Your Beauty Effulgent- Part Two
Title: Your Beauty Effulgent by emo_chick_87
Word Count: 15,309 in Total
Characters: Puck, Kurt, Sarah Puckerman, Norah Puckerman, Drusilla
Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt, brief Puck/Drusilla
Genre: Angst, Romance, Crossover (w/ BTVS, ATS)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: violence, character death (pretty unavoidable when dealing with vamp fic), sex between the boys, brief descriptions of captivity/torture
Summary: When Drusilla waltzed into Lima she was looking for someone to replace her William. A shiny new boy the glowed. She found Puck. When she chose him she didn't see his stubborn will, the might with which he would fight for his soul. And she certainly didn't see the boy made of sugar cane and power that danced in his heart.
**
Two Months Later
As the first bell of senior year sounded above Kurt's head, he felt his shoulders tighten. His first class was English. He glanced down at the course outline and cringed when he saw yet another Jane Austen book scheduled for the first semester. Just like that it all came flooding back. He was assaulted with all the memories of all of the late nights of helping Puck through last year's assignment. The touches that lingered just long enough to mean something more. The looks that made Kurt dream.
As he walked into the room and felt his knees buckle under him as he saw the empty seat. He hadn't realized just how much he was expecting to see Puck sitting in the seat. Wearing a big shit-eating grin and regaling everyone with tales of his wild summer spent away. He had always expected Puck to come home. He sat in the back of the room, just behind Puck's old seat and watched as it stayed empty.
Kurt's foot bounced anxiously, the heel of his boots screaming his tension to the room. Mercedes gave him a sympathetic look as she sat beside him and he felt his heart break with each passing minute. He spent the rest of the class fighting the tears that had been threatening to fall since all of this had begun.
The bell sounding above him made him jump. He cringed at the metallic taste that filed his mouth. He swiped the back of his hand over his sore lips as he heard Mercedes gasp beside him.
"Baby, what the hell happened? You split your lip."
He realized that he had been anxiously chewing his bottom lip and hadn't even noticed when his teeth ripped through the tender skin. Kurt pulled his bag up onto his shoulder with shaking hands and started to head towards the door.
The heavy wet air of fall hit him in the face as he pushed through the ominous double doors. The oppressive weight of the day came crashing down on top of him. He saw Puck in every inch of that school. He could practically still smell that heady scent that would trail behind him as he strolled through the halls. The intoxicating smell that Kurt hadn't even really noticed until it was gone.
There were way too many things he didn't notice until it was too late. Until the moment Puck was reduced to those harsh whispers. Until Puck became the kind of legend he always wanted to be. Before he became the baddest of badasses. Until people forgot that he used to sing with them, that he sometimes ran for touchdowns. Until almost everyone forgot the Puck that haunted Kurt. Kurt didn't understand how they weren't flooded with everything Puck was. How they weren’t flooded with everything that was gone.
Puck was all over the school but Puck was the kind of gone that felt final. In that finality, most people found it easier to forget. Puck was the kind of gone that was forever and Kurt thought it might be that long before he'd able to forget.
In the end, he could only make to the end of the first class before he felt his body give out. The worried voices of his friends trailed behind him as he walked away. His feet propelled him forward, towards a familiar walk. As he got closer to his destination the sidewalk became uneven and thick lines cracked the pavement.
He sighed as he looked up at the living room window. A small anxious face lit up into a bright smile as she saw him at the edge of their driveway. She didn't leave her perch by the window until he made it to the front door. By the time he pushed into the entrance way she was waiting with her arms outstretched. He scooped her up and settled her onto his hip as she tucked herself under his arm.
"Hey, babygirl, we had a deal. No more waiting by the window. He wouldn't have wanted that." Kurt said in a tone he couldn't really place himself. It was almost like he was asking her to give up and he didn't feel right doing that.
"I know but.... he was supposed to walk me to school..... He promised." Sarah's voice broke what was left of Kurt's resolve and he crushed her to his chest in a tight hug. He felt her tears against the thin cotton of his t-shirts. He let her cry as he walked down the hallway. He leaned into the doorway of Mrs. Puckerman's room and made sure she was sleeping. She had been on the night shift all week and the harsh affects of Puck being gone had started to show themselves more acutely.
