Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, Noah, Kurt, or anything except this story (er…plot?)
Summary: Kurt first notices Puck on a drizzly afternoon in Lima.
Warning: Kinda a…well, Kurt stands up for Noah/Puck to the Glee club when they're all being asshats about knocking Quinn up. Also, slash. BoyxBoy (not right away, but still)
A/N: Thisis just after Regional's/Journey (the last episode of season 1) and before season 2, meaning it's an AU, I guess…
A/N2: Also, cross-posted on Livejournal between the PucKurt community, and Gleeverse via Sectionals for their "Tell Me A Story" challenge.
Genre: Flangstedy (Fluff-angst-comedy—cause I can't do straight flangst)
It was drizzling in Lima, Ohio that fateful afternoon. Kurt hated it when it drizzled. First off, it reminded him of Finn's horrendous baby-naming skills, and secondly, it clung to you and froze you to the bone, even if it wasn't all that cold out. Now, he'd rather not have gone for his after school jog, right after homework, but Sylvester said his hips were looking especially pear-shaped, and he could not let that happen.
Not. Happen. Ever.
It just so happened that he decided to take a detour, the scenic route, if you will, from his usual jogging path. Call it paranoia, but all those crime shows his dad liked? Completely ruined jogging for him-first of all, he became accustomed to not run a specific trail, for the fear of being just another jogger killed by some maniacal psycho, and secondly, what if someone was watching him? Oh, sure, it was only a show, until the newspapers blared out 'Local Gay Kid Murdered During Jog!'
He digresses. The mist clung to every part of his body, his exposed arms and the very tips of his eyelashes dripped with condensation. Shivering, he cut across a small field of grass and jumped over a low fence. The rush of crisp, wet air hit him like a truck. He felt free, he felt alive, he felt the stitch in his side.
Well, considering he didn't work out all the time (despite his amazing physique, thanks), he wasn't very surprised about the searing pain in his side. "Ow, ow, ow," he whined as he stopped and stretched to the side, rubbing the spot.
As he took in his surroundings, regulated his breathing, and rubbed his side, he spotted a truck off to the side. Upon closer inspection, he nodded slowly at the familiar silhouette of Puck. How it was familiar was beyond him, he just knew that Mohawk couldn't be duplicated in its atrocity.
Walking over to the truck, he knocked on the window, much to the shock of Puck—if the startled jump and yelp was anything to go by. He fought down a grin as Puck rolled the window down. "What, Kurt?" he snapped.
"Touchy," Kurt sniffed disdainfully, "I was just coming over to see if you were alright—sitting in an abandoned parking lot, in your truck while it rains can cause some unwanted gossip-,"
"Yeah, like what?" Puck hadn't looked at him since he rolled the window down.
"…Like…" Kurt took in the rumpled clothing, the red-rimmed eyes, and the blotchy complexion. "You're crying."
"No I'm not," Puck negated this declaration with a stubborn wipe of his eyes. "What are you even doing out?" Puck sneered at him, the effect lost at the completely hopeless shine in his eyes. "Thought the mist would've been worth a day in for you, and you're so in an abandoned parking lot, too," he added.
"As badly sarcastic as you are, no," Kurt shook his head, "My hips are looking pear-y lately, and I decided to restart my jogging—and I never take the same route more than a whole week—never know when a serial killer wants blood," he smiled when Puck gave a weak smile.
"What do you want, Kurt?" Puck asked wearily.
Kurt scrunched his eyebrows together thoughtfully. What did he want? Aside from Puckerman looking like he needed a good ol' bear hug, there was nothing Kurt could do—or really wanted to do, if he was being honest with himself. Resigning himself to his fate, he unlocked the passenger side and climbed in without a word. "Well, considering it looks like someone just ran over your dog, I'm thinking you need someone to talk to," he said at last, after rolling the window up and wiping at the water that stuck to the leather.
"I don't need anyone to talk to," Puck grumbled, sitting back and crossing his arms stubbornly.
"Yeah, you know, I do that too—go out to an abandoned parking lot while it rains and cry—mostly because I just felt like it, ya know?" he didn't dwell on the fact that he just said 'ya'.
Puck rolled his eyes. "Look, Kurt, I'm just going through-,"
"Is this about Quinn?"
"Why would it be about her?" he snarled.
Kurt jerked back in surprise. "Because you just had a baby together-,"
"From the way she's handling it, I'm not part of it," Puck's voice cracked on the last note. "She didn't really give me much choice on if I wanted to keep Beth, either…she just assumed it was all for the best…" he turned to stare out the window.
