Fic: The Love Gods [14/?]
Title: The Love Gods [14/?]
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.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. The events within are entirely fictional.
Word Count: 3515
Previous Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen
Kurt winces as he is shoved into a locker, the pile of books in his arms tumbling to the floor. The tears that spring to his eyes are from shock rather than pain, but either way he refuses to let them fall. He glares at Karofsky’s retreating form, still blinking back the tears, before assessing the situation.
“Shit,” he curses softly. The takeaway coffees he’d bought for he and Puck are now forming a puddle on top of his math homework. He bends down to pick up his things, shaking them off as best he can. When he stands up, he finds Puck leaning against the locker next to him.
“You okay?” Puck asks, laying a tentative hand on Kurt’s lower back.
“I’m fine,” Kurt answers truthfully. He’d like nothing more than to throw his arms around Puck right now but he contents himself with soaking up the warm concern in Puck’s eyes. They haven’t had a chance to discuss exactly how public this relationship is going to be, and Kurt doesn’t want to do anything that might make Puck uncomfortable.
“Was it Karofsky?” Puck asks, stepping closer. His hand slips round to rest on Kurt’s waist, thumb rubbing in soothing circles. Kurt’s whole world narrows to the feel of that thumb and he sighs softly as he leans into the comforting touch.
“Yes,” Kurt replies quietly.
“You want me to sort it out?”
“No,” Kurt says quickly. “He’s not worth it.”
“What about your coffee, you want me to get you another one?” Puck offers.
“No thank you,” Kurt replies, his mood already improving in the face of Puck’s earnest desire to help. This is what having a boyfriend is supposed to be about: comfort and support and making everything better just by being there. “That one was yours actually,” he adds, pointing to the cup that used to contain a long black.
“I think I’ll pass,” Puck jokes. “I’m trying to cut back.”
The ghost of a grin flickers across Kurt’s face.
“For what it’s worth,” Puck remarks, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Your ass looked amazing when you bent over.”
The grin stays this time.
“Oh good,” Kurt replies drily. “At least the morning wasn’t a total waste then.”
Puck chuckles and wraps an arm around Kurt’s shoulder as he steers them towards their first period English class.
*
In retrospect, Kurt is pretty sure that it was a bad idea to insist that he be the one to take Puck out on Saturday given that he has absolutely no experience with such things. One thing he’s learnt over the past couple of months is that Puck isn’t used to people making an effort for him. Kurt is determined to change that. He wants their date to be the best Puck has ever been on. He just doesn’t have a clue how to make it so.
The big problem is that there is nowhere you can go in Lima where you aren’t likely to bump into at least three other people you know. Kurt has no intention of spending his first date being scrutinised by the patrons of Breadsticks or the local cinema. He needs to find somewhere that will give them some privacy, somewhere for them to just enjoy each other’s company and adjust to the change in their relationship.
Kurt is still trying to get used to the idea that someone wants him at all. The thought that Noah Puckerman, of all people, is walking around thinking of Kurt, of kissing Kurt, makes him want to burst out laughing. He has always worn his emotions close to the surface, so it’s a miracle that no one else has worked out what is going on. Whenever Puck is around Kurt feels as though his attraction is written all over his face in blushes and soft smiles. He likes the fact that it is their little secret, though he knows it can’t stay that way for long. They might not be ready to tell the whole school, but Kurt definitely wants his father to know, and that means that Finn and Carole will probably end up knowing as well. He also doesn’t like keeping things from Mercedes, and if they’re going to tell her they might as well tell the rest of the glee club too.
Sighing, Kurt runs a hand through his hair. He’s getting a bit ahead of himself now. They haven’t even been on their date yet. Hell, he hasn’t even decided where they’re going on their date yet.
*
Puck stares mournfully at his closet, willing the perfect outfit to jump out and report for duty. The text he’d received from Kurt earlier in the day said to dress casual, but Puck is well aware that his definition of the term is very different to Kurt’s. Casual for Puck is a relatively clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt that has only been worn two or three times since its last wash; for Kurt it’s probably the least skinny of his skinny jeans and only two layers on top rather than the usual seven. Not that Puck doesn’t appreciate the effort Kurt puts into his outfit selection. The other boy always looks amazing. Puck just wishes he could make Kurt realize that he looks amazing because he’s fucking hot, not because he wears expensive designer labels.
