Fic: The Love Gods [9/?]
Title: The Love Gods [9/?]
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A newly reconciled Burt and Finn set about finding the one thing that will make their new family complete: a boyfriend for Kurt.
Author's Notes: I've posted some song links at the end of the chapter. These songs can be quite explicit so please listen at your own discretion.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. The events within are entirely fictional.
Word Count: 3904
Previous Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight
Anger like Kurt hasn’t felt in a long time is still bubbling away in his chest when he hears his father’s truck pull up the driveway. And perhaps it is a little over dramatic, but when the front door opens he feels like screaming. Screaming at his father and Finn for being stupid enough to set him up with Puck in the first place; screaming at Carole and Rachel for letting it happen, and screaming at Puck for walking out when Kurt wanted so badly to make it up to him. But if tonight has taught him anything it is that lashing out without considering the consequences will only leave him feeling more wretched than he already does. Despite his anger he is determined to approach this situation calmly, so he merely takes a sip of water and waits.
“Hey Kurt!” Finn calls jovially, bouncing into the room like an overexcited puppy.
The look of disappointment on his face when he realises that Puck isn’t there is almost enough to make Kurt crack a smile.
Almost.
“Hello Finn,” Kurt says coolly. “How’s Rachel?”
“She’s feeling much better now, thanks,” Finn says quickly, stepping further into the room and allowing Burt and Carole to enter behind him.
The dining room is bare now. All of the rose petals have been swept up and dumped into the garbage can and the dishes washed and put away. There is no music playing. There is only Kurt, sat alone at the end of the table with a glass of water and ice in his eyes. It makes for a melancholy tableau, just as Kurt had intended. While Finn continues to grin at Kurt, Burt glances around the room as though looking for something. Or someone. Kurt offers up a hollow laugh.
“He’s not here,” Kurt remarks, his fingers drumming softly on the table.
“Who isn’t?” Finn asks, as he and Burt do their best to look confused. Carole remains silent, looking between Burt, Kurt and Finn as though she were trying to keep up with a particularly fast paced tennis match.
Kurt rolls his eyes. “Puck. You know, the chronically straight boy you two morons decided to set me up with.”
“What?” Carole asks, shooting Burt a questioning look. “You did what?”
“I thought Finn was planning a ridiculously over the top romantic dinner with Rachel, but it turns out it was just a trap for Puck and I,” Kurt explains, his irritation with Carole fading now that it appears that she at least had nothing to do with the evening’s scheming.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Finn lies.
“Don’t lie!” Kurt snaps. “I know Rachel wasn’t sick tonight. I know you all went to Breadsticks together. Puck told me everything.”
Burt looks uncomfortable at being caught, but Finn, ever the optimist, smiles eagerly. “Did you guys have a good time?” he asks. Kurt lets out an undignified snort. He would admire Finn’s unfailing optimism if he hadn’t spent the evening being a victim of it.
“We were,” Kurt replies truthfully. “Right up until we had a massive argument and Puck stormed out.”
The change in atmosphere happens instantly.
“What did he say to you?” Burt demands, switching into protective parent mode.
“Nothing,” Kurt says firmly. “The fight was my fault.”
“Yours?” Burt, Carole and Finn all chorus incredulously.
“Mine,” Kurt says sharply. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to know what the hell you thought you were doing and I want you to promise never to do anything like it again.”
“We were only trying to help,” Finn replies. “We want you to be happy, Kurt.”
“Oh yeah,” Kurt remarks sarcastically. “I’m sure I’ll be delirious with joy when Puck throws me in the dumpster tomorrow morning. Thanks guys, I owe you one.”
Burt immediately looks to Finn for assurance that Kurt is exaggerating. Finn shrugs. Not so long ago Finn would have said that it was very likely that Puck would resolve any dispute he had with Kurt by throwing him in the dumpster, but now he’s not so sure.
“Oh honey,” Carole says softly. “I’m sure Puck will forgive you if you just apologise to him.”
“I tried,” Kurt responds morosely. “He didn’t want to hear it.”
“Well maybe if you give him some time to cool down?” she suggests.
“Perhaps,” Kurt sighs, before excusing himself with a final mournful glance at his father, and retreating to the safety of his bedroom.
The movie is still frozen on his television from where he’d paused it earlier. He switches it off and falls onto the couch with yet another sigh. It’s hard work, lashing out at other people when deep down inside you know that you are really the one to blame. Finn might have set the whole thing up but he didn’t put the words in Kurt’s mouth that had wounded Puck so thoroughly. Why couldn’t he have just laughed it off when Puck was there and then spoken to Finn and his father when he’d gone? Why the ridiculous instance on spectacle and making things much more of an issue than they had to be? Why ruin a perfectly good friendship for the sake of payback? Kurt stares wistfully at the blank screen of his television but it has no answers to give.
Giving up, he quickly changes into his pyjamas, forgetting all about his skincare routine, and curls up on his bed. He is only half surprised when, about an hour later, there is a knock at his door.
