Let it Snow for hysterichotel! (Part 1)
Title: Let It Snow (Part 1)
Recipient: hysterichotel
Rating: PG-13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt, Finn/Mercedes, a little bit of Rachel, Various OCs
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Warning: None
Spoilers: Up to and including 3x09
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue :D
Author Notes: Thank you so much to xlessxthanx3x, wearemagnetised, and mavilous for your help and advice with this story. Banner made by the incomparable wearemagnetised!
Summary: Puck runs into Kurt Hummel six years after graduation. Well, maybe ‘runs into’ isn’t totally the right way of describing it.
Word Count: 16,700
Part Two
Part Three
December 18th
The club was dark, lit only by the flashing lights of the dance floor, and the very walls seemed to pulse with the beat of the music. Well-dressed men littered the dance floor, grinding up on each other, and Noah Puckerman took a moment to survey the room, making sure nothing required his immediate presence.
The music was pounding. It wasn’t music anymore though, not really. It was a force, moving bodies and bringing unlikely people together. Puck didn’t work as a bouncer often (filled in for his friend, Tony, when he needed him to), but the nights he did? The events and people he had witnessed would shock the people from his hometown to the core.
Well, to be fair, it was a gay club. The closest thing Lima had to Posh was Scandals. Last time Puck checked, Scandals didn’t have a Zagat review, or, you know, a crowd of over ten people.
Posh was packed. Puck didn’t really understand how it could be on a Tuesday night, but there was absolutely no room for Puck to move in without sliding against three or four different guys. Which Puck didn’t exactly have a problem with. Especially if they were hot. Especially if they were locking eyes with him and doing very interesting things to the neck of that beer bottle with their mouth.
“PUCK!” Puck broke the gaze with the sexy, sexy man to look over to another sexy, sexy man. Jeff was the 6’5” lanky bartender with a cute boyish grin and a body to die for. He was a swimmer in college and had the chest and shoulders to show for it. Puck recalled licking tequila off his abs fondly. Jeff was a great hook up.
Jeff’s smile was nowhere in sight however, his boyish features clouded over in worry and annoyance.
“WHAT’S UP?” It was ridiculous how loudly they had to shout just so they could hear each other.
“WE HAVE A SITUATION AT THE BAR AND JAKE IS TOO BUSY GETTING A BLOWJOB TO HELP.” Puck had to laugh. Jake was one of the other bouncers tonight and he had some problems focusing on the job. Well, the bouncing job. Not the blowjob.
“GOT IT.” Puck squeezed his way past the muscular redhead that was now blatantly attempting to deepthroat the glass bottle. Damn it. Just as he was going to get his gay ginger on. This situation better be good.
Puck walked the perimeter of the dance floor in an attempt to get to the bar faster. When he made his way past the mass of gyrating bodies, he saw what Jeff was talking about.
At the bar was a smartly dressed young man, trying to nurse his martini. Trying because it’s hard drinking out of a glass like that with a man draped over your side.
“Listen, you’re really cute. Seriously. But I’m married. And my husband is on his way over here and he’s really possessive.”
“I’m up for threesomes. Seriously, I bet I could fit both your-“
Puck’s laughter was prematurely cut off by the appearance of a very large, very angry looking man.
“HEY!” The man wasted no time grabbing the wrist of the stranger hitting on his husband. “He’s taken, twink! So back off!”
The severely intoxicated man didn’t miss a beat. He smiled slyly and turned his attention to the man grabbing his wrist. He placed his free hand on the guy’s chest and said, “Back off or jerk off? Because like I told Mikey here, I’m up for threesomes.”
That did not appease Mikey’s husband, whose face took on an even darker hue. Puck decided to intervene before things got too hairy.
“Alright, sir, if you would let go of the gentleman’s arm, I could escort him to the back and make sure he gets home safely without disturbing anyone.” If college taught Puck anything, it was how to bullshit his way out of anything. Not that he didn’t know from high school, but college polished his skills up a bit.
“But we were having so much fun!”
Puck shared an amused look with Mikey, who held his husband back, “I’m sure you were, sweetheart, but you need to come with me.”
