A/N: Sorry for the time this took to upload. I managed to get RSI in both hands and had to rest them completely for two weeks. Sadly, it meant my momentum for this story kind of ran out BUT! We have an ending. This final chapter is way more fluff than smut and humor, and it's a little shorter, but it seems to have come full circle. The ending is a little rushed, I know, but it seemed natural. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, it meant a helluva lot to me. Hell, without you guys this would have stayed as a one shot. I'm glad it didn't, I like where it's gone. I have a few other stories in the works, mostly shamefully kinky Klaine fics and a few angsty Kurt pieces. Let me know in reviews what you'd like to see! I'm happy to take requests and suggestions. You guys rock!

Also, to all those who pointed out my Spanish fail in the last chapter, thank you. In my defence, I studied Italian for four years but have never heard anyone speak Spanish; in fact, I don't think I've ever known anyone who spoke it at all. Still, it was a research fail, and mea culpa. I'll be fixing it tonight.

This is it, folks. Hope you enjoy it, and constructive criticism is always welcome (just don't be a dick about it!)

Puck would forever blame his falling in love with Kurt on the flu. If Sarah hadn't gotten sick with it, he never would have found himself unable to live without him.

Okay, that was probably understating the situation again. Sarah getting sick made Puck realise he was in love with Kurt, but Kurt was why he was in love with Kurt. If Puck was honest with himself (But really, when was he ever honest?) he'd been falling for Kurt from the day the countertenor had rocked his world then asked if it was okay, and falling fast since that first day they'd walked into school hand in hand.

Kurt had offered him an out after round four at about 4 o'clock in the morning after Puck had asked to be his boyfriend. They'd been lying together (cuddling, though Puck would deny it if asked) in the dark, sticky and sated, when Kurt's voice ended the afterglow.

"This could ruin your life, you know."

Puck looked towards the soft voice. There was a moonbeam coming through the hole in the curtains, and it hit Kurt's porcelain white back and made him glow, like an angel or a radioactive ballet dancer or something. Kurt was lying on his stomach at Puck's side, tracing patterns on Puck's chest idly. Puck tightened an arm around Kurt's narrow waist as the boy continued gently.

"There would be no going back after admitting to be dating me. They'll treat you like they treat me; slushies, dumpsters, attacks... you will never be safe at that school again. They'll probably get worse with me too, thinking I 'turned you gay.' They'll make your life a living hell if you're with me, Puck."

"Are you questioning my badassness?" Puck interrupted, looking down at the top of Kurt's head where it rested on his shoulder. "I know you've seen my guns."

Puck could sense the eye-roll, "You know what I mean. You can't just beat up everyone who looks at you funny, you'll get expelled. "

"I'm Puckasaraus. I'm top dog. It'll be fine."

"They ostracised you for shaving your mohawk, don't you think dating a guy is going to be a slightly bigger deal?" Kurt looked up. Even in the faint light Puck could see the challenge in his eyes. "You come out as my boyfriend and you can say goodbye to your rep, Puckerman. From here on in, the people who feared you will be laughing at you, and the people who liked you will hate you. It's not easy being the school pariah. I would know."

Puck huffed, "You trying to talk me out of this or something? I want you, Kurt. And what I want, I get. I don't what being the school piranha means or whatever, but we'll work it out. You saying you don't want this?"

"I want this," Kurt confirmed. "I just don't think you know what you're getting yourself into ."

Kurt paused to let that sink in, resting his head on Puck's shoulder again. When he spoke again, it was in a tiny whisper that Puck had to strain to hear, "I just don't want you hating me for how you'll be treated."

"I won't hate you," Puck grumbled, pulling Kurt closer. "Don't be a fucking idiot. That's my job."

Kurt snorted, "I'm just saying, I would be willing to make this a secret thing. We could still be together, and you could keep your rep. Think about it."

Puck stared at the top of Kurt's head, mind whirring. Keep my rep and Kurt in secret, at nights. Can't touch him in public. Can't brag about his mad skills. Tell people. No more respect. Slushies. Dumpsters. Bottom of the heap. Kurt on my arm.

