Fic: Sweet Child O' Mine (5/10)
Media: Fic
Title: Sweet Child O’ Mine (5/10)
Author/Artist: likethedirection
Friendship/Pairings: Kurt+Puck, canon pairings as of 2x22
Spoilers: To be safe, we’ll say everything?
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Puck comes to Kurt for help, and Kurt figures it can’t hurt to do a friend a favor. Unfortunately, everything is more complicated when there’s a baby involved.
A/N: Thank you slayerkittyfor reccing this fic at the glee_bestiescommunity! I’ve never been rec’d before! \o/ I didn’t know if it was poor etiquette to freak out and gush my thanks on the post itself, so I didn’t, but rest assured my reaction to stumbling across it was something like this:
Enjoy Chapter 5. :)
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
~*~
By the end of the week, Kurt was certain beyond argument that he was a Terrible Person.
He was terrible for hurting Puck and single-handedly cutting him off from the little girl he loved with all his heart.
He was terrible for hurting Quinn, and Rachel, and Finn, and being too ashamed to admit it to them.
He was terrible for lying to his best friend. Even more terrible for lying to his unsuspecting boyfriend.
He was terrible for making it stupidly obvious to his family that he was miserable when he went inside after Shelby’s, and for the awful lie he made up about having had an argument with Blaine, and for how weakly he protested when his dad immediately took his side.
More than anything, he was terrible because when he’d been sitting alone on the couch after dinner that night, and Finn had dropped down next to him and just silently slung an arm around his shoulders, he had leaned right into that embrace and stayed there until the Food Network Star reruns ended, even though the real reason he was upset was something that would hurt Finn much more.
He was despicable.
So when his dad had asked if he’d be willing to give up one of his busy Saturdays and help out in the shop while Steve was on vacation, he had agreed, enthusiastically, because he might as well do something good for someone.
Which is why Saturday afternoon found him buried under the hood of a Toyota Celica in his coveralls, replacing an alternator in the engine and not even humming to himself. For the moment, he was absolutely okay with being invisible.
So when the heavy, hesitant footsteps came close and stopped off to the side, and he glimpsed only a well-worn pair of sneakers from his angle, he barely thought. “If you’re here for parts, you can talk to Mr. Hummel at the front desk,” he murmured automatically, pushing his voice a little lower the way he always found himself doing when he was working here, sharply focused on fixing the new alternator into place. “Otherwise, if you would wait in the reception area, someone will be with you as soon as--”
A wad of bills was flung in front of his face, landing on top of the oil filter. Kurt paused, startled, then wiped his hands on his coveralls and straightened up.
Puck stood at a few feet’s distance, hunched and sullen, his hands shoved in his pockets. Kurt breathed silently in and out, and waited.
“That’s what I’ve got left from pool cleaning and Sheets N’ Things,” Puck said at last. “I did the math. It’ll cover gas for all six trips, plus next time.”
Next time.
Well, then.
Kurt picked up the bills, looked back at Puck, and sighed. “I don’t need your money, Noah. I was just making a point.”
“No shit,” Puck growled, but seemed to catch himself, his gaze sliding to the floor. “Still.”
Kurt eyed him a bit longer, then turned away and called, “Dad, I’m taking fifteen.”
“Gotcha. Larry, finish up with that alternator on the Celica, will ya?”
Kurt nodded toward the back exit, and Puck followed him out to the employee parking lot. Once there, Kurt situated himself against the wall while Puck looked anywhere but at him and shifted from foot to foot.
He looked so uncomfortable that Kurt tamped down his pride. He clasped his hands behind his back and leveled his gaze. “I owe you an apology.”
Puck’s eyes snapped up and glinted with something like surprise before sliding away again.
“It wasn’t my place to assume anything about your relationship with Beth, or what your intentions were for the future with her. You were right, that wasn’t my call to make. So I’m sorry.”
Puck stayed quiet, his gaze fastened to the ground. “Whatever.”
“That said, I do think that you need to start thinking about it. Now, not later. We can bounce some ideas off of Shelby on Wednesday, see what your options are. But you need to have a plan.”
Relief flashed across Puck’s face at the word ’Wednesday’ before it closed up again. “Just leave it. I’ll figure something out.”
“No. Not about this. This is too important, Noah. If you still want me to be a part of it, then you know my terms.”
Puck rolled his eyes, but the tension in his shoulders was nearly gone. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll draw up a game plan.”
“And…”
“And I’ll talk to her, all right? Damn.”
Kurt nodded. “All right, then.”
Puck leaned on the dumpster by the door as the tension began to float away. “So you’re still fucked up, huh?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Wednesday. I barely touched you, and you like had a ‘Nam flashback.” His tone, still sullen, seemed caught somewhere between guilt and accusation. “I haven’t messed with you in ages. Thought we were cool.”
Kurt fought not to shrink back, and instead crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, well. We mostly are.”
“Dude, I’ve been like your fucking stealth bodyguard all year. What the hell’s a guy gotta do?”
“Nothing,” Kurt said, meeting his eyes because that was true and Puck needed to know it. “Other than curbing your more aggressive impulses, nothing. There are a lot of factors. You left me alone last year, but not everyone did.”
“Thought Karofsky was being cool now, though.” Puck’s face immediately darkened. “He’s being cool, right?”
“Yes, we’re fine. As we can be. That’s not…” Kurt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just because the actions have stopped, it doesn’t mean the effects have. Honestly, the fact that I’m still here talking to you while you’re standing in that particular spot? Progress.” Puck seemed to notice only then just what he was leaning on, and he frowned, pushing furtively away from the dumpster. “But clearly I still have some issues with being manhandled by guys who are bigger than me. It’s a thing. I’ll get over it. It just takes time.
“I meant what I said, though,” Kurt added when Puck didn’t say anything. “I may have been out of line, but so were you. If that happens again--”
“You’re out, I get it,” Puck said. “You’ve got your issues, I’ve got mine. I’m working on it.”
“I believe you are.”
The wind blew, and goosebumps dusted Kurt’s arms. The summer was already starting to fade. He studied Puck, for the life of him not able to get a read on him now. “What are you going to do?”
He scowled at the horizon. “Fuck if I know,” he muttered. “This wasn’t supposed to be like this. I just wanted to see her. Make sure she was okay, see if Shelby was legit. I thought once I saw her again, it wouldn’t feel like this anymore.”
Kurt gently prodded, “Feel like what?”
“Like I’ll only be okay if I know she is. And so what if Shelby’s nice, and they’ve got a good house, or whatever. That’s not knowing. That doesn’t mean shit. The only way I know she’s okay is if I’m there to make it all okay.” The passion was coming back into his face, into his voice. “I know that I’d jump between her and a psycho with an uzi in two seconds, because she’s mine. Because she’s the only really good thing about me, and if she’s gone, I’m gone. If I’m not there, how the hell do I know if she’s with someone who would do that for her? Who’ll love her enough?” His voice went a little strange toward the end, and he took a moment to slow his breath, and there was fierce love in his face, enough that the backs of Kurt’s eyes began to consider heating up. “I used to think about her every day, but now I think about her all the time. Every second. It’s…it’s fucked-up.”