“Okay! You’re hot!” And with that, he threw his arms around Puck’s neck and buried his face into his ear.
Puck groaned, knowing he walked into that one. Slowly, but steadily, he led the intoxicated man behind the bar and down the hallway to their supply room. The trek was a long and annoying one, but at least Puck could hear his own thoughts. Florescent lighting and dull remnants of the bass line replaced the darkness and music.
Once he got to the supply room itself, he placed the almost-limp form in his arms on a crate of recently shipped flavored vodka. Once seated, the man looked up at Puck with hazy blue eyes.
Hazy blue eyes that Puck knew. Hazy blue eyes that Puck spent a lot of time looking into at his high school graduation party. Hazy blue eyes that widened in recognition.
“PUCK?!”
So he wasn’t that far gone. Good. Not that having to deal with a wasted Kurt Hummel was ever good, but silver lining and all that.
“Hummel, what the hell are you doing here?”
Kurt’s eyes weren’t entirely focused, “Me? What about you? This is a gaaaaaaay club, Puck. You’re not gaaaaaaay.” Puck was struggling to hold back laughter.
He was about to respond when a voice interrupted him, “Puck? Jeff told me that you were taking care of a drunk baby gay? I have no idea what that means, but I have his bag!”
Puck turned to the beautiful Asian girl that was making her way down the hallway, “Thanks, Mai. He’s going to appreciate it, especially if its Alexander McKing or whatever.”
Mai rolled her eyes, “McQueen, Puck, it’s MacQueen.” She handed the bag over to Puck, stealing a glance at the seated Kurt. She squealed, “Oh my, God! He’s so cute!”
Kurt winced and Puck laughed, “Calm yourself, Mai. You don’t want Mav to think you’re leaving her for a dude.”
“What’s this about Mai leaving me for a dude?” Mai and Puck jumped at the entrance of the aforementioned girlfriend.
The tall, attractive woman looked at Kurt, “Well, if you’re going to leave me for a guy, might as well be the prettiest one I’ve ever seen.”
“Mav, you’re supposed to be keeping track of the DJ! Now he’s going to sneak off to snort coke in the back alleyway!”
“I had to see what you and Puck were up to! You always have these adventures without me.” She came up behind Mai and wrapped her hands around her tiny girlfriend’s hips, placing her chin on her shoulders. “’Sides, I switched out his bag of coke for a bag of Pixie Stix. The only thing he’s going to be high on is sugar.”
Mai and Puck cracked up. “And that’s why you’re my favorite lez. And as hot as it is to watch the two of you together, could you leave me and Hu-Kurt alone for a bit?”
They nodded and waved bye to Kurt before walking back to the club, hand in hand. Puck took a moment to appreciate their asses before turning to the now sleepy looking Kurt.
“Where do you live? And did you come here with anyone?”
It took Kurt a second to respond, “Village. West. And no. Gosh, I’m dizzy.”
“Woah, there!” Puck lunged forward to catch Kurt’s falling torso. He sat him up again, hands gripping Kurt’s upper arms in an effort to keep him that way.
Kurt’s head lolled, “I want to go to bed.”
“K, we can do that as soon as you give me your address.”
“228 West 11th Street.”
Puck nearly dropped him, “You’re serious?”
Kurt glared from under his half-lidded gaze, “Why would I joke about that?”
They lived ten blocks from each other? Ten blocks. Running into him at the club was a crazy enough coincidence, but this? What was the universe trying to tell him?
“Tell you what. I’ll take a cab with you and make sure you get to that bed of yours safely, okay?”
Kurt let his face fall against Puck’s chest, “Okay.”
Puck managed to guide Kurt out of the club and unto the dark, damp streets of Midtown. He begged off the rest of his shift on to Jake and the other guys, who didn’t mind taking over. Mai helped him put on his coat by holding Kurt up with her 5’2” frame. Well, she tried. Mav prevented Kurt from completely toppling over and for that, Puck would be eternally grateful because if Kurt broke his nose or something, Puck would never hear the end of it.
