Chapter 4

"Noah?" Ruth Puckerman asked when someone answered her son's phone and she was pretty sure it wasn't the boy himself. The pitch was too high.

"Uh, no, Mrs. Puckerman. This is Kurt. Noah's in the bathroom at the moment."

"Kurt?" Ruth asked. She knew that name, but she wasn't quite sure who he was. "Kurt, who?"

"Kurt Hummel. I'm Finn's step-brother," the Kurt kid explained. "We live in the same house. Noah really never mentioned me?"

"Oh," Ruth exclaimed, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand for feeling so stupid. This was the kid that had been hanging out at her house for the past few months. "Of course. Kurt! Is Noah behaving himself? I know how much trouble he and Finn can get up to when they put their minds to it."

"Oh, Noah's been a dream!" Kurt gushed, and Ruth wondered if they were talking about the same boy. "He's been such a help this past week. Thanks for letting him stay."

"I didn't really have much say in the matter," Ruth replied, shaking her head at her son's stubbornness and the way he had just said, "I'm staying with Finn for a few weeks, Ma. Call if you need something," and then left, his bag over his shoulder. "I suppose I should be glad he still came to Temple with us yesterday, even if he did bring that silly school project with him."

"Molly is not silly!" Kurt exclaimed, sounding highly offended. But why? Wasn't it just an assignment to teach teenagers about the horrors of parenthood? After Noah's mishap, Ruth told the school board that they should teach the class to sixth graders, before they got into too much trouble, but the "Christians" of the school district had protested, and since they had the numbers, they won.

"I agree that it's a good learning tool," Ruth said carefully. "But I can't imagine my lay-about of a son is doing very well at it. Do you know who his project partner is?"

"I am," Kurt replied. "And while Noah sleeps like a rock, he's been a very attentive father."

Ruth snorted in laughter. "Yeah, right. Is he there yet?"

"Still indisposed," Kurt replied coolly, and Ruth decided she didn't like this Kurt fellow very much. "I'll tell him to call you back at his earliest convenience. Oh, wait. Snookums? It's your mom…"

In the background, Ruth heard her son say, "Thanks, baby-cakes," before he came on louder. "What's up, Ma? Need somethin'?"

"I just missed you, No-no," she replied, seriously confused. "Did you call that boy, 'baby-cakes'?"

"Uh-huh," Noah replied, grunting like he had flopped down on a chair or a couch or something.

"Why?"

"Cause it's a whatcha-callit – term of endearment. He's dear to me, Ma."

Ruth kept waiting to hear that laugh, or that sarcastic tone, which told her Noah was joking. It didn't come.

"Are you and Kurt dating?" she asked, not sure whether or not she wanted to know the answer. At least as a Jew, she was prepared for the prejudice that would come along with having a gay son. Oh, god. All those girls had been Noah trying to prove himself, hadn't they? And getting Quinn pregnant? His passive-aggressive way of asserting his manliness? Ruth knew she should have tried harder to convince her brother Isaac and his wife to take Noah during the summer, so he would have a better male influence than her damn ex-husband. But no, Isaac and Mindy (Mindy!) wanted to take their kids to Israel instead. So much for family loyalty.

"No, Ma," Noah replied with a put-upon sigh.

"Oh. Oka-"

"We're engaged. If it were legal, we'd be married already."

"What?" Ruth cried, almost dropping her phone in surprise. "What are you talking about, Noah Caleb Puckerman?"

"Ooh, three names!" he laughed, and Ruth pushed down the urge to drive over to the Hudson's new house so she could throttle her son to death. "Now you care? Thanks, Ma," Noah said and Ruth could hear the smile in his voice, telling her he wasn't serious.

"You never tell me anything, and you know it," she replied with a chuckle. It was Noah's most common complaint – that she didn't care about him – but they both knew how wrong that statement was. Would she still wash her son's hair once a week if she didn't love him? "Now, I don't care for your attitude, or your fiancé, to tell the truth, but you're bringing him for Saturday brunch. No excuses, you got me?"

"Will you let Kurt make the latkes?" the boy asked, like he was smiling, too.

"Why? Don't you like mine? Noah?"

