My Place In You Life 22/?
Author: allatingle
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Puck, the rest of the gang wanders in and out.
Genre: Romance/Angst
Warnings: None
Spoilers: I can't separate Glee from FF or RL anymore so lets say everything.
Disclaimer: Mine only in my warped imagination.
Summary: Kurt and Puck decide to have some fun together. Just fun, no strings. But being totally casual isn't as easy as it looks.
Word Count: 3446
A/N: LJ is being a psycho bitch today.
“Hi ‘Cedes,” Kurt called out a greeting as he sauntered into her bedroom.
Mercedes poked her head out of her bathroom, curling iron in hand. “Hi boo, I’ll be out in a sec.” She pointed the appliance at him. “Stay out of my closet.”
Kurt stopped halfway towards the open door to her overflowing closet and groaned. “Mercedes, come on, you’re colors are all mixed up, I can see it from here.”
“I like my colors mixed up.”
“Mercedes, it hurts, actual physical pain, to see such chaos. Let me just-”
“Back away from the closet, Kurt,” she said, sternly.
Kurt turned away from it with a beleaguered sigh and flopped onto her bed. “If you loved me, you’d let me reorganize your closet.”
Mercedes emerged from the bathroom. “I do love you. So much that I don’t want to kill you, which is what I’ll have to do if you start rearranging my clothes according to hue or whatever.” She leaned over him where he lay flat on his back amidst a kaleidoscope of pillows and stuffed animals and kissed his forehead. “Besides, I think the only shade I’ll be wearing next week is black, just in case.”
“Just in case what?” He tugged a zebra print pillow out from where it was digging into his back.
“The glee slushie wars start up again.”
She disappeared from above him and Kurt rolled onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows. “What are you talking about?”
“Rick the Stick and his idiot posse. Didn’t Puck tell you?”
Kurt watched her rooting around in her closet, watched her pick up a sweater that had fallen to the floor and toss it carelessly onto a nearby chair already laden with discarded clothes and had to fight the urge to get up and start sorting through them. He took a deep breath. “Tell me what?”
“A couple of the puck-heads were ragging on Sam and Mike, calling them two-time losers because both the football team and the glee club lost.”
“Don’t they have anything better to do with their time?”
“Hockey season is over, so, no. Anyway, it got pretty heated until Puck came along and threatened to take out Rick’s few remaining real teeth, so they backed off. But Rick made some comment about re-establishing the proper order of things, ‘the McKinley way.’”
“Slushies,” Kurt said with a grimace.
“Slushies.” Mercedes nodded. She pulled out a scarf and wrapped it around her neck.
“When did all this happen? And if you wear a green scarf with a red sweater I will sing Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer in a continuous loop all afternoon.”
She stuck her tongue out at him but took off the scarf. “Yesterday, right before last period. Weren’t you with Mr. Lover yesterday?”
“Yes, but he didn’t mention it.” Kurt’s mouth tilted into a slight frown, how could Noah have forgotten to mention a run in with Rick and his cro-magnon friends?
“Well,” Mercedes voice dipped suggestively, “maybe he was distracted.”
The frown disappeared and Kurt smirked. “Oh, he was definitely distracted. Twice.”
He laughed and ducked when Mercedes grabbed a stuffed alligator from her desk and threw it at him. “You two are like rabbits. I’m surprised you can even walk.”
“Some days I’m a little surprised myself.” Kurt grinned. “Anyway, where exactly did you get this intel, Ms. Jones?”
Kurt was pretty sure he knew exactly where she’d gotten it. True, his mind was a little preoccupied these days. And his lips and his cock and his ass and... oh God, so good inside me, again, fuck me again.
Okay, maybe more than a little preoccupied, but he hadn’t missed the shy smiles and hooded glances between his best friend and a certain bottle blonde guitar player.
Mercedes turned away from him and became suddenly very focused on searching through her jewelry box. “Sam told me,” she said offhandedly.
“Reeally?” Kurt’s tone was faux innocent. “My goodness, you and our favorite fishy have been chatting a lot lately.”
“So?”
“So, is there something going on that I should know about?”
She glanced back at him. “No, we’re just friends.”
“Mmhm, but would you like there to be something going on?”
She turned back to her dresser and examined the necklace she held in her hand. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind, but-”
Kurt cut her off with a whoop of delight. “Mercedes and Sammy, sitting in a tree,” he sang climbing to his knees and bouncing on the bed.
“But he’s unavailable. Dating a good friend of ours, remember?”
Kurt waved her words away. “Oh, please, that relationship has been on life support for weeks.”
