, even if it is Puckerman. But that was way more detail than I needed. Way more."
"Ohhh. Boyfriend T.M.I. I cannot even begin to tell you how much I wanna hear. 'Cedes, go watch an episode of The O.C. We'll be in when we're done."
"No way," she protested. "I'm your friend too; you can't just tell me to go away."
Before Kurt could point out that he hadn't said a thing, that the comment had come from Tina, the girl in question spoke up again. "Then sit down and listen to all of Kurt's angst about sex with Puck. What is it? Does he only want to top? Because-"
"Our relationship is mutual, thanks."
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense. You don't really look at Puck and think, 'Now there's a guy that only has sex in one position'. He's way hotter than that."
Mercedes rolled her head back on her neck. "Okay. If we're really having this conversation, we're going to have it somewhere comfortable."
"Living room couch with your weird-cool dimmer lights it is," Tina replied.
Kurt wasn't sure he agreed about the comfort level. The art piece showcased over the mantle on the white brick fireplace was a massive ornate cross. Jesus would be staring at him the whole time he talked about gay sex. On the other hand, he didn't believe. If Tina did - which he knew she did, if not to Quinn and Mercedes levels - and she could talk about it no problem, why should he let it bother him? And it would be nice to talk to someone that wasn't Puck or Finn about Puck and Finn. Not that he would name the latter. Outing someone was one of the worst things a suburban, non-sociopathic teenager could do.
"Living room it is," he echoed weakly.
The next half hour was like being on an afternoon talk show. Gay teen exposes kinks. He could see Mercedes' mind being pried open, one detail at a time. Tina, on the other hand, was practically salivating. She wanted to know everything about the handcuffs. When he explained the origins of their relationship and how Puck had saved him from Lipoff's cruelty, Mercedes was offended on his behalf, but Tina was completely overcome at the idea of Puck's caretaking.
"He's a lot sweeter than I ever expected," Kurt admitted.
"You can say that after he spanked you with that paddle thing?" Mercedes was clearly still ambivalent. "I don't think I could be with a boy who wanted to treat me that way."
"It's not something I ever expected to want," he said, shrugging, "but he's not doing anything I didn't ask for." He knew he wasn't going to sell Mercedes on BDSM, probably not ever. He put a hand on top of hers. "Don't worry about me getting hurt. It's - amazing, and completely consensual."
"I can't help worrying about you. And this other guy... you're going along with what Puck wants about that too." She frowned. "Seems like he's using you for his kinky playground."
Kurt thought, for the millionth time, of the overwhelming emotions he'd felt, being there with Puck resting his head on Finn's thigh while he'd fingered him. "It's our mutual kinky playground," he said fervently. "And as much as I was scared to include a third, it feels... incredible to trust Puck that much, and to know he trusts me." He wasn't going to say anything about how he felt about Finn, because if he said anything that sounded like love, it would prompt a whole series of questions he wasn't going to answer.
Tina sighed, but she didn't appear worried; rather, she sounded jealous. "Artie would never do that. I don't think he even thinks about anything more kinky than dirty talk. It's embarrassing to always be the one volunteering the weird stuff."
At least Mercedes wasn't looking at him like he was sick or going to hell, just because she didn't agree with his kinks. "You do seem happy," she admitted, hugging him. "And that's really nice to see, Kurt. You deserve that."
Sometimes Puck felt like he and Finn had a kind of telepathic connection. He never would have said this aloud, because it would have been douchy beyond belief, but when Schue started in on the harmless pranks the Glee club could carry out to exact revenge on Vocal Adrenaline, their eyes met. It wasn't getting naked that was going through their minds at that moment. It could have been written on an enormous neon sign, the course of action they would be taking in the grey dawn in the Carmel parking lot in Akron: slash the tires of every one of the goddamn Range Rovers, and slash Jesse's twice.
