Mail Order Bride 2/?

Sep 01, 2010 19:22

Title: Mail Order Bride 2/?
Author: 1farmer_girl
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt
Genre: Historical AU, Romance, Drama
Warning: Mpreg and slight genderbending
Spoilers: None, I pretty much used names and basic personality outlines
Disclaimer: If I owned Glee I would probably make it unsuitable for broadcast television and it would be taken off the air which would be sad, so I’ll let Ryan Murphy keep it.
Author Notes: This is the result of a dare from a friend who said it wasn’t possible to make a believable historical mpreg.  I can’t pass up a challenge, so here is my historical mpreg, whether it is believable or not I shall leave up to the reader.  Also, just to clarify there are three genders in this universe; male, female, and intesex which are basically males who are able to carry children.  Both female and intersex are referred to as carriers.
Summary: The year is 1855 and the east coast of America is tense with the possibility of an upcoming Civil War, but in Northern Minnesota Noah Puckerman knows nothing of such politics.  He only has to worry about how he’s going to live with the bride he’s mother is sending him.  
Word Count: 3,519


Puck

Puck steered his mare down the main street (also the only street) in town.  Sure enough there was a small figure standing in the train shelter surrounded by a lot of luggage.  If Puck had known that one person could own so much stuff he would have brought the wagon.  He could probably only fit 1 or 2 in the buggy.  Still, he could just store the rest in the train station for a day or two until he could bring the wagon in.

As he drove up he wondered idly why a carrier who clearly came from a well of family to have that many possessions, would be willing to come out west.  And, oh my, the carrier he’d been sent was an intersex.  Holy shit, clearly God did love him ‘cause he had sent Puck a cute little intersex with rosy cheeks and big eyes that couldn’t decide if they wanted to be blue or green.  Puck stared in awe until he was snapped out of it by a sharp voice.

“Are you Noah Puckerman?”

It took Puck half a second to realize that, yes, his name was Noah, even if no one ever called him that anymore.

“Yes, I-“

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Well-“

“Are there no clocks in Minnesota?  I could have frozen to death out here or been attacked by wolves or savages.  I certainly hope you aren’t planning on making this lack of punctuality a regular thing.”

Goodness, for such a cute kid he sure had a mouth on himself.  Society generally expected carriers to be meek and quiet.  Puck couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a carrier this feisty.  Of course, Puck being Puck, his mind quickly turned to dirty thoughts and wondered if the carrier was just as feisty in bed, or if a few touches in the right places would have him mewling like a kitten.

“I’m sorry I’m late.  There are clocks in Minnesota, but in the winter the mail delivery ain’t the best.  I only just got the news you were coming a few hours ago.  I got here as fast as I could with all the snow.”  Puck decided it would be best not to mention he actually got the letter yesterday, but hadn’t bothered to open it until today.

“Oh,” the carrier visibly deflated, “Well, I suppose I can make allowances this one time.”

“Thanks,” Puck said drily, “Are you going to tell me your name?”

“Oh, right,” and the kid actually blushed, “I’m Kurt Hummel, it’s nice to meet you, Noah.”  And he held out his hand to shake.  Puck climbed out of the buggy to shake the extended hand.

“You can just call me Puck, only my mother calls me Noah.  Can I help you into the buggy?”

That lovely blush got even deeper as Kurt answered “Yes, thank you.”

Puck frowned as he lifted Kurt into the cart.  He was way too skinny; even with the fur coat he was wearing he weighed next to nothing.  That was something that would have to take care of.  Puck liked his partners to have some healthy curves.

“So,” Puck started turning back to the multitude of suitcases, “Which one of these do you want?”

“What?” Kurt’s eyes were large and horrified.  “I need all of those.”

“You need,” Puck did a quick count, “14 suitcases for a couple of days?  ‘Cause these won’t all fit in the cart.”

Kurt pouted. “All right then, I guess I can manage with just the black and white checkered one for now, but only if you promise to come back for the rest.”

Satisfied, Puck hefted the aforementioned suitcase, which happened to be the largest of the group and tied it to the rack on the back of the buggy.  Then he climbed into the seat next to Kurt.  “You need more blankets?  It’s about a two hour ride to the house and it’d be a real shame to get frostbite on your pretty self.”  And the kid was blushing again.  One would think he’d never gotten a compliment before.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Kurt said softly, while looking up a Puck through his eyelashes, which made Puck think entirely inappropriate thoughts.