After a long, silent pause, Noah replied, "Kurt says that I should refuse to answer, if I value my life, so I'm gonna go with that, Ma. No comment, or whatever."

Ruth laughed again. "I don't know what to do with you, baby boy. You don't like my house, you don't like my cooking, you run off to live with your fiancé, you don't even tell me you're gay…"

"Bi, Ma. Not gay," he insisted, which only made Ruth laugh again.

"Whatever you say, No-no. Whatever you say."

Glad to be starting a new day, Shannon Beiste arrived at her office next to the locker room, stowing her lunch in the mini fridge and hanging her jacket on its hook. Students would start arriving in half an hour, so she opened her lesson plan, reviewing the day's activities and her plans for the baseball team try-outs. Then she started to hear it – a sort of hurried panting. She thought it might be one of those freshmen with body-image issues, working out on the elliptical trainer, even though those machines weren't supposed to be used without supervision. Boys these days were almost as bad about body image as some of the girls had been when Shannon was in school.

"Who's here?" Beiste called out as she left her office. "Gavin, is that you? I told you to talk to Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell about this, boy!"

However, when Shannon got to the weight room, she didn't see Gavin Prescott. She saw Noah Puckerman, topless and struggling to button up his jeans and the Kurt kid from glee in a similar situation, briefs on but tight pants only covering one leg as he hopped around trying to get the other leg covered. Both boys were flushed, and Shannon could tell it wasn't just from embarrassment. This was the first time at McKinley that Beiste had walked in on something like this, but it had happened a couple of times at her previous schools. Hormones ran rampant and for some reason at least one couple got it into their heads that the locker room would be a good place for some privacy.

"Get dressed," she demanded, "and come see me at my desk. Both of you."

"Yes, ma'am," Puckerman replied, pulling his shirt on while trying to buckle his belt at the same time.

A few minutes later, Kurt and Puckerman approached her desk, sitting down when she pointed to the chairs opposite from her. "Alright, boys," she began, eyeing each of them in turn. Puckerman looked relaxed, like he couldn't give a rat what Shannon thought of him, while Kurt looked embarrassed, but not ashamed, his cheeks mottled brightly red. "There's a time and a place for everything. And my locker room is never the place, at any time, for that sort of behavior. Got me?"

Kurt nodded quickly, while Puck took a breath, leaned forward and said, "Not even if-"

Shannon interrupted the boy before he could share too much information, saying, "Not even if nothing. Never. Got it?"

"Whatever," Puck sighed, sitting back again, his arm around the back of Kurt's chair.

Shannon nodded and said, "Consider this a warning. If I catch you two at it again, that's grounds for a week's worth of detention. Alright?"

"Okay," Kurt answered for the both of them, subtly leaning toward Puckerman like he didn't even know he was doing it.

"Okay," Shannon echoed. "Now get outta here."

As the boys tripped over one another in their haste to escape and Kurt hissed, "I told you this was a bad idea! I can't believe we paid Brittany to babysit, just for this!" Shannon picked up her desk phone and dialed an extension.

When her friend picked up, Shannon said with a smile, "You owe me twenty bucks, Will. Twenty big ones."

Brittany S. Peirce loved babysitting, but none of her parents' friends or neighbors would hire her unless Santana came along. She knew it was because everyone thought she was too dumb to take care of a kid, but Brittany liked to believe it was because she was too nice and children needed someone to be mean to them so they would eat their vegetables and go to bed on time.

So, when Kurt called Brittany just before bed time and asked her to babysit the following morning before school, she jumped at the chance. But, she didn't actually jump, because then her sister would give her a funny look and tell their mom Brittany needed to go see Dr. Granger again. Brittany hated Dr. Granger. The lady asked her too many hard questions and told Brittany's mom to hold her back in school, even though George Washington said no child should be left behind.

Kurt's baby was easy to take care of, because it was mostly pretend. It wasn't as soft and squishy as a real baby, but it made fun noises and Brittany got to feed it pretend formula. After having done the same project in Sex Ed last year, Brittany knew how to hold the baby and how to sing to her and how to change her diaper. "I'd make a good mommy, wouldn't I, Molly?" she asked the doll, but the only answer Molly gave sounded like a hiccup. Brittany took it as a yes.