Mercedes moved over to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. Handing him the necklace she lifted her hair with a sigh. “Yes, but it hasn’t flatlined yet and the family won’t pull the damn plug. Until someone calls time of death, there won’t be anything happening between me and Sam. I am not gonna be that girl.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll have to wait much longer.” Kurt fastened the clasp and fluffed her hair back over her shoulders. “I predict a Prom night breakup.”
“Kurt!” Mercedes turned and swatted his arm. “Don’t be mean.”
“What? Anyone can see that they’re over. All they do is argue, they don’t hold hands anymore, they barely even look at each other. The only reason Quinn is hanging on is because she is weirdly obsessed with being the perfect Prom couple and Sam is too nice to crush her dream.”
Mercedes ducked her head and smiled softly. “That’s the thing, I mean he’s funny and sweet and cute-”
“And damn those abs.”
“Hot damn." She fanned herself for a moment. "But he’s a nice guy, too, and I really, really like that about him, but...”
“You just wish he’d stop being nice and dump that little bitch yesterday?”
She buried her face in her hands. “Sooo bad!”
They collapsed back onto the bed in a fit of wicked giggling until they were both spent and lying side by side facing each other.
“Anyway, speaking of Prom couples, what about you and Puck?” Mercedes tapped him on the nose.
Kurt tapped her back. “What about us?”
“Have you two talked about Prom?”
“What’s there to talk about? I’m going, he’s going.”
“Yeah, but... isn’t that weird? You’ll both be there but not together.”
Kurt’s mouth quirked up a little. “Sweetie, you’ve just described our entire relationship.”
“That’s my point. You’re together but no one knows you’re together, or at least no one is supposed to know. I mean, it’s been months, Kurt. It’s just... isn’t it hard?”
“What, you mean liking someone but not being able to show it?” He asked pointedly.
“Me and Sam are not the same as you and Puck. Sure, I like Sam and maybe he likes me too-”
“He definitely likes you,” Kurt interjected.
Mercedes tried and failed to hide a giddy smile at that. “But we haven’t gotten beyond that. You and Puck are way beyond that and I don’t just mean sex.”
Kurt thought about helping Noah make three dozen Rice Krispie treats for Sarah’s school bake sale, he thought about putting ice cream, root beer and bendy straws on the grocery list because Noah lit up with the most ridiculously adorable six-year-old elation over root beer floats, he thought about falling asleep with his head in Noah’s lap in the middle of Rent and waking to find him humming along to the finale and carding his fingers through Kurt’s hair.
“Okay, you’re right,” he conceded. “We’re beyond that but it’s fine, ‘Cedes. I won’t deny that I would love to go to Prom with Noah on my arm but that’s not the way it is and I’m okay with that. We’ll both be there and then we’ll be together after.”
“But...”
“No buts, Mercedes. I know it’s... unconventional, but it works. Maybe we’re not together exactly the way I’d like, but we’re together. What we have is... special. We belong to each other, whether everyone else knows that or not.”
Mercedes sighed. “Okay. I’m just looking out for my boo.”
“I know you are and I love you for it.” He leaned forward and gave her a noisy, wet kiss on the cheek and then jumped off the bed and pulled her up with him. “Now, let’s go and find you a Prom dress that’s so hot, Sam will drop Quinn like a bad habit.”
~~~
“Brittany, sweetie, what is that on your head?” Kurt stood in the change room at Laila's Dress Boutique, head tilted to one side and stared at Brittany, slightly horrified yet intrigued at the same time.
“It’s a tiny top hat. I bought it for Lord Tubbington but he’s letting me borrow it.”
Kurt stood back and examined the lime green dress and top hat headband. On anyone else it would have been ridiculous but on Brittany... “You know, with a pair of red platform pumps, I think it could work. Very... MTV meets TeenChoice meets Katy Perry. For you, it’s perfect.”
Brittany beamed. “Thanks, you are my new favorite Unicorn.”
“Who was your old favorite unicorn?” Kurt asked absently, sweeping her hair up into a messy bun.
“Puck.”
Kurt stilled and then met Brittany’s eyes in the mirror. “You think Puck is a unicorn?” He asked carefully. And, oh shit, had Brittany and her weird sixth sense picked up on Noah’s questionable sexuality?
“I thought you said everyone in glee club was a unicorn?” Tina called out suddenly from inside a change room.
“We are, because we’re all special and unique. But Puck is the most special because he has a mohawk which is just a mane in disguise.”
“Oh, of course." Kurt breathed out a laugh and let her hair drop back down. "Hair down, the headband will pull it back nicely.”
“Plus he’s all sparkly now, ever since-” Brittany started.
“Kurt, should I wear my hair up or down?” Mercedes called out from inside her change room.