He felt Sarah's sob calm and settled down on the couch to watch Sponge Bob. He got her to smile. He would anything to make her smile, even if it could only be for a few minutes. They stayed cuddled together on the lumpy couch until Kurt's stomach gave an embarrassing grumble. He pulled himself and went about making them both lunch.
The sizzle of the grilled cheese sandwiches barely hid the gasping, shuddered breath that forced itself past Kurt's throat. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the Formica counter top. As he looked down at his bloodless hands, he fought to keep it together. He wasn't sure why this was all so hard all of a sudden. He had fallen easily into the role that he'd made for himself.
Since Puck was gone, this had been his world. Half his life lived in the walls that held all the memories of Noah. Half a life living in a place that still had his smell. Learning to love Noah's mother and take care of his baby sister. Kurt had lived here, oddly comfortable being the one that helped hold it together until Noah came home.
The other half of his life was lying. It was keeping a brave face in place. It was pretending that Noah was just a friend. Pretending that he didn't spend the quiet hours at night thinking about all the things that went unsaid. Every moment that wasn't filled with the act of making up for everything was left unsaid was lost in the heavy silence of night. Lost in the quiet moments where his basement bedroom was the place he was alone. Lost in the moments where his loud breathing was only thing being drown out by the rushing of his heart and the racing of his mind. He spent half his summer making sure Noah's family was still intact when he came home.
He spent the other half of it refusing to let himself cry over the idea that he might never be back. Because Puck was always going to come back. He was going to tell Kurt he was a girl for worrying. He was going to hug his mom and blush as she cursed him in Hebrew. He was going to smile like he was grateful Kurt had been there even though he never would have expected it. He was going to tell Kurt that he didn't know why it took Puck leaving to make Kurt realize just where he always belonged. He was going to be there for his baby sister's first day of kindergarten. He was going to braid her hair for her and help her pick out her dress. He was going to walk her to school. He was going to make her kiss him goodbye even though she would be a little bit embarrassed about doing it.
In Kurt's dreams, that's what Puck was always going to do. Except that every single day that passed made realty creep in. For the first time, when he looked around he didn't see the home Puck would be coming back to. This time he saw Sarah's haphazard, lopsided braid. He saw the thick tears as she refused to let Kurt help her. He saw a mother that was grieving the loss of her son.
His hand shook as he walked back into the living room. A grape juice box was hanging limply at his side and the tremors in his hand making the plate bounce slightly in his grip. His shoulders sagged in relief when he saw Sarah had fallen asleep under Noah's Letterman jacket. Kurt set the lunch on the coffee table and staggered down the hallway. He trailed his hand along the wall and his fingers grazed the frames of all the Puckerman family pictures.
He came to a stop in front of the one room he had yet to let himself enter. The door seemed way too light and way too heavy all at the same time. Kurt walked into the room and was overtaken by how normal it all looked. The unmade bed, the guitar leaning against the window sill, the scattered sheet music. All of it screamed Noah. All of it screamed of someone that was expected to be home any minute.
Kurt's eyes travel over Puck's desk. Concert tickets, empty cups and notebooks overtake the entire surface. He noticed a thin stack of papers hanging precariously on the edge of the desk. Kurt knew what it was the minute he saw it. It was obviously a rough draft. Doodles almost overtook the margins but Kurt would recognize an English essay from a hundred feet. His fingers brushed the pages almost reverently. Noah's messy scrawl made Kurt's heart break as he read the first few lines.
Austen suggests that true love is a force separate from society and one that can conquer even the most difficult of circumstances.
Kurt felt his heart plummet as he looked in the margins. Puck had scribbled a note. It was almost obscured by the messy way Puck wrote but it was there. Beside his opening line Puck had written, Kurt?. The weight of what that meant made Kurt's knees give out and he fell back onto Puck's bed. Puck had thought about him like that. Had maybe even considered trying to love Kurt. Puck might never have moved on the thought but just the fact that he had the thought made Kurt smile to himself.
But then he remembered all the time that had passed from the day Puck had written the hopeful Kurt? in the margins. Remembered just how long it had been since Puck's scent hadn't been second-hand. He remembered and let himself do the one thing he hadn't been able to do. He remembered and he curled himself into a ball, hugging Puck's pillow to his chest.
For the first time in two months, one week, four days, thirteen hours, twenty-four minutes and six seconds, Kurt let himself grieve.