Brittany thought she would make a good mom, if her own mother would ever stop giving her those little pills every morning. Of course, Brittany took them without complaint, because she didn't want to end up as unpopular as Quinn. She didn't want to be a mom in high school and get laughed at. She wanted a partner to help her take care of the baby and do all the mean parts of raising a child. Santana was really good at doing the mean, but necessary, things.

"Where are you guys going?" Brittany asked as Kurt hurriedly pushed the doll into Brittany's arms. "Usually people hire babysitters at night."

"We'll explain in an hour," Puck replied, tugging Kurt by the hand toward the gym side of the school. Brittany didn't mind. She knew that look on Puck's face – the one that said he was going to get laid soon – and she thought good for them. Kurt especially. He'd been all wound up for so long, it was good that Puck was helping him unwind, since Kurt wouldn't let Brittany do it. Huh. That must make Puck little-g gay, like her and Santana. It was nice to feel a little less like a freak, even if Brittany was in glee club.

"The itsy-bitsy spider," Brittany sang to Molly, rocking her gently, "Went up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out! Out came the sun and everyone was glad… Wait. Is that how it goes?"

Molly wasn't very helpful at remembering the lyrics to the spider song, but it was probably because her brain was made out of plastic and wires.

Saturday mornings were Sarah Puckerman's favorite time of the week. Cartoons played all morning, her mom usually slept in, which put her in a better mood for the rest of the day, and if Noah was around, he would watch TV with her and let her snuggle in his arms. Noah hadn't been around for a week and a half, but Sarah's mom said that this Saturday was special because Noah was coming home and bringing his fiancé with him.

Sarah thought Noah having a fiancé was romantic, but if anyone asked, she would say it was gross. Come on. Noah was her brother (even if some days he felt more like a dad). She had to say everything he did was gross. It was like, the law or something.

The only other person Sarah remembered getting married was her cousin Ruben. He married a skinny blonde girl all Sarah's aunts called a shikse, and Sarah didn't think they meant it in a good way. The flowers in the temple made her nose itch and there was too much talking and then too much dancing, but the cake was really good and Noah picked her up on the dance floor and spun Sarah around until she was giggling so hard she thought all that cake might come back up.

The Saturday Noah's fiancé came over sucked. Sarah's mom made her help with the food, which meant she missed all of her shows, and then accidentally smashed Sarah's pinky in one of the kitchen drawers.

"Oh!" her mom cried. "I'm so sorry, baby! No, don't cry!"

Whenever she said that, Sarah got the irresistible urge to burst into tears. It was like backwards psychology, or whatever it was called. Oh well. The tears made Sarah's mom extra quick with some ice bundled in a dish towel and several kisses to Sarah's cheeks and hair.

"Shit!" she cried when the stove started smoking then, and Sarah giggled at her mother's swearing. Sometimes Sarah wasn't sure if Noah learned how to swear from their mom, or if their mom learned to swear from him, since she could remember him doing it first, and getting his mouth washed out with soap for it.

"Mama," Sarah laughed as she watched the woman try to salvage that batch of latkes, "I should wash your mouth out!"

"What?" she cried, with that annoyed tone in her voice. "Oh, sorry baby. I just want to make a good impression."

"What's her name?"

"Who's name, dear?" Sarah's mom asked, distracted by her recipe and opening the window above the sink to help the smoke out.

"Noah's fiancé," Sarah explained. "What's her name?"

Pressing new spoonfuls of latke mix into the pan of oil, Sarah's mom replied, "Oh. Kurt."

Sarah thought that was a funny name for a girl. "Wait," she said. "Isn't that Noah's baby-project partner? That boy with the pretty hair? His name is Kurt."

"Yeah. Same person," the woman replied, shrieking a little when some oil jumped out of the pan onto her hand, pushing the burned skin into her mouth for a moment before going back cootie food. "Maybe I should have let the boys make these. I suck at cooking."

"Mama!" Sarah gasped with a giggle. "You should wash your mouth out again!"

"Shut it," her mom replied with a grin, pointing her spatula at Sarah in a warning before turning back to her task.

