Kurt had to be dreaming, that could be the only explanation for this strangeness. It was a reasonable enough idea. He fell asleep in French class during presentations because he could hardly understand anyone due to their terrible pronunciation. He'd fallen asleep then, so it wasn't unreasonable for him to be dreaming now because there was simply no other explanation for Puck to be following him down the hall. It had to be a dream, so he pinched himself as hard as he could to wake up from the stupid, taunting non-reality.

Unfortunately for Kurt, he'd either been mislead by all those who told him that one couldn't feel pain in one's dreams, or Puck really was following him out to his car. So he stopped and turned around to face the jock, hand tightening on his bag and his eyes narrowed.

"Why are you following me?" Puck raised an eyebrow, leaning all his weight on one leg, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"We've got plans today, remember?" Kurt tried very hard to keep his jaw from dropping, but was fairly positive he failed miserably.

"Wh-what? I didn't... I thought we were just... making up a story to keep Mercedes out of my house. I didn't think you were actually serious!" Kurt wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he saw a hint of hurt flash over Puck's features before the jock was studying the ground, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Yeah, well I was being serious. I mean... " He paused to lick his lips, his eyebrows creasing just a moment and if Kurt didn't know any better, he'd say Puck looked nervous. The older boy leaned in just a little bit closer, pressing his shoulder against the lockers.

"I thought I kind of made it obvious that I think you're kind of a cool dude, Kurt. You know... with the note and the... everything? I don't see the harm in hanging out a little. I'm not gonna like... jump you in your room or anything. I'm not that big of a douche."

He couldn't help it, Kurt felt his resolve slip at the seemingly sincere tone Puck spoke with. Somewhere in his mind, he knew this was a bad idea. Knew that Puck couldn't be trusted, that the jock had nearly destroyed Kurt's prized Alexander McQueen sweater his freshman year and he still couldn't get the faint smell of blue raspberry from his Versace jacket. But at the same time, Kurt couldn't forget the feeling of Puck's arms around him as they sat slumped in the hallways, the sound of his voice as he sang a song Kurt had been listening to on repeat ever since, despite his dad's confusion. But most of all, Kurt couldn't forget the warm press of Puck's lips against his own. With a sigh, Kurt nodded his head a little, pulling his bag higher on his shoulder.

"Okay... yeah, I guess you're right. We can... go to my place, I guess. But I'm not playing any stupid video games and I'm not watching any senseless, violent movies, understand?" Puck looked up at him and smiled a little, just enough to make Kurt's stomach tie in little knots.

"Cool. You can pick what we do. I'm just along for the ride." As Kurt led the way out to his car, wondering if maybe he was making a mistake. He caught Santana's eye from where she leaned against the row of locker opposite them, her pinky linked with Brittany's. She looked from him to Puck and smirked. Kurt wasn't sure what the smirk meant, whether she was going to kill him or not, but somehow he didn't feel as nervous as he figured he would. He tried as hard as he could to tell himself that it wasn't because he could feel Puck not two steps behind him.


Puck spent the whole drive to Kurt's house attempting to think up a good game plan, but literally everything he came up with was so cheesy he wanted to puke, or started with sex, which Santana had already told him wouldn't work. He knew whatever he did or said had to be perfect, because Kurt probably wouldn't give him more than one chance. That was, of course, if he even gave him that. Puck was still a little convinced that Kurt would laugh in his face no matter what he said.

Puck understood, he did. He hadn't exactly been the greatest guy in the past. In fact, he'd kind of been a dick to a lot of people, but especially to Kurt. He didn't really have anyone to blame, either. He was just kind of angry in general and took it out on people who couldn't fight back. And he did give himself a little bit of credit. Since joining Glee, he hadn't been nearly as big of a dick as in the past. And he didn't know when it was that he sort of started liking Kurt. For about ten seconds he'd had a personality crisis over digging a dude's ass, but when it came down to it, it was a nice ass. And who the fuck cared anyways. But now he had his past breathing down his neck and making him feel a little nervous, a feeling he wasn't really comfortable with.

