A/N: This is a one-shot, which means it's not connected to my other Puckurt stories, but it was a muse-worm and I had to purge it before I could work on anything else!

Summary: A Puckurt romance, as told through a series of problems. Begins mid-relationship, mostly fluff. Rated T for a few situations, hopefully no language slips. Spoilers through "Grilled Cheesus" which is still the funniest phrase of the week, for me. Maybe it's the lapsed Catholic in me…

"We have a problem," Puck muttered, hoping no one else in the library would notice him apparently talking to himself.

Kurt, who was sitting with his back to Puck's, whispered back, "Your horrible fashion sense?"

"No!" Puck growled back, hiding his face behind a sports magazine when the librarian looked his way and frowned at his reading material. Like he would ever hide behind a text book…

"What then?" the other guy hissed back, and Puck heard him rearranging himself in his chair so his head was back, closer to Puck's.

Looking around one last time to make sure there were no witnesses, Puck told Kurt, "Freaking Finn Hudson saw that crap you left in my locker! I told you to get it out of there two hours ago."

"I haven't had a chance yet, Noah," Kurt replied, inching his chair back further. "And your locker has so much more room without books in it. It's the perfect place to dry my slushie-stained laundry."

"Well, Finn recognized that stupid sequined vest of yours. I had to tell him I stole it from you to ruin your day. He threatened to kick my ass unless I gave it back to you." Puck snorted, "Like he could take me…"

"You could have just told him the truth," Kurt pointed out, and Puck realized that it was about the thousandth time he'd heard that tone of voice.

And yet, his answer was still, "Hell no."

"I still say you're being an idiot and a coward."

"I say you're being a bitch."

"Please," Kurt scoffed, rustling his things before standing up and leaning over to whisper in Puck's ear as he left, "you know you love it, baby."

Puck carefully watched the boy walk away, appreciating the lightness of his steps and the set of his shoulders. Then, he sat back in his chair, still hiding behind his magazine, anonymous.

A few days later, in the fifteen minutes between when class let out and when Puck had to show up for football practice, Kurt pulled the guy into the abandoned art classroom and said, "We've got a problem."

"What now?" Puck smirked. "Is it a real problem, or a sexy problem?"

"A little of both," Kurt smiled, hoping Puck had locked the door behind him. "You know that new girl? Charlotte?"

"The hottie in our math class?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at Puck's insensitivity and shot back, "I thought I was the reason you started actually showing up for that class."

"Well, yeah," Puck smiled. "You being there helps. Except I can't stop thinking about how damn good you taste."

"Yeah, well," Kurt blushed, keeping one hand on Noah's chest so the boy wouldn't maul him before he got this important message across. "Charlotte told us – me and the girls – she's got the biggest crush on you. She's coming for you, baby, and that's just so not cool."

"Really?" Puck smiled and Kurt could practically see the, "Damn I'm sexy," thought flit through his boyfriend's eyes. Then he met Kurt's frown and took a sharp breath, "But I'm all yours. I've told you that."

"But you won't tell anyone else!" Kurt pouted. "And this girl has major social ninja skills. She got Artie to do her homework without even talking to him directly!"

"I'll shoot her down."

"Just like you've been shooting down everyone else lately," Kurt pointed out. "You know, there's a rumor going around the school that your vasectomy got screwed up and …"

"And what?" Puck growled, making Kurt suddenly fear for his safety a little bit. "What?"

"And, that your – your junk doesn't work anymore," Kurt said gently, giving his best innocent eyes so Noah wouldn't think about killing the messenger. "And that's why you haven't been dating any of the girls."


"I know, baby, I know," Kurt soothed him, hands kneading the muscles at the back of Puck's neck as they stood face to face. "But it's all bull. I know how well your junk works."

Puck looked up, the hurt look melting off his face all of a sudden as he smirked. "Damn straight, Hummel. Now, are we gonna make out, or what?"

"Yes," Kurt insisted, with a decisive nod of his head. "Just don't muss me up too bad. My dad's picking me up in ten minutes."

Puck shook his head and smiled before pressing his lips to Kurt's, taking the first chance he could get to let his hands wander into the other boy's hair, gently tousling it so Kurt wouldn't notice until it was too late.

Puck skulked around outside the school during lunch, not wanting to go back in. Kurt was talking with his friends and Puck didn't really have anyone else. Not really. He didn't have Quinn, despite the confused looks she gave him sometimes. He didn't have Finn. Mike was making out with Tina, and Artie was all depressed about that. Plus, that Charlotte chick was stalking him.

Crap, she found him. "Hey, there Puck," the girl said, her voice breathy and smirking. She was alright, he guessed, in a Cheerios uniform, her dark black hair in that high ponytail they all wore, and her legs about a mile long. But she wasn't who he wanted. "What are you doing out here, sweetie? It's getting cold out."

"Really?" he answered dismissively, just wanting this wolf in sheep's clothing to go away. "I hadn't noticed."

"You must run hot," she observed, pulling her arms tighter around herself and eyeing his letterman's jacket. Fuck, she wanted him to give it to her, didn't she? Well, screw that. It still smelled a little like Kurt from when he'd been wearing it the night before and no way was Puck going to share it with this superior bitch.

When she went to touch his shoulder, Puck brushed her hand away and muttered, "Back off, Skankerella. Find someone else to crush on, because I'm not interested in sloppy seconds."

With that, he escaped back into the school building, not caring when he heard a crocodile sob from behind him. Puck knew the difference between real tears and fake, and Kurt's were always as real as they came. He hated every one of them.

In Glee club, Kurt was painfully aware of Noah sitting two chairs away, also up against the back wall of the room. Mercedes and Quinn were arguing about something and Kurt didn't really feel like drama so much as he felt like being near his boyfriend, even if Puck wouldn't let him show it.

"We have a big problem, as you know," the teacher insisted, going on to talk about the best strategy for getting to nationals, scribbling furiously on the board.

