Title: Untitled AU
Characters (Pairings): Puck/Kurt, ensemble
Ratings/Warnings: AU, language
Word Count: 4293
Summary: Puck wears an ugly tie and Kurt just wants some chocolate Pop Tarts.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
A/N: So, yeah. This is a Fic I'm Not Writing in which it's a fic that either was going no where or died but I still like it and wish to share the story. This one has been on my computer for ages. I was writing this during/just after season one. I had actually forgotten about this. It's an AU and I rather love it. Enjoy.
{Story Time|
Chapter One
Noah Puckerman slouched slightly as he strolled through the hallway. He mentally rolled his eyes at the beige paint scheme they had going on, it wasn't all that imaginative and made him tired. Which wasn't all that hard to do. He hadn't slept in a while, too busy with closing some of his undercover cases. He was looking forward to going home and plunging into his bed. He might take his shoes off first, but then again when he reached his house he might not have the ability to untie them.
He really should've thought about buying those Velcro shoes. And if another agent decided to make fun of his Velcro shoes, he would just have to teach that agent a lesson. Puck was badass; best they had.
"Puckerman." Schue said, causing Puck to stop in his tracks and turn around.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Got a new case for you." He held up a file.
Puck sighed and ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. Moving inside Schuester's office he wanted to voice that Schue should look into a new wallpaper or something because all this beige did nothing to make him want to stay at work. Sitting down he laced his fingers together, resting them against his stomach as he slumped in the chair. "Wonderful."
"Don't sound too thrilled." Schue replied with a slight smile. "You're assigned to protect a state witness until it's his turn to talk in court."
Puck knew he shouldn't hope, chances are against him, but he figured he should ask, "Is he someone who saw something he shouldn't've or-"
"No." Schue said, "You should know better than to think that." Most people weren't aware of it, but the majority in witness protection were not good guys. They were typically people who did very bad things and then angered a person who did worse things and needed to hide somewhere safe. He handed the file over and Puck opened it, glancing at it as Schuester filled him in, "Kurt Hummel. Rather small fish who happens to be the most knowledgeable in the whole school of fish. He's getting community service and a new life for what he's giving us."
Puck glanced down, no picture in the file, just words. Middle man. Money launderer. Could fake documents decently. Basically, he knew everybody as he was the best at handling money. Looking for someone to fence a stolen piece of art? Hummel knew who you wanted to contact. Need to get a hold of some guns? Hummel could hook you up with someone who had what you wanted. Needed some back-up muscle? A drifter? Someone to take care of that pesky neighbor? Talk to Hummel.
With some words falling out of Hummel's mouth, they could put a number of America's Most Wanted away.
No wonder Hummel was only getting some community service.
Puck sighed and finished reading Hummel's file before going to meet the guy. Probably a middle-aged, over-weight guy with a goatee. Trudging towards the room where Hummel was at, Puck absently wished he could go to his home and sleep. He had, for a second, hoped he'd be able to meet Hummel the next day and delay it by a few hours but the look Schuester was giving him? Puck had to go meet Hummel now.
Opening the door, Puck's eyebrows rose up when he saw a guy who looked barely twenty. He was sitting in the chair, looking at his nails with a nail file in hand and humming a tune that Puck was certain came from a musical. Hummel was cross legged and wearing freakin' skinny jeans that were a plaid red. A scarf with skulls on it was tied around his neck and his boots had a slight heel to them; the heel hitting the floor as he tapped his foot to his own humming.
"Mr. Hummel." Schue said, giving the initial introductions.
Hummel looked up and his eyes were friendly which threw Puck off. Most of the witness' he'd met were anything but friendly. "I'd prefer Kurt, if that's alright Mr. Schuster. I know it's cliché and I really don't need help in that area, but Mr. Hummel is my father." He pointed at them then, "And he is the only reason why I'm doing this and not going about my usual day."
"Of course, Kurt." Schue said with a friendly smile, "Well, I'd like you to meet Noah Puckerman. He's assigned your case. Puckerman will be the main agent who is around all the time. So if you need anything, you talk to him."
Hummel looked Puck up and down before raising an eyebrow and pointing with his nail file, "That tie is hideous."
