** First Glee fic! I read the Puckurt fanfics and decided to make one of my own. Please read and review! Karofsky kisses Kurt, but after the confusion between them, he bashes Kurt and leaves him to bleed out in the locker room. Puck comes to the locker room, discovering Kurt, and fixes him up. Some Puckurt goodness in there! 3
Disclaimer! I do not own Glee or any of it's characters or anything like that!
"That piece of shit's gonna get it now!"
Karofsky's eyes were transfixed on the slim boy, standing next to his locker, and assumingly looking at his gorgeous reflection. Staring at that boy gave the giant mixed feelings, as in his eyes Kurt was the enemy, as well as the forbidden fruit. He couldn't stop his thoughts as his mind drifted to a picture of Kurt, shirtless, emerging from the ocean with his hair wet and body glistening with small droplets… Shit. Karofsky immediately stopped his fantasy in time to stop the bulge forming in his jeans. That just made the bully angrier. The boy intimidated him, because he was able to be out and proud, and could have any guy he wanted, with that hot body and nice ass. He, Dave, however, had to deny his feelings, and the constant battles in his head were getting the best of him. Kurt was so going to pay for the mental torment he was causing the football player.
The larger boys creeped up, slowly like a fox, to Kurt's locker. He slammed it hard, not really giving a shit about whether Kurt's delicate hands would forever be bruised if caught in the door.
"Hey fag," Karofsky whispered deviously into the trembling boy's ear.
Kurt's feet crumbled, and the shaking boy slipped to the floor. "Not again, please! Not like last time…" Kurt's mind was racing. No matter how strong the diva pretended to be, his strength was about to betray him. The petite boy collapsed, and shut his eyes, trying to block out the thoughts of the pain about to come. Come on, Kurt. You can do this. He can't break you inside- The pep talk was interrupted by a loud thud against the locker. A jolt of pain shot up through Kurt's spine. Usually that would be enough to leave the bully satisfied. Today, however, Karofsky was in a particularly crappy mood as a fellow football player called him fat. And, because a certain singer had been clouding this mind ever since two weeks ago. It was completely irritating, and the big guy, always in control of any situation, couldn't control his emotions! So, in this particularly horrible mood, the confused teen was determined to give Kurt hell.
"Please," the single word escaped the broken boy's lips before his senses and pride could stop him. This was Kurt Hummel. Not some pussy that couldn't defend himself, for Christ's sake.
"Oh, gonna beg me, pretty boy," Karofsky growled against the prey's ear, and gave him a punch in the face.
Blood trickled down Kurt's lips from his nose, which was soaked in a bright-red liquid.. The left side of his face that collided with the first hard fist, swelled up. A purple patch spread across the perfect porcelain skin. Kurt brought his shaking fingers to the new color and flinched at the abrupt shot of pain.
"You can't win this, Neanderthal," mumbled Kurt, threatening the jock as best as he could manage with his quivering voice.
"I'm not scared of a homo," Karofsky laughed before landing another smack to Kurt's face.
The huge football player picked up Kurt by the front of his white, leather jacket and brought him to face the jock. His alcohol-stained breath lingered on Kurt's face, causing a look of pure disgust from the slim teen.
Punch after punch, kick after kick, and penetrated Kurt's weak body. Blood spewed from the singer's mouth, as a strong foot kicked his lips and mouth, breaking a tooth. More blood gushed from his mouth, and his beautiful face swelled from the powerful hits it received. Luckily for the bulky boy, there was not a single soul in the hallways. Nobody would witness the horror that everybody refused to believe was real.
"Agh," Kurt croaked out, as more blood spilled through his red lips.
"Hey fag," he laughed, waiting to torment his prey even further, fire burning in his eyes at the joy of power.
There was silence. A dreadful silence that made Karofsky shake a bit in fear.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, trash bag!" he bellowed, refusing to be disrespected by the overly confident singer.
As no response escaped his victim's lips, Karofsky's face paled. Quickly, he rushed away to the locker rooms to wash off the stomach-tightening fear that was quickly building up at the pit of his stomach.