“No, it isn’t,” Kurt said.
Puck swallowed hard and seemed to try reining it back in. “But you’re coming next Wednesday, right?”
Kurt nodded. “Of course, Noah.”
Puck sniffed hard and jutted his chin in that strange guy-nod that Kurt had never mastered, and he was struck by the similarities to when David had done the same thing, standing outside his French class in his Bully-Whips uniform. “Cool.” Huh. He’d said that, too.
Puck held out a fist, and Kurt humored him and bumped it. Then, before Puck could pull his arm back, Kurt took him by the wrist and pressed the money back into his hand. “If you’re going to use it for anyone, use it for her.”
It took a second of Puck looking between his face and their hands for it to occur to Kurt that his gesture might be misinterpreted, and he cleared his throat as he pulled his hands away. Puck’s expression didn’t change, though, and he gave a mute nod.
From inside, Kurt’s dad called, “Five minutes, kiddo.”
“Coming,” Kurt called back, then glanced back at Puck with a twitch of the eyebrows. “Duty calls.”
“Pretty sweet gig you got here.”
Kurt shrugged. “It is what it is. I’ve been helping out here since I was eight. It started out as a good mutual distraction and bonding activity, and now it’s shopping money and more car knowledge than anyone expects a seventeen-year-old gay to have. Also, my own personal ‘Pimp My Ride.’”
Puck studied him, his expression unreadable again. “You actually know your shit, don’t you?”
Kurt lifted an eyebrow. “Who do you think overhauled the engine after you crashed that Volvo?”
Puck’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Bullshit.”
“Oh, don’t make me break out the auto-shop jargon. We’ll be here all afternoon.”
“I got no place to be.”
Kurt sighed. “Well, I’m actually getting paid for this, so I will not be staying out here to regale you. However, if you really need that much convincing, you’re welcome to come back in and hand me things when I point to them.” He dropped his voice low and conspiratorial. “I might even let you touch a carburetor.”
“Fuck you, dude.” But Puck was grinning, if a bit grudgingly. “What the hell. I’ll take it over chaperoning my sister at her fucking Disney Princess marathon at the Cohens’ place. Only so much of that a guy can take.”
Kurt’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh.” He blinked a few times, actually considered it. Talking cars with Puckerman. Talking to Puckerman outside the safe zones of Shelby’s house, his car, or a text message.
Huh.
Puck seemed to be going through a similar thought process when Kurt’s mind came back, but he didn’t take back the offer, instead just looking back at Kurt with an appraising eye.
Finally, Kurt stepped aside and pulled open the door. “Well, then. After you.”
-
“So. That was the Puckerman kid, right?”
“Mm-hm. No, no--give me that.”
“The heart attack was almost a year ago, kid. Think I can carry my own equipment.”
“Eight months, two weeks, and five days. Besides, I’m young and able-bodied, it builds character, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Fine, fine. So, the Puckerman kid. He bothering you again?”
“If by ‘bothering,’ you mean attacking me with grease-hands just because I may have mentioned that I’m not quite as averse to getting messy if I’m in coveralls, then yes. Yes, he was.”
“I don’t know about all that, but guess I’m just a little confused. This is one of the guys that used to give you trouble, right?”
“He is.”
“Same guy who was hanging around the shop with you all afternoon. Chasing you around with engine grease until you started snapping him with the oil rag.”
“Correct. But that was only for a minute. You and I both know that I am first and foremost a professional.”
“I know you are. This isn’t about that.”
“And what this is about would be…?”
“…You’re gonna tell me it’s none of my business, but it’s kinda my job to ask this stuff. So. That fight you had with Blaine the other day. It have anything to do with that guy?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know, when I was about your age, I was seeing this girl from my econ class, and then I went off to football camp for the summer. I got back, I found out she’d been spending a whole lot of time with another guy while I was gone, said she got lonely. And I got to admit, I didn’t take that too well.”
“…You just made me the girl.”
“Hey, don’t get touchy on me, it’s just an example. I just thought you should keep in mind that if you’re spending a lot of time with this Puckerman boy--”
“Wait. You think--oh. Oh. Oh, my God.”
“You about to laugh, or throw up? ‘Cause I can grab you a trash can.”
“Possibly both. Oh my God. Dad. Really?”
“So, that’s a no, then.”
“I’ll be the first to admit that Puckerman has excellent bone structure and, let’s face it, the body of a bronze god, but I daresay that’s a God no. Mutually.”
“All right, all right. It’s just not too often I see you hanging around with any of Finn’s buddies one-on-one.”
“…They’re my friends, too, Dad.”
“I know that. And I’m glad. But you know what I mean, kiddo.”
“Yeah. I know.”
-
A few weeks ago, Kurt had thought that Beth could not possibly be more adorable than when she performed her bobbing, laughing baby-dance to Puck’s strumming on the guitar.
Then he’d seen the part where she greeted Puck at the door and tried to climb him like a tree, and he had reevaluated his assessment.
But now…now they were in a park, and she was in a little pink sundress with a little white hat with a flower, and she was playing with a duck.
Just…being that cute should not be legal.
Kurt kept a hand over his mouth and did his damnedest to keep from laughing as he sat next to Shelby on the park bench and watched Beth timidly approach one of the ridiculously tame ducks by the pond, throw a piece of bread to it like Puck had shown her, then squeak and laugh and run back behind Puck when the duck started to waddle with interest in her direction.
He wasn’t quite close enough to hear, but Puck asked her something about ducks while she clutched at his pant leg and the back of his shirt.
Then he quacked. Loudly.
Beth burst into a delighted laugh (and Kurt maybe lost it for half a second, there, too), and Puck chuckled and kissed her on top of her hat, fixing it when it dropped a little over her eyes. Emboldened, she ventured out from behind him with another bit of bread.
It was a little risky, doing this out in public, and he and Puck had immediately exchanged tight glances when Shelby had suggested it. But no one knew them this side of town; Jesse St. James was long gone after the debacle that was Nationals, and if anyone else from Vocal Adrenaline happened by, they weren’t likely to recognize them or care. Puck knew the area from being dragged to the Lima Jewish Community Center nearby when he was younger, and more importantly, it would have been far too suspicious for them to say no.
“So, Kurt,” Shelby said, startling him out of watching, “it looks like you and Noah worked out whatever was going on last week?”
Ah. This conversation.
Kurt cleared his throat, sort of wishing he’d gone with Puck and Beth to look at the ducks. “Oh, yes. Just a small miscommunication, nothing to worry about.”
When he glanced up, she was looking at him very intently, enough that he almost drew back. She was subdued today, a little distracted, so the sudden laser focus was a little jarring. Seeming to choose her words one by one, she said, “I never asked. How was it that you got involved in these visits? Were they your idea?”
“Oh, no,” he quickly assured her. “Entirely Noah’s idea. This is all on his initiative.” He added a rather proud smile, because he really was rather proud of him for it. “I got involved because he didn’t have his own transportation for this, and he asked for help. I suppose I was the most appropriate candidate for it.”
