Fic: This Is the Story of a Boy; Part IV: What If This Is Just the Beginning, chapter xv
Title: This Is the Story of a Boy; Part IV: What If This Is Just The Beginning, chapter xv (of xvii)
Author: patchfire
Rating: NC-17
Characters(s): Puck, Kurt, Finn, Puck/Kurt, Furt brothership
Genre: romance
Warnings: none
Spoilers: Canon compilant through 2x22
Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me. It'd be better if it did.
Author Notes: Some things defy all rational explanation. I feel like this story pouring out of me is one of them. Thank you for loving it. Also, thanks to the comments on the last chapter, I may have in fact created storyofthreeboys on twitter. For important things like 'spoilers' and 'casting leaks' and 'music leaks.' Um. TitSoaB on AO3.
Beta: My best girl, my raving_liberal, my Finn <3
Summary: This is the story of a boy; this is the story of three boys. Two brothers, two best friends, two lovers.
Summary for Part IV: Songs, texting, walks, meals, secrets: convincing.
Chapter Summary: Labor Day, and setting the gay agenda.
Word Count: 7369
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV, chapter i
Part IV, chapter ii
Part IV, chapter iii
Part IV, chapter iv
Part IV, chapter v
Part IV, chapter vi
Part IV, chapter vii
Part IV, chapter viii
Part IV, chapter ix
Part IV, chapter x
Part IV, chapter xi
Part IV, chapter xii
Part IV, chapter xiii
Part IV, chapter xiv
This Is the Story of a Boy
Part IV: What If This Is Just the Beginning
chapter xv
Somehow it becomes Puck's job to put the potato salad and dip in the Hudmel refrigerator while his mom and Hannah head straight out to the backyard. Puck rolls his eyes and sets about finding a place for the food, Finn leaning on the counter.
“You doing ok, man?” Finn says, with no preamble. “You look...tired.”
“I am tired,” Puck snorts. “I get up at 5 am six days a week.”
“Yeah, but you always look that kind of tired,” Finn answers. “This is different. You look, like, tired in your bones.”
Puck purses his lips and shrugs. “I dunno. Guess I hadn’t noticed.”
“I know this is probably the stupidest question ever, so you can just tell me to go to hell, but you need to talk about anything?”
“Um. I don’t think so?” Puck offers. “I don’t know, I can only be so self-aware, dude.” He grins.
Finn returns Puck’s smile and says, “Ok, cool. Didn’t want to intrude. Just, sometimes I get a feeling about things, you know? Usually wrong, but doesn’t hurt to ask, I guess. Anyway...go, enjoy the cookout, please, before my mom hauls out the damn boombox, will you?”
“Boombox? That does not sound promising.” Puck plucks a can of pop out of the refrigerator. “And, dude, just ‘cause you’re sometimes wrong doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take it seriously.”
Finn just smiles again and shrugs, then steers Puck in the direction of the backyard.
Kurt's leaning against the rail of the deck, his back to the house, and Puck steps up behind him, hands on Kurt's hips.
"Hey."
Kurt turns and smiles. "Hello, stranger." He straightens and slides his hands over Puck's forearms, then leans forward, pressing his lips to Puck's. Puck parts his lips slightly, letting his tongue barely brush against Kurt's lips before pulling back.
A small part of Puck expects something, some reaction. Sure, Finn's seen them kiss, and they've not kept their hands to themselves that well around their respective families, but Puck knows that kissing is a little different. Especially kissing like they're kissing, familiar but almost simmering. It's pleasantly liberating that there's nothing. Carole and Rina keep talking, Burt keeps throwing a football with Hannah and Finn. Kurt grins at him, almost like he knows what Puck's thinking, and kisses him again before sliding sideways and leaning against Puck's side.
"What did you bring?"
"Potato salad, dip, chips, and I think my mom brought more hot dogs."
"I swear the hot dogs are kosher," Kurt protests mildly.
"Oh yeah?" Puck challenges.
"God, I hope the ones called Hebrew National are," Kurt laughs.
"Okay, okay, good point," Puck joins in the laughter.
"You boys come toss the Frisbee with us," Burt calls.
"Oh, no." Puck clatters down the stairs, Kurt behind him. "Watch out, Kurt's got a mean arm."
"You're just bitter that I trounced you so thoroughly," Kurt replies with a sniff, then picks up one of the discs and flings it across the entire backyard-straight into Finn's surprised grasp. "See? It's not hard."
"Ouch." Finn shakes his hand. "Damn, Kurt."
"He did pretty much trounce me at disc golf," Puck admits.
"It was fun," Kurt shrugs. "We should see if there's a course closer."
"Are you talking about those weird things with the chains and baskets?"
"I suppose they could be characterized that way, yes."
"Yeah, then there's a course at Ottawa Park. And maybe down in Fort Shawnee." Finn shrugs. "I kinda always wondered what those were for."
"Now you know," Puck replies, flinging one of the discs in Hannah's direction.
Before too long, Carole's asking Burt to start the hamburgers, and Finn's been dispatched to go pick up (more) ice cream.
"Boys?" Carole calls out from her seat next to Rina. "Would you two mind starting to bring out the condiments?"
"Sure," Puck nods, and Kurt nods as well. Kurt drops the discs next to the stairs and heads inside, Puck sliding the door firmly closed behind them. "That was awfully nice of her."
"Oh?" Kurt's smiling, leaning against the wall.
"You don't think so?" Puck puts his hand just above Kurt's shoulder, leans in, and grins.
"Maybe you should demonstrate your reasoning."
"Oh?" Puck curls his other hand onto Kurt's hip, pulling him close, and leans his upper body to press his forehead against Kurt's. "Like this?" He brushes his mouth lightly over Kurt's, and Kurt's eyes flutter, pinning him when he pulls away.
"Now who's a tease?" Kurt breathes.
"I thought you said it wasn't teasing if there was follow-through?" Puck puts his mouth to Kurt's again, this time pressing hard, Kurt's lips yielding almost immediately as Puck darts his tongue into Kurt's mouth. Kurt's hand rests on the back of Puck's neck, preventing him from pulling away, which Puck doesn't particularly want to do anyway, his other hand mirroring Puck's, resting on Puck's hip.
As they continue kissing, Puck carefully untucks Kurt's shirt, sliding his fingers slowly under it until his palm is flat against Kurt's warm skin. Kurt pushes into the touch, his fingers curling against Puck's scalp. Puck's lost track of how long they've been kissing when he feels Kurt's fingers working on the button on his jeans, then slipping inside his jeans, into his underwear, and wrapping loosely around Puck's cock.
Puck does break their kiss, turning his head barely to the side. "Fuck, Kurt," he breathes, and a small part of his brain says that this is not the best place for this. He wraps both arms around Kurt and slides them down the wall and around the corner, so that they're at least not visible through the sliding glass door.
"Mmm," Kurt responds, reattaching his lips to Puck's and grasping Puck more firmly. He moves his hand up and down slowly, and Puck jerks his hips forward, pressing himself into Kurt and both of them into the wall. Kurt's thumb toys with the top of Puck's cock, dipping into the slit and back out, one finger circling just under the head with a featherlight touch. Kurt's hand is still holding Puck's head firmly, and then Kurt straightens, spinning them around and pushing Puck against the wall, switching their places.
Puck whimpers as Kurt's hand moves quicker, light but still firm, and Kurt's mouth moves away from Puck's, kissing a trail up his jawline and Puck's suddenly aware of the roughness scraping his cheek and he groans. Fuck. Kurt obviously remembers Puck's reaction, and clearly is willing to go unshaven for a few days. Puck moves his hand to cup Kurt's face, reveling in the wiry scruff contrasting with Kurt's smooth skin. Kurt tilts his head into Puck's hand, giving Puck a lazy, smug smile, still working his hand over Puck's erection. Puck knows he won't last long, not with the look Kurt's giving him, and Puck buries his face in Kurt's neck, drawing in his smell. Kurt's fingers tighten around him, pumping faster, and Puck lets out a strangled groan as he comes into Kurt's hand. He sags against the wall, Kurt's other hand under his shoulder. Kurt carefully cleans his own hand, making Puck whimper again, and then fastens Puck's jeans before kissing him slowly, holding Puck's hand against his cheek.
"You're so fucking hot," Puck murmurs, scraping his own cheek against Kurt's. "The things you do to me…"
There's a scraping noise in the hall, and they both straighten, separating slightly but not removing their eyes from each other. A moment later, Finn walks in, depositing the ice cream into the freezer before turning to them with a smile. "Hey, guys."
"Finn," Kurt says calmly, nodding. "No trouble finding the ice cream?"
"I had to get mint chocolate chip instead of regular chocolate chip, but Mom likes it almost as much."
Kurt nods and moves to the refrigerator. "We should, uh, get that stuff out there," he says to Puck, who moves towards him, holding his hands out for the ketchup, mustard, and relish.
"Yeah. Good plan." Puck loads up his arms and walks out the sliding glass door behind Kurt, already contemplating how he can get Kurt alone again, and get his hands on him.
Once back outside, Burt commandeers Kurt into taking charge of the hot dogs, and Puck finds himself pressed into service bringing load after load of food, plates, and utensils onto the back deck. Carole's fixed even more food than she did for the brunch, and Puck exchanges a grin with Finn and Kurt both at the size of the spread.
"I think we should all rest for a bit before we have dessert," Carole suggests after most of the food has been consumed (including the oh-so-unkosher barbecue beans). "Rina, you want to see what's on television while the kids clean up?"