Puck looked down at his tie. "My daughter gave it to me."
Hummel's face softened, "Well then, she has good taste."
"Wait. If I had picked it out it was hideous but since my daughter picked it out it's not?" Puck was confused. That just didn't make sense. Either a tie was ugly or it wasn't.
Hummel rolled his eyes, not seemingly happy to have to explain his strange logic, "If you had picked it out that means you spent money on it. And out of all the ties in the store? The tie itself offends my eyes. You would have no reason to pick that tie other than having to fashion sense at all. While since it was your daughter I'm sure she didn't have that many ties to pick from and stores to go to. Also only a certain amount of money. I'm sure that from whatever gaudy store she was at, she choose the best tie."
Puck blinked. That did actually make sense. "Huh." He glanced at his tie again, a hand going over it to smooth it down as if being called hideous ruffled it's feathers. "Not sure where she got it. Don't see her or baby mama much."
"Job taking up too many hours?" Hummel put his nail file away.
"No. Not together." Puck sat down across from Hummel.
"Job had been your life and therefore devoice." Hummel's voice was sure. "I know what it's like to have the job be your life." he paused, "Actually, it was more I didn't want to bring a civilian into my life and possibly get hurt." His mouth curled downwards slightly.
Puck shook his head, "Try again. We were never married. And we were also never together."
"Ah." Hummel nodded, "The dreaded one night stand."
Schue stepped up then, Puck turned towards him, he'd forgotten that his boss was still in the room with them, "Uh. I'm going to have a quick word with Puckerman before I leave." He grabbed Puck's elbow and led him just outside the door, "You just opened up a lot to him. I'm glad you didn't say names but you've never been so open before."
Puck blinked. Schuester was right. "I don't know why I did that."
Schue put a hand on Puck's shoulder, "I know that you care about Beth and you love talking about her, and that was probably part of the reason. Another is because Kurt is not what you expected, right?" Puck gave a small shrug, causing Schue's hand to fall, "Yeah, I hadn't expected that either. He does actually seem like a nice guy and that's strange for his line of work."
"I'll be sure to watch what I say from now on, no worries." Puck shot his boss a confident smirk.
Schue chuckled, "Good luck with that. You'll be spending a lot of time with him and he likes to talk. Just," he paused, "just try and not give too much away. I mean, he is going to end up with a new life but I wouldn't be telling him Quinn's address."
"I would never." Puck said, "I may not be with Quinn, but she's my best friend and I love her and Beth."
Schue gave Puck a smile, "I know. I know." Patting him on the shoulder he gave a nod, "Alright. I'll let you take care of Kurt. You know the protocol and where to lay low until the court date. And you call me if something happens. If you say something or if you just can't handle him." With that he turned around and left Puck alone in the hallway.
Taking a few deep breaths, Puck tried to focus himself. He couldn't be telling Hummel much about his life. And Schue was mostly right as to why he had said what he had. He loved talking about Beth and Hummel threw him for a loop. In more ways than one. Sure, Hummel seemed nice - if a bit bitchy, but when Puck had seen him he was sad to say he found the guy hot. Like, Super Hot. He'd lived his life knowing he was bi but there were only a few people who he classified as Super Hot. And Hummel was the first guy to make that list. Sighing to himself, Puck opened the door and went back in the room.
Chapter Two
The safe house was a small apartment in a low-rent area of town and the street light outside worked but for a few seconds every hour, trying to come on but only in vain. The wallpaper was peeling and much to Puck's dismay, the tile floor in the hallway outside the apartment was beige. Or at least it started that way.
Inside was a touch better looking. A living room with a kitchenette, a dinky bathroom that didn't have a tub, only a shower that may or may not have hot water, and a bedroom with a queen size and a full size. There were bars over the windows and a number of locks on the door, those were new and up to date, unlike everything else.
Puck fell down on the over-stuffed sofa and ran a hand over his face. Okay, so Hummel was Super Hot but he wouldn't shut up.
"You seriously want me to stay here?" Hummel stepped warily into the small apartment and was clutching his freakin' purse as if it was his life line.
