Fic: First Instinct (6 of ?)
Chapter 1
Previous Chapter
Chapter 6
Puck directed Kurt out to the gaming reserve his pack owned as of six years ago, Quinn sitting silently between them. The toddler fell asleep after a few minutes, while it took almost an hour to get there. “McKinley Gaming Reserve,” Kurt read the sign as they turned onto a private road, which was overgrown and bumpy, but still passable. At least until one of their tires blew.
Glad his father had taught him how to drive in any situation, Kurt stopped the truck carefully. Sighing, Kurt got out of the car to check the damage, ducking down before a crack rang out and something ripped into the sheet metal above Kurt’s head. Not really understanding what was going on, Kurt looked up to see a bullet hole in Lodes’ truck.
“Don’t shoot!” he cried, throwing his hands above his head. “There’s kids in the truck! Children! Don’t shoot!”
Two women, one tall and blonde, the other a few inches shorter and dark, stepped out of the woods on the other side of the road. The blonde one asked the brunette, “If that’s the truck, why is this boy driving it?”
“I don’t know, Britt,” the brunet replied, a powerful-looking rifle in her hands, which she leveled at Kurt before asking, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m returning-” Kurt started to say, but then there was movement on the other side of the truck.
Puck called out over the hood, “San, is that you?”
This San woman changed her target and sneered, “Who’s asking?”
Kurt watched as Puck came around the truck with his hands up, Quinn right behind him, the baby on her hip. A slow smile spread over the man’s face as he cried, “It’s me! Noah!”
“Noah Puckerman’s dead,” she insisted. “How’d you get his face?”
“No, it is me,” Puck insisted. “Santana, remember that thing we found by the river? The you-know-what that we vowed never, ever to talk about? How would I know about that if I wasn’t Puck?”
Although it didn’t make any sense, Santana’s mouth dropped open and she lowered her gun. Almost flustered, she went to give the gun to the Blonde girl beside her and then thought better of it, putting on the safety before finally handing it over. Then she was jumping on Puck, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. “Where have you been, Puckerman?” she cried, just about strangling him.
Puck laughed and hugged his cousin tightly, burying his nose in her shoulder and taking a deep whiff. Kurt figured it was a werewolf thing.
“San, San, let me go. I’ll tell you everything in a minute,” Puck promised. Putting her down and then pointing over her shoulder, Puck asked, “Who’s the blonde?”
Santana looked around Puck at Quinn and said, “I could ask the same. And seriously, you brought a human here on the last moon night?” She nodded at Kurt, who was still keeping his hands in plain sight at waist-level, just in case.
“This guy,” Puck grinned, putting his arm around Kurt’s shoulders. “This guy saved my furry ass. Literally. He got me out of where I was being held.”
Santana stuck out her bottom lip in an impressed sort of frown before asking, “And the she-wolf?”
“This is Quinn. She’s …” Puck faltered, catching Quinn’s eyes as he tried to explain. “She… We were mated for the last season.”
“You mated a chick?” Santana laughed, before telling Quinn, “No offense. I’m sure you’re an awesome mount. But seriously, Puck?”
Sighing, Puck admitted, “We didn’t have a choice, San. C’mon, let’s get up to the house. My ass is killing me.”
Santana raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking to Kurt like he might be the one responsible. Puck waved her off and explained, “Bullet. Got shot last night.”
“What about the baby?” the blonde one, Britt asked, as Puck turned and took him out of Quinn’s hands. “Why does he smell like diva?”
“He’s Rachel’s,” Puck explained. “Rachel’s and mine. She named him Noah.”
“Rachel’s dead,” Santana said, taking a closer look at Noah. “He does look like her, though. And you. What’s going on, Puck? Why were you in that truck? It belongs to the guy who took Rachel. We saw.”
Puck started walking up the road, limping a little and holding Noah close. Grimacing against what Kurt guessed was the pain of walking on a bullet wound, Puck said, “Jackass was breeding us like dogs. Made me stud whatever bitch he threw in the cage with me. If Kurt hadn’t killed him, he’d still be raising my son as his own.”
Santana cursed in a string of Spanish Kurt didn’t understand and followed Puck. Kurt looked at Quinn and figuring they hadn’t been asked to stay behind, he took her hand and gave her a gentle smile, keeping her with him as they walked up the road.
After a few steps, Quinn leaned over and asked, “How did he die? John? Was it quick or…?”