Once, when Mr. Schuester's back was turned, writing a word on the whiteboard, the boy smiled over at him before childishly miming a blow job with his tongue against the inside of his cheek. It reminded Kurt of the ways Puck would try to cheer him up while his dad was out of the coma, but still in the hospital. It had been sweet, in a very inappropriate way, but it had led to them making out for the first time. So, amid good memories and against all better judgment, Kurt laughed, drawing everyone's attention.

"What's so funny, Kurt?" Mr. Schue asked. "I didn't think major chords were especially comedic, but …"

"Nothing," Kurt insisted, hating the way everyone was looking at him like he was crazy. He wanted to look over at Noah to see how he was faring, but he didn't want to chance, under threat of very real pain from his boyfriend, that one look would give them away. "Sorry, Mr. Schue. Just a funny YouTube video."

Sighing in frustration, the teacher gave Kurt a disappointed look before ordering, "Try to pay attention, Kurt. This is important for making it to nationals this year."

"No, I know," Kurt nodded again, dismissing Mercedes' concerned look and Brittany's oblivious smile. "Sorry."

Class went on as normal for awhile, until Noah cleared his throat very softly, making Kurt look over at him. The boy was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands hidden behind Mercedes' chair in front of him. When Schue's back was turned again, Kurt shot Puck a questioning glance, and was rewarded for his concern with a vulgar pantomime. Puck clenched one fist and let the opposite thumb rub and then enter the space between his fingers and his palm. Slow and sensual, he mimicked penetrative sex for Kurt until the shorter boy blushed fiercely and choked on his own spit, hacking up a lung. Thankfully, almost drowning really masked the symptoms of arousal Puck had instigated.

"No, no, I'm good," he insisted as everyone stared at him. "Just … went down the wrong way."

"I'll say," Puck whispered with a little smile. Oh, he was going to die, and soon.

"And finally," Schue said, getting back the class' attention. "We have a student auditioning for a place on our team!" He went and opened the door, gesturing to someone as he said, "Everyone, welcome Charlotte DeMiro!"

Lots of people said, "Hey," or, "Hello," but Kurt shared a quick, concerned look with his boyfriend. This was the girl after his boy, and Kurt didn't know what he could possibly do about it without outing Puck and probably losing him anyway. Damn it. He prayed Puck wasn't gullible enough to fall for anything she had up her sleeve.

"Thanks," the girl beamed, all bright smile and perky boobs. "I really hope you guys like this!" She gestured to the jazz band, who started playing as she not-so-subtly locked eyes with Puck. Her voice was alright, in tune but not particularly powerful. And it was ruining one of Kurt's favorite songs…

I've got a lot to say to you
I've got a lot to say.
I noticed your eyes are always glued to me.
Keeping them here.

The girl playfully brushed both hands over her collarbones, like anyone could mistake the way she was drawing attention to her breasts. A quick look at Puck found him sitting back in his chair and staring off into space, like he couldn't care less about the girl. Good.

And it makes no sense at all.

They taped over your mouth
Scribbled out the truth with their lies
Your little spies.

Crush, crush, crush,
Crush, crush!

Up front, Brittany and Santana supplied the background vocals, "Two, three, four."

Nothing compares to
A quiet evening alone.
Just the one, two

At this, Charlotte pointed first to herself and then to Puck, dancing her way through the crowd to sit between him and Kurt, making her affections perfectly clear as she crossed her legs and leaned toward Puck, who was looking reassuringly uncomfortable.

I was counting on.

That never happens
I guess I'm dreaming again
Let's be more than this!

Rock and roll, baby
Don't you know that
We're all alone now?
Give me something to sing about.

Kurt gave Charlotte his best frown of disdain, standing up and moving away to go sit next to Quinn. Thankfully, the new girl was done, touching Puck's shoulder quickly before flouncing to the front of the room with a big grin and a wink for the jock. "Shameful," Quinn muttered beside him, looking almost as disgusted as Kurt.

Leaning toward the blonde, Kurt whispered, "I agree. She seriously needs a personality adjustment."

"She needs," Quinn stressed, "to lay off other people's boyfriends."

Kurt's stomach sank and he felt like retching. Puck had promised him at least five times that he wasn't seeing Quinn anymore. He insisted that the cheerleader had broken his heart and wouldn't take him back. Fighting the urge to cry, Kurt schooled his expression, and asked, "Since when have you and the baby-daddy been back together?"

Quinn turned to him with a knowing expression, her eyes drawing a line between Kurt and Puck behind them before she raised one eyebrow. Kurt responded with a quick, terrified shake of his head and faced the front of the room. How had she found out? Not even Mercedes knew about his thing with Puck. Oh, Kurt was dead. Absolutely dead!

When the bell rang, announcing the end of the elective hour, Quinn jumped up and threw her arm around Charlotte's shoulders, saying loudly and with a big smile, "Oh, I think you'll fit right in, Charlie. You don't mind if I call you Charlie, do you? Let's you and I have a little chat, okay?"

On his way past, Puck hit Kurt in the arm, an outward sign of torment, but really their signal to meet in the east wing bathrooms for a minute. Kurt joined Mercedes and then told her to make an excuse in History for him, as he was pretty sure lunch wasn't agreeing with him today.

When Kurt made it to the bathroom, Puck assured him with a nod that they were alone, and both boys spoke at once, "We have a problem."

"Charlotte?" Puck asked, slipping his hand into Kurt's. He knew it was a stupid, gay move, but Puck liked the way Kurt's baby-soft hands felt in his. "I tried insulting her into backing off, but it didn't work."

Giving him an assessing look, Kurt eventually confessed, "Quinn. She knows about us."

Heart beating with fear, Puck dropped Kurt's hand and asked, "What? How?"

"I don't know!" Kurt insisted, his voice low and secretive, like always. "I thought maybe you told her."

"Why the fuck would I do that?" Puck knew as soon as it came out that what he'd said was hurtful. "I mean, no, baby. I didn't tell her."

Kurt nodded, still a little stiff with the insult, the way his lips were pressed together, but his eyes softening. "She must have seen us or something, because I haven't told anyone either."

