Fic: Bedshaped (Kurt/Puck)
TITLE: Bedshaped
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Kurt chuckled nervously. “I’ve never had someone else in my bed before.” Puck turned his head, looking at him doubtfully in the moonlight that streamed through the window. “Never?” -- sleepovers, accidental cuddling & morning erections.
FANDOM: Glee (Kurt/Puck)
STATUS: Complete - One Shot
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. This story is a work of fiction and came from the deepest, darkest, corner of my imagination.
AUTHORS NOTE: Written for challenge 5, prompt 2 @ writerverse. Also written for Day 16 @ adventchallenge
***
“Are you sure this is okay?” Puck asked for the millionth time.
“Puck, it’s fine,” Kurt assured him. “More than fine actually. Mi casa es su casa.”
“I just feel like I’m intruding-”
“You’re not intruding unless you say that you’re intruding, so stop.” Kurt pulled the blankets back from the bed and slipped under the covers. He settled down against the pillows and pulled the blankets up to where he liked them. Once he was comfortable, he looked over to see Puck still standing at the end of the bed, looking more than a little ridiculous in one of Burt’s old jumpers.
“I don’t bite,” Kurt assured him.
Puck didn’t move.
Kurt bit his lip. “Look, if this is going to be awkward...”
“No,” Puck said quickly. “It’s not you, it’s just-” he sighed and finally moved pulling back the covers on his side of the bed. “Thanks for letting me stay, Hummel.”
“No problem.”
The bed dipped and Kurt shifted a little closer to his side of the bed. It was strange, he’d never had another boy in his bed before. Hell, he’d never had anyone, boy or girl in his bed before. He didn’t think that it would make him feel so self conscious. He was suddenly very aware of Puck; every shift against the mattress, every breath, the way he laid less than a foot away... It took Kurt a moment to realise that his body was tense. He flicked off the light, throwing the room into darkness and let out a breath, forcing himself to relax.
He chuckled nervously. “I’ve never had someone else in my bed before.”
Puck turned his head, looking at him doubtfully in the moonlight that streamed through the window. “Never?”
“Never.”
“Not even a girl?”
Kurt looked at him bewildered.
“Well, I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to bat for the other team before you decide you like guys?”
“I don’t know,” Kurt answered innocently. “Did you make-out with a whole bunch of guys before you decided that you like girls?”
“No.”
“Well then don’t assume that I did.”
Puck dropped the subject and shifted uncomfortably, shoving one of the blankets off.
“Hey!” Kurt cut in. “What are you doing?”
“It’s hot under here, man. You have enough blankets to roast a turkey, and it just so happens that I’m the turkey.”
“It gets cold at night,” Kurt argued, sitting up and grabbing the blanket before Puck could kick it off any further. “I need this.”
“If you’re cold,” Puck complained, sitting up and pulling off his jumper, “then you should shut the window. It’s the middle of winter, it’s snowing outside, and you have the window open, and the fan going. What is wrong with you?”
“I like it,” Kurt defended. “That’s the best thing about winter; when you can pile four or five blankets onto your bed and snuggle down into them like a blanket cocoon.”
“It’s unnatural.”
“It’s cosy. And don’t complain. You’re the one who showed up on my doorstep after being kicked out of home.”
Puck fell silent.
Kurt bit his lip. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise for the truth.” Puck rolled over onto his stomach. “Night, Hummel.”
“Goodnight.”
*
Kurt was dying. Flopping onto his back, he kicked off one of the blankets and pulled off his jumper. Really, it was no wonder he was overheating - he was sharing a bed with Puck; snuggled down under his winter-weight blanket and quilt, he was emitting enough thermo-nuclear rays to launch a weapon of mass destruction.
“Geeze,” Kurt grumbled, pushing off a couple more blankets until just the sheet covered them. He slumped onto his back and pushed his sweaty hair off forehead. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had woken in a sweat. It was not a fun way to wake up. Rolling over, Kurt sprawled out like a starfish, ignoring the way his foot brushed Puck’s leg. It was far to hot to care.