"Sure." Puck's mom gets up and fixes Hannah with a look. "That means you, too. You can collect all the trash while the boys take care of the other stuff."
"Yes, Mom," Hannah sighs, and Puck only has to prod her twice before she starts pitching in.
"I'm gonna take a nap."
"I'm going to find Mom."
"I was going to rest, too. You boys keep an eye on the coals?"
"Sure, Dad."
"Sure thing."
Kurt grins and turns to Puck. "No, that was nice of them."
Puck chuckles. "C'mere." He drops into a chair and Kurt sits on top of his legs. Puck places sloppy open-mouthed kisses up and down Kurt's jaw, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist when Kurt squirms.
"Stop," Kurt giggles. "I'll have to… uh. Forego shaving more often."
"Mmm-hmm," Puck agrees. "You should." He runs his tongue slowly over Kurt's cheek, ignoring Kurt's attempts to turn his face away. "Dead sexy."
Kurt buries his face in Puck's neck and then slowly drags his cheek up Puck's neck and across his cheek. "Oh?"
"Yeah." Puck slides one hand back to the front of Kurt's pants, cupping the bulge in them. "But." He kisses Kurt again, parting Kurt's lips with an insistent tongue. "Right now." Another kiss. "Something else." He squeezes his hand, and Kurt presses his lips together and pushes up with his hips.
"Right here?" he squeaks after a minute.
"Right here," Puck confirms. "No one else is around. It smells good." Puck puts his face to Kurt's and inhales. "You smell good. And you're gonna come for me." He smirks at Kurt, who reddens at the very last sentence.
Kurt runs his tongue along his lips and nods, reaching for his pants and unfastening them slowly, eyes on Puck the entire time. Eventually, he frees his erection, and Puck reaches for it immediately, palming it. Kurt hisses a little, drawing his breath. "Puck…"
"Mmmhmm." Puck murmurs, lips against Kurt's cheek. "S'right." He curls his fingers around Kurt's cock and pumps it. "Not gonna take long, are you?" He chuckles, hand spreading the already-leaking fluid around.
"No." Kurt shakes his head, pressing himself into Puck's hand. "Faster," he gasps out as Puck slows his hand.
"Okay," Puck nods, moving his hand more quickly, increasing the pressure, and moves his mouth back to Kurt's. Kurt pushes his tongue into Puck's mouth immediately, his hips rolling towards Puck's hand. Puck pulls Kurt closer with his arm and his fingers tighten around Kurt, and Puck feels Kurt stiffen, his muscles clenching and contracting underneath Puck's arm. Another few seconds, and Kurt pulls his mouth from Puck's, his head falling back as he moans, coming into Puck's hand.
Puck closes the distance between their mouths again as Kurt slides against him, then brings his hand up to his mouth. Kurt watches him closely and smiles, then stands and pulls himself back together. "That was better than a nap," Kurt says after a moment, grinning.
"Yeah it was," Puck laughs. He stands, too, and pulls Kurt into a hug, holding him tightly for a long moment. "Just making sure you worked up an appetite for dessert," he whispers into Kurt's ear, and Kurt giggles.
They sit on the stairs of the deck, twirling a disc on their fingers, until the others reemerge from the house, Burt and Finn laden with ice cream, Carole carrying an enormous peach-plum cobbler. "Thanks for staying out here with the coals," Burt says with a nod. "Hope it wasn't too boring."
"It was fine, Dad," Kurt assures him, turning to help Carole dish the cobbler. Finn stands stock-still behind Burt with a bright red face, and Puck raises an eyebrow. Finn clamps a hand over his mouth, and Puck bites the inside of his cheek to keep from otherwise reacting. He supposes that by the time he thought that he hoped Finn nor Burt were looking out their windows, it was already too late.
"Are you okay, Finn?" Rina says after a moment, and Finn coughs.
"Yeah, uh. Bug. In my throat. Awful." He coughs a few more times, and Puck turns to look away to keep himself from laughing. He's pretty sure Kurt would be mortified; Puck's not exactly embarrassed, but yeah, he'd prefer if Finn hadn't seen anything, either.
"So, you two gave me an idea," Burt says with a nod, "maybe we should all go over and try this disc golf thing. We can clean up the rest of this later."
"Sounds cool," Finn nods. "We can just go over to Ottawa Park, right?"
"It does sound like fun," Carole agrees. "Rina, Hannah, what do you think?"
"Cool!" Hannah exclaims, and Rina nods.
"Great. You two can show us the ropes, so to speak."
Kurt ends up jamming everyone into his car for the ten minute ride, and Puck's more than a little smug that no one even tries to sit shotgun, even though he ends up being the last person to climb inside. Finn, Hannah, and Burt squeeze into the very back, and his mom and Carole sit in the middle. It takes a few minutes to figure out where to start, and for everyone to play through a hole, but by the time they've reached the fourth hole, the others have given up on winning against Kurt.
Kurt just shrugs and smiles smugly, firing off the disc with precision, and he does indeed trounce them all soundly. Burt's smile is nearly as smug, and Finn just looks astonished. Puck has to walk with his hands in his pockets when he's not throwing the disc, and definitely has to stop himself from kissing Kurt a time or two.
Sometimes, Lima really sucks.
Once they return to the Hudmel household, Puck's mom decides it's time for them to go home, and Puck doesn't even make it back inside the house, forcing him to say good-bye to Kurt on the porch as people walk down the street and drive by. He resists the urge to glare at… the world, really, and Kurt takes his hand, squeezing it. "Be good."
"I'm always good," Puck says with a grin, and then launches himself over the railing and climbs in his mom's car.
Sometimes, saying good night is like ripping off a band-aid.
Finn is standing on the deck scrubbing the crud off the grill when Kurt comes back out through the sliding glass door.
“Oh, hey, Kurt,” Finn says, waving with the Brillo pad. “You and Puck have a nice time tonight?”
“Mmmhmm,” Kurt replies with a nod, smiling slightly. “You want me to grab the grill utensils?”
“Sure, man, thanks,” Finn says, then pauses in his scrubbing. “So, everything ok with Puck? I mean, I know everything’s not totally ok with the whole situation, but he seems kinda bone-tired. Like, really weary.”
Kurt tilts his head one way and then the other. “It’s... you and I both know that he’s working not for extra movies, but to help out his mom, at least partially. And then add in school and glee club and football, plus everything else?” Kurt shrugs. “Wouldn’t you be tired?”
“I’m tired just thinking about it,” Finn sighs. “There’s no way he’s gonna be able to keep that up, Kurt.”
“I know,” Kurt admits with a frown. “But would you like to be the one to convince him?”
Finn snorts a little laugh and flashes the half-smile Kurt has come to know well. “Not really, no. I tried talking to him, but, well, he’s still Puck.”
“Yes, well,” Kurt sighs, managing to make it both exasperated and fond at the same time. “He is.”
“So--and please don’t get pissed at me for asking this, ok?--how are you holding up with all of this?”
Kurt rolls his eyes a little at the first part of Finn’s questions, but smiles and then shrugs. “I-I don’t know. I’m just trying to take it as it comes. I don’t want to wish away this last year, as much as I, well, I do.” He shakes his head, as if to clear it.
Finn smiles a little sadly. “It’s so different for you guys. I know you’re not running away from us, and I understand why you want to leave, but...I kind of want this year to last as long as possible.”
“I know,” Kurt sighs. “Part of me wants the same thing. The rest of me just wants to let my guard down.”
“I don’t know how you do it. I don’t know how you don’t walk around just hating everybody sometimes. You’re just...man, I walk around hating them sometimes, and I’m not even the one who’s having to hide anything.”
“I guess it’s like anything-you do what you have to do.” Kurt smiles a little. “People as a group are generally the issue rather than specific individuals, you know? There are always exceptionally awful people to break that rule, but. I try to remember it.”
“People really suck sometimes,” Finn says. “Do you really think it’s that much better somewhere else?” He looks a little wistful, and Kurt remembers that Finn never was the one who wanted to go that far from home.
“Part of it is anonymity. I can drive for forty-five minutes on 75 and find myself in a town that may be equally intolerant of its own, but the guy passing through? He’s fine. But, yes. I walked around New York City without... I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t mind standing out for a lot of things, but yes, it was nice to not stand out.”
“I’d probably have to move to some place to New York to find a place where I do stand out,” Finn says, smiling wryly. “I’m just so...Lima, you know? I know it sucks for you guys, but I sometimes envy...” Finn trails off and looks away.
“What?” Kurt asks curiously. “Not everyone has to have the same dreams, Finn. One dream isn’t better than another.”
“Yeah, but some are bigger, aren’t they?” Finn says, still staring out across the lawn. “And what does it say about somebody who doesn’t even want to dream big?”
“That he or she will find himself or herself much more content much more easily,” Kurt answers. “Instead of constantly searching.”
“Hey, Kurt? Can I ask you something and you tell me the truth about it?” Finn asks.
“I’ll try,” Kurt says with a nod.
“Do you really think I’m gonna end up in Lima forever? Like how Rachel thinks I am?”
“No.” Kurt’s answer is immediate and the confidence with which he answers surprises even him a little. “I don’t know where you’ll be, Finn, but.” Kurt pauses, gathering his thoughts. “You-you’re going to follow. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but you’ll find your way that way. I think.”
“I really have no idea what that means, but, thanks,” Finn says, finally looking over at Kurt and giving him the warmest smile he can muster. “If you think I’m getting out of here, well, it’s probably true, then.”