Kurt couldn't see, his eyes blurred by the tears and blood running down his facade. The halls were silent, and dimly lit, as the day was coming to a close. He couldn't believe that nobody would ever see him in this state. Nobody would ever see him cry and break from his diva shell, which he used as a barrier. Kurt wanted people to see his bright, uncaring side…not his breakdowns. However, at that moment, all he really wanted was for someone to be is knight in shining armor. He wanted to be rescued and taken away from this cruelty, wanted to be taken care off the same way he had always took care of others
His hands were shaking, and his body convulsing in shocks of anger. No. Not this time. Enough was enough.
His feet lifted Kurt off the ground, and stomped angrily to he unfamiliar doors of the locker room. The place smelt of sweat, blood, and tears.
"Ew," whispered Kurt, and shuddered in repulse, pinching his nose.
"That you, fairy?" the voice sent chills down Kurt's back. Could he really do this? Fear was written in black and white all over the young boy's face.
"I thought it was. I saw your lanky legs under the lockers," Karofsky smirked, appearing from behind one of the showers. The hefty boy was edging closer, cornering the small teen.
"Why," Kurt managed to whisper, before unconsciously slapping a hand to his mouth.
Karofsky seemed frozen in place. Who the hell- The bigger boy's train of thoughts was cut abruptly as Kurt shrilled at him.
"Why do you keep doing this to me! I'm not a bag of filth, Dave. I'm a human being too! My personal life shouldn't bother you this much", Kurt shoved one finger into his bruised eye, wincing a bit, "and you're lucky Mr. Shuester gives more shit about his hair than his students!" Kurt was practically in a hysteric, but kept a stern look on his face.
Dave was standing uncomfortably close to Kurt, their chests almost touching. Nobody said a word, as Kurt's words sunk in to the moist room.
"Well? You gonna pound me or what," Kurt spat, voice quivering from anxiety.
Another tense second passed, and hot breath rushed into Kurt's mouth as Karofsky's chops crushed his delicate lips. The kiss was fierce, begging for dominance. The heated tongue found Kurt's, which hid at the back of his throat, prying it out of the hiding corner and into the open. Kurt's broken body stiffened for a few seconds before the realization kicked in.
"Mhhmm" he struggled to get out of the strong grasp.
The bully seemed stunned himself, as he let go of the trembling boy, and touched his lips subconsciously.
"Dave-", Kurt whispered, his voice choking on the shock surrounding the two boys.
Horror. Distress. Anguish. Embracement. These words were plastered on the adolescent soloist's face. It had happened and that was the end of it. Or at least that's what Kurt wanted to think. However, his heart throbbed at the aching realization. This was his first kiss. It was supposed to be special, magical, one in a lifetime, but some asshole had stolen that from him.
Dave grabbed Kurt's shoulders once more and lifted him off the ground.
"I don't know what that was," he gritted, "but if you tell anyone about this, you are dead. I swear I will kill your faggoty ass and you won't be able to utter another word," he whispered threateningly, only rage audible in his voice, into Kurt's ear.
Kurt felt his hands trembling and hot tears started spilling down his cheeks.
"And just so that you don't go running to that black girl of yours," Karofsky growled.
He grabbed Kurt by his arm, Kurt being too weak at this point to do anything to protest. Kurt was dragged into the shower, and felt a sharp pain erupt in his stomach. Another jolt of discomfort shot through him as the same spot was kicked. His vision was blurry once more, but he saw a smudged dark boot flying towards his face. Not being able to raise his hands in time, he let out a shrill cry at the feeling of his skin splitting apart from the force of the kick. Another stream of blood, a pounding in his head, and an unbearable ache in his gut all settled, unwelcomed, in Kurt's body.
"Hmm, I don't think that's going to be enough to shut your gay-ass up," Karofsky contemplated.
With that Kurt received another kick in his face. Surprisingly, all he could think of was his perfectly-shaped nose getting broken. He felt a slight crack within his nose-bridge, and reluctantly let out a short yelp, tears forming in his eyes at the immense pain. Karofsky started punching Kurt's body in any place his fists could reach, which was pretty much everywhere.
