Blood Duet - a Glee fanfic, chapter 3
Title: Blood Duet
Author: AshtakRa
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Puck
Warnings: Supernatural themes and set in season 2, language and some mild violence
Summary: Kurt is the undead, Puck unwittingly becomes his companion and Finn is, as always, without a clue.
Previous chapters: ( Chapter 1 ) ( Chapter 2 )
Puck had to keep his face turned forward but he felt the other’s eyes roam across his body and he shivered ever so slightly at the sensation. He was used to being ogled, he put a lot of work into looking good - but this was more than that. It was an inspection, a weighing up of his worth.
It made Puck feel equal part dirty and thrilled.
Chapter 3
Kurt
Damn it all to hell in a Gucci knock-off handbag!
Kurt threw the newspaper on the kitchen table and swore a string of words, some in languages he was not sure he even knew.
He thought he had properly blanked the woman’s memory but obviously got something wrong - now the whole town knew about him. Well not exactly who and what he was but it would make people start taking more notice.
He would have to be extra careful. He may be fast and strong and could heal from almost any wound but he was also very alone in this.
Losing one’s humanity was a traumatic experience but he had decided soon after that he wasn’t going to spiral into decadence and lethargy - he had been given a power he never thought possible, an ability to change the world around him. A few criminals in small town wasn’t a big start but he definitely had time on his side.
He hadn’t asked for it - but Hummels did not give up.
Of course immortality came with drawbacks; like having to be invited into your own house - luckily his father had made it easy by just saying ‘get your ass in here’ when Kurt had stood at the door looking forlorn after his summer trip. It was not exactly the traditional invitation to enter but whatever supernatural power controlled such things obviously relied on the intent of the invite rather than the wording.
Blood was the other difficulty but that had been solved with a lockable fridge hidden in the back of his closet. Few were brave enough to enter his closet in any case and he was careful to stuff the blood bags into milkshake containers marked ‘Kurt’s Special Organic Wheat-grass & health drink’. On the off chance that someone in the house actually made it past the closet and lock there was no way they would touch something so obviously and disgustingly good for you.
If they did Kurt would have to mind fuck them.
Thankfully he had not needed to do anything to his Dad yet - that would really drive the guilt into overdrive.
Carol needed a push now and then to ignore his lack of eating solids (he could if he wanted but all food tasted like cardboard) but since she had not got to know him too well prior to summer she hadn’t noticed any odd changes in his behaviour.
Finn was another story.
Before this Kurt would have said that they had reached a pretty good middle ground of friendship and burgeoning step-brotherhood - once Finn had accepted Kurt wasn’t crushing on him anymore. God that was embarrassing and Kurt still cringed inside at the memory of it. Finn though, Finn obviously had taken an almost unhealthy notice of Kurt without Kurt even realising it.
His first night back Finn noticed that Kurt had not slept a wink - downside of sharing a room. No mind fucking needed there - he just told Frankenteen that Virginia was in another time-zone and he was jetlagged.
He bought it.
Now Kurt could sleep - he was no Edwardian vampire, but he just didn’t need to for a full eight hours every day.
Other lapses though were not so easy.
Finn catching Kurt having a midnight milkshake - blood dripping from bent straw.
Eyes
Focus
Mind-fuck
Lifting car clear of the ground one-handed to retrieve dropped iPhone.
Eyes
Focus
Mind-fuck
Sitting at the bottom of the pool to see how long he could stay without air - apparently indefinitely but Finn was about to dive in to ‘save’ him.
Eyes
Take away Finn’s phone before he called the ambulance
Focus
Mind-fuck
Finn finding his bullet-hole ridden shirt, blood included (he had apparently been going to do Kurt’s washing as a favour)
Eyes
Focus
Mind-fuck and include order to never touch clothes hamper again!
Sunday brunch with Brittany... well she did taste like croissants.
Eyes
Focus
Mind-fuck
The list went on. Finn just had this knack of catching Kurt out and at times Kurt considered turning him just to stop the frustration and having to see that jaw going slack and the blank look of ‘yes Kurt’. But vampirism could not cure stupidity and Kurt did not want to be stuck with that for eternity.
He put on his Leopard clothes, then laughed at himself. Now he was calling himself the Leopard! A name for what he was doing had never really occurred to Kurt, he had assumed he would always remain in the shadows. Not in the twenty-first century it would seem.
