Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the lyrics to Rolling in the Deep.

A/N: Italics = Kurt singing

The song Kurt sings (in case you live under a rock or something) is "Someone Like You" by Adele.

Chapter Three

We could've had it all…

Kurt knew he should have felt bad for the way Puck's day was going but he didn't. He was having too much fun. Doing all those things to Puck and seeing the way his face reddened and scrunched up (kind of like when he came during sex, Kurt thought to himself) made Kurt giddy. And knowing Puck had no idea he was doing it felt like Kurt could do anything to him, even murder him, and no one would be the wiser.

He wasn't going to kill him, of course. Kill his day, maybe. And what a day it was turning out to be. After Puck had put his pants in the dryer Kurt snuck into the locker room and pulled them out, dumping them in a trashcan in the girl's bathroom so Puck would be stuck in the tights all day. The itching powder and tights were all Santana's idea, but Kurt was responsible for what happened afterwards.

Kurt knew all of Puck's weaknesses. It was hard not to, what with them going out for over six months and all. It was Kurt who knew Puck was secretly afraid of grasshoppers, so he made sure to stuff his backpack with them. Well, Kurt didn't actually put the bugs in; he got Sam to do it, convincing the slow blond that he was planning on setting them free after school. The mohawked teen was sent screaming down the halls when he opened his bag and instead of pulling out a book he was met with dozens of bugs jumping all over his body. The fact that he was still in tights and the screams emitted from his mouth were high pitched and feminine made the prank even funnier. Even though that had happened earlier in the day and the bugs had been rid of, Puck still had a nervous tick about that one, his body jerking as if he could still feel their little legs crawling over his skin, his face a mask of worry that one had clung to his clothing and would burrow into his body. Kurt smiled to himself as he saw Puck was unable to walk down the halls without feeling himself all over for bugs.

It was Kurt who knew that the real reason for Puck not liking bacon wasn't only because his family was kosher, but because when he was seven and sleeping over at Finn's house he ate a plate full of bacon for breakfast and ended up throwing it up all over the kitchen floor. To this day even the sight of bacon makes Puck gag. Kurt hesitated a little at first, not exactly eager to aid Puck's descent to Hell by making him break an important facet of his religion, but when he saw Quinn flounce in and give a quick kiss to Puck's cheek before sitting next to him Kurt saw red and threw all thoughts of backing out away. He made sure to switch Puck's lunch tray when he was deep in conversation with Quinn so that when Puck bit into his sandwich and felt the unmistakable crunch of bacon his throat nearly turned itself inside out. He spit it out casually into a napkin and hurriedly reached for his milk, gulping it down in mouthfuls. Kurt and Santana watched as Puck realized his milk had been tainted as well; looking into his milk box he spied little pieces of bacon floating in the white liquid. Puck spit out his drink, spraying the milk all over Quinn and drawing more attention to himself as he ran out of the cafeteria, his hands clasped around his mouths as the first wave of vomit spilled out. The students erupted into laughter, his tight clad legs making it all the funnier as he ran awkwardly to the nearest bathroom.

What was so great about those pranks was not only Puck's reaction, but the fact that Jacob had been there with his camera, recording each event in order to make Puck's humiliation more public. Kurt chuckled to himself, reveling in his ex-boyfriend's pain.

Rolling in the deep…

"Do you think Puck's going to like what we did to his truck?" Brittany asked excitedly. She, Santana, and Kurt were walking down the halls, making sure to blend in with the other student's who had just been released from class so no one knew they'd skipped. Kurt had timed it perfectly to where they could do what they needed to do to Puck's truck and then make it back inside as if they'd just gotten out of class.

"I think he's going to love it," Santana said, linking pinkies with Brittany. The clueless blonde smiled to herself, thinking she was actually doing Puck a favor.

Out of nowhere Kurt was pulled away from Santana and Brittany, hands dragging him away to the corner of the hall by the stairwell. Realizing it was Mercedes and Finn, Kurt relaxed, although Santana reminded him he had five minutes at the most if he wanted to see the meltdown in the parking lot.

"Dude, stop," Finn said.

Feigning ignorance Kurt replied, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Enough, Kurt," Mercedes said. "Finn told me all about your little payback plan and it's gotten way out of hand."

"Puck's going insane. He thinks he's being punished by God or something," Finn said.