“Besides, I have all these plans for my nieces and/or nephews,” Kurt adds, “and they’d be hard to implement if a couple of plane rides were required every time I wanted to see them.”
Finn grins and this time, he’s the one who rolls his eyes. “Cart ahead of the horse, bro,” Finn says. “Pretty sure I’m not popping out any babies any time soon. Or, you know, ever. By myself, I mean.”
Kurt laughs. “If you do, at least you’ll be able to sell your story to the National Enquirer. But I am confident that you will not deprive me of the joy of spoiling children that are not mine, and then returning them to you, full of sugar and bad language.”
“Bad language? I guess they’ll be learning that part from Puck, huh?”
Kurt ducks his head and feels his cheeks redden. “You doubt my ability to provide the sugar?” he finally responds.
“They’ll have you for the sugar, Puck for the language, and just try to send them home bathed, ok? My imaginary wife and I don’t like stinky kids.”
“Oh, no, bathing is a parental activity. We’ll throw them in the lake or pool, though. Good enough?”
Finn is laughing for real now. “Garden hose, maybe? Compromise? Wait...do they have garden hoses in New York City?”
“Fire hydrants.”
“Oh, yeah. You can let them run through that, like the kids on TV. My imaginary wife and I approve.”
“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” Kurt says dryly. “I would hate as an uncle to do anything that you wouldn’t approve of. No, wait, actually,” Kurt smirks. “I wouldn’t really care, would I?”
Finn just pats his brother on the back affectionately. “My stinky kids and I will just have to take what we get, I guess.”
“Yes, yes you will,” Kurt says, mock-haughtily, and picks up the remainder of the stuff to take inside.
Even though it's late for him, Puck can't seem to fall asleep, and he finally sits in front of his computer, composing a short email to Kurt.
And I wanted you to know… http://www.bluestraveler.com/albums/straight-on-till-morning/yours/
I don't expect a reply. But it's true.
He hits send and grabs his phone, sending a text.
Check ur email. xx
He sets his phone down and exhales, then climbs back into bed. He falls asleep almost immediately.
Kurt can't stop listening to the song.
He's thinking about going to bed when the text message comes, and he immediately checks his email and then clicks on the link.
The first time through, he reads the lyrics carefully.
Then he feels his chest ache, the second time.
By the third time, tears fall from his eyes, unchecked.
He's been so hesitant, so afraid. So scared of doing it wrong, of getting hurt.
But lying in his bed, song on repeat, earbuds in, he knows, deep in his brain, that it's too late.
If anyone or anything were to take Puck away from him now, he'd be utterly lost.
He still doesn't understand, not the way that everyone else seems to intuitively know. In love or not in love. He always thought there would be a sign.
Maybe there's no sign. Maybe there's no instant.
Maybe it's just the pure physical pain at the thought of not having Puck.
The thought of somehow hurting Puck.
The thought that he might be hurting Puck, while he figures all of this out.
It's an unbearable ache, and he finds another song on his phone.
Does he really not know love at all? Or is he letting fear win?
He's stumbling around in the dark, but his eyes are starting to adjust.
Puck almost doesn't remember sending Kurt the text or the email. Kurt's only reply was two letters texted almost an hour after Puck fell asleep-xx.
Because of the holiday, there's a delivery in the middle of his two and a half hours at work, and he's running seriously late by the time he ducks into the bathroom and changes clothes. He throws his manager a smile of appreciation as she passes him the two cups of coffee and then heads out the door.
Kurt looks as tired as Puck feels, and they exchange sympathetic glances over their respective cups of coffee before Kurt takes Puck's hand and drives towards school-the long way.
"We're already late," Kurt offers at Puck's inquisitive look. "We might as well finish our coffee before we get marked tardy."
"Good point." Puck rests his head against the seat back. "We had a stupid delivery this morning. Remind me never to work opening after a holiday again."
"Ugh," Kurt makes a face and nods. "I forgot about the PFLAG meeting, so I spent the last hour attempting to devise an agenda."
"That's today? Oh, right."
"Yes, so I had to set the gay agenda," Kurt says wryly.
Puck laughs. "Take over the world, right? 'Cause that's the one I signed up for."
The parking lot's deserted by the time they pull into the lot, five minutes past the bell, and they each hurry to class.
"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Puckerman. I assume you're ready to turn in your essay?"
"Sorry, ma'am. Yes." Puck fumbles with his bags, still carrying his clothes around as well, and withdraws his essay, taking it up to the teacher's desk. She stops him as class ends.
"I can withhold marking your tardy if you have a legitimate excuse, Mr. Puckerman."
"I got held up at work," Puck explains. "Normally the delivery comes on Monday afternoons, but because of the holiday, the guy came at seven, in the middle of shift change at the hospital, so, yeah. I got out late."
"You go to work in the morning before school?"
"Uh. Yes, ma'am. At Starbucks."
She purses her lips. "I've heard stories about you, Mr. Puckerman, but none of them have matched the young man in my class. Your tardy won't be marked. If you're late in the future, please ask your manager to sign something."
"Uh. Thanks. Really. Thank you." Puck hurries out of the room before she can change her mind, because he can't remember the last time a teacher that wasn't Schue gave him the benefit of the doubt.
Ms. Pillsbury has set up for the PFLAG meeting in a classroom near her office, and everyone in the choir room troops over to it when the bell rings at the end of fourth period, sweaty and laughing from more dancing. Finn carries three plates of food, and Puck absently wonders how Carole finds the time to cook so often.
David Karofsky is already in the room, looking nervous, along with three kids that look so tiny Puck's sure they must be freshmen. Another five kids, a mix of sophomores and juniors, come in before the bell rings, and then they all grab seats, the glee club kids purposely sitting in between and beside some of the others.
"Well, as you all know, I'm Ms. Pillsbury, and I'll be attending these meetings, but we're really going to leave the running of the club up to all of you. Kurt?"
Kurt flashes a smile at Ms. Pillsbury and everyone's attention turns towards him. Puck takes the chance to really look at him, because the morning was hurried and the physics lecture a little confusing even with most of their attention.
He's wearing a khaki suit with a bright red t-shirt underneath it and, Puck notes with a pleased smirk, a dark purple print scarf around his neck. He's added a straw hat during the walk from the choir room to the meeting (and Puck wonders how he managed that, really), and the white grosgrain ribbon around it matches the white loafers on his feet.
Puck feels a little underdressed, like he's not really advancing the gay agenda very well. He frowns for a minute. At least he's not wearing a striped boxy polo shirt.
"Hello." Kurt smiles, a little nervously. "So, I thought we'd start by introducing ourselves. Your name-first name only is fine, if you prefer-and if you'd like to say what year you are, why you're here, anything like that." He exhales and turns to his left, where Rachel is sitting. "Rachel, why don't you start?"
"Hi!" Rachel beams. "For those of you that don't know me, I'm Rachel Berry. I'm a senior, and I'm here because I have two gay dads. And, of course, I have several friends who consider themselves GBLTQ." She finishes with a grin and a little shrug.
Most of the first half of the room introduces themselves at some length, and Puck starts to feel a little uncomfortable. Then it's Finn's turn. "Hi." He smiles. "I'm Finn." Then he turns to look at the freshman sitting next to him. "Your turn."
There are a few more lengthy introductions, but there are some simple ones interspersed, including both Santana's and Brittany's. Then it's Puck's turn. "Yo." He nods once. "I'm Puck." He turns and raises an eyebrow at Mike, who nods.
"I'm Mike," he says, and turns to Karofsky.
"I'm David Karofsky. I'm a senior, and uh, I'm here for a lot of reasons." He chews on his lip and plays with the sleeve of his jacket. "Uh, that's it."
The introductions continue around the room until they come back to Kurt. "Hello again. I'm Kurt, and I'm here for many reasons, but first and foremost, because I'm gay." It's the first time anyone in the room has explicitly admitted to being GLBTQ during the meeting, and Puck notices a few of the freshmen have wide eyes. Kurt smiles gently and doesn't force them to meet his eyes. "And yes, it gets easier every time you say it."
There's a little nervous laughter, and Kurt scans the room with his eyes. "Would you tell us?" one of the wide-eyed freshmen asks. "About… coming out?"
Kurt blinks and looks surprised. "If… you really want to hear it?" There are nods and noises of agreement around the room, so Kurt shrugs and begins. "There was a time I… tried to deny I was gay." There's gentle laughter around the room, and Kurt smirks. "I know, I know. And I've known for a very long time. A very long time. But about two years ago, I started coming out." He turns and grins at Mercedes. "Come here, 'Cedes."
Mercedes gets up and crosses the room, and Kurt stands, giving her a one-armed hug. "Mercedes was actually the first person I ever told. It was terrifying. After it was over, though, I felt… freer. A little lighter. Still. One person is not the world." Kurt gives Mercedes a full hug, and then she sits down.
Kurt tilts his head inquisitively. "How many of you actually know when I came out to my dad?"
There's a lot of shaking of heads, but no raised hands, not even Finn's, so Puck keeps his down.
"Well. After my brief but brilliant performance as kicker for the McKinley football team, which included dancing to 'Single Ladies,' my father was, as you might imagine, quite proud. And as I was getting ready for bed that night, I just-told him. He told me he'd known since I was three." Kurt smiles wryly. "That may have been the last person I told explicitly. In fact, I distinctly remember denying it flat-out a week or so before that." He shoots a look at Finn, who laughs.
"Yeah, bro, I didn't believe you."
