(Author's note: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I've been a little busy with end of semester! Looking forward to a summer of writing every day... Usual warnings apply, for D/s and mentions of abuse.)
After she'd noticed his sober expression that afternoon, Mercedes had convinced Kurt to come to her house and hang out with her and Tina that night. But Kurt hadn't been able to focus on the girls, and Puck's frequent texts just drew him further into his own head until he stopped talking to them altogether. His distraction caused Mercedes to work extra hard to distract Tina from noticing, and he could tell she was getting more and more annoyed with him. Finally she cornered him in the bathroom.
"Look, Kurt, whatever's going on between you and that boy is your business," she said, pointing a finger in the supposed direction of that boy, who seemed to be located by the towel rod. "But this is not the Kurt Hummel I know and love. You're moody. You're distant. And you totally missed all the subtly nasty and hilarious things I said about Rachel in the last hour." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Can you get this fixed on your own, or do I need to stage an intervention?"
"I don't know," he moaned, putting his palms into his eyes and pressing. "I'm sorry. It's really confusing right now. I don't know what I want with Finn."
She reached up and took his hand. "You seemed to have plenty to say to him in those text messages."
"Uh, no, that was… Noah." He blushed, remembering the content. Somehow the shyness he felt around Finn just melted away around Puck, leaving this scandalous, sex-filled creature he scarcely recognized. I always thought I wanted romance, he said. Maybe I really wanted… something else.
"I'm so not ready to hear about that," said Mercedes, giving a little shudder. "Puckerman… honestly, Kurt. Don't you think he's, I don't know, a little skanky? He's had, like, a lot of different girls. And, apparently, guys." She peered at him from under an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're being safe?"
"Yes, we're being safe." He didn't answer the other dig. It was all too true, and there was no answer that would satisfy Mercedes without revealing too many personal details about what they had done together. Kurt's stomach fluttered as the image of Noah crossed his mind, bent over his knee, his bare ass in the air. She really wouldn't get that. I'm not even sure I do.
She watched his face for a minute, concerned. Then she sighed. "Kurt," she said, and her voice was contrite. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me. You don't have to justify your… your love for anyone." Her lips twitched on the word love, but she pressed on. "You need a friend. I want to be there for you, no matter how bizarre I find the situation."
He breathed a deep, rolling sigh. "It's pretty bizarre," he admitted. "I'd forgotten how much work it takes to be in the closet, Mercedes. Finn, and… and Noah – it's so stressful on them. I can't –"
"Kurt? Mercedes?" said Tina, popping her head into the bathroom. She looked around, confused. "Are you okay?"
"I, uh, left my coat in here," said Kurt vaguely. "I need to head home." Mercedes shot him a sympathetic look, but he brushed it off, hoisting his messenger bag over his shoulder.
"I'll talk to you later," she said, hugging him. Tina gave him a half wave. He knew she'd grill Mercedes later about what was really up, but he trusted Mercedes to keep his secrets… for now. She was a good friend, but had a hard time resisting the really juicy gossip. Luckily for him, this seemed to be too unusual even for her to talk about.
Kurt drove in a distracted half-daze to Puck's house. He couldn't get one image out of his head, the one in which Finn sat with Puck – with Noah – on his lap, holding him, telling him he belonged to him. It wasn't quite paternal, and not quite sexual, and stirred up very confusing feelings inside him when he thought about what they were doing. He felt jealous, but he wasn't exactly sure of what, or of whom. He felt left out, but he wasn't exactly clear what his role should be in this situation. And he definitely felt uncomfortable at the idea that someone, a grown person, or nearly grown, could… own another person. It made him feel tight inside, like he didn't quite fit into his own skin.
Then he thought about the embrace they'd given him that afternoon, the gentle kisses and encouraging words, and he felt a wave of longing. That had felt so good, so right, and he wished he hadn't pushed them away.
He parked in front of Puck's house and walked up to the door , but before he could ring the bell, the door opened suddenly and Sarah was there, eyes huge, with a finger over her lips, pulling him through the door and into the dim kitchen.
"They're fighting," she whispered, tugging on his arm. He followed her down the dark hallway, into her room. He could hear Puck's voice raised in anger, saying, "He's been my best friend since I was eight, Ma!"
