30 Days of Puckurt Drabbles Day Twenty-Four
Welcome to Day Twenty-Four 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.
"Ohhh, that tastes like...craaaap..."
"Dude, give it here."
Puck snatches the half-eaten pastry from Kurt's lax fingers, letting the amber liquid drip onto his tongue before he rips off a bite.
"Hummel, I'm afraid your definition of crap needs to be rewritten because that's actually awesome."
Puck takes another bite, then lowers the disputed coissant to find Hummel glowering at him from swollen, narrowed eyes.
"I thought more alcohol was supposed to cure hangovers?" He says.
Puck screws up his forehead: "Who told you that?"
Kurt glances around, as if the answer might be hiding behind the utensils:
"..It made sense in my head." He admits mulishly.
"'Sides." Puck tells him, gaze scrolling over the messed-up counter-tenor's flimsy body. "You're not hungover. You're drunk as a skunk."
Kurt seems to take offense at this, and wraps a hand round the counter-top to keep himself from toppling over in rage:
"I had one beer Puckerman! I had one beer, it was your stupid beer, and it tasted like dishwater anyways, I'm not 'still drunk'!"
Puck finishes off the whisky-soaked croissant, sucking the remaining alcohol off his fingers:
"We kept swapping in a new one."
Kurt blinks. Repeatedly. Like his head might start spinning or something.
"...What?"
"We kept swapping beers in." Puck explains, grin getting wider and wider as Kurt's mouth gets thinner and thinner.
"Everytime you half finished one we swapped it for a new one. You had like six beers before you passed out. It was hilarious."
Actually, when he says it like that, Puck thinks it's maybe not that hilarious. Kurt looks like a million times unimpressed.
"You got me like this?" He demands, voice hitting that grating pitch that means Puck can't actually hear the end of his words.
"Hey, it was a party, dude. Humiliating the nerds is all part of the fun."
Kurt's cheeks are all pink, but the rest of his face is freakishly white, and Puck wouldn't be totally surprised if he came at him with a fish-slice or something.
So he's kind of caught out when Kurt just sways slightly on the spot for a minute before saying, very quietly:
"We're meant to be teammates."
Puck shrugs: "It was funny." He replies flatly. He doesn't like Kurt's eyes looking at him like that.
Kurt sniffs a bit. He's probably gonna start crying.
"...Was Finn in on your cunning scheme?"
Oh right. Of course. Puck rolls his eyes.
"Look, Finn isn't some knight in shining armour." He spits, taking a step closer and feeling a weird spike in his stomach when Kurt doesn't back away. "He's as much of a dickhead as I am, the only reason people ever cut him a break is 'cuz he's dumb as a sack of rocks. He's only in glee to get into Berry's pants, everyone knows that; and he's sure as hell not gonna fight for your honour Hummel, so stop making Bambi eyes at him and go jack off to Lady Gaga like the rest of the glitter brigade."
Puck pulls in a breath that rattles through his teeth, holding Hummel's drunk-eyed stare and liking that he looks such a fucking state right now.
Puck doesn't know why the kid riles him so much. He has been trying to get along with the glee freaks, or at least, y'know, stop throwing them in trash cans and shit. But Hummel just keeps on coming. He never gives him a break, never gives him the benefit of the doubt; he's always just throwing Puck that look like he's a piece of shit stuck to the bottom of one of his expensive-ass girl-boots, and Puck has had it up to here people treating him like he's worth diddly-squat.
And yeah: he is sick to fuck of people being in love with Finn Hudson.
He takes another step closer:
"Go stick your head in the toilet Hummel before I do it for you."
Kurt at least knows when to cut his losses. He just glares balefully for a second longer then storms out. Or at least, he tries to: he doesn't quite have the coordination. He crashes his shoulder into Puck's on the way to the door, and Puck can feel that impact against his arm for the rest of the day.
Stupid guilt. As if Puck doesn't have enough already.
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(860): i will replace your cream cheese. there's enough for breakfast. you are my friend. i had guests we wanted bagels so bad im sorry. i left you notes. i love you. you have enough for a bagel or two and i will get you more. you are so pretty.
(Actually my favorite tfln of all time. Your drabble today was wonderful as usual and I would love you forever if you used this one!)
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