A/N: Sorry for the long break in updates. Now, I know how you guys said you felt about Blaine, but they're not friends. Kurt just needs a little push in the right direction, and Blaine will do exactly the right thing, even if he doesn't mean to. Trust me, you'll approve.
Kurt had two equally horrible options. He could chase after Puck and try to figure out what was going on in his head. After all, the countertenor had just revealed his feelings towards the jock out of the blue. He should probably try to apologize and make amends, or even just try to talk to him.
His other option was to go back into the restaurant, where Quinn and Mercedes were still loudly arguing. He knew Quinn had just flown off the handle talking to Santana and when he had tried to intervene, the negative energy got redirected towards him. Logically, he knew all of that. Emotionally, Quinn had brought up something that was kind of a raw nerve, especially considering they had just been at an emotional funeral, and he wasn't quite ready to forgive her.
Kurt could hear the sound of Puck's truck starting up (it had needed a new muffler for as long as Puck had owned it), forcing him to choose option two. Standing up and grimacing at the fact there was now mud all over his pants, Kurt headed back through the kitchen, ignoring the yelling in Chinese (which probably wasn't very complementary).
"Kurt-" Quinn started immediately as he walked in to door, but Kurt shook his head as he sat down and she stopped. "Where did Puck go?" she asked instead.
"He left," Kurt said flatly, knowing his tone would discourage anyone from asking why or where he went. Kurt wasn't sure he could answer either of those questions honestly.
"That's a shame. He missed his chance to open his fortune cookie," Tina said quietly, being one of the only mostly-neutral people that could break the heavy silence. Kurt knew she disapproved of what Quinn had said, but Tina didn't hate people, and she knew why Quinn had said it as well as Kurt did. As far as the Rachel, Quinn, and Finn drama, most people had gotten over it a long time ago. Only the fact that he had once been involved (and the fact that he was Finn's brother now) kept Kurt involved.
Tina's words seemed to remind everyone that they had their fortune cookies (all the food had been cleared away. Exactly how long had Kurt and Puck been outside?). The table was silent except for the sounds of cracking before they started reading. "Now these three remain, faith, hope, and love. The greatest of these is love," Rachel began the traditional reading of the fortune cookies, and it was obviously she was pleased with what she had gotten. After all, it fit the roller coaster relationship she and Finn had quite well.
Quinn pointedly turned her head away from Rachel's fortune, but she read next. "If you want the rainbow, you must put up with the rain." Finn, Kurt supposed, being the rain in her mind. What was the rainbow? Maybe Finn was really the rainbow? Maybe Beth and Puck were the rain? Too many options for his taste, but he wasn't going to think about it anymore. It was her fortune.
"A woman who seeks to be equal with men lacks ambition." Tina giggled at Artie's fortune. First of all, it was clear it was meant for a woman. Secondly, after what had happened last year between the two of them with Madonna week, it made sense that would be an old memory for them.
Mike frowned and read next. "A conclusion is simply the place where you got tired of thinking." Both Sam and Finn grimaced. As the two people at the table who had the most trouble with school, they would definitely identify with that fortune. Mike, as well as a few others, just chuckled.
"Truth is an unpopular subject. Because it is unquestionably correct," Sam read to no reaction.
"Okay, who rigged this?" Finn asked. "'Whenever possible, keep it simple'? Really? That's just mean, guys!" Everyone tried not to laugh.
"Nobody tampered with your fortune, Finn. It's simply... it's an unfortunate coincidence." Now giggles were breaking through. Rachel really needed to learn to think through her words before she said them.
"You're not simple, sweetie," Kurt said automatically. The nickname didn't seem to bother Finn anymore, though it garnered an annoyed look from an embarrassed Rachel. "You just see things in a different way than everyone else does."
"Well, I don't know about frankenteen's, but I certainly like my fortune! 'Your artistic talents win the approval and applause of others.' They damn well better, and soon too!" Mercedes read her (hopefully accurate) fortune with enthusiasm. It definitely fit, considering how talented she was, even if St. James (the asshole) had made her feel less so.
"Mine's dumb," Tina said quietly. " A quiet evening with friends is the best tonic for a long day." Tina might have thought it was dumb, but Kurt definitely knew the truth in those words. He seemed to have an awful lot of long days.
"So's mine. 'A cynic is only a frustrated optimist.' Obviously not true." Lauren's was probably meant to be funny, but her attitude ruined the joke.