Kurt rolls his eyes and smiles. "Of course not. But anyway. Once I told my dad, I stopped denying it, anyway. It wasn't long before I was firmly known as 'that gay kid.' I can't imagine why." He shrugs to laughter. "But not everyone that's gay is going to be, well. A walking stereotype."
One of the sophomores, a girl, speaks up. "My brother played football and ran track, and everyone always talked about how his girlfriends would be really lucky. No one ever thought he was gay." She shrugs. "But now that he's out people claim they suspected all along. I know they didn't. Why would they say that?"
"I think sometimes people have that… what is it called again?" Finn looks helplessly at Rachel and then Kurt. "That diss thing?"
"Cognitive dissonance?" Rachel supplies.
"Yeah, that! Thanks, Rach." Finn grins. "They change their own memories to make them fit what they want to think now."
"Yeah, I went back and looked at our freshman yearbook over the summer," Tina confesses, "and there are a lot of things I thought I remembered about all of us that just weren't true." She shrugs with a smile.
The conversation turns to ways for allies to offer support, and Karofsky clears his throat. "Um, back in the spring, Santana had me watch all these videos, the It Gets Better project. There are a lot of them. Pixar, all these singing groups, a lot of celebrities, even the President."
"And they talk about the Trevor Project," Santana adds. "There's a website- just the Trevor Project, dot org-and a toll-free number, too. It's suicide prevention for GLBTQ teens and young adults," she explains quietly.
"Our suicide statistics aren't pretty," Kurt continues. "GLBTQ youth are two to three times as likely to attempt suicide as our straight peers. One of the most important things that allies can do is make sure your friends, gay or straight, know that you are to listen to them, no matter what. No judgment." Kurt looks around the room, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Give them the chance to open the closet door. If they want to. Don't nail it shut. Don't force it open or kick it down, either."
There's silence in the room for a long moment before the bell rings, and everyone quietly stands, some grabbing more food before leaving. Puck stands awkwardly, hands jammed into his pockets, because damn, he's proud of Kurt right now. The room slowly empties, and Puck thinks that he's really gotten good at stalling as he helps put the chairs away and clear the food off the table. Finally, Karofsky walks off with Ms. Pillsbury, and Kurt walks down the hall with him towards the choir room.
"You didn't eat."
"I was nervous," Kurt admits.
"You were awesome. You did great. Better than great." Puck smiles and leans against the doorframe. "Let's go get dinner at Golden Corral or something. All you can eat."
"Mmm. Good idea." Kurt smiles. "I'll meet you here after practice."
"'Kay. Be good."
"I'm always good."
Practice is brutal. Their first game is on Friday and for those of the team, like Puck, who haven't been coming to optional practices, Tuesday is their first practice in full pads. Beiste ends the practice with five laps in full gear, and Puck practically empties a water bottle straight into his mouth before heading to the shower.
Finn's still in the shower when Puck finishes, but everyone else is almost out the door, and Puck dresses quickly. He shoulders his bags and makes sure he's emptied his locker when Finn comes around the corner finally. "You run out of water finally?"
"Haha. The water pressure's better here than at home. It's all environmentally-friendly or something at home."
Puck snorts."Later, dude."
"Later."
Kurt's waiting in the parking lot, perched on his back bumper, wearing the same outfit from earlier minus the hat and the suit jacket. Intellectually, Puck knows Kurt's been at his dad's shop working most of the afternoon, but there's literally not a hair out of place. How does he manage that?
Kurt hops down as Puck approaches. "How was practice?"
"Awful. Work?"
"Hot and boring. Why can't someone in Lima do something exciting when they ruin their car?"
"Like rip out their transmission?"
"Exactly!" Kurt flips the air conditioning to high and looks around the parking lot, then leans over, giving Puck a quick kiss. "Dinner?"
"Yes. Fuck, I'm starving."
"Me, too. All you can eat sounds like a brilliant plan right now." Kurt's silent for a moment before continuing. "You really think the meeting went well?"
"Yeah," Puck assures him. "It did. Hell, there were twenty-one people there. That alone was great. But I meant it. You were awesome. Even if we didn't take over the world yet."
"Today, McKinley, tomorrow the world," Kurt sighs with a grin.
"Today for you, tomorrow for me!" They laugh together as Puck quotes the movie. "Did you get marked tardy?"
Kurt snorts. "That would require the teacher to notice I was in the class, apparently. There are at least thirty of us and I don't think she noticed that I came in, or that I hadn't been there. You?"
Puck shakes his head. "No. It was kind of weird. Great, but still pretty weird."
"Yeah?"
"Well, I turned in my essay when I got there, and then she stopped me and asked why I was late, so I told her, and she said something about hearing stories about me but they didn't seem to be true and the worst part is now I feel a little bad about skipping first period the other day." Puck frowns and makes a face. "What's with that?"
"Poor Puck," Kurt laughs.
"I know!" Puck snorts as they pull into the parking lot. "Ohh, they've got steak 'cause it's dinnertime."
"Pretty sure they also have ham and maybe pork chops," Kurt teases, and Puck grins.
"Awesome."
The restaurant is surprisingly empty, and the two each fill a pair of plates on their first trip through the line.
"Hungry, boys?" the server asks, bringing their drinks.
"Pretty much always," Puck answers.
"Well, you two enjoy."
"Thank you."
"So," Kurt asks between bites, "what should we do at the next meeting?"
"Maybe show some of the It Gets Better videos? Some of them are really well-done. Okay, and some of them are really cheesy, too, but." Puck shrugs.
"Woody gets me every time," Kurt confesses.
They're eating dessert when Puck notices an odd expression on Kurt's face. "What? Do I have chocolate on my chin?"
Kurt visibly starts. "What? No. No, no. Just thinking."
"Don't hurt yourself." Puck flashes a smile, and Kurt laughs for a few seconds.
"I'll try not."
They're nearly back to Kurt's house when he makes a face, swearing.
"What's wrong?"
"I completely forgot, Finn's home."
"I thought it was Finnchel time on Tuesdays."
"Yeah, I thought so too, but he texted me while I was at work, I just forgot until now."
"Well." Puck sighs. "I guess we can hang out with Finn. Unless you'd rather me go on home."
"No," Kurt says quickly. "I mean, unless you need to or something."
"No, I'm good," Puck replies just as quickly.
"Finn?" Kurt calls as soon as they walk in through the garage door.
"In the living room," comes the answer. "You want some popcorn."
Kurt and Puck groan in unison. "Stuffed," Puck says, sitting in the recliner.
"Very stuffed." Kurt slides in front of the recliner, and Puck runs his hand gently through Kurt's hair.
"What'd you have for dinner?"
"Golden Corral."
"Oh, man, I bet that was awesome. I just had Burger King."
"Seriously? People voluntarily eat there?"
"Rachel likes their veggie burger."
"Yeah, well. We had steak. And pork chops."
"And fried chicken, and mashed potatoes and gravy."
"Not to mention the banana pudding and the ice cream."
Finn groans. "You two are mean. Very mean." He tosses popcorn in their direction, which makes Kurt shriek before pelting it back at him.
Finn lumbers to his feet, holding the bowl threateningly over Kurt's head. "No, no, we'll be good!" Kurt laughs, trying to cover his head.
Finn tilts the bowl, a few kernels spilling out, and Puck dives forward, bracing himself against the coffee table while Kurt cowers underneath, and then Puck winces as the kernels bounce off his back, tiny and surprisingly sharp.
"Finn!" Kurt and Puck exclaim together, and Finn just bursts into laughter as Puck straightens, shaking the layer of popcorn off his back. Puck pulls Kurt to his feet as they both step free of the popcorn mountain, which has a back-shaped void in the middle of it.
"I guess I should vacuum that up."
"Yes, you should." Kurt holds on to Puck's hand, seemingly poised for something, and when Finn walks out of the room to grab the vacuum, Puck puts it together. Kurt pulls Puck to the couch and manages to get them both comfortably on the couch, grab the remote, and change the channel, all before Finn gets back in the room.
"Hey," he frowns at the television, and then turns to frown at them on the couch. "Hey!"
"I'm sorry, did you need something?" Kurt asks sweetly, and Finn just makes a face and vacuums up the popcorn.
Kurt has his legs thrown over Puck's, and when Finn's attention turns to other things, Kurt uses one finger to turn Puck's chin towards him. Puck's pretty sure Kurt meant to just kiss him softly, but Puck can't help pushing his tongue against Kurt's lips, waiting for them to part, and he puts his hand on the back of Kurt's neck, holding him in place. Kurt's lips finally fall open, his tongue pressing against Puck's and into Puck's mouth, and Puck waits as long as he possibly can before pulling away momentarily.
"I've been wanting to do that all day," he mutters against Kurt's cheek, and Kurt nods slowly.
"I know the feeling."
Kurt leans his head against Puck's shoulder, and Puck wraps one arm around Kurt's waist, fingers splayed over the gentle rise and fall of Kurt's chest. Puck's not really sure what Finn was watching, but Kurt's landed it on one of the near-ubiquitous Friends re-runs. "Ooh, it's the one where Chandler and Monica first get together."
"I love that scene."
"I like the later seasons better," Finn offers as he sits down in the recliner. "Or the first season. Hey, did you know Rachel's dads named her after the show?"
"Should we start calling you Ross, dude?"
Finn just huffs, and Puck can feel Kurt quietly laughing. Puck spends the remainder of the episode alternating between paying a little attention and softly kissing Kurt's hair and forehead. Kurt lets out a sigh after a few minutes and presses more firmly against Puck, his muscles relaxing and melting into Puck's own.
