Fic: A Crash Course In Falling 6/6 (Glee, Kurt/Puck, NC17)
Title: A Crash Course In Falling 6/6
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Puck (Kurt/Blaine)
Rating: NC17
Word count: ~60,000 overall; ~9,500 for this part
Summary: When people can’t see what’s standing right in front of them, sometimes the universe resorts to drastic measures. This is one of those times. So AU. So, so AU. Also, wingfic.
A/N: I apologize for the delay with the ending. Not only did I have company over the weekend, but I struggled harder with this last part than I expected. For better or worse it's done now, and I hope it was worth the wait. This was given a once-over by jengeorge, but she's got her own stuff going on, so we both probably missed things. Also she hasn't actually seen the last part, so that much is definitely unbetaed. You can read the entire thing at AO3, if you prefer.
The subject doesn’t come up again over the weekend, but Kurt can feel it hovering between them, his wings fluttering nervously every time he catches Puck looking at him a certain way. The hollow, anxious feeling settles in the center of his chest and stays, even when Puck’s right there with him, and Kurt has no idea how to make it go away.
In the past all it would take was a touch from Puck, just a kiss or a hand sliding into his feathers, and his whole body would relax. But since that night at the shop the feeling never quite goes away, and by the time Sunday rolls around Kurt’s so on edge that all he wants to do is climb inside Puck until he can’t tell where one of them ends and the other begins.
Just a few days ago he wouldn’t have hesitated, and he would have been confident that Puck wouldn’t have any complaints at all. But Puck’s been uncharacteristically quiet since their conversation in the shop, and there’s a part of Kurt that keeps expecting Puck to announce that he’s had enough and he’s going back to his life before Kurt crash-landed in the middle of it.
Kurt wouldn’t even blame him, because it’s not as though he has anything to offer. There’s sex, sure, but Puck’s never had a problem in that department. If he left he wouldn’t have any trouble finding someone else to share a bed with, and unlike Kurt, he wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not he could touch them without causing himself severe pain.
He can leave whenever he wants, and if he feels a little of Kurt’s residual pain, it probably won’t even take him that long to learn to ignore it. The thought makes Kurt’s chest ache even more, but he does his best to ignore it and focus on the cracked radiator in front of him.
They’ve been working in the shop for a few hours now, taking advantage of the lack of customers and other mechanics around on Sunday to spend a few hours working together. Except that Puck’s mostly been ignoring Kurt, head buried in the car Kurt’s dad has him working on. He’s asked a couple questions, but other than that he’s been pretending Kurt’s not even there.
Kurt knows it’s his own fault. He just doesn’t know how to fix it, because he can’t take back any of the things he said. He can’t go back and notice Puck noticing him, and he can’t erase the fact that until he sprouted wings, he’d thought he was perfectly happy with Blaine.
He was perfectly happy, but he’d had no idea what he was missing, either, and now that he knows how Puck can make him feel, Kurt doesn’t want to give it up. He doesn’t want to lose it, but he’s afraid to say the wrong thing again and finally push Puck away for good. So he keeps his mouth shut and he works on the radiator his dad never got around to yesterday, and if he glances over his shoulder at Puck a little more often than strictly necessary, it’s not hurting anyone.
“Hey,” Puck says, glancing up from whatever it is he’s doing, and Kurt drops what he’s doing and crosses the garage to stand next to him.
“What is it?” he asks, and if he presses his shoulder against Puck’s, it’s just because there’s not that much room to see what’s going on with the engine.
And okay, technically it doesn’t really matter what’s going on with the engine, because the car Puck’s working on is just an old junker his dad’s letting him practice with. But Kurt’s supposed to be helping him learn, and if Puck has a question, the least he can do is answer it.
“I was just gonna ask if you were ready to break for lunch.”
“Oh,” Kurt says, his whole face flushing, and he doesn’t miss the way Puck smirks at him. But he doesn’t pull away, either, and Kurt decides to take that as a good sign. “Sure.”
He follows Puck to his dad’s office, heading for the small fridge and pulling out the lunch Carole insisted on packing for them before they left the house. He hands Puck a sandwich and a Coke before he unzips his coveralls, easing his arms out of the sleeves and letting the fabric fall around his waist to set his wings free.
They stretch to their full length and flap hard against his shoulders, and Kurt lets out a relieved sigh and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again Puck’s watching him, his expression dark and before he knows it Kurt’s moving forward. His wings flap again, and Kurt knows by now that they’re trying to steer him closer to Puck.
It’s not as though Puck hasn’t touched him since their…well, not an argument, exactly, but that’s what it feels like. They went home that same night and Kurt let Puck peel off his coveralls, making jokes the whole time about lube jobs, and it would have been perfect if it hadn’t felt a little like they were both trying to prove that everything was fine.
He lets his wings propel him forward, taking a seat next to Puck on the couch that’s been in his dad’s office for as long as Kurt can remember. Their shoulders press together and Kurt feels his wings flutter at the contact, and when they stretch out and brush against Puck’s back Kurt doesn’t try to stop them. Puck shifts next to him and Kurt braces himself for the moment he pulls away, but instead he reaches behind Kurt to slide a hand up the center of his back.
His fingers stroke the soft down at the base of Kurt’s wings, sending little shivers of pleasure along Kurt’s wings. For a moment Puck just watches them vibrating under his touch, eyes wide as though he hasn’t seen them do it dozens of times by now. It’s sort of sweet, so Kurt doesn’t roll his eyes as he turns into Puck and presses their lips together.
“We can bail on the party, if you want,” Puck says, murmuring the words against Kurt’s mouth.
Kurt pulls back far enough to look at him, and he wants to say yes, that they should just stay home where it’s safe. Where it’s just them, except that it’s always just them, and he can’t keep asking Puck to give up everything to keep him company.
“It’s all right. It’ll be nice to see everyone.”
Just for a second Puck’s expression clouds, and Kurt wonders if that was the wrong answer. But a second later Puck blinks and it’s gone, and he tells himself he just imagined it. He must have, because the party was Puck’s idea in the first place.
Puck shrugs like it’s no big deal, but he pulls away until not even their shoulders are touching and turns back to his lunch. It leaves Kurt feeling more hollow than ever, but he doesn’t know how to say so without sounding completely pathetic, so he lets Puck pull away and he tries to pretend that it doesn’t bother him.
~
When they get to Mr. Schuester’s place most of New Directions is already there. Kurt can’t deny that he’s a little nervous about being around so many people for the first time since graduation, even if it is just his friends. But he can’t say so without admitting that there’s a part of him that wishes they’d stayed home, so he keeps his mouth shut and follows Puck up the stairs to Mr. Schue’s door.
He sort of expects Puck to ditch him as soon as they get there; he’s still more or less giving Kurt the silent treatment, brooding about something he doesn’t seem to want to talk about. But as soon as Schue opens the door and grins at them Puck’s arm slides around his shoulders, fingers absently stroking Kurt’s jacket where his wings are folded against his back.
“Guys, it’s great to see you,” Schue says, and he sounds like he means it. Kurt can’t deny that it’s sort of nice to see him too, even if it’s a little weird to be attending a going away party for his stepbrother at their former teacher’s house.
Miss Pillsbury doesn’t look quite as thrilled about the company, but Kurt suspects that has something to do with the fact that half the people in her apartment will still be attending McKinley next year. And he can see where she’s coming from, but she’s the one who agreed to marry Mr. Schuester, so she’s going to have to get used to his more-than-occasional bouts of inappropriate behavior where New Directions is concerned.
As soon as they walk in most of the room turns to look at them, and Kurt tries not to notice the way everyone’s eyes go straight to his shoulders, but it’s impossible not to see it. He doesn’t blame them; it’s natural to be curious, and most of them haven’t seen the wings since he was in the hospital for the first time, if they’ve seen them at all.
They definitely haven’t seen Puck with his arm around Kurt, holding Kurt against his side as though he’s worried that someone might try to touch him. Kurt’s fairly sure no one here would do that, at least not on purpose, but he’s grateful for the familiar weight of Puck’s arm on his shoulders all the same.
“You keeping this on?” Puck asks, hand sliding along Kurt’s jacket again, and Kurt shrugs and turns to look at him.
“I suppose we might as well get it over with.”
Puck grins at him, and for a second Kurt thinks he might lean in for a kiss. But all Puck does is let go of Kurt’s shoulders and step behind him, helping him ease his jacket off over his wings. Kurt bites back a sigh when Puck’s fingers slide through his feathers, straightening one here and there until he’s satisfied that everything’s in place.
“Thanks,” Kurt says, glancing over his shoulder to smile at Puck so he won’t have to watch their friends staring at his wings. But he can’t ignore them forever, so finally Kurt takes a deep breath and turns to face the room again.
As soon as he does they all turn away, and Kurt rolls his eyes and turns back to Puck. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.”
“It’s not too late to bail,” Puck says, taking a step forward to rest a hand on Kurt’s waist. “We could pick up some food and drive out to the lake.”
It’s tempting, and Kurt’s about to say yes when the doorbell rings again. Schue crosses the room to pull the door open, and when Kurt glances over he finds himself staring back at Blaine. Instantly he’s aware of Puck’s hands on him, of the way they’re practically chest to chest right in the center of Schue’s living room.
It has to look at least as strange as the wings - probably stranger, because Blaine’s seen the wings more than once - and Kurt blushes and lets his hands drop away from Puck’s chest. As soon as he does Puck turns to look at the door, and when he sees Blaine he frowns and lets go of Kurt altogether.
“Puck…”
“Forget it,” Puck says, and now Kurt’s positive that he’s pouting.
He’s gone before Kurt can stop him, crossing the living room to stop in front of Brittany and Santana. If he’s trying to make Kurt jealous…well, it’s kind of working, especially when Brittany reaches out and runs a hand along his back as though she’s checking to see if Puck’s got a matching set of wings hidden somewhere.
Kurt’s wings give an agitated little flutter as he frowns at the back of Puck’s head, but if Puck can tell he doesn’t let on. He keeps his back to Kurt, anyway, laughing at something Brittany says and pretending he has no idea that Kurt’s staring a hole in the back of his head.
He feels someone stop next to him and tenses automatically, his wings folding in close as Kurt looks over to find Quinn standing next to him. She’s the last person Kurt’s expecting; the truth is he hasn’t really thought about her since graduation, and he definitely didn’t expect her to seek him out and hand him a glass of what he assumes is non-alcoholic punch.
“Thank you,” he says, accepting it carefully.
“I heard about you and Puck,” she says, her gaze straying to his wings for a second before she meets his eyes again. “I have to say, I didn’t really believe it.”
“That makes two of us,” Kurt answers, and when she smirks at him he allows himself a smile.
For a minute she doesn’t answer, and he wonders if that’s the end of the conversation. It’s possible she only sought him out for confirmation of the rumor, but if that was all she wanted then surely watching Puck smooth out his feathers would have done the trick.
“Still, it makes a weird sort of sense, if you think about it.”
When Kurt raises an eyebrow in her direction she smirks again, and he remembers why he and Quinn have never been what anyone would call friends.
“Puck needs to be needed; everyone knows that. The fact that he’s the only person in Lima who can touch you…well, that’s about as needed as he can get, isn’t it?”
