Game
"I still can't believe you don't wash your own Mohawk," Kurt said with a shake of his head from where he was perched on the Puckerman's counter, his legs crossed and an open issue of Us Weekly laying in his lap. "It's a basic grooming habit people learn in third grade, if not before, Noah."
"Yeah, I know, you tell me this like every time you're here when Ma does it," Puck reminded him, his head tilted into the sink with Mae's hands scrubbing at his line of hair. "And Quinn tells me now, too, you don't have to remind me every time."
Before Kurt could retort, the front door creaked open and slammed shut and soon the kitchen also contained Sara Puckerman. Noticing Kurt, she dropped her backpack and ran up to him, hugging his knees. He laughed softly, "Hey, little sis. How was school?"
"It sucked," she pouted, scrambling to sit next to him as he closed his magazine. "A whole bunch of the older kids took the swings at recess before I could get there and then during math I got the problem she asked me to do wrong even though I had tripled checked it and everything! And Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing isn't funny and makes no sense but we have to listen to it during reading time, it's stupid!"
"Aw, I'm sorry, Sara, want me to do your hair? Will that make you feel better?" She nodded wildly, turning her back to him and asking for a French braid. Kurt pulled out the ponytail she had and quickly went to work at her scalp. He kept her entertained with a story of how he and Puck had to take on Karofsky and Azimio in elementary school when they wouldn't let Kurt ride the slide down.
"I don't understand why they're so mean to you, unless they like you or something! Ma told me that when Tommy pulls on my ponytail it means he likes me," Sara interjected, swinging her legs off the corner of the counter.
"Oh, that's true, they might, Kurt," Mae called from the sink in a sing-song voice, teasing evident in her body language.
Kurt snorted, "I'm pretty sure that's not the case. They're both just jerks who don't want people to be different because then they have to accept that they're simply mediocre." He continued with her hair and the story, "Anyways, so there I was, Puck had already gone down the slide and I was surrounded by these two goons who were bigger than me, even then. I had no idea what to do. So I start bad mouthing them like I always do, calling them idiots, insulting their fashion sense, everything I could think of back then, when I see Noah sneak up behind them. He gestured at me to keep talking so I kept making up more and more stuff. They kept getting angrier and angrier until, finally, Noah sprang into action, grabbing both of them and pushing them down the slide at the same time, right as Mrs. Wilkinson was walking by. They got accused of breaking the rules but sliding down at the same time and had to sit inside for the rest of recess. I never had a problem using the slide ever again."
Sara jerked her head to Pucks' direction, her mouth wide even as Kurt frowned as some of the braid came undone at her action. "You really did that, No?"
"Hell yeah," Puck said, Kurt rolling his eyes at his obvious "badass" demeanor he was adopting. "They gave me a ton of crap afterwards but you do what you can for your best friend."
Kurt raised an eyebrow as he turned Sara's head back to look straight in front of her. "You never told me they gave you crap."
"What? I didn't? Huh. Well, yeah, like in the dumb kids math class they were pretty brutal, just normal kid teasing, no big deal, I've dealt with worse."
"All because of me?"
"I guess because we're friends, yeah, but I've never had anything physical at least, people are too afraid of me to do that. But I guess I've taken some shit because of our friendship, I figured you knew that."
Kurt shrugs, "I guess I never really thought about that event in particular." As he braided Sara's hair, he thought on it more. Why was it bugging him to learn that Noah had to deal with so much to be his friend? He knew since they were in elementary school that Noah wanted to be his friend despite what other kids thought, but he never thought of him getting crap from others just by himself. He assumed that Noah's traditional good looks and bad boy image kept him popular enough that when he was without Kurt he was treated better than when Kurt was around, but apparently that wasn't true. Maybe it was bothering him because—
"Sara, can you go up to your room and start your homework?"
Sara and Kurt looked at Mae with wide eyes, concerned by her tone of voice. But after a moment Sara jumped off the counter, flouncing off with her book bag, humming the long division song she had learned at school. "Kurt? Can you come here?" Mae asked, ignoring Puck's questions about what was going on above his head.
Kurt got off the counter, slowly walking towards the sink. He looked over at them at Mae looked near tears. "Kurt, tell me that I'm seeing things and there isn't a mole sitting on my baby's scalp."
He leaned over the edge of the sink and winced at the sight. There was definitely a mole, and not the typical kind, barely noticeable due to the color and thickness of Puck's hair. He slowly looked back at her and nodded, squeezing her hand as she started to bawl dramatically, the only way Mae knew how to do things.
—
Puck looked over at Kurt after he finished checking in at the dermatology clinic. Kurt was watching the other people there—a few acne-prone teens and some old men with sunspots—with his finger in his mouth, chewing on a nail nervously. Puck sighed to himself and pulled the hand down, giving it a small squeeze as he held it. "Don't do that, Kurt; you'll ruin your manicure," Puck said monotonously, this being something he helped Kurt with every time he was upset enough to resort to his nervous habit.
"Do you want me to go in with you?" Kurt asked. "I know you know where the mole is and all but maybe it'll be better if you can have someone point it out and I kn—"
"I'm fine, Kurt," Noah sighed for at least the twelfth time in the past thirty minutes. "He'll look at my head, give me the all clear, and we'll be out of here and having celebratory blizzards at DQ or something."
"Or we'll go to my house for the secret ice cream stash I've hidden from my dad," Kurt gave him a small half smile and returned to his people watching, ignoring Puck's nerves. Puck hated it when Kurt could tell what he was truly feeling when it was something not so masculine.
Despite the cool demeanor he showed his best friend, Puck was terrified. Mama Kate died from ovarian cancer and while it was a different type of cancer and everything, the thought of having the same disease, of possibly having to go through that scared him beyond all belief. The idea of going through the chemo that made her so weak and fragile and the radiation that ruined her beautiful hair, to make his best friend go through watching one of the few loved ones in his life, one of the few people allowed past his cold exterior, go through the same sickly disease, it tore his heart up and made his stomach bubble unhappily with nerves. He couldn't put Kurt through it, or his mom or his baby sister of even Burt. Damn it he should've listened to his Ma and Kurt and put on sunscreen all those times. Kurt was so fucking adamant about sun safety and always had sunscreen with him, why was he an idiot who never asked to borrow any?