He hailed a cab with the arm that wasn’t holding Kurt up by the waist and gently shoved the intoxicated man into the back seat, where he joined him. Puck gave the driver the address and soon they were headed down West Side Highway with Kurt sprawled in Puck’s lap and Puck, too tired and still reeling with the shock of seeing Kurt Hummel for the first time in six years, just sitting there watching Kurt’s pale face, relaxed in sleep.
They made it to Kurt’s building in fifteen minutes, given there were barely any cars on the road at one in the morning. Puck paid the driver and pulled Kurt out of the cab.
“Come on, Hummel. You need to show me which apartment is yours.” Puck fished through Kurt’s bag until he found a key ring. Trying each of the keys, he finally found the right one for the building. He took a second to read the names next to the doorbells before his eyes landed on a “Hummel” tag next to Apartment 4B. Great, four flights of stairs and not an elevator in sight.
“Work with me, Kurt. We need to go up the stairs.” The sleepy Kurt nodded and, with Puck supporting his unsteady frame, he made it up the stairs with minimal incidents.
The pair finally made it in front of 4B. Puck once again played a game of Which Key? As he was trying the second key, the door flew open and Puck found himself face to face with Finn Hudson.
“PUCK?”
Puck winced, did he have to be so loud? “Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here, Hudson?”
Finn’s eyes could not be any wider, “I live here. What are you doing here?”
“He took me home, Finn!” Kurt stumbled past the threshold of the apartment and took a header into Finn’s chest. Finn wrapped his arms around Kurt, hugging him to his body.
“What the hell is going on?”
Puck shook his head, weary from the night’s events, “Dude, he’ll explain when he’s sober. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, k?”
He turned to leave. Finn called out after him, “Wait, Puck!” He didn’t have a chance to finish, however, as Puck heard Kurt whine, “Finn, I think I’m going to throw up.”
Puck paused to listen to the sound of frantic scrambling and the door of the apartment shutting with a slam. He sighed and continued his journey home.
Fifteen minutes later, Puck was lying on his bed, shirtless and worn out. He drifted into sleep wondering if the last hour had actually happened.
December 19th
“Noah! Noah!” Puck groaned, forcing his eyes open. He felt dead; there was no way he got enough sleep last night. Every muscle in his body protested as he moved to sit up and look at his cousin.
“What, Seth?” Seth Puckerman grinned from where he stood at the foot of the bed.
“Rough night last night?” Puck understood why it is that so many people wanted to rearrange his face when he smirked. It was just annoying.
Wait. Last night. Last night. Kurt. Finn. Gay club. Ten fucking blocks.
Puck groaned and threw himself back into the pillows, “Understatement.”
“Yeah, okay. I can see that. But you have to get up.”
Puck looked to his bedside clock with bleary eyes, “Seth, it’s noon. I don’t have to be anywhere. Why am I awake?”
“There’s a really pretty dude sitting in our living room, waiting for you.”
“WHAT?!” Puck jumped out of bed with all the energy of someone who had gotten a lot more sleep than him. He ran out of the room and into the living room.
Kurt Hummel, in all his coiffed glory, sat on the couch, legs crossed and hands folded in his lap.
Puck wasn’t wearing a shirt. Or pants. He knew this because Kurt told him so.
“You’re not wearing a shirt. Or pants,” Kurt said in a tone that took Puck right back to high school. Nothing had changed. His face still flooded with color at the sight of a semi-naked man (messing with him in the locker room senior year was so much fun).
Puck couldn’t help it. He laughed. Laughed and laughed and just when he thought he was going to be okay, he made the mistake of looking at Kurt. His incredulous face only sent him into hysterics again.
“What’s so funny?” Kurt asked bewildered, after Puck managed to calm down and plopped down on the love seat opposite the couch.
“Nothing, Hummel. I swear.” Puck couldn’t get rid of the grin on his face, however, “What’s up?”
Kurt’s jaw dropped open, “What’s up? What’s up? We run into each other in the middle of Manhattan and then it turns out we live ten blocks apart. We haven’t seen each other in six years!”
Oh, good. It wasn’t just him, then. “It wasn’t so much running into one another as it was me hauling your drunk ass out of a very sticky situation.”