“It was quick,” Kurt assured her, reliving in the back of his head the moment four bullets plowed into his tormentor. “He barely felt a thing.”
“Thank you,” Quinn nodded, wiping a tear away. “I mean, I know what John did to me was kidnapping. I know it was rape, but… I think I loved him a little bit. He could be so sweet to me."
Looking up at Puck, a toddler on his hip and his cousin on the other hand, Kurt nodded and squeezed Quinn’s hand, admitting, “Believe it or not, I know what you mean.”
**88**
Kurt knew he should have just seen Puck home and left again, before his family really started to miss him. But seriously, how often do you see a compound owned by real live werewolves? He also felt a little responsible for Quinn. It had been his idea to steal Lodes' ID and go looking around his house. Besides, she was the only other outsider at the celebration that quickly gathered as news of Puck's return spread, so she seemed to want him there for at least a scrap of solidarity.
The first person they saw as they entered the front building, which looked like a cross between a hunting lodge and a hotel lobby, was a man with curly, sandy-brown hair who was sitting behind the counter, writing something. Without looking up, he said, "We're closed until Saturday. Come back then."
"Schue," Santana smirked, "look what I found..."
Schue looked up, glancing over all of them with a frown until his eyes lingered on Puck, going wide. As he tripped trying to get out from around his desk, the man asked, "Puckerman, is that you?"
Puck handed the kid back to Quinn as he nodded, before meeting the man halfway in a tight embrace. "My god," the man sighed as he pulled back, taking Puck's face in his hands. "Lauren told us you were dead. She saw you get shot before he let her go."
"He let her...?" Puck asked, looking a little lost or confused. Kurt wanted to put a hand on his shoulder or something, but he didn't want to intrude. "I thought he killed all of them... Why didn't you come?"
"She was pretty drugged and messed up when we found her," Will explained, hugging Puck again. "We looked and looked but we just couldn't find you. We thought you were dead, so we..."
Puck nodded, his head hanging as he admitted, "It was close. Fucker shot me four times. I survived."
Tearing up, Schue shook his head and pulled Puck's forehead down against his shoulder, kissing the younger man's hair. "It's okay now, Puck. You're home. You're safe."
"He says this dude freed him," Santana spoke up, lazily pointing at Kurt and drawing Schue's attention.
Taking a whiff of the air, Schue nodded and let go of Puck, holding out his hand to shake Kurt's. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "You have no idea how few of our pack members have made it home alive after being taken by that man. Is there anything we can do for you?"
"Pay for a therapist?" Kurt quipped off-hand. He knew he had been boxing away everything he felt about what had happened to him and that it would have to come out at some point, but he really didn't expect this Schue guy to smile and nod eagerly, like getting Kurt a therapist was nothing in return for what he'd done, in return for killing Lodes.
Schue opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a crash at the back of the room. A young man about Kurt's age stood there, the floor around his feet littered with what looked like firewood, dark eyes wide below a mess of black curls. Puck held up a hand in a soft wave and the new guy took a few hesitant steps closer. Just as Kurt saw another, bigger man come into the room behind black-curls holding a similar armful of firewood, Puck was stumbling back into Kurt at the force of the first guy’s tackle.
“You’re,” the guy cried, taking a big breath through his nose. “You’re you, Noah. You’re here!”
Kurt gave the two more space as Puck held his friend tight and whispered, “I’m here, Blaine. I’m back.” Looking away from the couple and trying not to notice the way seeing them together stung, Kurt noticed the big man again and realized that he was familiar. Very familiar.
“David?” Kurt asked, taking a step around Puck and Blaine toward his ex. “What are you doing here?”
Dave seemed more than a little surprised to see Kurt, but he held a finger up at Kurt before approaching Blaine and clearing his throat. Blaine let go of Puck and turned back, blushing as he ducked, “Sorry. Noah, this is David. Um...my boyfriend.”
"Hey, dude," David said gruffly, pulling Blaine back toward him with a hand around his wrist. "You're supposed to be dead."
"Dave!" Blaine hissed and his boyfriend's eyes widened suddenly.
"Shit. I didn't mean it like that," he assured, half to Puck and half to Blaine. "I meant, it's good you're here. The pack missed you."
"Damn straight we did," Santana beamed, throwing her arm around the back of Puck's neck even though he was significantly taller. "Just wait till your sister gets home from school!"
"And Ma?" Puck asked, his face falling when his pack members looked around at each other like they didn't know how to tell him the bad news.