The more he thought about what Santana had said to him the night before, the more he liked the idea of being iwith Kurt. And yeah, maybe that was a little bit gay but for once he kind of liked the idea of not being just an easy fuck. Maybe he could even make Kurt smile again. He'd messed up a lot in his life, but all that shit Mercedes had said about being a better guy made him really want to be a better guy. It couldn't hurt, anyways. Nodding a little to himself, Puck knew he'd make Kurt see what kind of person he could be, not just the person he was.

The Hummel's house wasn't anything like Puck expected. It looked a little different in the daylight when he wasn't sneaking around to nail chairs to the roof, but all together it was pretty average. He figured maybe the inside would be all fancy like Kurt's clothes, but really the only difference between Kurt's house and Puck's apartment was that the pillows on the couch actually matched and the curtains didn't look fifty years old. There were some pictures in the hallways, mostly of Kurt, some with his dad, and some of a really pretty looking lady that Puck assumed was Kurt's mom. Kurt hesitated a moment in the entryway, before leading the way down the hall and to a door a little left of the stairs.

"It's... it's kind of a mess right now so... just don't expect too much." Puck nodded a little, not really positive what he was agreeing to and followed Kurt down some stairs to a room that was definitely bigger than his at home. Puck could tell that at one point it probably looked kind of cool, or at least very Kurt, but at the moment it looked like a fucking wreck.

There were piles of dark fabrics all over the floor. A lamp was pushed over and leaning in a corner along with a bunch of pillows. A couple of flat couch looking things were pushed against the wall, one on top of the other and there were a couple lights hanging at weird angles from the ceiling.

"Shit... did you do all this?" Kurt tensed just a little, arms crossed over his chest.

"You mean the mess or the decorating? It's yes to both. I didn't... I didn't want to look at it anymore." Puck looked over at Kurt and frowned. The younger teen wasn't looking at him but at the mess all over the floor. He still looked upset and Puck couldn't really blame him. He knew how everyone saw Hudson, and he knew how much it sucked to have him say hurtful things to you, because you don't expect him to say them. He imagined it sucked even more when you didn't deserve it.

"I bet it looked pretty kick ass. You're good at shit like that." That got Kurt to look at him, his eyes wide and his forehead kind of creased in confusion.

"Did you just... how would you know if I'm good at 'shit like that' or not?" Puck shrugged a little, shifting kind of awkwardly.

"You helped Santana and Brittany with their costumes for that Gaga thing, right? Santana was freaking out about it all over facebook. And I figure... clothes and rooms can't be that different, right? Plus... all these colors seem to... like...match?" He wasn't sure if he was making things better or worse because Kurt just stared at him like he'd grown another head or twelve before his breath kind of hitched a little and he looked away, blinking really fast.

"I don't understand how you're doing this." His voice was really soft and shaking a little, and that got Puck kind of scared that Kurt was going to start screaming or crying because he'd said the wrong thing. He took a step or two towards Kurt but stopped himself short.

"What? What am I doing?"

"You're saying all the right things, and I don't understand how or… why." Kurt sniffled a little, his arms tightening around himself and Puck took another step forward. It was now or never. He figured going with his gut was probably the best thing he could do, so he took a chance. He wrapped an arm around Kurt and turned his body towards his own, bringing up a hand to tilt the younger teen's face up just a little, and pressed their lips together.

Kurt could honestly say that having Puck kiss him as a response was not even on his list of things he expected. But somehow, the soft touch released all the tension from his body. He felt himself leaning towards the jock, felt Puck's hand tighten against his waist, felt his hand against his cheek. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his knew maybe he should be wondering about Puck's motives, wondering about why exactly Puck was kissing him when as far as he knew the jock was pretty fond of chasing skirts.

But at the same time, Puck was kissing him like he was pretty fond of doing just what he was doing at this moment. And the feeling of being held, of being cradled was exactly what Kurt knew he'd needed since the day Korofsky had shoved him and Tina against the row of lockers. And all Kurt wanted was for the moment to not end. To not have to go back to pretending he was okay with the way things were, pretending he was strong because he told himself it was better than letting them see you broken. Because somehow, with Puck's arms around his waist and his thumb caressing Kurt's hip bone, Kurt felt like things might be okay, like he was strong enough handle everything going on. Like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as he felt.

