Disclaimer - Don't own it.
Summary - In which Kurt finally returns home and Puck nearly goes crazy. Purt. Set after high school.
Rated T - For obvious reasons. Swearing, sexual content, the works. PG-13 as of now, but...
Rating subject to change. ;)
Just a little project I started...Review, please.
p.s. the text in italics are memories, if you couldn't figure that out. :)
Kurt was coming home.
Noah nearly choked on his sandwich when he overheard Burt Hummel bring up the casual subject up to other mechanic.
"…Broadway stuff for the past five years. He's coming home tomorrow." Burt was wiping his hands on a rag, surveying the Mercedes (Ha, the irony, Noah grumbled in his head) that he was taking a break from.
"You haven't seen your kid in five years?" The mechanic surprised voice was easy to catch. Noah had suddenly lost his ravaging appetite. He dropped his sandwich in the trashcan behind him.
Burt let out a barking laugh. "Nah, Kurt's a little protective about what I eat and such, so he checks up on me. Usually he flies me out to New York. You know how he is."
The mechanic must have nodded, because his answer never reached Puck's ears.
Noah knew how Kurt was. How he hated Lima, how he'd do anything to steer clear of the town, even if that meant flying his father out to New York every three months.
That's why Noah never saw him again after the summer. Even before graduation, he had his bags packed. He stayed for a few weeks after, but he was gone before July.
Noah felt his heart, typically dormant, twitch suddenly.
He sighed. This was going to be one hell of a weekend.
When he woke up on his couch (he hadn't had the energy to pull himself all the way to his tiny bedroom) the next morning, he wondered if it would just be easier to call in sick and hole up inside his apartment until Kurt went back to New York.
Then again, rent was due in three days.
"Puckerman, is that...Colgate on your tee shirt?"
"No." He glanced down. Definitely Crest. Burt chuckled and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Listen; drink some coffee before you start on the Benz, alright? You look like you barely slept at all."
He had gotten sleep; it was the dreams that kept him from being restful. Puck poured himself a NASCAR mug full of black coffee and drank it all in one swallow.
Filling his lungs with cool air, he marched toward the bathroom to change.
This was going to be one hell of a day.
The tool in his hand slipped and cut a thin line down his index finger. He wiped the blood on his navy cover-alls.
Hummel's voice was so high. Puck laughed for hours after the kid squeaked when his perfect hair was messed up by an angry gust of autumn wind.
He could hit notes that the girls in Glee couldn't. When he laughed, it sounded like someone hitting one of those triangle instruments over and over. Puck liked the sound.
He didn't like the sound of Kurt yelling at him, though. Especially when Puck knew he had done something wrong.
He loved when he lowered his voice, when it came out like a sexy growl. He loved when Kurt moaned into his kisses, when he mewled because Puck had managed to press all the right buttons.
Puck kind of loved everything about Kurt's voice.
Reality. He needed to be in reality.
Noah lifted his hazel eyes, away from the his bleeding finger, and found the owner of the most unusual voice that he would ever hear.
Stand a mere five yards away, one hand poised on his hip in a such a familiar way that Noah wanted to laugh, Kurt Hummel smiled. It was that half smile, the one that pulled only half of his mouth upward, and Puck felt himself start to melt.
He hoped just it wasn't visible.