"P-please," Kurt gasped, realizing he had trouble taking in a full breath. He felt like a million ton of bricks were dropped on his chest.
"Not gonna work, Humpbell," Karofsky gnashed his teeth together, laughing at his own retarded joke.
Kurt assumed by now, with the minimal strength he had left, that pleading and begging wouldn't do any good with the idiot. The idiot that stole my kiss… He teared up at the horrible flashback.
Karofsky smashed him up against something hard, and it sent sparks flying in front of Kurt's eyes, which were half closed. His spine hurt, and he couldn't dare to move his shoulders or arms because any movement would cause an incredible ache. With a particularly hard thrash, Kurt's head buckled backward, hitting the cold, wet, tile wall. Kurt's eyes widened, as he tried to forget about the pain in his head. It was throbbing, and the weak body couldn't help but worry about concussions and such. Those thoughts were knocked out of his brain as his ribs felt a kick being registered to them, sending a second wave of soreness through Kurt's body. His lungs cringed at the lack of air, as Kurt's nose was being busy as a faucet for blood.
His head was pounding, hair in his face, covered in sweat and blood. All he could see is black spots, shooting out and into his field of vision. The bashed diva tried to move, but couldn't. His body was convulsing in pain. The petite boy crawled into a cocoon, hands protectively hugging his injuries. He tried to stand up, but his feet wouldn't move. Everything was numb, or burning, or hurt too much.
"That should leave you here for a while," Karofsky hissed, "Remember our deal, or else there's more coming your way. If your little fairy ass couldn't take this, wait till you tell anyone."
Kurt could only pronounce an indistinguishable sound, which could be summed up as defeat. Seeing the helpless boy try to wiggle scrunching his face in pain gave the large boy a sense of control he never felt before. Just to prove his authority, Karofsky turned on the water in the shower. He turned the faucet to steaming hot, and hearing a yelp of pain, left the room quickly.
Kurt lay on the hot tiles, head splitting apart, and ears ringing. He wished that he could just fall unconscious already and not fall victim to the excruciating pain. Tears slowly fell one by one into the mess of blood and steaming water. The water cut into his face, and exposed flesh and it felt like he was burning in hell. I guess God really does hate me. Kurt thought miserably, unable to stop a fresh set of tears from pooling onto the floor. I can't feel the water… Kurt realized silently, after a while of being submerged to the intense water temperature. Closing his eyes, he worshipped the feeling of one less painful sting running through his carcass. His eyes slowly closed after one last failed attempt at moving. It hurt too much. However, defeat hurt a thousand times more than the boiling water pounding into his tired body.
Through the patter of the shower, Kurt heard faint footsteps coming closer to the locker room. The door was slammed shut, and the trudging of heavy boots became more apparent.
"Hey somebody still in here?" Puck. Damn it! Thought Kurt desperately, too weak to really tense. Enough is enough! Now that closet case has to bring Puckerman into this shit too! Inside, Kurt was panicking. He wasn't in the state to defend himself or throw off his offenders with sassy comebacks.
Kurt couldn't help but let out a low groan, as the stinging heat of the water became noticeable again.
"Finn?" called out Puck, walking to the bathrooms.
Puck saw the steam coming from one of the showers, and repeated his question, "Anyone there? Coach says that we're closing up soon," yelled Puck, assuming he couldn't be heard over the roaring water.
"Puckerman…please help," gasped Kurt, unable to hold in his voice because of the unbearable throb any longer.
"Hummel? The hell are you doing here? Princess into football now?" Puck chuckled.
"AHHHH!" Kurt let out, as the water got even hotter.
"Hummel!" yelled Puck in a slight tone of worry.
Without hesitation, the Mohawk-haired boy ripped open the shower curtain, and stared in horror at the sigh before him. He felt his throat clenching, and feet bobbling underneath him. He stretched a hand out to help Kurt, but pulled back.
"FUCK!" he yelped and stared in anger at his red hand.
"Don't…leave," Kurt managed to choke out, a new stream of blood pouring from his mouth.
