(Put Me Back Together) Raditude (22/?)
Title: Put Me Back Together
Part: Chapter 22: Raditude
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.
- This fic won first place for “Best WIP” at glee_fic_awards! Thank you so much for all of your support!
- 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 22: Raditude
Together they rode in silence, neither acknowledging the other. It was almost as if there was a huge wall between them that kept getting thicker and thicker. And after a few minutes, the tension was so palpable that Kurt found himself desperately searching for something to talk about. However, there was nothing in the passing scenery (trees and non-descript stores) that wouldn’t sound lame.
Of course, there was always the weather, but Kurt was not about to ask Puck what he thought about the cold snap that was sure to hit Lima soon. So Kurt turned from the window and looked at the seat between them, hoping to find something of interest there.
And what he found there surprised him.
Lying on the seat next to Kurt was a CD case, and as far as he knew, Puck owned an iPod. After all, didn’t everyone own iPod’s? In fact, the only person Kurt could think of who didn’t own one was his dad. But then again, his dad still had all of his vinyl Mellencamp albums on a shelf in the living room. So as far as Kurt was concerned, his dad didn’t count.
Curious, Kurt picked up the plastic case and examined it. The front bore a picture of a large dog jumping in a living room that looked like it was chic in the 90s. And above the dog, in the left-hand corner were the words, “Weezer” and “Raditude.” When Kurt flipped the case over, he found himself staring at a picture of four men riding bikes under a bridge. Superimposed over the image was the album’s track listing.
As Kurt scanned the songs, he asked Puck, “Who buys CDs anymore?” Just as the question was out of his mouth, he noticed the name of the last song on disc one. It was “I Don’t Want To Let You Go.”
The sight of the song title caused Kurt’s heartbeat to speed up just a bit.
“When it comes to Weezer, I do.” The answer was matter of fact and so was Puck’s voice. And though Kurt wanted to know what Puck meant, he felt like he’d be prying if he asked. So rather than say anything at all, Kurt just nodded as he placed the CD back on the seat next to him.
Scared to touch anything else, Kurt folded his hands in his lap and tried to look out the window. But he couldn’t stop himself from looking over at Puck wishing that he could think of something to say. And before Kurt knew it, the truck’s cab filled with a tension so think that he swore he could taste it. But this time, it was Puck who tried to break through the unbearable silence.
Not taking his eyes off of the road, Puck reached over and flipped on the CD player. After a second, it sprang to life with a lyric Kurt recognized as one of the song titles he’d seen on Raditude. “As we’re tripping down the freeway…”
The song continued, and Kurt was surprised that he kind of liked the song’s beat (Or… that he didn’t hate it anyway.). “No way, we ain’t gonna break up. We made a -”
Puck flicked off the CD player, changing it to the radio instead. And before Kurt could object or ask what he was doing, a spunky woman’s voice came over the radio. “That was Pearl Jam. And now here’s Weezer with ‘If You’re Wondering If I Want You To’-”
Before the song could start, Puck switched off the radio with a little more force than was really necessary.
Kurt didn’t say anything, but he did look over at Puck. The other boy’s profile gave away nothing; he was staring straight ahead at the road, his face blank. And no matter how hard Kurt tried, he could discern nothing from his expression.
“We’re here.” Puck’s voice was flat, giving away nothing about how he was feeling. The truck pulled to a stop, and Puck shut off the truck’s motor. When Kurt looked out the window, he was surprised to find that they were parked at the edge of a cornfield on the outskirts of town. It had been harvested in early fall and was now nothing more than a few acres of dried out stumps and stalks. In the distance Kurt could see a few large blackbirds digging through the debris with their beaks and cawing to one another.
“Here?” The confusion was evident in Kurt’s voice, which he hated, but he just didn’t understand. Why, of all the places in Lima, had Puck driven him out to a cornfield at the edge of town? Honestly, the only thing Kurt could think of was that this field would make an excellent place to kill someone and then hide their body.
“Yeah, Hummel, here.” Puck sounded a little irritated, which only worried Kurt more.
“I… Not to sound ungrateful,” Kurt forced himself to sound as apologetic as possible. “But why did you bring me here?” He wanted to make things right with Puck, and Kurt knew that sarcasm wouldn’t help the situation. (And on the off chance that Puck had brought Kurt out there so he could kill him… Well, Kurt was pretty sure that sarcasm wouldn’t help then either.)
But Puck didn’t answer Kurt’s question. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel tensely and turned to look at Kurt. “Why’d you come with me?”