"That time under the bleachers, maybe?" Puck asked.

Kurt shuddered, "Ugh, don't remind me. It was so disgusting down there."

"I think you like it a little disgusting."

Kurt scoffed but smiled before asking, "That time in your truck? It wasn't quite dark yet."

"No," Puck shook his head. He'd been on top, keeping a look out the whole time and there was no way anyone would have seen them. "What about that time after glee club, when Quinn came back for her sweater?"

"She thought you were attacking me," Kurt insisted. "Especially since we heard her coming. We're both very good actors, Noah. It must have been something else."

"Maybe," a feminine voice came from the doorway, "she just saw you two making moon-eyes at each other when you thought no one was looking. All day. Every day. Seriously, I'm surprised I'm the only one who's figured it out." Quinn stood there, next to the door a smug smirk on her face.

Kurt's mouth dropped open and Puck felt his doing the same. His only redeeming hope was the fact that Quinn was the best secret-keeper he'd ever met.

"Don't worry, boys," she said, her voice more amused than anything else. "I won't tell. But keep in mind that if I noticed, there are others in this school who will eventually notice as well."

"Right," Kurt nodded, looking up at Puck with wide, frightened eyes, almost like he wanted to say it was all Puck's fault for some reason, but wouldn't. Not while Quinn was here, and maybe not at all. He could be a pushover like that sometimes. Not often, but sometimes, if the motivation was high enough. And Puck knew several very effective ways to motivate the guy.

Eventually breaking the silence, Quinn spoke up, saying, "Well, I've got a class to get to. You boys have fun." And then she left.

The silence lasted a few beats more, Puck trying not to notice how intensely Kurt was studying him. He knew Kurt wanted to brag to the whole school that they were together and it was Puck keeping their relationship a secret. He'd told Kurt after it just started, "Dude, we can't tell anyone. They'll think you recruited me or something and freak out. Just … let's play it cool." Sometimes Puck wondered if Kurt was forgetting about that very real possibility. If a guy like Puck could "switch teams" no one's ass was safe. They'd kill Kurt out of fear, and Puck very much liked him alive and moaning.

His skin heating a little at the thought, Puck captured his boyfriend in a quick kiss before asking, "Poker Night?"

Kurt nodded, "I'll call when my dad leaves and the coast is clear." He stepped further away and pouted, "We should probably stay incommunicado until then, just in case."

"Sure, baby," Puck replied.

"And no more vulgar gestures!" Kurt insisted as he reached the door. "You know I can't keep a straight face."

Puck laughed, calling after the guy, "Good thing I like your gay face!"

Nah. Quinn might know now, but that didn't mean anyone else would figure it out. Everything was going to be fine.

"Crap!" Kurt cried, clapping his hand over Puck's mouth. Harshly, he whispered, "We have a problem!"

"Mmmahh?" Puck asked angrily, wriggling under Kurt and trying to get things going again. He could be so needy sometimes. Puck probably would have tried to pull Kurt's hand away, too, if his hadn't been tied behind his head. "Mmmuurr?"

"Shut up!" Kurt hissed, pulling out as he tried to listen for that noise. There it was again, footsteps upstairs. "My dad came home early!"

"Mmuuhk!" Puck replied, a wide, panicked look in his eyes. They hadn't told anyone about their relationship, including parents. If Dad came down to say hello…

"I know, I know!" Kurt replied, letting go of Puck's mouth and grabbing his own underwear off the floor. "If he sees you here, like this, he might have another heart attack!"

"So untie me!" Puck demanded.

Instead, Kurt grabbed his big fluffy robe and threw it on before reaching for one of the sheets. "Just stay really, really quiet," he insisted, ignoring the protest in his boyfriend's helpless yelp as he snapped the fabric and let it fall, adjusting it a few times so all anyone would see was a fairly human-sized lump under the covers. "I'll be right back!"

"I hate you," Puck hissed, kicking at the sheet, but keeping himself covered. Kurt didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the vehemence in Puck's statement, so he just took a deep breath, straightened his hair, and went upstairs to say hello.

"Dad?" he called as he left the basement, closing the door behind him. "Dad, is that you?"

"Hey, kiddo." The response came vaguely from the kitchen, so Kurt headed that way, wishing with everything he had that he didn't look too out of sorts. Kurt's dad was there, sitting on one of the stools at the high counter, a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other.

Kurt thought his dad looked a little pale, so he asked, "Are you alright? Should I call the ambulance?"

"No," his dad chuckled, looking up with that familiar smile. "I just…Gary's wife made this tuna casserole that he brought in for lunch and it hit all of us at the same time."

"Food poisoning?" Kurt asked, slightly relieved that there was a good explanation for his Dad's appearance. "Then why the staring contest with your bottle of pills?"

"Tryin' to decide whether I should take one at all if I'm just going to throw it back up in five minutes. These puppies cost almost three bucks each."

"Dad," Kurt warned. "Take the damn pill. Those 'puppies' are keeping you alive, food poisoning or no."

Burt looked up and plead, "But-"

"No!" Kurt insisted. "If it's that important to you I will pay you back out of my hard-earned wardrobe budget, alright?"

Father and son shared a long look before Burt sighed and opened the bottle, shaking out one of the little green pills and swallowing it with a careful sip of water. "There."

"Thank you," Kurt murmured, snapping the cap back on the pill bottle and placing it back in its place next to the napkin holder.

After a few more seconds, Kurt caught his dad giving him a funny look, which prompted the man into saying, "Are you alright? You look a little flushed."

"Jazzercise," Kurt insisted, the excuse already formed in his mind during the flight upstairs. "Gotta keep in shape, you know."

"Yeah," Burt nodded tiredly, rubbing his stomach and seeming to buy every word of Kurt's lie. "Smart kid. You won't end up sick as a dog when you're my age, will you?"

"Maybe from food poisoning…," Kurt chuckled, grasping his dad's elbow and maneuvering him toward the hallway that went back to the master bedroom and the study (Kurt's old room, before his wardrobe outgrew the closet and he was spending so much time in the shared bathroom that Burt got fed up and built him another one in the basement). "Now, go try to get some sleep. I'll check in on you in a little bit, but I've got a routine to finish up and some homework after that. Okay?"

