A/N: I had half the chapter done for awhile but I couldn't find time to finish it since I had some end-of-term stuff going on. And then an exam on English language, for an English certificate *cringe*. The written part was like this morning so for some reason I'm still incredibly uneasy with writing actually AMUSING stuff. I beg to be very much excused for the lamenes of this chapter. I need my head back still, and if I didn't feel so awkward, I would've probably made this even longer. Yeah... But I just can't keep you guys waiting anymore. I'll do my best to make it up to you with the next chapter, alright? In the meanwhile, keep me as happy as you did so far. :) You're so amazing, I can't thank you guys enough for the support!

Town of Hummelville

Chapter 5

The next morning Kurt woke up with a great deal of difficulty, his stomach uncomfortably empty, somehow compressed even, almost like it was plastered to the inside of his back. His whole body felt kind of odd, detached from the currently sluggish functioning of his brain, all his muscles lax, limp and motionless, as if he was trying to 'unfold' himself after spending hours in a tiny box. There was a horrible taste on his tongue, a bitter disgusting tinge that had deposited thickly all around the walls of his mouth and as he smacked his dry lips together, the memories of the previous night as well as the renewed desire to vomit came rushing back to him.

Groaning pitifully, Kurt dared to try and sit up, his head instantly protesting as the blood banged mercilessly against his temples. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table and after several seconds of trying to decipher the faintly glowing code of four numbers, it finally occurred to him that it was almost 10.05am. Tearing his tired eyes away from the figures, he let his gaze glide across the room, the stagnant wheels in his brain slowly cracking into operation. He needed breakfast, that's what he needed, and his meds, some more rest and maybe a little bit of… The thought trailed away, almost as if a giant hand had just snatched it away, leaving a completely different sequence of facts and questions behind. His room was quiet, painfully quiet actually, which was supposed to be perfectly natural considering the fact that his dad, Carole and Finn were all away. But it hadn't been like that last night, had it? Last night Puck had been here, he had taken care of Kurt in the boy's worst moment, he hadn't run off in disgust or left him all by himself - quite the opposite actually… Oh, Sweet Dolche! Despite the still quite outstanding tardiness that his whole body was demonstrating, the blush splashed across the countertenor's face like shock of beet red paint, way too fast and way too powerful for his liking. He carried me to my bed? Puck, the infamous McKinley bully, one of the many, many male individuals in the school who had countless times voiced their fears of 'catching the gay' from Kurt, had voluntarily and completely violent-lessly ventured to touch him. And not run away screaming afterwards…

"Oh, you're awake." Came the slightly surprised, yet definitely not unfriendly statement from somewhere to the side and Kurt snapped his head in the direction, regretting the action instantly as it made his head throb viciously once again. He assumed he had made quite a sour grimace, as Puck's mirthful laughter bounced around the room, getting nearer as the jock climbed down the basement's staircase with a cup of streaming coffee in his hands.

"How are you feeling, Princess?"

"Like I've just been given synthetic clothing for my birthday." Kurt downright whined, the perspective of such an obvious umbrage making every cell in his body shudder with disgust. Synthetics! Quickly liberating himself from the abhorrent thought, he straightened his back and reached to smooth his currently impossible hair with as much dignity as his grumpy red eyes, twisting stomach and exterminating headache would allow. "So, am I to assume that you've stayed here all night?"

"Your couch and I became very close." Puck sniggered as he approached the bed and gingerly sat down on its edge. For a couple of seconds there was nothing other than an impartial 'hm', then Kurt's eyes widened considerably, the possible meaning of the statement finally registering in his brain and he pulled back with a repulsed face, hands flying in a frantic attempt to simultaneously cover his eyes and ears.

"EEWW, Puckerman! Ew, ew, ew!"

"If you ask real nice, I might even tell you which couch it was, so you can burn it." the jock suggested benevolently, a sly smirk twisting his lips as he watched the smaller boy screw his eyes shut and squeak a little. "By the time you've healed, you'll have run out of couches."

