Fic: The Love Gods [10/?]
Title: The Love Gods [10/?]
Pairing: Puck/Kurt, very slight Kurt/Blaine
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: This is my version of Blaine. I'm aware that he isn't quite canon!Blaine but I hope you'll forgive me.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. The events within are entirely fictional.
Word Count: 3990
Previous Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine
“Would you rather lose your sight or your sense of smell?” Puck asks, holding the door open for Kurt as they step into the grimy record store.
78 Records is nothing like the polished, orderly store where Kurt usually shops for his music, but Puck had insisted that it was the only place a true music lover should go to get their fix. For once, Kurt hadn’t argued. This is the first time they have spent any time together without either one of them even attempting to use Glee club as an excuse, and Kurt is certain that means something. Something that he has no intention of spoiling with unnecessary bitchiness and a refusal to take any suggestion of Puck’s seriously.
“Smell,” he answers, without hesitation.
They’ve been playing ‘Would You Rather?’ since Puck pulled his truck out of Kurt’s driveway, and Kurt is surprised to note that it hasn’t become boring yet. Whilst Kurt had been expecting Puck to go for the jugular and use the game as an excuse to poke fun at Kurt’s sexual inexperience, he has actually asked some insightful, entertaining questions, and given proper answers to Kurt’s questions in turn. Granted, Kurt now knows more about Puck’s underwear preferences than he ever needed to, but if he’s honest, the knowledge isn’t entirely unwelcome. Having now resigned himself to the fact that Puck has set up home in Kurt’s masturbatory catalogue, at least now he can paint a more accurate picture of what lies under the other boy’s blue jeans, and Kurt has always been all about accuracy.
“Really?” Puck queries, heading straight for the Metal section. “It’s that easy for you?”
“Yes,” Kurt replies, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the crude artwork on some of the posters that line the walls. He casts a wary eye around at the menacing man behind the counter, the heavily tattooed shop assistant who is sneering in his direction, and the worn, dusty floorboards. Puck seems unbothered by the less than welcoming atmosphere and Kurt tells himself that as long as he sticks with the other boy, he’ll be fine. Feeling safe around Puck is still a relatively new concept for Kurt, but one that he is slowly getting used to.
“I need beautiful things to look at to distract me from the utter banality of my existence,” he adds. “Sight is absolutely essential to a fulfilling life. If you can’t see, you can’t love. It’s as simple as that.”
There’s a long period of silence following Kurt’s answer, during which Puck stares at the other boy so intently that Kurt’s skin begins to prickle uncomfortably.
“If you can’t see, you can’t love,” Puck repeats slowly, frowning deeply. “Dude, even I think that’s shallow.”
Kurt flushes slightly. “I didn’t mean it like that!” he says quickly. “I’m not referring to the need to see how physically attractive someone is. I’m thinking of the kind of things you probably think are totally lame, like sharing smiles across a crowded room or watching someone while they sleep. The kind of things that make love worthwhile.”
Puck is smirking now, and when Kurt replays his explanation in his head he’s pretty sure he can guess why.
“Spoken like a true virgin,” Puck remarks, but there’s no malice in the comment. “Take it from someone who knows, there are plenty of things that make love worthwhile that are much more enjoyable than watching someone sleep.” Puck’s smirk turns decidedly filthy and Kurt has to look away to keep from blushing.
“Like you know anything about being in love,” Kurt mutters darkly, determined to regain the upper hand.
The smile drops from Puck’s face but he remains calm. “I know that making eyes at each other across rooms ain’t going to cut it. If you don’t spend at least half your time thinking about fucking him through the mattress then you don’t really love him.”
Kurt rolls his eyes, trying desperately to ignore the jolt in his stomach at the realisation that Puck didn’t automatically assume Kurt would be a bottom. “Do you have to make everything about sex?”
Puck laughs. “How can you talk about love without talking about sex? Look, I know you’re all about romance and shit, but if you aren’t sexually compatible then the relationship is doomed. No matter how many smiles you share.”
“I suppose you may have a point,” Kurt admits, biting back a smile at the look of triumph on Puck’s face. He’s starting to grow rather fond of these little insights into the workings of Puck’s mind. If nothing else they are proof that Puck is a lot more thoughtful than Kurt ever gave him credit for. “Wait…are you telling me you’d rather give up your sight?” he asks disbelievingly.
“For sure,” Puck replies easily. “Smell is the sexiest sense of all. No way am I giving that up.”
Kurt raises a sceptical eyebrow.
“Think about it,” Puck urges. “People see each other all the time but when was the last time you were close enough to smell someone? And I’m not talking BO or any of that bullshit. I’m talking proper smelling. Like being able to tell when someone has changed their shampoo because they smell like mango instead of coconut.”
They are stood shoulder to shoulder now, and rather than drowning in the smell of Axe as he usually does in Puck’s presence, Kurt finds himself inhaling a heady mixture of cloves and vanilla, with just a hint of Puck’s natural heat. It’s an expensive aroma, but worth every penny if your aim is to make everyone around you desperate to find out if your skin tastes as good as it smells.