Only Kurt Hummel would be able to hold his head up high and turn up his nose in a prissy manner in response to that, but Puck was delighted. Between the red cheeks and crossed arms, Kurt looked exactly like he did right before being tossed into the dumpster.
This was fucking awesome.
“Hummel, dude, whatever you wanted to bitch me out about today, I don’t care. I’m really happy to see you.” He didn’t know why and it could definitely be a result of sleep deprivation, but seeing Kurt (sober!) after six years was amazing.
Kurt’s arms loosened in what appeared to be shock and he turned to face Puck head on, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.
“You think I’m here to bitch you out?” Puck crossed his arms and shrugged.
“Yeah, look, I’m sorry if I ruined your clothes or something when I took you home, but I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I can try and replace whatever I ruined, but knowing your shit, I might not have enough-“
“Noah, stop!” Puck shut his mouth immediately. If it wasn’t the use of his given name that surprised him, it was the volume he yelled it at.
“How could you think that awfully of me? I know it’s been a while, but we were friends at some point.” Kurt uncrossed his legs and leaned forward so that he was at the edge of his seat. He locked gazes with Puck and said, voice as serious as Puck has ever heard it, “I came here to thank you. Thank you for being an amazing person and going beyond the requirements of your job to make sure I got home safely.”
Puck smiled, “Dude, it was no-“
“No, it was a big deal. Noah, I was so out of it last night,” his face colored “I’m pretty sure I would have gotten hurt or,” his face took on a darker hue “um, hurt someone else if you hadn’t stepped in.”
Puck grinned, “Yeah, safe to say, you were more of a threat to others than vice versa.”
Kurt groaned and buried his face in his hands, “Why did you have to witness that of all things? I swear, I’ve never been that drunk in my life.” Kurt paused, face screwing up in regret, “Or that slutty.” Puck laughed.
“Hey, I’ve been there a couple of times.”
Kurt shook his head, “That’s the insane part. I don’t drink. I rarely have time to go out and when I do, I don’t really drink. Last night was just a result of someone saying something at work-“ He cut himself abruptly, face flooding with color again.
Puck was curious, but didn’t want to pry. Much. “Seriously, dude. No biggie. Also, if you being plastered meant that I got to see you again, so be it.”
Kurt looked up at him, a smile slowly making its way across his face, “That might have been the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“What, ‘Hummel, get into the dumpster’ wasn’t nice?” They both laughed.
“I’m glad I can look back and laugh, Puckerman. Do you have any idea how many outfits you ruined?”
Puck winced, ashamed, “Sorry, man. I was a dick.”
“You more than made up for it last night, Noah. Really.” There go the chills again. Maybe he should put on a shirt or something.
Kurt continued, “I actually came here to thank you for that. Do you think you have time to have lunch with me today?”
Puck blinked, “Dude, you don’t have to-“
“But I want to!” Kurt jumped off the couch and dropped on to the love seat next to Puck. He didn’t seem to mind being in such proximity to Puck’s nearly naked form. Puck certainly didn’t mind, although the goosebumps that popped up, well, everywhere were probably going to get awkward.
“Noah, please. We can catch up and eat at this really adorable café with this delicious tomato soup and watch the people in the park go about their pre-Christmas season and, you know, have fun.” He said the last bit with all the grace of a five year old presenting the same argument and Puck couldn’t help but say yes.
“Okay, we can do that.” Kurt squealed, face lighting up with excitement and he threw his arms around Puck’s neck, initiating an exuberant hug. Puck returned it, while starting a countdown in his head.
Three, two, one…
Kurt jumped back as quickly and suddenly as he jumped on Puck. For the umpteenth time in the last fifteen minutes, his face glowed red.
“Um, you should probably put on clothes, then.”
Puck smirked, “You don’t say?”
“I do.” Kurt smiled through his embarrassment.
“Give me ten minutes to shower and get dressed and then we can go, k?”
Kurt nodded, “Sure. I’m sure I can entertain myself with your copy of-“ he picked up a magazine off of the coffee table in front of him. “-Maxim.” His face screwed up in disgust as he read off the title and threw the offending magazine back on the table as if it burned him.
