Um, Hi there!
So, I'm new here, new to this pairing, and head over heels in love with these fine looking boys! I just wanted to de-lurk myself (and that sounded less dirty in my head) and offer you all a little fic. :) It's Kurt/Puck/Rachel and has me very nervous as it's my first Glee!fic not to mention my first fic in about eighteen months or so. Yeah, bit o'dryspell here.
Title: Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
Author: Nytegoddess
Spoilers: up to Hairography
Pairing: Kurt/Puck/Rachel
Warnings: umm, PG-13, I think? I can never tell
Disclaimer: Did Puck and Kurt kiss at all in the show you're watching? Then me no own.
Puck would like to say he’s not sure how it happened. Thing is, he knows damn well how it happened. It was not long after the scrimmage with the deaf kids, not long after Finn and Quinn made nice and become everybody’s favorite fucking subject. The Cheerios were planning a baby shower, Mercedes and Tina spent time discussing names with Finn in Glee and even Artie had begun carrying things for Quinn. It was disgusting. It was aggravating. It was like a white hot knife being jammed under his ribs every time he saw them together and the only pleasure Puck got anymore was seeing the same feelings of loathing and longing on the faces of Berry and Hummel.
Maybe that’s what tipped the scales. It’s definitely the only reason the three of them were left alone in the music room after Glee one day. None of them wanted to get caught in the Quinn/Finn baby cloud as it swept everyone from the room. But when Berry sank to a chair, staring pathetically after the golden couple, Puck wasn’t thinking about her. He was thinking about the weather. Namely that it was cold now and he had no pools to ’clean’ this afternoon to take his mind off things. So it shocked him just a little to hear Hummel snapping his name out like a command.
“Puck.” Hummel stood in the doorway, hand on hip, morose Berry in tow. “We’re having an brownie and bitch session at my house. You coming?”
‘What makes you think I’d be up for your little gayfest, Hummel?” Puck sneered, or tried to anyway, it was hard remembering he didn’t give a shit when the dull ache in his chest said otherwise.
Hummel, to his credit, didn’t even blink, just smoothed his bangs back and raised an eyebrow. “Because the three of us are the only ones in this god-forsaken pit that aren’t falling over ourselves to worship at the altar of Mr. and Mrs. Birth Control Poster Couple and misery does, in fact, love company like a three dollar ho. Besides, I have a sixty-four inch plasma screen and a basement apartment. Now get it in gear.”
Puck thought about saying no. Thought about tossing a one-liner over his shoulder and going home to his mother and his sister screaming at each other and spending the night wondering if the baby would look like him. And then a voice that sounded suspiciously like his Granny Esther spoke up in his head and said “yes, because all your usual behaviors have worked out wonderfully lately. Schmuck.” So Puck shrugged, grabbed his guitar and followed Captain Homo and Shrill Girl out to the parking lot.
Which was how he got here. Here being the monochromatic basement apartment of Kurt Hummel. More specifically, the couch of said apartment. A white couch. Puck let his head roll to the side and double-checked. Yep, white couch. Blue shirt. Tan stomach. Brown hair.
Puck blinked and let his eyes refocus. Oh. Make that a boy on a white couch. A boy on a white couch with a girl’s head in his lap and…oh.
“Dude,” Puck started and then stopped, suddenly aware of the amazing way that word sounded. He gave himself a mental shake and tried again. “Hummel.”
“Hmm?” The boy on the couch shifted closer and Puck felt Berry’s head being transferred to his lap. He looked down and she giggled back up at him, eyes as wide as Miss Pilsbury’s.
“Kurt. Are these hash brownies?” Puck tried to frown but he didn’t know if he managed it. Everything felt disconnected, like someone had cut the line sending signals from his brain to the rest of his body. The couch shifted again and suddenly there was warmth pressing against his left side.
“Mmm, picture yourself in a boat on a river, with tangerine trees and marmalade skies .” Kurt’s laugh was a tinkling of bells, sliding in his ear and down to his stomach, as the smaller boy fell against him, burying his face in Puck’s neck and starting to mouth little kisses on it. A voice in Puck’s brain tried to pull him back, tried to make him stand up and shout “Get off me, you freaks!” and storm out, but that voice was faint, muffled by the lazy feeling of the brownies and the fact that whatever the other boy was doing, it felt good. And he was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of pretending he was untouchable, tired of walking down the same deadbeat road his father had. So Puck let go, let his head fall back to give Kurt better access, let his hand stroke through Rachel’s hair as it spilled across his lap.