"Noah Puckerman?" Noah's head whipped to the nurse calling for him. He stood up, swallowing roughly and walking into the back area where the examining rooms were, Kurt mouthing I love you as he watched him go, his leg bouncing nervously.
It seemed like an eternity to Kurt until Puck finally walked back out, his old hoodie covering his head as he checked out. He gave Kurt a nod and they left the office, going towards the parking lot of the hospital. They were silent. When they finally reached the car, Puck muttered, "It was nothing."
Kurt let out a joyful laugh in disbelief, his eyes possibly getting the slightest bit misty. "Noah, that's great news! When you didn't say anything I assumed they were getting a biopsy or something but this is great why are you so unhapp—" Kurt stopped his blabbering as Puck's hoodie fell off to reveal a clean shaven head. "N-Noah, your…your—"
"'Hawk? It's gone? Yeah, I've noticed Kurt," Puck grumbled, running a hand through his scalp. "Damn it, Kurt, I've lost everything in one fucking move. The stupid doctor couldn't see it well enough or some shit and now I have lost the secret to my badassness and my ability to woo women and everything! It's not fair, Kurt, it's just not fair." To complete the rant, he gave a childlike pout, crossing his arms as he kicked the glove compartment drawer.
"Hey, don't hit my baby!" Kurt immediately reprimanded, wiping the area of his car with his hand. He sighed heavily and looked at Puck out of the corner of his eye for a moment before turning back to the road. "Look, if you keep acting like that, you won't get any women or whatever you think fulfills your life. Girls go for you because of your attitude and tan and muscles and looks, the Mohawk had absolutely nothing to do with that. So stop acting like an insolent little kid and you'll still get some action."
Puck continued to pout for a while. But slowly and surely he uncrossed his arms and sat up a bit straighter. When they arrived at Kurt's house, he pulled up his hood and swagged all the way out of the car and into the house. He totally still had game.
—
He had no game.
Santana was the easiest catch for him. They were complete friends with benefits, sexing up each other practically every other day and now she was denying him. He knew he lost all his power with that goddamn haircut, why did he let Kurt convince him otherwise? If he couldn't get Santana of all people to hook up with him, if he couldn't get people to flinch when he walked towards them, if he wasn't the badass anymore…what the hell was he?
He was so bummed that he didn't notice Jason Ben Israel and his team of freak friends sneak up on him. He was so upset he didn't fight them, knowing he could take every single one of them out. He was garbage, human garbage, and he deserved to be thrown into the dumpster.
As he lifted his head out over the edge, he was caught by the strange sight of Mercedes surrounded by popular girls, all of their Cheerio uniforms waving in the breeze as they jammed. That was right, she was a Cheerio now, too; Puck had a hard time remembering that she was now up higher on the social ladder (it didn't help Kurt too much since he was a male one after all). Man, if only he could convince her to date him. That would fix everything. He'd be hot shit again in the female world because nothing said attractive to a woman like "taken"…
She looked over at him, raising an eyebrow at his current location. He smiled his winning smile and sent her a wink, causing her to raise her eyebrow even more and turn back around in confusion. Oh yeah, he so had game again.
—
"Hey, 'Cedes," Puck greeted Mercedes at her locker, his badass façade on and ready. "I have a proposition to make. I did some research and blacks and Jews have a history of sticking up for each other. And Wikipedia says that King Martin Luther loved the Jews."
"Okay, you just said, like, ten offensive things," Mercedes said monotonously. Puck saying unintentionally offensive things was something you dealt with when you were friends of sorts with him and great friends with his best friend.
"The point is, you're popular now, and I, to be honest, need to spice up my image a little. We should join forces. It won't take much, just a little light making out—I like a girl with curves. Plus, you have to admit, I'm easy on the eyes."
Mercedes let out a laugh, "You're not serious." She looked up at him and lost her smile, "…you're serious. Wow." She paused for a moment, trying to figure out how the hell Puck thought this was a good idea. "Baby, I am just not attracted to you. And I know what you do with girls who you date. You knock 'em up and hang them out to dry."
"Quinn and I weren't dating—and you were one of the people telling me not to chase after her. And she knew I'm a sex shark; if I stop moving, I die," Puck insisted, just barely stopping himself from pleading.
"Okay, I'm going to ask you to stop because I'm getting embarrassed for you. You and me would not work out," Mercedes said, shutting her locker. Shaking her head, she said, "Think of Kurt, think of our friendship. It's such a mess already, do we really want to risk breaking whatever this friendship is just so you can improve your image? And we have nothing in common; You're Top 40, I'm Rhythm and Blues."
Puck watched her go, lips pursed. Why did no girls want him anymore? Santana, Brittany, random Cheerios, Rachel, Mercedes, Quinn…he clenched his fists and went the opposite direction. He would get her, he would. He might not be accepted by Quinn as her baby's father or Santana's first choice as a make out partner anymore, but he was not losing this battle.
As soon as Mercedes turned the corner, her phone was out and to her ear, "Artie, we have a problem."
—
Mercedes just smiled and nodded as Kurt talked about castratos and Whitney Houston, even though she'd normally correct him by pointing out the obvious fact that only she was allowed to sing Whitney, thank you very much. Puck's sudden interest in her, though just for popularity reasons, was messing with her head and while she normally would talk to Kurt about those things, telling him that Puck was trying to date her for selfish reasons would probably just piss Kurt off. She just wanted to stay out of that whole Puckurt dynamic; meddling had done little to no good before, after all, Artie's words ringing in her head. "Whatever you do, don't fall for it. It'll screw up your friendship with Kurt and push Puck and Kurt farther away, which we definitely do not need right now."
"Hey, Kurt!"
Kurt turned around from his conversation with Mercedes, shocked to say the least. Why was his dad at school? Then his mind went to panic mode, remembering the last time Burt went to school to see him; at Clover Field Elementary School, Burt picked up Kurt to take him to the hospital, the doctor having told him that Kate wasn't going to last much longer. "What are you doing here, is everything okay?"
"No, yeah, everything's fine, I'm just here to get Finn. I managed to get two tickets to the Reds game, so I thought I'd take him. He's never seen a major league game, y'know? I mean, Cincinnati is barely major league, but still—"
"And why wasn't I invited?" Kurt asked, trying not to jump to the obvious conclusion.
"You kidding me?" Burt let out a small chuckle. "Every time I watch a game with you, you just talk about how the guys are all wearing stirrup pants."