He supposes he shouldn’t be all that surprised that she knows Puck so well. They share a child, after all, plus there’s that whole sordid history with Finn. For a second he’s gripped by the urge to defend Puck, to insist that wanting to be important to someone is perfectly natural. And it is, but the fact remains that she’s not wrong.
“I’d say if anyone needs anyone, it’s me,” Kurt admits, his wings fluttering indignantly when she laughs.
“It’s almost cute,” she says, and when she smiles at him, he rolls his eyes. “A little pathetic, but cute.”
Kurt fails to see the charm in the fact that Puck’s ignoring the fact that he exists, his back still to them as he talks to Finn and Artie and Sam. His wings flutter against his shoulders and he feels his face heat up, but when Quinn laughs next to him he doesn’t give her the satisfaction of looking at her.
“Look, just don’t break his heart, okay? Underneath it all he’s a decent guy, and he deserves to be happy.”
Kurt does look over at that, frowning when he realizes that she’s actually serious. “Who said anything about anyone’s heart?”
Quinn scowls at him, and when she leans closer he takes a step backwards, wings flapping to keep him from losing his balance. “Please, you’re not fooling anyone. Except maybe yourself.”
She lifts one eyebrow in that menacing way he’d never admit is actually a little intimidating, but before he can come up with an appropriately scathing response, she’s turning her back on him and crossing the room to find someone else to bully. For a few seconds Kurt watches her go, his heart beating in time with the wild fluttering of his wings as he lets her words sink in.
And it’s not as though he didn’t know that he needs Puck, or even that he likes him. They’ve proven that they’re physically compatible, and Kurt’s even come to terms with the fact that he needs Puck. But he hasn’t let himself consider the fact that maybe Puck needs him just as much, and that it might be because of more than just his wings.
“Kurt.”
He flinches at the sound of Blaine’s voice, wings drawing in close as Kurt turns to glance over his shoulder. “Blaine, I’m sorry, I have to…”
That’s as far as he gets before he’s moving forward, crossing the room to stop behind Puck. As soon as he does Finn and Artie and Sam all stop talking to look at him, and when Puck turns around Kurt’s heart lurches into his throat.
“I need to talk to you,” he says, reaching out to grab Puck’s hand. He has no idea where he’s planning to go, because this isn’t his house and he can’t very well drag Puck into Schue’s bedroom to hash out whatever’s going on with them. But his wings won’t stop fluttering, and he knows he has to do something to make this right.
For a second he thinks Puck’s actually going to refuse, but before Kurt has a chance to panic, Puck shrugs and turns away from their friends. “Okay.”
Kurt pulls Puck across the living room before he can change his mind, pausing long enough to open the door and then leading Puck out of Schue’s apartment. He doesn’t think about who might see them, about the fact that his jacket’s still inside and his wings are on full display.
Once they’re outside he drags Puck down the stairs and across the parking lot, pausing long enough to unlock the Navigator before he lets go of Puck’s hand.
“Look, if you’re gonna dump me can we just get it over with?”
It takes a few seconds for Kurt to register Puck’s words, but when he does he frowns and turns to face Puck. “What?”
Puck crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, across the parking lot like he doesn’t want to meet Kurt’s gaze. “You heard me.”
“Why on earth…I’m not trying to break up with you,” Kurt says, and he knows he sounds angry, but mostly he’s just confused. Confused and suddenly aware of the fact that they’re standing outside where anyone might spot him, and he pulls the car door open and glances around to make sure no one’s watching before he climbs inside. “Puck, please.”
Puck lets out an exasperated breath, but he follows Kurt into the back seat of the Navigator. Kurt perches on the seat next to Puck, careful to avoid Puck’s sprawled legs until he figures out what he’s going to say. And that’s the thing, because he’d been so determined to talk to Puck just a few minutes ago, but now that they’re alone he has no idea how to start.
“Why would you think I was going to break up with you?”
“Give me a break, Kurt. The second Blaine walked in you couldn’t get away from me fast enough,” Puck says, scowling at a spot over Kurt’s shoulder.
“Are you serious?” Kurt says, rolling his eyes when he realizes that yes, Puck really does believe what he’s saying. “First of all, it was you who couldn’t wait to get away from me so you could catch up with the cheerleading squad. And for your information, I wasn’t even talking to Blaine. I was talking to Quinn.”
Puck does look at him then, frowning in that confused way that Kurt hates himself a little for finding sort of adorable. “What did she want?”
“To gloat, mostly,” Kurt says, leaving out the part where Puck’s sort-of-ex sort of threatened him.
Puck opens his mouth to answer, but when Kurt shakes his head and moves a little closer, he changes his mind and closes his mouth again. Kurt swallows and reaches for his hand, fingers threading together and when Puck doesn’t try to pull away, Kurt takes a deep breath and forces himself to meet Puck’s gaze.
“I love you. You have to know that by now.”
When Puck’s eyes go wide Kurt can see that no, he didn’t know. Which is fair, considering Kurt didn’t really know until a few minutes ago. But now that he does it seems important to tell Puck, and if it finally scares him off…well, there’s really nothing Kurt can do about that.
“You love me.”
“Yes,” Kurt says, his wings fluttering nervously behind him, but he inches a little closer anyway. “You really couldn’t tell?”
Puck shrugs, but he tightens his grip on Kurt’s hand and pulls him close to run his other hand along the ridge of his wing. “I knew your wings had a thing for me, but I wasn’t so sure the rest of you felt the same.”
“Honestly, they’re not sentient,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes, but he can’t quite hide his grin.
“I have no clue what that word means,” Puck says, but before Kurt has a chance to define it for him, Puck’s tugging him forward to kiss him. A hand slides into Kurt’s hair, another one landing on his back to grip the joint of his wing. The kiss starts out soft, but when Kurt sighs against his mouth Puck takes the in, tongue pushing past Kurt’s teeth and dragging Kurt forward until their chests are pressed together.
“Babe,” Puck murmurs, mouthing his way down Kurt’s jaw to suck hot kisses into his neck. “I’m so damn crazy about you.”
“Good,” Kurt says, then he tilts his neck to give Puck better access. “So what do you say we blow off the rest of the party?”
“Oh, hell, yes,” Puck answers, pulling back to look at Kurt with eyes blown wide with lust. “Whatever you want.”
It’s not the first time Puck’s said that to him. It’s not even the first time he’s meant it, but it’s the first time Kurt’s really let himself believe it. Until now he’s been telling himself that none of this is real, that eventually Puck will come to his senses and realize that fate doesn’t actually exist and that he’s free to leave Kurt behind and get on with his life.
But Puck’s not kissing him like he’s planning to go anywhere, and when Kurt pulls away to breathe against Puck’s neck, Puck’s hand strokes down his feathers like he can’t bear to stop touching.
“I just want you,” Kurt says, whispering the words against Puck’s skin, and he’s not even sure Puck hears him until Puck pulls back to look at him.
“Good,” he says, voice fierce, and Kurt swallows against a shudder and surges forward to kiss him again.
“So let’s go home.”
“Yeah,” Puck says, lips brushing Kurt’s one last time before he pulls back and runs a thumb along Kurt’s jaw. “I like the sound of that.”
~
They manage to make it into the house without running into his dad or Carole, and Kurt takes Puck’s hand and pulls him up the stairs to his bedroom. Their bedroom, Kurt thinks, smiling to himself as he waits for Puck to close the door.
When he does Kurt slides his arms around Puck’s neck, tugging him close and leaning in to press their lips together. The kiss starts out soft, slow and lazy, because they really do have all the time in the world, as it turns out. And Kurt’s planning to make the most of it, because wings or not, he loves Puck.
In a million years he wouldn’t have predicted any of this, but it just goes to show that maybe Puck’s theory about the universe intervening isn’t so crazy after all. It’s obvious that Kurt wouldn’t have figured it out on his own, just like it’s obvious that this is exactly where he belongs, so maybe he really did need an extra-hard shove in the right direction.
The wings seem a little showy, granted, but Kurt’s been into showy for most of his life, so even that makes a weird sort of sense. He laughs against Puck’s mouth and pulls back to look at him, hand curving around his cheek and just looking for a few seconds.
“Maybe I didn’t have enough information to make the right choice when all this started,” he says, thumb tracing the line of Puck’s jaw, “but knowing what I know now, I would choose you.”
The sound Puck makes goes straight to Kurt’s cock, then Puck surges forward to kiss him hard. His hands are on Kurt’s hips to pull him even closer, and when Kurt feels Puck’s erection through his jeans he moans and drags Puck backwards toward the bed.
Together they manage to get their clothes off, tripping over shoes and leaving a trail of fabric from the door to the bed as they strip without ever letting go of one another. It’s less than graceful, and by the time Kurt’s thighs hit the bed he’s laughing against Puck’s mouth again.
Puck pulls back to grin at him and Kurt’s heart clenches at the sight, wings flapping once before they fold neatly against his back so Kurt can stretch out on the mattress and drag Puck down on top of him.
“Babe, shouldn’t we…” Puck says, hands on Kurt’s hips as though he’s thinking about dragging Kurt up off the mattress again.
Instead of answering Kurt just shakes his head, then he hooks a leg around Puck’s thighs to pull him flush against Kurt’s body. “They’re fine. Unless you really do want to be alone with them.”
Puck huffs a laugh against Kurt’s mouth and kisses him again, soft and slow and by the time he lets Kurt up for air, Kurt’s arching against him and digging his heel into the back of Puck’s leg. It gets him a low groan, the one that makes Kurt’s whole body flush, then Puck’s shifting his weight and reaching behind Kurt’s knees to push his legs up and apart.
They haven’t done this before, mostly because Puck seems to like being able to touch Kurt’s wings whenever he wants. And Kurt’s not going to deny that they’re sensitive to Puck’s touch, but right now he wants it to be just the two of them, no wings to distract him or make Kurt doubt that this is anything other than as real as Puck claims it is.
Slick fingers slide inside him, opening him up and making Kurt moan and push down for more. When he looks up Puck’s eyes are dark, his jaw clenched as though he’s working hard to hold back whatever he’s feeling. And that’s the last thing Kurt wants, so he leans up far enough to kiss Puck hard, then he murmurs Puck, please against his mouth.
Puck nods and reaches for a condom, slick hands stroking his cock a few times before he lines himself up and pushes into tight heat. Kurt’s lips part on a breathy sigh, neck long and flushed and he has a feeling his feathers are going to be a mess later. He has a feeling Puck’s going to enjoy saying “I told you so,” but it’s worth it to watch Puck braced above him, muscles taut and pushing into Kurt slow.
He’s still taking his time, angling his hips a little with each lazy thrust, listening to every sound Kurt makes until he finds the spot that makes Kurt gasp and clench around him. As soon as he finds it he does it again, over and over until they’re both breathing hard, Kurt whining low in his throat and pushing down one last time to bury Puck as deep as he can get while he comes.
And now he knows his wings are a mess, but he doesn’t care, because Puck’s still moving, shallow little thrusts of his hips while he waits out Kurt’s orgasm. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and Kurt grips Puck’s shoulders hard and pulls him forward until Puck’s kissing him.
He bottoms out inside Kurt, hitting that spot that’s way too sensitive now and setting off a fresh burst of sparks behind Kurt’s eyes. When he does Kurt gasps and clenches around him, and that’s all it takes to drag Puck’s orgasm out of him.
