Glee: Diamonds and Coal (part 02)
Title: Diamonds and Coal (part 02)
Author: percontata
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Puck/Kurt
Rating: PG-13 this chapter (overall NC-17)
Word count: 1,300
Warnings: Spoilers for Wheels.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. I'm just having fun with them. Not responsible for underage readers.
Summary: Puck begins to get to know another side of the Kurt Hummel he thought he knew.
Notes: Many thanks to everyone who has already read and commented on the first chapter! :D
Puck wasn't sure what to do about this new information. Sure, he'd tossed Hummel into dumpsters for the past couple years, but this was wrong on a completely different level. All a dumpster dive did was minor damage to clothing and pride. But threatening, anonymous phone calls... that was some kind of psychological warfare type of thing. And it implied a real intent to cause harm. Puck may have acknowledged that he could be a bit of a bully, but hell, he'd never do something that cruel.
How long had this been going on for? The easy answer was just since the "diva off," but that could have just been the first time Mr. Hummel had intercepted a call, since Kurt said that this was something involving his dad. It was entirely possible that it had been going on for much longer, and he'd gotten similar phone calls before. Shit.
"What's the face for?"
Startled out of his thoughts, Puck looked up to meet Hummel's curious glance. And then the other boy's eyes shifted to the phone still in Puck's hand, and the color drained from his face.
Puck waited for him to say something, but when it became evident that nothing was forthcoming, he decided it would be best to break the uncomfortable silence. "How long have you been getting calls like that?"
Watching Hummel's face at that moment was both distressing and fascinating, as his expression shifted rapidly between wide-eyed panic, teeth-gritting frustration, and finally settled on eerily calm defeat. Puck wished he'd just start screaming his head off, rather than have to see the usually so self-possessed boy come apart like that.
Finally, Hummel spoke. "Not long." Puck's disbelieving look prompted him to add, "Not really. I've always had people jeering at me for being a fag, I'm used to that." The somewhat accusatory tone made Puck squirm. "It's the vaguely threatening calls that are new."
"Vaguely? Hummel, whoever just called said to watch your back. That's some pretty damn blatant threatening."
"They didn't start out that way," Hummel said defensively. "The first time... Someone called my dad at work to inform him that his son is a fag." The sneer as he recounted that bit couldn't have been more contemptuous.
Puck knew what he'd promised Hummel earlier, but he just had to know if the connection he suspected was true. So he asked, "That was just before the diva-off, wasn't it? That's why you blew it."
He almost wished he hadn't said anything, the moment the words were out of his mouth. The utter devastation in Kurt's reaction was practically tangible. "What was I supposed to do? I couldn't do that to my dad! He can't... He can't handle this type of thing. If I'd sung that in front of a real audience, it would have only gotten worse. He does his best, he supports me and everything, but I can tell it kills him that people will always hate me for this part of who I am." He swiped at the corner of his eyes with one delicate finger. He was crying. Fuck.
Puck swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat and couldn't help but point out, as gently as he could, "It doesn't seem like backing down did much good though, does it? Not if you're still getting those calls."
Hummel gave a harsh laugh. "No, I suppose it didn't."
And then that uncomfortable silence was back. Puck didn't know what to say. Here was the prissy queer... Kurt, he amended mentally, who he'd harassed and habitually tormented, who'd always stood up and taken it with grace and dignity. Puck thought that maybe he'd convinced himself that Hummel was built of stone in those instances, that nothing could touch him. But now, Puck was seeing a side of him that he probably wished no one ever would, that side that actually could get hurt and show evidence of it. Maybe not to the world, but just in brief moments of defeat. Moments like this.
It was absolutely terrifying.
So he did the only thing he could think of, and said, "I liked your rendition of that song better. Rachel didn't get the emotion in it right. Too much happiness, not enough fuck-this-shit-I'm-doing-it-my-way."
Kurt looked at him for a moment as though he'd grown a second head, but then let out a small huff of laughter. "I can't believe you've actually seen Wicked."
Puck shrugged. "Snuck my little sister in to see it for her birthday. She ended up playing nothing but that soundtrack on repeat for months. I only managed to get her to knock it off by convincing her it made my ears bleed. Ketchup in your ears is not a fun experience, man."
"...That's both sweet and somewhat horrifying."
But despite his words, Kurt was actually smiling, and that was enough for Puck.