The question caught Kurt completely off guard.
After Puck’s determination to make Kurt hear him out and Kurt finally agreeing to be near him… Kurt could barely believe that Puck was asking him why. The question seemed so insecure in comparison to the bravado Puck normally displayed, and it left Kurt reeling. Oh, he’d seen Puck less than confident before, but those times were generally about Quinn and their baby. Not himself. It just seemed so impossible that Kurt could be insecure about something that related to Kurt.
It also made Kurt realize just how very important his answer was.
“I…” There were so many reasons, so many explanations, and he struggled to find the right one.
“I… I’m not ready to let you go.” Kurt’s voice was soft, but it seemed to echo through the cab.
It sounded ridiculous and cliché even to his own ears, but Kurt couldn’t help it. It was the truth in the plainest and simplest of terms.
Kurt prayed Puck would realize that he’d phrased his answer purposely, and he hoped that that would say it all.
A small, triumphant smile tugged at the corners of Puck’s mouth. And slowly, his whole body seemed to relax a little bit. It wasn’t until then that Kurt realized just how tense Puck had been. That was all Kurt needed to see to know that Puck had understood. And instantly, Kurt felt himself fill with relief.
But just as quickly as the smile appeared, it disappeared. And in its place was a look of apology. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear it, but I really am -”
Kurt held up one expertly manicured hand, and Puck stopped speaking, a dark look on his face. In an effort to reassure him, Kurt smiled tentatively. “Puck, it’s not that I don’t want to hear what I’m sure is a heartfelt and well rehearsed apology. It’s that I don’t need to hear it.”
Puck stared at him for a moment before nodding slightly. It was almost as if Kurt could see his brain trying to reconcile that possibility. “Ok.” Puck pulled the keys out of the truck’s ignition. “Ok.”
Kurt’s tentative smile became more sure. And for the first time in a few days, things felt right between them again. “So… Why are we here?”
“Come on.” With a renewed sense of confidence, Puck shoved his keys into his pockets and hopped out of the truck.
Puck slammed the door shut behind himself before he jogged over to the passenger side door. And as Kurt watched him through the windshield, he sat in his seat feeling confused. Puck had driven him out to the middle of nowhere, and they’d come to some sort of understanding and now…. Now Puck wanted him to get out of the truck. It just didn’t make sense. But before he could figure out what was going on, Puck had pulled his door open. “Well?”
“Well what?” Kurt stared down at Puck, wishing he’d shut the door. The air had grown colder - not cold enough for snow, but cold enough for a scarf. (Which, of course, Kurt didn’t have on hand.)
“Are you going to get out of the truck or not?” Puck spoke slowly and deliberately, as if speaking to a small child.
Kurt couldn’t help but roll his eyes in exasperation. They might have made up, but Kurt wasn’t about to take that kind of attitude from him. “Not if you -”
“Come on…” Puck reached up and grabbed Kurt’s elbow, giving it a gentle pull. As he did, there was a mischievous glint in his brown eyes, almost as if Puck was daring him to pull away. When Kurt didn’t, he tugged softly once again in an effort to coax Kurt out of the truck’s cab. And from the look in Puck’s eyes, Kurt knew that Puck wasn’t trying to be pushy. Instead, he was trying (trying being the key word) to be sweet.
So Kurt let the objection die on his tongue and allowed himself to be pulled out of the truck. He did, however, make sure to get out with as much skill and grace as possible, setting one foot carefully on the ground before the other. After Puck’s little barbs, he wasn’t about to appear anything less than perfect.
“See now, it’s so much easier when you just listen to me.” There was a dangerous hint of mischief in Puck’s voice, and Kurt would have to have been deaf not to notice it. In response, Kurt shot Puck a dirty look that caused him to wink impishly.
Now that he was on the ground Kurt was no longer eye level with the other boy so Kurt had to crane his neck to look up at the other boy. “Well, I’m out of the truck.” He sounded petulant, and he crossed his arms over his chest for the full affect. “Now what?”
Puck quickly took in Kurt’s stance but didn’t comment. “Climb up.”
Kurt looked at him skeptically and shifted his shoulders to reinforce his irritation. Now, it was Puck’s turn to make a show out of rolling his eyes. “Climb,” he pointed at the large front wheel of the truck. “Up,” he moved his pointing hands from the tire to the hood.
In response, Kurt’s mouth fell open slightly, but he snapped it shut before Puck could comment. He had no desire to see how Puck would react if he acted like he couldn’t do it. So Kurt clamped his jaw together and stepped towards the wheel Puck had pointed at. Very carefully, he placed his foot on the front tire and pushed up with the foot that was still on the ground.