For the first time in two months, one week, four days, thirteen hours, twenty-four minutes and six seconds, Kurt let himself cry.
**
When he woke up seven hours later, Sarah was tucked under his arm. Her warm breath skated over his forearm and he felt her small back rising and falling against his chest. His head swam as he pulled himself into sitting position and cringed at the taste in his mouth. His stomach rolled as his head pounded.
He had always hated giving into the tears. Sure, a well-timed tear roll at the end of any emotional performance was magic if the emotion was genuine. But this kind of crying always left him feeling devastated. His bones rubbed against his skin in a way that was almost painful. His eyes burned against the harsh light coming from the hallway. He hated giving himself over to that kind emotion. He’d learned a long time ago how to shut off from that kind of pain. Losing Puck left him feeling more than a little broken. He hadn’t felt this broken since his head was resting on his mother’s still chest and begging her to breathe.
Sarah barely stirred as he eased himself out of bed. Her body rolled into the warm stop he had left and clutched the abandoned pillow tightly as her brow furrowed. It wasn’t right that even in her sleep she was warding off the feeling of being left alone.
As he walked into the living room, he saw that Norah’s shoes weren’t by the front door. He cursed himself for not being there to help her with dinner. The smell of warm food floated in from the kitchen and made Kurt’s stomach growl in protest. Hunger gnawed at him but he still couldn’t bring himself to eat. He looked longingly at the front door and wondered if the cool night air would help make him feel more human.
The night was unseasonably cold. It made a shiver run up Kurt’s back and he pulled his sleeves over his wrists. He looked into the dark night and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The feeling was familiar. It sent warm shivers through him and reminded him of the feeling that would race through him during English class. It was the same feeling that he would always feel when he would turn around and catch Noah averting his glance.
Kurt gasped as he realized that was the only time he’d ever felt like that. He launched himself off of the porch, his eyes darting across the street to see if he could catch a glimpse of who was hiding in the darkness. Hope bubbled in his chest as he saw a dark figure emerge from the tree line of the houses next door. He would know that walk anywhere and it took everything he had not to throw himself at the person walking towards him. Noah’s features were illuminated by the streetlight and Kurt shuddered in relief.
His elation was soon tempered by the anger radiating off of Puck and the menacing growl that seemed to come from his throat. Puck stalked towards him. Each one of Puck advancing steps inched Kurt further back. Kurt felt his shoulders collide with the side of the house. Words played across his tongue and it took everything he had not to let them go. Puck cocked his head to the side and smirked as he sniffed at the air beside Kurt's head.
"Hummel," Puck growled, "What the fuck are you doing in my house?"
Kurt shuddered at the primal tone of Puck's voice and blushed as blood coursed into his dick. The sound of Puck's voice, roughened by whatever he had been away doing all those months, made Kurt's hands surge forward to touch Puck's shoulders.
Before he knew what happened, Kurt's hands were pinned roughly on either side of his head. Puck's strong hands leaving Kurt's immobile. Kurt's chest heaved as Puck's grip tightened on his wrists.
"I was....I was.... waiting for you." Kurt whispered, his warm breath skating over Puck's cheek.
Puck leaned forward to nuzzle at Kurt's neck. Kurt felt the smallest shift against his jaw and the tiniest brush of teeth against his skin. Puck pushed his thigh between Kurt's legs and Kurt's head lolled to the side, exposing the pale expanse of his skin to Puck's hungry gaze. Puck felt the little control he had left snap.
As Puck slid his teeth into Kurt's neck, Kurt arched hard into the sensation. The sharp flash of pain was replaced by pleasure he'd never felt before. His moans intensified as he felt Puck slide deeper inside of him. Lights exploded behind his eyes and his body seized as his came. His fingers curled around the top of Puck's hand. His body ached to touch him in a more substantial way but Puck's grip remained too tight. So he let himself believe that his fingertips along the soft skin were enough.
Puck made soft keening noises as he continued to drink from Kurt. Kurt felt himself go limp and his eyes started to droop close. Tiny sparks of pleasure shot through him with every small draw of blood. His head dropped forward and he brushed a light, sleepy kiss on Puck's jaw. His lips lingering until Puck pulled away. Almost like he didn't want to accept the tender gesture.
Suddenly Kurt felt like he had been burned and all the pleasure disappeared. Puck wrenched himself away and stumbled back muttering to himself, nonononononono. Kurt watched in horror as Puck disappeared back into the tree line.