"What's yours, Sanny?" Brittany asked, staring at her own in confusion.
"To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world," Santana read, carefully not looking at Brittany. "So dumb," she covered, but Kurt could see that she pocketed it. "What's yours, Britt-Britt?"
"I don't get it," Brittany admitted before reading. "Help, I'm being held hostage in a Chinese cookie factory." Everyone cracked up laughing, confusing Brittany even more, so Santana, fighting off laughter, leaned forward to explain it in the blonde cheerleader's ear. How she was going to explain it, Kurt had no idea.
"Kurt, yours is last," Quinn said, and Mercedes threw her a protective glare automatically. Quinn would be rebuilding that bridge for a long time, because Mercedes didn't take anything lightly.
"Every sense is heightened and every emotion is magnified," Kurt read, as confused as Brittany was by alarm systems. Kurt turned the paper over, only finding 'cat' in Chinese and a string of lucky numbers.
"Am I the only one who doesn't get it?" Finn asked, and everyone shook their heads, except for Rachel, who nodded, drawing everyone's attention to her.
"You guys don't know that quote, Kurt?" Rachel asked, clearly shocked, but Kurt had no idea what she was talking about. Rachel began to recite whatever it had come from, "We all want to fall in love. Why? Because that experience makes us feel completely alive, where every sense is heightened, and every emotion is magnified. Our everyday reality is shattered, and we are flying into the heavens. It may only last a moment, an hour, or an afternoon, but that doesn't diminish its value, because we are left with memories that we treasure for the rest of our lives." Rachel finished just when Kurt was about to shut her up. "The quote's from The Mirror Has Two Faces." All the added information did was earn her more blanks looks. "Starring the one-and-only Barbra Streisand? You've never heard of it?" Everyone shook their heads again, and Rachel murmured something under her breath that sounded like 'uncultured heathens.'
"Should one of us read Puck's?" Quinn asked, but Finn shook his head.
"Fortunes are, like, sacred, only the person who got it should read it. Otherwise it's super bad luck. Give it to me, I'll get it to him tomorrow." Finn reached for it, but Kurt snatched it first. It gave him a reason to talk to Puck, at the very least.
"I'll take it to him, I have to talk to him about something. Besides, you don't want it to get crushed or lost in that mess you call your backpack.. or your room.. or anywhere, really." Kurt slipped the cookie in his pocket, not really caring if it got cracked.
Everyone left in groups after they had split the bill. Finn had complained about Puck not paying his share, but a death glare from Santana shut him up. Kurt drove Mercedes and Quinn to Mercedes' house, where they would spend the night gorging on ice cream and saying horrible things about Finn to make Quinn feel better.
Kurt had convinced himself to ask Quinn where Puck lived last night in the hope of seeing him Sunday, but couldn't quite make himself go over there yet. Now, it was about one in the afternoon on Sunday, and Kurt was staring at Puck's address, trying to convince himself to go over there. He was about to grab his keys when his phone buzzed.
"Hello?" Kurt asked, not bothering to check the Caller ID because he'd answered too fast. He wasn't sure if he was hoping it was Puck or dreading it being Puck.
Evidently, his feelings didn't matter, because it wasn't Puck. "Kurt! Hi. I, um, didn't think you would answer." It was Blaine.
"Blaine. You called," was a moronically obvious thing to say, but Kurt was reeling. Yes, Blaine had left him that message before, but it had never occurred to him that Blaine might call again and he ran the risk of actually answering.
"Yeah, I just, uh, wanted to apologize for that message I left. I was feeling.. pretty lonely, to be honest, and I guess I just really missed you." Blaine was nothing if not straightforward, and Kurt had rather missed that.
"I.. I don't want to tell you I miss you too, but I do. I mean, my life's already complicated enough without you. No offense." Not that Kurt would feel bad about offending him, but Blaine wasn't exactly the main source of stress in his life right now.
"What's going on?" Blaine asked immediately, then backtracked. "I mean, not that you have to tell me, because you obviously don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, but if there was some way I could help, I..." Blaine trailed off.
"This really isn't something you could help me with, or something you would want to help me with." Kurt would feel bad about telling his ex-boyfriend about his boy problems. Blaine would certainly never do that to him.
"I would help you with anything. I mean, I certainly owe you for... y'know. What happened.. that night. Erm, I'm really sorry about that. Again." This was not a topic Kurt wanted to discuss. Ever.