“Smell is intimate in a way that sight can never be,” Puck continues, apparently oblivious to Kurt’s present distraction. “The whole world can see how good your boyfriend looks, only you get to know how good he smells.”
Kurt is just gathering enough wit to prepare a response - something about half the population of Lima knowing how Puck smells - when a warm weight nudges his shoulder.
“Boyfriend or wingman?” Puck whispers, leaning over on the pretence of grabbing a Pantera CD.
“What?” Kurt hisses, eyes wide in confusion.
“The guy standing under the Smashing Pumpkins poster has been checking you out since we walked in. Are you interested or shall I pretend to be your boyfriend and scare him off?”
Kurt’s initial thought is to opt for the second offer, partly to see what Puck’s reaction would be and partly because the thought of another boy checking him out - if that’s truly what is happening, and personally Kurt’s not sure that it is - is as terrifying as it is exciting.
And then Kurt looks up, and the decision becomes a lot simpler.
The boy Puck had indicated is wearing a charcoal sweater and form-fitting black pants. His dark brown hair is carefully styled, save for one curl that has broken loose and now rests against his forehead. Even from a distance Kurt can tell that he smells fresh and clean, like springtime and new beginnings. He swallows down the smile that is itching to burst across his face and grabs a Metallica CD, continuing his appraisal whilst pretending to read the liner notes. Puck is mercifully silent, obviously waiting for Kurt to make a decision before sharing his own opinion on the boy.
A shop assistant is approaching the boy now, and when he raises his hands to indicate that he requires no assistance, Kurt’s attention is caught by graceful movements and a smile that seems to last forever.
“Wingman,” Kurt mutters. Puck nods sharply in response.
When he risks one more glance at the mystery boy, Kurt winds up looking straight into deep brown eyes. The boy smiles again, and Kurt returns it without a second thought.
“You ready for this?” Puck asks softly, as the boy sets down the CD he was looking at and heads in their direction.
“Of course,” Kurt replies, with an air of confidence they both know he isn’t feeling. He sneaks a quick look at his outfit and when he looks up again the boy is less than a metre away, grinning broadly.
“Hey,” the boy says as he closes the distance between them. “I’m Blaine.” He holds his hand out to Puck.
Puck seems amused by the formality of the gesture, but he shakes the offered hand out of what Kurt assumes is some hitherto undiscovered sense of politeness. “I’m Puck, and this is Kurt.”
Kurt smiles, surprisingly grateful to Puck for making the introduction on his behalf. His stomach feels like an explosion has just taken place there, and he can’t shake the feeling that this is a VERY IMPORTANT meeting.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Blaine replies, his gaze fixed on Kurt despite it having been Puck who had spoken to him. “I must admit, I didn’t have you pegged as a Metallica fan,” he remarks, nodding at the CD that Kurt is still clutching.
“I’m not,” Kurt replies, extremely relieved when his voice doesn’t wobble in the slightest. “We’re in Puck’s territory at the moment. I’m a little out of my comfort zone, to be honest.”
“Like a little lamb who’s lost in the wood,” Blaine croons, and Kurt laughs nervously, inwardly bracing himself for some vulgar remark from Puck.
Instead, Puck just coughs; sounding as awkward as Kurt imagines Noah Puckerman is capable of sounding. It’s such an unusual situation that Kurt only just manages to contain a most undignified snort.
“I think I’m going to check out the movies,” Puck announces, his eyes searching Kurt’s. If Kurt didn’t know better he’d say that Puck was making sure he was okay before leaving him. “It was nice to meet you Blaine,” Puck says, shooting the other boy a careful smile.
“You too,” Blaine replies. His smile is nothing like Puck’s. It’s open and friendly, and it puts Kurt at ease in a way that Puck has never managed to do.
Puck waits until it is safe to do so before turning to wink at Kurt. Kurt stifles a giggle and turns his attention back to the figure in front of him.
“Is your boyfriend the strong, silent type or did I say something wrong?” Blaine asks.
“God no,” Kurt replies. “He hardly ever shuts up. And he’s not my boyfriend. In fact, he’d probably beat you up for even suggesting it.”
Kurt might have an active imagination but there’s no way he dreamed up the pleased look that flickers across Blaine’s face at his reply. Encouraged, Kurt flashes Blaine a warm smile.
“So, what brings you to this fine establishment?” he asks.
“Judy,” Blaine sighs, brandishing a vinyl record with a sheepish smile. “I know, I know, I’m a horrible cliché. But it’s Judy. On vinyl. What’s a boy to do?” He smiles ruefully and that explosion in Kurt’s stomach morphs into a full-on hurricane.
“I understand,” Kurt replies, his brain still trying to work out whether Blaine just outed himself or not.
Luckily for Kurt, he is able to put the question out of his mind long enough to engage Blaine in a proper conversation. So engaged are they, in fact, that half an hour passes in the blink of an eye and they are still stood in the middle of the store discussing their favourite musical. Puck is nowhere to be seen, and Kurt makes a mental note to feel guilty about that later. Still, Puck had offered to be his wingman, and if their positions had been reversed Kurt has no doubt that Puck would have done exactly the same.
