Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/165438.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Kurt_Hummel/Noah_Puckerman
  Character:
      Finn_Hudson, Blaine_Anderson, Rachel_Berry
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-02-24 Words: 16749
****** must have been kissing a fool ******
by carolinecrane
Summary
     Blaine won't shut up about what a fantastic kisser Rachel is, so Kurt
     decides to go to the source for lessons. The source being one Noah
     Puckerman.
You know, for a girl, Rachel’s really a very good kisser.
Kurt had been playing those words over and over since Blaine said them,
picturing his dreamy smile and the way he kept pushing that one wayward curl
back off his forehead as he spoke. Which led to him picturing Rachel pushing
that curl off his forehead, and before he could stop himself Kurt was picturing
the kiss, in technicolor, like a particularly bad song he couldn’t get out of
his head.
Frankly it was worse than the time Mr. Schuester forced them to listen to
Captain and Tennille and Kurt spent a week dreaming about muskrats doing
depraved things to each other.
Once the initial trauma of picturing Rachel trying to suck Blaine’s lips right
off his face subsided, he pulled himself together and took stock of the
situation. And the situation, as it turned out, was that Blaine appreciated
experience. Finesse. And Kurt, while certainly willing to learn, currently
possessed neither of those things.
So he decided to go straight to the source. The source being one Rachel Berry
and her apparently magic lips. It wasn’t a terrible plan, he reasoned as he
pulled into her driveway on a Friday afternoon. After all, he’d made out with
Brittany and lived to tell the tale, so he could probably kiss Rachel without
experiencing any life-altering after effects.
Of course there was always the chance she’d turn him bi too, but if Brittany
couldn’t do it, he doubted even Rachel had that kind of power.
She didn’t look all that surprised to see him when she opened the door. In
fact, she looked as though she’d been expecting him. Kurt squared his shoulders
and pushed his chin out a little further, clutching his shoulder bag and
telling himself that he could do this. It was just Rachel, and considering the
number of people she apparently went around kissing, it probably wasn’t even
going to affect their friendship.
“Hello, Kurt,” she said, smiling at him in a way that told him she’d been
listening to Joni Mitchell again. “I was just working on a new song.”
“I won’t stay,” he said as he brushed past her into the house, careful not to
look toward the basement stairs, lest he have to relive the kiss all over
again. Instead he kept his eyes focused on the hallway that led to her bedroom,
and once she’d closed the front door he followed her down the hall.
As soon as they were safely in the privacy of her room he opened his mouth to
state his business, because he knew full well that getting it over with was the
only approach to what was sure to be a humiliating situation. “I have a favor
to ask.”
He felt his cheeks flush, but he didn’t let it stop him. He’d survived greater
humiliations than this, after all, and at the hands of far more terrifying
people. “I came here because Blaine won’t stop talking about what a fantastic
kisser you are.”
“Really? Well, I do pride myself on a stellar performance, no matter the role.”
She smiled, and Kurt rolled his eyes and checked the urge to deflate her
already overlarge ego with a well-chosen verbal jab. Instead he sat down on the
edge of her bed and crossed his legs, hands resting carefully on his knee.
“Indeed. And since you learned to kiss from Finn, I can’t very well ask him to
teach me his technique. Even if he didn’t get jumpy at the mere mention of a
little boy-on-boy action, he’s sort of my brother these days. So that leaves
you. It’s unorthodox, I realize, but I’m sure that we’re both mature enough not
to let this interfere with our friendship.”
“But I didn’t,” Rachel said, and when she frowned at him he sort of wanted to
scream, because he’d rehearsed that speech at least two dozen times in the past
twenty-four hours.
“Didn’t what?"
“I didn’t learn to kiss from Finn. At least, he’s not the first boy I kissed.
Well, he is, but just once, and it was over so quickly. No, I suppose if anyone
taught me anything, it was Puck.”
“Puck,” Kurt repeated, cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red as he
pictured the boy in question.
He remembered -- vaguely -- that brief period during sophomore year when Rachel
dated Puck for roughly five minutes, and he’d heard both her and Finn moaning
about it enough to know full well that she’d had another, even briefer
encounter with him just before Christmas. But he’d never really paid much
attention to what Puck was doing, so the fact that he’d been the one to teach
Rachel anything hadn’t dawned on Kurt.
But if anyone had experience, it was Puck. He could probably hold a Master
Class in kissing, now that Kurt thought about it. Not that Kurt expected...but
Puck was, above all, an opportunist. The question was whether Kurt was willing
to risk the humiliation of broaching the subject again, and with Puck, of all
people. Then again, they didn’t even like each other, so at least there was no
friendship to ruin.
“Thank you, Rachel," he said, standing up and brushing imaginary wrinkles from
the front of his jacket. “I just remembered I have somewhere to be.”
“Already? But I wanted to get your opinion on the song I’ve been working on.”
“I’ll catch it on your Myspace,” Kurt said, waving over his shoulder as he let
himself out.
~
Deciding to proposition Puck was a lot easier than doing the actual
propositioning. He had to get Puck alone, for one thing, which should have been
simple enough, considering he and Finn were friends again. But that meant
whenever Puck was around, Finn was there too, and it wasn’t as though Kurt
could just march into Finn’s room and request a moment of Puck’s time.
He thought about waiting outside the school, but there was too big a risk that
Karofsky or one of his comrades-in-arms would find Kurt before he found Puck,
and he’d already pressed his luck enough on that front. So in the end he found
himself loitering outside Finn’s room one Saturday evening, waiting for the
moment when Puck announced that he was leaving.
Listening to the two of them fire insults at each other over whatever video
game they were playing was painful, to say the least, and he’d almost rethought
his plan entirely when finally Puck stood up and announced that he had to get
home before his mother grounded him again. Kurt darted down the stairs and out
the front door before either boy spotted him, shivering in the cold night air
and wishing he’d remembered to grab a jacket.
Endless seconds later the front door opened, and Kurt heard Finn call a final
goodbye at Puck’s retreating back. And there was no way Finn could spot him in
his hiding place on the opposite side of Puck’s car, but he waited until the
front door was closed, just to be sure, before he stepped out of the shadows
and cleared his throat.
Puck tensed and looked up, squinting at him in the darkness for a second before
he recognized Kurt. As soon as he did his shoulders relaxed, and Kurt wondered
who Puck had been expecting to make him so jumpy.
“Kurt? What the hell are you doing out here?”
“I wanted a word,” Kurt said, and he was glad it was dark out so at least Puck
wouldn’t see him blush.
He’d been so determined to learn the kissing technique that would blow Blaine’s
mind that he hadn’t let himself think about this moment, but now that it was
here he was sure he was going to die of humiliation. At least if Puck didn’t
kill him first.
“Well spit it out, dude. I have to get home.”
Kurt rolled his eyes and took a step forward, bottom lip catching between his
teeth for a second before he made up his mind. The worst Puck could do was
laugh in his face, and it wouldn’t be the first time, so Kurt didn’t have any
reason to be scared. He’d certainly lived through rejection before, and at
least this time it wasn’t personal.
“I have a business proposition for you. A temporary arrangement, and no one
needs to know.”
“What, you mean like a job?”
“Yes, like a job,” Kurt said, taking a deep breath and willing himself not to
say anything that would make Puck too angry to consider his offer before he
even made it. “I need you to teach me how to kiss.”
“What?”
And okay, maybe he should have expected it to be a little difficult to make
Puck understand what he was getting at. It wasn’t obvious, after all, and Puck
could have no way of knowing what he’d been going through just trying to get
Blaine to think of him as potential boyfriend material.
“I said I want to hire you to teach me how to kiss. Rachel says you taught her
what she knows, and Blaine won’t stop going on about how skilled she is, and if
I’m ever going to get him to take me seriously, I need to be at least as
memorable as she apparently was.”
“Wait...what?”
Kurt rolled his eyes for the second time, then he took a few steps forward. The
movement brought him close enough to get a good look at Puck, and even in the
darkness Kurt could see what a nice mouth he had. Sure, he knew objectively
that Puck was hot, but he’d never really thought about it before. Kissing him
wouldn’t be a hardship, certainly, as long as he managed to find a way to keep
Puck from talking any more than absolutely necessary.
“Twenty dollars a lesson sounds fair, don’t you think? I don’t think it will
take that many lessons, and I can assure you that I certainly don’t intend to
tell anyone about this, so you don’t even have to have a big gay freakout or
anything.”
“Dude,” Puck said, and Kurt bit his tongue to keep from snapping at him, “even
if I was into kissing guys, I’m kind of trying to get something going with
Lauren Zizes, and she’s got this whole thing about being courted or whatever. I
don’t think she’d be down with me getting some on the side, even from another
dude.”
“It’s not cheating, Puckerman, it’s business,” Kurt said, and really, it
shouldn’t be this hard a sell. “Think of it this way: you can use the money
from the lessons to buy nice things for Lauren. I’ll even throw in my personal
shopping expertise as an extra incentive.”
Puck didn’t answer, but he arched one eyebrow in an expression Kurt had seen
enough times to know he was actually considering the offer. It was more than
Kurt expected, really, and his stomach trembled oddly when Puck looked him up
and down.
“I guess it wouldn’t be that hard to pretend you were a chick, as long as I
keep my eyes closed.”
“With charm like that it’s amazing you ever get any play at all,” Kurt said.
“So do we have a deal?”
“I’ll think about it,” Puck said, then he pulled open his car door and slid
inside. A few seconds later he was gone, and Kurt shivered again and hurried
back up the walk to the front door. The locked front door, and he sighed and
leaned hard on the doorbell.
A minute later Finn pulled the door open, frowning as Kurt shoved past him into
the warmth of the foyer. “Dude, what were you doing out there?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kurt said, then he disappeared into his room
before Finn could ask any more questions.
~
Kurt was home alone the following afternoon, his homework spread out in front
of him and trying hard not to replay his conversation with Puck over and over
in his mind. It was humiliating enough to have propositioned Puck in the first
place, but if he actually told anybody about it, Kurt would never be able to
show his face anywhere near McKinley again.