“So he didn’t…force you to do this. He didn’t threaten you in any way?”
Uh-oh. “Not at all,” Kurt said, his smile dropping into a frown. “I did require him to state his case before giving a yea or nay, but this is all entirely consensual. What made you think otherwise?”
Shelby eyed Puck and Beth, then the ground. “He got pretty rough with you last week.”
Kurt bit his lip, not liking where this was going at all.
“And you looked pretty terrified. You’re a smart kid, and I don’t doubt that you can take care of yourself, but he’s a lot bigger than you are. I just wanted to make sure that kind of thing hasn’t been happening every time I’ve closed the door.”
“No,” Kurt said immediately, glancing at Puck and Beth again before he could help it. This time, when she ran away from the duck, she stopped in front of Puck instead of behind, then stretched her arms up. He lifted her into his arms and stood without missing a beat, taking her on the bridge to look at the fish.
Then Kurt remembered Shelby was waiting on him, and he met her eyes, saying evenly and clearly, “That was the only time. I’m here because I want to be.” He swallowed. “If I looked afraid for a second, it’s just because I’ve been bullied before, and getting pushed around brought a few of those knee-jerk reactions back to the surface. That’s all.”
Quietly, even gently, Shelby said, “Was he one of those bullies?”
Kurt inhaled, exhaled, and tried to think how on earth to answer that.
“…It is true that Noah and I have some…history, which has taken some time to work through,” he said slowly, because he could not would not paint a picture of Puckzilla for this woman, who was all the difference between Daddy smiling and pointing out catfish to his little girl, and Noah scowling on the bridge alone, without her. “It has been a journey, yes. But, and I truly believe this, no one in our glee club has come farther than Noah has. I think that especially in this last year, he has grown up more than anyone. And being here with Beth--he is the best version of himself when he’s with her. Honestly, I’m…really proud to be a part of that.”
Shelby regarded him for a while, and then the corner of her mouth curved up a little. “You’re a sweet kid, Kurt, you know that?”
“I can think of some choice individuals at McKinley who would beg to differ,” Kurt said, smirking a bit to hide his nerves, “but thank you.”
Puck reappeared next to the bench, and the subject was dropped. “She’s calling for Mama,” he said, his voice straining as he lifted Beth over to her.
Shelby took Beth, felt her diaper, and shook her head. “I see what I’m good for. Daddy gets the ducks, and Mama gets the diapers, huh?” she said, tapping Beth on the nose and making her wrinkle it and giggle. She adjusted Beth in her arms and stood, heading for the restrooms at the opposite corner of the park. “We’ll be back.”
Puck dropped down in her place, letting out his breath and looking more relaxed than he’d looked all week. “So. You keeping an eye on your ride?”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Not at all. In fact, I thought I’d leave the windows down and the key in the ignition, just for fun.”
“Dude, not funny,” Puck said, frowning at him. “I’ve got quality beverages stashed in there. Rachel told me straight-up she’s not letting me crack her dads’ liquor cabinet this time around, so I’m taking one for the team. You’re freakin’ welcome.”
“Once again, I refuse to acknowledge anything more than that there are two grocery bags of party supplies in my trunk. I don’t want to know what kind of supplies, where you got them, or how you intend for us to use them. This will remain the case until after tonight, when those two bags are no longer in my possession.”
“Nine tenths of the law, amigo.”
“I’m going to decide you didn’t just call me ‘amigo.’ It sounds far too similar to ‘amico,’ which I can only associate with the mafia since Finn held me hostage to watch The Godfather. I have enough anxiety about my current potentially law-breaking situation without bringing in cosa nostra, thank you very much.”
“Come on, The Godfather’s boss. And quit your bitching. You’re killing my buzz, dude.”
Kurt froze. “Noah, I need you to tell me right now that you were not just holding your infant daughter over the side of a bridge while inebriated.”
That earned him a sharp punch in the arm. “Dude!”
“Well!”
“Not cool!” Puck clicked his tongue, and Kurt wondered if there was something wrong with him if it actually made him feel a little ashamed. “I mean I’m in a good mood. Damn.”
Kurt shot him a skeptical frown, rubbing his arm where it was starting to ache. “Tell your good mood thanks for that.”
Puck rolled his eyes. “Man up, Hummel. This is totally me in a good mood. Tonight’s when I finally get my lady back.”
“Lauren’s back in town, huh?”
“Aww yeah. This party’s gonna be off the chain. And you’ve gotta actually be fun this time,” he said, bumping Kurt’s elbow with his. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at your boy all sober and shit last time around. What was up with that?”
“We weren’t dating yet. I didn’t want to put myself in any unattractive situations in his presence.”
“Yeah, ‘cause he gave a real shit about that one.”
“Danger…”
“Seriously. He’s not even here. Who the hell you trying to impress? Most of us have never even seen you with your hair screwed up. Live a little.”
“You make a compelling argument,” Kurt deadpanned, rolling his eyes.
“That a challenge, Hummel?”
“What do you--oh no,” he snapped, throwing a hand up to block Puck’s hand from reaching to muss his hair. “Don’t you dare!”
“You gonna let loose at Rachel’s tonight?”
“I make no promises--” he yelped again when Puck shot his other hand around, nearly swiping the top of his head before Kurt caught his wrist. “I will dye your mohawk rainbow in your sleep!”
“You do that, I’m getting Lauren to give you a straight-up Shirley Temple perm.”
Kurt gasped. “No.”
“Yep. Or you could get crunk and save yourself the grief. Take your pick.” He swiped again with a wicked smirk, and Kurt ducked, catching that wrist, too.
“Gah--peer pressure!” Kurt strained as he tried to wrestle Puck’s hands away from his head, laughing just like he had at the garage when he was battling Puck with an oil rag, and holy crap.
They were friends.
Like…actual friends. Not kind-of friends, or confined-to-a-certain-setting friends. They were…wow.
“Are we going to have to separate you two?”
Kurt looked up at Shelby’s voice, and Puck seized the opening to give his hair a good, hard ruffle that made his jaw drop and his voice sort of squeak. “Oh my God!” He shoved hard at Puck’s arm, nearly knocking him straight off the bench (which just made Puck’s laugh go sort of high-pitched without stopping), and set about smoothing out his hair by touch, huffing. “To answer your question…possibly. For Noah’s safety,” he said pointedly, trying and failing to wipe the smirk off Puck’s face with a hissed, “I’m getting you.”
Shelby smiled, a little tightly. “‘Possibly’ is good enough. Noah, can I talk to you a minute?”
Puck’s eyebrows lowered as Kurt’s lifted, reminding Kurt of the expression he’d gotten when Shelby had given them permission to take pictures. Just as quickly, the look was gone. “Yeah.” He glanced at Kurt. “You’re good with her, right?”
Kurt nodded, reaching for Beth when Shelby held her out to him, then setting her in his lap, where she stared back at him. “Well, hello there.”
Grinning a bit, Puck leaned down by Beth and said, “Hey, wanna show Uncle Kurt what sound a duck makes?”