Of course, the moment did not last forever. Puck pulled back, let his grip loosen, let his eyes open. Kurt wanted to stay wrapped up in the feeling of being wanted, but as the space between them grew, he felt the chill of the room sink into his bones. He allowed himself to stay in Puck's loose grip, figured it was easier than trying to run away.

"Listen, Kurt..." Puck started and his voice sounded kind of thick, his eyebrows knitting together in a way that made him look a little vulnerable.

"If this is the part where you say you didn't mean for that to happen and could we both just pretend it didn't... I swear, Noah Puckerman, I will make you walk home." Puck shook his head, running a hand over his neck.

"No... it's... look, I'm really trying here so don't... just relax and don't freak out about what I'm about to say." Now Kurt really was worried. He took a step back, out of Puck's hold, wrapping his arms around his middle. Puck made what look like a move towards him, but stopped short, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I'm not good at talking. I think we all pretty much know I'd rather punch someone than like... talk it out, or whatever. And I don't usually have to try with people. They either like me or they don't, and if they don't then I don't really give a fuck. And... I don't really try to sleep with girls. It's really fucking easy. And so... for a second there I kind of thought I'd be able to just skirt by on the same shit I've been pulling since I can remember, but... you're different. And that's the greatest fucking thing about you and I wouldn't want to just... skate by. I... I really like you, Kurt. And I know that sounds fucking stupid and probably out of the fucking blue because it's not like I've made it public knowledge that I don't just dig on chicks and I haven't exactly been Prince Charming to you or whatever, but I've been trying hard to not be a total dick to you and sometimes I can be, especially to Rachel, but that's mostly because she's fucking annoying as hell and-"

Kurt could have let him finish. He could have let Puck ramble on and on about whatever insane thing he had to say next, could have let him suffer. But Kurt didn't need that. He'd already been sold when Puck had first kissed him, had first held him in the hallway all that time ago, really. But hearing the older teen tell him that he "really liked" him, that was enough. So he shut him up in the only way you really can shut Noah Puckerman up.

He didn't kiss quite as well as Puck and he had to kind of tilt his head at an angle so they didn't bump noses, but the second he kissed him, Puck took control and everything just fell into place. Kurt felt himself arch towards the older teen as Puck tilted their heads just so, running his tongue just barely over his bottom lip. Kissing Puck was definitely different from kissing Brittany… although she was right, it did taste a little like dip.

Kurt smiled a little into the kiss, his hands gripping Puck's jacket to pull himself a little closer, whining a little when Puck pulled just barely away.

"You... you didn't let me finish..." Puck muttered a little, a tiny smile on his lips. Kurt shrugged a little, offering a smile back.

"I'm impatient. What can I say." Puck's smile widened, a little chuckle slipping into the air between them.

"Okay, yeah, you really are but what I've gotta say is kind of important and if I don't say it now I... I might pussy out, alright?" Kurt cocked an eyebrow, but nodded nonetheless, letting his hands slide down Puck's arms.

"I can't take credit for everything. Santana kind of forced me into seeing shit this way, but she knows me really fucking well so I trust her. I mean it when I say I really like you... and I don't usually really like people. But I want to like... try something with you. And not just fucking or some shit like that, but a real something. You know... something like what Quinn and Finn had only without her kind of being a bitch to him and him emotionally fucking Rachel and all that mess. I just mean... you know, like a thing. An exclusive thing." Kurt blinked a few times, his head tilting to the side a little, eyebrows knitting together.

"Are you asking me out? Like... to be your b-boyfriend?" Kurt had never said the word out loud in terms of himself and someone else. It made his throat feel kind of dry and his heart hammer in his chest. Like maybe he'd overstepped some invisible boundary and now Puck was going to leave because how dare he utter the "b-word". But none of it happened. Puck gave him a lopsided little grin and shrugged a bit.

"Yeah, yeah I guess that's what I'm doing. Like I said, I'm kind of shit with words. So... yeah, I'm asking you to be my boyfriend. Which sounds fucking weird but... I kind of like it." He said the word like he was tasting something new. Speaking it slowly, tasting it on his tongue and Kurt watched as Puck's eyes lit up a little in satisfaction. He couldn't believe it. It was just way too good to be true. Way too weird to be true. Finn addresses his crush, freaks out and calls him names. Puck returns his crush and wants to be his boyfriend? He took in a deep breath and felt it catch, had to swallow hard at the sweet look Puck was giving him.