"Sweet Dolche, Puck, please tell me you didn't do anything funny with my designer-"

"I didn't, okay? Relax, it's not good for you to get all worked up over such petty stuff before breakfast." Noah couldn't resist yet another chuckle when Kurt visibly slumped against the headboard, one hand pressing against his chest as he mouthed a very passionate thankful prayer to… Lady Gaga? "I swear, dude, you're worse than a chick."

The countertenor's eyes immediately narrowed at the address.

"Don't call me dude! And if being worse than a girl means shielding my furniture from violation, than yes, I am proud to accept that accusation."

Raising one hand in surrender, the jock lifted the cup to his lips and took a very long, very loud sip that had the smaller male cringing.

"Anyway, since you're up, I guess that means you need to be fed…" the jock drawled thoughtfully, swishing the dark liquid around in its porcelain confines, much to Kurt's horror ( because, by all means, those were some perilous actions to perform over the countertenor's designer bed sheets). "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt whipped the blanket away from his legs and made a move to stand up, a small grumble already forming on his lips as the possibilities of a healthy food combination all flashed before his eyes.

"It's fine, I'll just get some fruit and-" his tirade was cut off mid-sentence as the jock's hand landed on his shoulder, making him slump back a little and successfully ceasing all movements. Eyeing the taller student with confusion, Kurt merely raised an inquisitive brow as the pressure over his body increased just enough to keep him from standing up.

"No getting up." Puck ordered firmly, his index finger around the cup now sticking out to point at the countertenor almost threateningly. "You are to stay in bed, Princess, or else!" he paused, scowling with some strain as he mused over what could be horrifying enough for the smaller singer, than finished proudly. "Your furniture'll suffer the consequences!"

"Really, Puckerman? That's the best you could do?" came the incredulous retort and the jock well-neigh pouted as he swallowed the rest of the coffee in three large gulps and handed the now empty cup to the smaller male.

"You wait here, I'll go make you a cheese sandwich." He declared with a huff and jumped on his feet, his lips stretching into an amused smirk when Kurt opened his mouth to try and protest. "And no fruits. Fruits will irritated your stomach."

Puck didn't understand why a kitchen needed to have every single jar, vessel and cooking book meticulously put away in cupboards just to leave vast spaces of nothingness. It definitely didn't seem very sensible and it made things that much harder because if people just left the pans, the chopping boards and the ladles on top, then it'd be a hell easier to find what you needed. That's what Noah did at his own home and he was proud to say that despite the fact that the piles of dishes and other utensils weren't very stable, if one learned how to maneuver safely between them, there was nothing to worry about.

After several minutes of thorough search, he finally pulled the needed ingredients and started preparing the sandwich, his mind quickly going through what he knew about this sort of illnesses. Dehydration was the biggest problem that could occur and as far as he could recall, his Nana solved that by making the patient drink small portions of overly sweet tea. The sugar kept the water from leaving the person's system too quickly and if consumed in tiny sips, the chances of the body rejecting the mixture were much smaller. Same went with the food. Almost everything that hadn't endured heat treatment was irritating for the stomach, especially fruits and vegetables with thick rinds, so grilled cheese sandwich was probably the best option for now. Besides, it was important that Kurt ate at least a little bit, not only because he needed his fairy strength, but also because swallowing pills without having had absolutely anything didn't sound like a very good idea.

Pleased with all those conclusions, Puck put the now finished sandwich in the grill and proceeded to prepare the tea by simultaneously producing a creative mess – the best atmosphere for any talented chef. A couple of dishes here, several spoons throws there and – voila – la perfection! A few more days in this house and the place was actually going to start looking like it was inhabited. By cavemen, true, but inhabited nonetheless and what could compare with the wonder of life?