“Can I come in?” Burt asks, opening the door but pausing at the top of the stairs in case he is refused.
“I suppose so,” Kurt replies unenthusiastically. Dealing with his father is the last thing Kurt feels like doing right now, but they have both been trying to communicate better in recent weeks and he knows his father won’t rest until he has had a chance to apologise.
“I’m real sorry your night didn’t work out,” Burt says, frowning slightly as he approaches the bed where Kurt is sitting. “We didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know,” Kurt says heavily, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and allowing Burt to sit down next to him. “But you do realise that every guy you tried to set me up with is one hundred percent straight, right?”
“Yeah,” Burt replies, looking sheepish. “But you’re always saying that for some people it’s about the person and not the gender, right? I guess I hoped it might be like that for one of your friends.”
“You were hoping one of my friends was a closeted bisexual?” Kurt queries disbelievingly.
“It’s not that stupid,” Burt counters. “Anyone who knows how much crap you have to deal with would be put off coming out themselves, especially if they weren’t exactly sure what they were coming out as.”
“That makes sense, I suppose,” Kurt admits, somewhat shocked that he is having a relatively calm discussion about sexuality with his father given the events of the evening.
“Puck reckons you’ve got more balls then the rest of them put together,” Burt remarks, glancing at Kurt out of the corner of his eye.
The moment Kurt feels himself blushing he knows he is in trouble. “That’s nice,” he replies, his voice wobbly and his cheeks still burning.
“You like him, don’t you,” Burt says calmly.
The lie hovers on the tip of Kurt’s tongue, but he finds that he lacks the desire to make it happen. He’s always wanted his father to feel comfortable enough to discuss this kind of thing with him, to lie to him now would be to make a mockery of that wish.
“I do,” he says quietly, not daring to look his father in the eye.
“Right,” Burt says gruffly. “He uh…he seems like a good kid.”
“He is,” Kurt says miserably.
And therein lies the problem. Kurt can see that now. Puck had let his guard down and shown Kurt a glimpse of the real Noah Puckerman, and Kurt had thrown that back in his face and refused to allow him to be anything other than the ignorant bully Kurt has always known him as.
“Then I’m sure he’ll forgive you,” Burt says confidently.
“You don’t understand,” Kurt replies, shaking his head sadly.
“So talk to me,” Burt urges. “Help me to understand. Or if you don’t want to talk to me then talk to Carole. Just don’t sit here stewing about it. People make mistakes, Kurt. If Puck can’t forgive you for a couple of harsh words then he isn’t worth worrying about.”
The advice is sound, but Kurt doesn’t really need it. He has every intention of speaking to Puck tomorrow. It’s just that he has never really been the begging for forgiveness type, and he highly doubts his ability to explain his actions in a way that would make Puck inclined to accept his apology.
“I wanted to teach you and Finn a lesson,” Kurt explains. “I was going to pretend he’d reacted really badly to the whole thing and said some horrible things to me.”
It sounds even worse when he says it out loud, especially given the fact that they are sitting in a room where Burt had once defended Kurt so fiercely from someone who really had said the kind of words Kurt is referring to.
“I see,” Burt says, careful to keep his voice and his face free from judgement.
“I was just so angry,” Kurt adds. “And I wanted to make sure you never did anything like that again. I didn’t think about what it would make you think of Puck.”
“That’s what he was upset about?”
Kurt nods, and the ghost of a smile flickers across Burt’s face.
“If that’s what he was upset about then I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he says eventually, reaching out a hand to ruffle Kurt’s hair. “He’ll forgive you soon enough.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so,” Burt says confidently, flashing Kurt a small smile.
“Thanks, dad,” Kurt says sincerely. Not only has talking to his father been much easier than Kurt had ever imagined it could be, but it really has made him feel better.
“Any time,” Burt replies, giving Kurt’s shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before standing up and making his way back over to the stairs. “Good night Kurt.”
It’s only later, when Kurt is lying awake trying not to think about what tomorrow might bring, that it occurs to him that his father completely glossed over the fact that Kurt is once again crushing on a hopelessly straight boy. There were no words of warning, no suggestion that Kurt keep his distance and wait for another openly gay boy to come along; just comfort and assurance that Kurt hasn’t ruined his relationship with Puck for good.
*
Thursday morning finds Kurt hovering around his locker, clutching The Little Shop of Horrors DVD and waiting for Puck to turn up. When he finally catches sight of the other boy he swears his stomach literally turns inside out. Puck stops by his locker, opening it and shoving a few books in there whilst chatting to Sam. Kurt is just summoning enough courage to go over to them when a heavy hand comes crashing down on his shoulder.
“Leave him alone,” Karofsky hisses.
