The Sabbath

"You should invite Kurt for Shabbos dinner."

Puck was reaching into the fridge to grab a coke. He turned so fast he almost got whiplash. "What?"

"Close the fridge, Noah"

Puck pushed the fridge door closed. "What?"

Mrs. P. wiped her hands on a dish towel. "You heard me. You should invite Kurt for dinner."

"Ma, we're not getting married. We're just dating."

"Married, who said married? He's your boyfriend, he should come for dinner."

Puck cracked open the coke can and took a sip. "I don't know, Ma. Kurt has dinner with his family on Friday nights."

"I thought you said he wasn't Jewish."

Puck shrugged. "He's not." Puck was pretty sure that the Hummels were of German descent, but there was no way he was telling his mother that. "Kurt's mother started the tradition of Friday night dinners and they still do it."

"So maybe his mother was Jewish?" Mrs. P. wasn't a bigot, God Forbid, but she would be more comfortable if her son's boyfriend was even a little bit Jewish.

"I don't know, Ma. Kurt's mom died when he was just a kid."

"Ochh! Poor boy, such a shame." Mrs. P. shook her head. "So, invite the whole family for Shabbos dinner."

Puck almost choked. "Ma! No way! We're not getting engaged, I'm not inviting all of Kurt's family."

Mrs. P. shrugged. "So, just invite Kurt."

Puck tossed his coke can into the recycling bin. "O.K. Fine, I'll ask Kurt to dinner this Friday."

Mrs. P. started to unpack the dishwasher. "Good. He's your boyfriend. He should be here."

Puck sat back against the headboard of his bed, texting Kurt.

"What are you doing Friday night?"

"Nothing, why?"

"My mom wants you to come to dinner."

Puck jumped in surprise when his phone's ring tone pealed out. Kurt's picture flashed on his screen. He hit talk.

"Say that again."

Puck sighed. "My mother told me to ask you to come for dinner Friday night."

"Really?" Kurt was surprised, he knew Mrs. P. wanted Puck to date someone Jewish.

"Yeah, she said that my boyfriend should be here for Shabbos."

"Awww, that's sweet!"

Puck rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you're not going to think it's so sweet when she starts grilling you about your family, your grades at school, your plans for college, and your political affiliations." Puck groaned. "I'm warning you, the only way to survive a Shabbos dinner is to keep filling up your wine glass. Its god awful kosher wine, but it helps."

"I'm sure it won't be that bad, Noah."

Puck laughed. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Kurt tracked Rachel down at her locker at school the next day.

"Rachel, I'm going to Noah's for dinner Friday night. What should I bring?"

Rachel clapped her hands and squealed. "Oh! Kurt! You're going to Puck's for Shabbos?"

"Yeah." Kurt tilted his head to the side, looking askance at the Streisand clone. "Why are you so excited about it?"

Rachel clasped Kurt's hands in her own. "Kurt, Puck asked you to Shabbos dinner!"

"Yes." Kurt pulled his hands away. "So?"

"Kurt, getting invited to Shabbos dinner is a big deal. It means that you're important to Puck and so you're important to his family."

"O.K. Stop, you're freaking me out here."

"No, No, it'll be fine. I'm just happy for you."

"Rachel! Focus." Kurt waved his hand in front of the brunette's face. "What should I bring?"

"Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Flowers are always good. Chocolates, or wine but they should probably be Kosher. Nuts, dried fruit."

"Thanks." Kurt turned to walk away but stopped. "Rachel, how come Finn's never been to your house for Friday night dinner?"

Rachel stepped close to Kurt and lowered her voice. "My dads have asked but I've been putting it off. You know, how nervous Finn gets at these meet the family things, plus the last time he had dinner at a girlfriend's house was when he told Quinn's parents that she was pregnant with his child." Kurt winced. Rachel nodded. "Exactly! So, I think I'm going to wait awhile on the whole Shabbos dinner thing."

Kurt parked in the Puckerman's driveway, checked his hair in the rear view mirror, and then grabbed the flowers and wine from the passenger seat. Puck must have been watching for Kurt because he opened the front door before Kurt could ring the bell.

"Are those for me?" Puck grinned, pointing to the flowers.

"No. This is for you." Kurt leaned in and kissed his boyfriend. Puck wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist. "Even better."

"Kurt and Noah sitting in a tree. K.I.S.S.I.N.G." Puck's younger sister sang out. "Ma! Kurt's here!" She stuck her tongue out at Puck and dashed away.

Puck rolled his eyes at Kurt. "This is your last chance to save yourself."

"I survived Sue Sylvester, when I was a Cheerio. I think I can survive a few hours with your family."

"Oh, Kurt! They're lovely! You didn't have to. Tamara, find a vase for the flowers. Noah, put the wine on the table." Mrs. P. started towards the kitchen. "Dinner's ready, boys. Take a seat."

