How Will I Know?

Disclaimer: Me own nothing.


Chapter Three: Express Yourself

Long stem roses are the way to your heart; he needs to start with your head

Satin sheets are very romantic; what happens when you're not in bed

You deserve the best in life, so if the time isn't right then just move on

Second best is never enough (Madonna)


Puck stood from his seated position across the room, his hands buried in his pockets. Kurt watched him from his place by the door; their eyes locked and the moment seemed far too intense, but neither wanted to be the first to look away for fear of losing some unspoken battle or imaginary high ground in the situation. Luckily, the sound of the door closing and the lock popping into place pulled both of their attention away from each other, even if it were only just for a moment.

"Kurt, you came." Puck descended from the top level of seating until he was on the main floor of the room.

Hands firmly resting on his slender hips Kurt looked incredulously at the other male, "Oh, are we back on a first name basis? I must not have gotten that newsletter."

Puck sighed, but his tone remained un-harsh, "Can you just not be a bitch right now?"

Kurt crossed his arms, "What do you want, Noah?" He shifted uncomfortably beneath the jock's gaze.

Noah shrugged, "Dunno, I just thought maybe we should talk."

"About what? What could we possibly have to talk about? You, for a lack of a better term, broke up with me."

Puck stepped a few paces closer, "That's not true!"

Kurt scoffed, "You made out with Santana Hopez! And then hit me!"

Puck laughed, "I don't mean to go all schoolyard on you, Princess, but you hit me first. And I only made out with Santana, because..." Puck trailed off with a shake of his head and a disgruntled noise echoing from the back of his throat.

Kurt sighed, his arms falling helplessly, "Is this really what you wanted to talk about?"

For a while Puck didn't say anything, he seemed to be thinking too hard, as if what he wanted to say would make the situation worse, if that were even possible. "I saw you this morning."

Kurt swallowed nervously, "What are you talking about?"

"On that bench." Puck shifted uncomfortably, "You were crying."

"Oh." Was all Kurt could say.

"What happened? Did someone, you know, hurt you?"

Kurt frowned, "Why is it so easy for people in this town to come to that assumption?" Puck shrugged, confused, "No. No one hurt me."

"Then what was it?" Puck pressed on.

For a moment Kurt hesitated, but his eyes quickly grew cold and he seemed to be withdrawn, even more so than he already was, "You do not get to ask me that."

Puck looked down and then back up, shuffling his feet awkwardly, "I just thought..." He trailed off, unsure of exactly what it was he thought. He just knew the sight of Kurt on that bench, broken and beaten—like he had totally given up on, well, on everything, was not a sight he was okay with.

"You thought wrong." Kurt's tone no longer held the animosity it had moments prior. Now he just seemed to be stating a fact.

The room grew silent for a long time before Kurt finally spoke again, "What do you want, Noah." Kurt sounded desperate, and as much as he hated that, he hated standing in front of Noah even more. He just could not handle this today. Not today.

"Can we try again?"

"Are you for real?" Kurt's question was nearly a laugh. Noah merely nodded in response, "Why on God's green earth would I ever agree to that?"

"Come on," Puck's tone had changed. It was deep and sounded more like a sultry growl than real English. He wasn't Noah anymore, no, he was Puck-zilla. Kurt frowned, he knew exactly where this was headed, "You know it wasn't all bad, babe." He stepped closer to Kurt with each word, until he was just inches away from the other boy. "You know you liked it. Like the way it felt." Puck purred as he snaked an arm around Kurt's waist it and pulled him closer. He smiled at the puff of breath and the soft, almost inaudible groan the boy let out, "Atta boy. There's my boy."

Kurt looked up at the other, his pupils huge and his eyes hazy and clouded with emotion-mostly with desire. "I am not your boy."

"Whatever." Puck breathed the word against Kurt's lips before he captured them against his own. Puck smiled against Kurt's mouth as the boy moaned into his and pressed himself even deeper into to Puck's body; their groins meeting in a blaze of passion. Kurt arched his feet up and Puck tightened his grip to support him, while Kurt's arms traveled up and around Puck's neck.

Another moan.

Puck began to grind teasingly against Kurt's pelvis-he was playing dirty. Kurt responded in kind and trailed his nails against the soft skin of Noah's head, causing the more masculine teen to shake with pleasure.