"Your cheeks are all red. You totally weren't expecting this at all, were you?" Kurt choked out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head.

"N-no. I can honestly say I was not expecting this even for a second." They were silent a moment, Kurt focusing on the way that Puck's hands slid back and forth over his waist, his thumbs occasionally brushing over his hip bones, swaying their bodies back and forth a little.

"So...? What do you say? I know... I haven't exactly given you a reason to not think I'm shitting you but... I can be a good guy if I try to be. I mean... ask my sister. Sometimes I'm totally awesome to her. It's just a lot of effort to always be nice, but I totally will be an awesome boyfriend and I won't fuck around on you, partly because I know both you and Santana would totally murder me but also 'cause I don't really even want to. And... yeah, so what do you say?"

Kurt wanted to just blurt out yes and possibly demand Puck take him now, but figured he probably should tread lightly. The older teen wasn't exactly known for being trustworthy. But then again, everyone thought Finn was the trustworthy one so maybe they had it backwards all along. Kurt had to be sure that he wasn't going to get himself into another mess like he already had.

"One thing; I don't half ass things, Puckerman. If... if you actually want to be my b-boyfriend then... then we have to go public. I'm not going to be a secret while you work through a sexual identity crisis." Puck huffed a little, cocking an eyebrow, a slight frown on his lips.

"I don't do secret shit. That's fucking messy. And I wouldn't go through all this trouble for something like that anyways. If I'm asking you to be with Puckzilla, you're with Puckzilla and everyone fucking knows it. Because people should know that I'll fuck them up if they mess with you anymore. That includes Golden boy." He moved his hand, cupping Kurt's cheek and caressing his jaw just barely with his thumb.

"I'm serious about this, Kurt. Okay?" Kurt smiled despite himself, felt his cheeks flush bright red and nodded, looking down as he leaned a little into the jock's hand.

"Yeah... yeah, alright. I guess I should at least give you a chance. You did get that busted lip because of me." Puck smirked a little, leaning in to press a kiss against Kurt's lips, just enough pressure to make the younger teen's breath hitch.

"Damn straight, I did." He growled against the kiss. "And I think I deserve a thank you." His hands moved back to Kurt's waist and pulled him closer, nipping just enough at the younger teen's lip to make his knees go weak and-oh, yes-Kurt could get used to this.

Later, when Puck was chilling in his room after hanging out at Kurt's for a couple hours watching a movie (read: making out while a movie played in the background), he heard his phone go off and grabbed it with out even glancing down at who was calling.


"So... did you finally grow a pair? Or will you be coming in to school with your tail between your legs." Puck grinned at Santana's tone, leaning back in his computer chair.

"Let's just say that Puckarone is no long on the market." He heard her laugh, which she never did when he called himself one of his self-given nicknames.

"Good job, Puckerman. Wasn't sure you had it in you. But... I've got to say I'm pretty happy for you. And it's all thanks to my brilliance so just remember that at your big gay wedding."

"Whatever, Lopez. Just remember that we're both teenage dudes. I'm going to be having more sex than you and Brittany combined."

"Two months, Puckerman! I told you two months!" He snickered.

"Yeah, we'll see, bitch. You can't control Puckasaurous. This is beyond your talons." He could practically hear her roll her eyes.

"Whatever. Word from the wise? Bring him a coffee tomorrow. Little bit of milk, two sugars, he might even jump you in the hallway after." Puck hummed a little, nodding a little to himself

"Thanks, Lopez. You know... not just about the coffee thing."

"Yeah, yeah. Just good to know how right I am... but come on, don't get too gay and good feeling on me. Go cry to your boyfriend now, instead." He'd have flipped her off if she were there, but just settled on a laugh instead.

"Night, Santana. Don't wet your bed dreaming of Brittany!" And with a click, he hung up, knowing she'd never shut up if he let her. Especially now that she'd had a hand in him getting a boyfriend.

Puck grinned, leaning back a little more in his chair. Boyfriend. Yeah... that might have sounded a little gay, but Puck knew he'd be the most badass boyfriend ever that it wouldn't even matter. And with that, he pushed himself up, intent on telling his mom to leave some extra coffee in the pot tomorrow morning.