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30 Days of Puckurt drabbles 2

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Kurt looked around the crowded room, hoping he wouldn’t see Finn. His parents had taken a lot of convincing to let him come visit his older brother at college, and only because he was supposed to be staying at his aunt’s house instead of in Finn’s dorm, and if Finn found out he wasn’t tucked in bed in a room that smelled like mothballs, his parents would be on the first plane to drag him home.

“Hey,” a guy with a Mohawk, holding a can of beer, eyed him up.

“Hi,” Kurt replied, suddenly thinking sneaking out of his aunt’s to go to a frat party was a bad idea. He had no idea if Finn had even decided to come, last he’d heard Finn had other plans, so if he needed help, there was no one.

“Name’s Puck,” the guy said. “Want a beer?”

“Sam,” Kurt lied. No use giving out his real name to a complete stranger, even if the bad boy was hotter than any guy back home. “Sure.”

Kurt took the can and cracked it open. He hated beer but he took a sip anyway since the guy didn’t seem in a hurry to leave.

“Party sucks,” the guy downed his can of beer and tossed the can under the table. “Want to split Sammy?”

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed before his mind fully processed what Puck had said. That didn’t stop him from following Puck as he made a path through the crowd and out the door.

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“What’s your name Kid?” an intimidating, dirty man demanded as he shoved Kurt to the ground.

“Leave him alone Hank,” another voice yelled and suddenly Kurt found himself surrounded by a group of young men, shielding him from the angry man. “He’s with us.”

He wasn’t, but he wouldn’t argue if it meant Hank would leave.

“You alright?” the tallest man asked as he offered Kurt a hand and pulled him to his feet. “Hank’s a jerk but he usually leaves us alone. He’s scared of Schue.”

“Finn, shut up,” the guy with a Mohawk hissed. “We don’t know anything about him,” he turned to Kurt. “What are you doing here Kid?”

Kurt looked around at the run down neighbourhood then down at his mostly clean, expensive clothes. The only clothes he now owned. His aunt, his legal guardian since his parents died when he was eight, had kicked him out when he told her he was gay and she’d thrown him out without giving him time to pack any of his stuff. He didn’t look anything like the street rats standing in front of him.

“Puck, you’re scaring him,” Finn frowned but Kurt noticed he made no move to get in the middle. Puck was obviously the leader of their little gang.

“I’m just looking for the shelter,” Kurt whispered, looking down at his shoes. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Seems trouble found you anyway,” Puck clamped a firm down on Kurt’s shoulder, making him jump. “Shelter’s all full this time of night, so’s the park benches.”

“Oh,” Kurt visibly deflated.

There was a whispered conversation floating around him but Kurt didn’t pay attention. They were probably talking about where they could pawn his clothes.

“How old are you?” Puck asked.

“Eighteen,” Kurt lied. He wouldn’t be eighteen for another four hundred and nine days.

“Come with us,” Kurt didn’t have a choice with the way Puck still had a grip on his shoulder. “Maybe Schue can help you.”

“Schue helped all of us,” the tall one, Finn, said as they walked toward an empty building. “But he won’t take anyone under eighteen.”

Kurt wasn’t sure he wanted to know what activities Schue was involved in that required all his boys were legal age. But it did keep him off the streets and he wasn’t alone.

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“Don’t touch me,” Kurt moved away from Puck’s comforting touch, tucking himself against the opposite corner of the couch and glaring at his boyfriend.

“Do you want some Kleenex?” Puck offered.

“No,” Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes red itchy and red from the crying he’d done from almost the beginning of the movie, a movie his boyfriend had promised had a happy ending. It hadn’t; the movie was the most depressing thing Kurt had ever watched and he’d spent most of it sobbing into Puck’s chest. Which had probably been his boyfriend’s plan after Kurt had firmly said no horror movies. “Next time I’m picking the movie.”

“Fine by me,” Puck said easily. “I like anything as long as I watch it with you.”

Kurt hated how it was impossible to stay angry at him.

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Kurt watched as Blaine stormed away from him after yet another fight. It seemed like all they did anymore was fight with each other, make up later that day, then fight again the next.

“Hummel,” Puck was suddenly beside him, looking in the direction Blaine had gone. “Why are you with him?”

“I love him,” Kurt replied.

“You’re miserable with him,” Puck rolled his eyes. “He picks more fights with you than Quinn did with Finn.”

“Are you saying my relationship with Blaine is doomed to fail?” he demanded. He loved Blaine, he did, he had since his spy mission at Dalton when Blaine had taken his hand and lead him through the halls of the school.

Puck turned to look at him but gestured to the empty hall where Blaine had gone. “I’m saying you deserve better than that.”

“I love him,” Kurt repeated firmly. If he said it enough, he’d start to believe it.

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“Do you have a problem with Sam?” Kurt asked out of the blue. Puck was minding his own business, sitting on the couch in the Hudson-Hummel living room waiting for Finn to finish mowing the lawn, when Kurt sat down next to him.