"Blaine, I'm pretty sure you don't want to hear about my boy problems, no matter how unacceptable what you did that night was." Kurt didn't say he forgave Blaine, because he didn't. Not yet.
"Of course I do. Even in this awkward post-break-up-whatever-we-are stage, I want you to be happy, Kurt." Kurt closed his eyes, breathing hard and debating. Blaine meant what he said, he was such a genuinely good person. At the same time, it would hurt him to hear about Kurt moving on (because that's what he was doing... or what he was trying to do), and what could he really say?
"I like Noah, um, Puck. You know Puck. I call him Noah now, because we're.. friends. I guess. I really like him, and I want to be a little more than friends, but he's painfully straight. Except sometimes he acts like he's... not, or at least that's he would be comfortable if he wasn't. Then there's something Quinn said, about me not knowing things about him, that makes me wonder what she knows, and if there's something in his past to corroborate with my idea of his not-so-straightness.." Blaine was silent at the other end for a few moments.
"Are you out of your mind?" Blaine asked, but he sounded angry as much as he sounded incredulous. "You're considering dating Noah Puckerman? The idiot that threw you in dumpsters, tossed slushies on you, and messed with your head for years. The crass idiot with a mohawk that sleeps with everything that moves?"
"Oh, like you know him," Kurt said, angry that Blaine was getting angry. "He's been an amazing person lately, and he never messed with my head. I always knew what to expect from him."
"And how's that philosophy holding up now?" Blaine asked, and Kurt didn't have a good answer for that. "He's an idiot and a Neanderthal, and you deserve so much better!"
"Noah has done everything for me!" Kurt argued, angry with Blaine's superiority. "He's stuck up for me, he's taken care of me, he hasn't treated me like some idiotic child!" Like Blaine was. Right now. "Maybe Noah's done some bad things in the past, but he's changed! Puck was the one who built me back up from the ground after you shattered me to pieces!" Kurt was yelling now. Like Blaine had a right to judge Puck.
"Do you seriously think Mr. Wham, Bam, Thank You Ma'am actually wants to date you! Stop being so naive, Kurt! If he even wants you, the very male you, he wants to fuck your brains out and leave you in a cold bed! You need someone that actually gives a shit about you!" Blaine didn't swear often unless he was really angry (or really turned-on, but Kurt wasn't thinking about that).
"He takes care of the people he loves!" Kurt yelled into his phone, regardless of the concerned look he was now getting from Finn, who probably had heard way too much of this conversation, but Kurt was beyond caring. That's what he got for eavesdropping. "He took care of Quinn, he was ready to take care of the child they had because Quinn was too stupid to use a damn condom!"
"And you think he loves you? News flash, he wants your ass and nothing else! You need someone who actually wants you, not just your body!" Blaine yelled, and Kurt could hear concerned questions from behind him.
"Like you? Is that what you're getting at? You blew your chance with me, Blaine, so stop being such a jealous asshole and get over the fact that I may have actually found an amazing guy who cares about me!" Kurt wished he had a phone that could he could slam down or shut, but he settled for hanging up before Blaine could respond, sitting down heavily. When had he stood up?
"Dude, you okay?" Finn asked, and Kurt nodded.
"Don't call me dude," Kurt said automatically as he stood up again, grabbing his keys and a coat. Everything that he had said to Blaine about Puck was true, and he couldn't believe it had taken him this long to realize it.
"Where are you going?" Finn asked, probably just too curious for his own good.
"Noah's."
Puck was feeling pretty good about his plan for negotiating. He would tell Kurt that he liked him (which wasn't true. Not even a little bit), but he was unsure about the gay thing. Somehow, he would manage to intersperse wining and dining with 'trying things out' (at least that is how he would sell it to Kurt). Kurt would understand that he just wasn't sure of his gay limits, and would agree to an out-at-any-time relationship. Puck would reach his limit eventually, and no one would be hurt. Awesome.
Now all Puck had to do was apologize to Kurt for what he had said yesterday and get Kurt to do out on that initial date with him, and that all could be accomplished on Monday. Relaxed and alone in the house (his mom was working and Sarah was at the bowling alley with some friends), Puck decided to put on some Halo for a little bit and chill. There was a pile of homework on his desk due for Monday, and he wasn't doing any of it.
