Chapter 3 – Seven Minutes in Pummel Heaven
Word spread around school pretty quickly the next day. Karofsky had been caught trespassing in a restricted room of the school. "He tried to say he'd been kidnapped and locked in there," Santana told Puck during lunch, "but Coach Sue insists that her room was locked from the inside and she had to kick the door down to get in there."
"Wow," Puck nodded, watching how Santana's eyes followed Finn across the cafeteria. "So, does he get expelled now, or what?"
"Well," Santana replied, taking a bite of her salad as she tore her eyes away from Finn, who sat down by Sam and Artie at few tables away, "breaking into Coach's 'second office' would just have gotten the creep a warning, but then Figgins found this knife with blood all over it in Karofsky's locker. It looks like he was gearing up to be a serial killer or something. He's definitely expelled and Becky told me that Mr. Karofsky is checking Dave into the psych ward at Dayton General."
"Sweet!" Puck cried, taking a big bite of his cheeseburger so he wouldn't give away how unsurprised he was. "And once it's all official and Karofsky's gone for good, someone's gonna tell Hummel, right?"
"I'll make sure Finn does it," the girl purred, getting up from beside Puck and leaning in toward the giant so she could whisper in his ear. Sitting at the table between Puck's and Finn's, Rachel looked like she was about to vomit and cry and break out into song all at once. Good thing she wasn't Puck's problem anymore. He had bigger fish to make out with ... or something like that.
Kurt caught up to Puck just outside the Seven-Eleven after the final football practice before winter break. "I know you did it," the boy said, following Puck into the store and through the aisles. "I just don't know why."
"Can't a reformed convict do something morally questionable for a selfless reason?" Puck asked, picking out his favorite flavor of dip and heading toward the slushie station before realizing it was fucking freezing out and going for the coffee instead. "Not that I'm confirming or denying anything, dude."
"Was it just to get me back on the team?" Kurt asked, getting around Puck and blocking his way to the coffee. "Tell me, Puckerman!"
The force of Kurt's words sent a little shiver down Puck's spine and made him smirk. "Yeah, sure, man. I just want our team to win, because the Puckerone is not a loser. Whatever it takes, you know?"
Kurt nodded and stepped aside, letting Puck get his coffee and following him up to the register as he checked out. Then, when Kurt followed him to his car, Puck turned around and smiled, "I know you can't get enough of me, Hummel, but what are you doing?"
"Did you mean it?"
God, the dude was so effeminate he even sounded like a girl, with that inane, confusing question. "Did I mean what?" Puck asked as he got into the piece of crap car his mom was letting him drive after he wrecked her Volvo. According to her, he should be glad he wasn't, "walking to school in the snow, uphill, both ways, Noah!"
"Number three," Kurt said, holding the door so Puck couldn't close it. Well, he could, but someone's fingers would probably get crushed in the struggle. At Puck's confused look, Kurt rolled his eyes and said, "In the list of reasons to go 'Death Star' on Karofsky. Did you mean number three, or were you just teasing me?"
Shrugging, Puck replied, "A little bit of both," and pried on his door gently until Kurt let go. He smiled as he drove away, knowing the first rule of getting someone to fall for you was leaving them wanting more. Not that he wanted Kurt to fall in love with him or anything. No, Kurt just had to like him enough to agree to make out with him. When Puck found out once and for all whether fooling around with a girly dude was better than fooling around with a dude-ly girl, he'd weigh his options from there.
"Why are you following me, Kurt?" Puck asked as the guy trailed behind him after glee club practice, already knowing the answer. It was a new year, Kurt was back at McKinley, and Rachel was starting to go psycho getting the New Directions ready for Regionals. Puck had seen Kurt a few times in passing when he visited Finn's house, but he deliberately avoided being alone with the shorter guy. Once again, there was a method to Puck's madness – making Kurt frustrated and mad with him before starting something. It was hotter that way. "Ready to ride the Puckerman Express?"
Kurt didn't say anything, but looked down past his tight-ass black skinny jeans to his shoes, leaning against the lockers as Puck opened his and grabbed his jacket and his numchucks. "C'mon, dude," Puck smirked as he slammed the locker shut and shrugged into his jacket, putting the weapon in his pocket for practice later, "you gotta be more badass than that!" Leaning in, Puck whispered in the boy's ear, "If I wanted a chick, I'd be with Santana right now. Man up, Kurt."
