(Put Me Back Together) Not So Subtle (3/?)
Title: Put Me Back Together
Part: Chapter 3: Not So Subtle
Author: Squeeka Cuomo
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Puck, Burt Hummel, Mercedes Jones, Finn Hudson, Quinn Fabray, Emma Pillsbury, Will Schuester, Tina Cohen-Chang, Artie Abrams, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Brittany, Mike Chang, Matt Rutherford
Author’s Note: The title and opening quote for this fic come from the beautiful Weezer song, “Put Me Back Together.” You can find it here.
Warning: This takes place directly after “Sectionals.” Everything up to that point is considered fair game. There are spoilers if you haven’t seen the first 13 episodes.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: All it takes is one moment to break Kurt apart. How many will it take to put not only himself but Puck back together?
Put Me Back TogetherChapter 3: Not So Subtle
“Hey there, Kurt. Come on in.” Miss Pillsbury’s sounded distracted, and her large brown eyes were trained on something just behind him. And even though Kurt was pretty sure he knew what he’d see, he turned his head to look. When his gaze landed on Mr. Schuester waving at the guidance counselor, Kurt just rolled his eyes and took the seat before her desk.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” Even though Schu must have been gone by then, Miss Pillsbury continued to stare lovingly at the place where he’d been.
When she finally turned back to him, her eyes went wide (or wider rather) at the sight of Kurt before her desk. “Oh, look at that. You’re already…” She paused to adjust one of the perfectly sharpened number two pencils lying on her desk. “Already sitting.”
.
Kurt just nodded at her, pushing down a snarky comment about pointing out the obvious. And when she didn’t say anything else, Kurt looked around her office in an effort to look anywhere but at Miss Pillsbury. And what he found surprised him.
Her plants were in different spots, and her bookshelves looked like they’d been reorganized. For the most part, her desk looked the same, but there was still something off about it. And he doubted he would have noticed it, but her office never changed. When he couldn’t take the silence anymore, Kurt looked back at Miss Pillsbury. “Your office looks different from the last time I was here.”
The last time he’d made a trip to her office had been the day after he’d vomited all over her shoes. And as he thought about it, Kurt was surprised that he could remember anything from that day at all. He’d still felt sick, and as if his head were going to explode, and he’d spent most of the meeting trying to hold down the coffee he’d managed to drink before school.
“Yes, well, packing and un-packing will do that.” Miss Pillsbury’s voice was matter-of-fact, and when she noticed the confused look on Kurt’s face, she quickly changed the subject. “Anyway… I sent for you, that’s to say, I called you here because…” She smiled a little at Kurt as she folded her hands on top of the desk. “Will, I mean, Mr. Schuester said that there seemed to be something, like, a problem. Or… or maybe even something else going on between you and Mr. Puckerman during glee practice on Monday.”
At that moment, if Miss Pillsbury had told him that he’d landed the role of the Emcee in Cabaret (on Broadway, not the pathetic version Mr. Ryerson was putting together), he would not have been more surprised than he was by the real reason he was there.
As it was, Kurt was surprised he was there at all.
When Suzy Pepper had walked into Kurt’s first period class and presented him with a hall pass and an appointment slip for the guidance counselor during last period, he’d been shocked. After all, he hadn’t skipped any homework or caused any problems in class. And on top of that his grades were high. So really, there just wasn’t anything he could think of that warranted a trip to the guidance counselor’s office.
And if anyone would have suggested that the meeting was going to be about Puck, he’d probably have cut them down with one well worded remark.
After all, he’d never once gone to Miss Pillsbury after one of his many sojourns into the depths of the dumpsters. (He hadn’t even told his dad about that.)
So, why should one little look between the two of them be cause for alarm?
Well, it had bothered Kurt.
A lot to be honest. But that was because of the kiss and just… just because.
However, there was no way that Mr. Schuester knew about that. Unless Puck had told him that is. But since Kurt was sure Puck had thought he’d been kissing Quinn, he knew that wasn’t the case. And, if by some chance he had known whom he was kissing, Kurt was positive that he wouldn’t have run and told anyone, let alone Schu.
So when Miss Pillsbury confessed the reason for calling him to her office, Kurt could only respond with a very un-witty “Excuse me?”