He’d probably have to leave Lima entirely.
Possibly even Ohio.
He was so busy trying not the think about it that he forgot no one else was
home until the doorbell rang for the second time. Kurt let out a sigh and shut
his history book, then he ran down the stairs and pulled the front door open.
Puck was leaning against the door frame, his jacket hanging open over a faded
Aerosmith t-shirt, and Kurt swallowed hard at the sight of perpetually tan skin
and the arrogant smirk that shouldn’t be nearly as appealing as it was.
“Finn’s not home.”
“I know,” Puck said, then he glanced toward the street like maybe he was afraid
someone might spot him. Like he didn’t spend half his life in their house these
days. “You gonna let me in or what? It’s freezing out here.”
Kurt nodded and stepped aside, shivering against the rush of cold air as Puck
brushed past him. He closed the front door and locked it, then he took a deep
breath and turned to face his...guest? Tutor? Business partner. Maybe if he
kept thinking of it as a business transaction, he’d actually get through the
next five minutes of his life without completely humiliating himself.
“So I take it you’ve come to a decision?”
“If you mean will I teach you how to mack on a dude Puck-style, then yeah. But
nobody hears about this, got it? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being into
dudes, I guess, but I don’t need to be confusing the ladies.”
“As though I’d want anyone to know about this.” Kurt rolled his eyes and
silently congratulated himself on sounding more confident than he felt. “So
when did you want to start?”
“No time like the present, right?” Puck said, his smirk shifting into something
almost...animal. He took a step forward, and Kurt shivered all over again and
took an involuntary step backwards. When he realized what he’d done he blushed,
but he reached up and planted a hand in the center of Puck’s chest.
“Not here. I’d prefer if my father didn’t come home early and find me making
out with a straight football player in the front hallway. Frankly that’s a
conversation I’d rather not have again.”
“Again?” Puck said, but Kurt didn’t offer an explanation, and Puck didn’t press
for one. Instead he followed Kurt up the stairs to his bedroom, kicking the
door shut behind them and glancing around the room.
“Right, so I’ve been thinking about it, and you’re trying to get with the
Hobbit, right?”
“The...oh, for the love of...he’s not that short.”
Puck smirked at him and Kurt rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushing an even
deeper shade of red. “One, yeah, he is. And two, Santana’s the one who came up
with it. So lesson one covers going in for the liplock while you’re standing
up. And since the dude’s shorter than you, you’re gonna have to take off your
boots.”
“We’re the same height,” Kurt said, frowning and glancing at the heels on
Puck’s own boots. “How is making me shorter than you going to help?”
“Because first I’m going to show you how it’s done, and then you get to
practice,” Puck said, rolling his eyes as though it should be obvious. And
okay, now that he said it, it kind of was. Kurt shrugged and slipped his boots
off, then he turned to face Puck again.
“Now what?”
“Dude, chill, this was your idea,” Puck said. “It’s not going to work if you’re
all tense about it.”
He probably had a point, but Kurt wasn’t sure why Puck wasn’t being tense about
it. He was the one with the aversion to kissing guys, after all, and
considering that had been his main objection to this plan less than twenty-four
hours ago, Kurt wasn’t sure why he was suddenly so on board with the idea.
“Okay, so you’re the Hobbit, right, and I’m you.”
“His name is Blaine.”
“Fine, so you’re Blaine,” Puck said, but he didn’t really look all that
annoyed. Mostly he looked like he thought it was pretty funny, and Kurt wasn’t
sure if that was supposed to make him feel better or worse about this whole
thing. “I’m still you. So say you’re chilling before glee club one day, just
leaning against the wall...”
Puck gestured with one hand in the direction of Kurt’s bedroom wall, and he
rolled his eyes and stomped over to the spot. “Honestly, if I’d known there was
going to be role play involved...”
“Who’s teaching who here?” Puck said, waiting until Kurt huffed a sigh and
leaned against the wall. “So I spot you chilling outside the choir room,
looking like you’re just waiting around for your knight in shining armor or
whatever, and I decide to make my move.”
Puck took a few steps forward, stopping just in front of Kurt and pressing a
hand to the wall above his right shoulder. With his boots on he really was
about the right height, and Kurt couldn’t help wondering just how much thought
he’d put into this scenario. He leaned in a little and Kurt held his breath,
lips parted just a hair as he waited for Puck to kiss him.
“So let me ask you a question,” Puck said, pulling back and Kurt let out the
breath he’d been holding. “If you buy somebody a box of chocolates and they eat
the whole thing, then tell you they sucked, what does that mean?”
“It means they don’t have any manners.”
Kurt’s voice was sort of breathy, and he wasn’t even sure if he was relieved or
disappointed that Puck had chickened out. In fact, it made him feel a little
better in a way, because at least he wasn’t the only person in the room who was
nervous.
“Yeah, but what if they really did suck? I mean, is there some brand of
chocolates that hits it out of the park every time or what?”
“I assume this is about Lauren,” Kurt said, and for some reason he couldn’t
quite put his finger on, it sort of bothered him that Puck was thinking about
Lauren while he was supposed to be teaching Kurt how to kiss. “Why don’t you
just bake her some cupcakes? Everyone in school knows what an accomplished
baker you are.”
“You know, that’s not such a bad idea,” Puck said, then he grinned and Kurt
hated himself a little for thinking it was sort of sweet. “Thanks, dude.”
“I live to serve,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes and shifting a little against
the wall. “Now if we could focus here? I have a lot of homework to do.”
“Oh, right,” Puck said, clearing his throat and adjusting his stance until he
was swaying a little further into Kurt’s personal space. “Here goes nothing.”
He leaned in until his mouth was just a whisper away from Kurt’s, so close that
Kurt could feel Puck’s breath against his lips. He counted a beat, then
another, but Puck wasn’t closing the distance between them. ‘Frustrating’
didn’t really begin to cover it, and if this was what Kurt was paying for, he
was going to have to renegotiate the terms of their agreement.
He shifted a little against the wall, turning his face up a fraction more,
until his lips just brushed against Puck’s. For a second they both froze, then
Puck pressed forward and brushed their lips together again, harder this time.
Kurt’s hands came up to close around the front of his shirt, then Puck’s hand
slid into his hair and Kurt forgot to worry about whether or not Puck was going
to mess it up.
All he could think about was the press of Puck’s mouth against his, lips just
slightly parted and his touch almost gentle in a way Kurt never would have
expected. The few times he’d let himself consider it, he’d assumed Puck would
be demanding, all teeth and tongue and moving way too fast. But this...this was
soft and slow, as though they had all the time in the world, and when Puck
pulled back Kurt realized that he was stretching up on his toes to try to
follow him.
He flushed and looked away, reaching up to wipe at the corner of his mouth with
a thumb. When he ventured a glance up Puck was still watching him, eyes a
little glazed and his mouth turned up in a strange little smile.
“See what I did there?” Puck said, and his voice was huskier than it had been a
minute ago. “I made you come to me. The secret is to give him just so much, and
then make him take that last step. That way he thinks it was all his idea.”
“That’s very...insightful,” Kurt answered, though he wasn’t entirely sure he
believed it. Still, he’d certainly wanted to kiss Puck enough to take that last
step, so maybe he knew what he was talking about.
Puck grinned, then he backed off and sat on the edge of Kurt’s bed to pull his
boots off. “So now you know how it’s done, you get to practice.”
He stood up and crossed back to the wall, leaning hard against it and smirking
at Kurt. And there was something about having Puck in his room with his shoes
off, leaning against the wall and waiting for Kurt to kiss him, that was
ridiculous but sort of a turn-on at the same time. Kurt glanced at his boots,
then changed his mind and reached for the history textbook still lying on his
desk. He set it on the floor in front of Puck and stepped onto it, raising an
eyebrow when Puck laughed.
“Hey, whatever works, dude,” Puck said, and Kurt grinned in spite of himself
and pressed a hand against the wall near Puck’s shoulder.
For a second he just stayed like that, watching Puck watch him, and when the
butterflies in his stomach started doing somersaults, he told himself it was
just because of the strangeness of the situation. It didn’t have anything to do
with kissing Puck, though granted, he was good at it.
Of course he was good at it; he’d kissed practically the entire female
population of William McKinley High School, not to mention all his other
conquests. Kurt, on the other hand, was painfully aware that his only
experience to date included an experiment with Brittany that was mostly about
proving something to his father, a clumsy assault on his person by a closeted
football player, and one kiss with Puck that he was paying for.
Kurt felt his cheeks heat up again and he started to take it back, but before
he could Puck’s hands were on the front of his shirt, holding him in place.
“Hey, chill. You look like you’re about to hurl or something.”
“It’s not...I just...”
And that was just great, because he hadn’t embarrassed himself enough already
without losing his capacity for speech. He expected Puck to laugh at him, but
instead he just shook his head and pushed until Kurt stepped back off his
history book.
“Okay, plan B,” Puck said. Before Kurt could object his back was pressed
against the wall again, and this time Puck didn’t hesitate before he pressed
their lips together. He wasn’t all that gentle this time either; in fact, this
kiss was a lot closer to what Kurt expected kissing Puck would be like. It was
lips and teeth and hands holding him hard against the wall, making Kurt press
up into them and when he slid his arms around Puck’s neck, Puck let him.
He let Kurt cup the back of his head, let him slide his fingers through
surprisingly soft hair and when Puck’s lips parted against his, Kurt opened his
mouth automatically. Then Puck’s tongue was in his mouth, and Kurt wanted to
laugh, he wanted to push Puck away and say enough, because it was too much, and
he didn’t want to feel things just because Puck made a noise in his throat and
pushed a hand up under Kurt’s shirt.
As soon as he made contact with bare skin Puck let go, hands leaving Kurt like
Kurt had burned him. And Kurt expected him to look vaguely disgusted, with
himself or with Kurt, or maybe with both of them, it didn’t really matter. But
mostly he just looked sort of surprised, and Kurt couldn’t blame him there.
“Okay,” he said, reaching up to run his hands over his scalp, and Kurt couldn’t
help following the motion with his eyes. “I think you get the point.”