Something swelled in Kurt’s chest, and he pursed his lips to keep them from spreading into a stupidly huge smile. Uncle Kurt.
Beth was many things, but not shy. With a little wave of her arms, she proudly announced, “Cuk, cuk!”
Kurt laughed, and Puck straightened out her hat again. “We’re working on it.”
“I think that’s an excellent duck-sound. Très approprié!” Kurt said, directing it to Beth, and he actually earned a smile. Shelby looked satisfied, and he stood, hefting Beth into his arms. “We’ll just take a walk, then.”
He glanced back once as he started along the park path at a leisurely stroll, watching Shelby sit down next to Puck. He could only hope it was nothing bad. If it was bad, then he could only hope he hadn’t somehow been the cause of it. If it was bad and it was his fault, that would just…he wasn’t going to think about that.
Then Beth popped a few fingers into her mouth and leaned her head sleepily on his shoulder, and he gently patted her side, his worries evaporating for a moment.
Uncle Kurt. Hee.
He walked with her in silence for a little while before she pulled her fingers from her mouth, made a noise, and pointed off to his right, at a patch of flowers. He slowed to let her look. “What’s that?” he asked.
“That,” Beth repeated in a tiny voice.
“That is a very astute observation,” Kurt said, smiling. “Bravá.”
A moment, and she lost interest, this time pointing at a tree.
Kurt glanced back toward the bench once more while he humored her with the ‘What’s that?’ game, but Shelby was still talking to Puck, and now he was on the other side of the park and couldn’t make out their expressions.
“That!” Beth insisted, pulling him back to the game. “That!”
He smiled and followed her pointing finger with his eyes. Then his smile dropped.
She was pointing at another tree. Behind which Kurt could just make out a very familiar red-brown afro.
No.
He sucked in his breath, alarms going off between his ears. “What’s that, indeed,” he murmured. Without a second’s hesitation, he pulled out his phone and held it low, typing a warning to Puck with one thumb.
>>You: JBI, 1:00
Then he took a deep breath, held Beth tight to him, and crept around the other side of the tree.
He wasn’t sure whether it was a testament to his own stealth or an insult to Jacob Ben Israel’s powers of observation that he was able to get so close before being noticed. Feeling a bit like a negotiator in a police drama, he cleared his throat.
Jacob spun around on his heel and, at the sight of Kurt, gave a rather pathetic-sounding squeak. Then, as if to make up for it, he shoved his stupid camera in Kurt’s face. “Kurt Hummel, i-is it true that Noah Puckerman has been experimenting with male fertility drugs in an effort to spawn an elite army of mohawked--hey!” he yelped when Kurt shoved his palm against the lens of the camera and gripped it tight, pulling it to the side.
“Jacob,” he said slowly, hoping it sounded as dangerous as he felt, “give me the camera.”
“Newsflash,” Jacob said in his ever-quavering voice, “you’re not a Cheerio anymore, so, so I don’t have to listen to you.” An irritatingly self-satisfied crossed his face. “Besides, this is just bonus footage. I’ve already sent the story about you and Puckerman and your little bundle of joy to my contact. He’s posting it on my blog as breaking news as we speak.”
“Story?” Kurt repeated, sharply enough that Jacob flinched, and this was bad.
“Noah Puckerman has been tormenting me since third grade,” Jacob said, and Kurt couldn’t tell if his tone was bitter or just proud. “I relish this opportunity to libel him into the ground once and for all.”
This was really, really bad.
“Jacob,” Kurt began again, his heart pounding, “withdraw the story. I am asking you as a classmate who has been harassed just as much as you have, and has never given you any trouble. Normally I wouldn’t care what you do, but this is meddling with Noah’s personal business. With his family.” He held Beth tight with one arm, the other hand still tight over the camera lens. “Don’t do this.”
“Sorry, Kurt,” Jacob said, and strangely enough he actually did sound a little sorry, “but I’ve been waiting to carry out this vendetta since age nine. The people need to know. I’m not responsible for collateral damage.” He squirmed under Kurt’s glare and made a weak attempt to change the subject. “It’s a cute kid. Does it have a--”
“Don’t look at her,” Kurt snapped, automatically angling Beth away from him. “Jacob, please. What…” he closed his eyes, really, really not wanting to ask this but feeling desperate, “…what do you want?”
“I’ll tell you what he wants.”
Jacob squeaked and cowered when Puck’s hand slammed into the tree next to his head, blocking him in. Glancing at his face, Kurt almost backed up himself; he looked murderous.
“He wants to drop the camera and make with the disappearing act before I rearrange his fucking face,” Puck spat, and Beth whimpered, clutching Kurt’s sweater tight.
“Puck,” Kurt snapped, finally letting go of the camera to push back against Puck’s shoulder, his eyes sweeping the park for Shelby. “Not here.”
“It’s too late,” Jacob said, looking equal parts terrified and exhilarated. “It’s already all over the blogosphere by now. By the time school starts again, your reputation will be so destroyed that all the Quinn Fabrays in the state couldn’t boost you back up the food chain.” Puck glowered, his breath growing heavy, and something was wrong, something was in his face that hadn’t been there before.
Keeping his hand pressed to Puck’s shoulder--though whether it was to reassure him or to hold him back, he wasn’t entirely sure--he jumped back in, “What are you even doing here? How long have you been following us?”
Jacob’s eyes snapped to him, glittering with interest in a way that made his skin crawl. “It’s a short walk from the Jewish Community Center, and that depends. How long have you been carrying out this illicit affai--” He yelped when Puck grabbed at his camera (which he had been not-so-subtly attempting to lift up again), and quickly clutched it out of the way. Kurt actually pushed Puck back this time, looking him hard in the eye and hissing his name again.
The second Puck moved, Jacob ducked out from under his arm and bolted, throwing a slightly hysterical, “You’ll never take me alive!” over his shoulder.
“No,” Kurt said when Puck moved to chase after him. “He said it’s already online. That means we have a limited amount of time to clear the air before people start to see it,” he reminded him, trying very hard to break through this new wall Puck seemed to have put up around himself. “Where’s Shelby?”
“Got a call,” Puck muttered, his shoulders hunched and far too tense. His eyes fell on Beth, and Kurt held her out to him. Puck brought her close the second he had her in his arms, pressing his face into her hat and moodily following Jacob with his eyes.
He looked so on edge that Kurt pushed the Jacob situation aside. “What did she say to you?”
Puck shook his head, lowering his eyes with a tight, tight jaw. “I’ll find her. You go bring your ride around,” he said, his voice still low. “Everyone’ll already be at Rachel’s. Just get us there. I’ll think us up an alibi.”
“Okay,” Kurt said uncertainly, but dug out his keys while Puck took Beth back toward the bench.
Something was wrong. And Kurt had a sinking feeling that this was only the start.
~*~
A/N2: So my original intention was for this to be 10 chapters. That’s still the goal. But now that Kurt and Puck have decided they want to have entire conversations I did not plan for them, I should probably suggest that it might end up slightly longer than that. If that becomes a certainty, that ‘10’ in the chapter numbers will be turned into a question mark. /planning fail
Title: Sweet Child O’ Mine (5/10)
Author/Artist: likethedirection
Friendship/Pairings: Kurt+Puck, canon pairings as of 2x22
Spoilers: To be safe, we’ll say everything?