"We're walking into that school tomorrow hand in hand," Puck growled, tugging Kurt so he was lying directly on top of him. "I want everyone to know you're mine."

Kurt stared at him, then smiled, "If it goes to shit, I'm blaming you."

"Fair enough."

Then round five commenced.

They were late to school the next day, round seven having occurred in the shower and round nine in the parking lot. They had an early Glee rehearsal, so the school was mostly empty as they strode through the corridors, hands clasped defiantly. Puck pushed the choir room door open for Kurt, who shot him a wicked smile as he brushed past.

"So sorry we're late, Mr Schuester," Kurt chirped as he made his way across the room, Puck sliding along next to him with a smirk. "We had a bit of an interrupted morning."

"Try not to let it happen again, guys, Sectionals..."Mr Schuester's voice trailed off and his mouth dropped open as Puck flopped into his seat and pulled Kurt onto his lap, sliding his arms around the well-dressed boy's waist. There were a few shocked exclamations from all around the room, but Kurt just perched primly and looked at Mr Schuester expectantly, hands folded over Puck's on his stomach.

"So what are we talking about?" He asked brightly, his voice so innocent that Puck had to stifle his laughter into Kurt's fuzzy green and grey sweater.

"We're talking about what the hell you're doing on Puck's lap!" Finn yelped, standing. Kurt raised an eyebrow up at him.

"Why shouldn't I sit on my boyfriend's lap?" he asked archly, looked down at his nails. Puck smirked at Finn over Kurt's shoulder, loving the look of dumbfounded rage on Frankenteen's face. "Brittany is sitting on Artie."

"But - you're not - he's not-!" Finn spluttered, pointing back and forth between them with an expression like they'd just sucker punched a kitten. Kurt rolled his eyes and tossed his head dismissively.

"Yes, we are. Yes, he is. Seriously, we're going to be getting enough crap from general student populace, can we get a little support in here?"

As Finn continued to splutter, the rest of the room reacted. Mr Schuester's eyes lit up with understanding, and he absorbed the information with no more than a momentarily shocked, 'Alrighty-then' expression and a proud smile at Puck. Rachel started to reassure them that she was fully supportive of both the relationship and Puck's new-found sexuality and continued to do so for nearly twenty minutes. Quinn shot Puck a confused but accepting smile, and Sam just shrugged and said, "That's good for you, I guess," a sentiment which both Artie and Mike backed up with easy grins. Santana looked caught between laughing at Puck and glaring at Kurt, and Brittany and Tina were giggling about how cute they were. Puck risked a glance at Mercedes. Much to his surprise, she was just smirking.

"Hey Aretha, how come you're not pissed that you didn't know?" Puck ignored the elbow he got in the side from Kurt. Mercedes just shook her head and gave him a pitying look.

"You really think I haven't known since day one? My boy tells me everything," she blew Kurt a kiss, which he returned. Finn started choking again.

"Wait, what? How long has this been going on for?" he demanded, standing over Kurt and Puck, neither of whom looked at him. Mercedes gave him a droll look.

"If it were any of yo' damn business, you'd know already," she dismissed him, looking back at Kurt and shooting him a thumbs up. "You boys ready for the Hallway Mafia to blacklist you?"

Puck pressed a gentle kiss to Kurt's cheek as the pale boy answered for both of them, "Bring it."

Maybe Puck should have guessed that this wasn't going to be a passing fling when - after a day of being shoved into lockers, called a fag by everyone wearing a letterman's jacket and then some, and having his locker graffitied with the word, "Cocksucker" (Kurt had pulled out a Sharpie and quickly edited it so it read, "EXCELLENT Cocksucker") - all it took was a brief kiss on the cheek from Kurt before he went to History and it was all totally worth it. The Gleeks stood by them anyway, doing their best to not allow either of them to go anywhere alone. Mr Schuester even gave Azimio detention when he knocked Kurt down, giving Puck a supportive pat on the shoulder as they walked passed.

Or maybe he should have guessed when he'd gotten a frantic call from Kurt that evening, saying that Finn had told Burt Hummel about them and the man wanted to talk to Puck, and rather than getting on the next bus to Mexico Puck arranged to come over for dinner. He'd never gone to those lengths for a girl, not even Quinn. And Burt Hummel? Way scarier than any other father of anyone he'd been doing.