“Mr. Schuester said he noticed some… some animosity between the two of you while you were telling the other kids about your party. Which, by the way, I think is a wonderful idea. You know, that you’ve made some friends and that you’re having them over.” Miss Pillsbury smiled and nodded as if she hadn’t just changed topics at breakneck speed. And for just a second, Kurt couldn’t help but be annoyed by the fact that everyone seemed to be happy that he’d made some friends. After all, it wasn’t like he’d never made a friend before. Sure, there weren’t many, but he’d still had a friend or two in the past. However, before he could muse on that any longer, Miss Pillsbury spoke again. “But, like I was saying… animosity.”
Animosity? That was what Mr. Schuester had thought he’d seen. Kurt almost couldn’t believe it. Of all things, Schu had read anger and hatred in the look they’d shared. And for some reason, that made Kurt sad. Because to him, it hadn’t felt that way at all.
But then again, Kurt hadn’t known why Puck had been staring at him, All he knew was that Puck gaze had left him breathless and unable to move.
However, Kurt did understand what it was like to be on the other side of Puck’s anger. And it wasn’t fun. He’d learned that by dealing with his near constant taunting from the beginning of seventh grade.
However, ever since Puck had joined glee, he’d begun to lay off, but Kurt would never forget what it felt like to be degraded by the other boy…
The anger that always bubbled just beneath his porcelain skin whenever Puck was about to toss him in the dumpster would always flare up whenever he saw the other boy anywhere near a garbage can.
And he’d never forget the feel of the worry that caused his jaw to tighten up and his eyes to go wide whenever Puck would throw a menacing gaze towards him in the hallway.
But even though Kurt would never be able to forget those things, whenever he thought of the kiss they’d shared… the anger he felt at being tortured lessened a little.
“Kurt?” Miss Pillsbury’s voice was insistent, as if she’d been trying to get his attention for a while.
And when Kurt jumped a little in his seat, he realized that that was exactly what she’d been doing. But before he answered, Kurt took a second to wonder just how long he’d been lost in his thoughts about Puck. “I’m sorry…”
“That’s, it’s, that’s ok.” Miss Pillsbury smiled as she eyed Kurt. “Now, how are things between you and Mr. Puckerman?”
Kurt shifted in his seat a little before answering. “Things are…” He had absolutely no idea how to answer her question. After all, Kurt had no clue where he stood with Puck. So, after a few seconds of struggling for just the right words to get the guidance counselor off his back, he finished with a very lame “fine.”
Miss Pillsbury nodded at him, disbelief filling her doe like eyes. It was clear from her expression that she didn’t believe him. But rather than push, she just nodded as she pursed her lips together.
“Honestly, Miss Pillsbury, things are fine between us.” Kurt put all of his effort into sounding calm and collected.
“Alright. But if you should ever need to talk -” She sounded worried, and her eyes went wide when Kurt interrupted her.
“I’ll come straight to you.” He wouldn’t of course. But Kurt was willing to say just about anything to get out of her office.
“Oh, well. Ok.” Miss Pillsbury looked confused, and Kurt took that as his opportunity to push himself out of the chair before she could protest. When she still didn’t say anything, Kurt all but ran to the office door.
Before pushing his way through it though, Kurt looked back at Miss Pillsbury who still looked as if she were trying to think of something to say. But before she could speak, Kurt looked her in the eyes and said, “Thank you.” When her face split into a wide smile, Kurt took that as his cue to leave.
Rushing down the hall after school, he cursed the fact that his meeting with Miss Pillsbury had gone fifteen minutes past the end of last period and that he still had to stop at his locker. He needed to get home. Kurt had homework to do, a party that he and his father still needed to shop for…
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
“You can say it however you want Kurt, but I saw you two staring at each other.” Mercedes carefully walked down the stairs into Kurt’s basement; her arms were full of snacks that he and his father had picked out the day before. When she reached the bottom step, she made a point to stand still and look at him, her face serious. “It was…”
“For the millionth time…” Kurt exaggerated an eye roll to emphasize his irritation. “There is absolutely nothing going on between us.”
“Kurt, I saw -” Mercedes’ voice was a whine, and it gave him ample time to cut her off.
“You saw nothing. I blame all of the chemical-ridden hairspray you insist upon using.” Kurt took the bags out of her arms and placed them on the chair sitting before his vanity. “It has clearly clouded your judgment.”
“My judgment is fine, and my hairspray is not synthetic. It’s organic. Which you know because you gave it to me.” Mercedes crossed her arms over her chest as if that proved her point.