Kurt whirls around and musters up his iciest glare. The corridor is full of students; there is no way Karofsky would try anything. It is that thought, coupled with Kurt’s residual anger from the previous night that makes him retaliate instead of merely turning the other cheek. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”
“You see that?” Karofsky asks, pointing to where Sam and Puck are now practicing baseball swings. “That’s normal. You see this?” He plucks the DVD from Kurt’s hands. “That’s faggy. Puckerman might get all protective about you Glee club losers but he will never be one of you. Not really. So you can just take your little gay crush and fuck off, because he will never, ever want you. Got it?”
“We’re partners for an assignment,” Kurt says quickly, willing himself not to blush and snatching the DVD back from Karofsky. “And for your information it was his choice, not mine.”
Something in Kurt’s face must give him away though, because Karofsky starts to laugh.
“Oh my God,” he says, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. “You really do have a crush on him! That is too fucking funny.”
Horrified, Kurt’s head snaps around to where Puck and Sam are standing. They are both watching Kurt and Karofsky intently, but Kurt can’t tell whether they are close enough to have heard their conversation. Sam makes a move in their direction but Puck stops him.
“I hate to burst your bubble, but Neanderthal jocks really aren’t my type, so whatever delusions you are labouring under I assure you they are just that: delusions,” Kurt says firmly.
Whether Karofsky believes him or not, Kurt doesn’t know. Either way, he rejoins Azimio with a final threatening glance in Kurt’s direction. Kurt turns back to his locker and takes a deep breath. He still has to go over and apologise to Puck, and he can’t let them see that Karofsky’s words have gotten to him.
“You okay?”
When Kurt turns around this time he finds himself the subject of Puck’s concerned gaze.
“I’m fine,” Kurt replies stiffly, mentally biting his tongue to stop himself asking why Puck even cares. The last thing he wants is for his bitchiness to be the cause of yet another argument.
“What did Karofsky want?”
“It’s almost nine o’clock. Time for our morning intimidation session,” Kurt says nonchalantly, painting on a mask of confidence as he pulls out his English book and places it in his bag.
“But you’re okay, right?”
Kurt swallows the sneer that is dying to escape. Puck doesn’t get to be like this. It isn’t fair. “You stopped Sam from coming over to help,” he states, careful to keep all traces of criticism from his voice and leaving off the implied ‘so don’t to act as though you care when you clearly couldn’t give a shit about me.’
“You’re not a damsel in distress. When it comes to trading insults you’re more than capable of holding your own,” Puck replies simply. “If he’d gotten physical we’d have been there in seconds, but I don’t think you really want us jumping in to defend you every time he so much as speaks to you. Do you?”
“No,” Kurt replies, once again taken aback by how well Puck understands him sometimes.
“We never did finish that, did we,” Puck remarks, glancing down at the DVD in Kurt’s hands.
“No,” Kurt replies softly. “We didn’t.” Silences falls for a moment, and Kurt is almost certain that Puck is going to simply walk away. When he doesn’t, Kurt clears his throat and risks a glance at the other boy. “I’m really sorry,” he says tentatively. “It was a stupid suggestion. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Puck shrugs awkwardly, clearly not used to being apologised to. “Whatever. It’s cool.”
“It’s not cool,” Kurt insists. “You deserve better than that. I just…I was angry and I didn’t think. Anyway, I brought you the DVD so that you can finish watching it.”
“You’re not watching it with me?”
“I figured-“
Puck cuts him off with a laugh. “Dude, you pissed me off. You apologised. We’re cool.”
“Right,” Kurt replies, a little bewildered at how easy that was. “So are we still on for Saturday then?”
“Course,” Puck replies. “Bring the movie. We can watch it after I’ve played you my discovery.”
“I will,” Kurt promises, coming to a stop outside his math classroom. “I guess I’ll see you later then.”
“Later, Kurt,” Puck says, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he watches Kurt enter the classroom.
*
“Are you ready to have your mind blown?” Puck asks, greeting Kurt on Saturday night with a broad grin.
“I’d like to see you try,” Kurt retorts, returning Puck’s smile and holding out the bag of jellybeans he’d brought with him.
“Junk food?” Puck gasps, feigning astonishment. “Surely not!”
“Fuck off,” Kurt replies, elbowing Puck as he passes them in the hall. “Just because I like to watch my figure doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a spot of junk food every now and again.”
“I like to watch my figure too,” Puck remarks, smirking. “It’s glorious.”
“Your modesty does you credit,” Kurt mutters sarcastically, though it’s true that, even in just his white wifebeater and dark blue sweats, Puck is a thing of beauty.
“Hey, I work hard for this. I’m allowed to feel proud,” Puck replies, leaning back against the kitchen counter and folding his arms behind his head.
“That’s true,” Kurt admits, letting his gaze wander over the exposed skin of Puck’s biceps. He figures this is the one time he can do so without fear of being caught, so he might as well make the most of it.
“So you admit it then,” Puck says, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You think I’m glorious.”
“I never said that,” Kurt counters, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. “Stop putting words in my mouth!”
“You’d prefer me to put something else in there?”
“Absolutely,” Kurt replies boldly, his gaze slipping to the bag of jellybeans in Puck’s hand. “I’ll have a handful of the green apple ones, thanks.”