Puck glances at his watch. Kurt’s picking him up at two o’clock, which is kind of early for a date but whatever, Kurt’s in charge today and Puck’s not going to question him. He wanders over to the stereo, puts some Springsteen on and resumes the clothing search.
When he catches himself holding up two t-shirts to see which one goes better with his eyes, Puck laughs so hard he nearly wets his pants. He really ought to be a lot more freaked out about this whole thing than he actually is. He, Noah Puckerman, is attempting to impress Kurt Hummel with his fashion choices. Everyone else they know would tell him it is an impossible task. But Puck knows its not really about how good he ends up looking, it’s about making the effort in the first place.
With about fifteen minutes to go, he settles on a plain black t-shirt, black jeans and a pair of battered old sneakers. Kurt might pull him up on the footwear, but he figures he can’t go wrong with classic black. He quickly brushes his teeth and splashes on some of the hellishly expensive cologne he’d invested in back when he first started having feelings for Kurt. By the time he’s done a final mirror check the doorbell is ringing so he quickly grabs his phone and wallet and rushes down the stairs before his mom or worse, his little sister, can answer it.
Puck can’t quite believe his eyes when he first opens the door. Kurt is standing on his doorstep in the loosest pair of jeans Puck has ever seen him in, a black and white striped t-shirt and red Converse. There’s not a scarf or a sparkly brooch in sight. It’s just pale skin and slender hips and bright blue eyes. Kurt Hummel has never looked so good.
“Fuck,” Puck exclaims, his eyes raking over Kurt’s form. “Kurt…”
Kurt smiles softly at the appreciative look on Puck’s face. He feels relaxed enough to return the compliment and is rewarded with a blinding grin from Puck.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks, when he’s finally able to draw his attention away from the outline of Puck’s nipple ring.
“You bet,” Puck replies.
Kurt leads the way, opening the passenger door for Puck.
“Why thank you,” Puck replies, grinning.
Kurt’s iPod starts playing Black Dog as they pull out of the driveway. Puck grins again. He is no longer surprised by the fact that Kurt’s tastes are much less predictable than you might think, but it always makes him smile when he’s reminded of it. He loves getting to know Kurt better, especially now that he is getting to know him in a way that no one else ever has. The thought of being Kurt’s first everything drives him giddy with lust. Puck genuinely loves sex. For him, it’s not just about sticking his dick in a willing hole and hoping for the best; it’s about the smell and the sounds and the full on sensory overload that only happens with really good sex. He can’t wait to introduce Kurt to all of that, but at the same time he kind of hopes he has to. One of the best things about their relationship so far is the way it has gradually deepened over time. He doesn’t want to ruin that by jumping into anything physical too quickly. Besides, the anticipation will only make the first touch even more exciting.
“Okay,” Kurt says brightly, pulling into the parking lot of the local park. “Here we are.”
Having their date in the park was an idea that came to him late on Friday night, and as soon as he thought of it he wondered why it had taken him so long. There’s a chance that they will have privacy there, provided they pick their spot right, but if it gets too crowded they can always move on to somewhere else. Everything else kind of fell into place after that, and Kurt is now pretty sure their date will be all he wanted it to be.
They both hop out of the car and Puck waits for further instruction. He’s kind of enjoying the novelty of not being the one in control. Kurt opens the trunk of the car, revealing a small cooler and a large picnic basket.
“Would you mind taking these over to that patch of trees?” Kurt asks, nodding at the two items.
“Sure,” Puck replies, hauling the cooler out of the car.
Kurt watches him go before turning back to the trunk and pulling the blanket off the last couple of things he’d brought with him. He had to ask Finn to borrow them, claiming to be working on some bold new choreography ideas. His stepbrother had handed them over immediately, wishing Kurt luck and, thankfully, asking no further questions.
Puck is understandably surprised when Kurt joins him. He looks at the objects in Kurt’s arms, back up at Kurt, and then at Kurt’s arms again. “Should I be confused right now?” he asks. “Because I am.”
Kurt smiles shyly. “You told me once that baseball is your favourite sport,” he explains, dropping the bat, ball and glove to the floor. “I thought perhaps you could teach me?”
“You want to learn how to play baseball?” Puck queries skeptically.
“Not particularly,” Kurt admits, his smile turning sheepish. “But when the season starts up again and I’m going to watch my boyfriend play I’d like to at least have some idea of what is going on.”
Puck grins at the implication that Kurt, like Puck, is already thinking of this as a long-term thing. “I suppose I could help you out,” he replies, already moving to pick up the bat. “Why don’t we start with what you know?”