“Mercedes -” Kurt stopped as he propped up the folding table that would hold all of the refreshments. He instantly regretted it when his best friend used the pause to jump at the chance to speak again.
“Seriously, Kurt.” Mercedes had dropped her arms and crossed the room to help with the table. “I mean, isn’t it time you… moved on? From Finn, I mean?” Her voice was soft, gentle.
Kurt was so shocked by her statement, so taken aback by the abrupt change in the conversation, that his head snapped up so hard it hurt his neck. “And what, you want me to move onto Puck? Someone who is, not only straighter than Finn, but whose favorite pastimes include tossing me in the dumpster every morning?” His words were sharp, enunciated with an angry edge, and there was a fierce blush burning his cheeks.
And the fact that the color in his face was a mixture of anger at Mercedes and the result of the memory of Puck’s lips pressed tenderly against his own only served to make it worse.
“He hasn’t done that in a long time.” Kurt couldn’t help but notice that Mercedes’ sounded calm even though he’d just bitten her head off.
“And that makes it better?” Kurt’s voice had raised an octave, and he could feel the flush creeping into his hairline.
To be honest, he couldn’t care less that Puck had stopped throwing him in the dumpster before school. His new Marc Jacobs jacket was still in critical condition, and his corset would never be the same again. But dry cleaner bills aside, Puck had made an art out of torturing him, and Kurt just didn’t think he had it in himself to forgive Puck.
“Geez, Kurt. Keep your tiara on.” Mercedes made a show out of rolling her eyes when Kurt shook back his hair like a duck ruffling its feathers. “All I’m saying is -” When Kurt tried to interrupt. She held up one hand to stop him. Surprising even himself, Kurt kept his mouth shut, pursing his lips together. “I saw the look between the two of you. And it was private… intimate.” Mercedes’ voice was soft, almost pleading, and Kurt felt himself deflate immediately.
At the time, Kurt hadn’t been able to put a name to what Puck’s gaze had made him feel. But Mercedes had just given him two perfect words, two perfect ways to describe the moment they’d shared.
And as that realization hit him, Kurt felt all of the color drain from his tomato red face. Oh, he still hated Puck and very much loved Finn, but the knowledge that he had shared such a moment with Puck was undeniable. It had happened, and worse yet, Puck knew it as well.
Mercedes’ eyes went wide as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Kurt, are you -” But she was cut off by a voice yelling down from the top of the stairs.
“Hey! Pizza’s here!” Burt came tramping down the steps, five pizza boxes piled up in his arms. And behind him was a tall, reed-thin man with thinning blonde hair and another stack of boxes in his arms.
Kurt rushed forward, unbelievably relieved to have a chance to get away from Mercedes’ searching glare. “Hey, Dad.” Kurt took the boxes from his father and placed them on the table they’d set up near the staircase. “Hi, Uncle Mike.” Kurt moved to take the boxes from the other man but didn’t get a chance to. Mike shoved them into Burt’s arms before pulling Kurt into a bone-crushing hug.
“Heya, Kurty. What’s this I hear about you joining the football team?” Mike had let go of Kurt and moved to mess up his perfectly coifed hair. But before he had a chance, Kurt held up one delicate hand to block him. The move only caused his uncle to laugh.
“Yes, Uncle Mike. I’ve gotten the part of kicker.” Kurt’s clear eyes flickered over to his father who was beaming with pride. He smiled just a little before looking back at his uncle. “I’ll make sure to get you and Dad tickets for a game next season.”
“You better! Or no more free pizza for you.” Mike looked over at Burt, and they nodded at one another.
“Wait… Uncle Mike? As in Uncle Mike’s Pizzeria on Mallard Ave?” Mercedes had taken the pizza boxes out of Burt’s arms and was eyeing them with a newfound respect. Everyone knew that Uncle Mike’s pizza was the best in town.
“Guilty as charged.” Mike smiled proudly.
“You never told me Uncle Mike was your uncle!” Looking incredulous, she turned to Kurt. All he could do was smile.
“Well, Mike isn’t really my uncle. He and my dad played J.C. football together. They’ve been friends ever since.” Kurt smiled from his dad to his uncle.
“Yep. And when this guy here,” Mike elbowed Burt, “said he was gonna have a kid and wanted me to be the Godfather, I couldn’t say no.”
Mercedes smiled and nodded, the pizza boxes still in her arms. Kurt was about to say something else when the grandfather clock in the upstairs hall chimed six times.
