(Put Me Back Together) Just Breathe (10/?)
Title: Put Me Back Together
Part: Chapter 10: Just Breathe
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.
- I know there are tons of spoilers out for the upcoming episodes. Please don’t post them in the comments.
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 10: Just Breathe
Later that night, Kurt went to bed with his head full of thoughts of Finn, Puck, and Rachel. He tossed and turned, trying every trick he knew to clear his muddled brain. Because Kurt needed his beauty sleep, and there was no way he was going to get it if he couldn’t clear his head. As it was, he was afraid that he wouldn’t get any sleep at all, let alone beauty sleep.
But after counting sheep (313 of them), meditating, and even getting a drink of water, Kurt finally managed to drift off to sleep. However, his dreams were far from peaceful.
It wasn’t that his dreams were nightmares. No, they were just… upsetting and hit a little too close to home. In fact, they left him longing for the bizarre serenade of ducks quacking Fleetwood Mac.
For the most part, his dreams were random flashes of what had transpired over the past couple of weeks. Finn and Puck fighting in the choir room.
Rachel’s pathetic attempts to steal Finn from Quinn.
Finn carrying a bleeding Quinn up the basement steps.
It was all there, in his head. But there was one dream that bothered in more than all of the rest combined…
Kurt was in the choir room once again, and Puck was standing before him. But unlike that afternoon, Puck wasn’t hesitating. Instead, he was speaking, his lips moving quickly but soundlessly. And the only thing Kurt could hear was the thunderous pounding of his own heart.
As he watched Puck’s mouth working furiously, Kurt wanted to reach out, grab a hold of Puck’s arm, because he was sure that that was the answer.
That touching Puck would somehow break the spell.
But just as Kurt reached out to the other boy, the same tap on his shoulder he’d felt that afternoon came.
Unlike earlier though, Puck didn’t prompt Kurt to turn around. Instead, he continued his silent litany, apparently unaware of Finn’s presence. It was almost as if Puck could see nothing but Kurt. And even though he didn’t want to turn around, Kurt did.
But the person he came face to face with wasn’t Finn.
Instead, it was Rachel.
Her face was stark, a painful echo of what it had been earlier. And as her brown eyes plaintively searched Kurt’s, she kept repeating one phrase over and over. However, when she spoke, her normally overly perky voice sounded strange, as she begged, “Don’t rain on my parade. Don’t rain on my parade. Don’t rain on my parade…”
Unable to stand the desperation in her eyes any longer, Kurt looked over her head. He didn’t care what was behind her, so long as he could escape the pain that Rachel was radiating. Almost mercifully, Kurt found himself staring at Finn.
Finn was standing a few feet behind Rachel. His arms crossed over his chest. And as Kurt watched him, he expected to feel the familiar fluttering of his heart against his ribs. But he didn’t. Instead, Kurt felt the traitorous organ fall to the depths of his stomach.
Because Finn wasn’t smiling, and he didn’t look sweet or kind. Instead, he was wearing the same smug expression that Kurt had caught a glimpse of only once before.
It was the look Kurt had seen when Finn had told him about Quinn not wanting to see Puck.
And it made Kurt sick to his stomach.
The expression, so awful, so unfamiliar, twisted Finn’s normally handsome features into an almost unrecognizable mask. And Kurt wanted nothing more than to get away from it.
But just as he went to turn from Finn, to run out of the room, a heavy buzzing filled Kurt’s ears. As it grew steadily louder and louder, Kurt couldn’t help but think that it sounded like thousands of bees swarming. The noise was so awful that Kurt threw his hands over them in an effort to block it out.
But all the movement served to do was make the irritating sound grow louder and louder until…
Kurt woke with a start, instinctively shaking his head to try and rid himself of the buzzing. He whipped his head vigorously from side to side, managing to crick his neck in the process. He was filled with thoughts of attack bees, an upset Rachel, and a mute Puck. And that was to say nothing about Finn’s role in what he’d just seen.
When he finally realized that it was just a dream, Kurt pushed back his bangs with a little more force than was really necessary. Because even though he knew the dream wasn’t real, Kurt couldn’t help but feel unnerved by it.