Kurt nodded idiotically as Puck reached for his boots, tugging them on without
bothering to sit down and he wasn’t sure if it was watching Puck nearly fall
over that did it, but Kurt came back to his senses enough to remember his end
of the bargain.
“Wait, your payment,” Kurt said, reaching into his messenger bag for his wallet
and pulling out a twenty. He held it out, and Puck glanced at the money and
then down at the floor for a second. Then he looked up again, but he didn’t
quite meet Kurt’s gaze as he pulled the twenty out of his hand.
“Thanks.”
“I think that’s my line,” Kurt said, then he blushed, but it didn’t really
matter, because Puck never looked back to see him do it.
~
Kurt didn’t hear from Puck again for a few days. He’d made the decision not to
press the issue; if Puck had decided he couldn’t handle it, Kurt wasn’t going
to try to talk him into more lessons. He’d picked up a couple pointers already,
after all, and he was pretty sure if he was hopeless at it Puck wouldn’t have
had any problem letting him know.
So he did his best to put it out of his mind, and when his cell phone beeped on
Wednesday night he was surprised to pick it up and see that the new text was
from Puck.
wut r u doing?
Kurt rolled his eyes and hit reply, then typed two words:
Homework. Why?
A few seconds later his phone beeped again, and when he read the message his
stomach did a weird little flip.
lesson 2, thats y. pik me up, we need ur car
Kurt didn’t bother texting back to ask why; he knew he wouldn’t get an answer,
and anyway he had a feeling this was another one of Puck’s imaginative role
play scenarios. The idea of his first kiss happening in his car wasn’t so far-
fetched, he supposed. Then again, he’d already had his first kiss a few times
over now, if he thought about it.
He never really counted Brittany, mostly because of her glaring lack of a
penis. He certainly didn’t count Karofsky, and now he’d kissed Puck a couple
times, but he wasn’t sure if he could count those either. He’d paid for them,
for one thing, and it wasn’t like Puck was kissing him because he was attracted
to Kurt. He was just doing a job, and granted, he’d demonstrated an
extraordinary work ethic so far, but that didn’t mean he was enjoying it.
Kurt swallowed a sigh and reached for his keys, then he stopped long enough to
tell his father he was meeting a friend for a quick study session and let
himself out of the house. He pulled up in front of Puck’s house a few minutes
later, and he’d barely coasted to a stop when the passenger door opened and
Puck climbed in.
“Damn, I love this car.”
“Finally we find some common ground,” Kurt said, smiling when Puck laughed. “So
where to?”
Puck shrugged sort of helplessly, and Kurt would have thought it was kind of
cute if this wasn’t Puck’s idea in the first place. “The school? It’s usually
empty by now.”
“Minus the cops who patrol the grounds every hour,” Kurt reminded him, and it
was pretty pathetic that Kurt had to remind Puck about avoiding the police. “I
know a place, but it’s a little bit of a drive.”
“Fine by me,” Puck said, grinning and stretching his arm along the back of the
seat. He started to lift one boot to brace it against the dashboard, but a
sharp look from Kurt made him change his mind.
Neither of them said much on the way across town, save an argument over who got
to pick the music and why there wasn’t anything on Kurt’s iPod that ‘doesn’t
suck’. They were almost to the park Kurt had in mind when Puck looked over at
him, and Kurt slowed to take a right before he glanced back at Puck.
“If you were going to sing something to impress the Hobbit, what would you
pick?”
Kurt rolled his eyes at the unfortunate nickname and pulled up in front of the
planetarium. He chose a spot far enough from the main entrance to keep any
passersby from wondering what they were up to, but close enough to the building
to avoid raising suspicion.
“Considering the last time I sang for him he told me to stop trying so hard,
I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask.”
“Seriously?” Puck said, frowning like he actually cared what happened to Kurt.
“Man, why do you even like this guy? You go to a gay school now, there have to
be other dudes to choose from.”
“It’s not a gay school,” Kurt snapped. He shut off the engine but left the iPod
playing, mostly because he knew Puck hated the playlist he’d chosen. “To be
honest, most of the guys who go there are a lot like...well, like you. They’re
nicer, certainly, and everyone gets along, for the most part, but I’m still
very much in the minority when it comes to sexual preference.”
“Hey, I’m nice,” Puck said, and it just figured that’s what he would take away
from Kurt’s speech. He laughed in spite of himself, shaking his head and
glancing over at Puck.
“Well, Blaine certainly likes the idea of being serenaded, but I think in order
to make an impression I’d have to choose something a little more contemporary
than last time. Maybe ‘Hold It Against Me’. I’d consider ‘Stay Here Tonight’,
but I’d have to rewrite the entire arrangement to make it work for my voice.”
Puck was just staring at him like Kurt had suddenly started speaking French,
which he assumed meant that Puck wasn’t familiar with either Britney’s or
Enrique’s current catalog. Not that he was all that surprised; Puck struck him
as more of the country/hard rock/songs that mention whiskey a lot type. He
shrugged and settled a little further into the leather upholstery, taking off
his seat belt and turning until he was facing Puck.
“What’s this about, anyway?”
“I sang to Lauren a couple weeks ago in glee. To show her that I was into her,
you know?”
“What did you sing?”
“‘Fat-bottomed Girls’.”
Kurt winced, but he couldn’t quite hide a smile, because that was the Puck he
remembered. “I take it that didn’t go over so well.”
“She said it made her feel like crap. I was just trying to show her that I like
her no matter what she looks like. She’s a badass chick, you know? I don’t want
to get with her for her body. I just like her.”
“As admirable a sentiment as that is, surely even you know that most people
want to feel wanted in a relationship. If you keep reminding her that you’re
not actually attracted to her, she’s probably not going to come around.”
Until that moment Kurt had counted the strangest moment of his life as the time
Dave Karofsky kissed him. Stranger than offering to pay Puck to give him
kissing lessons, stranger even than making out with Brittany while wearing a
trucker hat. But sitting outside the planetarium with Puck, giving him
relationship advice, beat even Karofsky’s tiny baby step out of the closet.
“How’d the cupcakes go over?”
“What? Oh, great. That was a good idea, dude. Thanks.”
“I’m glad to hear it. But maybe next time you should try to impress her with
something that’s not edible. If you really want her to think you don’t care
about her looks.”
Puck’s body was still facing forward, but he’d turned his head to look at Kurt
awhile ago. They were both leaning toward the center console, and Kurt hadn’t
realized just how close they’d gotten until the moment Puck’s gaze drifted to
his mouth. As soon as it happened Kurt remembered what they were doing there in
the first place, and his stomach fluttered into his throat and then sank like a
stone when Puck leaned across the console and kissed him.
His heart hammered in his chest, and he told himself it was just a basic
biological reaction. His body had reacted when Brittany kissed him too, and
when Karofsky did it Kurt thought his heart might never stop racing. So the
fact that he felt Puck’s kiss in every nerve ending in his body didn’t mean a
thing; he was just a really good kisser, and anyone would react to Puck’s mouth
moving against theirs, soft lips teasing Kurt’s own lips apart to slide his
tongue past Kurt’s teeth.
His hand was in Kurt’s hair again, tilting his head just so and sort of holding
him there, like maybe he had an agenda and he wasn’t planning to let Kurt go
until he’d checked off every point on his list. And Kurt wasn’t inclined to
stop him, not when Puck’s mouth felt like it was made to fit against his, and
Puck’s free hand had closed over his where it rested on the console.
As soon as he realized they were holding hands Puck pulled back, blinking at
him for a few seconds before he shifted against the upholstery and cleared his
throat.
“So, uh...lesson two, right? Going in for your first kiss in a car can be
tricky. I mean, if the Hobbit -- sorry, Blaine -- has any dude in him at all,
he’s going to be distracted by your ride. So that should make it a little
easier. But this thing gets in the way,” Puck said, pausing to pat the console
almost lovingly, and Kurt wondered for a fleeting second if he was only doing
this because he wanted to make out in Kurt’s car, “and the distance means he’s
got time to think about what’s happening and put a stop to it. So surprise is
your friend here.”
Kurt nodded, grateful once again that it was dark out so Puck wouldn’t see him
blush. Because of course he’d distracted Kurt with all that conversation before
he’d just launched himself at Kurt. It wasn’t about the sudden urge to kiss
Kurt; it was about setting the stage so Kurt could see his distraction strategy
at work.
“The element of surprise is key. Got it.”
Puck nodded once, then he looked away, out the windshield toward the building
in front of them. “Where the hell are we, anyway?”
“The planetarium,” Kurt answered. “I figured there wasn’t much chance we’d run
into anyone from McKinley doing something educational, and anyone who does
wander past will just assume we’re admiring the stars from the comfort of our
car.”
Puck grinned and turned to look at him again. “Good thinking. I’m impressed.”
“I have my moments,” Kurt said, smiling back at Puck, and when he realized he
was smiling at Puck he let out a surprised laugh. “You know, this wouldn’t be
such a terrible place to take Lauren. She’s quite a good student, and it is
educational.”
“I told you, she’s not into this kind of education. She wants to take it slow.”
He almost rolled his eyes at the end of the sentence, but he was sort of
smiling too, which meant he probably didn’t mind all that much. Puck exercising
any kind of patience was something Kurt never thought he’d see, but it was sort
of nice to know he was capable, anyway. It was nice to know that at least he
was making the effort, even if it did seem like maybe it was for the wrong
reasons.
“I didn’t mean making out in the parking lot,” Kurt answered, blushing all over
again. “You’d actually have to go inside the building. They have a giant
telescope in there, you can look through it and see the moon up close and
everything.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Puck said, and the weird thing was, it sounded like he
meant it. “So do you want to give it a try or what?”
“What? Oh,” Kurt said, lips pressed together to stop himself from doing
something embarrassing like laughing. “The element of surprise is sort of out
the window at this point, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but there’s still the console to think about. You should probably get
comfortable with working around it so you don’t have a panic attack about it
when it’s time for the real deal.”