"That's because there's never an excuse for stirrup pants!" Kurt said, exasperated.
But before he could say anything else, Finn came out of the choir room, happier than Kurt had ever seen him, running out to the car like a little kid. Like Kurt used to run out of school when his dad would pick him up and take him to the garage, back before his sexuality wasn't in the open, before his dad met the guy who should've been his son.
"This is going to be so great," Burt said excitedly, slowly backing away from Kurt. "It means so much to him and it means so much to his mom, too. So I'll be home late, around midnight. See you, Kurt."
And there he was, alone, his dad so eager to spend time with his new son that he didn't stop to think about Kurt, how he felt. Kurt stared at the empty spot for a few moments. Finally he took a deep breath and walked off, determined to find Noah.
—
"Hey, Noah…" Kurt started, holding onto the strap of his messenger bag with both hands, his feet close together. Noah knew that look; that was the "I'm too proud to ask for comfort but I need some hugs right now" look. It was the look he gave every time Mama Kate came home sicker from the hospital treatments, when the bullying got a bit too much, the look he gave the night Burt was watching the game with Finn.
Never had Puck been so annoyed by one look.
"Look, Kurt, I know my problems are just shallow compared to yours because you're deeper or whatever, but I don't have time to deal with yours right now, I'm trying to work through my own shit, okay?" Puck groaned, running his hands over his head and scraping at the bare flesh. He needed to win Mercedes over, he needed it or his whole identity would be gone.
Kurt looked confused, bewilderment delaying the pain of his best friend rejecting him in a moment of need. "What?"
"Kurt, Santana rejected me, you were wrong, my Mohawk was everything. Can you just go—"
"Really? You're pissed that you aren't getting laid?" Kurt snarled, his hands dropping to his sides. "My dad is replacing me with the dream son he always wanted and you're pissed that you don't have a place to stick your dick that isn't your hand?"
"You know it's more than that, Kurt, this is my whole fucking identity stolen from me! I'm the player, the badass. Now no one fears me, no one wants to sleep with me. What the hell am I now?" Puck collapsed into the chair, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands.
"You're Noah Elijah Puckerman, my best friend in the whole world, the best guy I know. Why are you freaking out about this?"
"My life isn't defined by you, Kurt. I'm my own person, do you not realize that?"
Kurt rolled his eyes, "Of course I recognize that you're your own person. But yelling about it isn't going to help. Can you stop being a stupid boy and be my Noah so we can talk and work this out?"
Puck wasn't sure why that comment pushed him over the edge, why that made him act out, but before he knew it, he was yelling at Kurt. Actual yelling, raised voice and everything. He never did that before. "Kurt, can't you just be a fucking normal guy for once? I've put up with your cooking and fashion and theater shit all for you, now can you just fucking man up and do what guys do and leave me alone? My reputation was bad enough with my fucking 'hawk because of you, now I have nothing. Do you not get it?"
The room was silent for a long time as Puck caught his breath, his fists unclenching. As his breathing evened, he realized what he had just done, the weight of the words he just spewed from his mouth. Chancing a look at Kurt, his stomach sank. Kurt's face was tight and pale, his eyes blinking rapidly as he attempted not to cry. "Shit, Kurt, you know I didn't mean—"
"No. You're right. I need to 'man up.' I need to make things easier for everyone," Kurt said slowly, his voice wavering a bit at the end as he looked up at Puck, his chin jutting out defiantly. "And you bet I'll 'man up' more than you ever could. Just you fucking wait." He stared at Noah for a few moments and then finally grabbed a large stack of sheet music off the piano, walking over to Noah and hitting him hard. "See you tomorrow," he said calmly as he put the sheet music back on the piano.
Puck watched Kurt walk out, various curse words flowing through his head as he insulted himself and rubbed his arm; Kurt had stronger arms than he ever really let on.
—
Burt was concerned. Actually, concerned was an understatement. He was bewildered, flabberghasted, confused, shocked, and walking in a daze. Normally Kurt dressed like, if he was brutally honest, an even gayer version of that Jack guy on Will and Grace. Now his son was dressed like…well, like him.
He had an internal debate if he should ask Kurt what was up with the sudden love of flannel or if he should keep silent on the sudden change. Teens always had their phases, and maybe Kurt was just trying out a new look for a while. And while he loved his son, he still wasn't very good at that whole communication thing; he was more of a sit and wait to see how things turned out type of guy. So maybe parenting books said he should try talking to him, but his relationship with Kurt wasn't like a traditional father-son one, either.
Despite the internal debate, he took Kurt out for burgers, wanting a freaking burger without feeling guilty. And he had to admit it was nice talking to Kurt about something he liked, explaining Mellencamp to him, Kurt nodding and encouraging his words as he ate his burger as if he was starving (finally hitting puberty seemed to do that to him). He smiled crookedly, talking in a low voice that seemed to be a bit of a strain for him. "Do you have a cold or something, Kurt?"
His eyes widened for a brief instant, looking more like his normal self. But before Burt could even blink, he had that relaxed look weird lip snarl back and answered in that low voice, "No, I'm fine. Puberty to go with the growth spurt, it's normal." Burt gave him a look but nodded, letting the subject drop. If Kurt didn't want to tell him what was up, he couldn't force him. Kurt was far to stubborn for that and always needed some time before he could say what was wrong with him.
"So, then you get to 'Jack and Dianne'; it was our unofficial song, your mom and I…"
—
Puck was thankful that Kurt wasn't in the room as he started his speech on Sammy Davis Jr. Kurt was pissed at him already, and as soon as he found out that he was going after Mercedes, well, he wasn't going to get any happier. The best method to solving most of their fights, Puck had discovered, was letting Kurt rage to himself for a while, let him cry and hit his pillow and listen to his angry playlist. Then after a day or two, they'd talk it out, both calmer and less likely to blow up, and everything would be fine. And while he felt absolutely horrible for what he said, he knew trying to find him and trying to talk to him would do them both no good.
So he'd wait for Kurt to calm down then apologize profusely. They'd talk about why Puck felt like that, they'd apologize repeatedly, and they'd move on after a long hug. But right now he needed to focus on getting Mercedes and getting his reputation back, getting his life back. He focused so much he didn't notice Santana's Lima Heights Adjacent look.