With much less grace than he was used to having, Kurt fell onto the hood of the blue truck with a resounding thud that caused a few of the blackbirds to fly away. Hoping that Puck hadn’t noticed, Kurt pulled his legs up the rest of the way so he could situate himself against the windshield.
Underneath him, the hood of the truck was still warm, and it cut through the chill of the afternoon. Unfortunately though, the chipped blue paint was covered in a layer of dirt and grime that Kurt just knew was rubbing off on his plaid pants. In an effort to get his mind off of just how his clothes would recover from this ordeal, Kurt looked around for Puck.
After telling Kurt to “climb up,” Puck had disappeared around the bed of the truck, and Kurt only just realized that he was still back there. But from where he was seated, Kurt couldn’t tell exactly what Puck was doing. Kurt was about to call out to him when Puck came striding along the driver’s side of the truck with a red, white, and black striped blanket in hand.
“Here,” Puck tossed the blanket onto the hood of the truck so that it landed near Kurt’s knees. And in one fluid motion, he hoisted himself up with much more grace than Kurt had.
“Thank you.” Kurt leaned forward and picked up the blanket. It was made of heavy fleece and had the WMHS emblem on one of the corners. With much more care than was really necessary, Kurt unfolded the plush fabric and pulled it over his outstretched legs.
Puck grunted out a low “welcome” with a pleased look on his face. “I keep it in the truck for when my mom and sister go to games.” Puck situated himself on the hood, sliding over next to Kurt.
When Puck mentioned his mom, Kurt’s mind flashed back to the night of his party. After returning from the hospital, Puck had fallen asleep on the Kurt’s couch. And Burt had made Kurt call Puck’s mom to let her know where her son was. It had been strange calling her, but Kurt had done it. The more he thought about it, Kurt realized that that was the first time he’d ever spoken to Ms. Puckerman.
And even though he’d completely forgotten about it until now, Kurt remembered something she’d said…
“Can…” When Kurt spoke, Puck’s eyebrows lifted as if asking a question. “Can I ask you something?”
Puck looked slightly confused but shrugged anyway. “Sure.”
“I, umh…” All of a sudden, Kurt felt incredibly self-conscious. They hadn’t discussed the night Puck had stayed over. And as far as Kurt knew, Puck didn’t know about the phone conversation. “The night you fell asleep on my couch…” Kurt’s voice trailed off, the little bit of courage he’d mustered up fading away as Puck’s expression darkened. Deep down, Kurt knew that it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with what had happened that night. But Puck’s expression was unnerving nonetheless.
Kurt swallowed, wishing that his mouth hadn’t chosen that moment to go dry. “My dad had me call your mom…” Puck’s expression became unreadable, and Kurt finished lamely, “To let her know that you were alright.”
Clearly confused, Puck continued to stare at Kurt. “Ok…”
“Well, when I did, she called you something…” Kurt gestured helplessly with his hands, desperately trying to remember what word Ms. Puckerman had used. “Booba… Or, bubba… Or…”
There was a dawning look of comprehension on Puck’s face as Kurt stumbled over the word. “Bubbala?”
When Puck said bubbala, Kurt felt his tension ease just a little. It was the same word Ms. Puckerman had used, and it sounded so wonderful coming out of Puck’s mouth. “Yes. What does it mean?”
The question wasn’t even halfway out of Kurt’s mouth before Puck cringed. And instead of answering, he dropped his gaze to his lap for a second. When he lifted his head again, Puck looked embarrassed and sort of… shy. (If that was even possible.) And that only made Kurt want to know the meaning of the word more. “It’s Yiddish. It means darling.”
Darling. It was absolutely perfect. Kurt smiled softly as he thought of Puck’s mother calling him darling. “That’s nice.” Even as Kurt was thinking about Ms. Puckerman, something else occurred to him. “Wait, you speak Yiddish?”
“First of all, it’s not nice. It’s embarrassing.” Even though Puck was saying that he didn’t care for his mother’s chosen nickname, Kurt could tell that he didn’t really mean it. Not totally anyway. The denial never made its way to Puck’s eyes. And Kurt had come to learn that Puck, as good a liar as he was, could never keep the truth out of his eyes. “Secondly, yeah. A little anyway. Some Hebrew too.”