It was a valid point, Kurt knew, so he nodded and took a deep breath, glancing
down at the console and then up at Puck again. He was determined not to panic
and chicken out this time, because once was bad enough, but if someone as
painfully heterosexual as Noah Puckerman could just kiss him like it was
nothing, Kurt should be able to do this no problem.
He rested a hand on the center console and scooted forward a little in his
seat, gauging the distance between their mouths so he wouldn’t overshoot his
target and break anyone’s nose. He stifled a hysterical giggle at the thought
and swayed forward, stopping just inside Puck’s personal space and resting a
hand on his chest.
Their mouths were barely a breath apart, just like that first time when Puck
had made him seal the deal. From this close up the angles of Puck’s face were
sharper, the contrast of dark eyelashes against his cheeks more stark and for
the first time Kurt could remember, he looked almost...vulnerable. Then Puck
made a noise somewhere in the back of his throat, the sound shooting straight
to Kurt’s dick, and his eyes snapped open just before he pressed forward to
kiss Kurt.
It was softer this time, just like that first time, and Kurt felt it all the
way to his toes. His skin burned where Puck’s hand curved around his neck,
fingers tracing the line of his throat and his lips just barely parted against
Kurt’s, keeping the kiss almost chaste. There was just a hint of tongue, and
part of Kurt wanted more, but he didn’t know how to ask and anyway he figured
he was probably supposed to be learning something here.
That was the whole point of this, after all; he was supposed to be studying
Puck’s technique, learning all his secrets about making someone feel wanted in
the best ways imaginable. And Puck was an excellent teacher, because if he
didn’t remind himself constantly that this was a business arrangement, it would
be easy for Kurt to forget Puck didn’t want him.
“Nice,” Puck said when Kurt pulled back, and he probably didn’t mean for it to
sound quite so dreamy. “You’ve got some okay moves, Hummel.”
“Thank you,” Kurt said, blushing because he had no idea if that was the kind of
compliment one expected a ‘thank you’ for.
If Puck thought it was stupid he didn’t say; instead he grinned, then he
glanced over the headrest toward the back seat. “So do you want to talk about
making the transition from the front seat to a little back seat action, or are
we sticking with kissing here?”
Kurt blinked at him for a few idiotic seconds as he tried to work out whether
or not Puck had just propositioned him. But that was impossible, because Puck
was still straight and this was all a means to an end for him. What end, Kurt
didn’t know, nor did he particularly want to. He didn’t care what Puck did with
the money; he couldn’t care, because the whole point of this arrangement was
developing the confidence to show Blaine once and for all that Kurt had what he
was looking for.
“I think we should stick with kissing,” Kurt heard himself say, regretting it
almost before the words were even out of his mouth. He was never going to get
another opportunity like this one, after all, not with Puck. But no matter how
hot and willing Puck was, it was still just a job for him, and Kurt wasn’t that
hard up.
“Your call, dude,” was all Puck said. Kurt expected him to declare the lesson
over and demand to be taken home, but instead Puck leaned across the console
again and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of Kurt’s mouth. It was soft
and sweet and so unexpected that Kurt didn’t even react before Puck was pulling
back again to grin at him up close.
“Hey, Kurt?”
“Hmm?” Kurt heard himself murmur, cringing at the dreamy quality of his voice.
“Can I drive?”
Kurt’s eyes narrowed, because it would just figure that Puck was trying to
seduce him into giving up the keys to his car. To someone who’d driven through
a convenience store, no less, though granted, he’d actually done that on
purpose. And really, considering what Puck was doing for him, it probably
wasn’t that much to ask. Kurt sighed and slid closer to the door, then he
glanced back at Puck.
“Fine. But you get so much as a scratch on her and my father will own you.
Understand?”
“Sure, whatever,” Puck said, grinning like a kid who’d just been let loose in
Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory as he scrambled out of the car. Kurt smiled in
spite of himself and swung the door open, stepping onto the pavement only to
find himself face to face with Puck. They were eye to eye, which meant they
were both wearing flat shoes, and Kurt wondered vaguely why he’d even noticed
when he found himself being backed against the side of his car.
“You know, dude, you’re not so bad after all,” Puck said, though Kurt got the
feeling Puck wasn’t actually talking to him. His gaze was locked on Kurt’s
mouth, and when his hands landed on Kurt’s hips Kurt didn’t ask what he thought
he was doing. He was paying for this, after all, so he figured he might as well
enjoy whatever extras Puck felt like tossing in along the way.
A second later Puck was kissing him again, pressing Kurt back against the metal
frame of the Navigator with his entire body, and Kurt stopped thinking at all.
Puck’s chest was pressed against his, one knee pressing between Kurt’s thighs
and he was not going to grind against Puck like some sex-starved cheerleader.
He had more dignity than that, but damn if Puck didn’t make it almost
impossible to remember.
He’d been hard pretty much since they got to the planetarium, because he was a
teenage boy, and it sort of went with the territory. Puck didn’t need to know
quite how much of an effect he had on Kurt, though, at least not if Kurt could
help it.
He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that; not long, probably, but time had
a strange way of stretching out when Puck was kissing him. And that was the
trick Kurt was supposed to be learning here, so he tried to pay attention. He
focused on the way Puck’s mouth moved against his, the way his tongue traced
every inch of Kurt’s mouth. Like he was committing it to memory, maybe, and
every time he discovered some new spot that made Kurt moan against him Puck
probed the spot until Kurt was panting and straining up for more.
By the time Puck finally let him go Kurt had abandoned all semblance of self-
control, and he blushed hot and red when he realized that there was no way Puck
had missed exactly how turned on he was. Though it was Puck’s own fault, and if
he was going to get all weird about a basic biological urge, that was his
problem.
Only Puck wasn’t really being weird about it, which was sort of the problem. He
wasn’t letting Kurt up, either; instead he was still holding Kurt against the
side of the car, then he reached up and ran the pad of his thumb along Kurt’s
bottom lip. A second later he cleared his throat and backed off, and Kurt had
to lock his knees against the urge to slide down the side of the Navigator.
“Come on, get in. I want to see how this thing handles,” Puck said, and Kurt
blinked and nodded idiotically before he rounded his own car to climb into the
passenger seat.
~
Giving Noah Puckerman relationship advice was the official weirdest moment of
Kurt’s life, right up until Saturday night rolled around.
It had been three days since their second lesson, and by the time they got back
to Puck’s house that night things were more or less back to normal. Puck was
too focused on driving to worry about whatever that kiss up against the side of
the car had been about, anyway, and Kurt was mostly too busy worrying about
Puck driving too fast and wrecking his baby to think about it. Mostly.
But when they pulled up in front of Puck’s house and he held out another
twenty, it felt just a little...well, creepy. Puck must have felt it too,
because he didn’t meet Kurt’s eyes when he took the money. He just muttered a
gruff ‘thanks’ and pocketed it, then he climbed out of the driver’s seat. He
didn’t try to kiss Kurt again when they nearly collided on their way around the
car, but he did reach out to steady Kurt with a hand on his waist.
Just for a second, then it was gone, but he looked so confused about it that
Kurt almost felt bad for getting him into the situation in the first place.
Because Puck was straight, and it was clear that he didn’t really understand
his body’s perfectly natural reactions to physical stimulus. It didn’t suddenly
make him gay just because he enjoyed the physical act of kissing another
person, and maybe Kurt would sit him down and explain that at their next
lesson.
If there was a next lesson.
He wouldn’t have been all that surprised if there wasn’t, especially after the
way they left things on Wednesday night. Puck hadn’t shown up at the house for
the past two days, anyway, and by the time Saturday rolled around, Kurt had
more or less put it out of his mind. Blaine was coming over to hang out and go
over some potential song choices for Nationals -- it’s never too early to
prepare, Kurt, he’d said in a voice that sounded so much like Rachel that for a
second Kurt thought they actually had missed an opportunity in not dating each
other.
The doorbell rang at 2:00 right on the dot, and Kurt ran down the stairs and
pulled it open. His smile faded abruptly when he saw that Blaine wasn’t alone;
standing at the bottom of the stairs with his back to the door was Puck, and
Kurt willed himself not to blush at the sight of the two of them trying their
hardest to pretend they couldn’t see each other.
“Hi,” Blaine said, and Kurt blinked and forced another smile.
“Blaine, come in,” Kurt said, standing aside to let him pass. Once he was
through the door Kurt looked at Puck again, taking in the tense set of his
shoulders and telling himself Puck was just being weird because of what had
happened during their last lesson. “Puckerman, are you coming in?”
Puck looked up at the sound of his voice, something Kurt couldn’t name flashing
in his eyes for a second before he nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, dude.”
He brushed past Kurt and headed straight for the stairs, not looking back on
his way to Finn’s room. Kurt paused with his back to Blaine and took a deep
breath, then he closed the door and turned the lock.
“What’s with him?” Blaine asked when Kurt turned toward him again, glancing in
the direction Puck had disappeared.
“Girl trouble, no doubt,” Kurt answered, and it wasn’t really a lie. It wasn’t
exactly the truth, either, but it wasn’t like Kurt could explain the
awkwardness without admitting how pathetic he was. “Come on, the newest Vogue
came in yesterday’s mail. Wait until you see the preview of Donna Karan’s Fall
line.”
He led Blaine up the stairs to his room, closing the door behind them and
taking Blaine’s coat to hang it up. When he turned back to the bed Blaine was
already sitting on the edge, flipping through the new Vogue without really
looking at the pages.
“So Finn and his friend...they definitely aren’t...”
“Oh my God, no,” Kurt said, glancing involuntarily in the direction of Finn’s
room. “Finn and Puck? Trust me, they are both one hundred percent
heterosexual.”
Even as he said it he remembered strong hands on his waist, pushing him up
against cold metal and holding him there while Puck kissed him like he was
trying to prove something. Who he was trying to prove it to Kurt didn’t know,
but his stomach trembled uncomfortably and he sat down before his knees gave
out.