Kurt couldn't handle it. He didn't want to handle it. He'd been through so much this week and he couldn't breathe watching his friend hear about his mother's death. It brought back too many bad memories of his own mother's passing when he was only eight. Needing the air, Kurt squeezed Quinn's hand once more before letting go, stepping outside into the afternoon sun.
Spring was just starting to arrive and the air held a bite of cold against the warmth of the sun as Kurt stood outside, trying to figure out how to get home.
The door opened and shut behind him before someone said, "Hey, Kurt."
Turning around, Kurt found David Karofsky standing just outside the door, giving him an odd, sheepish sort of look. "Can't say I expected you to be here," Kurt nodded quietly. "Are you...?"
"A wolf," Dave nodded. "Yeah. Explains a lot, huh?"
Kurt chuckled along with his ex and nodded. Then he asked, "Is there any way I could talk you into driving me to my car back in the city? I don't exactly..."
"Yeah," Dave nodded, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket and leading the way to a parking lot next to the welcome building. "I don't exactly want to be here either. Not every day your mate's first boyfriend comes back from the dead." He scoffed, almost like he didn't know what he was supposed to be feeling, which Kurt remembered was classic Dave Karofsky. Showing Kurt to a blue pickup, Dave unlocked it and got in with a sigh.
"You think Blaine's going to leave you?" Kurt asked gently as he buckled his seatbelt. He wasn't quite sure if he and Dave had the kind of relationship where they could talk like this, but they had been close most of Senior year of high school.
Dave sighed again and shrugged as he backed out of the parking space and trundles down the rough gravel road out to the highway. "I guess I wouldn't be so worried if they had broken up, you know, like we did."
Kurt hummed and nodded, clearly recalling being dumped the night before high school graduation. Or rather, just before sunset the night before graduation... Kurt realized now that, "We're just too different," wasn't just one of those things people say when they're breaking up with someone. In this case, it was true.
"Noah vanished," Dave continued, turning out onto the main road. "I only got the story in bits and pieces after I joined Blaine's pack, but I guess he just vanished into thin air one night. His mom went crazy looking for him and I think Blaine did, too. He didn't let go, even after he and I started dating, until that Lauren chick came back and said he was dead."
Kirt nodded and then replied softly, "David, a lot of evil things happened to Puck during the time he was gone. I doubt he's thinking about relationships with Blaine or anyone else. I know I'm not..."
Dave winced over at Kurt, but he had to keep his eyes on the road as well, so e kept looking back and forth as he asked, "What happened to you, Kurt? You're so ... subdued. You haven't even yelled at me for hitting that pothole back there on purpose."
Taking a shaky breath and wondering if maybe Dave was the only person from his old life that he could talk to about this, Kurt admitted, "I was kidnapped and raped. Just taken off the street and..." Kurt pushed away a tear. This was no time to lose it. He had to stay strong and together if he was going to lie convincingly to his father before too long. That plan got shot to shit, though, when David pulled over on the side of the road and wrapped his arms around Kurt.
Bawling now as Dave murmured, "Shh. It's okay. It's okay. Rumor has it you killed the guy."
Kurt nodded, rubbing at his hands like Lodes' blood was still there.
"So the guy who raped you is dead," Dave pointed out, pushing Kurt's bangs back out of his eyes. "It's never going to happen again."
"That's just the thing, though," Kurt said, taking a deep breath to calm his sobs. "Lodes never touched me. He made Puck do it."
Dave made a sound of sympathy and rubbed Kurt's back a little, which Kurt appreciated, but it wasn't really helping. "And..." Kurt confessed, "...and I can't hold it against him. I think I actually like the guy."
"But, he's a werewolf, Kurt," Dave pointed out as he let Kurt go, making him feel like even more fucked up for liking Puck even the tiniest bit. "Not to mention what he did to you, even if that guy made him do it. You guys would never work out."
"Just like you and I never worked out?" Kurt asked, wiping a few tears away. "I mean, I'm happy for you and everything, but when you dumped me? It stung, Dave."
"I had to," the guy sighed. "I belong with someone like me. We're different species, Kurt. It was stupid to even date in the first place. That's why you need to forget about Puck and move on with your life."
Feeling mean as they got back onto the road, Kurt asked, “Is that what you’re going to do when Blaine takes Puck back and forgets about you?”
Hitting the accelerator a little harder, Dave stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched as he growled, “That’s not gonna happen.” Judging from David’s reaction, Kurt wasn’t so sure about that.