Kurt felt his eyes widen in surprise. He knew Puck was Jewish, but based on the Chinese food he’d brought over, Puck didn’t keep Kosher. And considering his reputation, Kurt didn’t exactly think that Puck was too worried about his religious studies. So to find out that he could speak Yiddish and Hebrew was pretty surprising. “Say something!”
“No.” Puck’s answer left no room for argument, but Kurt couldn’t help smiling. “I mean, I don’t really know much anymore. I forgot most of the Hebrew after my Bar Mitzvah.” He stopped for a moment as if considering something. “I do know a bunch of swear words though. Picked ‘em up from my mom. Wanna hear those?” The look on Puck’s face was positively devilish.
“No, thank you.” Kurt wrinkled up his nose in distaste, thinking that he should have known. “I think I’ll pass.”
Puck snorted, causing Kurt to roll his eyes dramatically. But rather than shutting Puck up, the over the top display only made the other boy laugh more.
And still a little unsure of himself and what was going on between them, Kurt snapped a little at Puck. “What?”
“Nothing, Hummel.” Puck’s laughter died away, but the amusement still lingered in his voice. “Absolutely nothing.”
Puck’s response stumped Kurt, and he sat there staring at the other boy, trying to think of something to say. However, absolutely nothing came to mind. So rather than sit there glaring at Puck, Kurt turned his gaze back to the field. For just a moment, he felt Puck’s eyes lingering on his face before he too turned back to the open field.
With Puck no longer looking at him, Kurt shifted a little on the hood. They hadn’t really been outside very long, but Kurt’s tailbone was starting to feel a little numb. And even though the movement was subtle, it caused him to slide a little to the side, bringing him closer to Puck. While it hadn’t been intentional on Kurt’s part, he enjoyed being closer to the other boy. So much so that he wished he could slide even closer, but Puck was staring out across the field, apparently lost in thought. And Kurt was afraid that if he moved again, Puck might run.
But when Puck turned and looked at Kurt, his brown eyes filled with so many different emotions that Kurt couldn’t have picked just one if he tried. He wanted to say something, but when Puck slid closer to him, any thoughts that he’d had melted away.
The cool air between them crackled with the electricity of a million unsaid things, and Kurt felt like he’d get zapped if he tried to add another thought. And before he could try to say anything, a cool wind tore through the field that caused Kurt to shiver.
Next to him, Puck looked over, concern on his face. And before Kurt realized what was happening, Puck leaned over and grabbed hold of the blanket. Puck’s soft brown eyes bore into Kurt’s as he pulled the heavy blanket up a little, tucking it snuggly around Kurt’s waist. For just a second, his hands lingered there, as if seeing whether or not they fit. And as he held onto Kurt’s waist, Puck never looked away, and when he blinked, it was slow and deliberate.
The question was there, in Puck’s eyes and the way he was gently holding Kurt’s waist. And every last bit of Kurt, from his trembling hands to his rapid heartbeat was screaming out, “Yes, that’s ok.” But Kurt couldn’t bring himself to say the words aloud. From fear or nerves, he didn’t know, but either way, he couldn’t speak.
Before Kurt could force himself to say something, Puck pulled his hands away. His face was unreadable, and Kurt suddenly felt cold and alone. He wanted Puck to look at him again with a smile in his eyes. And Kurt wanted Puck’s hand back around his waist again. He hated the shut down, closed off look on the other boy’s face. And desperate to get Puck to open back up, Kurt reached over and tugged softly on the elbow of Puck’s letterman jacket.
The touch was gentle, but it was enough to cause Puck to turn back towards him with curiosity in his eyes. And before Kurt could stop himself, he repeated the question that Puck had avoided earlier. “Puck, why did you bring me here?”
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 features two songs from Weezer’s Raditude: Tripping Down the Freeway and If You’re Wondering If I want You To (I Want You To). Also, you can check out the cover of Weezer’s Raditude here.
- If you have stuck by this story in any way, shape, or form…. I thank you. Your support means so much to me.
- Quack: Thank you so, so much. I appreciate all of your hard work and support more than I can say.
- P.S. I don't own an iPod. Nor do I want to. :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
Chapter 10: Just Breathe
Chapter 11: Damon Salvatore vs. Dexter Morgan
Chapter 12: Cloudy - Chance of Tension
Chapter 13: Pocket Squares
Chapter 14: All Apologies
Chapter 15: The “F” Word
Chapter 16: I’ve Come Undone
Chapter 17: Not So Blissfully Numb
Chapter 18: Drunken Lullabies
Chapter 19: Unwanted Visitor
Chapter 20: Please
Chapter 21: Free For All
Part: Chapter 22: Raditude
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.
