Title: How To Make Me Swoon, By Kurt Hummel.
Word Count: 5,596.
Summary: Kurt's lost something important that could end badly if it falls into the wrong hands - oh look! It's fallen into the wrong hands. Of course.
Disclaimer: NO, but I want Kurt. Can I please just have Chris Colfer? Please?
Author's Note: Warning! This story is borderline 'M' rating, so if you can't take the heat, please get outta my kitchen.
"Shit!" Kurt spluttered, about ready to rip clumps of his perfectly done hair from his head. Pah, like he ever would though, not because he had a 135 dollar Stetson Fisa fedora resting nicely atop his head, but because Kurt didn't spend an hour in the morning coiffing and gelling for nothing. He did however clench his fists agitatedly, a growl forming deep in his chest.
He stood for a second, contemplating whether or not he should get down on his hands and knees and look under the chairs. But...these were True Religion jeans, that he practically gave an arm and a leg for. And McKinley High School's floors were definitely not the cleanest around. Kurt detested even walking with his designer shoes on them.
But where was it? He started composing it during French, when the teacher was reviewing stuff Kurt could do in his sleep. Bored and slipping into a slumber, he decided to do something to keep his brain active. So he didn't lose it in French.
After French, Oceanography. Did he lose it then? He remembered showing it to Mercedes when the teacher wasn't looking. When he slipped it back into his folder, it could have fluttered out. But no, because he added more to it in Study Hall.
And then Glee club during activity period. He knew it was the only other place it could be, and he wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for Mercedes. If she hadn't showed up at his locker as he was shoving his books in and asked to see it again, he would've never know it had disappeared.
Back to the present. He was in the choir room, angrily scanning the area for it. Had one of the members found it and taken it with them? Not that he would care, except he totally would. He didn't want his private business aired to the world. He liked remaining a bit aloof.
Still, where could it be? It was really bothering him. God forbid someone decided to use it against him.
He threw a precarious glance at his watch. It was getting late and soon the janitors would leave and lock the doors. The school was completely abandoned, aside from maybe a few teachers who strayed behind to write tomorrow's lesson plan on the board. Kurt rolled his eyes. He needed to leave, though.
However, the thought that his list had fallen into the wrong hands haunted him.
How to make me swoon: A list by Kurt Hummel.
1. Have a cock; clearly it's what I go for. If you have this, you're already one step ahead.
PS, it'd be nice if you were good looking, masculine, and buff. Someone who will take a hit for me, defend me. Aside from looks, surprising me with something nice that relates to me is a nice route to take. Now on to step two!
"Hummel!" called out Puck, in the voice that suggested 'I'm about to slushie you'. Kurt cringed, but quietly regained his composure before whirling around.
"Noah," he said in the same tone of voice with an icy cool smile that screamed, "I don't care that you're gonna slushie me and ruin this very expensive and designer outfit, la di da..." However, to Kurt's surprise and relief, he did not spot a slushie in the hands of the smirking jock. Just a - was that a CD case?
"You like Lady Gay-gay, right?" Puck sneered in his usual Puck manner. Kurt decided he would ignore that Gay-gay remark - it wasn't worth a retort.
"She's only my favorite person on the planet, " he said without much infliction in his voice.
"Right, well, here's one of her CDs. 'Fame Monster' or some stupid shit like that," Puck said, holding the CD out towards Kurt, offering it to him. While Kurt already had this CD, he didn't feel compelled to tell the jock. Instead, all he could do was blurt out,
Puck sighed, rolling his eyes. "My little sister's had it for awhile and decided she didn't want it anymore and wanted to throw it, but my mom wouldn't let her because even though she bought it months ago, she still felt like it was wasting money to just throw it out. Anyway, she yelled at my sister so I told her I knew someone who loved that freaky artist and I'd give it to them."
"Uhm..." Kurt mumbled, looking down at his sequined converse, clicking the heels together as if that would abruptly get him out of the middle of the hallway, where he was being given a gift by Noah Puckerman. Was he dreaming? Was the bell about to ring and he was going to wake up in English with a puddle of drool the size of the Pacific on his desk?
All Kurt knew: the Earth was off it's axis today.
"Don't get all sentimental on me now," Puck snorted. "I was saving my sister a lecture about the recession and the importance of saving money."