“Apart from the fact that the uniforms are hideous and it is played on a diamond, nothing,” Kurt replies.
Puck chuckles. “You got a blanket in there?” he asks, pointing to the basket. Kurt nods. “Okay. Let’s sit down and I’ll walk you through the basics.”
Half an hour later, Kurt is standing at home plate - a folded up piece of paper he’d found in his pocket - about to face his very first pitch. Puck has patiently explained and sometimes re-explained the basic rules, but Kurt has always learnt better from doing rather than listening. It’s a bit difficult to play a game with only the two of them, but Puck is confident that Kurt will at least be able to get the general idea.
“You ready?” Puck calls, baseball in hand.
“Bring it on,” Kurt replies.
He misses the first pitch. It sails right past him and hits the cooler. He frowns at Puck but when he turns around to retrieve the ball a pleased smile slips across his face. Puck isn’t going easy on him.
He misses the second pitch as well, though he at least manages to swing the bat before the ball passes him this time. To his credit, Puck is doing a remarkable job of not laughing. There’s a twitch of his lips when Kurt misses the third pitch but he quickly gets it under control. To be honest, Kurt’s not overly bothered if Puck does laugh, which surprises him. He tends to stick to things he knows he is good at specifically to avoid potentially embarrassing situations such as the one he is now in. But despite his complete inability to hit the ball, he’s actually having fun.
They swap positions, and Puck gives him a quick tutorial on pitching technique before taking up his stance at home plate. Kurt’s first pitch is a little wobbly but it covers the distance easily enough. Puck makes good contact and the ball goes sailing over Kurt’s head. Kurt suspects that Puck hadn’t hit it quite as hard as he was capable of, but more out of a desire not to lose the ball than the need to make Kurt feel better. He sets off to fetch the ball as Puck runs their makeshift bases, making it all the way home before Kurt picks it up.
Eventually, he manages to get Puck out. Apparently he has quite a gift for throwing curveballs.
His second time batting he does his best to remember the way Puck looks when he swings and replicate it. Much to his relief, he makes contact with the second pitch. It’s not a great hit by any stretch of the imagination. It rolls past first base and into a bush, so Kurt figures he has enough time to make it to second whilst Puck is finding the ball. He nearly gets there too, but when he is two steps away something suddenly collides with his side, knocking him off his feet. He lands on his back, Puck’s warm weight pressing into him from above.
“Hey!” Kurt exclaims. “You never told me you were allowed to tackle!”
“You’re not,” Puck replies nonchalantly. “But you look so fucking hot, I just couldn’t resist.”
“Oh,” Kurt says, blinking owlishly. “I guess that’s okay then.” They aren’t even doing anything, but the feel of Puck above him is enough to make Kurt’s cock twitch eagerly. He blushes, wondering how long he has before Puck notices.
It would be so easy for Puck to lean down and kiss Kurt right now. He certainly wants to, and judging by Kurt’s shallow breathing and darkened eyes, he wouldn’t protest if Puck did. But despite what Kurt might think, this isn’t some cheesy seduction move designed to create the perfect first kiss opportunity. This is Puck telling Kurt that they are friends first, and that he is okay with them hanging out as friends for as long as it takes for Kurt to feel comfortable wanting more. He’d have been just as likely to tackle Finn or Sam in this situation, though he definitely wouldn’t have said that them being hot was his motivation for doing so.
With a sigh, he rolls off Kurt, the two of them now lying on their backs on the grass. Puck closes his eyes against the bright sunlight, loving the feeling of the warm rays hitting his skin. Soft fingers brush the back of his hand. He turns his palm upwards, leaving the rest to Kurt. Moments later, Kurt’s fingers slide smoothly between his. Puck curls his fingers back, resting them on the ridges of Kurt’s knuckles.
Just the other day Kurt was fantasizing about how Puck’s guitar-calloused fingers would feel against his skin. Now he knows. They feel wonderful.
“Nice hit,” Puck remarks, breaking the companionable silence that had settled over them.
“Thank you,” Kurt replies. “And thank you for being so patient with me.”
“No problem,” Puck replies. “Baseball is a complicated game. No one understands all the rules the first time.”
“Finn told me there was a game on tomorrow,” Kurt says, glancing sideways at Puck. “You could come watch it with us if you like.”
“Your dad wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not,” Kurt insists. “You’d be more than welcome.” He has no idea whether he’s inviting Puck-the-friend or Puck-the-boyfriend, but he figures he’ll just take his cues from Puck.