When Puck had gotten there (dressed in a button up shirt he'd borrowed from Sam and his only pair of jeans without a hole in them) it had been Burt Hummel that had opened the door. He was holding a shotgun and a cleaning rag and looking at Puck like he'd just desecrated his mother's tombstone. Puck just took a deep breath and tried to smile.

"Hey, Mr Hummel. I'm Pu- uh, Noah Puckerman," he held out his hand, but Mr Hummel ignored it in favour of trying to set Puck on fire with his eyes. After an awkward pause, Puck lowered his hand.

"Dad, be nice," Kurt's exasperated voice floated over the top of Burt's head, and the shotgun-wielding mechanic was gently moved aside by a fabulously dressed Kurt. The slender boy gave Puck an apologetic look before pressing a defiant kiss on Puck's mouth. Puck responded automatically, slipping his arm around Kurt's waist and pulling him close. It was relatively chaste, just a greeting, but Puck could swear he heard Burt growl. Kurt pulled away reluctantly, grabbing Puck's hand and facing his dad with a hard look. "Dad, this is my boyfriend, Puck. Put the shotgun away."

"I don't think that helped my case, dude," Puck muttered out of the corner of his mouth as Burt stomped away. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"He's just got to get used to it. I'll be 17 in a month, it's normal for me to be dating. And don't call me dude."

"Sorry, princess," Puck slipped his arms back around Kurt's waist and pressed a kiss to his temple. It felt as stupid as shit to do, but at the same time...comforting. And the way Kurt melted against him was kinda nice too. They stood in the doorway like that for a moment, before Kurt pulled away with a cheerful, "Right!"

He faced Puck, "You ready to face the combined Hummel-Hudson clan? There's still time to head for Mexico."

Puck grinned as Kurt unknowingly mimicked his own thoughts, "Lead the way, princess. I was promised free food."

They walked into the kitchen hand in hand, and it was about a thousand times more nerve wracking than walking down McKinley's corridors. The shotgun was sitting on a side table, gleaming. Burt, Carole, and Finn sat around the table silently, Burt furious, Carole worried, Finn suspicious. The table was neatly and stylishly set, with little touches like silver ribbon around the carving knife that made Puck smile, Kurt was here. Kurt gestured to a free seat opposite Carole, and spoke easily, "Finn, if I may request your assistance in the kitchen?"


"I need your help carrying stuff in."

"Oh, right! Yeah. Sure."

And suddenly Puck was alone with the parents. Fuck my fucking life.

"So, Puck," Carole started, her voice friendly but strained. She'd never really forgiven him for sleeping with Quinn, so he supposed that made sense. "How have you been? How's your sister and your mother?"

"Sarah's good," Puck nodded, avoiding looking at Burt in case the man managed to turn him to stone with his glare. Sarah's a nice, safe topic. I can talk about Sarah. "She's obsessed with Disney Princesses right now. She's decided she wants to be Belle."

"That's sweet," Carole smiled a little more naturally; she adored Sarah, having had both Puck and the little girl stay with her on nights when their mother was out or too drunk to function. "And your mother?"

"Pretty much the same," Puck shrugged, and Carole nodded sympathetically. Burt's voice was flat and furious.

"Are you sleeping with my son?"

"Burt!" Carole hissed, and Puck's eyes snapped to Burt's. Burt was undeterred by his partner's anger.

"Are you?" he demanded, his voice harsh. Puck felt resentment bubbling up in him; who the fuck does he think he is?

"Frankly, sir," he bit out, trying desperately not to shout. Kurt will never speak to you again if you lose it, Puckerman. Stay calm. "As Kurt is 16, I don't think it's really your business if he sleeps with his boyfriend or not."

Puck felt some satisfaction at the brief, dumbfounded expression on the parents faces, and couldn't help but smile when Kurt's voice backed him up, "He's right, you know."

Kurt glided back in carrying a pie, Finn trailing behind him awkwardly, with a salad bowl in his hands. Kurt set the pie down and then gave his father a hard glare. "I'm 16. I have as much right to sleep with my boyfriend as Finn does to sleep with his girlfriend. If Rachel were actually willing to let him see her naked you'd buy him some condoms and give him a high-five."

