Once in Seventy Years - chapter 5
Rating: Mature
Word count: 2380 for this chapter
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine.
AO3 link, if you prefer
A/N: Do you warn for union suit porn? Anyway, I apologize for the time it took to get this chapter done, the story about why would be longer than the chapter and involve central Asian politics and my boss's family, so just enjoy that it's here now, okay?
Undressing Noah is Kurt's new favorite thing in the world. He likes nice clothes and naked Noah, so it shouldn't be a surprise that the combination appeals, but it's even better than it ought to be. Perhaps it's Noah's languid cooperation, or the matter-of-fact commentary he provides. Or maybe it's the moment when offhanded conversation breaks down into incoherent sounds, or the way his eyebrows give it away a minute or two before he reaches that point.
Coat first. Noah is handsome in it, Kurt appreciates the way it makes him sharp and square and manly, but he appreciates shirtsleeves and suspenders more. He unbuttons the cuffs of the shirt, pushing his hands up under them to hold Noah's wrists for a moment. Kurt slides his hands up his chest on smooth cool cotton, under the suspenders, pausing for a moment on the shoulders before he pushes them off. He probably ought to do it properly, but he enjoys that move too much.
Then the shirt, and he's down to underwear. Thin white knit clings and stretches across Noah's broad chest, nearly too tight, the buttons almost gaping.
He wears short underwear in the summer, claiming even that is too hot, and the way the edge of the sleeves cut across his solid upper arms makes Kurt want to do embarrassing things, like grab one with both hands and kiss it. He would, if he wasn't sure Noah would be insufferably smug for days.
Oh, that's right, he already is. No reason for Kurt to deny himself, then.
"You like those, babe?" Kurt doesn't answer, opting instead to lick along a vein up to the crook of Noah's elbow, flicking at the thin skin there with his tongue.
He looks up and arches an eyebrow at the sounds that gets him.
"So many buttons. Wherever shall I begin?"
"Ungh" isn't exactly a helpful answer, but very gratifying all the same.
He doesn't really need any help, anyway, because trousers should obviously be next. Perhaps just the one button on the union suit first, though, for better access to Noah's throat while he works on that.
The trousers fall to the ground, and he nudges Noah to step out of them, without really letting go of his neck. Noah doesn't move, though, so Kurt really has no choice but to kneel down and help him, staying close, running his hands down Noah's body as he goes.
Turns out summer underwear isn't a bad look for his lower half, either. The suit ends right below the knee, emphasizing the athletic calves that Kurt takes hold of and lifts out of the trouser legs. Once it's done, he moves slowly back up, tracing Noah's body as he goes. The front, he skims with his face, forehead, nose or lips according to the line of Noah's body.
His hands have the back side covered, calves, the soft little bulge at the back of the knees, the bigger and stronger one of ropy thigh muscles. Then the lovely, subtle concave curve where they end, a perfect place to pause for a moment before he moves on to the more obvious roundness of buttocks.
Conveniently, that leaves his face right around the lowest button in the row, nudging it with his nose and breathing through the fabric, inhaling the smell of Noah until the thin knit is wet. He wanted to take his time with this, but he finds himself suddenly impatient, and he barely has a moment for Noah's waist and the dip of his lower back, the broadening line of it towards the shoulders, before he has to start from the top again, unbuttoning as he goes this time.
For every button, there's a bigger triangle of chest, more soft tan skin to lick. He keeps unbuttoning down to the navel, when he's presented with the awful choice of dipping his tongue in that, following the trail of hair that starts below it, or moving back up to the now-exposed pair of nipples. Kurt wants all of them, right away, he's rushed and desperate and forget dignity, nipples win, only there's two of them, so he's left dithering like a confused dog between a pair of equally tempting bones.
He finally settles on the right one, kissing it chastely first, then open-mouthed, licking around it and over, before finally surrendering to the sensation and just sucking and sucking, hands splayed on Noah's back, no longer aware of any sequence or destination or passage of time, or anything except the taste and texture of Noah.
He could take the time to peel the union suit off him, but he doesn't want to, he doesn't care, the thing has buttons for a reason. He pushes Noah backwards and down on the chair behind him and rips the remaining three open, all in one fluid movement. That's enough, really, for full access to everything he wants right now. He drops to his knees between Noah's legs, pushing his thighs apart, and licks precisely once with the tip of his tongue before taking as much of him as he possibly can in his mouth.
