Title: Breathing through the blocks
Pairing: Puck/Kurt, past Sam/Kurt
Genre: AU, Future Fic, mentions of past mpreg
Summary: Breathing through life.
Author's note: My first Puckurt, be gentle, please. Not betaed, because I had to take this fic out of my system. So I guess all mistakes are mine to be blamed for. Comments are loved, framed and cherished.
Breathing through the blocks
Just five more minutes, Kurt silently promised, this time for real, as he watched Ben, yellow building block in hand, happily toddle and babble over to a smiling Noah. Together they added the new piece to the tower that, for the past half hour, they had been building up and putting down with lots of laughter and noisy – music to Kurt's ears. Ben, in all his twenty-month old glory, wobbled around their multicolored masterpiece and, seeming satisfied with their work, plopped down in Noah's lap, nuzzling his blonde head under Noah's chin as Noah cuddled Ben against his – Versace forgive him – flannel clad chest.
Walking from the kitchen to the living room in Noah's open floor planned house, Kurt joined them on the carpeted floor. Noticing his father, Ben opened the smile that was all Sam's ( today it didn't hurt Kurt as much as it had yesterday ), and stretched his little arms to Kurt, who gladly picked up his son and cuddled him to his own chest. "Think your godson is finally ready to go to bed? It's way past his bedtime."
Noah shrugged and smiled, caressing the baby's hair. "He's been less fussy. I guess he will drop off alright now."
"Good, because we have a schedule to follow and little boys are definitely to be in bed by then," Kurt said, blowing raspberries against Ben's smooth rosy cheeks. Ben squealed and clapped his little hands. His babbling "Pa!" and Noah's warmth so close to his skin felt like a soothing balm to Kurt's healing soul.
"Sounds promising," Noah said, wrapping his arms around Kurt and Ben from behind. "Will I get to collect my reward then?"
"What reward?" Kurt shot back, leaning against Noah's broad chest. Noah smelled so good; suddenly flannel wasn't such a bad thing anymore.
"For watching little Road Runner here while you cooked," Noah clarified, nibbling Kurt's earlobe. "Wanna dessert before dinner."
Kurt shivered ( less guilty than in the past ), turning his head to brush his lips, eyes open ( bolder than usual, considering his and Sam's kid was still in his lap ) against Noah's. "I'm not quite finished here yet, but get him ready for bed and I'll see what I can do about it."
Lascivious lips turning up into a predatory smirk, Noah got them both to their feet before taking Ben back into his arms. "Come on, little buddy, time for bed," Noah stated kissing Ben's head, eyes never leaving Kurt's as he took the baby upstairs to the bedroom Noah had converted into a nursery.
With Noah and Ben busy upstairs, Kurt tentatively closed his eyes to take in something that this same time last year had caused him nothing but angst and despair.
The silence no longer was the soundtrack of his misery.
Despite the absence of sounds made of gibberish baby talk, the patter of wooden building blocks knocking each other to the floor and Noah's booming laughter, Kurt could breathe without hurting. He could breathe for himself and not only for Ben or for his daddy, or even for Sam, who had made Kurt promise he would go on even if Kurt hadn't wanted to, not without Sam.
And here Kurt was, collecting the toys his and Sam's son had left scattered around Noah's living room, mere hours from the beginning of a new year, feeling… hopeful. Yeah, hopeful for the future, with the certainty that the lingering ache, the longing would still be there in the morning and be part of him for the next 364 days that would follow, probably for the rest of his life. But also so would Ben, and his daddy and… and Noah.
The lamb in herb sauce and vegetables was cooking slow and easy in the kitchen. Oven timer set to go off in another hour, Kurt warmed up a bottle before joining Ben and Noah upstairs. He would help Noah settle Ben for the night and then…
Then Kurt would keep breathing without feeling guilt.
Back braced against the fogged tiled wall, Kurt offered the column of his throat to Noah's tongue and lips as an ultimate sacrifice. Locks of mated hair trickled thin veins of water down fluttering eyelids and flared nostrils to disappear inside parted lips as he gasped Noah's name over and over again. Rivulets of water moved down arms linked around Noah's muscular back and shoulders, legs circling Noah's waist, feet digging against Noah's buttocks, urging his thrusts to go deeper and deeper inside of Kurt, heart beating like crazy against Noah's.
Noah, Noah, Noah.
"Fuck, baby!" Endless gasps against his skin. "So tight, so hot... So fucking amazing!"
Their sizzling bodies melting the water coming from the shower head, cleansing lungs and opening pores, taking away everything that didn't match, that wasn't pure and weighed hard on Kurt's shoulder over and over until Kurt's release spluttered against their bellies and Kurt chocked in his own cry, Noah's name dying in his lips for the last time as Noah let go and let go and let go inside of him promising he got Kurt, he got Kurt.
His feet never touched the floor. Noah was there, he was strong enough to carry the both of them.
Kurt just had to keep breathing on and on and on.
Papa! Nono! Papa!
Back plastered to the flesh of a familiar front, warm breath ticking the short ends of hair in Kurt's nape, a long arm laying heavily around Kurt's bare waist, fingers entwined with his against a stomach that moved steadily if not lazily, Kurt at first didn't know why he had slowly made the transition from a deep, restful sleep to wakefulness. Kurt tried to sharpen his senses and grasp whatever had pushed sleep from him, and there it was again, Ben's on the verge of tears disembodied voice coming from the baby monitor, calling for him and Noah.