“Why would I have a problem with Sam?” Puck frowned. Sam was out with Mercedes so there was no chance he’d overhear them.

“You glare at him when you think no one’s looking at you,” Kurt replied. “And he’s the only guy you don’t personally invite to your guys’ nights. You even call me and Finn separately but ask one of us to invite Sam.”

Damn. He never realized Hummel was so perceptive.

“Nah,” he lied. “Sam’s my boy too.”

That wasn’t the truth. Sam hadn’t been his boy since the ass had taken his study notes and thrown them all on the floor during Nationals. Puck still planned on getting out of Lima, his goal was by the end of the summer, and he couldn’t wait to show the people like Sam that he wasn’t a Lima Loser.

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"Yeah, it was really sweet and romantic," Blaine was going on about his night with Kurt to some of the girls and Puck just happened to be in earshot. "I think losing our virginity to each other just made it so much better."

Puck was really glad Kurt and Finn weren't in the room to hear Blaine talking about his and Kurt's sex life. As it was, he shot Blaine a dirty look and left. If Blaine chose to think he was being homophobic, so what? Puck didn't care. What he cared about was the jerk talking about Kurt's sex life being his back.

And he cared that Kurt had lied. Kurt had lost his virginity in the summer between the 11th and 12th grade. To Puck. Blaine's wonderful night was a lie.

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“Dude, where’s Kurt?” Puck asked as he tossed the football at Finn. They’d been out in the backyard throwing around the ball for almost an hour without any sign of Kurt. It was weird. Every other Saturday, Kurt had been outside, slathered in sunscreen and making comments about their form. They’d even managed to talk Kurt into playing with them a few times.

“Still in bed,” Finn replied. “Had a date with Blaine last night and got in late.”

Puck nodded and caught the ball. He threw it back as Mike and Rory walked into the yard and joined them, giving him a distraction so he could go into the house. Sam had gone back to Kentucky for the summer so it was just Finn and Kurt home, with their parents in DC through most of the week and sometimes the weekend.

He found Kurt still in bed but awake, curtains drawn and lights off. “Dude, are you hungover?”

“I’m fine,” Kurt whispered but Puck knew it was a lie. “Go away. I’m sleeping.”

“It’s one in the afternoon,” Puck pointed out. “But okay, I’ll pretend to buy it. You’re fine.”

“Thank you,” Kurt snuggled back under his blankets as Puck closed the door.

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“Hey Hummel, can you help me out with something?” Puck asked after Glee club practice.

“With what?” Kurt stopped, waving Mercedes off as she offered to wait and telling Finn he’d see him at home.

“A buddy lent me his car that he’s selling,” Puck explained as he and Kurt walked down the hall together. “I’ve been saving up to buy a used one and I need someone else’s opinion. Take a drive with me and tell me what you think?”

“Sure.”

 

“Why are you stopping?” Kurt asked as Puck pulled the car up to the lake. “What are you doing?” he added when Puck hopped out of the car and grabbed a blanket and basket from the backseat. Kurt got and started to follow him toward the water when Puck didn’t answer.

“I got hungry,” Puck replied.

Kurt watched as Puck spread out the blanket on the grass. “What about the test drive?”

“I kind of already bought the car,” Puck admitted. “I just needed an excuse to get you in the car.”

“Did you kidnap me for a picnic?”

“Yes.”

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It wasn’t his fault. Puck had left Kurt alone in his bedroom while he left to go pick up his little sister from ballet class and Kurt got bored. He didn’t go through Puck’s things and snoop, just look around the room at the things that were in plain sight. And when he sat down on Puck’s bed, he landed on something hard. A book.

He figured it was the book they all had to read for English class, and he really only meant to peek to see if his boyfriend was doing the required reading. The book he found definitely wasn’t the one they were reading for English class. Puck had A Game of Thrones hidden under his blankets.

Kurt slid the book back under the blankets and went downstairs to wait for Puck. If he happened to leave his own copy of the book on his desk next time Puck was over, his boyfriend didn’t need to know it was because he was snooping in his room. As long as Puck understood that Jon Snow belonged to him and Kurt wasn’t willing to share. Puck could have Robb Stark.

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“Hummel, turn off the light,” Puck demanded when Kurt walked out of the bathroom, leaving the light on behind him. Kurt was far from his first choice as a roommate, he liked him and everything but they didn’t have much in common. Puck wanted to room with either Finn or Sam or Mike, or even Artie, but Schue had brought out that stupid hat and drawn names and he’d ended up with Kurt. He was sure the other rooms where having fun, not going to bed before midnight.

“You can barely see it,” Kurt protested but he closed the bathroom door so only a sliver of light was peeking out from under it. “Better?”

“Afraid of the dark or something?”

“Of course not,” Kurt scoffed but Puck had the feeling he was lying. “I’m not five.”

Puck just shrugged and turned his back away from the light. He normally needed pitch black to sleep but he could deal with the light for a few nights.

