Weekly Challenge #8 Entry
Media: Fic
Title: Uh…
Friend: Coach Beiste
Rating: PG for implications of violence
Spoilers (If any): Beiste?
Warnings (If any): NUUU!
Word Count: 311
Summary: Wouldn’t you like to know?
Puck carefully picked the lock on the door to the boys’ changing rooms in the gym. It was well after usual hours, but he had forgotten his phone after practice. He had received an angry and intimidating facebook message from Santana about answering his phone, and as he had no desire to actually see if she was telling the truth about what she could do with a butcher knife, he decided a little B&E couldn’t hurt. Or it could hurt less than whatever Santana had planned.
After he opened the door, he counted himself lucky that he was such a stealthy badass, because he obviously wasn’t alone. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but there were definitely two distinct voices drifting out of the coach’s office. He knew he should really grab his phone and get out, but he’d always been too curious for his own good.
“…good bone structure and a great complexion. It would be a shame not to take advantage. Makeovers are like crack to me. It’s a good thing your car broke down. Close.”
Shannon closed her eyes as ordered while Kurt Hummel rubbed something on her face that, frankly, smelled delicious.
“Also, it looks like rats have been sucking on the ends of your hair. We’re going to tackle that next.”
“What is this stuff again?”
“Citrus toner, Ms. B. It smells great, right?”
She grunted. “It’s makin’ me hungry.”
Kurt’s laugh sounded like tinkling bells. “You sound just like my father. What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Huh?” she said, surprised by the kid’s sudden topic shift.
“You. Me. Shopping in Columbus. It’s happening.”
“I think it would be highly inappropriate for-”
“What’s inappropriate is these shorts! We’re going to find you something much more flattering.”
Shannon sighed, “I suppose there’s no chance of talking you out of this.”
“Nope.” Kurt looked smug. Triumph.
Title: Uh…
Friend: Coach Beiste
Rating: PG for implications of violence
Spoilers (If any): Beiste?
Warnings (If any): NUUU!
Word Count: 311
Summary: Wouldn’t you like to know?
Puck carefully picked the lock on the door to the boys’ changing rooms in the gym. It was well after usual hours, but he had forgotten his phone after practice. He had received an angry and intimidating facebook message from Santana about answering his phone, and as he had no desire to actually see if she was telling the truth about what she could do with a butcher knife, he decided a little B&E couldn’t hurt. Or it could hurt less than whatever Santana had planned.
After he opened the door, he counted himself lucky that he was such a stealthy badass, because he obviously wasn’t alone. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but there were definitely two distinct voices drifting out of the coach’s office. He knew he should really grab his phone and get out, but he’d always been too curious for his own good.
“…good bone structure and a great complexion. It would be a shame not to take advantage. Makeovers are like crack to me. It’s a good thing your car broke down. Close.”
Shannon closed her eyes as ordered while Kurt Hummel rubbed something on her face that, frankly, smelled delicious.
“Also, it looks like rats have been sucking on the ends of your hair. We’re going to tackle that next.”
“What is this stuff again?”
“Citrus toner, Ms. B. It smells great, right?”
She grunted. “It’s makin’ me hungry.”
Kurt’s laugh sounded like tinkling bells. “You sound just like my father. What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Huh?” she said, surprised by the kid’s sudden topic shift.
“You. Me. Shopping in Columbus. It’s happening.”
“I think it would be highly inappropriate for-”
“What’s inappropriate is these shorts! We’re going to find you something much more flattering.”
Shannon sighed, “I suppose there’s no chance of talking you out of this.”
“Nope.” Kurt looked smug. Triumph.