—
Mercedes was smiling as she walked into her locker. Well, she was smiling until she saw Quinn standing there, her old bitch face on. Sighing, she walked over, "Look, I never thought I could fall for someone like Puck, especially since we're barely friends as is, but something just happened between us. I know he's just in it for popularity, but it's nice for a guy to want me for something, you know?"
Quinn blinked. "I'd say go for it…but what about Kurt? He's one of your closest friends. Are you really willing to get caught in the crosshairs of this whole not-a-relationship-but-totally-a-relationship thing?"
"What else can I do but go with the flow? We've talked about this; we can't do anything to push it. And maybe it will push them towards admitting," Mercedes shrugged. "I just don't see it harming anyone."
The blonde studied her for a bit more before finally relenting, "It would be nice to get him out of the house; I'm tired of hearing his theories about how Super Mario changed the world…I just don't want you to get hurt."
"Quinn, I know what this is, I'm not going to let him hurt my heart—"
"It's not your heart I'm worried about," Quinn said. "I may be okay with this, Kurt may be okay with this when he finds out what happens, but not even Puck will be able to stop Santana." She walked away as Mercedes stood at her locker, the tiniest bubble of concern forming.
—
As Mr. Schue called Glee Club to order, Kurt walked into the choir room, Mellencamp gear covering his thin frame and his hair unstyled under a baseball cap. "Is that a new guy—oh my god!" Tina whispered, her hand covering her mouth as she gasped. The members of New Directions slowly stopped and stared as he readied himself for his performance, Mr. Schue looking bewildered as he sat down.
The heavy guitar part started, the song obviously not from a Broadway musical like expected. Finn smiled and nodded his head to the beat, one of the few who enjoyed the performance. Quinn's maternal instincts were acting up, especially with someone so fragile and around her as much as Kurt; she just stared, eyebrows raised, any ideas of what to do escaping her head. Tina felt slightly sick, because he sounded pretty good, but it wasn't Kurt and how the hell did that happen? Rachel was frankly upset that Kurt was obviously not following directions and not doing a song that defined who he was, though she felt a bit of apprehension as to what this all meant. Santana avoided looking at Kurt, an unexplained sadness in her eyes; she didn't care about him or anything of course, but seeing someone so strong, someone who must be a role model for people gay people…it hurt. Matt stared at Brittany clapped along softly, enjoying the performance far too much. And Artie conversed briefly with the people around him, trying to figure out if anyone knew what was up with Kurt. Because whatever was up with Kurt probably had something to do with Puck.
Most of the group, even Mr. Schuester, turned to look at Puck after a while, wanting to see his reaction to his best friend losing his mind. Puck looked strained, more tired than anyone had ever seen him, like his mind was racing faster than he could keep up as he stared at Kurt. His eyes were narrowed and he leaned his forearms onto his knees, guilt forming a knot in his stomach. Had he done this to Kurt? He loved the Mellencamp, but this wasn't right. He was supposed to make up with Kurt in a few more days, but he couldn't make up with him if Kurt wasn't really there.
As the group clapped half-heartedly, Kurt did his best to walk like a stereotypical manly man up to his teacher. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Schue?" his voice struggling to stay at a lower pitch.
"I just don't think you got the point of the assignment," he said slowly, standing up. "You were supposed to find a song that was about who you really are."
"I'm not a box," Kurt whispered, his voice higher and softer, his emotions stopping his attempt to be "manly". "There are more than four sides to me." (Artie frowned; there were definitely six sides to a box).
"Kurt, you need to be who you are, even if it's difficult. You can do things that literally no one else can, and that's what we need." Kurt stared at him for a split second then turned on his heel, walking towards the door as Mr. Schue called for a short break.
"Hey, Kurt!" Brittany called after him, smiling as he turned back around. Puck watched them interact, noting Brittany's flirty look as she turned around and Kurt's shocked expression during the whole exchange. The knot in his stomach twisted again; he knew what that look on Brittany meant, and he was actually afraid Kurt might go through with her offer.
—
"Kurt, you can't do this," Puck said as he stormed to Kurt's locker, Kurt pretending not to be slightly freaked by the sudden noise by his ear.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said in the low voice, pulling out his Advanced Placement European History book.
"Bull shit, you know exactly what I'm talking about," Puck replied, his voice still gentle. "Why are you doing this, Kurt?" he asked softly, leaning in towards him. "I'm sorry for what I said, Kurt, I say stupid things, you know that—"
"You said the truth and I'm just sticking to it," Kurt shrugged, refusing to look Puck in the eye. He started pulling away, but Puck grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Kurt—"
"Stop touching me," Kurt said roughly, pulling his hand out of Puck's. "I need to go, I have a date with Brittany to prepare for."
Puck felt his stomach twist up even more, "Kurt, you can't go through with this." He grabbed his shoulders and looked him square in the eye, "Listen to me, Kurt, no one wants you to change, okay? Kurt, we love you for who are you, we don't want this…thing you're trying to be." Kurt still looked down at his feet so Puck pulled him into a hug, holding on tight. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I'm so sorry."
"Stop it!" Kurt finally protested, pulling out of Puck's hold after a bit of a struggle. "That's just plain weird, dude," he said, a hint of anger shining in his eyes. "You should try being a normal guy for once."
Noah felt his whole body freeze as Kurt walked away, his last words stinging like a bee. He would take those words since he threw them at Kurt in the first place, but it still hurt. Obviously he needed to do the trusted method of just waiting things out with Kurt. They'd be okay in a few days…right?
—
Kurt prepared his basement for his first kiss, lighting up tea candles and dimming the lights in his room. He didn't stop to think if it was a straight thing to do, just thinking about how he dreamt someone's perfect first kiss should go. Obviously he imagined Finn or Taylor Lautner or something, but at least someone wanted him. And maybe it wouldn't be that bad because Brittany knew how to kiss at least, right? He felt a bit bad about using her to try to help his relationship with his dad, but at least she was getting another notch in her bedpost, so to speak.
He put a sign on his doorknob to "warn" his dad as the doorbell rang. Swallowing audibly, he slowly opened it, putting his macho face back on. Instead of attempting conversation with Brittany, Kurt just led her to the basement, both of them sitting on the couch.
Several moments later, Kurt finally spoke up. "So…I, um, just lean in and…?" Kurt leaned in a bit, trying to angle his head just right.