"That's ridiculous," Kurt said, not at all interested with how Puck was feeling. "He'll get over it."

"Baby, you've got to stop this," Mercedes said, rubbing Kurt's arm gently. "Can't you see this is hurting you more than its hurting Puck?"

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asked. "These are just a couple harmless pranks. He'll be fine."

"And you?" Mercedes asked.

"I'm better than ever," Kurt said haughtily, crossing his arms in defiance. Finn and Mercedes eyed him skeptically.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment in the parking lot," Kurt said, brushing past his two friends and brusquely walking back down the hall with Santana and Brittany in tow.

He'd barely made it halfway down the hall before he was pulled into an empty classroom, Santana and Britney not even noticing. Surprised at yet another clandestine meeting he straightened his shirt before looking up, realizing it was none other than Quinn Fabray that had pulled him in for a little chat.

"What do you want?" Kurt asked, his voice dripping with disdain. He didn't feel the need to hide his contempt for the girl who had not only nearly ruined his stepbrother's life the previous year by making him support a child that wasn't his, but now felt it necessary to ruin his as well.

"I know what you're doing and I want you to stop it right now," Quinn demanded of him.

Dropping all pretense that he was innocent Kurt replied, "And why should I do anything you ask of me? You should just stay out of way and be thankful I haven't done anything to you."

"Look Kurt, I know you're more than a little mad at me, and you have every right to be - " she began.

"This is so not about you," Kurt said, cutting her off in his anger. "You took Noah from me, that's it. I'm not mad. If anything I should be thanking you."

"Thanking me?" Quinn asked.

"Yes," Kurt confirmed. "Thanking you for showing me how easily Noah can be tempted. I mean, if he can fall for you, what with your stretch marks and fondness for poly-cotton blends, then he obviously had a thing for gutter trash that I just could not satisfy," Kurt said, his arms crossed in anger.

Taken aback at being insulted so, Quinn said, "You know, I had every intention of coming in here and speaking to you like an adult, and showing you just how much you're hurting yourself as much as you're hurting Puck, but if you insist on behaving like a child I'll speak to you like one." At this she stepped closer to Kurt, her face inches from him, and said in a menacing voice, "Puck's mine, not yours. So stop with this stupid revenge plan you have going on, got it?"

Kurt, refusing to budge an inch, lifted his nose haughtily to her threat. "He's yours. I'm not fighting that, that's not up for deliberation. But how I deal with it, how I get over the consequences of your tendency to spread your legs in greeting the same way others hug or shake hands is my business. Now stay out of my way before I drop a house on you, witch."

"Back off," Quinn spoke again, eyeing him threateningly.

"Fuck you," Kurt said slowly, meeting her eyes, the curse words he usually found so hard to mutter rolling off his tongue with the greatest of ease.

In a swirl of bottled blonde highlights and teeth too white to be natural Quinn was off, storming out of the room in anger, leaving Kurt fuming in his own rage. If ever he had doubts about this whole revenge thing, Quinn had just made sure he never had them again.

Santana opened the door to the classroom a minute after Quinn left. Peering inside she saw a visible shaking Kurt still clutching himself in his rage after his and Quinn's conversation.

"Yo, Hummel, we better get a move on if we want to get to the parking lot before Puck," Santana called out to him, breaking him from his reverie. Walking to the door she could see his furrowed brow and flaring nostrils. "You alright?" she asked.

"Never better," Kurt lied. "Let's get going." Linking arms with Santana and Brittany they strode off, ignoring the voice echoing in the back of his head that Quinn and Mercedes had said the same thing.

The three arrived at the parking lot just as a crowd of students was forming, the center being Puck's truck. Students were laughing and taking pictures of the vehicle just as Puck walked outside and cut through the fray.

He stood in shock as he took in the sight of his former truck. The tires had been removed and it had been placed atop cinder blocks. The back bed was a sea of blue, having been humorously filled with his own pants, each one of them clean and ready to wear, Puck saw excitedly, if only the crotches hadn't been cut out of them. He peered inside the truck, the windows seemingly whited out. He went around to the driver's side door and cautiously wrenched it open. Once the door was opened it swung forward, a sea of whipped cream falling out and on top of Puck. The crowd laughed, more pictures being taken and Jacob talking animatedly into the camera. Puck was covered in the fluffy white substance so that he now resembled a mohawked snowman. The whipped cream had been packed into the truck with so much pressure that it had burst out when he opened the door. Kurt and Santana shared a knowing smile before rushing back into the school, eager to plan the rest of Puck's worst day.