"Hell, yeah, baby." Puck moaned against Kurt's lips. The kiss continued and Puck's free hand traveled back behind Kurt and gave his butt a firm squeeze, eliciting another moan from the boy. "God, I missed this." Puck mumbled in a lust drunken haze.

Somehow Puck's confession brought Kurt back to reality and he pushed at Puck's muscular chest. "!"

Thankfully Puck did not fight Kurt's request but once he had relinquished the other he stared down at him with an annoyed expression, "The hell, Hummel?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at the use of his last name and smoothed out his clothes before looking Puck in the eyes. "I am not doing this," he motioned between them, "again."

"Whhyy, damn it?" Puck paused for a moment. Had he just whined? Hell no! A badass does not whine.

"Seriously? Seriously? Are you for real, Noah?" Kurt seemed to be even more passionate than when he had his lips pressed against Puck's. "The last time we were alone together you called me a, and I quote, 'little slut', and you have the audacity to ask me why I don't want to get into this again?" Puck nodded and Kurt groaned in frustration. "Fine, Noah, if you need an explanation, then I will give you one."

"Do you remember this morning, when you saw me?" Kurt asked.

Puck nodded, "Yeah, I brought it up, so obviously I remember."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "My point is I never even knew you were around. I sat there on a bench bawling my eyes out and you made no effort to help me. To see what was wrong."

"What do you call this?" Puck protested.

Kurt sighed, "This?" He nodded his head toward the back of the empty classroom, "This is you sneaking me into a locked room by means of a message scrawled on my homework. This is you pretending to care, so that you can get back into my good graces, and hopefully, into my pants."

"You think I was pretending?" Kurt nodded and Puck glared in return, "You know, I don't have to be doing this. If I want to get some I could have fifteen different chicks up in here right now."

"That!" Kurt pointed at the rebellious teen, "That, right there, is why we cannot do this again. The fact that you would throw it in my face that I could be so easily replaced is a testament to why this is wrong, on some many levels." Puck went to speak, but Kurt continued, "This is not what I want, Noah. This is the very opposite of what I want." Kurt sighed, he almost looked sorry for what he was about to say, "You're just not that guy."

"You won't even give me a chance to try."

"What do you call weeks of making out with you?" Again, Noah tried to interject, but Kurt would not allow him, "Look, Noah, this was, I guess in some weird way, a noble effort, but it just is not enough. You are so desperate to not be seen with me that you would rather leave me alone on a bench crying my eyes out than help me or offer some sort of hand. Like Finn."

Puck groaned, "I knew it! That is what this is really about. You're still hung up on that giant oak tree!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "First of all, I am not 'hung up on' him, or anyone. Secondly, the fact that you can refer to your best friend with such malice and find nothing wrong with it, proves that you're not the kind of guy I need." Kurt hesitated for a moment before he pressed on, "You may know how to make me feel good and moan like a little slut," Kurt practically bit the word in half as it left his mouth, "but it just does not go further than that. You do not know how to be in a relationship with anyone. I'm not even sure you can manage a healthy relationship with yourself."

"Me and myself get along just fine." Puck wiggled his eyebrows and made a fist and pumped it in front of his crotch several times.

"Please, you call yourself 'Puckosaorus' and 'Puck-Zilla', and make sexual hand gestures at inappropriate times. That is far from a healthy relationship. That's the one you need to work on before you can be ready to try being with someone else, especially with me."

"What are you saying, Kurt?"

The use of his first name did not escape the smaller boy's attention, but it did not change anything, "If you can prove that you know how to be in a relationship and be mature and treat me with some semblance of decency, then maybe, we can take this somewhere. Be something-something real. If you can express some kind of real emotion towards me, something other than, lust, then there might just be hope for you yet." Kurt tried his best to offer a small smile, "Until then, goodbye, Noah."

"And if I don't?" Taller teen asked as the other turned and reached for the door.

Kurt looked back over his shoulder, "Then I guess you'll save us both a lot of trouble," the next part he spoke so softly he was sure Puck could not have heard him, "and pain." And then he was gone.

Puck did not bother trying to argue or to chase after the other boy; even a badass knew when he had lost. Which was not frequently.


Author's Note: Well, what did you think? Let me know! I will try and update A.S.A.P. Much love!