“Shame,” Blaine murmured, and Kurt narrowed his eyes at the little smile
turning up the corners of Blaine’s mouth.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Blaine said, glancing up at Kurt with a look that told Kurt that
Blaine thought his naivete was sort of pathetic. “It’s just kind of hot, don’t
you think? I mean, they’re both good-looking. Don’t tell me you’ve never
pictured them together.”
“First of all, ew,” Kurt said, wrinkling his nose when Blaine laughed, and he
was grateful not for the first time that Blaine hadn’t been around to witness
Kurt’s disastrous crush on Finn. “You’re talking about my stepbrother. And
secondly, Finn is painfully straight. There’s less than zero chance of him
indulging in any teenage experimentation, even while intoxicated. So don’t go
getting any ideas.”
He hadn’t meant to sound quite so waspish, but judging by Blaine’s expression,
he’d failed. Still, if Blaine was going to develop yet another inappropriate
crush, he might as well benefit from Kurt’s experience.
“What about Puck? Any chance he’s ever done any experimentation?”
Kurt swallowed hard against the memory of Puck smirking at him and nodding
toward the back seat of the Navigator, reminding himself for the twentieth time
that Puck was just doing a job. It had nothing to do with wanting Kurt, and
Kurt was just fine with that, because he wanted the idiot currently smirking at
him from the other side of his bed.
Well. Most of the time Kurt was pretty sure that was who he wanted. Lately he
wasn’t quite as sure.
“He’s dated nearly every girl at McKinley and possibly a couple of the
teachers,” Kurt answered. “I sincerely doubt he’s going to wake up gay any time
soon.”
“Look, Kurt, I know you don’t believe in the concept of bisexuality,” Blaine
began, holding up a hand when Kurt opened his mouth to interrupt. “But you’re
wrong. I’m not saying Puck’s bi. I don’t know anything about him, other than
he’s nice to look at. But maybe you should do a little research before you
dismiss the concept altogether. It sucks to be judged for being gay, right? So
it probably sucks just as much to be judged for being bi.”
Kurt didn’t dignify Blaine’s little speech with an answer, but Blaine didn’t
appear to expect one, because he turned his attention back to Vogue and flipped
a few more pages. For awhile Kurt assumed that was the end of it, but a few
minutes later Blaine glanced up at him and grinned.
“Still, you have to admit the idea is kind of hot.”
Kurt knew Blaine was expecting him to smile and admit that not only had he
considered it, but that yes, the thought of Puck experimenting with his bi side
was pretty hot. Except that Kurt had considered it -- more than that, he had
firsthand experience with Puck’s so-called ‘bi side’ -- and he knew exactly how
hot it was.
The hotness wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it was confusing, being so
turned on by someone he didn’t even like all that much. Except the more time he
spent alone with Puck, the more he...well, Kurt didn’t hate him, anyway. The
truth was he could be kind of funny...charming, even, in a completely
predictable sort of way. He’d surprised Kurt with the amount of thought he was
putting into this whole thing with Lauren, and Kurt didn’t get it, exactly, but
it was still nice to see Puck acting like a human being.
So maybe the problem was that the more time Kurt spent around Puck, the harder
it was to ignore the fact that he wasn’t just the one-dimensional bully Kurt
had seen him as for so long. He could tell himself their lessons were just
business, that it was just a means to an end, but he couldn’t ignore the way
just being close to Puck made him feel.
“Kurt? Are you okay?”
Kurt blinked and looked up at Blaine, then he reached up to swipe a hand across
his eyes.
“Fine,” he answered, drawing himself up a little taller and turning away from
Blaine to reach for his iPod. “I just don’t want to waste my afternoon talking
about Noah Puckerman, if that’s okay with you.”
After that Blaine did let it drop, but Kurt didn’t miss the curious glances he
cast in Kurt’s direction when he thought Kurt wasn’t paying attention. He left
earlier than Kurt expected, though he could hardly blame Blaine, considering
how distracted Kurt had been all afternoon. The truth was he was sort of glad
to see Blaine go, and he felt a little guilty about it, but not guilty enough
to try to talk him into staying.
He had no idea if Puck was still around, and he wasn’t about to go find out.
There was no way he was going to embarrass himself by hanging around Finn’s
room like some pathetic groupie, trying to catch a glimpse of Puck. If Puck
wanted to see him...but Puck didn’t want anything from him. It was all Kurt’s
plan, it was him who needed something from Puck, and Puck could walk away any
time he wanted.
He was trying not to dwell on that depressing thought when someone knocked on
his door, and Kurt sucked in a sharp breath before he caught himself. He shook
his head and reminded himself that there were three other people living in the
house, and chances were good it was probably his dad or Carole checking up on
him.
“Come in,” he called, not bothering to look up when the door swung open.
“Is he gone?”
At the sound of Puck’s voice Kurt’s heart skipped a beat, and he looked up to
watch Puck walk into his room and shut the door behind him. He was looking
around like he expected someone else to appear around the corner, and Kurt’s
heart fluttered again when he realized Puck was talking about Blaine.
“He left an hour ago.”
“Good.” Puck turned and dropped onto the edge of Kurt’s bed, leaning back on
his hands and planting his feet wide apart and looking...sinful. Kurt flushed,
then he swallowed and gripped the edge of his desk hard enough to make his
knuckles go white. “So you interested in lesson number three?”
“Oh...okay,” Kurt stammered, wincing when his voice broke. “If you’ve got the
time.”
“I told Finn I was going home,” Puck answered, grinning and patting the spot
next to him on the bed. “This’ll be easier if you’re not halfway across the
fucking room.”
“Right,” Kurt said, though he wasn’t entirely sure he could stand. His dick had
taken an interest at the sound of Puck’s voice, and he wasn’t altogether
convinced that sitting on his bed with Puck was such a good idea. But it wasn’t
really any different than sitting in his car with Puck, he reasoned, so Kurt
steeled himself and stood up to cross the few feet between his desk and the
bed.
When he got close enough for Puck to touch, a hand reached out to close around
his arm, then Puck tugged him down onto the bed so that their thighs were
pressed together.
“Dude, relax.”
Kurt nodded, then he took a deep breath and tried to relax. He could do this;
he’d done this before -- twice, in fact -- and this time was no different than
the others. So Puck was enjoying it a little more than Kurt expected; he
probably just got off on the idea of Kurt wanting him. He’d always been an
attention whore, after all, and if he wasn’t getting enough attention from the
current object of his affection, Kurt was probably a decent stand-in.
He shoved that depressing thought away, then he gritted his teeth, muttered a
soft screw it under his breath, and gripped the front of Puck’s shirt. For a
second Puck looked sort of surprised, but Kurt didn’t give him time to take
back control of the situation. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t wait Puck out until
he took that final step. He just tugged him forward and pressed their lips
together, mouth open and when Puck made a funny little squeaking noise, Kurt
pushed his tongue past Puck’s teeth.
It took a second for Puck to get with the program, but then Puck turned toward
him, hands on him to drag him closer. It was kind of a weird angle, but Kurt
was too frustrated to care. He didn’t care about anything except kissing Puck
like he meant it, until Puck realized what was happening and freaked out. He
wanted Puck to pull away, to panic and scramble up off the bed, eyes wide and
staring at Kurt like he was some kind of freak. He wanted Puck to say he
couldn’t do this anymore, that Kurt didn’t need his help and he was ready to
make his move with Blaine.
He wanted to hear all that, because maybe if Puck said it Kurt would remember
why he’d started this in the first place. Maybe he’d remember that Blaine was
the one he was supposed to want. He was the one Kurt was supposed to dream
about and imagine kissing; he was the one Kurt could see having a relationship
with.
He couldn’t want those things with Puck, because no matter how good this felt,
Puck didn’t mean any of it.
As soon as he thought it Kurt pulled away with a gasp, then he reached up to
wipe the back of his hand across his mouth. He was dimly aware that his hands
were shaking, but he ignored it and reached down to brush imaginary wrinkles
from the front of his shirt.
“Damn, Kurt,” Puck said, voice breathy and close to Kurt’s ear and God, really,
really sexy. He closed his eyes against the sound, and when he felt Puck’s hand
slide around the side of his neck, he told himself to pull away. He tried, or
at least he thought he did, but in the end all he managed to do was give Puck
more room to work with.
Then Puck’s mouth was on his neck, pressing hot kisses against bare skin. His
teeth dragged along the sensitive skin just behind Kurt’s ear, and when Kurt
gasped Puck laughed and soothed the spot with his tongue. He pulled back just
far enough to huff a hot breath against Kurt’s skin, sending a fresh shiver
down his spine and this so wasn’t fair, because it felt real.
“Puck,” he said, though he wasn’t sure what he was planning to say, exactly.
Stop? He wasn’t sure he had the strength to make Puck stop, no matter how
imaginary these feelings were. “Puck...”
“Kurt,” Puck said, whispering against Kurt’s jaw as he kissed his way back to
Kurt’s mouth. “Shut up.”
He hardly had a choice when Puck claimed his mouth again, sliding a hand into
Kurt’s hair to hold him in place while he pushed at Kurt’s shoulder with his
other. Before Kurt even realized he was moving, he was letting Puck push him
back onto the mattress, stretching out next to him and pushing a knee between
his legs without ever breaking the kiss. And this was worse than pressing Kurt
up against the wall or his car, because there was no way Kurt could hide how
much he wanted this when Puck was right there.
Except Puck’s hips were rocking against him, and when Kurt turned into him just
a little he felt the unmistakable press of Puck’s erection digging into his
thigh. Kurt gasped against Puck’s mouth and tried to pull away, but Puck’s grip
was strong and the truth was his heart wasn’t really in it. He wanted Puck to
want him, wanted him to want this as much as Kurt did, and even if it was just
a biological response, at least Kurt could pretend for awhile.
“Lesson three,” Puck murmured against his mouth, then he pulled back just far
enough to look at Kurt. His hips were still moving, knee pushed between Kurt’s
thighs and pressing down until Kurt had to bite his lip to keep from moaning.
“Show me how much you want me.”
