Under the Mistletoe
Title: Under the Mistletoe
Author: xallegedlyx
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Hummel, what do you think you're doing standing right there?
Disclaimer: Do not own, do not sue.
“Hummel. What do you think you’re doing there?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what do you think you’re doing standing right there? Exactly in that spot?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have just as much right to stand here as anyone. I was invited to this party too you know.” Puck feels a sort of immediate reaction to add that it happens to be the first official high school party Kurt’s ever been invited to. But he stops himself. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to say things like that sometimes. It’s not that he means it.
The truth is, Kurt looks great. And this is not what Puck needs. He’s busy trying to win Quinn back so he can get his baby and everything, and he’d really like to hit some more milfs along the way. And showing Santana that he could be a great partner, financially speaking, would be good too. Just to stick it to them all.
So he’s not sure what’s drawn him over to this particular corner of the party. Brittany’s thrown a huge Christmas party and invited seriously everyone. The place is just crawling with cheerios and jocks and Puck needs to impress all of them if he wants to solidify his social standing after his bro Finn fell from grace when he sperminated the Quinnster. (supposedly) There’s a serious vacancy open for Head Jock. Esp among the cheerios, if you know what Puck means. It’s a role that Puck’s definitely all over. So he needs to be like networking, man. Owning the place. So what’s he doing approaching the gay kid in a nonviolent way? Puck has just about as much idea as anyone.
Brittany invited the Glee club too. She has a big heart, and even though none of them want to admit it, the Glee kids have kind of worked their way into the hearts of the cheerios and jocks they perform with. Sometimes it seems like a whole family. So Brittany invited them. Which led to this whole chain of events. Puck was hitting on some girl on the high school’s tennis team when he caught sight of gay kid across the room. Kind of standing there both awkwardly and like he was the owner of this residence, thank you very much. Puck couldn’t resist.
Now, before you draw conclusions, just know. Puck is not gay. Just because he’s secretly harbored a little yearning that has caused him to fantasize about a certain boy for the past couple of years doesn’t make him a gay. Just because said fantasy evolved into a sort of pigtail-pulling type of bullying since the first day of freshman year, picking on him and all his little friends in a way that almost reminds him of Helga from Hey Arnold, does not make him gay. At all. He loves women. Tits are the bomb. You got that?
But he’s across the room and all up in Kurt’s grill before he changes his mind.
“I don’t think you want to stand in that particular spot.”
“What are you talking about?” Kurt’s looking at him like he’s insane. And really, Puck doesn’t blame him. He showed up to this little shin-dig in a wrinkled American Eagle t-shirt and the same pants we wore yesterday. Kurt, meanwhile, has donned this pair of slim gray jeans and a bottle green sweater that makes his eyes as clear and splendid as a forest after the rain.
“Dude, look up.” Sure enough, there it is. Britt and Santana went a little crazy with the mistletoe this year. Every few feet there’s a sprig of it. Not a lot of people pay attention to it. It’s optional, obviously. So Puck doesn’t know why he’s about to press the issue. Puck doesn’t know a lot of things.
Kurt’s eyes widen when he realizes. It’s the sort of thing that Puck loves. Knowing that’s he’s had an effect on someone. And Kurt just makes it so cute. No matter how hard he tries to mask it, emotions show so well on Kurt’s expressive face. A lot of people seem to think the eyebrow-raised, pursed-lip look is the only one Kurt makes, but Puck knows better. He’s studied the kid long enough now to know there are a hundred different little variations. Lips pursed in disdain, eyebrow raised in skepticism, eyes crushed closed in misery. It’s all there, you just gotta watch for it. Puck especially loves it when he gets the shock and awe expression. The one that’s going on right now.
“Well that’s just too bad.” Kurt quickly composes himself. The little half-raised eyebrow here means he’s nervous, Puck knows. Kurt quickly steps out from under his little mistletoe area.
“It’s too late now. Somebody’s gotta kiss you.” Puck says. Even he’s not sure what his tone is. Suggestive? Attractive? Annoyed? He wanted it to be all sultry and seductive, but somewhere along the way he remembered that this is Kurt Hummel and not some cheerio he can bang and not suffer any consequences (the only consequence to date being the little muffin in Quinn’s oven). If he bangs Kurt Hummel there’s social hierarchy to consider, parents’ and friends’ reactions, the whole Do I Want A Relationship With the Person of My Dreams? Issue rears its ugly head, and dude, the sheer mechanics of gay sex kinda freak him out. But he still wants to kiss Kurt.