He pulled himself back into the house and limped into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror as he cataloged the damage. His hair was disheveled. His skin was sickly pale and his wrists were circled by the beginning of light blue bruises. He clicked his tongue at the growing wet stop on the front of his pants and cursed Puck as he rinsed them in the sink.
He didn't really notice the twin pin prick marks on his neck until he was running his hands over his face. He had been to busy just trying to process the fact that Puck was back. He hadn't even let himself think about Puck biting him. About Puck drinking his blood.
His fingers softly probed the marks, absentmindedly wondering if they would scar. He wasn't sure if it was the thought of Puck's mark being on him for life or the slide of his own fingers on his skin but Kurt felt himself buckle as he touched the mark. Blood surged to his cock and he rested his elbows on the bathroom counter. He let his thumb run over the raised bite. Each swipe made him gasp. He felt his belly quiver and his inner thigh twitch. Heat pooled at the base of his spine and he felt himself harden.
His fingers moved furiously over his neck. He gasped loudly and keened as he felt his orgasm rushing. In an instant he really felt everything. The elation of Puck being back. The thrill of his hands pressed by his head as Puck eyed him. The exquisite pain of Puck's sharp teeth piercing his skin. The incredible feeling of Puck drinking from him. The way the inside of Puck's bottom lip would brush against his neck with every pull. He felt it all and felt himself seize.
He came without touching his cock and crumpled to the floor in exhaustion. The weight of the night crashed down on him and he curled into a ball and started to sob. Puck was a vampire. He was dead. He fed from Kurt. He had touched Kurt in a way no one ever had before. Kurt fought to accept that this was his life now. But all of his efforts were lost in the way his body hummed. In the way that his heart ached to touch Puck again. Kurt let himself cry because he was just starting to realize what all of it meant.
His tears were tears of relief because Puck was back. In the morning he would have to pretend none of this happened. He would have to wake up and cover the marks Puck left on him. He would have to tell Sarah that he was waiting for Puck too. He would have to watch Norah mourn her son. He would have to pretend that his neck wasn't throbbing. He would have to pretend but that was all okay.
Because right here, right now, Puck was back.
**
Cont.In Part Three
Word Count: 15,309 in Total
Characters: Puck, Kurt, Sarah Puckerman, Norah Puckerman, Drusilla
Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt, brief Puck/Drusilla
Genre: Angst, Romance, Crossover (w/ BTVS, ATS)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: violence, character death (pretty unavoidable when dealing with vamp fic), sex between the boys, brief descriptions of captivity/torture
Summary: When Drusilla waltzed into Lima she was looking for someone to replace her William. A shiny new boy the glowed. She found Puck. When she chose him she didn't see his stubborn will, the might with which he would fight for his soul. And she certainly didn't see the boy made of sugar cane and power that danced in his heart.
**
Two Months Later
As the first bell of senior year sounded above Kurt's head, he felt his shoulders tighten. His first class was English. He glanced down at the course outline and cringed when he saw yet another Jane Austen book scheduled for the first semester. Just like that it all came flooding back. He was assaulted with all the memories of all of the late nights of helping Puck through last year's assignment. The touches that lingered just long enough to mean something more. The looks that made Kurt dream.
As he walked into the room and felt his knees buckle under him as he saw the empty seat. He hadn't realized just how much he was expecting to see Puck sitting in the seat. Wearing a big shit-eating grin and regaling everyone with tales of his wild summer spent away. He had always expected Puck to come home. He sat in the back of the room, just behind Puck's old seat and watched as it stayed empty.
Kurt's foot bounced anxiously, the heel of his boots screaming his tension to the room. Mercedes gave him a sympathetic look as she sat beside him and he felt his heart break with each passing minute. He spent the rest of the class fighting the tears that had been threatening to fall since all of this had begun.
The bell sounding above him made him jump. He cringed at the metallic taste that filed his mouth. He swiped the back of his hand over his sore lips as he heard Mercedes gasp beside him.
"Baby, what the hell happened? You split your lip."
He realized that he had been anxiously chewing his bottom lip and hadn't even noticed when his teeth ripped through the tender skin. Kurt pulled his bag up onto his shoulder with shaking hands and started to head towards the door.
