Puck got to Kurt's dad's tire store before Kurt got home. He'd skipped the rest of the school day to go to the Lima farmer's market and pick up some fresh vegetables and a few other things to make dinner. He wasn't sure if Kurt ate meat, but he'd seemed to like the salmon, so he decided it was an acceptable risk.
No one was in the office when he came in, so he rang the bell on the desk and waited, running his hand over his head. He could still feel Finn's hands stroking his hair, and he marveled at how such an action could cause him to feel calm and excited at the same time.
It seemed to Puck that all the events of today should have bothered him a lot more than they had, but all he felt was a sense of great peace, and confidence that Finn would know the right things to do. He guessed Kurt would know how to deal with the rest. He wasn't sure how he'd come to depend on Kurt so much in the past few days, but it felt… good.
Finally a short, balding man wearing a baseball cap came out. "Sorry to take so long; we're a little busy today," he said. "Can I help you?"
"I'm supposed to meet Kurt," Puck said.
The man looked him up and down, taking in his shorn head and the picnic basket. "Are you a friend from school?" he asked, guardedly.
"Yeah. Kurt's helping me with a problem," he said. Belatedly, he stuck out his hand. "I'm Noah Puckerman. They call me Puck."
"Ah, that shrewd and knavish sprite," shaking Puck's hand.
"Feared in field and town," Puck agreed. The man laughed, surprised, and Puck shrugged. "With a name like Puck, I found it was good to be prepared with a little Shakespeare," he added. "It impresses the girls."
"And friend's fathers," said the man, nodding. "I'm Burt, Kurt's dad. You guys need a place to study?"
"I think we're going to start with dinner," Puck said, holding up the basket.
Burt paused. "Ah. So, is this a…" he cleared his throat. "A date?"
"No, just a working dinner," Puck said, unperturbed.
"Okay," Burt said. "Well, Kurt's not back from school yet. You guys can use the back room, but it's not the cleanest. I'm sorry, I really need to get back to the cars. I'm short one guy today."
"You need a hand?" Puck asked.
"You know your way around an oil change?" Burt asked. Puck nodded. "That would be great. Usually Kurt helps out when he gets home, but if you guys are going to be busy, I appreciate the help now."
Burt handed Puck a set of coveralls. "That your F-150 out there?" Puck nodded again. "She looks like she's in good shape."
"She was my dad's truck," he said. "He took good care of her. She's been having some electrical problems, though. I replaced the fuse box, but the lights are still not working right."
"I can take a look at that sometime if you want to bring her in," Burt offered, and Puck smiled.
They worked for nearly an hour. Puck found Burt easy company, and he showed him more than one trick about changing oil that Puck hadn't known before. He noticed Burt kept checking the time, though, and the lines on his forehead went deeper every time he looked.
"There wasn't any Glee rehearsal today," said Puck, starting to feel worried. "Where do you think he could be?"
"Let me give him another call," Burt said. But Kurt wasn't picking up his cell, nor answering texts.
"I can drive over to school, see if he's there," Puck offered, and Burt shook his head.
"I'll go over to the house first, then try some of his usual haunts. Would you wait here, just in case he comes back? Here's my cell number." Puck put Burt's number into his phone and watched as Burt ran out to his truck and disappeared down the street.
Puck texted Finn: I'm gonna be late.
Immediately, Finn responded: RUOK?
Kurt is missing, Puck texted. You seen him?
No - I'll text Mercedes.
Let me know if you find him, sent Puck.
See u soon?
Puck felt a warmth spreading in his chest. ASAP.
It was starting to get dark outside when Puck heard the back door open. He stood and looked around the corner to see Kurt walk slowly in and look furtively around the shop. Puck thought he could see a bruise on his cheek. "Kurt," he hissed, and Kurt jumped before turning to see Puck. "Where were you?"
"Is my dad here?" Kurt said softly.
Puck shook his head. "He's out looking for you." Now he could see that the left side of Kurt's face was covered with multiple bruises. His shirt was torn and his jacket was covered with woodchips. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Can you call him and let him know I'm okay?" he said, turning away.
"Dude, you're not okay," Puck said.
"It's not so bad," Kurt said. "A few minutes with a concealer stick and I'll be good as new." Then he hissed as Puck touched his shoulder.
"Who did this to you?" Puck asked uneasily. Kurt didn't answer. "Was it Karofsky and the other jocks? I can kick their asses for you if you want."
Kurt smiled wanly. "Look, I just don't want my dad to come home and find me like this. Call him and I'll go get cleaned up."
"Okay," Puck said, not at all certain, but willing to take Kurt's lead. "I can warm up dinner."
"I'm not really very hungry," said Kurt.
"There's fois gras and cheddar corn muffins," Puck said, and was rewarded by the astonished look on Kurt's face. "I'll get it ready, and you can eat what you want, okay?"
"Thanks, Noah." Kurt gave Puck a grateful look before disappearing into the bathroom.
Burt said he would be home right away. He sounded utterly relieved. Then Puck sent a quick text to Finn to let him know Kurt had returned and to pass on the word.
When Kurt came out of the bathroom, he looked more or less himself, hair and clothes in place, bruises concealed, face only slightly flushed. He stopped when he saw the tablecloth, dishes and food spread out on the work table in the back room. "Noah? Is that – wine?" he asked.
"Just a cheap Gewurztraminer," Puck said, unscrewing the cap. "It's all I could steal on such short notice."
Kurt shot Puck a startled look, then relaxed at the teasing grin on his face. "I wouldn't put it past you," he murmured, then touched the sliced baguette (stale), the sautéed asparagus and Brussels sprouts (soggy) and the cheddar corn muffins with jalapeño butter (cold). Puck poured the wine into plastic champagne flutes. "This is incredible, Noah. Thank you."
