Glee Fic. WTF?

[glittery_alien]

Yeah I know. I suck. I should be working on my Merlin story, but Glee has kind of hooked me into it's fandom and it is NOT letting go. Bad fandom, bad!

Title: Grave Matters
Rating: R because Puck can't stop cursing.
Pairing: Puck/Kurt pre-slash. But slashy enough.
Beta: gleeful_beat THANK YOU SO MUCH! I hope I didn't kill you!
Warnings: None. Except for angst and fluffiness. Maybe some OOC moments.
Spoilers: None that I can think of but the first 13 episodes just to be safe.
Summary: When he sees someone crying, Noah Puckerman goes from total badass to Disney f**king Princess in five seconds flat.


Noah Puckerman was a bad ass.

If you ask at McKinley High they will tell you that Puck was a notorious bad ass with a damn fine body that every Cheerio (and MILF) wanted. Hell, he figured. Even some dudes probably wanted a piece of him. No one messed with him, not if they didn’t want the shit kicked out of them. Everyone thought he was the toughest dude in school. You say Puck they say tough. It even almost fucking rhymes.

But the one thing that ever really got through his epic badassness was the sight of someone crying. And shit. He was a dude. A totally awesome punch you in the face dude. You could throw sick puppies, dead bunnies and decapitated kittens at him and he wouldn’t give a crap. Nothing was supposed to bother him. Make him feel anything. ‘Cause feelings were fucking useless. You feel, you get hurt. End of fucking story.

But that didn’t explain why, after Glee club had let out, he was following the sound of someone crying. No, scratch that. Someone was sobbing. The kind of crying that Puck figured made your insides hurt. The kind that turned breathing impossible and made your throat feel like sand paper.

The crying led him to the washroom where most of the Glee kids cleaned themselves up after being slushied. He had stopped doing that a couple of weeks ago. He figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to piss his fellow club members off. Plus, it was a waste of money. And a small part (okay a huge part) of him felt guilty after watching the gleeks trying to get the stains out of their clothes.

He pushed open the door silently and found a small figure hunched on the floor, sobbing into their knees that they had pulled into their chest and holy shit…it was Kurt. Kurt fucking Hummel. The dude who still spat insults when climbing out of a dumpster. The kid who never seemed to let anything bother him. Puck had always privately thought Hummel was the toughest little shit in school, not him. So seeing Kurt like this freaked the ever loving crap out of him.

At a loss as to what he should do he could only stare for a few minutes as Kurt continued to break down, unaware of Puck’s presence. He glanced down at his feet and saw Kurt’s iPhone laying dangerously close to a puddle of water. It seemed like the fairy had thrown it. But why? The stupid thing was like his lifeline.

Puck inwardly steeled himself, picked up the phone and cautiously made his way over to Kurt.

He knew that if Hummel figured out who he was right away he’d close up faster than Santana’s legs after Puck drunkenly confessed to her that he was the father of Quinn’s baby, so he carefully slid down beside the other boy and gently placed a hand on his back.

Kurt immediately went tense under his touch but Puck merely moved his hand up to the back of Hummel’s neck and squeezed softly. The same way his mom did to him when he was younger.

The soprano’s body lost its rigidity and Puck started to rub his back in slow circles, trying to be of some comfort. He didn’t really know why he was doing this. But there had always been something about Kurt that got to him. The way he always managed to grab people’s attention, but cleverly hid who he really was. The strong line of his shoulders as he held his chin up high after all the constant bullying he was subjected to. Puck fucking admired the dude. It pissed him off a lot that the fairy had managed to get by Puck’s defences without knowing, without even fucking trying. And now seeing Kurt like this, his defences down in front of Puck, made his chest ache in a way it never had before.

He took a deep breath. “Can you tell me what happened?” Puck asked quietly.

Kurt’s demeanor didn’t change. Puck had honestly expected the other boy to scramble away from him. To deny everything and high tale it out of the washroom. But Kurt, if it was even possible, cried harder and wrapped himself up even tighter.

“Jesus, Hummel.” Puck said slightly alarmed. “Did someone hurt you? Is there someone I need to beat the shit out of?” An icy feeling flooded his body as a terrible thought hit him. “Has…has someone touched you?”