“I don’t know, I need to see the dress first.” He turned back to Brittany and fussed with the zipper at the side of her dress. It was sticking a little but he was fairly certain a little soap would solve that problem. “Ever since what?” He asked, picking up the thread of their conversation.
“Ever since he-”
“Ta da!” Mercedes exclaimed, flinging open the door of her change room and popping out.
Kurt turned to look at her. “Oh bella, it’s exquisite! Purple is totally your color and I knew that bodice would perfectly accent your awesome decolletage without making you look like-” he stopped abruptly and frowned. “Oh my God, are you wearing purple shoes?”
“Aren’t they amazing, they match perfectly!”
“Yes, they do, which makes you look like a bridesmaid. I am not going to Prom with a bridesmaid unless it’s Kristen Wiig. Black shoes. Or maybe silver,” he paused and looked her over. “Yes, silver, hair up, it will accent the necklace and earrings.”
“You’re going to Prom with Mercedes?” Brittany asked.
“Yeah, Kurt’s the fruit, I’m the fly.” They grabbed onto each other and made supermodel faces in the mirror before breaking down into laughter.
“I don’t get it,” Brittany said solemnly.
“Fruit fly, it’s a term for a gay guy’s, straight bff,” Kurt explained.
“No, not that, I mean why you’re going together? Why-”
“Are you sure about the shoes, I really like them?” Mercedes interrupted.
“They're great shoes, they're just wrong for the dress. Trust me on this, 'Cedes.”
“Kurt!” Tina burst forth from her change room. “Mike’s on the phone, he’s talking about cropped jackets.”
“What? Is he crazy, give me the phone.” Kurt snatched the phone from Tina’s hand. “Mike, no... that is not individuality, that is fashion suicide... yes, there is such a thing. It is also sexual suicide. Tina will not be giving up Prom night goodies to a guy in a cropped jacket.”
Tina nodded emphatically.
Mercedes prodded Brittany back into her fitting room. “Get changed, we have to be at Quinn’s in half an hour.”
Kurt ended the call and handed the phone back to Tina who was looking at Mercedes, wide eyed. “Don’t worry, I’m heading over to the formal wear store right now. I promise there will be no crimes of fashion on my watch.”
“Thanks, Kurt.” Tina hugged him and then pushed him out of the changing area. “Now go, hurry.”
Kurt was very proud that he didn’t shriek aloud when he walked into Harry’s Formal Wear and found Mike, Sam and Finn wearing matching waist length jackets. Of course, he managed that by clamping a hand over his mouth and holding it there until he regained his composure. He removed it slowly. “You look like bull fighters,” he said at last.
“Hey, cool,” Finn exclaimed.
“No, not cool, not at all cool. Take those things off. I gave you each very specific options that will compliment your build and budget. I wrote them down, I showed you pictures.”
“Yeah but they’re boring compared to some of the stuff in here. Look bolo ties and matching belts!” Sam pointed to a nearby rack.
“I’m going to choose to believe that your face is all lit up with wicked derision and ruthless contempt about this discovery and not delight,” Kurt said dryly. He perused a few racks quickly, grabbing various shirts and jackets and ties.
“I could wear my cowboy hat and boots.” Sam’s eyes were bright and it was so unfortunate that it was clearly from delight.
“You could if we were going to a tacky western themed wedding, or if we lived in Texas... you know what, not even then.”
“But,” Sam fingered a metal aglet in the shape of a ram’s head and Kurt reached out quickly and slapped his hand away.
“Hey, ow!”
“No. Bad, Sam, bad.” Kurt handed him an armload of clothes. “Try these on.”
Sam frowned and rubbed at his hand. “Jesus, your worse than Quinn, at least she doesn’t hit.”
“I told you he wouldn’t like them,” Finn grumbled as Kurt thrust clothes at him and then Mike.
“I’m flattered that you know me so well, now go and put these on.” Kurt shooed them back into the change rooms as his phone buzzed with a text. He slid it out of his pocket.
From #1badass: got the girls all tarted up?
From kwintour: The suggestion that I would allow any of my girls to look even slightly less than stunning is offensive.
From #1badass: okay no jokes about fashion got it
From kwintour: You’re just getting that now?
Sam emerged from the fitting room wearing the classic black jacket Kurt had given him and Kurt looked up from his phone and smiled. “There, now that’s better.”
Finn came out next and stood beside Sam and Kurt’s smile widened, damn he was good at this. His phone buzzed again and he glanced down.
From #1badass: sorry lost my head for a second what about the guys?
From kwintour: Working on that now.
“Hey, tell Puck to bring dip,” Sam said, adjusting his tie in the mirror.
Finn bumped his shoulder. “Yeah, if you’re texting Puck, tell him to bring dip,” Finn repeated slowly, giving Sam a weird look. Sam gave him one back.