"You've never kissed anyone, Kurt?" Brittany asked with a smile, tilting her head to the side. As Kurt pulled back with a blush, Brittany giggled. "Here, I'll show you just like how Santana showed me." With a bit of force, Brittany pushed Kurt onto his back, his legs resting on the couch's arm. Before he could move his boots off the furniture, she leaned over him, her hair tickling his cheek and her breath brushing against his lips. "Just relax," she whispered, leaning in until her lips gently pressed against Kurt's.
As she slowly moved his lips against his, Kurt's eyes opened again. Her lips were soft and thankfully her back was arched enough that her boobs weren't against his chest because boobs…just…no. He knew he wasn't straight, he just wanted to make his dad happy and attempt to make it up to Puck for all those times he got shit for being his friend, even if he was pissed and hurt because of what he said.
He gently moved Brittany's exploring hand away from his ass, his eyes still wide open as she recognized the weird taste on her lips. "Your lip gloss tastes like root beer," he whispered, glad to have a break from kissing her. "It's weird."
She didn't seem so keen on it, moving her lips back to his. Thankfully he managed to distract her again, "Can I ask you a question?" She didn't say anything so he asked something he wanted to know for the longest time, "What do boys' lips taste like?"
"Usually dip. Sometimes hamburgers. Or my armpits," Brittany answered, Kurt's eyes widening. "Kissing my armpits is a huge turn on for me," she said in a sultry whisper, leaning back into Kurt's lips.
Kurt was too bewildered to say anything, letting her kiss him again. He thought about those times Puck talked about hooking up with Brittany, how she kissed well, how she loved sucking him down and would do just about anything. Throughout every detail he never mentioned kissing her armpits, though, just regular kisses and "sexual relations", as Kurt liked to call it.
He kind of wanted to stop her and ask if each boy had a different taste and feel to their lips, if some guys had softer lips or if they all had rough ones, if some were more domineering while some were more hesitant and gentle. Did she kiss Finn on that date with him and Santana? Was he gentle? Were his lips as soft as they looked? What about Matt? Mike? He even was curious how Puck was as a kisser. He was probably rough, his lips soft and plump as he leaned in, his strong arms holding and his hands exploring like Brittany's continued to attempt to do—
Kurt gasped into the kiss, feeling a rush of something rushing through him out of nowhere, a shiver passing through his spine. Before he could even think about his sudden want of lips on his as he thought about his best friend, he heard his dad apologizing for walking in. Fighting a smile, he sat up, immediately forgetting about his strange thoughts as his plan on getting his dad's approval moved ahead.
—
Santana was an angry person. She'd never deny it and no one she knew would, either. Whereas some people healthily worked through their hurt and depression and anger, Santana wound it up inside and thrust it back out as pure fury toward everyone else.
Except for Brittany, of course. Brittany was the one person she could be a natural human being around, the one person she trusted enough to be nice enough to and hold back all her snark from. She called her dumb once and vowed never to do it again, no matter how frustrated she'd get, the crushed look Brittany sported afterwards breaking her heart in a way that none of the rest of the Glee Club losers looks could.
But that wasn't the point, Brittany wasn't the point. Brittany was not the only person in her life, the person who was like the Kurt to her Puck—Puck, now Puck was her problem. Puck was being a whiny little bitch so she didn't hook up with him, and now suddenly he was going after Wheezy? Uh-uh, not on her watch. Puck was her property, her hook up partner, her booty call, and he wasn't going to be with anyone, not Mercedes or Quinn or anyone.
And, hey, if Brittany wanted to make out with the King of the Gays to keep her perfect record, that was none of Santana's business, right? Brittany was just her friend, her best friend, but still her friend. She wasn't hers and never would be—not that she wanted that, either. She wanted Puck.
She wanted what was hers.
—
"And that's why Super Mario 3 was such a breakthrough; the others didn't have the Start Worlds!" Mercedes rolled her eyes quite obviously as Puck ranted on about his favorite video game, wondering how Kurt dealt with this man as his best friend. Maybe that's why he was off the deep end right now…
"Look, Puck, I realize you've probably never dated a sister, so I need to tell you that we have needs that you are not fulfilling right now," she finally interrupted, ready to shove knives into her eyes if he kept on talking about Super Mario.
"Um…okay?"
"Like the first think you should know is that I like those frozen coffee drinks."
"Oh, like the ones that Kurt drinks every now and then when he's on a calorie splurge?" Puck said with a small smile. Mercedes raised an eyebrow—seriously, he knew Kurt's guilty pleasure drink, how outstandingly heterosexual of him. He stopped smiling with a clear of his throat, "I should get you one of those?"
"Decaf."
Nodding, he walked down the hall, not noticing Mercedes watching him but noticing Jacob Ben Israel flinching and looking away. Woah oh ho, this was rich. He slammed him into a locker, "What was that about?"
"Y-you're dating Mercedes Jones and she's one of the most popular kids in this school. You're cool-o-meter is off the charts and everyone's scared of you again," he mumbled, avoiding forced to look into Puck's eyes.
Puck started to smile slowly—his bad boy persona was totally making a comeback, fuck yeah! As Jacob smiled back, he slammed him back into the locker, taking out his frustration with Kurt and Mercedes on him. "Did I say you could do that? Now go get my girl a frozen coffee—decaf!"
He pulled off of Jacob and pushed him away, walking in the opposite direction, relishing in the turned on looks girls gave him and the various flinches and scared expressions. But of course the best part had to be Santana giving him her sex eyes, her hips swaying in her Cheerio skirt as she walked away. Damn, her ass was fine. Like, right up there with Quinn's (and Kurt's, but he was not thinking about that).
—
When Kurt walked into the choir room the day after making out with Brittany, he immediately walked towards Puck on instinct, Puck's legs spread as he leaned back in his chair, his lap basically inviting him to sit on it. He stopped himself right in front of Puck, looking down at him with an open mouth for a split second. Puck looked up at him hopefully, but Kurt merely swallowed and nodded, moving to an open spot a few chairs away next to Brittany, his girlfriend…or something.
Brittany's head was tilted to the side in confusion during all of Santana and Mercedes' duet. She had no idea why Santana was fighting over Puck since she barely liked him. And if Puck belonged to anyone it was obviously Kurt, they were totally like star-covered lovers or whatever that phrase was. Like, she was seriously confused as to why they weren't having sex yet, but she was glad she had an opportunity to make out with him, his lips were really soft and tasted almost like a girl's. And it kept her record up because obviously she had made out with Puck and Matt and Mike so now Finn was the only guy in Glee club she hadn't made out with, besides Mr. Schue and his son and that robot, of course.
