|Everyone's a Composer
Author: Tiniwiel PM
A series of PucKurt vignettes inspired by various songs. Spoilers for every episode so far. Slash.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Kurt H. & Puck - Words: 5,103 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 2 - Published: 05-18-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5980385
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Welcome to my first Glee fic ever! I originally started this as that meme that everyone has tried at least once; the one where you put your music on shuffle and write vignettes during the song. I ended up writing some while listening to the song and others were just inspired by them, thus the varying lengths. Some of them I really love, others not as much. But I'm proud nonetheless. I was too impatient to send it to a beta, so please excuse any and all mistakes! Also, spoilers for everything, just to be safe.
Disclaimer: "Glee" and all its characters belong to Fox and Ryan Murphy.
It Ain't Necessarily So – from "Porgy and Bess" by Gershwin, cover by Jamie Cullum
Kurt walked into the choir room late, so it wasn't a surprise to him to see the rest of the group circled together in an impromptu jam session before the practice started. The song choice and the singer, however, were what made the singer stop in his tracks. Sitting in a chair, tapping a beat out on the guitar rather than playing it, sat Puck with his eyes closed, completely immersed in the song oozing from his lips.
Kurt recognized immediately, it was his favorite song from that particular musical but he never told anyone and he highly doubted anyone other than Rachel had ever heard of it, so it was strange to hear the jock singing it. And yet it fitted his range perfectly and while Kurt enjoyed the original, he had never heard it sound quite so smooth and, he hated to admit, sexy. Puck's deep vocals added a tension to the song that made the younger boy's heart race.
Suddenly, when Mike took his piano solo, Puck's eyes snapped open and locked onto Kurt, as though the football player had known he had been staring all along. Kurt gasped and rather than the smirk he expected, Puck simply kept his gaze intense and steady. Kurt felt rooted to the floor, unable to move, unable to react, only knowing that underneath the shock he enjoyed the sensation of Puck's gaze on him.
"Okay everyone!" Mr. Shue shouted, breaking the tension and abruptly ending the song, "take your seats." He clapped Kurt on the shoulder, causing the young man to jump before heading to sit next to Mercedes. Though he never turned to look, Kurt could feel Puck's gaze on him the rest of the practice and he was torn between basking in this new source of attention and being disappointed that said source was probably the straightest guy in Glee, and that included both Finn and Jesse.
When Kurt walked to his car after practice, he spotted a mohawked figure leaning against the hood of his SUV, and heard Puck's voice serenading him in his head.
It ain't necessarily so…
Last Name – Glee cover
Kurt surfaced to consciousness slowly and unwillingly because after all, who went to their own torture with a smile on his face? Yet wake he did as an unrelenting screeching sound assaulted his ears, a cross between a thousand nails on a chalkboard and a hundred Rachel Berrys singing her highest note as loudly as possible. The floodlight someone shone in his eyes didn't help matters, nor did the sock they stuffed in his mouth.
Kurt groaned, the sound reverberating in his skull, adding to the sensory torture and making his internal pleads for death even more insistent. Finally he left the realm of sleep completely and realized the cacophony of sound was really the air conditioner kicking on and the unbearable light was the sunrise filtering softly through closed curtains. Though a fog stubbornly remained on most of the past 24 hours, the more Kurt thought about it the more he remembered the shots of tequila he did off someone's very muscular and tanned body, explaining the fuzziness in his mouth.
Stretching his fingers, Kurt willed the last of the aches from a deep and dreamless alcohol-induced sleep to evaporate just as his brain registered that his fingers weren't brushing hotel bed sheets but something solid and smooth. When Kurt's brain couldn't name said sensation he very slowly and reluctantly cracked open one eye to focus on the back of someone's neck. He opened his other eye and they focused further and eventually registered the shaved head attached to said neck. The shaved head that ten years prior sported a rather ridiculous mohawk.
Kurt's body jerked away on instinct and then immediately froze, willing the other man to not wake up, which he luckily obeyed. Slowly Kurt untangled his limbs and tiptoed into the bathroom where he sat on the edge of the bathtub and promptly began to (quietly) freak out.
Noah Puckerman was in his bed. Noah freaking Puckerman was in his bed. Noah Freaking Puckerman was in his bed, naked and (he hoped) very sexually satisfied. Current predicament aside, Kurt would like to think he was good in bed.