"Sure, Kurt," the man nodded. "Thanks."

"Any time," Kurt waved, relieved that his excuse worked and his dad hadn't found the naked boyfriend tied to his bed. Speaking of, Kurt walked back to the basement door as calmly as he could, opening the door and shutting it carefully behind him before barreling down the stairs, bare feet slapping on the concrete as he ran.

"Sorry!" Kurt called quietly as he hurried over to the bed. Underneath the covers was a very annoyed looking Puck. "Sorry," Kurt repeated, kissing him and reaching up to untie the scarves around Puck's wrists.

"That was so not cool, Hummel," Puck growled, frowning until his wrists were free and he could sit up, rubbing them. "I can't believe you just left me. That's like the first rule of bondage. I could have died or somethin'!"

"Oh, please," Kurt scoffed, finding Puck's clothes and throwing them to him. "I was gone for two minutes and they were scarves."

"Still not cool," Puck replied, catching the shirt Kurt tossed at his head. "And what's this crap? We're not done yet."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes we are! I'm not having sex with you when my dad could come down here at any minute!"

"Fine," Puck agreed, his eyes smoldering with anger as he pulled on his clothes. "But you owe me, baby." Kurt's heart raced a few beats in fear and anticipation as Puck stalked closer, pressing Kurt back against the wall next to his closet and whispering, "So goddamn much."

Barely able to breathe, Kurt nodded, "Okay."

With a victorious smirk, Puck kissed Kurt one last time before pulling on his shoes and crawling out the basement window. When he was up there, he held the window open and called down to Kurt, "And I'll collect very soon."

Kurt shivered, which had everything to do with the tone in Puck's voice and almost nothing to do with the cold air blowing in from the window that Kurt had to go close properly and latch. He had a feeling payback was going to be a bitch.

There was something wrong about having to pay to see your boyfriend, but Puck ponied up the two-fifty for a ticket at the discount movie theatre. This week Kurt picked out some stupid drama that Puck was sure he'd get bored with before the first minute was over, so he was looking forward to collecting his payback. However, as soon as the lights dimmed and Kurt moved a few rows back to sit next to him, the boy breathed in his ear, "We have a problem."

Groaning softly, Puck whispered back, "What now?"

Nodding up where he'd been sitting, Kurt said, "Finn badgered his way into coming with me. Our parents are out on some date and Rachel's hanging with her dads."

Now Puck saw it, the big head, high above all the others in the theater. Why couldn't Puck and his boyfriend ever get some easy quality time together? Oh, right – it was too much trouble to come out. This was almost worse. He had been expecting some quality hand holding and making out, maybe a blow job if he could talk Kurt into it. Now that was all ruined. Unless…

"Let's ditch," Puck murmured, nuzzling Kurt's neck behind his ear and placing a soft kiss there. "Hop over into one of the other theatres for awhile."

Despite the tiny gasp and the way Kurt squeezed Puck's lower thigh as if he needed the support in the face of Puck's sexiness, he said, "Can't. Finn'll come looking. Besides, he saw you come in."

"Crap!" Puck sighed. "Fine. Let's go sit by the douche. You're no fun when you're all anxious, anyway."

"Thanks," Kurt scoffed standing up and leading Puck back toward Finn. There were plenty of empty seats, and somehow Puck got sandwiched between Finn and Kurt.

"Hey, bro," Finn whispered, passing Puck a tub of popcorn. Briefly, Puck considered busting out his jackknife and cutting a Puckzilla-sized hole in the bottom, but somehow, he didn't think Kurt would appreciate the joke with Finn sitting right next to them.

So, Puck just nodded at Finn, took the popcorn and sighed. It was going to be a long two hours. He was just not cut out for this sort of crap.

Kurt was browsing through various online designer catalogs, trying to put the perfect outfit together, when his phone rang. "Hey, Noah," he smiled, scrolling down a page of fabulous accessories. "What's going on?"

"Dude, we have a problem," Puck insisted with a halting groan, like he'd just fallen back onto his bed.

"God, what now?" Kurt replied in frustration. "Are you chickening out? Some badass you turned out to be…"

"Don't you dare question my badassness, Hummel," Puck snarled, and Kurt shivered at the passion in his tone of voice. He loved it when Noah growled at him.

"Sorry, baby," he breathed, his hat shopping abandoned as he rolled over to stare at the paneled ceiling above his bed. "What, though?"

After a long, labored sigh, Puck confessed, "Rachel found out I was going to prom by myself and she tricked me into agreeing to go with that Charlie chick. I don't know how to get out of it."

"She tricked you?" Kurt asked, more annoyed than hurt. If six months of late-night talks, secret notes, hurried meetings, and long, languid nights alone together when Burt and Carole went on that cruise, hadn't convinced Kurt that his boyfriend was there to stay, nothing would. "How?"

"I don't know," Puck insisted, sounding almost embarrassed. "Rachel's a freaking ninja. She distracts you with bull and bores you into saying anything to get her to shut up. She's already planned our freaking itinerary! I think she might have a wedding planned after that…"

Kurt took a deep breath, knowing that if he couldn't be calm about this latest hiccup in the Puckurt coming-out plan, he wouldn't be able to calm his usually cool-as-a-cucumber boyfriend either. "It's going to be okay. Itineraries can be changed. Plans can be shuffled. We could just tell Rachel and Finn. I mean, they're going to find out the night of prom anyway."

"When in their entire lives, have either Finn or Rachel been able to keep a secret for more than ten minutes?"

"Oh," Kurt huffed. "I see your point."

Puck was silent for a long time, but Kurt knew it was just because he was thinking and never really talked just for the sake of talking. Then, Kurt asked, "Can you tell her you're going with a girl from another school?"

"Don't you have to register out-of-school guests?" Puck asked. "I only remember because this one time during freshman year, this one senior from Lima West asked me to go with her. I had to give them my mom's number and everything."