Kurt felt his chest clench painfully at the broken sight before him. He tentatively rested his hand on Puck's shoulder, only to have a sobbing Puck throw his arms around his stomach. The initial shock wore off, with the help of Puck's tears soaking through the flimsy sleeveless shirt he had on. Patting Puck's back clumsily, he tried to process what was happening.
He found Puck in an elementary school parking lot at 4:30 in the afternoon, crying in his truck. He decided to help Puck, despite not being welcome. And now…now he had an arm full of Noah Puckerman messing his shirt up.
Good thing it wasn't designer.
That thought seemed to have snapped him out of his shocked shock, as he gathered Puck into his arms, making soothing sounds that he remembers his mom using after a nightmare, and rubbing his hand over the strip of hair Puck called a hairstyle.
Meanwhile, Puck babbled on about everything that hurt him. "I would've been a good dad—I would've loved her like no other and I would've spoiled her rotten, just to see her smile!" he sniffled loudly. "I could've loved Quinn, too…I could've made us a family, and we could've been happy together!"
"I know…I know…" Kurt couldn't place the clench in his chest for the jealousy of 'normalcy' Puck had, or the pitiful sight in his arms.
"I'd have even gotten another job—not the pool cleaning one—just to keep Quinn and Beth living like a Queen and Princess, like they deserve…I didn't have to like other guh…guh…I could've made myself love Quinn!"
"I know…" Made himself love Quinn? Isn't that why they were in the situation in the first place? Because he was in love with Quinn? Of course he didn't have to like other…guh…girls… He meant girls. Even though guh sounds an awful lot like guys, if Kurt really stopped to think about it. Which he did.
"I even started buying clothes for Beth—she'll never see any of it, now that she's with Ms. Corcoran…" he let out a shuddering sob and buried his face deeper into Kurt's side. Kurt gulped. He didn't want to admit he'd done the same thing. He wasn't going to let slip he was excited they'd be having a Glee-baby and that baby-Beth would've been the most spoiled, loved child in existence in Lima. He continued rubbing Puck's mohawk and back.
Time passed by—he lost track of how long it's been—but Puck's sobs have subsided into small hiccoughs and the occasional sniffle. He has yet to pull away, so Kurt continues the soothing voice, along with murmured comforts. "You'd have been a great dad," he whispered, only to renew a fresh round of sobs.
At long last, it's possibly dinnertime by now, Puck pulls back. Kurt studies his face, looking for a trace of any tears left in those tear ducts of his. His face is red and blotchy, his eyes bloodshot, and he has crying-snot running from his nose.
Kurt should want to be disgusted by this—he should want to run far, far away—and he definitely should want to hurt Puck for ruining a shirt of his (he's counting that little hissy fit as a moot argument, as this was his dad's shirt, actually). He shouldn't want to pull Puck back into an embrace and kiss and love away all the pain he's going through. "It'll be okay, you know," he whispered. He still wanted to show Puck that he was still loved—even if those feelings weren't his own…
He. Should. Not. Be. Thinking. That!
He is spared the awkward by Puck kicking him out of the truck and driving away before Kurt even has time to be fully embarrassed by the snot stains and tear stains on his shirt, and the tear tracks on his own cheeks.
The next time Kurt sees Puck, he's against the lockers with Jacob Ben-Israel shoving a mic into his face. He nears enough to hear Jacob question Puck about Beth. Puck barely even conceals the wince. Kurt stomps over, grabs the mic from Jacob and faces the camera himself.
"Any and all questions to Puck about anything ever again have to go through my lawyer—and I assure you, Jacob, I will press charges for slander and harassment against you," he snapped. He thrust the microphone into Jacob's chest and gave his best HBIC face as the cameraman and Jacob scurried off.
He turned to give Puck a soft smile. "You okay?" he asked.
Puck was glaring at the floor. "I didn't need your help," he grumbled.
Kurt frowned but sniffed, "Fine," he squared his shoulders but leaned forward, "But the Noah Puckerman that was in the truck yesterday did," he turned and strutted away.
It's Glee club time, and Kurt is last to arrive—thanks to a slushie facial from Azimio. That boy, he swears, will be the next Patches…
He walks in, and stops short at the sight. He's never noticed it before, what with being better than everyone, but there are sub-groups to this group.