Puck got to his feet, surveying the damage, wondering who hated him enough to do this, briefly debating whether or not it was even a person and not God punishing him for being a bad Jew. First that goddamned shit in his pants that made his dick itch like hell, then the freaking tights which he was still wearing (and dude, that shit rode up all into his butt crack), then the grasshoppers and the bacon (which he hoped God forgave him for, since he didn't know he was eating it), and now this shit with his truck. He always said he was too badass to cry, but it was times like this that made him wonder why he didn't just break down sobbing like a little bitch. He tried to wipe himself clean of the cream, and when he saw it was impossible he fell to his knees in frustration, the weight of the day's events seemingly bearing down on him.

"You love it!" Brittany clapped, yelling out from the silent crowd enthusiastically.

"What?" Puck said incredulously. "Britt, did you do this?"

"Yes!" she said excitedly. "It took us all fifth period, but we got it done! Doesn't your truck look so pretty now?"

"Wait…us? Who helped you?" Puck asked, wiping his eyes and getting to his whipped cream covered feet.

"Kurt and Santana told me not to say," Brittany said, unaware of the fire that erupted into Puck's eyes at the mention of Kurt's name.

You had my heart inside of your hands…

Puck was pissed. He should have known Kurt was behind all this shit. Who else knew his secret fear of grasshoppers? Who else knew the bacon story besides Finn, and let's face it Finn was no evil genius, he couldn't have planned what happened at lunch. And who else had access to the tools that could tow his truck into the middle of the parking lot and get all the tires off in less than an hour?

He was pissed, fucking royally pissed off at Kurt, and he was going to show him how angry he was. He stalked out of the parking lot, pushing people out of his way as he roamed the halls looking for Kurt. Still covered in whipped cream, the substance quickly turning to liquid and sticking to his skin uncomfortably, he opted to shower before confronting his ex-boyfriend.

Rushing to the locker room he pulled his shower caddy from his locker and jumped into the empty showers. Rinsing away the whipped cream he tried to let the water cool his raging temper, hoping it would calm him down so he didn't do something to Kurt (and Santana, he didn't forget about that bitch Santana) he would regret.

Squeezing a dollop of shampoo into his hand he worked it into his mohawk, making sure to coat it completely. He took great pride in his haircut, making sure to trim it daily so no stray hairs grew and he made sure to wash it often so that it stayed soft and fresh. As he massaged the shampoo into his scalp he realized something was wrong. His hair was moving too much. Like way too much. Like, his hair was not supposed to be slipping on the side of his head or by his ears. Reaching around on his scalp he found his hair dripping off his head. Literally dripping off…he looked down and there were huge clumps of hair on the shower floor. He pulled his hands down, a chunk of his hair in his grasp as he swore out loud in panic. Rushing to the mirrors by the sink, he saw his reflection and it made him nearly scream: his hair was falling out.

He punched the glass in rage, luckily not getting any shards of the mirror on his fists. Fuck! He should've known they'd messed with his shampoo. They'd already been inside his locker and took out his sweat pants, of course they'd put something in his shampoo. He swore out loud again as he rushed back to the shower and rinsed the shit off his head, making sure to keep it out of his face and off his body or else he'd be completely hairless, and as badass as he was there was no way he could pull off no eyebrows. He rinsed himself off completely and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, shaking in anger as he strode out of the locker room soaking wet and completely bald.

In the empty corridors he was harassed once again by Jacob Ben Israel, who asked him if because of his shaved head he was having a Britney Spears style meltdown before Puck casually pushed him to the floor and threw his microphone down the opposite end of the hall. "Rabbi Horowitz will be hearing about this!" Jacob swore as he got to his feet with the aid of his cameraman.