When Sarah heard the front door open, she ran toward the front of the house, crying, "Noah!" and launching herself at her big brother when she saw him waiting for her. She was unprepared, though, for the tickling.

"No!" she screamed as harsh fingers tickled her sides. "Stop, No-no! Stop! Uncle!"

"That's the magic word," he replied, setting Sarah back on her feet and messing up her hair. "Booger, you remember Kurt, right?"

"Don't call me that!" Sarah complained, knowing it probably wouldn't do any good. Noah had been calling her that since before she could remember, which was a long time. "And I remember you, Kurt. You guys brought your doll along again. Can I watch her? I need ten more bucks."

"For what?" Noah asked suspiciously.

"None of your business, No-no," Sarah replied, crossing her arms over her chest and leading the way back into the kitchen. The big kids and Sarah's mom said their hellos and Kurt handed over a pastry that looked a thousand times better than the misshapen half-burned latkes that they were supposed to eat.

Brunch was boring, though the food was better than Sarah was expecting (her mom had let Kurt step in and fix things before they got too out of control).

Sarah was lamenting having to miss one of her favorite shows when she saw Noah and his fiancé kiss out of the corner of her eye. At least that Kurt boy made Noah happier than Sarah had ever seen him. It meant Noah was leaving sooner rather than later (even though he still had another year of school left!) but Sarah was turning nine in about a month. She was big enough to take care of herself, without her big brother in the house.

Emma Pillsbury, as the school guidance councilor, knew that it was her job to put together an intervention of sorts. No one knew what was going on between Kurt Hummel and Noah Puckerman, but their Sex Ed project had ended the day before and they were still attached at the hand more often than not. None of their friends had heard the whole story, and no one (Emma included) believed that they had gotten together because of a Sex Ed project. Emma was fairly certain Holly Holliday knew more than she was letting on, but whenever questioned, the infuriating woman would just shrug and wink, saying, "That's their business, sugerpie."

Emma thought through her speech very carefully, so that she could deliver it without too much nervousness. Public speaking had never been her thing, and as a guidance councilor, usually she only had to speak to one or two people at a time. As she was straightening her things in preparation for leaving her office in favor of the choir room, Sue stuck her head into the room. "I heard about your little confrontation, Annie, and I want in."

"Well, it's ... it's an intervention," Emma insisted, putting one last pencil away. "The goal of which is to impress upon Misters Hummel and Puckerman the value of telling the truth and being up front with those closest to you."

"I'll be there!" Sue grinned. "But not so much for the truth bit. I admit I was confused at first, which made me angry until I realized, they learned from the best. A good old lie to keep people on their toes, that's Sue-Syvlester style."

"Syl-vester, you mean."

"Changed my name," Sue replied, following Emma out the door. "At least until the laser tattoo removal starts working."

Emma didn't even want to know.

After talking to Will, they decided that the intervention had to happen during glee, when all of Kurt's and Puck's friends would be in attendance. Emma stood at the front of the room as the kids filed in, most of them nodding at her in acknowledgment. She had asked all of the students to prepare a sentence or two about how Kurt and Puck made them feel by pretending to be in a relationship.

When Will came up to her, he said, "I don't know about this, Emma. Shannon seems pretty convinced that what they have is real."

"Even if it is," Emma shrugged, "they should admit that their overnight change and subsequent strange behavior was upsetting to their friends and that they could have just told the truth."

Then the two boys in question showed up, hand-in-hand as had recently become usual, and it was clear they had no idea what was going on. Emma nodded to George and Simon, the two jazz band members who had agreed to man the doors for her, in case either boy tried to make a run for it before their friends were done speaking. Of course, there was no way a skinny boy like George could best Puck, but he might be able to slow him down just a little.

The thought of a fistfight – with all those open wounds and poorly washed hands – made Emma want to shudder, which was a reflex that she fought. People had immune systems for a reason, as Carl liked to say. Not every germ meant death. Most of them were helpful. Emma wasn't quite sure she believed him, but she was willing to give her husband the benefit of the doubt.