Puck laughs and holds the bag out for Kurt. “Be my guest.”
Puck is still laughing as he leads Kurt into the lounge and as much as Kurt hates himself for even thinking it, his heart feels lighter at the sound.
“Okay,” Puck says, after instructing Kurt to take a seat on the couch. “I’m about to change your record collection forever.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, amused and a little intrigued by Puck’s arrogance. In small doses, and about such a relatively trivial thing as a Glee club assignment it’s almost endearing. Puck pushes play on the CD player and turns back to Kurt as a familiar song begins to play.
“Nirvana?” Kurt says, disappointment welling up inside him. “Puck, I’ve heard of Nirvana.”
“Just listen,” Puck commands, perching on the end of the sofa and grabbing a handful of jellybeans.
Kurt’s shock as the singer begins the first verse skyrockets when Puck begins to sing along with the chorus. He listens to the rest of the song intently, trying to memorise every word. It’s like nothing Kurt has ever heard before. Real and raw and funny and exactly what Kurt’s record collection has been missing.
“What is that?” he asks when the song comes to an end.
“Pansy Division,” Puck says smugly. “Smells Like Queer Spirit.”
“I’ve never heard anything like this before.”
“They’re a gay punk band. Queercore,” Puck explains, slipping off the armrest to sit next to Kurt on the couch. “All of the members are gay and most of their songs deal with sexual identity and the perils and perks of being a gay man.”
“You sound like you’ve done your research,” Kurt remarks archly.
Puck shrugs. “I like ‘em. Thought they were worth properly checking out before I showed it to you. You like it?”
“I do,” Kurt replies honestly. “Have you got anymore?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Puck replies, jumping up and putting a fresh CD into the stereo.
“Did he just say-“ Kurt splutters as the first song on the CD begins to play.
“He’s joining the cocksucker club? Yeah, he said it,” Puck confirms. “Makes even Lady Gaga look like a bit of a prude, right?”
“And you actually like this?” Kurt queries.
“Fuck yeah,” Puck replies. “They don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. That’s fucking hot.”
“It is,” Kurt agrees. “Could you burn me a CD?”
“Already done it,” Puck says. “I found out about them a little while ago, but I had to be sure you wouldn’t get offended before I showed it to you. Mr. Schue’s assignment gave me the perfect excuse.”
They quieten down then, listening to the rest of the CD in companionable silence, broken occasionally by a shocked gasp from Kurt and an answering chuckle from Puck.
*
“Okay guys,” Mr. Schue says, clapping his hands eagerly as he beams at the Glee club on Tuesday afternoon. “Who is ready to share their voyage of discovery?”
Rachel goes first, as usual, and proceeds to bore them all senseless with what can only be described as a diatribe about Santana’s failed attempt to introduce her to technique of flirting at the mall in order to gain free milkshakes. Kurt’s only comfort is the look of badly hidden despair on Mr. Schue’s face. The poor guy has obviously only just realised that telling a bunch of high school kids to teach each other something may not always yield the kind of wholesome, uplifting lessons he was hoping for. Kurt exchanges a wry grin with Puck before reluctantly turning his attention back to Rachel.
“Great, thanks Rachel,” Mr. Schue says the moment he can get a word in. “Tina, let’s hear from you next.”
When Kurt stands for his turn he has no real idea what to say. Once the shock of the lyrical content had worn off he had been left with a warm, fuzzy feeling that is impossible to explain. Now he loves Adam Lambert and Lady Gaga as much as the next gay boy, but Pansy Division spoke to him in a way that no music ever has done before. They sing about the life he is living, and the one he hopes to live in the future with no apologies or shame or cowardice. The fact that Puck went out of his way to find something that Kurt would not only tolerate but connect with and truly enjoy makes Kurt want to wrap his arms around Puck and never let go.
“Hi,” he says, feeling nervous in front of the club for the first time. He’s all too aware that he is in danger of revealing far too much about his changing feelings for Puck if he doesn’t keep his appreciation in check. “This week Puck introduced me to a band called Pansy Division. They are a punk band whose members are all gay and who sing really openly about what that is like. They are bit too frank for some people, but I found it really refreshing. I had no idea that this kind of music was out there but I’ll definitely be looking out for more in the future. “
It’s a good deal less than Kurt wants to say, and certainly less than both the band and Puck deserve, but Mr. Schue is beaming at him and everyone else is clapping so Kurt figures that’s him done.
“Short and sweet,” Puck remarks as Kurt returns to his seat next to him. “Rachel could learn a thing from you.”
“I’m not sure anyone but you would have appreciated a detailed analysis of why No Protection is such a brilliant song,” Kurt replies.
“It’s hard, isn’t it, being right on the edge of the musical frontier,” Puck says with a long suffering sigh.
Actually, Kurt thinks to himself as he shares a grin with Puck, it’s not hard at all.