She turned to Kurt to see if he understood why Mercedes and Santana were fighting, but all she could see was a raised eyebrow, a tense jaw, and a glare at Santana as she ran her hands over Puck's chest. Seeing him so upset made her sad, like when her baby cousin cried and it made her want to cry as well. She had noticed that Kurt looked happiest when Puck held his hand, so she reached over and grabbed his hand, smiling as he turned to her in slight shock at the contact. He slowly and unsurely smiled back, his hand rather limp in hers as he tried to ignore whatever the hell was going on with the rest of the club.
—
Mercedes' mind was racing as she left school, no idea what to do about this whole Pucktana/Puckurt predicament she got herself into. Man, she really should've just listened to Quinn. Her thoughts weren't helped by the fact that as she left the school she found Puck lining up kids to be thrown in the garbage. He may not have been doing the throwing, but he definitely was the reason why they were waiting in line.
"Puck, what is this?" She asked, never having seen him bully anyone before. "Don't you just rule my sheer fear of retaliation?"
He shrugged, "With the 'hawk gone, I have to do something to improve my rep. I normally pull something like this every few months to keep my rep going."
"Really? Because I've never seen you do this before."
"Well, yeah, because it's normally just little things like pranks outside of school or something to Jacob who no one gives a damn about," Puck said like it was the most obvious fact in the world. "Kurt was always more important than my badass reputation, so he was never in the line of fire, but of course I slushied some kids and stuff, just not as often as Karofsky and Azimio and those other idiots. Normally you add the fact that I get so much action and there's no reason for me to get shit because Kurt and I are friends."
Mercedes frowned, trying to soak it all in, never having realized all the thought Puck put into his reputation and popularity. She took him away from the crowd, "Puck…you're better then this. You're better than throwing kids into dumpsters and being a bully. Aren't you tired of this?"
Puck gave her a weird look, "Of course I am." Cutting off her further ranting, he added, "Look, I'm going to be real with you, so consider yourself lucky to be let into the Puckster's head. I don't know what else to be. I live in a poor area of town and like doing bad things; this is my identity. And, well…it keeps Kurt safe. As long as I'm his friend and I have this image, no one touches Kurt past throwing him in the dumpster. And, you know, there needs to be order in this place. As stupid as it is, jocks are at the top and if freaks like Jacob try taking over…You don't have to like it but you have to accept that high school is like this."
The two stood in silence for a while after Puck's big reveal of his psychological need to be a jerk. "Does Kurt know this?"
Puck sighed, "I don't know, probably not. If he did, he'd blame himself and get pissed at me at the same time, that's just who he is. I think part of why he's upset this week is because I said some stupid things as the stress of all this shit got to me. Plus him and his dad and everything…"
"Wait, what's wrong with his dad?"
He stared at Mercedes and clapped her on the shoulder, "A best friend never reveals the other's secrets. Even when that best friend has been a horrible best friend." With that he went back to the line, his whole demeanor changing to a faux badass vibe.
—
"Hey, girl, where's your Cheerios uniform?"
"I quit the team," she said simply, still walking.
"WHAT?" Puck nearly shouted, his mind going into a panic mode. Oh God, his reputation and Santana and Kurt…fuck.
"I just felt like I wasn't me when I put that uniform on," Mercedes shrugged, turning to him. "And Glee may be lame, and I may be one of those geeks that should be at the bottom of the heap according to this school's insane hierarchy, but Glee at least tells me to be true to who I am which is something you should try sometime, Puck. You're not a bully; you're better than that, whatever your stupid image is. And Lord knows Kurt needs a reminder of that right now and that's one lesson I have no idea how to get through his head." With a nod she left him in the middle of the hallway, that coil of guilt bubbling in his stomach again.
—
"You're hands are so soft!" Brittany cooed as she gripped Kurt's hand in the halls. He seemed to like having the replacement now that Puck was all up on Mercedes and Santana didn't seem to want to link pinkies with her anymore, so she had no reason to say no to it. It was actually really nice because, again, her baby-faced friend had really soft hands.
"My secret?" He leaned in, "Duck fat." Brittany ignored that, not wanting to think of poor, fat duckies. "Hey guys, just holding hands with Brittany," Kurt said in that low voice as they walked past Tina and Artie, both of them looking like they just had the school's fish tacos. But it wasn't Wednesday...was it?
"Seriously, your hands are so soft. They're like a baby." She looked at his baby face and smiled, "Now I know what it's like to date a baby!"
Kurt gave her that look he seemed to give her whenever she spoke but was distracted when someone called out for him. They turned around and found Kurt's dad, Brittany smiling even more. They were dressed like twins or something, how cute! She smiled at Burt Hummel absent mindedly, not really paying attention to what was being said.
"Can you leave us alone beau?"
"What?" She asked, realizing Kurt was talking to her but not understanding his words.
"Just leave."
"Oh!" She let go of his hand and walked off, deciding to find Santana.
Kurt didn't watch her go; he just turned to his dad and asked, "Did you ever think that maybe that was something I wanted to do with you?"
Burt's mind slowly started putting things into place, slowly piecing together why Kurt was upset. "Look, Finn needs a buddy right now. At the game he started talking about his dad and his mom and I think it's good for him to do that. We can spend all the time together you want later, okay?" He clapped Kurt on the shoulder and headed down the hall.
As soon as he found Finn outside, however, he knew he had to talk to Kurt. He explained, "Something's up with Kurt, Finn. I think you've noticed he's been dressing weird all week?"
Finn's brow furrowed, "Uh, yeah, I've noticed, I just thought he was trying a new look or something."
"Yeah, well I'm pretty sure it's more than that. I need to talk to him, I'm sorry, we'll get hoagies some other time, alright?"
Finn looked down for a moment but nodded, "That's cool, I don't want Kurt being upset. And aren't hoagies like really bad for you anyways? Mom says you should stay away from things like that."
Burt rolled his eyes with a scoff, "Great, now Carole's got you on board of making me eat like a rabbit." He laughed with Finn and gave him a nod, "See you later, Finn."
Finn smiled, "See ya, Burt. Make sure Kurt's okay."