When Puck finally does reappear, carrying a bundle of CDs and looking thoroughly pleased with himself, Kurt has Blaine’s number in his phone and tentative plans to meet for coffee.
All in all it’s one of Kurt’s more successful shopping trips.
*
“So are you going to date this Blaine guy or what?” Puck asks, dropping into the booth opposite Kurt.
Much to Kurt’s surprise, Puck did not intend for them to drive straight home after visiting the record store. He insisted on treating Kurt to coffee in celebration of Kurt being picked up for the very first time. It’s not something Kurt ever imagined celebrating, and certainly not with Noah Puckerman, but he’s in too good a mood to protest. Besides, only a fool would turn down free coffee.
“I don’t know,” Kurt replies, suddenly nervous again, though he’s at a loss to explain why. Puck has been nothing but supportive all day. Encouraging without being pushy. Interested but not nosy. Most importantly, he made a hasty exit from the conversation and left Blaine and Kurt alone rather than standing there sprouting embarrassing stories about Kurt. The perfect wingman. “Thanks,” he says as Puck slides Kurt’s mocha across the table. “For the coffee, and for being so cool about this whole thing.”
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you that I think you deserve as much action as anyone?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Kurt warns. “I have no idea whether Blaine even likes guys.”
“I don’t know about guys in general, but he definitely likes you. Dude couldn’t keep his eyes off you,” Puck argues.
Kurt ducks his head in an attempt to hide his pleased smile.
“You really don’t believe me, do you?” Puck remarks, shaking his head slightly. “Underneath all the fancy clothes and catty remarks you’re just as insecure as the rest of us, aren’t you? More so, I reckon, given all the shit you’ve had to deal with over the years.”
Kurt scowls. He hates been psychoanalysed. “You’ve swapped pool cleaning for psychology now, have you?” he snaps. “And you’re a fine one to talk about insecurity, sleeping with anyone who’ll have you because it’s the only thing that makes you feel like you’re worth something.”
Puck takes a long time to consider his response, and that is enough to tell Kurt that this is going to be a debate, not an argument.
“That used to be the case, I guess,” Puck admits, with all the discomfort of someone who has only recently discovered something rather unpleasant about themselves. “I mean, it felt good too. Most of the time. But yeah, sex is the one thing I know I’m good at.”
“But with women old enough to be your mother?” Kurt presses.
“I thought because they were rich, they were classy,” Puck explains. “That them wanting me made me worth more than all the other losers shagging Cheerios on the weekends.”
Kurt shifts uncomfortably. Puck’s experience has always been a source of disdain for Kurt, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t also kind of a turn on. Something about all the things Puck could teach him gets to Kurt every single time.
“Now I have Glee club though,” Puck adds, snapping Kurt out of what may have become a very dangerous daydream. “And the football team is actually doing okay for once… I’m just not really feeling it anymore.”
“Noah Puckerman, bored with sex. I never thought I’d see the day,” Kurt quips.
“I never said I was bored with sex. Just escaping out of back doors with my pants round my ankles whenever jealous husbands arrive home early. I mean, I’m all for living dangerously but there has to be a limit.”
Kurt can’t help but laugh at the image Puck’s words conjure up, and he’s relieved when Puck joins in.
“That’s quite the revelation you’ve had there,” Kurt remarks when the laughter dies down, struggling to find a way to express how glad he is that Puck is starting to see the error of his ways.
Puck shrugs. “My dad was just like me in high school and look where he ended up,” he says bitterly. “I don’t want that. I used to think that I could do all the same dumb shit that he did without ending up the same way but now I’m not so sure.”
“I know Mr. Schue probably tells you this all the time, but you really do have a lot of potential Noah,” Kurt says sincerely, using Puck’s first name by accident. “You shouldn’t waste that.”
“I know, I know,” Puck sighs, distinctly uncomfortable now. “One step at a time, yeah?”
“That sounds like a good idea to me,” Kurt replies, smiling encouragingly.
“Blaine seems like the kind of guy you’d really like,” Puck says suddenly.
Something in his tone feels wrong somehow, and Kurt narrows his eye suspiciously.
“Easy,” Puck murmurs, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m not trying to insult you. He’s…sophisticated, is what I’m trying to say. Polite. And he dresses nicely. You guys seem like you’d have pretty much everything in common.”
“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?”
“I’m not!” Puck protests. “I’m just making sure I know your type so that I can be an even better wingman next time. Unless you’re already planning on marrying Blaine and adopting a bunch of underprivileged kids, and if that’s the case, dude, I know you’re gay, but do you really have to be that gay?”
Kurt laughs lightly, his fears quashed for the time being. “I’m not planning on marrying Blaine any time soon, but I promise you can be my maid of honour when I do.”
Puck honestly doesn’t know whether to look terrified or flattered, so he settles for amused and vaguely nervous.
