Fic: Stars and Birds 2/2 (Glee, Kurt/Puck, PG13)
Title: Stars and Birds 2/2
Fandom: Glee/Project Runway
Pairing: Kurt/Puck (minor Finn/Will, Sam/Mercedes)
Rating: PG13
Word count: 18,575
Summary: It's season whatever of Project Runway, and Kurt's made it to the top seven and the dreaded menswear challenge. The assignment: To design a red carpet-worthy look for Broadway star Will Schuester to wear to the Tonys. Kurt's the only designer smart enough to find a way around tailoring pants, but he's relying on a model he's never worked with before to sell his concept to the judges and to Will. Enter Noah Puckerman, runway model. He knows how to work a runway, and he's determined to see that Kurt wins.
A/N: This is the first of my au_bigbang fics. Be sure to check out the accompanying art by rinnia. Many thanks to jengeorge for the beta.
Part One
By the time Kurt collapsed into bed he was feeling pretty good about his look. Noah wasn’t much of a seamstress, but he’d managed not to completely mangle the bow tie, and letting him finish it had freed Kurt up to design a vest that would work with his shirt.
The vest was a perfect solution, in retrospect. He should have come up with it himself, and maybe he would have, given enough time. But time was the one thing they didn’t have during this process, and he knew if he won tomorrow he’d owe at least part of it to Noah. He didn’t even mind admitting it, though so far Noah hadn’t seemed all that interested in getting any credit.
Mostly he’d just hung around and watched Kurt work until Tim kicked the models out again, asking questions now and then as though he actually cared what Kurt was doing. If it was any of the other models Kurt might have thought he was just worried about being made to look ridiculous on the runway, but Noah seemed pretty convinced that he could rock any look a designer chose to throw at him.
And Kurt was starting to believe him, especially after he’d seen Noah walk in his outfit. He’d seen plenty of models with great walks, and he’d seen plenty of models ooze self-confidence. Noah was no different than any of them, and yet there was something about him that made Kurt want to know more.
He wasn’t naïve enough to think that was going to happen. Noah might enjoy flirting with him while they were working together, but it was only because he liked the attention. As soon as his job was done he’d go back to his life and forget all about Kurt, and with any luck Kurt would still have a competition to win.
Still, he appreciated Noah’s competitive spirit, and he was certainly grateful that of all the models he could have gotten, Noah was the one he’d been paired with. Mercedes’ model Jesse was a complete nightmare, second-guessing her design at every turn and complaining about the fit and the color. Noah’s roommate was nice enough, but his proportions really were bizarre, and Kurt was just as glad not to have to deal with fitting him. Blaine’s model was a bit on the short side, though Kurt supposed if anyone could design for a shorter model, it would be Blaine. Not that he’d done much designing; Kurt still hadn’t figured out what he’d spent the past two days doing, exactly.
Besides, his look was edgy enough that not just anyone could pull it off. A couple of the male models looked a bit like prep school students, and Noah’s roommate screamed ‘small town’. The only one edgy enough to pull off a kilt was Noah, when he really stopped to think about it.
The workroom door opened as Kurt was putting the finishing touches on the vest he’d designed the night before, and he looked up in time to watch Tim walk in. “Designers, I’m sending in your models. You’ll have one hour for hair in the Garnier Salon and makeup in the L’Oreal Studio. Mercedes, I’m afraid your model Jesse isn’t here yet. The agency’s trying to track him down now.”
All eyes swung toward Mercedes, but instead of the rant Kurt expected, her mouth dropped open and then closed a few times. “What am I supposed to do if he doesn’t show?”
“The agency’s working on a replacement, but I’m afraid you won’t have time for a new fitting,” Tim said. “You’re just going to have to make it work.”
Before Mercedes could come up with an answer for that he was gone, and the models were walking through the door. And they all knew that this sort of thing happened at runway shows, but that didn’t really help Mercedes. Kurt winced sympathetically as she stared at the look she’d just barely managed to make work in the first place.
“What’s the matter?” Noah said from his shoulder, and Kurt swallowed against the shiver that rolled down his spine.
“Mercedes’ model didn’t show,” Kurt said, turning away from her to look at Noah.
“Oh, yeah, that guy. He’s a total douche. She’s better off.”
He was already pulling his clothes off when Kurt turned around, and he felt his face heat up when he caught sight of a broad, muscular chest. He still hadn’t gotten quite used to the concept of a guy as hot as Noah taking off his clothes every time they were in the same room, and he wasn’t going to, because after today they were never going to see each other again. Still, he might need a few male models for his final collection, and there was a chance they’d let him request Noah again.
When he caught himself thinking it Kurt cleared his throat and turned away, reaching for the kilt and handing it over as Noah stepped out of his jeans. His boxer briefs were shorter than yesterday’s, the hem landing at mid-thigh and Kurt hoped that would be enough to keep the judges from seeing the legs when Noah moved.
As soon as he fastened the kilt Noah reached under it, and before Kurt could protest he tugged his underwear off and dropped them in the pile with the rest of his clothes. “Just in case.”
Kurt flushed even harder at Noah’s slow grin, then he turned away and reached for the shirt. He helped Noah slide into it, doing his best not to think about exactly what Noah wasn’t wearing under his kilt as he tugged the shirt closed and started working on the buttons. When he was finished he glanced down at the shirttails that were still hanging over the kilt, and when he looked up again Noah smiled and held his arms out to his sides.
“Surely you know how to tuck in your own shirt.”
“Hey, it’s your ass on the line, Princess. I just want to make sure I look exactly the way you want.”
Kurt rolled his eyes again and stepped forward, hands landing on Noah’s waist and tugging the shirt straight before he tucked in the front. He was careful not to touch any more skin than he had to, but he still blushed bright red when he looked up and found Noah watching him.
He wasn’t smiling anymore, but his eyes were darker than they had been the last time Kurt looked. His arms were still stretched out at his sides, hands open and looking for all the world like he was on offer.
Kurt swallowed hard at the thought and slid his arms around Noah’s waist, hands sliding under the waistband of the kilt to tuck the back of the shirt in. His fingers slid along bare skin, lingering for just a beat longer than necessary before he cleared his throat and took a step back. He could feel his blush spreading down his neck and across his chest, and he hoped there weren’t any cameras pointed in their direction.
“Let’s try the vest,” he said, and when Noah smirked Kurt knew he hadn’t missed the way Kurt’s voice caught in his throat.
“Looks good,” Noah said, looking down as Kurt held it out and let Noah slide his arms through the holes. The front was made of black wool lined with what was left of the satin, cut wide to show the pleating on the front of the shirt. The back piece was cut from the plaid, and Kurt smoothed his hands over the pattern before he turned Noah to face him again.
“I’m so glad you approve,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes and ducking his head to hide a pleased smile.
The truth was he was starting to value Noah’s opinion; he wasn’t a designer, but he knew clothes, thanks to his experience on the runway. Besides, the vest had been his suggestion, and even if Kurt designed it, Noah still deserved some of the credit.
“The fit’s perfect,” he said, pulling the vest closed at Noah’s waist and buttoning it across his stomach. “I just hope the plaid’s not too much.”
“I’m telling you, if Schuester gets a vote, you’ve got it in the bag. Seriously, you wouldn’t believe the vests this guy wears. I think he’s got a fetish.”
“It’s sort of disturbing that you know more about Will Schuester’s fashion sense than I do,” Kurt said as he pulled the bow tie around Noah’s neck. He held his breath while he tied the perfect bow, teeth digging into his bottom lip and working hard to ignore the heat of Noah’s laugh on his cheek.
“I told you, my roommate’s, like, stalking him.”
“He’s not going to throw himself off the runway or anything, is he? Because if he’s going to upstage my outfit I’d just as soon know now.”
“Please. Between your clothes and my walk, he could drive down the runway in a clown car and it wouldn’t upstage us.”
“Well, the clown car would go with his outfit.”
They both turned to look at Santana's bench, watching Finn frown at what looked like a bad costume from an off-off-Broadway production of The Pirates Of Penzance. Kurt was still trying to figure out what exactly was going on with her shirt when he felt a hand close around his, and he flushed when he realized his hand was still resting on Noah's shoulder.
His heart skipped a beat when he looked up to find Noah looking at him, and he swallowed and pulled his hand away. "We should get you into makeup before we run out of time."
"You're the boss," Noah said, but he was still looking, and Kurt had a feeling he wasn't going to stop blushing until this challenge was over.
Until Noah went back to wherever he'd come from and right back out of Kurt's life. It was a depressing thought, but Kurt managed to swallow his sigh as he unbuttoned the vest and helped Noah slide out of it. He turned to set the vest on his bench, but before he got more than a step away from Noah a hand reached out and closed around his wrist. Kurt looked back at him, heart pounding a little harder when he saw the look on Noah’s face.
“We got this, okay?” Noah said, like he really believed it, and the funny thing was, Kurt was starting to believe it too.
“Why do you care so much?” Kurt asked before he even realized he was thinking it, and he felt his face flush, but he didn’t try to take it back.
Noah shrugged and swayed a little closer, mouth quirking into a smirk that was starting to get way too familiar. “Because when you win you’re gonna want to thank me, and I’m planning to let you.”
A second later he was walking away, following Sam and his model out of the workroom and all Kurt could do was blush even harder and hurry to catch up.
~
When Puck got to the room where they had the makeup artists set up, most of the rest of the models were there with their designers. They were all talking about the fact that Jesse still hadn’t showed, but Puck didn’t see what the big deal was. When a model flaked at a real runway show it just meant whoever was the closet to his size stepped in; an extra wardrobe change wasn’t that big a deal, as long as the looks didn’t have to go out back-to-back.
“Why doesn’t Mike just do it?” Puck asked, nodding toward Sam’s model. “He’s the closest to Jesse’s build. At least he’s got the best chance of fitting in the clothes as is, right?”
“We can’t double up on models,” Sam said, but he looked pretty bummed about it, like he felt bad for not volunteering Mike. “The judges want to see all the looks on the runway at the end of the show, and we can’t show two looks at the same time if there’s only one model.”
“So...what, she gets disqualified if Jesse doesn’t show?”
“Surely they wouldn’t disqualify her,” Kurt said from behind him, and Puck turned to take in still-pink cheeks and the way Kurt’s arms were crossed over his chest. “Would they?”