- This fic won first place for “Best WIP” at glee_fic_awards! Thank you so much for all of your support!
- 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 22: Raditude
Together they rode in silence, neither acknowledging the other. It was almost as if there was a huge wall between them that kept getting thicker and thicker. And after a few minutes, the tension was so palpable that Kurt found himself desperately searching for something to talk about. However, there was nothing in the passing scenery (trees and non-descript stores) that wouldn’t sound lame.
Of course, there was always the weather, but Kurt was not about to ask Puck what he thought about the cold snap that was sure to hit Lima soon. So Kurt turned from the window and looked at the seat between them, hoping to find something of interest there.
And what he found there surprised him.
Lying on the seat next to Kurt was a CD case, and as far as he knew, Puck owned an iPod. After all, didn’t everyone own iPod’s? In fact, the only person Kurt could think of who didn’t own one was his dad. But then again, his dad still had all of his vinyl Mellencamp albums on a shelf in the living room. So as far as Kurt was concerned, his dad didn’t count.
Curious, Kurt picked up the plastic case and examined it. The front bore a picture of a large dog jumping in a living room that looked like it was chic in the 90s. And above the dog, in the left-hand corner were the words, “Weezer” and “Raditude.” When Kurt flipped the case over, he found himself staring at a picture of four men riding bikes under a bridge. Superimposed over the image was the album’s track listing.
As Kurt scanned the songs, he asked Puck, “Who buys CDs anymore?” Just as the question was out of his mouth, he noticed the name of the last song on disc one. It was “I Don’t Want To Let You Go.”
The sight of the song title caused Kurt’s heartbeat to speed up just a bit.
“When it comes to Weezer, I do.” The answer was matter of fact and so was Puck’s voice. And though Kurt wanted to know what Puck meant, he felt like he’d be prying if he asked. So rather than say anything at all, Kurt just nodded as he placed the CD back on the seat next to him.
Scared to touch anything else, Kurt folded his hands in his lap and tried to look out the window. But he couldn’t stop himself from looking over at Puck wishing that he could think of something to say. And before Kurt knew it, the truck’s cab filled with a tension so think that he swore he could taste it. But this time, it was Puck who tried to break through the unbearable silence.
Not taking his eyes off of the road, Puck reached over and flipped on the CD player. After a second, it sprang to life with a lyric Kurt recognized as one of the song titles he’d seen on Raditude. “As we’re tripping down the freeway…”
The song continued, and Kurt was surprised that he kind of liked the song’s beat (Or… that he didn’t hate it anyway.). “No way, we ain’t gonna break up. We made a -”
Puck flicked off the CD player, changing it to the radio instead. And before Kurt could object or ask what he was doing, a spunky woman’s voice came over the radio. “That was Pearl Jam. And now here’s Weezer with ‘If You’re Wondering If I Want You To’-”
Before the song could start, Puck switched off the radio with a little more force than was really necessary.
Kurt didn’t say anything, but he did look over at Puck. The other boy’s profile gave away nothing; he was staring straight ahead at the road, his face blank. And no matter how hard Kurt tried, he could discern nothing from his expression.
“We’re here.” Puck’s voice was flat, giving away nothing about how he was feeling. The truck pulled to a stop, and Puck shut off the truck’s motor. When Kurt looked out the window, he was surprised to find that they were parked at the edge of a cornfield on the outskirts of town. It had been harvested in early fall and was now nothing more than a few acres of dried out stumps and stalks. In the distance Kurt could see a few large blackbirds digging through the debris with their beaks and cawing to one another.
“Here?” The confusion was evident in Kurt’s voice, which he hated, but he just didn’t understand. Why, of all the places in Lima, had Puck driven him out to a cornfield at the edge of town? Honestly, the only thing Kurt could think of was that this field would make an excellent place to kill someone and then hide their body.
“Yeah, Hummel, here.” Puck sounded a little irritated, which only worried Kurt more.
“I… Not to sound ungrateful,” Kurt forced himself to sound as apologetic as possible. “But why did you bring me here?” He wanted to make things right with Puck, and Kurt knew that sarcasm wouldn’t help the situation. (And on the off chance that Puck had brought Kurt out there so he could kill him… Well, Kurt was pretty sure that sarcasm wouldn’t help then either.)
But Puck didn’t answer Kurt’s question. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel tensely and turned to look at Kurt. “Why’d you come with me?”
The question caught Kurt completely off guard.