The heavy wet air of fall hit him in the face as he pushed through the ominous double doors. The oppressive weight of the day came crashing down on top of him. He saw Puck in every inch of that school. He could practically still smell that heady scent that would trail behind him as he strolled through the halls. The intoxicating smell that Kurt hadn't even really noticed until it was gone.
There were way too many things he didn't notice until it was too late. Until the moment Puck was reduced to those harsh whispers. Until Puck became the kind of legend he always wanted to be. Before he became the baddest of badasses. Until people forgot that he used to sing with them, that he sometimes ran for touchdowns. Until almost everyone forgot the Puck that haunted Kurt. Kurt didn't understand how they weren't flooded with everything Puck was. How they weren’t flooded with everything that was gone.
Puck was all over the school but Puck was the kind of gone that felt final. In that finality, most people found it easier to forget. Puck was the kind of gone that was forever and Kurt thought it might be that long before he'd able to forget.
In the end, he could only make to the end of the first class before he felt his body give out. The worried voices of his friends trailed behind him as he walked away. His feet propelled him forward, towards a familiar walk. As he got closer to his destination the sidewalk became uneven and thick lines cracked the pavement.
He sighed as he looked up at the living room window. A small anxious face lit up into a bright smile as she saw him at the edge of their driveway. She didn't leave her perch by the window until he made it to the front door. By the time he pushed into the entrance way she was waiting with her arms outstretched. He scooped her up and settled her onto his hip as she tucked herself under his arm.
"Hey, babygirl, we had a deal. No more waiting by the window. He wouldn't have wanted that." Kurt said in a tone he couldn't really place himself. It was almost like he was asking her to give up and he didn't feel right doing that.
"I know but.... he was supposed to walk me to school..... He promised." Sarah's voice broke what was left of Kurt's resolve and he crushed her to his chest in a tight hug. He felt her tears against the thin cotton of his t-shirts. He let her cry as he walked down the hallway. He leaned into the doorway of Mrs. Puckerman's room and made sure she was sleeping. She had been on the night shift all week and the harsh affects of Puck being gone had started to show themselves more acutely.
He felt Sarah's sob calm and settled down on the couch to watch Sponge Bob. He got her to smile. He would anything to make her smile, even if it could only be for a few minutes. They stayed cuddled together on the lumpy couch until Kurt's stomach gave an embarrassing grumble. He pulled himself and went about making them both lunch.
The sizzle of the grilled cheese sandwiches barely hid the gasping, shuddered breath that forced itself past Kurt's throat. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the Formica counter top. As he looked down at his bloodless hands, he fought to keep it together. He wasn't sure why this was all so hard all of a sudden. He had fallen easily into the role that he'd made for himself.
Since Puck was gone, this had been his world. Half his life lived in the walls that held all the memories of Noah. Half a life living in a place that still had his smell. Learning to love Noah's mother and take care of his baby sister. Kurt had lived here, oddly comfortable being the one that helped hold it together until Noah came home.
The other half of his life was lying. It was keeping a brave face in place. It was pretending that Noah was just a friend. Pretending that he didn't spend the quiet hours at night thinking about all the things that went unsaid. Every moment that wasn't filled with the act of making up for everything was left unsaid was lost in the heavy silence of night. Lost in the quiet moments where his basement bedroom was the place he was alone. Lost in the moments where his loud breathing was only thing being drown out by the rushing of his heart and the racing of his mind. He spent half his summer making sure Noah's family was still intact when he came home.
He spent the other half of it refusing to let himself cry over the idea that he might never be back. Because Puck was always going to come back. He was going to tell Kurt he was a girl for worrying. He was going to hug his mom and blush as she cursed him in Hebrew. He was going to smile like he was grateful Kurt had been there even though he never would have expected it. He was going to tell Kurt that he didn't know why it took Puck leaving to make Kurt realize just where he always belonged. He was going to be there for his baby sister's first day of kindergarten. He was going to braid her hair for her and help her pick out her dress. He was going to walk her to school. He was going to make her kiss him goodbye even though she would be a little bit embarrassed about doing it.
In Kurt's dreams, that's what Puck was always going to do. Except that every single day that passed made realty creep in. For the first time, when he looked around he didn't see the home Puck would be coming back to. This time he saw Sarah's haphazard, lopsided braid. He saw the thick tears as she refused to let Kurt help her. He saw a mother that was grieving the loss of her son.