"Shit," Puck mumbled, and rubbed his face in panic.
There was no way out of it but to run. However, Puck saw the desperate look in the porcelain-skinned boy's eyes. There were pleading with him. Puck guessed Kurt would do anything, even wear a pair of baggy jeans, which were "despicable" as Kurt put it, if only Puck got him out.
"No one deserves this," Puck silently fumed.
Taking a deep breath, he reached out, the burning water seeming to split his skin right away.
"SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!" he yelled, as his hands frantically searched for the twistable things to turn the water off.
The water ceased to run, leaving steam to rise up into the vents.
"Hummel, can you hear me?" Puck asked, leaning close to the boy, only to gasp again at the sight.
Kurt's face was puffy, purple, red, bruised, battered, and bloodied. Three bruises were forming on both cheekbones. His lips were torn, blood still leaking out, and running down his chin. His eyes were closed, with purple patches engulfing them. Scars and cracks covered the once perfect skin, and tears strained his cheeks. The places where Kurt's tee shirt was raised a bit revealed a battered body, covered with bloody scratches and black bashes.
"Come on, Kurt, I got you," Puck whispered as he tried to pick up the smaller boy.
"AHHH!" Kurt shrieked, as pain split his body apart. "Please don't touch me," he gasped.
"Who the hell did this to you?" asked Puck in dread.
"You should know. Hasn't he bragged yet about-", Kurt's rant was interrupted by a fit of coughing.
Puck debated on where to pick up the boy without hurting him.
"Princess, where doesn't it hurt," Puck asked, frowning a bit.
Kurt, mistakening his intentions, spat bitterly, "You could just leave, you know. Wouldn't want to touch a homo, right?"
Puck rolled his eyes, and sighed, "Not the time to proclaim your rights, Hummel."
The jock lifted the boy, ignoring the shrieks and cries of pain. He laid the broken singer onto one of the benches.
"Whoa, you're all scarlet-red, dude! How long've you been in there?" asked Puck, his voice beginning to gain a little softness.
"I don't know," sobbed Kurt.
He no longer cared about seeming tough. Right now, that was the least of his worries. Kurt's sobs came loudly, and abruptly. The boy was so beaten into the ground it sent an unknown ache to Puck's heart.
"Shh…" he tried, "Princess, we'll get you fixed up. Just cool down a bit."
Puck ran to the sinks and opened up the cold water, wanting to cool the place down a bit. It was getting hard to breathe with all the steam. He wet his hands and walked over to Kurt. Not sure of what to do, Puck placed his hands on Kurt's face, and just let them stay there. It was extremely awkward, but as long as the guy didn't die, it was fine.
"Shit, no more towels. Well, can't let your Gucci or whatever t-shirt get wetter than it already is," mumbled Puck, and Kurt let out another sob, remembering his designer shirt, definitely not a Gucci, which was useless by now.
"Oh well," sighed Puck, and swiftly pulled off his own, plain, white t-shirt.
The t-shirt was wetted in the sink, and brought back to the sobbing Kurt.
"Please, calm down. Crying will just send you into panic attack mode," Puck cooed, slightly anxious, not wanting to witness one of Kurt's major panic modes. He placed the folded shirt onto Kurt's face, and then slowly moved it down his red neck.
"Agh" clenched Kurt at the pain.
"It's okay," Puck assured the trembling boy.
He lifted Kurt's arms, and removed his shirt, to give his body more access to the now cold air.
"I'm gonna screw that bastard into the ground when I find him," Puck fumed when he saw how bad the rest of Kurt's body had been hurt. Carefully, tentatively, Puck ran the wet shirt down Kurt's chest, moving down to his stomach, and blowing on it, soothing the burning skin.
"Better, princess?" he asked, looking up at Kurt, who starred wide-eyed at him.
"Mhm," Kurt uttered, before closing his eyes again, taking in the feel of coldness against the burns.
After a while, Puck lulled, "Can you flip to your back? I bet it's pretty red too."
Kurt sat up, with a huge effort, and flopped back down onto his stomach.