Puck disguised a laugh as a cough as Kurt stood, hands on hips and glaring, staring down his father. Carole looked faintly amused, and Finn looked like he was daydreaming about Rachel naked. Burt tried again.

"Wasn't he one of the ones who threw pee balloons at you?"

"So was Finn," Kurt shrugged. Puck piped up helpfully.

"It was his idea, actually."


"It was, like, two years ago, mom!"

"Was he one of the kids who nailed all out lawn furniture to the roof?"

"Probably," Kurt shrugged, tossing his hair and sniffing disdainfully. "I don't care anymore. He's grown up...somewhat, at least. I like him. He likes me. I'm going to date him, dad. Whether you approve or not. We want your blessing, but it isn't essential."

Burt stood up, face like thunder. Kurt didn't stand down, just stared at him stubbornly. The father growled, "This punk made your life a living Hell. He made you cry. I've seen you come home bruised and dirty because of assholes like him and now I'm just meant to accept that he's fucking you under my roof and be okay with it?"

Kurt stuck his chin out, "Yes. Because he makes me happy, dad. I want this." There was a sassy edge to Kurt's voice and he leaned on one hip when he added, "And who says he's fucking me?"

Finn choked on his drink, and suddenly everything was okay. Burt gave a grudging nod, Carole put a hand over her mouth to cover her smile, and Puck looked at Kurt with wide eyes.

He should have noticed he was falling for Kurt when the knowledge that he'd made Kurt cry, something he'd never really thought about happening, felt like a punch to the gut. He should have realised when he tried to kiss his apology into Kurt's mouth and neck when they said goodbye later that night. He definitely should have guessed when the idea of being fucked by Kurt came to him when he was lying in bed and provided him with jerking off material.

Kurt had never been the top in their relationship, and it had never been brought up, so Puck had never really thought about it before. He should have realised he was falling in love when the idea made him more curious than horrified, when the image of being taken by Kurt got him off rather than freaked him out. He should have seen it coming when, the next time Kurt managed to get over to his place when they had it to themselves, he blurted out this request like a goddamn blushing virgin;

"I want you to fuck me."

Kurt froze half way through the front door, and looked at Puck like a deer in headlights. Puck felt his face heat up and looked away , scowling. He muttered, "I mean, you love it so it must feel good. I just thought, you know, if you wanted to we could switch it up a bit. But forget it, forget I said anything. You want to play Super Mario Brothers?"

"No!" Kurt yelped, dropping his bag on the floor in a spot near the door where it basically lived now. "I mean, yes, I also want to play Super Mario, but I don't want to forget it. I want to f-fuck you. I just didn't think you'd be up for it. You're so-"

"Dominant? Manly? Badass?" Puck suggested, confidence returning as he wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and kneaded that ass he loved so much. Kurt gave an appreciative , "Mmm" and ran his fingers up Puck's chest.

"I was going to say macho, but I guess those others work too," he purred, and Puck gave his ass a hard pinch for the mocking edge in his voice. Kurt let out a very undignified squeak and tried to step away, but Puck pulled them together for a long kiss. His heart raced, and he chalked it up to nerves and excitement that he might be crossing the last sexual boundary he had, but maybe he should have known then that it was the start of him falling for Kurt. Or maybe it was the middle. Puck really didn't know.

He felt something when he and Kurt were kissing slowly on his bed, naked, sweat skin sliding together in a way that felt more erotic then getting head from any of the overly botoxed cougars ever had. Kurt drove him wild like no one else, turning sex from a game or a contest into an experience in of itself. Kurt was demanding but active, constantly moving and touching and just relishing in the feel of Puck. It made Puck feel powerful and hot like nothing else ever had.
That day, that first time Kurt had topped, that was when Puck started to get an inkling that he might more than like Kurt. It had been four months since that first rehearsal, five since the shoelaces, and two days since Puck had worked up the nerve to admit to himself that he wanted a relationship. It was way too soon for Puck to seriously start thinking about love - if he ever did - so he just pushed the thought out of his mind and focused on the strange feeling of Kurt's first finger sliding in to the knuckle.