“Well, good then,” Puck coughed and shifted uncomfortably.

The two rode on for awhile with only the sound of horse hooves on the snow to fill the awkward silence until Kurt turned toward him and said “So, I suppose you should tell me a bit about yourself.”

Puck shrugged, “Not much to tell really.  I used to live in Boston, but decided that wasn’t the life I wanted to live and bought a couple hundred acres out here a few years back.  I spend most of the day outside farming or carving wood furniture to sell in town.  I go into Oak Grove on Sunday for the church service.  I go into Clarksville once or twice a year if I need supplies I can’t get at the general store here.  That’s about it.  I’m sure you have a more interesting story.  How did a sweet thing like you end up in this neck of the woods?”  The last bit was probably a little unnecessary, but with a blush like that the kid was just asking for it.

Sure enough Kurt flushed red before answering, “My father was a ship’s captain who was lost to sea.  His employers refused to give me any of his back pay, even though they owed nearly a year’s worth.  I wasn’t able to pay the rent on our house and when I asked the landlord for an extension he said he would only do that if I agreed to marry him.  He was a horrible nasty man with a drinking problem so I asked him to let me have a few days to think about it and as soon as I left I went to a decent carrier provider service I knew about.  They were able to match me up with you right away.  They gave me a train ticket and I snuck out of the house in the middle of the night.”

“Huh, how did you manage to sneak out with 14 suitcases?” Puck inquired.

Kurt laughed and wasn’t that a beautiful sound.  “I don’t think Karofsky, which was the name of the landlord; I don’t think he really thought me capable of doing anything like that so he didn’t have anyone watching me or anything.”

“Well, I’ll have to do my best to be better that this Karofsky fellow,” Puck said.

“I assure you it shouldn’t be all that difficult.  He was an extremely unpleasant man without a single redeeming quality.  But enough about Karofsky, tell me more about Oak Grove.  From what I saw it seemed like a quaint little town.”

For the rest of the trip back to his, their, house Puck told about the people who lived in town, the school teacher that would be coming in the summer, the hope that being on the new train line would eventually bring more people to the small town, and what few social functions there were in Oak Grove.  Before long Puck pulled up in front of the house and sent Kurt inside to warm up.  After seeing Kurt safely inside Puck turned the mare toward the barn in a much better mood then when he had left earlier that day.

Kurt

Kurt glanced around Puck’s house when he entered.  He didn’t want to seem like a snoop, though technically it was his house now too.  There didn’t seem to be a lot.  There was only one room, with a small loft above.  There was a small table and 2 chairs in the middle of the room.  On the far wall was a shelf holding some dishes and a Bible.  The wall to the left was mostly taken up by a large fireplace.  There was a bed next to the fireplace with a wooden chest underneath it.

Kurt could feel himself flushing yet again.  He seemed to be doing that a lot since he had met Puck.  He knew essentially what a married couple could do in their bed after the sun had set and despite what some people might think he wasn’t completely naive.  He realized that Puck would want to do…those things, but it hadn’t really hit him until just now.  Saints above!  In a matter of a few short days his closely guarded virginity would be no more.

Kurt barely made it into one of the wooden chairs before his knees gave out.  He took a few deep breathes before he could start hyperventilating.  There was no reason to panic just yet.  Who knew how long it would take to find a pastor in this backwards country.  It could be weeks before he had to worry about Puck taking him to bed.

Besides there were far more important duties for a carrier than warming a man’s bed.  Kurt had attended St. Timothy’s, the best carrier school in the country and he shuddered to think what Madame Grace would say if she knew he was sitting around thinking about night time activities when there was dinner to make.

This would give him an excellent chance to show Puck that he actually did have some skills and was capable of doing something other than blushing.  Kurt took off his coat and hung it on a hook by the door and turned towards his task full of optimism.  He climbed up into the loft to see what was available and soon saw that he had his work cut out for him.

There was a line of different dried meats hanging from the rafters.  There was a large box of potatoes and another of onions.  There was a nearly empty bag of flour, a nearly full bag of brown sugar and a mid-size case of coffee beans.  Hoping there was a general store somewhere in town where he could get a little more variety of food; Kurt rolled up his sleeves and set to work.

