Doin' the Monster Mash
Creature High
Parings/Characters: PucKurt, Artie/Tina, Finnchel, Brittana, Mercedes, Quinn, Mike, Matt, Mr. Shuester, Sue, Becky
Genre: Supernatural
Rating: T
Prompt: Ok, I know it's a little strange, but bear with me for a second. In my dream, it was still Glee, but everyone was a different monster or creature. Everyone one knows everyone else is a monster, its just world wide common knowledge. Any way, I can't remember what everyone was, but I do know a few. Finn was a Frankenstein, Tina was a vampire (vegan of course) Puck was a pure breed werewolf and king of the school and on his arm he had is boyfriend Kurt who was a siren and queen (lol) of the school. Bonus points if Kurt is also cheer-leading captain and Puck is football captain. Another bonus if someone can go into some detail about how each one has visual characteristics in regards to their creature/monster. Page. 32
A/N: Okay, so this is technically the third prompt I've filled, but I wanted it to be the first I posted somewhere, if not just for the experience... Tell me what you think? :D Be the who, Santana is a Ciguapa, a seductress from the Dominican Republic who is completely naked save for long, black hair and have backwards feet. It's pretty cool.
I
No one knew exactly how it became so completely commonplace, but there were many theories floating around about how the phenomenon began. Some believed it was a by-product of a nuclear meltdown somewhere and they were all radiation-mutated freaks, while others claimed it was the doing of alien beings.
Looking down at his family history, Puck thought it probably went back a little further than that and there was more truth to the myths they heard everyday than most were willing to admit. But he didn't really give a fuck about it and went to sex up his boyfriend (Kurt was never really happy about the two in the morning full moon visits, but he couldn't help that he got restless! Truly!).
All he knew for sure about it was that the world was swimming with creatures that, until a few decades ago, were thought to belong solely in fantasy books and fictional movies/TV shows, and the William McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio had been affectionately renamed Creature High by the locals since the '60's at least.
II
“Puck, get your hands off my boy.”
Puck growled in the back of his throat, opening his eyes enough to glare at the pissed off girl standing beside them, hands on her hips and fingers tapping. He separated their lips, pulling his tongue back into his own mouth after one last exploration and gently lapped at Kurt's lips. Mercedes made an impatient noise and began to tap her foot but Puck only angled them so she could clearly see him shamelessly massage the smaller boys ass. Kurt rolled his eyes and smacked his chest.
“Sorry Mercy.” Blue-green eyes glared at him until he huffed mimicked the apology. Then winced when Kurt smacked him again and repeated it, this time with a kicked puppy expression and moved his hands to a much more appropriate place.
“I know you are, it's him that's incorrigible,” she scoffed. Bronze scales gleamed in the light as she shifted again, waiting for Kurt to peel himself away from his horny boyfriend, which proved to be easier than previously anticipated. After one more swat to the rear Puck released him and waited for the two to link arms before shoving his hands into his pockets and walking along side them. “C'mon baby, momma wants tots.”
Once they were all settled in their designated seats at their usual table in the cafeteria, Puck took his time to look around with idle interest at the variety of creatures they had gathered. No two of them were the same, and he strained to remember the 'proper' names for each of them. Kurt had read them to him once when they were relaxing after an especially vigorous bout of sex.
There was him, in the first place. His family were pure blood werewolves, had been for decades now, according to his Nana. She said that it was her parents who had taught her, in secret, to control her form so she could change at will, even if the urge was so much stronger at the full moon. And that Hitler didn't just take Jews or gypsies during the Holocaust, but the few creatures that had been found out during that time.
Perched neatly on his lap with a large bottle of water to keep him sustained through lunch was Kurt. Part Siren, which came from his mothers side of the family, with a little hint of bear (which darkened his skin from the light, almost invisible shade of blue it should have been to a pale, almost invisible shade of gray that looked darker in the shadows) that his father had passed on. He thought that Burt's side of the family had a traditional name for what their kind were called, so he leaned forward and nipped the tip of Kurt's pointed ear.
