please, please, please, let me get what i want (this time) [Glee, Puck/Kurt]
Title: please, please, please, let me get what i want (this time)
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Puck/Kurt (established), Kurt~>Finn, not really Puck~>Quinn
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Glee and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: A song by The Smiths leads to a heart-to-heart of sorts.
A/N: Slight spoilers for “Preggers”, takes place some time afterward
It was pouring down rain. That’d been fine an hour ago, when they’d first parked in the pretty much empty lot and taken the opportunity to engage in an extremely heated make out session (with a few good gropes thrown in, too, of course). But it wasn’t letting up yet and Puck was getting annoyed. He hated driving in heavy rain and Kurt was fun to kiss and all, but his flaming gayness was an acquired taste and he didn’t particularly want to make conversation with the guy. He would’ve preferred to fool around some more, but it seemed Kurt was ready to move on.
“Please tell me you have some decent music in here.” Kurt opened the glove compartment and began looking through the CDs stored inside, shooting Puck a brief, withering look as he came across a condom packet.
Puck crossed his arms and slumped down in his seat, watching the rain make trails down his window. “If you’re looking for Beyoncé , you’re gonna be disappointed.”
“Hmm.” Kurt’s soft sound of piqued curiosity made Puck glance at him. He was holding a CD case in his hand-Louder than Bombs. “You don’t strike me as a Smiths fan.”
Puck raised, lowered one shoulder. “Some great uncle gave it to me for my birthday. He thinks my nickname means that I’m into artistic shit.”
Kurt laughed, a bit incredulously. “Has he seen you? Ever?” Still chuckling to himself, he shook his head in amusement and opened the case, slipping the CD into the player.
Puck leaned his head against the window and sighed. “Sure, go ahead, play it, no need to ask…”
Kurt smirked a little, but ultimately ignored him as he started the CD and skipped to track 11. (Good times for a change…see, the luck I’ve had could make a good man turn bad…so please, please, please let me, let me, let me…let me get what I want this time…)
Vaguely intrigued by the song choice, Puck looked at the boy beside him only to wish, a second later, that he hadn’t. Eyes closed as he listened intently to the gentle music, Kurt was wearing that Unrequited Love face. Puck hated that face.
“So what’s it like?” He asked, fully aware that he was about to be a douche bag, and not really caring.
Kurt arched his eyebrows in acknowledgement, but kept his eyes closed. “What?”
“Being in love with someone who’s just not interested.”
Kurt did look at him, then, slowly, in a way that might’ve looked threatening on somebody else, but it was Kurt, so it didn’t look threatening at all. “Well, why don’t you tell me?” He replied, coolly. “I’ve seen the way you look at Quinn Fabray.”
The corner of Puck’s mouth curved down, his chest tightening at the thought of her. “That’s not why I-” He stopped himself, frowned harder. He wasn’t in love with Quinn; he was just in love with the idea of what they-could’ve-had. “…That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. Kurt rolled his eyes and looked out the passenger window, and they fell silent for a moment, The Smiths and the rain producing the only sound. “Anyway, you never answered my question.”
Kurt pursed his lips, looking like he had no intention of answering, really. Tapping his fingers on the dashboard to the tune of the song, he quietly confessed, “It sucks. Duh.” He crossed his arms and burrowed into his seat, as if he was trying to make himself smaller. Puck didn’t recommend that; the guy was already so damn tiny. “But…it’s not as hard as it used to be,” he added, looking at Puck pointedly as The Smiths sang for emphasis (So, for once in my life, let me get what I want…)
Puck supposed that was the closest they’d would ever get to Kurt actually saying that he was better than Finn. He hadn’t been fishing for that, exactly, but it was, admittedly, kind of nice to hear. It was certainly nicer than anything Quinn had ever said to him. He noticed that the rain was starting to let up slightly, but he ignored that as he leaned over and kissed Kurt’s yielding lips.
(Lord knows this would be the first time)
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Puck/Kurt (established), Kurt~>Finn, not really Puck~>Quinn
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Glee and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: A song by The Smiths leads to a heart-to-heart of sorts.
A/N: Slight spoilers for “Preggers”, takes place some time afterward
It was pouring down rain. That’d been fine an hour ago, when they’d first parked in the pretty much empty lot and taken the opportunity to engage in an extremely heated make out session (with a few good gropes thrown in, too, of course). But it wasn’t letting up yet and Puck was getting annoyed. He hated driving in heavy rain and Kurt was fun to kiss and all, but his flaming gayness was an acquired taste and he didn’t particularly want to make conversation with the guy. He would’ve preferred to fool around some more, but it seemed Kurt was ready to move on.
“Please tell me you have some decent music in here.” Kurt opened the glove compartment and began looking through the CDs stored inside, shooting Puck a brief, withering look as he came across a condom packet.
Puck crossed his arms and slumped down in his seat, watching the rain make trails down his window. “If you’re looking for Beyoncé , you’re gonna be disappointed.”
“Hmm.” Kurt’s soft sound of piqued curiosity made Puck glance at him. He was holding a CD case in his hand-Louder than Bombs. “You don’t strike me as a Smiths fan.”
Puck raised, lowered one shoulder. “Some great uncle gave it to me for my birthday. He thinks my nickname means that I’m into artistic shit.”
Kurt laughed, a bit incredulously. “Has he seen you? Ever?” Still chuckling to himself, he shook his head in amusement and opened the case, slipping the CD into the player.
Puck leaned his head against the window and sighed. “Sure, go ahead, play it, no need to ask…”
Kurt smirked a little, but ultimately ignored him as he started the CD and skipped to track 11. (Good times for a change…see, the luck I’ve had could make a good man turn bad…so please, please, please let me, let me, let me…let me get what I want this time…)
Vaguely intrigued by the song choice, Puck looked at the boy beside him only to wish, a second later, that he hadn’t. Eyes closed as he listened intently to the gentle music, Kurt was wearing that Unrequited Love face. Puck hated that face.
“So what’s it like?” He asked, fully aware that he was about to be a douche bag, and not really caring.
Kurt arched his eyebrows in acknowledgement, but kept his eyes closed. “What?”
“Being in love with someone who’s just not interested.”
Kurt did look at him, then, slowly, in a way that might’ve looked threatening on somebody else, but it was Kurt, so it didn’t look threatening at all. “Well, why don’t you tell me?” He replied, coolly. “I’ve seen the way you look at Quinn Fabray.”
The corner of Puck’s mouth curved down, his chest tightening at the thought of her. “That’s not why I-” He stopped himself, frowned harder. He wasn’t in love with Quinn; he was just in love with the idea of what they-could’ve-had. “…That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. Kurt rolled his eyes and looked out the passenger window, and they fell silent for a moment, The Smiths and the rain producing the only sound. “Anyway, you never answered my question.”
Kurt pursed his lips, looking like he had no intention of answering, really. Tapping his fingers on the dashboard to the tune of the song, he quietly confessed, “It sucks. Duh.” He crossed his arms and burrowed into his seat, as if he was trying to make himself smaller. Puck didn’t recommend that; the guy was already so damn tiny. “But…it’s not as hard as it used to be,” he added, looking at Puck pointedly as The Smiths sang for emphasis (So, for once in my life, let me get what I want…)
Puck supposed that was the closest they’d would ever get to Kurt actually saying that he was better than Finn. He hadn’t been fishing for that, exactly, but it was, admittedly, kind of nice to hear. It was certainly nicer than anything Quinn had ever said to him. He noticed that the rain was starting to let up slightly, but he ignored that as he leaned over and kissed Kurt’s yielding lips.
(Lord knows this would be the first time)