"Does Charlie work on the planning committee? Because if she didn't, there's no way she would know you were lying."

Puck scoffed and said, "How the hell should I know?"

Opening his laptop back up, Kurt said, "I'll put Quinn on it. Hell, maybe if Quinn doesn't have a date, you two could go as friends, like me and Mercedes."

"In what world would Quinn Fabray, head freaking cheerleader, not have a date to Junior prom?"

Kurt's heart dropped. Puck was right. Then, he said, as much for himself as his boyfriend, "Even if you do have to take Charlie, there's nothing saying the plan can't go ahead as normal."

"I know I'm not the most social guy, or whatever," the boy said, "but that's pretty low, even for me. Ditching a girl halfway through prom? That's not the cool way to do this, bro."

"I'm not your bro," Kurt insisted, for the two-hundredth time. "Incestuous relationships are just icky."

"No!" Puck cried in complaint. "Don't get that crap stuck in my head, Kurt! I didn't mean it!"

Kurt laughed, imagining Noah's disgusted expression. "I'd take it back, Noh, but what has been seen cannot be unseen."

"Geez," Puck cried again, but this time he was laughing. "You're the devil, Kurt. The freaking devil."

"I don't believe in the devil."

"Oh, come on," and this time, Puck was teasing, "we both know you've got more self-confidence than that! Believe in yourself, baby! Believe!"

Seven minutes after hitting Kurt's arm on the way out of English class, Puck was pacing back and forth in the bathroom alone after scaring away a freshman and two sophomores. Finally, Kurt sauntered in and up to the mirror, ignoring Puck like he wasn't even there and pulling a bottle of something from his bag, which he started dabbing onto his face. Grabbing the chair he'd pulled into the bathroom for just this purpose, Puck wedged it under the door handle before joining his boyfriend at the mirror.

Standing just behind Kurt, Puck rested his hands on the other boy's hips and buried his face in the crook of his neck. "We've got a serious problem, baby."

"Charlie wouldn't take no for an answer?"

"Nah," Puck murmured, tugging on Kurt's ear with his lips. "I got that straightened out first period. Sent her a note that said, 'Going to prom with someone else. Sorry. Leave me the hell alone.' She looked pissed, but she left me alone."

"So what's the problem?" Kurt asked, setting down his make up or whatever and turning around in Puck's arms.

"When Azimio made you drop your papers earlier?" Puck began, pressing a few teasing kisses to Kurt's lips. "You bent over to pick them up."

"That's the big problem?" Kurt asked, looking almost annoyed, but Puck recognized that interested glint in his eyes and the subtle press forward of his hips.

Puck smirked and kissed Kurt again, trailing his lips from that mouth, back along that jaw, whispering in his ear, "Well, it's not a small problem by any stretch of the imagination."

"Oh, good," Kurt sneered, but his hands found their way into Puck's shirt anyway. "Just when I thought I would die from never hearing another dick joke."

"Keep me around, babe," Puck whispered again, really going in for the kill with a gentle bite, "and you won't have to worry about that ever again." Kurt snorted in laughter, but Puck didn't mind. He kind of really liked making Kurt laugh.

"Your date's picking you up?" Puck's mom asked for the zillionth time, straightening his tie yet again. "Well that's a problem right there! Whatever happened to chivalry? I thought I taught you better than this, Noah."

"I told you, Ma," Puck sighed, brushing her hands away so he could loosen the damn thing enough to breathe. He really didn't want to pass out and leave Kurt alone with his mother. "You'll understand when my date gets here."

"Couldn't you just give me her name? Is it Quinn? I wouldn't mind if it was Quinn. Despite the way you corrupted her, she's a nice young lady. A bit too fond of pork products, if you ask me…"

Puck snorted. There was a dirty joke in there somewhere, he could just feel it. But now he was starting to get a little nervous that Kurt wouldn't show, so Puck stomped over to the front window, willing the guy's big, black Navigator to show up. It was definitely a better car to show up in than Puck's junker jeep, but it meant Puck had to be the one waiting, at home, with his mother and all her flitting around.

Finally, the truck pulled into the Puckerman driveway and Puck sighed, partly in relief that his wait was over and partly in fear over what would happen next. As Kurt approached, appropriately dapper in a gray tux with a shiny dark-red vest and a black bow-tie over a white shirt, Puck opened the door. "Hey," he said shyly, which he regretted as soon as it came out. He was the Puckasaurus! He wasn't shy.

"Hey, Noah," Kurt replied, just as shyly, his cheeks blushing as he looked Puck up and down. Puck had gotten Quinn and his mom to help, so although the tux was rented and his shoes were a little too tight, he knew he looked good. He was dressed in a very dark brown tux with a dark green shirt and some tie that the cheerleader had picked out, to complement his eyes, she said. "You look … wow."

"I know," Puck smirked. "You, too."

"Sweetie?" Puck's mom broke in. "Who's your friend? I thought your date was coming to pick you up…"

Noah reached forward and took Kurt's hand before facing his mother. "This is Kurt Hummel, Ma. My date." When he turned briefly to check on him, Kurt gave Puck a nervous, but encouraging smile.

"Your…?" Mrs. Puckerman asked, looking back and forth between the two boys. "Oh…" She seemed to think about this for a few moments, her eyes eventually finding their interlocked hands. "Oh!" A slow smile spread across her face and Puck's followed along with it. Suddenly he wasn't feeling so nervous. "Oh! Come in! Kurt, you said?"

The boy dropped Puck's hand so he could offer his to Puck's mom. "Yes. I'm Kurt. It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

"Wow," Mrs. Puckerman breathed, shaking the boy's hand vigorously before stepping back, that hand gravitating toward her chin and happy tears in her eyes. "You boys look so handsome together!" Then, she threw her hands up in the air, hurrying from the room as she insisted, "I need pictures! Stay right there!"

Kurt laughed and turned to Puck, threading one arm around his waist. "That went better than expected. Can I call my dad in from the car?"