He doesn't hear the sound of the door, or register that Noah's strangled noise is different from the others, before it's decidedly too late.
Mrs. Berry is by far the most composed person in the room, Noah second despite still scrambling to put his clothes back on, and Kurt a very distant third.
"I'm going to explain some things to you. You" -- she points at Noah - "are going to break this engagement. Or you allow my daughter to break it, and you will take any and all blame. In return, I will keep my mouth shut about what I just saw. Do you understand?"
Kurt isn't moving, he's barely breathing. Noah sort of wants to take him in his arms and hold him, make sure that he's okay, but he can't imagine that will make matters any better at this point. No wonder Kurt is scared. He has no idea about the leverage Noah holds here.
Of course, there's leverage on the other side, too, that nobody knows about except him.
"No." Noah's tilts his head stubbornly, and Kurt can not believe, in this situation, how he can be insane enough to turn her down. They've been caught, damn it, on the way to America, by his...until recently soon to be mother-in-law, and they're lucky if there are pieces of their lives left to be picked up. They really don't have much room to negotiate, but somehow he's not surprised that Noah Puckerman would try anyway.
And in a corner of his heart, beneath the panic? He can't deny that he's a little hurt that Noah won't break the engagement. It's not that he thinks he would choose him over Rachel, he's aware that's impossible, he understands that no matter how much they might...like each other, connect, Noah was probably always going to marry, because that's just how the world is. But that he's so attached to this particular woman, a decent match but with some very serious character flaws - yes, that stings.
"And what makes you think you are in a position to refuse." She makes it sound like it's not really a question, but Kurt thinks there's a hint of uncertainty there that really shouldn't be.
"Your husband is in the NAACP, isn't he?"
Kurt doesn't recognize the acronym, but Mrs. Berry goes a little pale and quiet. Maybe he wasn't as far off the mark as he thought with the mob thing.
"I don't understand why you would bring my husband into this."
"And I think you do."
She's a small woman, but her eyes are dark and hard. Kurt really wouldn't want to be caught between those two.
"You don't know half of what you think you do, young man. Whatever you assume about my husband - it does not mean I will sit by and let you do that to her."
"You let him do it to you, don't you?"
"For Rachel. Who is my child, and Hiram's daughter, who we both love more than anything."
Noah goes very quiet. Kurt can see his jaw clenching.
"And yes, I love him, despite everything, but it is miserable, and it's lonely, and don't imagine for a moment that I'll let Rachel enter that sort of arrangement. She deserves a husband who can love her the way a husband should, Noah, and I think you've made it clear that you are not that man."
She's angry, but also tired, and Kurt thinks he sees her softening around the edges.
"You don't know that."
"Oh, Noah", she sighs, world-weary more than anything. "I see how you look at him."
Kurt draws himself up and in, clears his throat quietly. "I'm not sure what's going on here, but I don't think I'm needed for this discussion." He walks out, careful not to rush or storm until he's out the door.
He watches Kurt go, and it's the worst sinking feeling, like everything he ever had just slipped out of his fingers. But at the same time, he's terribly aware of Mrs. Berry's eyes on him, of what she just said, of his own bereft gaze. He tears his eyes away and looks determinedly at her.
"Noah. I'm sorry if I'm overstepping, but I really do like you, so I will say this anyway."
He locks his eyes on her. Beth's mother. He wants to stare at the door, to run after Kurt, but he can't. He needs to convince her, charm her, do something, or he might never see his daughter again.
"People marry for reasons other than love all the time. It's not a rare tragedy, nothing that can't be overcome." She smiles wistfully. "But you shouldn't do to yourself lightly."
"I'm not - like that. Incapable. I know some men are, but I'm not." He gives her silhouette an appreciative glance, to illustrate his point. Perhaps it's a mistake. You work with the talent you've been given.
"Noah. I understand why you'd want to marry. Children, family, respectability." He could have snorted at the last one, but his breath got stuck on children. "But - not Rachel. Please."
He swallows.
"I love Rachel."
"Sweetheart, you think you do, but...let me tell you a story. You think you know it already, but if you really love Rachel, you need to hear it from me."
Noah wants to run. He wants to sprint out the door so fast he has to hold on to the doorframe and pivot to avoid slamming into the other side of the corridor, and crash through every damn room on this damn boat until he finds Kurt. But he resists the impulse, because he's know Kurt for, what, three days now? And this is his family. His future. He's been young and irresponsible for so long, and whims and flings and mischief have done all right by him so far, but at some point it has to stop. Looks like that point is now. He blinks hard. God damn it all to hell.
