7 Days and a Lifetime with Mr. Arrogant 2/2
Title:7 Days and a Lifetime with Mr. Arrogant 2/2
Author:dadomz
Rating:PG13 R18
Characters/Pairings:Puck/Kurt
Notes:To get a glimpse of how the Puck/Kurt dynamic worked, I had my 6’5 boyfriend kiss my 5’5 self-that made for good research. Thank you byte366 for the thorough beta work and the useful insights.
Warning:It’s R18 for a reason-so err, swearing, innuendoes, and mentions of alcohol will be present (if not, rampant). Also, for the benefit of everyone else, I’ve included several mentions of High School Musical characters in this story. Crossovers are usually not my “thing” and they may not be yours too, so I’ll totally forgive you if you decide to not bother (reading).
Disclaimer:Don’t own anything, not even those cheap Jeffrey Campbell, Balmain knock-offs.
Summary:Armed with nothing but a Louis Vuitton suitcase, a Goyard Weekender, and an obligatory vacation leave to nurse a broken heart, Kurt Hummel is now back in Lima, Ohio.
Part 1: OVER HERE.
SIXTY-TWO WEEKS LATER
“Why hello, little Tabitha Rose, I wasn’t expecting you or your Mommy today.” Kurt stands up to grab the huge Fendi diaper bag from Ryan’s shoulder and settles it on the cream leather armchair right across his office desk, “Unfortunately, I no longer have any of those baby Dior coupons from last week’s event, my greedy pregnant officemates hoarded it all to themselves.”
“Tabby has enough designer onesies from Auntie Kurt to last her a lifetime.” Ryan brandishes a cup of Starbucks and hands it over to Kurt, “She’s been so fussy lately, it’s a good thing rehearsals ended early today or she’s going to drive the nanny and Chad batty.”
“Well, this place needs a bit of Tabitha’s charm. So Tabby, what do you think? Do you like my new office?”
Ryan smirks, “Tabitha approves. It’s big and shiny, perfect for the newly instated fashion editor of Elle Magazine.”
“You mean, youngest male fashion editor ever in the history of relevant fashion magazines.” Kurt pops the lid open, “and don’t you dare forget it.”
“So what time are we picking your dad up from the airport?” Ryan leans against the chair, the blonde baby pressed against his chest.
“Probably in two hours.” Kurt turns briefly away from his iMac; “His flight got delayed for an hour since it’s snowing like mad. Also, I hope you don’t mind, but I asked your oafish husband to accompany us to the airport.”
“No I don’t mind but why?”
“Ever since you won that stupid Oscar, the press has been following you non-stop and I’m so sick of being labeled on Perez Hilton as your non-celebrity friend, especially when I’m wearing something horrible like my eight year old Isabelle Marant sweatpants. Besides, with Chad around, the paps will be too afraid to do anything unless they want their faces bashed in with the cameras they’re lugging around.”
Ryan cocks his head slightly and squints, “What musical are you watching on your computer?”
“You have the attention span of a goldfish.” Kurt rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively, “It’s my high school regional performance. I’ve somehow managed to unearth one from Rachel Berry’s youtube page.”
Ryan’s mouth is slightly agape, “You were classmates with Rachel Berry? The Rachel Berry?”
“Story of my life. Who do you think turned me off Broadway?”
“You’re a great performer.” Ryan cradles a sleeping Tabitha, “I’m glad Tabby is surrounded by numerous musical influences in her life.”
Kurt wants to assure Ryan that Tabitha is a born performer; it’s in her genes after all. But talking about genes might re-open old wounds, especially since it’s barely six months since Tabitha’s mother, Ryan’s twin sister, died during childbirth.
Ryan and Chad, being Tabitha’s only godparents, took her in immediately in spite of Ryan’s parents’ protests.
And Kurt was glad he had forgiven Ryan the very moment he came back to New York (which was probably around seven or so months before Tabitha came around), because Ryan (and in effect, Chad) had been a mess when Tabitha’s mother died. Sure, he made them both work for it, making them literally grovel, do his chores, and bribe him with expensive designer gifts, but he knew he couldn’t stay mad at them for long.
How can you fault someone for wanting to be happy anyway?
So he forgave Ryan and Chad. Coincidentally on the same day he received his first email from Puck that simply stated: “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
And Puck would email him from time to time, small one-liners or silly pick-up lines that would never fail to make Kurt smile. And Kurt would almost always not reply, because he’s got too much to say. But there are times when his resolve slips and he’ll end up sending a stupid, pathetic: “Me too.”
