Fic: Those Old Streetscapes 1/? (Glee, Puck/Kurt, PG)
Title: Those Old Streetscapes 1/?
Fandom: Glee/So You Think You Can Dance
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Rating: PG (but you've met me, so.)
Word count: 2700
Warnings: Cheesiness. Lack of dance knowledge. Random Cat Deeley fangirling.
Summary: AU. Kurt's a classically trained dancer who has trouble connecting to his audience. Puck's a novice b-boy with loads of charisma and not a whole lot else. When they meet at the New York auditions for So You Think You Can Dance, both their lives change in more ways than they anticipated.
A/N: I want everyone who encouraged me to write this to know that I hate you and I'm never speaking to you again. Here's how this is going to work: One fic a week during SYTYCD's current season, to coincide with the events of the episode. That means Auditions Week will continue in the next part. The number of installments might go up or down, depending on the season (but probably not down.) Unbetaed; mistakes are, of course, mine.
Week One: Auditions
When Kurt was a kid growing up in Ohio, New York had seemed impossibly far away, almost like it was another world entirely. Once he was old enough to drive, he realized that New York wasn’t beyond his grasp after all, and he’d begun plotting to escape from his little town with its little people and go to the big city where he wouldn’t be a freak anymore.
Now that he was standing on the crowded sidewalk waiting for Cat Deeley and the camera crew to appear and start doing pre-interviews, New York was starting to feel like a foreign country again.
His friends had offered to come with him into the city. His dad had offered to come, though Kurt was fairly sure that was more a case of his father worrying he was going to get himself killed than wanting to be there for his audition. Whatever his motivations, it had been tempting to say yes, just so Kurt wouldn’t have to face New York City on his own for the first time.
But in the end he knew this was something he needed to do alone, if only to prove to himself that he could leave Ohio and not fall flat on his face.
Then again, it was hard to feel alone in a crowd this size. The energy was contagious, and Kurt felt himself bouncing a little to the music blaring out of a portable stereo someone had brought along. There was a crew of street dancers showing off nearby, two guys and a girl all moving in sync. Kurt didn’t know much about break dancing, but he thought the Asian guy was doing that popping and locking thing they talked about on the show sometimes.
He was clearly the most gifted dancer of the three; it was easy to tell from the lines of his body that he’d done some classical training as well, and Kurt privately assumed that of the three of them, he’d be the one to make it onto the show. The girl wasn’t bad either, but she didn’t have the classical training the Asian guy did, and it was obvious she was used to relying on her sex appeal to sell her performance.
The second guy was the least polished of them all, but there was something about him that kept drawing Kurt’s eye. It might have been the ridiculous mohawk, or the way his baggy jeans seemed to be clinging to his hips out of sheer determination. It might have been his chiseled features, or even his delighted smile whenever one of his crew performed a particularly impressive trick. But there was something else about him too, a kind of charisma that drew the audience in and made them cheer for him even though he was obviously pretty raw.
He performed a complicated spin and then flipped himself back onto his feet, seemingly without ever touching the ground, and Kurt joined in with the rest of the crowd around them to give him a round of applause. The guy smiled, glancing up and locking eyes with Kurt for a second. It barely lasted the length of a heartbeat, but somehow that single look sent a thrill down Kurt’s spine he hadn’t felt in...well, ever. And he knew better than to think it meant anything, but it told him exactly what made this guy so compelling to watch in spite of the fact that he wasn’t trained at all.
He had it, that ubiquitous quality that Nigel and the other judges always talked about. That force that pulled people into his orbit, that made them want to watch him, no matter what he was doing. He commanded attention with his entire being, and Kurt had years of training under his belt, but that was the one thing he couldn’t learn.
When he realized he was staring Kurt flushed and looked away. It was sort of intimidating, being surrounded by so much talent, but he wasn’t about to let his confidence be shaken by some b-boy with too much testosterone and a little charisma. Kurt was a talented dancer and he knew it, and he had no doubt that he’d be sent straight through to Vegas as soon as the judges saw what he could do.
~
Once the auditions actually started they let the crowd into the auditorium to watch. Puck and his crew had already gotten a decent amount of time on-camera -- that was the whole point of putting on a show while they were waiting in line to get their numbers, after all -- and Cat Deeley herself had come out to talk to them. That was a good sign, Puck was pretty sure. It meant they’d probably end up on TV, even if they didn’t make the cut for the semi-finals, and that would make his little sister happy, anyway.
