A/N: This is my first fanfic for the Gleedom xD I wrote it while listening to Baby It's Cold Outside. The irony.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. If I did, I'd be on it. I'D TOTALLY BE ON IT! :)
Puck was the only one there. It was very difficult for him, because he had no idea how to comfort someone. He didn't comfort. Nor was he comforted. He was like a rock. A strong, sexy, badass rock. Nearly dead inside. But apparently not dead enough not to feel sympathy. So, although he hated to admit it, he'd comforted Kurt when he'd needed it.
Because he was the only on there.
Kurt had gone to the boy's locker room before the football practice. He'd needed to speak to Finn about Friday dinner. They were planning on making something together that night for their parents. Both Carole and Burt would be home later than usual, so they'd decided to prepare something extra special. Well, Kurt would do all the cooking and Finn would watch and be a terrible "back seat" cooker.
"Just don't forget to buy the low fat, unflavoured yoghurt." Kurt said, talking to his soon-to-be step brother as if he weren't able to comprehend a single word he would say.
"Yeah, Kurt, I know." Finn said. "You've told me five times now. Low fat, unflavoured yoghurt. Got it."
"Good, good, " he breathed a sigh of relief. "Now go on, I think the jocks are getting jumpy for their quarterback."
"I don't know what that means."
"Neither do I," said Kurt. "Get out there!"
Finn grabbed his helmet from his locker and jogged out of the locker room.
Kurt made his way to leave, but was caught by a big hand on his shoulder.
"Hey faggot, liking all the dicks you're seeing?" Karofsky's voice boomed in his ear.
"Actually, Karofsky, you're standing behind me. I can't see you. Are you implying anything?"
"Shut up," and Kurt was slammed hard against a wall of lockers. "We don't need your gay in the locker room, Hummel."
"I just had to talk to Finn."
"Crushing on Finn, huh?"
"Oh for the love of God, Karofsky, he's going to be my brother soon. I got over him a very long time ago!"
Instead of saying anything else, Karofsky slammed Kurt against the lockers sending a sharp pain up Kurt's spine.
"Don't be so fucking smart, Hummel. Get the fuck out of here!"
"I would if I could, Karofsky," Kurt said, his voice tight as he held back tears. "I so would if I could."
One more slam against the lockers and Karofsky was running out to the field.
Kurt slid, defeated to the floor, crumpling into a heap of tears. This hadn't been as bad as it could have been. It hadn't been as bad as he'd taken before. But he was so tired of trying to be strong. He was so tired of just ignoring all that he could. He never really ignored it, of course. He'd told people, but there wasn't anything they could do. There never was. So, he cried. On the floor of the boy's locker room, Kurt cried with all he had.
Whimpering, he reached his arm to his back and tried to feel the growing bruise on his flesh. It was tender and in pain. He pulled his hand away and held it against his heart, feeling it beat fast from the fear.
Puck was late. He'd gotten into the habit of being late, because he skipped most of his classes and tended to go to McDonald's during last period. He always ended up back at school late for football practice. He was sure, everyone else had gotten used to it now too.
He walked into the empty locker room and looked around. Yes, it definitely was empty. Puck stripped as he walked to his locker, jumping and bouncing around to get his shoes off.
Now, only clad in his boxers and wife beater (Oh, come on, that's what they're called), he heard something coming from around the corner. Crying. Crying? Yeah, yeah that was crying.
He made his way around to the other line of lockers and looked down.
Yeah, that was Kurt crying with his life on the floor of the boy's locker room.
Puck wasn't sure what to do. He was internally freaking out. He knew he didn't want to just leave him there. He couldn't do that. Not to Kurt. So, the comforting came in. Well, Kurt sort of forced it upon him.
The crying boy sniffed and looked up.
"Yeah, Kurt, what the Hell happened?" He said, still standing.
"Ka-Ka-Ka-" Kurt barely got out.
"Karofsky," Puck finished for him.
Kurt nodded and hung his head against his knees. "I can't fucking do this anymore," he said, bursting into another batch of uncontrollable tears.
Puck sat down, and put his arms around Kurt.
"Let it out," he whispered into the smaller boy's hair. "I think that's what you should do."
"Everyone just says suck it up," Kurt sniffed. "That's what you'd say, I'm sure."
"Fuck that," Puck exclaimed. "When my sister gets pissed off she cries for hours. It's annoying, but after all that she feels a lot better. I don't think you're supposed to hold it in."
"Isn't that what you do?"
"Naw," Puck laughed. "I throw kids into dumpsters."
Kurt tensed in Puck's arms.
"Dude, calm down," Puck said, and found that he was rubbing Kurt's arms, trying to get him to loosen up. "When's the last time I dumpster dived you?"
Kurt said nothing. He relaxed a bit, but tears still came.
"I know you want to hear that it'll get better. Karofsky will come to his senses, and all that crap, but," Puck's voice was sad, "to be honest, that isn't really true, is it? I mean, I want to tell you that it'll get better. I really do, cos, I like you Kurt. You're really nice and talented and shit, but the best I could do is kill Karofsky."
Kurt perked up and looked into Puck's eyes. "Could you?"
"No, I am NOT going back to juvie. And I may be all aggressive and badass, but I'll never kill someone."
"I bet you could get away with it," Kurt mumbled, bawling into Puck's chest.
"I couldn't get away with stealing an ATM, I don't think I could get away with a murder," Puck smiled. "I wouldn't know what to do with the body."
"Dumpster dive it."