"Me and Hiram grew up on the same street. And we were all too poor, too Jewish and too pale, but him a little more than everybody else."
She smiles, tightly, sad but fond, and he sees suddenly that all her smiles are a bit like that.
"He was small and thin and a bit girlish, but he had a sort of solid goodness to him. Like he was more whole than any man on that street, even when he was ten. And I was a girl with an odd name in old outgrown dresses, but I was pretty and I could sing, and people always looked at me like I was a little bit dirty for it, you know? As if I'd already sold myself to get out of there. And I was just ten, too, so the two of us stuck together. His mother joked all the time about us getting married some day. Mine didn't think it was funny."
"Our first kiss was under the stairs when we were thirteen. We both wanted to see what it was like, that was all. So we kissed, and I thought, oh, this is what being in love means. And then I opened my eyes, and he was wiping his mouth with his shirtsleeve. Then he shrugged and said he thought it would be much better with Arthur Dubiel, so I should just ask him instead. Broke my little heart, but I was too proud to let him see that. So I went and kissed Arthur Dubiel, and came back and told Hiram all about it. And that was fine, too."
"By the time we were eighteen, I'd all but given up. But he must have done some thinking on his own, because one day he took me to the park and explained that he loved me, he didn't think he would ever meet a better girl than me, and would I please marry him? Maybe I should have known better, but I still loved him and he was so earnest, there was no way I could say no. So I smiled and told him yes, and our mothers put together a wedding, and then I discovered that nothing had really changed in five years."
"Rachel saved us, in a way. Loving her together...it was almost like loving each other. He was a fantastic father. I guess that's what I hope we can have again with Beth."
"But then he got involved with the rights of colored people, voter registration, things like that, and suddenly all he could talk about was Leroy Williams and his amazing ideas. I don't know if you can understand how much that hurt, Noah, to find out that you've never seen your husband in love before? And he was so irresistibly wonderful like that, too. Giddy and lovestruck and full of enthusiasm. As jealous as I was, it made me love him even more."
She stops, taking a few slow, deliberate breaths.
"And you, Noah, you look at Kurt that exact same way."
She waves him towards the door. "So go after him, why don't you, before you break any more hearts."
Word count: 2380 for this chapter
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine.
AO3 link, if you prefer
A/N: Do you warn for union suit porn? Anyway, I apologize for the time it took to get this chapter done, the story about why would be longer than the chapter and involve central Asian politics and my boss's family, so just enjoy that it's here now, okay?
Undressing Noah is Kurt's new favorite thing in the world. He likes nice clothes and naked Noah, so it shouldn't be a surprise that the combination appeals, but it's even better than it ought to be. Perhaps it's Noah's languid cooperation, or the matter-of-fact commentary he provides. Or maybe it's the moment when offhanded conversation breaks down into incoherent sounds, or the way his eyebrows give it away a minute or two before he reaches that point.
Coat first. Noah is handsome in it, Kurt appreciates the way it makes him sharp and square and manly, but he appreciates shirtsleeves and suspenders more. He unbuttons the cuffs of the shirt, pushing his hands up under them to hold Noah's wrists for a moment. Kurt slides his hands up his chest on smooth cool cotton, under the suspenders, pausing for a moment on the shoulders before he pushes them off. He probably ought to do it properly, but he enjoys that move too much.
Then the shirt, and he's down to underwear. Thin white knit clings and stretches across Noah's broad chest, nearly too tight, the buttons almost gaping.
He wears short underwear in the summer, claiming even that is too hot, and the way the edge of the sleeves cut across his solid upper arms makes Kurt want to do embarrassing things, like grab one with both hands and kiss it. He would, if he wasn't sure Noah would be insufferably smug for days.
Oh, that's right, he already is. No reason for Kurt to deny himself, then.
"You like those, babe?" Kurt doesn't answer, opting instead to lick along a vein up to the crook of Noah's elbow, flicking at the thin skin there with his tongue.
He looks up and arches an eyebrow at the sounds that gets him.
"So many buttons. Wherever shall I begin?"
"Ungh" isn't exactly a helpful answer, but very gratifying all the same.
He doesn't really need any help, anyway, because trousers should obviously be next. Perhaps just the one button on the union suit first, though, for better access to Noah's throat while he works on that.