He was pretty sure Mike would get through. Mike was the best dancer Puck had ever seen, and he was the one who wanted it most, so Puck hoped he did make it. Puck wasn’t really expecting to go with him; he’d only been dancing for a couple years, mostly just messing around with Mike and the rest of their friends, and he knew he didn’t have the chops the rest of them did. They’d seen a bunch of really talented kids up on the stage already, and compared to them Puck was still an amateur.
The kid up on stage right now was pretty amazing. He was doing some kind of modern dance to a totally depressing song, the kind of routine that usually left at least one judge snotty and covered in mascara on the actual show. And the kid was good; he was throwing himself around like he was going to take flight any second, and even though he wasn’t that tall, he managed to make himself look bigger when he was on stage.
But he kept his eyes down the whole time, this kind of fierce, determined expression on his face, like he was so focused on the routine that he forgot he had an audience. All that intensity was kind of hot, but he wasn’t connecting with the judges, and Puck had seen enough of the show to know he was going to take a hit for that.
Sure enough, when he finished and walked up to the edge of the stage, cheeks flushed kind of pink and smoothing his hair back into place, Puck could tell just by the set of the judges’ backs that the kid wasn’t the shoe-in he probably thought he was.
“Kurt Hummel,” Nigel said, glancing down at the resume in front of him before he looked back up at the kid, “you’re from Ohio?”
“Lima,” Kurt said, and Puck had never heard of it, but it wasn’t like he knew anything about Ohio.
“Your technique is flawless,” Nigel said, and when Kurt’s mouth curved into a pleased little smile Puck winced in anticipation of the hit he was about to take. “Which is why I’m so disappointed at the lack of emotion in your performance.”
“I’m afraid I have to agree with Nigel,” the next judge said, some chick with blond hair Puck didn’t recognize. “You dance beautifully, so I wanted to feel the emotion you were conveying, but I just didn’t get that connection from you.”
The third judge, some guy with curly hair and a killer smile, said pretty much the same thing. He was still going on about dance being about the story you’re telling when Puck tuned him out, focusing instead on the way Kurt’s smile faltered a little more with every word. His cheeks kept getting redder and redder, but that was the only sign that he was taking the criticism hard, and Puck had to give him credit for holding his head up and nodding like he agreed with whatever they were saying.
“So is it a yes or a no?” Nigel finally said, cutting off the curly-haired judge in mid-sentence.
“I’d like to see more of what you can do. Yes to choreography,” the third judge said, smile still firmly in place, and Kurt managed to smile back in a more or less convincing way.
“I’m sorry, it’s a no for me,” the chick said, and Puck scowled at the back of her head while Kurt nodded and flashed a less convincing smile in her direction.
“It’s a tough call,” Nigel said, drawing it out for the cameras, and Puck rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat while he waited for them to put the kid out of his misery. “But on the strength of your technique, I’m going to say yes to choreography.”
“Thank you,” Kurt said, nodding and heading for the stairs, shoulders falling a little, like maybe he’d expected a ticket to Vegas. And Puck could see why he’d think that; he was probably used to people telling him how good he was, and hearing that flawless technique wasn’t enough had to be a pretty big blow.
A few seconds later he was gone, heading out of the theater to fake a smile for the post-audition interview and then hours of sitting around wherever they stuck the dancers who had to go through choreography. Puck was pretty sure he wasn’t even going to make it that far, though, so he figured that was the last he’d see of Kurt from Ohio.
~
Kurt wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting in the holding area when someone threw themselves on the floor next to him. He looked up, blinking in surprise at the sight of familiar brown eyes and a smirk that could probably get someone arrested.
“Hey,” the b-boy with the mohawk said, and Kurt felt his skin heat up just at the sound of the guy’s voice. “Kurt, right? I saw your audition. You’re good.”
“Thanks,” Kurt said, frowning as he tried to figure out why someone like this would remember his audition, let alone his name, then seek him out to talk about it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”
“Puck,” he said, holding out a hand, and when Kurt took it he felt a jolt of electricity run through him.
“Are your parents big Shakespeare fans or something?”