There are three to be exact. One with Finn, which consisted of the boys, and Rachel; then there was with Quinn, which had the girls—barred Rachel. He usually sat with Mercedes, so he was included in the Quinn grouping, he supposed.
The last group was Puck. All by himself. Sitting in the back, on the high risers, with two chairs on either side of him, unoccupied—and it's clear that whatever chairs that weren't being used had prompted both groups to grab new chairs, rather than sit beside him.
Mercedes waved at him, but Kurt just nodded his head once to her and walked up the two stairs, sitting primly next to Puck—to the shock of everyone. When Shuester walked in, Puck barely moved his lips when he muttered, "You're committing social suicide by sitting with me."
Kurt smirked, and with so much as murmuring, he replied, "I'm in Glee and gay—not much lower I can go." He didn't miss the small smile Noah—when did it become Noah?—gave at his words.
After practice, he was cornered by the girls—all of the girls—and Artie. Quinn and Finn weren't anywhere to be seen. He waited.
"What the hell are you doing?" Mercedes demanded.
"I fail to grasp your meaning, Cedes," Kurt replied with a bored expression.
"Nuh-uh, white boy, you know exactly what I'm talkin' 'bout," she crossed her arms in annoyance. "Why are you suddenly so 'Pro-Puck'?"
"You realize what he's done—what he could've caused in this club, right?" Tina asked waspishly.
"Yeah, homo—Puck ain't gon' be interested in your ass, anyways," Santana snapped.
Kurt's face paled but he remained silent. He didn't sit with Noah because he thought he'd get some action out of it—how petty did these people think he was?
"Kurt, I know it may seem like a good idea—befriending the only person who doesn't have any friends—but you can do so much better than Puck—he usually ruins things," Artie said solemnly. At least Artie didn't seem to like saying it, but rather needed to say it.
Kurt's fingers clutched his bag tightly. He was not going to snap at them—they were just trying to look out for him. Right? Right.
"He royally screwed Quinn and Finn up—personally, I think he's getting what he's been deserving," Rachel sniffed in disdain.
Kurt snapped his eyes open and he glared heatedly at her. "Yeah, because making Quinn cheat on Finn was so hard, right?" he glared directly at Rachel, "Just like making Finn cheat on Quinn was difficult—was it, Berry, was it hard making Finn kiss you?"
"W-what?" Rachel looked like she'd been slapped.
"Please, I was in the damned auditorium when you were 'practicing'," he spat out the word. "I see nothing different in what you and Finn did, as opposed to what Quinn and Noah did—the only difference was that Finn rejected you after the kiss and ran off," she looked near tears.
"Also, I don't see how this would've screwed the club up—it's not like Quinn and Noah get any solos anyways, not with Rachel and Finn hogging them," he scoffed as he drew himself up to his full height. "Do all of you have the emotional capacity of a teaspoon? You've never once thought about how this has effected Noah—how it could affect him?" he scoffed. "Of course not—we're talking about Puck, after all, right? Nerves of steel, no feelings whatsoever?" he snorted—he'd deny it later—but he did. "I'm shocked and appalled at the small-mindedness of this club—so they made a mistake—at least Noah tried to own up to it," he righted his bangs in agitation.
"No, this is completely different!" Tina stammered.
"How?" Kurt crossed his arms, clutching the strap of his messenger bag so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Quinn let Finn think that Beth was his all those months, lived with him after her parents kicked her out, and was even making Finn pay her medical bills until someone told him," he gave Rachel a pointed look.
She looked down and away. "Enlighten me, oh wise ones, how is Noah any worse than Quinn? I'm betting that Puck tried to be there for her the minute he found out and figured it wasn't Finn's, because as much as I loved the boy—he's dumb as rocks when he wants to be,"
They all stared at him in shocked silence. "Kurt…" Brittany said softly.
He softened towards her. She, at least, didn't blame Noah—not in a direct way at least—she was just following Santana's lead. "Oh, and me sitting with Noah, Santana, was not me trying to get lucky—that was me being a friend to someone who needed it," he slipped passed the group and out into the hall. As he exited the building, he sat on the front steps and cursed repeatedly, and with flair, about life in general. He didn't even care his pants were going to be dirty.
The door creaked open and a warm body sat next to his. He ceased his cursing, but didn't look up. "You really told them, didn't you, Kurt?" Noah asked with a hint of sarcasm.
Kurt snorted disdainfully. "As in ripped Rachel a new one, at the same time as defending you…maybe," he still had his face squished against his legs.