Puck threw back his head and laughed, long and loud. “I’ve missed you, Hummel.”
The smile Kurt bestowed upon him nearly stopped his heart.
Thirteen minutes later, they were on the sidewalk in front of Puck’s apartment. They were held up a bit by Puck’s cousin incessantly asking questions (“No, Seth, we haven’t fucked. We went to high school together.” “My point.”), but managed to get away.
“So, what train should we take? Where is this place, anyway?”
“Central Park. And we’re taking a cab. I love the train, but the week before Christmas? Filled with insane shoppers and teenagers high off the excitement of winter break. No, thank you.”
Kurt hailed a cab effortlessly and opened the door for Puck. Bowing gallantly, he said, “After you.”
Puck grinned, “You do that well. Did you get a job as a doorman?”
Kurt squawked and pushed him in the cab with surprising strength. Puck chuckled. As Kurt made his way into the seat next to him, he remarked, “You also did that well. Maybe you’re a member of the NYPD? New York’s finest?”
“New York’s finest, yes. Cop, no. The uniform was too gaudy.” He mock shuddered and turned to give the address to the waiting driver.
The ride was executed in silence, with the two of them taking in the sights of the city at Christmastime. It truly was the Eighth Wonder of the World.
As they got out of the cab, Kurt paused. They were on the corner of Central Park West and 68th. Puck turned to the quiet man, “You okay?”
Kurt’s face was one of wonder, “It’s funny. I’ve lived in the city for six years now and still can’t believe it. It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”
Puck looked at the tall buildings across the street and then at the entrance of the park. Old and new. Nature and mankind. Green and gray.
“Yeah, Hummel. It really is.”
Kurt took in a deep breath and released it, “Alright, let’s go! The restaurant is kind of in the middle, so we have a little bit of a walk.”
Together, they walked into the park. Side by side, they trekked in silence, listening to the noise of the people beside them. There was a thin layer of white snow covering the park, remnants of last night’s snowfall. It crunched beneath their feet and reminded Puck of Ohioan winters. It was poetic that he was sharing the walk with a fellow Ohioan. Not that he’d ever call Kurt that to his face. He’d probably throw a fit.
The restaurant wasn’t crowded and for that Puck was grateful. As much as Puck was looking forward to the food (which was as excellent as Kurt described), he was really looking forward to finding out what Kurt was up to for the last six years. And how the hell he had ended up at the club last night.
As they dug into their soups and sandwiches, Puck asked, “So, the Village, huh?”
Kurt grinned from over his butternut squash bisque, “Where else is a boy like me going to live in a city like this? But, seriously, I made friends with an elderly lady during college. Lana Latruna. Amazing woman. She did costumes for Broadway shows for over 40 years. When she passed away, she left me the lease to her apartment. Her partner had passed away a while ago and she didn’t have any other living family members.” Kurt shrugged, “It’s the only way we could afford the place. Her lease was rent-controlled.”
Puck nodded in understanding, “Yeah, and when did Finn come into the picture. He went to OSU, right?”
“Yes, he went for teaching and music. He visited me a lot during college, after him and Rachel broke up. Finn fell in love with the city and asked if he could live with me while he was getting his Master’s in Teaching and New York Teaching License. I jumped on the chance to have a roommate I actually liked, so I said yes. He’s almost done with the Master’s and working as a substitute for now.”
Puck grinned, “So, he’s the new Schue?”
Kurt laughed, “Exactly! I wanted to make fun of it so much, but even I teared up when I saw Schue’s face after Finn announced his goals.”
“That man is and always will be a softie.”
“Finn or Schue?” And the two laughed again.
They both took a couple of more bites of their food, “What about you? How’d you end up in the Village? Or New York for that matter?”
Puck shrugged, “I went to OSU with Finn for the first year, but transferred to a school on the East Coast for the last three years of college.”
At Kurt’s questioning eyebrow, he elaborated, “So, I’m registering for classes first term freshman year, yeah? And fuck if I know what the fuck to take, so I pick four random classes.”
Kurt snorts, “Oh, this should be good.”
Puck smirked, “Me being an idiot, I didn’t even look at the class titles, just where I had to be and when.”
