Round One - Prompt: Mind
Prompt: Mind
Entry One: My life in your hands
Rating: PG-13
Warning: character death, not graphic
Listening to Kurt's voice is his favourite way to wake up. He always waits to open his eyes, enjoying for a moment Kurt's smell and his warmth on the sheet. In the bathroom, he hesitates his usual minutes before washing with Kurt's fruity soap. He wouldn't admit it, but he loves smelling like his husband. Finn used to make fun of him because of it, but he stops now. Maybe because he is nearly the same with Rachel. He makes himself a cup of coffee and sips it. He doesn't know why, but Kurt's coffee is always better; then he reaches out the newspaper, wishing they could have had breakfast together. He doesn't remember the last time it happened, Kurt worked a lot at the moment and they hardly saw each other. That is what it feels like for him. He puts his slippers and Kurt's in the cupboard and leaves the red shoes near the door before leaving: he is going to be late.
Nothing unusual occurs at work; he tries to call Kurt before lunch but gets the answer-phone. He listens happily to the message before leaving a quick, “Hi babe, I just wanted to say ‘hi’ and that I love you. Call me back if you can, see you tonight.”
He joins Rachel and Finn at a diner - which is nice - even if they keep on asking how he is feeling, reassuring him every five minutes that he could call them if he needed. When they part, they invite him to dinner the next day. He smiles, saying he has to check with Kurt before giving a final answer; it puts tears in Rachel's eyes and makes him happy to be gay: women are so weird, or at least his sister-in-law is.
He goes by the bakery before going home. The first thing he sees when he opens the door are the red shoes carelessly thrown in the corridor: his husband is home.
“Hi, babe, I'm home!”
No answer, but Kurt couldn't hear him from the bathroom.
He puts away the shoes and the cheesecake, changes his clothes and lays silk pyjamas on the bed before spraying some perfume on the pillows.
They spend a calm evening watching “Rent” and eating the cheesecake.
He programmes the coffeemaker with Kurt on the table behind him and then does the same with his Ipod. Tomorrow it will be ‘As if we never said goodbye’.
He takes Kurt with him and heads to their bedroom and put the urn on the nightstand near their wedding picture.
He switches off the light, slides his hand on his husband's pyjamas and takes a deep breath. “Good night, babe, love you”. He can still hear Kurt's voice answering him. As long he can hear, smell and see him, he doesn't care what people think. He isn't crazy, it isn't his mind playing tricks: his husband is still here with him - and the rest can go fuck themselves.
Entry Two: Puck vs His Brain
Rating: PG-13
It had been on Puck’s mind for quite some time, if he really let himself think about it. Which, to be honest, he didn’t. He was a badass and badasses didn’t admit when there was something that made them uncomfortable. He couldn’t really pinpoint what it was, either. Seriously, if putting another dude’s dick in your mouth wasn’t confirmed gay, he didn’t know what was.
Still, there was more to it than that. (Fuck those people who said he wasn’t introspective sometimes.) Puck had always been so focused on being the biggest, baddest, and meanest guy around to protect his soft underbelly. He could own up to that. Hell, he’d told Kurt that when they had lain on his roof during their first date. Puck had been pleasantly surprised when Kurt hadn’t laughed. Instead, his boyfriend (boyfriend!) had told him he understood. It was the same reason that Kurt had acted like such a prickly ice princess all the time.
All that aside, Puck was still feeling a bit weird about it. His thoughts strayed to it most of the day, as if it wasn’t going to go away until he figured out what the fuck he was going to do about it.
It wasn’t like he could punch it in the face. That was his usual go-to solution for things that made him feel weird or upset.
“Noah? Are you okay? You’re being awfully quiet.”
That familiar voice broke Puck out of his thoughts. He was supposed to be watching the movie with Kurt, not debating with his brain on what the fuck they were going to do about this.
“Sorry, babe. Just got a lot on my mind,” Puck said with an easy smile. At least, he hoped it was an easy smile and that he didn’t look constipated or anything.
Wasn’t that a lovely mental image. Seriously, brain. What the fuck?
Kurt just nodded and laid his head on Puck’s shoulder. “Don’t think too hard. I don’t want you spraining anything.” He threaded their fingers together and Puck’s heart skipped a beat. The smile on Kurt’s face was affectionate and so heart-achingly sweet.
Why was it so fucking hard to tell Kurt that Puck was stupidly, adoringly and absolutely in love with him? Because his brain was fucking dumb, that’s why.
Once they finished this movie, Puck would sit down and have a long discussion with his brain about its ineptitude. That’s right, he totally knew that word and how to use it. Fuck you, brain.
Right then, he figured his best option was to cuddle Kurt and press a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple. He could save the argument with himself until later.