Puck laughed, his smile a little lopsided, and Kurt found himself smiling back. “My name’s Noah Puckerman, but nobody calls me Noah except my family.”
Privately Kurt thought that was sort of a shame, but he kept his opinion to himself. They didn’t know each other, after all, and chances were they wouldn’t both make it to the semi-finals anyway. The truth was he was a little surprised Puck had been put through to choreography, but he knew better than to say that out loud too.
“I missed your audition, but I saw you and your friends dancing outside. Are you the only one who made it this far?”
Puck laughed again, and Kurt didn’t really get the joke, but he didn’t get the impression Puck was making fun of him. “Mike got a ticket to Vegas. They’d be crazy not to put him straight through. Santana got cut.”
Kurt’s eyebrows went up at that, and Puck laughed for the third time. It was a nice laugh, and Kurt was pretty sure he could get used to it.
“I know what you’re thinking. How’d I get through to choreography, right? No, it’s cool,” he said when Kurt opened his mouth to stammer some kind of excuse. “I thought the same thing. Hell, so did she. Truth is I’m pretty sure they only put me through because they think I have an interesting story. Single dad, did some time, trying to straighten himself out through dancing, you know. They’ll probably play the clip of my interview like five times during the auditions, whether I make it or not.”
He was probably right, at least if past seasons were anything to go by. Kurt opened his mouth to say that Puck had just as much a chance of making it as anyone else, but what came out was, “You don’t look old enough to be someone’s dad.”
And there was that laugh again, doing strange things to his insides and Kurt willed himself not to blush.
“That’s what makes it a good story. I was in high school when she was born. Then I did something stupid to try to prove I could provide for her and her mom, and I landed myself in juvie for awhile. When I got out her mom decided she didn’t really want to be a mom after all, and when she bailed Beth moved in with me and my mom.”
While he talked he was reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his wallet and flipping it open. He leaned into Kurt and held out the wallet, and when Kurt saw a picture of a little girl with dirty blond hair and big brown eyes smiling up at him, he couldn’t help smiling back.
“She’s beautiful,” he said, telling himself he wasn’t disappointed that Puck wasn’t gay.
The odds had only been about fifty-fifty to begin with, and even if he was into guys, there was no reason for Kurt to think Puck would be into him. So it didn’t matter, but it was nice to have someone to talk to, if for no other reason than to take his mind off the stress of waiting hours for the choreography round to begin.
“Thanks,” Puck said, grinning and sliding his wallet back into his pocket. “Anyway, she’s the reason they sent me through, but I don’t know how to do any of that contemporary stuff or, like, the waltz or whatever. No way am I making it to Vegas.”
Kurt glanced around the room, but none of the other dancers were paying any attention to them. Most of them were listening to mp3 players or stretching, and a few were texting or talking in whispers into their cell phones. When he turned back to Puck Kurt found Puck watching him, dark eyes staring as though he could see right into Kurt, and it was a little unnerving, but mostly it was kind of hot. He suppressed a shudder and told himself not to blush, then he cleared his throat and leaned a little closer.
“I could show you a few things, if you want. I mean, obviously I can’t teach you how to execute a perfect waltz in a couple hours, but I could give you some pointers.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
Kurt shrugged, cheeks flushing in spite of his best efforts. “It’s not as though we have anything better to do, right?”
Just for a second Puck’s eyes got a little darker, and if Kurt hadn’t just finished telling Puck how beautiful his daughter was, he might think Puck was imagining some of the other things they could do to pass the time. But before he could let his imagination get the best of him Puck grinned and pushed himself off the floor, then he reached down to grab Kurt’s hand and pull him to his feet.
“That’s pretty cool of you, dude.”
“Well, I can’t guarantee it’ll make any difference, but it probably won’t hurt.”
He led Puck down the hall away from the rest of the contestants, around a corner to the spot where the hallway dead-ended at the entrance to the stairs. Once he was sure they were alone he turned to Puck, taking in his stance and the jeans that looked like they were going to fall off any second.
“Have you had any formal training at all?”
Puck shook his head, and Kurt had to work hard not to let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t altogether sure that he wasn’t about to make Puck’s chances at getting through even worse, but at least he got to spend some time touching a really hot guy. And even if Puck was straight, it was still a lot better than spending the next few hours staring at the wall and trying to figure out where his own audition had gone so horribly wrong.