Puck collapses on top of him, heavy and solid and way too hot, and Kurt wraps his arms around Puck’s shoulders and holds on as tight as he can. His wings are stretched sort of uncomfortably, but he ignores it and lifts his chin to let Puck press his face to Kurt’s neck, sighing at the brush of warm lips against his skin.
“Say it again,” Puck murmurs, so soft that at first Kurt’s not really sure he’s said anything at all.
“I love you.”
As soon as he says it Puck pulls back to look at him, and when Kurt sees his expression his heart pounds hard against his chest.
“Yeah, me too,” Puck says, and it’s not like Kurt didn’t already know how he felt, but hearing it out loud makes a difference anyway.
Then Puck’s kissing him again, pulling him forward and turning them until Kurt’s stretched across his chest and his wings are free. Puck’s fingers slide through his feathers while they kiss, carefully straightening them without even having to look, and Kurt knows he’s never going to get enough of this.
~
Kurt wakes to hot breath on his neck and a heavy arm draped across his waist. There’s a pleasant ache in every inch of his body, and he stretches and turns under Puck’s arm to face him. For a few moments he just watches Puck sleep, remembering the things Puck whispered last night and blushing bright and hot.
When he realizes what he’s doing Kurt laughs to himself and leans in to brush a kiss against Puck’s shoulder, but when he just murmurs in his sleep and rolls onto his back, Kurt sighs and climbs out of bed. He leaves Puck sleeping and heads for the bathroom, humming to himself as he pulls on a clean pair of pajama bottoms and goes through his morning routine.
His wings flap contentedly behind him, and Kurt rolls his eyes affectionately and lets himself out of the bathroom. Puck’s still fast asleep, so Kurt climbs back onto the bed to straddle his thighs. He leans over, letting his wings stretch out behind him as he brushes his lips against Puck’s.
For a few moments he thinks he’s going to have to resort to more drastic measures to wake Puck, but when he pulls back Puck blinks his eyes open to look up at him. “Morning.”
“Hey,” Puck says, sleepy and thick and Kurt feels it curling warm in his stomach. Puck’s hands land on Kurt’s back, sliding along warm skin to bury his fingers in the soft down of his feathers. "You going somewhere?"
He waits for the familiar rush of anxiety that comes with even the thought of leaving Puck lately, but it never surfaces. Instead Kurt just feels warm and happy, wings fluttering contentedly under Puck's touch.
"Not far. I thought I might let you sleep and go get some coffee before it's all gone."
"I’m awake now," Puck says, but his eyes are on Kurt's wings where they're still stretched behind him. "Something's different, babe."
"What?" Kurt asks, craning his head to try to see whatever Puck's looking at, but all he can see is the usual blur of white.
"Your feathers, it's like they're a different color. Paler, maybe."
Kurt's not sure it's possible to get more pale than the pure, snowy white of his wings, but when he grabs the tip of one and drags it around to look, he thinks he can see what Puck means. It's not so much that they're pale as they're...translucent. Less solid somehow, though they feel just as real as ever. They're sort of shimmery, like oil on the water's surface, and for a second Kurt wonders if he got something on them at the shop.
But if he had there would be dark streaks of oil on his feathers somewhere, and as far as he can tell, nothing’s different except that his wings have changed color.
“What now?” he mutters, exasperated, but the truth is he’s a little worried, too, because if his dad notices the difference he’ll probably try to drag Kurt back to the hospital again.
A pair of warm hands land on his hips, easing him backwards until Puck can sit up. He pushes until Kurt takes the hint and climbs off him, then Puck’s kneeling on the mattress behind him and running his hands over Kurt’s wings.
“Do they feel any different?”
“No,” Kurt answers, frowning as he focuses on Puck’s touch in case there is a difference and he just hasn’t noticed it yet. “If anything I feel better than I have. Less anxious.”
“Yeah,” Puck says, as though he already knew that, and Kurt supposed he would be able to tell. “Maybe this is supposed to happen.”
“What do you mean?” Kurt asks, glancing over his shoulder to watch Puck’s thumb slide along the ridge of his right wing.
“I’m just saying, if this whole thing happened just to clue us in that we’re supposed to be together, maybe you had to admit it before they could show up the way they’re supposed to.”
“Are you saying you think my wings changed color because I told you I love you?”
Puck’s lips brush across his shoulder when he says it, and Kurt feels a warm tug in the center of his chest edging out the panic that blossomed when he realized his wings really had changed.
“You got a better explanation?”
“I could think of a few, but yours is the least painful scenario,” Kurt admits. He’s already imagining his wings mutating again, growing until there’s no way to hide them, or worse, becoming so painful even Puck won’t be able to touch them anymore.
As soon as he thinks it Puck’s fingers slide through his feathers, then his hands leave Kurt’s wings to slide around his waist and pull him back against Puck’s chest. “Relax, babe. I’m
telling you, this was supposed to happen.”
Kurt huffs a soft laugh, but the truth is that he sort of wants to believe it. He likes the idea of being destined for this -- destined for Puck -- even if it doesn’t really mean anything.
His hand covers Puck’s where it’s resting on his stomach, fingers sliding together and holding on tight.
“What if they keep changing?”
Puck brushes a kiss against his neck this time, and Kurt sighs and lets his head fall back against Puck’s shoulder. “Doesn’t matter, babe. You’ll still be just as hot.”
This wasn’t how Kurt planned to start his morning, especially with his entire family downstairs. But Puck’s sucking on his neck now, the hand on his stomach inching lower and Kurt gasps and turns in Puck’s grip to kiss him. He feels Puck chuckle against his mouth, smiles in answer and doesn’t complain when Puck hooks his thumbs in Kurt’s pajama pants and slides them down his hips.
He lets Puck pull him back down onto the mattress, sprawled on top of Puck and settling between his legs to rock their hips together. It’s slow and lazy and sort of frustrating, but Puck’s hands are moving everywhere, pulling them together and murmuring Kurt’s name against his mouth and he can’t bring himself to pull away even to speed things up.
So Kurt just kisses Puck over and over, nipping at his bottom lip until Puck’s moaning and pushing up even harder against him. When that’s not enough anymore Kurt works a hand between them, sliding his fingers along the slick at the tip of his own cock before he closes his hand around Puck. It gets him another moan, then Puck’s pushing him onto his side and pulling back to stare at Kurt while he licks his palm and closes his hand around Kurt’s dick.
They come almost at the same time, mouths pressed together to swallow the sounds of more and more frantic moans until Puck tenses in his grip and thrusts hard into the circle of Kurt’s fist. His fingers close tight around Kurt’s cock, and that’s all it takes to pull Kurt over the edge, panting Puck’s name against his lips and coating his fingers and his stomach in wet heat.
Once he catches his breath Kurt reaches for the sheet to clean them off, making a mental note to find time for laundry when Carole’s not around to try to talk him into letting her do it for him. He lets Puck pull him close to kiss him again, and when Puck lets him up for air Kurt smiles and curves his hand around Puck’s cheek.
“I suppose if they turn rainbow colored at least I’ll be all set for the next Pride Parade.”
Puck snorts a laugh and runs his hand up Kurt’s back to push through the soft feathers at the joints. “You in a crowd full of gay dudes with these? I’m not sure even I could fight off that many people.”
Kurt rolls his eyes, but there’s nothing he can do about the way his cheeks flush. “You know you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Yeah,” Puck says, then he kisses Kurt again, and when his hand slides down Kurt’s back to curve around his ass, Kurt blushes harder and pulls away.
“We can’t stay in bed all day,” he says, but he wishes they could. Still, Puck’s supposed to go into the shop for awhile, and for once the thought of it doesn’t leave Kurt feeling oddly bereft.
He reaches down to tug his pajamas back up, then he climbs out of bed and looks down at Puck. His wings flutter at the sight of Puck stretched out on the mattress, but when they try to propel him forward, Kurt digs his heels in and stands his ground. “I’m going to see if there’s any coffee left.”
“What, no shower?” Puck calls after him, but Kurt just rolls his eyes and lets himself out of the bedroom. He knows as well as Puck that if they get in the shower together that he’ll definitely be late for work, and Kurt’s father might be Puck’s boss, but that doesn’t mean he’ll put up with Kurt making one of his employees late every morning.
Kurt’s smiling to himself as he reaches the kitchen, wings fluttering softly behind him at the memory of Puck’s face when Kurt told him he didn’t have to worry about other men. When he reaches the kitchen Finn’s the only one there, head in the fridge and pulling out the lunch his mother packed for him.
“Morning,” Kurt says as he heads for the coffee pot, and if he sounds a little happier than usual, he’s fairly confident Finn won’t notice.
“You left your jacket at Schue’s place, bro,” Finn says, but when Kurt looks over at him his eyes are wide. “Dude.”
Kurt frowns, because it’s just a jacket, but when he realizes Finn’s staring at a point over his shoulders Kurt forgets the jacket altogether. “What?”
“Your wings. They’re…gone.”
“What are you talking about?” Kurt asks, his wings fluttering softly behind him. He can feel them, so he knows they’re still there, but he reaches out and runs a hand over his feathers anyway, just to be sure.
“I mean they’re not there,” Finn says, then he frowns and tilts his head to one side like a big, dumb dog. “There were still there last night, right? I mean, you guys bailed so early I didn’t really get a chance to talk to you, but it seemed like they were still there.”
“They’re still there now,” Kurt answers, glancing over his shoulder at the familiar blur of soft white down. He knows they’re still there, because Puck was touching them not ten minutes ago, and unless they’re having some sort of shared delusion, Finn’s the one who’s losing it here.
Finn’s still frowning at him when the kitchen door opens again, and Kurt looks up to find his dad frozen with his hand on the door. “Son?”
“See?” Finn says, gesturing toward Kurt’s back where his wings are still fluttering languidly, as though there’s nothing wrong at all. “They’re gone. Tell him.”
“They’re not gone,” Kurt says, scowling at first Finn and then his dad. “I can feel them.”
His dad’s gaze shifts to Kurt’s hand where it’s still gripping his feathers, frowning before he looks back up at Kurt again. “There’s nothing there, Kurt.”
“I’m not crazy, Dad.”
“Nobody’s saying you are,” his dad says, but it’s clear by the way he’s staring at Kurt that he’s considering the possibility.
Before Kurt can answer Puck appears in the kitchen door, frowning at the sight of Kurt and his dad staring at each other across the room. “What’s the problem?”
At the sound of Puck’s voice his wings flap once, arching up over his shoulders as though they’re bent on making their presence known. Kurt watches Puck follow the movement with his eyes, and when he realizes Puck can still see them, relief grips him so hard he has to flap his wings again to keep himself from stumbling backwards.
“Puck can still see them. Can’t you?”
“See what?” Puck asks, and Kurt’s not even aware of how important it is to him that Puck can see them until Puck frowns as though they’ve all gone crazy.
“Dude, his wings are gone,” Finn says, as though it should be obvious, and apparently it should, at least as far as his dad and Finn are concerned.
“No, they’re not,” Puck answers, and Kurt lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I mean, yeah, they’re a little lighter, but you can still see them fine.”
“I can’t,” Finn says, and Kurt would laugh at how put out he sounds if he wasn’t so busy being relieved that Puck can still see them.
Kurt’s not even sure why he’s so happy that his wings aren’t actually gone, but he knows how much Puck likes them, and if they’re going to stick around, Puck might as well be able to see them too.
“Are you boys saying that Kurt’s got invisible wings now?” his dad says, and okay, when he puts it that way, it does sound a little crazy.