Puck laughed and the vibrations from his chest sent shivers through Kurt's body. The feeling of laughter from someone else was amazing. He smiled.
"Don't kill him," Kurt sighed, tears ceasing. "I don't think I could handle knowing you did it for me."
"It wouldn't be for you, he's an asshole. He just deserves it."
"But you would do it for me."
"Yeah, but in the most badass way possible."
"What with like a water gun filled with napalm?"
"That might be fun."
"You could stab him with an ice pick."
"You really do have a flare for the dramatic."
"I never expected you to say 'flare'."
"I never expected you to think up ways of how to kill people."
"I read a lot of murder mysteries."
"What like...Agatha Christie?"
"You've read her?" Kurt said, utterly surprised.
"I'm not big on reading. My nana reads them." Puck said. "Maybe I could kill him with something like she would have written about."
"That'd be cyanide."
"I dunno what that is, but it sounds fruity."
"Still an ignorant bastard, I see," Kurt said, but he chuckled quietly. "but fruity, yes. You can get cyanide from apple seeds."
"There's poison in apples?" Puck's eyes widened, and decided to stop eating apples.
"Well, in the seeds. You have to get a lot of them to boil, though."
"I don't have the patience to eat that many apples to kill someone."
"Maybe arsenic would be easier," Kurt thought out loud.
"What's that...rat poison?"
"Woah, I was totally kidding!" Puck laughed. "Point 1 for Puckzilla."
"We have a point system?"
"I'm badass, I give myself points."
"And so far you've only accumulated 1 point?"
"Don't make me go Karofsky on you, Hummel," Puck teased. "You have seen my guns."
"I'm right up against them actually," Kurt smirked, finally feeling his tears dry. "They're not bad."
Suddenly, there was that slightly awkward moment, in which Kurt realized that Puck didn't seem to mind that he was holding THE gay kid, dare he think it, lovingly against his chest.
Kurt sat up and pushed himself away from Puck's grasp.
"Thanks," he whispered.
"I couldn't just leave you." Puck said, honestly, and he wiped away a tear from Kurt's cheek with his thumb. "I might be a jerk, but I'm not heartless."
"I know, " Kurt smiled, and took Puck's hand in his, so it wouldn't fall away from his face. "Thank you."
"Badasses are good at comforting too!" Puck exclaimed.
"You weren't too bad, I guess."
"Two points to Puckzilla," Puck said, raising eyebrow.
"I'll be nice and give you ten," Kurt said. "You of all people, shouldn't be able to make me feel better."
"I think it was the talking about ways to murder over weight football players that made you feel better."
"You did start up that topic, Puck."
Puck seemed to tighten his grip on Kurt's hand, realizing how soft they were. Nice, he thought, that moisturizing shit he's always talking about really pays off.
"You're hands are soft," Puck said, without realizing how out loud he'd actually said it.
Puck couldn't help but wonder if Kurt's face was soft too. It had to be. He moisturized his face too, right?
Oh yeah, yeah he definitely did, Puck thought as he raised his hand back up to Kurt's cheek. He hadn't been able to tell through the tears before, but now, now it was so soft. He dropped Kurt's hand and ran his index finger down the slope of Kurt's white nose. Kurt's breathing seemed to stop when Puck's finger came down to his lips.
Puck expected Kurt's lips to be sticky from lipgloss or something equally feminine that he'd tasted on girls' lips before; but Kurt's lips were soft like the rest of his face, like his hands.
"I didn't wear lipgloss today," Kurt whispered.
"I can tell," Puck also whispered, finding it hard to speak louder when Kurt's voice was so quiet. An unspoken rule wasn't it? Whisper when whispered to. "You're so...soft."
"I try," Kurt said, moving his hand to Puck's knee.
"I just...I want..." Puck was losing himself. He'd lost the badass. He's lost so much to the back of his mind, that now he was just a confused boy stumbling over his words. He moved in closer to Kurt, which was quite difficult as they were already incredibly close. "I need to..."
Kurt understood. He wasn't sure what to do though. He seemed to feel whatever the hell it was that Puck was feeling as well.
They weren't themselves. They were unguarded and uncaring of anything in the world.
Puck's hand moved further down to Kurt's neck and made its way to his chest. It settled on the top button of his shirt. He fiddled with it, suddenly finding himself aggravated by clearly not being able to undo it with one hand.
Kurt did it for him. And the next one too. Soon, his shirt was open and Puck got both his hands now onto Kurt's chest. Soft. Very soft. Puck smiled as he just let his hands stay in their spot on Kurt's chest.
"I want..." he said again.
"Me too," Kurt hardly got out before Puck's lips were on his.
Kurt kissed back, bringing his arms up around Puck's neck and held on tightly.
"Thank you," Kurt gasped between kisses.
Puck suddenly pulled away, "For what?"
"For making me feel better."
"I'm still badass right?" Puck asked, genuinely worried.
"Yeah, you're still badass," Kurt laughed and kissed Puck again.
Puck shifted his lips down to Kurt's neck and sucked gently on the soft, white skin.
"Well, this is weird." Kurt observed.
Puck pulled back again, looking shocked. "I'm very good at this, don't you dare say this is weird."
"No, that's not weird. That's great, it's just weird that I'm making out with you."
"Yeah, that is pretty weird," Puck furrowed his eyebrows and sat back against the lockers. "It's good though."
"I'm going to kill Karofsky someday," Puck practically growled.
"I know," Kurt smiled and laced his fingers with Puck's. "In a really badass way."
"And a dumpster dive."
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