"Puck, what do you think you're doing?" the jock froze dead in his endeavors of taking another bite from a six inched wheel cheese and turned to face the countertenor who was currently standing a couple of meters away, half-stooped and leaning against the kitchen's doorframe. His pale face looked a bit grayish from what the taller student suspected, were the efforts of climbing the staircase, his left arm wrapped around his middle in some possible attempt to keep his stomach in his body, yet with all those troubles hindering him, the slightly bitchy look was still in place, along with something in the depths of those orbs that the Jew couldn't quite put his finger on.

"N'thing…" he managed with a full mouth as he carefully put the cheese on the microwave behind him. Damn, his plans for a P-shaped cheese chunk were now ruined! "Didn't I tell you not to get out of bed?"

"Your phone was ringing." Kurt replied, his slightly irritated look faltering as he stretched his hand with the now silent mobile forward. His brows furrowed a little, forming an anxious expression as he chewed down on his lower lip, eyes tentatively avoiding Noah's "I swear, I wasn't planning to look, but then-…"

"It's Karofski." Puck cut him off with a light grin as he snatched the phone away from the countertenor's palm, completely missing the look of agitation that crossed the smaller student's features. Good to hear from a fellow footballer. Mindless of the boy behind him, the jock walked towards the grill and turned it off as he concurrently went through his latest calls and picked out Dave's number.

"Yeah… That's what I meant… Karofski…" Kurt's voice trailed off equivocally but Puck didn't notice, already clicking the 'call' button as he held the cell to his ear. The familiar signal for the free line managed to sound only once before being replaced by a thick, growl-like baritone from the other end of the line.

"Puckerman." the address sounded like the slurred bark of a fat, drooling dog and mingled with the familiar obtuse laughter of David's sidekick Azimio, it almost successfully muffled the distant roar of a car engine. "Didn't see you at the party last night."

Puck paused in his efforts of putting the now grilled sandwich on a plate (the mobile phone still balancing under his chin) and his brows furrowed a little as he tried to recall whether he had been invited to the said party. If the answer was no, surely somebody was bound to suffer the consequences. Yet that suspicion fell out almost instantly, replaced by the image of a sultry senior girl, batting her lashes at the same time she stuffed an invitation in his pants, and Noah's mouth formed an 'o'. Riiight, now I remember… The jock shrugged nonchalantly at his elusive memory, realizing belatedly that such actions were inadvisable in his current predicament as the mobile slipped from his shoulder and nearly fell in Kurt's meal, only to be saved by Puck's amazing, ninja-like reflexes.

"I was kind of busy." He managed, leaving the plate on the counter for now as he turned around to look at the countertenor, his brown eyes narrowing a little when they fell upon the smaller student's face. Kurt was still leaning against the door, this time his back along with his arms pressed against the smooth wooden surface of the frame, yet his whole form was somehow slouched, blue orbs fixed wryly on some spot on the floor. The unusual sickeningly gray nuance hadn't dripped off the customarily porcelain like cheeks and the fact left Puck feeling peculiarly apprehensive. Letting out an almost imperceptible sigh, the jock quickly crossed the distance between himself and the smaller Gleek, an involuntarily soothing smile breaking on his lips as he noticed the other one's eyes level him with a certain amount of curios disbelief.

"Hope the chick was worth it, man, you've got no idea how crazy it was last night!"

Puck realized he was coming late with the answer, but for some reason he failed to care, too busy wrapping an arm around the smaller male's shoulders as he mouthed a small "Let's go." and proceeded to usher the still strangely disheartened Kurt towards the staircase.

"Oh, she was worth it, alright." The jock finally answered in the mobile phone, giving the sick boy next to him a conspiratorial wink, the answer to which was just a very timid smile before the pair of bluish pools were looking away once more.

"Anyhow, the party ended like an hour ago, so Azimio and I were driving home, when an idea popped up-"

"Well, there's got to be a first time for everything." Kurt mumbled almost imperceptibly as the words trickled from the mobile into the open space loud enough to be heard, the cheeky comment making the taller male snicker.