His hand shook as he walked back into the living room. A grape juice box was hanging limply at his side and the tremors in his hand making the plate bounce slightly in his grip. His shoulders sagged in relief when he saw Sarah had fallen asleep under Noah's Letterman jacket. Kurt set the lunch on the coffee table and staggered down the hallway. He trailed his hand along the wall and his fingers grazed the frames of all the Puckerman family pictures.
He came to a stop in front of the one room he had yet to let himself enter. The door seemed way too light and way too heavy all at the same time. Kurt walked into the room and was overtaken by how normal it all looked. The unmade bed, the guitar leaning against the window sill, the scattered sheet music. All of it screamed Noah. All of it screamed of someone that was expected to be home any minute.
Kurt's eyes travel over Puck's desk. Concert tickets, empty cups and notebooks overtake the entire surface. He noticed a thin stack of papers hanging precariously on the edge of the desk. Kurt knew what it was the minute he saw it. It was obviously a rough draft. Doodles almost overtook the margins but Kurt would recognize an English essay from a hundred feet. His fingers brushed the pages almost reverently. Noah's messy scrawl made Kurt's heart break as he read the first few lines.
Austen suggests that true love is a force separate from society and one that can conquer even the most difficult of circumstances.
Kurt felt his heart plummet as he looked in the margins. Puck had scribbled a note. It was almost obscured by the messy way Puck wrote but it was there. Beside his opening line Puck had written, Kurt?. The weight of what that meant made Kurt's knees give out and he fell back onto Puck's bed. Puck had thought about him like that. Had maybe even considered trying to love Kurt. Puck might never have moved on the thought but just the fact that he had the thought made Kurt smile to himself.
But then he remembered all the time that had passed from the day Puck had written the hopeful Kurt? in the margins. Remembered just how long it had been since Puck's scent hadn't been second-hand. He remembered and let himself do the one thing he hadn't been able to do. He remembered and he curled himself into a ball, hugging Puck's pillow to his chest.
For the first time in two months, one week, four days, thirteen hours, twenty-four minutes and six seconds, Kurt let himself grieve.
For the first time in two months, one week, four days, thirteen hours, twenty-four minutes and six seconds, Kurt let himself cry.
**
When he woke up seven hours later, Sarah was tucked under his arm. Her warm breath skated over his forearm and he felt her small back rising and falling against his chest. His head swam as he pulled himself into sitting position and cringed at the taste in his mouth. His stomach rolled as his head pounded.
He had always hated giving into the tears. Sure, a well-timed tear roll at the end of any emotional performance was magic if the emotion was genuine. But this kind of crying always left him feeling devastated. His bones rubbed against his skin in a way that was almost painful. His eyes burned against the harsh light coming from the hallway. He hated giving himself over to that kind emotion. He’d learned a long time ago how to shut off from that kind of pain. Losing Puck left him feeling more than a little broken. He hadn’t felt this broken since his head was resting on his mother’s still chest and begging her to breathe.
Sarah barely stirred as he eased himself out of bed. Her body rolled into the warm stop he had left and clutched the abandoned pillow tightly as her brow furrowed. It wasn’t right that even in her sleep she was warding off the feeling of being left alone.
As he walked into the living room, he saw that Norah’s shoes weren’t by the front door. He cursed himself for not being there to help her with dinner. The smell of warm food floated in from the kitchen and made Kurt’s stomach growl in protest. Hunger gnawed at him but he still couldn’t bring himself to eat. He looked longingly at the front door and wondered if the cool night air would help make him feel more human.
The night was unseasonably cold. It made a shiver run up Kurt’s back and he pulled his sleeves over his wrists. He looked into the dark night and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The feeling was familiar. It sent warm shivers through him and reminded him of the feeling that would race through him during English class. It was the same feeling that he would always feel when he would turn around and catch Noah averting his glance.
Kurt gasped as he realized that was the only time he’d ever felt like that. He launched himself off of the porch, his eyes darting across the street to see if he could catch a glimpse of who was hiding in the darkness. Hope bubbled in his chest as he saw a dark figure emerge from the tree line of the houses next door. He would know that walk anywhere and it took everything he had not to throw himself at the person walking towards him. Noah’s features were illuminated by the streetlight and Kurt shuddered in relief.