Kurt opened his mouth to deny it, or maybe just to tell Puck that they couldn’t
do this. It had already gone too far; Kurt had what he needed, and Puck didn’t
have to pretend anymore. Instead he slid a hand around the back of Puck’s neck
and tugged him forward, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to side of his jaw,
then the underside of his chin. He had no idea what he was doing, but that
didn’t seem to matter, because Puck was rocking even harder against him.
He was murmuring encouragement, things like yeah and like that, then he leaned
in and whispered right next to Kurt’s ear, you gonna come for me, baby? and
Kurt blushed hard and kissed him again, just to shut him up.
He was going to come; they both knew how close he was, just like they both knew
there was no point in denying it. And the thing was, Puck didn’t sound like he
minded. In fact, he sort of sounded as though he liked the idea of turning Kurt
on enough to get him off just from a little kissing. Like he wanted Kurt to
want him, and Kurt knew that was just Puck’s enormous ego talking, but he
couldn’t deny that it was true.
So he was going to let Puck make him come, and then he was going to spend the
rest of high school – possibly the rest of his life – hating himself for it.
“Kurt!”
The sound of his father’s voice jolted Kurt out of whatever trance being
anywhere near Puck put him in, and he froze and then pulled away from Puck to
clear his throat and try to sound relatively normal.
“I’ll be right there, dad,” he called, hands already on Puck’s shoulders to
shove him backwards. “You have to leave, he’s totally unreasonable when it
comes to boys in my room.”
“Yeah, okay,” Puck said, but he sounded kind of dazed, and when Kurt scrambled
off the bed and turned to look at him, Puck almost looked a little lost. Like
maybe he wasn’t sure what just happened, and Kurt definitely knew the feeling.
“Hey, Kurt?”
“We can talk about it later,” Kurt said, hands in his hair to try to tame it
into some semblance of normalcy. He glanced at Puck again, then he flushed and
reached for his messenger bag to dig out his wallet.
When he turned around again Puck was still watching him, but he was frowning
now, and when Kurt held out the twenty Puck ignored it and stood up. He took a
few steps forward, stopping in front of Kurt and leaning in to grip the sides
of his neck, and before Kurt could stop him Puck was kissing him again.
He expected it to be desperate and sort of insistent, like the kisses on his
bed just a minute ago. But it was barely a brush of Puck’s lips against his,
then another, and when Puck dove in for a third, like he couldn’t help himself,
Kurt slid the twenty into the pocket of his jacket and then pushed him away.
“You have to go.”
For a second Puck just looked at him, then he blew out a frustrated breath,
nodded once, and pulled the door open without looking back. Kurt told himself
it was for the best and followed him out of the room.
~
So far Puck’s kissing lessons had cost Kurt sixty dollars and most of his
dignity. He was starting to think they might have cost him his friendship with
Blaine, too, and it would have been funny if it wasn’t so pathetic, because the
whole point had been to bring Blaine closer to him.
They’d barely spoken since that stilted, awkward Saturday in Kurt’s bedroom,
and though Blaine acted as though everything was normal when other people were
around, he wasn’t inviting Kurt to hang out after school or even asking dumb
questions about Kurt’s other friends. They’d settled into a weird routine of
acting more or less like strangers – acquaintances at best – and the truth was,
Kurt couldn’t find it in himself to care.
It wasn’t that he didn’t miss Blaine. It was just…easier, brooding about Puck
when Blaine wasn’t around to ask him what the problem was every three seconds.
And that was the problem, because Kurt couldn’t stop thinking about Puck.
He knew why. It didn’t take a genius to know that he was confusing teenage
hormones with real feelings, and as soon as he put it out of his mind he’d get
back to normal. Except it wasn’t just the making out, though that was certainly
nice. It wasn’t even the fact that he’d come fairly close to his first bona
fide sexual experience with Noah Puckerman, of all people – at least he was
pretty sure it counted as a sexual experience, even though nobody had taken any
clothes off.
The part of this whole mess that was really bothering him was the fact that
he’d actually started to like Puck. As a person, and that was something Kurt
hadn’t realized was possible. They hadn’t even really spent all that much time
together, if he thought about it. Their conversations were hardly what he could
call stimulating, and it wasn’t as though they had anything in common.
But Puck was weirdly sweet and really hot, and when he’d more or less stormed
Kurt’s room as though he was actually jealous at the thought of Blaine being
there…but surely that part had been Kurt’s imagination. It had to be, because
Puck was still straight, and anyway he claimed to be in love with Lauren Zizes.
He hadn’t seen Puck since Saturday evening, and he told himself it was for the
best. They both needed some time to get these feelings, real or fabricated,
under control, and that wasn’t going to happen as long as they kept confusing
the issue with a bunch of unnecessary kissing.
Only kissing was sort of the whole point. It had been the point in the
beginning, anyway, but now…now Kurt needed to get his priorities back in order
and decide what he wanted so he could start straightening out the mess he’d
made. And what he wanted couldn’t be Noah Puckerman, because the only thing
Kurt knew for sure was that he couldn’t have Puck.
Maybe it would be easier to sort out if there was someone he could talk to
about it, but he couldn’t think of anyone he could trust with this. He’d
promised Puck no one would find out, for one thing, and even if he wanted to
break that promise, none of their shared friends would understand. He couldn’t
talk to his father, not unless he wanted another lecture on trying to entrap
straight boys, and frankly he didn’t think he could live through that again.
Which left Blaine, and there was no way Kurt could tell him what was going on
without admitting how it had started in the first place. So there was no one he
could talk to about it, except…well, Puck. But he wasn’t about to admit to Puck
that he’d developed feelings, real or otherwise. The best thing he could do was
leave it alone, and if Puck came around again, Kurt would just tell him that he
no longer required Puck’s services.
It was a simple enough plan, and it would have been easy to see through if Kurt
had been conscious the next time he actually saw Puck.
Maybe he should have seen it coming. He knew Puck was in the house; he’d heard
that voice outside his door as Puck followed Finn to his room, and Kurt had
wandered near enough to Finn’s door to know that they were still in there
playing video games at 9:00. But it was a school night, so Kurt knew he
couldn’t stay much longer. 10:00 at the latest, and then it would be safe to
come out of his room again.
Kurt might even stop in Finn’s room, maybe bring him some warm milk and just
ask how everybody was doing, see if Puck had made any progress with Lauren,
maybe. He was only asking as a friend, after all, because he’d transferred,
sure, but that didn’t mean he’d stopped caring what happened to his friends.
But Puck was still there when Kurt stopped in Finn’s doorway at 10:15, and when
he looked up from whatever he was killing on Finn’s television, he didn’t look
as though he was in a hurry to go anywhere.
“Oh,” Kurt said, dragging his gaze away from Puck to glance at Finn, “I didn’t
realize you still had company.”
“Yeah, Puck’s crashing here tonight,” Finn said. “We’re not keeping you awake
with the game, are we?”
“No, it’s fine,” Kurt answered, stealing another glance at Puck, but he was
scowling at the screen once again. “I’ll just leave you to it.”
He told himself it didn’t matter that Puck was staying the night. He was
staying with Finn, for one thing, and it wasn’t as though he was just going to
wander into Kurt’s room in the middle of the night. Except that was exactly
what he did, and when Kurt found himself being shaken awake sometime after
midnight, he wasn’t even all that surprised.
“Kurt,” Puck said, hand on Kurt’s shoulder and shaking almost gently. “Hey.”
Kurt murmured something vaguely coherent and turned over, blinking up at the
Puck-shaped shadow on the edge of his bed. “What are you doing? My dad…”
“Relax,” Puck said, and Kurt wanted to laugh, because he made it sound so easy.
“I just wanted to say that I was sorry. I didn’t meant to freak you out on
Saturday. I should have figured it would be a big deal for you, the first
time.”
“How do you know it was my first time?”
“Dude, you hired me to teach you how to kiss,” Puck said, and Kurt blushed and
smiled in spite of himself.
“Okay, so there’s that.” Kurt pushed himself into a sitting position, the
covers falling around his waist as he drew up his knees and looked at Puck.
“Anyway, it’s fine. I mean, you didn’t freak me out. We got a little carried
away, certainly, but no harm done, right?”
“I guess.” Puck turned on the bed until he was facing Kurt, one leg bent and
his other foot still planted on the floor. He was wearing a white undershirt
and a pair of sweatpants, and Kurt’s gaze drifted south before he caught
himself and looked up again. When he did Puck was watching him, a smirk tugging
at the corners of his mouth and Kurt would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t
too busy dying of humiliation.
“So about that whole kissing thing, you want to get in a little more practice?
It’s on the house.”
“What, you’re providing public services now?” Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow
when Puck planted a hand on the mattress next to his hip.
“Something like that,” Puck said, then his hand was on Kurt’s hip, dragging him
back down the mattress until he was flat on his back.
Kurt gasped when he hit the mattress, and Puck huffed a laugh and climbed over
him. He dragged the covers down to the end of the bed, then he pushed Kurt’s
legs apart and stretched out until they were pressed together from their
foreheads to their calves. Kurt knew he should stop, that he should tell Puck
that this was a bad idea and he had to go back to Finn’s room.
He had to go back and forget they’d ever started this, because no matter how
confused Puck was, he wasn’t suddenly gay, and Kurt wasn’t suddenly in love
with him. He was in love with Blaine, he’d been in love with Blaine for months
and kissing Puck wasn’t helping him figure anything out.
Then Puck leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against his mouth, and Kurt forgot
why it was so important that they stop. He forgot about his father sleeping
just down the hall, forgot about the possibility of Finn waking up and
wondering where Puck had gone. He forgot everything except the mouth moving
against his skin, pressing kisses to his cheek, then his jaw, and down his
neck. Puck’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on his pajamas, finally managing
to tug the top two open and pushing the fabric aside to suck at the spot where
Kurt’s neck met his shoulder.
He let out a sound that sounded an awful lot like a whine and arched up into
the sensation, hand on the back of Puck’s head and stroking along his
ridiculous mohawk. Puck shuddered and pushed back into his touch, and Kurt
smiled and ducked his head to catch Puck’s mouth against his own.