Deep down, Kurt understood what the dream meant and why he’d had it. After all, it wasn’t like it was that abstract. He would have had to have been stupid not to understand it. But he didn’t like the fact that his subconscious saw fit to scramble his memories and serve them up like eggs. He didn’t want to see Rachel’s look of disappointment in his dreams. And it made him physically uncomfortable to think of such an awful expression on Finn’s face.
But most of all, Kurt did not want to dream about Puck.
At all.
And he just wished that…
Before Kurt could figure out what he wanted (or didn’t want) from Puck, his cell phone buzzed ominously. And though the noise was soft, the lingering sound of the buzzing in his dream caused Kurt to jump a little.
Irritated with himself and his nerves (or lack thereof), Kurt snatched his cell off of the table beside his bed. Whoever had texted him at three fifteen am (according to the clock on his phone) was in trouble. He didn’t care whom it was from or what it was about because at that moment, Kurt was irritated for the sake of being irritated. And someone was going to pay for that.
But when the screen of his phone sprang to life with a soft green glow and he saw an unfamiliar number, Kurt felt his anger give way to confusion. The area code was local, but he didn’t recognize the digits.
But still, his curiosity was piqued. Figuring it was just someone with the wrong number, he opened the text, curious to see what it said.
Part of him hoped the text was something really random and ridiculous. After all, Kurt felt like he could deal with a good laugh. But when he read the message, that wasn’t what he got.
Shining through the dark, the phone’s tiny screen said, “Thanks.”
It was only one word, nothing extraordinary, but instantly Kurt knew that it was from Puck. It just… it had to be.
Realistically, Kurt knew that the text could have been from anyone. But he was filled with a bone deep certainty that it wasn’t just some misdialed number.
And before he had a chance to think or overanalyze, Kurt punched in a response and hit send. All he typed was, “Welcome.” But Kurt knew it was enough. And for some reason, it felt like a beginning. Like the start of something new and quite possibly… good.
What that meant, he didn’t know. But something in the very depths of Kurt’s soul gave a tiny flutter of excitement at the thought.
After saving Puck’s number to his cell, Kurt laid back down. He didn’t wait for a response to his text, because honestly, he didn’t really expect one. Their texts were short, perfunctory, and didn’t require any further explanation. All that mattered was that Puck had finally gotten out what he’d been trying to say. And apparently that was enough to soothe Kurt’s subconscious for the night.
The next thing Kurt knew, the alarm on his cell was ringing, letting him know that it was time to get up. As he rolled out of bed, Kurt felt more at ease than he had the past few days. And he was surprised to find just how well rested he felt after the dream and late night texting the night before.
It was a feeling that stayed with him until he got to school.
But the second he walked through the doors, Kurt felt a jittery nervousness seep into his calm aura at the prospect of seeing Puck. Because, as he was getting ready for school (black pants, white shirt, plaid vest), Kurt had made a decision: he was going to talk to Puck. No matter what, Kurt was going to speak to the other boy.
Granted, Kurt had no clue what he was going to say, but he would talk to him.
So Kurt took a few deep breaths in an effort to shake off the sense of doom that was overtaking him. And as he headed towards his locker, he kept up a steady mantra in his head. “Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe...”
But in the long run, all of his deep breaths and internal chanting didn’t help one bit. Because when he ran into Puck after first period, Kurt was so nervous that he couldn’t even bring himself to meet Puck’s eyes. So, before Puck could say anything, Kurt pushed his way through the throngs of students, praying he’d be able to disappear into them.
Kurt spent third period (biology) mentally berating himself for his astounding cowardice. He tried to pay attention to the teacher, but the man’s voice droned on and on in a toneless wave of garbled sound. All around him, Kurt vaguely noticed people were down notes and raising their hands. But Kurt was lost in his own thoughts.
Unfortunately, his inner turmoil left no room for anything else. And when the teacher called on him to answer a very simple question, Kurt could only stutter as the teacher stared at him expectantly. And as it became obvious that he couldn’t answer, the teacher walked away, a look of irritation on his face.