"-and you know what we haven't done in awhile? Fucked with our favourite Fairy's house. You think two cartons of eggs would be enough?."

"What?" The soft, yet persistent exclamation had left Puck's lips before he could stop himself, the words affecting the sick student beside him with equal force as Kurt froze dead on his spot, eyes wide and mouth slowly, sluggishly falling slightly open. Quickly collecting himself from the sight of the small body visibly shrinking beside him, Noah cleared his throat and added in the speaker with as much authority as he could. "Are two out of your mind? It's broad daylight – you think no one's going to see a couple of idiots drive-throwing eggs at a house?"

Instead of a hesitant pause or any other sign that could indicate that the duo were thinking over the said words, a mix of rough sniggers exploded from the mobile phone, making a nuance of a surprisingly unpleasant emotion trickle inside Puck's throat like bitter poison.

"Like someone's gonna really do anything for the fag. The chances are whoever sees us is gonna join in." came Azimio's cocky snort, followed by another portion of idiotic laughter. "You know how it is, Puck… 's not the first time we're doing anything like this. Plus, it would be an awesome ending of the last night's party. Are you fucking in or not?"

The flinch was so tiny that the jock nearly missed it. With the corner of his eye he saw Kurt's small hand fly to his mouth and he screwed his blue eyes shut for a moment, breath hitching audibly in… what?... Disbelief? Hurt? Shock?

"Shit, Princess-" Puck muttered as he saw Kurt's free arm find its way around his waist, clutching it in a protective manner and before he knew it, the boy was trying to wring himself free from the suddenly quite tight hold that Noah had on his shoulders. Torn between the phone and the struggling Gleek, the jock was desperately mouthing the smaller one's name and yet all that the countertenor could think of, all he could fathom was the pressing need to run to his room and scream in his pillow in the suffocating mix of frustration and misery. Whether it was because he was sick and for that reason particularly overemotional, or because he had just finally had enough of it all, today the imminent bullying, and those painfully true words, just seemed too much even for him to swallow. When is this going to end? Surely, they had noticed his absence yesterday – that was exactly what this was all about. Proving a point. They wanted to prove a fucking point… Show him that there was no day off for the resident queer kid, that he could not escape his daily dose of humiliation, whether because it was Saturday morning or because he had come down with a sickness… His biggest fault was still available. He was still guilty for who he was and for not keeping it to himself.

And, as different as the situation might've seemed last night and till now, Puck was still one of them.

Biting back a dry sob, Kurt finally yanked himself free from the taller student's grip, only to manage one faltering step before the tan hand wrapped around his wrist to hold him in place. Turning around to face the jock, he shook his head frantically, the anger bubbling up his throat as he mouthed his demand to be released, completely ignoring the familiar stinging at the corners of his eyes. He could feel the long fingers clasped around his forearm and he knew for sure he couldn't break this grasp, but it did bring him a certain amount of personal satisfaction to put the other one in an awkward position by tugging and twisting as hard as he could.

"Shit, you're stronger than you let on…" came a grumpy whisper but Kurt just glared his bitchiest diva glare, daring the other one to release him.

"Yo, Puckerman? Where'd you go man?" came the muffled queries from the mobile phone and the jock cursed silently, torn between trying to keep Hummel from locking himself in his room for life and making a sensible conversation. Letting out a weary sigh, Puck pulled the smaller male harshly, meeting the surprised yelp with a smirk as he maneuvered them both till Kurt was securely pressed with his back against the wall, trapped under the Jew's larger and stronger body.

"What, for Gaga's sake, do you think you're doing?" the ill Gleek hissed and Puck almost chuckled at the revelation that this was the exact same thing the smaller one had asked him upon finding him in the kitchen with his teeth sinking in the wheel cheese. Only the situation now was, as the footballer suddenly realized, much more interesting...