Puck had shown up on Finn's porch at four in the morning, dressed sufficiently in black that he'd be adequately camouflaged. He hadn't intended for the leather to be sexy at all, but the looks Finn was giving him as they started out for Akron bordered on smouldering. By the time they got there, stoked on caffeine and loud road music and adrenaline, he was certain he wasn't the only one who was hard. Plunging his knife again and again into the thick rubber of the tires didn't help at all.
it was still dark out when they were done, although the sky was beginning to haze over. Even if there had been anyone to see them in the parking lot, Puck was pretty sure they could have gotten away without being noticed - if Finn hadn't reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him between two lopsided Range Rovers and kissing him hard. Whatever distance Puck had been trying to give him was eliminated in that moment. He had his hand wedged in Finn's jeans when the flashlight beam hit them, illuminating their completely obvious activities.
"Oh," said Finn, eyes shifting wildly from side to side, "we were just - we weren't -"
"Never mind," said a familiar crisp voice. The flashlight swiveled up to the stern face of Shelby Corcoran. "You break into our grounds and damage school property, and you think I'm going to care about two gay kids making out?"
"I'm not," Finn protested, which, really, Puck thought he was just making Ms. Corcoran's point for her. He nudged Finn into silence.
"You caught us. What's our sentence? Because if you've got nothing, we've got a long drive back to school, and Finn at least doesn't want to be late for first period."
Her mouth tightened. "Oh, no. I'm taking you back to Mr. Schuester myself." She watched Finn go apoplectic, and sighed. "Don't worry, I'm not going to out you. But one of you is coming with me in my car, and you're handing over your phones until I can get some answers."
It was a long, tense ride back to Lima, but Puck could only imagine how Finn was holding up in Mrs. Corcoran's car. By the time they made it back to McKinley, first bell had already rung and everybody was in class. Mrs. Corcoran marched them into the office and stated firmly that she needed an audience with the principal. Mr Schue appeared a few minutes later, and he didn't look happy.
"Puck," he sighed, "I'm guessing you didn't steal their school statue. What did you do?"
"I was there, too," Finn said, startling Schue into silence. He looked back and forth between them and Mrs. Corcoran, but he didn't ask any more questions until they had their audience with Principal Figgins.
"Yeah, I did it," Puck snapped. "All I did was step up and be a man. They got what was coming to them."
But FInn's reaction was way out of proportion with the kind of fear authority usually generated in him. Puck always resisted authority, but Finn usually made a strong showing, polite and responsible and apologetic. Not today, though. Today he looked like he was going to puke. Puck wished he could reach out and take his hand.
Schue, once again proved that he was master of trying to get his kids out of shit. After Mrs Corcoran babbled about how stupidly rich all her students were, Mr Schue protested with, "Look, nobody got hurt. It was a harmless prank, that's all!"
Under the obnoxious and grating tone of Sylvester starting up some rant that's what they said about a young man in Chicago, Finn said in a tone Puck had never really heard from him before: "And I kissed Puck."
Sylvester stopped dead in her tracks for about three seconds. Then she had more crap to say which Puck attempted to tune out.
"What, Finn?" Schue asked, like he didn't believe what he'd heard.
"It was a harmless prank... and I kissed Puck. It's why we got caught. I'm sorry. For stabbing the cars." He gave him a brief glance. "Not for kissing him."
"Isn't Puck dating Kurt?" He was so clearly confused by the state of things, Puck felt like he needed to set him down and give him The Talk. For now, he was gonna have to stay confused, though, because he didn't think he could take his eyes off Finn. He wanted to call in some serious favors with G_d because the kind of things he wanted to say to him without words were pretty damned complicated. And important. And fuck Schue, he didn't care who was looking. He reached over and grabbed Finn's hand off his knee, clasping it tight. Finn startled, his eyes still a little wild, but there was no sign of hyperventilation or wanting to bolt. In his own Finn way, he was dealing with it, and Puck felt so goddamn proud of him he would have risked a hell of a lot more than a sanction from the principal.
Principal Figgins sounded exasperated. "I don't care about any of this. What you boys did was a felony, and you're hereby expelled!"
Ms. Corcoran shook her head. "I don't want anyone to get expelled. I'm not going to press charges, as long as you pay for the damage. You can take it out of the Glee club budget."