"She didn't want it anymore?" Kurt questioned precariously, glancing up at him through a fringe of hair.
Puck shrugged. "She said she doesn't listen to it anymore." With a nod goodbye, he turned, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and sauntered off to his next class. Kurt glanced, amazed at the past few minutes of his life, at the CD he was clutching.
It still had the plastic wrapping on it. Never been opened.
2. Compliment me. I love being praised for all the hard work I put into everything, and it would be nice if every once in a while, I received compliments on it. What can I say, I need to ice my wounded ego.
"Alright!" Mr. Schuester said, clapping his hands together. "Time for the solos you prepared this week. Your challenge was to sing the most upbeat, make-you-wanna-dance song you know because some of you," he looked pointedly at one very tired looking Finn, who jumped up and tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes, "can't seem to keep your eyes awake this week. You need to get up and move and dance." He gave a little wiggle of his hips that made some of them chuckle, but most of them just blinked at him reproachfully. "Kurt, why don't you go first?"
"But Mr. Schue-" Rachel began, waving her song sheet in the air. Mercedes gave her a pointed look that said, "Sit down, diva." Rachel frowned and plopped back down, crossing her arms over the hideously tacky bunny sweater she was wearing.
Kurt stood and strutted to the center of the room, handing over the sheet music to the instrumentalists. As the music started, people began to smile, instantly recognizing the song. Then Kurt began to sing.
Girl please excuse me If I'm coming too strong
But tonight is the night we can really let go
My girlfriend's out of town and I'm all alone
Your boyfriend's on vacation and he doesn't have to know
He sang the next few lines and by the time he was halfway through the chorus, all of the Glee club was up and flaunting their moves. He began to wiggle with them, and laughed through one of his lines when Brittany grabbed him and they began an upbeat waltz around the classroom. Everyone was cheering and laughing and moving to the beat, having fun. Kurt was glad with his song choice, and finished it off with a bang, meaning he swung Brittany around and lifted her up bride-style, running her back to her seat.
Everyone cracked up at him, giving him pats on the back, thumbs ups, and encouraging smiles. Kurt turned around to face Mr. Schuester, who was smiling widely at him, a proud look in his eyes. "See!" he exclaimed. "That's what I want! You guys need to have fun! Just let go and dance and enjoy yourselves! Kurt, excellent song choice, and excellent performance. Alright, who'd like to go next?"
Rachel, of course, practically jumped out of her skin in her eagerness to be the next performer, Kurt noticed with a tiny eye roll as he returned to his seat. When he sat, Puck leaned forward - he was sitting behind Kurt - and said to him, "That was really good man. Nice performance."
Kurt looked back at him. "Are under the influence of any illegal drugs right now?" When had Noah Puckerman ever complimented him? The nicest thing he'd done before the CD incident yesterday was not call him a 'fag' as he hurled him into a dumpster.
Puck frowned. "Hell no dude. I'm just saying, it shows that you worked really hard on that. And everyone loved it."
Kurt narrowed his eyes. What the hell was going on recently? Did Puck fall over the weekend and bang his head, leaving him with momentary confusion? That could be the only explanation.
Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a, "Shhhh!" from Rachel, who glared at them before beginning her song, which was just that new Taylor Swift song. Kurt sat back in his seat, not bothering to feign enthusiasm with the rest of the class, as he simmered in his own thoughts.
3. Serenade me. I am a sucker for those cliche scenes in movies where the guy stands under the girls window waving the boom box over his head, playing her favorite song. That shit totally melts my heart.
"Puck, you say you've prepared a song for the class?" Mr. Schuester said, looking at the jock who was tuning his guitar. He looked up and shrugged.
"Just something I've been wanting to sing."
"Alright, the floor is yours," he said, gesturing to the stool waiting for Puck to plant his behind on it. He gripped his guitar and walked down, Kurt's eyes trailing after him the entire time. He couldn't help but think that the famous, egotistical Noah Puckerman looked...nervous. What was with him this week?
He began strumming, and soon the band joined along. Then he was singing.
