Fic: Proof and Circumstance
Title: Proof and Circumstance
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Puck, Kurt
Genre: Friendship
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Through 3x21 “Nationals”
Word Count: 1,905
Summary: Puck wasn’t the only one surprised to be here today. He found Kurt Hummel sitting out on the sidewalk, getting dirt on his bright red graduation gown.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Glee. Which is why I’m writing this instead of just making it happen for real.
Author’s Note: Sneaking this in real quick before tonight’s episode proves it can’t happen. Seriously unedited, and I apologize for the title.
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The graduation ceremony was exactly what Puck had expected it to be: lame.
It was kinda cool at the same time, though, because everyone was ridiculously happy and there was this feeling of being done that hung in the air like a sigh of relief after four whole years. No one was arguing right now (just laughing about how well the gowns coordinated with their Nationals outfits and remembering the last time Finn wore a red dress), even though he knew everyone had their own shit going on, and there were so many cameras around that he just knew he was gonna be tagged in about a hundred pictures on Facebook tomorrow despite the fact that he didn’t want any evidence he’d ever worn this bright red… thing.
The only evidence he needed was right here in his hand, this piece of paper that Figgins had handed over with a grudging smile after Puck walked across the stage. That right there? That was the proof he’d been waiting for. He finished something.
It was either that or the fact that he hadn’t been able to walk two feet without bumping into someone - or more, if it was someone he knows, since everyone was being all huggy today - that made him start to see grey. He pointed himself in the direction of the door, anyway, because whatever it was he thought he probably needed some fresh air to fix it. It was brighter outside, so that at least would chase away some of the grey.
He felt kind of dizzy, too, and he didn’t really get that his breathing had gone a little weird until he was though the door and out in the open, because then he could breathe again. It was easy, which made him remember that it hadn’t been when he was inside. Yeah, so he’d just take a little break before he went back in.
Puck’s hand closed tight around the paper in his hand with the second deep breath, and he had to make himself unclench a moment later because shit, if he did that then he was gonna ruin the thing ten minutes after he’d gotten it. It was in a tight roll that looked seriously old-fashioned, and he knew that they didn’t always do it that way anymore because he’d seenn his cousin’s diplomas at graduation parties/family reunions he’d been forced to go to and they usually had some little frame or folder or something. They looked nice.
A piece of string to tie it off was probably way cheaper, though, so he wasn’t surprised that Figgins had gone for this option.
The problem was that it was way easier to mess it up when it wasn’t held steady by anything, so he would have to be careful with it until he could get it home, because he was so not losing this thing. It was his proof. It was his really lame, really cheesy proof that he wasn’t giving up for anything.
“Hey,” said a voice off to his left, and he should’ve guessed he wasn’t the only one who needed some air, but it sort of defeated the purpose of being alone. He turned to find Kurt looking at him from his seat on the edge of the sidewalk, his hat (Puck knew there was a special name for those stupid hats, but he couldn’t remember it) abandoned on the ground beside him.
Puck raised an eyebrow, staring at Kurt because he would not have guessed he’d find him here, especially not sitting on the ground. “Dude, are you okay? You’re getting your clothes all dirty and stuff.”
Kurt laughed softly, and it sounded harsh at the edges, just a little. Puck decided not to call him out on it. “I’m fine, thanks; just needed some space for a second. And I’m never going to wear this thing again and it kind of deserves to be burned anyway, so.”
That sort of made sense, but it also gave Puck the feeling that maybe he should go and find his own space, because they both needed air and Kurt got here first, and it wasn’t like there was anyone else around the whole back of the school, so he could find somewhere else. Even as he thought that, looking around for a direction to start in, Kurt glanced up at him expectantly.
“Aren’t you going to sit down? If I’m not worried about the dirt, I can’t imagine you would be.”
Puck sat on the sidewalk, a careful three feet away. He placed his diploma gently down beside him, and no one spoke for a few minutes, which gave him time to do all the breathing he’d come out here for in the first place.
Finally, he started feeling steady again, so he looked over at Kurt and said, “This is freaking crazy.”
“It is,” Kurt agreed. His fingers were pulling absently at a little tuft of grass poking through the sidewalk cracks, and Puck had to jerk his gaze back up to Kurt’s face when he realized how much it had wandered. “It’s not like they’re telling us anything we didn’t already know, but the ceremony feels, I don’t know, final.”
“Well, it’s supposed to.”
“Right. Still…” Kurt stopped picking at the grass to wave a hand through the air like he was trying to gather something, but he didn’t seem to find it and his mouth closed.
Puck waited a moment to be sure he was done before filling in the silence. “It’s kinda hard to believe, too.”