For tonight, that's enough.
Author: patchfire
Rating: NC-17
Characters(s): Puck, Kurt, Finn, Puck/Kurt, Furt brothership
Genre: romance
Warnings: none
Spoilers: Canon compilant through 2x22
Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me. It'd be better if it did.
Author Notes: Some things defy all rational explanation. I feel like this story pouring out of me is one of them. Thank you for loving it. Also, thanks to the comments on the last chapter, I may have in fact created storyofthreeboys on twitter. For important things like 'spoilers' and 'casting leaks' and 'music leaks.' Um. TitSoaB on AO3.
Beta: My best girl, my raving_liberal, my Finn <3
Summary: This is the story of a boy; this is the story of three boys. Two brothers, two best friends, two lovers.
Summary for Part IV: Songs, texting, walks, meals, secrets: convincing.
Chapter Summary: Labor Day, and setting the gay agenda.
Word Count: 7369
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV, chapter i
Part IV, chapter ii
Part IV, chapter iii
Part IV, chapter iv
Part IV, chapter v
Part IV, chapter vi
Part IV, chapter vii
Part IV, chapter viii
Part IV, chapter ix
Part IV, chapter x
Part IV, chapter xi
Part IV, chapter xii
Part IV, chapter xiii
Part IV, chapter xiv
This Is the Story of a Boy
Part IV: What If This Is Just the Beginning
chapter xv
Somehow it becomes Puck's job to put the potato salad and dip in the Hudmel refrigerator while his mom and Hannah head straight out to the backyard. Puck rolls his eyes and sets about finding a place for the food, Finn leaning on the counter.
“You doing ok, man?” Finn says, with no preamble. “You look...tired.”
“I am tired,” Puck snorts. “I get up at 5 am six days a week.”
“Yeah, but you always look that kind of tired,” Finn answers. “This is different. You look, like, tired in your bones.”
Puck purses his lips and shrugs. “I dunno. Guess I hadn’t noticed.”
“I know this is probably the stupidest question ever, so you can just tell me to go to hell, but you need to talk about anything?”
“Um. I don’t think so?” Puck offers. “I don’t know, I can only be so self-aware, dude.” He grins.
Finn returns Puck’s smile and says, “Ok, cool. Didn’t want to intrude. Just, sometimes I get a feeling about things, you know? Usually wrong, but doesn’t hurt to ask, I guess. Anyway...go, enjoy the cookout, please, before my mom hauls out the damn boombox, will you?”
“Boombox? That does not sound promising.” Puck plucks a can of pop out of the refrigerator. “And, dude, just ‘cause you’re sometimes wrong doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take it seriously.”
Finn just smiles again and shrugs, then steers Puck in the direction of the backyard.
Kurt's leaning against the rail of the deck, his back to the house, and Puck steps up behind him, hands on Kurt's hips.
"Hey."
Kurt turns and smiles. "Hello, stranger." He straightens and slides his hands over Puck's forearms, then leans forward, pressing his lips to Puck's. Puck parts his lips slightly, letting his tongue barely brush against Kurt's lips before pulling back.
A small part of Puck expects something, some reaction. Sure, Finn's seen them kiss, and they've not kept their hands to themselves that well around their respective families, but Puck knows that kissing is a little different. Especially kissing like they're kissing, familiar but almost simmering. It's pleasantly liberating that there's nothing. Carole and Rina keep talking, Burt keeps throwing a football with Hannah and Finn. Kurt grins at him, almost like he knows what Puck's thinking, and kisses him again before sliding sideways and leaning against Puck's side.
"What did you bring?"
"Potato salad, dip, chips, and I think my mom brought more hot dogs."
"I swear the hot dogs are kosher," Kurt protests mildly.
"Oh yeah?" Puck challenges.
"God, I hope the ones called Hebrew National are," Kurt laughs.
"Okay, okay, good point," Puck joins in the laughter.
"You boys come toss the Frisbee with us," Burt calls.
"Oh, no." Puck clatters down the stairs, Kurt behind him. "Watch out, Kurt's got a mean arm."
"You're just bitter that I trounced you so thoroughly," Kurt replies with a sniff, then picks up one of the discs and flings it across the entire backyard-straight into Finn's surprised grasp. "See? It's not hard."
"Ouch." Finn shakes his hand. "Damn, Kurt."
"He did pretty much trounce me at disc golf," Puck admits.
"It was fun," Kurt shrugs. "We should see if there's a course closer."
"Are you talking about those weird things with the chains and baskets?"
"I suppose they could be characterized that way, yes."
"Yeah, then there's a course at Ottawa Park. And maybe down in Fort Shawnee." Finn shrugs. "I kinda always wondered what those were for."
"Now you know," Puck replies, flinging one of the discs in Hannah's direction.
Before too long, Carole's asking Burt to start the hamburgers, and Finn's been dispatched to go pick up (more) ice cream.
"Boys?" Carole calls out from her seat next to Rina. "Would you two mind starting to bring out the condiments?"
"Sure," Puck nods, and Kurt nods as well. Kurt drops the discs next to the stairs and heads inside, Puck sliding the door firmly closed behind them. "That was awfully nice of her."
"Oh?" Kurt's smiling, leaning against the wall.
"You don't think so?" Puck puts his hand just above Kurt's shoulder, leans in, and grins.
"Maybe you should demonstrate your reasoning."
"Oh?" Puck curls his other hand onto Kurt's hip, pulling him close, and leans his upper body to press his forehead against Kurt's. "Like this?" He brushes his mouth lightly over Kurt's, and Kurt's eyes flutter, pinning him when he pulls away.
"Now who's a tease?" Kurt breathes.
"I thought you said it wasn't teasing if there was follow-through?" Puck puts his mouth to Kurt's again, this time pressing hard, Kurt's lips yielding almost immediately as Puck darts his tongue into Kurt's mouth. Kurt's hand rests on the back of Puck's neck, preventing him from pulling away, which Puck doesn't particularly want to do anyway, his other hand mirroring Puck's, resting on Puck's hip.
As they continue kissing, Puck carefully untucks Kurt's shirt, sliding his fingers slowly under it until his palm is flat against Kurt's warm skin. Kurt pushes into the touch, his fingers curling against Puck's scalp. Puck's lost track of how long they've been kissing when he feels Kurt's fingers working on the button on his jeans, then slipping inside his jeans, into his underwear, and wrapping loosely around Puck's cock.
Puck does break their kiss, turning his head barely to the side. "Fuck, Kurt," he breathes, and a small part of his brain says that this is not the best place for this. He wraps both arms around Kurt and slides them down the wall and around the corner, so that they're at least not visible through the sliding glass door.
"Mmm," Kurt responds, reattaching his lips to Puck's and grasping Puck more firmly. He moves his hand up and down slowly, and Puck jerks his hips forward, pressing himself into Kurt and both of them into the wall. Kurt's thumb toys with the top of Puck's cock, dipping into the slit and back out, one finger circling just under the head with a featherlight touch. Kurt's hand is still holding Puck's head firmly, and then Kurt straightens, spinning them around and pushing Puck against the wall, switching their places.
Puck whimpers as Kurt's hand moves quicker, light but still firm, and Kurt's mouth moves away from Puck's, kissing a trail up his jawline and Puck's suddenly aware of the roughness scraping his cheek and he groans. Fuck. Kurt obviously remembers Puck's reaction, and clearly is willing to go unshaven for a few days. Puck moves his hand to cup Kurt's face, reveling in the wiry scruff contrasting with Kurt's smooth skin. Kurt tilts his head into Puck's hand, giving Puck a lazy, smug smile, still working his hand over Puck's erection. Puck knows he won't last long, not with the look Kurt's giving him, and Puck buries his face in Kurt's neck, drawing in his smell. Kurt's fingers tighten around him, pumping faster, and Puck lets out a strangled groan as he comes into Kurt's hand. He sags against the wall, Kurt's other hand under his shoulder. Kurt carefully cleans his own hand, making Puck whimper again, and then fastens Puck's jeans before kissing him slowly, holding Puck's hand against his cheek.
"You're so fucking hot," Puck murmurs, scraping his own cheek against Kurt's. "The things you do to me…"
There's a scraping noise in the hall, and they both straighten, separating slightly but not removing their eyes from each other. A moment later, Finn walks in, depositing the ice cream into the freezer before turning to them with a smile. "Hey, guys."
"Finn," Kurt says calmly, nodding. "No trouble finding the ice cream?"
"I had to get mint chocolate chip instead of regular chocolate chip, but Mom likes it almost as much."
Kurt nods and moves to the refrigerator. "We should, uh, get that stuff out there," he says to Puck, who moves towards him, holding his hands out for the ketchup, mustard, and relish.
"Yeah. Good plan." Puck loads up his arms and walks out the sliding glass door behind Kurt, already contemplating how he can get Kurt alone again, and get his hands on him.
Once back outside, Burt commandeers Kurt into taking charge of the hot dogs, and Puck finds himself pressed into service bringing load after load of food, plates, and utensils onto the back deck. Carole's fixed even more food than she did for the brunch, and Puck exchanges a grin with Finn and Kurt both at the size of the spread.
"I think we should all rest for a bit before we have dessert," Carole suggests after most of the food has been consumed (including the oh-so-unkosher barbecue beans). "Rina, you want to see what's on television while the kids clean up?"
"Sure." Puck's mom gets up and fixes Hannah with a look. "That means you, too. You can collect all the trash while the boys take care of the other stuff."