Taking a deep breath Kurt re-focused his thoughts and went back over the last two days. Rachel Berry had contacted all the old Glee members with the idea to have their own ten-year reunion. Since their class never accepted them in high school, she reasoned, what point was there to go to the actual reunion? While on some level Kurt had agreed, he also knew they were all adults now and should be able to behave as such and move on from the slushies and dumpster-tossing. But unlike the McKinley High School Class of 2012 reunion, which was being held in the Lima school's gym with tacky decorations, the Glee Club reunion was in Las Vegas (which had been Rachel's second choice since no one wanted to go to New York to hear her chatter on about her first big break at that theater there and how her fabulously wealthy (and talented) husband proposed at this cafe here).
Kurt had arrived in Sin City two days ago and the reunion was last night. He remembered the thrill of seeing everyone again and hearing how their lives had changed in a decade, but after that it got a little hazy. He remembered how Santana's life mission suddenly changed from making partner next year at her advertising firm to getting them all plastered by the end of the night. And the more he thought about it the more Kurt remembered his apparent affinity for body shots, especially when they were on Noah's toned body. He remembered the feel of the muscles beneath his tongue and the saltiness of the skin and....Elvis?
Kurt buried his head in his hands. It didn't take a genius to realize the now hung-over fashion magazine editor and the still-sleeping football star had slept together in a fit of alcohol-induced passion. The only obstacle now as to get beyond the morning-after awkwardness and accept that they would both pretend it didn't happen. And if Kurt weren't above such things, he would go perform the Walk of Shame right this very minute.
With another sigh Kurt scrubbed his face with his hands and abruptly stopped when he felt something other than skin rub against his face. Slowly, because his brain was starting to tell him what it thought the foreign object on his hand was and Kurt refused to believe it, he lowered his hands and looked at them in trepidation.
There, blinking at him in a mockingly cheery way, a gold ring encased the base of the fourth finger on his left hand. If it had been any cheaper it would have been plastic and it was probably going to turn said finger green, but there it sat. If he hadn't been sitting, Kurt would have fallen over and at this point he would have welcomed bashing his head on the sink as he went down in the hopes he would wake again and this would all be a dream. Because there was no way he had had a quickie Vegas wedding with Noah Puckerman. No way in Hell. He didn't even know they had chapels that married same sex couples around here. But, then again, it was Vegas so he shouldn't really be that surprised.
A sudden knock shot through the bathroom and Kurt was proud he didn't shriek, even though he did nearly fall into the bathtub.
"Hello?" Noah's voice, scratchy from sleep and alcohol, floated through the door. "Listen, I'm going to sound like an ass and I'm really sorry, but I cannot remember a thing from last night and…I'm kind of hoping knowing who I slept with will help me remember."
And Kurt thought he couldn't feel any worse. Although, to be fair, he didn't remember the actual sex or the....wedding (he shuddered slightly) either, just flashes of the moments leading up to it.
Noah knocked again. "Hello?"
"Hang on," Kurt said softly and for once blessed his voice for sounding sexually ambiguous. Glancing around wildly, he found a robe hanging off the back of the door. It was probably a little late for such a gesture of modesty, given the situation, but Kurt was scrambling for every scrap of dignity he could find and he refused to have the following conversation without any clothes.
Normally he would have checked his reflection in the mirror, but he knew if he looked he would probably find hickies or some other marks reminding him of the mistake that had tilted his world on its side and the reminder would probably shatter whatever calm he had managed to find.
With one final deep breath, Kurt turned the knob and opened the door to see a confused Noah standing in front of him. He, thankfully, had put on his boxers. "Hello Noah," Kurt said and lifted up his left hand. "Remember me now?"
Zydrate Anatomy – "Repo! The Genetic Opera"
A lone figure stood in the half-shadows of an empty alleyway, the smoke from his nearly-spent cigarette circling lazily above him. The long leather duster hung from his broad shoulders and fell like a black waterfall over the even darker dress shirt unbuttoned to reveal a muscled chest unmarred by surgery and black pants that clung in the right places. One of his steel-toed boots rested against the crumbling wall at his back, the heel grazing the edge of a "Graverobbers Will Be Executed on Sight" poster, a figure of defiance. A shout from Sanitarium Square caused him to turn his head sharply, the scars that criss-crossed the shaved dome glistening in the lamplight.
He watched the distant lights coming from the end of the alleyway for a moment before he threw the cigarette butt to the ground and reached into his coat to pull out another. The movement briefly made visible the brightly glowing vials at his hip; a blue flame for junkie moths.
Five years ago he had been a scientist for GeneCo, working to make the synthetic Zydrate just as effective yet less addictive than its natural counterpart when he collapsed in the lab on day, the tumor that had sat quiet in his brain deciding to make itself known. The surgery had been a success, but despite the company having taken him from the very streets he stood on now and making money off his brilliance for many years, they still forced him to pay for the surgery in full. Which he had done, at the cost of his life. He sold his house, his car, all his belongings and when he tried to return to work they turned him away, having already filled his vacant spot.