Kurt gave them both a weird look. “Is dip some kind of code or something?”
Mike suddenly materialized in a shiny, maroon smoking jacket. “Oh my God, no! Michael Chang, you take off that monstrosity right now. The only person that could pull that off is Hugh Hefner.”
“The Hef is cool,” Finn stated.
“The Hef is old and obscenely wealthy and is therefore allowed to dress however he chooses, no matter how heinous. When that day comes for you, I will send you that jacket as a gift. Until then, please take it off, it’s burning my retinas.”
“But, Kurt-” Mike protested.
“No. Tina made me swear that I wouldn’t let you rent anything awful and yes, I recognize the irony considering some of her fashion choices, but on Prom night she will be wearing a stunning strapless dress and some very risque undergarments, so if you want to be worthy of her and you want the opportunity to see said undergarments, you will put on the black tuxedo jacket that I picked out for you.”
Mike paused, considering. “How risque?”
“Ordered online, delivered in plain brown wrapping.”
“Black tuxedo jacket it is!” Mike declared.
Sam and Finn stared after him as he retreated back to the change room.
“Rachel barely even lets me touch her boobs,” Finn griped.
Sam shrugged. “I don’t even want to touch Quinn’s boobs anymore.”
“TMI, guys,” Kurt said, turning back to his phone.
From kwintour: Bring dip (from Sam and Finn). Do not bring dip if you want any tongue action later (from me).
From #1badass: I’ll bring dip (for Sam and Finn) I won’t have any (for you)
From kwintour: Lies, you can’t resist dip.
From #1badass: fine I’ll bring mouthwash too ur such a hardass
Kurt smirked.
From kwintour: You want me to make a hardass joke, don’t you?
From #1badass: yes plz
From kwintour: Uh-uh, too easy
From #1badass: that’s what I like best about u
From kwintour: Well, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?
Mike reappeared in Kurt’s chosen jacket and stood beside Sam and Finn and Kurt’s face broke into a grin. “Okay, that’s more like it.” He tugged at hems and smoothed lapels. “The very epitome of dashing young men, your ladies will be smitten.” The three boys looked at him blankly. Kurt sighed, “You look hot.”
They grinned and then proceeded to pull faces and assume gangsta poses in the mirror. Kurt shook his head and turned back to his phone.
From kwintour: The girls have their dresses, the boys have their tuxes. Everyone looks fabulous, my work here is done.
From #1badass: u think I should rent a tux?
From kwintour: What? No, you have your suit. You look amazing in that suit. Definitely wear the suit.
From #1badass: I’m getting that you like the suit
From kwintour: I like the suit.
From #1badass: like me all snazzy huh?
From kwintour: Snazzy, really?
From #1badass: what’s wrong with snazzy?
From kwintour: Nothing. How’s your bursitis, Grandpa Puckerman?
From #1badass: okay u like me stylin’ and profilin’?
From kwintour: Artie, give Noah back his phone.
From #1badass: u dig my righteous threads?
From kwintour: Now I have the theme song from Shaft in my head.
From #1badass: shut yo mouth
Kurt looked up again as the guys emerged from the change room back in their wrinkled jeans and ratty t-shirts. “Wow, quite the transformation. You know I should make notes on this experience. One day I’ll write an article entitled, ‘How to turn your slovenly guy into a dashing prince on Prom night.’”
“Get him a gay, fashion nazi friend?” Mike suggested.
“Hey, I’m ensuring you look good and therefore get laid on Prom night, Michael, you should be thanking me.”
“Yeah, especially since you’re the only one of us who’ll be getting laid on Prom night,” Finn added.
“Probably not the only one,” Sam muttered.
Finn gave Sam a shove and Sam turned away snickering. Kurt gave him a hard look, he could not possibly be talking about Mercedes because if he thought that was going to happen he was not only way wrong but not the guy he thought he was.
“Oh, you mean, Artie and Brittany,” Finn said rather sharply.
“Yeah, Artie and Brittany,” Mike agreed, and now he was snickering and Finn was shooting daggers at both of them, and why was he all pissed, everyone knew he and Rachel weren’t having sex and that wasn’t about to change in the backseat of her Neon on Prom night.
“What is up with you guys today?” Kurt asked.
“Nothing,” Finn shot out quickly. “Come on let’s pay for these monkey suits and get out of here, I want to stop by the food court on our way out, I’m starving.”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “You are not eating in my baby.”
Sam made some remark under his breath that had Mike laughing out loud and Finn shoving them both again.
Kurt watched them, perplexed, as they tripped over each on the way to the sales desk until his phone buzzed again.
From #1badass: text me when ur leaving
From kwintour: On our way, eta 30 minutes. Btw, straight boys are weird.