They sat in relative silence before Noah stood and grabbed Kurt's hand. "C'mon…we're going to this diner in town and ordering their greasiest burger with fries and a shake and we're going to be melodramatic together about the woes of high school," he said in a mocking air of superiority.
"Because you just told off your only friends, to defend someone who barely counts as a friend—and that deserves a good old binge fest-,"
"It'll go straight to my hips," he complained lamely as he was dragged towards Puck's truck. He had to take the bus the last couple of days—his baby was in the shop.
"Your hips are fine—if I'm honest, they look great—so shut up and get in," Noah snorted as he pulled the passenger side door open, and then went around to his own side.
Kurt didn't dwell on the possibly gay compliment, and instead chose to comment on the weather—okay, no. Okay, yes. "It's nice out, isn't it?"
"Seriously? The weather?" Kurt glared at him. "Yes, it's nice—but I think it's going to rain, maybe,"
"Why do you say that?" Kurt asked as he played with a button from his jacket.
"I can smell it," Noah opened his window and let out a long whiff of air. Kurt fought down the smile and shook his head. "So…care to tell me why you stuck your neck out like that for me?"
"Well…when one is brutally attacked by snot ninjas and tear monsters, one has to think that the person is in need of a friend and has feelings…and when monsters and ninjas attack a specific person, that person usually feels the need to be there,"
"So, basically because I cried on you, I suddenly need help?"
"Not help per se—more be there and/or gain a friend…?" he added the end as a question—just because the guy cried and soiled his shirt, didn't mean he was expecting a friendship out of it.
Although that kind of situation should come with a requirement of instant friendship.
It's their third time going to the same diner, and ordering the same thing. His skin is definitely going to hate him for it. It was also a week into summer vacation, and he hadn't seen much of his other Glee friends, besides Noah. He was oddly okay with it. "C'mon, Puckerman—I could so beat you if I were to play Rainbow Road with you!"
"No way, dude—I've been playing Mario Kart for years—you're a newbie at it and I'd crush you easily!" Puck countered with a scoff.
"Please—you said I couldn't-,"
"What's going on here?" Noah tensed as he looked up and frowned when he seen Karofsky and Azimio. "Two fags getting all chummy?" Karofsky snorted derisively.
Kurt glared at him. "I wouldn't joke like that, Karofsky—Azimio and you look awfully close to be just friends," he sneered, staring down his nose at them, despite having to look up. It happened so fast—he didn't know what to make of it. One second Karofsky and Azimio are making a grab for him, and the next he's squished against a muscled chest while the two Neanderthal jocks are on the ground.
"Just get lost, dudes, we were having a good convo about Rainbow Road and how I'd school him at it," Noah growled angrily. The other two jocks scrambled upwards and attempted to make threats as they exited the diner. After awkwardly letting Kurt out of the embrace he had him in, he sat down and pushed around a fry.
Kurt sat down slowly, "Thanks…for not letting them…well…"
"No problem," Noah muttered.
Kurt wracked his brain for something to break the awkward silence. "And you would so not own me at Rainbow Road!" he exclaimed after the appropriate amount of silence.
Noah grinned and rolled his eyes. "I would so own you," he scoffed and waved Kurt off dismissively. "First of all, I'd hit you with a blue shell if you did manage to pass me, and secondly, you'd be so amazed by my guns that you'd go off the side,"
"Please, your 'guns'," he did air-quotes, "Would not have that affect on me," he took a long pull of his chocolate milkshake as he waited for Noah's rebuttal. The waitress brought over a takeout bag he was getting for his dad. His order was a bit more healthy than the double bacon cheeseburgers Noah and Kurt had, but the big portion of fries should distract him from the chicken burger.
"I'd own you twenty times over," he countered.
"You can't even count to twenty!"
Noah flashed him a predatory smirk, one that sent shivers down his spine. "You're lucky we're in public, Kurt," he said in a tone that suggested…things. Dirty things…very dirty things…
Okay, so he may have been reading into it too much…but he raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Why?" he challenged.
Noah leaned forward, raised his own eyebrow while swiping his tongue over his teeth. "Do you honestly want to know?"
"I think I do…" Kurt didn't back down.
Noah snorted and leaned back, "You've got balls," he commented.
"I was born with them…so…"
"Cheeky bastard," Noah grinned and flicked a fry at him.
Kurt caught it before it could touch his clothes or hair and stuck his tongue out at him. Puck smiled. "C'mon—we better get out of here before it really starts raining," he threw down some money and got up, Kurt copying his actions.