"It's safe, Hummel. If those people know you're flippin' on them they will freak out and come after you." Puck explained this slowly, "So we go somewhere safe where they won't find you."
"You're right." Hummel gave a sharp nod, "They would never think to look for me here if I was hiding myself. It's disgusting and I am going to have nightmares for years now." His eyes narrowed as he looked at Puck, "You've scarred me for life."
Rolling his eyes Puck stretched out, "It's not that bad here. I could've taken us to a place with rats if you'd rather."
"Don't you dare." Hummel pointed and gingerly sat down in the chair across the coffee table. "If you put any more thought into taking me somewhere worse than this I'll kick you in the junk with my bitch boots." He paused, a glint in his eye, "And I was a star kicker in my high school's football team. It wouldn't be pleasant."
"Seriously?" Puck looked Hummel up and down again, even though his appearance hadn't changed since last time, "You?"
Hummel got this look on his face that Puck would say was what you would see if you looked up 'Bitch Face' in a book, "Yes, me. Best kicker they had in years, thankyouverymuch. I do not like it when people assume stuff about me. It's a Neanderthalic thing to do."
"So," Puck drew out the word, "you would be okay if I put the game on?" He waved his hand towards the small television.
"I hate football." Hummel sneered.
"But you just said-"
"I said not to assume things. Just because I played doesn't mean I like the game." He sighed and massaged the back of his neck with his fingers.
"So, if you hate the sport, why join?" Puck asked.
Hummel shrugged, "Mostly for my dad. And because the team couldn't win without me." It struck Puck that this was the second time Hummel mentioned his dad and the first time he claimed that he was getting out of his life of crime because of him. Clearly, he cared for his dad. "I'm hungry." Hummel stated, "What is there to eat around here?"
Puck shrugged, "Nothing, I think. It's been a while since this safe house has been used and I don't think anyone's brought food over yet." Getting up, he decided to see if anything was left.
The fridge had a bottle of ketchup and something brown while the cabinets had mouse droppings (apparently this is one of the places with rats) and some pop tarts. Grabbing the pop tarts he held the box out, "These work for you?" Puck asked, doubting they'd do. After all, they were fudge flavor.
Hummel nodded, "Yep." He grabbed the box, "You gonna want some? I can save you a package."
Puck nodded, "Sure. Might as well." He was slightly surprised that the other guy would eat the chocolate pop tarts. But he'd already been yelled at enough by Hummel about judging him on appearance so he wasn't planning on voicing his thoughts.
Tearing into the box Hummel screamed and dropped it, jumping back away from it and running into the coffee table. His arms flailed as he tried to catch his balance, but he ended up falling backwards and landed on the small table which crumbled under the sudden pressure.
Puck blinked as the dust settled. "Hummel?" he asked, reaching out and helping the guy up. "You hurt any?"
Hummel's brow was furrowed, "I'm hurt. I'm devastated. First," and Puck knew that he was going to have to listen to another rant. He'd already dealt with a few of those on the drive to the safe house, he wasn't looking forward to another. "you threaten me with moving me to a rat infested hole and then when I'm hungry you bring me some old pop tarts that I figured I could eat even though they'd be dry and when I open the box what is in there? A dead mouse. A very large dead mouse that had already eaten all the pop tarts so I get no chocolate - which I was looking forward to. And then in my surprise I break a table and my clothes got all dirty and torn and I'm going to have a bruise." He crossed his arms, "This is all your fault. And I want an apology."
"You want an apology?" Puck asked.
"Yes." Hummel nodded. "I deserve one."
"Look, Hummel, I don't do apologies." Puck tried.
Hummel was not amused, "You don't do apologies?" He snorted attractively, which was odd. Puck didn't think that could be done.
"The only people I even think about apologizing to and will sometimes give a semi-apology are my Ma, my sis, baby mama, and my daughter. No one else. Got that, Hummel?"
"Please," Hummel's voice sounded tight, "please tell me you don't call her baby mama to her face."
Puck blinked, "Well, sometimes."
Throwing up his hands, Hummel walked off to the bathroom, "You are unbelievable. And I have to spend from now to who knows when the court date is with you!" He slammed the door behind him.