“Hey babe,” he whispered, flicking out his tongue. Kurt twitched and huffed, turning away from the heated debate about what actually constitutes as high notes with a fuming Rachel to raise an exasperated eyebrow.
“Yes? Did you need something?” Heavy on the sarcasm and just the way he liked it. Puck grinned and licked affectionately at the pouting lips while listening with half an ear to Rachel's offended protests in Kurt's directions for suddenly ignoring her.
Like everyone at the table wasn't used to that already.
“I was thinking-” Kurt raised a disbelieving eyebrow, “about what you read to me for history class last week.”
“Wow, thinking not only about something potentially useful, but about school? A new record Noah. I'm proud.” Though the statement still carried a mocking tone, Puck could hear the truth of the it as well underneath.
“Thanks babe.” Puck slipped his hand under the table and squeezed Kurt's thigh, kneading it. “Remember when you were listing the classification chart, or whatever?”
Kurt frowned, sucking thoughtfully at the bottle of water. Puck watched hungrily as his cheeks hollowed when he drew the liquid into his mouth and swallowed, eager for them to be wrapped around something much, much larger. “I recall. What got you thinking of it now?”
“Nothin'. I was just thinking and wanted to know what they called someone like your dad,” he answered with a casual shrug, slipping his hand upward until he reached the crease of Kurt's thigh and massaging it.
“He's what they would technically term an Otso.” Kurt moved his hands down to join Puck's. “A bear spirit. The name is Finnish, and we have some relatives there on his side, though he's primarily German.”
“Thanks Kurt,” he murmured, laying a kiss behind his ear.
“That's all?”
“Yeah, for now.” Puck grinned, lifting his hand to twine with Kurt's.
“Well, you're welcome then,” Kurt answered, turning enough to push their lips together then focusing his attention on Mercedes, who happily struck up a conversation about a trip to the mall (“It's so hard to find nice clothes when you not only need to colour co-ordinate with scales, but have a massive tail.”).
He'd like to see who'd come out on top in a fight between her and the Scorpion King. He's betting on Mercedes Jones kicking his ass; girls nails were fucking poisonous and she was not only a scorp-human hybrid, but she had dragon in her too from her mom. Deadly threesome combo.
Sitting next to her was Quinn, wings folded peacefully and decked out in her Cheerio uniform. She's what passes as a modern day Harpy, but her wings weren't in place of her arms, instead a little off center below her shoulder blades, but Puck thought that that's because of her dad. The crossbreeding that had been going on for the last while had changed the perception of certain creatures, and created new categories.
Still has talons where her feet would be if she was a little more human than her mother, and the elbows of her top bulge just a bit from the bunches of feathers. Furthermore, he has scars from her unnaturally curved fingernails.
Bitch.
His eyes move from Quinn and Mercedes down to the other end of the table, where Artie, Finn, Rachel, and Tina sat. Tina had a large black umbrella propped up behind her, blocking the sun as she sunk her fangs into a bag of blood (from a vegetarian; those were the only people she would drink from, oddly enough. Something about not wanting to harm animals...). He'd asked once how the hell she managed to walk around in the sun being a vampire, and Kurt had grinned at him, mentioning something about sunscreen and make-up being enough shield her overly sensitive skin.
Principal Figgins was still wigged out by her and her family.
Artie was chilling next to her, bottom half coiled enough to keep him eye level with his girlfriend as he choked back a hamburger sheepishly. The name was at the back of his head, had something to do with India or whatever, but Puck bit Kurt's neck to get his attention again. “Hey, what's Artie called again?”
“What?” Kurt's voice was distracted as he looked at something across the room. “Oh, he's a Naga. The original mythology came from India.”
“Cool.” He was right. No surprise there. Artie's tail kind of made it a pain in the ass to dance during glee, but what the hell, it's not like Santana made it any better with her backwards feet. Meh, at least she didn't prance around naked anymore to live up to her Dominican folklore nature; Coach Sylvester put an end to that as soon as she joined the Cheerio's. The experience did wonders for her co-ordination too, so that was a bonus.