But there’s no other explanation, because they can’t both be hallucinating. Kurt’s wings flutter as if in agreement, but he ignores them and takes a step forward. “I know it’s hard to believe, Dad, but they’re still there. I don’t know why no one else can see them.”
His dad nods slowly, and Kurt wonders if he’s just humoring them. “Maybe we should call the doctor again.”
“Why?” Kurt asks, the question coming out a little angrier than he planned, but he’s tired of doctors. He’s been tired of them for weeks now, and the last thing he needs is another night in the hospital spent being poked and prodded. “They couldn’t do anything when they could see my wings, so there’s no reason to think they’ll have any answers now.”
“I know you don’t like feeling like a science experiment, son, but if your wings are...invisible, then maybe other things have changed too.”
Until his dad says it, Kurt doesn’t even consider the possibility that this change in his wings might mean he can touch other people again. He steals another glance at Puck, watching his eyebrows go up before he shrugs.
“There’s an easier way to find out.”
He takes another step as he says it, then another, until he’s standing right in front of his dad. “Son, what...?”
That’s as far as he gets before Kurt reaches out, a hand landing on his father’s arm. He braces himself for the flash of pain he hasn’t felt in weeks, vaguely aware of Puck moving toward him in anticipation, but the pain never comes. He takes a breath, then another, and when it still doesn’t hurt, he reaches out with his other hand and grabs his dad’s shoulder this time.
Still nothing, and when Kurt realizes he’s touching his father with no pain at all, he lets out a laugh that catches in his throat and drags his dad into a hug.
“Kurt?” his dad says, but his arms are already sliding around Kurt, resting right over his wings, and it’s strange that his father can’t feel them, but he doesn’t seem to realize there’s still there. “You’re okay?”
Kurt nods against his shoulder, blinking a few times against the stinging in his eyes, and when his dad pulls back to look at him it’s all Kurt can do not to drag him forward again. “Are you sure you don’t want to call the doctor?”
“I’m sure, Dad,” Kurt says, and he has a feeling he’s smiling like a moron, but he can’t bring himself to care. “I’m fine. Better than fine, honestly.”
He can tell his dad wants to argue, but he knows as well as Kurt does that there’s nothing the doctors can do. They’ve been saying as much since all this started, even while they were using him as a pincushion. Finally his dad nods, then he takes a deep breath and claps Kurt on the shoulder one last time before he lets him go.
“It’s still your call, son. But if anything else changes...”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Kurt says, and it’s not exactly true, because Puck will be the first to know, but it’s close enough to the truth. His dad nods again, anyway, then he glances at his watch.
“I need to go open up the shop. I guess I’ll see you boys there,” he says, glancing at Finn and Puck.
When they nod he lets himself out of the kitchen, and Puck waits until he’s sure his dad’s gone to turn back to Kurt. “You think he’ll still want me to work for him if you’re back to normal?”
“Mostly normal,” Kurt says, smiling when his wings flutter.
“Of course, bro, he still needs somebody to take my hours,” Finn says, reminding Kurt that his stepbrother’s still standing behind him. Kurt glances over his shoulder at Finn, watching him look between Kurt and Puck as though he’s trying to figure something out.
“Finn’s right,” Kurt says when he turns back to Puck. “He’s still leaving, and Dad’s still going to be a man down. Now that I appear to have my life back, I don’t intend to spend it fixing engines and constantly battling grease under my nails.”
He sees Puck’s slow grin, feels his ears heating up because he knows exactly how much Puck enjoys watching him in the shop, and he doesn’t need to be reminded in front of Finn. Then again, it might be worth it to spend the rest of the year working for his father if Puck’s going to keep looking at him that way, and when Kurt feels his wings stretch he knows Puck can tell exactly what he’s thinking.
He’s three seconds away from dragging Puck out of the kitchen and back upstairs when Finn clears his throat behind him, and Kurt flushes harder when he remembers that they’re not alone.
“I’m glad you’re back to normal, bro,” Finn says, over-large hand landing on Kurt’s shoulder and squeezing. His arm brushes the tip of Kurt’s wings, and it’s weird to feel someone else touch them after so long, but Finn doesn’t seem to notice.
“Thank you, Finn,” Kurt says, still blushing, and Finn grins and then heads out of the kitchen to get ready for work.
Once he’s gone Kurt turns back to Puck, watching as he crosses the room to reach out and slide a hand around the back of Kurt’s neck. “So?”
“So?” Kurt repeats, hands landing on Puck’s hips to pull him closer.
“So are you gonna admit I was right or what?”
Kurt rolls his eyes, because of course the first thing Puck wants to do is say ‘I told you so’. But he’s got a point, and Kurt’s mature enough to admit when he’s wrong.
“Fine, you may have had a point. Though I still don’t believe there’s some higher power out there conspiring to get us together.”
“Why else would I still be able to see them when no one else can?” Puck asks, his free hand landing on the ridge of Kurt’s wing to trace along the curve. “Come on, babe. We’re perfect together, just admit it.”
“I’m not denying that we make a strange sort of sense.” Kurt presses forward into Puck’s body heat, arms sliding around his waist and pushing up under his shirt to flatten his palms against warm skin.
“Yeah, and if none of this had happened, you never would have figured it out.”
He’s not wrong about that, either, but Kurt doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to dwell on where he might have ended up if he hadn’t been more or less forced together with Puck, because as soon as he does his throat starts to close up and he has to swallow hard and press his face into Puck’s shoulder. Instantly the hand on the back of his neck squeezes a little, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to know that Puck can still sense what he’s feeling.
“Whatever the reason, I’m grateful it happened,” Kurt says, then he pulls back to look at Puck.
“Yeah, me too,” Puck answers. His fingers are still moving in Kurt’s feathers, stroking the soft down and sending little shivers of pleasure down Kurt’s spine. “I know this wasn’t part of your plan or anything…”
“Plans change,” Kurt interrupts, and when he smiles Puck lets out a soft laugh. “I mean it, Puck. I’m glad it happened. And now that I don’t have to stay locked up like some princess in a tower, things will only get better. We can have a life. Both of us. Together.”
Puck nods and buries his hands in Kurt’s wings, then he leans in to press a kiss to the side of Kurt’s neck. “I like the sound of that.”
~
In the end Puck leaves for work half an hour late and only slightly distracted. Kurt insists on dropping him off, mainly because he can actually leave the house for the first time in months without worrying about who he might run into. When he slides behind the wheel this time it feels different; his wings aren’t quite so distracting, and he doesn’t have to struggle to find a comfortable position to let him drive.
“You sure this is a good idea?” Puck asks when they pull up in front of the shop, leaning across the console to steal a kiss in spite of who might be able to see them.
“I’ll be fine,” Kurt answers, hand on Puck’s cheek and holding him close for a moment before he lets Puck pull away.
Puck nods, just looking at Kurt for a few seconds, then he turns to climb out of the car. When he gets to the door of the shop he glances back at Kurt, raising his hand to wave, and Kurt grins and waves back before he pulls out of the parking lot and heads across town.
His first stop is the Lima Bean, where he has to make vague excuses to the baristas who still recognize him about a long-term illness. They spend more time fussing over him than Kurt’s comfortable with, but they comp his mocha, and they seem happy to see him again. After that he calls Mercedes to tell her the news, then he heads for the mall and spends some time browsing the racks at Macy’s just because he can.
The first time he accidentally brushes against someone in the coffee shop he tenses, but there’s no sudden wave of burning pain. There’s not even a twinge; there’s nothing at all, and Kurt’s heart beats a little faster when it finally sinks in that he really does have his life back.
He has his family and he has Puck, and now he has a future too. He can move forward with his plans to go to New York if he wants to; the only difference now is that instead of worrying about Blaine’s role in his future, he’ll be making plans with Puck. Granted, they haven’t actually discussed what happens next, but only because there hasn’t been time.
Kurt swallows a rush of nerves, glancing around the department store that suddenly feels a little claustrophobic. It’s been a long time since he was out in public, and he didn’t expect it to bother him, but now that he’s standing alone in the middle of Macy’s he wishes he’d waited until Puck could be here too.
He tries to imagine Puck following him around Macy’s while he browses the racks, wings stirring under his shirt at the image as though they think it’s sort of funny too. He flexes his shoulders experimentally, but his shirt doesn’t feel any tighter than it used to before he had invisible wings, and so far he hasn’t caught any strangers staring at his back as though they’re wondering if he’s got some kind of deformity.
So maybe Puck’s right and all he had to do was admit he really does want Puck, regardless of whether or not he needs him, in order to get his wings to realize their full potential. Kurt contemplates another attempt at flight and laughs to himself, then he sets the shirt he’s holding back on the rack and heads out of the store before anyone starts looking at him like he’s crazy.
He stops and picks up some takeout, then he points the Navigator back across town to his dad’s shop. When he gets there Puck’s backing a car out of the bay and into a parking spot, then he climbs out of the driver’s seat. He looks up and spots Kurt almost immediately, surprise quickly melting into a grin when Kurt crosses the lot to stop in front of him.
“What’s up?” Puck asks, hand on Kurt’s arm and sort of sliding along his sleeve. “You need a fix or something?”
As he says it Puck’s grin turns a little feral, and Kurt blushes and catches the hand that’s still resting on his arm. “Not that it’s not tempting, but the truth is I just stopped by to bring you lunch.”
And okay, maybe he did want to see Puck after the weirdness in Macy’s, but it’s not the same as when they were apart and Kurt’s chest ached so much he could hardly breathe. It doesn’t feel like he’s going to die if he doesn’t get as close as possible to Puck right this second; instead Kurt just...misses him, the same way he used to miss Blaine when he was still at Dalton and Kurt was back at McKinley.
“Yeah?” Puck says, taking the bag Kurt holds out to him without letting go of Kurt’s hand. “Thanks, babe.”
Kurt smiles and lets Puck lead him into the shop, past his dad’s office to the small room with a tiny table that passes for a break room. He watches while Puck pulls containers out of the bag Kurt brought him, and when he passes Kurt a Coke he wraps his hands around it and looks at Puck.
“Before all this happened, I was planning to move to New York.”
Puck doesn’t look back at him, but Kurt sees the way Puck’s hand freezes on the bag for a second before he nods and crumples it into a tight ball. “Yeah, Finn mentioned something about that.”
“I thought I was going to have to give up that dream,” Kurt continues, still watching Puck’s jaw as it clenches and then releases. “But now that it looks as though things are getting back to normal...I guess what I’m wondering is, would you consider going to New York with me? Not right away. If I get into NYADA it won’t be until next year, and even then...”
“You mean that?” Puck interrupts, finally looking up at Kurt. “You want me to go with you?”
“Of course I do.” Kurt doesn’t roll his eyes, but he wants to, because Puck really can be an idiot sometimes. “You said yourself there was nothing keeping you here, right?”
For a second Puck just looks at him, then he leans over and plants a hard kiss on Kurt’s lips. “Just you, babe.”
“So does that mean you’ll go?”
“Yeah,” Puck says, the words warm against Kurt’s mouth as he leans in for another kiss. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go.”