Studying his reflection in the mirror - and yes that had been a welcome surprise. How would you ever fix make-up and hair without a reflection? His vampire nature meant he no longer required any extra help for a flawless complexion but hair was still important - and fashion, to a degree.
Gone were the clothes that made him stand out. He had not regressed to his ‘hetero-crisis’ days like last term but had found a happy medium, styled somewhat on, and he paused to shake his head at the irony, Puck of all people. Yes the guy was a Neanderthal and yes he was overly machismo and all that but somehow he exuded a personal style that combined showing off his best assets while seemingly not putting effort into his clothing.
If a football jock could do it so could Kurt, with a few improvements.
His school attire was one thing but his night activity wear required another level of low-key. Black on black was usually a total fashion faux-pas but with the right material and use of leather belt and combat boots Kurt felt he had it right.
One thing he could not change was his stature. He would now be gracile for life, or un-life… for the rest of his earthly existence. The woman had provided a very good description so the criminals, and probably the goons he was after tonight, would be wary of someone of small stature dressed in black and all alone.
He needed someone else.
Kurt smiled at himself in the mirror as the perfect candidate came to mind.
Puck
Puck risked another peek at the Leopard beside him in the car. He had been totally unable to discern any facial features and this time it was because as well as the hood he wore black cloth over his mouth and nose. The material was the same tight black-knit as his hooded jacket - Puck’s eyes also kept checking out the guy’s chest but he couldn’t work out why.
He did not have glasses on but his eyes were so dark all Puck ever saw was a glint of reflected light like moonlight off a pond - it was as if this Leopard’s eyes were all iris (Puck had paid attention in biology - like most classes he just had to pretend he hadn’t).
The guy barely moved except to point out a change in direction or shift to look down a side street.
“So,” ventured Puck. “Apart from being your driver this evening how exactly am I going to help you?”
Puck had to keep his face turned forward but he felt the other’s eyes roam across his body and he shivered ever so slightly at the sensation. He was used to being ogled, he put a lot of work into looking good - but this was more than that. It was an inspection, a weighing up of his worth.
It made Puck feel equal part dirty and thrilled.
“You’re the bait,” stated the Leopard flatly and without further explanation.
“Bait,” muttered Puck. “Great, ‘cause that always ends well.”
Instead of going to the poorer end of the commercial district Puck was directed near the nightclub area - made sense, more crime probably occurred here at night anyway.
As he parked at the back of an abandoned gas station Puck risked putting a hand on the Leopard’s shoulder. The dude did not flinch or pull away but did look at the hand as if it was something he had never seen. Puck snatched it back; maybe that had been too far but…
“Listen,” he said, maybe too loud now the engine was off. “Its just - I didn’t argue when you asked for help, but if I am risking my life tonight I should at least know your name.”
Those eyes again, orbs of blackness and for a moment Puck felt a familiar roar in his mind but it faded as soon as it had begun.
“That’s a fair request.” His voice, still too deep for the body had that aspect that sent Puck’s stomach broiling - he was beginning to imagine himself a twelve year old girl with his first crush - so utterly not the Puckzilla he should be.
“Damon.”
“But that’s not your real name.”
The figure shrugged indifferently. “You could say it’s a family name.”
“Uh huh.” Puck got out and the Leopard, or Damon if he preferred, joined him.
Vapour escaped Puck’s mouth in the crisp night air but he noticed that none came from Damon. He was about to mention it when Damon turned those eyes on him again.
“So do I just call you ‘Bait’?”
“Um,” Puck chuckled at the thought and the fact it sounded hot in some totally kinky way. “I figured you know who I am.”
“Ah,” sighed Damon and circled around him, a gloved hand splayed across Puck’s chest as he almost whispered. “But what name do you want me to use?”
“Pu-.” Puck smiled a little at how quickly he almost answered but thought of his earlier conversation with Quinn - and the situation he was finding himself in. “Noah… call me Noah.”
“As you wish… Noah.” The eyes twinkled in merriment and Puck wondered when he started using words like merriment to describe another guy’s eyes.
“So Damon, what’re we doin’ - gonna bust some street gang?”
Damon laughed, stepped back and looked Puck up and down in that critical manner and Puck couldn’t help feel it was a little familiar.
“Like I said, bait. Kind of what you normally do but with one minor difference.”
Puck figured that ‘minor difference’ was something he was really going to regret.
Tbc...
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