After Puck’s determination to make Kurt hear him out and Kurt finally agreeing to be near him… Kurt could barely believe that Puck was asking him why. The question seemed so insecure in comparison to the bravado Puck normally displayed, and it left Kurt reeling. Oh, he’d seen Puck less than confident before, but those times were generally about Quinn and their baby. Not himself. It just seemed so impossible that Kurt could be insecure about something that related to Kurt.
It also made Kurt realize just how very important his answer was.
“I…” There were so many reasons, so many explanations, and he struggled to find the right one.
“I… I’m not ready to let you go.” Kurt’s voice was soft, but it seemed to echo through the cab.
It sounded ridiculous and cliché even to his own ears, but Kurt couldn’t help it. It was the truth in the plainest and simplest of terms.
Kurt prayed Puck would realize that he’d phrased his answer purposely, and he hoped that that would say it all.
A small, triumphant smile tugged at the corners of Puck’s mouth. And slowly, his whole body seemed to relax a little bit. It wasn’t until then that Kurt realized just how tense Puck had been. That was all Kurt needed to see to know that Puck had understood. And instantly, Kurt felt himself fill with relief.
But just as quickly as the smile appeared, it disappeared. And in its place was a look of apology. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear it, but I really am -”
Kurt held up one expertly manicured hand, and Puck stopped speaking, a dark look on his face. In an effort to reassure him, Kurt smiled tentatively. “Puck, it’s not that I don’t want to hear what I’m sure is a heartfelt and well rehearsed apology. It’s that I don’t need to hear it.”
Puck stared at him for a moment before nodding slightly. It was almost as if Kurt could see his brain trying to reconcile that possibility. “Ok.” Puck pulled the keys out of the truck’s ignition. “Ok.”
Kurt’s tentative smile became more sure. And for the first time in a few days, things felt right between them again. “So… Why are we here?”
“Come on.” With a renewed sense of confidence, Puck shoved his keys into his pockets and hopped out of the truck.
Puck slammed the door shut behind himself before he jogged over to the passenger side door. And as Kurt watched him through the windshield, he sat in his seat feeling confused. Puck had driven him out to the middle of nowhere, and they’d come to some sort of understanding and now…. Now Puck wanted him to get out of the truck. It just didn’t make sense. But before he could figure out what was going on, Puck had pulled his door open. “Well?”
“Well what?” Kurt stared down at Puck, wishing he’d shut the door. The air had grown colder - not cold enough for snow, but cold enough for a scarf. (Which, of course, Kurt didn’t have on hand.)
“Are you going to get out of the truck or not?” Puck spoke slowly and deliberately, as if speaking to a small child.
Kurt couldn’t help but roll his eyes in exasperation. They might have made up, but Kurt wasn’t about to take that kind of attitude from him. “Not if you -”
“Come on…” Puck reached up and grabbed Kurt’s elbow, giving it a gentle pull. As he did, there was a mischievous glint in his brown eyes, almost as if Puck was daring him to pull away. When Kurt didn’t, he tugged softly once again in an effort to coax Kurt out of the truck’s cab. And from the look in Puck’s eyes, Kurt knew that Puck wasn’t trying to be pushy. Instead, he was trying (trying being the key word) to be sweet.
So Kurt let the objection die on his tongue and allowed himself to be pulled out of the truck. He did, however, make sure to get out with as much skill and grace as possible, setting one foot carefully on the ground before the other. After Puck’s little barbs, he wasn’t about to appear anything less than perfect.
“See now, it’s so much easier when you just listen to me.” There was a dangerous hint of mischief in Puck’s voice, and Kurt would have to have been deaf not to notice it. In response, Kurt shot Puck a dirty look that caused him to wink impishly.
Now that he was on the ground Kurt was no longer eye level with the other boy so Kurt had to crane his neck to look up at the other boy. “Well, I’m out of the truck.” He sounded petulant, and he crossed his arms over his chest for the full affect. “Now what?”
Puck quickly took in Kurt’s stance but didn’t comment. “Climb up.”
Kurt looked at him skeptically and shifted his shoulders to reinforce his irritation. Now, it was Puck’s turn to make a show out of rolling his eyes. “Climb,” he pointed at the large front wheel of the truck. “Up,” he moved his pointing hands from the tire to the hood.
In response, Kurt’s mouth fell open slightly, but he snapped it shut before Puck could comment. He had no desire to see how Puck would react if he acted like he couldn’t do it. So Kurt clamped his jaw together and stepped towards the wheel Puck had pointed at. Very carefully, he placed his foot on the front tire and pushed up with the foot that was still on the ground.
