Fic: Trains 4/? (Glee, Kurt/Puck, NC17)
Title: Trains 4/?
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Puck
Rating: NC17
Word count: 5600 for this part
Summary: Futurefic. New Directions is in Las Vegas for the last Nationals competition of their high school careers. It's supposed to be a glamorous weekend in Sin City capped by a thrilling come-from-behind victory. Then Kurt wakes up married to Puck on the day of the competition, and it's just the start of their problems.
A/N: There are two official soundtracks to this thing. TWO. The first one is an EP featuring the songs New Directions performs at Nationals, plus a bonus track because I think it's funny. Download links and a tragic cover are behind the cut. Scroll down for the fic.
1) The Noisettes -- When You Were Young
2) Orson -- Push the Button
3) Adele -- Someone Like You
4) Van Morrison -- Someone Like You
Bonus track: The Harvey Girls -- White Wedding
***
Nobody knew where Schue had come up with the theme for Nationals. They’d all tried pointing out that it didn’t make any sense, but it was Schue, so they knew they were fighting a losing battle.
Kurt hadn’t fought that hard once he heard what his solo was going to be. A mash-up, of course, because Schue just couldn’t help himself. But it wasn’t terrible, and it suited Kurt’s voice, so he didn’t really mind.
Schue had been calling the theme ‘British Invasion’ since he first came up with it, despite the fact that one of the songs was by The Killers. But they were from Las Vegas, and the song had been covered by some girl group from England, so Schue decided to let the girls perform it and call it an homage to their host city or something.
Which meant the boys were performing a song by a British girl group, because that was just how Schue’s mind worked. Kurt couldn’t even pretend not to find it hilarious that Finn and Puck and Sam were singing a Sugababes song, but they actually sounded pretty good, and once they got past the fact that it made them sound kind of gay, they did a decent job with the choreography as well.
Well. Finn seemed to be the only one who had a problem with the gay thing, now that Kurt thought about it. He was the only one who’d lobbied for a pronoun change, anyway, and privately Kurt had agreed with him, because there was no telling when they were going to find themselves in front of an uptight judge with no sense of humor. But the whole point, according to Schue, was the gender reversal theme, so in the end they’d left it alone.
That left Kurt and his mash-up of Adele’s “Someone Like You” and an old Van Morrison song by the same name. Kurt figured it was just that Schue couldn’t stand to let them perform without finding a way to get some classic rock in there, but it wasn’t Journey, so he was willing to let it go.
It was a risk, certainly, but they had the flashy choreography covered in the first two numbers, and he knew his voice was strong enough to carry a ballad. So he was confident that they could pull it off, as long as everyone would forget about his tragic love life long enough to focus on the competition.
He knew they were all on Puck’s side. They’d made that abundantly clear at rehearsal, and even the ones who weren’t treating him like he’d singlehandedly broken Puck’s heart -- as though that were even possible -- had let him know that they thought he’d messed up. And maybe he had, but there wasn’t much he could do about it before the competition.
That was what he told himself when Puck walked into the boys’ dressing room twenty minutes before the competition was due to start. Kurt looked up when he walked in, cheeks flushing when their eyes met. Before he could bring himself to look away another memory flashed in his mind, of Puck standing in front of him with that stupid smirk on his face and a ring in one hand.
Kurt remembered smiling, maybe even laughing at the ridiculousness of Puck putting a ring on his finger. He realized he was smiling at the memory when Puck raised his eyebrows, then he crossed the room and stopped in front of Kurt.
“Puck,” Kurt said at the same time Puck said, “Listen.”
“Just hear me out for a second,” Puck said, then he reached up to rest a hand on the back of his neck, and Kurt vividly remembered watching him do the same thing just that morning, only he was wearing a lot less clothes at the time.
“Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about last night. Guess I should have figured out you were too drunk to know what you were doing. It was just that you seemed really into the idea, you know? It was kind of cute.”
For a few seconds Kurt just blinked at him, because surely Puck hadn’t just used the word ‘cute’ in reference to him. But he must have, and that meant he’d also implied that this entire marriage fiasco was Kurt’s idea. That didn’t explain why Puck would go along with it, though, especially if he hadn’t been drinking.
He didn’t remember how the subject had come up in the first place, but he remembered long, slow kisses, and he remembered strong hands on him, and if Puck had gone through with a wedding just to get Kurt to sleep with him...
“Oh, God,” he murmured, blushing all the way to the roots of his hair. “Noah, did I...?”
That was as far as he got before the dressing room door opened again, and Schue appeared. “Puck, there you are. You need to get dressed, we don’t have much time.”
He slid an arm around Puck’s shoulders as he spoke, pulling him toward the rack where Puck’s costume was still hanging. Kurt watched them go, and when Puck glanced over his shoulder Kurt blushed and looked away.
~
They didn’t get another chance to talk before the competition was over. Puck held his own, in spite of skipping out on rehearsal, and Kurt blew his solo out of the water. The fact that they didn’t win the whole thing was a crime, as far as Puck was concerned, but Rachel had done enough rehashing of the winning performance for all of them, so he kept his mouth shut.
Instead he passed the time after the competition watching Kurt, mostly. He was trying not to be one of those creepy stalker types, because Kurt had made it pretty clear that he wasn’t interested in a repeat performance or anything. Still, that didn’t mean Puck couldn’t appreciate the view, especially when Kurt was looking all flushed and pleased with himself, soaking up the compliments the rest of the group kept tossing in his direction.
Well, Mercedes and Finn, anyway, though the rest of them were more or less ignoring him. Usually that was how they treated Puck, but Kurt was one of their kind, so it was a little weird to see him being frozen out.
“Enough sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves, guys,” Mercedes finally said. “So we didn’t win; we still made it to Nationals, right? That deserves a celebration. Ladies, didn’t we make plans to catch Celine’s show tonight?”
Rachel perked up at that, and both of them turned to look at Kurt. It took him a second to catch on that they were waiting for him to say something, but when he finally looked up he flashed the smile he usually reserved for teachers.
“Sorry, girls, I seem to have spent my ticket money on a wedding.”
All eyes swung in Puck’s direction, but he was too busy watching Kurt to notice. Then Kurt looked at him, and Puck shrugged and chanced a smile. “Hey, I sprang for the rings.”
Kurt’s gaze drifted to Puck’s finger, and Puck touched his ring with his thumb. He’d been doing it all day, which was kind of weird, considering Kurt had ditched his ring the first chance he got. But for some reason Puck just couldn’t bring himself to take his off, and when Kurt looked up at him again he was sort of glad he hadn’t.
