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[imastud_dude]

Puck didn't know a damn thing about interior decorating.

Like, at all. He'd come back to the hut one day and everything was different. Kurt had called it minimalism, and had said something about Asian-influences, but all Puck saw was a lot of bamboo and green. Everything was neat and put away, and the place actually looked bigger somehow, and he

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[highf]

Kurt had no illusions about how difficult he probably was to live with as a roommate. The only person who had, over the years, spent a significant portion of his life sharing a room with Kurt was his own father, and from the moment Kurt had felt comfortable being on his own again, the moment he was no longer gripped by a consuming fear of losing his parent upon turning his gaze away, he'd asked for his own room. A room was meant to be a safe haven, a place where one could easily settle into their own peace of mind, without the need to be considerate on anyone else's behalf. Sure, he'd once entertained the notion of rooming being a deep, bonding experience, and had been excited at the possibility of Finn sharing his room, but that was an illusion that quickly dissipated, soon as the fights began

[imastud_dude]

Catching the ball, Puck turned toward the sound of Kurt's voice. He snorted out a laugh and rolled his eyes and tried not to think about Finn Hudson's dumb Frankenteen face. Or any of the rest of his boys.

"Dude, being just a little better at something than Finn? Isn't saying a whole lot. I love the guy, but you've met him. He's frickin' hopeless."

He hadn't been any better at handling the decline of his reputation than he'd been at math class. Finn was always kind of lost. Not to say that Puck hadn't wasted a huge amount of his high school career giving a crap about his reputation, but Finn had never learned that some of the coolest people you'd ever know were usually also the weirdest.

"I know it's not like, ideal or whatever, but I'd kind of never lived alone, and the hut was quiet as hell before you moved in. I mean, half the time I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but I don't think either of us want to strangle eachother yet, so I'm counting that as a win."

[highf]

"No argument here," Kurt conceded, quickly raising his hand to give a flippant wave. He had no desire to chain Puck down, and half the time, Kurt only spoke and babbled as a result of having an audience there to listen at all- it was a nice change from all the years that he'd spent at somewhat a distance from his father, their interests too divergent, the older man's discomfort having persisted in those early teenage years and driving somewhat of a fork between the pair. Granted, Kurt had the suspicion that Puck wasn't any better at understanding what Kurt had to say, but there was also very little that seemed to faze Puck when it came to other people. (He'd been quicker, in his own way, at accepting Kurt and the others than Finn had ever been.) "Or, well, no- as his brother-in-law, I feel compelled to protest a little on Finn's behalf. He has his strong points. Being calm in the face of difficulties is just... not one of them

[imastud_dude]

"You better not be saying I need a makeover, Hummel, 'cause I look awesome," he said with a smug grin, biting back a laugh at how uncomfortable Kurt looked, perched on that log like he was afraid of getting his clothes dirty. But it wasn't the same kind of laughter that it would've been a year or so ago. It was just funny, seeing him so far out of his element.

"I'm cool with the hut needing work, but there's like, a science to looking this good," he added, motioning down to himself, and he was sweat stained from the walk out there, but that had always been part of the look. Ladies loved that kind of crap.

[highf]

"Yes, well, while that science may be no more involved for a high school audience than donning a letterman jacket or a little Axe post-locker room, let me assure you that the people here aren't like your standard high school audience," Kurt reminded Puck with a tilt of his head, lips pressed together knowingly. With a soft huff of an exhale- and no small amount of persuasion laced in his voice- Kurt brushed nonexistent dust off his sleeve, a corner of his lips raised. There was a chance that Puck wouldn't fall for it, of course.

But if New York was already a prospect so distant to the both of them, how else were they supposed to feel on Tabula Rasa but overwhelmed?

"And, if you really intend on moving forward with that speed-dating gig, you should probably find yourself a little more than a wifebeater." He paused. "Maybe trim the hair a bit, too."

[imastud_dude]

Rubbing a hand over his hair with a frown, he looked down at himself, sweaty t-shirt and shorts and muddy sneakers. So, yeah, he could definitely clean up better than this. He didn't even mind it all that much when he'd had to put on a monkey suit for glee. He was also well aware that the ladies on the island seemed to be a hell of a lot more picky when it came to men. Most island women had a level of sophistication he just had no experience with.

Still, one thing wasn't sitting right... "What's wrong with Axe, dude?" he said with a confused frown.

[highf]

"It's very high school," Kurt replied immediately off the bat, eyes wide and shoulders shrugging to emphasize his point, one that he thought should have been obvious- but then, it always was to everyone other than the almost determinedly ignorant few who clung to the easy and the widely marketed, because something popular couldn't be too amiss. "A can of cheap cologne to pass around the locker room in lieu of a shower, it screams high school stereotype. And, frankly, Axe being more of a deodorant than a cologne, the main point of it is to mask unsavory smells, rather than being something that attracts other people. It's like being bowled over by the smell of a new car. Or sour, fruity chocolate."

After a pause, he looked up again, eyes narrowed in consideration. "We'll find you something better."