"Yes, Mom," Hannah sighs, and Puck only has to prod her twice before she starts pitching in.
"I'm gonna take a nap."
"I'm going to find Mom."
"I was going to rest, too. You boys keep an eye on the coals?"
"Sure, Dad."
"Sure thing."
Kurt grins and turns to Puck. "No, that was nice of them."
Puck chuckles. "C'mere." He drops into a chair and Kurt sits on top of his legs. Puck places sloppy open-mouthed kisses up and down Kurt's jaw, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist when Kurt squirms.
"Stop," Kurt giggles. "I'll have to… uh. Forego shaving more often."
"Mmm-hmm," Puck agrees. "You should." He runs his tongue slowly over Kurt's cheek, ignoring Kurt's attempts to turn his face away. "Dead sexy."
Kurt buries his face in Puck's neck and then slowly drags his cheek up Puck's neck and across his cheek. "Oh?"
"Yeah." Puck slides one hand back to the front of Kurt's pants, cupping the bulge in them. "But." He kisses Kurt again, parting Kurt's lips with an insistent tongue. "Right now." Another kiss. "Something else." He squeezes his hand, and Kurt presses his lips together and pushes up with his hips.
"Right here?" he squeaks after a minute.
"Right here," Puck confirms. "No one else is around. It smells good." Puck puts his face to Kurt's and inhales. "You smell good. And you're gonna come for me." He smirks at Kurt, who reddens at the very last sentence.
Kurt runs his tongue along his lips and nods, reaching for his pants and unfastening them slowly, eyes on Puck the entire time. Eventually, he frees his erection, and Puck reaches for it immediately, palming it. Kurt hisses a little, drawing his breath. "Puck…"
"Mmmhmm." Puck murmurs, lips against Kurt's cheek. "S'right." He curls his fingers around Kurt's cock and pumps it. "Not gonna take long, are you?" He chuckles, hand spreading the already-leaking fluid around.
"No." Kurt shakes his head, pressing himself into Puck's hand. "Faster," he gasps out as Puck slows his hand.
"Okay," Puck nods, moving his hand more quickly, increasing the pressure, and moves his mouth back to Kurt's. Kurt pushes his tongue into Puck's mouth immediately, his hips rolling towards Puck's hand. Puck pulls Kurt closer with his arm and his fingers tighten around Kurt, and Puck feels Kurt stiffen, his muscles clenching and contracting underneath Puck's arm. Another few seconds, and Kurt pulls his mouth from Puck's, his head falling back as he moans, coming into Puck's hand.
Puck closes the distance between their mouths again as Kurt slides against him, then brings his hand up to his mouth. Kurt watches him closely and smiles, then stands and pulls himself back together. "That was better than a nap," Kurt says after a moment, grinning.
"Yeah it was," Puck laughs. He stands, too, and pulls Kurt into a hug, holding him tightly for a long moment. "Just making sure you worked up an appetite for dessert," he whispers into Kurt's ear, and Kurt giggles.
They sit on the stairs of the deck, twirling a disc on their fingers, until the others reemerge from the house, Burt and Finn laden with ice cream, Carole carrying an enormous peach-plum cobbler. "Thanks for staying out here with the coals," Burt says with a nod. "Hope it wasn't too boring."
"It was fine, Dad," Kurt assures him, turning to help Carole dish the cobbler. Finn stands stock-still behind Burt with a bright red face, and Puck raises an eyebrow. Finn clamps a hand over his mouth, and Puck bites the inside of his cheek to keep from otherwise reacting. He supposes that by the time he thought that he hoped Finn nor Burt were looking out their windows, it was already too late.
"Are you okay, Finn?" Rina says after a moment, and Finn coughs.
"Yeah, uh. Bug. In my throat. Awful." He coughs a few more times, and Puck turns to look away to keep himself from laughing. He's pretty sure Kurt would be mortified; Puck's not exactly embarrassed, but yeah, he'd prefer if Finn hadn't seen anything, either.
"So, you two gave me an idea," Burt says with a nod, "maybe we should all go over and try this disc golf thing. We can clean up the rest of this later."
"Sounds cool," Finn nods. "We can just go over to Ottawa Park, right?"
"It does sound like fun," Carole agrees. "Rina, Hannah, what do you think?"
"Cool!" Hannah exclaims, and Rina nods.
"Great. You two can show us the ropes, so to speak."
Kurt ends up jamming everyone into his car for the ten minute ride, and Puck's more than a little smug that no one even tries to sit shotgun, even though he ends up being the last person to climb inside. Finn, Hannah, and Burt squeeze into the very back, and his mom and Carole sit in the middle. It takes a few minutes to figure out where to start, and for everyone to play through a hole, but by the time they've reached the fourth hole, the others have given up on winning against Kurt.
Kurt just shrugs and smiles smugly, firing off the disc with precision, and he does indeed trounce them all soundly. Burt's smile is nearly as smug, and Finn just looks astonished. Puck has to walk with his hands in his pockets when he's not throwing the disc, and definitely has to stop himself from kissing Kurt a time or two.
Sometimes, Lima really sucks.
Once they return to the Hudmel household, Puck's mom decides it's time for them to go home, and Puck doesn't even make it back inside the house, forcing him to say good-bye to Kurt on the porch as people walk down the street and drive by. He resists the urge to glare at… the world, really, and Kurt takes his hand, squeezing it. "Be good."
"I'm always good," Puck says with a grin, and then launches himself over the railing and climbs in his mom's car.
Sometimes, saying good night is like ripping off a band-aid.
Finn is standing on the deck scrubbing the crud off the grill when Kurt comes back out through the sliding glass door.
“Oh, hey, Kurt,” Finn says, waving with the Brillo pad. “You and Puck have a nice time tonight?”
“Mmmhmm,” Kurt replies with a nod, smiling slightly. “You want me to grab the grill utensils?”
“Sure, man, thanks,” Finn says, then pauses in his scrubbing. “So, everything ok with Puck? I mean, I know everything’s not totally ok with the whole situation, but he seems kinda bone-tired. Like, really weary.”
Kurt tilts his head one way and then the other. “It’s... you and I both know that he’s working not for extra movies, but to help out his mom, at least partially. And then add in school and glee club and football, plus everything else?” Kurt shrugs. “Wouldn’t you be tired?”
“I’m tired just thinking about it,” Finn sighs. “There’s no way he’s gonna be able to keep that up, Kurt.”
“I know,” Kurt admits with a frown. “But would you like to be the one to convince him?”
Finn snorts a little laugh and flashes the half-smile Kurt has come to know well. “Not really, no. I tried talking to him, but, well, he’s still Puck.”
“Yes, well,” Kurt sighs, managing to make it both exasperated and fond at the same time. “He is.”
“So--and please don’t get pissed at me for asking this, ok?--how are you holding up with all of this?”
Kurt rolls his eyes a little at the first part of Finn’s questions, but smiles and then shrugs. “I-I don’t know. I’m just trying to take it as it comes. I don’t want to wish away this last year, as much as I, well, I do.” He shakes his head, as if to clear it.
Finn smiles a little sadly. “It’s so different for you guys. I know you’re not running away from us, and I understand why you want to leave, but...I kind of want this year to last as long as possible.”
“I know,” Kurt sighs. “Part of me wants the same thing. The rest of me just wants to let my guard down.”
“I don’t know how you do it. I don’t know how you don’t walk around just hating everybody sometimes. You’re just...man, I walk around hating them sometimes, and I’m not even the one who’s having to hide anything.”
“I guess it’s like anything-you do what you have to do.” Kurt smiles a little. “People as a group are generally the issue rather than specific individuals, you know? There are always exceptionally awful people to break that rule, but. I try to remember it.”
“People really suck sometimes,” Finn says. “Do you really think it’s that much better somewhere else?” He looks a little wistful, and Kurt remembers that Finn never was the one who wanted to go that far from home.
“Part of it is anonymity. I can drive for forty-five minutes on 75 and find myself in a town that may be equally intolerant of its own, but the guy passing through? He’s fine. But, yes. I walked around New York City without... I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t mind standing out for a lot of things, but yes, it was nice to not stand out.”
“I’d probably have to move to some place to New York to find a place where I do stand out,” Finn says, smiling wryly. “I’m just so...Lima, you know? I know it sucks for you guys, but I sometimes envy...” Finn trails off and looks away.
“What?” Kurt asks curiously. “Not everyone has to have the same dreams, Finn. One dream isn’t better than another.”
“Yeah, but some are bigger, aren’t they?” Finn says, still staring out across the lawn. “And what does it say about somebody who doesn’t even want to dream big?”
“That he or she will find himself or herself much more content much more easily,” Kurt answers. “Instead of constantly searching.”
“Hey, Kurt? Can I ask you something and you tell me the truth about it?” Finn asks.
“I’ll try,” Kurt says with a nod.
“Do you really think I’m gonna end up in Lima forever? Like how Rachel thinks I am?”
“No.” Kurt’s answer is immediate and the confidence with which he answers surprises even him a little. “I don’t know where you’ll be, Finn, but.” Kurt pauses, gathering his thoughts. “You-you’re going to follow. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but you’ll find your way that way. I think.”
“I really have no idea what that means, but, thanks,” Finn says, finally looking over at Kurt and giving him the warmest smile he can muster. “If you think I’m getting out of here, well, it’s probably true, then.”
“Besides, I have all these plans for my nieces and/or nephews,” Kurt adds, “and they’d be hard to implement if a couple of plane rides were required every time I wanted to see them.”