It was stupid. He knew it was stupid, just like he knew that Kurt was right and they weren’t really married. It felt pretty real last night, though, and the longer Kurt kept looking at him the more Puck let himself hope that maybe Kurt didn’t hate the idea of them so much after all.
They were all still wearing their costumes, and Puck glanced down at the Union Jack shirt and the weird, not-actually-leather pants someone had conned Schue into letting them wear. Finn, probably, since he was the only one Schue ever listened to, but Puck was pretty sure it wasn’t Finn who’d come up with the wardrobe. Usually it was Kurt who picked out their clothes, and when Puck looked at him again he could see why Kurt had chosen this.
The shirts were sleeveless, which meant the guys got to show off their guns, and granted, Kurt wasn’t as built as the rest of them, but he still had some decent definition. A dancer’s body, he’d heard somebody call it once, and after last night Puck could testify that there wasn’t a lot Kurt couldn’t do with it. He was pretty flexible, anyway, and Puck’s cock stirred in his fake leather pants when he pictured the things Kurt had done with it.
Not as much as Puck wanted -- not by a long shot -- but it was a start, and if Puck ever got another chance, he’d make damn sure Kurt remembered everything in the morning.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the show,” Mercedes was saying, but she didn’t sound much like she meant it. “We could stay here and celebrate together.”
“To be honest, I’m not really up for celebrating,” Kurt said. “You go on. You can tell me all about it on the plane ride home tomorrow.”
He didn’t exactly look at Puck while he said it, but his head sort of turned in Puck’s direction, just for a second before he caught himself and focused on Mercedes again. It wasn’t much, and maybe it didn’t even mean anything, but Kurt hadn’t shut him down completely when Puck apologized, so maybe there was a chance he wasn’t planning to freeze Puck out forever.
“At least come help pick out our outfits for the show,” Mercedes said, and Kurt smiled and let her pull him out of his chair. A second later he was being escorted out of the room by Mercedes, Tina and Rachel, all three of them talking a mile a minute about what clothes they’d brought, like anybody at a fucking Celine Dion show was going to be looking at what they were wearing.
Puck didn’t even realize he was still staring in the direction they’d disappeared until a hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to find Finn watching him. He was making that weird face that meant he was either totally uncomfortable, or he was trying not to cry. Puck guessed it probably had something to do with the fact that he’d married Finn’s stepbrother, but he wasn’t really interested in making Finn feel better about it.
“Dude, you want to come out with us? Beiste and Schue want to take everybody else out to celebrate without the lame music. I think we’re just going to hit the all-night buffet or something.”
“No, thanks. I think I’m just gonna chill in the room tonight.”
Finn nodded, but he didn’t make himself scarce or anything. For a minute he just stood there giving Puck his worried face, and Puck was starting to think he was going to cry when Finn started talking again.
“Look, I’m sorry Kurt’s being kind of a jerk about all this. He probably just needs some time, you know, to come to terms or whatever.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Puck said. He stood up before Finn could get all weepy and, like, hug him or something, then he headed in the direction Kurt and his girls had disappeared.
He told himself it was better this way; he didn’t need to waste his last night in Vegas babysitting the rest of their sorry asses, and if Kurt didn’t want to talk to him, then there was no one around to care what Puck did with his time. Except the whole point had been that he wanted someone to care, and he’d kind of liked the idea of Kurt being that someone.
When he reached the lobby he glanced toward the elevators, but the thought of going back to his room and staring at the ceiling all night was too depressing. He was pretty sure the guys had pretty much destroyed the mini-bar, so he couldn’t even wallow in a decent drunk on McKinley’s dime. At the last second he turned on his heel and headed for the revolving doors at the front of the hotel, not even bothering to change out of his costume before he headed out into the Las Vegas night.
~
It took awhile to get rid of Mercedes and the others. The closer it got to show time the more nervous Kurt got that they might decide to skip out on Celine entirely and just stay in, but finally Rachel announced that it was time to go, and after one more round of hugs and a promise to Mercedes that he was fine, really, they left him alone.
Which left him...alone. He wasn’t sure where everyone else had gone; none of the others were really speaking to him, it seemed, and though some of them had softened a little after his solo performance, they still seemed intent on holding him responsible for this whole mess with Puck. It hardly seemed fair, considering he couldn’t even remember what happened, but for some reason they all seemed to think he’d hurt Puck’s feelings just by being honest.
It wasn’t as though he doubted Puck had feelings, he just never expected them to involve him. But after the way Puck had stormed out of the room during rehearsal, then the way he’d smiled at Kurt and touched that stupid ring, Kurt suddenly wasn’t so sure. He’d implied that the -- utterly cliche and completely humiliating -- wedding had been Kurt’s idea, but for a few seconds, it had been easy to believe that Puck had wanted it too.
Puck wanting to sleep with Kurt he could believe. After the Karofsky bombshell the year before, it wasn’t that difficult to buy that there was another closeted member of the football team. And Kurt wasn’t completely blind; he’d seen the changes in Puck, watched him grow a little...well, less pigheaded, anyway, over the past two years. He wasn’t sure if it was fatherhood or his stint in prison or just spending time with people who weren’t as vapid as McKinley’s elite that had changed him, but whatever it was, it had definitely been for the better.
So Puck had sprouted a sensitive side while Kurt wasn’t paying attention. It was unexpected, certainly, but Kurt was mature enough to admit that maybe he’d been less than fair in his handling of the whole unfortunate mess. Which meant there was really only one thing he could do about it, and it wasn’t going to kill him to apologize to Puck.
It wasn’t going to be his proudest moment, either, but it was best to get it over with. Kurt told himself he believed that and passed the door to his own room, forcing his legs to carry him down the hall to the room he’d woken up in that morning. He knocked as loud as he dared, glancing up and down the hall to make sure none of his so-called friends was lurking around to witness his latest humiliation.
The hall was deserted, and when Kurt didn’t get an answer to his second knock he had to concede that perhaps Puck wasn’t brooding alone in his room after all. He sighed and dug in his pocket for his phone, pressing Finn’s speed dial and hating himself a little for tracking Puck down like he really was Kurt’s wayward husband.
The thought sent a rush of some emotion he couldn’t name rolling through him, and he closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath while he waited for Finn to pick up. The line connected on the next ring, and Kurt heard the buzz of crowd noise in the background just ahead of Finn’s voice.
“Kurt?”
“Where are you?” Kurt asked, then he frowned and opened his eyes. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Is Puck with you?”
“Puck? No, he said he was planning to chill in the room,” Finn said. He was shouting over the noise, and Kurt guessed they were probably somewhere in the vicinity of a casino.