Part Two: Auditions (cont.)
Fandom: Glee/So You Think You Can Dance
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Rating: PG (but you've met me, so.)
Word count: 2700
Warnings: Cheesiness. Lack of dance knowledge. Random Cat Deeley fangirling.
Summary: AU. Kurt's a classically trained dancer who has trouble connecting to his audience. Puck's a novice b-boy with loads of charisma and not a whole lot else. When they meet at the New York auditions for So You Think You Can Dance, both their lives change in more ways than they anticipated.
A/N: I want everyone who encouraged me to write this to know that I hate you and I'm never speaking to you again. Here's how this is going to work: One fic a week during SYTYCD's current season, to coincide with the events of the episode. That means Auditions Week will continue in the next part. The number of installments might go up or down, depending on the season (but probably not down.) Unbetaed; mistakes are, of course, mine.
Week One: Auditions
When Kurt was a kid growing up in Ohio, New York had seemed impossibly far away, almost like it was another world entirely. Once he was old enough to drive, he realized that New York wasn’t beyond his grasp after all, and he’d begun plotting to escape from his little town with its little people and go to the big city where he wouldn’t be a freak anymore.
Now that he was standing on the crowded sidewalk waiting for Cat Deeley and the camera crew to appear and start doing pre-interviews, New York was starting to feel like a foreign country again.
His friends had offered to come with him into the city. His dad had offered to come, though Kurt was fairly sure that was more a case of his father worrying he was going to get himself killed than wanting to be there for his audition. Whatever his motivations, it had been tempting to say yes, just so Kurt wouldn’t have to face New York City on his own for the first time.
But in the end he knew this was something he needed to do alone, if only to prove to himself that he could leave Ohio and not fall flat on his face.
Then again, it was hard to feel alone in a crowd this size. The energy was contagious, and Kurt felt himself bouncing a little to the music blaring out of a portable stereo someone had brought along. There was a crew of street dancers showing off nearby, two guys and a girl all moving in sync. Kurt didn’t know much about break dancing, but he thought the Asian guy was doing that popping and locking thing they talked about on the show sometimes.
He was clearly the most gifted dancer of the three; it was easy to tell from the lines of his body that he’d done some classical training as well, and Kurt privately assumed that of the three of them, he’d be the one to make it onto the show. The girl wasn’t bad either, but she didn’t have the classical training the Asian guy did, and it was obvious she was used to relying on her sex appeal to sell her performance.
The second guy was the least polished of them all, but there was something about him that kept drawing Kurt’s eye. It might have been the ridiculous mohawk, or the way his baggy jeans seemed to be clinging to his hips out of sheer determination. It might have been his chiseled features, or even his delighted smile whenever one of his crew performed a particularly impressive trick. But there was something else about him too, a kind of charisma that drew the audience in and made them cheer for him even though he was obviously pretty raw.
He performed a complicated spin and then flipped himself back onto his feet, seemingly without ever touching the ground, and Kurt joined in with the rest of the crowd around them to give him a round of applause. The guy smiled, glancing up and locking eyes with Kurt for a second. It barely lasted the length of a heartbeat, but somehow that single look sent a thrill down Kurt’s spine he hadn’t felt in...well, ever. And he knew better than to think it meant anything, but it told him exactly what made this guy so compelling to watch in spite of the fact that he wasn’t trained at all.
He had it, that ubiquitous quality that Nigel and the other judges always talked about. That force that pulled people into his orbit, that made them want to watch him, no matter what he was doing. He commanded attention with his entire being, and Kurt had years of training under his belt, but that was the one thing he couldn’t learn.
When he realized he was staring Kurt flushed and looked away. It was sort of intimidating, being surrounded by so much talent, but he wasn’t about to let his confidence be shaken by some b-boy with too much testosterone and a little charisma. Kurt was a talented dancer and he knew it, and he had no doubt that he’d be sent straight through to Vegas as soon as the judges saw what he could do.
~
Once the auditions actually started they let the crowd into the auditorium to watch. Puck and his crew had already gotten a decent amount of time on-camera -- that was the whole point of putting on a show while they were waiting in line to get their numbers, after all -- and Cat Deeley herself had come out to talk to them. That was a good sign, Puck was pretty sure. It meant they’d probably end up on TV, even if they didn’t make the cut for the semi-finals, and that would make his little sister happy, anyway.