Kurt merely shook his head and managed to force out a shaky, “No.”

“Then what is it? Come on, man. I’ve never seen you like this. What’s wrong?”

The soprano took a deep shuddering breath and lifted his head and Puck’s heart clenched at the sight of the other boy’s blotchy face and tormented eyes.

Kurt was silent as he plucked his iPhone from Puck’s grip and with a shaking hand he opened up his picture messages. Without a word, but still crying, Kurt handed the phone back to Puck.

The picture staring back at him made his heart drop and every thought was wiped from his mind.

The picture was that of a grave stone. It had been graffitied with hateful words, like Fag and Slut, with disgusting drawings scrawled in between them . He looked close at the name on the stone, even though he knew whose it had to be, and he read the name Grace Hummel.

Kurt’s mom. Holy fucking shit.

“I…I’m sorry,” he said. And really. What else was there to say? He couldn’t tell Kurt that it was alright because this wasn’t right. This was so fucking wrong. It made him feel sick. Who the fuck could be so cruel? Even when he was picking on Hummel he would never, never have pulled shit like this. This was too much. He was gonna kill whoever did this. Rip them apart. He felt rage like he had never felt course through his body and it escaped in a harsh breath, “I’m going to fucking murder this asshole.” Or the whole hockey team at least. He was fairly certain it was some bastard like Karofsky who did this.

Kurt didn’t respond to that. He only buried his head in his knees again and tried to calm himself down.

It took all Puck had to push his anger and hatred aside. Kurt needed comfort right now, not a deranged psychopath hell bent on slaughtering someone.

He heard Hummel give a hiccuping snort and Puck realized with some embarrassment that he had said that out loud.

“Why do you even care?” Kurt asked his voice hoarse and low.

Puck sighed. “’Cause even when I was an ass to you and slushied and dumpster tossed you, I never wanted to see you like this. And I know I was horrible to you and you have no reason to trust me when I say girly shit like this but I mean it, dude. This is…fuck. I can’t even say what this is.” He shut Kurt’s phone off angrily and shoved it away.

Kurt was quiet for a while and Puck thought he might have died from shock or something retarded like that, when the other boy spoke up;

“You never slushied me,” he whispered.

“What?” Really, what the hell?

Kurt lifted his head to look at him and Puck’s heart did that funny thing when he had no choice but to stare at Kurt’s puffy red eyes.

“You never slushied me,” he repeated. “Not once.”

“Oh.”

They were both silent again before Kurt started to speak in a pained voice.

“Did I do something?”

“What do you mean?” Puck said as Kurt stared off into space.

“That’s the only reason I can think of for someone doing something like this. Did I do something to deserve it? Does being a fag warrant having my mother’s grave stone defaced like some dark, disgusting alley way?” More tears trailed out of his eyes. “What did I do?”

“Kurt….you…Jesus, you don’t deserve this. You haven’t done a God damned thing. This is just some arrogant fucker who isn’t worth anything. And I don’t want to hear you calling yourself a…that name.” Puck said, not feeling comfortable using the word after he’d seen it spray painted onto Kurt’s mom’s gravestone. “You may be gay, dude, but you’re a hell of a lot more than that. The bastard who did this can’t see that, but there are a shit ton of other people who can.”

Kurt looked like he was going cry again so Puck did the only thing he could think of and tugged on the soprano so that he was practically on Puck’s lap and let the him cry into his chest.

Puck held him as tightly as he could as Kurt’s small hands bunched in his shirt. He rested his cheek in Kurt’s soft hair and didn’t care if it looked gay. It was really fucking gay but Puck didn’t care. Hummel’s hair smelt good. Better than the cheap ass perfume of the cougars and the overwhelming scent of what ever shit Santana used.

“What am I going to tell my dad?” Kurt asked, voice muffled.

“We’ll figure something out.” Puck assured him.

“This will kill him.” Kurt said in a shaky voice. “He never got over my mom. We visit her grave every week. He can’t see it like that. I…I need to clean it…or…he’ll-” His voice broke into a sob and he clung to Puck harder.