“Well, he’s not,” Kurt said, stomach twisting at the thought of what Puck might be up to on his own in Las Vegas. As though it was any of his business what Puck did or who he did it with, regardless of what had happened between them the night before. He knew better than to expect anything approaching an actual commitment from Puck, which was the whole reason Kurt should have known better than to sleep with him in the first place.
“Sorry, bro,” Finn said, then Kurt heard the muffled sound of someone’s voice -- Schue’s, he was pretty sure -- saying Finn’s name. “Listen, I gotta go. Why don’t you just call him, dude? He probably has his phone on him.”
Kurt frowned and hung up on Finn without answering. For a few seconds he stared down at his phone, wondering if he should take Finn’s advice and call Puck. But it felt too needy, too much like he was checking up on Puck, and anyway he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he might hear if Puck actually answered. He let out a sigh and turned toward his own room, but when he looked up and spotted the person walking down the hall toward him, his heart stopped and he felt his palms start to sweat.
He shoved his phone back in his pocket, trying to wipe his hands on his pants without being completely obvious as he watched Puck approaching. He was still wearing the Union Jack shirt and the faux leather pants Kurt had picked out for the boys’ number, arms on full display and looking...well, mouth-watering.
“Hey,” he said when he reached Kurt, gaze drifting down Kurt’s frame and then back up again.
“Hi,” Kurt said, voice a little breathier than he’d intended, and he cleared his throat and willed himself not to blush. “I was looking for you. Finn said you planned to stay in tonight.”
Puck shrugged and glanced over Kurt's shoulder for a second, then he looked back at Kurt. “I went down to that burger joint across the Strip to grab some dinner. They had one of those old-school video games, so I hung out for a little while. Then I remembered that my clothes were still in the dressing room, and I had to get one of the maintenance guys to let me in so I could get them.”
He held up the bundle of clothes hanging from one hand, and Kurt nodded idiotically and chanced a small smile. “You really went out in that outfit?”
“Yeah,” Puck said, glancing down at himself. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing,” Kurt answered. “I chose it myself, after all; I knew full well exactly how good it would look on you. It’s just that I can’t imagine you didn’t get propositioned a time or two, even in a burger joint.”
Puck shrugged again, which Kurt assumed meant that he’d at least noticed a few looks in his direction. The fact that he hadn’t done anything about it didn’t necessarily mean anything, but a tiny part of Kurt sort of hoped that it did.
“So why were you looking for me?”
“Oh,” Kurt said, forcing himself back to the reality that Puck was standing in front of him waiting for him to spit out what he wanted. “I just thought maybe we should clear the air. I mean, obviously we...”
He trailed off, heat creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, and Puck rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket for his room key.
“We got married, Kurt. We got married and came back here for what I thought was pretty decent sex, then you passed out and forgot the whole thing.”
He stepped around Kurt without waiting for an answer, unlocking the door to his room and for a second Kurt was too stunned to react. Because Noah Puckerman actually sounded hurt that Kurt couldn’t remember. Which was fair, Kurt supposed; it had to be a blow to his ego to have anyone forget a night with him. But the fact that Kurt didn't remember all the details didn’t mean he’d forgotten the way Puck’s hands felt on him or the way Puck smiled at him up close right before he kissed Kurt.
The way his mouth moved across Kurt’s jaw, up to his ear to whisper, I’m gonna make this good for you, baby, and as soon as Kurt remembered that he gasped and covered his mouth with his hand.
Puck paused with his hand on the door, glancing over his shoulder at Kurt. "What?”
“I didn’t...I didn’t forget. It’s just that the details are a little hazy.”
Puck let out a soft laugh, shaking his head and pushing his room door open. “You want to come in?”
Kurt nodded and followed Puck into the room, gaze straying to the bed that had been made by the hotel staff at some point during the afternoon. The bed where he'd apparently lost his virginity, and boy, did Kurt ever wish the details on that part were clear.
Puck crossed to an open duffel bag and dropped his clothes on top, then he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off. When he was finished he glanced up at Kurt, raising an eyebrow when Kurt didn’t move. “I’m not going to jump you or anything.”
Kurt flushed all over again and crossed to the bed, taking a seat a few feet away from Puck. There was no reason to be nervous; they were married, after all, and even if it didn’t count, they’d already slept together. So even if Puck didn’t want him again...but that was the thing, because Kurt was starting to get the distinct impression that he did.
“Noah,” he said, and when Puck glanced sharply at him Kurt realized that they weren’t really on a first name basis. At least they hadn’t been, but last night changed things Kurt probably hadn’t even realized yet. He swallowed against the sudden rush of butterflies in his stomach, then he took a deep breath and tried again. “Noah, please tell me I didn’t refuse to sleep with you unless you agreed to marry me.”
And there was that laugh again, soft and almost familiar and sending warmth curling in the base of Kurt’s stomach. “Truth is you refused to sleep with me at all.”
“Why on earth would I do that?” Kurt asked before he could stop himself. Still, it was a valid question, because he’d never expect a commitment from Puck, but he wasn’t stupid enough to turn down an offer of sex with one of the hottest guys he knew. At least he didn’t think he was that stupid, but it wasn’t as though he could actually remember.
“At first you seemed pretty into it,” Puck said, smiling at the memory and it was really hard to focus on the conversation when Puck was looking at him like that. “I mean, you kind of started it. But then you said something about me being your first and I’d just break your heart or whatever when I didn’t want to do it again. So I said we could get married first, if you wanted. I didn’t think you’d actually go for it; I was just trying to show you it didn’t have to be a one-time thing.”
“So it was a joke.” The words came out flat, and Kurt was sure Puck could hear the disappointment in his voice. Of course it had been a joke; he’d never thought for a second that Puck had actually meant it.
“I thought so right up until it happened. I mean, I tried to talk you out of it, but then you just called me a chicken and kissed me and I figured if I wanted you to keep doing that, I better go through with it.” Puck paused and let out another laugh, but this time the sound was forced. “Guess that didn’t work out so well.”
Kurt’s heart skipped a beat at the bitterness in his voice, and it didn’t make any sense, because Puck shouldn’t care whether or not Kurt wanted him. They were still a couple feet apart on the bed, and Kurt wanted to move closer, maybe kiss Puck just to prove that he was wrong about what Kurt wanted. But he didn’t have any experience at this sort of thing, and if it was too late and his chance had passed, he’d just end up heartbroken on top of the humiliation.
“I really am sorry,” he said instead, stealing another glance at Puck to find him watching Kurt. “I wish I could remember.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Kurt let out a laugh that sounded about as genuine as Puck’s had. “Not as much as I do, believe me. I know the first time isn’t as magical as they make it seem in the movies, but I’d prefer to at least remember mine.”