Now, in his own form of revenge, he peddled the exact drug he had been trying to make extinct. The more graverobbers selling Zydrate in the alleys for cheap, the less likely the chance of synthetic Zydrates sales going up. He might not have had a following like the graverobber who, rumor had it, helped the Wallace girl the night of the Opera, but he did well enough.
Movement caught his eye and the graverobber pushed off fluidly from the wall. The shadow stumbled forward and he sighed, recognizing the customer instantly from the figure's small size. The kid was too young, too innocent to be a weekly visitor, especially since over the months the graverobber had seen various expanses of the kid's milky-white skin and saw no scars, meaning somehow the kid had gotten hooked on the drug without surgery. The graverobber hadn't wanted to sell to him the first time he had strutted confidently into this alleyway, but the kid had offered a lot of cash when most first-timers wanted a free hit and he hadn't eaten in days. Now every time he saw the kid he wanted nothing more than to take him away from the trash-littered world he lived in.
"Hey kid," he said roughly as he pulled out the gun from one hip and the Zydrate from the other. "Where do you want it?"
The kid didn't answer right away and stopped several feet away, away from the lamplight his dealer stood under. He crossed his arms and couldn't seem to stand still, his features obliterated by shadows. Something was wrong. "I've heard-someone said," the junkie stammered, his high voice rough like he'd been chewing glass. Or vomiting. "The dealer down the way, he'll give hits for-" the kid stopped, his body rocking back and forth, nervous, before suddenly stilling as though gathering up his courage. He kept his head bent, though, obstructing his face from the graverobber's confused gaze. "He gives hits for sex," he said finally.
When he said no more the graverobber raised an eyebrow. "Good for him. I don't. You telling me you can't pay?" A quick jerk of the brunette's head confirmed it and the dealer sighed again. He could barely inject the kid for money himself, he would not let some disease-addled punk fuck him before sticking a dirty needle into his pristine skin. "Why don't you wait a while, detox a bit and see how you feel without it and if you really need it, save up some money and come back to me?" If anyone asked, he would deny the way his voice had gone soft.
Suddenly the kid stepped into the light and lifted his head. "I'm already detoxing," he ground out. The graverobber would have answered if his mouth wasn't hanging open in shock. The beautiful skin he loved to stroke just before injecting was sallow and translucent, covered in sweat and dirt. The green eyes that sparkled when the kid wasn't too far gone now stared glazed over, dead. Once pink and supple lips were white and chapped. The kid looked like shit warmed over, and that was being nice.
"Damn it," he growled, shoving the Zydrate and gun back into the depths of his coat. "Come on." He grabbed a too-skinny arm before he had time to think about it and took the drug addict to his shabby apartment where he sat vigilant for three days while the kid detoxed. On the third day the graverobber watched him sleep and he promised whatever deity was laughing over this fucked-up world that when the kid woke, he'd make a better life for them. Somehow.
4 Minutes – Glee cover
If six months ago someone had told Noah Puckerman he would be standing just off the basketball court ogling at Kurt Hummel as he sang rather than the cheerleaders shaking their stuff around him, they would have gotten shoved into a locker. And a slushie for good measure.
Yet here he was, standing the hallway that lead to the locker rooms, just out of sight of the crowd, transfixed as the kid actually growled as he sang. Puck should be in with the rest of the team, he really should, but Finn was the captain and with Coach Tanaka mowing down sandwiches like it's his last day on earth rather than actually coaching, it was up to the golden boy to rally the troops. And Finn had nothing to say to his former best friend.
He still looked past Puck like he didn't even exist and it hurt. Most of the football team made up the basketball team and they had all sided with Finn on this issue so he wouldn't even be missed right now. Puck didn't realize he had so many friends until they turned their backs on him. And with Quinn treating him like he was a burden rather than the other way around (though she is usually nice to him during Glee and that just confused the hell out of him) he literally had no one to talk to. Well, he thought as he watched Kurt sing with Mercedes, almost no one.
This friendship, bond, whatever it was between him and the fashionista had started right after sectionals, literally. Once they all bounced off the stage, Rachel clutching the award like her life depended on it, the entire club brushed past Puck like he was nothing. Quinn got a few sympathetic looks because she was the one carrying the baby (which made Mr. Shue's argument about not treating the girls fairly total bullshit. They only complained when the inequality was against them) but no one looked at Puck.