“They can’t,” Matt’s designer, the Asian chick with the blue streaks in her hair, said. “It’s not her fault her model’s unreliable. They’ll just send someone else.”
“Yeah, and then she won’t have time to fit him, and she’ll still be screwed,” Sam said. He frowned in the direction of the door for a second, then he turned back to the makeup artists and waved one of them over. “Listen, just make him look hot, okay? It’s not much of a challenge; he’s pretty hot already.”
Sam shoved Mike in her direction before she could answer, then he bolted out of the makeup room and back in the direction of the workroom.
“What was that about?” Puck asked once he was gone, but when he looked at Kurt he just shrugged.
“For all I know he just remembered a sale on peroxide at Duane Reade.” Kurt glanced toward the door, then he turned back to Puck and looked him over. “I suppose there’s not much to do with your hair. Unless...”
“What?” Puck asked when Kurt paused, reaching up to run a hand over his close-cropped curls. They were a little longer than usual, but considering ‘usual’ for him was a buzz cut, that wasn’t saying much. Still, Kurt was staring at him like he’d never really looked at him before, and Puck knew for a fact that that wasn’t true.
“Nothing. I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Have I said no to you yet?” Puck said, and when Kurt flushed he smirked and swayed a little closer. “I sewed for you, babe.”
For a second Kurt just blinked at him like maybe Puck had started speaking a different language all of a sudden. It was pretty cute, and Puck figured it was worth whatever Kurt was about to ask. Anyway, he was right; there wasn’t much he could do to change Puck’s look, unless the peroxide joke had given him an idea.
“It could backfire,” Kurt said. He reached out and ran his fingers through Puck’s hair like he was testing fabric instead of just looking for an excuse to touch, and he totally sucked at flirting, but Puck didn’t really mind.
“Try me,” he said, pushing back against Kurt’s fingers, and when he realized he was still touching Kurt blushed and let go.
“Would you consider a mohawk?”
“What, you think I can’t rock a mohawk?”
“It’s not a question of whether or not you can. It’s a question of whether or not you’re willing.”
Puck grinned, slow and warm and when he leaned even closer he heard Kurt’s breath catch in his throat. “I’m willing.”
~
Kurt left Noah in the makeup chair with instructions to make him look ‘edgy’. What that translated to, as far as he could tell, was lots of kohl eyeliner smudged under Noah’s eyes. Once he was done in the makeup chair the hairstylists would get their hands on him, and Kurt hoped his mohawk idea wouldn’t turn out to be a mistake.
He had no doubt Noah would look good no matter what they did to his hair, but there was a chance the judges would find the mohawk to be a bit much. Too dated, maybe; less punk rock and more costume party. Kurt hoped that it would lend itself to the overall ‘rock star’ look he was going for, but he knew he was taking a risk.
The fact that Noah was willing to go through with it was kind of a surprise, except that it was true that Noah hadn’t refused him anything yet. For the past two days Kurt had assumed the flirting didn’t really mean anything, that as soon as the job was over Noah would go back to his life and forget all about whatever passing attraction he might have felt for Kurt.
Except Noah had as good as admitted that he was already thinking about what happened after the challenge was over. Maybe he didn’t know that Kurt wasn’t allowed contact with the outside world until he was eliminated, but the fact that he wanted contact with Kurt at any point was…well, unexpected, to say the least.
Kurt smiled to himself as he walked back into the workroom, heading for his bench to pick up his vest. When he realized he wasn’t alone in the room he glanced over at Mercedes’ work bench, eyes widening a little at the sight of Sam standing in front of Mercedes with his arms stretched out to his sides.
He was wearing her look, flashing his toothpaste commercial smile in Kurt’s direction as Mercedes fitted him in her pants. And Kurt had to admit that the fit wasn’t terrible; clearly she had more work to do than she really had time for, but at least she was sending a look down the runway, even if it wasn’t perfect.
“Trying on a new career, just in case you get eliminated?” Kurt said, raising an eyebrow when Sam laughed.
“Just being a team player.” Sam grinned at him for another second, then he looked down at Mercedes. “Besides, it’s a good look. Mercedes should be able to show it.”
When Mercedes smiled up at him Kurt rolled his eyes, but the truth was he was glad she was going to get a chance to show. It didn’t seem fair that she should suffer just because she had the bad luck to draw the wrong model, and at least with Sam stepping in it meant she had a little time to get the fit right.
“You’re a lifesaver, Sam,” Mercedes said, watching as he slid the pants off and handed them back to her. “And you’re hotter than that jerk Jesse, too.”
Sam flashed his toothpaste commercial smile at her this time, then he reached for his shorts and pulled them on. “I better go get them to do something with my hair while you finish the pants. I’ll be back before the show starts.”
He leaned in, hand resting on her elbow to brush his lips across her cheek. When he pulled back he grinned again, then he turned and headed back out of the workroom in Mercedes’ shirt and tie and his shorts. Kurt rolled his eyes again, turning back to Mercedes in time to watch her smile to herself.
“I’m glad he’s helping you,” Kurt said, and it was still true, but he couldn’t help wondering what Sam’s motivation for helping Mercedes was. It was one thing to be a team player, but if that was his only reason he was laying it on kind of thick. “I suppose knights in shining armor can come in surfer blond too.”
Mercedes laughed and glanced over at him, and for someone who had less than an hour and sewing to do, she was in an awfully good mood. “Sam’s a really nice person.”
Kurt made a little humming noise that could have meant he was agreeing with her, then he picked up his vest to follow her to the sewing room. He finished his button holes while she let out the seams on her pants for the second time, sighing occasionally, and whenever Kurt looked at her she was wearing a dreamy smile that didn’t correspond at all with the amount of stress she should be feeling.
“Sam’s really nice,” Kurt said after awhile, laying his vest flat and making sure the buttons lined up before he turned to look at her. “But he really likes attention.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kurt sighed and waited until she finished the last seam on her pants, then he reached for a pair of scissors and started helping her cut loose threads. “It means don’t go falling in love just because he did something sweet.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but before she got the words out the sewing room door opened, and they both looked up to find Noah walking in. His eyes were dark and smoky and his hair was completely gone except for a thick stripe right down the center of his skull. He was wearing the kilt and tuxedo shirt with a pair of heavy black boots, and when he spotted Kurt and smirked, Kurt’s heart skipped a beat.
“I won’t if you won’t,” Mercedes said, but Kurt was too busy staring at Noah to hear her.
~
The show went off without a hitch, as far as Kurt was concerned. Noah delivered everything he’d promised and more on the runway, somehow managing to look both dangerous and fashion-forward without looking like he was trying too hard. Kurt’s clothes moved perfectly on him, and he had no idea what Heidi or Nina or Michael thought, but he was fairly sure at least Will had liked his look.
Still, the runway show was the easy part; all they had to do was sit there and watch their models do the work. The hard part came after the show was over, when the producers lined them up and made them all file onstage to find out who was in danger of going home.
Kurt lined up with the others, heart in his throat as he turned to face the judges. Heidi introduced them for the sake of the cameras, and all the designers smiled and nodded as though they wouldn’t rather be anywhere other than exactly where they were.
“If I call your name, please step forward. Tina,” Heidi said, smiling in that sweet way that told Kurt Tina was about to get a reprieve. “Congratulations, your score has qualified you to continue in the competition. You can leave the runway.”
Once Tina was gone Heidi turned back to them, her smile a little more grim. “Designers, you represent the best and the worst. One of you will be the winner, and one of you will be out. Let’s bring out your models.”
Kurt turned to watch the remaining five models file onto the runway. Sam was already standing next to Mercedes, so the rest of the models took their places next to their designers. When Noah stopped next to him Kurt looked over, forcing a tight-lipped smile before he turned to face the judges again.
He felt Noah’s shoulder press against his and leaned into the touch, and when he felt a hand land on his back Kurt bit his bottom lip to hold back a gasp. Noah’s fingers splayed across the small of his back, warm and strong and pressing just for a moment before he let go and let his hands fall to his sides. It was over practically as soon as it started, but it lasted long enough to distract Kurt from the nerves making his stomach flutter as the judges looked at their outfits up close.
“Sam, let’s start with you,” Heidi said, and Kurt glanced over to watch Sam smile at her. “Tell us about your look.”
Noah’s shoulder was still pressed against his, warm and solid and it was hard to pay attention to whatever Sam was saying when all he could focus on was the fact that Noah was touching him.
“What’s the jacket made out of?” Michael asked, and Kurt leaned around Noah far enough to look at Sam’s jacket.
“It’s fleece. I thought the texture would be interesting.”
“It’s a good thing you chose a fleece,” Michael said, “because otherwise it’s just a boring gray jacket.”
“I like the jacket,” Will said, leaning forward in his chair and giving Sam the same smile he gave Kurt right before he told him his look wouldn’t cut it on the red carpet, “but I can’t really wear fleece to the Tonys.”
Kurt glanced at the plaid wool on the back of his vest and hoped it wouldn’t fall into the same category as fleece. Then again, he’d only made a vest, not a full jacket, so at least it wouldn’t be as hot in June.
“Next we’d like to hear from Mercedes,” Heidi said. “Mercedes, tell us about your look and your model.”
“My model bailed,” Mercedes said, glancing at Sam long enough to smile, “but that’s okay, because Sam looks better in my clothes anyway.”
“I have to say, Sam, I’m impressed. You walked the runway as though you’ve done it before. However,” Heidi said, “that doesn’t make up for the fact that these pants just don’t work.”
“Yeah, what’s going on with the crotch?” Michael added.
Kurt tuned out the judges as they critiqued Mercedes’ design, focusing instead on the look on her face. He could tell she was trying not to lose her temper, but just when he thought she was going to snap Sam reached over and put his arm around her. Just like that she calmed right down, and okay, it was sweet, but it didn’t change the fact that Sam was a flirt.
And sure, Noah was a flirt too, but so far the only person Kurt had seen him flirt with was...well, Kurt.
He tuned back in when they said Santana’s name, glancing at Noah when the word ‘clown’ came out of Michael’s mouth. If Noah was listening he didn’t show it; his expression was completely blank, and the dark smudges around his eyes made him look almost angry. But his shoulder was still pressed against Kurt’s, and when Kurt felt the pressure increase just slightly he knew Noah was listening.
“Seriously,” Heidi added, “the shirt kind of looks like a Disney pirate costume or something.”
