"If it's cool. I wanted to uh - to read something. You know, share it with the group."
That same stupid look of shock echoed across the room as loud as a cannon blast despite being silent, sweeping, and very real.
Dr. Schuester cleared his throat. It was obvious the quack was more than a little hesitant.
"Um. Sure, Noah. Please, do."
"Um, alright. I wrote something. Last night. I couldn't sleep again and my mind just wouldn't stop fuckin' buzzin'. It's not really a poem or anything. It's more like, just shit that was buzzin' in my head."
Puck looks up at Dr. Schuester who nods encouragingly. Puck clears his throat and begins reading.
"It's crazy feeling stuck. Like wearing cement shoes, wading in a creek that keeps rising, getting deeper as it swallows you up. I hate it. That feeling. I hate sitting, or being still. Not doing, not being. It reminds me of when I was a kid. I never understood a lot of things around me. The liquor smell, the blood stains, the constant hurt. But I was stuck in it. Stuck. So I adapted, fought, swam as hard as I could to try to get upstream. But all I did was end up in the same place, unchanged. I wasn't supposed to be better, just invited to be worse. Expected to be worse. Easy enough."
"Wow. Noah, that was really well done."
"I didn't do it to be good. I just, I was bored so..."
"Fair enough," Dr. Schuester says, his smile genuine.
Puck can't help it when his eyes travel across the room and find themselves swimming in blue.
Kurt shoots him a smile. It's new, something he hasn't seen before. Not seductive or mocking, or any of the other one's Puck has noted thus far. It's warm, tentative. It literally envelopes Puck.
Puck stays silent the rest of the group session. Solemn, lost in his own thoughts. Mostly though, he's day dreaming about that smile.
"How did you manage that?"
The voice is silky, wrapping around him like a wool scarf, warm and perfect against harsh winds.
Puck looks up briefly, catching the thin finger pointing at the cigarette gracing his fingertips.
"I'm cool with one of the orderlies. He cuts me a break every now and again. Let's me indulge."
Puck blows out the smoke carefully. He keeps his eyes trained ahead of him, overlooking the vast assortment of forrest in the distance beckoning to him.
"Hm. Guess it pays to be an asshole sometimes."
"Guess so. What do you want anyway?"
Kurt leans against the wall next to Puck, his eyes also searching the distance.
"I was looking for you. I wanted to tell you something."
"Can't imagine what that would be Lady," more smoke curls from his lips.
He turns to face the surly teen who remains facing forward.
"What you wrote. It was... It was touching."
Puckerman actually snorts at that. "Touching? Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Look Fancy, the last thing I need is some fudge packer goin' out of his way to give me shit, alright?"
The smaller boy falls silent; solemn as his eyes trace over the other boy warily.
"You think I came to make fun of you?"
"Fuck should I know?"
"Well, I didn't. I meant it. I didn't know you could be so... poetic. It's a nice change from the usual bullying prick I get the privilege of interacting with everyday."
"Yeah, well. Whatever. I told you I was bored. Sometimes I write to pass the time."
"And sometimes I play with shitty dollar store beads and make bracelets."
"And sing."
Shit.
"What? What do you mean?"
Puck could just play it off. Say something crass about fags being predisposed to belt cause of their overused throat muscles.
He decided on honesty. He wasn't entirely sure why either.
"I heard you. The other night. With that girl."
Kurt's face reddened, the blush seeping over his cheeks.
"Speaking of stalking..."
"What are you shittin' me? I had to go to the bathroom."
"Not that there's like ten other bathrooms closer to the dorms -"
"You're such a fuckin'..." Puck loses his words. His agitation was starting to feel a little like defeat.
"A fucking what? A pole hopper? Cum bucket? What? What colorful name do you have picked out for me today?"
The cigarette was being crushed between his thin lips, an intense air building between them as they stared at each other unfailingly.
"You're... A really good singer. Your voice, I've never heard anything like it. See you around Lady."
Puck flicked the cigarette butt through the chainlink fence and retreated back toward the building. Kurt watched him in silence, a subtle quirk of his soft lips inexplicably making an appearance.