“Hey, hey, shhh…Kurt.” Puck said softly. “It’s going to be okay. Your dad won’t have to see it alright? And there is no way in hell I’m letting you clean it. That’s not something you should have to do.”

He felt Kurt nod but the boy still couldn’t get his crying under control so Puck did something else his mother used to do for him. He started to hum quietly, a tune vaguely resembling a lullaby, and began to rub Kurt’s back again, hoping to help him calm down.

Not too long after he felt Kurt’s grip slacken and his breathing return to normal and Puck let out a relieved breath. He looked down at the smaller boy and oh…perhaps it worked too well because he was fast asleep.

“Shit.” He whispered not wanting to wake Kurt. Suddenly Kurt’s phone vibrated and Puck hastily grabbed it off the floor. He was thankful to see it was Mercedes calling

“Hey, Mercedes?” He asked cautiously.

“Who’s this?” She demanded. “I swear if this is some stupid jock who stole my boy’s phone-”

“Chill, Aretha. It’s Puck and I’m-”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” She snapped. “What have you done this time Mohawk? Do I need to track you down and-”

“Shhh!” He hissed as Kurt shifted in his sleep. “God, keep it down would you? I haven’t done anything to Kurt but…I do need your help. And so does he.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, instantly becoming overly protective.

“I…look I found Kurt in the washroom nearest the Glee club room. He’s not doing good. Can you help me get him home? And we need to call an emergency Glee meeting. Get everyone back to school.”

“Why? Puck what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain when you get here alright? I promise.”

“Fine white boy but you better not be messing with me.” Mercedes threatened before she hung up.

Not twenty minutes later Mercedes had arrived and had been briefed on the situation. After ten minutes of her swearing to cut off every dick on the hockey team, they managed to get Kurt, who had blearily told Mercedes to calm down after she woke up him, into her car. The three of them were currently pulling into Kurt’s drive way.

“I’ll get you inside.” Puck said as Kurt dug through his messenger bag, looking for his keys. “You said your dad isn’t home?”

“Yes. He’s gone away for a few days.” Kurt told them as he got out of the car.

Puck nodded. “Right. I need you to call everyone,” he said quietly to Mercedes. “Get them to meet us at the school with any kind of cleaning shit they can get their hands on.”

Mercedes whipped out her phone. “I’m all over it,” she said as Puck made to join Kurt. “And hey…thanks,” she said. “For looking after him.”

Puck merely grunted and placed his hand on the small of Kurt’s back and guided him to his house.

“Where’s your room?” Puck asked after he had pulled Kurt inside.

“Basement,” he replied in a raspy voice.

Puck nodded. He quickly found the basement door and led the smaller boy down the stairs.

He sat Kurt on his bed and saw that he had a bathroom, a fucking huge one attached to his room. He shuffled over to the sink where he found a Little Mermaid mug and filled it with cold water.

“Here.” Puck said holding the glass out to Kurt as he sat next to him.

“Thank you.” Kurt replied softly as he took a few sips.

“Classy mug. Suits you.”

Puck was awarded with a tiny smile. “I think so too. My…my mom gave it to me. About a week before she died.” He held the now empty mug up and showed Puck the bottom. There was an old and extremely faded sticker stuck to the surface and Puck could just make out the inscription. “For my little Princess. All my love. Mom”

“Your mom seems like she was awesome.”

Kurt nodded as he traced the small words. “She was. She knew even then that I was…different. She’d always tell me that it was okay and not to let other people tell me it wasn’t. Of course I had no idea what she was talking about. But I do now and I’m grateful to her for telling me that, even when I didn’t understand.”

A few tears trickled down his cheek and Puck gently took the mug from Kurt and set it on his bedside table.

“Come on. You should get some rest. No offense Hummel but you look like shit.”

Kurt let out a surprised laugh and Puck smiled along with him.

Puck helped him out of his shoes and socks and watched as Kurt crawled under his covers and let out a tired sigh.

“Do you need anything else?” He asked.

“Umm…could you pass me the afghan on the couch?” Kurt requested nodding towards and light blue and green blanket.