“The pants aren’t horrible,” Nina said, but her head was tilted kind of sideways, and that was never a good sign. “Will, would you wear this?”
“Maybe on stage,” Will said, and he was still smiling, but it looked almost painful. “Though the pants fit really well. Do you mind turning around so we can see the back again?”
Kurt watched Will’s gaze shift to the model’s ass as Noah’s roommate turned around. He glanced at Noah, watching one eyebrow arch as Will Schuester checked out his roommate. Kurt coughed to cover a laugh, hand clamped over his mouth and pressing hard against Noah’s shoulder.
“Thanks,” Will said when Finn turned around again, his smile more genuine this time. “I’m curious what you think of it, Mr...”
“Finn. Finn Hudson,” Santana’s model said, blushing and glancing in Santana’s direction before he turned back to Will. His whole face was flushed, the blush spreading down his neck and making the clown pirate shirt look even weirder. “It’s not really my style. I know it’s not yours either, Will. I tried...”
He stopped, glancing at Santana again, and when he saw the look on her face he leaned away from her. “I mean...I just want to say that it’s an honor to meet you. I’m a big fan.”
Will’s smile this time was the one he usually reserved for red carpets, bright and boyish and Finn’s face went from bright pink to an almost painful-looking red. It was...sort of cute, and the fact that Santana looked like she wasn’t sure whose eyes to scratch out first just added to the effect.
“Kurt,” Heidi said as the judges all turned to look at him. “Tell us about your look.”
“Well, I wanted to bring a little drama to the red carpet,” Kurt said, taking in his outfit, and when he saw how well it fit Noah, he knew he had to be in the top three. “And since it’s the Tonys, something a little theatrical works. I used the plaid as a sort of nod to the tradition of the kilt.”
Noah turned as he spoke, and Kurt reached for the back of the kilt and opened one of the pleats to show the pattern hidden inside. As soon as he touched the kilt he remembered exactly what Noah wasn’t wearing underneath it, and he cleared his throat and willed himself not to blush as Noah turned around again.
“Will, I want to hear what you think of the idea of a kilt on the red carpet,” Heidi said, flashing the smile that either meant she loved it and didn’t want to show her cards yet, or she thought Kurt had lost his mind and didn’t want to be the first to say so.
“You know, when you first said you were doing a kilt I wasn’t sure what to think,” Will said. “But the vest is a great answer to a more formal jacket, and the whole thing looks really well-made. I could see this on the red carpet.”
“Thank you,” Kurt said, a pleased smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
“I’d go a little less Braveheart with the makeup if I were you,” Michael said, and when the judges laughed Kurt felt his face heat up.
“I’d probably skip the mohawk too,” Will answered, still smiling, and Kurt was starting to wonder if he ever stopped. “Though it really works on your model.”
He didn’t say he wouldn’t wear the look, though, and that was what Kurt cared about. In fact, he sounded like he really liked it, and when Nina called it ‘innovative’, he thought they might actually have a chance at winning. And he wasn’t sure when he’d starting thinking of them as a team, but Noah had helped out a lot with the challenge, so the win was really both of theirs.
Once the judges moved on to Brittany’s look Kurt let out a deep breath and stole another glance at Noah, and when he found Noah watching him his heart skipped a beat. Noah leaned in and Kurt swallowed hard, but instead of touching him again Noah leaned around him to look at Brittany’s model. The movement brought them back in contact, Noah’s chest pressing against Kurt’s side and when a hand landed on his ass this time Kurt didn’t quite stifle a gasp.
“Stop,” he hissed under his breath, eyes on the judges to make sure none of them were paying attention to what Noah was doing. Thankfully they were too busy trying to follow Brittany while she described her creative process to notice what was going on between him and his model, and Kurt couldn’t really say he was surprised.
It seemed as though Brittany’s creative process consisted of draping whatever fabric made her feel like she was wrapped in sunshine and rainbows and then sending it down the runway. It had worked for her so far, though, and considering what the judges had to say about her pants, Kurt had a feeling this week wasn’t going to be any different.
Noah laughed, but his hand disappeared, and there was a part of Kurt that was sorry he’d said anything. Still, they were standing in front of the judges, not to mention the cameras, and eventually someone was going to notice how close Noah was.
He was grateful when the judges finished and Heidi dismissed them, even though he knew how long they were going to have to wait to find out who was going home. When he remembered that the models wouldn’t be joining them during the wait he was a little less grateful, especially when it dawned on him that he might not even see Noah after the results were announced.
And it was stupid, because they barely knew each other, but that didn’t stop Kurt’s stomach from tying into a knot when he looked over at Noah. He opened his mouth to say something - thank you, maybe, or just goodbye - but before he got the words out Noah’s hand closed around his and Kurt found himself being pulled away from the rest of the designers.
“What are you doing?” Kurt asked, heart pounding in his chest as he glanced in the direction of the lounge where they usually waited for the judges to call them back onto the runway. “Noah, I have to go. The producers...”
Instead of answering, Noah gripped his hand a little harder and steered him toward a closed door. He turned the knob and pulled Kurt into what turned out to be some kind of storeroom, kicking the door closed behind them and flipping on a light switch to reveal shelves with rows of what looked like spare sewing machine parts.
As soon as the door was closed Noah’s hands were on his hips, pushing him back against the shelves and pressing close, and Kurt’s heart pounded so hard he was sure he was having some kind of attack. “You’re going to get me disqualified.”
“They’re not going to notice you’re gone for a couple minutes,” Noah said, grinning like he actually knew what he was talking about. “I just wanted to give you this.”
Noah reached between them, fingers sliding under the waistband of the kilt, and Kurt tried and failed to stifle a gasp. Then Noah slid something out of the kilt and held it up, smirking when Kurt blushed and rolled his eyes at the sight of a piece of paper.
“It’s my number. When you make top three and they let you out of here, give me a call and I’ll let you thank me for helping you win today.”
“I haven’t won yet,” Kurt answered, but he reached out to close his fingers around the piece of paper in Noah’s hand. “There’s still a chance they’ll give it to Brittany again. The judges love her. No one can figure out why.”
And now he was just babbling, but when he felt a hand slide into his hair Kurt stopped talking. He looked up to find Noah watching him, eyes dark, and he wasn’t smiling anymore, but something about his expression made Kurt shiver against him.
“You’re gonna win, Kurt. But call me even if you don’t.”
Kurt nodded idiotically, but before he could open his mouth and embarrass himself by saying something stupid, Noah was kissing him. His hand was still in Kurt’s hair, sliding down to the back of his neck to hold him in place. The kiss was slow, softer than Kurt expected and almost sweet, as though Noah was committing the moment to memory.
The thought made Kurt’s heart skip a beat, and when his lips parted on a sigh Noah took the in and slid his tongue past Kurt’s teeth. Kurt’s arms slid around Noah’s waist, over the back of his kilt and he was glad he’d used wool so he didn’t have to worry about leaving wrinkles in the fabric.
Noah’s hand left his back to reach for one of Kurt’s hands, sliding it further down and lifting the kilt until Kurt’s hand was pressed against bare skin. Kurt’s fingers curved around the swell of Noah’s ass, dragging him closer and when their cocks ground together Noah moaned into his mouth. And they didn’t have time for this, but if it was the last chance they got before Kurt made it to the final three, he wasn’t going to pass it up.
He wasn’t going to pass up Noah’s hands on him, pushing up under his shirt and stroking down his skin like Noah couldn’t get close enough. He wasn’t going to pass up the feel of Noah’s mouth on his neck, sucking hard at his skin as Kurt rocked up against him, fingers still kneading his ass in an effort to get even more. It was too much and nowhere near enough, and Kurt didn’t even care if he got in trouble with the producers for disappearing right in the middle of taping.
As soon as he thought it there was a knock on the door, then the muffled sound of someone saying Kurt’s name. A producer, he was pretty sure, which meant they knew exactly where he and Noah had disappeared to. Kurt groaned and pressed his forehead into Noah’s shoulder, just breathing for a second before he pulled his hand away from Noah’s ass and smoothed the kilt back down.
“Call me. Promise,” Noah said, his lips brushing Kurt’s cheek right up next to his ear, and it was sweet in a way that made Kurt’s breath catch.
“I promise,” Kurt answered. He pulled back to look at Noah, reaching up to slide his thumb along Noah’s cheekbone. “This is the first time I’ve sort of hoped I don’t make it to final three.”
Noah smiled and turned into Kurt’s touch, lips brushing Kurt’s palm and sending a jolt of want straight to Kurt’s cock. “No way, babe. You’ve got this thing in the bag. I’m not going anywhere.”
For a second Kurt just blinked at him; he was fairly sure Noah had just promised to wait for him, as unbelievable as that was. Then the producer knocked on the door again and Kurt sighed, leaning in to press one last kiss to Noah’s lips. “Thank you, Noah.”
“Hey, all I did was show up and look good,” Noah said, and when Kurt rolled his eyes Noah laughed and let go of him. He pulled the door open and slipped back into the hallway, cheeks flushing when the producer raised an eyebrow at him.
“I think we’ll do a quick interview.”
Kurt shook his head and followed the producer to the interview room, sliding onto the stool and reaching up to press his fingers to kiss-swollen lips.
“So you seem to have hit it off with your model for this challenge,” the producer said, and Kurt blushed even harder and didn’t look into the camera.
“No comment,” he said, but he couldn’t quite hide his smile.
~
Once Kurt was gone Puck leaned against the door of the supply closet, and he knew he was grinning like an idiot, but there was no one around to see him, so he figured it didn’t matter. He stayed put until he was sure Kurt was gone, then he pulled the door open and stepped back into the hallway. By the time he found the room where the rest of the models were waiting out the results he wasn’t hard anymore, at least, which was good, considering he was still wearing Kurt’s kilt.
“Where’d you go?” Finn asked when Puck walked in, moving over to make room for Puck on the couch.
“Just taking care of some business,” Puck answered, grinning when Finn frowned at him. “Speaking of which, way to be smooth on the runway, dude. ‘I’m a big fan’? That’s the best you could come up with?”
“What’d you want me to do, throw myself off the runway?” Finn asked, but he was blushing again, and Puck didn’t bother trying not to laugh.
“Probably would have worked. He totally checked out your ass when he made you turn around, dude.”