Finn was a little more difficult to work out. He had been still born, but Puck was pretty sure that Carole was human, or mostly, at any rate, but one of the doctors at the hospital pulled a Frankenstein (and he'd had it drilled into his head that the monster was not Frankenstein himself; Kurt got annoyed as hell by the common misconception, though fuck if he knew why) and took him apart. They replaced the faulty organs with working ones before his brain got too starved of oxygen and patched him back up. They put in a brace to hold his neck on straight, but the screws seemed to have been a practical joke by one of the staff members.
Carole sure as hell didn't appreciate it.
But whatever, Finn adapted as he grew up, though Carole never could get a man to stay longer than the morning after. As soon as they saw her stitched together boy they ran for the hills, creature or no. Most thought he was a little too much of a freak of nature.
Puck said that they could go die in a hole somewhere then dumpster tossed the losers.
Of course, the circumstances in which he was brought into the world didn't seem to improve his taste in women, if one Rachel Berry was any indication.
Rachel was... well, many would say different things about her; ostentatious as Kurt had said once while sneering at her clothes, pretentious, unique, or wonderful if you were listening to Finn drool over her.
He just said she was annoying as all hell.
Yeah, she had a pretty good voice, when she wasn't screeching at you, or in your general vicinity. Banshee was the term that rang true when it came to Rachel. It was also oddly apparent in the green tinge her skin took for whatever reason when she got angry. It wasn't as attractive as Kurt's darker than average red blush.
Ah well, you win some, you lose some. When it came to Kurt, it was boobs, but he didn't need those to have sex.
His steady mental categorization of each of them was cut off by the abrupt sound of the bell. Kurt turned and grinned, initiating a brief, but hot as hell make out session. He jumped off Puck's lap when hands began to wander and the jock's growing erection made itself known to his backside.
“See you in glee Noah,” Kurt called back as he hightailed it out of the cafeteria, waving over his shoulder at his suddenly bereft and frustrated boyfriend.
Fucking tease.
III
Growling and snarling at everyone after his unattended problem plagued him all day, even after he attempted to relieve it himself, Puck stalked into the choir room, shoving random kids into lockers as he passed. Kurt was there when he strode in, chatting innocently away to Mercedes as if he could do no wrong. Their gossip mongering was cut off when Puck grabbed him and hoisted him to the last row, settling him firmly onto his lap once again.
“Bitch,” he grumbled into Kurt's ear. He buried his face in the thin neck, newly elongated canines nipping at the smooth skin.
“You wouldn't have it any other way,” Kurt purred, humming a few seductive notes into Puck's ear. Hazel eyes rolled back and a shiver worked its way through the thickly muscled body. Before Puck could give in to his hormones and throw Kurt to the ground, rutting like animals, Mr. Shue clomped into the room.
“Okay everybody! Let's start off-” Rachel stood, cutting off their teacher.
“Mr. Shue, I'd like to start off the day with a song, if you don't mind.” She didn't wait for his reply, walking to the piano and nodding to Brad while Mr. Shue gave an mildly exasperated wave to continue. She launched into a rendition of something or other that Puck paid no attention to, instead choosing to glance around the room at the bored assemblage of people.
Mr. Shue was leaning against the piano, hooves crossed and ears tilted forward as he listened. Faun came to mind when he thought of Mr. Shue, and the irony when he thought of how the term Kurt read to him about Ms. Pillsbury was Spanish. El Trasgo. No wonder she was a red head. Shaking his head at his teachers inept, virgin almost-romance and Ms. Pillsbury's obsessive need for everything to be absolutely spotless, he moved his attention anywhere that wasn't Rachel.
Britney and Santana sat together, knees and foreheads touching, their pinkies linked, as they giggled about something. Santana smirked and rubbed her reversed foot up and down Britney's calf then leaned up and placed an affectionate kiss at the base of the long white horn protruding from Britney's forehead. The long, thin white tail swayed happily. He thought it was oddly fitting that Britney was such an iconic fantasy creature.
