Hello everyone, I hope you like this chapter, I know I haven't updated much but I've been working hard on something to send to my publisher (I'm working on my 3rd actually published story) Don't forget to review and feel free to join me on my fb page under my author's name.
This is my second update today so yeahh me :D
This chapter is a little short and I know you've been waiting a while for it, but I felt it was a good place to stop.
Kurt woke next morning to the sound and smells of his father cooking in the kitchen above him. It used to be tradition for his father to cook every Sunday morning, but as they had gotten busy over the years it had fallen by the way side. It had always been one of Kurt's favourite days; Burt Hummel could cook a mean fried breakfast.
Kurt threw on a baggy pullover and ran upstairs smiling. "Morning Dad," He called getting into the kitchen.
"Morning son, this will be ready in a few munities how about you go wake Mohawk up and get him down here to eat it. Do you want mushrooms?"
"Finish that sentence my boy and you won't get anything," Burt grinned, it was so easy to fall back into the routine they used to have.
Kurt's musical laugh rang out as he ran up the stairs. "Noah, wake your lazy ass up and get down stairs for breakfast," Kurt yelled knocking on the door of the spare room.
All Kurt could hear was a grunt. Gingerly he opened the door and peaked his head around to see if their guess was with the land of the living yet.
Puck was sprawled out on the bed snoring lightly. He looked adorably innocent making Kurt have to supress an 'aww'. "Puck, Noah," There was still no movement, Kurt sighed in frustration and cocked his head to one side thinking about the best way to wake him up. "48, 52, Hike," He yelled loudly in his best impression of Puck himself.
Puck jumped comically to his feet trying to run as he did so, unfortunately for Puck the movement meant that Puck's feet got tangled in the bedding and he fell in a heap on the floor. "That's cold man, real cold," Puck grumbled.
"I thought you might be interested in food, but if you'd rather go back to bed…" Kurt stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him counting on his fingers, one, two, thr… the door re-opened showing Puck rubbing his eyes.
"Remind me not to get on your bad side Hummel you have evil powers," Puck scowled or at least pretended to he couldn't help but crack a smile.
"Do you want to put on a shirt first?" Kurt asked blushing slightly.
Puck looked down realising he was only wearing his boxers. "Nar, I got nothing you haven't seen before," He shrugged.
Kurt smiled a little. "Most guys would care, thanks Puck."
"You can call me Noah, I don't mind," Puck said slightly shyly following Kurt to the kitchen where Burt was dishing up their breakfast.
"You know you're not my type right," Kurt teased.
Puck and Burt laughed. "No, my son leans more towards short guys with an unhealthy obsession with hair gel."
"Hey, that's not fair, he's not that short," Kurt defended.
"Kurt," Puck rested a hand on Kurt's shoulder, "He's a hobbit. So much so I'm going to call him Bilbo from now on."
"Which of the dwarves does that make you two?" Burt asked laughing.
"Well, if he's going to be Bilbo then Kurt has to be Thorin, cos, you know, you've got to ship Thilbo," Puck said seriously. "I wanna be Bard, that way I get to be the one who shoots the Dragon."
"You're both mad, you realise that right," Burt sniggered.
Kurt's phone dinged to let him know he had a new email. "Can I get that Dad, I'm expecting something important from Dalton."
"Sure son, I hope it's good news."
Kurt flicked though the messages and opened the ones from the people he'd emailed last night and a smile steadily grew across his face. "Noah, I think you should look at this."
Puck took the offered phone and read the email showing on the screen. "You have to be shitting me."
"I shit you not," Kurt grinned at the look of pure disbelieve on Puck's face. "I didn't want to get your hopes up and tell you what I had planned but, well, it's worked."
"Would someone like to give me a good reason why I shouldn't be punishing you for foul language at the breakfast table?" Burt asked sternly.
"Kurt's got me into Dalton," Puck said still not quite believing it.
"They said he can have the same scholarships as me. That was the last email I was waiting for, confirmation from the dean," Kurt told his father then turning to Puck. "You don't have to say yes, but if you went you could start fresh and you'd be close to Beth, and it would look great on any CV when you're applying for collages and jobs and things."
