As Sung By…

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: I'm not exactly sure where this story is going to go, but I'd love for you guys to follow along. The only that is official is that somewhere down the line this will be a Puck/Kurt story. Well, it already is, but I mean at some point they'll get together. This chapter focuses on Kurt's reaction to Puck singing. Read and Review, please and thank you!! Oh, and if there is anything you want to see happen with these two, let me know in a review, I'd love to include more of what you guys want!

Chapter One-Sweet Caroline

Where it began, I can't begin to know when
But then I know it's growing strong
Oh, wasn't the spring, whooo
And spring became the summer
Who'd believe you'd come along

As Puck's smooth voice echoed in the classroom, there were a series of obviously noticeable reactions:

The most obvious, of course, belonged to none other than Rachel Berry. Rachel sat properly with her hands folded neatly in her lap. A goofy-satisfied grin plastered across her face exposing her perfect teeth. Her warm, chocolate brown eyes were glued to Puck, watching intently as he serenaded her before the whole Glee club. For a girl who dressed so modestly, at this moment, her expression of longing, would've confused anyone who did not know her.

Hands, touching hands, reaching out
Touching me, touching you
Oh, sweet Caroline
Good times never seem so good
I've been inclined to believe it never would

To say that Santana look more than displeased with who Puck's current song was dedicated to, would have been an understatement. Berry?! Rachel-freaking-Berry? The girl could hardly manage to dress herself in decent fashion! It should've been illegal for one person to own that many hideous skirts. It was as if Puck were singing to the reincarnation of an elderly-preschooler. Not to mention, the entire school was aware that Puck was sleeping with her. Her. Not Rachel. Had he lost his mind?

The next most obvious expression, well third if you include Rachel's still current state of swooning, was Finn Hudson. Finn's usual dopey-look of perpetual confusion was in overdrive now. The quarterback couldn't bring himself to grasp the concept that Noah "Puck" Puckerman was actually singing. Let alone singing to Rachel. As far as he knew Rachel couldn't stand Puck. And the most interest Puck had ever shown for the talented brunette was to shove a slushie in her face.

A few seats down, more subtlety (in a completely obvious kind of way), Quinn, too was taking notice of Puck's talent. If it were possible she were even more attracted to him now than she had been the night she and he had…you know.

But of all the Glee club members no one was more enamored with the sound of Puck's voice as Kurt. As the fashionable, soprano listened on, the rest of the room melted away. The only thing Kurt could see or hear was him. Almost any trace of conscious thought had left Kurt the moment Noah's lips parted and that wonderful, no, glorious voice began to trickle into Kurt's ears. As Puck went on Kurt could feel himself growing warmer, his body responding to Puck in a way that he would have never thought possible.

And now I, I look at the night, whooo
And it don't seem so lonely
We fill it up with only two, oh
And when I hurt
Hurting runs off my shoulder
How can I hurt when holding you

The barely remaining sense of reason that lingered behind in Kurt's mind, whispered softly over the sound of Puck's voice, and berated him. What was wrong with him?!

This was Puck!

This was the same boy who had slushied him, dropped him in dumpsters, and ruined countless pieces of Kurt's wardrobe; however, none of that mattered at the moment. It didn't even matter that the song wasn't even for him. That Puck had probably forgotten about him all together, because the only person he seemed to notice was Rachel. Kurt let out a long, soft sigh as his body trembled. Behind his usually calm icy blue-grey eyes burned a passion that Kurt hadn't felt before. Not even for Finn.

And with his now enraged passion all traces of thought and wonder vanished. Now the only thing that mattered was Puck. And that voice. God, that voice. Each word passed through Kurt with a deep, fiery intensity.

Kurt watched as Puck masterly handled the guitar, his hands working along it, as if it were a part of him. Kurt found himself extremely jealous of that guitar. The way it pressed against the soft material of Puck's sweater, where it undoubtedly met the firmness of the muscles that rested beneath it. The way his fingers glided along, strumming it.

Oh, yeah. Definitely jealous.

Kurt never wanted this to end, but sadly he could hear the last of the notes of the familiar song coming to pass.