Puck was in the zone, killing anyone he saw and racking up more points than he ever had, so it was logical that he was annoyed when the doorbell rang. Puck unlocked the door, but not the chain, pulling the door open a small enough crack that a gun would have trouble aiming and a foot couldn't stick through it to observe who it was. These were preventive measure he'd learned from years of experience.
To his surprise, it wasn't any of his crazy and occasionally violent neighbors, but rather a nervous-looking Kurt, twirling his car keys in his hand, not even noticing the crack that Puck had opened the door. Chuckling at the irony of Kurt and his fancy car being in Puck's shitty neighborhood, Puck closed the door and unlocked the chain, before opening it again.
"Hi," Kurt said quietly once he realized the door had been opened.
"Hello," Puck replied, stepping back and opening the door wide as an silent invitation to come in. Kurt took the invitation and walked into Puck's tiny house, but he still looked unsure of what to do with himself. "Sit," Puck offered, but it came out sounding more like a command and Kurt listened, sitting on his ratty couch, wrinkling his nose slightly at the smell Puck was used to.
"I kind of needed to talk to you," Kurt said, still unusually quiet. "Oh, I brought you your fortune cookie." Kurt drew a surprisingly un-mangled fortune cookie, still in a Lomaine House wrapper, out of his pocket.
Puck snorted, but said, "Thanks," and took the cookie. Only Kurt would think of something like that.
"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. I shouldn't have sprung the fact that I kind of like you on you. I mean, you're straight, right?" Kurt looked up at Puck from under his lashes, and Puck had to wonder exactly how shy Kurt was really feeling, or if part of this was an act to get Puck to talk.
"Define straight," but Puck didn't give him the chance. "I think Rachel's all right, I think Quinn's smokin', I think you're smokin', I think Finn needs to shower a bit more often, and I see way too many nuts in the locker rooms for my taste. What does that make me?"
"Confusing," Kurt answered right away, and Puck chuckled.
"You're tellin' me." Puck took a seat on the couch next to Kurt, not too close, but not too far away either.
"So, here's a considerably less confusing, yes-or-no question. Do you.. like me?" It was very clear what Kurt was asking, but that didn't mean Puck was going to give him a straight answer.
"Of course, you're my best buds little bro," Puck said with a wink, tempted to noogie Kurt for full effect, but knowing he probably wouldn't come out of the conversation with all his appendages if he did.
"Noah." That was Kurt's no-nonsense voice, and Puck sighed.
"Yeah, I guess." Puck felt a little bad for manipulating Kurt, but this was the only way everyone could be happy without anyone getting hurt. "I mean, if you were a girl, it would be a definite 'yes', but..." Puck let the sentence end there.
"But I'm not," Kurt finished. "And I never will be. Is that a deal breaker?"
"I don't know, Kurt," Puck said, which wasn't entirely false. He wasn't entirely sure if he had the balls to go through all the other steps that led up to his goal, but he sure as hell was gay enough to fuck Kurt.
"Could you... try?" Kurt sounded so hopeful that Puck almost felt bad for his plan, but he knew if he played his cards right, they could all escape this happy and unharmed.
"Yeah, yeah, I guess." Puck pretended to drum his fingers nervously against the couch. "So, what exactly does 'trying' entail?" See, Puck could use grown-up words too.
"Maybe a date?" Kurt asked. "We could go somewhere private or far away, or even just at one of our houses. I mean, if you don't want people to know, and I'm guessing you don't."
"Not right now, no." That, at least, was the truth. He didn't want people to know that he was manipulating Kurt into bed, because that made him sound like just another Cheerio, but he wasn't. Puck was just looking out of everyone's best interests.
"So, is that a no to the date or a no to the people knowing?" Kurt asked, and Puck realized how equivocal his statement had sounded.
"Yes to the date, no to the people knowing," Puck clarified, and Kurt beamed.
"Great. So, are you going to open your fortune?" A giant weight had been lifted in the room. Kurt was no longer nervous about Puck rejecting him or beating him up or something, and Puck was no longer nervous that his plan wouldn't work. Now they were just Puck and Kurt, two people who had nebulous date plans and were good friends.
"Oh, yeah." Puck opened the wrapper with a pop, breaking the cookie and eating the pieces before reading his fortune out loud to Kurt. "It can be in a crowd, but in an oblivious crowd." Kurt's eyebrows creased. "What the hell? That sounds like a riddle clue."
"I don't know. Mine was like that too. I think it means it was a part of a longer quote, mine was, but Rachel knew it off the top of her head because it was a Streisand movie." Puck made a mental note to look that up later in case Kurt asked about it.