Kurt's eyes went comically wide and Puck snickered as he clapped Kurt on the shoulder, turned away from the guy, and headed down the hallway to go home. If Kurt wasn't willing to get a little pushy about what he wanted, Puck would have to look around for another girly dude. Sure, he could just go back to hooking up with Santana, but Puck was sort of fixated on this new need he had – to be thrown around and held down by someone with soft lips and a high voice, and Santana just wasn't cutting it so far.
Puck had thought about trying to convince Lauren Zizes to make out with him again, but having to go explain that he wanted to make out with her without looking at her was kind of humiliating and mean. Besides, she was always hanging out with that trout-mouth, Jacob, who would embarrass Puck even further by posting the conversation on his blog for the world to read. See, this was why as a general rule, Puck didn't pursue chicks. He laid out their options and waited for them to come to him. It had worked pretty well so far and it looked like it was starting to work on Kurt too, since the guy was following Puck out to his car.
Puck threw his shit on the floor of the backseat and closed the car door again, turning to face Kurt. He kept dithering, taking one step forward and one step back, which was so not badass. Had that Dalton place taken all of Kurt's fire along with his dance moves and 'fabulous' clothes? Okay, something had to be done about this. Quickly, Puck shot out both hands and caught Kurt's wrists, pulling the boy closer so he could growl softly, "If you want something from me, lady, you gotta speak up."
Finally getting mad, Kurt twisted his arms out of Puck's grasp, saying, "Screw you, Puckerman! If you ever call me a girl again, I'll-" Kurt seemed to lose the specificity of his threat, so he settled on shoving Puck back against the car.
Smirking, Puck's breath came a little short as he groaned, "Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout, Kurt!"
To encourage the kid, Puck shoved Kurt lightly, which totally worked and got Puck shoved even harder for his efforts. "What are you doing?"
"Being what you need, baby," Puck grinned, only to get punched in the face.
"Don't call me 'baby', you jerk!"
"Fine," Puck breathed, totally a lot more turned on than he should have been. "Just lay off the face. It's my moneymaker." Slowly, Puck crossed his hands behind his head, showing off for the other boy, who had ended up a lot closer than Puck would have been comfortable with before he decided to make the girly-boy his.
"What the hell is going on with you, Puck?" Kurt asked and Puck didn't miss the way those blue eyes looked him up and down quickly, like he was still trying not to be caught at it. "I don't get you at all!"
Puck shrugged and stretched his arms further behind his head to make his t-shirt ride up so Kurt could see his killer abs. This was really fun, showing off for a dude. Girls (except Santana) would mostly focus on his face, but he always felt liked the rest of the Puckasaurus never really got the attention it deserved.
"Would you stop flexing and say something?" Kurt demanded, taking half a step closer and shoving Puck against the car again. For as much as he was complaining, Kurt had yet to turn tail and get out of there.
Groaning in satisfaction, Puck asked, "What do you want me to say?"
Grabbing Puck by the lapels of his letterman's jacket, Kurt demanded, his voice low and fast, "Tell me this isn't a prank. Tell me I left Dalton and Blaine behind for a good reason. Tell me you're not another Karofsky."
"I'm not," Puck smiled, leaning close, but not quite bridging the distance between them. Kurt was breathing a little heavy and Puck couldn't say that he was unaffected by the sound and feel of those short, shallow puffs of air against his chin and neck.
"Really?" Kurt asked in harsh disbelief, tilting his head a little like he was begging to be kissed. Virgins always did need a little coaching in the ways of love a la Puckerman. Puck tilted his head the other way, trying to get Kurt to close that distance and kiss him. This had to be perfect right from the start, so if Puck wanted Kurt to be less girly and take the lead, he had to let it happen that way this first time.
That didn't mean he couldn't nudge things along a little, did it? "You what I been lookin' for, pretty boy?" he asked, gently knocking one knee into Kurt's leg, but still not closing the infinitesimal gap between their lips. "You what I been missin' this whole time?"
"Your grammar is atrocious," Kurt replied, right before finally kissing Puck, hard. Rumbling at the sweet, electric feel of lips on his, Puck kissed back, but kept his hands to himself. Right now, it was enough that Kurt was holding him close by a tight grip on his jacket and bending Puck backward a little with the force of his kiss. God, that press of lips on lips made Puck's heart race and went straight to his crotch. Guess kissing a girly dude did it for the Puckmiester just as well as making out with Zizes. Who would have thought? Then, Kurt stopped kissing him and fucking squeaked. Puck opened his eyes to see Kurt's eyes go wide again as he abruptly let Puck go and stepped back.