“So what was the final line up?”
“Econ 101, The Chemistry of CSI, Intro to Film Studies, and-“ he paused for effect “-Feminist Theory.”
Kurt choked on sip of water he’d just taken. “No way,” he breathed. Puck nodded and Kurt fell into hysterics. Puck laughed with him.
It took them a while to regain sobriety, but they managed after receiving bewildered looks from their waitress.
“That’s amazing. Tell me you changed classes.”
“No way, man. The Puckster-“ Kurt rolled his eyes “-never quits. And ‘sides, it was full of chicks!”
“Trust Noah Puckerman to take a Feminist class in order to objectify women.”
“It wasn’t like that! Most of them were gay anyway-“ Kurt rolled his eyes again “-but I learned a lot. Actually, I learned a lot in all my classes. The great thing about college was the profs actually cared about teaching. It was cool watching someone talk about something they loved for three hours a week.”
Kurt’s expression was soft, “You were always moved by passion, Noah. It showed every time we watched other people sing. Don’t think I forgot how you cried after I sang ‘Candles’ junior year.”
Puck colored, “Whatever, dude. It got me to go to class and do the work.”
Kurt ran a finger around the rim of his water glass, “So, how did you end up transferring?”
“Right! Well, turns out Film Studies was the best thing ever and the prof was this young chick that I really loved-“
“Please, please, tell me you didn’t sleep with her!” Kurt’s face was aghast.
Puck laughed, “NO, dude. I swear. She was awesome, though. And thought I had potential.” He mimed air quotes. “She was the first adult other than Schue to believe in me, so I threw myself into it. Next semester, I took her Documentaries course.”
“That’s really amazing, Noah.”
“Meh. But it turns out she was only a visiting professor. She had the opportunity for a tenure position at another school, so that year was her last. Professor Michaels told me mid-semester where she was going and so I checked out the school. It had an amazing Film program and I was already hooked. I applied as a transfer, got in, and the next year I was in Connecticut.”
Kurt’s brow was furrowed, “What school?”
“Wesleyan University.”
Kurt actually spit out the drink of water he took this time, “Wesleyan University?! You, Noah Puckerman, went to Wesleyan University?!”
Puck was hurt, “Don’t sound so shocked. I had skills. It wasn’t that hard to get in.”
Kurt’s face did that shocked-hurt thing again, “I’m not surprised you got in, Noah. I’m just surprised that you, king of the jocks, went to a hipster-alternative-activist school like Wesleyan. It has a reputation, you know.”
Puck grinned, “Dude, Wes was awesome. Sure, I met some of the freakiest kids ever, but that was cool. They were all over the place. Politics, arts, music, hell, my best friend at school was a chemistry major. Best years of my life.”
Kurt smiled, “I’m glad you had fun. College was a time of self-discovery, sure. But for me, it was also a way to discover the world. We had so many kids from all over the place, it was really interesting learning about how every one grew up.”
“Totally. Like, 90 percent of the kids I met at Wes had no idea that a school like McKinley existed.”
Kurt snorted, “After being in the real world for six years, I’m having trouble believing a school like McKinley existed. Apparently, a person like Sue Sylvester would have been arrested in most states, not revered.”
They shared a look before breaking into laughter at the thought of Sue being arrested. You think this is hard, try evading the NYPD while running a championship winning cheerleading squad!
“Well, what about you? You didn’t end up going to NYADA, right?”
Kurt nodded, “I got in, but something wasn’t sitting with me. I don’t know why, but it didn’t feel right. I also applied to the Fashion Institute and got in. I went and was so glad I did. I had a lot of fun, met a lot of people, learned a lot of things. College done right, I suppose.”
“So, you’re a designer now?”
Kurt giggled, “Yeah, but not of clothes. I’m an interior designer.”
Puck boggled, “Wait, what?”
Kurt outright laughed, “That’s what my dad said! I don’t know. By the end of my senior year, I was so sick of it. I spent four years and all three of my summers interning! The industry was too full of obnoxious jackasses that thought of themselves as the next Alexander McQueen. I was done.”
“Okay, so you went into interior design.”
