Cool
Title: Cool
Author: amaXdear
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Summary: Puck and Kurt have a little discussion about being cool, and growing up. Pure dialogue, fluff.
A/N: I have no excuse. I blame Christmas cookies and sugar.
“I’m never getting rid of it, you know.”
“Yes you are. Eventually.”
“Nope.”
“Of course you will.”
“Hmm…”
“…”
“…”
“Seriously, though--”
“Hey, do you mind? I was enjoying that!”
“Noah, I refuse to make out with someone who seriously believes that he’s going to have a mohawk for the rest of his life!”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s-- it’s just ridiculous.”
“…”
“Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know how you meant it.”
“Noah--just think about it. What are you going to do when you get too old for it?”
“I won’t be! I’ll be the coolest dude in the nursing home! I mean, how embarrassed would you be if you were hanging around with your designer walker and people kept asking you why you were with someone so boring? Don’t you want to date the coolest dude in the nursing home?”
“It won’t be cool anym--”
“Mohawks will always be cool!”
“Not when your hair starts to turn grey and it looks like a skunk stripe!”
“… It’ll match my old-classic-rocker look.”
“Your rocker look won’t last forever, once you stop carrying your guitar everywhere because of arthritis.”
“My nipple ring and my tattoo will last forever.”
“They will n-- you have a tattoo?”
“Well, no, not yet. I want to go to a good places, and the good places always check ID.”
“You’re seriously planning on getting a tattoo?”
“Yeah.”
“Of what?”
“Not sure yet. I was thinking like, my name in between two goal posts.”
“Is that a joke?”
“No.”
“Okay. If you get that tattoo, then I can promise you that you will never see me naked again.”
“What if I got your name instead?”
“No!”
“What if I got the lyrics to Defying Gravity or something?”
“That might be okay. But you wouldn’t do it.”
“No, I wouldn’t. I could get a black stripe from my neck--like, continue the mohawk all the way down my back.”
“A mohawk going from the top of your forehead all the way down to the middle of your ass? Yeah, that will look fantastic.”
“You complimented it, that means I have permission.”
“Sarcasm negates the compliment.”
“You still said it.”
“How about this: you don’t get a tattoo, and I’ll let you keep the nipple ring until your hundredth birthday.”
“Wait--you weren’t going to let me keep the nipple ring?”
“It will scar the grandkids for life.”
“Our grandkids will be awesome enough to deal with it. Besides--”
“What are you doing?!”
“I’m just going to remind you how much you love my nipple ring.”
“How?”
“The usual, play with it until you get hard. Which takes about five seconds, last time I checked--”
“Put your shirt back on! My dad’s upstairs!”
“Are you going to admit that the nipple ring is hot, or do I have to do this some--”
“It’s hot, okay! Now get dressed.”
“All right, all right, I’m dressed. Sheesh.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you hard yet?”
“No. shut up. You’re not keeping the nipple ring after college.”
“Fine, then I won’t go to college, and we’ll be puttering around our nursing home, embarrassed to be seen with each other, because I’m going to have a mohawk and a nipple ring and a cool tattoo so all the old cougars and old gay guys are going to try and slip me Viagra and lock me in their rooms, and you’re going to be wasting our retirement fund on stupid designer clothes with shoulder pads and make me jealous because all of the butchy old gays are going to offer you prune juice and crap, and you’ll go around slapping everyone who wears their pants over their belly button, and it won’t matter that you buy them nice dresses and shirts and stuff our grandchildren are still going to like me better because I can play the guitar and I’m not going to get arthritis or go bald, so there!”
“…”
“…”
“… I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Author: amaXdear
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Summary: Puck and Kurt have a little discussion about being cool, and growing up. Pure dialogue, fluff.
A/N: I have no excuse. I blame Christmas cookies and sugar.
“I’m never getting rid of it, you know.”
“Yes you are. Eventually.”
“Nope.”
“Of course you will.”
“Hmm…”
“…”
“…”
“Seriously, though--”
“Hey, do you mind? I was enjoying that!”
“Noah, I refuse to make out with someone who seriously believes that he’s going to have a mohawk for the rest of his life!”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s-- it’s just ridiculous.”
“…”
“Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know how you meant it.”
“Noah--just think about it. What are you going to do when you get too old for it?”
“I won’t be! I’ll be the coolest dude in the nursing home! I mean, how embarrassed would you be if you were hanging around with your designer walker and people kept asking you why you were with someone so boring? Don’t you want to date the coolest dude in the nursing home?”
“It won’t be cool anym--”
“Mohawks will always be cool!”
“Not when your hair starts to turn grey and it looks like a skunk stripe!”
“… It’ll match my old-classic-rocker look.”
“Your rocker look won’t last forever, once you stop carrying your guitar everywhere because of arthritis.”
“My nipple ring and my tattoo will last forever.”
“They will n-- you have a tattoo?”
“Well, no, not yet. I want to go to a good places, and the good places always check ID.”
“You’re seriously planning on getting a tattoo?”
“Yeah.”
“Of what?”
“Not sure yet. I was thinking like, my name in between two goal posts.”
“Is that a joke?”
“No.”
“Okay. If you get that tattoo, then I can promise you that you will never see me naked again.”
“What if I got your name instead?”
“No!”
“What if I got the lyrics to Defying Gravity or something?”
“That might be okay. But you wouldn’t do it.”
“No, I wouldn’t. I could get a black stripe from my neck--like, continue the mohawk all the way down my back.”
“A mohawk going from the top of your forehead all the way down to the middle of your ass? Yeah, that will look fantastic.”
“You complimented it, that means I have permission.”
“Sarcasm negates the compliment.”
“You still said it.”
“How about this: you don’t get a tattoo, and I’ll let you keep the nipple ring until your hundredth birthday.”
“Wait--you weren’t going to let me keep the nipple ring?”
“It will scar the grandkids for life.”
“Our grandkids will be awesome enough to deal with it. Besides--”
“What are you doing?!”
“I’m just going to remind you how much you love my nipple ring.”
“How?”
“The usual, play with it until you get hard. Which takes about five seconds, last time I checked--”
“Put your shirt back on! My dad’s upstairs!”
“Are you going to admit that the nipple ring is hot, or do I have to do this some--”
“It’s hot, okay! Now get dressed.”
“All right, all right, I’m dressed. Sheesh.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you hard yet?”
“No. shut up. You’re not keeping the nipple ring after college.”
“Fine, then I won’t go to college, and we’ll be puttering around our nursing home, embarrassed to be seen with each other, because I’m going to have a mohawk and a nipple ring and a cool tattoo so all the old cougars and old gay guys are going to try and slip me Viagra and lock me in their rooms, and you’re going to be wasting our retirement fund on stupid designer clothes with shoulder pads and make me jealous because all of the butchy old gays are going to offer you prune juice and crap, and you’ll go around slapping everyone who wears their pants over their belly button, and it won’t matter that you buy them nice dresses and shirts and stuff our grandchildren are still going to like me better because I can play the guitar and I’m not going to get arthritis or go bald, so there!”
“…”
“…”
“… I love you.”
“I love you, too.”