“Um, you know. I think I’m okay without being kissed right now.” Puck’s so surprised he stops the looming predatory advance he’s started to make. He’s caught Kurt so far off guard that the guy doesn’t have his usual witty retort. Now that’s sexy.
“Oh come on,” Puck’s recomposed and advancing again now, stepping closer into Kurt’s little personal space bubble. Kurt’s very touchy about his personal space bubble. The only person Kurt allows to enter the bubble willingly is Mercedes. But Puck advances anyway. He’s sure Kurt would be objecting were it not for the sweltering gaze Puck has fixed on him. The hand Puck has placed on the back of his neck. The finger that tips Kurt’s chin up just a little.
Kurt’s eyes are wide. His nose is long and straight. His skin is clear and practically glowing. Puck’s always known Kurt had a great complexion, but shit. Kurt smells like soap and peppermint a little. His lips are full and scrumptious-looking as they press together. Puck goes in before he can second-guess himself on this one. He’s been second-guessing himself for years and it’s gotten him nowhere but into slutty girls’ pants.
Kurt’s never kissed anyone before, and Puck can tell. It’s kind of awkward at first. Puck lays one on him softly and then their teeth sort of bump when Kurt moves to respond. The angle of their heads gets a little funny. Kurt’s very unsure and doesn’t really know where to put his face in relation to the rest of his mouth. But Puck doesn’t deny that once he figures it out, it’s magical. Puck’s never been the type of guy to see stars or fireworks or whatever, but boy does he see them now. As bright and shiny as the tinsel and the xmas lights decorating every square inch of this building.
It’s over as quickly as it started though. They’re left standing there, Puck’s hands on Kurt’s face and Kurt’s hands very lightly on Puck’s sides. They’re not too close together, but not too far. Puck decides this doesn’t bother him all that much. The thought of being any farther away from Kurt seems really unpleasant.
“You want to get out of here?” Puck asks, and he’s just as surprised as Kurt looks that he asked. They’re not supposed to exit the party together. Puck’s supposed to spend the evening pounding eggnog and teenage girls. And he doubts Kurt’s going to put out like that. But honestly, that girl on the tennis team has nothing on the kid on the glee club as far as Puck’s concerned.
So Puck decides, screw it. Life’s too short. He slings his arm over the other boy’s skinny shoulders and walks him to the front door, ignoring the unabashedly surprised stares from all the party-goers. They can screw themselves.
Author: xallegedlyx
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Hummel, what do you think you're doing standing right there?
Disclaimer: Do not own, do not sue.
“Hummel. What do you think you’re doing there?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what do you think you’re doing standing right there? Exactly in that spot?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have just as much right to stand here as anyone. I was invited to this party too you know.” Puck feels a sort of immediate reaction to add that it happens to be the first official high school party Kurt’s ever been invited to. But he stops himself. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to say things like that sometimes. It’s not that he means it.
The truth is, Kurt looks great. And this is not what Puck needs. He’s busy trying to win Quinn back so he can get his baby and everything, and he’d really like to hit some more milfs along the way. And showing Santana that he could be a great partner, financially speaking, would be good too. Just to stick it to them all.
So he’s not sure what’s drawn him over to this particular corner of the party. Brittany’s thrown a huge Christmas party and invited seriously everyone. The place is just crawling with cheerios and jocks and Puck needs to impress all of them if he wants to solidify his social standing after his bro Finn fell from grace when he sperminated the Quinnster. (supposedly) There’s a serious vacancy open for Head Jock. Esp among the cheerios, if you know what Puck means. It’s a role that Puck’s definitely all over. So he needs to be like networking, man. Owning the place. So what’s he doing approaching the gay kid in a nonviolent way? Puck has just about as much idea as anyone.
Brittany invited the Glee club too. She has a big heart, and even though none of them want to admit it, the Glee kids have kind of worked their way into the hearts of the cheerios and jocks they perform with. Sometimes it seems like a whole family. So Brittany invited them. Which led to this whole chain of events. Puck was hitting on some girl on the high school’s tennis team when he caught sight of gay kid across the room. Kind of standing there both awkwardly and like he was the owner of this residence, thank you very much. Puck couldn’t resist.
Now, before you draw conclusions, just know. Puck is not gay. Just because he’s secretly harbored a little yearning that has caused him to fantasize about a certain boy for the past couple of years doesn’t make him a gay. Just because said fantasy evolved into a sort of pigtail-pulling type of bullying since the first day of freshman year, picking on him and all his little friends in a way that almost reminds him of Helga from Hey Arnold, does not make him gay. At all. He loves women. Tits are the bomb. You got that?
But he’s across the room and all up in Kurt’s grill before he changes his mind.