Noah tightened his hold on Kurt, the pattern of his breathing changing, and Kurt knew he was awake, too. "Perfect timing," Noah said, voice roughened by sleep, a hint of humor lingering there.
Kurt laughed softly, grog from sleep. "He hasn't interrupted us in a while, Noah."
"Perhaps that's his new year's resolution, not screwing with us while I'm screwing you," Noah grumbled, kissing the curve where Kurt's neck joined his shoulder before rolling away. "Shit, it's cold. Stay here and I'll pick him up."
Kurt clicked on the lamp on his nightstand and pulled himself up against the bed headboard. The haze of sleep didn't prevent him from admiring the sheer beauty of Noah's naked backside, all rippling and sinewy muscles gained after years working in constructions sites. Kurt knew that he still did that from time to time, even if now they had a reliable crew to do the heavy work.
Noah pulled on the pajama bottoms Kurt had ripped from his body when they had gone to bed and turned to Kurt. "Hopefully it was just a bad dream, and he will go right back to sleep."
"I'm afraid this is his feed-me-slash-I'm-dirty whine, Noah." Noah grumbled another expletive, sleepy smile still in place, and went after his charge.
Through the baby monitor, Kurt heard Noah speaking softly to Ben. He could imagine his son standing up in his crib, reaching his little arms clad in soft blue plush over the railing so Noah could pick him up, cuddle Ben to his bare chest after placing a lingering kiss in this baby's soft hair. It hadn't been supposed to be Noah doing this, and yet it was so right it frightened Kurt.
Kurt sighed and stretched his arms, the bones in his shoulder and interlaced fingers popping to life before reaching out towards Noah's side of the bed to steal his T-shirt. As the soft cotton slide down his body, Kurt wondered why he hadn't pulled on his own pajama top, which was lying on a heap by the nightstand.
No, he wouldn't go there; not tonight.
Less than five minutes later Noah was back with Ben in his arms.
"We have any bottles left?" Noah asked, handing Ben to Kurt.
"Get a small one, otherwise it will take him forever to go back to sleep." Noah nodded and went in search of said bottle.
The baby fussed a little when Kurt picked him up. The carbon copy of Sam his Ben was. From Kurt he had just inherited the perky nose and blue-greenish eyes, also, why not, a little bit of the bitchy personality. Sam's boyish way and friendly self tampered the kid's personality, and Kurt knew his son would grow up to be a fine young man.
"We'll show them, Benny boy," Kurt whispered, swaying the baby back and forth. "We will show the world how fabulous we, the Hummel-Evans can be."
Kurt whipped his head around towards the door. Noah stood there, bottle in hand and eyes that even in the dim light showed awkwardness and longing for something Kurt wasn't ready to give him, that Kurt felt still belonged to Sam, even if almost two years had passed since Sam's passing. But what crushed Kurt were the guilt and the pain that had kept Noah from meeting Kurt and Ben in Noah's own bed. Noah had been Sam's best friend, his business partner, the man Sam chose to stand by him for his wedding to Kurt.
The man who had been making lo- fucking Kurt since he became a widower almost twenty months ago.
"Found the bottle?"
"Yeah, yeah. Ah, here."
Kurt braved himself to offer Noah a smile that should be reassuring, but that felt equally awkward at best.
Noah had heard him, and Kurt didn't know what to do to make things better, not again.
Noah perched himself on the corner of the bed, cautious not to touch Kurt, keeping his distance and guarding himself. The tip of his fingers touched the sole of Ben's socked feet. Ben suckled on the nipple of his bottle, eyelids heavy and little fingers playing with the hen of Noah's T that Kurt was wearing, unaware of the tension goose-bumping their skins.
And the silence. Kurt wouldn't drown in it; he wouldn't let Noah. "Noah, I…" But Kurt didn't know how to create a safe net for them, not alone. He would need Noah's help for that and for so much more.
"Is this… Is this okay, Kurt?" Noah pleaded for Kurt's reassurance with his whispered question. "Am I crowding you? I don't… Fuck, Kurt. I don't want to make the same mistake again."
Neither would Kurt; he wouldn't let Noah walk out on him and Ben again. Never again. "I can do this on my own, Noah, raise Ben, make sure he grows up to be the man Sam and I had dreamed he would be."
"Yeah, you could Hummel." Noah tried to smile, miserable, resigned. "More than anyone else, I know that you could, that you will."
"But I chose not to, Noah. When I went after you I chose not to. I don't regret my decision."
Noah smiled, vulnerable and trusting, eyes still away from Kurt's. "Spend the weekend with me?"
"Only if you stop being a fool and get over here. It's cold, Noah."
Noah laughed and a moment later Kurt had his strong arms around his shoulder and demanding lips against his. Pressed between them, Ben kicked his feet and grunted in protest. "Hey, dude. Get a grip."
"Don't dude my son, Puckerman."
"Sorry, princess." Kurt elbowed his ribs and he laughed, then sobered and smiled. "So you, Benny boy and I are all good?"
"We will keep you, Puckerman." Kurt smiled too and breathed in unison with Noah, with Ben and with the universe. "And, Noah?"
"Ben, you and I are not good."
Noah kissed his lips. "No?"
"No, Puckerman. We are made of awesomeness."
Noah laughed. "Course, princess. We are fucking fabulous!"
Thanks for reading. Happy New Year!