AND A LIFETIME
“One Dark Roast Venti and one Low-Fat Caramel Frappuccino.” Chad hands Kurt a large paper bag from Starbucks and takes Tabitha from Ryan’s arms, “Because you’re bitchy when you don’t get your dose of caffeine for the day.”
“Thanks but I’ve already had three cups.” Kurt hands the drink to Ryan, who happily snatches it from Kurt’s grasp.
Chad gives him a disapproving look.
“What? It’s my first in three weeks!”
“At this rate, we’ll never be able to kick our caffeine addiction to the curb.”
“Don’t look now but that TMZ reporter is headed our way.” Ryan gives Chad a pointed look, “Play nice dear, we don’t really need another lawsuit.”
“Oh you poor little celebrities.” Kurt says blithely and glances at the digital clock hanging right in front of them, “And Ryan, no matter what you say, please, I’m begging you, don’t egg them on when they bring up that ridiculous rumor.”
“What ridiculous rumor?” Ryan replies innocently.
“That we’re in a polyamorous relationship!” Kurt says a little bit too loudly, “I mean it! My dad’s plane just landed and I don’t want him being accosted by questions pertaining to our non-existent threesomes.”
“Save for that one time.” Chad says knowingly.
“Fuck you, Danforth.”
“Foul.” Chad makes a face; “Fine, Ry and I will fend off those big bad reporters so you can make a clean exit. I promise I won’t even mention orgies.”
“Not even for shock value?” Ryan flutters his eyelashes.
“Please be Brad and Angie, just for today.” Kurt says exasperatedly and checks his phone, “Oh great, my dad’s by the gate, go and talk to the paps while I look for him”
So Kurt wanders around, probably within a three feet diameter from the ambushed Chad and Ryan. He picks up his phone with his free hand and dials Burt’s number.
And just when Burt picks up, he’s seeing something.
Someone rather.
Could it be a coincidence or a figment of his imagination? Because there’s no way in hell that Noah Puckerman is standing right by Terminal 5’s gates and waving at him.
And he’s surprised-so surprised, it feels like the wind has been knocked out of his lungs. Then again, Puck has this uncanny ability to make Kurt feel like he’s short of breath. It gives the idiom “take my breath away” a whole new meaning.
The paper bag slips from his hold and falls sloppily on the floor; Kurt could care less that it’s making a mess on his pristine white loafers.
The ironic thing about it all is that he’s standing right in front of a Damon McKinley poster. Yes, that Damon McKinley, who was once destitute and living off paycheck to paycheck, and now, currently, the next Jeff Buckley with Bob Dylan’s literary skills and Robert Plant’s good looks.
Damon McKinley has definitely gotten his wish and maybe, just maybe, Kurt will too.
With a trembling hand, Kurt presses the phone back to his ears and whispers a small “Hi.”
Even from a few feet away, Kurt could tell Puck is smiling. He has his phone to his ear as well, and it nearly gives Kurt a coronary when he hears Puck’s greeting clearly over the other line. Puck walks over slowly and agonizingly and he’s twice his mass now, all muscles and widened chest, and tiny little scars.
Kurt has the urge to run towards Puck and throw his own weight to the other man’s arms but instead; he stands firmly, biting his lips from time to time. He already looks like a lovestruck fool anyway so the throw-yourself-in-one’s-arms routine would be a little bit superfluous.
His heart is currently beating twice as fast as it should be and Kurt could hear it quite clearly. It’s managed to become thundering by the time Puck is standing right in front of him.
And Puck just sort of grabs him by the neck and kisses him, while everyone is looking.
The feeling comes back to him-that weird buzzing sound, that tiny flecks of lights exploding behind his eyelids, that scent of chocolates and cinnamon, and that welcoming warmth.
And he’s unabashed and the display is gratuitous but fuck them all, just fuck them all. This was his moment and he’s been waiting for this for an entire lifetime.
By the time Puck pulls away, he’s smiling.
And Puck says: “Someone once told me that love might compel people to venture into a relationship.”
“Someone once told me that if you want it hard enough, then it’s going to happen, even if it’s someday.”
Puck laughs, “Whoever he is, shake his hand for me.”