He felt the mattress dip a little, and when he looked up again, Puck was closer. Close enough to touch, and when he leaned in Kurt turned toward him before he could stop himself. He felt the warmth of Puck’s breath on his cheek, then a hand landed on his thigh and slid up a couple inches, and Kurt’s breath caught in his throat.
“What are you doing?”
As soon as he said it he pictured Puck’s smile, bright and happy as he leaned in close. Kurt remembered something firm against his back, bright lights flashing on their way past and he wasn’t positive, but it seemed as though they must have been in a taxi at some point. Then Puck’s lips brushed his and Kurt remembered laughing when Puck pulled back far enough to say, “Kissing my husband.”
That wasn’t what Puck said this time. He could still hear those other words ringing in his memory as Puck’s lips brushed against his jaw, and Kurt heard his own surprised intake of breath when Puck said, “Refreshing your memory.”
He wanted to laugh, because Puck had no idea how right he was. But he sort of wanted to cry, too, because the Puck in his memory had looked so happy, and if Kurt had been the one to make him smile like that, he needed to remember so he could make it happen again and again and again.
For a few blissful moments Kurt kissed Puck back. His hand curved around Puck’s cheek, fingers tracing the lines of his face and his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he was sure Puck could feel it. He wanted to stay right here, just like this, and keep letting Puck kiss him for as long as he wanted. He wanted to let Puck show him all the things they’d done last night, and this time Kurt was determined not to forget a single one.
“Noah,” he murmured against Puck’s mouth, hand leaving his cheek to rest against his shoulder. “I lied.”
And maybe that wasn’t the best way to say it, because Puck tensed against him and pulled away, but he didn’t let go of Kurt when he answered. “About what?”
“When I said the wedding wasn’t real,” Kurt said, and now his heart was pounding so hard Kurt could hear it pulsing against his eardrums. “It’s not legally binding, but that doesn’t mean it was meaningless.”
“Look, Kurt, I know it’s not legal,” Puck said, and Kurt felt some of the tension ease out of him where his hand was still pressed against Puck’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have let you go through with it if I thought it was.”
“But Ohio says Rachel’s dads aren’t really married, and they still take their vows seriously.” Kurt looked down at Puck’s chest, taking in the Union Jack still covering his torso and hoping he wasn’t about to ruin everything for a second time. “We’re not legally tied to one another, but what happens when we get back to Lima? Do we go our separate ways and hope it stops feeling like we’re connected somehow?”
“If that’s the way you want it,” Puck said, and this time he did let go of Kurt. “All I know is that last night, when I put that ring on your finger, it felt pretty real. I don’t know how fast that kind of feeling goes away.”
Kurt glanced down at Puck’s hand where it rested on the mattress next to his thigh. The ring was still there, a simple gold band and it didn’t look quite so cheap now that Kurt really looked at it. He’d been in such a hurry to get his off that he hadn’t thought much about the ring itself, but now...
“Why did you choose those rings?” he asked, looking up at Puck again.
Puck glanced down at his own hand, then back up at Kurt. “I didn’t. You did. You said...”
“That they were just like the one my mother gave to my father on their wedding day,” Kurt finished for him.
He remembered now, remembered standing in front of the jewelry case with Puck and feeling happy and a little like he was floating and ridiculously sentimental. Nostalgic -- and okay, tipsy -- enough to pass over the much more refined platinum bands in favor of the yellow gold that had gone out of fashion years ago.
And Puck had just smiled and kissed him, then looked at the woman behind the counter and said, “Guess my man has spoken.”
Kurt blinked and looked over at Puck, taking in the set of his shoulders and his guarded expression. He hadn’t seen Puck like that in a long time, maybe not since he came back to McKinley for their senior year. It wasn’t his best look; Kurt much preferred the smiling, happy Puck from the cab ride back to the hotel, the one who’d made a big show of referring to Kurt as his husband over and over, until Kurt kissed him just to shut him up for awhile.
“Are you saying you’d like to see this marriage through?” Kurt asked, frowning because surely that couldn’t be what Puck meant.
But instead of laughing in his face, Puck just shrugged and managed somehow to look even more nervous. “It’s not like we can get unmarried, right?”
He had a point, but that didn’t mean they were obligated to...Kurt wasn’t even sure what this meant. Most married people lived together, for one thing, and while they were both eighteen, they still had several weeks of high school left. Then there was the fact that they both still lived with their parents, and Kurt knew full well that his father wasn’t going to let Puck move in just because Kurt had gotten drunk and done something stupid while he was in Vegas.
The fact that he might actually be a little in love with Puck already wasn’t going to do much to sway his father’s opinion.
“We barely know each other.”
Another shrug, but Puck swayed a little closer, and Kurt found himself leaning into the solid warmth of Puck’s side. “So we get to know each other. Go on dates and stuff. We skipped ahead a little bit, yeah, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work.”
Kurt smiled in spite of himself, and when Puck smiled back at him his heart beat a little faster. “So I’m dating my...husband.”
“Say that again,” Puck said, leaning in to brush his lips against Kurt’s neck, and Kurt let out a little sigh and tilted his head.
“What, ‘husband’?”
“Yeah.” Puck’s mouth pressed against his, and Kurt parted his lips and let Puck push him backwards onto the mattress. He paused long enough to look down at Kurt, his grin sending a shiver of want down Kurt’s spine. “I like how it sounds when you say it.”
“It sounds pretty good when you say it, too,” Kurt said, hands on the front of Puck’s shirt to drag him forward. Their mouths were nearly touching when Puck paused, blinking down at Kurt for a second.
“When did I say it?”
“Last night. In the cab,” Kurt said, frowning for a second as he searched his memory. “And in the elevator. And all the way down the hall to your room, at least until I made you stop.”
“You remember that?” Puck grinned, and he looked so happy about it that Kurt wished all over again that he could remember everything.
What he could remember seemed unbelievable, but nothing was more unbelievable than the idea that Puck actually wanted to be married to him, and for the first time Kurt was almost sure anything was possible. He reached up to rest his hand against Puck’s cheek, just looking for a long moment, but when he registered the sight of his bare finger against Puck’s skin he gasped and pushed at Puck’s shoulders until Puck took the hint and rolled off him.
“What’s the problem?” Puck asked, and he sounded so resigned that Kurt almost regretted pushing him away. Almost, but not quite, because if they were going to do this, he wanted to do it right.
“Just...hold that thought,” Kurt said, then he pressed a hard kiss against Puck’s lips. “I’ll be right back.”
