Disclaimer-I don't own Glee

Falling For the Wrong Guy

Summary: At 17 years old, all I've learnt about relationships, from my fellow Glee clubbers, is that they break down. Still, I, Kurt Hummel, can't help but fall in love over and over again with the wrong guy. Will I ever get it right? Kurt/OCs Eventual Kurt/Puck

I'm British so I will write colour and realise and other British words/phrases will no doubt occur. If that bothers you, don't read.

This is a Glee fic, don't like Glee? Go away then.

This story will feature homosexual relationships and general gayness. Are you a homophobe? Fuck off then you narrow-minded dick-head of a ring-piece.

Ultimately this is a Kurt/Puck pairing. Don't like them together? Really? Why not? Strange, click the back button, darling.

Oh you're still reading? You love Glee, have no prejudice against gay/lesbian/bisexual/straight/whatever, love PucKurt/Purt/Pummel, brilliant. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1-K is for Kurt

My name is Kurt Hummel and I'm seventeen years old. I am not your typical teenage boy, thank you very much. Sports? Oh Gaga, no. I can do things so much more valuable with my precious time than run around after different shaped balls trying to score different forms of goals. Also, the outfits are a total nightmare. Fashion is a tremendous thing and I pride myself on having incredible taste. There's no way I'd take the choice of sport wear over the likes of Marc Jacobs and Armani.

If I may, I'd like to be perfectly honest. In this town of Lima, the place I reluctantly call my home, I am the most superior being for miles. I'm so much better than the brainless Neanderthals and stereotypical slutty cheerleader types. My dress sense is fabulous, as is my hair; my personality is in my opinion wonderful. In fact, I'm such an amazing person that so many are blinded by it and fail to see just how incredible I am. Oh the stupidity of those without talent, it is so beyond pitiful.

Then there's my stunning vocal ability. My singing voice is perhaps my greatest asset, though it's so hard to decide on my best quality since I have so many good ones. Classic Broadway and Show tunes are of course something I adore. There is also the supreme icon that is Lady Gaga, a beautifully talented woman who dares to take fashion to new extremes. Oh I worship her greatness.

Oh, I also happen to be gay. A lot of homophobic morons seem to have a problem with that. They send me dirty looks and call me nasty names, afraid that they might catch the 'gay' off me. Ridiculous, sexuality is not contagious. If it was, I would so have stalked down Johnny Depp and attacked him with my fairy dust by now before claiming him as my own. Though I fully expect if such a thing were possible it would not work out between Johnny and me in the long run. He has too many fans and they'd no doubt murder me in a jealous rage, which is entirely understandable. I mean, 'hello', its Johnny Depp!

Despite being as awesome as I undoubtedly I am, I must confess that I'm a loser. Though I like to think I'm so awesome because I'm a loser. However, I'm not a loser by myself. My friends are losers too. We're all in the McKinley High School Glee Club together. Yes, show choir. We sing, we dance, we get taunted by our peers on a daily basis but whether we're bullied and teased or not, we still kick ass when we perform. Of course, our performances would be even better if Mr. Schue, that's our director, would give me more solos rather than handing them all over to Rachel Berry.

Now, atrocious fashion sense and horrible personality aside, Rachel is a talented singer, I don't deny that. But, truth be told, I'm better. As much as I love to stand in the spotlight and command attention, I'd like some of the other members of New Directions to have their chance to shine too. It shouldn't always be about Rachel and Finn.

My best friend, the wonderfully gorgeous diva Mercedes Jones, has a phenomenal voice. Her singing is so rich and powerful, she always gives me goose bumps. Santana has more of a rasp and twang to her voice. Even from a homosexual point of view, there's something sexy about her tone. Her voice is different, interesting. Then there's Quinn. Though she doesn't boast the most powerful of lungs her voice is so gentle and beautiful. Tina's voice is equally as lovely and Brittany has the ability to sing without losing her breath even as she pulls off incredible dance moves.

As for the boys, Finn, our male lead is actually kind of average. He plays the drums really well and though he can sing there's nothing exceptional about it. And don't even get me started on his dancing. Mike, well ok, he can't sing. But boy can he dance. In my opinion, Artie has an underrated voice. Hearing him sing, his voice can sound ordinary but there's something about it, about him. He's the only person I know that can pull off any song and make it his own in ways no-one else could. Sam, who totally dyes his hair, has a good voice as does Puck. Ok, Puck, I'll begrudgingly admit, has a sexy voice. Like Sam, he can play guitar. That's about all Puck has going for him. Even though he's in Glee with me, Puck's the only one I don't think of as a friend. I even consider Santana a friend, but Puck? No.