"That'll bankrupt the Glee club," Mr. Schuester protested. "We don't have that kind of money."
"We'll get jobs!" Finn shouted. Puck got the seriousness of the situation, but even for it Finn seemed a bit frantic. "Give us a month. We'll pay you back, Mrs Corcoran, I promise."
She eyed Mr. Schue, but finally sighed. "Fine."
Figgins smiled beatifically. "Mrs Corcoran, you are as wise and magnanimous as you are beautiful."
Puck winced. Figgins should never hit on anyone. It was like federal law. But it gave them an opportunity to make a reasonably speedy exit in one direction while Ms. Corcoran took off in the other. Mr. Schue just gave them a hard look and said, "Get to class, guys, and... we'll talk about this later."
Finn watched Schue head down the hallway, his cheeks flushed, but he was almost smiling. "We're not going to class, are we?"
"Fuck no we're not. When you're already in trouble, you take advantage of it." He headed for the side exit by the cafeteria, Finn trailing him close behind.
"I'm not exactly used to getting in trouble," he said. "I think you might have to give me pointers or something."
Puck slammed the doors open and made a beeline for the fence on the other side of the dumpsters. "Yeah, I think you know exactly what I'm going to give you." He reached out behind him, collaring Finn by his flannel shirt and hauling him around in front of him. It took him four steps to get him up against the fence, and then he was kissing him, relishing all the muffled noises FInn was making, but not nearly as much as he was relishing the fact that he wasn't taking off.
"You're my fucking hero," he declared, grinding against Finn's thigh while Finn's eyes rolled up into his head. "We would have gone to prison if you hadn't done what you did."
"I kind of can't believe I did." Finn looked pretty amazed, or was that turned on beyond belief, because they looked a lot alike? "I just couldn't let you take the fall for this. It was the two of us, together."
"You're telling me." He couldn't help grinning at Finn, which made him grin back, and then they were laughing against each other's mouths. Puck took a cursory glance around, but the spot was just as deserted as it had been originally when Lipoff had cuffed Kurt here, months ago. "And you don't give a shit that anybody could walk by and see us here?"
Finn shrugged, still grinning. "Who hangs out behind the kitchen? I don't know. I think being bad feels kind of good."
"Yeah, I kind of like you bad." He kissed him once more, then took his hand, towing him toward the parking lot. "Come on. There's one more person you need to talk to."
Five minutes later, Puck was standing outside Kurt's class, tapping on the glass. Six people noticed and passed the word across the room before Kurt looked up. There were definite advantages to being out in Glee, and so far it hadn't had major repercussions outside of that, but people were starting to put it together. Nobody was glaring at them, anyway, and Kurt didn't hesitate to come to the front of the room and point at Puck in the hallway. He poked his head out the door, looking more curious than wary.
"Where were you this morning?" Kurt asked. Puck handed him the pass Ms. P had written him.
"You need to hear it from the source," he said. "You're not going to believe it."
Finn was waiting in the back of the Navigator (somehow he'd been impressed that Kurt would trust him with a key to his car, which seemed kind of ridiculous considering Kurt had asked Puck to lock him in handcuffs). He gave Kurt a sheepish smile when he opened the back door and saw him there.
"Start at the beginning," Puck said, climbing into the front. He watched over the edge of the seat while Kurt sat cross-legged on top of the blankets, listening to Finn with wide eyes as he explained where they'd been that morning.
"Tell me you got pictures," Kurt begged, clutching at Finn's leg. He laughed.
"It was a little dark. I think you'll have to imagine it."
Fuck that, Puck was already planning to recreate their costumes for Kurt the next time they all got together. Because in this moment, it was clear it would happen again. He listened with satisfaction as Kurt gasped at Finn telling all the adults about them making out in the Carmel parking lot. He launched himself at Finn in an enormous hug.
"What did Mr. Schue do?" he demanded. "Hell, what did Figgins do? Did he pray for you? He's always doing that to me."