“Cool.”
The rumbling of Puck’s stomach prompts Kurt to suggest that they make a start on the picnic he had prepared. Puck lays out the blanket under the shade of a tree whilst Kurt unpacks the basket.
“Dude, this looks delicious,” Puck remarks.
“It’s nothing special,” replies Kurt bashfully. It’s not exactly a lie. The food is your standard picnic fare - cold chicken, tomato and basil salad, bread rolls and coleslaw - but it is all homemade from the freshest of ingredients.
“You made all this, didn’t you,” Puck says.
“Yes,” Kurt replies.
“Are those sundried tomatoes in the salad?” Puck asks.
“Yes. You can take them out if you don’t like them.”
“Are you kidding? I love sundried tomatoes. They’re one of my favourite ingredients. I make this awesome pasta with tuna, shallots, cream and sundried tomatoes. It’s to die for.”
Kurt’s hand freezes halfway to the salad, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “You cook?”
Puck looks offended. “You didn’t try one of my bake sale cupcakes?”
“No Puck,” Kurt replies. “I did not try one of your pot-laced cupcakes.”
Puck chuckles. “I’ll have to make you a batch. Pot-free, I promise.”
“That would be nice.”
“My mom works a lot of late nights,” Puck adds. “It was either learn to cook something half decent or live off two-minute noodles and pizza. Once I started, I discovered I kind of like it.”
Any further discussion is put on hold whilst they eat. Puck is full of praise for the food, particularly the chocolate tart, which pleases Kurt because it is his mother’s recipe. When they are done eating, and the basket has been repacked with their leftovers, Puck settles down with his back against a tree. Kurt joins him, their shoulders pressed together. The afternoon soon disappears in a steady stream of conversation - food, the upcoming school holidays, cities they’d like to visit, the glee club’s chances at sectionals.
“Damn,” Kurt sighs, looking at his watch. “We really need to be heading home. I promised my dad I’d be home for dinner tonight. Apparently he and Carole have an announcement to make.”
“Dude, she’s totally knocked up!” Puck exclaims.
Kurt’s eyes widen. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You’re going to be a big brother,” Puck sings, nudging Kurt playfully.
Kurt groans. “Is it awful of me that I hope she isn’t? It took us long enough to get used to being a family of four. Adding a baby is going to make everything so much more complicated.”
Puck wraps an arm around Kurt’s shoulder. “Relax humbug. No point worrying until you’ve heard what they have to say. She might not be pregnant at all.”
They continue to chat as they gather their things. Everybody Wants to Be a Cat comes on in the car on the way home and they both sing along. Without Kurt even trying, the date has become a perfect combination of all the things that brought them to this point. It hadn’t occurred to him until they were playing earlier, but they probably wouldn’t even be here right now if it weren’t for Finn inviting Puck around to watch a baseball game. It feels right somehow that their first date should have involved the sport.
“So, you’re no longer a date virgin,” Puck says as Kurt pulls up outside his house. “How does it feel?”
“Good,” Kurt replies. “It feels really good, actually. Thank you.”
“You organized the whole thing,” Puck replies. “I should be the one thanking you.”
Kurt looks at him expectantly. “Go on then,” he quips.
Puck smirks and leans over, pressing a lingering kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “Thank you Kurt,” he murmurs.
Before Kurt can act on his urge to turn his head and touch their lips together, the passenger door is opening and Puck is climbing out of the car. He sucks in a shaky breath.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Puck says, scuffing his shoes against the sidewalk.
“Wait,” Kurt says insistently, killing the ignition and jumping out of the car. He crosses the distance between them and slides his arms around Puck’s waist. Puck pulls him closer, Kurt’s head resting on his shoulder.
“Good night Puck,” Kurt whispers.
“Night humbug,” Puck replies.
Neither boy makes any attempt to break the embrace.
“You’re going to be late,” Puck says reluctantly. “Go enjoy your dinner. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay,” Kurt says, stepping out of Puck’s arms.
His iPod selects Elbow on the way home. Kurt can’t help but laugh at the eerily appropriate choice.
Song Links:
1. Black Dog - Led Zeppelin
2. Everybody Wants to Be A Cat - the song that Puck and Kurt performed for their duet assignment for those who don't remember.
3. One Day Like This - Elbow. This is the song I imagine Kurt's iPod playing on the way home. If you're impatient but want to know why I chose it, I urge you to wait until the chorus kicks in.