“Oh, no!” Kurt looked frantically towards the ceiling as if he could see the clock through the floor. “I put six thirty on the invitations.” Desperation filling him, Kurt looked at his father. He was nowhere near being done setting up.
“Well then, we better get to work.” Burt nodded at Kurt before clapping Mike on the shoulder. “Where did you say you wanted the couch, Kurt?”
“In front of the wall where we talked about projecting the video.” Kurt pointed daintily from the couch to the center of the floor to the large, white wall. When he looked back at his dad, Burt was torn between nodding his head and shaking it from side to side.
“Alright, we’ll take care of the heavy lifting.” Uncle Mike’s face was a amused smirk as he looked from Kurt to Burt. “You two,” he looked at Kurt and Mercedes. “Take care of setting up the food. And make sure to keep the pizzas closed until it’s time to eat.”
When the doorbell rang exactly thirty minutes later, Kurt took one last look around his basement bedroom. The couch was set up with the projector behind it, and other chairs were placed around it. The refreshment table was laden down with chips and dip, brownies, cookies, and a small bowl of candy. There was also a vegetable tray with a tub of dip in the middle. The pizzas were set up on a second table waiting to be opened, and under the tables were tubs full of ice, pop cans, and water bottles.
The second time the buzzer rang, Burt and Mike both squeezed Kurt’s shoulder before heading upstairs to answer the door.
Just as soon as they were out of earshot, Kurt looked over at Mercedes, his face stern. “Don’t you ever tell anyone you heard Uncle Mike call me Kurty.” He took another step closer to her, trying to look menacing. “And if, for some reason, you should…. I will make sure to burn your technicolor, zebra-print hoodie.”
As Mike and Matt bounded down the stairs, Mercedes broke into a fit of laughter.
Squeeka Cuomo’s Notes
- The title and opening quote for this fic come from the beautiful Weezer song, “Put Me Back Together.” You can find it here.
- To all of my lovely readers and reviewers, thank you so very much. I’m so happy you’re enjoying this so far! :)
- Quack: Thank you so much! You’re an amazing beta. :duck:
- Reviews are love.
Put Me Back Together
Chapter 1: Kiss Me Goodbye
Chapter 2: Of Soirees and Sarongs
Part: Chapter 3: Not So Subtle
Author: Squeeka Cuomo
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Puck, Burt Hummel, Mercedes Jones, Finn Hudson, Quinn Fabray, Emma Pillsbury, Will Schuester, Tina Cohen-Chang, Artie Abrams, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Brittany, Mike Chang, Matt Rutherford
Author’s Note: The title and opening quote for this fic come from the beautiful Weezer song, “Put Me Back Together.” You can find it here.
Warning: This takes place directly after “Sectionals.” Everything up to that point is considered fair game. There are spoilers if you haven’t seen the first 13 episodes.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: All it takes is one moment to break Kurt apart. How many will it take to put not only himself but Puck back together?
Put Me Back TogetherChapter 3: Not So Subtle
“Hey there, Kurt. Come on in.” Miss Pillsbury’s sounded distracted, and her large brown eyes were trained on something just behind him. And even though Kurt was pretty sure he knew what he’d see, he turned his head to look. When his gaze landed on Mr. Schuester waving at the guidance counselor, Kurt just rolled his eyes and took the seat before her desk.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” Even though Schu must have been gone by then, Miss Pillsbury continued to stare lovingly at the place where he’d been.
When she finally turned back to him, her eyes went wide (or wider rather) at the sight of Kurt before her desk. “Oh, look at that. You’re already…” She paused to adjust one of the perfectly sharpened number two pencils lying on her desk. “Already sitting.”
.
Kurt just nodded at her, pushing down a snarky comment about pointing out the obvious. And when she didn’t say anything else, Kurt looked around her office in an effort to look anywhere but at Miss Pillsbury. And what he found surprised him.
Her plants were in different spots, and her bookshelves looked like they’d been reorganized. For the most part, her desk looked the same, but there was still something off about it. And he doubted he would have noticed it, but her office never changed. When he couldn’t take the silence anymore, Kurt looked back at Miss Pillsbury. “Your office looks different from the last time I was here.”
The last time he’d made a trip to her office had been the day after he’d vomited all over her shoes. And as he thought about it, Kurt was surprised that he could remember anything from that day at all. He’d still felt sick, and as if his head were going to explode, and he’d spent most of the meeting trying to hold down the coffee he’d managed to drink before school.