He was pretty sure Mike would get through. Mike was the best dancer Puck had ever seen, and he was the one who wanted it most, so Puck hoped he did make it. Puck wasn’t really expecting to go with him; he’d only been dancing for a couple years, mostly just messing around with Mike and the rest of their friends, and he knew he didn’t have the chops the rest of them did. They’d seen a bunch of really talented kids up on the stage already, and compared to them Puck was still an amateur.
The kid up on stage right now was pretty amazing. He was doing some kind of modern dance to a totally depressing song, the kind of routine that usually left at least one judge snotty and covered in mascara on the actual show. And the kid was good; he was throwing himself around like he was going to take flight any second, and even though he wasn’t that tall, he managed to make himself look bigger when he was on stage.
But he kept his eyes down the whole time, this kind of fierce, determined expression on his face, like he was so focused on the routine that he forgot he had an audience. All that intensity was kind of hot, but he wasn’t connecting with the judges, and Puck had seen enough of the show to know he was going to take a hit for that.
Sure enough, when he finished and walked up to the edge of the stage, cheeks flushed kind of pink and smoothing his hair back into place, Puck could tell just by the set of the judges’ backs that the kid wasn’t the shoe-in he probably thought he was.
“Kurt Hummel,” Nigel said, glancing down at the resume in front of him before he looked back up at the kid, “you’re from Ohio?”
“Lima,” Kurt said, and Puck had never heard of it, but it wasn’t like he knew anything about Ohio.
“Your technique is flawless,” Nigel said, and when Kurt’s mouth curved into a pleased little smile Puck winced in anticipation of the hit he was about to take. “Which is why I’m so disappointed at the lack of emotion in your performance.”
“I’m afraid I have to agree with Nigel,” the next judge said, some chick with blond hair Puck didn’t recognize. “You dance beautifully, so I wanted to feel the emotion you were conveying, but I just didn’t get that connection from you.”
The third judge, some guy with curly hair and a killer smile, said pretty much the same thing. He was still going on about dance being about the story you’re telling when Puck tuned him out, focusing instead on the way Kurt’s smile faltered a little more with every word. His cheeks kept getting redder and redder, but that was the only sign that he was taking the criticism hard, and Puck had to give him credit for holding his head up and nodding like he agreed with whatever they were saying.
“So is it a yes or a no?” Nigel finally said, cutting off the curly-haired judge in mid-sentence.
“I’d like to see more of what you can do. Yes to choreography,” the third judge said, smile still firmly in place, and Kurt managed to smile back in a more or less convincing way.
“I’m sorry, it’s a no for me,” the chick said, and Puck scowled at the back of her head while Kurt nodded and flashed a less convincing smile in her direction.
“It’s a tough call,” Nigel said, drawing it out for the cameras, and Puck rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat while he waited for them to put the kid out of his misery. “But on the strength of your technique, I’m going to say yes to choreography.”
“Thank you,” Kurt said, nodding and heading for the stairs, shoulders falling a little, like maybe he’d expected a ticket to Vegas. And Puck could see why he’d think that; he was probably used to people telling him how good he was, and hearing that flawless technique wasn’t enough had to be a pretty big blow.
A few seconds later he was gone, heading out of the theater to fake a smile for the post-audition interview and then hours of sitting around wherever they stuck the dancers who had to go through choreography. Puck was pretty sure he wasn’t even going to make it that far, though, so he figured that was the last he’d see of Kurt from Ohio.
~
Kurt wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting in the holding area when someone threw themselves on the floor next to him. He looked up, blinking in surprise at the sight of familiar brown eyes and a smirk that could probably get someone arrested.
“Hey,” the b-boy with the mohawk said, and Kurt felt his skin heat up just at the sound of the guy’s voice. “Kurt, right? I saw your audition. You’re good.”
“Thanks,” Kurt said, frowning as he tried to figure out why someone like this would remember his audition, let alone his name, then seek him out to talk about it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”
“Puck,” he said, holding out a hand, and when Kurt took it he felt a jolt of electricity run through him.
“Are your parents big Shakespeare fans or something?”
Puck laughed, his smile a little lopsided, and Kurt found himself smiling back. “My name’s Noah Puckerman, but nobody calls me Noah except my family.”