“Really?” Finn said, glancing toward the door like maybe he was expecting Will Schuester to walk through and propose or something. And they both knew that wasn’t going to happen, but now that Puck had something going with Kurt, he sort of hoped Finn did get a shot with Will out of all this.
“Yeah, dude, he was totally into you,” Puck said. “He didn’t ask what I thought of wearing a skirt, did he?”
Finn opened his mouth to answer, maybe to argue that it wasn’t about him so much as the clown suit he was wearing, but before he got the words out the TV on the wall across from them switched on. All the models leaned forward to watch the designers file back onto the stage, lining up in front of the judges to find out who won and who got sent packing.
And yeah, the prize for the model who was paired with the winning designer was decent, but Puck didn’t care about a gift bag from some big name designer as much as he cared that he’d rocked Kurt’s outfit well enough to get him the win. He leaned forward on the couch, elbows on his knees and totally focused on Kurt while Heidi delivered her usual speech about somebody getting the boot.
They all clapped when Heidi told Sam he was safe, then they sent Mercedes back to safety too, and Puck was glad she didn’t get the boot just because she got stuck with Jesse. Then the camera closed in on Kurt, and when Heidi said his name Puck stopped breathing. He tuned out the rest of the models, focusing on the way Kurt’s lips kept trying to curve into a smile in spite of the fact that he was waiting to hear his fate.
“Congratulations,” Heidi finally said, “you are the winner of this challenge.”
As soon as she said it Kurt stopped trying to fight his smile, and Puck’s heart skipped a beat at the look on his face. He knew he was grinning like an idiot again, but he figured the rest of the guys would chalk it up to him winning the extra prize. Except maybe Finn, but he just clapped Puck on the shoulder and said, “Congratulations, man. You guys deserve it.”
“Thanks,” Puck said, but he didn’t take his eyes off the screen even long enough to grin at Finn. He watched while Kurt blushed, then headed off the runway and back to the designers’ holding area.
Once Kurt was gone he stopped paying attention, because it didn’t matter who got sent home. They all got paid either way, but it was easy to get caught up in the drama when they were all involved in the competition. So he wasn’t surprised that the rest of the models kept holding their breath while they listened to the judges declare Brittany safe, then it was down to Santana and Blaine.
And it didn’t make a difference to Finn if his designer got the boot, but he still watched while Santana scraped by and Blaine got sent home. Then again, it was possible Finn was staring at the screen in the hope of another glimpse of Will, and Puck couldn’t even blame him, because all he really wanted to do was go find Kurt and kiss him again.
~
Final three wasn’t exactly what Kurt expected. For one thing, he’d sort of expected to be in the final three with Mercedes and maybe Sam. But the judges had loved Brittany all along, so he wasn’t all that surprised when in the end they chose her over Mercedes to show at Fashion Week.
Still, it felt great to make the final three, until it really sank in exactly how much work he had to do in the next six months. It was longer than most people assumed they got, thanks to the show’s schedule, but it still wasn’t that much time to come up with a cohesive collection. So he hugged the others and wished them luck, then he headed back to his tiny studio in Brooklyn and locked himself in alone for the first time in over six weeks.
He found Noah’s phone number tucked into the pocket of his favorite pants, carefully folded so that the crease wouldn’t fade any of the numbers before he got a chance to dial them. Once he was home with his cell phone and absolute privacy he took it out again, setting it on the single bed that was the only other piece of furniture in the room besides his sewing table and staring at it for awhile.
It had been a few weeks since Noah pulled him into that closet and kissed him as though his life depended on it. Since Noah made him promise to call, and sure, he’d meant it at the time, but a few weeks was practically a lifetime in a model’s social life, and chances were good Noah had already moved on.
He might not even remember Kurt, and if he called only to be met with a “Wait, who is this again?” Kurt was pretty sure he’d die of humiliation. Then again, if Noah has already forgotten him, at least Kurt didn’t have to worry about running into him at any industry functions and embarrassing himself.
He considered leaving it to fate. Designing some menswear to go in his collection, then requesting Noah as one of his models, and if he showed and remembered Kurt, then it was meant to be. Except that if Kurt didn’t call and Noah really was waiting to hear from him, he might be hurt enough by the time Fashion Week rolled around to refuse to walk in Kurt’s clothes.
“This is ridiculous,” Kurt said, his voice too loud in the quiet studio. He rolled his eyes at himself and picked up his cell, punching in the number before he could change his mind.
It connected on the second ring, and when Kurt heard Noah’s voice on the other end of the line, his heart actually skipped a beat. “Hello?”
“Noah?”
For a second there was no answer, and Kurt wondered if perhaps he’d made a mistake after all. Then Noah let out a sigh, and Kurt pictured him running his hand over his shaved scalp. “Babe, what took you so long? I was starting to think you were going to blow me off.”
Kurt felt the heat rising up his neck and into his cheeks, and he was glad Noah wasn’t there to see him blush. “I just got home today. I made it to the final three, if you can believe that.”
“I said you would, didn’t I?” Noah said, his smile clear in his voice and Kurt didn’t bother trying not to grin. “So when are we going out to celebrate? I want to see you.”
“I still owe you that thank you,” Kurt said, cheeks flushing a little harder when Noah laughed.
“You don’t owe me, but I’ll take it anyway. I’ll take whatever, just tell me when I can see you again.”
“Are you free tomorrow?” As soon as he said it he sort of regretted not telling Noah to just come over right now, but they’d waited this long, and he wanted to do this right.
“Yeah,” Noah said, voice dropping a little and sending a shiver up Kurt’s spine. “For you, I’m always free.”
~
“Babe, shake a leg or you’ll miss it.”
“One second,” Kurt called. He swung the fridge shut and picked up his glass and a fresh beer, then he headed into the tiny living room and settled on the couch. As soon as he sat down Puck’s arm slid around his shoulders, lips brushing his cheek as he pulled the beer out of Kurt’s grip.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Kurt said, turning to press a kiss to the corner of Puck’s mouth before he pulled back and settled against his shoulder.
Puck grinned and pulled him a little closer, swinging his feet up on the second-hand coffee table and scanning the crowd on the TV screen until he spotted a familiar face. “There they are.”
“Where?” Kurt leaned forward to squint at the screen, and when he saw the outfit he’d designed on the red carpet he let out a weird little squeak he’d never actually admit to and gripped Puck’s thigh. “Oh, my clothes look better than I thought they would.”
“Not as good as when I wore them,” Puck said, and it was true, so it wasn’t like Kurt was going to try to deny it.
“Yes, but you didn’t wear them on the red carpet at the Tonys. Do you know what this kind of exposure can do for my career?” Kurt said, like Puck hadn’t heard this speech a million times in the past year.
They watched while Will stopped in front of some talking head with a microphone, then he reached off-camera and grabbed for something, and a second later Finn was being hauled into frame. Puck snorted a laugh and shook his head at the sight of Finn towering over Will, red-faced and looking like he’d just woken up and realized he wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
Not that Puck really blamed him. It was still kind of hard to believe that Will Schuester had gone to all the trouble to track down their agency and send over front-row tickets to his latest show after a three-second conversation on Project Runway. What was even more unbelievable was the fact that Finn had taken his mom, but she was in town that week and it wasn’t like he could tell her he was ditching her with his roommates for the night so he could make a booty call.
So he took her to a Broadway show instead, and apparently Will was into the cornball Midwestern routine, because he was nice to Finn’s mom, then he called Finn the next day and asked him out again. Since then they’d been pretty much joined at the hip, and maybe Finn hadn’t expected to end up on the red carpet at the Tonys, but he was going to have to get used to it, because Will was crazy about him.
When the interviewer asked about Will’s kilt he smiled into the camera and said Kurt’s name, and Puck laughed when Kurt squealed again and grabbed for his hand this time. “Did you hear that? I’m going to be famous.”
“You’re already famous, babe,” Puck said, and it was kind of true, because a lot of people still recognized him from the show even a year later.
At first it bugged Kurt that they mostly recognized him as the guy who lost to that Brittany chick, but after awhile he embraced the concept of all publicity being the good kind, and he was making it work for him. He’d found a website to sell his line, anyway, and he was doing a decent business in pre-sales. It wasn’t enough for them to move to Manhattan or anything, but between his line and the jobs Puck was booking these days, they were doing okay.
“I told you it didn’t matter if you won the show. Do you see Brittany getting name-checked at a nationally syndicated awards show?”
Kurt smiled and turned far enough to brush a kiss across Puck’s jaw, then he turned back to the TV in time to watch Will pull Finn into the interview and introduce him as his boyfriend.
“Practically jailbait arm candy, more like,” Puck said, laughing again and lifting his beer to take a long pull.
Kurt smacked him in the center of his chest, but he managed not to spill beer down the front of his shirt. “I think they look sweet together. Besides, you know Will’s crazy about him.”
“Believe me, I know. I have to hear about it through the wall all the damn time.”
Puck paused and leaned forward to set his beer on the coffee table, planting his feet on the floor and sliding his arm off Kurt’s shoulders to turn toward him. He’d been thinking about bringing up the subject for awhile, but the timing had always been bad and he kept finding reasons to put it off. Now was as good a time as any, though, so he took a breath and reached for Kurt’s hand.
“Speaking of which, they’re moving in together.”
“Really? When?” Kurt asked, eyes kind of wide. And it had kind of seemed for awhile now like Finn and Will already lived together, but it was still going to be kind of weird not to come home from a job and find Finn sprawled on the couch, taking up most of the room with his giant legs and surfing the entertainment news for a Schue Sighting.
“Our lease is up at the end of the month, and Will’s got that sweet place in Brooklyn. I guess he finally talked Finn into being a kept man.” Puck shrugged and glanced at the TV again, but Will and Finn were gone and the interviewer was talking to some old dude in a regular tux now. “The other guys have a lead on a place in Harlem, so I was thinking maybe we should move in together too.”
“You and me?” Kurt said, like it was the first time the thought had ever crossed his mind. But he was blushing, and Puck knew from experience that was a good sign.
“Unless you’ve got a better offer. I mean, you’re a famous Project Runway star now, people are probably beating down your door.”
Kurt cut him off with a hard kiss against his lips, and when he pulled back he was smiling even bigger than Will when the cameras were on him. “The best thing I got out of Runway was you.”
For a second Puck just grinned back at him, then he shrugged and leaned in to brush his lips against the corner of Kurt’s mouth.