Puck continued to walk down the empty halls, finally spotting Kurt deep in conversation with Santana at the end of a hallway, both of them cutting class and no doubt plotting the next step of their diabolical plot. He walked up to him, his towel and bald head doing nothing to soften his menacing glare. Kurt looked up in surprise and a brief chuckle escaped his lips at Puck's current hairstyle (or lack of one) and ensemble (again, or lack of one), Santana joining in for a quick laugh. Puck sneered before lifting the countertenor over his wet shoulder, carrying him down the hallway. Kurt pounded his fists on Puck's back, making disparaging remarks about his intelligence and fashion sense, demanding to be put down. As he disappeared down the hall Santana called out for him to be strong and to 'fight the power', whatever that meant. Puck ignored Kurt's pounding fists, carrying him to the nearest janitor's closet, putting him on his feet and locking the door as he turned to Kurt in anger.

He strode up to Kurt, who looked more than a little terrified though he did a good job of hiding it, and placed a hand on each side of Kurt's head against the wall and said in a menacing growl, "What. The. Fuck."

"Excuse me?" Kurt asked, batting his eyelashes at Puck in his best act of innocence and ignorance.

"Don't fuck with me Kurt," Puck warned, his fists clenching. Kurt was scared. He didn't know if Puck would physically hurt him. He never had before, not even back before they were dating when Puck was bullying him, but Kurt had never pushed him like he had today. Kurt was still a guy after all, and he didn't know if Puck had any qualms about hitting him just because they used to date. So even in his fear he surprised himself by stirring up a false sense of confidence, as if he knew Puck would never hurt him even though he had no idea if he might end up like Tina Turner in What's Love Got to Do With It?.

"We're not together anymore so I have no reason to be fucking with you," Kurt shot back. Their eyes never waivered from each other's, each daring the other to blink or look away, to give up in their stupid game so the other could be declared the winner.

Puck was the first to break. He pulled away from Kurt before running his hands through his bald head. Normally he would feel the comforting bristle of his mohawk and it would calm him somewhat, but feeling its absence only made him more upset.

"Look, I don't care about the locker fire, or the shit you put in my pants, or the tights or the grasshoppers or the gay hooker ad, and the bacon you'll have to take up with the guy upstairs when he wants to know why you corrupted one of his chosen people with pork," Puck ranted, "and I don't even give a fuck about the truck, which you are so cleaning up by the way. But the 'hawk, dude. Why did you have to fuck with my 'hawk?"

"You know I always hated that thing," Kurt shrugged indifferently. Puck leaned against the wall opposite Kurt, each sizing each other up. Puck seemed to have lost his anger, too tired from the day's events to hold onto it for so long. Meanwhile Kurt had been holding onto his anger for days and was not about to let it slip away because of the pitiful look on Puck's face.

"Why'd you do it Kurt?" Puck asked, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He wasn't going to throttle Kurt, or punch him, or even give him a good spanking. He just wanted it to be over.

"I could ask you the same thing," Kurt said. As cryptic as his response was Puck knew just what he was talking about.

"Is this about the Quinn thing?" Puck asked exasperated.

"No, it's because you forgot the Macy's One Day sale last week," Kurt said with just the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"I thought we were good," Puck said with a shrug. He readjusted the towel around his waist as he nearly crumbled under Kurt's death glare.

"What in the immortal name of Alexander McQueen made you think that?" Kurt asked, barely fighting back the urge to claw Puck's eyes out.

"I don't know," Puck said, his bare feet kicking at the tiled floor. "I told you what was going on, I let you know things were over between us. I thought I did everything you're supposed to do when you break up."

"That was not a break up!" Kurt screamed. "You snuck into my room like a criminal, told me you're leaving me for someone you've been seeing behind my back, and left because you had a date with her that same night! That was not a break up, that was a hit and run."

"Dude, I told you what was going on. I didn't keep you out of the loop and, like, sleep with her when I was still with you. I thought I was doing the honorable thing letting you go," Puck said. He sauntered up to Kurt and leaned next to him on the wall, his wet skin glistening under the fluorescent light.

"We went out for months and yet you still call me 'dude'," Kurt said with an eye roll. Turning to Puck he said, "Look, Noa – Puck, you may have let me know, but you let me know when you already made up your mind. You didn't tell me you were seeing someone else or you were losing interest in me. You just said goodbye. You didn't even give me a chance to fight for us." Kurt's eyes teared up, a single one falling before Puck scooped him into his naked arms. "You didn't fight for us," Kurt whispered into Puck's chest.