"I don't think anybody knew what to do. We were already in so much trouble." He stroked Kurt's shoulder absently, thinking about it. Puck didn't miss the expression of bliss on Kurt's face. "I guess I'll have to talk to Mr. Schue later. I didn't - I mean, I didn't say anything about me. Just about what we did."
"It's a start," said Kurt firmly. "You were so brave."
Puck remembered hearing those words from Kurt when he'd sung for him in Glee, how much they'd meant to him. Hearing him say them now to Finn was almost better, in a way. Finn, however, looked uncomfortable.
"I don't know how to explain what happened with me and Puck to Mr. Schue, if the two of you are together. I..." He sighed, leaning back against the wall of the Navigator. "I don't know what to do next."
Kurt leaned forward, crawling on all fours until he was practically sitting in Finn's lap, nose to nose. Finn looked startled, but Puck smiled at how readily he opened his arms to hold Kurt. He rested his forehead against Finn's with a little sigh.
"How about you kiss me?"
Finn was trying for the tenth time to get all the facecloths to fit on the Sheets 'n' Things display when Puck walked over. "Come on man, you've been doing that forever. Lets take a break."
"Are we allowed to take a break?"
Puck shrugged. "Probably not. But she's also not allowed to pay us under minimum wage. And yet... So come on. Ten minute coffee break."
Finn thought it was a lot more likely that he'd just guzzle back a Mountain Dew. Same amount of caffeine, while not tasting like burnt death. At least, he would if there were some in the vending machine in the staff room. He'd only been working for a few hours, not long enough to memorise all the snack options. But bending down to peer at the bottom row of bags of chips turned out to be a very, very bad idea as Puck brushed against him from behind. Finn swallowed a whimper.
"Sorry," said Puck, not sounding at all sorry. Finn wanted to glare at him, but all he could do was avoid his eyes and try to eliminate the persistent image of Puck on Kurt's bed, his legs spread wide, Kurt pressing two fingers inside him and himself adding the third.
"I don't think we should do this at work," he said.
Puck snorted. "Tell me you have any kind of respect for Mrs. ex-Schue." He set a hand on Finn's back, just above the waistband of his jeans. Finn felt his ass contract at the contact. "We're taking a break. Pretty sure we're not bothering anybody back here."
Finn moved away from Puck's hand, taking a seat on the lumpy couch. Puck sat across from him, teetering a little on the folding chair, and handed him a bottle of Dew, watching him with a little frown.
"I don't get you sometimes, Hudson. You were pretty badass the other day in Figgins' office. You didn't have any problem making out with me at school, but you don't want to do it in a pitiful excuse for a break room at the mall? What the fuck is this room for, if not for making out? And in the meantime, we've wasted three-tenths of our break talking about it." He gave Finn's shoe a little kick. "Tell me I'm not wasting my time here."
"No. I'm... no." Finn shook his head, feeling muddled. "Just because I don't want to at work doesn't mean I don't want to. But, dude, we can't lose this job."
Puck shrugged, opening his own bottle. "Suit yourself." He put the bottle to his mouth, his lips around the rim. Finn helplessly watched his throat work as he swallowed. God, why was every little thing Puck did a turn-on? He adjusted himself, trying not to watch Puck watching him do it, and drank his soda as quickly as he could.
"We've got four minutes. Last chance until nine o'clock."
In a display of how his body and brain always wanted different things, Finn took the few steps necessary to cross the small room, and when Puck stood to meet him, licked the length of Puck's neck. Kurt wouldn't mind if he left a hickey, would he? Whatever. This was a situation where it was better to do now and apologise later. He got as far as his teeth bared when the doorknob audibly clicked. Finn darted away, leaning against the vending machine.
Howard came in the next moment, glaring at him. "This isn't your break, this is my break. Go back on the floor."
Heart racing, Finn fled to the front of the store. He needed a chance to think. Mrs Schuster liked him more than Puck. If he was at the front of the store and Puck was at the back, she'd probably make Puck do more of the heavy lifting store room stuff, even though it was technically Finn's turn.