"Your dad is here?" Puck asked, suddenly fearing for his life again.

Kurt nodded, amusement coloring his lips and cheeks as he watched Puck's face. "When I told him Mercedes and I both found different dates, he insisted he be here to meet you."

"He's met me, like, eight different times," Puck tried to argue, but he knew it was no use when Kurt, slippery as an eel, got away and bounced out the door with a wink. "Just never as … your boyfriend," he finished to an empty room.

This was definitely a problem. Puck had to be on his best behavior, or Burt Hummel would do something like beat him up with two-foot long wrench Puck had seen in their garage, or cut his brake lines or something. Licking his dry lips, Puck found the boutonniere he'd bought Kurt, in the requested lavender, of all colors, and held it out in front of him like a shield.

Kurt came back with his dad just as Puck's mom got back to the living room. Introductions were made, pictures were taken, which Kurt had to approve of or he would delete them from the cameras and tell Puck not to smile like such an idiot, and Mr. Hummel didn't kill Puck. In fact, when Mrs. Puckerman was helping Kurt pin his boutonniere in just the right place, Mr. Hummel clapped Puck on the shoulder and shook his hand at the same time, saying, "Thanks for doing this for my kid. I know it's not easy."

"He makes it easier," Puck shrugged, disliking how close his shoulder was to his neck. One little slip, and Mr. Hummel could be choking him to death. But, the soft look in the guy's eyes and the firm, but comfortable squeeze of his hand in Puck's made the boy realize he was being stupid. Mr. Hummel was pretty cool, for an old guy. He should have expected that much from the man who raised Kurt.

"We have a problem," Puck hissed at Kurt, who was waiting on the sidelines, watching all the couples promenade into the rented Sheraton ballroom.

"What is it?" Kurt asked, afraid that this was the moment he'd been sickly anticipating all day – the moment when Puck would get cold feet and dump him, right before what was supposed to be the most magical night of his life.

"That dipwad Jacob won't announce us as a couple. He thinks I'm playing a practical joke on you."

"Of all the times for that boy to grow a conscious," Kurt sighed. Then, he had an idea. Quickly, because she was part of the Prom Court and only two couples away from being called, Kurt hurried to the front of the line and caught Quinn by the wrist, whispering into her ear, "Could you take the mic from Jacob and call Noah and me at the end of the processional? Or convince him that Puck's not trying to embarrass me?"

"You got it, Kurt," she smiled, leaning back toward her date, the scrumptiously cute Sam Evans. The guy gave Kurt a smile and a thumbs up, which Kurt could only interpret as either Quinn had told him about Puck being his date tonight, or he'd overheard Kurt's request. Either way, at this late stage, it didn't really matter.

On his way back to go stand by Puck, Kurt saw Mercedes and her date, George, the jazz band drummer, so he stopped to say, "I love what you're wearing and I will gush when I see you inside. No time!"

"I love yours, too, sugar!" she called as they marched forward and Kurt rushed toward the end of the line, nodding at Noah to get him to follow.

"Our girl's got this taken care of," he told Noah, patting the boy's shoulder and then thinking, 'Screw it,' and going in for a hug. "Love you, Noh," he said, almost wishing Puck wouldn't hear the words.

But the way he tensed up a little let Kurt know Puck had heard them. But then, Puck's hand found Kurt's chin, making him look up from his shoes. They were almost at eye-level, with Kurt just two or three inches shorter, and Puck held him there for a few, heart churning seconds, studying his eyes. Then, he kissed Kurt, in plain sight of all the couples and singles that were waiting to be called, and whispered, "I love you, too, Kurt."

The rest of the night didn't matter. Not when Kurt felt like crowing in happiness, the smile that sprung to his lips turning almost painful after just a few moments. Even when Kurt tried, it wouldn't go away and eventually, he just let it happen. He and Noah joined the end of the couples' line, arm-in-arm.

When there were just a few couples ahead of Puck and his boyfriend, names stopped being called and there was some sort of discussion and then a scuffle over the loudspeaker. Finally, Quinn's voice filled the room as she said, "Sorry about that. Our next couple is Warren Mantel and Penny Goldsmith!" Quinn paused, letting those two students enter the ballroom and clear the spotlighted dance floor before calling the next, and then the next.

Then, it was their turn.

"Our final couple of the evening is Kurt Hummel and Noah Puckerman!"

"Here we go," Kurt said under his breath, and Puck wondered how he'd gotten named as the girl of the relationship, with his name in second place. It was probably another one of Quinn's little revenge plots. Mostly things between the two of them were really friendly, especially once she found out about him dating Kurt, but every once in a while…

Puck stepped into the spotlight just half a step behind Kurt, squinting and preparing for an onslaught of jeers and insults. Conversation around the room grew a little quieter, but no one said anything. Kurt led him over to the table where Finn, Rachel, Mercedes, George, Mike and Tina were all sitting and waving. Charlie and Artie, who was apparently her date, were there too. Thank God that girl was done crushing on Puck.

Most of the jocks of their group, including Santana and Brittany, who had boy dates that they were ignoring in favor of talking to each other, and Sam, who Quinn came rushing back to as soon as she turned her microphone over to Jacob.

"So?" Kurt asked both tables. "Where's the shock? The outrage?" That was exactly what Puck had been wondering.

Rachel and Tina giggled, Finn smiled up at them, Mike and Artie shared a look, George and Charlie looked lost, Brittany and Santana ignored them, and Mercedes said, "Please, White Boy. We've all known about you guys for a while now…"

"I didn't know," Charlie spoke up sheepishly. "Why wouldn't you just tell me?"

"And the rest of the school?" Puck asked, ignoring the girl's question, pulling out Kurt's chair and looking around at how almost no one was staring before taking his own.

"It's like…" Finn tried to explain, patting Puck on the shoulder, "a secret that everyone knew about, but nobody really talked about. You know?"

"What?" Puck asked, turning to Kurt. "Did you know about this, babe?"