—
When Burt finally found Kurt, he was slightly relieved to find him in his normal clothes, singing. But this wasn't his normal singing, his normally floating, beautiful voice practically growling out the words. But if he ever doubted Kurt's talent, he was totally free of those doubts; if there was one thing Kurt could do, it was definitely performing.
When Kurt finished, Burt clapped, finally revealing himself from the shadows, much to Kurt's shock. "Dad. What happened to hoagies?"
"I took a rain check; too much cholesterol," Burt said with a smile, hoping Kurt would at least find some joy in that.
But he didn't take the bait, instead saying, "I'm sure Finn was disappointed."
"He was…until I explained that I wanted to check out on you because you were bent out of shape."
"Me? I'm fine."
"Kurt, I'm dumb, but I'm not stupid," Burt said, going closer to his son. "I don't know what your song was about, Kurt, but fine don't sing like you just sung." Kurt didn't say anything, so Burt moved so he was right in front of him, speaking quietly. "Maybe I went overboard with spending time with Finn, but I told you this thing with you was going to be hard."
"'Thing with me'? You mean being gay," he said tightly.
"Yeah. Being gay." Kurt looked closer to crying every single moment, so Burt had to react and fast, had to let him know where he was coming from. "Look, I'll fight to the death for your right to love who you love, but when you were a baby and I held you in my arms, did I dream about talking to you about girls and taking you to baseball games? Yeah, I did. A lot of fathers do."
"I had no idea how disappointing I was," Kurt said quietly, walking off towards the backstage area. No, this was not right, Kurt was going to listen to him whether he liked it or not.
"Hey, stop it right now, I'm talking to straight to you, don't go off playing the victim," Burt said in a slightly louder, stern voice he rarely used with Kurt. Kurt stopped walking, his back still turned to him. "You know that's not what I mean."
Kurt turned back to him, "I know. I'm sorry. I know you're working hard on yourself to make all of this okay. It's just seeing you, the way you are with Finn, how easy it is…it breaks my heart." He turned back around, trying to collect himself as the light bulb finally turned completely above Burt's head.
"Is that why you started dressing differently, singing Mellencamp, pretending to date that daffy cheerleader?"
"I just wanted you to know," Kurt stared, turning back to him, "I'm going to work as hard as you to make this okay. And I want Noah to know that I'll work as hard as him to make our friendship okay, to make sure he doesn't get crap anymore because we're friends."
"You don't have to work at anything, Kurt, nothing about this. Your job is to be yourself and my job is to love you no matter what. That and a majority ownership of a tire shop, that's all we got. But if we stick to that, we'll be great. And Puckerman has dealt with these small town idiots because you're worth it, Kurt. You matter to him, to me, to Mae, Sara, to your Glee Club friends, to a lot of people, Kurt. And will things be rough sometimes because how the world is and how people are? Yeah, but that doesn't make them love you any less. And it's not your job to make everyone love you."
Kurt nodded slowly, sniffing before finally whispering, "I missed you, Daddy."
"Come here," Burt said softly, pulling him in for a hug and squeezing him tightly, his heart still breaking over how broken he sounded. He was pretty sure the last time they hugged was when Kurt had just come out, and it occurred to him he really should start hugging his son more, what with his obvious need and want for physical affection. And who knew how long his and Puckerman's would stay platonic? "I love you," Burt reassured him, feeling a bit of emotion catching in his throat.
"I love you, too."
—
When Puck opened the door at his house, he didn't expect to see Kurt there. "Kurt," he said with a smile, happy to see him back in his old clothes. His smile dropped a bit, though, as he remembered why they hadn't been talking for a while.
"Noah," Kurt said, his eyes still a bit red from his talk with his dad. "Can I come in real quick?" Puck immediately nodded and stepped to the side. He closed the door and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he turned to Kurt.
"Look, Kurt—"
"Noah, we both said things that were wrong and we both did things wrong. And while I'm hurt and I hurt you, we're good enough friends that we don't really need to sit and have a heart-to-heart, right? I had a really emotional one with Dad earlier, I don't know if I can handle another one. I know I need to work on the whole being an only child that now has to share his dad's attention 24/7 because I've never had to share him, even with you. And you know that you need to stop saying things when you're angry before you can stop yourself. So we can just forget this fight and move on, right?" Kurt rushed out.
Puck watched him and slowly smiled, "What fight?" Kurt gave the smallest of laughs, pulling Puck into a hug. One day he knew they needed to sit down and work through everything, but right now he was very content to hug his best friend and feel slightly normal again.
"Oh, and never try dating 'Cedes ever again, that's just awkward," Kurt laughed.
Puck groaned and pulled away, "Kurt, she wouldn't even listen to my Super Mario theories. What's up with that?"
Kurt smiled and shook his head, "Want to tell me about the Star Worlds theory again?"
Noah broke into a huge grin, "And this is why I love you."
—
"I'm so glad you called," Puck gasped out as he pulled away from a kiss with Santana. "It's so cool that your parents are gone."
Santana smirked, "I'm just glad you've realized that you. Are. Mine," she said, leaning back over him and biting at his neck, Puck gasping and thrusting up. She gave a small, breathless chuckle and pulled back away. "You like that, don't you? Knowing that I own you?"
"Y-yeah, yeah," Puck said, not really paying attention to her words, just thrusting up, wanting some sort of contact to his hard cock.
"I want to try something," she said suddenly, getting off him and standing in front of the bed. "Strip."
Puck nodded quickly and got up, stripping out of jeans and boxers immediately. Normally he wouldn't be so desperate, but he couldn't help it; he hadn't gotten any for weeks now and was near the dying point for sex sharks.
"Sit," she ordered, smirking as he sat down immediately, licking his lips in anticipation. "I know you love watching me and Brittany and thinking about the stuff we do. Do you want to try something that Brittany and I do? Think you can handle it?" she asked in a husky whisper, her eyes daring him. Puck nodded enthusiastically; he was up for fingering and giving her some head, definitely.
She gave him a wink and got down on her knees in front of the bed, pulling out a box from underneath it. She placed a bottle of lube from it on the bed, but Puck's eyes widened and he let out an explicative of surprise and slight fear when she pulled out the other object from the box. "Is that…is that a strap on?" He asked apprehensively, suddenly feeling himself soften a bit.
"Duh," Santana rolled her eyes. "We're doing something Brittany and I do together, I thought the idea of us together made you all hot, remember?"