The truth is that Kurt’s not positive what he wants anymore; a lot has changed over the summer, and even though he’s got his life back, he knows nothing will ever be quite the same again. Still, he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t at least try to make his dreams happen, and as long as Puck’s by his side, Kurt has a feeling everything will work out just the way it’s supposed to.
fin
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Puck (Kurt/Blaine)
Rating: NC17
Word count: ~60,000 overall; ~9,500 for this part
Summary: When people can’t see what’s standing right in front of them, sometimes the universe resorts to drastic measures. This is one of those times. So AU. So, so AU. Also, wingfic.
A/N: I apologize for the delay with the ending. Not only did I have company over the weekend, but I struggled harder with this last part than I expected. For better or worse it's done now, and I hope it was worth the wait. This was given a once-over by jengeorge, but she's got her own stuff going on, so we both probably missed things. Also she hasn't actually seen the last part, so that much is definitely unbetaed. You can read the entire thing at AO3, if you prefer.
The subject doesn’t come up again over the weekend, but Kurt can feel it hovering between them, his wings fluttering nervously every time he catches Puck looking at him a certain way. The hollow, anxious feeling settles in the center of his chest and stays, even when Puck’s right there with him, and Kurt has no idea how to make it go away.
In the past all it would take was a touch from Puck, just a kiss or a hand sliding into his feathers, and his whole body would relax. But since that night at the shop the feeling never quite goes away, and by the time Sunday rolls around Kurt’s so on edge that all he wants to do is climb inside Puck until he can’t tell where one of them ends and the other begins.
Just a few days ago he wouldn’t have hesitated, and he would have been confident that Puck wouldn’t have any complaints at all. But Puck’s been uncharacteristically quiet since their conversation in the shop, and there’s a part of Kurt that keeps expecting Puck to announce that he’s had enough and he’s going back to his life before Kurt crash-landed in the middle of it.
Kurt wouldn’t even blame him, because it’s not as though he has anything to offer. There’s sex, sure, but Puck’s never had a problem in that department. If he left he wouldn’t have any trouble finding someone else to share a bed with, and unlike Kurt, he wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not he could touch them without causing himself severe pain.
He can leave whenever he wants, and if he feels a little of Kurt’s residual pain, it probably won’t even take him that long to learn to ignore it. The thought makes Kurt’s chest ache even more, but he does his best to ignore it and focus on the cracked radiator in front of him.
They’ve been working in the shop for a few hours now, taking advantage of the lack of customers and other mechanics around on Sunday to spend a few hours working together. Except that Puck’s mostly been ignoring Kurt, head buried in the car Kurt’s dad has him working on. He’s asked a couple questions, but other than that he’s been pretending Kurt’s not even there.
Kurt knows it’s his own fault. He just doesn’t know how to fix it, because he can’t take back any of the things he said. He can’t go back and notice Puck noticing him, and he can’t erase the fact that until he sprouted wings, he’d thought he was perfectly happy with Blaine.
He was perfectly happy, but he’d had no idea what he was missing, either, and now that he knows how Puck can make him feel, Kurt doesn’t want to give it up. He doesn’t want to lose it, but he’s afraid to say the wrong thing again and finally push Puck away for good. So he keeps his mouth shut and he works on the radiator his dad never got around to yesterday, and if he glances over his shoulder at Puck a little more often than strictly necessary, it’s not hurting anyone.
“Hey,” Puck says, glancing up from whatever it is he’s doing, and Kurt drops what he’s doing and crosses the garage to stand next to him.
“What is it?” he asks, and if he presses his shoulder against Puck’s, it’s just because there’s not that much room to see what’s going on with the engine.
And okay, technically it doesn’t really matter what’s going on with the engine, because the car Puck’s working on is just an old junker his dad’s letting him practice with. But Kurt’s supposed to be helping him learn, and if Puck has a question, the least he can do is answer it.
“I was just gonna ask if you were ready to break for lunch.”
“Oh,” Kurt says, his whole face flushing, and he doesn’t miss the way Puck smirks at him. But he doesn’t pull away, either, and Kurt decides to take that as a good sign. “Sure.”
He follows Puck to his dad’s office, heading for the small fridge and pulling out the lunch Carole insisted on packing for them before they left the house. He hands Puck a sandwich and a Coke before he unzips his coveralls, easing his arms out of the sleeves and letting the fabric fall around his waist to set his wings free.
They stretch to their full length and flap hard against his shoulders, and Kurt lets out a relieved sigh and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again Puck’s watching him, his expression dark and before he knows it Kurt’s moving forward. His wings flap again, and Kurt knows by now that they’re trying to steer him closer to Puck.
It’s not as though Puck hasn’t touched him since their…well, not an argument, exactly, but that’s what it feels like. They went home that same night and Kurt let Puck peel off his coveralls, making jokes the whole time about lube jobs, and it would have been perfect if it hadn’t felt a little like they were both trying to prove that everything was fine.
He lets his wings propel him forward, taking a seat next to Puck on the couch that’s been in his dad’s office for as long as Kurt can remember. Their shoulders press together and Kurt feels his wings flutter at the contact, and when they stretch out and brush against Puck’s back Kurt doesn’t try to stop them. Puck shifts next to him and Kurt braces himself for the moment he pulls away, but instead he reaches behind Kurt to slide a hand up the center of his back.
His fingers stroke the soft down at the base of Kurt’s wings, sending little shivers of pleasure along Kurt’s wings. For a moment Puck just watches them vibrating under his touch, eyes wide as though he hasn’t seen them do it dozens of times by now. It’s sort of sweet, so Kurt doesn’t roll his eyes as he turns into Puck and presses their lips together.
“We can bail on the party, if you want,” Puck says, murmuring the words against Kurt’s mouth.
Kurt pulls back far enough to look at him, and he wants to say yes, that they should just stay home where it’s safe. Where it’s just them, except that it’s always just them, and he can’t keep asking Puck to give up everything to keep him company.
“It’s all right. It’ll be nice to see everyone.”
Just for a second Puck’s expression clouds, and Kurt wonders if that was the wrong answer. But a second later Puck blinks and it’s gone, and he tells himself he just imagined it. He must have, because the party was Puck’s idea in the first place.
Puck shrugs like it’s no big deal, but he pulls away until not even their shoulders are touching and turns back to his lunch. It leaves Kurt feeling more hollow than ever, but he doesn’t know how to say so without sounding completely pathetic, so he lets Puck pull away and he tries to pretend that it doesn’t bother him.
~
When they get to Mr. Schuester’s place most of New Directions is already there. Kurt can’t deny that he’s a little nervous about being around so many people for the first time since graduation, even if it is just his friends. But he can’t say so without admitting that there’s a part of him that wishes they’d stayed home, so he keeps his mouth shut and follows Puck up the stairs to Mr. Schue’s door.
He sort of expects Puck to ditch him as soon as they get there; he’s still more or less giving Kurt the silent treatment, brooding about something he doesn’t seem to want to talk about. But as soon as Schue opens the door and grins at them Puck’s arm slides around his shoulders, fingers absently stroking Kurt’s jacket where his wings are folded against his back.
“Guys, it’s great to see you,” Schue says, and he sounds like he means it. Kurt can’t deny that it’s sort of nice to see him too, even if it’s a little weird to be attending a going away party for his stepbrother at their former teacher’s house.
Miss Pillsbury doesn’t look quite as thrilled about the company, but Kurt suspects that has something to do with the fact that half the people in her apartment will still be attending McKinley next year. And he can see where she’s coming from, but she’s the one who agreed to marry Mr. Schuester, so she’s going to have to get used to his more-than-occasional bouts of inappropriate behavior where New Directions is concerned.
As soon as they walk in most of the room turns to look at them, and Kurt tries not to notice the way everyone’s eyes go straight to his shoulders, but it’s impossible not to see it. He doesn’t blame them; it’s natural to be curious, and most of them haven’t seen the wings since he was in the hospital for the first time, if they’ve seen them at all.
They definitely haven’t seen Puck with his arm around Kurt, holding Kurt against his side as though he’s worried that someone might try to touch him. Kurt’s fairly sure no one here would do that, at least not on purpose, but he’s grateful for the familiar weight of Puck’s arm on his shoulders all the same.
“You keeping this on?” Puck asks, hand sliding along Kurt’s jacket again, and Kurt shrugs and turns to look at him.
“I suppose we might as well get it over with.”
Puck grins at him, and for a second Kurt thinks he might lean in for a kiss. But all Puck does is let go of Kurt’s shoulders and step behind him, helping him ease his jacket off over his wings. Kurt bites back a sigh when Puck’s fingers slide through his feathers, straightening one here and there until he’s satisfied that everything’s in place.
“Thanks,” Kurt says, glancing over his shoulder to smile at Puck so he won’t have to watch their friends staring at his wings. But he can’t ignore them forever, so finally Kurt takes a deep breath and turns to face the room again.
As soon as he does they all turn away, and Kurt rolls his eyes and turns back to Puck. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.”
“It’s not too late to bail,” Puck says, taking a step forward to rest a hand on Kurt’s waist. “We could pick up some food and drive out to the lake.”
It’s tempting, and Kurt’s about to say yes when the doorbell rings again. Schue crosses the room to pull the door open, and when Kurt glances over he finds himself staring back at Blaine. Instantly he’s aware of Puck’s hands on him, of the way they’re practically chest to chest right in the center of Schue’s living room.
It has to look at least as strange as the wings - probably stranger, because Blaine’s seen the wings more than once - and Kurt blushes and lets his hands drop away from Puck’s chest. As soon as he does Puck turns to look at the door, and when he sees Blaine he frowns and lets go of Kurt altogether.
“Puck…”
“Forget it,” Puck says, and now Kurt’s positive that he’s pouting.
He’s gone before Kurt can stop him, crossing the living room to stop in front of Brittany and Santana. If he’s trying to make Kurt jealous…well, it’s kind of working, especially when Brittany reaches out and runs a hand along his back as though she’s checking to see if Puck’s got a matching set of wings hidden somewhere.
Kurt’s wings give an agitated little flutter as he frowns at the back of Puck’s head, but if Puck can tell he doesn’t let on. He keeps his back to Kurt, anyway, laughing at something Brittany says and pretending he has no idea that Kurt’s staring a hole in the back of his head.
He feels someone stop next to him and tenses automatically, his wings folding in close as Kurt looks over to find Quinn standing next to him. She’s the last person Kurt’s expecting; the truth is he hasn’t really thought about her since graduation, and he definitely didn’t expect her to seek him out and hand him a glass of what he assumes is non-alcoholic punch.
“Thank you,” he says, accepting it carefully.
“I heard about you and Puck,” she says, her gaze straying to his wings for a second before she meets his eyes again. “I have to say, I didn’t really believe it.”
“That makes two of us,” Kurt answers, and when she smirks at him he allows himself a smile.
For a minute she doesn’t answer, and he wonders if that’s the end of the conversation. It’s possible she only sought him out for confirmation of the rumor, but if that was all she wanted then surely watching Puck smooth out his feathers would have done the trick.
“Still, it makes a weird sort of sense, if you think about it.”
When Kurt raises an eyebrow in her direction she smirks again, and he remembers why he and Quinn have never been what anyone would call friends.
“Puck needs to be needed; everyone knows that. The fact that he’s the only person in Lima who can touch you…well, that’s about as needed as he can get, isn’t it?”
He supposes he shouldn’t be all that surprised that she knows Puck so well. They share a child, after all, plus there’s that whole sordid history with Finn. For a second he’s gripped by the urge to defend Puck, to insist that wanting to be important to someone is perfectly natural. And it is, but the fact remains that she’s not wrong.