Until that day Puck assumed Kurt was still hot for Finn, but it was Puck he walked up to and asked if he was okay, not the Glee Club's main man. He sat next to Puck at the front of the bus and at first it pissed Puck off because he really didn't want the younger boy's pity, but as though he sensed Puck's silent irritation, Kurt explained he didn't pity him, he just knew there were two sides to every story and he liked hearing them both before making a decision. So after they got back to Lima, Kurt took him to a pizza parlour and Puck found himself spilling it all: his jealousy of Finn that lead to him sleeping with Quinn, his regret the day after, the love he convinced himself he had for Quinn and then later realized was affection for the life they created and the guilt he felt every time he looked at Finn before his friend found out.
Kurt had taken it all in silently and then decidedly declared that while he realized Finn was going to need some time to sort it out, Puck and Quinn hadn't had sex again and Puck was willing to step up while Finn was willing to just drop Quinn when he realized the baby wasn't his, Kurt sided with Puck. It filled the older boy with such warmth that he grinned he rest of the night and most of the next day.
They had started hanging out a lot more after that and somehow the affection Puck held for Kurt went from platonic to romantic. Especially when Kurt had stood up for him to Finn when the two thought they were the last ones to leave the choir room after practice, making it clear the soprano's crush had died. Now Puck wanted nothing more than to claim Kurt for his own, to be his first boyfriend, his first kiss and well, his first everything. But it had taken Kurt a while to trust Puck, even if he had stood at his side during the fallout of all the baby drama, and the jock knew it would take even more time for Kurt to trust him with his heart.
The cheering crowd broke Puck's thoughts and he looked up to see Mercedes and Kurt standing triumphantly in front of the rest of the Cheerios. Puck found himself grinning and wanting to run over to congratulate the pair, but a glance at the clock told him he needed to get back to the locker room if for no other reason than to be with the team when they re-entered the court. He took one last long, lingering gaze at Kurt in his Cheerio uniform (which shouldn't look that hot, but damn) before turning away.
My Same –Adele
The concept of KurtAndPuck didn't quite work on paper; in fact there wasn't a more opposite couple in existence. Yet if you walked down the halls of McKinley High you would see them standing close in front of the lockers, eyes seeing no one around them.
Ask their friends and they will confirm the wrongness of the couple: Mercedes would say she didn't understand what Kurt saw in the older boy; Quinn said she knew Kurt would leave Puck behind when he eventually went on to chase his dreams; Finn would sputter and say he didn't understand what was happening in his life any more and Artie would just smile like he knew all along.
Ask the pair themselves why they worked and they would just share a smile. Kurt would say they shouldn't work but they do. Puck would say before Kurt he never thought he could find someone he loved enough to stay with them (to which a passing Quinn would slap his head and remind him it was his weekend with their daughter).
When the bell rings they walk side by side to their class and everything about them screams they shouldn't be together, that they are just not meant to be and yet somehow that is exactly what makes them right.
Supermassive Black Hole - Muse
"Vampires playing baseball," Puck said after thundering down the steps to Kurt's basement room.
Kurt looked up from his homework and raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend standing at the bottom of the steps. "Hello to you too," he said before returning to the Calculus book in his lap.
"Vampires. Playing. Baseball." The jock repeated as he took long strides to cross the room. "Baseball-playing vampires!"
"That sparkle," Kurt added dryly and Puck fell backwards onto the bed with a groan.
"This woman was dropped on her head as a child, wasn't she?" Puck moaned as he tossed the paperback book in his hand toward Kurt. It landed on the smaller boy's homework and he sighed as he shoved it aside and shut his book.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, the scene is ten times more awesome in the movie." Kurt tossed all the books on the floor and shimmied down the bed to lie next to Puck, who twisted his head so hard his neck cracked.
"There's a movie?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Well, duh. Why do you think I made you read the first book?"
"Because under that facade of innocence you're secretly the devil-wait, first book? There's more than one?"
Kurt swiftly rolled off the bed, grabbed three noticeably larger books and returned to his previous position next to Puck. "Yup," he said as he tossed the books on his boyfriend's stomach, who let out a sharp gasp when they landed. "And each book is longer than the first." He couldn't help the sadistic glee from creeping into his voice.
"I hate you," Puck said glumly as he opened the cover of "New Moon." Kurt just laughed as he rolled onto his side. "I really do."
"But we both know you secretly love me," he said before kissing Puck lightly and sitting up to return to his homework.
If I Had You - Adam Lambert
Kurt scanned the crowd writhing beneath the colored lights, sipping his second drink of the night as the pounding bass thrummed heavy in his veins. He wanted to dance, but not with just anybody. He wanted to dance with the one person he knew he wouldn't find here. A voice in his head, sounding very much like Mercedes, scolded him as he passed over hot guy after hot guy, desperately hoping he'd see a short Mohawk and smug grin.