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.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. The events within are entirely fictional.
Word Count: 3515
Previous Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen
Kurt winces as he is shoved into a locker, the pile of books in his arms tumbling to the floor. The tears that spring to his eyes are from shock rather than pain, but either way he refuses to let them fall. He glares at Karofsky’s retreating form, still blinking back the tears, before assessing the situation.
“Shit,” he curses softly. The takeaway coffees he’d bought for he and Puck are now forming a puddle on top of his math homework. He bends down to pick up his things, shaking them off as best he can. When he stands up, he finds Puck leaning against the locker next to him.
“You okay?” Puck asks, laying a tentative hand on Kurt’s lower back.
“I’m fine,” Kurt answers truthfully. He’d like nothing more than to throw his arms around Puck right now but he contents himself with soaking up the warm concern in Puck’s eyes. They haven’t had a chance to discuss exactly how public this relationship is going to be, and Kurt doesn’t want to do anything that might make Puck uncomfortable.
“Was it Karofsky?” Puck asks, stepping closer. His hand slips round to rest on Kurt’s waist, thumb rubbing in soothing circles. Kurt’s whole world narrows to the feel of that thumb and he sighs softly as he leans into the comforting touch.
“Yes,” Kurt replies quietly.
“You want me to sort it out?”
“No,” Kurt says quickly. “He’s not worth it.”
“What about your coffee, you want me to get you another one?” Puck offers.
“No thank you,” Kurt replies, his mood already improving in the face of Puck’s earnest desire to help. This is what having a boyfriend is supposed to be about: comfort and support and making everything better just by being there. “That one was yours actually,” he adds, pointing to the cup that used to contain a long black.
“I think I’ll pass,” Puck jokes. “I’m trying to cut back.”
The ghost of a grin flickers across Kurt’s face.
“For what it’s worth,” Puck remarks, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Your ass looked amazing when you bent over.”
The grin stays this time.
“Oh good,” Kurt replies drily. “At least the morning wasn’t a total waste then.”
Puck chuckles and wraps an arm around Kurt’s shoulder as he steers them towards their first period English class.
*
In retrospect, Kurt is pretty sure that it was a bad idea to insist that he be the one to take Puck out on Saturday given that he has absolutely no experience with such things. One thing he’s learnt over the past couple of months is that Puck isn’t used to people making an effort for him. Kurt is determined to change that. He wants their date to be the best Puck has ever been on. He just doesn’t have a clue how to make it so.
The big problem is that there is nowhere you can go in Lima where you aren’t likely to bump into at least three other people you know. Kurt has no intention of spending his first date being scrutinised by the patrons of Breadsticks or the local cinema. He needs to find somewhere that will give them some privacy, somewhere for them to just enjoy each other’s company and adjust to the change in their relationship.
Kurt is still trying to get used to the idea that someone wants him at all. The thought that Noah Puckerman, of all people, is walking around thinking of Kurt, of kissing Kurt, makes him want to burst out laughing. He has always worn his emotions close to the surface, so it’s a miracle that no one else has worked out what is going on. Whenever Puck is around Kurt feels as though his attraction is written all over his face in blushes and soft smiles. He likes the fact that it is their little secret, though he knows it can’t stay that way for long. They might not be ready to tell the whole school, but Kurt definitely wants his father to know, and that means that Finn and Carole will probably end up knowing as well. He also doesn’t like keeping things from Mercedes, and if they’re going to tell her they might as well tell the rest of the glee club too.
Sighing, Kurt runs a hand through his hair. He’s getting a bit ahead of himself now. They haven’t even been on their date yet. Hell, he hasn’t even decided where they’re going on their date yet.
*
Puck stares mournfully at his closet, willing the perfect outfit to jump out and report for duty. The text he’d received from Kurt earlier in the day said to dress casual, but Puck is well aware that his definition of the term is very different to Kurt’s. Casual for Puck is a relatively clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt that has only been worn two or three times since its last wash; for Kurt it’s probably the least skinny of his skinny jeans and only two layers on top rather than the usual seven. Not that Puck doesn’t appreciate the effort Kurt puts into his outfit selection. The other boy always looks amazing. Puck just wishes he could make Kurt realize that he looks amazing because he’s fucking hot, not because he wears expensive designer labels.
Puck glances at his watch. Kurt’s picking him up at two o’clock, which is kind of early for a date but whatever, Kurt’s in charge today and Puck’s not going to question him. He wanders over to the stereo, puts some Springsteen on and resumes the clothing search.