Chapter 7
Previous Chapter
Chapter 6
Puck directed Kurt out to the gaming reserve his pack owned as of six years ago, Quinn sitting silently between them. The toddler fell asleep after a few minutes, while it took almost an hour to get there. “McKinley Gaming Reserve,” Kurt read the sign as they turned onto a private road, which was overgrown and bumpy, but still passable. At least until one of their tires blew.
Glad his father had taught him how to drive in any situation, Kurt stopped the truck carefully. Sighing, Kurt got out of the car to check the damage, ducking down before a crack rang out and something ripped into the sheet metal above Kurt’s head. Not really understanding what was going on, Kurt looked up to see a bullet hole in Lodes’ truck.
“Don’t shoot!” he cried, throwing his hands above his head. “There’s kids in the truck! Children! Don’t shoot!”
Two women, one tall and blonde, the other a few inches shorter and dark, stepped out of the woods on the other side of the road. The blonde one asked the brunette, “If that’s the truck, why is this boy driving it?”
“I don’t know, Britt,” the brunet replied, a powerful-looking rifle in her hands, which she leveled at Kurt before asking, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m returning-” Kurt started to say, but then there was movement on the other side of the truck.
Puck called out over the hood, “San, is that you?”
This San woman changed her target and sneered, “Who’s asking?”
Kurt watched as Puck came around the truck with his hands up, Quinn right behind him, the baby on her hip. A slow smile spread over the man’s face as he cried, “It’s me! Noah!”
“Noah Puckerman’s dead,” she insisted. “How’d you get his face?”
“No, it is me,” Puck insisted. “Santana, remember that thing we found by the river? The you-know-what that we vowed never, ever to talk about? How would I know about that if I wasn’t Puck?”
Although it didn’t make any sense, Santana’s mouth dropped open and she lowered her gun. Almost flustered, she went to give the gun to the Blonde girl beside her and then thought better of it, putting on the safety before finally handing it over. Then she was jumping on Puck, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. “Where have you been, Puckerman?” she cried, just about strangling him.
Puck laughed and hugged his cousin tightly, burying his nose in her shoulder and taking a deep whiff. Kurt figured it was a werewolf thing.
“San, San, let me go. I’ll tell you everything in a minute,” Puck promised. Putting her down and then pointing over her shoulder, Puck asked, “Who’s the blonde?”
Santana looked around Puck at Quinn and said, “I could ask the same. And seriously, you brought a human here on the last moon night?” She nodded at Kurt, who was still keeping his hands in plain sight at waist-level, just in case.
“This guy,” Puck grinned, putting his arm around Kurt’s shoulders. “This guy saved my furry ass. Literally. He got me out of where I was being held.”
Santana stuck out her bottom lip in an impressed sort of frown before asking, “And the she-wolf?”
“This is Quinn. She’s …” Puck faltered, catching Quinn’s eyes as he tried to explain. “She… We were mated for the last season.”
“You mated a chick?” Santana laughed, before telling Quinn, “No offense. I’m sure you’re an awesome mount. But seriously, Puck?”
Sighing, Puck admitted, “We didn’t have a choice, San. C’mon, let’s get up to the house. My ass is killing me.”
Santana raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking to Kurt like he might be the one responsible. Puck waved her off and explained, “Bullet. Got shot last night.”
“What about the baby?” the blonde one, Britt asked, as Puck turned and took him out of Quinn’s hands. “Why does he smell like diva?”
“He’s Rachel’s,” Puck explained. “Rachel’s and mine. She named him Noah.”
“Rachel’s dead,” Santana said, taking a closer look at Noah. “He does look like her, though. And you. What’s going on, Puck? Why were you in that truck? It belongs to the guy who took Rachel. We saw.”
Puck started walking up the road, limping a little and holding Noah close. Grimacing against what Kurt guessed was the pain of walking on a bullet wound, Puck said, “Jackass was breeding us like dogs. Made me stud whatever bitch he threw in the cage with me. If Kurt hadn’t killed him, he’d still be raising my son as his own.”
Santana cursed in a string of Spanish Kurt didn’t understand and followed Puck. Kurt looked at Quinn and figuring they hadn’t been asked to stay behind, he took her hand and gave her a gentle smile, keeping her with him as they walked up the road.
After a few steps, Quinn leaned over and asked, “How did he die? John? Was it quick or…?”
“It was quick,” Kurt assured her, reliving in the back of his head the moment four bullets plowed into his tormentor. “He barely felt a thing.”