It's been five years, the not-Mercedes voice yelled over the music when Kurt smiled a small rejection smile to a particularly fine-looking prospect in a red t-shirt and clean jeans. And that was the real problem: it had been exactly five years since he stood broken-hearted in the train-station vainly searching the friendly faces around him for the one he wanted the most, a scene more befitting a black and white movie than real life.
But it happened, he had been abandoned and it was high time he got over that hurt. And yet as Kurt sadly turned his back on the dance floor and found an empty booth to sit in and nurse his drink, he realized this wound ran too deep to heal.
Kurt let his eyes slide close as he took another mouthful of alcohol, trying to ignore the optimistic words of the chorus blaring from the speakers across the room.
If I had you, that would be the only thing I'd ever need. If I had you, then money, fame and fortune never could compete. If I had you, life would be a party; it'd be ecstasy.
He had Puck once and he lost him for reasons still unknown to the now 23-year-old fashion photographer. That was the part that rankled: he didn't know what he had done to lose who he still believed was the love of his life. The two years he spent at Noah Puckerman's side weren't easy, but they were filled with joy and love. He had even grown attached to Puck and Quinn's little girl. Kurt let himself imagine they were a family, and he knew he had upset that family by taking the job in New York, but he and Puck had talked about it (argued more often than not) and eventually agreed that they would try to make it work long-distance and if after five years the separation was too much, Kurt would move back to Ohio (the irony of tonight's anniversary was not lost on Kurt). It might have sounded unfair to anyone else, but Kurt knew Puck could never move too far away from Quinn and his daughter and Kurt would never let himself be the person who stole Puck away.
But that was before Puck decided not to show up to say goodbye to Kurt, to change his cell phone number and break contact with anyone associated with Kurt. Quinn said she only saw Puck when she dropped off and picked up their daughter but they never spoke. Quinn only tried to bring up Kurt once, and Puck simply kissed the little girl goodbye and shut the door.
The pounding beat of the song that never seemed to end added to the growing headache and Kurt knew he wasn't going to get any answers from nameless strangers. With a sigh, he stood up and threw more money than he knew was needed for his two drinks and walked away with a heavy heart.
Ave Maria – The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Puck had learned by now not to be surprised when Kurt Hummel opened his mouth to sing. The kid had crazy range, and though Puck would never say it out loud, he had more talent than Rachel Berry.
So when Mr. Shue announced they were all going to perform solos for the group this week (with the unspoken "so Rachel, Finn and Jesse stop hogging the spotlight" hanging in the silence that followed) Puck was actually looking forward to hear what the soprano would perform.
The jock expected Beyoncé or Lady GaGa or some other chick singing a Top 20 pop hit, not the emotional, gorgeous ballad currently filling the auditorium. Puck wanted to look around at the others, to see if they were stunned as he was, but he couldn't take his eyes off Kurt. The younger boy had tears in his eyes, kind of like he did when he sang that song for Finn. But unlike then there not one hint of desperation in his voice and when the song ended, the final note echoing around them Puck realized he had been holding his breath at the intensity of the performance.
Mr. Shue finally broke the awed silence with a "Great job Kurt," his voice strangled with tears. The others murmured in agreement and Kurt blushed, his eyes still watery, before returned to his seat beside Mercedes. Puck still couldn't stop staring at the former kicker and was insanely grateful he had sat in the back so he wouldn't look like a nut trying to surreptitiously turn around to catch glimpses.
Years later Puck realized it was the moment he had fallen in love with Kurt, but at the time he merely acknowledged something had changed the way he looked at the younger boy and while it terrified him, he was excited to explore wherever this change led.
Take Me Or Leave Me – from the musical "Rent." David Burtka and Neil Patrick Harris "Broadway Backwards 3" performance.
"You ready for this?" Kurt asked as Mr. Shue announced them to the auditorium full of McKinley High School students. It had been the Glee Club teacher's brilliant idea to take a page out of Broadway's book and put on a concert with the girls singing songs originally meant for men and vice versa. And it was Puck's idea to use it to make his relationship with Kurt public. It wasn't that surprising, however, to see the jock looking a bit pale as they stood in the wings.
"No," Puck answered nervously before grabbing Kurt's hand and shooting him a small smile. "But there's no way I'm backing out." After a brief squeeze, he dropped his hand and a scowl overtook his features and he stalked onstage. Kurt took a deep breath and followed as the music started.
Please let me know what you think! Your feedback not only helps me when I go to write a new fic but it really makes my day.