The problem was obvious. Puck and Kurt were hot. Finn had left their threesome -their second threesome? Did the holding Kurt's hand one count, just because he'd had an orgasm?- certain about one thing. If he spent any amount of time with Puck and Kurt he would end up doing sexy things. The solution he'd come up with had been to only spend time with them individually. A completely crap solution, really. It was like that Greek hydra thing from when he started reading Greek myths for kids, after watching Disney's Hercules. Together Puck and Kurt were this hot beast. Cut them in half, and they should die, but all of a sudden there's just double the amount of hot.
The real solution was equally obvious. He just didn't want to use it. Finn needed to cockblock himself. He needed to only hang out with Puck and Kurt in situations in which copping a feel would be impossible. School was fine because there were so many other students; Hudson-Hummel dinners were fine because of their parents. But if he wanted to hang out with Puck in the future, Sarah would have to be there. Or Matt and Mike. And if he wanted to hang out with Kurt, he'd make sure to invite Artie along too. It felt like a reasonable, sensible decision. He wondered why he didn't feel better about making it.
Thankfully, Finn barely saw Kurt at all in the next few days. He was busy with preparing for Nationals in Coach Sylvester's absence, and when he wasn't at practice, he was spending time with Mercedes. He ran into them after school at Kurt's house one afternoon, listening with half an ear to her ranting about Quinn.
"I don't know, Kurt," she said. "That lily-white girl, thinking she knows funk? She was good, I guess, but nine months of feeling on the outside for once does not mean she understands. We're approaching epic fail on this assignment."
Finn spoke up before he really thought it through. "I have a funk song. Me and Mrs Schuester looked it up on iTunes at work."
Mercedes and Kurt gave him identical ironic eyebrows. "Finn," Kurt said, clasping his hands, "you do understand about the dancing part."
"Yeah, but this is the kind of dancing I can do. I mean, not like Mike or Matt, or even Puck, but I'm not too shabby." He felt a little defensive, trying to figure out how to explain the breakdancing stage he and Puck had gone through in middle school, and finally settled on, "We practiced a lot. I bet I remember most of it."
"Really."
"Actually, Mercedes, it would be really cool if you joined me and Puck. We could do the rap parts, and you could do the runs. You're really good at runs." And if she joined them, they could actually do the assignment. Under his new self-imposed rules, Finn couldn't just invite Puck to join him. He needed a barrier. A diamond hard wall of Absolutely No Sex.
Her dubious expression was beginning to give way to curiosity. "What kind of runs?"
Finn didn't know Mercedes all that well. His diva of choice had always been Rachel, even when Quinn had been his girlfriend. But he knew divas well enough to know that question in that tone meant she was sold. He didn't even need Kurt's encouraging smile.
"I bet Puck's home. I'll text him to make sure, and then we can go to his house to practice? We're working most evenings, but we weren't scheduled tonight, so if you're free-?"
"I still need to know what kind of runs." She sighed like he was troubling her, but Kurt's fond look clued him in that Mercedes was fine. She probably liked being first pick. It was always a good feeling when Mr Schuester did it. "But yes. My curfew is ten though."
"That's cool. I like to be home when my mom gets home from work anyway." Yes. This was going to help. Focusing on performing instead of... other things. He smiled gratefully at Mercedes, avoiding Kurt's suspicious stares, and ignored the visions of Puck dancing in his head.
www. youtube watch?v=0xDf-_8KvGM
You've got these little things
That you've been running from
You either love them or I guess you don't
You're such a pretty thing
To be running from anyone
A vision with nowhere to go
So tell me right now
You think you're ready for it
I wanna know
Why you got me going
So let's go
We'll take it out of here
I think I'm ready to leap
I'm ready to live
I'm ready to go
(Get me out of my mind
Get me out of my mind)
I'm ready to go
You've got these little things
You wanted something for them
You either get it or I guess you won't
What does it really mean
To get nothing from anyone?
There's a million ways it could go
I think I'm ready I think
I know I'm ready I know
I think I'm ready I think
I know I'm ready I know
I think I'm ready I think
I know I'm ready I know
I think I'm ready I think
I know
- Panic! At the Disco, "Ready To Go (Get Me Out Of My Mind)"