“You got it.” Puck replied striding over and grabbing the soft and worn material. He shook it open and as if acting on instinct he turned and draped the blanket over Kurt’s form, settling it under his chin.

It looked hand made and well used so Puck asked as he sat on the edge of Kurt’s bed, “Your mom made this didn’t she?”

“Yes.” Kurt said. “I always use it when I need to feel closer to her. I remember when she was making it. I used to sit in her lap as she knitted and fall asleep. When I close my eyes I can still smell her perfume.” He said his voice wavering as he sucked in a deep breath through his nose.

Puck lay a hesitant hand on Kurt’s head. “Get some sleep, ok?” He pushed the other boy’s hair off his warm forehead. “I have to go for a bit. But…if you want I can come back and we can hang out or whatever.”

“Where are you going?” Kurt asked quietly as sleep crept up on him.

“There’s something I have to take care of. If you need something call me, okay?” Puck told him as he pulled Kurt’s forgotten phone out of his jean’s pocket.

He entered his number in the contacts. He then forwarded the pictures Kurt had been sent to his own phone before he angrily deleted the revolting images of the gravestone.

“Thanks Noah.” Kurt whispered succumbing to exhaustion. “For everything.”

“Anytime, Hummel. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Kurt murmured something incomprehensible as Puck headed upstairs.

Once back in the car with Mercedes they began a slow, quiet drive back to the school.

“Everyone’s gonna meet us.” Mercedes, told Puck as she turned a corner. “I didn’t tell them everything. Just that some asshole did something to Kurt. It didn’t feel right saying it over the phone.”

Puck nodded. “I sent the pictures to my phone. I deleted them from Kurt’s though.”

“Look, I gotta ask.” Mercedes said. “Why are you doing this? I know you’ve been a bit nicer to everyone since you joined Glee. And I know Rachel doesn’t miss those slushie facials you used to give her. But I never expected something like this from you.”

“Honestly, I really don’t know.” Puck answered truthfully. “Kurt’s a good guy. And he puts up with a lot of shit and I never saw it bother him. And if you tell anyone this I’ll deny it but, I’ve always admired him a bit for it. I figured if some small fry like Kurt could brush shit off and come out a stronger person, maybe I can too.” He shrugged, uncomfortable with the conversation. “And fuck. No one deserves to have that shit done to their mom’s grave. It makes me sick.”

Mercedes nodded and sniffled. “My boy doesn’t deserve any of the crap he’s put through. He is tough, but he’s not unbreakable. None of us are.”

They slipped back into silence as they pulled into the parking lot at school and saw that the entire Glee club had already arrived. Even Mr. Schuester was there.

“What’s Mr. S doing here?” Mercedes wondered out loud as they approached their friends.

“So who are we killing via assorted cleaning products?” Artie asked once Puck and Mercedes reached the group.

“No one.” Puck said gruffly. “Yet.”

“What’s going on here guys?” Mr. Schue asked. “I was here late correcting some tests so I was surprise to find everyone still here.”

“Some fucker messed with Kurt’s mom’s grave.” Puck replied holding out his phone to the Glee teacher.

Mr. Schue took the device and sighed sadly. “I thought this sort of thing would stop.” He said as he passed the phone to Rachel, who was already crying.

“We’re gonna go down to the cemetery and clean it. Kurt doesn’t want his dad to see the damage and there is no way in hell we’re letting Kurt do it himself.” Mercedes explained and the picture was passed around.

“W-where’s Kurt?” Tina asked as she handed the phone to Mike who paled at the sight of the grave.

“We took him home.” Puck said. “I told him to call if he needed anything.”

“I’m gonna castrate whoever did this.” Santana seethed as she thrust the phone back at Puck.

Finn nodded. “We’re with you, dude. No one messes with anyone in this club.”

“My other gay dad is a lawyer!” Rachel piped up, eyes red. “We can have them charged.”

“Or we can just take Santana’s route and rip off their genitals.” Artie said. “Sorry, Mr. Schue.” He added, forgetting that the teacher was there.

“Let’s go clean Mrs. Hummel’s resting place first.” Quinn said softly.

“Right.” Puck said. “Load into your cars and lets get going.”