“Yes, well, packing and un-packing will do that.” Miss Pillsbury’s voice was matter-of-fact, and when she noticed the confused look on Kurt’s face, she quickly changed the subject. “Anyway… I sent for you, that’s to say, I called you here because…” She smiled a little at Kurt as she folded her hands on top of the desk. “Will, I mean, Mr. Schuester said that there seemed to be something, like, a problem. Or… or maybe even something else going on between you and Mr. Puckerman during glee practice on Monday.”
At that moment, if Miss Pillsbury had told him that he’d landed the role of the Emcee in Cabaret (on Broadway, not the pathetic version Mr. Ryerson was putting together), he would not have been more surprised than he was by the real reason he was there.
As it was, Kurt was surprised he was there at all.
When Suzy Pepper had walked into Kurt’s first period class and presented him with a hall pass and an appointment slip for the guidance counselor during last period, he’d been shocked. After all, he hadn’t skipped any homework or caused any problems in class. And on top of that his grades were high. So really, there just wasn’t anything he could think of that warranted a trip to the guidance counselor’s office.
And if anyone would have suggested that the meeting was going to be about Puck, he’d probably have cut them down with one well worded remark.
After all, he’d never once gone to Miss Pillsbury after one of his many sojourns into the depths of the dumpsters. (He hadn’t even told his dad about that.)
So, why should one little look between the two of them be cause for alarm?
Well, it had bothered Kurt.
A lot to be honest. But that was because of the kiss and just… just because.
However, there was no way that Mr. Schuester knew about that. Unless Puck had told him that is. But since Kurt was sure Puck had thought he’d been kissing Quinn, he knew that wasn’t the case. And, if by some chance he had known whom he was kissing, Kurt was positive that he wouldn’t have run and told anyone, let alone Schu.
So when Miss Pillsbury confessed the reason for calling him to her office, Kurt could only respond with a very un-witty “Excuse me?”
“Mr. Schuester said he noticed some… some animosity between the two of you while you were telling the other kids about your party. Which, by the way, I think is a wonderful idea. You know, that you’ve made some friends and that you’re having them over.” Miss Pillsbury smiled and nodded as if she hadn’t just changed topics at breakneck speed. And for just a second, Kurt couldn’t help but be annoyed by the fact that everyone seemed to be happy that he’d made some friends. After all, it wasn’t like he’d never made a friend before. Sure, there weren’t many, but he’d still had a friend or two in the past. However, before he could muse on that any longer, Miss Pillsbury spoke again. “But, like I was saying… animosity.”
Animosity? That was what Mr. Schuester had thought he’d seen. Kurt almost couldn’t believe it. Of all things, Schu had read anger and hatred in the look they’d shared. And for some reason, that made Kurt sad. Because to him, it hadn’t felt that way at all.
But then again, Kurt hadn’t known why Puck had been staring at him, All he knew was that Puck gaze had left him breathless and unable to move.
However, Kurt did understand what it was like to be on the other side of Puck’s anger. And it wasn’t fun. He’d learned that by dealing with his near constant taunting from the beginning of seventh grade.
However, ever since Puck had joined glee, he’d begun to lay off, but Kurt would never forget what it felt like to be degraded by the other boy…
The anger that always bubbled just beneath his porcelain skin whenever Puck was about to toss him in the dumpster would always flare up whenever he saw the other boy anywhere near a garbage can.
And he’d never forget the feel of the worry that caused his jaw to tighten up and his eyes to go wide whenever Puck would throw a menacing gaze towards him in the hallway.
But even though Kurt would never be able to forget those things, whenever he thought of the kiss they’d shared… the anger he felt at being tortured lessened a little.
“Kurt?” Miss Pillsbury’s voice was insistent, as if she’d been trying to get his attention for a while.
And when Kurt jumped a little in his seat, he realized that that was exactly what she’d been doing. But before he answered, Kurt took a second to wonder just how long he’d been lost in his thoughts about Puck. “I’m sorry…”
“That’s, it’s, that’s ok.” Miss Pillsbury smiled as she eyed Kurt. “Now, how are things between you and Mr. Puckerman?”
Kurt shifted in his seat a little before answering. “Things are…” He had absolutely no idea how to answer her question. After all, Kurt had no clue where he stood with Puck. So, after a few seconds of struggling for just the right words to get the guidance counselor off his back, he finished with a very lame “fine.”