“Damn straight, babe,” he whispered, then he kissed Kurt again.
Fandom: Glee/Project Runway
Pairing: Kurt/Puck (minor Finn/Will, Sam/Mercedes)
Rating: PG13
Word count: 18,575
Summary: It's season whatever of Project Runway, and Kurt's made it to the top seven and the dreaded menswear challenge. The assignment: To design a red carpet-worthy look for Broadway star Will Schuester to wear to the Tonys. Kurt's the only designer smart enough to find a way around tailoring pants, but he's relying on a model he's never worked with before to sell his concept to the judges and to Will. Enter Noah Puckerman, runway model. He knows how to work a runway, and he's determined to see that Kurt wins.
A/N: This is the first of my au_bigbang fics. Be sure to check out the accompanying art by rinnia. Many thanks to jengeorge for the beta.
Part One
By the time Kurt collapsed into bed he was feeling pretty good about his look. Noah wasn’t much of a seamstress, but he’d managed not to completely mangle the bow tie, and letting him finish it had freed Kurt up to design a vest that would work with his shirt.
The vest was a perfect solution, in retrospect. He should have come up with it himself, and maybe he would have, given enough time. But time was the one thing they didn’t have during this process, and he knew if he won tomorrow he’d owe at least part of it to Noah. He didn’t even mind admitting it, though so far Noah hadn’t seemed all that interested in getting any credit.
Mostly he’d just hung around and watched Kurt work until Tim kicked the models out again, asking questions now and then as though he actually cared what Kurt was doing. If it was any of the other models Kurt might have thought he was just worried about being made to look ridiculous on the runway, but Noah seemed pretty convinced that he could rock any look a designer chose to throw at him.
And Kurt was starting to believe him, especially after he’d seen Noah walk in his outfit. He’d seen plenty of models with great walks, and he’d seen plenty of models ooze self-confidence. Noah was no different than any of them, and yet there was something about him that made Kurt want to know more.
He wasn’t naïve enough to think that was going to happen. Noah might enjoy flirting with him while they were working together, but it was only because he liked the attention. As soon as his job was done he’d go back to his life and forget all about Kurt, and with any luck Kurt would still have a competition to win.
Still, he appreciated Noah’s competitive spirit, and he was certainly grateful that of all the models he could have gotten, Noah was the one he’d been paired with. Mercedes’ model Jesse was a complete nightmare, second-guessing her design at every turn and complaining about the fit and the color. Noah’s roommate was nice enough, but his proportions really were bizarre, and Kurt was just as glad not to have to deal with fitting him. Blaine’s model was a bit on the short side, though Kurt supposed if anyone could design for a shorter model, it would be Blaine. Not that he’d done much designing; Kurt still hadn’t figured out what he’d spent the past two days doing, exactly.
Besides, his look was edgy enough that not just anyone could pull it off. A couple of the male models looked a bit like prep school students, and Noah’s roommate screamed ‘small town’. The only one edgy enough to pull off a kilt was Noah, when he really stopped to think about it.
The workroom door opened as Kurt was putting the finishing touches on the vest he’d designed the night before, and he looked up in time to watch Tim walk in. “Designers, I’m sending in your models. You’ll have one hour for hair in the Garnier Salon and makeup in the L’Oreal Studio. Mercedes, I’m afraid your model Jesse isn’t here yet. The agency’s trying to track him down now.”
All eyes swung toward Mercedes, but instead of the rant Kurt expected, her mouth dropped open and then closed a few times. “What am I supposed to do if he doesn’t show?”
“The agency’s working on a replacement, but I’m afraid you won’t have time for a new fitting,” Tim said. “You’re just going to have to make it work.”
Before Mercedes could come up with an answer for that he was gone, and the models were walking through the door. And they all knew that this sort of thing happened at runway shows, but that didn’t really help Mercedes. Kurt winced sympathetically as she stared at the look she’d just barely managed to make work in the first place.
“What’s the matter?” Noah said from his shoulder, and Kurt swallowed against the shiver that rolled down his spine.
“Mercedes’ model didn’t show,” Kurt said, turning away from her to look at Noah.
“Oh, yeah, that guy. He’s a total douche. She’s better off.”
He was already pulling his clothes off when Kurt turned around, and he felt his face heat up when he caught sight of a broad, muscular chest. He still hadn’t gotten quite used to the concept of a guy as hot as Noah taking off his clothes every time they were in the same room, and he wasn’t going to, because after today they were never going to see each other again. Still, he might need a few male models for his final collection, and there was a chance they’d let him request Noah again.
When he caught himself thinking it Kurt cleared his throat and turned away, reaching for the kilt and handing it over as Noah stepped out of his jeans. His boxer briefs were shorter than yesterday’s, the hem landing at mid-thigh and Kurt hoped that would be enough to keep the judges from seeing the legs when Noah moved.
As soon as he fastened the kilt Noah reached under it, and before Kurt could protest he tugged his underwear off and dropped them in the pile with the rest of his clothes. “Just in case.”
Kurt flushed even harder at Noah’s slow grin, then he turned away and reached for the shirt. He helped Noah slide into it, doing his best not to think about exactly what Noah wasn’t wearing under his kilt as he tugged the shirt closed and started working on the buttons. When he was finished he glanced down at the shirttails that were still hanging over the kilt, and when he looked up again Noah smiled and held his arms out to his sides.
“Surely you know how to tuck in your own shirt.”
“Hey, it’s your ass on the line, Princess. I just want to make sure I look exactly the way you want.”
Kurt rolled his eyes again and stepped forward, hands landing on Noah’s waist and tugging the shirt straight before he tucked in the front. He was careful not to touch any more skin than he had to, but he still blushed bright red when he looked up and found Noah watching him.
He wasn’t smiling anymore, but his eyes were darker than they had been the last time Kurt looked. His arms were still stretched out at his sides, hands open and looking for all the world like he was on offer.
Kurt swallowed hard at the thought and slid his arms around Noah’s waist, hands sliding under the waistband of the kilt to tuck the back of the shirt in. His fingers slid along bare skin, lingering for just a beat longer than necessary before he cleared his throat and took a step back. He could feel his blush spreading down his neck and across his chest, and he hoped there weren’t any cameras pointed in their direction.
“Let’s try the vest,” he said, and when Noah smirked Kurt knew he hadn’t missed the way Kurt’s voice caught in his throat.
“Looks good,” Noah said, looking down as Kurt held it out and let Noah slide his arms through the holes. The front was made of black wool lined with what was left of the satin, cut wide to show the pleating on the front of the shirt. The back piece was cut from the plaid, and Kurt smoothed his hands over the pattern before he turned Noah to face him again.
“I’m so glad you approve,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes and ducking his head to hide a pleased smile.
The truth was he was starting to value Noah’s opinion; he wasn’t a designer, but he knew clothes, thanks to his experience on the runway. Besides, the vest had been his suggestion, and even if Kurt designed it, Noah still deserved some of the credit.
“The fit’s perfect,” he said, pulling the vest closed at Noah’s waist and buttoning it across his stomach. “I just hope the plaid’s not too much.”
“I’m telling you, if Schuester gets a vote, you’ve got it in the bag. Seriously, you wouldn’t believe the vests this guy wears. I think he’s got a fetish.”
“It’s sort of disturbing that you know more about Will Schuester’s fashion sense than I do,” Kurt said as he pulled the bow tie around Noah’s neck. He held his breath while he tied the perfect bow, teeth digging into his bottom lip and working hard to ignore the heat of Noah’s laugh on his cheek.
“I told you, my roommate’s, like, stalking him.”
“He’s not going to throw himself off the runway or anything, is he? Because if he’s going to upstage my outfit I’d just as soon know now.”
“Please. Between your clothes and my walk, he could drive down the runway in a clown car and it wouldn’t upstage us.”
“Well, the clown car would go with his outfit.”
They both turned to look at Santana's bench, watching Finn frown at what looked like a bad costume from an off-off-Broadway production of The Pirates Of Penzance. Kurt was still trying to figure out what exactly was going on with her shirt when he felt a hand close around his, and he flushed when he realized his hand was still resting on Noah's shoulder.
His heart skipped a beat when he looked up to find Noah looking at him, and he swallowed and pulled his hand away. "We should get you into makeup before we run out of time."
"You're the boss," Noah said, but he was still looking, and Kurt had a feeling he wasn't going to stop blushing until this challenge was over.
Until Noah went back to wherever he'd come from and right back out of Kurt's life. It was a depressing thought, but Kurt managed to swallow his sigh as he unbuttoned the vest and helped Noah slide out of it. He turned to set the vest on his bench, but before he got more than a step away from Noah a hand reached out and closed around his wrist. Kurt looked back at him, heart pounding a little harder when he saw the look on Noah’s face.
“We got this, okay?” Noah said, like he really believed it, and the funny thing was, Kurt was starting to believe it too.
“Why do you care so much?” Kurt asked before he even realized he was thinking it, and he felt his face flush, but he didn’t try to take it back.
Noah shrugged and swayed a little closer, mouth quirking into a smirk that was starting to get way too familiar. “Because when you win you’re gonna want to thank me, and I’m planning to let you.”
A second later he was walking away, following Sam and his model out of the workroom and all Kurt could do was blush even harder and hurry to catch up.
~
When Puck got to the room where they had the makeup artists set up, most of the rest of the models were there with their designers. They were all talking about the fact that Jesse still hadn’t showed, but Puck didn’t see what the big deal was. When a model flaked at a real runway show it just meant whoever was the closet to his size stepped in; an extra wardrobe change wasn’t that big a deal, as long as the looks didn’t have to go out back-to-back.
“Why doesn’t Mike just do it?” Puck asked, nodding toward Sam’s model. “He’s the closest to Jesse’s build. At least he’s got the best chance of fitting in the clothes as is, right?”
“We can’t double up on models,” Sam said, but he looked pretty bummed about it, like he felt bad for not volunteering Mike. “The judges want to see all the looks on the runway at the end of the show, and we can’t show two looks at the same time if there’s only one model.”
“So...what, she gets disqualified if Jesse doesn’t show?”
“Surely they wouldn’t disqualify her,” Kurt said from behind him, and Puck turned to take in still-pink cheeks and the way Kurt’s arms were crossed over his chest. “Would they?”
“They can’t,” Matt’s designer, the Asian chick with the blue streaks in her hair, said. “It’s not her fault her model’s unreliable. They’ll just send someone else.”
