Author's note: I actually dreamt about Puck and Kurt tonight. It was so real, that I was convinced that I had seen some sort of spoiler for season 2. Then I dreamt of running laps in shorts and I had forgotten to shave my legs so I looked like some kind of woodland creature in clothing… Does anyone know how to interpret dreams?

This gay flu he had been cursed with seemed to be more persistent than he first had thought. It might actually be life threatening. Not only did he think that Queen Fairy was hot, he was cute too. Puck could honestly not remember the last time he had thought of someone as cute. That word just did not fit into his vocabulary. The worst part was that he started to notice things. Small, insignificant things that did not mean shit, but he still thought about them all the time, you know? Like how bright his eyes were or how pretty he was after Puck had gotten him all fired up and dishevelled, his otherwise icy demeanour shattered. He leaned forwards towards his bathroom mirror to examine the damage around his eye. It had been one wicked fight and he would look really badass tomorrow. It had been worth it, though, for Kurt's sake.

Fuck. He must be gay.

Karofsky stood by the dumpster the following morning, accompanied by several from his lame ass hockey team. Puck sneered when he realized that Dave looked crappier than him. He had gotten some real good punches yesterday.

"Looking good, Karofsky", he called out as a greeting, just barely suppressing his laughter when Dave threw himself forward, towards him, only to be yanked back by his comrades. Starting the day off with yet another fight was never a good idea. Puck shoved his hands down the pockets of his jeans, ignoring them as they kept bickering like a bunch of old married hags. He had a date. A not so discreet smile crept up on him when a familiar SUV turned into the parking lot. The door flung open and Kurt slid out gracefully (my my, that ass looked fine today), throwing his messenger bag over his shoulder and shut the door. The idiots pushed each other around, throwing meaning glances towards their favourite torture victim. The car made a beep, Kurt dropped the key into his bag and turned around… just to come to an immediate halt. Puck noticed how his eyes darted all across the scene, trying to evaluate if there was anyway around what he knew was coming. He had seen this before. A thousand times before and Kurt's actions were always the same. He would take a deep breath, pull his shoulders back and hold his head up high, looking like some princess or whatever when he stepped towards his fate. Though, the outcome would be different this time. One well-placed elbow in Karofsky's gut and he had them all double taking. It could easily have been an accident, but Puckzilla does not do accidents. He feigned an excuse and stepped to the side to meet up with Kurt. If Karofsky currently was fighting through a throng of meatheads just to get back at him, occasionally shouting "I'll kill ya!", well, Puck simply did not notice.

"Sup, Hummel?"

Kurt actually jumped at the sight of him, a becoming blush colouring his cheeks as he lit up like the fucking sun. Discreet, dude. In a smooth, well-rehearsed movement, he threw back his bangs, straightened his back and smiled softly.

"Good morning, Noah", he breathed gently and Puck could not possibly fight back his own smile, because that was the voice Kurt used to use whenever he spoke to Finn. Not that he had paid attention to him before or anything. That was the time when he was healthy and most definitely did not pay attention to Queen Hummel of Fairy Town. It was still pretty awesome to hear him use his first name, though.

"Won't you get painfully executed for talking to me?" Kurt wondered, eyebrows raised as he gazed over Puck's shoulder, where Karofsky still was struggling with his companions. It was pretty hilarious, but Kurt looked slightly worried.

"Nah", shrugged Puck and started walking, expecting the slighter boy to follow him. He did, glancing back to the dumpsters when a Puck, get your prissy ass back here! reached his ears. He hurriedly huddled closer to the jock beside him.

Kurt's hand swayed back and forth next to his side. Puck kind of glanced at it from times to times and he thought that Kurt might notice, but they did not mention it. What was it Brittany had said about his hands? Oh right, they were like baby hands. Now, Puck did not wander around and touched baby hands all the time, but he was pretty sure that it meant that they were like really, really, really soft. Puck had not felt Kurt's hand since that night, you know, when he got infected with the gays. He kind of wanted to feel it again, but holding hands with the resident fag was not badass. Maybe he could just, like… graze right pass it. No one would notice. Just one smooth, carefree motion. He discreetly stretched out his fingertips, reached out for that burning, pale skin… Puck nearly jumped out of his skin when the most erotic sound EVER came out of Kurt. It was sort of like a gasp, but with a slight hint of a moan or a sigh or whatever and it was epic. A sideway glance at him and he noticed how his entire spine had stiffened and his eyes were closed in one hesitant breath and he sort of looked like when he had been close to coming that night. Fuck. His pants were getting really fucking uncomfortable.

Slowly returning to reality, realizing just what had happened, Kurt opened his eyes. He looked at him for less than a second, cheeks in an impressive flaming red before snatching back his hand so it clung on tightly to his messenger bag. Puck just barely suppressed a chuckle. Kurt was not cute, no, he was freaking adorable.

"So…"

"Yes?"

It was weird, trying to make conversation with the gay kid. Puck was more of a physical being. Words really were not his thing, especially not when he was supposed to talk to Kurt. This gay thing was way trickier than girls.

"Do you want to, I dunno, hang out after school or something?"

"Yes."

There was not the slightest hesitation in his voice and his eyes kind of sparkled.

"Cool."

Kurt's face suddenly became sullen and something unpleasant churned within Puck.

"We can't be at my place. Dad got suspicious yesterday. He's left the shotgun in the hall, so he can eliminate any intruders before they reach the porch."

Yeah, that really was a good reason to be sullen. Puck had no wish to get his head blasted off by a shotgun and he was pretty sure that Burt Hummel would not spare him if he ever came around the Hummel residence again.

"Uhm, we can go to my place, I guess", he replied helpfully, trying hard not to show how much his father totally freaked him out. Though, everything about Hummel Senior escaped him when Kurt smiled again. Freaking adorable.

"Great. I'll see you after school", Kurt cheerily chimed and his happy voice was like music. He strutted away towards Math class as if there were pink clouds beneath his feet and his hips swayed like Shakira and his ass looked really fucking unbelievably hot in those tight pants and wow. Just wow.

He was so deep into the fagshit now, he was not sure there was any going back.

Author's note: That was the end of chapter 7 and I know it's short, but it's at least something. I'm considering wrapping this up soon and continue with something lighter and humorous, like my new story "How to successfully melt an Ice Queen". If you want something more angsty, check out my one-shot "I give you fever, huh?". It's more delicious Puckurt!

Now, don't you forget to review! Hugs and kisses to all of you sweethearts who make my day with your kind reviews.

/Becka