Round One - Prompt: Frame
Prompt: Frame
Entry One: POSTCARDS
Puck opens the Hummel-Hudson fridge, collecting everything necessary to make a pretty awesome sandwich. Sam’s running late from football practice and Puck’s been here enough times now to know where the spare key is kept. And the sandwich ingredients.
“Puckerman, what are you doing in my fridge?”
Puck straightens.
“Hummel,” he turns, “what’re you doing here?” Which he knows is a pretty stupid question but it’s like he passes the ‘Welcome to Ohio’ sign and his brain just short-circuits or something.
Sure enough, Kurt rolls his eyes at him.
“I live here, Puck. I know between Sam, Finn, the big screen and the football it didn’t always seem like it, but I am actually still registered at this address, unlike you, so I’ll ask again: what are you doing in my fridge?”
“Making a sandwich?” And Puck knows he’s being flippant, but he can’t help adding: “Want one?”
Kurt looks at the ingredients spread out on the table. He looks at his watch. He looks at Puck.
“Fine,” he sighs, and sits down and okay, now Puck has to make Kurt a sandwich, but whatever, he’ll roll with it.
“Thought you were living the high life in New York?” Puck says when long minutes have passed and Kurt still hasn’t looked at him.
“I thought you rode off into the sunset towards LA,” Kurt retorts weakly, then frowns. “Sorry,” he says, “I’m not up to combating your usual attempt at wit with my snark today.”
“Dude,” Puck hands him the bagel, “small words, okay? The sunshine in California sort of fries my brain.”
Kurt laughs, which surprises both of them.
“I can relate,” he says, taking a bite. “New York...it’s wonderful. It is. It takes some adjusting, that’s all. I’m just...I wish it didn’t feel like I have to do this by myself.”
“What about Berry?”Because kudos to Hummel, he must have the patience of a saint to deal with Rachel-level crazy all the time. Kurt gives Puck a look. “Right. Well, Princess, LA’s pretty big too. Sometimes I like getting lost, but sometimes...”
“...it’d be nice to know that someone could find you again.” Kurt finishes, then ducks his head. It’s sort of cute. Like his sister cute, Puck attempts to reassure himself. He fails.
“Hey,” he says, before his sun-fried brain catches up with his mouth, “you could send me postcards. Of like, things you’re discovering in New York. Then it wouldn’t be by yourself...”
Kurt stares at him. Puck wants to take it back. Suddenly, Kurt smiles. Nothing big, just lifting the corner of his mouth. Sort of secret. Puck kind of digs that smile.
“That’d be nice. You’d have to reciprocate, though.”
Puck blinks. Reciprowhat? Oh. Right. Send Kurt postcards.
“Okay,” he says, “cool.”
Kurt gives him that secret smile again.
“Maybe I’ll frame yours,” Puck adds, as Sam’s truck pulls into the driveway. “Keep them safe.”
Kurt ducks his head.
“I’d like that,” he says, standing up, bagel in hand. “Thanks for the sandwich...Noah.”
"Postcards" was uncontested in this round. Please show the author your appreciation by voting in the poll below:
Poll Prompt: Frame
Entry One: POSTCARDS
Puck opens the Hummel-Hudson fridge, collecting everything necessary to make a pretty awesome sandwich. Sam’s running late from football practice and Puck’s been here enough times now to know where the spare key is kept. And the sandwich ingredients.
“Puckerman, what are you doing in my fridge?”
Puck straightens.
“Hummel,” he turns, “what’re you doing here?” Which he knows is a pretty stupid question but it’s like he passes the ‘Welcome to Ohio’ sign and his brain just short-circuits or something.
Sure enough, Kurt rolls his eyes at him.
“I live here, Puck. I know between Sam, Finn, the big screen and the football it didn’t always seem like it, but I am actually still registered at this address, unlike you, so I’ll ask again: what are you doing in my fridge?”
“Making a sandwich?” And Puck knows he’s being flippant, but he can’t help adding: “Want one?”
Kurt looks at the ingredients spread out on the table. He looks at his watch. He looks at Puck.
“Fine,” he sighs, and sits down and okay, now Puck has to make Kurt a sandwich, but whatever, he’ll roll with it.
“Thought you were living the high life in New York?” Puck says when long minutes have passed and Kurt still hasn’t looked at him.
“I thought you rode off into the sunset towards LA,” Kurt retorts weakly, then frowns. “Sorry,” he says, “I’m not up to combating your usual attempt at wit with my snark today.”
“Dude,” Puck hands him the bagel, “small words, okay? The sunshine in California sort of fries my brain.”
Kurt laughs, which surprises both of them.
“I can relate,” he says, taking a bite. “New York...it’s wonderful. It is. It takes some adjusting, that’s all. I’m just...I wish it didn’t feel like I have to do this by myself.”
“What about Berry?”Because kudos to Hummel, he must have the patience of a saint to deal with Rachel-level crazy all the time. Kurt gives Puck a look. “Right. Well, Princess, LA’s pretty big too. Sometimes I like getting lost, but sometimes...”
“...it’d be nice to know that someone could find you again.” Kurt finishes, then ducks his head. It’s sort of cute. Like his sister cute, Puck attempts to reassure himself. He fails.
“Hey,” he says, before his sun-fried brain catches up with his mouth, “you could send me postcards. Of like, things you’re discovering in New York. Then it wouldn’t be by yourself...”
Kurt stares at him. Puck wants to take it back. Suddenly, Kurt smiles. Nothing big, just lifting the corner of his mouth. Sort of secret. Puck kind of digs that smile.
“That’d be nice. You’d have to reciprocate, though.”
Puck blinks. Reciprowhat? Oh. Right. Send Kurt postcards.
“Okay,” he says, “cool.”
Kurt gives him that secret smile again.
“Maybe I’ll frame yours,” Puck adds, as Sam’s truck pulls into the driveway. “Keep them safe.”
Kurt ducks his head.
“I’d like that,” he says, standing up, bagel in hand. “Thanks for the sandwich...Noah.”
"Postcards" was uncontested in this round. Please show the author your appreciation by voting in the poll below:
Poll Prompt: Frame