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Kurt sighed as he changed the channel from one commercial to another. His parents had gotten stuck in DC when their flight was delayed, Blaine was out of town visiting his brother, and the girls had decided to have a sleepover at Quinn's, and Quinn's mom didn't feel comfortable with letting a boy attend her daughter's sleepover, and Sam went back to Kentucky for the weekend. Add in that Finn had been hit with a massive case of the flu and was spending the weekend in bed, and it added up to one thing. Kurt was bored.

His cell beeped, signalling someone was at least thinking of him.

'Coming over'.

It was Puck and by the time Kurt had read the text and clicked to reply, Puck was letting himself through the front door.

"Dude, if anyone asks, I was here all night."

There were a million questions Kurt could have asked: What had Puck done? Who'd be looking for him? Were the police going to beat down his door? But all that came out of Kurt's mouth was:

"Sure. You brought pizza."

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“That was amazing,” Kurt grinned as he practically bounced in the balls of his feet. “That you so much for the tickets.”

“Anything for you Babe,” Puck grinned back and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. He couldn’t do that in Lima but here in Columbus, no one even gave them a second look. “I knew you’d like it.”

“I love it,” Kurt leaned in for a kiss. “Did you?”

“Of course I did,” Puck lied. He’d actually found it boring and had the entire three hours watching the expressions on Kurt’s face change as his boyfriend watched the play. For him, that had been a perfect night.

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Normally Kurt did all the cooking in their household. Finn pitched in occasionally but most times he worked late and by the time he got home, he was reheating the leftover plate Kurt had fixed for him. Puck thought it would be awkward, living with both his boyfriend and his best friend, but it was actually working perfectly. Until tonight.

Kurt had called to say he was stuck in a meeting with a teacher and would be late getting home. Finn was upstairs, asleep after working a double shift, so Puck decided he'd try to cook. It wasn't that he couldn't cook, he told himself, but that he'd never really had to try. His Nana always made sure there was plenty of food for him and his sister when they were growing up and then he'd moved in with Kurt and Finn. But he could cook. How hard could it be?

 

Kurt got home, annoyed that his professor had kept him after class to discuss the supposed lack of depth in a play he'd written for an assignment. There was depth, it just went over the guy's head.

He was immediately hit by an overwhelming smell of spices and slightly burnt meat. Puck was in the kitchen, standing by the stove, and stirring something in their big pot.

"I'm making soup," he proclaimed. "Taste?"

Kurt obidiently opened his mouth for the spoon Puck was holding out to him. Then thanked his Dad for all those acting classes when his tastebuds were assaulted by what seemed to be every spice they owned.

"It's good," he choked. "Hot."

The smile on Puck's face was worth the lie and him not being able to taste anything else for the rest of the week.

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“Noah, I can’t do this,” Kurt tried to slip out of his lover’s grip but Noah held firm.

“Yes you can,” Noah assured him. “We’ve been training for this for years. You’re ready. We’re going to live in style for the rest of our lives.”

“It’s wrong,” Kurt insisted. “We’re taking advantage.”

“We’re making him happy,” Noah argued.

For the last five years Noah had been training Kurt to know everything about the royal family. King Burt’s health was beginning to fade and Prince Finnegan had taken over the family search for their missing member, a young boy kidnapped at the age of five and presumed dead. Noah was convinced that Finnegan would be easier to fool than Burt and they would convince the prince that Kurt was that long lost brother.

“Kurt, he just wants a brother,” Noah said softly. “The real kid was probably killed the same day he was taken but you look like you could be his brother. You’re not taking anything away from him or the king, you’re giving them exactly what they want.”

“I still don’t feel right about this,” he said but let Noah drag him through the castle gates.

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Puck was looking forward to the end of his shift. It had already been a hard day, two car accidents, one fire, and one heart attack, and they’d lost all but one patient on the way to the hospital. His partner Mercedes had taken over the driving duties after he’d had a five minute long cursing rampage over being unable to resuscitate their last patient at the scene. He would have kept trying all day if the doctor at the hospital hadn’t called time of death.

They were on their way to another call-out, pedestrian versus vehicle, and from the sounds of what dispatch told them, it didn’t look good.

“You have to help him,” a tall boy from screaming, straining to get free of the hold of a blond boy. “Don’t let my brother die!”

“Keep him back,” Mercedes yelled as they knelt beside their victim. He was just a kid, he looked about fifteen years old, bleeding from numerous cuts, both legs obviously broken, and worst of all, he was still conscious somehow. “What’s his name?”

“Kurt,” the blond boy told them. He still had a firm grip on his sobbing friend and Puck hoped he wouldn’t let go. Hysterical family members, while he could understand their fear, made his job harder.

“Kurt, can you hear me?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Puck nodded. “Don’t try to move. We’re going to stabilize you so we can take you to the hospital, alright?”

“Will it hurt?”

Looking at the bloodied and broken boy, it was hard to believe Kurt felt no pain, but it wasn’t the first time Puck had seen it. Adrenaline and shock were powerful things.

“No,” he lied. “You’re going to be fine.” He was going to make sure he didn’t lose this particular victim.