Puck’s hands slid down his sides to push up under his pajamas, flattening
against bare skin and Kurt sighed into the kiss and didn’t let himself wonder
why Puck was doing this. He didn’t care, not when Puck was rocking against him
and stroking strong hands across his chest and his sides. Kurt thrust up
against Puck, dragging a moan out of him that sent shivers all the way to
Kurt’s toes.
He hooked one leg around Puck’s thigh, bare foot digging into cheap fleece and
dragging Puck even closer. And that felt great – that felt amazing – a hundred
times better than Kurt had ever expected it to. Even through two layers of
cotton it was better than he imagined, and he didn’t bother trying to tell
himself the lie that it didn’t have anything to do with Puck.
It had everything to do with Puck, and now Kurt knew that he was a fool to
think he could do this with Puck and not fall stupidly, hopelessly in love with
him. He’d never had a chance, just like he’d never had a chance of Puck
returning his feelings. So he got this one night, one night and they were both
still wearing all their clothes, and when he woke up tomorrow he’d have to
start working on getting over it.
Kurt’s hands landed on Puck’s back, shoving his undershirt up over his
shoulders. He took the hint and pushed up off Kurt long enough to yank it over
his head, and when Kurt reached up and ran a hand down that solid chest, Puck
grinned and tugged the leg that was wrapped around him up over his hip.
Kurt gasped at the sudden shift in sensation, eyes wide and he could only
imagine how he looked, but it didn’t matter, because Puck was leaning in to
kiss him again. His mouth was on Kurt’s neck, hips moving faster and it was
good, it was great, but it still wasn’t enough. It was never going to be
enough, no matter how tightly Kurt held on.
“Come on, baby,” Puck murmured against his neck, and Kurt wanted to laugh,
because it was so cheesy and so exactly the kind of thing Puck would say. But
his laugh came out as a choked sort of moan, and then he was coming, arching up
and gasping his way through his orgasm, and Puck swallowed every sound with a
hard kiss.
His was still kissing Kurt when he finally relaxed again, kissing his lips and
his cheeks and his eyes and even his forehead. He was still rocking against
Kurt, still hard and if this was all he got, Kurt wasn’t going to waste it.
He dropped his leg from around Puck’s waist and shoved a hand between them,
under Puck’s sweatpants to discover that he was indeed going commando. That was
no surprise, and in a way it was kind of a turn-on. Kurt filed the thought away
for later and curled his hand around Puck’s dick, taking a minute to get used
to the strange angle that went along with doing this for someone else for the
first time.
Puck’s hands were braced against the mattress, hips still moving minutely as he
thrust into Kurt’s fist. He was watching Kurt, pupils blown wide and at least
Kurt knew he was actually enjoying this. Maybe Kurt wouldn’t be his first
choice, but he was going to make damn sure Puck didn’t have any complaints
about what may very well be his only experience with another boy.
It took a couple minutes to find a rhythm, but eventually Kurt worked it out,
thumb sliding across the head of Puck’s cock with each stroke and dragging a
little moan out of him. And listening was nice, but if this was his only shot,
he wanted to see. He let go of Puck long enough to shove his sweatpants down
his hips, one hand sliding across his ass in the process and Puck grunted and
thrust forward at the touch.
That was…interesting, but Kurt didn’t dwell on it. Instead he pushed Puck onto
his side and reached for him again, wrapping his hand around Puck’s dick and
stroking hard. Puck’s hand landed in Kurt’s hair, dragging him forward and
kissing him, tongue thrusting in and out of Kurt’s mouth in time with his dick.
Puck’s other hand gripped Kurt’s hip hard enough to hurt, and he knew he was
going to have a bruise there in the morning. But he wanted it, wanted the
reminder that this had actually happened and it wasn’t all a crazy dream. Puck
moaned into his mouth, thrusting even harder into Kurt’s grip, and he picked up
the speed, wrist aching from the angle but determined to get Puck off, to make
it as good as he could manage.
Then Puck whispered his name, mouth open and breathing Kurt’s air as he thrust
forward one more time and came in Kurt’s hand. He kept stroking through Puck’s
orgasm, grip loose now and just watching as Puck panted his way through wave
after wave of pleasure. When he finally rolled onto his back Kurt lifted slick
fingers to his mouth, considering for a moment before he shrugged and stuck his
tongue out to lick one.
It wasn’t all that different from the taste of his own come; still a little
salty and a little bitter, with that same kind of gross texture that Kurt
wasn’t sure he’d ever really get used to. But it wasn’t awful, and when he
looked up to find Puck watching him he decided it was worth it.
As soon as he pulled his hand away from his mouth Puck was moving, pushing him
back onto the mattress and kissing him hard, and that was a surprise, but Kurt
wasn’t complaining. He parted his lips to let Puck in, let him taste himself on
Kurt’s tongue before he pulled back to press their foreheads together.
“I don’t think you need any more lessons, babe,” Puck said, and when Kurt’s
heart skipped at the endearment, he clamped down hard on the sensation and
reminded himself it didn’t mean anything. It was just one of those things
people said, and knowing Puck he probably figured that was the kind of thing
Kurt wanted to hear.
“No, I suppose not,” Kurt answered, doing his best to keep the sadness out of
his voice. He knew this was coming; this was what he’d told himself he wanted,
before Puck showed up in the middle of the night and caught him off guard.
“It’s been very educational. Thank you.”
Puck laughed and let go of him, then he sat up and Kurt braced himself for the
moment when Puck left. But he didn’t get out of bed; instead he pulled his
sweatpants back on, then he reached for the covers and pulled them over both of
them. He settled back onto the mattress next to Kurt, and Kurt knew he should
make Puck leave, because if his father found Puck in his room it would be even
harder to explain than Blaine spending the night.
But when an arm slid around his waist Kurt couldn’t bring himself to do it;
instead he found himself turning into Puck, curling into his warmth and running
a hand over his bare chest.
“Get some sleep, Kurt,” Puck said, and when Kurt felt a pair of lips brush
across his temple he let himself believe it, just for the night.
~
Puck was gone when he woke up. It was for the best and Kurt knew it, but that
didn’t make waking up alone feel any less…lonely. Falling in love with Noah
Puckerman definitely hadn’t been part of his plan, but it had happened and now
he just had to get on with getting over it.
He was getting pretty good at that, at least. He’d certainly had plenty of
experience with unrequited love by now, and he knew he’d survive.
He dragged himself through the rest of the week, going through the motions
without really paying attention to what was happening around him. If Mercedes
were here he’d at least have a shoulder to cry on, even if he had to lie and
tell her he was moping about Blaine. She’d let him lie, then she’d let him put
his head on her shoulder and she’d pet him until it was time to tell him to put
on his big girl pants and get over himself.
He’d always been able to count on Mercedes for that sort of thing, and he
missed seeing her every day. He missed having someone by his side he could
really count on; it wasn’t the same with Blaine, even when they weren’t doing
this weird thing they were doing. Because Blaine was his friend, sure, but
there was the whole weird sexual tension thing hanging between them all the
time.
Maybe if Blaine would just decide once and for all what he wanted, it would
work itself out. They’d probably be better friends for it, even, if Kurt could
just get him to say what it was he wanted, exactly. Even if it was that he
wanted Kurt to forget about the possibility of them; Kurt didn’t even think it
would be that hard, at least not anymore.
He was still brooding on Friday when he got home, so he didn’t hear the
doorbell ring until Finn shouted up the stairs for him. Kurt told himself it
wasn’t Puck, because Puck wouldn’t come to the door asking Finn if Kurt was
home, for one thing. Kurt sighed and pulled his bedroom door open, then he
headed down the stairs to find Blaine standing in the foyer.
“Hey,” Blaine said, and Kurt managed what he hoped was a passable smile.
“Hello, Blaine. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I’ve been a little worried about you, actually,” Blaine said, then he glanced
in the direction Kurt assumed Finn had disappeared. He stopped just short of
rolling his eyes, then he gestured for Blaine to follow him and headed up the
stairs to his room. When they were safely in his room Kurt closed the door,
then he sat down at his desk and watched Blaine take a seat on the edge of his
bed.
“Much as I appreciate your concern, I’m fine,” Kurt said, shrugging when Blaine
raised an eyebrow. “I will be, at any rate.”
He didn’t want to talk about this, not with Blaine and not with anyone, really.
What he wanted…what he wanted was to wallow, to replay every moment over and
over, knowing that for all he made up parts of it in his head, some of it had
been real. The week and a half he’d had with Puck had been more real than any
other relationship he’d had to date, and if that was pathetic…well, it wouldn’t
be the first time.
“Kurt, come on, we’re friends.”
“You’re right, Blaine, we’re friends,” Kurt said.
Which was how all this started, because Kurt was tired of being just Blaine’s
friend. He’d been tired of standing on the sidelines watching Blaine flirt with
the entire world, make a fool of himself over retail employees and hags-in-
training alike, and never once looking in Kurt’s direction, even when Kurt
practically engraved him an invitation. He’d gotten himself into this mess
trying to find out what Blaine wanted, once and for all, and if he didn’t go
through with it now, maybe he never would.
For a second he stared down at his hands, wondering if he could actually go
through with it. But he had to, didn’t he? If he ever wanted to know one way or
the other, he had to make Blaine tell him the truth. He knew Blaine didn’t want
him; if he had he would have done something about it when Kurt told Blaine how
he felt. But if Kurt kissed him and Blaine decided that maybe he did want to
give it a try, it might be distracting enough to help him forget about Puck.
“So talk to me,” Blaine said, and Kurt flinched and looked up at the sound of
his voice.
“I’m sorry,” Kurt said, and he was, because he knew this was going to change
everything. “I just need to know.”
“Know what?”
Kurt stood up and crossed the room, stopping at the end of his bed. Blaine
looked up at him, mouth frozen in a weird half smile and a look in his eyes
that told Kurt he could guess what was coming, and he was terrified. In a way
it make Kurt feel a little better, knowing how afraid Blaine was of anything
that might be real. He could sympathize, certainly, but now that he knew how
good real could feel, he couldn’t regret what had happened with Puck.