With much less grace than he was used to having, Kurt fell onto the hood of the blue truck with a resounding thud that caused a few of the blackbirds to fly away. Hoping that Puck hadn’t noticed, Kurt pulled his legs up the rest of the way so he could situate himself against the windshield.
Underneath him, the hood of the truck was still warm, and it cut through the chill of the afternoon. Unfortunately though, the chipped blue paint was covered in a layer of dirt and grime that Kurt just knew was rubbing off on his plaid pants. In an effort to get his mind off of just how his clothes would recover from this ordeal, Kurt looked around for Puck.
After telling Kurt to “climb up,” Puck had disappeared around the bed of the truck, and Kurt only just realized that he was still back there. But from where he was seated, Kurt couldn’t tell exactly what Puck was doing. Kurt was about to call out to him when Puck came striding along the driver’s side of the truck with a red, white, and black striped blanket in hand.
“Here,” Puck tossed the blanket onto the hood of the truck so that it landed near Kurt’s knees. And in one fluid motion, he hoisted himself up with much more grace than Kurt had.
“Thank you.” Kurt leaned forward and picked up the blanket. It was made of heavy fleece and had the WMHS emblem on one of the corners. With much more care than was really necessary, Kurt unfolded the plush fabric and pulled it over his outstretched legs.
Puck grunted out a low “welcome” with a pleased look on his face. “I keep it in the truck for when my mom and sister go to games.” Puck situated himself on the hood, sliding over next to Kurt.
When Puck mentioned his mom, Kurt’s mind flashed back to the night of his party. After returning from the hospital, Puck had fallen asleep on the Kurt’s couch. And Burt had made Kurt call Puck’s mom to let her know where her son was. It had been strange calling her, but Kurt had done it. The more he thought about it, Kurt realized that that was the first time he’d ever spoken to Ms. Puckerman.
And even though he’d completely forgotten about it until now, Kurt remembered something she’d said…
“Can…” When Kurt spoke, Puck’s eyebrows lifted as if asking a question. “Can I ask you something?”
Puck looked slightly confused but shrugged anyway. “Sure.”
“I, umh…” All of a sudden, Kurt felt incredibly self-conscious. They hadn’t discussed the night Puck had stayed over. And as far as Kurt knew, Puck didn’t know about the phone conversation. “The night you fell asleep on my couch…” Kurt’s voice trailed off, the little bit of courage he’d mustered up fading away as Puck’s expression darkened. Deep down, Kurt knew that it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with what had happened that night. But Puck’s expression was unnerving nonetheless.
Kurt swallowed, wishing that his mouth hadn’t chosen that moment to go dry. “My dad had me call your mom…” Puck’s expression became unreadable, and Kurt finished lamely, “To let her know that you were alright.”
Clearly confused, Puck continued to stare at Kurt. “Ok…”
“Well, when I did, she called you something…” Kurt gestured helplessly with his hands, desperately trying to remember what word Ms. Puckerman had used. “Booba… Or, bubba… Or…”
There was a dawning look of comprehension on Puck’s face as Kurt stumbled over the word. “Bubbala?”
When Puck said bubbala, Kurt felt his tension ease just a little. It was the same word Ms. Puckerman had used, and it sounded so wonderful coming out of Puck’s mouth. “Yes. What does it mean?”
The question wasn’t even halfway out of Kurt’s mouth before Puck cringed. And instead of answering, he dropped his gaze to his lap for a second. When he lifted his head again, Puck looked embarrassed and sort of… shy. (If that was even possible.) And that only made Kurt want to know the meaning of the word more. “It’s Yiddish. It means darling.”
Darling. It was absolutely perfect. Kurt smiled softly as he thought of Puck’s mother calling him darling. “That’s nice.” Even as Kurt was thinking about Ms. Puckerman, something else occurred to him. “Wait, you speak Yiddish?”
“First of all, it’s not nice. It’s embarrassing.” Even though Puck was saying that he didn’t care for his mother’s chosen nickname, Kurt could tell that he didn’t really mean it. Not totally anyway. The denial never made its way to Puck’s eyes. And Kurt had come to learn that Puck, as good a liar as he was, could never keep the truth out of his eyes. “Secondly, yeah. A little anyway. Some Hebrew too.”