Kurt moaned his appreciation and slid forward again, legs straddling Rachel’s chest as he began licking and biting his way over Puck’s skin. His soft lips followed the line of Puck’s jaw down to his chin and hovered over his lips, panting into Puck’s open mouth. That voice tried to bubble up again, tried to remind Puck that Kurt was a guy and therefore off limits but Puck reasoned that Kurt didn’t really count as a guy, anyway, and leaned forward to seal their lips together.
Puck heard a high, breathy moan and for one gut-churning moment thought it came from him before he felt weight shifting in his lap and a pair of dark eyes caught his over Kurt’s head. Rachel’s face was flushed, her hair falling into her face from where his hands had been running through it before, and as he slid his tongue past Kurt’s teeth, Puck held her gaze. He heard her sharp intake of air and he somehow knew a second before she spoke just what she was thinking.
“That’s kinda hot.” Her voice was soft, husky, and Puck couldn’t help but notice the way her breasts moved as she edged her way closer. He felt slim, sure fingers at his belt and his heart jumped at the realization that he had no idea whose hand they belonged to. Kurt pulled back to breathe, and tugged his shirt off in one easy movement to reveal pale skin wrapped over wiry muscle, a dancer’s body, and one Puck found strangely alluring. Rachel apparently thought so too, as she reached out one hand and traced delicate fingers across Kurt’s collarbone and down the center of his chest. Kurt smiled at her and stroked her hair back from her face before leaning forward and placing an almost chaste kiss on her upturned mouth. They parted with a sigh, and Puck felt like he was missing something important being said. Kurt turned back to him, blue eyes shining, and a hint of smirk in his smile now.
“Still uninterested in our little gayfest, Noah?” Puck was caught off guard by the use of his given name but recovered quickly.
“I thought you were into guys?” Kurt chuckled, a happy little sound, and tugged on Puck’s belt buckle.
“Let’s just say I slum it every now and then, and anyhow, I can still appreciate beautiful things, can’t I? So what do you say, Noah? You up for it?” With his free hand, Kurt began unbuttoning Rachel’s sweater, while his fingers began trailing up and down Puck’s burgeoning erection.
Puck drifted in sensation for a minute before making up his mind. Surging forward he wrapped an arm around each of the other waists and pulled them more firmly into his lap. “The name’s Puck. And I’m up for anything.”
End (for now?)
Title: Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
Author: Nytegoddess
Spoilers: up to Hairography
Pairing: Kurt/Puck/Rachel
Warnings: umm, PG-13, I think? I can never tell
Disclaimer: Did Puck and Kurt kiss at all in the show you're watching? Then me no own.
Puck would like to say he’s not sure how it happened. Thing is, he knows damn well how it happened. It was not long after the scrimmage with the deaf kids, not long after Finn and Quinn made nice and become everybody’s favorite fucking subject. The Cheerios were planning a baby shower, Mercedes and Tina spent time discussing names with Finn in Glee and even Artie had begun carrying things for Quinn. It was disgusting. It was aggravating. It was like a white hot knife being jammed under his ribs every time he saw them together and the only pleasure Puck got anymore was seeing the same feelings of loathing and longing on the faces of Berry and Hummel.
Maybe that’s what tipped the scales. It’s definitely the only reason the three of them were left alone in the music room after Glee one day. None of them wanted to get caught in the Quinn/Finn baby cloud as it swept everyone from the room. But when Berry sank to a chair, staring pathetically after the golden couple, Puck wasn’t thinking about her. He was thinking about the weather. Namely that it was cold now and he had no pools to ’clean’ this afternoon to take his mind off things. So it shocked him just a little to hear Hummel snapping his name out like a command.
“Puck.” Hummel stood in the doorway, hand on hip, morose Berry in tow. “We’re having an brownie and bitch session at my house. You coming?”
‘What makes you think I’d be up for your little gayfest, Hummel?” Puck sneered, or tried to anyway, it was hard remembering he didn’t give a shit when the dull ache in his chest said otherwise.
Hummel, to his credit, didn’t even blink, just smoothed his bangs back and raised an eyebrow. “Because the three of us are the only ones in this god-forsaken pit that aren’t falling over ourselves to worship at the altar of Mr. and Mrs. Birth Control Poster Couple and misery does, in fact, love company like a three dollar ho. Besides, I have a sixty-four inch plasma screen and a basement apartment. Now get it in gear.”