It took the club the better part of two hours to get rid of the grotesque images and writing on the gravestone. The cemetery keeper had already taken pictures for a police report and gave them a watery smile when Mr. Schue had explained what they were doing there.

It was hard to see the damage first hand. The ugly words mocked them as they scrubbed with all their might. Rachel, who was always emotional randomly burst into tears a few times and even Finn was wiping his eyes.

“Just picturing how I would feel if this was done to my dad’s grave.” He explained when Brittany asked.

The grass was trampled and ripped at, leaving brown patches that they weren’t sure how to fix until Matt and Brittany disappeared and came back with a multitude of flower arrangements.

“My mom owns a flower shop down the street.” Matt told them. “I filled her in and she gave us these for free.”

“I always bring flowers to my grandmother’s grave.” Brittany chirped. “And I know Kurt and his dad do the same for Mrs. Hummel.”

After arranging the flowers around the grave everyone stood back to admire their work.

“I’m really proud of you guys.” Mr. Schue said resting a hand on Puck’s shoulder. “This is what we’re all about. Helping and being there for each other.”

Puck pulled out his phone, got rid of the offensive pictures and took a bunch of the newly restored grave. “I’m gonna go show these to Kurt. I told him I’d go back and hang out for a bit.”

He was surprised when no one questioned why he of all people was going to keep Kurt company. They all said to send Kurt their love and well wishes.

“Don’t forget to tell him about castrating the bastards!” Artie called after him as he left his fellow Glee clubbers behind.

“Isn’t castrating what boys do alone in the dark?” he heard Brittany ask.

“No.” Santana said exasperated. “That’s masturbating.”

He snorted and jogged the quick walk to Kurt’s place.

Puck had left the front door unlocked and he quietly snuck in and made his way silently to Kurt’s bedroom.

The gleek was still fast asleep, wrapped tightly in his mother’s afghan, so Puck sat gently on the edge of the bed again and regretfully woke the other boy up.

“Kurt?” He asked softly. “Hey, Kurt.” The soprano merely grunted and pulled the blanket over his head. Puck chuckled. “Come on sleeping beauty. I wanna show you something.” He said shaking Kurt’s shoulder.

The boy groaned. “What?” He grumbled.

Puck laughed this time and pulled the covers down to reveal Kurt’s sleep creased face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Kurt replied fully awake now. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”

“The Puckster always keeps his promises.” Puck replied smugly.

“God. Only you would refer to yourself in the third person.” Kurt said with a small smile as Puck flipped his phone open and brought up the new pictures. “Here.” He said handing the phone to Kurt who was propping himself up on his head board.

“I called everyone from Glee club.” Puck said rubbing the back of his neck as Kurt silently stared at the image.

“I…I can’t believe you all did this.” Kurt said in an awed voice.

“I told you I wasn’t going to let you do it.” Puck said firmly. “I meant that. And Rachel was going on about pressing charges cause one of her dads is a lawyer. Artie just wants to rip their junk off.”

Kurt laughed through the fresh tears that had fallen from his eyes. “I can’t thank you enough.” He said. “I…I can’t even tell you how much this means to me.”

Puck shrugged. “I figure we’re friends now. Like Mr. Schue said, we’re all each other has when we‘re part of this club. Being in Glee taught me that you stick with your own. And destroy anyone who messes with it.”

In a quick sudden movement Kurt had wrapped his arms around Puck’s waist and the jock found himself with a lap full of Kurt who was mumbling his thanks over and over again into Puck’s shirt.

And fuck if it didn’t feel right to hold Kurt. Puck thought. Again it was really damn gay think something like that but Puck figured that as long as Kurt was the only one who made him think fairy thoughts then that was okay.

Puck secured his arms around Kurt and pulled him closer. Tomorrow they’d figure out what asshole had deface the grave. Tomorrow they’d figure out what to tell Mr. Hummel. Tomorrow they’d face the world. But right now Puck was pretty cool with Kurt burrowing deeper into his chest.

Sure it was totally gay. But is was gay in a completely bad ass kind of way. And fuck anyone who said different, Puck thought sleepily as he pulled Kurt so that they were lying down together on the bed.

He could just get Artie to cut their pricks off anyway.