“This,” he said, then he slid a hand under Blaine’s chin and tilted his face
up. Kurt leaned in, stopping just short of kissing him, lips so close he could
feel Blaine’s breath. All he had to do was press up, just a little bit, and
they’d be kissing. Kurt had done everything else, and all he had to do was take
that final step. Only that last step never came, and a second later Kurt let go
of him and took a step backwards.
“Kurt…”
“Don’t,” Kurt said, shaking his head and backing toward his bedroom door. “It’s
okay, Blaine. I just wanted to know, one way or the other.”
“Look, Kurt,” Blaine said, and Kurt could tell without looking that he was
standing up. “I told you, I don’t know what I’m doing here. It’s not you, I
just don’t want to mess things up.”
“It’s really okay,” Kurt said. He pulled the door open, then he turned to look
at Blaine. “The funny thing is that I thought I couldn’t have what I wanted.
And then I did have it, for awhile, and I have you to thank. That’s better than
not having anything at all, right?”
“I don’t get it.”
“Someday you will.” Kurt smiled for real this time, and when Blaine’s forehead
furrowed in a puzzled frown, Kurt laughed. “Go home, Blaine. I’ll see you on
Monday.”
“You’re sure you’re okay.”
“Go,” Kurt said, then he put a hand on Blaine’s shoulder and shoved him toward
the stairs. He was still laughing when he heard someone running up the stairs
past Blaine, and when Kurt recognized Puck’s voice sort of grunting at Blaine
on his way past, his heart skipped a beat. He reached for his door, but before
he could close it Puck was standing in the hallway in front of him, looking
back over his shoulder toward the stairs.
“What was he doing here?”
“Leaving,” Kurt said, frowning at the anger in Puck’s voice. “What’s wrong with
you?”
Puck shrugged, then he pushed past Kurt into his room and Kurt frowned even
harder. He followed Puck inside and closed the door, watching Puck pace for a
few seconds before he spoke again.
“Seriously, Puck, what’s the problem?”
“You’re not still trying to get with the Hobbit, are you?” Puck asked, turning
to look at him and for a second Kurt could almost believe he was jealous.
“No,” Kurt said, and at least that much was the truth. “I suppose I have you to
thank for that, actually. Your lessons came in quite handy.”
“So you did put the moves on him.”
“Honestly, what have we been working toward for the past two weeks?” Kurt said,
but suddenly he wasn’t so sure.
“How?”
“What do you mean, how?”
“How?” Puck asked, practically grinding the word out, and Kurt took an
involuntary step backwards. “Like, were you in your car or at school or what? I
showed you like five different moves, dude, which one did you go with?”
“Oh. Something a little different than what you showed me.”
“You threw out the play book? What the hell did you do that for?”
“That’s just the way it worked out.” Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and
tried not to remember the way it felt when Puck kissed him. The way it felt
when Puck slid an arm around him and fell asleep next to him, and Kurt
shouldn’t even know how that felt, but now that he did he knew he’d never
forget. “I did it, and now you’re off the hook. Why do you care how I did it?”
“Show me.”
“What?”
“Show me,” Puck repeated, carefully, like he wanted to make sure Kurt
understood. “I want to see this move you came up with all on your own.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Fucking right I’m serious. So where’d it go down? Was it right here? Jesus,
was I in the house when you made your move?”
“Puck, this is ridiculous,” Kurt said, gripping his elbows a little tighter so
Puck wouldn’t see that his hands were shaking. “Look, I appreciate everything
you’ve done. You’ve been amazing, honestly. But you can have your life back
now. Go spend your time wooing Lauren. If you want advice on gifts just send me
a text, I’d be happy to help.”
“Would you forget about Lauren?” Puck said. “Now get your ass over here and
show me what you did with him.”
He thought about telling Puck the truth. The truth that Puck had nothing to be
jealous about, if he was jealous, for some bizarre reason. Because Blaine
hadn’t even kissed him back, and there wasn’t anything to show. But Puck was
asking Kurt to kiss him again, and he’d assumed he wasn’t going to get another
chance. So no one would blame him for taking this one last opportunity, not
when Puck was practically demanding it.
“Fine, if it’s that important to you. Sit down.”
Puck frowned, but he sat down on the edge of the bed, legs planted wide apart
and watching Kurt. He took a deep breath and stepped between Puck’s knees, then
he reached down and placed one finger under Puck’s chin to tilt his head up. He
leaned in, pausing just a breath away from Puck, eyes wide open to watch Puck
watching him. Then Puck shifted forward and pressed their lips together, and
Kurt swallowed hard against a sudden tightness in his throat and broke the
kiss.
“There, are you happy?” Kurt asked, and he knew how miserable he sounded, but
he couldn’t make himself care.
“Not really,” Puck said. Kurt started to pull away, but before he could move, a
hand landed on his hip to hold him in place. “So then what?”
“Then nothing.” Kurt shrugged and didn’t quite meet Puck’s gaze while he lied.
“It was nice enough, I suppose. It just wasn’t what I’d hoped for.”
“I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“I knew I was going to ruin you for every other dude," Puck said, and he
sounded so pleased with himself that Kurt couldn't help stealing a glance at
him. Sure enough, Puck was grinning, and Kurt's stomach twisted into a tight
knot. "I was kind of hoping being in love with the guy or whatever would get
you past the fact that he can’t kiss like I can, but once you’ve had a taste of
Puckzilla, it’s hard to move on.”
“Rachel seemed to do fine moving on with Finn. And Jesse St. James, if I’m not
mistaken. She claimed to love both of them, didn’t she?” Kurt didn’t miss the
way Puck flinched at the mention of Finn's name, but he didn't care. He wanted
to hurt Puck, just so he'd know a little bit of what Kurt felt like. “So maybe
I’m not in love with Blaine after all; in a way I suppose I should thank you
for helping me figure it out. In fact, that’s probably worth another twenty
dollars.”
He pulled away from Puck with an effort and reached for his wallet, back to
Puck while he pulled out two crisp twenties. “Here. I still owe you from the
last time too.”
For a second Puck just stared at him, then he stood up and pulled out his own
wallet. Kurt told himself he wasn’t surprised that Puck was willing to take the
money; he’d known all along that this was a business deal, nothing more. And it
was worth a hundred dollars to know the truth, even if no one had ended up
getting what they wanted.
Puck opened his wallet, but he didn’t take the money Kurt held out to him.
Instead he reached in and pulled two twenties out, then he reached around Kurt
to drop them on his desk. “Keep it. I don’t want it.”
Kurt wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that, but finally he sighed and
dropped the money on top of the twenties on the desk. He looked up at Puck, a
sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You know, as grand gestures go,
yours is about twenty dollars short.”
“Yeah, I spent the first twenty on cupcake ingredients,” Puck said, shrugging
and shoving his wallet back in his pocket. “I’ll have to owe you.”
Kurt shook his head and didn’t bother to point out that Puck didn’t owe him
anything. He didn’t want to believe that Puck’s grand gesture meant what he
thought it might, but it was hard not to hope when Puck was smiling right back
at him.
“I thought you were using that money to romance Lauren Zizes.”
“She’s cool and all,” Puck said, taking a step forward, “but the weird thing
is, I’d rather make out with you.”
“Because I didn’t make you take it slow?” Kurt asked, arching his eyebrows, but
he didn’t step out of Puck’s reach.
“No, I mean, that’s a plus, don’t get me wrong,” Puck answered, grinning when
Kurt laughed. “I just...like you. You’re cool and you let me drive your car,
and you’re kind of bossy and you do this thing with your tongue that’s totally
hot. And you think I’m good at kissing, which was starting to give me a
complex, if you want to know the truth.”
“Who said you weren’t a good kisser?” Kurt asked, forehead wrinkling in a frown
that was bound to do permanent damage, but he was too distracted by the thought
of someone complaining about the way Puck kissed to notice.
“Lauren.” Puck shrugged and looked down, and until that moment Kurt had no idea
that Lauren Zizes was actually insane, but now he had verifiable proof. “I
mean, she kind of caught me by surprise anyway, and it was only that one time,
so it wasn’t like I was at the top of my game.”
“Puck,” Kurt interrupted, the corners of his mouth twitching with the effort
not to laugh, because this entire situation was ridiculous, but the fact that
Kurt was reassuring Puck of his sexual prowess had to be the weirdest part of
all of it. “Maybe you and Lauren just aren’t physically compatible. It’s not
the end of the world.”
The fact that Puck seemed to be physically compatible with Kurt was even more
crazy than the idea that someone might have a complaint about the way Puck
kissed, but Kurt didn’t dwell on it. Maybe Blaine had a small point about this
whole ‘bisexuality’ concept. Maybe Puck just hadn’t had a chance to truly
discover himself. Whatever the reason, he seemed to want Kurt, and for once in
his life Kurt wasn’t going to question why.
“After that night in your car it got kind of hard to remember that I was
supposed to be putting the moves on her anyway.” Puck took another step
forward, then his hands landed on Kurt’s waist to pull him closer. “I was going
kind of crazy thinking about you and the Hobbit all the time.”
“I didn’t kiss him. I started to, just to see if it would feel anything at all
like kissing you.”
“Why? I mean, why not go right to the source?”
“You said I didn’t need any more lessons. I thought that meant you didn’t want
to do this anymore.” He paused, lip caught between his teeth and staring at a
point in the center of Puck’s chest. Then he took a deep breath and forced
himself to meet Puck’s gaze. “It happened exactly the way I showed you. Only he
didn’t kiss me back.”
“He left you hanging? Really?”
Kurt nodded, lips pressed hard together and cheeks burning, and seriously, this
much humiliation couldn’t be good for a person.
Puck backed up until he reached the bed, dragging Kurt with him. Then he sat
down hard on the edge of the mattress and pulled Kurt back between his knees,
hands on the backs of Kurt’s thighs to hold him in place. “Do you want me to
mess up his face for you? Just a little?”
Kurt laughed, then he shook his head and rested a hand on Puck’s cheek. “That
won’t be necessary. It wasn’t him I wanted to be kissing anyway.”
“Good,” Puck said, and when Kurt leaned in, Puck met him halfway.
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