Oh, one, touching one, reaching out
Touching me, touching you
Oh, sweet Caroline
Good times never seem so good
Oh I've been inclined to believe it never would
Ohhh, sweet Caroline, good times never seem so good

Kurt's body shook and as the song came to end and he found himself carrying a heavy load of disdain for whoever wrote that song. Who the hell's idea was it to make it so short?

Soon, the effects of the song began to wear off and the applause died down and Kurt shook himself. His ability to think slowly returning and with it a good amount of shock and revulsion.

Once again the reality hit him: This was Puck!!

No. No. No! This was far from happening. Kurt Hummel did not, repeat, did not, have feelings for Noah Puckerman. The idea was laughable. It was insane, it was unconscionable. If anything Kurt had better taste than…this! Finn for example. Finn may not have been the most expensive pair of Prada loafers, but he was at least nice. And charming. And attractive, in clean, cut, and very appealing way.

And there was nothing, absolutely nothing, appealing about Puck. Not. One. Thing.

Not his perfect, soft mocha-brown skin. Not his condescending and totally alluring smile. Not the way his body spray mixed with his own scent, especially after a game or a dance rehearsal, or a football practice. Not even the milky, brown eyes that sat perfectly spaced on his face; his stunning and unblemished face…the place where his lips where. Those perfect and more than likely soft, talented lips. Kurt didn't even appreciate the way Puck's pants always seemed to cling (even without being as famously tight as Kurt's) to his long, toned legs. Or the way his well developed chest always seem to be evident under whatever shirt he was wearing. Or the way his strong arms always seemed to threaten to tear the seams of his sleeves.

Kurt's heart rate quickened and his palms began to sweat just a little as he continued to scan over Puck, counting every single "unappealing" thing about him.

Sadly, Kurt had been so caught up in his inspection that he allowed himself to get careless and for a moment confusion and passion clouded icy-blue eyes met warm, milky brown ones and Kurt felt himself melt. His cheeks flushed and he quickly diverted his gaze.

He may have been going crazy, or rather his body may have been going crazy, but that did not mean he had a death wish and if Puck caught him staring that's exactly what he would have been; dead.

While everyone was still caught up in relieving their own selves of the shock that had resonated from Puck's solo, Kurt took his chance to stand and made his way to the door. Luckily, he escaped without being noticed.

Kurt made quick work of locating a bathroom, he didn't check to see whether it was the Boys' or the Girl's; he didn't care. Upon, arrival Kurt's nose turned up as the terrible odor of lingering "teenage boy scent" burned at his senses and he realized which gender's he had slipped into.

Boys. He frowned at the thought. God, did they have to smell so bad?!

Kurt tossed the thought aside; he had far bigger issues to tussle with. Like the fact that his body and his mind were betraying him in a most unpleasant and unsettling way. He wandered over to the sinks and looked at himself in the mirror. Aside from the color in his cheeks, that was already lessening, nothing was out of place; however, on the inside, he was a mess.

Touching me, touching you.

The words echoed in Kurt's mind and the sound of Puck's perfect voice crept back inside, eliciting a soft shake from Kurt as his whole body caught on fire for a moment, his mind filling with a thousand different dirty things.

Once again Kurt shook himself. Not again. He had already fallen for one straight football player and he was still reeling from the painful and saddening effects of that. He couldn't do this again. He wouldn't. Especially not over Puck.

"God." Kurt whispered almost inaudibly. Even the thought of just his name was affecting Kurt. This was wrong. He hates you. And you hate him. That's the way it's supposed to be.

Kurt's inner debate would have to wait as the sound of the bathroom door closing pulled him back to reality. Kurt's heart jumped a little, he had been sure he had been alone, and practice had been delayed today, so the only people really left were himself, Mr. Shue, and the rest of the members, so he had hoped to be able to have a few minutes to himself and his thoughts; no matter how much he detested them at the moment.

Kurt looked past himself into the side of the mirror to see who had joined him and for the second time in five minutes his gaze collided with the one person's it probably shouldn't have.


Author's Note: Okay, so now I am excited for the next chapter. I'm starting it now, so it should be sometime soon. Remember, reviews are love and motivation. I hope you guys liked it!