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Puck comes to Kurt for help, and Kurt figures it can’t hurt to do a friend a favor. Unfortunately, everything is more complicated when there’s a baby involved.
A/N: Thank you slayerkittyfor reccing this fic at the glee_bestiescommunity! I’ve never been rec’d before! \o/ I didn’t know if it was poor etiquette to freak out and gush my thanks on the post itself, so I didn’t, but rest assured my reaction to stumbling across it was something like this:
Enjoy Chapter 5. :)
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
~*~
By the end of the week, Kurt was certain beyond argument that he was a Terrible Person.
He was terrible for hurting Puck and single-handedly cutting him off from the little girl he loved with all his heart.
He was terrible for hurting Quinn, and Rachel, and Finn, and being too ashamed to admit it to them.
He was terrible for lying to his best friend. Even more terrible for lying to his unsuspecting boyfriend.
He was terrible for making it stupidly obvious to his family that he was miserable when he went inside after Shelby’s, and for the awful lie he made up about having had an argument with Blaine, and for how weakly he protested when his dad immediately took his side.
More than anything, he was terrible because when he’d been sitting alone on the couch after dinner that night, and Finn had dropped down next to him and just silently slung an arm around his shoulders, he had leaned right into that embrace and stayed there until the Food Network Star reruns ended, even though the real reason he was upset was something that would hurt Finn much more.
He was despicable.
So when his dad had asked if he’d be willing to give up one of his busy Saturdays and help out in the shop while Steve was on vacation, he had agreed, enthusiastically, because he might as well do something good for someone.
Which is why Saturday afternoon found him buried under the hood of a Toyota Celica in his coveralls, replacing an alternator in the engine and not even humming to himself. For the moment, he was absolutely okay with being invisible.
So when the heavy, hesitant footsteps came close and stopped off to the side, and he glimpsed only a well-worn pair of sneakers from his angle, he barely thought. “If you’re here for parts, you can talk to Mr. Hummel at the front desk,” he murmured automatically, pushing his voice a little lower the way he always found himself doing when he was working here, sharply focused on fixing the new alternator into place. “Otherwise, if you would wait in the reception area, someone will be with you as soon as--”
A wad of bills was flung in front of his face, landing on top of the oil filter. Kurt paused, startled, then wiped his hands on his coveralls and straightened up.
Puck stood at a few feet’s distance, hunched and sullen, his hands shoved in his pockets. Kurt breathed silently in and out, and waited.
“That’s what I’ve got left from pool cleaning and Sheets N’ Things,” Puck said at last. “I did the math. It’ll cover gas for all six trips, plus next time.”
Next time.
Well, then.
Kurt picked up the bills, looked back at Puck, and sighed. “I don’t need your money, Noah. I was just making a point.”
“No shit,” Puck growled, but seemed to catch himself, his gaze sliding to the floor. “Still.”
Kurt eyed him a bit longer, then turned away and called, “Dad, I’m taking fifteen.”
“Gotcha. Larry, finish up with that alternator on the Celica, will ya?”
Kurt nodded toward the back exit, and Puck followed him out to the employee parking lot. Once there, Kurt situated himself against the wall while Puck looked anywhere but at him and shifted from foot to foot.
He looked so uncomfortable that Kurt tamped down his pride. He clasped his hands behind his back and leveled his gaze. “I owe you an apology.”
Puck’s eyes snapped up and glinted with something like surprise before sliding away again.
“It wasn’t my place to assume anything about your relationship with Beth, or what your intentions were for the future with her. You were right, that wasn’t my call to make. So I’m sorry.”
Puck stayed quiet, his gaze fastened to the ground. “Whatever.”
“That said, I do think that you need to start thinking about it. Now, not later. We can bounce some ideas off of Shelby on Wednesday, see what your options are. But you need to have a plan.”
Relief flashed across Puck’s face at the word ’Wednesday’ before it closed up again. “Just leave it. I’ll figure something out.”
“No. Not about this. This is too important, Noah. If you still want me to be a part of it, then you know my terms.”
Puck rolled his eyes, but the tension in his shoulders was nearly gone. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll draw up a game plan.”
“And…”
“And I’ll talk to her, all right? Damn.”
Kurt nodded. “All right, then.”
Puck leaned on the dumpster by the door as the tension began to float away. “So you’re still fucked up, huh?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Wednesday. I barely touched you, and you like had a ‘Nam flashback.” His tone, still sullen, seemed caught somewhere between guilt and accusation. “I haven’t messed with you in ages. Thought we were cool.”
Kurt fought not to shrink back, and instead crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, well. We mostly are.”
“Dude, I’ve been like your fucking stealth bodyguard all year. What the hell’s a guy gotta do?”
“Nothing,” Kurt said, meeting his eyes because that was true and Puck needed to know it. “Other than curbing your more aggressive impulses, nothing. There are a lot of factors. You left me alone last year, but not everyone did.”
“Thought Karofsky was being cool now, though.” Puck’s face immediately darkened. “He’s being cool, right?”
“Yes, we’re fine. As we can be. That’s not…” Kurt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just because the actions have stopped, it doesn’t mean the effects have. Honestly, the fact that I’m still here talking to you while you’re standing in that particular spot? Progress.” Puck seemed to notice only then just what he was leaning on, and he frowned, pushing furtively away from the dumpster. “But clearly I still have some issues with being manhandled by guys who are bigger than me. It’s a thing. I’ll get over it. It just takes time.
“I meant what I said, though,” Kurt added when Puck didn’t say anything. “I may have been out of line, but so were you. If that happens again--”
“You’re out, I get it,” Puck said. “You’ve got your issues, I’ve got mine. I’m working on it.”
“I believe you are.”
The wind blew, and goosebumps dusted Kurt’s arms. The summer was already starting to fade. He studied Puck, for the life of him not able to get a read on him now. “What are you going to do?”
He scowled at the horizon. “Fuck if I know,” he muttered. “This wasn’t supposed to be like this. I just wanted to see her. Make sure she was okay, see if Shelby was legit. I thought once I saw her again, it wouldn’t feel like this anymore.”
Kurt gently prodded, “Feel like what?”
“Like I’ll only be okay if I know she is. And so what if Shelby’s nice, and they’ve got a good house, or whatever. That’s not knowing. That doesn’t mean shit. The only way I know she’s okay is if I’m there to make it all okay.” The passion was coming back into his face, into his voice. “I know that I’d jump between her and a psycho with an uzi in two seconds, because she’s mine. Because she’s the only really good thing about me, and if she’s gone, I’m gone. If I’m not there, how the hell do I know if she’s with someone who would do that for her? Who’ll love her enough?” His voice went a little strange toward the end, and he took a moment to slow his breath, and there was fierce love in his face, enough that the backs of Kurt’s eyes began to consider heating up. “I used to think about her every day, but now I think about her all the time. Every second. It’s…it’s fucked-up.”