As soon as the bell started ringing, Rachel was on her feet, hand raised high in the air. "Yes, Rachel?" Will asked, taking charge of the class, which was great. Emma felt most comfortable in a supporting role, and always had.

Rachel stalked up to the front of the room, saying, "As team captain, I'd like to start off today's exercise by going first. Kurt? Puck? I feel very lucky to have you both as my very good friends, but something had to be said. This is a gay-vention. That's a gay-intervention. Puck – what the hell? I understand your need to mess with the students at this school, but I thought we were close. I'd like to think that if you were questioning your sexuality, you could talk to me about it, since I have two gay dads, which gives me incredible insight."

"Oh, dear," Emma sighed as she watched Puck's face close up. He had the same expression Emma had seen him wearing right before he dragged Jacob Ben Israel out of peer mediation and gave him a patriotic wedgie. Figgins had to suspend Puck for two weeks, and Emma had to explain to Mrs. Ben Israel how her son ended up suspended twenty feet in the air by his underpants.

"And Kurt!" Rachel continued, absolutely livid. "I told you all my secrets – all of them – from some need to foster good will and put our rivalry to rest, and all you can say about this whatever you have going with Puck is that a Sex Ed project was behind it? I thought we were better friends than that!"

Kurt opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but Puck put his hand on the other boy's chest, holding him back and making Kurt shut his mouth with just a look. Oh, that was not good. Emma knew that domestic violence situations started out with just such controlling behavior. And Puck did tend to be violent, suggesting he may have grown up in a household where physical force was used to get a point across more often than words were. Of course, some boys just had a bad reaction to puberty for a few years and grew out of it, so Emma had to keep that in mind as well.

When neither boy responded to Rachel's rant, she shrieked in frustration and stormed out of the room.

"Okay," Emma smiled, trying not to let things lag too much, as her interventions manual had instructed. "Who would like to speak next?"

Finn stood up and went to the door, opening it and dragging in a shorter, dark-haired boy that Emma thought she had seen around before, but she wasn't sure of his name. "Blaine and I have some things to say, especially to Kurt. I thought we were brothers, man, and Blaine's one of your best friends. Why can't you tell us the truth?"

"It's okay, Kurt," the boy – Blaine – added with an emphatic nod. "I think it's great that you're dating someone, I really do. And I love that we're such close friends, but I feel like we can't be close friends if you keep the truth about your relationship with Puck from me. Now, I'm not asking for details or anything, just the truth."

That's when the rest of the club started chanting, "Truth! Truth! Truth!"

"Now, now," Emma tried to say over the crowd. "That's not how we do these things!" Her words didn't seem to have much of an effect. The chant had taken hold, Will didn't seem to want to stop it, Kurt looked almost mortified, and Puck looked about ready to start cracking skulls. "Quiet down! Shush!"

"Screw you!" Puck cried, standing up and facing the glee club, despite Kurt's efforts to keep the boy in his seat. "That's our business! You are all a bunch of gossipy bitches!"

"Truth! Truth! Truth!"

Oh, no. This was not going to end well. Emma considered exactly how many germs might be swapped around if a fight broke out and it paralyzed her. She couldn't do anything but stare, wide-eyed, as Puck grabbed Finn by the shirt and pulled back his fist.

David Karofsky had taken to eavesdropping more often than not lately, since it seemed really important to make sure no one was talking about him – besides how he was on his way to ruling this school and how awesome his latest slushie take-down had gone. Then Puck and Kurt showed up to school engaged or whatever and Karofsky spent more time eavesdropping on the people that were speculating what might be going on there.

Which was how Dave found out about the gay-vention. God strike him down and kill him if his friends ever got it in their heads to throw something that embarrassing for him. Not that anyone knew. No one could know. Not here in Lima. Not anywhere in Ohio.

But it wasn't going away.

Thinking he'd better at least check out this gay-vention so he could laugh at Puckerman's stupidity, Karofsky stood out in the hallway next to one of the cracked-open choir room doors, listening in. And if anyone asked, he definitely hadn't done this before, listening to the stupid glee club sing and dance like assholes. Never, ever had he done that.

Okay, maybe once. Three times, tops.