*
The first thing Kurt noticed as he drifted into consciousness the next morning was that he was warm. Not uncomfortably warm, like when he had been when he woke in the middle of the night, but pleasantly warm, like he would have been if he were alone in bed. The second thing he noticed, was there was something warm puffing across his face. The third thing he noticed, as his brain ever so slowly began to wake, was something heavy draped over his waist and legs. The fourth thing he noticed wrenched Kurt into the world of consciousness.
Was that-?
Kurt swallowed and opened his eyes. For a second he thought there was something wrong- why couldn’t he see? He moved his head back, and slowly, Puck’s face came into clearer focus. Had they been sleeping barely an inch apart? Kurt gaped at Puck’s peaceful sleeping face.
Weird.
Sometime during the night they must have shifted closer to one another, because now they were literally tangled up in each other. Kurt stared at his fist in amazement, it was clenched in Puck’s t-shirt. He slowly detangled his fingers and clutched the offending hand to his chest. But that wasn’t all - the heavy presence over his waist, was Puck’s arm. The heavy weight over his legs, was their legs dangled together. Even worse than that, and ten times more humiliating- Kurt had a morning erection.
To make things a hundred times worse...
... so did Puck.
Kurt squeezed his eyes closed. He gave himself twenty seconds to enjoy the warmth and security of Puck’s arms before he slowly began to detangle himself.
He was almost free, when a still half-asleep Puck grumbled. “What are you doing?”
“You’re really hot,” Kurt complained, hoping that his voice wasn’t shaking as much as his hands were. “Like temperature hot. And when you go to sleep, you get hotter and hotter and you drape yourself all over me and I feel like I’m being boiled alive. Like a lobster.”
Puck’s opened his eyes sleepily and caught Kurt’s. “Are you accusing me of being a snuggler?”
“I’m accusing you, of denying me my right to snuggle in my blanket cocoon.”
“Who needs a blanket cocoon?” Puck yawned, rolling on his back. “I am a way better blanket.”
Kurt couldn’t argue about that.
END
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Kurt chuckled nervously. “I’ve never had someone else in my bed before.” Puck turned his head, looking at him doubtfully in the moonlight that streamed through the window. “Never?” -- sleepovers, accidental cuddling & morning erections.
FANDOM: Glee (Kurt/Puck)
STATUS: Complete - One Shot
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. This story is a work of fiction and came from the deepest, darkest, corner of my imagination.
AUTHORS NOTE: Written for challenge 5, prompt 2 @ writerverse. Also written for Day 16 @ adventchallenge
***
“Are you sure this is okay?” Puck asked for the millionth time.
“Puck, it’s fine,” Kurt assured him. “More than fine actually. Mi casa es su casa.”
“I just feel like I’m intruding-”
“You’re not intruding unless you say that you’re intruding, so stop.” Kurt pulled the blankets back from the bed and slipped under the covers. He settled down against the pillows and pulled the blankets up to where he liked them. Once he was comfortable, he looked over to see Puck still standing at the end of the bed, looking more than a little ridiculous in one of Burt’s old jumpers.
“I don’t bite,” Kurt assured him.
Puck didn’t move.
Kurt bit his lip. “Look, if this is going to be awkward...”
“No,” Puck said quickly. “It’s not you, it’s just-” he sighed and finally moved pulling back the covers on his side of the bed. “Thanks for letting me stay, Hummel.”
“No problem.”
The bed dipped and Kurt shifted a little closer to his side of the bed. It was strange, he’d never had another boy in his bed before. Hell, he’d never had anyone, boy or girl in his bed before. He didn’t think that it would make him feel so self conscious. He was suddenly very aware of Puck; every shift against the mattress, every breath, the way he laid less than a foot away... It took Kurt a moment to realise that his body was tense. He flicked off the light, throwing the room into darkness and let out a breath, forcing himself to relax.
He chuckled nervously. “I’ve never had someone else in my bed before.”
Puck turned his head, looking at him doubtfully in the moonlight that streamed through the window. “Never?”