I never thought I'd die alone
I laughed the loudest who'd have known
I traced the cord back to the wall
No wonder it was never plugged in at all
Kurt followed his voice's ups and downs, moving his body with them, feeling Puck's words move through him. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't kind of had an attraction towards Puck. 'Kind of' being used very loosely. That boy kicked Kurt's hormones into overdrive (he had seen him strut about the locker room after all, and he was, erm, well endowed). But he was known for being the straightest guy in the school, so it's not like Kurt stood a chance. Besides, Puck was an imbecile.
Or he was, before this week. What was wrong with him, Kurt still wondered.
His eyes bore into Puck, imagining what was going through his head. This song was probably directed at Quinn, but he wasn't looking at her. In fact, he was looking at...Kurt? Why was he looking at Kurt? Puck's eyes stared right at his own, and - holy mother of God, did he just wink? At Kurt? What in the name of Dior was going on?
Not only was Puck looking at Kurt, let alone winking at him, he was also smiling around the words he sang, almost as if he was...serenading Kurt.
That's when the metaphorical light bulb above Kurt's head switched on. It hit him all at one - the CD, the compliment, the serenading. It wall made sense now. Puck had found his list and he was messing with him. Either that, or his actions were scarily identical to first three points on said list. Kurt snorted, because that seemed unlikely.
By the time Puck had finished his song, Kurt was the only one who didn't applaud. He was too busy shaking with rage.
4. Want to know the easiest way to get my ass? Stand the freak out. I won't be able to tell you apart in a sea of a million, so try to make yourself noticeable. I stand out, clearly, and need someone who'll stand out with me.
Kurt marched angrily into the school, pushing at anyone who got in his way. Not that people were exactly straying toward him - with his bright orange suit in honor of Halloween - because people at McKinley feared difference. He looked great though. He even went as far to put a tacky blinking pumpkin on his lapel, and wear a black top hat that meshed perfectly with the black button up he was wearing. However, his outfit wasn't as fun to flaunt as it should have been, not with everything that was going on.
People's eyes followed him, then looked away quickly, as if staring for too long would infect them with a case of well-dressed. Kurt didn't care what they were thinking. He was lost in his own head.
If Puck was following the list - which Kurt knew he was - then he would be dressed extraordinarily tacky today. That was part of the reason Kurt chose his orange suit. He wanted to out-do him, so technically, it would cancel out Puck's outfit and show him that Kurt was not affected by his little prank.
Kurt even had Mercedes wear something stand out-ish. He'd texted her everything the minute he'd gotten home yesterday, and she was happy to help him show Puck that his efforts were worthless, that Kurt was no gullible man.
And as Kurt approached her locker, he was thrilled to see her decked out in a bright red dress shirt with sparkling silver pants. Oh yes, they would definitely put Puck's outfit to shame.
By the time the day was over, Kurt hadn't seen Puck at all. Hadn't even passed him in the hallway. Still, he went on to Glee to check out his 'stand out' clothing.
"Wow Puck, you look fancy," he heard Rachel's obnoxious voice before he entered the class. "Oh hi Kurt. Nice outfit," she said, spotting him walking in the door. Puck turned around to face Kurt, and Kurt's jaw dropped down to his shoes.
Puck was wearing a standard dress suit: white button up, black jacket, and pressed black pants. On top of his head was a plain black fedora, nothing designer, Kurt noted. Something they'd sell in the local mall in a typical teen store. But, aside from the fact that it wasn't bright and exotic, Puck did stand out. More than Kurt ever hoped he would.
He looked...sexy, amazing, do-able, fucking hot. Kurt couldn't find the words, but he could see how well Puck stood out. Even Kurt and Mercedes's outfits combined were nothing, nothing, compared to fancy red-carpet Puck. Kurt looked like a try-hard. Puck looked like he had conquered number four without even having to try.
"Fancy get-up, bro," Puck said, his eyes doing a long, drawn-out sweep over Kurt. With his back turned to the rest of the Glee club, Puck was able to get away with checking out Kurt and smirking seductively without anyone questioning him.
Kurt's mouth went bone dry. Still, he managed to scoop up his ego and stutter through his next sentence. "Well thank you, you too." He even managed to inflict boredom in his voice, almost as if Puck's outfit wasn't worth a compliment. He worried his dumbfound expression gave him away though.