"No," Kurt insisted, wide-eyed and looking all around as the processional ended and food was served. "I just assumed since no one said anything…"

"Quinn has been pulling major rank all over the school," Rachel insisted. "Every time someone would notice the two of you, she'd be on them with threats and impressive scariness, like after I tried to set up Noah and Charlie. It's her you should thank."

"A dozen times over," Kurt agreed, catching Puck's hand and smiling at him in that way that Puck couldn't help but return. Puck might just have to give up his badass crown to one Quinn Fabray. She certainly deserved it more than he did.

After dinner, the dancing started, and Puck, after shedding his jacket and tie, had a great time dancing with his boyfriend and the rest of their friends. All that practicing in glee club made them really awesome dancers, compared to most of the school, and it was exhilarating being able to show off his moves, with Kurt right there next to him (or in front of, or sometimes behind, him).

Eventually, a slow song came on and Puck gathered Kurt up into his arms, holding the other boy close as they swayed together.

Look at the stars
Look how they shine for you
And everything you do.
Yeah, they were all yellow.

"Having a good time?" Puck asked, brushing Kurt's cheek with his nose affectionately.

I came along
I wrote a song for you
And all the things you do
And it was called 'Yellow'.

The shorter boy smiled, his arms behind Puck's neck squeezing tighter as their eyes and foreheads met. "Yeah," Kurt replied, his voice breathy and almost rich with emotion. "I just … I never… Thanks, Noah."

So then I took my time
Oh, what a thing to've done
And it was all yellow.

"Hey, whatever," Puck shrugged, feigning disinterest until Kurt laughed and wiped away a tear with one thumb. When he was done, Puck leaned in and kissed him, soft lips like Kurt liked and Puck had gotten used to when he realized they had a lot more together than sex.

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones
Turn into something beautiful.
D'you know? You know I love you so.
You know I love you so.

Kurt sighed into the kiss and when they broke apart, he smiled up at Puck before pulling him closer, setting his chin on Puck's shoulder. Puck felt sweaty and warm, from all the dancing, but his whole chest and the fronts of his thighs felt so much warmer at Kurt's presence. Somehow, it was the most comfortable thing in the world, like sitting in front of a fire when it's freaking cold out and you had to shovel the driveway so your mom could go to work (even though it was a snow day) and your mom told you not to light a fire in the fireplace, but you did it anyway, because you could.

I swam across,
I jumped across for you.
Oh, what a thing to do
'Cause you were all yellow.

Finn and Rachel danced past them, lost in their own little world, looking totally ridiculous because he was more than a foot taller than her. And she hadn't even worn much in the way of heels.

Oh, crap. He'd noticed Rachel's shoes! Puck had definitely spent too much time lately listening to Kurt's fashion babble, hadn't he? Sometimes he wished that talking wasn't as much of a requirement before or after sex, but then he remembered the totally awesome, hours-long conversations about big, universal questions they liked to have (yes, Puck knew some stuff – he learned what was interesting, not what the dumbass teachers taught). Those conversations made having to listen to Kurt talk about clothes and shoes and all that crap okay, in the long run.

I drew a line.
I drew a line for you.
Oh, what a thing to do
And it was all yellow.

Puck never really thought this thing with Kurt would have a long run. It started because Puck needed a friend, even if he found it in the weird gay kid, because the guy's dad was really sick and no one should have to go through that. And then, it turned into his rebound from Quinn, because even after she wasn't pregnant anymore, she didn't want to be with him. But now?

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones
Turn into something beautiful.
D'you know? For you I bleed myself dry
For you I bleed myself dry.

The lighting in the ballroom was dim and soft, with tiny, slightly brighter circles of light roaming over the dance floor, highlighting the open tilt of Kurt's perfectly groomed eyebrows, bouncing off his wet, happy eyes, drawing attention to his darker, tempting lips. Oh, yeah, Puck had it bad. He smiled and pressed kiss after kiss against Kurt's lips, trying to tell him that even if he wasn't the kind of guy that would cry, Puck was happy, and in love.

It's true.
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine for you.
Look how they shine.

Look at the stars.
Look how they shine for you
And all the things that you do.

"Alright, everyone!" Jacob Ben Israel called from the DJ's booth as the music wound down. "It's time to present the Prom Court and crown this year's King and Queen!"

The dancing stopped and everyone turned to face a set of risers that looked suspiciously to Kurt like they'd been taken from the McKinley auditorium. "Will the members of our court please approach?"

Of all the glee club members, only Quinn, Sam, Santana, and somehow Finn, were popular enough to be voted onto the court. Kurt had always dreamed about being Prom King, but he knew that would never happen, even if the school didn't seem too upset that he and Puck were dating. There had been a few looks when he and was dancing with his boyfriend, but no one had said anything, which Kurt considered a downright miracle.

Up near the front of the room, Jacob listed off all of the court members, who seemed to take prearranged places on the risers, all of them smiling for the yearbook photographer snapping picture after picture up front. "Alright, everyone! It's time to announce our Prom King, who will receive this awesome crown and mucho bragging rights!" With a greater sense of ceremony than Kurt thought the kid capable of, Jacob opened one of the envelopes in his hand and pulled out a card.

He stared at it for a few long moments before simpering up at the audience and saying, "Apparently subsequent to the court election, a write-in campaign was performed. With a clear majority of the vote, it appears that our 2011 Prom King is …" Jacob paused for effect and Kurt had to clamp down on Noah's hand to keep himself from shouting for the boy to get on with it already.

"Kurt Hummel!"



That was … that was his name!

Kurt turned to Puck to make sure he'd heard right, and his boyfriend was beaming, unlacing his hand from Kurt's and pushing him up toward the stage.

This was actually happening!

Off to his left, Mercedes shouted encouragement of some kind and whooped, but all Kurt could think about was getting onto the first step of the riser, between Jacob and the original Prom Court, some of whom did not look very pleased until Quinn glared at them. In that moment, in a patch of clarity among the hazy excitement of something this unexpected, Kurt realized that this had to be her doing. She was Queen of this school, and had made Kurt her King.

It boggled the mind.