“I’d say if anyone needs anyone, it’s me,” Kurt admits, his wings fluttering indignantly when she laughs.
“It’s almost cute,” she says, and when she smiles at him, he rolls his eyes. “A little pathetic, but cute.”
Kurt fails to see the charm in the fact that Puck’s ignoring the fact that he exists, his back still to them as he talks to Finn and Artie and Sam. His wings flutter against his shoulders and he feels his face heat up, but when Quinn laughs next to him he doesn’t give her the satisfaction of looking at her.
“Look, just don’t break his heart, okay? Underneath it all he’s a decent guy, and he deserves to be happy.”
Kurt does look over at that, frowning when he realizes that she’s actually serious. “Who said anything about anyone’s heart?”
Quinn scowls at him, and when she leans closer he takes a step backwards, wings flapping to keep him from losing his balance. “Please, you’re not fooling anyone. Except maybe yourself.”
She lifts one eyebrow in that menacing way he’d never admit is actually a little intimidating, but before he can come up with an appropriately scathing response, she’s turning her back on him and crossing the room to find someone else to bully. For a few seconds Kurt watches her go, his heart beating in time with the wild fluttering of his wings as he lets her words sink in.
And it’s not as though he didn’t know that he needs Puck, or even that he likes him. They’ve proven that they’re physically compatible, and Kurt’s even come to terms with the fact that he needs Puck. But he hasn’t let himself consider the fact that maybe Puck needs him just as much, and that it might be because of more than just his wings.
“Kurt.”
He flinches at the sound of Blaine’s voice, wings drawing in close as Kurt turns to glance over his shoulder. “Blaine, I’m sorry, I have to…”
That’s as far as he gets before he’s moving forward, crossing the room to stop behind Puck. As soon as he does Finn and Artie and Sam all stop talking to look at him, and when Puck turns around Kurt’s heart lurches into his throat.
“I need to talk to you,” he says, reaching out to grab Puck’s hand. He has no idea where he’s planning to go, because this isn’t his house and he can’t very well drag Puck into Schue’s bedroom to hash out whatever’s going on with them. But his wings won’t stop fluttering, and he knows he has to do something to make this right.
For a second he thinks Puck’s actually going to refuse, but before Kurt has a chance to panic, Puck shrugs and turns away from their friends. “Okay.”
Kurt pulls Puck across the living room before he can change his mind, pausing long enough to open the door and then leading Puck out of Schue’s apartment. He doesn’t think about who might see them, about the fact that his jacket’s still inside and his wings are on full display.
Once they’re outside he drags Puck down the stairs and across the parking lot, pausing long enough to unlock the Navigator before he lets go of Puck’s hand.
“Look, if you’re gonna dump me can we just get it over with?”
It takes a few seconds for Kurt to register Puck’s words, but when he does he frowns and turns to face Puck. “What?”
Puck crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, across the parking lot like he doesn’t want to meet Kurt’s gaze. “You heard me.”
“Why on earth…I’m not trying to break up with you,” Kurt says, and he knows he sounds angry, but mostly he’s just confused. Confused and suddenly aware of the fact that they’re standing outside where anyone might spot him, and he pulls the car door open and glances around to make sure no one’s watching before he climbs inside. “Puck, please.”
Puck lets out an exasperated breath, but he follows Kurt into the back seat of the Navigator. Kurt perches on the seat next to Puck, careful to avoid Puck’s sprawled legs until he figures out what he’s going to say. And that’s the thing, because he’d been so determined to talk to Puck just a few minutes ago, but now that they’re alone he has no idea how to start.
“Why would you think I was going to break up with you?”
“Give me a break, Kurt. The second Blaine walked in you couldn’t get away from me fast enough,” Puck says, scowling at a spot over Kurt’s shoulder.
“Are you serious?” Kurt says, rolling his eyes when he realizes that yes, Puck really does believe what he’s saying. “First of all, it was you who couldn’t wait to get away from me so you could catch up with the cheerleading squad. And for your information, I wasn’t even talking to Blaine. I was talking to Quinn.”
Puck does look at him then, frowning in that confused way that Kurt hates himself a little for finding sort of adorable. “What did she want?”
“To gloat, mostly,” Kurt says, leaving out the part where Puck’s sort-of-ex sort of threatened him.
Puck opens his mouth to answer, but when Kurt shakes his head and moves a little closer, he changes his mind and closes his mouth again. Kurt swallows and reaches for his hand, fingers threading together and when Puck doesn’t try to pull away, Kurt takes a deep breath and forces himself to meet Puck’s gaze.
“I love you. You have to know that by now.”
When Puck’s eyes go wide Kurt can see that no, he didn’t know. Which is fair, considering Kurt didn’t really know until a few minutes ago. But now that he does it seems important to tell Puck, and if it finally scares him off…well, there’s really nothing Kurt can do about that.
“You love me.”
“Yes,” Kurt says, his wings fluttering nervously behind him, but he inches a little closer anyway. “You really couldn’t tell?”
Puck shrugs, but he tightens his grip on Kurt’s hand and pulls him close to run his other hand along the ridge of his wing. “I knew your wings had a thing for me, but I wasn’t so sure the rest of you felt the same.”
“Honestly, they’re not sentient,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes, but he can’t quite hide his grin.
“I have no clue what that word means,” Puck says, but before Kurt has a chance to define it for him, Puck’s tugging him forward to kiss him. A hand slides into Kurt’s hair, another one landing on his back to grip the joint of his wing. The kiss starts out soft, but when Kurt sighs against his mouth Puck takes the in, tongue pushing past Kurt’s teeth and dragging Kurt forward until their chests are pressed together.
“Babe,” Puck murmurs, mouthing his way down Kurt’s jaw to suck hot kisses into his neck. “I’m so damn crazy about you.”
“Good,” Kurt says, then he tilts his neck to give Puck better access. “So what do you say we blow off the rest of the party?”
“Oh, hell, yes,” Puck answers, pulling back to look at Kurt with eyes blown wide with lust. “Whatever you want.”
It’s not the first time Puck’s said that to him. It’s not even the first time he’s meant it, but it’s the first time Kurt’s really let himself believe it. Until now he’s been telling himself that none of this is real, that eventually Puck will come to his senses and realize that fate doesn’t actually exist and that he’s free to leave Kurt behind and get on with his life.
But Puck’s not kissing him like he’s planning to go anywhere, and when Kurt pulls away to breathe against Puck’s neck, Puck’s hand strokes down his feathers like he can’t bear to stop touching.
“I just want you,” Kurt says, whispering the words against Puck’s skin, and he’s not even sure Puck hears him until Puck pulls back to look at him.
“Good,” he says, voice fierce, and Kurt swallows against a shudder and surges forward to kiss him again.
“So let’s go home.”
“Yeah,” Puck says, lips brushing Kurt’s one last time before he pulls back and runs a thumb along Kurt’s jaw. “I like the sound of that.”
~
They manage to make it into the house without running into his dad or Carole, and Kurt takes Puck’s hand and pulls him up the stairs to his bedroom. Their bedroom, Kurt thinks, smiling to himself as he waits for Puck to close the door.
When he does Kurt slides his arms around Puck’s neck, tugging him close and leaning in to press their lips together. The kiss starts out soft, slow and lazy, because they really do have all the time in the world, as it turns out. And Kurt’s planning to make the most of it, because wings or not, he loves Puck.
In a million years he wouldn’t have predicted any of this, but it just goes to show that maybe Puck’s theory about the universe intervening isn’t so crazy after all. It’s obvious that Kurt wouldn’t have figured it out on his own, just like it’s obvious that this is exactly where he belongs, so maybe he really did need an extra-hard shove in the right direction.
The wings seem a little showy, granted, but Kurt’s been into showy for most of his life, so even that makes a weird sort of sense. He laughs against Puck’s mouth and pulls back to look at him, hand curving around his cheek and just looking for a few seconds.
“Maybe I didn’t have enough information to make the right choice when all this started,” he says, thumb tracing the line of Puck’s jaw, “but knowing what I know now, I would choose you.”
The sound Puck makes goes straight to Kurt’s cock, then Puck surges forward to kiss him hard. His hands are on Kurt’s hips to pull him even closer, and when Kurt feels Puck’s erection through his jeans he moans and drags Puck backwards toward the bed.
Together they manage to get their clothes off, tripping over shoes and leaving a trail of fabric from the door to the bed as they strip without ever letting go of one another. It’s less than graceful, and by the time Kurt’s thighs hit the bed he’s laughing against Puck’s mouth again.
Puck pulls back to grin at him and Kurt’s heart clenches at the sight, wings flapping once before they fold neatly against his back so Kurt can stretch out on the mattress and drag Puck down on top of him.
“Babe, shouldn’t we…” Puck says, hands on Kurt’s hips as though he’s thinking about dragging Kurt up off the mattress again.
Instead of answering Kurt just shakes his head, then he hooks a leg around Puck’s thighs to pull him flush against Kurt’s body. “They’re fine. Unless you really do want to be alone with them.”
Puck huffs a laugh against Kurt’s mouth and kisses him again, soft and slow and by the time he lets Kurt up for air, Kurt’s arching against him and digging his heel into the back of Puck’s leg. It gets him a low groan, the one that makes Kurt’s whole body flush, then Puck’s shifting his weight and reaching behind Kurt’s knees to push his legs up and apart.
They haven’t done this before, mostly because Puck seems to like being able to touch Kurt’s wings whenever he wants. And Kurt’s not going to deny that they’re sensitive to Puck’s touch, but right now he wants it to be just the two of them, no wings to distract him or make Kurt doubt that this is anything other than as real as Puck claims it is.
Slick fingers slide inside him, opening him up and making Kurt moan and push down for more. When he looks up Puck’s eyes are dark, his jaw clenched as though he’s working hard to hold back whatever he’s feeling. And that’s the last thing Kurt wants, so he leans up far enough to kiss Puck hard, then he murmurs Puck, please against his mouth.
Puck nods and reaches for a condom, slick hands stroking his cock a few times before he lines himself up and pushes into tight heat. Kurt’s lips part on a breathy sigh, neck long and flushed and he has a feeling his feathers are going to be a mess later. He has a feeling Puck’s going to enjoy saying “I told you so,” but it’s worth it to watch Puck braced above him, muscles taut and pushing into Kurt slow.
He’s still taking his time, angling his hips a little with each lazy thrust, listening to every sound Kurt makes until he finds the spot that makes Kurt gasp and clench around him. As soon as he finds it he does it again, over and over until they’re both breathing hard, Kurt whining low in his throat and pushing down one last time to bury Puck as deep as he can get while he comes.
And now he knows his wings are a mess, but he doesn’t care, because Puck’s still moving, shallow little thrusts of his hips while he waits out Kurt’s orgasm. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and Kurt grips Puck’s shoulders hard and pulls him forward until Puck’s kissing him.
He bottoms out inside Kurt, hitting that spot that’s way too sensitive now and setting off a fresh burst of sparks behind Kurt’s eyes. When he does Kurt gasps and clenches around him, and that’s all it takes to drag Puck’s orgasm out of him.
Puck collapses on top of him, heavy and solid and way too hot, and Kurt wraps his arms around Puck’s shoulders and holds on as tight as he can. His wings are stretched sort of uncomfortably, but he ignores it and lifts his chin to let Puck press his face to Kurt’s neck, sighing at the brush of warm lips against his skin.