"Oh, no, Noah Aaron Puckerman, the last time I turned around, friends didn't do the things you're telling me about," said a shrill, fierce voice, and Kurt felt a thread of fear wind its way down his spine.
"She's calling him by all three names," Sarah said, low, but not scared, and he relaxed a fraction at the look on her face. "That's better than what she was calling him earlier."
"He – he told her about Finn?" he said, swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat.
"And about you," she said. He heard something large and heavy fall to the floor, or possibly it had been thrown, he couldn't tell. The yelling went on, indistinct. He fought an urge to listen at the door.
"Sarah," he said, and she looked at him. He hesitated. "Is he… going to get hurt?"
"No," she said, and she was so matter-of-fact that he believed her. "Ma gets loud and mean, but she hasn't ever hit us."
"I want – can I do anything to help him?" He flinched at another heavy sound, this one definitely from something hitting the wall. "God. I'm not used to this."
She surprised him by taking his hand in her thin one and pulling him over to her bed. They clambered up and sat, against the wall with their legs sticking out, like they were on the couch. The room was dim, but he could see the same sparse décor as Puck had had in his room: bare dresser, desk, plain colors. A Lady Gaga poster hung on the wall, next to a Miyazaki movie poster.
He picked up a worn teddy bear from the bed, looked at Sarah, who nodded, and hugged it to his chest.
"Ma yells, but then she calms down and apologizes. She's not there yet. Noah's doing okay." A barrage of curses filtered through the wall and made Kurt catch his breath, but Sarah seemed unperturbed. "It'll be over soon. He's going to need you afterwards."
"God," he said again, and sighed shakily. "I rather think it's going to be the other way around."
"Uh, no," she said, and her voice was pure scorn. "It's pretty clear who's in charge here, and it's definitely not my brother."
Kurt felt his face grow hot. "Are you sure we should be talking about -?"
"Look, nobody knows Noah like me, all right?" she said. "We're pretty much either of us ever had. I know he's a total jerk to most people. I know, for the first time, like, ever, he's not being a jerk. And I see how he is around you."
"How is he around me?" whispered Kurt, guiltily.
"Like you're two magnets," she said. "He can't think about or look at anything but you." She picked a piece of skin off one cuticle, avoiding his eyes. "And I saw how he was in the kitchen, the other day. When you were kissing."
Kurt's blush spread to his neck and shoulders. He felt sweat bead on his forehead and he wiped it, heedlessly, with the cuff of his Marc Jacobs sateen twill button-down. "How was that?"
She bit the cuticle. "He would have done anything you said."
The thrill that flew through his body was entirely inappropriate, he thought, with him being in this close proximity to Noah's little sister, and he resisted asking any more questions. They sat on the bed in silence, her chewing her cuticles to bits, him listening for any more yelling.
"They seem to have stopped," said Kurt.
"He'll come to me when they're done," she said. It wasn't a question. She knew it. He looked at her appraisingly.
"How old are you?"
"Older than you," she shot out. "Some things change you."
He looked at the dark circles under her eyes, the solemn expression, the slumped shoulders, and he knew it was true, too. He reached for her hand, without really thinking about it, and she took it. She held onto it like a parched person might beg for a glass of water.
"Eleven next week," she added, and he squeezed her hand.
They sat with the lights off, feet dangling, listening to the silence, holding hands, and it didn't feel weird, not even a little. "I don't have a sister," he said.
"Want one?" she said.
He smiled. "Sure."
"I'll steal your snacks," she warned.
"It's better that way," he assured her. "You're too young to need to watch your weight. I have to be careful of my figure."
"Good luck with that around here," she said. "Noah will keep you full and happy."
A warm feeling burned in his stomach. Full and happy. Then he thought of Finn, holding Noah, and the thought curdled like sour milk.
Sarah's door opened and Puck slipped in, saying, "Holy fuck, Sarah, how many times does she need to bring up grandchildren, honestly? I mean, shit, I'm –" and stopped short as he saw Kurt. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and he just closed it again and stood there.
"You told her," Kurt said softly. He realized he was gripping Sarah's hand too tightly and he let it go.