“It’s not that different,” Kurt shrugged. “It still involved an eye for detail and taste for color and space. I went home for spring break my senior year and remembered how much fun I had putting together the new house. It was really fulfilling, so when I got back to the city, I applied for jobs at interior design firms.”
“That’s awesome, dude. So, you’re like a big shot designer now?”
Kurt laughed, “Getting there. It’s hard being the youngest designer at the firm, but I think I finally convinced people that I’m there to stay and I am superior to all of them.”
Puck laughed, “That’s the Hummel I remember! Have you advised any people to apply for jobs at the local rendering plant yet?”
Kurt blushed. “No,” he said, unconvincingly.
“Sure,” Puck smirked. “It’s just you and Frankenteen, then?”
“Oh, and Mercedes!”
“What?”
“I can’t believe I forgot to tell you about Mercedes,” Kurt exclaimed. “Well, she went to Northwestern for school. Her parents told her that she needed to major in something practical for college. They didn’t want her to graduate with a degree in the arts, just in case.” Kurt rolled his eyes. “As if Mercedes Jones isn’t talented enough to make it. What a-anyway. She went to Northwestern with the idea of double majoring in the Musical Theater Conservatory and something practical-“ Puck had to laugh at Kurt’s skill to inject a single word with that much disdain “-and settled on government. She got really involved in Obama’s second campaign. Soon, she dropped the Musical Theater major in favor of focusing on government. When senior year came by, she applied to grad school for government and is now pursuing her PhD in government at Columbia.”
The pride in Kurt’s voice and face made Puck grin. “Go Aretha.”
“Damn straight.”
“So she called you and asked to live with you?”
“Don’t sound so surprised! We spent a lot of time in college becoming friends again. I missed her and Rachel was driving me crazy. She lives on the Lower East Side, by the way. Wait! That reminds me!” Kurt reached over to dig through his bag. After a second, he emerged with an envelope triumphantly.
“Here, this is for you!”
Puck stared at the proffered envelope in confusion. It was a plain white envelope, but it was covered in gold star stickers, leaving no room for speculation as to whom the sender was. The question was, what the hell could Rachel Berry possibly want from him?
He opened the envelope with trepidation. Inside it, he found a rather gaudy card with a Christmas tree and menorah on it. Upon opening it, he despaired at the gold glitter that fell into his lap while Kurt laughed.
Puck sighed and read the card.
Merry Chrismakkuah!
You are hereby invited to
Rachel Berry’s Annual
Chrismakkuah Party!
Bring your Christmas cheer and Hanukah
happiness on Christmas Eve Eve!
Underneath listed an address and a number to which he could RSVP at. He looked up at Kurt’s grinning face.
“She never changes, does she?”
Kurt laughed, “No, she doesn’t. And don’t bother calling to RSVP, she already decided that you were coming, no matter what.” Puck chuckled.
“You going?”
“Of course. I’m her best gay.” They shared a grin. “Besides, I have nothing to do that night. Dad and Carol are coming for the holidays on Christmas Eve and staying until January 4th, that’ll be fun. Did your mom come for Hanukah or did you go back home?”
Hanukah was two weeks ago, coming early in December that year. “Nah, the ticket was too expensive for me to go and Sara still had school, so they couldn’t come here. Now that Sara is about to go on break, the two of them are going to Florida to spend winter break with some of the family.”
Kurt looked horrified, “You spent Hanukah alone and now you won’t get to spend some of the holidays with your family?”
“Dude, chill. It wasn’t a big deal. Hanukah isn’t that big of a holiday and I spent it with Seth and his family, my Uncle Ezra and Aunt Ruth. It was pretty good,” Puck assured him.
Kurt was not having it, “You are definitely going to Rachel’s party, then. And you’re going to spend the next couple of days with me and Finn and Mercedes. No question.”
Puck smiled, “No question?”
“Not a one.”
“I’m okay with that,” Puck said, meaning every word.
“Good. Now finish your food so we can walk around the park for a bit. Be aware that tomorrow, we’ll be ice skating in the Rockefeller Ice Rink.”
Puck choked, opening his mouth to protest.
“Not. A. One.”
And that was that.
Part Two