“Never.”
“Not even a girl?”
Kurt looked at him bewildered.
“Well, I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to bat for the other team before you decide you like guys?”
“I don’t know,” Kurt answered innocently. “Did you make-out with a whole bunch of guys before you decided that you like girls?”
“No.”
“Well then don’t assume that I did.”
Puck dropped the subject and shifted uncomfortably, shoving one of the blankets off.
“Hey!” Kurt cut in. “What are you doing?”
“It’s hot under here, man. You have enough blankets to roast a turkey, and it just so happens that I’m the turkey.”
“It gets cold at night,” Kurt argued, sitting up and grabbing the blanket before Puck could kick it off any further. “I need this.”
“If you’re cold,” Puck complained, sitting up and pulling off his jumper, “then you should shut the window. It’s the middle of winter, it’s snowing outside, and you have the window open, and the fan going. What is wrong with you?”
“I like it,” Kurt defended. “That’s the best thing about winter; when you can pile four or five blankets onto your bed and snuggle down into them like a blanket cocoon.”
“It’s unnatural.”
“It’s cosy. And don’t complain. You’re the one who showed up on my doorstep after being kicked out of home.”
Puck fell silent.
Kurt bit his lip. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise for the truth.” Puck rolled over onto his stomach. “Night, Hummel.”
“Goodnight.”
*
Kurt was dying. Flopping onto his back, he kicked off one of the blankets and pulled off his jumper. Really, it was no wonder he was overheating - he was sharing a bed with Puck; snuggled down under his winter-weight blanket and quilt, he was emitting enough thermo-nuclear rays to launch a weapon of mass destruction.
“Geeze,” Kurt grumbled, pushing off a couple more blankets until just the sheet covered them. He slumped onto his back and pushed his sweaty hair off forehead. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had woken in a sweat. It was not a fun way to wake up. Rolling over, Kurt sprawled out like a starfish, ignoring the way his foot brushed Puck’s leg. It was far to hot to care.
*
The first thing Kurt noticed as he drifted into consciousness the next morning was that he was warm. Not uncomfortably warm, like when he had been when he woke in the middle of the night, but pleasantly warm, like he would have been if he were alone in bed. The second thing he noticed, was there was something warm puffing across his face. The third thing he noticed, as his brain ever so slowly began to wake, was something heavy draped over his waist and legs. The fourth thing he noticed wrenched Kurt into the world of consciousness.
Was that-?
Kurt swallowed and opened his eyes. For a second he thought there was something wrong- why couldn’t he see? He moved his head back, and slowly, Puck’s face came into clearer focus. Had they been sleeping barely an inch apart? Kurt gaped at Puck’s peaceful sleeping face.
Weird.
Sometime during the night they must have shifted closer to one another, because now they were literally tangled up in each other. Kurt stared at his fist in amazement, it was clenched in Puck’s t-shirt. He slowly detangled his fingers and clutched the offending hand to his chest. But that wasn’t all - the heavy presence over his waist, was Puck’s arm. The heavy weight over his legs, was their legs dangled together. Even worse than that, and ten times more humiliating- Kurt had a morning erection.
To make things a hundred times worse...
... so did Puck.
Kurt squeezed his eyes closed. He gave himself twenty seconds to enjoy the warmth and security of Puck’s arms before he slowly began to detangle himself.
He was almost free, when a still half-asleep Puck grumbled. “What are you doing?”
“You’re really hot,” Kurt complained, hoping that his voice wasn’t shaking as much as his hands were. “Like temperature hot. And when you go to sleep, you get hotter and hotter and you drape yourself all over me and I feel like I’m being boiled alive. Like a lobster.”
Puck’s opened his eyes sleepily and caught Kurt’s. “Are you accusing me of being a snuggler?”
“I’m accusing you, of denying me my right to snuggle in my blanket cocoon.”
“Who needs a blanket cocoon?” Puck yawned, rolling on his back. “I am a way better blanket.”
Kurt couldn’t argue about that.
END