"What?" Puck asked softly, finally letting himself reach out for Kurt's arm, wanting to pull the boy back in, but needing to let him come back on his own.
Holding one hand up to his mouth, Kurt took another step away before closing his eyes and groaning, "What is it with me and dumb jocks?"
"Everybody's got a type," Puck shrugged, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops so he wouldn't do something counterproductive, like grab Kurt and totally try to get with him in the middle of the parking lot.
Kurt opened his eyes halfway and dropped his hand, scoffing, "Is that so? What's your type, Puckerman? 'Cause I could have sworn it was loose women, young or old. Preferably cheerleaders."
"You wanna know my type?" Puck asked, grabbing the door handle behind his legs and opening it with a clunk. "Hot people like you," he said, smiling when Kurt blushed fiercely.
While the kid was distracted, Puck got into his car and buckled his seat belt. Before he could get any further though, Kurt rapped on his window. Starting up the ignition, Puck lowered the pane of glass between them and said, "Yeah?"
"I'm coming with you, Puck," Kurt ordered, circling the car quickly and getting into the passenger seat. He stowed that brown messenger bag of his at his feet and snapped his seatbelt home in one fluid moment. "And give me your phone."
Shivering at the way Kurt ordered him around, Puck handed the phone over and threw his car into reverse.
"Where're we going, pretty boy?"
"You'll see when we get there," Kurt promised.
Finn was a little surprised when he got a text asking, "Dude? Can I come over for dinner?" mostly because as far as Finn could tell, everything was spelled right. Maybe hanging out with Artie really was doing Puck some good.
"Sur man," he replied as he got into his car. "c u there n a min." Finn noticed out of the corner of his eye that Kurt's truck was still in the parking lot, but he'd probably just gone to take a leak and had to spend five minutes undoing and then redoing his designer clothes just to make it happen, so Finn wasnt gonna wait around for that.
Then, Finn got really confused when he got home and both Puck and Kurt were already there. Why would they ride together? Sure, Puck had been the driving force to get Karofsky out of McKinley (Finn didn't even want to know how Puck had arranged that knife thing), but it wasn't like those two were friends. Right?
Finn's mom set a few buckets of fried chicken and a lot of sides down on the table right after Finn got home, saying, "It's nice to see you, Noah!"
"Thanks, Mrs. H," Puck replied with that smirk he always gave moms. Finn was about to kick Puck under the table for giving that look to his mother, but then the guy started and frowned over at Kurt sitting beside him. Oh! Okay. Kurt had kicked Puck for the both of them. Alright.
Finn's stepbrother subtly shook his head at Puck before getting distracted by Burt's hand reaching for the fried chicken. "No!" he cried, slapping the hand away and digging around in the plastic bags before finding one specific container and handing it to Burt. "You get the grilled chicken, dad. No, don't argue with me on this one," he tutted, wagging a finger. "Do you want to be well enough to go on that honeymoon next year or not?"
It was a pretty normal dinner-time exchange, but when Finn looked up from his mashed potatoes he saw Puck staring over at Kurt like he was a god or a rock star or something. Weird.
"So, Puckerman," Burt frowned, taking a bite of his grilled chicken and grimacing, "how was your first day back at school since Christmas?"
Finn cringed a little bit because although Puck loved Christmas, he also loved being a Jew, so he could get a little touchy about the subject. Instead of flipping out, though, Puck stared down at his plate and smiled, "Really awesome, Mr H. Thanks for asking."
"Really?" Finn asked in surprise. The last he'd seen, Puck was still damp from being slushied after lunch and Rachel was harassing him about bumping into Kurt during dance rehearsal. What could have changed since then?
And why the heck was Puck sitting next to Kurt instead of him?
"So, dad?" Kurt said when dinner ended and Puck had to try really hard not to look too interested in what the boy had to say. It was difficult enough not watching the boy eat with rapturous attention. When, exactly, had Kurt's lips gotten so freaking hot?
"What is it son?" Mr. Hummel asked, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin and pushing his plate away.
Kurt caught Puck's eye quickly before facing his dad and asking, "Is it okay if Puck and I go to my room? We're working on a project for French and we would appreciate not being disturbed."
Puck had no idea what the fuck the kid was talking about, but looked up at Mr. Hummel happily and nodded, anyway. Letting Kurt be in control was just so freaking hot and any time they could get alone together would be well worth the lie.
Of course Finn had to be a dumbass and almost ruin the whole thing by saying, "Dude! You're not in French. You take Spanish with me and Mike."