*
Friday’s non-date with Blaine looms over Kurt’s calendar like Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one. In the preceding days Puck proves to be a most invaluable friend. As the only one who knows about the date - Kurt isn’t even going to start thinking about why he doesn’t feel the need to tell anyone else - he is the one Kurt goes to for advice and, in a moment of desperation, help selecting an outfit. And whilst his own fashion sense leaves a lot to be desired, Puck certainly has a handle on what looks good on Kurt. Kurt had blushed madly when Puck made him change into a tighter pair of jeans, but he has to admit that the final product is much better for the swap. Tight black jeans and a soft green sweater with a wide neckline. It’s nowhere near as fancy as the kind of things Kurt usually wears, but Puck assured him that was a good thing and that this way he looked good without looking as though he was trying too hard to impress.
“Spider or musical note?” Kurt asks, holding up two brooches to either side of his chest.
“Neither,” Puck replies. “It distracts from your neck and that is not something you want to be doing.”
“Why?” Kurt asks.
“Dude, you don’t see skin like yours very often. It’s like…porcelain…or something. You should work that shit.”
Kurt glances at the mirror and finds that Puck has a point. The round neck of the sweater Puck had selected shows off his collarbone perfectly.
“You want him to be thinking about marking that pretty little neck of yours for at least half the afternoon,” Puck remarks, and Kurt’s skin heats at the very thought.
“Right,” he stammers. “Got it. Thanks.”
“Hey Kurt,” Puck says, standing up and moving to stand behind Kurt so that both their reflections are visible in the mirror. “Stop worrying. You’re everything a guy like Blaine could possibly want.”
Kurt’s blush deepens and his face cracks into an embarrassed smile. “Thanks Puck,” he says quietly.
“Whatever,” Puck replies. “Now hurry up or you’re going to be late.”
*
Kurt isn’t late, but Blaine is already sat waiting for him when he arrives. There are a couple of other kids from McKinley dotted around the room and he can feel their eyes on him as he makes his way to Blaine’s chosen table. The other boy is smiling warmly and Kurt wants to laugh with pure, unfiltered joy. This boy, this gorgeous creature, is waiting for Kurt Hummel, and he doesn’t care who knows it.
“Hi,” he says brightly, bravely taking the seat next to Blaine rather than across from him. “How are you?”
“I’m great,” Blaine replies. “You?”
They exchange pleasantries for a while before deciding to order. Kurt allows Blaine to treat him on the understanding that Kurt pays next time, and the knowledge that there will definitely be a next time wipes away any of Kurt’s remaining nerves. This isn’t half as scary as he thought it would be. It’s easy and comfortable and all that Kurt has ever really wanted in a first date.
“I bought a raspberry and white chocolate muffin to share,” Blaine adds as he returns to his seat. “I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Kurt replies. He feels like his face is going to break from all the smiling he’s doing, and he’d feel like a total idiot if it weren’t for the fact that Blaine is in exactly the same position.
The afternoon could not have gone better if Kurt had scripted it. Blaine is every inch the charming gentleman Kurt had hoped he would be. In between regaling Kurt with stories of life at Dalton Academy he takes the time to ask Kurt about his own life, and listens intently to everything Kurt has to say. Their sense of common ground only expands when the discussion turns unexpectedly to politics, and pretty soon Kurt is left with no doubt as to Blaine’s sexuality. Kurt has never had anyone come out to him before so he really has nothing to compare Blaine’s casual remark about an ex boyfriend with. He’s pretty sure that Blaine would come off favourably though; everything about him exudes confidence and a contentment with who he is that Kurt can only dream of attaining.
“I can’t believe you guys actually performed Push It at a school assembly,” Blaine says, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes as Kurt finishes his story about the Glee club’s very first public performance.
“It wasn’t one of our finer moments,” Kurt remarks, though there’s the hint of a smile on his face. “What about you…you must have some horror stories?”
“With the Warblers? Not so much. Everything we do is planned down to the last detail. We believe in polished, rehearsed-to-the-last-minute performances. The council would never vote for doing something like that.”
Kurt frowns slightly, unsure whether Blaine is judging New Directions for their lack of organisation or admiring them for their inventiveness.
“I can’t believe you have a council instead of a coach,” he replies, feeling his stomach twist slightly in what feels suspiciously like guilt. “Most of the time we don’t have a clue what we’re doing. Mr. Schue is enthusiastic, sometimes too enthusiastic, but we’re yet to really gel as a team.” When Kurt explains the mix of football players, Cheerios and losers that make up the McKinley Glee club Blaine’s eyebrows nearly disappear into his curls.
“That’s the great thing about the Warblers,” Blaine says eagerly. “Everyone really comes together for the good of the team. No egos, no fighting over solos, just really solid performances from everyone involved.”
Kurt smiles softly, pushing the guilty feeling to the far recesses of his mind. “That sounds like heaven.”
“You should come check us out some time,” Blaine urges. “I could get you a visitor pass so you could take in one of our lunchtime concerts? And you could take a look at Dalton too. The grounds are amazing this time of year.”
“I would love that,” Kurt replies, peeling off a piece of muffin and popping it into his mouth.
“Great. I’ll organise something as soon as possible.”
As they share yet another smile over long-cooled coffee cups Kurt gets the feeling that he’s going to owe Noah Puckerman big time by the time the evening is through.