Part Five
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Puck
Rating: NC17
Word count: 5600 for this part
Summary: Futurefic. New Directions is in Las Vegas for the last Nationals competition of their high school careers. It's supposed to be a glamorous weekend in Sin City capped by a thrilling come-from-behind victory. Then Kurt wakes up married to Puck on the day of the competition, and it's just the start of their problems.
A/N: There are two official soundtracks to this thing. TWO. The first one is an EP featuring the songs New Directions performs at Nationals, plus a bonus track because I think it's funny. Download links and a tragic cover are behind the cut. Scroll down for the fic.
1) The Noisettes -- When You Were Young
2) Orson -- Push the Button
3) Adele -- Someone Like You
4) Van Morrison -- Someone Like You
Bonus track: The Harvey Girls -- White Wedding
***
Nobody knew where Schue had come up with the theme for Nationals. They’d all tried pointing out that it didn’t make any sense, but it was Schue, so they knew they were fighting a losing battle.
Kurt hadn’t fought that hard once he heard what his solo was going to be. A mash-up, of course, because Schue just couldn’t help himself. But it wasn’t terrible, and it suited Kurt’s voice, so he didn’t really mind.
Schue had been calling the theme ‘British Invasion’ since he first came up with it, despite the fact that one of the songs was by The Killers. But they were from Las Vegas, and the song had been covered by some girl group from England, so Schue decided to let the girls perform it and call it an homage to their host city or something.
Which meant the boys were performing a song by a British girl group, because that was just how Schue’s mind worked. Kurt couldn’t even pretend not to find it hilarious that Finn and Puck and Sam were singing a Sugababes song, but they actually sounded pretty good, and once they got past the fact that it made them sound kind of gay, they did a decent job with the choreography as well.
Well. Finn seemed to be the only one who had a problem with the gay thing, now that Kurt thought about it. He was the only one who’d lobbied for a pronoun change, anyway, and privately Kurt had agreed with him, because there was no telling when they were going to find themselves in front of an uptight judge with no sense of humor. But the whole point, according to Schue, was the gender reversal theme, so in the end they’d left it alone.
That left Kurt and his mash-up of Adele’s “Someone Like You” and an old Van Morrison song by the same name. Kurt figured it was just that Schue couldn’t stand to let them perform without finding a way to get some classic rock in there, but it wasn’t Journey, so he was willing to let it go.
It was a risk, certainly, but they had the flashy choreography covered in the first two numbers, and he knew his voice was strong enough to carry a ballad. So he was confident that they could pull it off, as long as everyone would forget about his tragic love life long enough to focus on the competition.
He knew they were all on Puck’s side. They’d made that abundantly clear at rehearsal, and even the ones who weren’t treating him like he’d singlehandedly broken Puck’s heart -- as though that were even possible -- had let him know that they thought he’d messed up. And maybe he had, but there wasn’t much he could do about it before the competition.
That was what he told himself when Puck walked into the boys’ dressing room twenty minutes before the competition was due to start. Kurt looked up when he walked in, cheeks flushing when their eyes met. Before he could bring himself to look away another memory flashed in his mind, of Puck standing in front of him with that stupid smirk on his face and a ring in one hand.
Kurt remembered smiling, maybe even laughing at the ridiculousness of Puck putting a ring on his finger. He realized he was smiling at the memory when Puck raised his eyebrows, then he crossed the room and stopped in front of Kurt.
“Puck,” Kurt said at the same time Puck said, “Listen.”
“Just hear me out for a second,” Puck said, then he reached up to rest a hand on the back of his neck, and Kurt vividly remembered watching him do the same thing just that morning, only he was wearing a lot less clothes at the time.
“Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about last night. Guess I should have figured out you were too drunk to know what you were doing. It was just that you seemed really into the idea, you know? It was kind of cute.”
For a few seconds Kurt just blinked at him, because surely Puck hadn’t just used the word ‘cute’ in reference to him. But he must have, and that meant he’d also implied that this entire marriage fiasco was Kurt’s idea. That didn’t explain why Puck would go along with it, though, especially if he hadn’t been drinking.
He didn’t remember how the subject had come up in the first place, but he remembered long, slow kisses, and he remembered strong hands on him, and if Puck had gone through with a wedding just to get Kurt to sleep with him...
“Oh, God,” he murmured, blushing all the way to the roots of his hair. “Noah, did I...?”
That was as far as he got before the dressing room door opened again, and Schue appeared. “Puck, there you are. You need to get dressed, we don’t have much time.”
He slid an arm around Puck’s shoulders as he spoke, pulling him toward the rack where Puck’s costume was still hanging. Kurt watched them go, and when Puck glanced over his shoulder Kurt blushed and looked away.
~
They didn’t get another chance to talk before the competition was over. Puck held his own, in spite of skipping out on rehearsal, and Kurt blew his solo out of the water. The fact that they didn’t win the whole thing was a crime, as far as Puck was concerned, but Rachel had done enough rehashing of the winning performance for all of them, so he kept his mouth shut.
Instead he passed the time after the competition watching Kurt, mostly. He was trying not to be one of those creepy stalker types, because Kurt had made it pretty clear that he wasn’t interested in a repeat performance or anything. Still, that didn’t mean Puck couldn’t appreciate the view, especially when Kurt was looking all flushed and pleased with himself, soaking up the compliments the rest of the group kept tossing in his direction.
Well, Mercedes and Finn, anyway, though the rest of them were more or less ignoring him. Usually that was how they treated Puck, but Kurt was one of their kind, so it was a little weird to see him being frozen out.
“Enough sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves, guys,” Mercedes finally said. “So we didn’t win; we still made it to Nationals, right? That deserves a celebration. Ladies, didn’t we make plans to catch Celine’s show tonight?”
Rachel perked up at that, and both of them turned to look at Kurt. It took him a second to catch on that they were waiting for him to say something, but when he finally looked up he flashed the smile he usually reserved for teachers.
“Sorry, girls, I seem to have spent my ticket money on a wedding.”
All eyes swung in Puck’s direction, but he was too busy watching Kurt to notice. Then Kurt looked at him, and Puck shrugged and chanced a smile. “Hey, I sprang for the rings.”
Kurt’s gaze drifted to Puck’s finger, and Puck touched his ring with his thumb. He’d been doing it all day, which was kind of weird, considering Kurt had ditched his ring the first chance he got. But for some reason Puck just couldn’t bring himself to take his off, and when Kurt looked up at him again he was sort of glad he hadn’t.