Venison stew wasn’t the most creative meal, but judging from what was available Puck wasn’t expecting anything too extravagant.  There was already a pot of water hanging above a smoldering fire.  Kurt had never cooked over an open flame before, but surely it couldn’t be all that different from a stove.  He added a couple logs to heat the flame up.  While he waited for the water to come to a boil he chopped up a couple potatoes and onions and a decent sized chunk of venison.

Puck came back into the house just as he was adding the ingredients.  Puck was flushed from the cold and stomping snow off of his boots.  He looked a little surprised to see Kurt as if he had already forgotten Kurt was there.  They had been talking alright in the buggy, but it seemed like during the half hour they had been apart they had reverted back to their previous awkwardness.

Puck washed up a bit before turning to Kurt and asking, “You, uh, you need any help with dinner?”

“No, thanks, I’m pretty much done here; we just need to wait a while for the potatoes and meat to soften.  Why don’t you take a seat?”

Puck sat down with a small smile and watched Kurt bustle around the room, stirring the stew, setting dishes on the table and doing some general straightening up.  Puck seemed content and even happy as he watched Kurt busy himself and Kurt was surprised by how much he liked the basic hominess of the situation.  He could easily see himself still playing out this very scene 10 years in the future, maybe with a few more chairs around the table to accommodate any additions to the family…

Kurt was lining Puck’s boots against the wall when a sharp intake of breath from Puck distracted him from his daydream.  Kurt was about turn around and ask what the matter was when he realized the position he was in.  He was bent over at the waist, his rear end on full and blatant display to Puck.

Wondering when he had become so bold and hoping none of his decorum teachers ever found out, Kurt accidently/on purpose knocked over one of Puck’s boots and did some unnecessary wiggling of his rear to set it upright.  He then stood up and determinably didn’t look at Puck to keep himself from dying of embarrassment.

Fortunately, the stew was finished so he had plenty to distract him, filling up the two bowls with the steaming food.

“Smells delicious,” Puck said softly as Kurt took the seat opposite Puck.

“Thank you, it was nothing really.  Would you say grace please?”

“Oh, right,” Puck moved his hand away from his spoon and Kurt wondered if he had forgotten to say grace because he was so eager to try Kurt’s cooking.  Kurt warmed a little at the thought as he folded his hands and listened to Puck’s deep voice recite the Lord’s Prayer.

The two ate in silence for a little while, Puck shoveling the stew in his mouth at a flattering rate.  Within a few minutes Kurt was spooning a second helping into Puck’s bowl.  It seemed like a good time to bring up the need for a greater variety of available food, so remembering that the quickest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach Kurt opened with, “I’m glad you find my stew pleasing, even though it is nothing special.  I’m hoping to add some to the larder to make some more interesting meals for you.”

Puck frowned.  “What were you thinking, ‘cause this time of year the general store doesn’t have that much.”

“Oh,” Kurt deflated.  He’d thought that money would be the only obstacle.  He hadn’t considered that what he considered staples in the kitchen wouldn’t be available out here.  It might be harder than he thought to adjust to living in the Wild West.

Puck seemed to notice Kurt’s indecision because he said, “I’ll hitch up the wagon tomorrow to get your luggage.  If you want to come with I’ll take you to the general store and you can see what they have available.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” Kurt paused, trying to figure out how best to phrase his next words without offending Puck.  “I want you to know, I’m not really the spoiled, rich person you might think I am.  I know life is going to be different from what I’m used to and since we’re going to be together I…I don’t want you to be too proud or embarrassed to tell me if I’m asking for too much.”

Puck didn’t say anything at first and Kurt was worried that maybe he was mad, but he was just watching Kurt with a thoughtful expression on his face.  “I did think you were a spoiled, rich intersex,” Puck said finally, “I gotta tell you, 14 suitcases ain’t a great first impression.  But I see now that you aren’t really like that, so I apologize for jumping to conclusions.  You don’t have to worry about the money though.  Contrary to appearances,” Here Puck made a gesture to encompass the sparse house, “I’m actually doing pretty good, money wise.  Never had anybody to buy stuff for before, so I never spent that much.”

Kurt smiled, grateful that Puck didn’t seem to be one of those men who were too proud to be honest with their partners.  For the first time in several days Kurt was truly happy.  He’d really lucked out being sent to Puck.  Kurt knew that there were a lot of unpleasant men in the world, but Puck seemed like a real gentleman.  He was a little rough around the edges to be sure, but he was kind and polite and it didn’t hurt that he was very good looking.