Feeling foolish, Kurt dropped his head towards his notebook, quickly formulating a plan. He knew he should be paying attention, just in case. But Kurt was pretty sure that after that little display, the teacher wouldn’t call on him again any time soon.
With a renewed sense of focus and resolve, Kurt stepped into the hallway after class. Just like always he made his way towards his locker for a quick book change. And as he walked, Kurt kept scanning the hallway for Puck, because he always saw Puck between third and fourth period.
Normally, they would cross paths just as Puck was heading out of the history room. The only reason Kurt knew that was because it had long ago become a habit of Puck’s to shove Kurt just as they passed one another. But even though Puck had pretty much stopped doing that since joining glee club, Kurt still felt apprehensive whenever they crossed paths.
But today, Kurt was ready for that moment, was anticipating it.
And just like always, the moment Kurt walked by the history room, Puck was there. However, rather than looking like he’d just stepped through the door, Puck was standing by the wall. And if Kurt didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Puck was waiting for him.
Now, this wasn’t the first time that Puck had laid in wait for him. However, that was generally by the dumpster. And whenever Kurt got near him, he could feel the animosity rolling off of Puck.
But right then, right there…
Puck seemed relaxed and comfortable. And the sight of him lounging casually against the wall was like a balm to Kurt’s frazzled nerves.
Feeling more confident than he had the past few times he’d tried to talk to Puck, Kurt stopped in front of him. And smiling slightly, Kurt repeated his internal mantra once more before speaking. “Just breathe…”
“Hello, Puck.” Kurt’s voice was breathy, betraying the excitement that had begun to bubble in his stomach. Biting down on his lower lip, he prayed that Puck hadn’t noticed.
But unfortunately, Kurt was pretty sure that Puck had picked up on it, because his dark eyes strayed to Kurt’s lips for just a fraction of a second. The look caused Kurt’s stomach to clench as a bygone memory of their kiss came rushing back. And oddly enough, Kurt felt as if that had happened a million years ago, when in reality, it had been little over a week.
“Hummel.” Puck’s voice was low, devoid of any emotion. But in his eyes, Kurt saw acknowledgement.
And as Puck stood there, staring at him, Kurt realized that he had absolutely no clue what to say. His master plan had only extended to finding Puck after class and talking to him. Kurt hadn’t actually thought about what to say.
As the five minute passing period quickly sped by, Kurt wracked his brain for something, anything. But all that came to mind was the few times they’d touched and the text message from the night before. And neither of those things seemed appropriate for hallway chatter. Especially when Rachel or Mercedes or, Heaven forbid, Finn could come walking by.
From the look on Puck’s face, Kurt could tell that he was getting impatient. And before Kurt realized what he was going to say, his mouth was moving of its own volition.
“You umh…” Kurt paused, wondering why his mouth had chosen that moment to become dryer than the desert. “You forgot your t-shirt at my house the… the other night.” He hated to even bring up Saturday night, and from the look on Puck’s face, he hadn’t enjoyed it either.
Kurt thought about apologizing but decided against it, thinking that it would only make the situation worse. And to apologize would mean formally acknowledging, with words, what had happened. And Kurt just didn’t think that he could handle that. Not yet anyway.
He watched Puck expectantly, hoping he would say something. But he didn’t. Instead, Puck just stood there, staring down at Kurt. And when the silence between them became unbearable, Kurt realized that the other boy wasn’t going to help him out. That if Kurt wanted something to happen, he was going to have to make it happen himself.
“So, umh…” Kurt mentally kicked himself and cursed his internal mantra for failing him so spectacularly. Because at that moment, he felt anything but calm as his heart thudded painfully against his ribs and the palms of his hands began to sweat. “If you want, you can… you can come by tonight and pick it up.”
As Puck eyed him curiously, Kurt prayed that Puck wouldn’t ask him to just bring the shirt to school. Because, for some reason, it seemed crucial that Kurt see him outside of McKinley’s stone walls.
When Puck nodded, Kurt had to fight back a huge sigh of relief.