His elation was soon tempered by the anger radiating off of Puck and the menacing growl that seemed to come from his throat. Puck stalked towards him. Each one of Puck advancing steps inched Kurt further back. Kurt felt his shoulders collide with the side of the house. Words played across his tongue and it took everything he had not to let them go. Puck cocked his head to the side and smirked as he sniffed at the air beside Kurt's head.
"Hummel," Puck growled, "What the fuck are you doing in my house?"
Kurt shuddered at the primal tone of Puck's voice and blushed as blood coursed into his dick. The sound of Puck's voice, roughened by whatever he had been away doing all those months, made Kurt's hands surge forward to touch Puck's shoulders.
Before he knew what happened, Kurt's hands were pinned roughly on either side of his head. Puck's strong hands leaving Kurt's immobile. Kurt's chest heaved as Puck's grip tightened on his wrists.
"I was....I was.... waiting for you." Kurt whispered, his warm breath skating over Puck's cheek.
Puck leaned forward to nuzzle at Kurt's neck. Kurt felt the smallest shift against his jaw and the tiniest brush of teeth against his skin. Puck pushed his thigh between Kurt's legs and Kurt's head lolled to the side, exposing the pale expanse of his skin to Puck's hungry gaze. Puck felt the little control he had left snap.
As Puck slid his teeth into Kurt's neck, Kurt arched hard into the sensation. The sharp flash of pain was replaced by pleasure he'd never felt before. His moans intensified as he felt Puck slide deeper inside of him. Lights exploded behind his eyes and his body seized as his came. His fingers curled around the top of Puck's hand. His body ached to touch him in a more substantial way but Puck's grip remained too tight. So he let himself believe that his fingertips along the soft skin were enough.
Puck made soft keening noises as he continued to drink from Kurt. Kurt felt himself go limp and his eyes started to droop close. Tiny sparks of pleasure shot through him with every small draw of blood. His head dropped forward and he brushed a light, sleepy kiss on Puck's jaw. His lips lingering until Puck pulled away. Almost like he didn't want to accept the tender gesture.
Suddenly Kurt felt like he had been burned and all the pleasure disappeared. Puck wrenched himself away and stumbled back muttering to himself, nonononononono. Kurt watched in horror as Puck disappeared back into the tree line.
He pulled himself back into the house and limped into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror as he cataloged the damage. His hair was disheveled. His skin was sickly pale and his wrists were circled by the beginning of light blue bruises. He clicked his tongue at the growing wet stop on the front of his pants and cursed Puck as he rinsed them in the sink.
He didn't really notice the twin pin prick marks on his neck until he was running his hands over his face. He had been to busy just trying to process the fact that Puck was back. He hadn't even let himself think about Puck biting him. About Puck drinking his blood.
His fingers softly probed the marks, absentmindedly wondering if they would scar. He wasn't sure if it was the thought of Puck's mark being on him for life or the slide of his own fingers on his skin but Kurt felt himself buckle as he touched the mark. Blood surged to his cock and he rested his elbows on the bathroom counter. He let his thumb run over the raised bite. Each swipe made him gasp. He felt his belly quiver and his inner thigh twitch. Heat pooled at the base of his spine and he felt himself harden.
His fingers moved furiously over his neck. He gasped loudly and keened as he felt his orgasm rushing. In an instant he really felt everything. The elation of Puck being back. The thrill of his hands pressed by his head as Puck eyed him. The exquisite pain of Puck's sharp teeth piercing his skin. The incredible feeling of Puck drinking from him. The way the inside of Puck's bottom lip would brush against his neck with every pull. He felt it all and felt himself seize.
He came without touching his cock and crumpled to the floor in exhaustion. The weight of the night crashed down on him and he curled into a ball and started to sob. Puck was a vampire. He was dead. He fed from Kurt. He had touched Kurt in a way no one ever had before. Kurt fought to accept that this was his life now. But all of his efforts were lost in the way his body hummed. In the way that his heart ached to touch Puck again. Kurt let himself cry because he was just starting to realize what all of it meant.
His tears were tears of relief because Puck was back. In the morning he would have to pretend none of this happened. He would have to wake up and cover the marks Puck left on him. He would have to tell Sarah that he was waiting for Puck too. He would have to watch Norah mourn her son. He would have to pretend that his neck wasn't throbbing. He would have to pretend but that was all okay.
Because right here, right now, Puck was back.
**
Cont.In Part Three