"If you've ever watched a gay version of one of those doctor-patient-inspired porn movies, you are probably starting to feel the similarities here." The jock suggested, wriggling his brows a little even if the image of Noah as a caring doctor didn't seem to amuse the other one in the slightest bit (not that he had expected anything else from Queen Prudish…) as Puck merely received a small swat on his shoulder for the effort. "Okay, you can be the nurse." He agreed stintlessly, the pain just next to his collar-bone barely registering as the small vexed groan that the ever-so-composed Kurt Hummel made him feel extremely smug and clever for poking in the right spot. Another swat – this one considerably harder – landed on his body along with a demolishing glare that had him chuckling complacently. "Mmm, didn't know Princess liked it rough."

"Don't go there, Puck!" came a low hiss, Kurt's body visibly beginning to shake as he tried to keep his head bowed in what Noah assumed was an attempt to conceive one of those girly blushes. "Don't. Go. There. Or, I swear on my shoe collection, I will snip your balls off with a nail clipper!"

Pretty image. It was ridiculous how amused the jock felt in this particular situation. This was definitely annoying Kurt – the uncomfortable closeness, the sex jokes – and seeing as Hummel was always so peculiarly hard to irritate for real, Puckerman, much like the immature meat-head he was, felt the nagging need to go further. Ignoring the increasing volume of the yells that came from the mobile phone along with the slightly deterred resistance Kurt was putting up, he pressed his body a bit tighter to the smaller, thinner one.

"This isn't funny, Puck! Back offl! Back off, I'm warning you-" the tirade was interrupted by a low, half-restrained sob and Puck's smirk immediately melted off his face, replaced by a certain tinge of anxiety as he looked more closely at Kurt's face. Whether because of the little amount of juvenile entertainment he had been drawing from the absurdity of the situation, or because in his mind anger was so very much impossible to mix with tears, Noah was more than shocked when he spotted the faint wet stains that were making their ways down the boy's quite remarkably bitchy-looking face.

"Are you crying?" the jock whispered, regret marring his words as he hurried to step back. He wasn't sure why he felt so terribly uneasy all of a sudden, or why no signs of inclination for any sort of teasing were popping into his head, but the facts were present. Suddenly, it didn't matter if Kurt was a boy, or a girl, straight or gay, all it mattered was that he was sick, understandably touchy and a bunch of bullies, himself included, were trying to fuck with him.

"Something got in my eye." came a low snap, mixed with a hue of a dry, humourless laughter, probably because this ought to be the lamest excuse in the book.

"Kurt," Puck mumbled, shaking his head as he took another step back, his previous behavior suddenly seeming incredibly, incredibly stupid. He swallowed, anxiety starting to seep in every muscle in his system as he tried to force the stinging words out of his mind for a second time in what appeared to be unhealthily short amount of time. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's not you, you idiot!" the boy nearly barked, wiping angrily at his wet cheeks, the 'something in my eye' excuse obviously already forgotten. "I just don't- I don't want to be here when you say 'yes'."

When no answer came and the jock merely lowered his eyes for a moment, Kurt let out a small, staggering sigh and tried to straighten himself up. The voices on the other end of the line were probably becoming quite irritated by now, but the countertenor couldn't even bring himself to be worried if they had heard him. Taking one last inhale, he tried to make his way past the taller male, only to be stopped by a large tanned hand that wrapped around his arm lightly.

"I won't say 'yes'."

"Do what you have to do, Puck." Kurt answered softly, his voice meeker than he would've liked it to be. "I understand. This situation is hard for you. You have to go along with it, if you don't want to end up like me. I get it." he paused. "And I wouldn't wish this," he glanced down at himself with a wavering smile "to anyone."

A long, peculiarly heavy moment hung between them and then Puck's eyes lifted to meet the boy's slightly resigned gaze.

"This is really hard on you, isn't it? It is getting to you."

Kurt closed his eyes slowly, shaking his arm out of the other one's grasp.

"You're keeping your friends waiting, Puck."

And with that, he made his way down the staircase.

A/N: I'll really try to make the next chapter better! Did this one seem forced? It felt a little bit like that. *groans*