“Thank you,” Quinn nodded, wiping a tear away. “I mean, I know what John did to me was kidnapping. I know it was rape, but… I think I loved him a little bit. He could be so sweet to me."
Looking up at Puck, a toddler on his hip and his cousin on the other hand, Kurt nodded and squeezed Quinn’s hand, admitting, “Believe it or not, I know what you mean.”
**88**
Kurt knew he should have just seen Puck home and left again, before his family really started to miss him. But seriously, how often do you see a compound owned by real live werewolves? He also felt a little responsible for Quinn. It had been his idea to steal Lodes' ID and go looking around his house. Besides, she was the only other outsider at the celebration that quickly gathered as news of Puck's return spread, so she seemed to want him there for at least a scrap of solidarity.
The first person they saw as they entered the front building, which looked like a cross between a hunting lodge and a hotel lobby, was a man with curly, sandy-brown hair who was sitting behind the counter, writing something. Without looking up, he said, "We're closed until Saturday. Come back then."
"Schue," Santana smirked, "look what I found..."
Schue looked up, glancing over all of them with a frown until his eyes lingered on Puck, going wide. As he tripped trying to get out from around his desk, the man asked, "Puckerman, is that you?"
Puck handed the kid back to Quinn as he nodded, before meeting the man halfway in a tight embrace. "My god," the man sighed as he pulled back, taking Puck's face in his hands. "Lauren told us you were dead. She saw you get shot before he let her go."
"He let her...?" Puck asked, looking a little lost or confused. Kurt wanted to put a hand on his shoulder or something, but he didn't want to intrude. "I thought he killed all of them... Why didn't you come?"
"She was pretty drugged and messed up when we found her," Will explained, hugging Puck again. "We looked and looked but we just couldn't find you. We thought you were dead, so we..."
Puck nodded, his head hanging as he admitted, "It was close. Fucker shot me four times. I survived."
Tearing up, Schue shook his head and pulled Puck's forehead down against his shoulder, kissing the younger man's hair. "It's okay now, Puck. You're home. You're safe."
"He says this dude freed him," Santana spoke up, lazily pointing at Kurt and drawing Schue's attention.
Taking a whiff of the air, Schue nodded and let go of Puck, holding out his hand to shake Kurt's. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "You have no idea how few of our pack members have made it home alive after being taken by that man. Is there anything we can do for you?"
"Pay for a therapist?" Kurt quipped off-hand. He knew he had been boxing away everything he felt about what had happened to him and that it would have to come out at some point, but he really didn't expect this Schue guy to smile and nod eagerly, like getting Kurt a therapist was nothing in return for what he'd done, in return for killing Lodes.
Schue opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a crash at the back of the room. A young man about Kurt's age stood there, the floor around his feet littered with what looked like firewood, dark eyes wide below a mess of black curls. Puck held up a hand in a soft wave and the new guy took a few hesitant steps closer. Just as Kurt saw another, bigger man come into the room behind black-curls holding a similar armful of firewood, Puck was stumbling back into Kurt at the force of the first guy’s tackle.
“You’re,” the guy cried, taking a big breath through his nose. “You’re you, Noah. You’re here!”
Kurt gave the two more space as Puck held his friend tight and whispered, “I’m here, Blaine. I’m back.” Looking away from the couple and trying not to notice the way seeing them together stung, Kurt noticed the big man again and realized that he was familiar. Very familiar.
“David?” Kurt asked, taking a step around Puck and Blaine toward his ex. “What are you doing here?”
Dave seemed more than a little surprised to see Kurt, but he held a finger up at Kurt before approaching Blaine and clearing his throat. Blaine let go of Puck and turned back, blushing as he ducked, “Sorry. Noah, this is David. Um...my boyfriend.”
"Hey, dude," David said gruffly, pulling Blaine back toward him with a hand around his wrist. "You're supposed to be dead."
"Dave!" Blaine hissed and his boyfriend's eyes widened suddenly.
"Shit. I didn't mean it like that," he assured, half to Puck and half to Blaine. "I meant, it's good you're here. The pack missed you."
"Damn straight we did," Santana beamed, throwing her arm around the back of Puck's neck even though he was significantly taller. "Just wait till your sister gets home from school!"
"And Ma?" Puck asked, his face falling when his pack members looked around at each other like they didn't know how to tell him the bad news.
