Author's Notes: Written for this prompt on the glee_angst_meme: "Noah Puckerman likes to pretend a lot of things. He likes to pretend that he's not dying a little more each day that Beth isn't with him. He likes to pretend that one day his dad will come home. He likes to pretend that he doesn't wonder if anyone would care if he died. And he likes to pretend that his first time was with Mrs. Larson when he was thirteen and that she got him drunk after he cleaned her pool (though, that's just what he likes to tell himself. As far as the rest of the world knows, it was Santana when they were fifteen).
He can never fool himself on that last one, though. Not when he looks at Kurt and sees her eyes staring right back at him. He can't lie to himself and pretend that it was Mrs. Larson or that he was drunk. No. He was completely sober when Katherine Hummel offered to drive him home from a playdate with Kurt when he was eight. There was no alcohol in his system then to numb the memory of her pulling over, holding him down, and...
He tried not to think about it.
He failed every day that he saw Kurt. Bullying him never had anything to do with Kurt being gay. It was all about his eyes. All about Katherine's eyes staring back at him and him needing some kind of revenge against what she did.
Kurt never had any idea about what his mom did. He'd always remembered her as this great woman, the best mom he could ever ask for. Whether Burt had a suspision or had no idea is up to whoever fills this, but I'd like to see the truth get out at some point.
Yeah...I'm on the shuttle straight to a special hell..."
However, I made it a pre-series fic and generally screwed with the prompt. Oh well.
Prissy little queen just glares at them, staring straight in his face. Puck's feeling real uncomfortable right about now, so he thinks he should get a move on. "Come on, boys, throw him in."
"I hope you know this doesn't mean your brains won't ooze out into the garbage as soon as someone figures that's where you belong," the homo prances, and Puck rolls his eyes.
"That the best you can do, Hummel? You're losing your touch."
(He never calls Kurt by his name; he can't).
The guys laugh and Puck sticks his hand up to high-five Finn. Finn hesitates for a moment before he does it; he looks uncomfortable. Whatever. Finn always looks uncomfortable about some shit or another, the pussy.
("Katherine, I think Finn's sick, so I'm going to take him home. I promised Maria I'd drop Noah off, but, well – can you do it for me? Please?"
"Of course," says the woman, smoothing down her skirt. "Burt's back now, after all; he'll be watching Kurt. It's no problem."
Carole smiles. "Thank you." Puck ignores it all in favor of laughing at the dumb look on Finn's face. Kurt laughs with him.)
He and Finn walk toward the door, but Finn's being all quiet again. Oh, fuck. This is the bit when he gets all girly and 'why aren't we better people' about this shit. Puck was hoping to avoid this for a while; he thinks Finn's a couple of weeks ahead of schedule.
Finn opens his mouth. Puck cuts him off. "Dude, don't. We do that shit to Hummel because he's a faggot and loser. Ain't nothing to be ashamed of."
Finn cringes. Why does he have to be such a damn girl about it? "Remember when we were friends with him?"
("It's nice you're friends with Kurt," Mrs. Hummel says easily. Puck shrugs. "I know a lot of people struggle to accept him. My son is... different, and that comes with it's challenges."
"Well, Puckasaurus is too awesome to worry about that," he says. She giggles at him.
Puck blinks. "Dude, that was like, what – eight years ago? Plus, he wasn't a homo yet then."
Finn blinks right back. "You sure?"
"Dude, whatever," Puck brushes it off. Man, why is Finn actually asking questions now? Most of the time, when he pulls this shit, it doesn't go that far and Puck doesn't think about anything.
"Just sayin'. I mean, why's it such a big deal anyway?"
Puck pauses. "Huh?"
Finn shrugs. "Well, er, why do we care? I mean... really? Are we those guys that show up at soldiers' funerals with the signs, because you know I fucking hate those dudes."
Puck's confused. It always seemed pretty damn obvious to him he should hate Hummel for being gay – everyone else did, after all. Why is Finn actually asking questions about it all.
(It's not like he has any other reason, right?)
"It's just what we do, man," he says. "Why you even asking? You some kind of a homo too?"
"No!" Finn insists. "Just... when we were kids, we were friends and... whatever."
"Friends. Yeah, whatever," Puck says. His stomach is starting to hurt a little bit, and he really doesn't know what he's even trying to say. He shakes his head to get rid of thoughts he really does not need. Dude, that was just weird shit. It never happened. Get over it.
("I think there's something wrong with the engine," Mrs. Hummel tells him. "Mind if I pull over for a bit? You might be a bit late home, but..."
"It's cool," Puck tells her. "Long as we don't explode or die or whatever.")
"Dude. You okay?" Finn asks, clapping a hand down on his shoulder.
"Wha? Yeah, Puckasaurus is always awesome," Puck says, and Finn rolls his eyes.