The Puck dragged his tongue slowly along his lower lip and winked at Kurt, and Kurt thought he was going to pass out. He shuffled furiously to his seat, head bowed with a bright red blush fixed on his cheeks.
This was bad. This was really, really bad.
5. Never ever ever call me 'Baby'. I hate it, hate it, hate it. If you must know why, it's because when I hear 'Baby', I think of Jennifer Grey's character in Dirty Dancing, which make me think of her co-star, Patrick Swayze, which makes me think of that terribly sad death of his, and that makes me terribly sad. See that awful chain?
"It's going to be hard for him to do number five," Kurt babbles on to Mercedes, as she tries to stuff her history book into her bag. "It's not like he ever called me baby on a regular basis, so the fact the he's going to just call me 'Kurt' is merely nothing. Which means he might just give up." Kurt laughed nervously, subconsciously rubbing the back of his neck.
"Kurt, when has Puck ever given up?" Mercedes chided, giving him a look, and Kurt groaned, stomping his foot like he was about to throw a tantrum.
"Mercedes, my life is in turmoil because I got bored in French and made that stupid fucking list!" Mercedes winced, and Kurt knew why. He had never dropped the F bomb, ever. It was unrefined, undignified, lacked class. Kurt built himself around having class.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but how is your life in turmoil?" Mercedes asked apprehensively.
"Because," Kurt hissed, lowering his voice to a stage whisper, "I think I might be falling for him!"
"Kurt!" Mercedes gasped, slapping him on the arm. He clutched it and whined loudly, hoping she didn't leave a bruise (he always was wounded quite easily). "You cannot fall for the biggest player in school! He's just messing with you for some sick experiment of his. Maybe he'll kiss you, maybe he'll sleep with you. But in the end he's always going to go back to the females!"
"Hey Aretha," Puck said, walking past them. He wore a white suit today, with a black tie and the same black fedora he wore the day before. Kurt's mouth watered. Nothing so simple ever looked so...sexy. "Hey bay-Kurt," he corrected himself as he brushed by, wearing his trademark smirk, backpack slung lazily on his shoulder. "Kurt," he said again, before he turned into his classroom.
Kurt's heart stopped. Now he was just teasing, tormenting. Dressing like that, and flirting with him, and smirking so freaking sexily. It was too much.
Kurt gulped and looked at Mercedes. "Uh-oh," was all she said.
6. Touch me. I mean, just find someway to have contact with me. A casual brush with a little smile, holding of the hands. Stuff like that lets me know you like me, so don't just act like stone-cold nothing.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Kurt muttered to himself, hanging his head in shame. "Why did I put that on the list? I hate casual touches!" He was talking to his reflection in the boys bathroom mirror, trying to get a grip. Glee club practice was going on right now, and he hoped that by being late, he would get the only seat left. And with any luck, that seat would be nowhere near Puck.
Kurt sighed at his reflection. He chose the best outfit in his closet, but that didn't distract people from seeing the large purple half-moons under his eyes. Not even the heaping goop of concealer he put on disguised them. He wished Puck wasn't getting in his head this badly.
He just needed to take a deep breath, collect his ego, and march into that class like he owned it. Ignore anyone who dared try and get to him (AKA Noah Puckerman), and hold his head up high. Yeah, he could do that. He would've even look at Puck, in that gorgeous blue cashmere sweater of his, paired off with a pair of gray skinnies. Not exactly the most stand out-ish outfit ever, but he paired it off with a gray and blue 'newsboy' hat.
Kurt wanted to shove him in the nearest janitor's closet and ravish him.
Gah, he splashed his face with cold water again. He needed to snap out of it. Puck was just playing him, trying to make him feel things that didn't exist. Then, when he knew Kurt had fallen, he would rip everything out from under his feet. And Kurt didn't want to be the one that people looked back at and said, "He was one of Puckzilla's victims."
He looked down at his watch. He had to get going, because the line between fashionably late and oh-crap-Mr.-Schue's-gonna-freak late was beginning to thin. He fixed his hair, slapped a smirk onto his face, and rushed off to the class.
"Kurt, you're late," Mr. Schuester chastised as the devil himself flounced into the class room, looking nothing like how he felt. He looked confident - he felt insecure and confused, and oh shit, Puck was staring right at him. Not just staring, but checking him out. Kurt's heart fluttered.