Kurt couldn't handle it. He didn't want to handle it. He'd been through so much this week and he couldn't breathe watching his friend hear about his mother's death. It brought back too many bad memories of his own mother's passing when he was only eight. Needing the air, Kurt squeezed Quinn's hand once more before letting go, stepping outside into the afternoon sun.
Spring was just starting to arrive and the air held a bite of cold against the warmth of the sun as Kurt stood outside, trying to figure out how to get home.
The door opened and shut behind him before someone said, "Hey, Kurt."
Turning around, Kurt found David Karofsky standing just outside the door, giving him an odd, sheepish sort of look. "Can't say I expected you to be here," Kurt nodded quietly. "Are you...?"
"A wolf," Dave nodded. "Yeah. Explains a lot, huh?"
Kurt chuckled along with his ex and nodded. Then he asked, "Is there any way I could talk you into driving me to my car back in the city? I don't exactly..."
"Yeah," Dave nodded, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket and leading the way to a parking lot next to the welcome building. "I don't exactly want to be here either. Not every day your mate's first boyfriend comes back from the dead." He scoffed, almost like he didn't know what he was supposed to be feeling, which Kurt remembered was classic Dave Karofsky. Showing Kurt to a blue pickup, Dave unlocked it and got in with a sigh.
"You think Blaine's going to leave you?" Kurt asked gently as he buckled his seatbelt. He wasn't quite sure if he and Dave had the kind of relationship where they could talk like this, but they had been close most of Senior year of high school.
Dave sighed again and shrugged as he backed out of the parking space and trundles down the rough gravel road out to the highway. "I guess I wouldn't be so worried if they had broken up, you know, like we did."
Kurt hummed and nodded, clearly recalling being dumped the night before high school graduation. Or rather, just before sunset the night before graduation... Kurt realized now that, "We're just too different," wasn't just one of those things people say when they're breaking up with someone. In this case, it was true.
"Noah vanished," Dave continued, turning out onto the main road. "I only got the story in bits and pieces after I joined Blaine's pack, but I guess he just vanished into thin air one night. His mom went crazy looking for him and I think Blaine did, too. He didn't let go, even after he and I started dating, until that Lauren chick came back and said he was dead."
Kirt nodded and then replied softly, "David, a lot of evil things happened to Puck during the time he was gone. I doubt he's thinking about relationships with Blaine or anyone else. I know I'm not..."
Dave winced over at Kurt, but he had to keep his eyes on the road as well, so e kept looking back and forth as he asked, "What happened to you, Kurt? You're so ... subdued. You haven't even yelled at me for hitting that pothole back there on purpose."
Taking a shaky breath and wondering if maybe Dave was the only person from his old life that he could talk to about this, Kurt admitted, "I was kidnapped and raped. Just taken off the street and..." Kurt pushed away a tear. This was no time to lose it. He had to stay strong and together if he was going to lie convincingly to his father before too long. That plan got shot to shit, though, when David pulled over on the side of the road and wrapped his arms around Kurt.
Bawling now as Dave murmured, "Shh. It's okay. It's okay. Rumor has it you killed the guy."
Kurt nodded, rubbing at his hands like Lodes' blood was still there.
"So the guy who raped you is dead," Dave pointed out, pushing Kurt's bangs back out of his eyes. "It's never going to happen again."
"That's just the thing, though," Kurt said, taking a deep breath to calm his sobs. "Lodes never touched me. He made Puck do it."
Dave made a sound of sympathy and rubbed Kurt's back a little, which Kurt appreciated, but it wasn't really helping. "And..." Kurt confessed, "...and I can't hold it against him. I think I actually like the guy."
"But, he's a werewolf, Kurt," Dave pointed out as he let Kurt go, making him feel like even more fucked up for liking Puck even the tiniest bit. "Not to mention what he did to you, even if that guy made him do it. You guys would never work out."
"Just like you and I never worked out?" Kurt asked, wiping a few tears away. "I mean, I'm happy for you and everything, but when you dumped me? It stung, Dave."
"I had to," the guy sighed. "I belong with someone like me. We're different species, Kurt. It was stupid to even date in the first place. That's why you need to forget about Puck and move on with your life."
Feeling mean as they got back onto the road, Kurt asked, “Is that what you’re going to do when Blaine takes Puck back and forgets about you?”
Hitting the accelerator a little harder, Dave stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched as he growled, “That’s not gonna happen.” Judging from David’s reaction, Kurt wasn’t so sure about that.
Chapter 7