Puck shrugged and ran his hand over his face. He could tell that he and Hummel would never get along. Probably. But if he was going to have to spend who knows how much longer with him, Puck decided he'd have to at least try and play nice. Knowing that the other man was probably still hungry (though maybe seeing the dead rodent made him loose his appetite?) and there still wasn't any food in the fridge. Digging into his pocket, Puck brought out his cell phone and dialed a well known number. Talking quickly to the person on the other end he hung up when he was done.
Not a moment later, Hummel threw the door open and glared out. "I'll have you know, I'm now beyond hungry. I'm famished."
"Don't get your panties in a twist." Puck rolled his eyes, "I've ordered for some Chinese. I do hope that's okay?" His tone was sharp and arms were crossed.
Hummel tilted his head up, "What did you order for me?" He strutted out of the bathroom and Puck could see that his clothes were straightened and dust had been brushed off. Though his face was dry, the little hairs around Hummel's face was damp, a clear sign that he had washed his face. Probably to calm himself down or something.
"I ordered some honey chicken, beef and broccoli, Chinese vegetables and fried rice." Puck shrugged. He'd not known what type of food Hummel ate and so he'd ordered a variety hoping that Hummel liked one and wouldn't yell at him for not asking what he had wanted to eat.
Hummel's glare softened slightly. "Okay. I should be able to find something to eat in all that." His stomach growled then and Puck felt his face smirk as Hummel's hand covered his abdomen and his face flushed. And when that guy blushed, it looked like his whole body did too. It at least covered his neck and Puck wondered how far down the flushed coloring went. "Are you staring at my chest?" Hummel's voice sounded confused.
Puck let his gaze rise and see that Hummel looked as confused as he sounded. "You've got a little," he moved a few of his fingers in a up and down motion, towards the chest area. He tried to keep a straight face as Hummel's face paled dramatically from the blush that had been covering it and he jumped back again.
"Oh God. It's a bug. Get it off me Noah!" Hummel cried out, acting like he wanted to take it off, but his elegant hands wouldn't touch it, instead hovering over his chest.
Puck had failed at keeping his face straight. The corners of his mouth were turned upwards, "Excuse me. What is my name?"
Hummel's head snapped up, glower in the eyes, "Agent Puckerman. Get your tight ass over here and get the bug off me." His whole body was tense, and so Puck too pity on him and stepped forward, touching the small unidentifiable bug and picking it off the other man.
His hand lingered near Hummel, wanting to grab him, feel his warmth. Puck felt his hand twitch at the idea and he heard Hummel take a breath. They stood there for a moment, the bug crawling somewhere on the floor away from them, and both jumped when there was a knock at the door.
"Stay here." Puck said, making sure he was using his best Agent voice and he looked through the peep-hole seeing a delivery man for the food he'd ordered. Opening the door he paid the man and they sat down, in silence. Neither of them wanted to talk about the, well, the moment they'd had. Or at least Puck figured Hummel wouldn't want to.
When another knock sounded, Hummel choked a bit on his food and Puck hit him on the back twice, "You okay?" Hummel nodded, taking a sip of his water. "Been a shit day, huh?" He walked towards the door, "Fall on a table, get threatened by a tiny bug and now the Chinese doesn't want to be eaten."
Once again, he looked through the peep-hole and felt his shoulders sage in relief. Throwing open the door he grinned at the sight of Agents Finn Hudson and Santana Lopez with their arms full of groceries. "Hey, Puck." Finn greeted with a smile.
They came in and Santana looked around, eyes narrowing at everything. It appeared as if she was trying to see all the faults of the safe house. Then they landed on Hummel and she gave him an icy look. Hummel gave the look back and Finn was oblivious of the Ice Bitch Off that was happening a few feet away from him. The giant of a man was jabbering about nothing as he put the food away.
Chapter Three
Puck sat down, soda in hand, same spot on the sofa he'd been in when he and Hummel had first entered the safe house. Hummel was lounging on a chair, staring at the television as if the nature of it offended him. Finn and Santana had just left, moments before. Having shared their food with the two other agents, Finn talked to Hummel easily without getting bitched at and Santana was quiet, which wasn't unheard of, and when she did talk, she was as aggressive as ever.