"I thought we were already over," Puck admitted, still clutching Kurt. "I didn't…I thought it was only a matter of time before we ended it, so I guess I jumped the gun and went looking for someone before it was cool."

"What made you think we were over?" Kurt said, taken aback at Puck's confession. He thought they had a solid relationship; sure they fought, but what couple didn't, and they always made up. He broke away from Puck, wiping his eyes and mentally wincing at what Puck's wet skin had done to his Marc Jacobs shirt.

"Dude, we fought all the time," Puck said. Kurt pinched him at the utterance of that despised word 'dude', making Puck flinch. "Sorry, Kurt," Puck said.

"Couples fight," Kurt said. "It would've been weird if we didn't fight."

"Yeah, but we fought all the time," Puck reminded him. Looking back he found Puck was right. They fought…a lot. "We'd fight over stupid shit, like where to eat or whose house we were going to. I mean, yeah, we fought over important stuff but mostly it seemed we fought just to fight."

Kurt's mind flashed back to their relationship. They didn't fight that much…did they? Sure, Kurt would pick at Puck's clothing and less than stellar grades, but he only did that in order to show him how great he could be. And yes, maybe sometimes Kurt would get jealous whenever Puck interacted with anybody else, and then act coldly to him without warning, but Puck should've known how insecure Kurt was. Not to say that Puck didn't have his own jealousy issues; he would throw a gigantic tantrum whenever Kurt spoke to another guy, and sometimes he would make fun of Kurt's clothing in order to make the countertenor realize how hurtful it was when he did it to him, which only caused another fight to break out. They didn't just fight over the big things; they fought over stupid things, like what movie to watch, which side of the bed they preferred to sleep on, what they were doing for the weekend. In short, they fought…a lot. That was bad enough, but the worst part was their unforgiving nature, each content to let the other stew in their own anger rather than apologize or say they were wrong. This ultimately proved to be their undoing.

"You're right," Kurt admitted. "I guess we were both just stubborn idiots. But was it really just the fighting?"

"Well, that and you were getting sick of me," Puck said with a chuckle. Kurt looked at him bemusedly.

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asked.

"Du – Kurt," he said, "near the end you couldn't stand me."

"That is not true!" Kurt objected.

"Yeah, it is," Puck said in amused remembrance. "Every time you saw me you would ignore me or insult my intelligence and make fun of my badassness. I think that last one hurt the most," he said in mock hurt. Kurt slapped his arm, making him chuckle. "Face it, if I hadn't broken up with you, you would have found a way to end it with me."

"I don't think I would have," Kurt said, leaning back into the wall and crossing his arms as the 20/20 vision of hindsight shed light onto their past relationship. "I probably would have let it die, refusing to believe we were over. Maybe then you wouldn't have had to go through what you went through today," he said in shame.

"It wasn't that bad," Puck said. "I gotta admit those were some pretty good revenge pranks. Just tell me that's it," he pleaded.

"Well," Kurt said, avoiding Puck's stare. He knelt down to where his bag dropped when Puck let him down from his shoulder, pulling out a stack of color copied photos. Puck looked at the pictures and let out a chuckle, surprising Kurt. The photos were of a naked Puck, laid out on Kurt's bed, his legs spread apart and a bright pink vibrator working its way out of his ass as his face contorted in a mixture of concentration and pleasure.

"I forgot I had this," Puck said with a smile. "Let me guess, you were going to plaster them around the school?"

"That was the plan," Kurt said, glad that Puck wasn't mad.

"Did you get this out of my room?" Puck said, flicking through the stack. He handed it back to Kurt, who placed them back into his bag.

"Yeah, yesterday," Kurt said.

"So that's what Hanns was saying when I got home," he said. Seeing Kurt's confused expression he clarified, "She said someone came by but she wasn't supposed to say because they paid her a million dollars not to tell."

"Santana may have bribed her to keep her mouth shut," Kurt admitted.

"I thought I was missing some cash," Puck said. He leaned on to the wall, looking at Kurt fondly. "You didn't look too deep into the sex box, did you?"

"No. Why?" Kurt asked.

"I still have some pictures of you," Puck said with a smirk. Kurt gasped, blushing as he realized Puck did indeed have scandalous pictures of him, the first one that came to mind was of him deep-throating Puck's sizeable cock, nearly half of it sticking out lewdly from his mouth, and he was sure there was another one in there of him with cum splashed all over his face.