"Oh, I forgot," using his gorilla strength, Puckerman ripped a piece of cloth from his shirt, and handing it to Kurt, "put this on your wounds."
After about thirty minutes of the same treatment to his back, Kurt whispered a word of gratitude towards the football player.
"No problem, Princess," he said.
Kurt sat up, and gazed down at his soaked pants. He was done crying, but he still felt so heavy inside. It would be much easier to let it all out, but he couldn't. Not in front of Puck. However, before he knew it, Kurt was sobbing remorsefully into Puck's bare shoulder. All the hurt was expressed as hot tears ran down Puck's back. Slowly, Puck brought his hand to rest on Kurt's back, clutching the small boy closer to him. It tore him apart inside to see what the bullying truly did to the overly confident diva. He had been a major part of the bullying, and that was what tore Puck apart the most.
"Kurt," he whispered, holding back a tear that was ready to flow down his face.
"Yea?" Kurt replied weakly.
A sudden urgency took over Puck. A feeling of need and being unable to convey his emotions any other way washed over Puck. Before he could catch himself, Puck faced Kurt and slowly, cautiously, brought his lips to Kurt's. They tasted metallic, a mix of fresh and dry blood coating the inner cavern of Kurt's mouth. This discovery made Puck tear up even more, tears of sorrow finally escaping their prison to roll down his cheeks.
For a moment, Kurt's tongue responded, brushing over his former bully's. However, reality kicked in, and Kurt broke away from the kiss. He let out a cry of pain and anguish and crawled into his protective cocoon once again, wishing Puckerman would just leave.
Puck stuttered in shock, "S-sorry m-man-n. I don't know how this gay stuff works, so…" he trailed off, looking awkwardly into space, wishing Kurt would dismiss him.
"So you're gonna deny it too? Am I that unattractive?" Kurt cried hysterically into himself at the pain of rejection.
He wasn't in love with Noah, but it still hurt. Actually, it felt like a knife was thrust into his chest, by the uncaring world. Why was he even on this earth?
"Too?" asked Puck curiously, his own worries about his newfound gayness flying out the window.
"You wanna know who did this?" Kurt barked. "Karofsky! Puck," he froze to look up at the tall, tan, handsome man, with watery, hurt, eyes, "it was my first kiss."
At that, Kurt broke down again. Puck sat down next to the shaking figure, and brought an arm up to snuggle the boy closer to him.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled into Kurt's hair, which he noticed smelled like peaches.
"W-why- I don't deserve to be used! I don't deserve to be the tool for self-discovery!" Kurt was raging into Puck's neck.
"You don't, princess. I wasn't discovering. I wanted to make you feel better. But you're right. When I kissed you just now," Kurt looked up to meet the warm, brown eyes, "I felt something other than pity for you. It was- warmth or something." A blush spread across Puck's cheeks, highlighting his prominent cheekbones.
"T-thanks, N-Noah," Kurt sighed, feeling a bit better at the soft words.
"I'm going to help you. Karofsky's not gonna know what hit 'im," Puck whispered into Kurt's hair with a smirk on his lips.
"Thank you," Kurt said, his eyes trailing to look at the mess on the floor.
"Was it really bad, Kurt," asked Noah with prodding eyes.
"Yea, it was," Kurt sighed and shuddered at the memories of his encounter with the closeted bully.
"What did you say about it being your first kiss or something," Puck asked cautiously, looking at the mess that he would have to clean, unfortunately.
"I-I went to confront him and he," Kurt let out a small chuckle, "kissed me.
"Whoa, that's harsh, du- Kurt. I actually can't imagine if that happened to me. I mean I would probably- Um…I'm incredibly sorry," mumbled Puck, hoping his rambles would show how sad he was. Gay or not, a first kiss was a first kiss.
"Yea, he also threatened me. That dumbass," Kurt laughed, snuggling closer next to Noah.
"Don't worry. Starting today, you have one more body guard. I'l have your back, Princess," Puck paused before continuing, "I kinda…like this," Noah said, distantly.
"You mean…" Kurt tried to understand.
