Round One - Prompt: Vice
Prompt: Vice
Entry One: Cheesecake
Spoilers - Set ambiguously beginning of S3, no real spoilers.
Warnings - Gratuitous fluffy moments and a couple of ‘damn’s’.
Who could’ve predicted that it would start because of Cheesecake...
Puck plonked himself down on the hard cafeteria bench with his fellow Glee clubbers and pulled out the container. He wasn’t the bagged lunch type usually, but his Nana’s famous cheesecake is something you don’t just turn your nose up at, especially because she rarely made it nowadays. Just as he lifted his fork for the first mouth-watering mouthful he was interrupted with a moan and a soft pale hand stilling his.
“Is that... cheesecake?” A breathy voice asked.
Looking up he saw what could only be described as wanton Kurt Hummel staring covetously at his lunch.
Torn between amusement and awkwardness Puck tried unsuccessfully to pull his hand away;
“What of it?”
He watched as Kurt subconsciously licked his lips before tearing his eyes away from the dessert to stare earnestly at him.
“What do you want for it?.”
“Seriously Hummel?” asked Puck incredulously. “You’ve got your own damn lunch - eat that.”
He tried again to raise his fork only to be stopped once again by a forceful Kurt.
“Geez Hummel - take a chill pill. It’s just cheesecake!” Mentally he crossed his fingers and sent a quick apology to J-Man, because this was not just a cheesecake.
“Look Puckerman - I have had an incredibly trying day and I really need that cheesecake. I will give you anything for it - You want cash? $100 for it, here and now.”
Damn - porcelain’s serious! Thought Puck as he watched Kurt pull out his wallet and produce several $20s. The no-nonsense tone and earnest stare left Puck completely bewildered. He glanced around the table to see the rest of the club watching in interest.
Finn leant over to ‘whisper’ in Puck’s ear; “He’s totally serious dude. Kurt loves cheesecake. He’ll do anything for it.”
“Really... Anything Hummel?” Puck asked with a smirk. “Okay, here’s the deal - You have to do whatever I say for the rest of the week... deal?”
“Yes! Just, can I have it now, please?” Kurt answered without considering the consequences.
“Well, I need to test your loyalty to the deal... proof you know. So I’ll give you a taste first;”
He watched as Kurt closed his eyes and moaned around the forkful of creamy goodness - it was a typical first reaction - it was just that good.
“Mmmmmore !” Kurt moaned with his eyes still closed.
“First - you have to stand up and declare that Rachel has fantastic fashion sense to the whole cafeteria.”
Puck honestly didn’t expect the Diva to do it. He knew it was good cheesecake, but damn , everyone knew what Kurt thought about Rachel’s clothes! How very wrong he was...
“Damn Hummel...” Puck handed over the container after Kurt’s very loud declaration, “Who knew you were such a slut for cheesecake?”
Kurt took a moment to savour the current mouthful before replying.
“What can I say - it’s my only vice.”
“Really...” Puck mused with a smirk - Oh, this week is gonna be fun!
Entry Two: Blinking at the End of the Road
Bad habits are often the most difficult to break. Falling back into the same old pattern, a lifeline as dark as obscurity itself; then there was the rope, thrown down to help a person out of his deepest mental trench, only to tangle and hang him as he tried to climb toward the light. Trying to keep his head above water, after willingly donning cement shoes, flailing as he sunk deeper into darkness.
…Damn metaphors.
“…Hello?” The bright voice was backed by the sound of running water. Refreshing, and cleansing; not like the stagnant kind that could drown somebody. It made him thirstier than he already was, but at the same time he really needed to take a leak. He didn’t feel like moving yet either way.
“Uh…h’loh?”
“Yes, how can I help you?”
“…Who‘re you?”
“…Idiot. You called me Puckerman. What do you want? If this isn’t important I’m hanging up because I was in the middle of something.”
“Whoa hey, calm down…dude. Jus’ callin’ to talk. Where’s Mr. Schue?”
“What?” The water in the background shut off, and there was a distant sound of rustling fabric that took away the voice for either a few seconds or years, he couldn’t tell. Coming back, the voice was clearer, so pretty and bright that he could hear the grass growing. “First of all, my name is not ‘dude’, Puckerman, for the last time. Secondly, for what reason in the world would Mr. Schue be here? And why did you call me looking for him anyways? ”
“’Cause…” A heavy pause in which Puck could hear more muffled shuffling from the other end, and his own deep breathing. Continuing quietly, as if trying not to break the relative stillness, “He said he’d be there - if I fell off the wagon again. He said I could call.”
“He said what now?” The pretty voice inquired, and for a minute there was more noise in the background. Seconds later, Puck could hear a door open, shut, and finally just the voice again, pretty like a princess. “What do you mean if you…fell…wait a second. Puck.”
“Mhm…yeah Princess?”
“Once again, not my name. But seriously though, Puck, are you drunk?”
“Nah. ‘S jus’ dark Princess. And I gotta pee.”
“…Where are you?”
“Um…I’m in the closet.”
A pause. “Oh…’kay? Hilariously ironic setting aside, why are you drunk in the closet?”
“’Cause…I didn’ want him to find me again. He found me earlier and I couldn’ run away. Then he took our money.”
“He…what!” Abruptly deeper in tone, sharp surprise, reproach, and demand. “’He’ who, Puck?”
“My dad.”
“Your…wait, your…Oh. Shit.” There was suddenly movement on the other end. Puck soon heard a zipper and keys jingling, then the pretty voice, soothing like water. “I’m on my way baby. Put the bottle down.”
“But i’s dark here, Princess. Mr. Shuester…?”
“I know, honey. But you called me, so I’m coming. Okay?” An engine started, and the pretty voice promised light.
“…Okay.”