“Yeah, and then she won’t have time to fit him, and she’ll still be screwed,” Sam said. He frowned in the direction of the door for a second, then he turned back to the makeup artists and waved one of them over. “Listen, just make him look hot, okay? It’s not much of a challenge; he’s pretty hot already.”
Sam shoved Mike in her direction before she could answer, then he bolted out of the makeup room and back in the direction of the workroom.
“What was that about?” Puck asked once he was gone, but when he looked at Kurt he just shrugged.
“For all I know he just remembered a sale on peroxide at Duane Reade.” Kurt glanced toward the door, then he turned back to Puck and looked him over. “I suppose there’s not much to do with your hair. Unless...”
“What?” Puck asked when Kurt paused, reaching up to run a hand over his close-cropped curls. They were a little longer than usual, but considering ‘usual’ for him was a buzz cut, that wasn’t saying much. Still, Kurt was staring at him like he’d never really looked at him before, and Puck knew for a fact that that wasn’t true.
“Nothing. I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Have I said no to you yet?” Puck said, and when Kurt flushed he smirked and swayed a little closer. “I sewed for you, babe.”
For a second Kurt just blinked at him like maybe Puck had started speaking a different language all of a sudden. It was pretty cute, and Puck figured it was worth whatever Kurt was about to ask. Anyway, he was right; there wasn’t much he could do to change Puck’s look, unless the peroxide joke had given him an idea.
“It could backfire,” Kurt said. He reached out and ran his fingers through Puck’s hair like he was testing fabric instead of just looking for an excuse to touch, and he totally sucked at flirting, but Puck didn’t really mind.
“Try me,” he said, pushing back against Kurt’s fingers, and when he realized he was still touching Kurt blushed and let go.
“Would you consider a mohawk?”
“What, you think I can’t rock a mohawk?”
“It’s not a question of whether or not you can. It’s a question of whether or not you’re willing.”
Puck grinned, slow and warm and when he leaned even closer he heard Kurt’s breath catch in his throat. “I’m willing.”
~
Kurt left Noah in the makeup chair with instructions to make him look ‘edgy’. What that translated to, as far as he could tell, was lots of kohl eyeliner smudged under Noah’s eyes. Once he was done in the makeup chair the hairstylists would get their hands on him, and Kurt hoped his mohawk idea wouldn’t turn out to be a mistake.
He had no doubt Noah would look good no matter what they did to his hair, but there was a chance the judges would find the mohawk to be a bit much. Too dated, maybe; less punk rock and more costume party. Kurt hoped that it would lend itself to the overall ‘rock star’ look he was going for, but he knew he was taking a risk.
The fact that Noah was willing to go through with it was kind of a surprise, except that it was true that Noah hadn’t refused him anything yet. For the past two days Kurt had assumed the flirting didn’t really mean anything, that as soon as the job was over Noah would go back to his life and forget all about whatever passing attraction he might have felt for Kurt.
Except Noah had as good as admitted that he was already thinking about what happened after the challenge was over. Maybe he didn’t know that Kurt wasn’t allowed contact with the outside world until he was eliminated, but the fact that he wanted contact with Kurt at any point was…well, unexpected, to say the least.
Kurt smiled to himself as he walked back into the workroom, heading for his bench to pick up his vest. When he realized he wasn’t alone in the room he glanced over at Mercedes’ work bench, eyes widening a little at the sight of Sam standing in front of Mercedes with his arms stretched out to his sides.
He was wearing her look, flashing his toothpaste commercial smile in Kurt’s direction as Mercedes fitted him in her pants. And Kurt had to admit that the fit wasn’t terrible; clearly she had more work to do than she really had time for, but at least she was sending a look down the runway, even if it wasn’t perfect.
“Trying on a new career, just in case you get eliminated?” Kurt said, raising an eyebrow when Sam laughed.
“Just being a team player.” Sam grinned at him for another second, then he looked down at Mercedes. “Besides, it’s a good look. Mercedes should be able to show it.”
When Mercedes smiled up at him Kurt rolled his eyes, but the truth was he was glad she was going to get a chance to show. It didn’t seem fair that she should suffer just because she had the bad luck to draw the wrong model, and at least with Sam stepping in it meant she had a little time to get the fit right.
“You’re a lifesaver, Sam,” Mercedes said, watching as he slid the pants off and handed them back to her. “And you’re hotter than that jerk Jesse, too.”
Sam flashed his toothpaste commercial smile at her this time, then he reached for his shorts and pulled them on. “I better go get them to do something with my hair while you finish the pants. I’ll be back before the show starts.”
He leaned in, hand resting on her elbow to brush his lips across her cheek. When he pulled back he grinned again, then he turned and headed back out of the workroom in Mercedes’ shirt and tie and his shorts. Kurt rolled his eyes again, turning back to Mercedes in time to watch her smile to herself.
“I’m glad he’s helping you,” Kurt said, and it was still true, but he couldn’t help wondering what Sam’s motivation for helping Mercedes was. It was one thing to be a team player, but if that was his only reason he was laying it on kind of thick. “I suppose knights in shining armor can come in surfer blond too.”
Mercedes laughed and glanced over at him, and for someone who had less than an hour and sewing to do, she was in an awfully good mood. “Sam’s a really nice person.”
Kurt made a little humming noise that could have meant he was agreeing with her, then he picked up his vest to follow her to the sewing room. He finished his button holes while she let out the seams on her pants for the second time, sighing occasionally, and whenever Kurt looked at her she was wearing a dreamy smile that didn’t correspond at all with the amount of stress she should be feeling.
“Sam’s really nice,” Kurt said after awhile, laying his vest flat and making sure the buttons lined up before he turned to look at her. “But he really likes attention.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kurt sighed and waited until she finished the last seam on her pants, then he reached for a pair of scissors and started helping her cut loose threads. “It means don’t go falling in love just because he did something sweet.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but before she got the words out the sewing room door opened, and they both looked up to find Noah walking in. His eyes were dark and smoky and his hair was completely gone except for a thick stripe right down the center of his skull. He was wearing the kilt and tuxedo shirt with a pair of heavy black boots, and when he spotted Kurt and smirked, Kurt’s heart skipped a beat.
“I won’t if you won’t,” Mercedes said, but Kurt was too busy staring at Noah to hear her.
~
The show went off without a hitch, as far as Kurt was concerned. Noah delivered everything he’d promised and more on the runway, somehow managing to look both dangerous and fashion-forward without looking like he was trying too hard. Kurt’s clothes moved perfectly on him, and he had no idea what Heidi or Nina or Michael thought, but he was fairly sure at least Will had liked his look.
Still, the runway show was the easy part; all they had to do was sit there and watch their models do the work. The hard part came after the show was over, when the producers lined them up and made them all file onstage to find out who was in danger of going home.
Kurt lined up with the others, heart in his throat as he turned to face the judges. Heidi introduced them for the sake of the cameras, and all the designers smiled and nodded as though they wouldn’t rather be anywhere other than exactly where they were.
“If I call your name, please step forward. Tina,” Heidi said, smiling in that sweet way that told Kurt Tina was about to get a reprieve. “Congratulations, your score has qualified you to continue in the competition. You can leave the runway.”
Once Tina was gone Heidi turned back to them, her smile a little more grim. “Designers, you represent the best and the worst. One of you will be the winner, and one of you will be out. Let’s bring out your models.”
Kurt turned to watch the remaining five models file onto the runway. Sam was already standing next to Mercedes, so the rest of the models took their places next to their designers. When Noah stopped next to him Kurt looked over, forcing a tight-lipped smile before he turned to face the judges again.
He felt Noah’s shoulder press against his and leaned into the touch, and when he felt a hand land on his back Kurt bit his bottom lip to hold back a gasp. Noah’s fingers splayed across the small of his back, warm and strong and pressing just for a moment before he let go and let his hands fall to his sides. It was over practically as soon as it started, but it lasted long enough to distract Kurt from the nerves making his stomach flutter as the judges looked at their outfits up close.
“Sam, let’s start with you,” Heidi said, and Kurt glanced over to watch Sam smile at her. “Tell us about your look.”
Noah’s shoulder was still pressed against his, warm and solid and it was hard to pay attention to whatever Sam was saying when all he could focus on was the fact that Noah was touching him.
“What’s the jacket made out of?” Michael asked, and Kurt leaned around Noah far enough to look at Sam’s jacket.
“It’s fleece. I thought the texture would be interesting.”
“It’s a good thing you chose a fleece,” Michael said, “because otherwise it’s just a boring gray jacket.”
“I like the jacket,” Will said, leaning forward in his chair and giving Sam the same smile he gave Kurt right before he told him his look wouldn’t cut it on the red carpet, “but I can’t really wear fleece to the Tonys.”
Kurt glanced at the plaid wool on the back of his vest and hoped it wouldn’t fall into the same category as fleece. Then again, he’d only made a vest, not a full jacket, so at least it wouldn’t be as hot in June.
“Next we’d like to hear from Mercedes,” Heidi said. “Mercedes, tell us about your look and your model.”
“My model bailed,” Mercedes said, glancing at Sam long enough to smile, “but that’s okay, because Sam looks better in my clothes anyway.”
“I have to say, Sam, I’m impressed. You walked the runway as though you’ve done it before. However,” Heidi said, “that doesn’t make up for the fact that these pants just don’t work.”
“Yeah, what’s going on with the crotch?” Michael added.
Kurt tuned out the judges as they critiqued Mercedes’ design, focusing instead on the look on her face. He could tell she was trying not to lose her temper, but just when he thought she was going to snap Sam reached over and put his arm around her. Just like that she calmed right down, and okay, it was sweet, but it didn’t change the fact that Sam was a flirt.
And sure, Noah was a flirt too, but so far the only person Kurt had seen him flirt with was...well, Kurt.
He tuned back in when they said Santana’s name, glancing at Noah when the word ‘clown’ came out of Michael’s mouth. If Noah was listening he didn’t show it; his expression was completely blank, and the dark smudges around his eyes made him look almost angry. But his shoulder was still pressed against Kurt’s, and when Kurt felt the pressure increase just slightly he knew Noah was listening.
“Seriously,” Heidi added, “the shirt kind of looks like a Disney pirate costume or something.”