Puck thought about saying no. Thought about tossing a one-liner over his shoulder and going home to his mother and his sister screaming at each other and spending the night wondering if the baby would look like him. And then a voice that sounded suspiciously like his Granny Esther spoke up in his head and said “yes, because all your usual behaviors have worked out wonderfully lately. Schmuck.” So Puck shrugged, grabbed his guitar and followed Captain Homo and Shrill Girl out to the parking lot.
Which was how he got here. Here being the monochromatic basement apartment of Kurt Hummel. More specifically, the couch of said apartment. A white couch. Puck let his head roll to the side and double-checked. Yep, white couch. Blue shirt. Tan stomach. Brown hair.
Puck blinked and let his eyes refocus. Oh. Make that a boy on a white couch. A boy on a white couch with a girl’s head in his lap and…oh.
“Dude,” Puck started and then stopped, suddenly aware of the amazing way that word sounded. He gave himself a mental shake and tried again. “Hummel.”
“Hmm?” The boy on the couch shifted closer and Puck felt Berry’s head being transferred to his lap. He looked down and she giggled back up at him, eyes as wide as Miss Pilsbury’s.
“Kurt. Are these hash brownies?” Puck tried to frown but he didn’t know if he managed it. Everything felt disconnected, like someone had cut the line sending signals from his brain to the rest of his body. The couch shifted again and suddenly there was warmth pressing against his left side.
“Mmm, picture yourself in a boat on a river, with tangerine trees and marmalade skies .” Kurt’s laugh was a tinkling of bells, sliding in his ear and down to his stomach, as the smaller boy fell against him, burying his face in Puck’s neck and starting to mouth little kisses on it. A voice in Puck’s brain tried to pull him back, tried to make him stand up and shout “Get off me, you freaks!” and storm out, but that voice was faint, muffled by the lazy feeling of the brownies and the fact that whatever the other boy was doing, it felt good. And he was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of pretending he was untouchable, tired of walking down the same deadbeat road his father had. So Puck let go, let his head fall back to give Kurt better access, let his hand stroke through Rachel’s hair as it spilled across his lap.
Kurt moaned his appreciation and slid forward again, legs straddling Rachel’s chest as he began licking and biting his way over Puck’s skin. His soft lips followed the line of Puck’s jaw down to his chin and hovered over his lips, panting into Puck’s open mouth. That voice tried to bubble up again, tried to remind Puck that Kurt was a guy and therefore off limits but Puck reasoned that Kurt didn’t really count as a guy, anyway, and leaned forward to seal their lips together.
Puck heard a high, breathy moan and for one gut-churning moment thought it came from him before he felt weight shifting in his lap and a pair of dark eyes caught his over Kurt’s head. Rachel’s face was flushed, her hair falling into her face from where his hands had been running through it before, and as he slid his tongue past Kurt’s teeth, Puck held her gaze. He heard her sharp intake of air and he somehow knew a second before she spoke just what she was thinking.
“That’s kinda hot.” Her voice was soft, husky, and Puck couldn’t help but notice the way her breasts moved as she edged her way closer. He felt slim, sure fingers at his belt and his heart jumped at the realization that he had no idea whose hand they belonged to. Kurt pulled back to breathe, and tugged his shirt off in one easy movement to reveal pale skin wrapped over wiry muscle, a dancer’s body, and one Puck found strangely alluring. Rachel apparently thought so too, as she reached out one hand and traced delicate fingers across Kurt’s collarbone and down the center of his chest. Kurt smiled at her and stroked her hair back from her face before leaning forward and placing an almost chaste kiss on her upturned mouth. They parted with a sigh, and Puck felt like he was missing something important being said. Kurt turned back to him, blue eyes shining, and a hint of smirk in his smile now.
“Still uninterested in our little gayfest, Noah?” Puck was caught off guard by the use of his given name but recovered quickly.
“I thought you were into guys?” Kurt chuckled, a happy little sound, and tugged on Puck’s belt buckle.
“Let’s just say I slum it every now and then, and anyhow, I can still appreciate beautiful things, can’t I? So what do you say, Noah? You up for it?” With his free hand, Kurt began unbuttoning Rachel’s sweater, while his fingers began trailing up and down Puck’s burgeoning erection.
Puck drifted in sensation for a minute before making up his mind. Surging forward he wrapped an arm around each of the other waists and pulled them more firmly into his lap. “The name’s Puck. And I’m up for anything.”
End (for now?)