Pairing: Puck/Kurt, very slight Kurt/Blaine
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: This is my version of Blaine. I'm aware that he isn't quite canon!Blaine but I hope you'll forgive me.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. The events within are entirely fictional.
Word Count: 3990
Previous Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine
“Would you rather lose your sight or your sense of smell?” Puck asks, holding the door open for Kurt as they step into the grimy record store.
78 Records is nothing like the polished, orderly store where Kurt usually shops for his music, but Puck had insisted that it was the only place a true music lover should go to get their fix. For once, Kurt hadn’t argued. This is the first time they have spent any time together without either one of them even attempting to use Glee club as an excuse, and Kurt is certain that means something. Something that he has no intention of spoiling with unnecessary bitchiness and a refusal to take any suggestion of Puck’s seriously.
“Smell,” he answers, without hesitation.
They’ve been playing ‘Would You Rather?’ since Puck pulled his truck out of Kurt’s driveway, and Kurt is surprised to note that it hasn’t become boring yet. Whilst Kurt had been expecting Puck to go for the jugular and use the game as an excuse to poke fun at Kurt’s sexual inexperience, he has actually asked some insightful, entertaining questions, and given proper answers to Kurt’s questions in turn. Granted, Kurt now knows more about Puck’s underwear preferences than he ever needed to, but if he’s honest, the knowledge isn’t entirely unwelcome. Having now resigned himself to the fact that Puck has set up home in Kurt’s masturbatory catalogue, at least now he can paint a more accurate picture of what lies under the other boy’s blue jeans, and Kurt has always been all about accuracy.
“Really?” Puck queries, heading straight for the Metal section. “It’s that easy for you?”
“Yes,” Kurt replies, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the crude artwork on some of the posters that line the walls. He casts a wary eye around at the menacing man behind the counter, the heavily tattooed shop assistant who is sneering in his direction, and the worn, dusty floorboards. Puck seems unbothered by the less than welcoming atmosphere and Kurt tells himself that as long as he sticks with the other boy, he’ll be fine. Feeling safe around Puck is still a relatively new concept for Kurt, but one that he is slowly getting used to.
“I need beautiful things to look at to distract me from the utter banality of my existence,” he adds. “Sight is absolutely essential to a fulfilling life. If you can’t see, you can’t love. It’s as simple as that.”
There’s a long period of silence following Kurt’s answer, during which Puck stares at the other boy so intently that Kurt’s skin begins to prickle uncomfortably.
“If you can’t see, you can’t love,” Puck repeats slowly, frowning deeply. “Dude, even I think that’s shallow.”
Kurt flushes slightly. “I didn’t mean it like that!” he says quickly. “I’m not referring to the need to see how physically attractive someone is. I’m thinking of the kind of things you probably think are totally lame, like sharing smiles across a crowded room or watching someone while they sleep. The kind of things that make love worthwhile.”
Puck is smirking now, and when Kurt replays his explanation in his head he’s pretty sure he can guess why.
“Spoken like a true virgin,” Puck remarks, but there’s no malice in the comment. “Take it from someone who knows, there are plenty of things that make love worthwhile that are much more enjoyable than watching someone sleep.” Puck’s smirk turns decidedly filthy and Kurt has to look away to keep from blushing.
“Like you know anything about being in love,” Kurt mutters darkly, determined to regain the upper hand.
The smile drops from Puck’s face but he remains calm. “I know that making eyes at each other across rooms ain’t going to cut it. If you don’t spend at least half your time thinking about fucking him through the mattress then you don’t really love him.”
Kurt rolls his eyes, trying desperately to ignore the jolt in his stomach at the realisation that Puck didn’t automatically assume Kurt would be a bottom. “Do you have to make everything about sex?”
Puck laughs. “How can you talk about love without talking about sex? Look, I know you’re all about romance and shit, but if you aren’t sexually compatible then the relationship is doomed. No matter how many smiles you share.”
“I suppose you may have a point,” Kurt admits, biting back a smile at the look of triumph on Puck’s face. He’s starting to grow rather fond of these little insights into the workings of Puck’s mind. If nothing else they are proof that Puck is a lot more thoughtful than Kurt ever gave him credit for. “Wait…are you telling me you’d rather give up your sight?” he asks disbelievingly.
“For sure,” Puck replies easily. “Smell is the sexiest sense of all. No way am I giving that up.”
Kurt raises a sceptical eyebrow.
“Think about it,” Puck urges. “People see each other all the time but when was the last time you were close enough to smell someone? And I’m not talking BO or any of that bullshit. I’m talking proper smelling. Like being able to tell when someone has changed their shampoo because they smell like mango instead of coconut.”
They are stood shoulder to shoulder now, and rather than drowning in the smell of Axe as he usually does in Puck’s presence, Kurt finds himself inhaling a heady mixture of cloves and vanilla, with just a hint of Puck’s natural heat. It’s an expensive aroma, but worth every penny if your aim is to make everyone around you desperate to find out if your skin tastes as good as it smells.