“The pants aren’t horrible,” Nina said, but her head was tilted kind of sideways, and that was never a good sign. “Will, would you wear this?”
“Maybe on stage,” Will said, and he was still smiling, but it looked almost painful. “Though the pants fit really well. Do you mind turning around so we can see the back again?”
Kurt watched Will’s gaze shift to the model’s ass as Noah’s roommate turned around. He glanced at Noah, watching one eyebrow arch as Will Schuester checked out his roommate. Kurt coughed to cover a laugh, hand clamped over his mouth and pressing hard against Noah’s shoulder.
“Thanks,” Will said when Finn turned around again, his smile more genuine this time. “I’m curious what you think of it, Mr...”
“Finn. Finn Hudson,” Santana’s model said, blushing and glancing in Santana’s direction before he turned back to Will. His whole face was flushed, the blush spreading down his neck and making the clown pirate shirt look even weirder. “It’s not really my style. I know it’s not yours either, Will. I tried...”
He stopped, glancing at Santana again, and when he saw the look on her face he leaned away from her. “I mean...I just want to say that it’s an honor to meet you. I’m a big fan.”
Will’s smile this time was the one he usually reserved for red carpets, bright and boyish and Finn’s face went from bright pink to an almost painful-looking red. It was...sort of cute, and the fact that Santana looked like she wasn’t sure whose eyes to scratch out first just added to the effect.
“Kurt,” Heidi said as the judges all turned to look at him. “Tell us about your look.”
“Well, I wanted to bring a little drama to the red carpet,” Kurt said, taking in his outfit, and when he saw how well it fit Noah, he knew he had to be in the top three. “And since it’s the Tonys, something a little theatrical works. I used the plaid as a sort of nod to the tradition of the kilt.”
Noah turned as he spoke, and Kurt reached for the back of the kilt and opened one of the pleats to show the pattern hidden inside. As soon as he touched the kilt he remembered exactly what Noah wasn’t wearing underneath it, and he cleared his throat and willed himself not to blush as Noah turned around again.
“Will, I want to hear what you think of the idea of a kilt on the red carpet,” Heidi said, flashing the smile that either meant she loved it and didn’t want to show her cards yet, or she thought Kurt had lost his mind and didn’t want to be the first to say so.
“You know, when you first said you were doing a kilt I wasn’t sure what to think,” Will said. “But the vest is a great answer to a more formal jacket, and the whole thing looks really well-made. I could see this on the red carpet.”
“Thank you,” Kurt said, a pleased smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
“I’d go a little less Braveheart with the makeup if I were you,” Michael said, and when the judges laughed Kurt felt his face heat up.
“I’d probably skip the mohawk too,” Will answered, still smiling, and Kurt was starting to wonder if he ever stopped. “Though it really works on your model.”
He didn’t say he wouldn’t wear the look, though, and that was what Kurt cared about. In fact, he sounded like he really liked it, and when Nina called it ‘innovative’, he thought they might actually have a chance at winning. And he wasn’t sure when he’d starting thinking of them as a team, but Noah had helped out a lot with the challenge, so the win was really both of theirs.
Once the judges moved on to Brittany’s look Kurt let out a deep breath and stole another glance at Noah, and when he found Noah watching him his heart skipped a beat. Noah leaned in and Kurt swallowed hard, but instead of touching him again Noah leaned around him to look at Brittany’s model. The movement brought them back in contact, Noah’s chest pressing against Kurt’s side and when a hand landed on his ass this time Kurt didn’t quite stifle a gasp.
“Stop,” he hissed under his breath, eyes on the judges to make sure none of them were paying attention to what Noah was doing. Thankfully they were too busy trying to follow Brittany while she described her creative process to notice what was going on between him and his model, and Kurt couldn’t really say he was surprised.
It seemed as though Brittany’s creative process consisted of draping whatever fabric made her feel like she was wrapped in sunshine and rainbows and then sending it down the runway. It had worked for her so far, though, and considering what the judges had to say about her pants, Kurt had a feeling this week wasn’t going to be any different.
Noah laughed, but his hand disappeared, and there was a part of Kurt that was sorry he’d said anything. Still, they were standing in front of the judges, not to mention the cameras, and eventually someone was going to notice how close Noah was.
He was grateful when the judges finished and Heidi dismissed them, even though he knew how long they were going to have to wait to find out who was going home. When he remembered that the models wouldn’t be joining them during the wait he was a little less grateful, especially when it dawned on him that he might not even see Noah after the results were announced.
And it was stupid, because they barely knew each other, but that didn’t stop Kurt’s stomach from tying into a knot when he looked over at Noah. He opened his mouth to say something - thank you, maybe, or just goodbye - but before he got the words out Noah’s hand closed around his and Kurt found himself being pulled away from the rest of the designers.
“What are you doing?” Kurt asked, heart pounding in his chest as he glanced in the direction of the lounge where they usually waited for the judges to call them back onto the runway. “Noah, I have to go. The producers...”
Instead of answering, Noah gripped his hand a little harder and steered him toward a closed door. He turned the knob and pulled Kurt into what turned out to be some kind of storeroom, kicking the door closed behind them and flipping on a light switch to reveal shelves with rows of what looked like spare sewing machine parts.
As soon as the door was closed Noah’s hands were on his hips, pushing him back against the shelves and pressing close, and Kurt’s heart pounded so hard he was sure he was having some kind of attack. “You’re going to get me disqualified.”
“They’re not going to notice you’re gone for a couple minutes,” Noah said, grinning like he actually knew what he was talking about. “I just wanted to give you this.”
Noah reached between them, fingers sliding under the waistband of the kilt, and Kurt tried and failed to stifle a gasp. Then Noah slid something out of the kilt and held it up, smirking when Kurt blushed and rolled his eyes at the sight of a piece of paper.
“It’s my number. When you make top three and they let you out of here, give me a call and I’ll let you thank me for helping you win today.”
“I haven’t won yet,” Kurt answered, but he reached out to close his fingers around the piece of paper in Noah’s hand. “There’s still a chance they’ll give it to Brittany again. The judges love her. No one can figure out why.”
And now he was just babbling, but when he felt a hand slide into his hair Kurt stopped talking. He looked up to find Noah watching him, eyes dark, and he wasn’t smiling anymore, but something about his expression made Kurt shiver against him.
“You’re gonna win, Kurt. But call me even if you don’t.”
Kurt nodded idiotically, but before he could open his mouth and embarrass himself by saying something stupid, Noah was kissing him. His hand was still in Kurt’s hair, sliding down to the back of his neck to hold him in place. The kiss was slow, softer than Kurt expected and almost sweet, as though Noah was committing the moment to memory.
The thought made Kurt’s heart skip a beat, and when his lips parted on a sigh Noah took the in and slid his tongue past Kurt’s teeth. Kurt’s arms slid around Noah’s waist, over the back of his kilt and he was glad he’d used wool so he didn’t have to worry about leaving wrinkles in the fabric.
Noah’s hand left his back to reach for one of Kurt’s hands, sliding it further down and lifting the kilt until Kurt’s hand was pressed against bare skin. Kurt’s fingers curved around the swell of Noah’s ass, dragging him closer and when their cocks ground together Noah moaned into his mouth. And they didn’t have time for this, but if it was the last chance they got before Kurt made it to the final three, he wasn’t going to pass it up.
He wasn’t going to pass up Noah’s hands on him, pushing up under his shirt and stroking down his skin like Noah couldn’t get close enough. He wasn’t going to pass up the feel of Noah’s mouth on his neck, sucking hard at his skin as Kurt rocked up against him, fingers still kneading his ass in an effort to get even more. It was too much and nowhere near enough, and Kurt didn’t even care if he got in trouble with the producers for disappearing right in the middle of taping.
As soon as he thought it there was a knock on the door, then the muffled sound of someone saying Kurt’s name. A producer, he was pretty sure, which meant they knew exactly where he and Noah had disappeared to. Kurt groaned and pressed his forehead into Noah’s shoulder, just breathing for a second before he pulled his hand away from Noah’s ass and smoothed the kilt back down.
“Call me. Promise,” Noah said, his lips brushing Kurt’s cheek right up next to his ear, and it was sweet in a way that made Kurt’s breath catch.
“I promise,” Kurt answered. He pulled back to look at Noah, reaching up to slide his thumb along Noah’s cheekbone. “This is the first time I’ve sort of hoped I don’t make it to final three.”
Noah smiled and turned into Kurt’s touch, lips brushing Kurt’s palm and sending a jolt of want straight to Kurt’s cock. “No way, babe. You’ve got this thing in the bag. I’m not going anywhere.”
For a second Kurt just blinked at him; he was fairly sure Noah had just promised to wait for him, as unbelievable as that was. Then the producer knocked on the door again and Kurt sighed, leaning in to press one last kiss to Noah’s lips. “Thank you, Noah.”
“Hey, all I did was show up and look good,” Noah said, and when Kurt rolled his eyes Noah laughed and let go of him. He pulled the door open and slipped back into the hallway, cheeks flushing when the producer raised an eyebrow at him.
“I think we’ll do a quick interview.”
Kurt shook his head and followed the producer to the interview room, sliding onto the stool and reaching up to press his fingers to kiss-swollen lips.
“So you seem to have hit it off with your model for this challenge,” the producer said, and Kurt blushed even harder and didn’t look into the camera.
“No comment,” he said, but he couldn’t quite hide his smile.
~
Once Kurt was gone Puck leaned against the door of the supply closet, and he knew he was grinning like an idiot, but there was no one around to see him, so he figured it didn’t matter. He stayed put until he was sure Kurt was gone, then he pulled the door open and stepped back into the hallway. By the time he found the room where the rest of the models were waiting out the results he wasn’t hard anymore, at least, which was good, considering he was still wearing Kurt’s kilt.
“Where’d you go?” Finn asked when Puck walked in, moving over to make room for Puck on the couch.
“Just taking care of some business,” Puck answered, grinning when Finn frowned at him. “Speaking of which, way to be smooth on the runway, dude. ‘I’m a big fan’? That’s the best you could come up with?”
“What’d you want me to do, throw myself off the runway?” Finn asked, but he was blushing again, and Puck didn’t bother trying not to laugh.
“Probably would have worked. He totally checked out your ass when he made you turn around, dude.”
“Really?” Finn said, glancing toward the door like maybe he was expecting Will Schuester to walk through and propose or something. And they both knew that wasn’t going to happen, but now that Puck had something going with Kurt, he sort of hoped Finn did get a shot with Will out of all this.