"The fois gras isn't real – it's made humanely; the duck livers are mixed with fat. I saw a video on YouTube all about how they used to forcefeed them to make their livers huge. It's nasty. Anyway, this is still pretty good." He handed Kurt a slice of bread with the "faux gras" spread on top and a jar of boysenberry preserves.
Kurt sipped his wine and nibbled the bread, nodding approvingly. "I've heard of that. It's really lovely." He looked away. "I'm sorry I was late. Are you ready to talk?"
"Hold on, Kurt – I should be asking you the same question." Puck felt a little angry. "You can't just come in here all beat up like that and expect –"
"Noah." His quiet voice stopped Puck.
"What?"
"Think about it." He looked at Puck sideways. "A few months ago, it was you doing this to me."
"I never hit you," hissed Puck, face aflame.
"No, you never did," Kurt agreed. "But this – this is my life. I live it every day. You can't suddenly come into it and expect to change everything, not all at once."
"Why the hell not?" Puck looked intently at Kurt. "Look at me. I've had so many revelations in the past week, I should be a book of the Torah. How hasn't my life changed, all at once? And you've been part of that. Why can't it be the same for you? Why can't I do something to make up for everything that has happened to you?"
Kurt was silent, eyes troubled.
"You didn't expect it, did you?" Puck's voice was soft. "You thought you could do this to me, and not get changed yourself. I don't think it works that way."
"Do… do what to you?" Kurt said.
"Kurt, I'm different. I'm better. Finn – and you – you did this." Puck laughed ruefully. "Plus, it looks like I'm kind of gay."
Kurt choked, one hand to his mouth, but his eyes were alight and he did not look away from Puck.
The front door rattled, and Puck hid the wine before Burt came in. "Kurt!"
"We're back here, dad," called Kurt, standing. His dad burst into the room and swept Kurt into a hug.
"Are you okay?" He held him at arm's length and looked at him carefully. "Kurt, we didn't know where you were. I was really worried when you didn't return my calls."
"I'm okay," Kurt said.
"What happened?"
Kurt didn't look at Puck. "I locked my phone and my keys inside the car. It took a while for me to find someone who could help me open it up."
"Jesus, Kurt, how many times have I told you to make an extra key and keep it in that magnet thing under the front door?" Burt stopped and glanced around, noticing the dinner laid out for the first time. "Gee, this is the nicest working dinner I've ever seen," he said, giving Puck a perplexed look.
"I like to cook," he said.
"Well… thanks for keeping an eye on things while I was out looking for this fella." Burt put a hand on the shoulder Puck had touched earlier. Kurt winced, but Burt didn't notice. "And thanks for helping out with the store earlier, Puck. You did pretty good. You'd better watch out, or I might offer you a job."
Kurt cleared his throat. "Uh, dad, Puck and I have… work to do."
"Nice to meet you, Burt," said Puck. Burt left them alone, but Puck noticed he didn't close the door.
Kurt sighed, set the wine back on the table, and gestured at the seat across from him. "Come on. Let's eat something, then we'll talk."
They didn't say anything for a few minutes, making short work of Puck's food, which, even cold, was delicious. Kurt ate some of everything and looked more himself when dinner was over.
"So… tell me what happened today." Puck's face lit up involuntarily. Kurt smiled back. "Come on. Details are like crack to me."
"I… told him. I told him… almost everything. About me and Quinn, and about me and… him. And he… well, at first he freaked out, and tried to run, but then he stopped – and he stayed." He closed his eyes, caught in the memory of that moment, held in Finn's arms.
"Magical," said Kurt, smiling. Then he cocked an eyebrow. "Almost everything?"
"I… didn't tell him about the baby."
Kurt stared. "You didn't."
"No. He didn't ask, and I was too busy, um… being emotional."
Kurt drained his glass of wine and set it on the table. "Kind of a crucial detail, Noah, don't you think!" he yelled.
"Yes," Puck groaned. "Shit. I know."
Kurt reached out and grabbed Puck's hands. "You owe this to him. He deserves your honesty. You have to tell him this last thing."
Puck now looked miserable. "… Yes."
"Do it now. Before it gets too easy to lie to him again. When will you see him?"
"I'm going over there now."
"Good. You don't want to hurt him, but this is better. Get it over with. Didn't he forgive you for everything else?"
"Yes," he whispered.
Kurt stood up, gathering dishes and napkins and folding them back into the picnic basket. "Well, then, he'll forgive you this. It'll be okay. Think of what you did today. It'll be one awful moment in exchange for the truth. That's better for both of you." He reached up and held Puck by the shoulders, looking into his face. "You can do this."
"You know, you're kind of a hypocrite," said Puck.
"W – what?" Kurt stammered.
"You tell me how important it is to tell the truth, but you just lied to your dad. I'm guessing it's not the first time you've ever done that. I bet you feel about as good about it as I feel about lying to Finn."
Kurt looked at the floor. When he looked up, there were tears in his eyes. "You're right," he said. "I don't want to hurt him… but lying is worse."
"So are you going to tell him?"
"Uh…"
"Tonight," pressed Puck.
Kurt nodded, once, twice.
Puck crushed Kurt in a sudden hug. When he let him go, Kurt looked stunned and breathless.
"Call me later if you get freaked out," Kurt said.
"Okay. And - I left dessert in the fridge, if you get freaked out," Puck grinned. "Chocolate amaretto mousse."
Kurt groaned. "Oh, Noah, you definitely know the way to a man's heart."
He raised an eyebrow wickedly. "It's one of three, anyway."