30 Days of Puckurt Drabbles Day Twenty-Eight
Welcome to Day Twenty-Eight 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.
It's not the first time he's felt like trapped animal, backed into a dark corner, with Noah Puckerman's muscular form looming over him.
But it's definately the first time like this.
"--C'mon Kurt jus' lemme touch..."
Puck's hand starts drifting upwards again, and Kurt catches it like it's the string of a balloon, twining their fingers together.
"Puck, stop being creepy." He orders, trying to maintain eye-contact: 'cos that's totally how you get through to simple, pea-brained wild carnivores.
Puck looks instantly wounded, wrinkling his nose:
"'M not creepy..." He protests, as his other hand takes over the task, reaching graspingly towards Kurt's head.
"Stop it!" Kurt repeats, catching that hand too. Puck immediately resumes trying to wrench his first hand free of Kurt's grip.
"How do you even get it like that?" He asks again, pupils blown wide as he gazes wonderingly at Kurt's coiffure. "It's so bouncy, like girl's hair, mine never ever does that, although it was all curly like mom's when I was a kid..." He babbles, words slipping into each other so Kurt has to start falling back on his lip-reading skills to figure out what he's saying.
"Some of us put time and effort into haircare Puck." He explains though his teeth, still fighting to keep the other boy at arm's length. "I'm lucky, I have hair like Scarlett Johnassen. But it's really just a simple combination of organic conditioning products and expert styling advice--"
He's cut off when Puck's undeniably superior upper-body strength overpowers him and suddenly, instead of trying to disentangle their fingers, Puck (sneakily) tugs on Kurt's arms and wraps them around his own back, so Kurt finds himself with his hands held tight two inches from Puck's ass and the other boy's face pressed hard against the side of his head:
"Just can I smell it?" Puck breathes, burying his nose in Kurt's hair while Kurt continues gaping like a tuna and trying to pinpoint the most mortifying part of this moment.
Puck takes a giant sniff, his chest expanding against Kurt's, and Kurt closes his eyes, willing his face not to start burning up from embarassment.
"What is--?"
"--It's apple and lemongrass." Kurt answers tightly, wanting to relax his fingers but worried about accidentally grazing Puck's ass cheeks.
"It's yummy." Puck pronounces, and breathes a laugh that scatters a good chunk of Kurt's carefully styled handiwork. Kurt feels his stomach sink.
"Good. I'm glad." He says, trying to wriggle at least one hand free so he can yank himself free from what, to the outside observer, probably looks like some weird, awkward BDSM slow dance.
But he lets out a squeak of surprise when Puck suddenly releases his hands, his curious fingers grasping for Kurt's scalp instead and pushing all up through his perfectly sculpted competition hair.
"Puck!!" Kurt takes the chance and pretty much leaps backwards, batting Puck away with flapping hands.
But this time, Puck doesn't come after him. He just stares confusedly at Kurt's ruined hair-do, hands falling limply at his sides.
"Where's the cloud?" He asks plaintvely.
Kurt glowers, fighting the urge to wrap his arms over his head so no-one can see the moron's damage.
"Inside your head, clearly." He snaps back, wondering what the odds are of him crashing into some perfect, beatiful boy if he were to dash back to his hotel room for a re-style.
But Puck isn't looking at him anymore; instead his eyes have drifted back to his own fingers, gazing sadly at those teacherous digits as all his illusions about the fluffiness of Kurt's hair shatter around him:
"... I just wanted the cloud..."
Hey everyone, I also added Day 27's TFLN to yesterday's post here, in case anyone's interested. Sorry. My computer is blue-screen-of-deathing me at the moment. I was having *difficulties*.
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