Kurt stood up from the table when Mrs. P. came into dining room carrying a soup tureen. Kurt helped her set the tureen down on the table and then helped her with her chair. "Thank you, Kurt. Such nice manners!"

Puck mouthed, "Suck Up." Kurt glared at his boyfriend.

"Tamara, make the blessing over the bread." Puck's sister sang a Hebrew blessing and cut slices of Challah for everyone.

"Noah, the wine please." Puck sang the blessing for wine and then poured small glasses for them all. Kurt smiled; he always knew there was more to Puck than 'The McKinley Badass' he pretended to be at school.

Mrs. P. held the soup ladle over Kurt's bowl. "Kurt, one matzo ball or two?"

They were finished the soup course and into the roasted chicken when Mrs. P. smiled at Kurt. "So, Kurt, which schools are you applying to?"

Kurt used his napkin before he spoke. "The New York Academy for Dramatic Arts."

Mrs. P. nodded. "New York. So, you know what you want to do?"

Kurt smiled. "I know what I'm going to try to do."

Puck's mother shrugged. "That's all anyone can ask, that you try." She stared at her son. "That's all anyone can do, try. Maybe you can talk to my son. He hasn't applied anywhere yet."

"Ma!"

"Noah's very smart, Mrs. Puckerman. I'm sure he can get in to any school he wants."

Mrs. P. patted Kurt's hand. "You know and I know but does Noah know that he's smart?" Kurt blinked. He hadn't even considered that. Was Noah's mother right? Did Puck think he wasn't good enough for college?

"Ma, I still have another month before the application deadline."

Kurt stared at his boyfriend. He'd been so upset about his own application to N.Y.A.D.A. that he hadn't noticed that Noah never talked about schools. "Don't worry, Mrs. P. I'll make sure Noah gets the applications in on time." Kurt turned determined eyes on Noah, and Puck groaned.

Much to Mrs. P.'s surprise and delight and Puck's annoyance, Kurt volunteered Puck and himself for kitchen duty. "Mrs. Puckerman, you've already done enough. Let us clean up."

"You don't have to do this, Kurt. You're my guest."

"I do this at home all the time, it won't take long. You deserve a break." Kurt ushered Mrs. P. out of the kitchen and to Puck's shock, she actually went.

Puck wrapped left-overs and put them in the fridge. Kurt stacked the dishwasher. All the while, the boys argued about Puck's school applications. "What do you mean? You don't know what you want to do? What's that got to do with it? Most people have no idea when they start college where they're going to end up. Just pick a school. Once you get in, you can switch around until you find something you like."

"Kurt, I don't even know if I want to go to college."

"Do you want to get out of Lima?"

"Yes"

"Then you're going to college."

"Babe, I'm not like you. I don't have some incredible talent to chase into a career. I have no idea what I want to do."

"Doesn't matter." Kurt finished wiping the counters, and stalked over to his boyfriend. "Noah Puckerman, pick 3 schools. I don't care which ones. You're going to have 3 applications ready for next Friday. I'll help you with the essays."

Puck's mother put her hand over her mouth to keep from cheering Kurt on. God, she was really starting to like this kid. She had been going to tell the boys that she and Tamara were going to her sister's but she stopped outside the kitchen door when she heard them arguing about school. Now, she was eavesdropping shamelessly.

"I'm not kidding, Noah."

"Since when do you tell me what to do, Hummel?"

Even from where she was standing, Mrs. P. could hear the bluster in Puck's voice loud and clear.

"You're right. You don't have to listen to me." Kurt brushed Puck's jaw with his fingertips. "There are a lot of things we do for each other, Noah," Kurt trailed his hand down Puck's chest, down, until it rested just above his cock. "That we don't have to do." Kurt whispered the last words so low, that Mrs. P. had trouble hearing them.

"Babe, you wouldn't."

Kurt curled his hand around Puck's cock, through his jeans, and held him just a little too tight. "You're important to me, Noah. So, yes, there isn't much I wouldn't do." Kurt captured Puck's mouth, grinding lips and teeth together.

Noah broke the kiss, leaned his forehead against Kurt's. "You suck, Hummel, and I don't mean that in the good way." Puck sighed dramatically. "O.K. I'll get the applications."

Mrs. P. did a dance very, very, quietly in the hallway outside the kitchen door. Kurt was now her favourite person in the world.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Puck's waist, and tucked his head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Noah."

Mrs. P. straightened her shirt and popped her head into the kitchen. "Boys, Tamara and I are going to my sister's. We'll be back late."

Puck locked his bedroom door. "I'm not sure when they'll be back and my sister has a habit of bursting in whenever she feels like it."

The diva smiled demurely, his eyes glinting through his lashes, laughing at his boyfriend. "Oh, are we going to be doing something that we don't want interrupted?"

