30 Days of Puckurt Drabbles Day Twenty-Three
Welcome to Day Twenty-Three of 30 Days of Puckurt Drabbles in June: 2012 Edition!
Here be the rules; don't forget to include a rating if the piece is rated higher than PG.
Here be the rules; don't forget to include a rating if the piece is rated higher than PG.
"Oh God!"
Kurt bolts upright, clutching his sheets to his chest and staring round the eerie, early morning darkness. He's not used to this house yet; it's nooks and crannies, it's creaks and shiftings. The shadows in the corners look way too predatory. And, oh yeah, those cookies Finn passed him earlier while giggling like a Chuckie doll probably don't help either.
He jumps as it comes again, that voice; that muffled chanting voice, the voice that was invading his dreams.
"Who's there?" Kurt demands of the darkness, listing in his fuzzy head every sharp object within a metre's radius he thinks could penetrate a fast-moving torso.
Nobody answers.
Kurt pulls his legs into his chest, coiling himself ready for fight or flight; he's not sure which. Although at this hour either will probably just end in him huddling on the floor flailing pathetically.
"My dad has a shotgun!" He warns more shrilly, wondering if his voice might put off any potential attackers, who might feel guilt about attacking any pre-pubescent children.
"...See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns. See you make your way through the crowd..."
Kurt scrambles backwards, hitting his headboard and launching himself off the bed to huddle, trembling, by his dresser. He swipes the first thing he can lay a hand on as a weapon, which happens to be a barrel brush.
He looks at it. Shrugs.
He could probably kill someone with that.
"I'm armed!" He shouts. But the voice doesn't stop, doesn't even pause.
"...And say, 'Hello,' Little did I know..."
Kurt frowns, tightening his grip on his hairbrush. He knows those lyrics.
"...That you were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles, and my daddy said, 'stay away from Juliet...'"
Carefully, he takes a step into the centre of his room. The voice seems to get louder, and Kurt turns his head slowly from side to side, trying to pinpoint it.
"...Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone, I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run..."
His closet. Must be his closet.
Swallowing hard, Kurt girds everything he can gird and takes a step closer. And another. It's definately coming from his closet.
There is a person in his closet.
"...You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess, It's a love story, baby, just say, 'Yes'..."
Wait...
Kurt recognises that mumbly baritone.
Lowering his hairbrush, Kurt grabs the handle and yanks the door open, revealing a very cramped, very weepy looking Noah Puckerman.
"Puckerman?" Kurt sighs.
Puck jerks like he's been tasered, scrabbling against the sides of the closet.
"Kurt..?"
"What are you doing in my closet?"
Puck looks around, like he hadn't quite noticed where he was.
"...It was safe in here." He mumbles pathetically, fingers stroking the soft pine under him. "No-one else here."
"We thought you'd got pissed and left." Kurt says, crossing his arms.
Puck drops his head between his knees, dragging in a long breath, and Kurt remembers that the last time he'd actually seen Puck, he'd been standing on the couch doing a striptease to the Lucky Charms theme tune.
He crouches down, peering into Puck's traumatised looking face:
"Who are you hiding from?"
Puck stares at him.
"...The girls."
"Then my closet is probably not your best choice. Mercedes and Tina are in and out here all the time--"
Kurt almost topples over as Puck's hand shoots out and wraps tight around his wrist, pulling their faces close.
"They all hate me." Puck whispers. "They're driving me crazy, I just want the girls to leave me alone."
Kurt's mouth makes an undertsanding little 'o':
"And so you're... in the closet?"
"Yeah."
A tiny smile quirks the corner of Kurt's mouth.
"...How ironic."
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Puck stares past Kurt's shoulder, eyes darting around his darkened bedroom.
"I'm scared Kurt."
"You'll feel better once you come out." Kurt advises, struggling to keep his face straight.
"...Will you stay with me?"
"Oh I don't think me going back into the closet will help anyone." Kurt drawls, but Puck's eyes immediately fill with scared tears.
"Please. I don't want to be alone anymore."
"Oh jesus Puck, how many of those cookies did you have?"
"There were cookies?" Puck's face scrunches up as he tries to remember. "I had that cake..."
"Oh god."
Kurt shifts, getting a tighter grip on Puck's arm and settling himself cross-legged on the floor.
"Everyone else went home hours ago Puck. Including the girls. You sure you don't wanna just come out and sleep on Finn's floor?"
Puck doesn't answer. But his terrified expression says it all. Kurt fights back a yawn.
"If I close the door you're gonna start singing again aren't you?"
"Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone--"
"--Okay okay okay..."
Not quite believing he's doing it, Kurt clambers over Puck's immobile form, huddling himself against the opposite side of his closet and pulling the door to.
"Wow." he breathes into the darkness "So glad I insisted on the walk-in version."
Then, suddenly, his brain freezes.
"Wait. Hang on. Puck. Where are your clothes?"
"Huh?"
"Your clothes? Where are they?!"
"Oh. They were talking about me. I had to chuck 'em before someone heard."
"Riiight.." Kurt pulls his feet very slowly back to his chest. But Puck doesn't seem to like that.
"Kurt. Where'd you go?"
Kurt jerks as two big manly hands clamp around his ankles.
"Oh thank god! Don't leave me here."
"I'm not going anywhere." Kurt assures him, awkwardly patting the back of Puck's hand.
They sit like that for long minutes, and Kurt lets his eyes drift close and tries not to think too hard about naked Noah Puckerman's hand creeping up his leg in a darkened closet.
After a while, Puck starts singing again, and-- realising there's no point in resisting-- Kurt joins in.
"Romeo, save me, they're trying to tell me how to feel, this love is difficult but it's real, don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess, it's a love story, baby, just say, 'Yes'..."
"You know, I think this may be the single gayest moment of my entire life." Kurt decides. "And I've entered Little Miss Ohio."
Puck's hand tightens round his knee:
"Don't leave me, Kurt."
Kurt smiles, squeezing Puck's hand and settling back against the hard wall of his closet:
"Not goin' anywhere. Just let me know when you're ready to come out."
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