Still, for the most part, the guys and girls in Glee are my friends. Now, what would I do without them? Well, if I didn't have them as friends I'd probably be at home right now watching a musical and giving myself a manicure. Instead, I'm kneeling on a bathroom floor puking my guts out. Oh yuck, that's disgusting. I can feel a huge lump of vomit lodged in my throat, I hate that. It's slowly making its way up. Oh, ok here it comes. And there it goes. Splattering everywhere and completely missing the toilet bowl, perfect. Now here comes my breakfast. I'm just having such a delightful time; this party is super fun… not. At least I have Santana here to rub my back.

Mercedes would be here but she has too weak a stomach to handle the sight of vomit, not that I blame her. Santana has no issue with it though. The only thing that grosses her out is Rachel and Finn's cheesy love duets. Ok, that probably wasn't the best thing to think about in my current state. There I go, puking again. I knew I shouldn't have accepted a drink prepared by Brittany.

When I'd finally emptied the contents of my stomach, Santana helped me to stand on shaking legs and I washed the puke off my face and wiped my sweaty brow.

"Shit, Kurt, you should come look at this." Santana said in awe as she looked at my puke that was floating in the toilet. "I've never seen such disgusting sick from anyone."

She smirked at me as if she had offered me a huge compliment. I just rolled my eyes and shook my head. I'd never understand that girl.

"I hate being sick." I grumbled as I shuddered slightly from the putrid taste in my mouth.

Santana just laughed as she swung back her black hair. Her eyes held no sympathy, only amusement. Bitch.

"Well, Hummel, this is what happens when you're such a lightweight." She sniggered at me.

"You're evil." I told her lamely as my head throbbed.

"True." Santana stated proudly. "I consider it a natural gift."

I didn't reply. I just rubbed my temples in an attempt to alleviate the pounding in my brain.

"Can we go home now?" I asked as we finally emerged from the bathroom.

"Don't be so boring, Hummel." Santana huffed, her sun kissed skin glowing under the light. "It's only ten-thirty."

"Yes and I'm already hammered, my breath smells like vomit, I'm sweaty, disgusting and some inferior being spilled something on my $300 jeans." I complained.

"And despite all that, your hair still looks good." Santana told me and as we found Mercedes, Tina and Brittany dancing and having a good time, I knew we wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

"I'm going to go get some air." I told them before stumbling through the drunken bodies in my way and stepping out the back door into the yard, breathing in the night air.

Whose house was this anyway I thought to myself as I looked up at the sky, admiring the sparkling stars. They really were quite beautiful, or maybe they just looked more appealing when I was drunk. Clouds seemed to be rolling in as well, suggesting that it might rain. Oh Gaga, I knew I should have brought a coat or umbrella.

I was on my way back inside when I stood in something. I looked down and whimpered as I discovered that I had walked through dog mess. Perfect, I'm wearing a pair of Tina's Goth boots. She's going to murder me.

Groaning, I tried to wipe the dog mess off in the grass, all the while wondering what I should do with my last moments of life before Tina found out I'd ruined her shoes. Maybe because we're friends she might let me choose how I die. What should I have? Suffocation? Drowning? Stabbing? Ooh, maybe a beheading like they did in medieval times? Yes, I think I'll request a beheading.

"Alright there, Hummel?" A voice asked from the shadows.

"Who's that?" I asked as I swayed slightly on my feet.

Then I heard a chuckle, a very distinctive chuckle that could only belong to one person.

"Puck?" I asked anyway just to be sure.

"The one and only." He replied as he stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. "So, how much have you had to drink?"

"Oh just, you know, too much." I answered and gave a nervous laugh.

"I can see that." He said in amusement and then he did that bad boy smirk thing he does. I so despise when he pulls that completely unattractive expression, it makes my stomach clench in a most unusual fashion.

"Would you like to kiss me?" I blurted out unexpectedly.

"What?" He asked sounding stunned. "Dude, did you really just ask if I wanted to kiss you?"