Jacob's assistants, two of the Cheerios, set the crown on Kurt's head, squishing his hair, which he carefully tried to set to rights before Jacob handed him the mic. Crap, he was supposed to give a speech, wasn't he?

Kurt took the mic, cleared his throat, and licked his lips, pushing the crown into a better place once more as he thought about what to say. "Um … I guess the 'You like me, you really like me' speech would be a little pat," he chuckled awkwardly out at the audience, who he couldn't really see past the spotlight. "So, I'm just going to say thank you and … uh … go glee club?"

The audience laughed a little and Kurt smiled, handing the microphone back. He wanted to escape back into the darkened audience, but he knew he had to stay up there. At least Finn leaned over and patted his shoulder, whispering, "Congrats future step-brother."

"Step …?" Kurt asked, turning to really look at Finn. "Do you know something I don't?"

In response, Finn just shrugged and nodded for Kurt to pay attention as the Prom Queen was crowned. Kurt listened, but he watched Quinn, giving her a smile when she looked toward him. All the gay forums were right. It really did pay to make friends with the pretty girls…

"Now that that's been settled," Jacob continued, his voice cracking a little and his frizzy hair glowing in the light, "we'll crown our Prom Queen and have the King and Queen's dance. Here we go." The boy opened his second envelope and read it to himself before squeaking, "I don't believe it!"

The whole ballroom shuffled around in anticipation, waiting for the Jewfro to get on with it.

"Prom Queen has also been won by a write-in candidate…" He looked over to Mr. Schuester, who was one of the chaperones and asked, "Is-is this even legal?"

What? Had the teacher been elected Prom Queen? That was wrong on so many levels! And Kurt would have to dance with him and that would be just way too awkward for everyone…

But Schue just walked up to the stage, Coach Sylvester right behind him. They both read the card while Jacob held his hand over the mic. After a moment, Quinn brushed past Kurt to go speak with them in low tones. Eventually, Jacob nodded and lifted the mic back to his lips, voice cracking again as he said, "I have been informed that because of some changes that were made last year for the entire school district, which protect equality in education, the winner of the Prom Queen election is legit. McKinley High's 2011 Prom Queen is …"

Why did Jacob have to pick up this flare for the dramatic? The suspense was totally killing –

"Noah Puckerman!"

No one spoke. The entire ballroom went silent until, almost a minute later, Noah shouted, some humor in his voice, "Seriously, guys?"

Lots of people laughed as Puck grumbled his way up to the stage, smiling briefly at Kurt, to accept his tiara and the microphone, which he ripped out of Jacob's hand mock-violently.

Noah cleared his throat and grinned. "I don't know what the hell I did to you people, but thanks a lot. I really …" he turned to Kurt and asked, with the microphone still up to his mouth, "Wanna trade, babe? I know how you love a good tiara."

Kurt laughed and leaned forward, so that everyone could hear his response. "No freaking way, Noah. And if you ask me, these people know way too much about our sex life."

"Dude!" Noah complained, covering the microphone and shooting Kurt a (mock) death-glare as his cheeks pinked up under his faded tan. A bunch of people laughed, and Kurt was pleased to hear that most of it sounded light-hearted. After one last look that promised punishment, Puck uncovered the mic and said, "So, yeah. Can I dance with my King now?"

"Hit it!" Jacob cried and the DJ started the music, an acoustic guitar riff that Kurt recognized as he offered his arm to his Queen.

"My lady?"

"Shove it, Hummel," Puck growled, putting his arm around Kurt's shoulders instead of on his arm. "Let's get this over with."

"You okay?" Kurt was concerned. Puck wasn't really one to accept being feminized. He liked being a boy, even if he was sleeping with Kurt. And that tiara looked ridiculous on his near-shaven head.

"Yeah," Puck smiled, pulling Kurt close and leading him in the slow dance. Instead of just swaying, they were doing a variation of one of their glee numbers, which Kurt picked up on right away with an excited sigh. "But can I say how much I hate this song?"

My life is brilliant.

Kurt laughed, hardly paying attention to his feet anymore, now that they'd got going. "I know what you mean."

My life is brilliant.
My love is pure.
I saw an angel.
Of that I'm sure.
She smiled at me on the subway,
She was with another man.
But I won't lose no sleep on that,
'Cause I've got a plan.

"How crazy is this?" Puck asked, eyes off of Kurt for a moment as they danced, watching the people around them. "I'm not having some effed-up dream, am I?"

"I don't think so," Kurt chuckled, watching as other couples were given the go ahead to join them on the dance floor and wondering if this was what it felt like to be on the dance floor after your wedding. Except, no way in hell would he choose this song for a first dance…

You're beautiful. You're beautiful
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face in a crowded place
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.

Puck sang in Kurt's ear, over the last line, "'Cause I'll always be with you," and the shorter boy just about melted on the spot.

He lost his footing a little bit and had to catch up with Puck's gentle lead before asking him, "D'you mean that?"

Shrugging a little, Puck replied, "As much as anyone can ever mean that."

Kurt watched Puck's face for any signs that he was lying, and on him they were difficult to detect. But no, he was telling the freaking truth. Swallowing nervously, Kurt told his boyfriend, "We have a problem."

"Did…" Puck stopped dancing, his face falling. "Did you not want…?"

"No, you idiot," Kurt hissed with a smile, leaning in so he could whisper. "We have a problem because I need to have sex with you. Right now."

"Oh," Puck grinned. "That I can work with."

The King and Queen of the Junior Prom escaped the ballroom hand-in-hand, grabbing their suit jackets on the way out, and laughing when someone tried to call them back for their final yearbook pictures. Screw yearbook! Kurt decided that running away from the Prom with his boyfriend was infinitely better.

Songs used:

"Crushcrushcrush" by Paramore; "Yellow" by Coldplay; and "Beautiful" by James Blunt

I had a super-difficult time picking out that last song for the dance because my prom was ten years ago, and I haven't really kept up with pop music since then. This was the best I could do…

Please Review! It will make staying up most of the night finishing this for you people ever so much more worth it!