“Say it again,” Puck murmurs, so soft that at first Kurt’s not really sure he’s said anything at all.
“I love you.”
As soon as he says it Puck pulls back to look at him, and when Kurt sees his expression his heart pounds hard against his chest.
“Yeah, me too,” Puck says, and it’s not like Kurt didn’t already know how he felt, but hearing it out loud makes a difference anyway.
Then Puck’s kissing him again, pulling him forward and turning them until Kurt’s stretched across his chest and his wings are free. Puck’s fingers slide through his feathers while they kiss, carefully straightening them without even having to look, and Kurt knows he’s never going to get enough of this.
~
Kurt wakes to hot breath on his neck and a heavy arm draped across his waist. There’s a pleasant ache in every inch of his body, and he stretches and turns under Puck’s arm to face him. For a few moments he just watches Puck sleep, remembering the things Puck whispered last night and blushing bright and hot.
When he realizes what he’s doing Kurt laughs to himself and leans in to brush a kiss against Puck’s shoulder, but when he just murmurs in his sleep and rolls onto his back, Kurt sighs and climbs out of bed. He leaves Puck sleeping and heads for the bathroom, humming to himself as he pulls on a clean pair of pajama bottoms and goes through his morning routine.
His wings flap contentedly behind him, and Kurt rolls his eyes affectionately and lets himself out of the bathroom. Puck’s still fast asleep, so Kurt climbs back onto the bed to straddle his thighs. He leans over, letting his wings stretch out behind him as he brushes his lips against Puck’s.
For a few moments he thinks he’s going to have to resort to more drastic measures to wake Puck, but when he pulls back Puck blinks his eyes open to look up at him. “Morning.”
“Hey,” Puck says, sleepy and thick and Kurt feels it curling warm in his stomach. Puck’s hands land on Kurt’s back, sliding along warm skin to bury his fingers in the soft down of his feathers. "You going somewhere?"
He waits for the familiar rush of anxiety that comes with even the thought of leaving Puck lately, but it never surfaces. Instead Kurt just feels warm and happy, wings fluttering contentedly under Puck's touch.
"Not far. I thought I might let you sleep and go get some coffee before it's all gone."
"I’m awake now," Puck says, but his eyes are on Kurt's wings where they're still stretched behind him. "Something's different, babe."
"What?" Kurt asks, craning his head to try to see whatever Puck's looking at, but all he can see is the usual blur of white.
"Your feathers, it's like they're a different color. Paler, maybe."
Kurt's not sure it's possible to get more pale than the pure, snowy white of his wings, but when he grabs the tip of one and drags it around to look, he thinks he can see what Puck means. It's not so much that they're pale as they're...translucent. Less solid somehow, though they feel just as real as ever. They're sort of shimmery, like oil on the water's surface, and for a second Kurt wonders if he got something on them at the shop.
But if he had there would be dark streaks of oil on his feathers somewhere, and as far as he can tell, nothing’s different except that his wings have changed color.
“What now?” he mutters, exasperated, but the truth is he’s a little worried, too, because if his dad notices the difference he’ll probably try to drag Kurt back to the hospital again.
A pair of warm hands land on his hips, easing him backwards until Puck can sit up. He pushes until Kurt takes the hint and climbs off him, then Puck’s kneeling on the mattress behind him and running his hands over Kurt’s wings.
“Do they feel any different?”
“No,” Kurt answers, frowning as he focuses on Puck’s touch in case there is a difference and he just hasn’t noticed it yet. “If anything I feel better than I have. Less anxious.”
“Yeah,” Puck says, as though he already knew that, and Kurt supposed he would be able to tell. “Maybe this is supposed to happen.”
“What do you mean?” Kurt asks, glancing over his shoulder to watch Puck’s thumb slide along the ridge of his right wing.
“I’m just saying, if this whole thing happened just to clue us in that we’re supposed to be together, maybe you had to admit it before they could show up the way they’re supposed to.”
“Are you saying you think my wings changed color because I told you I love you?”
Puck’s lips brush across his shoulder when he says it, and Kurt feels a warm tug in the center of his chest edging out the panic that blossomed when he realized his wings really had changed.
“You got a better explanation?”
“I could think of a few, but yours is the least painful scenario,” Kurt admits. He’s already imagining his wings mutating again, growing until there’s no way to hide them, or worse, becoming so painful even Puck won’t be able to touch them anymore.
As soon as he thinks it Puck’s fingers slide through his feathers, then his hands leave Kurt’s wings to slide around his waist and pull him back against Puck’s chest. “Relax, babe. I’m
telling you, this was supposed to happen.”
Kurt huffs a soft laugh, but the truth is that he sort of wants to believe it. He likes the idea of being destined for this -- destined for Puck -- even if it doesn’t really mean anything.
His hand covers Puck’s where it’s resting on his stomach, fingers sliding together and holding on tight.
“What if they keep changing?”
Puck brushes a kiss against his neck this time, and Kurt sighs and lets his head fall back against Puck’s shoulder. “Doesn’t matter, babe. You’ll still be just as hot.”
This wasn’t how Kurt planned to start his morning, especially with his entire family downstairs. But Puck’s sucking on his neck now, the hand on his stomach inching lower and Kurt gasps and turns in Puck’s grip to kiss him. He feels Puck chuckle against his mouth, smiles in answer and doesn’t complain when Puck hooks his thumbs in Kurt’s pajama pants and slides them down his hips.
He lets Puck pull him back down onto the mattress, sprawled on top of Puck and settling between his legs to rock their hips together. It’s slow and lazy and sort of frustrating, but Puck’s hands are moving everywhere, pulling them together and murmuring Kurt’s name against his mouth and he can’t bring himself to pull away even to speed things up.
So Kurt just kisses Puck over and over, nipping at his bottom lip until Puck’s moaning and pushing up even harder against him. When that’s not enough anymore Kurt works a hand between them, sliding his fingers along the slick at the tip of his own cock before he closes his hand around Puck. It gets him another moan, then Puck’s pushing him onto his side and pulling back to stare at Kurt while he licks his palm and closes his hand around Kurt’s dick.
They come almost at the same time, mouths pressed together to swallow the sounds of more and more frantic moans until Puck tenses in his grip and thrusts hard into the circle of Kurt’s fist. His fingers close tight around Kurt’s cock, and that’s all it takes to pull Kurt over the edge, panting Puck’s name against his lips and coating his fingers and his stomach in wet heat.
Once he catches his breath Kurt reaches for the sheet to clean them off, making a mental note to find time for laundry when Carole’s not around to try to talk him into letting her do it for him. He lets Puck pull him close to kiss him again, and when Puck lets him up for air Kurt smiles and curves his hand around Puck’s cheek.
“I suppose if they turn rainbow colored at least I’ll be all set for the next Pride Parade.”
Puck snorts a laugh and runs his hand up Kurt’s back to push through the soft feathers at the joints. “You in a crowd full of gay dudes with these? I’m not sure even I could fight off that many people.”
Kurt rolls his eyes, but there’s nothing he can do about the way his cheeks flush. “You know you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Yeah,” Puck says, then he kisses Kurt again, and when his hand slides down Kurt’s back to curve around his ass, Kurt blushes harder and pulls away.
“We can’t stay in bed all day,” he says, but he wishes they could. Still, Puck’s supposed to go into the shop for awhile, and for once the thought of it doesn’t leave Kurt feeling oddly bereft.
He reaches down to tug his pajamas back up, then he climbs out of bed and looks down at Puck. His wings flutter at the sight of Puck stretched out on the mattress, but when they try to propel him forward, Kurt digs his heels in and stands his ground. “I’m going to see if there’s any coffee left.”
“What, no shower?” Puck calls after him, but Kurt just rolls his eyes and lets himself out of the bedroom. He knows as well as Puck that if they get in the shower together that he’ll definitely be late for work, and Kurt’s father might be Puck’s boss, but that doesn’t mean he’ll put up with Kurt making one of his employees late every morning.
Kurt’s smiling to himself as he reaches the kitchen, wings fluttering softly behind him at the memory of Puck’s face when Kurt told him he didn’t have to worry about other men. When he reaches the kitchen Finn’s the only one there, head in the fridge and pulling out the lunch his mother packed for him.
“Morning,” Kurt says as he heads for the coffee pot, and if he sounds a little happier than usual, he’s fairly confident Finn won’t notice.
“You left your jacket at Schue’s place, bro,” Finn says, but when Kurt looks over at him his eyes are wide. “Dude.”
Kurt frowns, because it’s just a jacket, but when he realizes Finn’s staring at a point over his shoulders Kurt forgets the jacket altogether. “What?”
“Your wings. They’re…gone.”
“What are you talking about?” Kurt asks, his wings fluttering softly behind him. He can feel them, so he knows they’re still there, but he reaches out and runs a hand over his feathers anyway, just to be sure.
“I mean they’re not there,” Finn says, then he frowns and tilts his head to one side like a big, dumb dog. “There were still there last night, right? I mean, you guys bailed so early I didn’t really get a chance to talk to you, but it seemed like they were still there.”
“They’re still there now,” Kurt answers, glancing over his shoulder at the familiar blur of soft white down. He knows they’re still there, because Puck was touching them not ten minutes ago, and unless they’re having some sort of shared delusion, Finn’s the one who’s losing it here.
Finn’s still frowning at him when the kitchen door opens again, and Kurt looks up to find his dad frozen with his hand on the door. “Son?”
“See?” Finn says, gesturing toward Kurt’s back where his wings are still fluttering languidly, as though there’s nothing wrong at all. “They’re gone. Tell him.”
“They’re not gone,” Kurt says, scowling at first Finn and then his dad. “I can feel them.”
His dad’s gaze shifts to Kurt’s hand where it’s still gripping his feathers, frowning before he looks back up at Kurt again. “There’s nothing there, Kurt.”
“I’m not crazy, Dad.”
“Nobody’s saying you are,” his dad says, but it’s clear by the way he’s staring at Kurt that he’s considering the possibility.
Before Kurt can answer Puck appears in the kitchen door, frowning at the sight of Kurt and his dad staring at each other across the room. “What’s the problem?”
At the sound of Puck’s voice his wings flap once, arching up over his shoulders as though they’re bent on making their presence known. Kurt watches Puck follow the movement with his eyes, and when he realizes Puck can still see them, relief grips him so hard he has to flap his wings again to keep himself from stumbling backwards.
“Puck can still see them. Can’t you?”
“See what?” Puck asks, and Kurt’s not even aware of how important it is to him that Puck can see them until Puck frowns as though they’ve all gone crazy.
“Dude, his wings are gone,” Finn says, as though it should be obvious, and apparently it should, at least as far as his dad and Finn are concerned.
“No, they’re not,” Puck answers, and Kurt lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I mean, yeah, they’re a little lighter, but you can still see them fine.”
“I can’t,” Finn says, and Kurt would laugh at how put out he sounds if he wasn’t so busy being relieved that Puck can still see them.
Kurt’s not even sure why he’s so happy that his wings aren’t actually gone, but he knows how much Puck likes them, and if they’re going to stick around, Puck might as well be able to see them too.
“Are you boys saying that Kurt’s got invisible wings now?” his dad says, and okay, when he puts it that way, it does sound a little crazy.