Song Links:
1. Smells Like Queer Spirit - Pansy Division
2. Cocksucker Club - Pansy Division
3. No Protection - Pansy Division
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A newly reconciled Burt and Finn set about finding the one thing that will make their new family complete: a boyfriend for Kurt.
Author's Notes: I've posted some song links at the end of the chapter. These songs can be quite explicit so please listen at your own discretion.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. The events within are entirely fictional.
Word Count: 3904
Previous Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight
Anger like Kurt hasn’t felt in a long time is still bubbling away in his chest when he hears his father’s truck pull up the driveway. And perhaps it is a little over dramatic, but when the front door opens he feels like screaming. Screaming at his father and Finn for being stupid enough to set him up with Puck in the first place; screaming at Carole and Rachel for letting it happen, and screaming at Puck for walking out when Kurt wanted so badly to make it up to him. But if tonight has taught him anything it is that lashing out without considering the consequences will only leave him feeling more wretched than he already does. Despite his anger he is determined to approach this situation calmly, so he merely takes a sip of water and waits.
“Hey Kurt!” Finn calls jovially, bouncing into the room like an overexcited puppy.
The look of disappointment on his face when he realises that Puck isn’t there is almost enough to make Kurt crack a smile.
Almost.
“Hello Finn,” Kurt says coolly. “How’s Rachel?”
“She’s feeling much better now, thanks,” Finn says quickly, stepping further into the room and allowing Burt and Carole to enter behind him.
The dining room is bare now. All of the rose petals have been swept up and dumped into the garbage can and the dishes washed and put away. There is no music playing. There is only Kurt, sat alone at the end of the table with a glass of water and ice in his eyes. It makes for a melancholy tableau, just as Kurt had intended. While Finn continues to grin at Kurt, Burt glances around the room as though looking for something. Or someone. Kurt offers up a hollow laugh.
“He’s not here,” Kurt remarks, his fingers drumming softly on the table.
“Who isn’t?” Finn asks, as he and Burt do their best to look confused. Carole remains silent, looking between Burt, Kurt and Finn as though she were trying to keep up with a particularly fast paced tennis match.
Kurt rolls his eyes. “Puck. You know, the chronically straight boy you two morons decided to set me up with.”
“What?” Carole asks, shooting Burt a questioning look. “You did what?”
“I thought Finn was planning a ridiculously over the top romantic dinner with Rachel, but it turns out it was just a trap for Puck and I,” Kurt explains, his irritation with Carole fading now that it appears that she at least had nothing to do with the evening’s scheming.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Finn lies.
“Don’t lie!” Kurt snaps. “I know Rachel wasn’t sick tonight. I know you all went to Breadsticks together. Puck told me everything.”
Burt looks uncomfortable at being caught, but Finn, ever the optimist, smiles eagerly. “Did you guys have a good time?” he asks. Kurt lets out an undignified snort. He would admire Finn’s unfailing optimism if he hadn’t spent the evening being a victim of it.
“We were,” Kurt replies truthfully. “Right up until we had a massive argument and Puck stormed out.”
The change in atmosphere happens instantly.
“What did he say to you?” Burt demands, switching into protective parent mode.
“Nothing,” Kurt says firmly. “The fight was my fault.”
“Yours?” Burt, Carole and Finn all chorus incredulously.
“Mine,” Kurt says sharply. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to know what the hell you thought you were doing and I want you to promise never to do anything like it again.”
“We were only trying to help,” Finn replies. “We want you to be happy, Kurt.”
“Oh yeah,” Kurt remarks sarcastically. “I’m sure I’ll be delirious with joy when Puck throws me in the dumpster tomorrow morning. Thanks guys, I owe you one.”
Burt immediately looks to Finn for assurance that Kurt is exaggerating. Finn shrugs. Not so long ago Finn would have said that it was very likely that Puck would resolve any dispute he had with Kurt by throwing him in the dumpster, but now he’s not so sure.
“Oh honey,” Carole says softly. “I’m sure Puck will forgive you if you just apologise to him.”
“I tried,” Kurt responds morosely. “He didn’t want to hear it.”
“Well maybe if you give him some time to cool down?” she suggests.
“Perhaps,” Kurt sighs, before excusing himself with a final mournful glance at his father, and retreating to the safety of his bedroom.
The movie is still frozen on his television from where he’d paused it earlier. He switches it off and falls onto the couch with yet another sigh. It’s hard work, lashing out at other people when deep down inside you know that you are really the one to blame. Finn might have set the whole thing up but he didn’t put the words in Kurt’s mouth that had wounded Puck so thoroughly. Why couldn’t he have just laughed it off when Puck was there and then spoken to Finn and his father when he’d gone? Why the ridiculous instance on spectacle and making things much more of an issue than they had to be? Why ruin a perfectly good friendship for the sake of payback? Kurt stares wistfully at the blank screen of his television but it has no answers to give.
Giving up, he quickly changes into his pyjamas, forgetting all about his skincare routine, and curls up on his bed. He is only half surprised when, about an hour later, there is a knock at his door.