No, no, no, no, no!
"Sorry Mr. Schue, I had to take care of something. But I'm here now." His eyes scanned the room quickly and he wanted to kick himself. Oh shit, oh complete fucking shitty shit shit, he thought. This would happen to me.
Kurt's life: everything being against him at all times.
To put it in simpler words; the only seat left in the class was directly next to Puck.
Fuck! he thought again.
"Kurt," Mr. Schuester said, his voice bursting Kurt's little thought bubble. "Take your seat."
"Oh," Kurt stammered, a blush finding its way to his cheeks. "Right." He hurriedly scuttled to his seat, sitting down with his back straight and his butt teetering precariously on the edge. This made for an easy exit, should he need one. He wasn't stupid - he knew what was next on the list, and he knew Puck was going to execute it.
Mr. Schuester began talking about how they really needed to shape up and work on their choreography, and how they still needed a few more members to make New Directions an unstoppable force. All Kurt could focus on was Puck - he stared at him through his peripherals, watching his eyes drill holes into Kurt.
Kurt tried to ignore his stare, but it was becoming hard to, so he swung his head around and demanded in a harsh whisper, "What? Why are you staring at me?"
Puck leaned up and - oh shit, here it was - placed his hand on Kurt's thigh, his thumb rubbing slow circles on it. He looked around, what if someone was watching them?, but he saw everyone's eyes on Mr. Schuester. Kurt and Puck had all the privacy in the world.
"You look tired," Puck said, smiling shyly. Kurt's cock gave a twitch, and he cursed at himself mentally. That's what he needed, to get an erection all because Puck's beautifully calloused, warm, strong hand was resting leisurely on his thigh.
"I am tired," Kurt said through his teeth. "Tired of your teasing. I know you found my list, Puck. But your pranks are to no avail."
Puck frowned. "Pranks?" When Kurt just raised an eyebrow, Puck continued with, "Kurt, I'm not pranking you." His hand slid further up Kurt's thigh.
"Oh, you're not?" Kurt sneered. "Then why are you groping my leg? Why have you been dressing differently and why did you sing to me and why did you wink at me and give me that CD and why are you screwing with my head and making me fall for you?" Puck opened his mouth to speak but Kurt couldn't stop, not when he was on a role. "I'll tell you why - I lost that stupid list I made and you found it and decided to mess with my head by doing everything on it!"
"Kurt," Puck whispered, removing his hand. Artie threw a glance back at the two of them, raised an eyebrow, but dropped it and turned forward to continue listening to Rachel's song. When did Rachel even start singing? "Can we talk about this after Glee? There's some stuff you need to know."
"I think I know enough," he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking forward.
"That's exactly it. You think you know. But you don't. Will you please just let me explain after Glee?"
Kurt hesitated. He sounded genuine, but he still wore that trademark smirk of his, the smirk that made every girl cream her panties and the smirk that made Kurt hesitant to trust him. This could all be a part of his plan - Puck was good at pretending. Kurt decided in the end that he wanted to see how far Puck would go to pull one over on him, so he said a curt, "Yes," and ignored him for the rest of practice.
7. Try something really simple: just tell me. All these hints will let me know that you like me, but I'd like to hear you say it. Hinting only works for so long, you know.
By the time Mr. Schuester was dismissing everyone, Kurt had changed his mind and changed it back at least two billion times. He was stuck on, "Leave, just get to your truck and get the hell out." And that's exactly what he planned on doing. As soon as Mr. Schuester said, "Guys go home and choose your songs for this week's challenge," Kurt was jumping up and getting ready to make a mad-dash out.
"Kurt!" Puck called, right as he was half-way out the door. A few stragglers - like Santana or Brittany - turned back to watch but decided by the fixed look of annoyance on Puck's face that he was probably just going to drag Kurt to the nearest dumpster and throw him in, and they didn't want to be around to see that.
As soon as everyone else had gone, though, Puck's face relaxed and he began to speak. "Kurt-"
"Listen 'Puckzilla'," Kurt sneered, his face cold and cruel. "I don't want you wasting your breath trying to convince me of something that isn't true. So whatever story you have, drop it. It's not going to make me think any differently of you."
