Kurt fiddled with his lock, twisting the combination and lifting the latch. It was lunch time already; the morning had gone by quickly. The buzz from the arrival of the new kid and the fight he had already gotten into was racing through the school like a river of drama and rumors. Kurt had spent his time reminiscing on the way too-tight jeans stretched around foreign thighs, split pink lips smirked through trickling blood, and honey brown eyes disappeared behind lust-blown pupils.
Kurt hung his bag on the hook and grabbed the sunglasses from the top shelf and perched them on top of his head. He grabbed his leather jacket and was about to slide his arms into the sleeves when the object of his recent daydreams caught his eye.
New guy was walking down the hallway. His pace significantly slowed down when he caught Kurt's eye and he didn't bother to hide the fact that he was blatantly checking out Kurt. Kurt tried to suppress the flush threatening to creep up in his cheeks at the perusal. He wasn't used to guys checking him out like this. Yes, when he went to Scandals, guys would buy him drinks and dance up on him and he knew how to tease when the situation called for it, but he was in a different mindset when he went looking for it. And the liquid courage helped. He wasn't prepared for this attention at school, especially from the admittedly gorgeous new kid.
But now, those smoldering eyes—well, eye and a half because his left eye was still swollen from the fight—were looking right at him with a calculating stare that sent a shiver down Kurt's spine. He peeled his eyes away from the retreating form of the new guy, closed his locker, and meandered down a hallway toward the cafeteria. He spotted Sheila waiting for him at her own locker and she fell into step beside him towards the lunchroom, immediately unraveling a plan about how to bend all the slides on the trombones so the marching band couldn't play.
They moved to the salad line discussing the new music that she had recommended to him. They paid with their stolen lunch money and went to the table where the other Skanks were seated.
"—and then Ms. Doosenbury walked in and saw us and sent us to Figgins' office. I was going to just ignore her but the chick started to leave so I had to go." Puck was recounting the story of how he had landed himself in detention for next week to Mike, Ronnie, and Quinn.
On the other side of the table, Mack was still fawning over the new kid. "I saw him leave the principal's office. I don't know what it is about a black eye that just gets me going, but—"
"Mack, keep it in your pants." Sam urged her.
"Yeah," Sheila agreed, "wasn't you the one to tell us he's gay anyway?"
"Doesn't mean he doesn't want to get his Mack on under the bleachers," She quipped with a shrug of her shoulders.
Sam shook his head in amused disbelief. "I think Kurt has a better chance of getting some from him than you do."
"Kurt already got some last night, didn't he?" Puck interrupted. Kurt ducked slightly and scolded the blush threatening to peek on the apples of his cheeks. "Oh come on, Hummel, you can't act like we can't tell with you waddling like a freaking penguin."
"And trying to hide the battle scars with that scarf," Sam teased.
"At least what I'm getting isn't interrupted by a middle aged geography teacher," Kurt retorted with a mockingly sympathetic grin. Puck was always way too interested in his sex life. He suspected the Skanks were also intrigued in how exactly Kurt found these willing men, but they knew better than to ask around Puck and that Kurt would tell them what he wanted to during their weekly Skank bonding nights.
"Would you let the New Guy give it to you, Kurtie?" Puck asked tauntingly, his eyebrows wagging suggestively and his piercing bouncing in tandem.
Surprisingly, Mack defended him, "Puck, you know Kurt doesn't bother with high school boys."
"And he lets older men mark him up, and brand him," Sheila teased, tugging at his scarf and revealing the red bruise.
"When are you gonna get your piercing, Kurt?" Quinn asked.
"I was actually going to wait until later this week so I could get mine when you get your eyebrow done," Kurt smiled knowingly, waiting for her to get upset.
"Kurt," She huffed, "Mack's ID is going to work. We're gonna get the stuff for this weekend so that these assholes won't have to intrude on our bonding night like they did last week and the week before."
"And I'll be there to hold your hand when that big needle is right next to your eye," Kurt innocently shrugged his shoulders, finishing off the last of his salad.
"Oh please," Quinn continued to banter playfully with her best friend, "Kurt you had tears in your eyes when you got that tattoo over Christmas break." The whole table rose to their feet and all meandered to the garbage cans to throw their trays out, Puck tripping a Mathlete along the way.
"Aw, was Kurtie scared for his first tattoo?" Mike threw an affectionate arm around Kurt's shoulders.
Kurt just rolled his eyes as they all made their way out to their spot under the bleachers for the second half of their lunch hour. Quinn, Sheila, and Ronnie took up the big couch while Puck and Mike sat on the love seat with Mack rested on the arm. Sam paced lackadaisically while Kurt took up his normal perch on the middle supporting beam of the metal grandstands. Almost all at once, they pulled out their cigarettes and flicked their lighters. Kurt's took a few tries before a pitiful flame peeked out from the tip. He made a mental note to pick up another at the gas station.