Finn grins and this time, he’s the one who rolls his eyes. “Cart ahead of the horse, bro,” Finn says. “Pretty sure I’m not popping out any babies any time soon. Or, you know, ever. By myself, I mean.”
Kurt laughs. “If you do, at least you’ll be able to sell your story to the National Enquirer. But I am confident that you will not deprive me of the joy of spoiling children that are not mine, and then returning them to you, full of sugar and bad language.”
“Bad language? I guess they’ll be learning that part from Puck, huh?”
Kurt ducks his head and feels his cheeks redden. “You doubt my ability to provide the sugar?” he finally responds.
“They’ll have you for the sugar, Puck for the language, and just try to send them home bathed, ok? My imaginary wife and I don’t like stinky kids.”
“Oh, no, bathing is a parental activity. We’ll throw them in the lake or pool, though. Good enough?”
Finn is laughing for real now. “Garden hose, maybe? Compromise? Wait...do they have garden hoses in New York City?”
“Fire hydrants.”
“Oh, yeah. You can let them run through that, like the kids on TV. My imaginary wife and I approve.”
“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” Kurt says dryly. “I would hate as an uncle to do anything that you wouldn’t approve of. No, wait, actually,” Kurt smirks. “I wouldn’t really care, would I?”
Finn just pats his brother on the back affectionately. “My stinky kids and I will just have to take what we get, I guess.”
“Yes, yes you will,” Kurt says, mock-haughtily, and picks up the remainder of the stuff to take inside.
Even though it's late for him, Puck can't seem to fall asleep, and he finally sits in front of his computer, composing a short email to Kurt.
And I wanted you to know… http://www.bluestraveler.com/albums/straight-on-till-morning/yours/
I don't expect a reply. But it's true.
He hits send and grabs his phone, sending a text.
Check ur email. xx
He sets his phone down and exhales, then climbs back into bed. He falls asleep almost immediately.
Kurt can't stop listening to the song.
He's thinking about going to bed when the text message comes, and he immediately checks his email and then clicks on the link.
The first time through, he reads the lyrics carefully.
Then he feels his chest ache, the second time.
By the third time, tears fall from his eyes, unchecked.
He's been so hesitant, so afraid. So scared of doing it wrong, of getting hurt.
But lying in his bed, song on repeat, earbuds in, he knows, deep in his brain, that it's too late.
If anyone or anything were to take Puck away from him now, he'd be utterly lost.
He still doesn't understand, not the way that everyone else seems to intuitively know. In love or not in love. He always thought there would be a sign.
Maybe there's no sign. Maybe there's no instant.
Maybe it's just the pure physical pain at the thought of not having Puck.
The thought of somehow hurting Puck.
The thought that he might be hurting Puck, while he figures all of this out.
It's an unbearable ache, and he finds another song on his phone.
Does he really not know love at all? Or is he letting fear win?
He's stumbling around in the dark, but his eyes are starting to adjust.
Puck almost doesn't remember sending Kurt the text or the email. Kurt's only reply was two letters texted almost an hour after Puck fell asleep-xx.
Because of the holiday, there's a delivery in the middle of his two and a half hours at work, and he's running seriously late by the time he ducks into the bathroom and changes clothes. He throws his manager a smile of appreciation as she passes him the two cups of coffee and then heads out the door.
Kurt looks as tired as Puck feels, and they exchange sympathetic glances over their respective cups of coffee before Kurt takes Puck's hand and drives towards school-the long way.
"We're already late," Kurt offers at Puck's inquisitive look. "We might as well finish our coffee before we get marked tardy."
"Good point." Puck rests his head against the seat back. "We had a stupid delivery this morning. Remind me never to work opening after a holiday again."
"Ugh," Kurt makes a face and nods. "I forgot about the PFLAG meeting, so I spent the last hour attempting to devise an agenda."
"That's today? Oh, right."
"Yes, so I had to set the gay agenda," Kurt says wryly.
Puck laughs. "Take over the world, right? 'Cause that's the one I signed up for."
The parking lot's deserted by the time they pull into the lot, five minutes past the bell, and they each hurry to class.
"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Puckerman. I assume you're ready to turn in your essay?"
"Sorry, ma'am. Yes." Puck fumbles with his bags, still carrying his clothes around as well, and withdraws his essay, taking it up to the teacher's desk. She stops him as class ends.
"I can withhold marking your tardy if you have a legitimate excuse, Mr. Puckerman."
"I got held up at work," Puck explains. "Normally the delivery comes on Monday afternoons, but because of the holiday, the guy came at seven, in the middle of shift change at the hospital, so, yeah. I got out late."
"You go to work in the morning before school?"
"Uh. Yes, ma'am. At Starbucks."
She purses her lips. "I've heard stories about you, Mr. Puckerman, but none of them have matched the young man in my class. Your tardy won't be marked. If you're late in the future, please ask your manager to sign something."
"Uh. Thanks. Really. Thank you." Puck hurries out of the room before she can change her mind, because he can't remember the last time a teacher that wasn't Schue gave him the benefit of the doubt.
Ms. Pillsbury has set up for the PFLAG meeting in a classroom near her office, and everyone in the choir room troops over to it when the bell rings at the end of fourth period, sweaty and laughing from more dancing. Finn carries three plates of food, and Puck absently wonders how Carole finds the time to cook so often.
David Karofsky is already in the room, looking nervous, along with three kids that look so tiny Puck's sure they must be freshmen. Another five kids, a mix of sophomores and juniors, come in before the bell rings, and then they all grab seats, the glee club kids purposely sitting in between and beside some of the others.
"Well, as you all know, I'm Ms. Pillsbury, and I'll be attending these meetings, but we're really going to leave the running of the club up to all of you. Kurt?"
Kurt flashes a smile at Ms. Pillsbury and everyone's attention turns towards him. Puck takes the chance to really look at him, because the morning was hurried and the physics lecture a little confusing even with most of their attention.
He's wearing a khaki suit with a bright red t-shirt underneath it and, Puck notes with a pleased smirk, a dark purple print scarf around his neck. He's added a straw hat during the walk from the choir room to the meeting (and Puck wonders how he managed that, really), and the white grosgrain ribbon around it matches the white loafers on his feet.
Puck feels a little underdressed, like he's not really advancing the gay agenda very well. He frowns for a minute. At least he's not wearing a striped boxy polo shirt.
"Hello." Kurt smiles, a little nervously. "So, I thought we'd start by introducing ourselves. Your name-first name only is fine, if you prefer-and if you'd like to say what year you are, why you're here, anything like that." He exhales and turns to his left, where Rachel is sitting. "Rachel, why don't you start?"
"Hi!" Rachel beams. "For those of you that don't know me, I'm Rachel Berry. I'm a senior, and I'm here because I have two gay dads. And, of course, I have several friends who consider themselves GBLTQ." She finishes with a grin and a little shrug.
Most of the first half of the room introduces themselves at some length, and Puck starts to feel a little uncomfortable. Then it's Finn's turn. "Hi." He smiles. "I'm Finn." Then he turns to look at the freshman sitting next to him. "Your turn."
There are a few more lengthy introductions, but there are some simple ones interspersed, including both Santana's and Brittany's. Then it's Puck's turn. "Yo." He nods once. "I'm Puck." He turns and raises an eyebrow at Mike, who nods.
"I'm Mike," he says, and turns to Karofsky.
"I'm David Karofsky. I'm a senior, and uh, I'm here for a lot of reasons." He chews on his lip and plays with the sleeve of his jacket. "Uh, that's it."
The introductions continue around the room until they come back to Kurt. "Hello again. I'm Kurt, and I'm here for many reasons, but first and foremost, because I'm gay." It's the first time anyone in the room has explicitly admitted to being GLBTQ during the meeting, and Puck notices a few of the freshmen have wide eyes. Kurt smiles gently and doesn't force them to meet his eyes. "And yes, it gets easier every time you say it."
There's a little nervous laughter, and Kurt scans the room with his eyes. "Would you tell us?" one of the wide-eyed freshmen asks. "About… coming out?"
Kurt blinks and looks surprised. "If… you really want to hear it?" There are nods and noises of agreement around the room, so Kurt shrugs and begins. "There was a time I… tried to deny I was gay." There's gentle laughter around the room, and Kurt smirks. "I know, I know. And I've known for a very long time. A very long time. But about two years ago, I started coming out." He turns and grins at Mercedes. "Come here, 'Cedes."
Mercedes gets up and crosses the room, and Kurt stands, giving her a one-armed hug. "Mercedes was actually the first person I ever told. It was terrifying. After it was over, though, I felt… freer. A little lighter. Still. One person is not the world." Kurt gives Mercedes a full hug, and then she sits down.
Kurt tilts his head inquisitively. "How many of you actually know when I came out to my dad?"
There's a lot of shaking of heads, but no raised hands, not even Finn's, so Puck keeps his down.
"Well. After my brief but brilliant performance as kicker for the McKinley football team, which included dancing to 'Single Ladies,' my father was, as you might imagine, quite proud. And as I was getting ready for bed that night, I just-told him. He told me he'd known since I was three." Kurt smiles wryly. "That may have been the last person I told explicitly. In fact, I distinctly remember denying it flat-out a week or so before that." He shoots a look at Finn, who laughs.
"Yeah, bro, I didn't believe you."