"Of course she did," Puck said with a snort. "Wanna play some Halo?" It was more the type of offer he would make to his best friend and less the type of offer he would make to some Cheerio chick, so that proved that his kinda-sorta-maybe boyfriend was more the former.
"Sure," Kurt said, considerably less hesitantly than he had been when Puck offered for the very first time.
They spent the next two hours playing Halo. Puck managed to convince Kurt to have some root beer (even though he complained it would ruin his complexion) and some potato chips (even though he complained it would ruin his thighs). Puck's discovery of the day was compliments to whatever body part Kurt had claimed he would ruin made Kurt blush and eat the offending object. Kurt beat Puck every time, but Puck remembered to take it like a man, and Kurt only laughed after a while at his frustrated expressions. Puck knew that Kurt let him win the last game.
It was around four thirty when Kurt grabbed his keys and put on his coat to leave. Puck's mother was set to be home any minute for Sunday dinner, and she usually expected for Puck to have 'guests' gone by then. Puck had offered to let Kurt stay, but Kurt had to cook dinner for his own family. Kurt was just unlocking the chain when Puck remembered something.
"Wait," Puck said, and Kurt stopped what he was doing immediately, turning to face Puck, probably thinking the same thing the baritone was. Puck crossed the room, trying to remember that he was supposed to be gay-shy, and kissed Kurt, wrapping his hands around the countertenor's waist.
Yeah, there was no way he was gay-shy. Kurt had the softest friggin' lips and gasped like he was surprised when Puck kissed him. Puck licked into his mouth, ignoring the boundaries he'd set for himself, as Kurt wrapped his arms around his neck, and kissed back eagerly. Puck dragged himself away (with an impressive suction sound, he might add) before he either slammed Kurt up against the door or dragged the countertenor to his bedroom to have his wicked way with him.
Puck realized he was panting once he opened his eyes, staring into Kurt's blue-green-gray eyes. Kurt was smiling a little bit as he detached himself from Puck. "I'll see you on Monday, Noah," was all Kurt said before he left. Puck had obviously done something right.
"This doesn't make any sense," Santana said, staring at the same board Kurt was. Honestly, it probably made a lot more sense, but it was still kind of a shock.
"Guys, it was a tough decision," here comes St. Asshole, to ruin Kurt's good mood, "but it's for the good of the club." Now it made even less sense. St. James didn't know what was going on either?
"Although this is deeply personal, try not to take it personally." Okay, Rachel was just a little bit too full of herself, or had St. James informed her of whatever delusion he was under?
"Um, you guys might want to read what the list says," Kurt interrupted, enjoying bursting Rachel's bubble.
"What? Why?" Okay, even Rachel wasn't that full of herself. Obviously St. James had told her something that was wrong.
Instead of the name of the featured soloist that everyone had been hoping for, the list said 'URGENT MEETING TODAY. CHOIR ROOM 3:30.' Nothing else.
"What? How is this possible? Jesse, you said I was going to be the featured soloist!" The last part of Rachel's questions was supposed to be quieter, but Rachel wasn't particularly good at whispering.
"I don't understand," St. James whispered, and he sounded betrayed. Good.
"To the choir room, now!" Rachel ordered. Only St. James followed her, the rest of the people who had auditioned began talking. Kurt headed to talk to his... Noah. They hadn't really decided what they were, but that kiss (the one that had made his knees go weak and made him see fireworks and made... certain parts of his body react more than others) was definitely an indication towards the word 'boyfriends', right?
Kurt never got the chance to see Noah, because Finn walked around the corner, a pink flower with a white center in his hand (a Cherokee Brave Flowering Dogwood would be Kurt's best guess), and a dejected look on his face. It was Kurt's brotherly duty to go over and find out what was wrong.
Before Kurt would even ask, Finn answered his question. "He kissed her before I could. I broke up with a girl I loved for her, and he got her first." Kurt didn't need to ask for any clarification, but reached up to give Finn a hug. Finn squeezed him a little too hard, burying his face in Kurt's neck, but Kurt didn't complain. He was too stuck on the fact that Rachel hadn't slapped St. James and ran away, but no one would expect that he had kissed Puck last night either. Strange things happen.
"It's gonna be okay." Kurt comforted Finn until Finn let him go, clearing his throat and trying to pretend he hadn't had a moment of weakness. Kurt rolled his eyes. "Come on, Cowboy, we have a meeting in the choir room."