Puck's hiss was swallowed by Kurt's mouth as the slender boy tried to relax and distract him. Puck focused on the slide on lips rather than the intrusion, still loving the feeling of those impossibly soft lips caressing his. He was rubbing his own cock lazily as Kurt scissored two fingers, kind of enjoying the burn but not understanding why Kurt went so nuts for it, when Kurt's fingers jabbed him in such a way that felt so good it almost hurt.

"Fuck!" he'd yelped, bucking his hips away from the shock of pleasure in fright. "What - that's what a prostate feels like? Holy shit."

Kurt chuckled, watching Puck's unfocused eyes as he finger fucked him, "Yeah, that's it. Image what it's like for me when you're hitting it every - " he stroked the spot again, causing Puck to thrash against the feeling, " - single -" he hit it again, drinking in the helpless noises Puck made as he drove him wild, " - stoke."

Puck was moaning and bucking his hips, barely aware of what he was doing as Kurt just kept hitting that spot over and over again. He was also barely aware of the third finger when it slid in, opening him up like he'd never been before. By the time Kurt slipped on a condom and lined up with his entrance, Puck was convinced that Kurt had the right idea; bottoming was fantastic.

It did hurt, Kurt's cock being thicker than his fingers, but it was a good hurt, a hot hurt, like Kurt's nails digging into his back when Puck fucked him. Kurt swore like a sailor as he sank home, arms trembling on either side of Puck's head as he waited for Puck's go-head. Puck nodded quickly; he could take pain if it meant Kurt hit that spot again. It took a few tries, Kurt's eyes screwed shut in concentration, but soon Puck was moaning and thrashing and Kurt was fucking him hard, like Kurt loved when Puck did it to him. It didn't last long for either of them, but afterwards, when Kurt had licked all the cum off of Puck's chest and stomach, Puck felt a strong wave of affection that he put down to afterglow. It had been way too soon to think about love.

It was only on their six-month-aversery that Puck really realised that he was beyond whipped. Kurt hadn't mentioned it but Puck remembered the dates very well. He had plans, good plans. Plans about them both getting laid so hard they would walk funny for a week and everyone would know what they'd been doing. Plans that would leave them both with pulled muscles and unable to wear anything but turtlenecks for a month. These were fantastic plans.

Sadly, because of his stupid drunk mother being God-only-knows where and his seriously annoying baby sister getting the flu, those plans had fallen down around his ears.

When he picked Sarah up from school at 3 she was pale and sweaty. She looked up at him with unfocused eyes, then threw up on his shirt. Her teacher assured him - as she helped him clean up in the staff bathroom - that it wasn't serious. A bug had been going around the class, a few days at home in bed and she'd be fine. He drove her home and did all the right things; tucked her into bed with a bucket and a wet washcloth for her forehead, Googled the recipe for chicken soup, opened her windows so she got some fresh air...the knock on the door at 4.30 made him jump out of his skin. Kurt! Oh shit...

He ran to the door and flung it open. Kurt was texting someone, wearing a pair of black skinny jeans Puck adored for their tightness and his old Cheerio shirt. Oh, fuck my life. He finally wore the Cheerio top and I have to bail to look after Sarah.

"Kurt!" Puck blurted out, flustered with worry for his sister and the knowledge that he his plan was now impossible. Kurt looked at up the exclamation, taking in Puck's wide eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"If you accidentally double-booked fuck buddies, I'm not doing a threesome," he said flatly, hand on his hip. Puck snorted, pulling him in and placing a kiss on his forehead.

"I don't have fuck buddies, just a seriously hot-ass boyfriend. No, it's Sarah. Picked her up from school today only to get thrown up on. She's picked up a virus or some shit, I got to look after her."

"Sarah? Is she okay?" Kurt's expression changed from catty to concerned in a heartbeat, and he pushed passed Puck without waiting for his answer. Puck followed him down the hall.

"The teacher said something had been going around and not to worry about it. I don't really know what to do though," Puck admitted as Kurt approached Sarah's room. Kurt breezed into the room without pausing, rushing over to the side of Sarah's bed.