"Fine, but you can drop me off at my dad's garage—I should've been there an hour ago,"
"Damn, Hummel—why didn't you say so?"
"He won't mind—not when I'm making new friends," Kurt smiled at that, "At least, I'll be telling him that so he lays off,"
Noah chuckled and rolled his eyes. They continued the conversation about friendship, and then started talking about things deeper than friendship, and by the time they reached Hummel's Tire and Lube, Kurt had the inkling something deeper was going on.
It didn't take a genius to figure out the tension in the truck as it came to a stop. "So…thanks for the ride," he said as he tugged at his sweater.
Noah smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "No problem, dude," he got out and opened Kurt's door. Completely cheesy, thought Kurt with a smile. Completely cheesy, yes—won some brownie points, though.
He slipped out and around Noah with another smile, grabbing the takeout. "Thanks," he walked backwards, waved and turned to head inside. The misty rain was ruining his hair, but he could deal—he would just wear one of his dad's hats…
"Wait, Kurt!" Kurt turned and was shocked to find lips against his, hands on the sides of his face and the mist condensing on his person. When Noah pulled back, face flushed, Kurt remained frozen to the spot.
His first kiss…
Noah Puckerman kissed him! He should be freaking out, hitting Noah for stealing his first kiss, but all he could do was touch his lips without moving anything else. When there was a cleared throat, he snapped out of his daze and noticed for the first time that Noah was staring at his shoes.
Probably having a freak out of his own—rejection freak out, or a gay freak out? He didn't wait as he pulled Noah towards him, via chin, and planted a firm kiss on those plump lips. He let out a low, contented sigh as Noah wound his arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. Kurt's hands stayed on his hips and nibbled at Noah's lower lip. He opened his eyes and found Noah's beautiful hazel eyes gazing back before they slipped shut. He pulled back briefly to look over Noah's rain soaked face, droplets of water sliding down his face. He let out a low groan of want and dived back in with another kiss.
They were interrupted from their first makeout by another cleared throat. Kurt pulled away from the kiss and turned his head to look over his shoulder. Noah instantly dropped his arms and the flush darkened deeply as Burt Hummel stared at the two.
"Mr. Hummel," Noah cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm…Noah," he offered weakly at the glare he was receiving.
Kurt huffed and gave his dad an expectant look. "Dad."
Burt sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Burt," he said at long last as he walked closer, putting the umbrella in his hand over the other two. He turned to look at Kurt and frowned, "You were supposed to be here an hour ago…" he glanced towards Noah.
"Noah brought me out to Lu Lu's diner on Spencerville…for their lunch…" he trailed off for a second, "And we brought you takeout?" he held up the takeout bag he forgot he had. Burt's demeanor changed from disdain to delighted surprise.
"Fine—no more funny business, though—and get in there to work…" he glanced at Noah again and frowned. "And bring Mohawk around for dinner sometime soon," he turned and walked away, leaving the umbrella with the two teens.
Kurt let out a low breath before looking shyly at Noah. "Would you like to come to dinner sometime this weekend?" he asked nervously.
Noah bashfully grinned and shrugged. "I've got nothing but time this summer," he said before clearing his throat and standing a bit taller. "And I ain't being the girl," he pointed a finger with mock authority at Kurt's chest.
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm assuming you mean if we ever perform coitus?"
"Um…if coitus means having totally awesome hot sex, then yeah, coitus," Puck gave him a replica grin from the diner.
So he wasn't reading into the look too much! Kurt smirked. "I think I can handle that…but you are being the bottom at least once, I'm not going to let that go until it happens," he leaned closer to Noah and bit his lower lip. "And I'll definitely make it good," he winked as Noah stared openly at him with darkened eyes. He flounced into the garage without the umbrella and waved enthusiastically from the front display window.
Noah waved back lazily, still holding the umbrella. Kurt smirked. At least the umbrella gave Noah the incentive to come back and return it…
Oh wow…this was 4 times the amount of words needed for this challenge…
Well, it only needed to be like, a hundred words (for 5 points), with a limit of 50 points (aka 1000 words) and this is about…4 times that…so…if they didn't have a cap on points, I'd probably have about 210 points…that's if it weren't capped at 50 points xD
Sorry guys, it got away from me and took a life of its own on…
Also, prompted on the fic meme on PucKurt on Livejournal with "Kurt first notices Puck on a drizzly Monday afternoon in Lima."
Review with words? (Or just random awesomeness!)