As he started cleaning up the supper mess Kurt couldn’t help thinking that Puck may just be the sort of person he could fall in love with.  These thoughts made what happened next all the more devastating.

Kurt had melted a pan of snow over the fire to wash the dishes with and was putting the dried bowls back on the shelf when he felt Puck’s presence come up behind him.  Turning around, Kurt started to see Puck so close to him.

“Uh,” Kurt stammered, unsure how he should handle this situation.  “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Dinner was delicious,” Puck said huskily, wrapping an arm around Kurt’s waist and pulling him close.

“Well, thank you, that’s very kind of you to say.  I always got top marks in cooking.  That and French were my best subjects at St. Timothy’s.  Madame Lenore always complimented me on my accent.”  Kurt knew distantly that he was rambling, but his mind didn’t seem to be working quite right with Puck holding him so close.  Puck really wasn’t that much taller than Kurt, but farm work seemed to have given him far more muscles than any of the men from the city that had courted Kurt before.  Kurt laid his hands on Puck’s chest, telling himself that he would do the proper thing and push Puck away, but instead found himself instantly distracted by the solid pectoral muscles he felt there.

“Let me thank you properly,” Puck said, breaking Kurt from his reverie.

“Wha?”  Was all Kurt got out before Puck’s mouth sealed itself over Kurt’s.  Now, Kurt had been kissed before.  Polite, chaste kisses from boys after dances and in tucked away alcoves, but never like this.  Puck had gone straight past chaste into a dirty, wrong, messy kiss that surely only prostitutes would permit.

Kurt had been raised to be a good and proper intersex, told by his father and all his teachers that only his husband should touch him in such a way, but it felt so good with Puck’s tongue in his mouth and one of Puck’s hands running though his hair, the other low on his back, that Kurt forgot himself.  It wasn’t until the hand on his back drifted down to his bottom that Kurt snapped out of it, ashamed that he had allowed things to go so far.

Pushing Puck away he gasped, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Puck growled, “I’m claiming my bride.”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re bride?  Let me remind you Puck that we aren’t married yet.”

“So what, we’ll get Pastor Schuester do his thing after the service on Sunday.  What difference does it make if I take you to bed now or in a few days?  It’s what you came out west for anyway, right?”

Kurt was so shocked he almost didn’t notice Puck moving in to kiss him again.  Well and truly mad now, Kurt slapped Puck across the face.  “Yes, Noah Puckerman, I came out here to be your bride and submit to all that marriage entails, but when, and only when, we are properly married before God and country will I allow you to bed me.  If all you wanted was s-sex, then you should have gone to a whorehouse.”

Puck had drawn back at Kurt slap and narrowed his eyes at his words.  “Well, maybe I’ll do just that,” he hissed.  “At least I don’t have to worry about a whore being a frigid cocktease.”  Then Puck turned and marched out the door leaving Kurt standing alone in the house.

At first, Kurt was beyond furious.  Who did that country bumpkin think he was, saying such horrid things?  He was Kurt freaking Hummel; he had graduated from St. Timothy’s with honors and had dined with French nobles and he demanded the respect he deserved gosh darn it.  If Noah Puckerman couldn’t see what an amazing catch Kurt was it was his own fault and he could spend all the money he wanted getting prostitutes to keep him warm at night.

But then Kurt looked out the window and saw that the mare that had been pulling the buggy earlier was still in the pasture by the barn.  Puck must have not gone to a brothel after all, but just gone outside to blow off steam.  As Kurt got ready for bed he realized that he wasn’t truly angry anymore, just upset and a little lost.  Had it really only been an hour since he had been thinking about the wonderful life and family he and Puck could have together?

Kurt hesitated before blowing out the light and crawling into the bed.  He didn’t want to send out the wrong signals, but he certainly wasn’t going to sleep on the floor.  After awhile Puck came back inside and Kurt pretended to be asleep.  He could here Puck breathing harshly above him and he hoped against hope that Puck wouldn’t try to join Kurt on the bed.  Thankfully, Puck did leave; stomping up the steps to the loft.  Kurt relaxed and eventually drifted off to sleep, but not before he had dampened his pillow with tears.

glee, nc-17, puck/kurt, mail-order bride

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