“Smell is intimate in a way that sight can never be,” Puck continues, apparently oblivious to Kurt’s present distraction. “The whole world can see how good your boyfriend looks, only you get to know how good he smells.”
Kurt is just gathering enough wit to prepare a response - something about half the population of Lima knowing how Puck smells - when a warm weight nudges his shoulder.
“Boyfriend or wingman?” Puck whispers, leaning over on the pretence of grabbing a Pantera CD.
“What?” Kurt hisses, eyes wide in confusion.
“The guy standing under the Smashing Pumpkins poster has been checking you out since we walked in. Are you interested or shall I pretend to be your boyfriend and scare him off?”
Kurt’s initial thought is to opt for the second offer, partly to see what Puck’s reaction would be and partly because the thought of another boy checking him out - if that’s truly what is happening, and personally Kurt’s not sure that it is - is as terrifying as it is exciting.
And then Kurt looks up, and the decision becomes a lot simpler.
The boy Puck had indicated is wearing a charcoal sweater and form-fitting black pants. His dark brown hair is carefully styled, save for one curl that has broken loose and now rests against his forehead. Even from a distance Kurt can tell that he smells fresh and clean, like springtime and new beginnings. He swallows down the smile that is itching to burst across his face and grabs a Metallica CD, continuing his appraisal whilst pretending to read the liner notes. Puck is mercifully silent, obviously waiting for Kurt to make a decision before sharing his own opinion on the boy.
A shop assistant is approaching the boy now, and when he raises his hands to indicate that he requires no assistance, Kurt’s attention is caught by graceful movements and a smile that seems to last forever.
“Wingman,” Kurt mutters. Puck nods sharply in response.
When he risks one more glance at the mystery boy, Kurt winds up looking straight into deep brown eyes. The boy smiles again, and Kurt returns it without a second thought.
“You ready for this?” Puck asks softly, as the boy sets down the CD he was looking at and heads in their direction.
“Of course,” Kurt replies, with an air of confidence they both know he isn’t feeling. He sneaks a quick look at his outfit and when he looks up again the boy is less than a metre away, grinning broadly.
“Hey,” the boy says as he closes the distance between them. “I’m Blaine.” He holds his hand out to Puck.
Puck seems amused by the formality of the gesture, but he shakes the offered hand out of what Kurt assumes is some hitherto undiscovered sense of politeness. “I’m Puck, and this is Kurt.”
Kurt smiles, surprisingly grateful to Puck for making the introduction on his behalf. His stomach feels like an explosion has just taken place there, and he can’t shake the feeling that this is a VERY IMPORTANT meeting.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Blaine replies, his gaze fixed on Kurt despite it having been Puck who had spoken to him. “I must admit, I didn’t have you pegged as a Metallica fan,” he remarks, nodding at the CD that Kurt is still clutching.
“I’m not,” Kurt replies, extremely relieved when his voice doesn’t wobble in the slightest. “We’re in Puck’s territory at the moment. I’m a little out of my comfort zone, to be honest.”
“Like a little lamb who’s lost in the wood,” Blaine croons, and Kurt laughs nervously, inwardly bracing himself for some vulgar remark from Puck.
Instead, Puck just coughs; sounding as awkward as Kurt imagines Noah Puckerman is capable of sounding. It’s such an unusual situation that Kurt only just manages to contain a most undignified snort.
“I think I’m going to check out the movies,” Puck announces, his eyes searching Kurt’s. If Kurt didn’t know better he’d say that Puck was making sure he was okay before leaving him. “It was nice to meet you Blaine,” Puck says, shooting the other boy a careful smile.
“You too,” Blaine replies. His smile is nothing like Puck’s. It’s open and friendly, and it puts Kurt at ease in a way that Puck has never managed to do.
Puck waits until it is safe to do so before turning to wink at Kurt. Kurt stifles a giggle and turns his attention back to the figure in front of him.
“Is your boyfriend the strong, silent type or did I say something wrong?” Blaine asks.
“God no,” Kurt replies. “He hardly ever shuts up. And he’s not my boyfriend. In fact, he’d probably beat you up for even suggesting it.”
Kurt might have an active imagination but there’s no way he dreamed up the pleased look that flickers across Blaine’s face at his reply. Encouraged, Kurt flashes Blaine a warm smile.
“So, what brings you to this fine establishment?” he asks.
“Judy,” Blaine sighs, brandishing a vinyl record with a sheepish smile. “I know, I know, I’m a horrible cliché. But it’s Judy. On vinyl. What’s a boy to do?” He smiles ruefully and that explosion in Kurt’s stomach morphs into a full-on hurricane.
“I understand,” Kurt replies, his brain still trying to work out whether Blaine just outed himself or not.
Luckily for Kurt, he is able to put the question out of his mind long enough to engage Blaine in a proper conversation. So engaged are they, in fact, that half an hour passes in the blink of an eye and they are still stood in the middle of the store discussing their favourite musical. Puck is nowhere to be seen, and Kurt makes a mental note to feel guilty about that later. Still, Puck had offered to be his wingman, and if their positions had been reversed Kurt has no doubt that Puck would have done exactly the same.