It was stupid. He knew it was stupid, just like he knew that Kurt was right and they weren’t really married. It felt pretty real last night, though, and the longer Kurt kept looking at him the more Puck let himself hope that maybe Kurt didn’t hate the idea of them so much after all.
They were all still wearing their costumes, and Puck glanced down at the Union Jack shirt and the weird, not-actually-leather pants someone had conned Schue into letting them wear. Finn, probably, since he was the only one Schue ever listened to, but Puck was pretty sure it wasn’t Finn who’d come up with the wardrobe. Usually it was Kurt who picked out their clothes, and when Puck looked at him again he could see why Kurt had chosen this.
The shirts were sleeveless, which meant the guys got to show off their guns, and granted, Kurt wasn’t as built as the rest of them, but he still had some decent definition. A dancer’s body, he’d heard somebody call it once, and after last night Puck could testify that there wasn’t a lot Kurt couldn’t do with it. He was pretty flexible, anyway, and Puck’s cock stirred in his fake leather pants when he pictured the things Kurt had done with it.
Not as much as Puck wanted -- not by a long shot -- but it was a start, and if Puck ever got another chance, he’d make damn sure Kurt remembered everything in the morning.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the show,” Mercedes was saying, but she didn’t sound much like she meant it. “We could stay here and celebrate together.”
“To be honest, I’m not really up for celebrating,” Kurt said. “You go on. You can tell me all about it on the plane ride home tomorrow.”
He didn’t exactly look at Puck while he said it, but his head sort of turned in Puck’s direction, just for a second before he caught himself and focused on Mercedes again. It wasn’t much, and maybe it didn’t even mean anything, but Kurt hadn’t shut him down completely when Puck apologized, so maybe there was a chance he wasn’t planning to freeze Puck out forever.
“At least come help pick out our outfits for the show,” Mercedes said, and Kurt smiled and let her pull him out of his chair. A second later he was being escorted out of the room by Mercedes, Tina and Rachel, all three of them talking a mile a minute about what clothes they’d brought, like anybody at a fucking Celine Dion show was going to be looking at what they were wearing.
Puck didn’t even realize he was still staring in the direction they’d disappeared until a hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to find Finn watching him. He was making that weird face that meant he was either totally uncomfortable, or he was trying not to cry. Puck guessed it probably had something to do with the fact that he’d married Finn’s stepbrother, but he wasn’t really interested in making Finn feel better about it.
“Dude, you want to come out with us? Beiste and Schue want to take everybody else out to celebrate without the lame music. I think we’re just going to hit the all-night buffet or something.”
“No, thanks. I think I’m just gonna chill in the room tonight.”
Finn nodded, but he didn’t make himself scarce or anything. For a minute he just stood there giving Puck his worried face, and Puck was starting to think he was going to cry when Finn started talking again.
“Look, I’m sorry Kurt’s being kind of a jerk about all this. He probably just needs some time, you know, to come to terms or whatever.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Puck said. He stood up before Finn could get all weepy and, like, hug him or something, then he headed in the direction Kurt and his girls had disappeared.
He told himself it was better this way; he didn’t need to waste his last night in Vegas babysitting the rest of their sorry asses, and if Kurt didn’t want to talk to him, then there was no one around to care what Puck did with his time. Except the whole point had been that he wanted someone to care, and he’d kind of liked the idea of Kurt being that someone.
When he reached the lobby he glanced toward the elevators, but the thought of going back to his room and staring at the ceiling all night was too depressing. He was pretty sure the guys had pretty much destroyed the mini-bar, so he couldn’t even wallow in a decent drunk on McKinley’s dime. At the last second he turned on his heel and headed for the revolving doors at the front of the hotel, not even bothering to change out of his costume before he headed out into the Las Vegas night.
~
It took awhile to get rid of Mercedes and the others. The closer it got to show time the more nervous Kurt got that they might decide to skip out on Celine entirely and just stay in, but finally Rachel announced that it was time to go, and after one more round of hugs and a promise to Mercedes that he was fine, really, they left him alone.
Which left him...alone. He wasn’t sure where everyone else had gone; none of the others were really speaking to him, it seemed, and though some of them had softened a little after his solo performance, they still seemed intent on holding him responsible for this whole mess with Puck. It hardly seemed fair, considering he couldn’t even remember what happened, but for some reason they all seemed to think he’d hurt Puck’s feelings just by being honest.
It wasn’t as though he doubted Puck had feelings, he just never expected them to involve him. But after the way Puck had stormed out of the room during rehearsal, then the way he’d smiled at Kurt and touched that stupid ring, Kurt suddenly wasn’t so sure. He’d implied that the -- utterly cliche and completely humiliating -- wedding had been Kurt’s idea, but for a few seconds, it had been easy to believe that Puck had wanted it too.
Puck wanting to sleep with Kurt he could believe. After the Karofsky bombshell the year before, it wasn’t that difficult to buy that there was another closeted member of the football team. And Kurt wasn’t completely blind; he’d seen the changes in Puck, watched him grow a little...well, less pigheaded, anyway, over the past two years. He wasn’t sure if it was fatherhood or his stint in prison or just spending time with people who weren’t as vapid as McKinley’s elite that had changed him, but whatever it was, it had definitely been for the better.
So Puck had sprouted a sensitive side while Kurt wasn’t paying attention. It was unexpected, certainly, but Kurt was mature enough to admit that maybe he’d been less than fair in his handling of the whole unfortunate mess. Which meant there was really only one thing he could do about it, and it wasn’t going to kill him to apologize to Puck.
It wasn’t going to be his proudest moment, either, but it was best to get it over with. Kurt told himself he believed that and passed the door to his own room, forcing his legs to carry him down the hall to the room he’d woken up in that morning. He knocked as loud as he dared, glancing up and down the hall to make sure none of his so-called friends was lurking around to witness his latest humiliation.
The hall was deserted, and when Kurt didn’t get an answer to his second knock he had to concede that perhaps Puck wasn’t brooding alone in his room after all. He sighed and dug in his pocket for his phone, pressing Finn’s speed dial and hating himself a little for tracking Puck down like he really was Kurt’s wayward husband.
The thought sent a rush of some emotion he couldn’t name rolling through him, and he closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath while he waited for Finn to pick up. The line connected on the next ring, and Kurt heard the buzz of crowd noise in the background just ahead of Finn’s voice.
“Kurt?”
“Where are you?” Kurt asked, then he frowned and opened his eyes. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Is Puck with you?”
“Puck? No, he said he was planning to chill in the room,” Finn said. He was shouting over the noise, and Kurt guessed they were probably somewhere in the vicinity of a casino.