"Did you guys see Karofsky's face?" Ronnie commented conversationally.
"Yes," Mack chimed in, loving the gossip and drama of the day. "He's gonna have a pretty purple bruise on his cheek for the next week."
"That new guy seems pretty cool," Sam offered before he took a drag.
"I invited him to chill with us after school," Puck said with weak breath, letting the smoke linger in his lungs as long as possible.
"You what?" Mack asked with excitement in her eyes.
"Yeah," Puck returned casually, "I was talking to him for a bit in Figgins' office this morning. He's pretty chill."
"What did you guys talk about?" Mike asked.
.:.
"Well, we could do it in the girls' bathroom if it'll make you feel better," Puck offered. To be honest he forgot her name, but that didn't matter when he could probably get a hand job before second period. His blow job in the courtyard before the warning bell even rang was legendary at McKinley, but he wasn't going to say no to a quick handy in the bathroom. "Come on, baby, it'll be worth it."
Puck could be very persuasive. All he had to do was dip his chin so his lashes were fanned out proudly accentuating his eyes and then pout his lips just slightly. He could literally hear the girls swoon over him, and this girl was no exception. Before he knew it she was tugging him along by the sleeve of his leather jacket into the nearest girl's room.
Puck quickly had her pinned to the wall, her leg inching up his calf while his hands wandered around her body. Her hands were just reaching his belt buckle when the door squeaked and they suddenly had an audience. Their voyeur was none other than Ms. Doosenbury, the senior European Geography teacher, who had caught Puck in this exact position no less than seven times. It was safe to say she was fed up with Puck's insatiable libido.
"Puckerman, Gunderson, Figgins' office. Now." Ms. Doosenbury sighed with a finger pointed sharply towards the door. Puck was all too ready to ignore her and was already lowering his head back to the girl's neck when she dropped her leg and slipped out from beneath him. Ms. Doosenbury gave a disapproving look to Puck who swaggered out of the room, rearranging his junk in his jeans with a cocky smirk on his face.
Puck sauntered into the main office and slunk into the bench, immediately propping his feet up on the strategically placed coffee table covered in old magazines; he was sent to the principal's office quite often and knew how to make himself comfortable. Mrs. Cahill, the secretary, barely acknowledged his entry and just told him that Figgins would be a couple minutes. The girl from before was already in the Vice Principal's office. Puck rested his hands behind his head and settled further into the cushions, looking over to peer into the glass windows that partitioned the office to see it full.
He was just about to doze off for a quick nap when the door to the office swung open and a kid with a busted lip and a swelling eye emerged. His barred teeth muffled the frustrated grunt that he let out when he slumped down on the bench next to Puck. He touched a finger to the cut on his lips and swore to himself at the twinge of pain and when he pulled his finger back and saw the streak of red.
"Shit."
"That's nothing compared to your eye," Puck told him. The guy tenderly felt up the rapidly swelling flesh underneath his left eye and winced.
Puck turned to see who else was in the office and placed the faces as two of his former teammates, Azimio and Karofsky.
"Wait, you took a pounding from both of them and only came out with a busted lip and a black eye?" Puck asked incredulously.
"Not what I normally define as taking a pounding but I guess so. Bunch of pricks who can't throw a punch," New guy mumbled.
"Yeah, they're only good for tackling linebackers. They don't know anything about fighting," Puck turned back to the New Kid, eyeing his leather jacket and combat boots. He seemed cool enough. And if he could hold his own against two of the biggest guys in school, then Puck had to be impressed. He stuck out a fist, "Puck."
New Kid eyed it and quickly glanced up to meet Puck's stare before bumping Puck's fist with his own, while he returned with, "Blaine."
Maybe it was because the leather jacket and boots fit the image of Puck and his Boys.
Maybe it was because he didn't want to be on this guy's bad side.
Maybe it was because his mom made him go to Temple yesterday and guilt tripped him into feeling like a bad Jew.
Maybe it was because Mike spent all his free time with that other Asian chick in the glee club (buncha nerds).
Maybe it was because Sam spent thirty hours a week at the ladies' bar stripping as 'White Chocolate.'
Maybe he just liked to stay unpredictable.
But he didn't second guess himself when offered the New Kid—Blaine—to hang out with his boys and the Skanks after school today.
Blaine responded with a yeah maybe and then Puck was called into the Vice Principal's office.
.:.
Just as Puck finished his story, the bell rang and Kurt smudged the smoldering remains of his cigarette into the pole he was leaning on before tossing it in the direction of the garbage can. They all headed back inside, for their afternoon classes with a bit of wary excitement about the newbie joining them.