When Puck finally does reappear, carrying a bundle of CDs and looking thoroughly pleased with himself, Kurt has Blaine’s number in his phone and tentative plans to meet for coffee.
All in all it’s one of Kurt’s more successful shopping trips.
*
“So are you going to date this Blaine guy or what?” Puck asks, dropping into the booth opposite Kurt.
Much to Kurt’s surprise, Puck did not intend for them to drive straight home after visiting the record store. He insisted on treating Kurt to coffee in celebration of Kurt being picked up for the very first time. It’s not something Kurt ever imagined celebrating, and certainly not with Noah Puckerman, but he’s in too good a mood to protest. Besides, only a fool would turn down free coffee.
“I don’t know,” Kurt replies, suddenly nervous again, though he’s at a loss to explain why. Puck has been nothing but supportive all day. Encouraging without being pushy. Interested but not nosy. Most importantly, he made a hasty exit from the conversation and left Blaine and Kurt alone rather than standing there sprouting embarrassing stories about Kurt. The perfect wingman. “Thanks,” he says as Puck slides Kurt’s mocha across the table. “For the coffee, and for being so cool about this whole thing.”
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you that I think you deserve as much action as anyone?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Kurt warns. “I have no idea whether Blaine even likes guys.”
“I don’t know about guys in general, but he definitely likes you. Dude couldn’t keep his eyes off you,” Puck argues.
Kurt ducks his head in an attempt to hide his pleased smile.
“You really don’t believe me, do you?” Puck remarks, shaking his head slightly. “Underneath all the fancy clothes and catty remarks you’re just as insecure as the rest of us, aren’t you? More so, I reckon, given all the shit you’ve had to deal with over the years.”
Kurt scowls. He hates been psychoanalysed. “You’ve swapped pool cleaning for psychology now, have you?” he snaps. “And you’re a fine one to talk about insecurity, sleeping with anyone who’ll have you because it’s the only thing that makes you feel like you’re worth something.”
Puck takes a long time to consider his response, and that is enough to tell Kurt that this is going to be a debate, not an argument.
“That used to be the case, I guess,” Puck admits, with all the discomfort of someone who has only recently discovered something rather unpleasant about themselves. “I mean, it felt good too. Most of the time. But yeah, sex is the one thing I know I’m good at.”
“But with women old enough to be your mother?” Kurt presses.
“I thought because they were rich, they were classy,” Puck explains. “That them wanting me made me worth more than all the other losers shagging Cheerios on the weekends.”
Kurt shifts uncomfortably. Puck’s experience has always been a source of disdain for Kurt, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t also kind of a turn on. Something about all the things Puck could teach him gets to Kurt every single time.
“Now I have Glee club though,” Puck adds, snapping Kurt out of what may have become a very dangerous daydream. “And the football team is actually doing okay for once… I’m just not really feeling it anymore.”
“Noah Puckerman, bored with sex. I never thought I’d see the day,” Kurt quips.
“I never said I was bored with sex. Just escaping out of back doors with my pants round my ankles whenever jealous husbands arrive home early. I mean, I’m all for living dangerously but there has to be a limit.”
Kurt can’t help but laugh at the image Puck’s words conjure up, and he’s relieved when Puck joins in.
“That’s quite the revelation you’ve had there,” Kurt remarks when the laughter dies down, struggling to find a way to express how glad he is that Puck is starting to see the error of his ways.
Puck shrugs. “My dad was just like me in high school and look where he ended up,” he says bitterly. “I don’t want that. I used to think that I could do all the same dumb shit that he did without ending up the same way but now I’m not so sure.”
“I know Mr. Schue probably tells you this all the time, but you really do have a lot of potential Noah,” Kurt says sincerely, using Puck’s first name by accident. “You shouldn’t waste that.”
“I know, I know,” Puck sighs, distinctly uncomfortable now. “One step at a time, yeah?”
“That sounds like a good idea to me,” Kurt replies, smiling encouragingly.
“Blaine seems like the kind of guy you’d really like,” Puck says suddenly.
Something in his tone feels wrong somehow, and Kurt narrows his eye suspiciously.
“Easy,” Puck murmurs, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m not trying to insult you. He’s…sophisticated, is what I’m trying to say. Polite. And he dresses nicely. You guys seem like you’d have pretty much everything in common.”
“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?”
“I’m not!” Puck protests. “I’m just making sure I know your type so that I can be an even better wingman next time. Unless you’re already planning on marrying Blaine and adopting a bunch of underprivileged kids, and if that’s the case, dude, I know you’re gay, but do you really have to be that gay?”
Kurt laughs lightly, his fears quashed for the time being. “I’m not planning on marrying Blaine any time soon, but I promise you can be my maid of honour when I do.”
Puck honestly doesn’t know whether to look terrified or flattered, so he settles for amused and vaguely nervous.