Rachel finished with a flourished bow and flounced back to her seat, staring creepily at Finn, who grinned back awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck, cursing when the stitches around his wrist got caught on his hair. Rachel was out of her seat in an instance, trying to help free him. Puck snorted and nuzzled the back of Kurt's neck, snickering quietly.
“Be nice,” Kurt scolded, voice trembling in his attempt to retain his own mirth.
“Come on babe, you know you're dying to mock them mercilessly,” Puck teased, stretching his jaw and clamping his teeth lightly around Kurt's neck. He kept his eyes peeled on Mr. Shue trying to calm the two up front for a moment before giving up and motioning Mike and Matt forward for their dance routine. While one sense focused up front, the other four were focused on his lover.
“Puck, come on, we're in the middle of glee,” Kurt complained quietly, trying to control his breathing. Rolling his eyes Puck obeyed, resting his chin on Kurt's shoulder and keeping his hands above the waist. With nothing else to keep his interest he turned back surveying all of their teammates.
Mike was a type of Asian dragon, long whiskers protruding from his near his nose and thin, growing horns growing out the top of his head. He kept his claws neatly trimmed on Couch Bieste's demand so he didn't accidentally cut someone when they were playing. It was pretty cool what he could do when he put his mind to it, actually. Major kick ass flips and shit.
“Babe,” he muttered, poking Kurt again, feeling the smaller boy turn curiously. “Matt?”
Kurt shifted, humming a confused note before the meaning of the question clicked in his head and he began to explain. “Matt is an Abada, supposedly the African cousin of the unicorn. He and Britney and practically related through their species.”
Puck nodded and took in Matt's appearance. Two long black horns had sprouted instead of one, evenly spaced on either side of his head. Another complication in football, but they filed them down during games and the next day he came to school with them fully regrown with no signs of negative consequences yet. A long tail, almost exactly like Britney's but brown and with a shorter tuft of hair at the tip swayed as he danced, twining around his leg to escape the fate of sprain by stomping (it happened once in football; he'd been out the rest of the game. Anyone with a tail ran that risk).
He understood completely; his own tail (when it sprouted) was almost as sensitive as his dick. He couldn't imagine spraining it.
With no one else to stare at, glee passed slowly as they rehearsed their songs and danced around the room. Of course, he kept his eyes trained faithfully on one ass throughout all of the routines while waiting to be let out so he could grab his boyfriend and run. Kurt still had to pay for his cock blocking maneuver earlier today, and Puck was going to make sure the lesson stayed with him until next week.
IV
On their way out they bumped into Coach Sylvester, megaphone in hand and a frown on her face. Standing tall and imposing over the two of them with Becky at her side she commanded them to get out of their way (“Move your sorry, mangy ass Curly Cue.”) and reminding Kurt of tomorrows Cheerio practice (“Don't you dare come to me limping Lady. There will be no mercy, not even for the thoroughly screwed.”) before sweeping away in all her Elvish glory with her feline assistant at her side.
“Well, Curly Cue, you'd better save you retribution until tomorrow night,” Kurt said casually, dragging Puck out the doors by their linked arms. “After all, you don't want me completely spent before we even have a chance to have fun.”
“Huh?” Kurt turned and grinned, opening the doors of his Navigator and starting it up, pulling out of the lot.
“I'm just saying. We have all weekend, and I really don't want to be asleep through it all just because of a single day.”
“Fuck yeah!” Puck shouted, punching the air triumphantly as he remembered about Burt's all weekend fishing trip. “Score!”
V
Yeah, they were weird and the world had taken a turn for the bizarre, but all those idiots who thought it was something scary and new and caused by radiation or mutation could take their half-baked conspiracy theories and shove them up their own asses. They obviously didn't know what the hell they were talking about, because everyone in the school could trace their lineage back way farther than that, and wasn't there always some form of truth to the myths?