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Puck, the rest of the gang wanders in and out.
Genre: Romance/Angst
Warnings: None
Spoilers: I can't separate Glee from FF or RL anymore so lets say everything.
Disclaimer: Mine only in my warped imagination.
Summary: Kurt and Puck decide to have some fun together. Just fun, no strings. But being totally casual isn't as easy as it looks.
Word Count: 3446
A/N: LJ is being a psycho bitch today.
“Hi ‘Cedes,” Kurt called out a greeting as he sauntered into her bedroom.
Mercedes poked her head out of her bathroom, curling iron in hand. “Hi boo, I’ll be out in a sec.” She pointed the appliance at him. “Stay out of my closet.”
Kurt stopped halfway towards the open door to her overflowing closet and groaned. “Mercedes, come on, you’re colors are all mixed up, I can see it from here.”
“I like my colors mixed up.”
“Mercedes, it hurts, actual physical pain, to see such chaos. Let me just-”
“Back away from the closet, Kurt,” she said, sternly.
Kurt turned away from it with a beleaguered sigh and flopped onto her bed. “If you loved me, you’d let me reorganize your closet.”
Mercedes emerged from the bathroom. “I do love you. So much that I don’t want to kill you, which is what I’ll have to do if you start rearranging my clothes according to hue or whatever.” She leaned over him where he lay flat on his back amidst a kaleidoscope of pillows and stuffed animals and kissed his forehead. “Besides, I think the only shade I’ll be wearing next week is black, just in case.”
“Just in case what?” He tugged a zebra print pillow out from where it was digging into his back.
“The glee slushie wars start up again.”
She disappeared from above him and Kurt rolled onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows. “What are you talking about?”
“Rick the Stick and his idiot posse. Didn’t Puck tell you?”
Kurt watched her rooting around in her closet, watched her pick up a sweater that had fallen to the floor and toss it carelessly onto a nearby chair already laden with discarded clothes and had to fight the urge to get up and start sorting through them. He took a deep breath. “Tell me what?”
“A couple of the puck-heads were ragging on Sam and Mike, calling them two-time losers because both the football team and the glee club lost.”
“Don’t they have anything better to do with their time?”
“Hockey season is over, so, no. Anyway, it got pretty heated until Puck came along and threatened to take out Rick’s few remaining real teeth, so they backed off. But Rick made some comment about re-establishing the proper order of things, ‘the McKinley way.’”
“Slushies,” Kurt said with a grimace.
“Slushies.” Mercedes nodded. She pulled out a scarf and wrapped it around her neck.
“When did all this happen? And if you wear a green scarf with a red sweater I will sing Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer in a continuous loop all afternoon.”
She stuck her tongue out at him but took off the scarf. “Yesterday, right before last period. Weren’t you with Mr. Lover yesterday?”
“Yes, but he didn’t mention it.” Kurt’s mouth tilted into a slight frown, how could Noah have forgotten to mention a run in with Rick and his cro-magnon friends?
“Well,” Mercedes voice dipped suggestively, “maybe he was distracted.”
The frown disappeared and Kurt smirked. “Oh, he was definitely distracted. Twice.”
He laughed and ducked when Mercedes grabbed a stuffed alligator from her desk and threw it at him. “You two are like rabbits. I’m surprised you can even walk.”
“Some days I’m a little surprised myself.” Kurt grinned. “Anyway, where exactly did you get this intel, Ms. Jones?”
Kurt was pretty sure he knew exactly where she’d gotten it. True, his mind was a little preoccupied these days. And his lips and his cock and his ass and... oh God, so good inside me, again, fuck me again.
Okay, maybe more than a little preoccupied, but he hadn’t missed the shy smiles and hooded glances between his best friend and a certain bottle blonde guitar player.
Mercedes turned away from him and became suddenly very focused on searching through her jewelry box. “Sam told me,” she said offhandedly.
“Reeally?” Kurt’s tone was faux innocent. “My goodness, you and our favorite fishy have been chatting a lot lately.”
“So?”
“So, is there something going on that I should know about?”
She glanced back at him. “No, we’re just friends.”
“Mmhm, but would you like there to be something going on?”
She turned back to her dresser and examined the necklace she held in her hand. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind, but-”
Kurt cut her off with a whoop of delight. “Mercedes and Sammy, sitting in a tree,” he sang climbing to his knees and bouncing on the bed.
“But he’s unavailable. Dating a good friend of ours, remember?”
Kurt waved her words away. “Oh, please, that relationship has been on life support for weeks.”