At the next knock at the door, Hummel's eyes went to it and Puck got up, grumbling about Finn forgetting something. Again. Santana really should look after her partner better. Not bothering to look through the peep-hole, Puck forced the door open and quickly shut it as bullets punched through the door, jumping out of the way - towards Hummel. Hummel didn't need Puck to tell him what to do. He was surprised that the ex-money launderer did the right movements and got himself to safety in the correct way. Gun in hand, Puck shot to where he thought the bullets were coming from and he made sure Hummel was behind him. He idly hoped that this guy hadn't gotten Finn and Santana. Hoped they got away yet close enough to hear the shots and come and help. Turning back, he motioned for Hummel to stay down, but Hummel just rolled his eyes and continued what he was doing. Which was looking through some of the baskets under the coffee table. Growling to himself, Puck turned around and tried a few more shots.
Suddenly there was a light touch on his arm and Hummel had his arms full of some pretty random stuff. The duct tape standing out the most. His raised his eyebrows and motioned his head towards the bathroom, tugging gently at Puck's arm. Puck sneered and shook his head but Hummel's eyes narrowed and he tugged harder before fucking standing up and calmly walking towards the bathroom. Ignoring the bullets that were coming through the thin walls trying to hit them.
Puck pounced up and walking backwards, trying some more to hit the shooter, followed Hummel to the bathroom. Hummel was fucking whistling as he pushed Puck out of the way and shut the door behind them. "Calm yourself, Noah."
"That's Agent Puckerman, Hummel." Puck barked out in a hushed whisper. "The agent who you should've listened to. Now we're stuck in the bathroom. During a shootout."
Hummel rolled his eyes, "I figured something like this would happen before my court date." He moved to the wall, "After all, there's a large number of people who would be very angry at me when and if they found out what I was doing. So, when I was in here earlier, I took steps for an escape." He walked over to the medicine cabinet and grabbed a razor that had lay in it. Calmly handing over all the other objects in his hands, Hummel pushed his shoulder against the wall and it broke. A hole appeared and Hummel just sighed and stared down at his now dusty clothes with ennui. He then disappeared in the wall.
Puck walked over and saw Hummel cutting at the other side with the razor, scoring it. Once again, he pushed against it and it caved through to the other apartment. Puck had to go in sideways to follow, but he fit through and stared at the other man. "What the hell just happened?"
Hummel shrugged, "Simple. As I stated," he was looking around the apartment. It seemed as if he was looking for a way out, eyes calculating, "I figured someone would be after me at some point so I took precautions when I was in the bathroom earlier. I'm glad I did the prep work." He added the last bit more as a statement to himself, "I looked at where the nails were on the baseboard and so I knew where the studs were. After finding the razor, I cut the drywall, away from the studs and weakened it. Easy and quick escape." He shrugged. "Looks like whoever lives here isn't in at the moment." Walking to the window, Hummel looked out and frowned.
"And how did you know that would work?" Puck asked, joining Hummel at the window and not liking how high they were.
"My uncle was a carpenter and I'd spend at least two weeks with him during the summer." Hummel answered and looked up, grinning. "Look, Noah-"
"Agent Puckerman."
"-they've got rot in their horrifyingly low ceiling." Grabbing a kitchen chair he stood on it and pushed. Breaking through he crawled up. Puck followed behind and soon they were both in darkness.
"Great plan, Hummel." Puck couldn't help but have sarcasm in his voice. "Now we can't see where we're going."
"I had grabbed a flashlight." Hummel's voice was patronizing. "And you've got all the stuff. Why don't you turn it on and you can have your precious light?"
Puck snarled as he fumbled in his hands for something that felt like a flash light. Clicking it on he swept the light around and a rat scurried away. "We've better get a move on it before the gunman goes looking for us. Won't be that hard to track us down."
Hummel nodded and made a face as they started crawling though the dirt. "Oh God. I won't be able to save these clothes."
"It's not about saving your clothes, Hummel." Puck bit out, "It's about saving your life."