Privately Kurt thought that was sort of a shame, but he kept his opinion to himself. They didn’t know each other, after all, and chances were they wouldn’t both make it to the semi-finals anyway. The truth was he was a little surprised Puck had been put through to choreography, but he knew better than to say that out loud too.
“I missed your audition, but I saw you and your friends dancing outside. Are you the only one who made it this far?”
Puck laughed again, and Kurt didn’t really get the joke, but he didn’t get the impression Puck was making fun of him. “Mike got a ticket to Vegas. They’d be crazy not to put him straight through. Santana got cut.”
Kurt’s eyebrows went up at that, and Puck laughed for the third time. It was a nice laugh, and Kurt was pretty sure he could get used to it.
“I know what you’re thinking. How’d I get through to choreography, right? No, it’s cool,” he said when Kurt opened his mouth to stammer some kind of excuse. “I thought the same thing. Hell, so did she. Truth is I’m pretty sure they only put me through because they think I have an interesting story. Single dad, did some time, trying to straighten himself out through dancing, you know. They’ll probably play the clip of my interview like five times during the auditions, whether I make it or not.”
He was probably right, at least if past seasons were anything to go by. Kurt opened his mouth to say that Puck had just as much a chance of making it as anyone else, but what came out was, “You don’t look old enough to be someone’s dad.”
And there was that laugh again, doing strange things to his insides and Kurt willed himself not to blush.
“That’s what makes it a good story. I was in high school when she was born. Then I did something stupid to try to prove I could provide for her and her mom, and I landed myself in juvie for awhile. When I got out her mom decided she didn’t really want to be a mom after all, and when she bailed Beth moved in with me and my mom.”
While he talked he was reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his wallet and flipping it open. He leaned into Kurt and held out the wallet, and when Kurt saw a picture of a little girl with dirty blond hair and big brown eyes smiling up at him, he couldn’t help smiling back.
“She’s beautiful,” he said, telling himself he wasn’t disappointed that Puck wasn’t gay.
The odds had only been about fifty-fifty to begin with, and even if he was into guys, there was no reason for Kurt to think Puck would be into him. So it didn’t matter, but it was nice to have someone to talk to, if for no other reason than to take his mind off the stress of waiting hours for the choreography round to begin.
“Thanks,” Puck said, grinning and sliding his wallet back into his pocket. “Anyway, she’s the reason they sent me through, but I don’t know how to do any of that contemporary stuff or, like, the waltz or whatever. No way am I making it to Vegas.”
Kurt glanced around the room, but none of the other dancers were paying any attention to them. Most of them were listening to mp3 players or stretching, and a few were texting or talking in whispers into their cell phones. When he turned back to Puck Kurt found Puck watching him, dark eyes staring as though he could see right into Kurt, and it was a little unnerving, but mostly it was kind of hot. He suppressed a shudder and told himself not to blush, then he cleared his throat and leaned a little closer.
“I could show you a few things, if you want. I mean, obviously I can’t teach you how to execute a perfect waltz in a couple hours, but I could give you some pointers.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
Kurt shrugged, cheeks flushing in spite of his best efforts. “It’s not as though we have anything better to do, right?”
Just for a second Puck’s eyes got a little darker, and if Kurt hadn’t just finished telling Puck how beautiful his daughter was, he might think Puck was imagining some of the other things they could do to pass the time. But before he could let his imagination get the best of him Puck grinned and pushed himself off the floor, then he reached down to grab Kurt’s hand and pull him to his feet.
“That’s pretty cool of you, dude.”
“Well, I can’t guarantee it’ll make any difference, but it probably won’t hurt.”
He led Puck down the hall away from the rest of the contestants, around a corner to the spot where the hallway dead-ended at the entrance to the stairs. Once he was sure they were alone he turned to Puck, taking in his stance and the jeans that looked like they were going to fall off any second.
“Have you had any formal training at all?”
Puck shook his head, and Kurt had to work hard not to let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t altogether sure that he wasn’t about to make Puck’s chances at getting through even worse, but at least he got to spend some time touching a really hot guy. And even if Puck was straight, it was still a lot better than spending the next few hours staring at the wall and trying to figure out where his own audition had gone so horribly wrong.
Part Two: Auditions (cont.)