When he catches himself holding up two t-shirts to see which one goes better with his eyes, Puck laughs so hard he nearly wets his pants. He really ought to be a lot more freaked out about this whole thing than he actually is. He, Noah Puckerman, is attempting to impress Kurt Hummel with his fashion choices. Everyone else they know would tell him it is an impossible task. But Puck knows its not really about how good he ends up looking, it’s about making the effort in the first place.
With about fifteen minutes to go, he settles on a plain black t-shirt, black jeans and a pair of battered old sneakers. Kurt might pull him up on the footwear, but he figures he can’t go wrong with classic black. He quickly brushes his teeth and splashes on some of the hellishly expensive cologne he’d invested in back when he first started having feelings for Kurt. By the time he’s done a final mirror check the doorbell is ringing so he quickly grabs his phone and wallet and rushes down the stairs before his mom or worse, his little sister, can answer it.
Puck can’t quite believe his eyes when he first opens the door. Kurt is standing on his doorstep in the loosest pair of jeans Puck has ever seen him in, a black and white striped t-shirt and red Converse. There’s not a scarf or a sparkly brooch in sight. It’s just pale skin and slender hips and bright blue eyes. Kurt Hummel has never looked so good.
“Fuck,” Puck exclaims, his eyes raking over Kurt’s form. “Kurt…”
Kurt smiles softly at the appreciative look on Puck’s face. He feels relaxed enough to return the compliment and is rewarded with a blinding grin from Puck.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks, when he’s finally able to draw his attention away from the outline of Puck’s nipple ring.
“You bet,” Puck replies.
Kurt leads the way, opening the passenger door for Puck.
“Why thank you,” Puck replies, grinning.
Kurt’s iPod starts playing Black Dog as they pull out of the driveway. Puck grins again. He is no longer surprised by the fact that Kurt’s tastes are much less predictable than you might think, but it always makes him smile when he’s reminded of it. He loves getting to know Kurt better, especially now that he is getting to know him in a way that no one else ever has. The thought of being Kurt’s first everything drives him giddy with lust. Puck genuinely loves sex. For him, it’s not just about sticking his dick in a willing hole and hoping for the best; it’s about the smell and the sounds and the full on sensory overload that only happens with really good sex. He can’t wait to introduce Kurt to all of that, but at the same time he kind of hopes he has to. One of the best things about their relationship so far is the way it has gradually deepened over time. He doesn’t want to ruin that by jumping into anything physical too quickly. Besides, the anticipation will only make the first touch even more exciting.
“Okay,” Kurt says brightly, pulling into the parking lot of the local park. “Here we are.”
Having their date in the park was an idea that came to him late on Friday night, and as soon as he thought of it he wondered why it had taken him so long. There’s a chance that they will have privacy there, provided they pick their spot right, but if it gets too crowded they can always move on to somewhere else. Everything else kind of fell into place after that, and Kurt is now pretty sure their date will be all he wanted it to be.
They both hop out of the car and Puck waits for further instruction. He’s kind of enjoying the novelty of not being the one in control. Kurt opens the trunk of the car, revealing a small cooler and a large picnic basket.
“Would you mind taking these over to that patch of trees?” Kurt asks, nodding at the two items.
“Sure,” Puck replies, hauling the cooler out of the car.
Kurt watches him go before turning back to the trunk and pulling the blanket off the last couple of things he’d brought with him. He had to ask Finn to borrow them, claiming to be working on some bold new choreography ideas. His stepbrother had handed them over immediately, wishing Kurt luck and, thankfully, asking no further questions.
Puck is understandably surprised when Kurt joins him. He looks at the objects in Kurt’s arms, back up at Kurt, and then at Kurt’s arms again. “Should I be confused right now?” he asks. “Because I am.”
Kurt smiles shyly. “You told me once that baseball is your favourite sport,” he explains, dropping the bat, ball and glove to the floor. “I thought perhaps you could teach me?”
“You want to learn how to play baseball?” Puck queries skeptically.
“Not particularly,” Kurt admits, his smile turning sheepish. “But when the season starts up again and I’m going to watch my boyfriend play I’d like to at least have some idea of what is going on.”
Puck grins at the implication that Kurt, like Puck, is already thinking of this as a long-term thing. “I suppose I could help you out,” he replies, already moving to pick up the bat. “Why don’t we start with what you know?”