Of course there was. Idiots.
Parings/Characters: PucKurt, Artie/Tina, Finnchel, Brittana, Mercedes, Quinn, Mike, Matt, Mr. Shuester, Sue, Becky
Genre: Supernatural
Rating: T
Prompt: Ok, I know it's a little strange, but bear with me for a second. In my dream, it was still Glee, but everyone was a different monster or creature. Everyone one knows everyone else is a monster, its just world wide common knowledge. Any way, I can't remember what everyone was, but I do know a few. Finn was a Frankenstein, Tina was a vampire (vegan of course) Puck was a pure breed werewolf and king of the school and on his arm he had is boyfriend Kurt who was a siren and queen (lol) of the school. Bonus points if Kurt is also cheer-leading captain and Puck is football captain. Another bonus if someone can go into some detail about how each one has visual characteristics in regards to their creature/monster. Page. 32
A/N: Okay, so this is technically the third prompt I've filled, but I wanted it to be the first I posted somewhere, if not just for the experience... Tell me what you think? :D Be the who, Santana is a Ciguapa, a seductress from the Dominican Republic who is completely naked save for long, black hair and have backwards feet. It's pretty cool.
I
No one knew exactly how it became so completely commonplace, but there were many theories floating around about how the phenomenon began. Some believed it was a by-product of a nuclear meltdown somewhere and they were all radiation-mutated freaks, while others claimed it was the doing of alien beings.
Looking down at his family history, Puck thought it probably went back a little further than that and there was more truth to the myths they heard everyday than most were willing to admit. But he didn't really give a fuck about it and went to sex up his boyfriend (Kurt was never really happy about the two in the morning full moon visits, but he couldn't help that he got restless! Truly!).
All he knew for sure about it was that the world was swimming with creatures that, until a few decades ago, were thought to belong solely in fantasy books and fictional movies/TV shows, and the William McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio had been affectionately renamed Creature High by the locals since the '60's at least.
II
“Puck, get your hands off my boy.”
Puck growled in the back of his throat, opening his eyes enough to glare at the pissed off girl standing beside them, hands on her hips and fingers tapping. He separated their lips, pulling his tongue back into his own mouth after one last exploration and gently lapped at Kurt's lips. Mercedes made an impatient noise and began to tap her foot but Puck only angled them so she could clearly see him shamelessly massage the smaller boys ass. Kurt rolled his eyes and smacked his chest.
“Sorry Mercy.” Blue-green eyes glared at him until he huffed mimicked the apology. Then winced when Kurt smacked him again and repeated it, this time with a kicked puppy expression and moved his hands to a much more appropriate place.
“I know you are, it's him that's incorrigible,” she scoffed. Bronze scales gleamed in the light as she shifted again, waiting for Kurt to peel himself away from his horny boyfriend, which proved to be easier than previously anticipated. After one more swat to the rear Puck released him and waited for the two to link arms before shoving his hands into his pockets and walking along side them. “C'mon baby, momma wants tots.”
Once they were all settled in their designated seats at their usual table in the cafeteria, Puck took his time to look around with idle interest at the variety of creatures they had gathered. No two of them were the same, and he strained to remember the 'proper' names for each of them. Kurt had read them to him once when they were relaxing after an especially vigorous bout of sex.
There was him, in the first place. His family were pure blood werewolves, had been for decades now, according to his Nana. She said that it was her parents who had taught her, in secret, to control her form so she could change at will, even if the urge was so much stronger at the full moon. And that Hitler didn't just take Jews or gypsies during the Holocaust, but the few creatures that had been found out during that time.
Perched neatly on his lap with a large bottle of water to keep him sustained through lunch was Kurt. Part Siren, which came from his mothers side of the family, with a little hint of bear (which darkened his skin from the light, almost invisible shade of blue it should have been to a pale, almost invisible shade of gray that looked darker in the shadows) that his father had passed on. He thought that Burt's side of the family had a traditional name for what their kind were called, so he leaned forward and nipped the tip of Kurt's pointed ear.