Mercedes moved over to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. Handing him the necklace she lifted her hair with a sigh. “Yes, but it hasn’t flatlined yet and the family won’t pull the damn plug. Until someone calls time of death, there won’t be anything happening between me and Sam. I am not gonna be that girl.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll have to wait much longer.” Kurt fastened the clasp and fluffed her hair back over her shoulders. “I predict a Prom night breakup.”
“Kurt!” Mercedes turned and swatted his arm. “Don’t be mean.”
“What? Anyone can see that they’re over. All they do is argue, they don’t hold hands anymore, they barely even look at each other. The only reason Quinn is hanging on is because she is weirdly obsessed with being the perfect Prom couple and Sam is too nice to crush her dream.”
Mercedes ducked her head and smiled softly. “That’s the thing, I mean he’s funny and sweet and cute-”
“And damn those abs.”
“Hot damn." She fanned herself for a moment. "But he’s a nice guy, too, and I really, really like that about him, but...”
“You just wish he’d stop being nice and dump that little bitch yesterday?”
She buried her face in her hands. “Sooo bad!”
They collapsed back onto the bed in a fit of wicked giggling until they were both spent and lying side by side facing each other.
“Anyway, speaking of Prom couples, what about you and Puck?” Mercedes tapped him on the nose.
Kurt tapped her back. “What about us?”
“Have you two talked about Prom?”
“What’s there to talk about? I’m going, he’s going.”
“Yeah, but... isn’t that weird? You’ll both be there but not together.”
Kurt’s mouth quirked up a little. “Sweetie, you’ve just described our entire relationship.”
“That’s my point. You’re together but no one knows you’re together, or at least no one is supposed to know. I mean, it’s been months, Kurt. It’s just... isn’t it hard?”
“What, you mean liking someone but not being able to show it?” He asked pointedly.
“Me and Sam are not the same as you and Puck. Sure, I like Sam and maybe he likes me too-”
“He definitely likes you,” Kurt interjected.
Mercedes tried and failed to hide a giddy smile at that. “But we haven’t gotten beyond that. You and Puck are way beyond that and I don’t just mean sex.”
Kurt thought about helping Noah make three dozen Rice Krispie treats for Sarah’s school bake sale, he thought about putting ice cream, root beer and bendy straws on the grocery list because Noah lit up with the most ridiculously adorable six-year-old elation over root beer floats, he thought about falling asleep with his head in Noah’s lap in the middle of Rent and waking to find him humming along to the finale and carding his fingers through Kurt’s hair.
“Okay, you’re right,” he conceded. “We’re beyond that but it’s fine, ‘Cedes. I won’t deny that I would love to go to Prom with Noah on my arm but that’s not the way it is and I’m okay with that. We’ll both be there and then we’ll be together after.”
“But...”
“No buts, Mercedes. I know it’s... unconventional, but it works. Maybe we’re not together exactly the way I’d like, but we’re together. What we have is... special. We belong to each other, whether everyone else knows that or not.”
Mercedes sighed. “Okay. I’m just looking out for my boo.”
“I know you are and I love you for it.” He leaned forward and gave her a noisy, wet kiss on the cheek and then jumped off the bed and pulled her up with him. “Now, let’s go and find you a Prom dress that’s so hot, Sam will drop Quinn like a bad habit.”
~~~
“Brittany, sweetie, what is that on your head?” Kurt stood in the change room at Laila's Dress Boutique, head tilted to one side and stared at Brittany, slightly horrified yet intrigued at the same time.
“It’s a tiny top hat. I bought it for Lord Tubbington but he’s letting me borrow it.”
Kurt stood back and examined the lime green dress and top hat headband. On anyone else it would have been ridiculous but on Brittany... “You know, with a pair of red platform pumps, I think it could work. Very... MTV meets TeenChoice meets Katy Perry. For you, it’s perfect.”
Brittany beamed. “Thanks, you are my new favorite Unicorn.”
“Who was your old favorite unicorn?” Kurt asked absently, sweeping her hair up into a messy bun.
“Puck.”
Kurt stilled and then met Brittany’s eyes in the mirror. “You think Puck is a unicorn?” He asked carefully. And, oh shit, had Brittany and her weird sixth sense picked up on Noah’s questionable sexuality?
“I thought you said everyone in glee club was a unicorn?” Tina called out suddenly from inside a change room.
“We are, because we’re all special and unique. But Puck is the most special because he has a mohawk which is just a mane in disguise.”
“Oh, of course." Kurt breathed out a laugh and let her hair drop back down. "Hair down, the headband will pull it back nicely.”
“Plus he’s all sparkly now, ever since-” Brittany started.
“Kurt, should I wear my hair up or down?” Mercedes called out from inside her change room.
“I don’t know, I need to see the dress first.” He turned back to Brittany and fussed with the zipper at the side of her dress. It was sticking a little but he was fairly certain a little soap would solve that problem. “Ever since what?” He asked, picking up the thread of their conversation.