But there’s no other explanation, because they can’t both be hallucinating. Kurt’s wings flutter as if in agreement, but he ignores them and takes a step forward. “I know it’s hard to believe, Dad, but they’re still there. I don’t know why no one else can see them.”
His dad nods slowly, and Kurt wonders if he’s just humoring them. “Maybe we should call the doctor again.”
“Why?” Kurt asks, the question coming out a little angrier than he planned, but he’s tired of doctors. He’s been tired of them for weeks now, and the last thing he needs is another night in the hospital spent being poked and prodded. “They couldn’t do anything when they could see my wings, so there’s no reason to think they’ll have any answers now.”
“I know you don’t like feeling like a science experiment, son, but if your wings are...invisible, then maybe other things have changed too.”
Until his dad says it, Kurt doesn’t even consider the possibility that this change in his wings might mean he can touch other people again. He steals another glance at Puck, watching his eyebrows go up before he shrugs.
“There’s an easier way to find out.”
He takes another step as he says it, then another, until he’s standing right in front of his dad. “Son, what...?”
That’s as far as he gets before Kurt reaches out, a hand landing on his father’s arm. He braces himself for the flash of pain he hasn’t felt in weeks, vaguely aware of Puck moving toward him in anticipation, but the pain never comes. He takes a breath, then another, and when it still doesn’t hurt, he reaches out with his other hand and grabs his dad’s shoulder this time.
Still nothing, and when Kurt realizes he’s touching his father with no pain at all, he lets out a laugh that catches in his throat and drags his dad into a hug.
“Kurt?” his dad says, but his arms are already sliding around Kurt, resting right over his wings, and it’s strange that his father can’t feel them, but he doesn’t seem to realize there’s still there. “You’re okay?”
Kurt nods against his shoulder, blinking a few times against the stinging in his eyes, and when his dad pulls back to look at him it’s all Kurt can do not to drag him forward again. “Are you sure you don’t want to call the doctor?”
“I’m sure, Dad,” Kurt says, and he has a feeling he’s smiling like a moron, but he can’t bring himself to care. “I’m fine. Better than fine, honestly.”
He can tell his dad wants to argue, but he knows as well as Kurt does that there’s nothing the doctors can do. They’ve been saying as much since all this started, even while they were using him as a pincushion. Finally his dad nods, then he takes a deep breath and claps Kurt on the shoulder one last time before he lets him go.
“It’s still your call, son. But if anything else changes...”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Kurt says, and it’s not exactly true, because Puck will be the first to know, but it’s close enough to the truth. His dad nods again, anyway, then he glances at his watch.
“I need to go open up the shop. I guess I’ll see you boys there,” he says, glancing at Finn and Puck.
When they nod he lets himself out of the kitchen, and Puck waits until he’s sure his dad’s gone to turn back to Kurt. “You think he’ll still want me to work for him if you’re back to normal?”
“Mostly normal,” Kurt says, smiling when his wings flutter.
“Of course, bro, he still needs somebody to take my hours,” Finn says, reminding Kurt that his stepbrother’s still standing behind him. Kurt glances over his shoulder at Finn, watching him look between Kurt and Puck as though he’s trying to figure something out.
“Finn’s right,” Kurt says when he turns back to Puck. “He’s still leaving, and Dad’s still going to be a man down. Now that I appear to have my life back, I don’t intend to spend it fixing engines and constantly battling grease under my nails.”
He sees Puck’s slow grin, feels his ears heating up because he knows exactly how much Puck enjoys watching him in the shop, and he doesn’t need to be reminded in front of Finn. Then again, it might be worth it to spend the rest of the year working for his father if Puck’s going to keep looking at him that way, and when Kurt feels his wings stretch he knows Puck can tell exactly what he’s thinking.
He’s three seconds away from dragging Puck out of the kitchen and back upstairs when Finn clears his throat behind him, and Kurt flushes harder when he remembers that they’re not alone.
“I’m glad you’re back to normal, bro,” Finn says, over-large hand landing on Kurt’s shoulder and squeezing. His arm brushes the tip of Kurt’s wings, and it’s weird to feel someone else touch them after so long, but Finn doesn’t seem to notice.
“Thank you, Finn,” Kurt says, still blushing, and Finn grins and then heads out of the kitchen to get ready for work.
Once he’s gone Kurt turns back to Puck, watching as he crosses the room to reach out and slide a hand around the back of Kurt’s neck. “So?”
“So?” Kurt repeats, hands landing on Puck’s hips to pull him closer.
“So are you gonna admit I was right or what?”
Kurt rolls his eyes, because of course the first thing Puck wants to do is say ‘I told you so’. But he’s got a point, and Kurt’s mature enough to admit when he’s wrong.
“Fine, you may have had a point. Though I still don’t believe there’s some higher power out there conspiring to get us together.”
“Why else would I still be able to see them when no one else can?” Puck asks, his free hand landing on the ridge of Kurt’s wing to trace along the curve. “Come on, babe. We’re perfect together, just admit it.”
“I’m not denying that we make a strange sort of sense.” Kurt presses forward into Puck’s body heat, arms sliding around his waist and pushing up under his shirt to flatten his palms against warm skin.
“Yeah, and if none of this had happened, you never would have figured it out.”
He’s not wrong about that, either, but Kurt doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to dwell on where he might have ended up if he hadn’t been more or less forced together with Puck, because as soon as he does his throat starts to close up and he has to swallow hard and press his face into Puck’s shoulder. Instantly the hand on the back of his neck squeezes a little, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to know that Puck can still sense what he’s feeling.
“Whatever the reason, I’m grateful it happened,” Kurt says, then he pulls back to look at Puck.
“Yeah, me too,” Puck answers. His fingers are still moving in Kurt’s feathers, stroking the soft down and sending little shivers of pleasure down Kurt’s spine. “I know this wasn’t part of your plan or anything…”
“Plans change,” Kurt interrupts, and when he smiles Puck lets out a soft laugh. “I mean it, Puck. I’m glad it happened. And now that I don’t have to stay locked up like some princess in a tower, things will only get better. We can have a life. Both of us. Together.”
Puck nods and buries his hands in Kurt’s wings, then he leans in to press a kiss to the side of Kurt’s neck. “I like the sound of that.”
~
In the end Puck leaves for work half an hour late and only slightly distracted. Kurt insists on dropping him off, mainly because he can actually leave the house for the first time in months without worrying about who he might run into. When he slides behind the wheel this time it feels different; his wings aren’t quite so distracting, and he doesn’t have to struggle to find a comfortable position to let him drive.
“You sure this is a good idea?” Puck asks when they pull up in front of the shop, leaning across the console to steal a kiss in spite of who might be able to see them.
“I’ll be fine,” Kurt answers, hand on Puck’s cheek and holding him close for a moment before he lets Puck pull away.
Puck nods, just looking at Kurt for a few seconds, then he turns to climb out of the car. When he gets to the door of the shop he glances back at Kurt, raising his hand to wave, and Kurt grins and waves back before he pulls out of the parking lot and heads across town.
His first stop is the Lima Bean, where he has to make vague excuses to the baristas who still recognize him about a long-term illness. They spend more time fussing over him than Kurt’s comfortable with, but they comp his mocha, and they seem happy to see him again. After that he calls Mercedes to tell her the news, then he heads for the mall and spends some time browsing the racks at Macy’s just because he can.
The first time he accidentally brushes against someone in the coffee shop he tenses, but there’s no sudden wave of burning pain. There’s not even a twinge; there’s nothing at all, and Kurt’s heart beats a little faster when it finally sinks in that he really does have his life back.
He has his family and he has Puck, and now he has a future too. He can move forward with his plans to go to New York if he wants to; the only difference now is that instead of worrying about Blaine’s role in his future, he’ll be making plans with Puck. Granted, they haven’t actually discussed what happens next, but only because there hasn’t been time.
Kurt swallows a rush of nerves, glancing around the department store that suddenly feels a little claustrophobic. It’s been a long time since he was out in public, and he didn’t expect it to bother him, but now that he’s standing alone in the middle of Macy’s he wishes he’d waited until Puck could be here too.
He tries to imagine Puck following him around Macy’s while he browses the racks, wings stirring under his shirt at the image as though they think it’s sort of funny too. He flexes his shoulders experimentally, but his shirt doesn’t feel any tighter than it used to before he had invisible wings, and so far he hasn’t caught any strangers staring at his back as though they’re wondering if he’s got some kind of deformity.
So maybe Puck’s right and all he had to do was admit he really does want Puck, regardless of whether or not he needs him, in order to get his wings to realize their full potential. Kurt contemplates another attempt at flight and laughs to himself, then he sets the shirt he’s holding back on the rack and heads out of the store before anyone starts looking at him like he’s crazy.
He stops and picks up some takeout, then he points the Navigator back across town to his dad’s shop. When he gets there Puck’s backing a car out of the bay and into a parking spot, then he climbs out of the driver’s seat. He looks up and spots Kurt almost immediately, surprise quickly melting into a grin when Kurt crosses the lot to stop in front of him.
“What’s up?” Puck asks, hand on Kurt’s arm and sort of sliding along his sleeve. “You need a fix or something?”
As he says it Puck’s grin turns a little feral, and Kurt blushes and catches the hand that’s still resting on his arm. “Not that it’s not tempting, but the truth is I just stopped by to bring you lunch.”
And okay, maybe he did want to see Puck after the weirdness in Macy’s, but it’s not the same as when they were apart and Kurt’s chest ached so much he could hardly breathe. It doesn’t feel like he’s going to die if he doesn’t get as close as possible to Puck right this second; instead Kurt just...misses him, the same way he used to miss Blaine when he was still at Dalton and Kurt was back at McKinley.
“Yeah?” Puck says, taking the bag Kurt holds out to him without letting go of Kurt’s hand. “Thanks, babe.”
Kurt smiles and lets Puck lead him into the shop, past his dad’s office to the small room with a tiny table that passes for a break room. He watches while Puck pulls containers out of the bag Kurt brought him, and when he passes Kurt a Coke he wraps his hands around it and looks at Puck.
“Before all this happened, I was planning to move to New York.”
Puck doesn’t look back at him, but Kurt sees the way Puck’s hand freezes on the bag for a second before he nods and crumples it into a tight ball. “Yeah, Finn mentioned something about that.”
“I thought I was going to have to give up that dream,” Kurt continues, still watching Puck’s jaw as it clenches and then releases. “But now that it looks as though things are getting back to normal...I guess what I’m wondering is, would you consider going to New York with me? Not right away. If I get into NYADA it won’t be until next year, and even then...”
“You mean that?” Puck interrupts, finally looking up at Kurt. “You want me to go with you?”
“Of course I do.” Kurt doesn’t roll his eyes, but he wants to, because Puck really can be an idiot sometimes. “You said yourself there was nothing keeping you here, right?”
For a second Puck just looks at him, then he leans over and plants a hard kiss on Kurt’s lips. “Just you, babe.”
“So does that mean you’ll go?”
“Yeah,” Puck says, the words warm against Kurt’s mouth as he leans in for another kiss. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go.”
The truth is that Kurt’s not positive what he wants anymore; a lot has changed over the summer, and even though he’s got his life back, he knows nothing will ever be quite the same again. Still, he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t at least try to make his dreams happen, and as long as Puck’s by his side, Kurt has a feeling everything will work out just the way it’s supposed to.
fin