"Cuddling and stuff….with you," Puck murmured, with a blush spreading against his cheeks.
"Oh.." Kurt was at a loss of words. The day had been one huge rollercoaster, and Kurt wasn't sure if his ride had come to a stop just yet. "Please, if you aren't serious," Kurt sniffled, tears building up again in his red eyes.
"Uh…I really wanted to put off this moment," Puck whispered, rubbing his Mohawk and looking at his feet.
"Put what off, exactly," Kurt inquired, his nature-given curiosity getting the best of him.
"You…" Puck blushed and brought his eyes up, unwillingly, to look at the lost boy.
"Wh-" Kurt gasped a bit, only to be interrupted by Puck's lips crashing into his, less frantically this time.
With the kiss, Puck hoped to show Kurt how much he cared. He didn't know when the "jock" him had turned into a bisexual him. Kurt morphed him for the most part, and it all started after their first duet. It had been a love song which Mr. Shue made everybody sing with a partner of the same sex, "to get the sexuality elephant out of the room" as he put it. The way their voices blended together, and the looks which Puck, being the simple minded idiot he was, could only identify as flirts, caught Puck exposed. His heart fluttered a bit in his chest, and those small tingling feelings that he felt occasionally, while catching a glimpse of Kurt's "fine ass".
The kiss itself was gentle, not explosive and desperate like before. It was longing, and full of emotions, which Puck still couldn't express through words. His tongue led a fiery dance with Kurt's, which he accepted it pretty fast and willingly.
"What does this mean?" asked Kurt suddenly, skeptically, breaking their lip lock, abruptly.
"Honestly, Kurt," Puck whispered, looking affectionately into the beautiful boy's confused eyes, emphasizing his name, symbolizing the switch of their relationship, "I don't know."
"Oh," Kurt said, disappointment clearly visible his voice.
"No…not like that. I'm sure about you. I have been…for a while. Right now, though, we need to get you cleaned up and checked out by a doctor. Can you stand up?" Noah cooed his new lover? Boyfriend? Friend? He wasn't really sure.
Kurt attempted to stand up, his arms shaking as he leaned on them for support. He plopped back down, with a grunt of defeat.
"C'mon Princess," Puck smirked, "I'll help you up."
Kurt nervously took Puck's hand, and raised himself from the wooden bench.
"Thank you, Noah," he said, wincing a bit from the sting still surrounding his body.
"It's alright," Noah assured the injured boy.
"Umm, Noah?" Kurt asked, trembling a bit at identifying the boy as anything but "Puck".
"Yea?" Puck asked, seemingly contempt.
"I-I don't want to get hurt again," Kurt's voice was raspy from all the crying he had done earlier.
"Trust me, I'm totally sure of my feelings, du-Princess," Puck chuckled, and took hold of Kurt's smaller, delicate hand.
Kurt still looked unsure, scared of being a joke again, if he let his feelings lose. In truth, Puck was extremely handsome, and hot. He wouldn't mind giving him a shot, especially with the new personality Puck suddenly developed.
"Ugh," Puck rolled his eyes, "fine, if you want to be courted, that's all right with me. But- are you even attracted to me?" asked Noah, being scared of rejection which would send him straight back to the closet.
"You're not bad looking," Kurt winked.
"Hmm….," Puck thought, "good enough," he flashed a smile which made the smaller boy blush.
"S-so," Kurt mumbled, butterflies fluttering at the pit of his stomach.
"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, would you like to go on a date, with me," Puck made his invitation over exaggerated and shot Kurt a gleaming smile, bursting with pride and confidence.
"Yes," Kurt said playfully, and looked down at their intertwined fingers, the warmth of their hands transferring to one another, forming an invisible bond.
"First, however," the beaming jock whispered hoarsely into his date's ear, "I have to kick that closet-case's ass."
Puck's sexy voice sent chills down Kurt's back.
Hesitantly, Kurt tilted his head upward, to reach Noah's warm mouth. He gave him a long, slow kiss, thanking Noah for everything that he had done for him. Maybe first kisses were a first only when it meant something for both lovers.