Everyone waited in silence for Mr. Schue to arrive. "Oh, Mr. Schue, thank God you're here to put these trolls out of their misery," Santana said, and Kurt rolled his eyes. She was so convinced she would win she was turning into a sassy Rachel. Kurt knew he wasn't going to win (there was too much enmity between him and St. James), but he was secretly hoping Rachel didn't either. Even if it would be good for the club. "Can you just announce my win so that I can get on with teasing the losers?" By losers, she meant Rachel.
"I heard your performance, Santana. This is mine, and you know it." Rachel could be so snobby sometimes. It was probably true, but it was rude nonetheless.
"See, Jesse? This is the kind of infighting and "me first attitudes that I wanted to avoid." Kurt rolled his eyes. Like this didn't happen anyway when Mr. Schue wasn't paying attention. All he was disappointed about was that his maybe-boyfriend hadn't taken the empty seat next to him, and it was now being used as Mike's footrest. Sure, Lauren had sat next to him, but she wouldn't think anything of it, and Finn was near him too. So why was Puck in the back row with Mercedes?
Why was he already turning into a possessive girlfriend?
"What you call infighting, I call motivation," St. James replied, and Kurt almost rolled his eyes again. St. James probably believed what he was saying, too, but that didn't mean it wasn't ridiculous. "And this is just the beginning. Once we get to Nationals, I'll have them willing to kill each other for that solo." Newsflash! They already were.
"No," Mr. Schue said firmly. Did he really not realize how much fighting and bloodlust there already was under the surface, some over solos, others just because they were teenagers that were way too close to be anything but one big incestuous family. "I've changed my mind." Oh, thank Prada. "We're going back to what got us here, original songs sung by the entire club." Or by Rachel, solo, like last competition. "We're a team, and we're best when we work as one."
"You're going to lose," St. James said immediately.
"Whatever we do, we're going to do it together," Mr. Schue said firmly.
"Actually, Santana, you sounded pretty good," Kurt said as apology for Rachel's comment.
"Thanks. You guys were all pretty dope too." Kurt smiled at the compliment. "Even Rachel," Santana said begrudgingly.
"I wish I could sound like you do, Santana. I mean, how do you get that raspiness?" Rachel probably didn't want to know, but at least she was being nice now.
"So nice. I smoke cigars." She probably didn't, but Santana had a habit of making her life sound more interesting and dangerous than it actually was.
"All right, guys, time to get to work. Now, I want two hit songs by the time the wheels touch down at JFK." Everyone got up for their rhyming dictionaries, but Mr. Schue wasn't done. "Since there was so much tension in the air this week, it seems time to do a little clearing. That's right, a free-for-all week, singing anything, any genre, to or for someone, just because you need to get a message across. Keep it clean though, guys, and this is a positive energy week. For now, it's writing time! Come on."
Kurt was one of the first ones to hop down for a writing dictionary, eager to work on his first original songs, but he noticed Finn talking to Quinn. This couldn't end well, and surely enough, Finn looked confused and concerned as Quinn picked up her rhyming dictionary. He would make Finn some warm milk later.
"Hey," Puck said as he picked up a dictionary for himself, their hands brushing and sending a rush of electricity up his arm (that certainly hadn't happened before!).
"Hi," Kurt replied, taking a seat in the front row this time and cheering as Puck took the seat next to him.
"So, you, me, Friday night, somewhere in Marion? I was thinking the Warehouse, Bob Evans, or Infinity." Kurt had never heard of any of those places, but he hadn't been on many hiding-from-his-friends out-of-town dates.
"You pick." Puck raised an eyebrow as he pretended to search for something in his dictionary without looking down.
"Which is gi..Kurt for you've never heard of any of those places, right?" Kurt couldn't help but notice Puck almost said 'girl speak', but he let it slide. After all, this was all a test, and it was quite possible there would be no second date, so there was really no use in trying to change Puck's habits. That screamed 'clingy girlfriend you want to break up with'.
"Astute. Yes."
"This first one's Italian, the second and third one's are kind of everything. There's something you would eat at every single one of them, Bob Evans is just a little farther away, maybe ten minutes. The whole town's an hour away anyway, so it doesn't make much of a difference." Kurt considered it, but he had still never heard of these places.
"You can still choose, considering you can make the most informed choice." Puck raised an eyebrow again, but didn't question this time.