Kurt laughs and hugs Puck by the waist, cheek pressed against his chest, “You can do it yourself when you return his cell phone.”
END
Author:dadomz
Rating:PG13 R18
Characters/Pairings:Puck/Kurt
Notes:To get a glimpse of how the Puck/Kurt dynamic worked, I had my 6’5 boyfriend kiss my 5’5 self-that made for good research. Thank you byte366 for the thorough beta work and the useful insights.
Warning:It’s R18 for a reason-so err, swearing, innuendoes, and mentions of alcohol will be present (if not, rampant). Also, for the benefit of everyone else, I’ve included several mentions of High School Musical characters in this story. Crossovers are usually not my “thing” and they may not be yours too, so I’ll totally forgive you if you decide to not bother (reading).
Disclaimer:Don’t own anything, not even those cheap Jeffrey Campbell, Balmain knock-offs.
Summary:Armed with nothing but a Louis Vuitton suitcase, a Goyard Weekender, and an obligatory vacation leave to nurse a broken heart, Kurt Hummel is now back in Lima, Ohio.
Part 1: OVER HERE.
SIXTY-TWO WEEKS LATER
“Why hello, little Tabitha Rose, I wasn’t expecting you or your Mommy today.” Kurt stands up to grab the huge Fendi diaper bag from Ryan’s shoulder and settles it on the cream leather armchair right across his office desk, “Unfortunately, I no longer have any of those baby Dior coupons from last week’s event, my greedy pregnant officemates hoarded it all to themselves.”
“Tabby has enough designer onesies from Auntie Kurt to last her a lifetime.” Ryan brandishes a cup of Starbucks and hands it over to Kurt, “She’s been so fussy lately, it’s a good thing rehearsals ended early today or she’s going to drive the nanny and Chad batty.”
“Well, this place needs a bit of Tabitha’s charm. So Tabby, what do you think? Do you like my new office?”
Ryan smirks, “Tabitha approves. It’s big and shiny, perfect for the newly instated fashion editor of Elle Magazine.”
“You mean, youngest male fashion editor ever in the history of relevant fashion magazines.” Kurt pops the lid open, “and don’t you dare forget it.”
“So what time are we picking your dad up from the airport?” Ryan leans against the chair, the blonde baby pressed against his chest.
“Probably in two hours.” Kurt turns briefly away from his iMac; “His flight got delayed for an hour since it’s snowing like mad. Also, I hope you don’t mind, but I asked your oafish husband to accompany us to the airport.”
“No I don’t mind but why?”
“Ever since you won that stupid Oscar, the press has been following you non-stop and I’m so sick of being labeled on Perez Hilton as your non-celebrity friend, especially when I’m wearing something horrible like my eight year old Isabelle Marant sweatpants. Besides, with Chad around, the paps will be too afraid to do anything unless they want their faces bashed in with the cameras they’re lugging around.”
Ryan cocks his head slightly and squints, “What musical are you watching on your computer?”
“You have the attention span of a goldfish.” Kurt rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively, “It’s my high school regional performance. I’ve somehow managed to unearth one from Rachel Berry’s youtube page.”
Ryan’s mouth is slightly agape, “You were classmates with Rachel Berry? The Rachel Berry?”
“Story of my life. Who do you think turned me off Broadway?”
“You’re a great performer.” Ryan cradles a sleeping Tabitha, “I’m glad Tabby is surrounded by numerous musical influences in her life.”
Kurt wants to assure Ryan that Tabitha is a born performer; it’s in her genes after all. But talking about genes might re-open old wounds, especially since it’s barely six months since Tabitha’s mother, Ryan’s twin sister, died during childbirth.
Ryan and Chad, being Tabitha’s only godparents, took her in immediately in spite of Ryan’s parents’ protests.
And Kurt was glad he had forgiven Ryan the very moment he came back to New York (which was probably around seven or so months before Tabitha came around), because Ryan (and in effect, Chad) had been a mess when Tabitha’s mother died. Sure, he made them both work for it, making them literally grovel, do his chores, and bribe him with expensive designer gifts, but he knew he couldn’t stay mad at them for long.
How can you fault someone for wanting to be happy anyway?
So he forgave Ryan and Chad. Coincidentally on the same day he received his first email from Puck that simply stated: “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
And Puck would email him from time to time, small one-liners or silly pick-up lines that would never fail to make Kurt smile. And Kurt would almost always not reply, because he’s got too much to say. But there are times when his resolve slips and he’ll end up sending a stupid, pathetic: “Me too.”