"So what do you think of me?" Puck asked, looking like he was ready to pounce on Kurt. Kurt swallowed nervously.
"I think you're an ignoramus who became bored and decided to use innocent Kurt Hummel's little list against him in a pathetic attempt to make him 'swoon'. Well the joke's on you, pal!" Kurt's eyes followed Puck as he began to walk slow circles around him. Kurt's heart gave a little throb. Was Puck going to beat the shit out of him?
Fuck, he shouldn't have said that.
"Is that what you think?" Puck questioned.
Kurt hesitated. "...Yes."
Puck closed in on him, his face mere inches from Kurt's own. Kurt gulped, and tried to back up but Puck laid a firm hand right on Kurt's...ass. Oh sweet mother of God, his hand was on Kurt's ass and it was gripping it so nicely. Kurt could have still moved then, but he lost the function of his legs. "You're wrong," Puck breathed, his words caressing Kurt's mouth.
"Am I?" Kurt shot back, though his voice was quivering and weak and he didn't sound convincing even to his own ears.
"Yes, quite. Though you're right about one thing." Oh fuck, no he wasn't. Puck's hand was now moving on Kurt's ass, like he was giving it a soothing rub. Don't get hard, don't get hard, Kurt screamed at himself in his head. "I did find your list. But I'm not pranking you."
"Have you ever thought that maybe I like you?"
Kurt burst into a fit of laughter, bending over to hold his stomach. Puck's hand left his ass, thankfully, and Kurt continued laughing. "You m-mean to tell me th-that the biggest ladies' man in the school l-likes me, the school gay."
"Whatever don't believe me."
Kurt's laughs died down, and silence fell over the two of them. Puck didn't move, he just continued staring at Kurt, his eyes boring into him. Kurt stared back, holding his ground. It was all a prank, all a silly little prank-
He gasped in surprise as Puck's lips came down on his own. His whole body betrayed him, as Puck began to back Kurt up until he hit the wall. Kurt let him. The kiss was hard and rough and the first time either of them had kissed a boy. It was a lot different than kissing Brittany, Kurt had concluded. For one, Puck didn't have root beer flavored lip gloss on.
And his body was pressed against Kurt's, so that Kurt could feel the outline of his muscles. Every line, every curvature of Puck's was against Kurt's own body, and he couldn't get enough. His hands entwined around Puck's neck and he opened his mouth to let him in.
Puck's hands explored everywhere, running over body parts no one else had touched before (AKA, Kurt's growing erection). Kurt gasped deliciously at the feeling of it all. His body was on fire, and he couldn't get enough of it. He wanted moremoremore.
Then that stupid little bugger called his conscience yelled loud and clearly at him that Puck was only pranking him, and this was a part of his clever ruse. He could feel Puck's need for him pressed against his thigh. Prank or no prank, though, Puck wanted it too.
So? his conscience quipped. The kid's a man whore, he's trying to get in your pants then bail. It's! A! Prank!
Kurt pulled away, but in doing so, his head hit the wall behind him and he let out a 'youch' of pain. Puck opened his eyes, drunk with lust and momentarily confused. Kurt let go of him, and pushed weakly against his chest. He felt drained, like he'd thrown all his energy into that kiss and now he needed a recharge.
"Still think I'm pranking you?" Puck said, grinding his hips into Kurt's own. Kurt groaned loudly at the spike of pleasure that hit his lower region.
"Ye-nnnngh God!" He said, as Puck did it again. "Yes," he said breathlessly.
Puck backed away from him. "I like you, Kurt. Wasn't that the last one on the list? Admittance. Well, here I am-" he raised his voice to a yell, "-I, Noah Puckerman, have the biggest and silliest school-girl crush on Kurt Hummel."
Kurt's heart did a flip. Maybe he was being sincere. Would he really go this far for one little prank?
"I believe you," Kurt whispered, and Puck's face lit up at the simple words. He grinned ecstatically and held his hand out to Kurt's. Kurt took it and they began to walk out of the school, to the parking lot.
So, if he was pranking Kurt, Kurt could enjoy it for a little bit, right?
But Kurt knew, he just knew, that Puck did like him. He smirked to himself - I, Kurt Hummel, have managed to turn the school's biggest sex king into a romantic sap. I deserve a pat on the back.