“Apart from the fact that the uniforms are hideous and it is played on a diamond, nothing,” Kurt replies.
Puck chuckles. “You got a blanket in there?” he asks, pointing to the basket. Kurt nods. “Okay. Let’s sit down and I’ll walk you through the basics.”
Half an hour later, Kurt is standing at home plate - a folded up piece of paper he’d found in his pocket - about to face his very first pitch. Puck has patiently explained and sometimes re-explained the basic rules, but Kurt has always learnt better from doing rather than listening. It’s a bit difficult to play a game with only the two of them, but Puck is confident that Kurt will at least be able to get the general idea.
“You ready?” Puck calls, baseball in hand.
“Bring it on,” Kurt replies.
He misses the first pitch. It sails right past him and hits the cooler. He frowns at Puck but when he turns around to retrieve the ball a pleased smile slips across his face. Puck isn’t going easy on him.
He misses the second pitch as well, though he at least manages to swing the bat before the ball passes him this time. To his credit, Puck is doing a remarkable job of not laughing. There’s a twitch of his lips when Kurt misses the third pitch but he quickly gets it under control. To be honest, Kurt’s not overly bothered if Puck does laugh, which surprises him. He tends to stick to things he knows he is good at specifically to avoid potentially embarrassing situations such as the one he is now in. But despite his complete inability to hit the ball, he’s actually having fun.
They swap positions, and Puck gives him a quick tutorial on pitching technique before taking up his stance at home plate. Kurt’s first pitch is a little wobbly but it covers the distance easily enough. Puck makes good contact and the ball goes sailing over Kurt’s head. Kurt suspects that Puck hadn’t hit it quite as hard as he was capable of, but more out of a desire not to lose the ball than the need to make Kurt feel better. He sets off to fetch the ball as Puck runs their makeshift bases, making it all the way home before Kurt picks it up.
Eventually, he manages to get Puck out. Apparently he has quite a gift for throwing curveballs.
His second time batting he does his best to remember the way Puck looks when he swings and replicate it. Much to his relief, he makes contact with the second pitch. It’s not a great hit by any stretch of the imagination. It rolls past first base and into a bush, so Kurt figures he has enough time to make it to second whilst Puck is finding the ball. He nearly gets there too, but when he is two steps away something suddenly collides with his side, knocking him off his feet. He lands on his back, Puck’s warm weight pressing into him from above.
“Hey!” Kurt exclaims. “You never told me you were allowed to tackle!”
“You’re not,” Puck replies nonchalantly. “But you look so fucking hot, I just couldn’t resist.”
“Oh,” Kurt says, blinking owlishly. “I guess that’s okay then.” They aren’t even doing anything, but the feel of Puck above him is enough to make Kurt’s cock twitch eagerly. He blushes, wondering how long he has before Puck notices.
It would be so easy for Puck to lean down and kiss Kurt right now. He certainly wants to, and judging by Kurt’s shallow breathing and darkened eyes, he wouldn’t protest if Puck did. But despite what Kurt might think, this isn’t some cheesy seduction move designed to create the perfect first kiss opportunity. This is Puck telling Kurt that they are friends first, and that he is okay with them hanging out as friends for as long as it takes for Kurt to feel comfortable wanting more. He’d have been just as likely to tackle Finn or Sam in this situation, though he definitely wouldn’t have said that them being hot was his motivation for doing so.
With a sigh, he rolls off Kurt, the two of them now lying on their backs on the grass. Puck closes his eyes against the bright sunlight, loving the feeling of the warm rays hitting his skin. Soft fingers brush the back of his hand. He turns his palm upwards, leaving the rest to Kurt. Moments later, Kurt’s fingers slide smoothly between his. Puck curls his fingers back, resting them on the ridges of Kurt’s knuckles.
Just the other day Kurt was fantasizing about how Puck’s guitar-calloused fingers would feel against his skin. Now he knows. They feel wonderful.
“Nice hit,” Puck remarks, breaking the companionable silence that had settled over them.
“Thank you,” Kurt replies. “And thank you for being so patient with me.”
“No problem,” Puck replies. “Baseball is a complicated game. No one understands all the rules the first time.”
“Finn told me there was a game on tomorrow,” Kurt says, glancing sideways at Puck. “You could come watch it with us if you like.”
“Your dad wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not,” Kurt insists. “You’d be more than welcome.” He has no idea whether he’s inviting Puck-the-friend or Puck-the-boyfriend, but he figures he’ll just take his cues from Puck.