“Can I come in?” Burt asks, opening the door but pausing at the top of the stairs in case he is refused.
“I suppose so,” Kurt replies unenthusiastically. Dealing with his father is the last thing Kurt feels like doing right now, but they have both been trying to communicate better in recent weeks and he knows his father won’t rest until he has had a chance to apologise.
“I’m real sorry your night didn’t work out,” Burt says, frowning slightly as he approaches the bed where Kurt is sitting. “We didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know,” Kurt says heavily, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and allowing Burt to sit down next to him. “But you do realise that every guy you tried to set me up with is one hundred percent straight, right?”
“Yeah,” Burt replies, looking sheepish. “But you’re always saying that for some people it’s about the person and not the gender, right? I guess I hoped it might be like that for one of your friends.”
“You were hoping one of my friends was a closeted bisexual?” Kurt queries disbelievingly.
“It’s not that stupid,” Burt counters. “Anyone who knows how much crap you have to deal with would be put off coming out themselves, especially if they weren’t exactly sure what they were coming out as.”
“That makes sense, I suppose,” Kurt admits, somewhat shocked that he is having a relatively calm discussion about sexuality with his father given the events of the evening.
“Puck reckons you’ve got more balls then the rest of them put together,” Burt remarks, glancing at Kurt out of the corner of his eye.
The moment Kurt feels himself blushing he knows he is in trouble. “That’s nice,” he replies, his voice wobbly and his cheeks still burning.
“You like him, don’t you,” Burt says calmly.
The lie hovers on the tip of Kurt’s tongue, but he finds that he lacks the desire to make it happen. He’s always wanted his father to feel comfortable enough to discuss this kind of thing with him, to lie to him now would be to make a mockery of that wish.
“I do,” he says quietly, not daring to look his father in the eye.
“Right,” Burt says gruffly. “He uh…he seems like a good kid.”
“He is,” Kurt says miserably.
And therein lies the problem. Kurt can see that now. Puck had let his guard down and shown Kurt a glimpse of the real Noah Puckerman, and Kurt had thrown that back in his face and refused to allow him to be anything other than the ignorant bully Kurt has always known him as.
“Then I’m sure he’ll forgive you,” Burt says confidently.
“You don’t understand,” Kurt replies, shaking his head sadly.
“So talk to me,” Burt urges. “Help me to understand. Or if you don’t want to talk to me then talk to Carole. Just don’t sit here stewing about it. People make mistakes, Kurt. If Puck can’t forgive you for a couple of harsh words then he isn’t worth worrying about.”
The advice is sound, but Kurt doesn’t really need it. He has every intention of speaking to Puck tomorrow. It’s just that he has never really been the begging for forgiveness type, and he highly doubts his ability to explain his actions in a way that would make Puck inclined to accept his apology.
“I wanted to teach you and Finn a lesson,” Kurt explains. “I was going to pretend he’d reacted really badly to the whole thing and said some horrible things to me.”
It sounds even worse when he says it out loud, especially given the fact that they are sitting in a room where Burt had once defended Kurt so fiercely from someone who really had said the kind of words Kurt is referring to.
“I see,” Burt says, careful to keep his voice and his face free from judgement.
“I was just so angry,” Kurt adds. “And I wanted to make sure you never did anything like that again. I didn’t think about what it would make you think of Puck.”
“That’s what he was upset about?”
Kurt nods, and the ghost of a smile flickers across Burt’s face.
“If that’s what he was upset about then I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he says eventually, reaching out a hand to ruffle Kurt’s hair. “He’ll forgive you soon enough.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so,” Burt says confidently, flashing Kurt a small smile.
“Thanks, dad,” Kurt says sincerely. Not only has talking to his father been much easier than Kurt had ever imagined it could be, but it really has made him feel better.
“Any time,” Burt replies, giving Kurt’s shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before standing up and making his way back over to the stairs. “Good night Kurt.”
It’s only later, when Kurt is lying awake trying not to think about what tomorrow might bring, that it occurs to him that his father completely glossed over the fact that Kurt is once again crushing on a hopelessly straight boy. There were no words of warning, no suggestion that Kurt keep his distance and wait for another openly gay boy to come along; just comfort and assurance that Kurt hasn’t ruined his relationship with Puck for good.
*
Thursday morning finds Kurt hovering around his locker, clutching The Little Shop of Horrors DVD and waiting for Puck to turn up. When he finally catches sight of the other boy he swears his stomach literally turns inside out. Puck stops by his locker, opening it and shoving a few books in there whilst chatting to Sam. Kurt is just summoning enough courage to go over to them when a heavy hand comes crashing down on his shoulder.
“Leave him alone,” Karofsky hisses.
Kurt whirls around and musters up his iciest glare. The corridor is full of students; there is no way Karofsky would try anything. It is that thought, coupled with Kurt’s residual anger from the previous night that makes him retaliate instead of merely turning the other cheek. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”
“You see that?” Karofsky asks, pointing to where Sam and Puck are now practicing baseball swings. “That’s normal. You see this?” He plucks the DVD from Kurt’s hands. “That’s faggy. Puckerman might get all protective about you Glee club losers but he will never be one of you. Not really. So you can just take your little gay crush and fuck off, because he will never, ever want you. Got it?”