Miss Pillsbury nodded at him, disbelief filling her doe like eyes. It was clear from her expression that she didn’t believe him. But rather than push, she just nodded as she pursed her lips together.
“Honestly, Miss Pillsbury, things are fine between us.” Kurt put all of his effort into sounding calm and collected.
“Alright. But if you should ever need to talk -” She sounded worried, and her eyes went wide when Kurt interrupted her.
“I’ll come straight to you.” He wouldn’t of course. But Kurt was willing to say just about anything to get out of her office.
“Oh, well. Ok.” Miss Pillsbury looked confused, and Kurt took that as his opportunity to push himself out of the chair before she could protest. When she still didn’t say anything, Kurt all but ran to the office door.
Before pushing his way through it though, Kurt looked back at Miss Pillsbury who still looked as if she were trying to think of something to say. But before she could speak, Kurt looked her in the eyes and said, “Thank you.” When her face split into a wide smile, Kurt took that as his cue to leave.
Rushing down the hall after school, he cursed the fact that his meeting with Miss Pillsbury had gone fifteen minutes past the end of last period and that he still had to stop at his locker. He needed to get home. Kurt had homework to do, a party that he and his father still needed to shop for…
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
“You can say it however you want Kurt, but I saw you two staring at each other.” Mercedes carefully walked down the stairs into Kurt’s basement; her arms were full of snacks that he and his father had picked out the day before. When she reached the bottom step, she made a point to stand still and look at him, her face serious. “It was…”
“For the millionth time…” Kurt exaggerated an eye roll to emphasize his irritation. “There is absolutely nothing going on between us.”
“Kurt, I saw -” Mercedes’ voice was a whine, and it gave him ample time to cut her off.
“You saw nothing. I blame all of the chemical-ridden hairspray you insist upon using.” Kurt took the bags out of her arms and placed them on the chair sitting before his vanity. “It has clearly clouded your judgment.”
“My judgment is fine, and my hairspray is not synthetic. It’s organic. Which you know because you gave it to me.” Mercedes crossed her arms over her chest as if that proved her point.
“Mercedes -” Kurt stopped as he propped up the folding table that would hold all of the refreshments. He instantly regretted it when his best friend used the pause to jump at the chance to speak again.
“Seriously, Kurt.” Mercedes had dropped her arms and crossed the room to help with the table. “I mean, isn’t it time you… moved on? From Finn, I mean?” Her voice was soft, gentle.
Kurt was so shocked by her statement, so taken aback by the abrupt change in the conversation, that his head snapped up so hard it hurt his neck. “And what, you want me to move onto Puck? Someone who is, not only straighter than Finn, but whose favorite pastimes include tossing me in the dumpster every morning?” His words were sharp, enunciated with an angry edge, and there was a fierce blush burning his cheeks.
And the fact that the color in his face was a mixture of anger at Mercedes and the result of the memory of Puck’s lips pressed tenderly against his own only served to make it worse.
“He hasn’t done that in a long time.” Kurt couldn’t help but notice that Mercedes’ sounded calm even though he’d just bitten her head off.
“And that makes it better?” Kurt’s voice had raised an octave, and he could feel the flush creeping into his hairline.
To be honest, he couldn’t care less that Puck had stopped throwing him in the dumpster before school. His new Marc Jacobs jacket was still in critical condition, and his corset would never be the same again. But dry cleaner bills aside, Puck had made an art out of torturing him, and Kurt just didn’t think he had it in himself to forgive Puck.
“Geez, Kurt. Keep your tiara on.” Mercedes made a show out of rolling her eyes when Kurt shook back his hair like a duck ruffling its feathers. “All I’m saying is -” When Kurt tried to interrupt. She held up one hand to stop him. Surprising even himself, Kurt kept his mouth shut, pursing his lips together. “I saw the look between the two of you. And it was private… intimate.” Mercedes’ voice was soft, almost pleading, and Kurt felt himself deflate immediately.
At the time, Kurt hadn’t been able to put a name to what Puck’s gaze had made him feel. But Mercedes had just given him two perfect words, two perfect ways to describe the moment they’d shared.
And as that realization hit him, Kurt felt all of the color drain from his tomato red face. Oh, he still hated Puck and very much loved Finn, but the knowledge that he had shared such a moment with Puck was undeniable. It had happened, and worse yet, Puck knew it as well.