“Hey babe,” he whispered, flicking out his tongue. Kurt twitched and huffed, turning away from the heated debate about what actually constitutes as high notes with a fuming Rachel to raise an exasperated eyebrow.
“Yes? Did you need something?” Heavy on the sarcasm and just the way he liked it. Puck grinned and licked affectionately at the pouting lips while listening with half an ear to Rachel's offended protests in Kurt's directions for suddenly ignoring her.
Like everyone at the table wasn't used to that already.
“I was thinking-” Kurt raised a disbelieving eyebrow, “about what you read to me for history class last week.”
“Wow, thinking not only about something potentially useful, but about school? A new record Noah. I'm proud.” Though the statement still carried a mocking tone, Puck could hear the truth of the it as well underneath.
“Thanks babe.” Puck slipped his hand under the table and squeezed Kurt's thigh, kneading it. “Remember when you were listing the classification chart, or whatever?”
Kurt frowned, sucking thoughtfully at the bottle of water. Puck watched hungrily as his cheeks hollowed when he drew the liquid into his mouth and swallowed, eager for them to be wrapped around something much, much larger. “I recall. What got you thinking of it now?”
“Nothin'. I was just thinking and wanted to know what they called someone like your dad,” he answered with a casual shrug, slipping his hand upward until he reached the crease of Kurt's thigh and massaging it.
“He's what they would technically term an Otso.” Kurt moved his hands down to join Puck's. “A bear spirit. The name is Finnish, and we have some relatives there on his side, though he's primarily German.”
“Thanks Kurt,” he murmured, laying a kiss behind his ear.
“That's all?”
“Yeah, for now.” Puck grinned, lifting his hand to twine with Kurt's.
“Well, you're welcome then,” Kurt answered, turning enough to push their lips together then focusing his attention on Mercedes, who happily struck up a conversation about a trip to the mall (“It's so hard to find nice clothes when you not only need to colour co-ordinate with scales, but have a massive tail.”).
He'd like to see who'd come out on top in a fight between her and the Scorpion King. He's betting on Mercedes Jones kicking his ass; girls nails were fucking poisonous and she was not only a scorp-human hybrid, but she had dragon in her too from her mom. Deadly threesome combo.
Sitting next to her was Quinn, wings folded peacefully and decked out in her Cheerio uniform. She's what passes as a modern day Harpy, but her wings weren't in place of her arms, instead a little off center below her shoulder blades, but Puck thought that that's because of her dad. The crossbreeding that had been going on for the last while had changed the perception of certain creatures, and created new categories.
Still has talons where her feet would be if she was a little more human than her mother, and the elbows of her top bulge just a bit from the bunches of feathers. Furthermore, he has scars from her unnaturally curved fingernails.
Bitch.
His eyes move from Quinn and Mercedes down to the other end of the table, where Artie, Finn, Rachel, and Tina sat. Tina had a large black umbrella propped up behind her, blocking the sun as she sunk her fangs into a bag of blood (from a vegetarian; those were the only people she would drink from, oddly enough. Something about not wanting to harm animals...). He'd asked once how the hell she managed to walk around in the sun being a vampire, and Kurt had grinned at him, mentioning something about sunscreen and make-up being enough shield her overly sensitive skin.
Principal Figgins was still wigged out by her and her family.
Artie was chilling next to her, bottom half coiled enough to keep him eye level with his girlfriend as he choked back a hamburger sheepishly. The name was at the back of his head, had something to do with India or whatever, but Puck bit Kurt's neck to get his attention again. “Hey, what's Artie called again?”
“What?” Kurt's voice was distracted as he looked at something across the room. “Oh, he's a Naga. The original mythology came from India.”
“Cool.” He was right. No surprise there. Artie's tail kind of made it a pain in the ass to dance during glee, but what the hell, it's not like Santana made it any better with her backwards feet. Meh, at least she didn't prance around naked anymore to live up to her Dominican folklore nature; Coach Sylvester put an end to that as soon as she joined the Cheerio's. The experience did wonders for her co-ordination too, so that was a bonus.