That’s all he’d meant to say, but he must’ve gotten infected with whatever was going around and making everyone all friendly and weepy today, because when Kurt looked at him like he was waiting for more, Puck gave it to him.
“I know it’s supposed to be one of those things everyone does, but I didn’t really think I’d ever do it, y’know? I almost didn’t. I’m only here ‘cause Beiste decided to back me up and got me a new test so I could pass. But I pretty much suck at school.”
“No you don’t,” Kurt said, but it sounded more automatic than something he actually believed.
“Na, I do, but it’s fine. There’s other stuff I’m good at.”
Tilting his head to the side, Kurt stared at the sky until he came up with something. “Math, though. You’re good at math. Actually, you’re really good at math, and it’s annoying. And that’s school.”
“Not all of school, though,” Puck reminded him, and Kurt rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Whatever. I just didn’t really know I was gonna get it done until about a week ago. So, it’s weird that I’m actually graduating today.”
“Ah.” Kurt took a deep breath and let it out; it wasn’t really a sigh, but it sounded like it wanted to be. “Yeah. I think I know what you mean.”
Puck just laughed, because that was totally crazy and it broke right through his serious mood, which he was definitely cool with. “The hell are you talking about, Kurt? No way were you ever not gonna graduate. I’ve seen the way you study.” But Kurt was shaking his head before Puck had even finished speaking.
“I didn’t mean that. I’m not- it’s not an academic thing. I just wasn’t sure I’d make it to this point.” Kurt shrugged. “I’m obviously gay in the middle of an extremely prejudiced town in Ohio. I didn’t always think I’d make it out.”
And there was the serious mood again, back with enough tension for the air to press down hard on his shoulders. “Oh.” Puck wasn’t very good with words even when it was an easy conversation. “But those’re just statistics, man. You got your dad and, y’know, us.”
“I know. But there were… things.”
“Right, well.” Puck cleared his throat, pushing the images that sprang up at the word ‘things’ all the way to the back of his mind. “You made it.”
“And so did you.” Kurt smiled at him. “Congratulations to us; we beat the odds.” He tilted his head to the side, considering. “Well, actually, we didn’t. The graduation rate isn’t that bad at this school. We conformed to the odds.”
“Na, you were right the first time. You totally beat the odds; you’re leaving.”
“What about you? I heard about your dad. I mean, what you gave him. Are you still going to LA?”
Puck’s fingers fiddled with the edge of the diploma. “I dunno. I gotta make some money before I go anywhere, but I’m not going to have enough to do it right for a while, I guess. I still want to get out, though.” He’d been planning to take off as soon as school was over. Now, he’d have to work through the summer, and even then… Well, Los Angeles wasn’t cheap.
“You know, Finn and Rachel and I are going to be sharing an apartment in the city. Maybe you should find yourself something like that. It’s easier with a roommate to share costs with.”
“No one else is going to California.”
Kurt hummed thoughtfully. “You could always go somewhere else.”
There was probably more to that, but Puck wasn’t working through anything tough right now. Today was about being done, about things he’d already finished and figured out.
“Come on, then,” Kurt said after a minute. He stood up and brushed himself off, then held out a hand. “Let’s go back inside. I want photographic proof that we both made it here, in case we forget later.”
Puck thought about arguing, since he’d spent most of today so far avoiding cameras as best he could, but he wound up just taking Kurt’s hand and letting himself be pulled upright without a word. Maybe the paper was all he needed to tell him he got through, but Kurt had a point. Photos would prove who he got through it with.
“Hey.” Kurt had already started walking toward the door, but he stopped and turned at Puck’s word. “You gotta put your hat on, man.”
“It’s called a mortarboard.” Oh, so that was the name. “And, no. I put far too much effort into my hair to ruin it by
putting something so undignified on my head.”
Yeah, Kurt might have had a point about the ‘undignified’ thing; it looked like a square of red cardboard stuck to the top of someone’s head. Still, if Puck was going to suffer through wearing the damn thing, he was going to take Kurt down with him. So he reached out and ruffled Kurt’s hair.
“Oh my God,” Kurt shrieked, twisting away a moment later, but his hair was already pointing in odd directions. “What is wrong with you?”
“There, you’re hair’s already messed up. Put on the hat.”
“Are you- hey!” Kurt scrambled away when Puck’s hand came closer again. “Fine. Fine.” He jammed the hat onto his head, scowling as he did it. “The hat is on. Happy?”
Puck smiled brightly. “Yep.” And he was, really; that was the thing. He was even pretty sure he could go back inside and keep seeing in color now. None of that grey crap he’d been getting earlier.
“Wonderful. My life’s work is complete.”
“Don’t get all bitter, Kurt. Smile for the camera.”
Good thing they weren’t in front of one just yet, though, because Kurt’s glare would’ve broken the lens.