Poll Prompt: Mind
Entry One: My life in your hands
Rating: PG-13
Warning: character death, not graphic
Listening to Kurt's voice is his favourite way to wake up. He always waits to open his eyes, enjoying for a moment Kurt's smell and his warmth on the sheet. In the bathroom, he hesitates his usual minutes before washing with Kurt's fruity soap. He wouldn't admit it, but he loves smelling like his husband. Finn used to make fun of him because of it, but he stops now. Maybe because he is nearly the same with Rachel. He makes himself a cup of coffee and sips it. He doesn't know why, but Kurt's coffee is always better; then he reaches out the newspaper, wishing they could have had breakfast together. He doesn't remember the last time it happened, Kurt worked a lot at the moment and they hardly saw each other. That is what it feels like for him. He puts his slippers and Kurt's in the cupboard and leaves the red shoes near the door before leaving: he is going to be late.
Nothing unusual occurs at work; he tries to call Kurt before lunch but gets the answer-phone. He listens happily to the message before leaving a quick, “Hi babe, I just wanted to say ‘hi’ and that I love you. Call me back if you can, see you tonight.”
He joins Rachel and Finn at a diner - which is nice - even if they keep on asking how he is feeling, reassuring him every five minutes that he could call them if he needed. When they part, they invite him to dinner the next day. He smiles, saying he has to check with Kurt before giving a final answer; it puts tears in Rachel's eyes and makes him happy to be gay: women are so weird, or at least his sister-in-law is.
He goes by the bakery before going home. The first thing he sees when he opens the door are the red shoes carelessly thrown in the corridor: his husband is home.
“Hi, babe, I'm home!”
No answer, but Kurt couldn't hear him from the bathroom.
He puts away the shoes and the cheesecake, changes his clothes and lays silk pyjamas on the bed before spraying some perfume on the pillows.
They spend a calm evening watching “Rent” and eating the cheesecake.
He programmes the coffeemaker with Kurt on the table behind him and then does the same with his Ipod. Tomorrow it will be ‘As if we never said goodbye’.
He takes Kurt with him and heads to their bedroom and put the urn on the nightstand near their wedding picture.
He switches off the light, slides his hand on his husband's pyjamas and takes a deep breath. “Good night, babe, love you”. He can still hear Kurt's voice answering him. As long he can hear, smell and see him, he doesn't care what people think. He isn't crazy, it isn't his mind playing tricks: his husband is still here with him - and the rest can go fuck themselves.
Entry Two: Puck vs His Brain
Rating: PG-13
It had been on Puck’s mind for quite some time, if he really let himself think about it. Which, to be honest, he didn’t. He was a badass and badasses didn’t admit when there was something that made them uncomfortable. He couldn’t really pinpoint what it was, either. Seriously, if putting another dude’s dick in your mouth wasn’t confirmed gay, he didn’t know what was.
Still, there was more to it than that. (Fuck those people who said he wasn’t introspective sometimes.) Puck had always been so focused on being the biggest, baddest, and meanest guy around to protect his soft underbelly. He could own up to that. Hell, he’d told Kurt that when they had lain on his roof during their first date. Puck had been pleasantly surprised when Kurt hadn’t laughed. Instead, his boyfriend (boyfriend!) had told him he understood. It was the same reason that Kurt had acted like such a prickly ice princess all the time.
All that aside, Puck was still feeling a bit weird about it. His thoughts strayed to it most of the day, as if it wasn’t going to go away until he figured out what the fuck he was going to do about it.
It wasn’t like he could punch it in the face. That was his usual go-to solution for things that made him feel weird or upset.
“Noah? Are you okay? You’re being awfully quiet.”
That familiar voice broke Puck out of his thoughts. He was supposed to be watching the movie with Kurt, not debating with his brain on what the fuck they were going to do about this.
“Sorry, babe. Just got a lot on my mind,” Puck said with an easy smile. At least, he hoped it was an easy smile and that he didn’t look constipated or anything.
Wasn’t that a lovely mental image. Seriously, brain. What the fuck?
Kurt just nodded and laid his head on Puck’s shoulder. “Don’t think too hard. I don’t want you spraining anything.” He threaded their fingers together and Puck’s heart skipped a beat. The smile on Kurt’s face was affectionate and so heart-achingly sweet.
Why was it so fucking hard to tell Kurt that Puck was stupidly, adoringly and absolutely in love with him? Because his brain was fucking dumb, that’s why.
Once they finished this movie, Puck would sit down and have a long discussion with his brain about its ineptitude. That’s right, he totally knew that word and how to use it. Fuck you, brain.
Right then, he figured his best option was to cuddle Kurt and press a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple. He could save the argument with himself until later.
Poll Prompt: Mind