"Infinity Restaurant it is. I'll pick you up at 6:30?" When Kurt nodded, Puck gave him the Puckasauras 'charm-the-pants-off-anything' smirk, and he felt himself going a little weak at the knees again. Was one kiss all it took for him to fall apart? "Great. What's a good rhyme for 'fuckin' amazing eyes'?" Puck asked, and Kurt laughed.
Kurt was in the kitchen heating up warm milk for he and Finn when his father stomped in the door, muttering something about 'bigots' that Kurt would pretend he didn't hear. "You're home late," Kurt commented, and the muttering stopped.
"Got held up at the garage. Did you guys already eat?" Kurt nodded without turning around.
"Your food is in the oven, make sure you have some asparagus with it." Kurt didn't have to look to know what his dad was making a face. Ignoring it, Kurt started humming Beautiful Eyes again, he couldn't help it. The song may be ridiculous (and by a band called the Naked Brothers Band), something that Puck's little sister liked, but the way Puck had rewrote parts of it had been so cute Kurt couldn't help but sing it again in his head and smile.
"What are you so happy about?" Burt asked gruffly. It wasn't that his dad didn't want him to be happy, of course, he was just suspicious of anything that made him this happy, because it was usually a guy.
"I have a date with Noah on Friday," Kurt said honestly, knowing it would come up eventually. His dad sighed, and Kurt could hear him reach into the refrigerator for a beer.
"That Puckerman kid?" Burt asked, as though he was hoping the answer was 'no' even though he knew it was Puck.
"Yes, Noah Puckerman." Burt sighed again.
"Kid, we need to have a talk." Kurt groaned internally but made sure to remain happy outside.
"Dad, we already had that talk, can we please never repeat it?" The talk had been embarrassing enough when there was no one in particular (okay, so everyone involved know Blaine was the true topic, but it hadn't been outright stated), with Puck, Kurt feared what his dad could think to say.
"This isn't a sex talk, this is a 'you're going on a date with a bad boy and I have to try and talk you out of it even though I know I can't' talk." Kurt rolled his eyes as he decided to leave the warm milk in the microwave. Let it stay warm while he and his dad had this talk.
"Noah's not a 'bad boy', dad, not anymore." Burt shook his head.
"Once a bad boy, always a bad boy. Buddy, he's been in jail."
"It was just juvie," Kurt corrected him, and Burt sighed for the third time.
"Kiddo, do you really think this is a good idea? I won't say you can't, because I know that my disapproval would only make you want to go more, plus the fact I've never micro-managed your life before and I don't plan to start now, but this is the kid that threw you in dumpsters, that has a daughter with another friend of yours." When Burt said it that way, Puck sounded horrible and Kurt sounded irresponsible for dating him, but it wasn't like that, right?
"Dad, Quinn is fully supportive of this, and Noah has become a good guy. One date won't hurt anyone." Kurt didn't know why he was still having this conversation, considering his dad had just finished saying he wouldn't say 'no', but somehow having his father's approval, even if it was begrudging, was important.
"I hope not," Burt said gruffly. "What happened to this kid's straight and not even curious? Where did that go?"
"Where did the one chance you promised him that he hasn't messed up yet go?" Kurt asked, avoiding the question.
"It didn't extend to him dating you, because you made it very clear he would never want to date you. You're avoiding my question." Damn, his dad knew him too well.
"Honestly, I don't know where Noah's heterosexuality went, but I certainly don't miss it, and if you really want to know, I'll ask him." Kurt was bluffing, and he was going to get called on it.
"You do that. Hell, maybe I'll do that when he comes to pick you up on Friday." Kurt huffed and rolled his eyes. Busted.
"Dad, behave." Kurt ended the conversation, removing the milk from the microwave and heading for Finn's room.
"Buddy?" his dad's voice called after him and Kurt paused. "You know I'm only doin' this 'cause I love you, right, kid?" Kurt smiled softly.
"Yeah, dad, I know. I love you too." Kurt headed for Finn's room for a long night of consoling and senselessly violent action movies.
A/N: There, some Puckurt action, a lot of Klaine yelling, some Furt bonding, and some canon scenes. The perfect chapter concoction. So, the question is, how well do you think Puck's plan is going to go? How easily will twitterpated Kurt be fooled? How crazy will the song choices for this week I made up go?
Songs mentioned: 'Beautiful Eyes' by the Naked Brothers Band (which isn't a half bad song).
Reviews are Love.