“Cool.”
The rumbling of Puck’s stomach prompts Kurt to suggest that they make a start on the picnic he had prepared. Puck lays out the blanket under the shade of a tree whilst Kurt unpacks the basket.
“Dude, this looks delicious,” Puck remarks.
“It’s nothing special,” replies Kurt bashfully. It’s not exactly a lie. The food is your standard picnic fare - cold chicken, tomato and basil salad, bread rolls and coleslaw - but it is all homemade from the freshest of ingredients.
“You made all this, didn’t you,” Puck says.
“Yes,” Kurt replies.
“Are those sundried tomatoes in the salad?” Puck asks.
“Yes. You can take them out if you don’t like them.”
“Are you kidding? I love sundried tomatoes. They’re one of my favourite ingredients. I make this awesome pasta with tuna, shallots, cream and sundried tomatoes. It’s to die for.”
Kurt’s hand freezes halfway to the salad, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “You cook?”
Puck looks offended. “You didn’t try one of my bake sale cupcakes?”
“No Puck,” Kurt replies. “I did not try one of your pot-laced cupcakes.”
Puck chuckles. “I’ll have to make you a batch. Pot-free, I promise.”
“That would be nice.”
“My mom works a lot of late nights,” Puck adds. “It was either learn to cook something half decent or live off two-minute noodles and pizza. Once I started, I discovered I kind of like it.”
Any further discussion is put on hold whilst they eat. Puck is full of praise for the food, particularly the chocolate tart, which pleases Kurt because it is his mother’s recipe. When they are done eating, and the basket has been repacked with their leftovers, Puck settles down with his back against a tree. Kurt joins him, their shoulders pressed together. The afternoon soon disappears in a steady stream of conversation - food, the upcoming school holidays, cities they’d like to visit, the glee club’s chances at sectionals.
“Damn,” Kurt sighs, looking at his watch. “We really need to be heading home. I promised my dad I’d be home for dinner tonight. Apparently he and Carole have an announcement to make.”
“Dude, she’s totally knocked up!” Puck exclaims.
Kurt’s eyes widen. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You’re going to be a big brother,” Puck sings, nudging Kurt playfully.
Kurt groans. “Is it awful of me that I hope she isn’t? It took us long enough to get used to being a family of four. Adding a baby is going to make everything so much more complicated.”
Puck wraps an arm around Kurt’s shoulder. “Relax humbug. No point worrying until you’ve heard what they have to say. She might not be pregnant at all.”
They continue to chat as they gather their things. Everybody Wants to Be a Cat comes on in the car on the way home and they both sing along. Without Kurt even trying, the date has become a perfect combination of all the things that brought them to this point. It hadn’t occurred to him until they were playing earlier, but they probably wouldn’t even be here right now if it weren’t for Finn inviting Puck around to watch a baseball game. It feels right somehow that their first date should have involved the sport.
“So, you’re no longer a date virgin,” Puck says as Kurt pulls up outside his house. “How does it feel?”
“Good,” Kurt replies. “It feels really good, actually. Thank you.”
“You organized the whole thing,” Puck replies. “I should be the one thanking you.”
Kurt looks at him expectantly. “Go on then,” he quips.
Puck smirks and leans over, pressing a lingering kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “Thank you Kurt,” he murmurs.
Before Kurt can act on his urge to turn his head and touch their lips together, the passenger door is opening and Puck is climbing out of the car. He sucks in a shaky breath.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Puck says, scuffing his shoes against the sidewalk.
“Wait,” Kurt says insistently, killing the ignition and jumping out of the car. He crosses the distance between them and slides his arms around Puck’s waist. Puck pulls him closer, Kurt’s head resting on his shoulder.
“Good night Puck,” Kurt whispers.
“Night humbug,” Puck replies.
Neither boy makes any attempt to break the embrace.
“You’re going to be late,” Puck says reluctantly. “Go enjoy your dinner. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay,” Kurt says, stepping out of Puck’s arms.
His iPod selects Elbow on the way home. Kurt can’t help but laugh at the eerily appropriate choice.
Song Links:
1. Black Dog - Led Zeppelin
2. Everybody Wants to Be A Cat - the song that Puck and Kurt performed for their duet assignment for those who don't remember.
3. One Day Like This - Elbow. This is the song I imagine Kurt's iPod playing on the way home. If you're impatient but want to know why I chose it, I urge you to wait until the chorus kicks in.