"Burn those, please," Kurt said, burying his face in his hands.

"Naw, I think I'll keep them for when I need some private entertainment," Puck said, ruffling Kurt's hair, something that always got on his nerves.

"You're with Quinn, now," Kurt reminded him, straightening his hair. "You have all the private entertainment you need," he said a little bitterly.

"She's still president of the Chastity Club," Puck said. "You basically need the jaws of life to get her legs open."

"You did it once before," Kurt said.

"She's sworn off liquor," Puck said. "I have to rely on my charming ways, and so far she's proven immune."

Kurt chuckled awkwardly before confessing, "We…kind of got into it today."

"What do you mean?" Puck asked, grabbing Kurt's chin and scanning his face for any cuts or bruises.

"No, not physically," he assured him, pulling touched at Puck's concern. "She cornered me and told me to quit with the pranks. I refused and may have insulted her body before threatening to go all Dorothy of Oz on her ass."

Puck let out a loud laugh. "You have got to stop threatening to drop houses on people. Remember the lady at Bloomingdales?"

"She tried to sell me last season Rock & Republic boots before insisting they were only for women! She's lucky I didn't report her to the national office," Kurt said, still upset at his treatment by the store.

There was a tense silence between them, during which Puck stared at Kurt and Kurt avoided Puck's gaze as best he could. Eventually Kurt and Puck rested their backs on the same wall, staring at the same spot on the opposite wall as if it were an amusing movie. Neither moved, each afraid of breaking the delicate ease they'd fallen into.

A question scratched at the back of Kurt's head, but it was one he was afraid to say aloud. Finally, unable to ignore it, he asked, "Why her?"

The simple question was a loaded one, and Puck wasn't stupid enough to miss its importance. "You mean, besides the kid thing?"

"I know you have a child together, and though you're not raising Beth together it had to have some kind of impact on your decision to get with her," Kurt said, a tear once again spilling from his eyes.

"Honestly, the Beth thing had nothing to do with it," Puck admitted, reaching over and wiping away the stray tear that fell down Kurt's cheek. "I'm with her because she makes me feel the way you did when we first dated. Not exactly the same, because what I felt for you at first I don't think I'll ever feel with anyone again, ever," he said, and here Kurt couldn't help but blush, "but she sure comes in a close second."

Kurt looked up, satisfied with the answer. For these past few days he'd worried Puck chose Quinn because she could give him something he never could: children, a family, a normal life. Now he knew Puck chose Quinn because of something Kurt had already given him: love. Things were certainly over between him and Puck, but that didn't mean he couldn't hold dear all the things they'd had when they were together.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the current period and the beginning of the next, which happened to be Glee Club.

"Come on, No – Puck. We should get going," Kurt said, pulling away from Puck, whose hand was still softly stroking Kurt's cheek where the tear had fallen. Puck looked down on himself, still naked except for the towel, before shooting a raised eyebrow to Kurt.

"Stay here, I'll go scrounge up some clothes for you," Kurt promised.

"Don't call me Puck," he asked of him.

"What?" Kurt asked, confused.

"I hate when you call me Puck. I mean, yeah, that's what I want almost everyone else to call me, hell, even Quinn still calls me Puck, but it just doesn't sound right when you say it," he said. "Call me Noah."

"Alright," Kurt agreed, leaving the janitor's closet.

But you played it to the beat…

Glee Club commenced, with the students taking their seats and Mr. Schue writing this week's lesson on the board before launching straight into a spiel about it. "Forgiveness. Now who wants to give me an example…" Everyone tuned him out after the first word, Rachel and Finn the only ones intent on paying him any attention.

"Hey, what happened?" Santana asked, whispering over Mr. Schue's speech as she leaned over to Kurt. "We were supposed to meet last period. Are we still going to put the pictures up?"

"No," Kurt whispered, "that's off." He looked over his shoulder to where Puck was sitting with Quinn, the clothes he'd gotten from Finn's locker looking comically large on the boy. He ignored the dark stare Quinn shot at him before turning forward to Mr. Schue.

"What did he say to you?" Santana asked, not missing Kurt's quick glimpse at Puck and Quinn.

Ignoring Santana's question Kurt raised his hand, getting the attention of Mr. Schuester.