"Extra credit," Kurt said quickly, grabbing Puck's arm and hauling him until he was standing.
"Yeah," Puck added, letting Kurt push him towards the door and lying his ass off. "If I pass this test we're studying for, I'll have enough credits not to get held back, bro."
Rolling his eyes, Kurt supplied, "And no one wants that..."
"Alright, boys," Mr. Hummel called as Kurt manhandled him down the hallway. "Study hard!"
As soon as Kurt's door was closed, Puck started cracking up, "French, huh?"
"It was the best I could come up with," Kurt replied with a cute little shrug before pushing Puck toward the bed. But then, when Puck was there, lying back propped up on his elbows and waiting for Kurt to join him, the other boy just sort of froze, hand on his lips again. Shit! Things had been going so well.
"C'mon, pretty boy," Puck smirked. "You heard your dad. We're supposed to be studying hard." He thrust his hips upward to make his point.
"You're disgusting," Kurt spat back, lowering his hand.
Wriggling on the bedspread a little - which was a totally gay color, by the way - Puck replied, "You're hot."
Kurt moved a little closer, but sneered, "You're irritating and uncouth."
"So we are studying French?" Puck asked, still smiling and watching as Kurt flushed with annoyance. "I thought we were going to French."
"I-" Kurt stammered, with a confused look on his face. "I thought so, too."
"Then what are you doing?" Puck asked with a little laugh. Could always count on a virgin to be this hesitant, damn it. And all Puck wanted was someone with a little fire. Was that too much to ask?
Furrowing his brow at Puck, Kurt asked, "What are you doing?"
Puck watched Kurt be confused for half a second more before deciding, "Alright. Well, you might actually be too girly for me, Kurt. Thanks for nothing and see ya around." Puck tried to push past Kurt, but the shorter boy caught his arm harshly and pulled him back.
"I knew it!" he cried. "This was all a prank! If it wouldn't mess up my nails and if your muscles weren't so, um," Kurt said, squeezing the hand that wrapped around Puck's bicep, "yeah… I'd totally beat the crap out of you for this!" Then, as if realizing what he'd said, Kurt's eyes widened briefly before flinching tightly closed, his hand going up defensively.
"There he is," Puck murmured in satisfaction, putting his lips as close to Kurt's ear as he dared. "That's the guy I've been looking for."
"Huh?" Kurt replied, opening one eye.
"Not a prank, pretty boy," Puck whispered before using two hands to push Kurt against a dresser with just a little force. "Now, are we gonna do this, or what?"
Scowling, probably because he was still confused, the idiot, Kurt grabbed Puck by the back of the neck and pulled him into a short, rough kiss. There it was, that passion and strength Puck had been looking for. As Kurt pulled away, Puck murmured, "Hells, yes!"
When Puck opened his eyes, Kurt was staring at him; studying him or something, still having no clue what he wanted. See? Virgins!
With a sigh, Puck leaned in and whispered, "I want you to toss me around, pretty boy. Be your badass self for me, huh?"
Ah, there was the light bulb moment! Kurt met his eyes and studied them for far too long before pushing Puck back a few steps with a shove to his shoulder. "I hate what a bully you are," he said, his voice haughty and mean. "I hate that you think girls are just conquests. And I hate that freaking Mohawk!"
"Sorry, babe," Puck murmured, eyes still defiantly with Kurt's. "But I'm El Puckerone. You can't change this. And why would you want to in the first place?"
Kurt grabbed Puck's wrist painfully and sneered, "Why would you make my life a living hell for two years and then come ask me to, 'throw you around?' I hate your ego."
"I've grown to love yours, babe," Puck replied, tugging on the arm Kurt held and smirking when Kurt wouldn't let go. "And face it. You want me."
Kurt made this high pitched noise that seemed like a mixture of annoyance, frustration and rage before pushing Puck harshly so he ran into Kurt's desk and muttering, "I can't believe I'm doing this."
"Don't think so hard," Puck laughed, stoked that Kurt was finally getting with the program. The boy kissed him, not even needing to pull Puck downward like any girl but Zizes would, and Puck felt that thrill again. This definitely had to be seeing God, right?
Then, when Kurt grabbed Puck's shirt and pushed him over and down onto the bed roughly, like he was physically taking out anything Puck had ever done to him on the other boy and that simple action made Puck's blood boil like nothing else ever had, he realized that God really did work in mysterious ways.
It's not perfect, but it felt like the ending to me. I hope you liked my story (please tell me in a review) and I shall now go off to work on all my other open projects. Thanks for reading!