Poll Prompt: Vice
Entry One: Cheesecake
Spoilers - Set ambiguously beginning of S3, no real spoilers.
Warnings - Gratuitous fluffy moments and a couple of ‘damn’s’.
Who could’ve predicted that it would start because of Cheesecake...
Puck plonked himself down on the hard cafeteria bench with his fellow Glee clubbers and pulled out the container. He wasn’t the bagged lunch type usually, but his Nana’s famous cheesecake is something you don’t just turn your nose up at, especially because she rarely made it nowadays. Just as he lifted his fork for the first mouth-watering mouthful he was interrupted with a moan and a soft pale hand stilling his.
“Is that... cheesecake?” A breathy voice asked.
Looking up he saw what could only be described as wanton Kurt Hummel staring covetously at his lunch.
Torn between amusement and awkwardness Puck tried unsuccessfully to pull his hand away;
“What of it?”
He watched as Kurt subconsciously licked his lips before tearing his eyes away from the dessert to stare earnestly at him.
“What do you want for it?.”
“Seriously Hummel?” asked Puck incredulously. “You’ve got your own damn lunch - eat that.”
He tried again to raise his fork only to be stopped once again by a forceful Kurt.
“Geez Hummel - take a chill pill. It’s just cheesecake!” Mentally he crossed his fingers and sent a quick apology to J-Man, because this was not just a cheesecake.
“Look Puckerman - I have had an incredibly trying day and I really need that cheesecake. I will give you anything for it - You want cash? $100 for it, here and now.”
Damn - porcelain’s serious! Thought Puck as he watched Kurt pull out his wallet and produce several $20s. The no-nonsense tone and earnest stare left Puck completely bewildered. He glanced around the table to see the rest of the club watching in interest.
Finn leant over to ‘whisper’ in Puck’s ear; “He’s totally serious dude. Kurt loves cheesecake. He’ll do anything for it.”
“Really... Anything Hummel?” Puck asked with a smirk. “Okay, here’s the deal - You have to do whatever I say for the rest of the week... deal?”
“Yes! Just, can I have it now, please?” Kurt answered without considering the consequences.
“Well, I need to test your loyalty to the deal... proof you know. So I’ll give you a taste first;”
He watched as Kurt closed his eyes and moaned around the forkful of creamy goodness - it was a typical first reaction - it was just that good.
“Mmmmmore !” Kurt moaned with his eyes still closed.
“First - you have to stand up and declare that Rachel has fantastic fashion sense to the whole cafeteria.”
Puck honestly didn’t expect the Diva to do it. He knew it was good cheesecake, but damn , everyone knew what Kurt thought about Rachel’s clothes! How very wrong he was...
“Damn Hummel...” Puck handed over the container after Kurt’s very loud declaration, “Who knew you were such a slut for cheesecake?”
Kurt took a moment to savour the current mouthful before replying.
“What can I say - it’s my only vice.”
“Really...” Puck mused with a smirk - Oh, this week is gonna be fun!
Entry Two: Blinking at the End of the Road
Bad habits are often the most difficult to break. Falling back into the same old pattern, a lifeline as dark as obscurity itself; then there was the rope, thrown down to help a person out of his deepest mental trench, only to tangle and hang him as he tried to climb toward the light. Trying to keep his head above water, after willingly donning cement shoes, flailing as he sunk deeper into darkness.
…Damn metaphors.
“…Hello?” The bright voice was backed by the sound of running water. Refreshing, and cleansing; not like the stagnant kind that could drown somebody. It made him thirstier than he already was, but at the same time he really needed to take a leak. He didn’t feel like moving yet either way.
“Uh…h’loh?”
“Yes, how can I help you?”
“…Who‘re you?”
“…Idiot. You called me Puckerman. What do you want? If this isn’t important I’m hanging up because I was in the middle of something.”
“Whoa hey, calm down…dude. Jus’ callin’ to talk. Where’s Mr. Schue?”
“What?” The water in the background shut off, and there was a distant sound of rustling fabric that took away the voice for either a few seconds or years, he couldn’t tell. Coming back, the voice was clearer, so pretty and bright that he could hear the grass growing. “First of all, my name is not ‘dude’, Puckerman, for the last time. Secondly, for what reason in the world would Mr. Schue be here? And why did you call me looking for him anyways? ”
“’Cause…” A heavy pause in which Puck could hear more muffled shuffling from the other end, and his own deep breathing. Continuing quietly, as if trying not to break the relative stillness, “He said he’d be there - if I fell off the wagon again. He said I could call.”
“He said what now?” The pretty voice inquired, and for a minute there was more noise in the background. Seconds later, Puck could hear a door open, shut, and finally just the voice again, pretty like a princess. “What do you mean if you…fell…wait a second. Puck.”
“Mhm…yeah Princess?”
“Once again, not my name. But seriously though, Puck, are you drunk?”
“Nah. ‘S jus’ dark Princess. And I gotta pee.”
“…Where are you?”
“Um…I’m in the closet.”
A pause. “Oh…’kay? Hilariously ironic setting aside, why are you drunk in the closet?”
“’Cause…I didn’ want him to find me again. He found me earlier and I couldn’ run away. Then he took our money.”
“He…what!” Abruptly deeper in tone, sharp surprise, reproach, and demand. “’He’ who, Puck?”
“My dad.”
“Your…wait, your…Oh. Shit.” There was suddenly movement on the other end. Puck soon heard a zipper and keys jingling, then the pretty voice, soothing like water. “I’m on my way baby. Put the bottle down.”
“But i’s dark here, Princess. Mr. Shuester…?”
“I know, honey. But you called me, so I’m coming. Okay?” An engine started, and the pretty voice promised light.
“…Okay.”
Poll Prompt: Vice