That Rachel girl left in tears, which Dave wanted to see as funny, but since getting to know her a little bit better during their project, he couldn't . She was just a girl – a loud, obnoxious, bossy girl – but a girl. Dave wanted to be able to go and comfort her and then use that to his advantage to ask her out and bring her home and show her off, but he was sure that if Rachel would be the one to see through him. She wasn't dumb enough just to go along with it. Plus, Dave was pretty sure she hated him, so he'd have to tell her why he was such a douche to her and then she'd just insist on him coming out instead of sitting on this freaking secret like a land-mine ready to go off if he moved just an inch either way.

This sucked.

When the glee club started chanting, Dave laughed. Those freaks in glee club were so … shameless. They thought they could go around singing songs and demanding the truth from people? Yeah, right. Chuckling, Dave peeked into the room to see exactly how mortified Kurt was (damn, he was hot when he blushed) and how upset Puckerman looked by the whole thing. Puck was a douche, and he deserved whatever he was getting.

Except when Karofsky saw the room, Puck looked about a second away from beating the crap out of Kurt's stepbrother and Kurt looked so, so sad that Dave had to speak up. "Since Sectionals," Dave shouted as he stepped into the room, getting everyone's attention. Shit. Sweating a little under the pressure of so many eyes, Dave clarified himself by saying, "They've been together since your stupid-ass Sectionals competition or whatever."

"What!" Mercedes cried, grabbing Kurt and turning him around. "You and Puck have been together for five months, baby?"

"Sectionals?" That Dalton kid asked, looking a little betrayed, which made Dave wonder if Puck stole Kurt from the guy. Everyone knew only wusses stay friends with their exes, so … okay, yeah, maybe Puck had taken Kurt from Blake or whatever his name was.

Kurt pursed his lips angrily in Dave's direction as he stood up, gently directing Puck away from Finn. "Yes. Thank you, Karofsky, for ruining the surprise."

"What surprise?" Finn asked, smoothing down his shirt with one hand. "Wait, how does Karofsky know and we don't?"

"The 'Ha-ha, we got you but we really are together and sort of engaged' surprise party Kurt had all planned out for tomorrow, you impatient douche-bags!" Puck cried, putting his arm around Kurt's shoulders in a way that definitely did not make Dave jealous.

"Oh," Finn replied, looking abashed.

"Hold on a sec," Santana said, holding one finger up. "You two are engaged? Like, seriously?"

"Haven't you seen them lately?" Quinn asked her, pointing to the couple. "Puck's not that good of a liar."

"But he and Kurt both hid this from us for so long!" Artie argued, and Karofsky took that as his cue to leave. He hoped everyone would forget that he was the one who had known about Kurt and Puck ever since the fairy boy came back to McKinley, but what if they didn't? How would those two explain?

What if they told everyone Dave's secret? What if they broke their promise to keep it a secret, as long as Dave stopped harassing Puck's boy? Dave knew he could fight, but that Puck guy had been to prison. He wouldn't be able to back up his threats when they'd struck the deal. Puckerman could just tell everyone Dave was gay and he wouldn't be able to do much to stop it.

On his way out of the building, Dave almost ran into Rachel, who was stalking her way back toward the choir room like she was on a mission. "Hey, Berry," he called, stopping her in her tracks.

"What, Karofsky?" she demanded, turning around to look at him.

Dave leaned against the lockers behind him and said, "I'm sorry about our grade. I kinda sucked at being a dad."

"You kinda suck at being a human being," Rachel shot back, and Dave didn't know why, but the words made something hurt sharply in his chest.

"You don't know me, Rachel," he insisted, watching as the girl's face softened. "I know I've been rough on Kurt, but that was before I got some stuff figured out. I don't really think he needs a dwarf picking on him, too."

When Dave turned and left, Rachel had the funniest look of confusion on her wide-eyed face, so he laughed. So what if Puck and Kurt said some stuff? It wasn't like Dave was going to confirm it or whatever. Nah, he'd escape Ohio first, get new friends who weren't such assholes, and then finish figuring this whole thing out. He could sit on a land mine for another year, right?

So, one more chapter – Puck and Kurt's side of things – to go, and I'll be posting that one tomorrow. Please review and thanks for reading!