"Kurt, what is it buddy?" Mr. Schue said, addressing the countertenor.

"Mr. Schue, I have a song that I feel would be appropriate for this week's lesson," Kurt said, clutching his hands tightly.

"Okay," Mr. Schue said with his ever-present smile, "let's hear it."

Kurt took a songbook out of his bag before walking down the riser, meeting Brad at the piano. Turning to the song he wanted he instructed Brad on which key to play it before going to the front of the room and taking a seat at the stool Mr. Schue had set down for him.

"This is for someone who I felt wronged me, and so I thought the right thing to do was to get back at them for what they did to me. I realize now how foolish I was, and how revenge wasn't the answer. I should have forgiven them, and now instead I'm asking for their forgiveness. So, you know who you are, I hope you can forgive me," Kurt announced, looking quickly at Puck before signaling to Brad to begin.

"Looks like our boy's rejected your evil ways, Satan," Mercedes whispered triumphantly to Santana.

"Damn. Well there goes my plans for the week," she said once she realized her fun game with Kurt was over.

Kurt let the few quick piano keys play out before belting out into the low haunting melody of the song.

I heard that you're settled down,
that you found a girl and you're married now,

I heard that your dreams came true,

Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you.

Old friend, why are you so shy?

Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light.

As much as his voice waivered Kurt continued with the song, hastily wiping back the tears he felt rising to his eyes.

I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited

but I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.

I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded

that for me, it isn't over.

Never mind I'll find someone like you,

I wish nothing but the best for you, too.

"Don't forget me," I begged.

"I'll remember," you said.

Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.

Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.

He stole a quick glance at Puck, whose hands were locked in an embrace with Quinn's, and though it pricked at his heartstrings a little he realized it didn't hurt as much as it did before. 'Maybe this is healing,' he thought. 'Maybe I can be okay with this'

You know how the time flies,

Only yesterday was the time of our lives.

We were born and raised in a summer haze,

Bound by the surprise of our glory days.

Instantly his mind returned to all the good times they had, and maybe that's what had clouded his mind when he sought his payback. He remembered only all the good times he and Puck shared, not remembering the fights and the arguing, the tears spilled and the curses yelled. He'd looked back as a romantic, but now he saw their relationship for what it really was: flawed and imperfect.

I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited

but I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.

I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded

that for me, it isn't over.

Never mind I'll find someone like you,

I wish nothing but the best for you, too.

"Don't forget me," I begged.

"I'll remember," you said.

Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.

He meant this verse the most. He really did wish the best for Puck and Quinn, and though he might never admit it outside the confines of his mind, he did want to find someone like Puck. Maybe not exactly, but as far as first boyfriends go Puck had been wonderful and Kurt realized he'd be lucky to find someone like him in the future.

Nothing compares, no worries or cares,

Regrets and mistakes they're memories made.

Who would've known how bittersweet

this would taste?

Never mind I'll find someone like you,

I wish nothing but the best for you.

"Don't forget me," I begged.

"I'll remember," you said.

Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.

Never mind I'll find someone like you,

I wish nothing but the best for you, too.

"Don't forget me," I begged.

"I'll remember," you said.

Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,

Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.

He finished to an uproarious applause from the Glee Club. Getting to his feet he eyed Puck, whose eyes were glistening, and they exchanged a brief smile, each forgiving the other for their past transgressions. They reached a silent compromise, a new friendship. Kurt realized it was the silver lining that came out of their relationship, and he embraced it wholeheartedly.


A/N: Firstly, thank you, thank you, thank you! You guys have no idea how wonderful you make me feel when you give me such warm reviews. I never know how a story will be received, to find out that it's actually enjoyed by someone other than myself is always a surprise, and it gives me a boost of confidence so that I can start a new story without worrying that no one will like it. So thank you all for reviewing!

Yes, this is the end. If you feel a little bitter about it remember this story was labeled as Angst and Hurt/Comfort, and I think I got all three of those things down. And I have to say it feels pretty damn good to actually finish a multichapter fic haha. Don't worry, I'll return to my other fics soon. I just needed a (long ass) break from them.

Anyway, hope you liked this one! I know I couldn't please all of you, but I hope I stayed true to the characters and accurately portrayed how they would react given each situation.

Once again, thanks for reading and reviewing!