The idea for Kurt's living arrangement comes from my friend, Dragon
Puck stops trailing kisses down Kurt's bare back and growls, "Where the fuck did this come from?"
Kurt's disoriented and most of the blood isn't in his brain anymore, so he's having trouble understanding Puck's question. "What?"
"Where the fuckdid this fucking giant-ass bruise come from?" Puck asks, prodding it a little with one finger, which makes Kurt groan. "Is someone around school ragging on you? Is it that Azimio shithead? If you want, I'll pin him down while you cut off his junk."
"Shut the fuck up, Puckerman," Kurt replies, pulling away and reaching for his ripped, gray wifebeater. "It was just an accident."
"Bull shit." Puck grabs Kurt's top before he can get it over his head and throws it across the room. He catches Kurt's wrists in a tight grip and holds them together at the small of Kurt's back. "What sort of accident? The kind where there's someone to blame? Someone whose nuts I can kick up into his throat?"
Kurt struggles in Puck's grip and cries, "Fuck off. It was just..."
"Just what?" Puck asks in Kurt's ear, letting his wrists slip loose. Relief at being freed rushing through his body like a breath of cool air, Kurt rubs his wrists and tells Puck, "It was just Aunt Mildred. Last night she was drunk out of her mind and stumbled into me and I hit the kitchen counter. Satisfied?"
"No." Puck pouts, but he doesn't say anything more about revenge. Instead, he leans his head against Kurt's and says softly, "Let's bail on this shithole, baby. Let's just get in my truck and keep driving until we hit ocean."
Kurt didn't realize it, but this is what he's been waiting for - someone who wants to be part of the future he hasn't let himself think about since the car crash that killed his parents. Thinking about the future is useless, though, because everyone knows that punks like Kurt and Puck never leaveLima.
So Kurt doesn't answer. Instead, he kisses Puck hard, pushes him onto the bed, and reaches for the bottle Puck bought almost two months ago, but they haven't opened yet.
Later, Kurt presses the Puck's shoulders down against the mattress and asks without sympathy, "Does it hurt?"
"Fuck, yeah," Puck replies, panting into his hands, "but that's what makes it so good, babe."
He decides he really likes hurting Puck this way and maybe he won't ever stop.