"Yeah," Puck said, and the word was one long breath. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, like he was trying to hold something in. He laughed, one short sound. "She blamed Glee, can you believe it? Said we were all a bunch of –" He stopped, looked at Kurt, his lips tight. Kurt realized he was furious.
"It's okay, Noah," he said, but Puck shook his head, back and forth, like he couldn't stop.
"It's not fucking okay, Kurt," he said. "She can't talk about you – about us – like that. We're awesome, we're – this is – "
"Shh, okay, you're right, it's just fine," he soothed, moving without thinking to stand before him, and Puck opened his arms and grabbed on tight to Kurt, breathing heavily. He went on, his mouth buried in Kurt's neck.
"It's the best thing ever, and it just pisses me off that she can't see it." He pulled back to look Kurt in the face. Puck's eyes looked very green in the dim light of the room, and Kurt couldn't look away.
"Kurt, you have to know – you have to know – this is not just about you and me. You and Finn – you have something really important here. He misses you. I miss you, too. We really need you. It's not the same without you."
"I – I miss you too, Noah," Kurt said, choking on the words. "It's just not that simple."
"No, dammit, it really is," Puck said, grabbing Kurt's shoulders and giving him a little shake. "You belong with us."
"With you?" Kurt said. But not to you, he thought.
"Yeah!" Puck said. His voice was tight with frustration and suppressed anger. Kurt stroked his hair, trying to bring him down, but he was too wound up.
Sarah cleared her throat, and it seemed that both Kurt and Puck remembered she was there at the same moment. They exchanged a look, and let go of one another, backing off.
"I think you can go talk to Ma now," Sarah said. "I bet she's ready to apologize."
"I don't know," said Puck, but he moved toward the door. "There were more flying missiles than usual."
Kurt uncertainly followed him down the hall and back to the family room, trying not to chew a hole in his lip. He saw a woman with dark hair and a blotchy, tense face sitting in a pile of tissues. He hung back while Puck sat beside her on the brown couch.
"Noah," she said, wiping her eyes, "I'm so sorry."
"Ma, this is Kurt," Puck said quickly. "He's the other part."
"The… other part, huh?" she said, and she held out a hand to touch Kurt, though she did not quite shake his hand. "Come over here, Kurt."
He walked over, self-conscious, suddenly, for the first time in ages, of his style and attitude, of how much he looked different from Puck, who was all muscles and sculpted planes. He sank down next to Puck on the couch, trying to be confident without looking arrogant. "Good evening, Mrs. Puckerman," he offered.
She looked at him, then past him. "How does this happen, Noah? How do you go from dating someone like Rachel – to…" She gestured at Kurt, and he felt his face go red.
"Ma, be civil," Puck ground out through gritted teeth.
She coughed. "Noah tells me he's cooking dinner for you and… Finn, tomorrow night." She said the word Finn in a strangled voice, but she got it out.
"That's right," he said. "My father will be there, and Finn's mother. We'd… we'd really like it if you would join us as well."
"I think you might be better off not having me there," she said, and then she smiled, and it was Noah's smile, and Kurt was smiling back despite himself. "But I suppose I'd better go, since I'm invited."
Kurt took a breath. "Mrs. Puckerman, I want you to know I really… care for Noah." He glanced at Puck, who was staring at Kurt. "He's good at pretending to be… not a nice person. But I know the truth, how good and generous and gentle he is. I'm guessing you know these things about him because you're his mother." He took another breath, trying to keep going, not to lose momentum. "But I had to learn it, just this week. And now – I just feel so lucky to know him. To know him, for real."
"Kurt," she said, and her voice held more warmth. "It's good to hear anyone saying they understand my Noah. I know he's a good boy, but sometimes it's not obvious."
"Kurt helps me be better," Puck said softly. He did not look at Kurt, but Kurt felt the weight of Puck's gaze in his mother' eyes.
"Well," she said. "That definitely counts for something, even from a – from you."
"Ma," Puck said, his voice escalating.
"Noah, you're going to have to give your old lady a break," she scolded. "It's not easy, this business, with you and Kurt and… Finn." She shook her head. "I don't understand that. You've known him all your life, and suddenly things are different?"