“I don’t think you want to stand in that particular spot.”
“What are you talking about?” Kurt’s looking at him like he’s insane. And really, Puck doesn’t blame him. He showed up to this little shin-dig in a wrinkled American Eagle t-shirt and the same pants we wore yesterday. Kurt, meanwhile, has donned this pair of slim gray jeans and a bottle green sweater that makes his eyes as clear and splendid as a forest after the rain.
“Dude, look up.” Sure enough, there it is. Britt and Santana went a little crazy with the mistletoe this year. Every few feet there’s a sprig of it. Not a lot of people pay attention to it. It’s optional, obviously. So Puck doesn’t know why he’s about to press the issue. Puck doesn’t know a lot of things.
Kurt’s eyes widen when he realizes. It’s the sort of thing that Puck loves. Knowing that’s he’s had an effect on someone. And Kurt just makes it so cute. No matter how hard he tries to mask it, emotions show so well on Kurt’s expressive face. A lot of people seem to think the eyebrow-raised, pursed-lip look is the only one Kurt makes, but Puck knows better. He’s studied the kid long enough now to know there are a hundred different little variations. Lips pursed in disdain, eyebrow raised in skepticism, eyes crushed closed in misery. It’s all there, you just gotta watch for it. Puck especially loves it when he gets the shock and awe expression. The one that’s going on right now.
“Well that’s just too bad.” Kurt quickly composes himself. The little half-raised eyebrow here means he’s nervous, Puck knows. Kurt quickly steps out from under his little mistletoe area.
“It’s too late now. Somebody’s gotta kiss you.” Puck says. Even he’s not sure what his tone is. Suggestive? Attractive? Annoyed? He wanted it to be all sultry and seductive, but somewhere along the way he remembered that this is Kurt Hummel and not some cheerio he can bang and not suffer any consequences (the only consequence to date being the little muffin in Quinn’s oven). If he bangs Kurt Hummel there’s social hierarchy to consider, parents’ and friends’ reactions, the whole Do I Want A Relationship With the Person of My Dreams? Issue rears its ugly head, and dude, the sheer mechanics of gay sex kinda freak him out. But he still wants to kiss Kurt.
“Um, you know. I think I’m okay without being kissed right now.” Puck’s so surprised he stops the looming predatory advance he’s started to make. He’s caught Kurt so far off guard that the guy doesn’t have his usual witty retort. Now that’s sexy.
“Oh come on,” Puck’s recomposed and advancing again now, stepping closer into Kurt’s little personal space bubble. Kurt’s very touchy about his personal space bubble. The only person Kurt allows to enter the bubble willingly is Mercedes. But Puck advances anyway. He’s sure Kurt would be objecting were it not for the sweltering gaze Puck has fixed on him. The hand Puck has placed on the back of his neck. The finger that tips Kurt’s chin up just a little.
Kurt’s eyes are wide. His nose is long and straight. His skin is clear and practically glowing. Puck’s always known Kurt had a great complexion, but shit. Kurt smells like soap and peppermint a little. His lips are full and scrumptious-looking as they press together. Puck goes in before he can second-guess himself on this one. He’s been second-guessing himself for years and it’s gotten him nowhere but into slutty girls’ pants.
Kurt’s never kissed anyone before, and Puck can tell. It’s kind of awkward at first. Puck lays one on him softly and then their teeth sort of bump when Kurt moves to respond. The angle of their heads gets a little funny. Kurt’s very unsure and doesn’t really know where to put his face in relation to the rest of his mouth. But Puck doesn’t deny that once he figures it out, it’s magical. Puck’s never been the type of guy to see stars or fireworks or whatever, but boy does he see them now. As bright and shiny as the tinsel and the xmas lights decorating every square inch of this building.
It’s over as quickly as it started though. They’re left standing there, Puck’s hands on Kurt’s face and Kurt’s hands very lightly on Puck’s sides. They’re not too close together, but not too far. Puck decides this doesn’t bother him all that much. The thought of being any farther away from Kurt seems really unpleasant.
“You want to get out of here?” Puck asks, and he’s just as surprised as Kurt looks that he asked. They’re not supposed to exit the party together. Puck’s supposed to spend the evening pounding eggnog and teenage girls. And he doubts Kurt’s going to put out like that. But honestly, that girl on the tennis team has nothing on the kid on the glee club as far as Puck’s concerned.
So Puck decides, screw it. Life’s too short. He slings his arm over the other boy’s skinny shoulders and walks him to the front door, ignoring the unabashedly surprised stares from all the party-goers. They can screw themselves.