This drabble takes place a year before all the others in the series so far!
Fourth Year—September
"Hey Hummel!" Kurt's conversation with Mercedes and Sam was interrupted when Noah Puckerman yelled across the Great Hall. The loud noise of dinnertime chatter quieted. Everyone wanted to hear what the resident delinquent wanted from the Golden Boy.
"That's Captain to you, Puckerman." The hall erupted in whispers and calls of "Burn, Puck!"
Puck smirked, "My bad. Hey, Captain!" Kurt, who had turned back to his friends after initially responding to his Beater, thinking it was the end of it, sighed.
"What, Puckerman?" The whispers grew in volume.
"Could I borrow your wand? I need to practice my 'swish and flick.'"
Kurt's face burned as the entire hall gasped and burst into furious gossip. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Mercedes.
"Oh, hell to the no!" She stood up from her seat and stalked over to where Puck was sitting with more of the Quidditch team. "You do not talk to my boy like that. Hell, you don't talk to your captain like that. Don't make me cut you!"
The whispers became absolute bedlam. Kurt winced as the crowd went wild over Mercedes' (welcome) protection. He was grateful for Mercedes' help, but he really hated being in the center of attention like this. Thankfully, it was about to be over.
"Jones! Puckerman! Break it up, now, or the both of you can spend the next eight hours cleaning my trophies." Professor Sylvester effectively shut up the Great Hall. The noise level slowly reached a normal one as everyone went back to their own business. Mercedes was still cursing under her breath as she came back to her seat.
"The nerve of that punk, talking to you like that. Sylvester or no, I'd cut him if you want me to, baby." Kurt smiled.
"Thanks, 'Cedes, but I'll make him regret it in practice tomorrow. I suddenly foresee a Beater drill involving a lot more Bludgers than strictly necessary."
Sam looked contemplative, "But why did he do it? Puck isn't the type of guy to humiliate someone in the middle of the Great Hall at dinner."
Mercedes snorted, "It's just what I've been saying. Boy be trippin'."
Fourth Year—October
"Captain!"
Kurt looked up from his Charms homework at the whispered cry. Looking around the crowded library, he saw Puck sitting forward in his armchair, eyes twinkling with what could only be described as mischievous.
"What, Puck?" Kurt whispered back, annoyed at the interruption.
"Interested in making some magic together? My wand is at the ready."
Kurt blushed deeply and the blush deepened when Puck sat back and opened his legs even more. The bulge in his jeans was clearly visible, even from three tables away.
"Do you want to be hexed into next Tuesday, Puckerman? Because that can be arranged!" With that, Kurt closed all of the books he was using, placed them in a pile, and stalked out of the library, fueled by embarrassment and annoyance.
Fourth Year—December
"Alright class, I know all of you are excited for your winter break, but the headmaster said that we are not allowed to have a party instead of class, so Professor Sylvester and I were forced to come up with a lesson plan." The class groaned in unison.
Professor Schuester held up his hands, asking for quiet. "But, the lesson plan is fun, I promise."
"That's what he said about the Goblin War Taboo fiasco," Santana muttered.
"And the Second Great War game of charades," Rachel sighed.
"Basically, we're screwed," Mike said.
"Today, we'll be putting to test all the things Professor Sylvester and I have taught you in the past four years." Kurt groaned, This is supposed to be fun?
Professor Sylvester, who had been scribbling furiously in a book Kurt was pretty sure was her journal, looked up. She took off her glasses and tossed them and the quill she was using on the desk. Standing up, she yelled, "Enough jibber jabber! Mouthbreathers, I'm only going to say this once! Out of your seats!"
The class jumped to obey the command. As soon as everyone was out of their chairs, the desk and said chairs disappeared with a flick of Sue's wand. Kurt looked around wildly before jumping at the sound of Sue's voice.
"Wands out!" she barked. Kurt had a really bad feeling about this as he took out his oak wand.
"Now, except for any spells that cause lasting damage or draw blood, you may use whatever hex, charm, or incantation. Once a spell hits you, you are automatically taken out of the game. The last one standing does not have to do the holiday homework." Kurt's eyes widened and he shared a look of horror with Mercedes, she can't be suggesting what I think she's suggesting!
"That's right, mouthbreathers. It's an all out melee! Three, two, one—" She blew into the whistle that was permanently fixed around her neck.
It was absolute chaos. At once, thirty fourteen-year-olds started throwing spells and dodging blows. Kurt was suddenly reminded of the first five minutes of Saving Private Ryan.
He quickly ducked to avoid Quinn's Flipendo charm, only to have it hit Santana. Kurt volleyed back a Jelly-Legs jinx at the unsuspecting blonde. Two down, seventeen more to go.
Or less. People were being tagged, left and right. Finn fell victim to Puck's Pretificulus totalus and Mercedes was knocked out by Sam's well-aimed stunning spell. The crowd of teenagers was thinning out and Kurt was starting to think that he could take this thing. He levitated Rachel so that she was shrieking six feet off the ground. Soon she disappeared to the other side of the forcefield that isolated the dueling arena from the "knocked out" pile of people watching the rest of the fight.