Mercedes’ eyes went wide as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Kurt, are you -” But she was cut off by a voice yelling down from the top of the stairs.
“Hey! Pizza’s here!” Burt came tramping down the steps, five pizza boxes piled up in his arms. And behind him was a tall, reed-thin man with thinning blonde hair and another stack of boxes in his arms.
Kurt rushed forward, unbelievably relieved to have a chance to get away from Mercedes’ searching glare. “Hey, Dad.” Kurt took the boxes from his father and placed them on the table they’d set up near the staircase. “Hi, Uncle Mike.” Kurt moved to take the boxes from the other man but didn’t get a chance to. Mike shoved them into Burt’s arms before pulling Kurt into a bone-crushing hug.
“Heya, Kurty. What’s this I hear about you joining the football team?” Mike had let go of Kurt and moved to mess up his perfectly coifed hair. But before he had a chance, Kurt held up one delicate hand to block him. The move only caused his uncle to laugh.
“Yes, Uncle Mike. I’ve gotten the part of kicker.” Kurt’s clear eyes flickered over to his father who was beaming with pride. He smiled just a little before looking back at his uncle. “I’ll make sure to get you and Dad tickets for a game next season.”
“You better! Or no more free pizza for you.” Mike looked over at Burt, and they nodded at one another.
“Wait… Uncle Mike? As in Uncle Mike’s Pizzeria on Mallard Ave?” Mercedes had taken the pizza boxes out of Burt’s arms and was eyeing them with a newfound respect. Everyone knew that Uncle Mike’s pizza was the best in town.
“Guilty as charged.” Mike smiled proudly.
“You never told me Uncle Mike was your uncle!” Looking incredulous, she turned to Kurt. All he could do was smile.
“Well, Mike isn’t really my uncle. He and my dad played J.C. football together. They’ve been friends ever since.” Kurt smiled from his dad to his uncle.
“Yep. And when this guy here,” Mike elbowed Burt, “said he was gonna have a kid and wanted me to be the Godfather, I couldn’t say no.”
Mercedes smiled and nodded, the pizza boxes still in her arms. Kurt was about to say something else when the grandfather clock in the upstairs hall chimed six times.
“Oh, no!” Kurt looked frantically towards the ceiling as if he could see the clock through the floor. “I put six thirty on the invitations.” Desperation filling him, Kurt looked at his father. He was nowhere near being done setting up.
“Well then, we better get to work.” Burt nodded at Kurt before clapping Mike on the shoulder. “Where did you say you wanted the couch, Kurt?”
“In front of the wall where we talked about projecting the video.” Kurt pointed daintily from the couch to the center of the floor to the large, white wall. When he looked back at his dad, Burt was torn between nodding his head and shaking it from side to side.
“Alright, we’ll take care of the heavy lifting.” Uncle Mike’s face was a amused smirk as he looked from Kurt to Burt. “You two,” he looked at Kurt and Mercedes. “Take care of setting up the food. And make sure to keep the pizzas closed until it’s time to eat.”
When the doorbell rang exactly thirty minutes later, Kurt took one last look around his basement bedroom. The couch was set up with the projector behind it, and other chairs were placed around it. The refreshment table was laden down with chips and dip, brownies, cookies, and a small bowl of candy. There was also a vegetable tray with a tub of dip in the middle. The pizzas were set up on a second table waiting to be opened, and under the tables were tubs full of ice, pop cans, and water bottles.
The second time the buzzer rang, Burt and Mike both squeezed Kurt’s shoulder before heading upstairs to answer the door.
Just as soon as they were out of earshot, Kurt looked over at Mercedes, his face stern. “Don’t you ever tell anyone you heard Uncle Mike call me Kurty.” He took another step closer to her, trying to look menacing. “And if, for some reason, you should…. I will make sure to burn your technicolor, zebra-print hoodie.”
As Mike and Matt bounded down the stairs, Mercedes broke into a fit of laughter.
Squeeka Cuomo’s Notes
- The title and opening quote for this fic come from the beautiful Weezer song, “Put Me Back Together.” You can find it here.
- To all of my lovely readers and reviewers, thank you so very much. I’m so happy you’re enjoying this so far! :)
- Quack: Thank you so much! You’re an amazing beta. :duck:
- Reviews are love.
Put Me Back Together
Chapter 1: Kiss Me Goodbye
Chapter 2: Of Soirees and Sarongs