* * *
Puck didn't notice the time fly by for the next couple of hours. Noticing the passage of time was considerably less important than discovering a previously unseen side of Kurt. Sure, the guy had a closet bigger than Puck's bedroom, but he also had a kickass entertainment center in his basement. Playing X-Box on Finn's tiny bedroom TV stood no comparison to practically having his ears blasted off every time he gunned an enemy down.
It was totally awesome.
He had no idea that Kurt could be so normal. Typical video-game-playing-guy normal. And he got surprisingly into it, alternately grunting and shrieking throughout the gameplay. When Puck questioned him about it, he'd just shrugged and admitted that his gal pals had no interest in playing Halo with him unless it involved rocking out to Beyoncé, so he usually just played online-multiplayer games by himself. And since he was used to being alone when he played, he'd formed a habit of letting go and making as much noise about it as he wanted. To Puck, this was endlessly entertaining. He'd even intentionally had a friendly fire "accident" just to get a rise out of Kurt.
When nearly two hours had passed, Kurt's cell phone rang. "Dad, hi! Yeah, actually I'm home, Puck gave me a ride. We're playing Halo. No, the video game. Yeah, the car's still in the school parking lot. Could you tow it to the garage for me? Thanks. Sure, I'll make dinner. See you soon." He hung up to find Puck staring at him. "What?"
He shrugged. "I saw you messing with your car after school. Didn't realize you were such a grease monkey, Hummel."
Kurt just rolled his eyes. "Just because I happen to enjoy nice clothes doesn't mean I'm a porcelain doll, Noah. My dad owns a garage. I grew up around cars, so of course I picked up a thing or two over the years. By the way, dad said to invite you to stay for dinner."
Puck nodded, "Sounds good. Need any help with that?"
The two soon found themselves in the kitchen, and Puck didn't say anything when Kurt pulled out some vegetables, eggs, cheese, potatoes, onions and bacon. "Dad really likes breakfast for dinner, and I usually won't make it. Too much grease. But, well, today started off as a pretty rough day, and it's not that bad to have once in a while," he explained, and finished with a vague smile.
Puck heard his mother's voice in the back of his head, ranting about the virtues of Judaism and all its laws and customs, but he just couldn't bring himself to remove that smile from Kurt's face, slight as it was. Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't eaten non-kosher before - cafeteria mystery meat pretty much assured that much. So he just returned the smile and started cracking eggs for an omelet.
previous | next
Author: percontata
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Puck/Kurt
Rating: PG-13 this chapter (overall NC-17)
Word count: 1,300
Warnings: Spoilers for Wheels.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. I'm just having fun with them. Not responsible for underage readers.
Summary: Puck begins to get to know another side of the Kurt Hummel he thought he knew.
Notes: Many thanks to everyone who has already read and commented on the first chapter! :D
Puck wasn't sure what to do about this new information. Sure, he'd tossed Hummel into dumpsters for the past couple years, but this was wrong on a completely different level. All a dumpster dive did was minor damage to clothing and pride. But threatening, anonymous phone calls... that was some kind of psychological warfare type of thing. And it implied a real intent to cause harm. Puck may have acknowledged that he could be a bit of a bully, but hell, he'd never do something that cruel.
How long had this been going on for? The easy answer was just since the "diva off," but that could have just been the first time Mr. Hummel had intercepted a call, since Kurt said that this was something involving his dad. It was entirely possible that it had been going on for much longer, and he'd gotten similar phone calls before. Shit.
"What's the face for?"
Startled out of his thoughts, Puck looked up to meet Hummel's curious glance. And then the other boy's eyes shifted to the phone still in Puck's hand, and the color drained from his face.
Puck waited for him to say something, but when it became evident that nothing was forthcoming, he decided it would be best to break the uncomfortable silence. "How long have you been getting calls like that?"
Watching Hummel's face at that moment was both distressing and fascinating, as his expression shifted rapidly between wide-eyed panic, teeth-gritting frustration, and finally settled on eerily calm defeat. Puck wished he'd just start screaming his head off, rather than have to see the usually so self-possessed boy come apart like that.
Finally, Hummel spoke. "Not long." Puck's disbelieving look prompted him to add, "Not really. I've always had people jeering at me for being a fag, I'm used to that." The somewhat accusatory tone made Puck squirm. "It's the vaguely threatening calls that are new."
"Vaguely? Hummel, whoever just called said to watch your back. That's some pretty damn blatant threatening."
"They didn't start out that way," Hummel said defensively. "The first time... Someone called my dad at work to inform him that his son is a fag." The sneer as he recounted that bit couldn't have been more contemptuous.