"The list, Ma," Puck said suddenly. She looked at him, questioning. "Remember you had me write the list of all the things I wanted from a girl? That was Finn, Ma. Everything on the list. That's when I realized. It didn't matter he wasn't a girl."
"That – hmmm," she said, frowning at Kurt. "And you? You're just, okay, with Noah and Finn, being together. Like that." She looked like she was trying not to let her lip curl.
"They love each other," Kurt said, not answering the question. Puck looked at him sharply, but his mother was already responding.
"Love only takes you so far. You have to be willing to work for a good relationship." She crossed her arms and tears welled up. "Noah, what about children?"
"I've got that covered, Ma," Puck said, and it was Kurt's turn to stare at Puck. He couldn't be talking about…?
"But how can they be raised in a family like… like this?" She wrung her hands and turned a look of such reproach onto Puck that Kurt felt like standing in the way of it, just to shield him from it. It was a moment of insight: This is why he needs us to take him apart and put him back together. This is why he needs that kind of intense support, from Finn. From me. Because of the way his parents have treated him. He felt such sudden anger that he rose to his feet.
"If we choose to raise children in a relationship like this, they'll have three times as many parents as any of us had," said Kurt. "I can't really see how that could be a bad thing."
"But children need a mother," she said. Kurt felt himself swell up with indignation, but he kept his voice as calm as he could manage. He looked her straight in the face.
"My mother died eight years ago," he said. "My father has provided more than enough parenting for me. I think I turned out just fine. I'm proud of who I am. Noah and Finn are two of the best people I know. I don't think you can judge us just because of who we love."
Kurt reached out and took Puck's hand. Puck didn't say anything, but his eyes spoke volumes. Together, they walked down the hall into the dim kitchen, and Puck's mother didn't follow them.
As soon as they were out of sight, Kurt grabbed Puck and rolled him into as fierce an embrace as he could muster, wrapping his arms and tongue around Puck's and leaving him breathless. "Fucking incredible," Puck whispered into his ear, when he could speak again.
"Nobody treats my Noah that way," Kurt growled, holding him tight. "You're perfect the way you are."
Puck stopped breathing for a moment and got very still. "What is it?" said Kurt.
"Yours…?" Puck's voice was small and uncertain.
"Yes," Kurt said, with enough certainty for both of them. "Yes, mine. Mine." And he kissed him again, claiming his mouth.
"I understand now," he continued, after a long moment in which the only sounds were grunts and moans and soft wet points of connection. "I thought when Finn said he owned you that it was about possession, or control. But it's not." He stroked Puck's head.
"What's it about, then?" Puck said, dazed.
"Love," Kurt said. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to protect you. With my life, Noah. You're my responsibility. That's just the way it is."
"God," Puck said, and hitched a small sob, pressing his face into Kurt's shoulder.
"I hope that's what you want, because I'm afraid you don't get any say in it," Kurt added, and Puck just nodded his head helplessly and held on.
"Come on," said Kurt. "You're coming to my house tonight."
Puck hung back, reluctantly resisting. "I – I can't," he said apologetically. "It's Sarah. I can't leave her here by herself, not with my mom awake and… this way. Sarah – she'll get the worst of it."
Kurt glared down the hallway, as though he could shine a damning spotlight on Puck's mother with the force of his emotion. "This isn't over between your mother and me," he said. "I'm not going to let it alone, do you understand? She can't treat you that way."
"It's just the way things are," Puck said, but Kurt shook his head emphatically and brushed the hair from his face.
"You deserve so much more. You, and Sarah. I can't let it alone," he said again. "There's nothing wrong with you, and nothing wrong with us. I won't let her convince you otherwise."
"Kurt…" Puck sighed, putting his arms around Kurt's waist. "Remember when you said I couldn't change things for you all at once, at school? It's like that, here. There's too much history, too much shit for me to dig out in one day. It's going to take time."
"Yes," Kurt said, and kissed him once more. "But we're going to do it. We're going to make it happen. I'm going to take care of it."
"Yes," Puck said, and he took a deep breath, gazing at Kurt with a look of disbelief and awe. "I think you are."
It wasn't until later, as Kurt was driving away, that he realized he'd forgotten to ask Puck what it was that he'd needed to talk with him about. He figured that nothing could be as important as what they'd just shared – it could wait until dinner, the next day.