“Yeah, dude, he was totally into you,” Puck said. “He didn’t ask what I thought of wearing a skirt, did he?”
Finn opened his mouth to answer, maybe to argue that it wasn’t about him so much as the clown suit he was wearing, but before he got the words out the TV on the wall across from them switched on. All the models leaned forward to watch the designers file back onto the stage, lining up in front of the judges to find out who won and who got sent packing.
And yeah, the prize for the model who was paired with the winning designer was decent, but Puck didn’t care about a gift bag from some big name designer as much as he cared that he’d rocked Kurt’s outfit well enough to get him the win. He leaned forward on the couch, elbows on his knees and totally focused on Kurt while Heidi delivered her usual speech about somebody getting the boot.
They all clapped when Heidi told Sam he was safe, then they sent Mercedes back to safety too, and Puck was glad she didn’t get the boot just because she got stuck with Jesse. Then the camera closed in on Kurt, and when Heidi said his name Puck stopped breathing. He tuned out the rest of the models, focusing on the way Kurt’s lips kept trying to curve into a smile in spite of the fact that he was waiting to hear his fate.
“Congratulations,” Heidi finally said, “you are the winner of this challenge.”
As soon as she said it Kurt stopped trying to fight his smile, and Puck’s heart skipped a beat at the look on his face. He knew he was grinning like an idiot again, but he figured the rest of the guys would chalk it up to him winning the extra prize. Except maybe Finn, but he just clapped Puck on the shoulder and said, “Congratulations, man. You guys deserve it.”
“Thanks,” Puck said, but he didn’t take his eyes off the screen even long enough to grin at Finn. He watched while Kurt blushed, then headed off the runway and back to the designers’ holding area.
Once Kurt was gone he stopped paying attention, because it didn’t matter who got sent home. They all got paid either way, but it was easy to get caught up in the drama when they were all involved in the competition. So he wasn’t surprised that the rest of the models kept holding their breath while they listened to the judges declare Brittany safe, then it was down to Santana and Blaine.
And it didn’t make a difference to Finn if his designer got the boot, but he still watched while Santana scraped by and Blaine got sent home. Then again, it was possible Finn was staring at the screen in the hope of another glimpse of Will, and Puck couldn’t even blame him, because all he really wanted to do was go find Kurt and kiss him again.
~
Final three wasn’t exactly what Kurt expected. For one thing, he’d sort of expected to be in the final three with Mercedes and maybe Sam. But the judges had loved Brittany all along, so he wasn’t all that surprised when in the end they chose her over Mercedes to show at Fashion Week.
Still, it felt great to make the final three, until it really sank in exactly how much work he had to do in the next six months. It was longer than most people assumed they got, thanks to the show’s schedule, but it still wasn’t that much time to come up with a cohesive collection. So he hugged the others and wished them luck, then he headed back to his tiny studio in Brooklyn and locked himself in alone for the first time in over six weeks.
He found Noah’s phone number tucked into the pocket of his favorite pants, carefully folded so that the crease wouldn’t fade any of the numbers before he got a chance to dial them. Once he was home with his cell phone and absolute privacy he took it out again, setting it on the single bed that was the only other piece of furniture in the room besides his sewing table and staring at it for awhile.
It had been a few weeks since Noah pulled him into that closet and kissed him as though his life depended on it. Since Noah made him promise to call, and sure, he’d meant it at the time, but a few weeks was practically a lifetime in a model’s social life, and chances were good Noah had already moved on.
He might not even remember Kurt, and if he called only to be met with a “Wait, who is this again?” Kurt was pretty sure he’d die of humiliation. Then again, if Noah has already forgotten him, at least Kurt didn’t have to worry about running into him at any industry functions and embarrassing himself.
He considered leaving it to fate. Designing some menswear to go in his collection, then requesting Noah as one of his models, and if he showed and remembered Kurt, then it was meant to be. Except that if Kurt didn’t call and Noah really was waiting to hear from him, he might be hurt enough by the time Fashion Week rolled around to refuse to walk in Kurt’s clothes.
“This is ridiculous,” Kurt said, his voice too loud in the quiet studio. He rolled his eyes at himself and picked up his cell, punching in the number before he could change his mind.
It connected on the second ring, and when Kurt heard Noah’s voice on the other end of the line, his heart actually skipped a beat. “Hello?”
“Noah?”
For a second there was no answer, and Kurt wondered if perhaps he’d made a mistake after all. Then Noah let out a sigh, and Kurt pictured him running his hand over his shaved scalp. “Babe, what took you so long? I was starting to think you were going to blow me off.”
Kurt felt the heat rising up his neck and into his cheeks, and he was glad Noah wasn’t there to see him blush. “I just got home today. I made it to the final three, if you can believe that.”
“I said you would, didn’t I?” Noah said, his smile clear in his voice and Kurt didn’t bother trying not to grin. “So when are we going out to celebrate? I want to see you.”
“I still owe you that thank you,” Kurt said, cheeks flushing a little harder when Noah laughed.
“You don’t owe me, but I’ll take it anyway. I’ll take whatever, just tell me when I can see you again.”
“Are you free tomorrow?” As soon as he said it he sort of regretted not telling Noah to just come over right now, but they’d waited this long, and he wanted to do this right.
“Yeah,” Noah said, voice dropping a little and sending a shiver up Kurt’s spine. “For you, I’m always free.”
~
“Babe, shake a leg or you’ll miss it.”
“One second,” Kurt called. He swung the fridge shut and picked up his glass and a fresh beer, then he headed into the tiny living room and settled on the couch. As soon as he sat down Puck’s arm slid around his shoulders, lips brushing his cheek as he pulled the beer out of Kurt’s grip.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Kurt said, turning to press a kiss to the corner of Puck’s mouth before he pulled back and settled against his shoulder.
Puck grinned and pulled him a little closer, swinging his feet up on the second-hand coffee table and scanning the crowd on the TV screen until he spotted a familiar face. “There they are.”
“Where?” Kurt leaned forward to squint at the screen, and when he saw the outfit he’d designed on the red carpet he let out a weird little squeak he’d never actually admit to and gripped Puck’s thigh. “Oh, my clothes look better than I thought they would.”
“Not as good as when I wore them,” Puck said, and it was true, so it wasn’t like Kurt was going to try to deny it.
“Yes, but you didn’t wear them on the red carpet at the Tonys. Do you know what this kind of exposure can do for my career?” Kurt said, like Puck hadn’t heard this speech a million times in the past year.
They watched while Will stopped in front of some talking head with a microphone, then he reached off-camera and grabbed for something, and a second later Finn was being hauled into frame. Puck snorted a laugh and shook his head at the sight of Finn towering over Will, red-faced and looking like he’d just woken up and realized he wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
Not that Puck really blamed him. It was still kind of hard to believe that Will Schuester had gone to all the trouble to track down their agency and send over front-row tickets to his latest show after a three-second conversation on Project Runway. What was even more unbelievable was the fact that Finn had taken his mom, but she was in town that week and it wasn’t like he could tell her he was ditching her with his roommates for the night so he could make a booty call.
So he took her to a Broadway show instead, and apparently Will was into the cornball Midwestern routine, because he was nice to Finn’s mom, then he called Finn the next day and asked him out again. Since then they’d been pretty much joined at the hip, and maybe Finn hadn’t expected to end up on the red carpet at the Tonys, but he was going to have to get used to it, because Will was crazy about him.
When the interviewer asked about Will’s kilt he smiled into the camera and said Kurt’s name, and Puck laughed when Kurt squealed again and grabbed for his hand this time. “Did you hear that? I’m going to be famous.”
“You’re already famous, babe,” Puck said, and it was kind of true, because a lot of people still recognized him from the show even a year later.
At first it bugged Kurt that they mostly recognized him as the guy who lost to that Brittany chick, but after awhile he embraced the concept of all publicity being the good kind, and he was making it work for him. He’d found a website to sell his line, anyway, and he was doing a decent business in pre-sales. It wasn’t enough for them to move to Manhattan or anything, but between his line and the jobs Puck was booking these days, they were doing okay.
“I told you it didn’t matter if you won the show. Do you see Brittany getting name-checked at a nationally syndicated awards show?”
Kurt smiled and turned far enough to brush a kiss across Puck’s jaw, then he turned back to the TV in time to watch Will pull Finn into the interview and introduce him as his boyfriend.
“Practically jailbait arm candy, more like,” Puck said, laughing again and lifting his beer to take a long pull.
Kurt smacked him in the center of his chest, but he managed not to spill beer down the front of his shirt. “I think they look sweet together. Besides, you know Will’s crazy about him.”
“Believe me, I know. I have to hear about it through the wall all the damn time.”
Puck paused and leaned forward to set his beer on the coffee table, planting his feet on the floor and sliding his arm off Kurt’s shoulders to turn toward him. He’d been thinking about bringing up the subject for awhile, but the timing had always been bad and he kept finding reasons to put it off. Now was as good a time as any, though, so he took a breath and reached for Kurt’s hand.
“Speaking of which, they’re moving in together.”
“Really? When?” Kurt asked, eyes kind of wide. And it had kind of seemed for awhile now like Finn and Will already lived together, but it was still going to be kind of weird not to come home from a job and find Finn sprawled on the couch, taking up most of the room with his giant legs and surfing the entertainment news for a Schue Sighting.
“Our lease is up at the end of the month, and Will’s got that sweet place in Brooklyn. I guess he finally talked Finn into being a kept man.” Puck shrugged and glanced at the TV again, but Will and Finn were gone and the interviewer was talking to some old dude in a regular tux now. “The other guys have a lead on a place in Harlem, so I was thinking maybe we should move in together too.”
“You and me?” Kurt said, like it was the first time the thought had ever crossed his mind. But he was blushing, and Puck knew from experience that was a good sign.
“Unless you’ve got a better offer. I mean, you’re a famous Project Runway star now, people are probably beating down your door.”
Kurt cut him off with a hard kiss against his lips, and when he pulled back he was smiling even bigger than Will when the cameras were on him. “The best thing I got out of Runway was you.”
For a second Puck just grinned back at him, then he shrugged and leaned in to brush his lips against the corner of Kurt’s mouth.
“Damn straight, babe,” he whispered, then he kissed Kurt again.