“We’re partners for an assignment,” Kurt says quickly, willing himself not to blush and snatching the DVD back from Karofsky. “And for your information it was his choice, not mine.”
Something in Kurt’s face must give him away though, because Karofsky starts to laugh.
“Oh my God,” he says, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. “You really do have a crush on him! That is too fucking funny.”
Horrified, Kurt’s head snaps around to where Puck and Sam are standing. They are both watching Kurt and Karofsky intently, but Kurt can’t tell whether they are close enough to have heard their conversation. Sam makes a move in their direction but Puck stops him.
“I hate to burst your bubble, but Neanderthal jocks really aren’t my type, so whatever delusions you are labouring under I assure you they are just that: delusions,” Kurt says firmly.
Whether Karofsky believes him or not, Kurt doesn’t know. Either way, he rejoins Azimio with a final threatening glance in Kurt’s direction. Kurt turns back to his locker and takes a deep breath. He still has to go over and apologise to Puck, and he can’t let them see that Karofsky’s words have gotten to him.
“You okay?”
When Kurt turns around this time he finds himself the subject of Puck’s concerned gaze.
“I’m fine,” Kurt replies stiffly, mentally biting his tongue to stop himself asking why Puck even cares. The last thing he wants is for his bitchiness to be the cause of yet another argument.
“What did Karofsky want?”
“It’s almost nine o’clock. Time for our morning intimidation session,” Kurt says nonchalantly, painting on a mask of confidence as he pulls out his English book and places it in his bag.
“But you’re okay, right?”
Kurt swallows the sneer that is dying to escape. Puck doesn’t get to be like this. It isn’t fair. “You stopped Sam from coming over to help,” he states, careful to keep all traces of criticism from his voice and leaving off the implied ‘so don’t to act as though you care when you clearly couldn’t give a shit about me.’
“You’re not a damsel in distress. When it comes to trading insults you’re more than capable of holding your own,” Puck replies simply. “If he’d gotten physical we’d have been there in seconds, but I don’t think you really want us jumping in to defend you every time he so much as speaks to you. Do you?”
“No,” Kurt replies, once again taken aback by how well Puck understands him sometimes.
“We never did finish that, did we,” Puck remarks, glancing down at the DVD in Kurt’s hands.
“No,” Kurt replies softly. “We didn’t.” Silences falls for a moment, and Kurt is almost certain that Puck is going to simply walk away. When he doesn’t, Kurt clears his throat and risks a glance at the other boy. “I’m really sorry,” he says tentatively. “It was a stupid suggestion. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Puck shrugs awkwardly, clearly not used to being apologised to. “Whatever. It’s cool.”
“It’s not cool,” Kurt insists. “You deserve better than that. I just…I was angry and I didn’t think. Anyway, I brought you the DVD so that you can finish watching it.”
“You’re not watching it with me?”
“I figured-“
Puck cuts him off with a laugh. “Dude, you pissed me off. You apologised. We’re cool.”
“Right,” Kurt replies, a little bewildered at how easy that was. “So are we still on for Saturday then?”
“Course,” Puck replies. “Bring the movie. We can watch it after I’ve played you my discovery.”
“I will,” Kurt promises, coming to a stop outside his math classroom. “I guess I’ll see you later then.”
“Later, Kurt,” Puck says, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he watches Kurt enter the classroom.
*
“Are you ready to have your mind blown?” Puck asks, greeting Kurt on Saturday night with a broad grin.
“I’d like to see you try,” Kurt retorts, returning Puck’s smile and holding out the bag of jellybeans he’d brought with him.
“Junk food?” Puck gasps, feigning astonishment. “Surely not!”
“Fuck off,” Kurt replies, elbowing Puck as he passes them in the hall. “Just because I like to watch my figure doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a spot of junk food every now and again.”
“I like to watch my figure too,” Puck remarks, smirking. “It’s glorious.”
“Your modesty does you credit,” Kurt mutters sarcastically, though it’s true that, even in just his white wifebeater and dark blue sweats, Puck is a thing of beauty.
“Hey, I work hard for this. I’m allowed to feel proud,” Puck replies, leaning back against the kitchen counter and folding his arms behind his head.
“That’s true,” Kurt admits, letting his gaze wander over the exposed skin of Puck’s biceps. He figures this is the one time he can do so without fear of being caught, so he might as well make the most of it.
“So you admit it then,” Puck says, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You think I’m glorious.”
“I never said that,” Kurt counters, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. “Stop putting words in my mouth!”
“You’d prefer me to put something else in there?”
“Absolutely,” Kurt replies boldly, his gaze slipping to the bag of jellybeans in Puck’s hand. “I’ll have a handful of the green apple ones, thanks.”