“Well, he’s not,” Kurt said, stomach twisting at the thought of what Puck might be up to on his own in Las Vegas. As though it was any of his business what Puck did or who he did it with, regardless of what had happened between them the night before. He knew better than to expect anything approaching an actual commitment from Puck, which was the whole reason Kurt should have known better than to sleep with him in the first place.
“Sorry, bro,” Finn said, then Kurt heard the muffled sound of someone’s voice -- Schue’s, he was pretty sure -- saying Finn’s name. “Listen, I gotta go. Why don’t you just call him, dude? He probably has his phone on him.”
Kurt frowned and hung up on Finn without answering. For a few seconds he stared down at his phone, wondering if he should take Finn’s advice and call Puck. But it felt too needy, too much like he was checking up on Puck, and anyway he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he might hear if Puck actually answered. He let out a sigh and turned toward his own room, but when he looked up and spotted the person walking down the hall toward him, his heart stopped and he felt his palms start to sweat.
He shoved his phone back in his pocket, trying to wipe his hands on his pants without being completely obvious as he watched Puck approaching. He was still wearing the Union Jack shirt and the faux leather pants Kurt had picked out for the boys’ number, arms on full display and looking...well, mouth-watering.
“Hey,” he said when he reached Kurt, gaze drifting down Kurt’s frame and then back up again.
“Hi,” Kurt said, voice a little breathier than he’d intended, and he cleared his throat and willed himself not to blush. “I was looking for you. Finn said you planned to stay in tonight.”
Puck shrugged and glanced over Kurt's shoulder for a second, then he looked back at Kurt. “I went down to that burger joint across the Strip to grab some dinner. They had one of those old-school video games, so I hung out for a little while. Then I remembered that my clothes were still in the dressing room, and I had to get one of the maintenance guys to let me in so I could get them.”
He held up the bundle of clothes hanging from one hand, and Kurt nodded idiotically and chanced a small smile. “You really went out in that outfit?”
“Yeah,” Puck said, glancing down at himself. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing,” Kurt answered. “I chose it myself, after all; I knew full well exactly how good it would look on you. It’s just that I can’t imagine you didn’t get propositioned a time or two, even in a burger joint.”
Puck shrugged again, which Kurt assumed meant that he’d at least noticed a few looks in his direction. The fact that he hadn’t done anything about it didn’t necessarily mean anything, but a tiny part of Kurt sort of hoped that it did.
“So why were you looking for me?”
“Oh,” Kurt said, forcing himself back to the reality that Puck was standing in front of him waiting for him to spit out what he wanted. “I just thought maybe we should clear the air. I mean, obviously we...”
He trailed off, heat creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, and Puck rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket for his room key.
“We got married, Kurt. We got married and came back here for what I thought was pretty decent sex, then you passed out and forgot the whole thing.”
He stepped around Kurt without waiting for an answer, unlocking the door to his room and for a second Kurt was too stunned to react. Because Noah Puckerman actually sounded hurt that Kurt couldn’t remember. Which was fair, Kurt supposed; it had to be a blow to his ego to have anyone forget a night with him. But the fact that Kurt didn't remember all the details didn’t mean he’d forgotten the way Puck’s hands felt on him or the way Puck smiled at him up close right before he kissed Kurt.
The way his mouth moved across Kurt’s jaw, up to his ear to whisper, I’m gonna make this good for you, baby, and as soon as Kurt remembered that he gasped and covered his mouth with his hand.
Puck paused with his hand on the door, glancing over his shoulder at Kurt. "What?”
“I didn’t...I didn’t forget. It’s just that the details are a little hazy.”
Puck let out a soft laugh, shaking his head and pushing his room door open. “You want to come in?”
Kurt nodded and followed Puck into the room, gaze straying to the bed that had been made by the hotel staff at some point during the afternoon. The bed where he'd apparently lost his virginity, and boy, did Kurt ever wish the details on that part were clear.
Puck crossed to an open duffel bag and dropped his clothes on top, then he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off. When he was finished he glanced up at Kurt, raising an eyebrow when Kurt didn’t move. “I’m not going to jump you or anything.”
Kurt flushed all over again and crossed to the bed, taking a seat a few feet away from Puck. There was no reason to be nervous; they were married, after all, and even if it didn’t count, they’d already slept together. So even if Puck didn’t want him again...but that was the thing, because Kurt was starting to get the distinct impression that he did.
“Noah,” he said, and when Puck glanced sharply at him Kurt realized that they weren’t really on a first name basis. At least they hadn’t been, but last night changed things Kurt probably hadn’t even realized yet. He swallowed against the sudden rush of butterflies in his stomach, then he took a deep breath and tried again. “Noah, please tell me I didn’t refuse to sleep with you unless you agreed to marry me.”
And there was that laugh again, soft and almost familiar and sending warmth curling in the base of Kurt’s stomach. “Truth is you refused to sleep with me at all.”
“Why on earth would I do that?” Kurt asked before he could stop himself. Still, it was a valid question, because he’d never expect a commitment from Puck, but he wasn’t stupid enough to turn down an offer of sex with one of the hottest guys he knew. At least he didn’t think he was that stupid, but it wasn’t as though he could actually remember.
“At first you seemed pretty into it,” Puck said, smiling at the memory and it was really hard to focus on the conversation when Puck was looking at him like that. “I mean, you kind of started it. But then you said something about me being your first and I’d just break your heart or whatever when I didn’t want to do it again. So I said we could get married first, if you wanted. I didn’t think you’d actually go for it; I was just trying to show you it didn’t have to be a one-time thing.”
“So it was a joke.” The words came out flat, and Kurt was sure Puck could hear the disappointment in his voice. Of course it had been a joke; he’d never thought for a second that Puck had actually meant it.
“I thought so right up until it happened. I mean, I tried to talk you out of it, but then you just called me a chicken and kissed me and I figured if I wanted you to keep doing that, I better go through with it.” Puck paused and let out another laugh, but this time the sound was forced. “Guess that didn’t work out so well.”
Kurt’s heart skipped a beat at the bitterness in his voice, and it didn’t make any sense, because Puck shouldn’t care whether or not Kurt wanted him. They were still a couple feet apart on the bed, and Kurt wanted to move closer, maybe kiss Puck just to prove that he was wrong about what Kurt wanted. But he didn’t have any experience at this sort of thing, and if it was too late and his chance had passed, he’d just end up heartbroken on top of the humiliation.
“I really am sorry,” he said instead, stealing another glance at Puck to find him watching Kurt. “I wish I could remember.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Kurt let out a laugh that sounded about as genuine as Puck’s had. “Not as much as I do, believe me. I know the first time isn’t as magical as they make it seem in the movies, but I’d prefer to at least remember mine.”