Finn was a little more difficult to work out. He had been still born, but Puck was pretty sure that Carole was human, or mostly, at any rate, but one of the doctors at the hospital pulled a Frankenstein (and he'd had it drilled into his head that the monster was not Frankenstein himself; Kurt got annoyed as hell by the common misconception, though fuck if he knew why) and took him apart. They replaced the faulty organs with working ones before his brain got too starved of oxygen and patched him back up. They put in a brace to hold his neck on straight, but the screws seemed to have been a practical joke by one of the staff members.
Carole sure as hell didn't appreciate it.
But whatever, Finn adapted as he grew up, though Carole never could get a man to stay longer than the morning after. As soon as they saw her stitched together boy they ran for the hills, creature or no. Most thought he was a little too much of a freak of nature.
Puck said that they could go die in a hole somewhere then dumpster tossed the losers.
Of course, the circumstances in which he was brought into the world didn't seem to improve his taste in women, if one Rachel Berry was any indication.
Rachel was... well, many would say different things about her; ostentatious as Kurt had said once while sneering at her clothes, pretentious, unique, or wonderful if you were listening to Finn drool over her.
He just said she was annoying as all hell.
Yeah, she had a pretty good voice, when she wasn't screeching at you, or in your general vicinity. Banshee was the term that rang true when it came to Rachel. It was also oddly apparent in the green tinge her skin took for whatever reason when she got angry. It wasn't as attractive as Kurt's darker than average red blush.
Ah well, you win some, you lose some. When it came to Kurt, it was boobs, but he didn't need those to have sex.
His steady mental categorization of each of them was cut off by the abrupt sound of the bell. Kurt turned and grinned, initiating a brief, but hot as hell make out session. He jumped off Puck's lap when hands began to wander and the jock's growing erection made itself known to his backside.
“See you in glee Noah,” Kurt called back as he hightailed it out of the cafeteria, waving over his shoulder at his suddenly bereft and frustrated boyfriend.
Fucking tease.
III
Growling and snarling at everyone after his unattended problem plagued him all day, even after he attempted to relieve it himself, Puck stalked into the choir room, shoving random kids into lockers as he passed. Kurt was there when he strode in, chatting innocently away to Mercedes as if he could do no wrong. Their gossip mongering was cut off when Puck grabbed him and hoisted him to the last row, settling him firmly onto his lap once again.
“Bitch,” he grumbled into Kurt's ear. He buried his face in the thin neck, newly elongated canines nipping at the smooth skin.
“You wouldn't have it any other way,” Kurt purred, humming a few seductive notes into Puck's ear. Hazel eyes rolled back and a shiver worked its way through the thickly muscled body. Before Puck could give in to his hormones and throw Kurt to the ground, rutting like animals, Mr. Shue clomped into the room.
“Okay everybody! Let's start off-” Rachel stood, cutting off their teacher.
“Mr. Shue, I'd like to start off the day with a song, if you don't mind.” She didn't wait for his reply, walking to the piano and nodding to Brad while Mr. Shue gave an mildly exasperated wave to continue. She launched into a rendition of something or other that Puck paid no attention to, instead choosing to glance around the room at the bored assemblage of people.
Mr. Shue was leaning against the piano, hooves crossed and ears tilted forward as he listened. Faun came to mind when he thought of Mr. Shue, and the irony when he thought of how the term Kurt read to him about Ms. Pillsbury was Spanish. El Trasgo. No wonder she was a red head. Shaking his head at his teachers inept, virgin almost-romance and Ms. Pillsbury's obsessive need for everything to be absolutely spotless, he moved his attention anywhere that wasn't Rachel.
Britney and Santana sat together, knees and foreheads touching, their pinkies linked, as they giggled about something. Santana smirked and rubbed her reversed foot up and down Britney's calf then leaned up and placed an affectionate kiss at the base of the long white horn protruding from Britney's forehead. The long, thin white tail swayed happily. He thought it was oddly fitting that Britney was such an iconic fantasy creature.