Puck smirked at Kurt as they turned to face each other, being the last two in the running. They circled each other and then Puck opened his mouth. "Forget Wingardium Leviosa; I've got my own spell to raise that wand of yours."
Kurt grit his teeth and the hold he had on his wand became tighter, "Puckerman?"
"Yeah, Captain?" So, so cheeky. That was going to be the end of him.
"Flipendo!" It was the strongest Knockback Jinx anyone has ever used, Kurt was sure by the way Puck flew back into the wall. Kurt was mildly concerned at the Crack! sound that emitted when Puck's head made contact with the wall, but he chose not to think about it.
Fourth Year—May
Kurt couldn't believe it. There he was, in the middle of the Quidditch Cup final, and Noah Puckerman decides to screw with his head, making all hopes of winning the Quidditch Cup in his first year of captaincy fall spectacularly.
What did his idiot Beater do right before the game? Only declare his love and devotion for Kurt.
"Captain, I don't know what I've been doing wrong all year, but you've turned me down every time I asked you out. So I'm telling you this now, if we win today, you will go to the village with me and we'll make out in the diner, got it?"
Kurt, who was dumbstruck at the prospect of Puck being serious about all of the "attempts", nodded slowly.
And fuck if Puck's blinding smile wasn't lingering in the back of his brain as he tried to concentrate on not letting the Quaffle in any of the hoops ever. Fuck. The score was tied at 30-30 and the game had been in effect for close to three hours now. Kurt was happy to see the Carmel team slowly losing steam, while his players were fine. All those hours of drills and running weren't for naught; Kurt's team had to have been the best-conditioned school team in the history of ever.
Still, the length of the game was making him nervous, because the longer they played, the longer Kurt had to think about the fact that Noah Puckerman, man-whore extraordinaire, wanted to get into Kurt's skintight jeans. Being wanted was something new for Kurt. Being wanted by someone so hot (funny, sweet, talented, athletic) was on another plane of whattheabsolutefuckery.
Kurt snapped out of it as he just barely managed to catch the Quaffle. He hurled it at Quinn, who tossed it to Finn and Tina joined in for a swift Hawkshead formation. Kurt growled when the formation was broken up by a Bludger lobbied at them by the Carmel Beaters.
"Berry! If you don't catch the Snitch in the next five minutes, I'm going to torch your signed Barbara Streisand poster, I swear to Merlin!"
Rachel looked stricken at the prospect and visibly redoubled her efforts to locate the winged-ball. After about thirty seconds, she dived toward the ground at neckbreaking speed. Kurt gasped as she neared the ground and lost his breath entirely when he saw the Snitch. Which was hovering about ten feet off the ground. Right next to the Carmel Seeker, who was apparently blind.
The crowd started cheering and gasping and it was only a matter of time before the Carmel Seeker turned ninety-degrees and see the Snitch two feet in front of him.
Kurt couldn't watch. They worked so hard all season to reach this point and they were going to lose to soulless automatons. Rachel was getting nearer and nearer, but she was never going to get there in time; the Carmel Seeker was already starting to turn.
And, when he turned to see the Snitch, he went to grab it only to find himself knocked off his broom by a Bludger. A Bludger hit at him by none other than Noah Puckerman.
Kurt had the sudden urge to kiss him absolutely senseless.
Rachel dived and resurfaced, arm above her head in triumph. In her small hand laid the Golden Snitch, wings retracted, all resistance gone.
They won. They won. Tears were already streaming down Kurt's face as Jacob Ben-Israel screamed in his nasally voice over the PA system, "McKinley WIIIIIIIINS!"
Kurt flew over to the floating mass that was his team hugging Rachel in mid-air. The group as a whole, arms around each other, descended on the pitch, where the huddled mass broke up into individuals running at each other in congratulations and Glee. Santana and Quinn hugged as Tina was twirled around by Finn. Rachel was dumped with the cooler of water by Sam and Kurt didn't know what to do with himself when Puck approached him.
"That was a pretty good hit, wasn't it, Cap—mmmph!" Puck's bragging was cutoff by Kurt's lips on his. Kurt threw himself at the mohawked Beater, arms wrapping around his neck and standing on his tiptoes. Puck made a noise of surprise before responding to the kiss, parting Kurt's lips with his tongue. Kurt sighed into Puck's mouth, which only increased the hold Puck had of Kurt's waist.
When the need for air became too demanding, the two broke apart, panting. Kurt, whose mind was so fogged up by the kiss, took the longest time to understand the screams around him. His best friend's voice cut through the noise, though.
"Finally! Boy, I thought it was going to take another year for you to seal the deal!" Mercedes cried.
Kurt ignored her, choosing instead to look Puck in the eye. They were still plastered to each other, Kurt's arms around Puck's neck and Puck's arms encircling Kurt's waist, when Kurt smirked. "Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"