AND A LIFETIME
“One Dark Roast Venti and one Low-Fat Caramel Frappuccino.” Chad hands Kurt a large paper bag from Starbucks and takes Tabitha from Ryan’s arms, “Because you’re bitchy when you don’t get your dose of caffeine for the day.”
“Thanks but I’ve already had three cups.” Kurt hands the drink to Ryan, who happily snatches it from Kurt’s grasp.
Chad gives him a disapproving look.
“What? It’s my first in three weeks!”
“At this rate, we’ll never be able to kick our caffeine addiction to the curb.”
“Don’t look now but that TMZ reporter is headed our way.” Ryan gives Chad a pointed look, “Play nice dear, we don’t really need another lawsuit.”
“Oh you poor little celebrities.” Kurt says blithely and glances at the digital clock hanging right in front of them, “And Ryan, no matter what you say, please, I’m begging you, don’t egg them on when they bring up that ridiculous rumor.”
“What ridiculous rumor?” Ryan replies innocently.
“That we’re in a polyamorous relationship!” Kurt says a little bit too loudly, “I mean it! My dad’s plane just landed and I don’t want him being accosted by questions pertaining to our non-existent threesomes.”
“Save for that one time.” Chad says knowingly.
“Fuck you, Danforth.”
“Foul.” Chad makes a face; “Fine, Ry and I will fend off those big bad reporters so you can make a clean exit. I promise I won’t even mention orgies.”
“Not even for shock value?” Ryan flutters his eyelashes.
“Please be Brad and Angie, just for today.” Kurt says exasperatedly and checks his phone, “Oh great, my dad’s by the gate, go and talk to the paps while I look for him”
So Kurt wanders around, probably within a three feet diameter from the ambushed Chad and Ryan. He picks up his phone with his free hand and dials Burt’s number.
And just when Burt picks up, he’s seeing something.
Someone rather.
Could it be a coincidence or a figment of his imagination? Because there’s no way in hell that Noah Puckerman is standing right by Terminal 5’s gates and waving at him.
And he’s surprised-so surprised, it feels like the wind has been knocked out of his lungs. Then again, Puck has this uncanny ability to make Kurt feel like he’s short of breath. It gives the idiom “take my breath away” a whole new meaning.
The paper bag slips from his hold and falls sloppily on the floor; Kurt could care less that it’s making a mess on his pristine white loafers.
The ironic thing about it all is that he’s standing right in front of a Damon McKinley poster. Yes, that Damon McKinley, who was once destitute and living off paycheck to paycheck, and now, currently, the next Jeff Buckley with Bob Dylan’s literary skills and Robert Plant’s good looks.
Damon McKinley has definitely gotten his wish and maybe, just maybe, Kurt will too.
With a trembling hand, Kurt presses the phone back to his ears and whispers a small “Hi.”
Even from a few feet away, Kurt could tell Puck is smiling. He has his phone to his ear as well, and it nearly gives Kurt a coronary when he hears Puck’s greeting clearly over the other line. Puck walks over slowly and agonizingly and he’s twice his mass now, all muscles and widened chest, and tiny little scars.
Kurt has the urge to run towards Puck and throw his own weight to the other man’s arms but instead; he stands firmly, biting his lips from time to time. He already looks like a lovestruck fool anyway so the throw-yourself-in-one’s-arms routine would be a little bit superfluous.
His heart is currently beating twice as fast as it should be and Kurt could hear it quite clearly. It’s managed to become thundering by the time Puck is standing right in front of him.
And Puck just sort of grabs him by the neck and kisses him, while everyone is looking.
The feeling comes back to him-that weird buzzing sound, that tiny flecks of lights exploding behind his eyelids, that scent of chocolates and cinnamon, and that welcoming warmth.
And he’s unabashed and the display is gratuitous but fuck them all, just fuck them all. This was his moment and he’s been waiting for this for an entire lifetime.
By the time Puck pulls away, he’s smiling.
And Puck says: “Someone once told me that love might compel people to venture into a relationship.”
“Someone once told me that if you want it hard enough, then it’s going to happen, even if it’s someday.”
Puck laughs, “Whoever he is, shake his hand for me.”
Kurt laughs and hugs Puck by the waist, cheek pressed against his chest, “You can do it yourself when you return his cell phone.”
END