“No, it isn’t,” Kurt said.
Puck swallowed hard and seemed to try reining it back in. “But you’re coming next Wednesday, right?”
Kurt nodded. “Of course, Noah.”
Puck sniffed hard and jutted his chin in that strange guy-nod that Kurt had never mastered, and he was struck by the similarities to when David had done the same thing, standing outside his French class in his Bully-Whips uniform. “Cool.” Huh. He’d said that, too.
Puck held out a fist, and Kurt humored him and bumped it. Then, before Puck could pull his arm back, Kurt took him by the wrist and pressed the money back into his hand. “If you’re going to use it for anyone, use it for her.”
It took a second of Puck looking between his face and their hands for it to occur to Kurt that his gesture might be misinterpreted, and he cleared his throat as he pulled his hands away. Puck’s expression didn’t change, though, and he gave a mute nod.
From inside, Kurt’s dad called, “Five minutes, kiddo.”
“Coming,” Kurt called back, then glanced back at Puck with a twitch of the eyebrows. “Duty calls.”
“Pretty sweet gig you got here.”
Kurt shrugged. “It is what it is. I’ve been helping out here since I was eight. It started out as a good mutual distraction and bonding activity, and now it’s shopping money and more car knowledge than anyone expects a seventeen-year-old gay to have. Also, my own personal ‘Pimp My Ride.’”
Puck studied him, his expression unreadable again. “You actually know your shit, don’t you?”
Kurt lifted an eyebrow. “Who do you think overhauled the engine after you crashed that Volvo?”
Puck’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Bullshit.”
“Oh, don’t make me break out the auto-shop jargon. We’ll be here all afternoon.”
“I got no place to be.”
Kurt sighed. “Well, I’m actually getting paid for this, so I will not be staying out here to regale you. However, if you really need that much convincing, you’re welcome to come back in and hand me things when I point to them.” He dropped his voice low and conspiratorial. “I might even let you touch a carburetor.”
“Fuck you, dude.” But Puck was grinning, if a bit grudgingly. “What the hell. I’ll take it over chaperoning my sister at her fucking Disney Princess marathon at the Cohens’ place. Only so much of that a guy can take.”
Kurt’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh.” He blinked a few times, actually considered it. Talking cars with Puckerman. Talking to Puckerman outside the safe zones of Shelby’s house, his car, or a text message.
Huh.
Puck seemed to be going through a similar thought process when Kurt’s mind came back, but he didn’t take back the offer, instead just looking back at Kurt with an appraising eye.
Finally, Kurt stepped aside and pulled open the door. “Well, then. After you.”
-
“So. That was the Puckerman kid, right?”
“Mm-hm. No, no--give me that.”
“The heart attack was almost a year ago, kid. Think I can carry my own equipment.”
“Eight months, two weeks, and five days. Besides, I’m young and able-bodied, it builds character, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Fine, fine. So, the Puckerman kid. He bothering you again?”
“If by ‘bothering,’ you mean attacking me with grease-hands just because I may have mentioned that I’m not quite as averse to getting messy if I’m in coveralls, then yes. Yes, he was.”
“I don’t know about all that, but guess I’m just a little confused. This is one of the guys that used to give you trouble, right?”
“He is.”
“Same guy who was hanging around the shop with you all afternoon. Chasing you around with engine grease until you started snapping him with the oil rag.”
“Correct. But that was only for a minute. You and I both know that I am first and foremost a professional.”
“I know you are. This isn’t about that.”
“And what this is about would be…?”
“…You’re gonna tell me it’s none of my business, but it’s kinda my job to ask this stuff. So. That fight you had with Blaine the other day. It have anything to do with that guy?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know, when I was about your age, I was seeing this girl from my econ class, and then I went off to football camp for the summer. I got back, I found out she’d been spending a whole lot of time with another guy while I was gone, said she got lonely. And I got to admit, I didn’t take that too well.”
“…You just made me the girl.”
“Hey, don’t get touchy on me, it’s just an example. I just thought you should keep in mind that if you’re spending a lot of time with this Puckerman boy--”
“Wait. You think--oh. Oh. Oh, my God.”
“You about to laugh, or throw up? ‘Cause I can grab you a trash can.”
“Possibly both. Oh my God. Dad. Really?”
“So, that’s a no, then.”
“I’ll be the first to admit that Puckerman has excellent bone structure and, let’s face it, the body of a bronze god, but I daresay that’s a God no. Mutually.”
“All right, all right. It’s just not too often I see you hanging around with any of Finn’s buddies one-on-one.”
“…They’re my friends, too, Dad.”
“I know that. And I’m glad. But you know what I mean, kiddo.”
“Yeah. I know.”
-
A few weeks ago, Kurt had thought that Beth could not possibly be more adorable than when she performed her bobbing, laughing baby-dance to Puck’s strumming on the guitar.
Then he’d seen the part where she greeted Puck at the door and tried to climb him like a tree, and he had reevaluated his assessment.
But now…now they were in a park, and she was in a little pink sundress with a little white hat with a flower, and she was playing with a duck.
Just…being that cute should not be legal.
Kurt kept a hand over his mouth and did his damnedest to keep from laughing as he sat next to Shelby on the park bench and watched Beth timidly approach one of the ridiculously tame ducks by the pond, throw a piece of bread to it like Puck had shown her, then squeak and laugh and run back behind Puck when the duck started to waddle with interest in her direction.
He wasn’t quite close enough to hear, but Puck asked her something about ducks while she clutched at his pant leg and the back of his shirt.
Then he quacked. Loudly.
Beth burst into a delighted laugh (and Kurt maybe lost it for half a second, there, too), and Puck chuckled and kissed her on top of her hat, fixing it when it dropped a little over her eyes. Emboldened, she ventured out from behind him with another bit of bread.
It was a little risky, doing this out in public, and he and Puck had immediately exchanged tight glances when Shelby had suggested it. But no one knew them this side of town; Jesse St. James was long gone after the debacle that was Nationals, and if anyone else from Vocal Adrenaline happened by, they weren’t likely to recognize them or care. Puck knew the area from being dragged to the Lima Jewish Community Center nearby when he was younger, and more importantly, it would have been far too suspicious for them to say no.
“So, Kurt,” Shelby said, startling him out of watching, “it looks like you and Noah worked out whatever was going on last week?”
Ah. This conversation.
Kurt cleared his throat, sort of wishing he’d gone with Puck and Beth to look at the ducks. “Oh, yes. Just a small miscommunication, nothing to worry about.”
When he glanced up, she was looking at him very intently, enough that he almost drew back. She was subdued today, a little distracted, so the sudden laser focus was a little jarring. Seeming to choose her words one by one, she said, “I never asked. How was it that you got involved in these visits? Were they your idea?”
“Oh, no,” he quickly assured her. “Entirely Noah’s idea. This is all on his initiative.” He added a rather proud smile, because he really was rather proud of him for it. “I got involved because he didn’t have his own transportation for this, and he asked for help. I suppose I was the most appropriate candidate for it.”