Kurt felt his eyes widen in surprise. He knew Puck was Jewish, but based on the Chinese food he’d brought over, Puck didn’t keep Kosher. And considering his reputation, Kurt didn’t exactly think that Puck was too worried about his religious studies. So to find out that he could speak Yiddish and Hebrew was pretty surprising. “Say something!”
“No.” Puck’s answer left no room for argument, but Kurt couldn’t help smiling. “I mean, I don’t really know much anymore. I forgot most of the Hebrew after my Bar Mitzvah.” He stopped for a moment as if considering something. “I do know a bunch of swear words though. Picked ‘em up from my mom. Wanna hear those?” The look on Puck’s face was positively devilish.
“No, thank you.” Kurt wrinkled up his nose in distaste, thinking that he should have known. “I think I’ll pass.”
Puck snorted, causing Kurt to roll his eyes dramatically. But rather than shutting Puck up, the over the top display only made the other boy laugh more.
And still a little unsure of himself and what was going on between them, Kurt snapped a little at Puck. “What?”
“Nothing, Hummel.” Puck’s laughter died away, but the amusement still lingered in his voice. “Absolutely nothing.”
Puck’s response stumped Kurt, and he sat there staring at the other boy, trying to think of something to say. However, absolutely nothing came to mind. So rather than sit there glaring at Puck, Kurt turned his gaze back to the field. For just a moment, he felt Puck’s eyes lingering on his face before he too turned back to the open field.
With Puck no longer looking at him, Kurt shifted a little on the hood. They hadn’t really been outside very long, but Kurt’s tailbone was starting to feel a little numb. And even though the movement was subtle, it caused him to slide a little to the side, bringing him closer to Puck. While it hadn’t been intentional on Kurt’s part, he enjoyed being closer to the other boy. So much so that he wished he could slide even closer, but Puck was staring out across the field, apparently lost in thought. And Kurt was afraid that if he moved again, Puck might run.
But when Puck turned and looked at Kurt, his brown eyes filled with so many different emotions that Kurt couldn’t have picked just one if he tried. He wanted to say something, but when Puck slid closer to him, any thoughts that he’d had melted away.
The cool air between them crackled with the electricity of a million unsaid things, and Kurt felt like he’d get zapped if he tried to add another thought. And before he could try to say anything, a cool wind tore through the field that caused Kurt to shiver.
Next to him, Puck looked over, concern on his face. And before Kurt realized what was happening, Puck leaned over and grabbed hold of the blanket. Puck’s soft brown eyes bore into Kurt’s as he pulled the heavy blanket up a little, tucking it snuggly around Kurt’s waist. For just a second, his hands lingered there, as if seeing whether or not they fit. And as he held onto Kurt’s waist, Puck never looked away, and when he blinked, it was slow and deliberate.
The question was there, in Puck’s eyes and the way he was gently holding Kurt’s waist. And every last bit of Kurt, from his trembling hands to his rapid heartbeat was screaming out, “Yes, that’s ok.” But Kurt couldn’t bring himself to say the words aloud. From fear or nerves, he didn’t know, but either way, he couldn’t speak.
Before Kurt could force himself to say something, Puck pulled his hands away. His face was unreadable, and Kurt suddenly felt cold and alone. He wanted Puck to look at him again with a smile in his eyes. And Kurt wanted Puck’s hand back around his waist again. He hated the shut down, closed off look on the other boy’s face. And desperate to get Puck to open back up, Kurt reached over and tugged softly on the elbow of Puck’s letterman jacket.
The touch was gentle, but it was enough to cause Puck to turn back towards him with curiosity in his eyes. And before Kurt could stop himself, he repeated the question that Puck had avoided earlier. “Puck, why did you bring me here?”
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 features two songs from Weezer’s Raditude: Tripping Down the Freeway and If You’re Wondering If I want You To (I Want You To). Also, you can check out the cover of Weezer’s Raditude here.
- If you have stuck by this story in any way, shape, or form…. I thank you. Your support means so much to me.
- Quack: Thank you so, so much. I appreciate all of your hard work and support more than I can say.
- P.S. I don't own an iPod. Nor do I want to. :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
Chapter 10: Just Breathe
Chapter 11: Damon Salvatore vs. Dexter Morgan
Chapter 12: Cloudy - Chance of Tension
Chapter 13: Pocket Squares
Chapter 14: All Apologies
Chapter 15: The “F” Word
Chapter 16: I’ve Come Undone
Chapter 17: Not So Blissfully Numb
Chapter 18: Drunken Lullabies
Chapter 19: Unwanted Visitor
Chapter 20: Please
Chapter 21: Free For All