"I didn't ask if you wanted to," I scoffed. "I asked if you'd like to. There's a difference. And don't call me 'dude'; please I am not one of your 'bro's'."

"So sorry to have caused offence." Puck replied sarcastically raising his hands in surrender. "But hey, you totally wanna make-out with me. That's kinda cute."

"Oh please, I have no such interest in you or your lips." I remarked. "I merely asked because I'm going to be put to death soon anyway, so I may as well go out with a kiss and since you're the only boy available you'll have to do."

"Huh?" Puck asked raising an eyebrow. He shouldn't do that; he can't pull it off like I can. "Are you on drugs or summat? You're not gonna die."

"Oh I am." I assured him with a beaming smile. "Tina's going to kill me. I've ruined her boots you see?"

I lifted my foot up to show him the ruined shoe and I overbalanced and tumbled into his muscular arms. Too muscular for my taste. He probably takes steroids. He stood me upright and I burst out laughing.

"You know, I think I like you better when you're drunk." Puck told me.

"Thanks." I said as I glared at the stubble on his chin and cheeks. "You need to shave. I don't like facial hair."

"Oh, well I do apologise for offending your eyes." He replied with a slight bow. Was he mocking me? Oh well, I'm too drunk to care.

"It is possible that I would forgive you, but I've already forgotten what you were apologising for. I suppose because I deem any conversation with you as unimportant and therefore not worth remembering." I told him. I noticed I was still in his arms and quickly stepped away.

I took a deep breath and placed my hands on my hips before looking up at him. I wondered if he was actually going to kiss me or not. Hopefully not, I was beginning to feel quite nauseous again and Noah Puckerman just isn't my type. I mean he's an ok guy I guess, if you ignore almost everything about him, and he isn't ugly, he's just not my type.

"I'm not going to kiss you." Puck told me as if he'd read my mind. Though that was a ridiculous notion. He couldn't possibly read my mind. My mind wasn't a book.

"Like I'd even want you to." I retaliated with a scoff. He just smiled. He really shouldn't smile like that, it doesn't suit him.

"Don't take it in an offensive way." He said. "I just prefer to have people sober when I kiss them."

"How respectful of you." I replied as I felt cold splashes on my shoulders as the rain began to pour down. I giggled like a maniac and began spinning around on the spot until I became too dizzy and fell into Puck's arms again.

"I think I should get you home." Puck said decisively leading me indoors. "Your old man will have a fit when he sees the state you're in."

"Won't." I said as I let him direct me away. "I have my dad wrapped around my finger. He won't like me being with you though. You have a mohawk and a bad reputation."

"I'm sure your dad will overlook that when I get you home in one piece." Puck told me.

"The girls." I said as we stepped back inside the house.

"They'll be fine." He assured me. "Finn and the other guys are still here. They'll make sure everyone gets home safely."

For some reason, climbing into Puck's car was a great challenge. Normally I could slink gracefully into any car. I liked cars. My dad was a mechanic and I helped him out at the garage sometimes. Way to break the gay stereotype right? It must be the alcohol responsible for my lack of elegance tonight. Or maybe Puck just had a pathetic excuse for a car. Or maybe it was Puck himself who was pathetic, yes that seemed plausible as he helped me into the passenger seat and strapped me in.

"Do watch where you place your hands, Puckerman." I snapped at him.

I didn't travel well. If I was behind the wheel then I was fine, but if someone else was driving it was a different story. The fact that I'd been drinking didn't help matters. That's probably why I puked over Puck's lap.

"Thanks for that." Puck said sarcastically.

"You're welcome." I told him as we pulled up outside my house.

There was a small group of people walking down the street making a lot of noise. It was possible they'd come from the party as well, or another one.

"Think you can make it to the door alright?" Puck asked me as he unbuckled my seatbelt for me and I stepped ungracefully out of the car.

"Yes, fine." I answered as I walked round the car and onto the path.

The crowd of people were walking past my house and I bumped into one of them and we both fell to the ground. Groaning in slight pain, I looked up and took the hand that was offered to me. That's when I fell for a second time. Not physically no, something much more significant than that.

Still holding his hand, I looked at the boy stood in front of me and in that moment I fell in love.

So… worth continuing?

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Love and Hugs, IceQueenRia xxx