"Kurtie!" Sarah sat up in her bed, reaching out for the countertenor the second she saw him. She had tears in her eyes as she wailed, "I'm sick!"

"I know, honey, Puck told me," Kurt soothed her, giving her a gentle hug and pushing her back into bed. "Lie down, sweetheart, you'll feel better."

"I don't feel good," Sarah pouted, sniffing. Kurt pushed some of her sweaty hair off of her forehead tenderly, sitting next to her on her bed with a sympathetic expression. Puck spoke gently, trying not to be touched by the sight.

"I'm going to make you some chicken soup when I can find a recipe, Sar-bear.

"Do you want me to do it?" Kurt offered, sitting up on the bed. "We don't want to poison the poor thing, she already feels sick. You can stay here with Sarah."

Sarah reached out for him with an enormous pout and the world's most potent puppy-dog eyes while Kurt said this, so before Puck could register the slight against his cooking he was curled up on Sarah's bed next to her with her leaning against him piteously, reading to her from Barbie's Magical Pony Adventures (complete with different voices per character). He'd gotten to the part where Barbie's magical pony Stardust was saving the day with the power of song when Kurt's familiar giggle drifting over to him. The pale boy was standing in the doorway with three bowls of soup and three glasses of apple juice standing on a tray balanced in his arms. He was looking at Puck with open affection as he carefully brought it over, resting the tray on his and Sarah's lap before taking his own spot on Sarah's other side.

"Dreadfully sorry to interrupt the show," he quipped, settling in. "But I figure we could all have an early dinner. This is chicken soup with carrots and celery. Yours doesn't have mushrooms in it Sarie, because I know you don't like them, and Puck, you don't have peas. Sarah, you get the Disney Princess cup, I'm taking the Barbie cup, and Puck's is the Transformers cup. Bon apatite!"

It was right then, looking at the super smoking boy taking care of his irritating but much beloved little sister, who knew both of their least favourite vegetables and that Puck's cup was the Transformers cup, who was now encouraging Puck to keep reading, even offering to do Barbie's voice himself, that Puck realised that he was totally, madly, unquestionably, head-over-heels in love with Kurt Hummel.

He was too shocked to freak out. Instead, he just picked the book up and started reading, laughing at Kurt's hilarious commentary ("Oh, Barbie, sweetie, no. That dress does not go with that crown. What do you think, Sarie, is Barbie a spring or a winter?") and making sure Sarah ate her soup. It took nearly an hour to finish the book between eating, laughing, and commentary, and by the end Sarah's eyes were shut and she was drooling on Puck's chest. Kurt helped him manoeuvre his way out from underneath her, carefully lifting the tray as they tip-toed out of the room. Puck left the door open a crack so they could hear her if she woke, and followed Kurt into the kitchen. He stared at the back of his boyfriend's head as they walked, mind strangely blank for his realisation. He thought there ought to be some big part of him denying it, freaking out, calling him a woman, a fag, something. He thought that he should be trying to talk himself out of it, convincing himself that Puckasauraus didn't fall in love or some shit, but he couldn't. All he could do was silently help Kurt put away the vegetables, fill up the sink with dishes, and watch as Kurt filled up about six Tupperware containers with soup.

"I've labelled them so you know whose is whose," the slender boy informed him softly. "I'll put a few in the freezer. You'll have home cooking for days, imagine that! Do you want me to make excuses for you in Glee? I know you'll probably want to stay at home with her, and I don't blame you, but we both know you won't want them knowing you're playing dad to your baby sister. Don't worry, I'll make it sufficiently badass. How about, you need to stay home because you pulled your hamstring whilst taking down three guys at Fight Club?"

"I love you."

Kurt froze with his arm in the fridge. He turned to face Puck, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a blank look on his face. Kurt took a shaky breath and shook his head.

"Don't joke with me, Puck. Not about that."

"I'm not joking," Puck shrugged, and turned to face the sink. He stuck his hands in the warm soapy water, scrubbing at the nearest pot mindlessly. His voice was tight when he continued, but he ignored the heat on his cheeks in favour of glowering at the dishes. "I love you. I just realised when you brought in the soup. It's no big deal. You don't have to say it back if you don't want to. I just wanted you to know."