The trousers fall to the ground, and he nudges Noah to step out of them, without really letting go of his neck. Noah doesn't move, though, so Kurt really has no choice but to kneel down and help him, staying close, running his hands down Noah's body as he goes.
Turns out summer underwear isn't a bad look for his lower half, either. The suit ends right below the knee, emphasizing the athletic calves that Kurt takes hold of and lifts out of the trouser legs. Once it's done, he moves slowly back up, tracing Noah's body as he goes. The front, he skims with his face, forehead, nose or lips according to the line of Noah's body.
His hands have the back side covered, calves, the soft little bulge at the back of the knees, the bigger and stronger one of ropy thigh muscles. Then the lovely, subtle concave curve where they end, a perfect place to pause for a moment before he moves on to the more obvious roundness of buttocks.
Conveniently, that leaves his face right around the lowest button in the row, nudging it with his nose and breathing through the fabric, inhaling the smell of Noah until the thin knit is wet. He wanted to take his time with this, but he finds himself suddenly impatient, and he barely has a moment for Noah's waist and the dip of his lower back, the broadening line of it towards the shoulders, before he has to start from the top again, unbuttoning as he goes this time.
For every button, there's a bigger triangle of chest, more soft tan skin to lick. He keeps unbuttoning down to the navel, when he's presented with the awful choice of dipping his tongue in that, following the trail of hair that starts below it, or moving back up to the now-exposed pair of nipples. Kurt wants all of them, right away, he's rushed and desperate and forget dignity, nipples win, only there's two of them, so he's left dithering like a confused dog between a pair of equally tempting bones.
He finally settles on the right one, kissing it chastely first, then open-mouthed, licking around it and over, before finally surrendering to the sensation and just sucking and sucking, hands splayed on Noah's back, no longer aware of any sequence or destination or passage of time, or anything except the taste and texture of Noah.
He could take the time to peel the union suit off him, but he doesn't want to, he doesn't care, the thing has buttons for a reason. He pushes Noah backwards and down on the chair behind him and rips the remaining three open, all in one fluid movement. That's enough, really, for full access to everything he wants right now. He drops to his knees between Noah's legs, pushing his thighs apart, and licks precisely once with the tip of his tongue before taking as much of him as he possibly can in his mouth.
He doesn't hear the sound of the door, or register that Noah's strangled noise is different from the others, before it's decidedly too late.
Mrs. Berry is by far the most composed person in the room, Noah second despite still scrambling to put his clothes back on, and Kurt a very distant third.
"I'm going to explain some things to you. You" -- she points at Noah - "are going to break this engagement. Or you allow my daughter to break it, and you will take any and all blame. In return, I will keep my mouth shut about what I just saw. Do you understand?"
Kurt isn't moving, he's barely breathing. Noah sort of wants to take him in his arms and hold him, make sure that he's okay, but he can't imagine that will make matters any better at this point. No wonder Kurt is scared. He has no idea about the leverage Noah holds here.
Of course, there's leverage on the other side, too, that nobody knows about except him.
"No." Noah's tilts his head stubbornly, and Kurt can not believe, in this situation, how he can be insane enough to turn her down. They've been caught, damn it, on the way to America, by his...until recently soon to be mother-in-law, and they're lucky if there are pieces of their lives left to be picked up. They really don't have much room to negotiate, but somehow he's not surprised that Noah Puckerman would try anyway.
And in a corner of his heart, beneath the panic? He can't deny that he's a little hurt that Noah won't break the engagement. It's not that he thinks he would choose him over Rachel, he's aware that's impossible, he understands that no matter how much they might...like each other, connect, Noah was probably always going to marry, because that's just how the world is. But that he's so attached to this particular woman, a decent match but with some very serious character flaws - yes, that stings.
"And what makes you think you are in a position to refuse." She makes it sound like it's not really a question, but Kurt thinks there's a hint of uncertainty there that really shouldn't be.
"Your husband is in the NAACP, isn't he?"
Kurt doesn't recognize the acronym, but Mrs. Berry goes a little pale and quiet. Maybe he wasn't as far off the mark as he thought with the mob thing.
"I don't understand why you would bring my husband into this."
"And I think you do."
She's a small woman, but her eyes are dark and hard. Kurt really wouldn't want to be caught between those two.
"You don't know half of what you think you do, young man. Whatever you assume about my husband - it does not mean I will sit by and let you do that to her."
"You let him do it to you, don't you?"
"For Rachel. Who is my child, and Hiram's daughter, who we both love more than anything."
Noah goes very quiet. Kurt can see his jaw clenching.