“So he didn’t…force you to do this. He didn’t threaten you in any way?”
Uh-oh. “Not at all,” Kurt said, his smile dropping into a frown. “I did require him to state his case before giving a yea or nay, but this is all entirely consensual. What made you think otherwise?”
Shelby eyed Puck and Beth, then the ground. “He got pretty rough with you last week.”
Kurt bit his lip, not liking where this was going at all.
“And you looked pretty terrified. You’re a smart kid, and I don’t doubt that you can take care of yourself, but he’s a lot bigger than you are. I just wanted to make sure that kind of thing hasn’t been happening every time I’ve closed the door.”
“No,” Kurt said immediately, glancing at Puck and Beth again before he could help it. This time, when she ran away from the duck, she stopped in front of Puck instead of behind, then stretched her arms up. He lifted her into his arms and stood without missing a beat, taking her on the bridge to look at the fish.
Then Kurt remembered Shelby was waiting on him, and he met her eyes, saying evenly and clearly, “That was the only time. I’m here because I want to be.” He swallowed. “If I looked afraid for a second, it’s just because I’ve been bullied before, and getting pushed around brought a few of those knee-jerk reactions back to the surface. That’s all.”
Quietly, even gently, Shelby said, “Was he one of those bullies?”
Kurt inhaled, exhaled, and tried to think how on earth to answer that.
“…It is true that Noah and I have some…history, which has taken some time to work through,” he said slowly, because he could not would not paint a picture of Puckzilla for this woman, who was all the difference between Daddy smiling and pointing out catfish to his little girl, and Noah scowling on the bridge alone, without her. “It has been a journey, yes. But, and I truly believe this, no one in our glee club has come farther than Noah has. I think that especially in this last year, he has grown up more than anyone. And being here with Beth--he is the best version of himself when he’s with her. Honestly, I’m…really proud to be a part of that.”
Shelby regarded him for a while, and then the corner of her mouth curved up a little. “You’re a sweet kid, Kurt, you know that?”
“I can think of some choice individuals at McKinley who would beg to differ,” Kurt said, smirking a bit to hide his nerves, “but thank you.”
Puck reappeared next to the bench, and the subject was dropped. “She’s calling for Mama,” he said, his voice straining as he lifted Beth over to her.
Shelby took Beth, felt her diaper, and shook her head. “I see what I’m good for. Daddy gets the ducks, and Mama gets the diapers, huh?” she said, tapping Beth on the nose and making her wrinkle it and giggle. She adjusted Beth in her arms and stood, heading for the restrooms at the opposite corner of the park. “We’ll be back.”
Puck dropped down in her place, letting out his breath and looking more relaxed than he’d looked all week. “So. You keeping an eye on your ride?”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Not at all. In fact, I thought I’d leave the windows down and the key in the ignition, just for fun.”
“Dude, not funny,” Puck said, frowning at him. “I’ve got quality beverages stashed in there. Rachel told me straight-up she’s not letting me crack her dads’ liquor cabinet this time around, so I’m taking one for the team. You’re freakin’ welcome.”
“Once again, I refuse to acknowledge anything more than that there are two grocery bags of party supplies in my trunk. I don’t want to know what kind of supplies, where you got them, or how you intend for us to use them. This will remain the case until after tonight, when those two bags are no longer in my possession.”
“Nine tenths of the law, amigo.”
“I’m going to decide you didn’t just call me ‘amigo.’ It sounds far too similar to ‘amico,’ which I can only associate with the mafia since Finn held me hostage to watch The Godfather. I have enough anxiety about my current potentially law-breaking situation without bringing in cosa nostra, thank you very much.”
“Come on, The Godfather’s boss. And quit your bitching. You’re killing my buzz, dude.”
Kurt froze. “Noah, I need you to tell me right now that you were not just holding your infant daughter over the side of a bridge while inebriated.”
That earned him a sharp punch in the arm. “Dude!”
“Well!”
“Not cool!” Puck clicked his tongue, and Kurt wondered if there was something wrong with him if it actually made him feel a little ashamed. “I mean I’m in a good mood. Damn.”
Kurt shot him a skeptical frown, rubbing his arm where it was starting to ache. “Tell your good mood thanks for that.”
Puck rolled his eyes. “Man up, Hummel. This is totally me in a good mood. Tonight’s when I finally get my lady back.”
“Lauren’s back in town, huh?”
“Aww yeah. This party’s gonna be off the chain. And you’ve gotta actually be fun this time,” he said, bumping Kurt’s elbow with his. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at your boy all sober and shit last time around. What was up with that?”
“We weren’t dating yet. I didn’t want to put myself in any unattractive situations in his presence.”
“Yeah, ‘cause he gave a real shit about that one.”
“Danger…”
“Seriously. He’s not even here. Who the hell you trying to impress? Most of us have never even seen you with your hair screwed up. Live a little.”
“You make a compelling argument,” Kurt deadpanned, rolling his eyes.
“That a challenge, Hummel?”
“What do you--oh no,” he snapped, throwing a hand up to block Puck’s hand from reaching to muss his hair. “Don’t you dare!”
“You gonna let loose at Rachel’s tonight?”
“I make no promises--” he yelped again when Puck shot his other hand around, nearly swiping the top of his head before Kurt caught his wrist. “I will dye your mohawk rainbow in your sleep!”
“You do that, I’m getting Lauren to give you a straight-up Shirley Temple perm.”
Kurt gasped. “No.”
“Yep. Or you could get crunk and save yourself the grief. Take your pick.” He swiped again with a wicked smirk, and Kurt ducked, catching that wrist, too.
“Gah--peer pressure!” Kurt strained as he tried to wrestle Puck’s hands away from his head, laughing just like he had at the garage when he was battling Puck with an oil rag, and holy crap.
They were friends.
Like…actual friends. Not kind-of friends, or confined-to-a-certain-setting friends. They were…wow.
“Are we going to have to separate you two?”
Kurt looked up at Shelby’s voice, and Puck seized the opening to give his hair a good, hard ruffle that made his jaw drop and his voice sort of squeak. “Oh my God!” He shoved hard at Puck’s arm, nearly knocking him straight off the bench (which just made Puck’s laugh go sort of high-pitched without stopping), and set about smoothing out his hair by touch, huffing. “To answer your question…possibly. For Noah’s safety,” he said pointedly, trying and failing to wipe the smirk off Puck’s face with a hissed, “I’m getting you.”
Shelby smiled, a little tightly. “‘Possibly’ is good enough. Noah, can I talk to you a minute?”
Puck’s eyebrows lowered as Kurt’s lifted, reminding Kurt of the expression he’d gotten when Shelby had given them permission to take pictures. Just as quickly, the look was gone. “Yeah.” He glanced at Kurt. “You’re good with her, right?”
Kurt nodded, reaching for Beth when Shelby held her out to him, then setting her in his lap, where she stared back at him. “Well, hello there.”
Grinning a bit, Puck leaned down by Beth and said, “Hey, wanna show Uncle Kurt what sound a duck makes?”