But that feeling was short lived, because the next moment, the class bell was clanging loudly through the hallway. They were both officially late for class. However, Kurt couldn’t help but feel like it was totally worth it.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
“Oh, stop whining, Elena. You’ve got both Salv-” Kurt stopped mid-sentence, his face flushing tomato red as Puck stood next to the white couch in front of the tv. “Puck. I didn’t hear…”
“Your dad let me in. He said you were down here.” Puck’s eyes flickered around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. Which Kurt found a little odd, but when he followed Puck’s gaze, Kurt realized that it looked way different than it had the night of the party. “So, uh, my shirt?”
“Oh, right.” Kurt jumped off the couch and thanked the fashion gods that he hadn’t changed when he’d gotten home from school. (Oh, he’d taken off his shoes and tie, but Kurt was still impeccably dressed.) Because, somehow, he’d managed to forget that Puck was supposed to stop by.
In retrospect, Kurt realized that he’d been ridiculously busy since school had gotten out for the day. He’d finished his homework while answering phones at his dad’s shop. Then after getting home, he’d cleaned his room, worked on his solo for Schu’s Free For All and then made dinner. And after that, he’d finally sat down to a rerun of The Vampire Diaries. Horrible and melodramatic as the show was, Kurt had yet to miss an episode.
But even though Kurt realized he’d been running ever since he left school, he could not believe that he’d managed to forget about Puck. It just seemed so impossible. So in the end, he decided to attribute the momentary lapse in memory to stress.
Because really, there was just no other explanation.
And because of that, Kurt was sock footed and scrambling to find some semblance of calm. Making his way over to his bedside table to grab the shirt, he desperately tried to come up with a plan of action. One that had more follow through than his earlier plan, because that one had left him stuttering and grasping at straws.
Because when he’d originally invited Puck over, Kurt hadn’t thought about anything beyond getting the other boy into his house. And at the time, that had been his main objective. So he’d used the pretense of returning Puck’s t-shirt, which he now regretted.
Because as the moment loomed nearer, Kurt realized just how much he didn’t want to give it back.
Since washing and folding the shirt after wearing it, Kurt had placed it on his bedside table. It fit neatly next to the lamp, photo, and tattered copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone he kept there. And he didn’t really want to give the shirt back. As silly as it was, Kurt had quickly become attached to it.
Now, he didn’t spread it out on his bed and pretend it was Puck or anything like that. Because, hello? Creepy much? But he did like having it nearby. (Make of that what you will.)
And now, Kurt had to give the shirt back.
But even though his plan had served its purpose, Kurt hadn’t thought about what would happen after he’d handed over the stray article of clothing.
“It’s… It’s right here.” Kurt picked the perfectly folded shirt off of the tiny table. As he held it out to Puck, Kurt’s mind reeled in a last minute attempt to come up with something, anything to say in an effort to keep Puck there.
Unfortunately, his mind was totally blank.
Puck reached out and took the Def Leppard shirt out of Kurt’s hand, not bothering to look at it. Instead, he stared at Kurt with such intensity that Kurt felt a deep flush burning the tips of his ears.
The look was so full of meaning that Kurt felt as if Puck was begging him for something. And even though Kurt didn’t know what the other boy was asking for, he took a deep breath and seized the moment.
Taking a tentative step forward, Kurt reached out and placed his hand on Puck’s forearm. And summoning up all of the courage he possessed, Kurt met Puck’s gaze.
When Kurt spoke, his voice was a soft whisper. “Stay with me.”
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.
- This chapter was inspired by the beautiful Pearl Jam song “Just Breathe.” You can find it here.
- To everyone who has left me a review, thank you so very much. I can’t tell you how much your support means. :duck:
- Quack: Thanks so much for all of your help. Never again will I ask you to find spots where I could elaborate. :P
- Reviews are love.
Put Me Back Together
Chapter 1: Kiss Me Goodbye
Chapter 2: Of Soirees and Sarongs
Chapter 3: Not So Subtle
Chapter 4: Late Arrivals
Chapter 5: Breaking Point
Chapter 6: Empty Hallway
Chapter 7: Cleaning up the Mess
Chapter 8: Dirty Laundry
Chapter 9: Gossip Mongers
Part: Chapter 10: Just Breathe
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.
