He loves Santana. Loves her much more than she deserves, actually.

The bitch.

He's always loved the way her hips sway when she walks, jutting out impetuously and hipnotically, yet slow and simple. Always loved her everything, really.

She's like a fuckload of dysfunctional sex appeal. Dangerous and tantalizing. So insane, but gripping.

The only problem with all this is the fact that Santana doesn't love him back. She loves his body, loves to fuck him; occasionally loves to fuck him over, too.

But that's it.

:::...:::

When Quinn comes into his life, everything starts looking different. Everything sounds prettiert, everything tastes better; things are sharper, more defined.

Life is new.

Quinn is blonde, and beautiful in an angelical way; so different from Santana's raunchiness, from her open sexuality, from those smoldering eyes that burn so intensely. Quinn is pure, she is unattainable.

(And as everything else that he can't reach, Finn gets her; even though he doesn't adore her the way Puck does.

It's no excuse for what he does, but he does love her.)

:::...:::

Rachel is a sad attempt to make peace with the lord.

He doesn't like her that much, but she's jewish.

(At least she's hot.)

:::...:::

Mercedes is... Fuck, she's a whole other kind of business. She's streets apart from Santana, and Quinn, and even Rachel.

She's got soul like nobody else, and she cares little to no attention to whatever the McKinley losers think.

She's her own girl. Brave and upstanding, and strong. And she's one hell of an attravtive woman. She's fat, yeah, but she's got all the curves, and all the attitude to pull that off. She's smart, and disrespectful in a confident way.

She's freaking amazing. And he could come to love her.

In any case, he wishes he could. Because, unlike pretty much everyone else, she'd treat him like an actual person. Not like an asset, or a hot disposable body, or a mistake.

It's too bad that Mercedes is too self-respecting to sit around and wait for someone like him to fall in love with her.

:::...:::

He doesn't see Kurt coming.

In the most literal sense. The day everything starts between them, they have the nastiest collision to end all collisions in the middle of a deserted hallway (clichéd much?). There is much snark, and a flustered Hummel walking away with as much dignity as possible.

And Puck is left behind staring at his ass.

Which is something else that he doesn'r see coming.

But, what the hell, Kurt Hummel is hot. Admitting it doesn't make Puck gay. A hot body is a hot body, and that's it.

But it does. Make him gay. Very, very gay. Way gay.

Because, as it turns out, it's not just the ass, or the legs that go on for hours, or those lips that would look great wrapped around his dick.

It's more than that. It's Kurt stopping him after glee club and apologizing for being a jerk to him in the moment that followed their impact; it's Kurt smiling at him and asking him if he needs a ride.

It's Puck saying yeah, that sounds good for no apparent reason.

It's having a great fucking conversation about their musical tastes, and why The Beatles are just so fucking better than the Stones, all the way to his house.

It's Kurt waving him goodbye in that strange finger wiggling way of his, before driving away.

And, finally, it's Puck thinking that he'd want to repeat that experience.

So, yeah, way gay.

:::...:::

Kurt is stronger than anyone he's ever met in his life (except for his mom, that is); he's proud, and even though people treat him like shit, he acts like he's the best thing that's ever happened to McKinley fucking High. He's got confidence in spades, and he's the got a bearing that makes Santana look like Laura Ingalls.

But he's also one of the nicest people Puck's ever met. He's there for his friends when they need him; he's there to help Tina with her hair after a slushie ambush, he's there to send the most scathing retort ever to a fellow cheerleader when she calls Brittany 'dumb', he's always there for his girl Mercedes.

He's too good. Too good for this school, too good for this town.

Too good for him.

He still ends up kissing the guy (hot and frantically, and pushing him against a row of lockers in front of anyone who might care to watch, and groping his ass for a few seconds before settling both hands on those sinful hips), because he's never been any good at keeping himself away from what he wants (likes, loves).

When he steps away from Kurt and he sees the look on his eyes, he thinks that maybe that may turn out okay for him –for them- , right now.

:::...:::