“Ever since he-”
“Ta da!” Mercedes exclaimed, flinging open the door of her change room and popping out.
Kurt turned to look at her. “Oh bella, it’s exquisite! Purple is totally your color and I knew that bodice would perfectly accent your awesome decolletage without making you look like-” he stopped abruptly and frowned. “Oh my God, are you wearing purple shoes?”
“Aren’t they amazing, they match perfectly!”
“Yes, they do, which makes you look like a bridesmaid. I am not going to Prom with a bridesmaid unless it’s Kristen Wiig. Black shoes. Or maybe silver,” he paused and looked her over. “Yes, silver, hair up, it will accent the necklace and earrings.”
“You’re going to Prom with Mercedes?” Brittany asked.
“Yeah, Kurt’s the fruit, I’m the fly.” They grabbed onto each other and made supermodel faces in the mirror before breaking down into laughter.
“I don’t get it,” Brittany said solemnly.
“Fruit fly, it’s a term for a gay guy’s, straight bff,” Kurt explained.
“No, not that, I mean why you’re going together? Why-”
“Are you sure about the shoes, I really like them?” Mercedes interrupted.
“They're great shoes, they're just wrong for the dress. Trust me on this, 'Cedes.”
“Kurt!” Tina burst forth from her change room. “Mike’s on the phone, he’s talking about cropped jackets.”
“What? Is he crazy, give me the phone.” Kurt snatched the phone from Tina’s hand. “Mike, no... that is not individuality, that is fashion suicide... yes, there is such a thing. It is also sexual suicide. Tina will not be giving up Prom night goodies to a guy in a cropped jacket.”
Tina nodded emphatically.
Mercedes prodded Brittany back into her fitting room. “Get changed, we have to be at Quinn’s in half an hour.”
Kurt ended the call and handed the phone back to Tina who was looking at Mercedes, wide eyed. “Don’t worry, I’m heading over to the formal wear store right now. I promise there will be no crimes of fashion on my watch.”
“Thanks, Kurt.” Tina hugged him and then pushed him out of the changing area. “Now go, hurry.”
Kurt was very proud that he didn’t shriek aloud when he walked into Harry’s Formal Wear and found Mike, Sam and Finn wearing matching waist length jackets. Of course, he managed that by clamping a hand over his mouth and holding it there until he regained his composure. He removed it slowly. “You look like bull fighters,” he said at last.
“Hey, cool,” Finn exclaimed.
“No, not cool, not at all cool. Take those things off. I gave you each very specific options that will compliment your build and budget. I wrote them down, I showed you pictures.”
“Yeah but they’re boring compared to some of the stuff in here. Look bolo ties and matching belts!” Sam pointed to a nearby rack.
“I’m going to choose to believe that your face is all lit up with wicked derision and ruthless contempt about this discovery and not delight,” Kurt said dryly. He perused a few racks quickly, grabbing various shirts and jackets and ties.
“I could wear my cowboy hat and boots.” Sam’s eyes were bright and it was so unfortunate that it was clearly from delight.
“You could if we were going to a tacky western themed wedding, or if we lived in Texas... you know what, not even then.”
“But,” Sam fingered a metal aglet in the shape of a ram’s head and Kurt reached out quickly and slapped his hand away.
“Hey, ow!”
“No. Bad, Sam, bad.” Kurt handed him an armload of clothes. “Try these on.”
Sam frowned and rubbed at his hand. “Jesus, your worse than Quinn, at least she doesn’t hit.”
“I told you he wouldn’t like them,” Finn grumbled as Kurt thrust clothes at him and then Mike.
“I’m flattered that you know me so well, now go and put these on.” Kurt shooed them back into the change rooms as his phone buzzed with a text. He slid it out of his pocket.
From #1badass: got the girls all tarted up?
From kwintour: The suggestion that I would allow any of my girls to look even slightly less than stunning is offensive.
From #1badass: okay no jokes about fashion got it
From kwintour: You’re just getting that now?
Sam emerged from the fitting room wearing the classic black jacket Kurt had given him and Kurt looked up from his phone and smiled. “There, now that’s better.”
Finn came out next and stood beside Sam and Kurt’s smile widened, damn he was good at this. His phone buzzed again and he glanced down.
From #1badass: sorry lost my head for a second what about the guys?
From kwintour: Working on that now.
“Hey, tell Puck to bring dip,” Sam said, adjusting his tie in the mirror.
Finn bumped his shoulder. “Yeah, if you’re texting Puck, tell him to bring dip,” Finn repeated slowly, giving Sam a weird look. Sam gave him one back.