- I know there are tons of spoilers out for the upcoming episodes. Please don’t post them in the comments.
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 10: Just Breathe
Later that night, Kurt went to bed with his head full of thoughts of Finn, Puck, and Rachel. He tossed and turned, trying every trick he knew to clear his muddled brain. Because Kurt needed his beauty sleep, and there was no way he was going to get it if he couldn’t clear his head. As it was, he was afraid that he wouldn’t get any sleep at all, let alone beauty sleep.
But after counting sheep (313 of them), meditating, and even getting a drink of water, Kurt finally managed to drift off to sleep. However, his dreams were far from peaceful.
It wasn’t that his dreams were nightmares. No, they were just… upsetting and hit a little too close to home. In fact, they left him longing for the bizarre serenade of ducks quacking Fleetwood Mac.
For the most part, his dreams were random flashes of what had transpired over the past couple of weeks. Finn and Puck fighting in the choir room.
Rachel’s pathetic attempts to steal Finn from Quinn.
Finn carrying a bleeding Quinn up the basement steps.
It was all there, in his head. But there was one dream that bothered in more than all of the rest combined…
Kurt was in the choir room once again, and Puck was standing before him. But unlike that afternoon, Puck wasn’t hesitating. Instead, he was speaking, his lips moving quickly but soundlessly. And the only thing Kurt could hear was the thunderous pounding of his own heart.
As he watched Puck’s mouth working furiously, Kurt wanted to reach out, grab a hold of Puck’s arm, because he was sure that that was the answer.
That touching Puck would somehow break the spell.
But just as Kurt reached out to the other boy, the same tap on his shoulder he’d felt that afternoon came.
Unlike earlier though, Puck didn’t prompt Kurt to turn around. Instead, he continued his silent litany, apparently unaware of Finn’s presence. It was almost as if Puck could see nothing but Kurt. And even though he didn’t want to turn around, Kurt did.
But the person he came face to face with wasn’t Finn.
Instead, it was Rachel.
Her face was stark, a painful echo of what it had been earlier. And as her brown eyes plaintively searched Kurt’s, she kept repeating one phrase over and over. However, when she spoke, her normally overly perky voice sounded strange, as she begged, “Don’t rain on my parade. Don’t rain on my parade. Don’t rain on my parade…”
Unable to stand the desperation in her eyes any longer, Kurt looked over her head. He didn’t care what was behind her, so long as he could escape the pain that Rachel was radiating. Almost mercifully, Kurt found himself staring at Finn.
Finn was standing a few feet behind Rachel. His arms crossed over his chest. And as Kurt watched him, he expected to feel the familiar fluttering of his heart against his ribs. But he didn’t. Instead, Kurt felt the traitorous organ fall to the depths of his stomach.
Because Finn wasn’t smiling, and he didn’t look sweet or kind. Instead, he was wearing the same smug expression that Kurt had caught a glimpse of only once before.
It was the look Kurt had seen when Finn had told him about Quinn not wanting to see Puck.
And it made Kurt sick to his stomach.
The expression, so awful, so unfamiliar, twisted Finn’s normally handsome features into an almost unrecognizable mask. And Kurt wanted nothing more than to get away from it.
But just as he went to turn from Finn, to run out of the room, a heavy buzzing filled Kurt’s ears. As it grew steadily louder and louder, Kurt couldn’t help but think that it sounded like thousands of bees swarming. The noise was so awful that Kurt threw his hands over them in an effort to block it out.
But all the movement served to do was make the irritating sound grow louder and louder until…
Kurt woke with a start, instinctively shaking his head to try and rid himself of the buzzing. He whipped his head vigorously from side to side, managing to crick his neck in the process. He was filled with thoughts of attack bees, an upset Rachel, and a mute Puck. And that was to say nothing about Finn’s role in what he’d just seen.
When he finally realized that it was just a dream, Kurt pushed back his bangs with a little more force than was really necessary. Because even though he knew the dream wasn’t real, Kurt couldn’t help but feel unnerved by it.