Puck knew what he'd promised Hummel earlier, but he just had to know if the connection he suspected was true. So he asked, "That was just before the diva-off, wasn't it? That's why you blew it."
He almost wished he hadn't said anything, the moment the words were out of his mouth. The utter devastation in Kurt's reaction was practically tangible. "What was I supposed to do? I couldn't do that to my dad! He can't... He can't handle this type of thing. If I'd sung that in front of a real audience, it would have only gotten worse. He does his best, he supports me and everything, but I can tell it kills him that people will always hate me for this part of who I am." He swiped at the corner of his eyes with one delicate finger. He was crying. Fuck.
Puck swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat and couldn't help but point out, as gently as he could, "It doesn't seem like backing down did much good though, does it? Not if you're still getting those calls."
Hummel gave a harsh laugh. "No, I suppose it didn't."
And then that uncomfortable silence was back. Puck didn't know what to say. Here was the prissy queer... Kurt, he amended mentally, who he'd harassed and habitually tormented, who'd always stood up and taken it with grace and dignity. Puck thought that maybe he'd convinced himself that Hummel was built of stone in those instances, that nothing could touch him. But now, Puck was seeing a side of him that he probably wished no one ever would, that side that actually could get hurt and show evidence of it. Maybe not to the world, but just in brief moments of defeat. Moments like this.
It was absolutely terrifying.
So he did the only thing he could think of, and said, "I liked your rendition of that song better. Rachel didn't get the emotion in it right. Too much happiness, not enough fuck-this-shit-I'm-doing-it-my-way."
Kurt looked at him for a moment as though he'd grown a second head, but then let out a small huff of laughter. "I can't believe you've actually seen Wicked."
Puck shrugged. "Snuck my little sister in to see it for her birthday. She ended up playing nothing but that soundtrack on repeat for months. I only managed to get her to knock it off by convincing her it made my ears bleed. Ketchup in your ears is not a fun experience, man."
"...That's both sweet and somewhat horrifying."
But despite his words, Kurt was actually smiling, and that was enough for Puck.
* * *
Puck didn't notice the time fly by for the next couple of hours. Noticing the passage of time was considerably less important than discovering a previously unseen side of Kurt. Sure, the guy had a closet bigger than Puck's bedroom, but he also had a kickass entertainment center in his basement. Playing X-Box on Finn's tiny bedroom TV stood no comparison to practically having his ears blasted off every time he gunned an enemy down.
It was totally awesome.
He had no idea that Kurt could be so normal. Typical video-game-playing-guy normal. And he got surprisingly into it, alternately grunting and shrieking throughout the gameplay. When Puck questioned him about it, he'd just shrugged and admitted that his gal pals had no interest in playing Halo with him unless it involved rocking out to Beyoncé, so he usually just played online-multiplayer games by himself. And since he was used to being alone when he played, he'd formed a habit of letting go and making as much noise about it as he wanted. To Puck, this was endlessly entertaining. He'd even intentionally had a friendly fire "accident" just to get a rise out of Kurt.
When nearly two hours had passed, Kurt's cell phone rang. "Dad, hi! Yeah, actually I'm home, Puck gave me a ride. We're playing Halo. No, the video game. Yeah, the car's still in the school parking lot. Could you tow it to the garage for me? Thanks. Sure, I'll make dinner. See you soon." He hung up to find Puck staring at him. "What?"
He shrugged. "I saw you messing with your car after school. Didn't realize you were such a grease monkey, Hummel."
Kurt just rolled his eyes. "Just because I happen to enjoy nice clothes doesn't mean I'm a porcelain doll, Noah. My dad owns a garage. I grew up around cars, so of course I picked up a thing or two over the years. By the way, dad said to invite you to stay for dinner."
Puck nodded, "Sounds good. Need any help with that?"
The two soon found themselves in the kitchen, and Puck didn't say anything when Kurt pulled out some vegetables, eggs, cheese, potatoes, onions and bacon. "Dad really likes breakfast for dinner, and I usually won't make it. Too much grease. But, well, today started off as a pretty rough day, and it's not that bad to have once in a while," he explained, and finished with a vague smile.
Puck heard his mother's voice in the back of his head, ranting about the virtues of Judaism and all its laws and customs, but he just couldn't bring himself to remove that smile from Kurt's face, slight as it was. Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't eaten non-kosher before - cafeteria mystery meat pretty much assured that much. So he just returned the smile and started cracking eggs for an omelet.
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