*
Friday’s non-date with Blaine looms over Kurt’s calendar like Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one. In the preceding days Puck proves to be a most invaluable friend. As the only one who knows about the date - Kurt isn’t even going to start thinking about why he doesn’t feel the need to tell anyone else - he is the one Kurt goes to for advice and, in a moment of desperation, help selecting an outfit. And whilst his own fashion sense leaves a lot to be desired, Puck certainly has a handle on what looks good on Kurt. Kurt had blushed madly when Puck made him change into a tighter pair of jeans, but he has to admit that the final product is much better for the swap. Tight black jeans and a soft green sweater with a wide neckline. It’s nowhere near as fancy as the kind of things Kurt usually wears, but Puck assured him that was a good thing and that this way he looked good without looking as though he was trying too hard to impress.
“Spider or musical note?” Kurt asks, holding up two brooches to either side of his chest.
“Neither,” Puck replies. “It distracts from your neck and that is not something you want to be doing.”
“Why?” Kurt asks.
“Dude, you don’t see skin like yours very often. It’s like…porcelain…or something. You should work that shit.”
Kurt glances at the mirror and finds that Puck has a point. The round neck of the sweater Puck had selected shows off his collarbone perfectly.
“You want him to be thinking about marking that pretty little neck of yours for at least half the afternoon,” Puck remarks, and Kurt’s skin heats at the very thought.
“Right,” he stammers. “Got it. Thanks.”
“Hey Kurt,” Puck says, standing up and moving to stand behind Kurt so that both their reflections are visible in the mirror. “Stop worrying. You’re everything a guy like Blaine could possibly want.”
Kurt’s blush deepens and his face cracks into an embarrassed smile. “Thanks Puck,” he says quietly.
“Whatever,” Puck replies. “Now hurry up or you’re going to be late.”
*
Kurt isn’t late, but Blaine is already sat waiting for him when he arrives. There are a couple of other kids from McKinley dotted around the room and he can feel their eyes on him as he makes his way to Blaine’s chosen table. The other boy is smiling warmly and Kurt wants to laugh with pure, unfiltered joy. This boy, this gorgeous creature, is waiting for Kurt Hummel, and he doesn’t care who knows it.
“Hi,” he says brightly, bravely taking the seat next to Blaine rather than across from him. “How are you?”
“I’m great,” Blaine replies. “You?”
They exchange pleasantries for a while before deciding to order. Kurt allows Blaine to treat him on the understanding that Kurt pays next time, and the knowledge that there will definitely be a next time wipes away any of Kurt’s remaining nerves. This isn’t half as scary as he thought it would be. It’s easy and comfortable and all that Kurt has ever really wanted in a first date.
“I bought a raspberry and white chocolate muffin to share,” Blaine adds as he returns to his seat. “I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Kurt replies. He feels like his face is going to break from all the smiling he’s doing, and he’d feel like a total idiot if it weren’t for the fact that Blaine is in exactly the same position.
The afternoon could not have gone better if Kurt had scripted it. Blaine is every inch the charming gentleman Kurt had hoped he would be. In between regaling Kurt with stories of life at Dalton Academy he takes the time to ask Kurt about his own life, and listens intently to everything Kurt has to say. Their sense of common ground only expands when the discussion turns unexpectedly to politics, and pretty soon Kurt is left with no doubt as to Blaine’s sexuality. Kurt has never had anyone come out to him before so he really has nothing to compare Blaine’s casual remark about an ex boyfriend with. He’s pretty sure that Blaine would come off favourably though; everything about him exudes confidence and a contentment with who he is that Kurt can only dream of attaining.
“I can’t believe you guys actually performed Push It at a school assembly,” Blaine says, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes as Kurt finishes his story about the Glee club’s very first public performance.
“It wasn’t one of our finer moments,” Kurt remarks, though there’s the hint of a smile on his face. “What about you…you must have some horror stories?”
“With the Warblers? Not so much. Everything we do is planned down to the last detail. We believe in polished, rehearsed-to-the-last-minute performances. The council would never vote for doing something like that.”
Kurt frowns slightly, unsure whether Blaine is judging New Directions for their lack of organisation or admiring them for their inventiveness.
“I can’t believe you have a council instead of a coach,” he replies, feeling his stomach twist slightly in what feels suspiciously like guilt. “Most of the time we don’t have a clue what we’re doing. Mr. Schue is enthusiastic, sometimes too enthusiastic, but we’re yet to really gel as a team.” When Kurt explains the mix of football players, Cheerios and losers that make up the McKinley Glee club Blaine’s eyebrows nearly disappear into his curls.
“That’s the great thing about the Warblers,” Blaine says eagerly. “Everyone really comes together for the good of the team. No egos, no fighting over solos, just really solid performances from everyone involved.”
Kurt smiles softly, pushing the guilty feeling to the far recesses of his mind. “That sounds like heaven.”
“You should come check us out some time,” Blaine urges. “I could get you a visitor pass so you could take in one of our lunchtime concerts? And you could take a look at Dalton too. The grounds are amazing this time of year.”
“I would love that,” Kurt replies, peeling off a piece of muffin and popping it into his mouth.
“Great. I’ll organise something as soon as possible.”
As they share yet another smile over long-cooled coffee cups Kurt gets the feeling that he’s going to owe Noah Puckerman big time by the time the evening is through.