Deep down, Kurt understood what the dream meant and why he’d had it. After all, it wasn’t like it was that abstract. He would have had to have been stupid not to understand it. But he didn’t like the fact that his subconscious saw fit to scramble his memories and serve them up like eggs. He didn’t want to see Rachel’s look of disappointment in his dreams. And it made him physically uncomfortable to think of such an awful expression on Finn’s face.
But most of all, Kurt did not want to dream about Puck.
At all.
And he just wished that…
Before Kurt could figure out what he wanted (or didn’t want) from Puck, his cell phone buzzed ominously. And though the noise was soft, the lingering sound of the buzzing in his dream caused Kurt to jump a little.
Irritated with himself and his nerves (or lack thereof), Kurt snatched his cell off of the table beside his bed. Whoever had texted him at three fifteen am (according to the clock on his phone) was in trouble. He didn’t care whom it was from or what it was about because at that moment, Kurt was irritated for the sake of being irritated. And someone was going to pay for that.
But when the screen of his phone sprang to life with a soft green glow and he saw an unfamiliar number, Kurt felt his anger give way to confusion. The area code was local, but he didn’t recognize the digits.
But still, his curiosity was piqued. Figuring it was just someone with the wrong number, he opened the text, curious to see what it said.
Part of him hoped the text was something really random and ridiculous. After all, Kurt felt like he could deal with a good laugh. But when he read the message, that wasn’t what he got.
Shining through the dark, the phone’s tiny screen said, “Thanks.”
It was only one word, nothing extraordinary, but instantly Kurt knew that it was from Puck. It just… it had to be.
Realistically, Kurt knew that the text could have been from anyone. But he was filled with a bone deep certainty that it wasn’t just some misdialed number.
And before he had a chance to think or overanalyze, Kurt punched in a response and hit send. All he typed was, “Welcome.” But Kurt knew it was enough. And for some reason, it felt like a beginning. Like the start of something new and quite possibly… good.
What that meant, he didn’t know. But something in the very depths of Kurt’s soul gave a tiny flutter of excitement at the thought.
After saving Puck’s number to his cell, Kurt laid back down. He didn’t wait for a response to his text, because honestly, he didn’t really expect one. Their texts were short, perfunctory, and didn’t require any further explanation. All that mattered was that Puck had finally gotten out what he’d been trying to say. And apparently that was enough to soothe Kurt’s subconscious for the night.
The next thing Kurt knew, the alarm on his cell was ringing, letting him know that it was time to get up. As he rolled out of bed, Kurt felt more at ease than he had the past few days. And he was surprised to find just how well rested he felt after the dream and late night texting the night before.
It was a feeling that stayed with him until he got to school.
But the second he walked through the doors, Kurt felt a jittery nervousness seep into his calm aura at the prospect of seeing Puck. Because, as he was getting ready for school (black pants, white shirt, plaid vest), Kurt had made a decision: he was going to talk to Puck. No matter what, Kurt was going to speak to the other boy.
Granted, Kurt had no clue what he was going to say, but he would talk to him.
So Kurt took a few deep breaths in an effort to shake off the sense of doom that was overtaking him. And as he headed towards his locker, he kept up a steady mantra in his head. “Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe...”
But in the long run, all of his deep breaths and internal chanting didn’t help one bit. Because when he ran into Puck after first period, Kurt was so nervous that he couldn’t even bring himself to meet Puck’s eyes. So, before Puck could say anything, Kurt pushed his way through the throngs of students, praying he’d be able to disappear into them.
Kurt spent third period (biology) mentally berating himself for his astounding cowardice. He tried to pay attention to the teacher, but the man’s voice droned on and on in a toneless wave of garbled sound. All around him, Kurt vaguely noticed people were down notes and raising their hands. But Kurt was lost in his own thoughts.
Unfortunately, his inner turmoil left no room for anything else. And when the teacher called on him to answer a very simple question, Kurt could only stutter as the teacher stared at him expectantly. And as it became obvious that he couldn’t answer, the teacher walked away, a look of irritation on his face.