He felt the mattress dip a little, and when he looked up again, Puck was closer. Close enough to touch, and when he leaned in Kurt turned toward him before he could stop himself. He felt the warmth of Puck’s breath on his cheek, then a hand landed on his thigh and slid up a couple inches, and Kurt’s breath caught in his throat.
“What are you doing?”
As soon as he said it he pictured Puck’s smile, bright and happy as he leaned in close. Kurt remembered something firm against his back, bright lights flashing on their way past and he wasn’t positive, but it seemed as though they must have been in a taxi at some point. Then Puck’s lips brushed his and Kurt remembered laughing when Puck pulled back far enough to say, “Kissing my husband.”
That wasn’t what Puck said this time. He could still hear those other words ringing in his memory as Puck’s lips brushed against his jaw, and Kurt heard his own surprised intake of breath when Puck said, “Refreshing your memory.”
He wanted to laugh, because Puck had no idea how right he was. But he sort of wanted to cry, too, because the Puck in his memory had looked so happy, and if Kurt had been the one to make him smile like that, he needed to remember so he could make it happen again and again and again.
For a few blissful moments Kurt kissed Puck back. His hand curved around Puck’s cheek, fingers tracing the lines of his face and his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he was sure Puck could feel it. He wanted to stay right here, just like this, and keep letting Puck kiss him for as long as he wanted. He wanted to let Puck show him all the things they’d done last night, and this time Kurt was determined not to forget a single one.
“Noah,” he murmured against Puck’s mouth, hand leaving his cheek to rest against his shoulder. “I lied.”
And maybe that wasn’t the best way to say it, because Puck tensed against him and pulled away, but he didn’t let go of Kurt when he answered. “About what?”
“When I said the wedding wasn’t real,” Kurt said, and now his heart was pounding so hard Kurt could hear it pulsing against his eardrums. “It’s not legally binding, but that doesn’t mean it was meaningless.”
“Look, Kurt, I know it’s not legal,” Puck said, and Kurt felt some of the tension ease out of him where his hand was still pressed against Puck’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have let you go through with it if I thought it was.”
“But Ohio says Rachel’s dads aren’t really married, and they still take their vows seriously.” Kurt looked down at Puck’s chest, taking in the Union Jack still covering his torso and hoping he wasn’t about to ruin everything for a second time. “We’re not legally tied to one another, but what happens when we get back to Lima? Do we go our separate ways and hope it stops feeling like we’re connected somehow?”
“If that’s the way you want it,” Puck said, and this time he did let go of Kurt. “All I know is that last night, when I put that ring on your finger, it felt pretty real. I don’t know how fast that kind of feeling goes away.”
Kurt glanced down at Puck’s hand where it rested on the mattress next to his thigh. The ring was still there, a simple gold band and it didn’t look quite so cheap now that Kurt really looked at it. He’d been in such a hurry to get his off that he hadn’t thought much about the ring itself, but now...
“Why did you choose those rings?” he asked, looking up at Puck again.
Puck glanced down at his own hand, then back up at Kurt. “I didn’t. You did. You said...”
“That they were just like the one my mother gave to my father on their wedding day,” Kurt finished for him.
He remembered now, remembered standing in front of the jewelry case with Puck and feeling happy and a little like he was floating and ridiculously sentimental. Nostalgic -- and okay, tipsy -- enough to pass over the much more refined platinum bands in favor of the yellow gold that had gone out of fashion years ago.
And Puck had just smiled and kissed him, then looked at the woman behind the counter and said, “Guess my man has spoken.”
Kurt blinked and looked over at Puck, taking in the set of his shoulders and his guarded expression. He hadn’t seen Puck like that in a long time, maybe not since he came back to McKinley for their senior year. It wasn’t his best look; Kurt much preferred the smiling, happy Puck from the cab ride back to the hotel, the one who’d made a big show of referring to Kurt as his husband over and over, until Kurt kissed him just to shut him up for awhile.
“Are you saying you’d like to see this marriage through?” Kurt asked, frowning because surely that couldn’t be what Puck meant.
But instead of laughing in his face, Puck just shrugged and managed somehow to look even more nervous. “It’s not like we can get unmarried, right?”
He had a point, but that didn’t mean they were obligated to...Kurt wasn’t even sure what this meant. Most married people lived together, for one thing, and while they were both eighteen, they still had several weeks of high school left. Then there was the fact that they both still lived with their parents, and Kurt knew full well that his father wasn’t going to let Puck move in just because Kurt had gotten drunk and done something stupid while he was in Vegas.
The fact that he might actually be a little in love with Puck already wasn’t going to do much to sway his father’s opinion.
“We barely know each other.”
Another shrug, but Puck swayed a little closer, and Kurt found himself leaning into the solid warmth of Puck’s side. “So we get to know each other. Go on dates and stuff. We skipped ahead a little bit, yeah, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work.”
Kurt smiled in spite of himself, and when Puck smiled back at him his heart beat a little faster. “So I’m dating my...husband.”
“Say that again,” Puck said, leaning in to brush his lips against Kurt’s neck, and Kurt let out a little sigh and tilted his head.
“What, ‘husband’?”
“Yeah.” Puck’s mouth pressed against his, and Kurt parted his lips and let Puck push him backwards onto the mattress. He paused long enough to look down at Kurt, his grin sending a shiver of want down Kurt’s spine. “I like how it sounds when you say it.”
“It sounds pretty good when you say it, too,” Kurt said, hands on the front of Puck’s shirt to drag him forward. Their mouths were nearly touching when Puck paused, blinking down at Kurt for a second.
“When did I say it?”
“Last night. In the cab,” Kurt said, frowning for a second as he searched his memory. “And in the elevator. And all the way down the hall to your room, at least until I made you stop.”
“You remember that?” Puck grinned, and he looked so happy about it that Kurt wished all over again that he could remember everything.
What he could remember seemed unbelievable, but nothing was more unbelievable than the idea that Puck actually wanted to be married to him, and for the first time Kurt was almost sure anything was possible. He reached up to rest his hand against Puck’s cheek, just looking for a long moment, but when he registered the sight of his bare finger against Puck’s skin he gasped and pushed at Puck’s shoulders until Puck took the hint and rolled off him.
“What’s the problem?” Puck asked, and he sounded so resigned that Kurt almost regretted pushing him away. Almost, but not quite, because if they were going to do this, he wanted to do it right.
“Just...hold that thought,” Kurt said, then he pressed a hard kiss against Puck’s lips. “I’ll be right back.”
Part Five