Kurt gave them both a weird look. “Is dip some kind of code or something?”
Mike suddenly materialized in a shiny, maroon smoking jacket. “Oh my God, no! Michael Chang, you take off that monstrosity right now. The only person that could pull that off is Hugh Hefner.”
“The Hef is cool,” Finn stated.
“The Hef is old and obscenely wealthy and is therefore allowed to dress however he chooses, no matter how heinous. When that day comes for you, I will send you that jacket as a gift. Until then, please take it off, it’s burning my retinas.”
“But, Kurt-” Mike protested.
“No. Tina made me swear that I wouldn’t let you rent anything awful and yes, I recognize the irony considering some of her fashion choices, but on Prom night she will be wearing a stunning strapless dress and some very risque undergarments, so if you want to be worthy of her and you want the opportunity to see said undergarments, you will put on the black tuxedo jacket that I picked out for you.”
Mike paused, considering. “How risque?”
“Ordered online, delivered in plain brown wrapping.”
“Black tuxedo jacket it is!” Mike declared.
Sam and Finn stared after him as he retreated back to the change room.
“Rachel barely even lets me touch her boobs,” Finn griped.
Sam shrugged. “I don’t even want to touch Quinn’s boobs anymore.”
“TMI, guys,” Kurt said, turning back to his phone.
From kwintour: Bring dip (from Sam and Finn). Do not bring dip if you want any tongue action later (from me).
From #1badass: I’ll bring dip (for Sam and Finn) I won’t have any (for you)
From kwintour: Lies, you can’t resist dip.
From #1badass: fine I’ll bring mouthwash too ur such a hardass
Kurt smirked.
From kwintour: You want me to make a hardass joke, don’t you?
From #1badass: yes plz
From kwintour: Uh-uh, too easy
From #1badass: that’s what I like best about u
From kwintour: Well, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?
Mike reappeared in Kurt’s chosen jacket and stood beside Sam and Finn and Kurt’s face broke into a grin. “Okay, that’s more like it.” He tugged at hems and smoothed lapels. “The very epitome of dashing young men, your ladies will be smitten.” The three boys looked at him blankly. Kurt sighed, “You look hot.”
They grinned and then proceeded to pull faces and assume gangsta poses in the mirror. Kurt shook his head and turned back to his phone.
From kwintour: The girls have their dresses, the boys have their tuxes. Everyone looks fabulous, my work here is done.
From #1badass: u think I should rent a tux?
From kwintour: What? No, you have your suit. You look amazing in that suit. Definitely wear the suit.
From #1badass: I’m getting that you like the suit
From kwintour: I like the suit.
From #1badass: like me all snazzy huh?
From kwintour: Snazzy, really?
From #1badass: what’s wrong with snazzy?
From kwintour: Nothing. How’s your bursitis, Grandpa Puckerman?
From #1badass: okay u like me stylin’ and profilin’?
From kwintour: Artie, give Noah back his phone.
From #1badass: u dig my righteous threads?
From kwintour: Now I have the theme song from Shaft in my head.
From #1badass: shut yo mouth
Kurt looked up again as the guys emerged from the change room back in their wrinkled jeans and ratty t-shirts. “Wow, quite the transformation. You know I should make notes on this experience. One day I’ll write an article entitled, ‘How to turn your slovenly guy into a dashing prince on Prom night.’”
“Get him a gay, fashion nazi friend?” Mike suggested.
“Hey, I’m ensuring you look good and therefore get laid on Prom night, Michael, you should be thanking me.”
“Yeah, especially since you’re the only one of us who’ll be getting laid on Prom night,” Finn added.
“Probably not the only one,” Sam muttered.
Finn gave Sam a shove and Sam turned away snickering. Kurt gave him a hard look, he could not possibly be talking about Mercedes because if he thought that was going to happen he was not only way wrong but not the guy he thought he was.
“Oh, you mean, Artie and Brittany,” Finn said rather sharply.
“Yeah, Artie and Brittany,” Mike agreed, and now he was snickering and Finn was shooting daggers at both of them, and why was he all pissed, everyone knew he and Rachel weren’t having sex and that wasn’t about to change in the backseat of her Neon on Prom night.
“What is up with you guys today?” Kurt asked.
“Nothing,” Finn shot out quickly. “Come on let’s pay for these monkey suits and get out of here, I want to stop by the food court on our way out, I’m starving.”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “You are not eating in my baby.”
Sam made some remark under his breath that had Mike laughing out loud and Finn shoving them both again.
Kurt watched them, perplexed, as they tripped over each on the way to the sales desk until his phone buzzed again.
From #1badass: text me when ur leaving
From kwintour: On our way, eta 30 minutes. Btw, straight boys are weird.