Feeling foolish, Kurt dropped his head towards his notebook, quickly formulating a plan. He knew he should be paying attention, just in case. But Kurt was pretty sure that after that little display, the teacher wouldn’t call on him again any time soon.
With a renewed sense of focus and resolve, Kurt stepped into the hallway after class. Just like always he made his way towards his locker for a quick book change. And as he walked, Kurt kept scanning the hallway for Puck, because he always saw Puck between third and fourth period.
Normally, they would cross paths just as Puck was heading out of the history room. The only reason Kurt knew that was because it had long ago become a habit of Puck’s to shove Kurt just as they passed one another. But even though Puck had pretty much stopped doing that since joining glee club, Kurt still felt apprehensive whenever they crossed paths.
But today, Kurt was ready for that moment, was anticipating it.
And just like always, the moment Kurt walked by the history room, Puck was there. However, rather than looking like he’d just stepped through the door, Puck was standing by the wall. And if Kurt didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Puck was waiting for him.
Now, this wasn’t the first time that Puck had laid in wait for him. However, that was generally by the dumpster. And whenever Kurt got near him, he could feel the animosity rolling off of Puck.
But right then, right there…
Puck seemed relaxed and comfortable. And the sight of him lounging casually against the wall was like a balm to Kurt’s frazzled nerves.
Feeling more confident than he had the past few times he’d tried to talk to Puck, Kurt stopped in front of him. And smiling slightly, Kurt repeated his internal mantra once more before speaking. “Just breathe…”
“Hello, Puck.” Kurt’s voice was breathy, betraying the excitement that had begun to bubble in his stomach. Biting down on his lower lip, he prayed that Puck hadn’t noticed.
But unfortunately, Kurt was pretty sure that Puck had picked up on it, because his dark eyes strayed to Kurt’s lips for just a fraction of a second. The look caused Kurt’s stomach to clench as a bygone memory of their kiss came rushing back. And oddly enough, Kurt felt as if that had happened a million years ago, when in reality, it had been little over a week.
“Hummel.” Puck’s voice was low, devoid of any emotion. But in his eyes, Kurt saw acknowledgement.
And as Puck stood there, staring at him, Kurt realized that he had absolutely no clue what to say. His master plan had only extended to finding Puck after class and talking to him. Kurt hadn’t actually thought about what to say.
As the five minute passing period quickly sped by, Kurt wracked his brain for something, anything. But all that came to mind was the few times they’d touched and the text message from the night before. And neither of those things seemed appropriate for hallway chatter. Especially when Rachel or Mercedes or, Heaven forbid, Finn could come walking by.
From the look on Puck’s face, Kurt could tell that he was getting impatient. And before Kurt realized what he was going to say, his mouth was moving of its own volition.
“You umh…” Kurt paused, wondering why his mouth had chosen that moment to become dryer than the desert. “You forgot your t-shirt at my house the… the other night.” He hated to even bring up Saturday night, and from the look on Puck’s face, he hadn’t enjoyed it either.
Kurt thought about apologizing but decided against it, thinking that it would only make the situation worse. And to apologize would mean formally acknowledging, with words, what had happened. And Kurt just didn’t think that he could handle that. Not yet anyway.
He watched Puck expectantly, hoping he would say something. But he didn’t. Instead, Puck just stood there, staring down at Kurt. And when the silence between them became unbearable, Kurt realized that the other boy wasn’t going to help him out. That if Kurt wanted something to happen, he was going to have to make it happen himself.
“So, umh…” Kurt mentally kicked himself and cursed his internal mantra for failing him so spectacularly. Because at that moment, he felt anything but calm as his heart thudded painfully against his ribs and the palms of his hands began to sweat. “If you want, you can… you can come by tonight and pick it up.”
As Puck eyed him curiously, Kurt prayed that Puck wouldn’t ask him to just bring the shirt to school. Because, for some reason, it seemed crucial that Kurt see him outside of McKinley’s stone walls.
When Puck nodded, Kurt had to fight back a huge sigh of relief.