But Finn went and had to say shit to him just then, and now he's stuck thinking. 'Cause all in all, he's not sure he screws with Kurt for being gay. He doesn't get pissy when gay shit happens on the news, and he doesn't use her dads as a reason to mess with Berry – he messes with her for a lot of reasons, mostly for being a psycho loud loser with no tits, but he leaves her dads alone. It's weird.
("I think your seatbelt is twisted," Mrs. H tells him, and he blinks. He didn't feel it.
"Here, let me help," she says.)
"Yeah, whatever," Finn says, almost distracting him. "You know what room astronomy's meant to be in anyway?"
"How am I meant to know?" Puck asks. "Why do we even have an astronomy class?"
Finn just shrugs, which doesn't do Puck much good. He shakes his head to try and stop thinking.
("Uh, you're not fixing my seatbelt," Puck says, which is kind of obvious now she's practically sitting on him and the seatbelt is off anyway. What?
"Just relax, sweetheart," she tells him. "I promise it'll be okay.")
"Probably gonna skip it anyway," he says. "So whatever."
"You skip everything," Finn bitches.
"And you skip nothing, you pussy."
"Dude, I fail enough classes as is."
"Then just, I dunno, stop being a dumbass?" Puck suggests, and Finn glares at him.
"Dude, you barely pass more than me."
"Yeah, but I never go to class."
Finn punches him on the arm.
("What are you doing?" Puck asks, as she reaches to open his pants.
"Darling, don't play dumb," she says. She gently strokes his face, and he moves away. He doesn't know what's going on, and he really doesn't like it. "And don't be scared; it won't hurt, I promise."
"Can I call my mom?" Puck asks. "I... I kind of want to just get home."
"Then hold still," she says. "It'll be over soon, and I'll take you home. I promise."
"What do you want?" he asks. It seems like, well – sex. But he's eight; he's pretty sure he's not meant to do that yet.
Mrs. Hummel sighs. "Can I tell you a secret, Noah?" she says. He frowns. "I'm – I'm sick. I went to the doctor yesterday, and he told me I was sick. No-one else knows yet; not Burt or Kurt – I guess you're special. I think... I think I'm being punished. And if I'm already being punished... why not finally get something I want out of all this, huh? I've been holding back long enough, and, well... take pity on a sick woman?"
"I don't get it," he says. "I just – can I go?"
"No," she snaps.
Okay, he is not doing the whole traumatized flashback thing. No fucking way. It wasn't a big deal. So he lost the big V earlier than most people, and it wasn't so fun 'cause he was fucking eight – what of it? I mean, according to most people he'd have lost it pretty early even without that – thirteen, Mrs. Lawson after he cleaned her pool. Whatever. What happened with Mrs. Hummel hardly counts; he barely thinks about it.
He looks over his shoulder and sees Hummel is glaring at him, with those fucking eyes – all blue and self-righteous and–
("Why are you so upset?" she asks, staring him down. She looks... hurt. Huh, that's weird. He avoids her eyes. "Do you think I was bad or something?"
His pants are still down around his ankles. His arms are folded in front of his chest.
"Can you just take me home now... you bitch?"
She sighs. "Trying to swear like a big boy. How cute. Very well."
They start driving.)
He looks away. He does not have issues with Hummel because of the dude's mommy; he's not that much of a fucking cliche. He doesn't even care about what Katherine Hummel did to him. Seriously, he doesn't give a fuck.
He balls his fist and tries to repress the urge to punch the locker next to him, 'cause that'd probably make Finn all suspicious. Yeah, even Finn.
"Hey, dude," he says. "Hummel's pulled himself up and out and everything. Wanna go get a slushie and...?"
Finn grimaces. "Do we have to?"
"Come on, dude, it'll be fun," he says before dragging Finn off to the machine. By the time they're actually walking up to Hummel, Puck's got a whole bunch of blue ice spilling on his hand – it keeps fucking shaking. What the hell?
Hummel sees them with slushies, and sighs. "Of course. Can't be content with tormenting me once in a day, after all," he says. Finn winces a bit, which probably isn't helped when Hummel starts doing his bashful eyelash-fluttering look at him – if Finn actually notices, because the dude's an idiot like that. "Very well," Kurt says, looking at him with a piercing glare and fucking god, Puck wants to kill him. "I know you, after all. You'll never change."
("Noah? Katherine Hummel just called me; she says Kurt had invited you over next Saturday, if you wanted to–"
"No!" Puck says. His mom looks worried, and he starts looking for an excuse "I don't... I don't wanna spend time with that fag.")
None of it means anything. Puck doesn't give a fuck. And he pretends he's not relieved as hell that Hummel finally closes his fucking eyes in anticipation of the slushie.