Twenty-seven: Werewolf
A/N: Based loosely off a concept from a Sherlock fic I read on AO3.
Puck didn't know why he needed a bodyguard. Seriously, Finn needed one more than he did and he was only of lower nobility (granted, he usually needed saving from himself and his clumsy tendencies). Puck was crowned prince of a kingdom left to him by his deadbeat father and he still had less 'accidents' than Finn (he was working on the prejudice that ran rampant in the higher class), although being a widow trying to care for her only son had discredited Mrs. Hudson, so they probably couldn't afford a wolf for Finn. He'd have to work on that too...
However, all that and his mother still insisted on bringing one in. And the minute he saw his proposed guard, he laughed. The mutt was so small that Puck, a human, could probably take him no problem. He said as much to his mother, who 'tsk'ed and shook her head.
"Noah, I thought you'd learned from your mistakes. Remember the last time you underestimated someone?" Ruth asked, disappointment clear in her voice. "Kurt came highly recommended as a guard. He's well trained."
"Is he toilet trained as well?" Puck enquired sarcastically, tossing the thick black collar away and dropping onto one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs in the stables for the workers. The wolf kneeling before him showed no reaction to the taunt but Sue, Kurt's handler, narrowed her eyes.
"Look here Puckerman, this is the best fighter and protector I have. You're lucky I even considered putting him in charge of your sorry ass," Sue said, blunt as forceful as always. "If you don't take him, someone else will, and if they're going after you, they won't hesitate to utilize him."
Puck raised an unamused eyebrow. He and Sue engaged in a short staring contest until, not looking away from her son, Sue commanded Ruth leave the room. Desperate for Puck to see reason, she acquiesced to the blonde, motioning for the guards to close the massive double doors behind her.
"Listen closely Puckerman, because I'll only say this once; your mohawk disgusts me. It's right up there with Will Schuester's product-caked curls, only yours doesn't have the small trolls I hesitate to kill when I take a blow torch to his head. Keeping that in mind, I won't waver in the act of shaving your monstrosity off. And if you don't take sweet Porcelain here," Sue ran an affectionate hand over Kurt's soft hair, "that nightmare will become your reality. Do you have an understanding?"
Puck scoffed, levering himself off his chair and into Sue's face. "Look lady, I'm bigger than my hair. Your threat? Totally doesn't scare me. You'll have to try harder than that."
Sue kept her blank stare on Puck just long enough for him to get nervous before she said, "he gives good blow jobs."
"Deal," Puck answered immediately. Sue motioned for Kurt to fetch the collar and handed it over to Puck. The soft leather fit well and the thick silver ring was attached to a matching leash. Sue held out her hand and Puck shook it before handing over the bag of gold Ruth had set aside for their purchase. As she was walking away, Sue paused and looked back, a smirk lingering on her lips.
"By the way mohawk, he's never been near a phallus other than his own in his life. I would never allow such a blatant distraction, but have fun teaching him."
Kurt blushed a bright red while Puck gaped, watching Sue walk away, smugly tossing the bag of coins into the air.