Something swelled in Kurt’s chest, and he pursed his lips to keep them from spreading into a stupidly huge smile. Uncle Kurt.
Beth was many things, but not shy. With a little wave of her arms, she proudly announced, “Cuk, cuk!”
Kurt laughed, and Puck straightened out her hat again. “We’re working on it.”
“I think that’s an excellent duck-sound. Très approprié!” Kurt said, directing it to Beth, and he actually earned a smile. Shelby looked satisfied, and he stood, hefting Beth into his arms. “We’ll just take a walk, then.”
He glanced back once as he started along the park path at a leisurely stroll, watching Shelby sit down next to Puck. He could only hope it was nothing bad. If it was bad, then he could only hope he hadn’t somehow been the cause of it. If it was bad and it was his fault, that would just…he wasn’t going to think about that.
Then Beth popped a few fingers into her mouth and leaned her head sleepily on his shoulder, and he gently patted her side, his worries evaporating for a moment.
Uncle Kurt. Hee.
He walked with her in silence for a little while before she pulled her fingers from her mouth, made a noise, and pointed off to his right, at a patch of flowers. He slowed to let her look. “What’s that?” he asked.
“That,” Beth repeated in a tiny voice.
“That is a very astute observation,” Kurt said, smiling. “Bravá.”
A moment, and she lost interest, this time pointing at a tree.
Kurt glanced back toward the bench once more while he humored her with the ‘What’s that?’ game, but Shelby was still talking to Puck, and now he was on the other side of the park and couldn’t make out their expressions.
“That!” Beth insisted, pulling him back to the game. “That!”
He smiled and followed her pointing finger with his eyes. Then his smile dropped.
She was pointing at another tree. Behind which Kurt could just make out a very familiar red-brown afro.
No.
He sucked in his breath, alarms going off between his ears. “What’s that, indeed,” he murmured. Without a second’s hesitation, he pulled out his phone and held it low, typing a warning to Puck with one thumb.
>>You: JBI, 1:00
Then he took a deep breath, held Beth tight to him, and crept around the other side of the tree.
He wasn’t sure whether it was a testament to his own stealth or an insult to Jacob Ben Israel’s powers of observation that he was able to get so close before being noticed. Feeling a bit like a negotiator in a police drama, he cleared his throat.
Jacob spun around on his heel and, at the sight of Kurt, gave a rather pathetic-sounding squeak. Then, as if to make up for it, he shoved his stupid camera in Kurt’s face. “Kurt Hummel, i-is it true that Noah Puckerman has been experimenting with male fertility drugs in an effort to spawn an elite army of mohawked--hey!” he yelped when Kurt shoved his palm against the lens of the camera and gripped it tight, pulling it to the side.
“Jacob,” he said slowly, hoping it sounded as dangerous as he felt, “give me the camera.”
“Newsflash,” Jacob said in his ever-quavering voice, “you’re not a Cheerio anymore, so, so I don’t have to listen to you.” An irritatingly self-satisfied crossed his face. “Besides, this is just bonus footage. I’ve already sent the story about you and Puckerman and your little bundle of joy to my contact. He’s posting it on my blog as breaking news as we speak.”
“Story?” Kurt repeated, sharply enough that Jacob flinched, and this was bad.
“Noah Puckerman has been tormenting me since third grade,” Jacob said, and Kurt couldn’t tell if his tone was bitter or just proud. “I relish this opportunity to libel him into the ground once and for all.”
This was really, really bad.
“Jacob,” Kurt began again, his heart pounding, “withdraw the story. I am asking you as a classmate who has been harassed just as much as you have, and has never given you any trouble. Normally I wouldn’t care what you do, but this is meddling with Noah’s personal business. With his family.” He held Beth tight with one arm, the other hand still tight over the camera lens. “Don’t do this.”
“Sorry, Kurt,” Jacob said, and strangely enough he actually did sound a little sorry, “but I’ve been waiting to carry out this vendetta since age nine. The people need to know. I’m not responsible for collateral damage.” He squirmed under Kurt’s glare and made a weak attempt to change the subject. “It’s a cute kid. Does it have a--”
“Don’t look at her,” Kurt snapped, automatically angling Beth away from him. “Jacob, please. What…” he closed his eyes, really, really not wanting to ask this but feeling desperate, “…what do you want?”
“I’ll tell you what he wants.”
Jacob squeaked and cowered when Puck’s hand slammed into the tree next to his head, blocking him in. Glancing at his face, Kurt almost backed up himself; he looked murderous.
“He wants to drop the camera and make with the disappearing act before I rearrange his fucking face,” Puck spat, and Beth whimpered, clutching Kurt’s sweater tight.
“Puck,” Kurt snapped, finally letting go of the camera to push back against Puck’s shoulder, his eyes sweeping the park for Shelby. “Not here.”
“It’s too late,” Jacob said, looking equal parts terrified and exhilarated. “It’s already all over the blogosphere by now. By the time school starts again, your reputation will be so destroyed that all the Quinn Fabrays in the state couldn’t boost you back up the food chain.” Puck glowered, his breath growing heavy, and something was wrong, something was in his face that hadn’t been there before.
Keeping his hand pressed to Puck’s shoulder--though whether it was to reassure him or to hold him back, he wasn’t entirely sure--he jumped back in, “What are you even doing here? How long have you been following us?”
Jacob’s eyes snapped to him, glittering with interest in a way that made his skin crawl. “It’s a short walk from the Jewish Community Center, and that depends. How long have you been carrying out this illicit affai--” He yelped when Puck grabbed at his camera (which he had been not-so-subtly attempting to lift up again), and quickly clutched it out of the way. Kurt actually pushed Puck back this time, looking him hard in the eye and hissing his name again.
The second Puck moved, Jacob ducked out from under his arm and bolted, throwing a slightly hysterical, “You’ll never take me alive!” over his shoulder.
“No,” Kurt said when Puck moved to chase after him. “He said it’s already online. That means we have a limited amount of time to clear the air before people start to see it,” he reminded him, trying very hard to break through this new wall Puck seemed to have put up around himself. “Where’s Shelby?”
“Got a call,” Puck muttered, his shoulders hunched and far too tense. His eyes fell on Beth, and Kurt held her out to him. Puck brought her close the second he had her in his arms, pressing his face into her hat and moodily following Jacob with his eyes.
He looked so on edge that Kurt pushed the Jacob situation aside. “What did she say to you?”
Puck shook his head, lowering his eyes with a tight, tight jaw. “I’ll find her. You go bring your ride around,” he said, his voice still low. “Everyone’ll already be at Rachel’s. Just get us there. I’ll think us up an alibi.”
“Okay,” Kurt said uncertainly, but dug out his keys while Puck took Beth back toward the bench.
Something was wrong. And Kurt had a sinking feeling that this was only the start.
~*~
A/N2: So my original intention was for this to be 10 chapters. That’s still the goal. But now that Kurt and Puck have decided they want to have entire conversations I did not plan for them, I should probably suggest that it might end up slightly longer than that. If that becomes a certainty, that ‘10’ in the chapter numbers will be turned into a question mark. /planning fail