"And yes, I love him, despite everything, but it is miserable, and it's lonely, and don't imagine for a moment that I'll let Rachel enter that sort of arrangement. She deserves a husband who can love her the way a husband should, Noah, and I think you've made it clear that you are not that man."
She's angry, but also tired, and Kurt thinks he sees her softening around the edges.
"You don't know that."
"Oh, Noah", she sighs, world-weary more than anything. "I see how you look at him."
Kurt draws himself up and in, clears his throat quietly. "I'm not sure what's going on here, but I don't think I'm needed for this discussion." He walks out, careful not to rush or storm until he's out the door.
He watches Kurt go, and it's the worst sinking feeling, like everything he ever had just slipped out of his fingers. But at the same time, he's terribly aware of Mrs. Berry's eyes on him, of what she just said, of his own bereft gaze. He tears his eyes away and looks determinedly at her.
"Noah. I'm sorry if I'm overstepping, but I really do like you, so I will say this anyway."
He locks his eyes on her. Beth's mother. He wants to stare at the door, to run after Kurt, but he can't. He needs to convince her, charm her, do something, or he might never see his daughter again.
"People marry for reasons other than love all the time. It's not a rare tragedy, nothing that can't be overcome." She smiles wistfully. "But you shouldn't do to yourself lightly."
"I'm not - like that. Incapable. I know some men are, but I'm not." He gives her silhouette an appreciative glance, to illustrate his point. Perhaps it's a mistake. You work with the talent you've been given.
"Noah. I understand why you'd want to marry. Children, family, respectability." He could have snorted at the last one, but his breath got stuck on children. "But - not Rachel. Please."
He swallows.
"I love Rachel."
"Sweetheart, you think you do, but...let me tell you a story. You think you know it already, but if you really love Rachel, you need to hear it from me."
Noah wants to run. He wants to sprint out the door so fast he has to hold on to the doorframe and pivot to avoid slamming into the other side of the corridor, and crash through every damn room on this damn boat until he finds Kurt. But he resists the impulse, because he's know Kurt for, what, three days now? And this is his family. His future. He's been young and irresponsible for so long, and whims and flings and mischief have done all right by him so far, but at some point it has to stop. Looks like that point is now. He blinks hard. God damn it all to hell.
"Me and Hiram grew up on the same street. And we were all too poor, too Jewish and too pale, but him a little more than everybody else."
She smiles, tightly, sad but fond, and he sees suddenly that all her smiles are a bit like that.
"He was small and thin and a bit girlish, but he had a sort of solid goodness to him. Like he was more whole than any man on that street, even when he was ten. And I was a girl with an odd name in old outgrown dresses, but I was pretty and I could sing, and people always looked at me like I was a little bit dirty for it, you know? As if I'd already sold myself to get out of there. And I was just ten, too, so the two of us stuck together. His mother joked all the time about us getting married some day. Mine didn't think it was funny."
"Our first kiss was under the stairs when we were thirteen. We both wanted to see what it was like, that was all. So we kissed, and I thought, oh, this is what being in love means. And then I opened my eyes, and he was wiping his mouth with his shirtsleeve. Then he shrugged and said he thought it would be much better with Arthur Dubiel, so I should just ask him instead. Broke my little heart, but I was too proud to let him see that. So I went and kissed Arthur Dubiel, and came back and told Hiram all about it. And that was fine, too."
"By the time we were eighteen, I'd all but given up. But he must have done some thinking on his own, because one day he took me to the park and explained that he loved me, he didn't think he would ever meet a better girl than me, and would I please marry him? Maybe I should have known better, but I still loved him and he was so earnest, there was no way I could say no. So I smiled and told him yes, and our mothers put together a wedding, and then I discovered that nothing had really changed in five years."
"Rachel saved us, in a way. Loving her together...it was almost like loving each other. He was a fantastic father. I guess that's what I hope we can have again with Beth."
"But then he got involved with the rights of colored people, voter registration, things like that, and suddenly all he could talk about was Leroy Williams and his amazing ideas. I don't know if you can understand how much that hurt, Noah, to find out that you've never seen your husband in love before? And he was so irresistibly wonderful like that, too. Giddy and lovestruck and full of enthusiasm. As jealous as I was, it made me love him even more."
She stops, taking a few slow, deliberate breaths.
"And you, Noah, you look at Kurt that exact same way."
She waves him towards the door. "So go after him, why don't you, before you break any more hearts."