There was a long pause. Kurt voice was thoughtful when he asked, "Why?"

Puck stopped scrubbing for a moment, thinking. He thought about the way he felt when Kurt smiled that secret smile at him, the way his chest felt tight when Kurt described with a flat voice what the word 'fag' made him feel. He tried to think of a way to explain how proud he felt to walk down the corridors at school with Kurt hand-in-hand, how he had never been as happy as that day he, Kurt and Sarah had watched Finding Nemo with the sound off, adlibbing the dialogue just for the hell of it. He tried to think of words to describe how much it took from him to let Kurt top, and how he had never regretted it for a second. All he could think of was, "You know that the Transformer's cup is mine."


"And I'm not embarrassed."

"Oh," Kurt fell silent again, and Puck went back to scrubbing the pot. He glared at the water as he silently, violently berated himself.

Me and my big fucking mouth, I probably scared him off. Shouldn't have told him, I sounded like an idiot. I bet he leaves - shit, what if he leaves?

He didn't react when Kurt slid up next to him at the sink with a dishtowel in hand. They washed and dried the dishes in silence for a minute, Puck tense with fear, Kurt simply thoughtful. There wasn't much to do so it didn't take long, and as Puck put the last bowl in the cupboard above the bench he felt slender arms wrap around his waist.

"For the record," Kurt murmured, pressing a tender kiss to the back of Puck's neck. "I think your Transformer's cup is adorable. And I love you too."

Before Puck had realised he was doing it, he had turned around and pulled Kurt against him; not kissing him, just holding the other boy close to him. Kurt's arms slid around his neck and hung on, and then they just stood there. Puck pulled back so he could look in Kurt's eyes, "You're sure, right? 'Cause I'm sure. I'm really sure. Really, really sure. And if you're not sure you shouldn't say it, 'cause I really want you to be sure and if you're not sure I'll be really upset-"

Kurt shut him up with a firm kiss, only pulling back to say, "I'm sure. I've known for a while. That I loved you, I mean. I had no idea that you felt that strongly about me."

Puck's grin was beginning to hurt his face, and he buried his face in the crook of Kurt's neck. He pressed gentle kisses along the pale column of throat, thinking, I love you, I love you, I love you over and over again. Kurt giggled a little at the tickling kisses and squeezed Puck a little tighter.

"We can't have too much fun and risk missing Sarah calling us if she needs to," the smaller boy whispered, reluctantly pulling away. "But how about you take out the Nintendo and we play a few rounds?"

Puck choked on a laugh and shook his head, "This feels anticlimactic. Like, it should be a bigger deal that we're totally in love, you know? But it just feels-"

"Natural?" Kurt smiled sweetly, reaching up to stroke Puck's cheek. "It is. I love you. You love me. It's no drama. It just is, and it will be for as long as it just is. Sound good to you?"

Puck brushed his lips against Kurt's, "Sounds perfect."

"Good! So, Super Mario Brothers?"

"Hells yeah," Puck pressed a final kiss to the centre of Kurt's forehead before practically skipping into the living room. "Whatever you want, Princess."

"Just keep the sound off!" Kurt called out, shutting the cupboard doors. "I still can't hear the theme tune without wanting to jump you."

Puck laughed and grinned and fell a little bit deeper in love. Later, he took a picture of Sarah sleeping on his cell phone and printed a copy out. He placed it lovingly in the shoebox shrine that contained a pair of worn shoelaces and the game box of Super Mario Brothers. When Kurt found it in the back of his closet at NYU three years later, it also held a dried button-hole flower (from Prom), an empty packet of Skittles (from their first date as high school graduates), a torn ribbon (left over from Kurt's portfolio entrance to the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York), a torn envelope (from Kurt's acceptance letter), a printout of an ad (for their first apartment), and the receipt for a diamond ring (that Kurt hadn't seen yet). The countertenor grinned and fetched his own box from the other closet, putting his own treasures in alongside Puck's. He made sure his own receipt for the titanium band he'd bought last week sat next to the diamond ring's, and looked fondly at the shoelaces. It was all their fault. They totally deserved their place in the shrine.