"Yeah, but why am I fucking you with a strap on when I have one built in?" Puck asked, afraid to hear the answer he already knew.
"You're not pegging me, I'm pegging you, you idiot," she scoffed.
Puck's heart sped up, now fully soft and not feeling at all like a bad ass. "No way."
She glared and stood up, "You are mine, Puck, and I want to remind you of that. And I know you want this. You certainly liked my fingers up there when I was blowing you last time." Puck had to admit to himself that when she found that prostate thing in him that it felt pretty damn good. "Now either you man up and take this little thing or you go and leave. Which will it be?" Santana pulled at her Cheerios top and pulled out her ponytail, her hair falling in waves onto her breasts.
Staring at her, Puck already knew his choice. He was scared and was sure he'd hate it, but he needed to get off with someone so bad, and seeing Santana's smokin' body definitely was getting him interested again, especially when she pulled off her skirt and underwear, her pussy lips already wet as she stared him down. "I'll even let you eat me out after, I know how much you love that," she practically purred, crawling onto the bed.
As she crawled on top of him, looking like a predator about to kill her prey, she whispered, "So what's it going to be?" They both knew the answer, her question was absolutely pointless, but he answered anyways.
"Yes."
She smirked again, "Good boy." Getting back off him again, she commanded, "On all fours, now." He followed the rules, barely holding back a sigh. This had better get him off.
Santana continued to smirk to herself as she popped open the lube. Puck was always so willing to do whatever she wanted. Who needed Brittany? She owned this hot guy in front of her, and nothing got her off like that, knowing that she could get Puck to do whatever she wanted. Pouring the lube onto her fingers, she ordered him to place his legs farther apart and touched his hole, circling for a while until he relaxed enough for her to push a finger in.
Puck hadn't even realized throughout the past few blowjobs she had given him that she had been slowly working on getting him to take more and more, but now it was suddenly clear to him as her finger slid in with little resistance. Damn it, that woman was one sneaky bitch. Damn her and her cunning and hot body and really fucking talented finger, goddamn that felt good. Trust Santana to know how to finger someone to oblivion. He slowly felt himself grow harder as she added a second finger, slowly scissoring him open.
Now she really found none of this that interesting, it didn't really turn her on—the part she was going to enjoy was still to come, after all—but she continued slowly fingering him, curling her fingers enough to get as close to his prostate as possible without actually touching it, something she had perfected with Brittany's G-Spot. And, much like she did to Brittany (and Brittany did to her, too, because Santana liked being dominated every once in a while, it wasn't a big deal, just something that no one besides Brittany needed to know), she ignored Puck's whines and groans for more, going at her own slow pace. Plus if she went too fast he'd be sitting funny the next day and she didn't want to hear his bitching.
Puck never felt like such a mess. He was moaning and writhing, trying to rub his hard on against the bed a few times but corrected by a slap to the back of his thigh by Santana not to do so. And when she finally touched his prostate, he saw stars for a moment. "Fuck," he groaned, pushing back against her hand. But soon he was whimpering again as she pulled her hand out, a wet noise accompanying the movement. "Fuck, Santana, don't—"
"Don't worry, you'll be fucked soon enough," she said in the low whisper, a chill running through his body as she put on the strap on, lubing it up. She leaned over his body, the tip of the strap on rubbing against his hole, teasing him. Slowly, she pushed in, thrusting a bit out and than thrusting a little bit farther in until she was fully sheathed. She stayed still for a while, letting him get used to the intrusion.
He had no idea that anal sex could feel like this. It hurt and felt really odd, but it also felt oddly pleasurable to be full and to be dominated. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like to have a real cock inside him, to feel a guy pulsing inside him, to actually let someone into him, how intimate that would have to be. Woah, was this what girls felt like when they had sex? Is this what Kurt would feel one day? If so, Kurt was a pretty lucky guy. "Please," he whispered.
"Please what?" Santana asked cruelly, circling her hips.
"Fuck, Santana, please fuck me fuck—ah!" Puck was cut off as she started fucking him with the fake cock. It was like he had no control over his voice, his throat just forming moans and groans as she thrust in and out of him. God, he would need to reassure Kurt that sex would actually feel fucking amazing for him because damn this was good. Kurt and his tight ass would totally love this. Damn it, why was he thinking about Kurt's tight ass during sex? He shook his head to try to clear it, focusing on the immense pleasure and slight burn he felt from Santana's thrusting.
Now Santana was a pretty observant person when it piqued her interest enough. And while most of the Glee Club was too obsessed with their own personal shit to notice, she had sex with the guy enough to realize he stared at Kurt's ass almost as much as she stared at hers. And while she gave it no thought past him being attracted to Lady Face, she was going to use it to her advantage, get him to come as soon as possible so she could get off from his tongue. Plus it was like the song said, a little mind fuck could be nice, and Santana liked fucking in any form possible.
So she leant over him, lowering her voice to try to sound like Kurt during the recent trying to be straight drama, "You like that…Noah?"
Puck froze at her words, Santana still thrusting. Santana never called him Noah. No one at that whole damn school called him Noah…well, except for Kurt, obviously. "Y-yeah…I do," he gasped out anyways, moving his hips again.
She reached underneath him, finding his nipple ring and twisting it, relishing in the groans he made. "I knew you'd love it, Noah. You'd never let any other guy fuck you, would you, Noah? You wouldn't let any other guy fill you up like this, huh?"
His brain didn't stopped questioning her words after that, automatically picturing exactly what she was implying: Kurt leaning over him and fucking him senseless, his full lips whispering dirty words into his ear. He really couldn't imagine any other guy dominating him like this, biting along his neck like she was doing now and moving their hips like Kurt was so good at, his voice growling like it had during that song—"Fuck, Kurt, I—" he came with a low groan and a shudder, images of Kurt's victorious smirk filling his inner eye as he fought to get his breath back.
Santana let out a low chuckle, pulling out of him and grinning more as he whined, his arms collapsing, his ass sticking out in the air. Smacking it, she said in her normal voice, "Get your head between my legs now."
Puck lifted his head, his eyes blinking sluggishly with confusion. Santana smirked at him and sat back, opening her legs. Oh yeah, that was part of the deal.
He looked at her pussy with a wolfish grin; Santana was fucking dripping. Licking his lips, he crawled over to her legs and lowered his head. He licked a fat stripe up her, her hands automatically clawing at his shaved head desperately. Yeah, it was good having game.