Kurt rolls his eyes and smiles. "Of course not. But anyway. Once I told my dad, I stopped denying it, anyway. It wasn't long before I was firmly known as 'that gay kid.' I can't imagine why." He shrugs to laughter. "But not everyone that's gay is going to be, well. A walking stereotype."
One of the sophomores, a girl, speaks up. "My brother played football and ran track, and everyone always talked about how his girlfriends would be really lucky. No one ever thought he was gay." She shrugs. "But now that he's out people claim they suspected all along. I know they didn't. Why would they say that?"
"I think sometimes people have that… what is it called again?" Finn looks helplessly at Rachel and then Kurt. "That diss thing?"
"Cognitive dissonance?" Rachel supplies.
"Yeah, that! Thanks, Rach." Finn grins. "They change their own memories to make them fit what they want to think now."
"Yeah, I went back and looked at our freshman yearbook over the summer," Tina confesses, "and there are a lot of things I thought I remembered about all of us that just weren't true." She shrugs with a smile.
The conversation turns to ways for allies to offer support, and Karofsky clears his throat. "Um, back in the spring, Santana had me watch all these videos, the It Gets Better project. There are a lot of them. Pixar, all these singing groups, a lot of celebrities, even the President."
"And they talk about the Trevor Project," Santana adds. "There's a website- just the Trevor Project, dot org-and a toll-free number, too. It's suicide prevention for GLBTQ teens and young adults," she explains quietly.
"Our suicide statistics aren't pretty," Kurt continues. "GLBTQ youth are two to three times as likely to attempt suicide as our straight peers. One of the most important things that allies can do is make sure your friends, gay or straight, know that you are to listen to them, no matter what. No judgment." Kurt looks around the room, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Give them the chance to open the closet door. If they want to. Don't nail it shut. Don't force it open or kick it down, either."
There's silence in the room for a long moment before the bell rings, and everyone quietly stands, some grabbing more food before leaving. Puck stands awkwardly, hands jammed into his pockets, because damn, he's proud of Kurt right now. The room slowly empties, and Puck thinks that he's really gotten good at stalling as he helps put the chairs away and clear the food off the table. Finally, Karofsky walks off with Ms. Pillsbury, and Kurt walks down the hall with him towards the choir room.
"You didn't eat."
"I was nervous," Kurt admits.
"You were awesome. You did great. Better than great." Puck smiles and leans against the doorframe. "Let's go get dinner at Golden Corral or something. All you can eat."
"Mmm. Good idea." Kurt smiles. "I'll meet you here after practice."
"'Kay. Be good."
"I'm always good."
Practice is brutal. Their first game is on Friday and for those of the team, like Puck, who haven't been coming to optional practices, Tuesday is their first practice in full pads. Beiste ends the practice with five laps in full gear, and Puck practically empties a water bottle straight into his mouth before heading to the shower.
Finn's still in the shower when Puck finishes, but everyone else is almost out the door, and Puck dresses quickly. He shoulders his bags and makes sure he's emptied his locker when Finn comes around the corner finally. "You run out of water finally?"
"Haha. The water pressure's better here than at home. It's all environmentally-friendly or something at home."
Puck snorts."Later, dude."
"Later."
Kurt's waiting in the parking lot, perched on his back bumper, wearing the same outfit from earlier minus the hat and the suit jacket. Intellectually, Puck knows Kurt's been at his dad's shop working most of the afternoon, but there's literally not a hair out of place. How does he manage that?
Kurt hops down as Puck approaches. "How was practice?"
"Awful. Work?"
"Hot and boring. Why can't someone in Lima do something exciting when they ruin their car?"
"Like rip out their transmission?"
"Exactly!" Kurt flips the air conditioning to high and looks around the parking lot, then leans over, giving Puck a quick kiss. "Dinner?"
"Yes. Fuck, I'm starving."
"Me, too. All you can eat sounds like a brilliant plan right now." Kurt's silent for a moment before continuing. "You really think the meeting went well?"
"Yeah," Puck assures him. "It did. Hell, there were twenty-one people there. That alone was great. But I meant it. You were awesome. Even if we didn't take over the world yet."
"Today, McKinley, tomorrow the world," Kurt sighs with a grin.
"Today for you, tomorrow for me!" They laugh together as Puck quotes the movie. "Did you get marked tardy?"
Kurt snorts. "That would require the teacher to notice I was in the class, apparently. There are at least thirty of us and I don't think she noticed that I came in, or that I hadn't been there. You?"
Puck shakes his head. "No. It was kind of weird. Great, but still pretty weird."
"Yeah?"
"Well, I turned in my essay when I got there, and then she stopped me and asked why I was late, so I told her, and she said something about hearing stories about me but they didn't seem to be true and the worst part is now I feel a little bad about skipping first period the other day." Puck frowns and makes a face. "What's with that?"
"Poor Puck," Kurt laughs.
"I know!" Puck snorts as they pull into the parking lot. "Ohh, they've got steak 'cause it's dinnertime."
"Pretty sure they also have ham and maybe pork chops," Kurt teases, and Puck grins.
"Awesome."
The restaurant is surprisingly empty, and the two each fill a pair of plates on their first trip through the line.
"Hungry, boys?" the server asks, bringing their drinks.
"Pretty much always," Puck answers.
"Well, you two enjoy."
"Thank you."
"So," Kurt asks between bites, "what should we do at the next meeting?"
"Maybe show some of the It Gets Better videos? Some of them are really well-done. Okay, and some of them are really cheesy, too, but." Puck shrugs.
"Woody gets me every time," Kurt confesses.
They're eating dessert when Puck notices an odd expression on Kurt's face. "What? Do I have chocolate on my chin?"
Kurt visibly starts. "What? No. No, no. Just thinking."
"Don't hurt yourself." Puck flashes a smile, and Kurt laughs for a few seconds.
"I'll try not."
They're nearly back to Kurt's house when he makes a face, swearing.
"What's wrong?"
"I completely forgot, Finn's home."
"I thought it was Finnchel time on Tuesdays."
"Yeah, I thought so too, but he texted me while I was at work, I just forgot until now."
"Well." Puck sighs. "I guess we can hang out with Finn. Unless you'd rather me go on home."
"No," Kurt says quickly. "I mean, unless you need to or something."
"No, I'm good," Puck replies just as quickly.
"Finn?" Kurt calls as soon as they walk in through the garage door.
"In the living room," comes the answer. "You want some popcorn."
Kurt and Puck groan in unison. "Stuffed," Puck says, sitting in the recliner.
"Very stuffed." Kurt slides in front of the recliner, and Puck runs his hand gently through Kurt's hair.
"What'd you have for dinner?"
"Golden Corral."
"Oh, man, I bet that was awesome. I just had Burger King."
"Seriously? People voluntarily eat there?"
"Rachel likes their veggie burger."
"Yeah, well. We had steak. And pork chops."
"And fried chicken, and mashed potatoes and gravy."
"Not to mention the banana pudding and the ice cream."
Finn groans. "You two are mean. Very mean." He tosses popcorn in their direction, which makes Kurt shriek before pelting it back at him.
Finn lumbers to his feet, holding the bowl threateningly over Kurt's head. "No, no, we'll be good!" Kurt laughs, trying to cover his head.
Finn tilts the bowl, a few kernels spilling out, and Puck dives forward, bracing himself against the coffee table while Kurt cowers underneath, and then Puck winces as the kernels bounce off his back, tiny and surprisingly sharp.
"Finn!" Kurt and Puck exclaim together, and Finn just bursts into laughter as Puck straightens, shaking the layer of popcorn off his back. Puck pulls Kurt to his feet as they both step free of the popcorn mountain, which has a back-shaped void in the middle of it.
"I guess I should vacuum that up."
"Yes, you should." Kurt holds on to Puck's hand, seemingly poised for something, and when Finn walks out of the room to grab the vacuum, Puck puts it together. Kurt pulls Puck to the couch and manages to get them both comfortably on the couch, grab the remote, and change the channel, all before Finn gets back in the room.
"Hey," he frowns at the television, and then turns to frown at them on the couch. "Hey!"
"I'm sorry, did you need something?" Kurt asks sweetly, and Finn just makes a face and vacuums up the popcorn.
Kurt has his legs thrown over Puck's, and when Finn's attention turns to other things, Kurt uses one finger to turn Puck's chin towards him. Puck's pretty sure Kurt meant to just kiss him softly, but Puck can't help pushing his tongue against Kurt's lips, waiting for them to part, and he puts his hand on the back of Kurt's neck, holding him in place. Kurt's lips finally fall open, his tongue pressing against Puck's and into Puck's mouth, and Puck waits as long as he possibly can before pulling away momentarily.
"I've been wanting to do that all day," he mutters against Kurt's cheek, and Kurt nods slowly.
"I know the feeling."
Kurt leans his head against Puck's shoulder, and Puck wraps one arm around Kurt's waist, fingers splayed over the gentle rise and fall of Kurt's chest. Puck's not really sure what Finn was watching, but Kurt's landed it on one of the near-ubiquitous Friends re-runs. "Ooh, it's the one where Chandler and Monica first get together."
"I love that scene."
"I like the later seasons better," Finn offers as he sits down in the recliner. "Or the first season. Hey, did you know Rachel's dads named her after the show?"
"Should we start calling you Ross, dude?"
Finn just huffs, and Puck can feel Kurt quietly laughing. Puck spends the remainder of the episode alternating between paying a little attention and softly kissing Kurt's hair and forehead. Kurt lets out a sigh after a few minutes and presses more firmly against Puck, his muscles relaxing and melting into Puck's own.
For tonight, that's enough.