Rachel finished with a flourished bow and flounced back to her seat, staring creepily at Finn, who grinned back awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck, cursing when the stitches around his wrist got caught on his hair. Rachel was out of her seat in an instance, trying to help free him. Puck snorted and nuzzled the back of Kurt's neck, snickering quietly.
“Be nice,” Kurt scolded, voice trembling in his attempt to retain his own mirth.
“Come on babe, you know you're dying to mock them mercilessly,” Puck teased, stretching his jaw and clamping his teeth lightly around Kurt's neck. He kept his eyes peeled on Mr. Shue trying to calm the two up front for a moment before giving up and motioning Mike and Matt forward for their dance routine. While one sense focused up front, the other four were focused on his lover.
“Puck, come on, we're in the middle of glee,” Kurt complained quietly, trying to control his breathing. Rolling his eyes Puck obeyed, resting his chin on Kurt's shoulder and keeping his hands above the waist. With nothing else to keep his interest he turned back surveying all of their teammates.
Mike was a type of Asian dragon, long whiskers protruding from his near his nose and thin, growing horns growing out the top of his head. He kept his claws neatly trimmed on Couch Bieste's demand so he didn't accidentally cut someone when they were playing. It was pretty cool what he could do when he put his mind to it, actually. Major kick ass flips and shit.
“Babe,” he muttered, poking Kurt again, feeling the smaller boy turn curiously. “Matt?”
Kurt shifted, humming a confused note before the meaning of the question clicked in his head and he began to explain. “Matt is an Abada, supposedly the African cousin of the unicorn. He and Britney and practically related through their species.”
Puck nodded and took in Matt's appearance. Two long black horns had sprouted instead of one, evenly spaced on either side of his head. Another complication in football, but they filed them down during games and the next day he came to school with them fully regrown with no signs of negative consequences yet. A long tail, almost exactly like Britney's but brown and with a shorter tuft of hair at the tip swayed as he danced, twining around his leg to escape the fate of sprain by stomping (it happened once in football; he'd been out the rest of the game. Anyone with a tail ran that risk).
He understood completely; his own tail (when it sprouted) was almost as sensitive as his dick. He couldn't imagine spraining it.
With no one else to stare at, glee passed slowly as they rehearsed their songs and danced around the room. Of course, he kept his eyes trained faithfully on one ass throughout all of the routines while waiting to be let out so he could grab his boyfriend and run. Kurt still had to pay for his cock blocking maneuver earlier today, and Puck was going to make sure the lesson stayed with him until next week.
IV
On their way out they bumped into Coach Sylvester, megaphone in hand and a frown on her face. Standing tall and imposing over the two of them with Becky at her side she commanded them to get out of their way (“Move your sorry, mangy ass Curly Cue.”) and reminding Kurt of tomorrows Cheerio practice (“Don't you dare come to me limping Lady. There will be no mercy, not even for the thoroughly screwed.”) before sweeping away in all her Elvish glory with her feline assistant at her side.
“Well, Curly Cue, you'd better save you retribution until tomorrow night,” Kurt said casually, dragging Puck out the doors by their linked arms. “After all, you don't want me completely spent before we even have a chance to have fun.”
“Huh?” Kurt turned and grinned, opening the doors of his Navigator and starting it up, pulling out of the lot.
“I'm just saying. We have all weekend, and I really don't want to be asleep through it all just because of a single day.”
“Fuck yeah!” Puck shouted, punching the air triumphantly as he remembered about Burt's all weekend fishing trip. “Score!”
V
Yeah, they were weird and the world had taken a turn for the bizarre, but all those idiots who thought it was something scary and new and caused by radiation or mutation could take their half-baked conspiracy theories and shove them up their own asses. They obviously didn't know what the hell they were talking about, because everyone in the school could trace their lineage back way farther than that, and wasn't there always some form of truth to the myths?
Of course there was. Idiots.