Puck laughs and holds the bag out for Kurt. “Be my guest.”
Puck is still laughing as he leads Kurt into the lounge and as much as Kurt hates himself for even thinking it, his heart feels lighter at the sound.
“Okay,” Puck says, after instructing Kurt to take a seat on the couch. “I’m about to change your record collection forever.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, amused and a little intrigued by Puck’s arrogance. In small doses, and about such a relatively trivial thing as a Glee club assignment it’s almost endearing. Puck pushes play on the CD player and turns back to Kurt as a familiar song begins to play.
“Nirvana?” Kurt says, disappointment welling up inside him. “Puck, I’ve heard of Nirvana.”
“Just listen,” Puck commands, perching on the end of the sofa and grabbing a handful of jellybeans.
Kurt’s shock as the singer begins the first verse skyrockets when Puck begins to sing along with the chorus. He listens to the rest of the song intently, trying to memorise every word. It’s like nothing Kurt has ever heard before. Real and raw and funny and exactly what Kurt’s record collection has been missing.
“What is that?” he asks when the song comes to an end.
“Pansy Division,” Puck says smugly. “Smells Like Queer Spirit.”
“I’ve never heard anything like this before.”
“They’re a gay punk band. Queercore,” Puck explains, slipping off the armrest to sit next to Kurt on the couch. “All of the members are gay and most of their songs deal with sexual identity and the perils and perks of being a gay man.”
“You sound like you’ve done your research,” Kurt remarks archly.
Puck shrugs. “I like ‘em. Thought they were worth properly checking out before I showed it to you. You like it?”
“I do,” Kurt replies honestly. “Have you got anymore?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Puck replies, jumping up and putting a fresh CD into the stereo.
“Did he just say-“ Kurt splutters as the first song on the CD begins to play.
“He’s joining the cocksucker club? Yeah, he said it,” Puck confirms. “Makes even Lady Gaga look like a bit of a prude, right?”
“And you actually like this?” Kurt queries.
“Fuck yeah,” Puck replies. “They don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. That’s fucking hot.”
“It is,” Kurt agrees. “Could you burn me a CD?”
“Already done it,” Puck says. “I found out about them a little while ago, but I had to be sure you wouldn’t get offended before I showed it to you. Mr. Schue’s assignment gave me the perfect excuse.”
They quieten down then, listening to the rest of the CD in companionable silence, broken occasionally by a shocked gasp from Kurt and an answering chuckle from Puck.
*
“Okay guys,” Mr. Schue says, clapping his hands eagerly as he beams at the Glee club on Tuesday afternoon. “Who is ready to share their voyage of discovery?”
Rachel goes first, as usual, and proceeds to bore them all senseless with what can only be described as a diatribe about Santana’s failed attempt to introduce her to technique of flirting at the mall in order to gain free milkshakes. Kurt’s only comfort is the look of badly hidden despair on Mr. Schue’s face. The poor guy has obviously only just realised that telling a bunch of high school kids to teach each other something may not always yield the kind of wholesome, uplifting lessons he was hoping for. Kurt exchanges a wry grin with Puck before reluctantly turning his attention back to Rachel.
“Great, thanks Rachel,” Mr. Schue says the moment he can get a word in. “Tina, let’s hear from you next.”
When Kurt stands for his turn he has no real idea what to say. Once the shock of the lyrical content had worn off he had been left with a warm, fuzzy feeling that is impossible to explain. Now he loves Adam Lambert and Lady Gaga as much as the next gay boy, but Pansy Division spoke to him in a way that no music ever has done before. They sing about the life he is living, and the one he hopes to live in the future with no apologies or shame or cowardice. The fact that Puck went out of his way to find something that Kurt would not only tolerate but connect with and truly enjoy makes Kurt want to wrap his arms around Puck and never let go.
“Hi,” he says, feeling nervous in front of the club for the first time. He’s all too aware that he is in danger of revealing far too much about his changing feelings for Puck if he doesn’t keep his appreciation in check. “This week Puck introduced me to a band called Pansy Division. They are a punk band whose members are all gay and who sing really openly about what that is like. They are bit too frank for some people, but I found it really refreshing. I had no idea that this kind of music was out there but I’ll definitely be looking out for more in the future. “
It’s a good deal less than Kurt wants to say, and certainly less than both the band and Puck deserve, but Mr. Schue is beaming at him and everyone else is clapping so Kurt figures that’s him done.
“Short and sweet,” Puck remarks as Kurt returns to his seat next to him. “Rachel could learn a thing from you.”
“I’m not sure anyone but you would have appreciated a detailed analysis of why No Protection is such a brilliant song,” Kurt replies.
“It’s hard, isn’t it, being right on the edge of the musical frontier,” Puck says with a long suffering sigh.
Actually, Kurt thinks to himself as he shares a grin with Puck, it’s not hard at all.
Song Links:
1. Smells Like Queer Spirit - Pansy Division
2. Cocksucker Club - Pansy Division
3. No Protection - Pansy Division