"My mom's going to go nuts. My sister just moved to go live with my Dad in New York, Sarah was the kid she actually wanted, I was just the reason she had to get married. Now I'm leaving too."
"I'm sure she'll be proud of you getting into a great new school," Burt said, mainly because that's what parents were supposed to feel when their child had done well.
Puck snorted. "No, she'll find a way to make me feel guilty and that I'm doing something to offend her and if she's on top form, she'll find a way to say that I'm offending God with my actions."
Burt growled angrily. "We'll get your things whenever you're ready; move you both in at the same time.
"First we have work; I have a stunning car to work on."
That Saturday was the hardest the Puck had ever worked, but he had more fun than he'd ever had. He marvelled at how Kurt worked, it was like he was a different boy; he put on his overalls and dived into the dirtiest jobs without a care. And the other workers listened to him and came to him when they were stuck on a job. It was a revelation.
By the time Burt locked the shop up for the day Pucks arm's hurt from all the heavy lifting and work he'd been doing, and his sides hurt from laughing so much.
The next part of the day Puck was looking forward to far less. They drove straight to Pucks house, he didn't know if his mother would be there or not. She had a job but only worked when she felt like it. Every day she would call if she wanted a shift, he was dreading the confrontation he knew would happen if she was there.
"It will be ok, my Dad will make sure everything's ok, I promise," Kurt said reassuringly.
They pulled up on the side walk outside Pucks house there was already a small blue and very clapped out looking car siting outside.
"She must still be here," Puck said his voice betraying his feelings.
"Let's get this done then shall we. And then we can go home and order pizza, God only knows how long or how much Kurt has to pack," Burt teased trying to lighten the mood.
It worked and made both the boys sitting nervously in the back.
"Yeah, let's get this over with. I don't have a lot of stuff so it shouldn't take long to pack what I need."
"No, we're staying until we pack all your things," Kurt said fiercely. "If your Mom is like you said she might not let you come back for it. There's plenty of room in the back of Dad's truck we'll get the important stuff first then the rest."
"A man with a plan. Come on then, you can deal with my Mom, your way more scary that she is."
Puck's mom was passed out on the couch with an empty bottle of cheap whiskey next to her.
"Son stay here, look around for anything you recognise as Noah's, if she wakes up try and keep her out of the way while we pack up his bed room."
"Sure Dad, just hurry, and don't worry about clothes too much, he has dreadful taste anyway. I'll take him shopping for more."
Puck laughed softly. "We'll do clothes last, I can always throw them out the window in a pinch."
Mrs Puckerman didn't wake up until an hour later just as Burt was carrying the last bag of things out to the car and Puck was looking around the rest of the house to make sure nothing had been left behind.
"Who the fucking hell are you?" She snarled getting groggily up from the sofa.
"Finally awake I see," Kurt sneered; people who acted like this shouldn't be allowed to keep kids. When you have children they are supposed to be more important than drinking or partying.
"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" Mrs Puckerman was more awake now and advancing on an unflinching Kurt.
"Mom, leave him alone," Puck said from the door way.
"Who is he?" She snarled at her son.
"I'm going to live with him before I start my new school. I got a scholarship to a private school," Puck explained.
"What school in their right mind would take you on scholarship," she sneered nastily.
"One of the best in the country Mrs Puckerman, Noah will do very well there, I'll make sure of that," Kurt said saving Puck from having to answer, the look of pain and hurt in his friends eyes was too much for him to take without saying anything. "Noah is very intelligent and if you spent more time encouraging him instead of belittling him he would have shown that to you. Perhaps if you spent less time in the bottom of a bottle and more time being a mother you would be able to see how much of a wonderful young man your son actually was," Kurt ranted.
"Kurt man, leave it, let's just go. I never have to come back again," Puck said attempting to keep the emotion out of his voice.
"So your abandoning me too are you?"
"No Mom, you pushed me away. I'll write to you or something let you know how I'm doing. Maybe one day you'll care."
Noah left the house with his head held high, there was no looking back, no regret, he was secure in the knowledge that he'd made the right decision. And from now on, his life would be better.