But that feeling was short lived, because the next moment, the class bell was clanging loudly through the hallway. They were both officially late for class. However, Kurt couldn’t help but feel like it was totally worth it.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
“Oh, stop whining, Elena. You’ve got both Salv-” Kurt stopped mid-sentence, his face flushing tomato red as Puck stood next to the white couch in front of the tv. “Puck. I didn’t hear…”
“Your dad let me in. He said you were down here.” Puck’s eyes flickered around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. Which Kurt found a little odd, but when he followed Puck’s gaze, Kurt realized that it looked way different than it had the night of the party. “So, uh, my shirt?”
“Oh, right.” Kurt jumped off the couch and thanked the fashion gods that he hadn’t changed when he’d gotten home from school. (Oh, he’d taken off his shoes and tie, but Kurt was still impeccably dressed.) Because, somehow, he’d managed to forget that Puck was supposed to stop by.
In retrospect, Kurt realized that he’d been ridiculously busy since school had gotten out for the day. He’d finished his homework while answering phones at his dad’s shop. Then after getting home, he’d cleaned his room, worked on his solo for Schu’s Free For All and then made dinner. And after that, he’d finally sat down to a rerun of The Vampire Diaries. Horrible and melodramatic as the show was, Kurt had yet to miss an episode.
But even though Kurt realized he’d been running ever since he left school, he could not believe that he’d managed to forget about Puck. It just seemed so impossible. So in the end, he decided to attribute the momentary lapse in memory to stress.
Because really, there was just no other explanation.
And because of that, Kurt was sock footed and scrambling to find some semblance of calm. Making his way over to his bedside table to grab the shirt, he desperately tried to come up with a plan of action. One that had more follow through than his earlier plan, because that one had left him stuttering and grasping at straws.
Because when he’d originally invited Puck over, Kurt hadn’t thought about anything beyond getting the other boy into his house. And at the time, that had been his main objective. So he’d used the pretense of returning Puck’s t-shirt, which he now regretted.
Because as the moment loomed nearer, Kurt realized just how much he didn’t want to give it back.
Since washing and folding the shirt after wearing it, Kurt had placed it on his bedside table. It fit neatly next to the lamp, photo, and tattered copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone he kept there. And he didn’t really want to give the shirt back. As silly as it was, Kurt had quickly become attached to it.
Now, he didn’t spread it out on his bed and pretend it was Puck or anything like that. Because, hello? Creepy much? But he did like having it nearby. (Make of that what you will.)
And now, Kurt had to give the shirt back.
But even though his plan had served its purpose, Kurt hadn’t thought about what would happen after he’d handed over the stray article of clothing.
“It’s… It’s right here.” Kurt picked the perfectly folded shirt off of the tiny table. As he held it out to Puck, Kurt’s mind reeled in a last minute attempt to come up with something, anything to say in an effort to keep Puck there.
Unfortunately, his mind was totally blank.
Puck reached out and took the Def Leppard shirt out of Kurt’s hand, not bothering to look at it. Instead, he stared at Kurt with such intensity that Kurt felt a deep flush burning the tips of his ears.
The look was so full of meaning that Kurt felt as if Puck was begging him for something. And even though Kurt didn’t know what the other boy was asking for, he took a deep breath and seized the moment.
Taking a tentative step forward, Kurt reached out and placed his hand on Puck’s forearm. And summoning up all of the courage he possessed, Kurt met Puck’s gaze.
When Kurt spoke, his voice was a soft whisper. “Stay with me.”
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.
- This chapter was inspired by the beautiful Pearl Jam song “Just Breathe.” You can find it here.
- To everyone who has left me a review, thank you so very much. I can’t tell you how much your support means. :duck:
- Quack: Thanks so much for all of your help. Never again will I ask you to find spots where I could elaborate. :P
- Reviews are love.
Put Me Back Together
Chapter 1: Kiss Me Goodbye
Chapter 2: Of Soirees and Sarongs
Chapter 3: Not So Subtle
Chapter 4: Late Arrivals
Chapter 5: Breaking Point
Chapter 6: Empty Hallway
Chapter 7: Cleaning up the Mess
Chapter 8: Dirty Laundry
Chapter 9: Gossip Mongers