Puck grinned and started towards Kurt, unbuttoning his shirt as he closed in on the other boy. Kurt backed away very, very slowly, until his knees bumped into the bed behind him. Puck reached out a hand, and Kurt ducked and was gone. Puck blinked in surprise. Kurt was on the other side of the room, laughing. "Too much wine, Noah?"

"Smart ass!" Puck marched over to Kurt, this time reaching for him with both hands, and once again, he wasn't there.

Kurt giggled. Puck whipped around, Kurt was behind him. "You have to be faster than that if you want to win another football game, Noah."

The jock had no idea how the diva was doing this but he wasn't doing it again! Puck charged his boyfriend and tackled him to the floor.

"Still fast enough for you, Princess."

Clothes flew every which way, well; actually, Puck's clothes flew every which way. Kurt's clothes ended up folded, neatly on Puck's desk chair. Kurt didn't like his stuff to get wrinkled and if he had to get dressed in a hurry, which happened quite a bit, then it was easier if everything was in one place. Both boys could get naked remarkably quickly, which was saying something in Kurt's case, considering the amount of layers he wore. The jock grabbed the diva and pulled him onto the bed, rolling them both over until Kurt was on his back. Puck's fingers played with Kurt's hair, he smiled into the most beautiful eyes, anywhere, ever. "You're…"

Kurt traced his hands over his boyfriend's shoulders and down his arms. "Glad you think so." He pressed a kiss to Puck's chin. "You're not so bad, yourself."

Kurt squeaked as Puck bit his nipple sharply. "Don't go overboard with the compliments, Hummel."

The diva laughed and nipped and licked at the jock's biceps. Puck groaned and then things got quiet, just the slide of skin on skin; the sound of sighs, and moans, and whispered pleas. Kurt arched his neck, giving Puck a canvas for his particular art form. The jock nibbled, sucked and bit at the countertenor's neck. Kurt shivered and pressed himself even closer to the other boy, his hands splayed wide over Puck's ass. Kurt loved it when Puck marked him like this. He loved how it felt while Puck ate at his neck, and he loved how it looked the next morning. The designs Puck left on his skin, were a reassuringly physical sign that he wasn't alone anymore, that he was lucky enough to have Noah in his life, that he wasn't imagining the whole thing.

Puck sat back between Kurt's thighs. Kurt drew his legs up, offering himself to Puck. Puck pressed kisses into Kurt's inner thigh, nibbling ever closer to his cock. He licked Kurt's balls, sucking on them gently and then licked up the length of Kurt's cock, swirling his tongue over the head. Kurt was close already; his hands were clenching, digging into every part of Puck that he could reach. "Noah!"

Puck stopped, stared into Kurt's wild eyes. "You're going to come in my mouth, Babe, and then I'm going to fuck you."

"Yes, Yes." Kurt's voice was frantic. "Now, Noah, please."

Puck inhaled Kurt; his tongue swirling against Kurt's penis on the down stroke, his lips sucking hard on the way up. Kurt unravelled. Puck swallowed and kept moving his tongue gently, holding Kurt in his mouth until Kurt sighed, and brushed a hand into Puck's hair. Puck crawled over Kurt, pressed kisses into his jaw and across his eyelids. The jock reached under the pillows searching for the lube and condoms. He sat back on his heels, rolled on and slicked up. Then he slid slippery fingers into Kurt.

The countertenor moaned and arched his back, lifting himself into the jocks hands, pushing against his fingers. Puck slid his hands up the back of Kurt's thighs, pressing his legs further back and then positioned himself. He entered Kurt in one thrust. Puck watched as Kurt's eyes closed and his mouth opened on a gasp. Every position they had tried was good, and they had tried quite a few, but Puck had a preference for this one. He liked to watch Kurt, no, he loved to watch Kurt. He was just so damn responsive; watching Kurt come apart made Puck feel powerful, and so incredibly grateful and lucky.

Puck moved inside Kurt just the way he knew his lover liked it, just exactly at the right angle. He gave Kurt the deep fast thrusts that made him moan and clench his fists into the sheets. Kurt was panting now, his face and chest flushed, his eyes wide and dark. "Noah, Noah, please!"

Puck lost it. He collapsed onto Kurt and then rolled beside him, taking Kurt's cock and fisting his hand over it until Kurt shuddered and spilled over his hand.

The boys were both flat on their backs, shoulders touching, fingers linked. Puck rolled over onto his side, ran his fingers down Kurt's chest and over his hip. "You know it's considered a mitzvah to make love on the Sabbath."

Kurt raised one of Puck's hands and brushed a kiss across his knuckles. "What's a mitzvah?"

"It's like doing a good thing, a good deed, following God's commandment."

Kurt smoothed his fingers through Puck's strip of hair. "It's nice to know that God's on our side."