Alex In the City by BymagaJones 6/16 : One Step Forward
Chapter 5: Puck Paves the Way
Chapter 6: One Step Forward…
Puck was actually having fun. When he’d gone to Momma Cass for help, his goal had just been to figure out a way to get Alex to stop running away. He hadn’t expected to spend some quality time with his old glee mate.
Momma Cass’ first word of advice had been to start thinking of Kurt as Alex, both in word and in mind. Maybe one day in the future he might want to reclaim his original name, but it had to be his choice, and any attempt to force him to do anything would make him at best dig in his heels, and at worse disappear. Her second suggestion was for Puck to focus on himself, not ask questions that might make Alex feel like he was being put under a microscope. Her third and final tip was that Puck leave space for Alex to feel comfortable enough to talk about himself if he so wanted.
So, Puck did what he did best; he talked about himself. He made jokes, filed away what nuggets of information Alex shared with him, and was thankful for the time. Sure, Alex didn’t say much, but he showed glimmers of the old Hummel in the roll of his eyes and the small smiles he’d toss Puck’s way.
Grabbing all of the blankets had taken longer than Puck had anticipated - although he had to admit that he’d stopped rushing through the task once Alex joined him - and all of the tables were now filled with people enjoying a Thanksgiving meal. The line for the next wave of people was heading out the door, and Puck could see Momma Cass’ sons occupied with each of their tasks. He’d missed out on all of this the day before, since they’d run into Alex before all this started, and they’d been upstairs trying to wrap their minds around finding their friend. But today he stood back and watched the brothers work like a well-oiled machine.
Marcel handled the door, taking weapons and frisking those he felt needed the extra assistance. One of the other brothers - Marcus? Malachi? He didn’t know them well enough to tell them apart - was making space as the eaters began to rise and gestured toward the other brother at the door, who would point them toward the vacated areas. Puck wondered how many years they’d been doing this together.
Handing three blankets to a small family leaving, Puck looked over at Alex. “So I hear you have your own place? Congratulations, man.”
Alex’s ears turned red, small smile on his face. It was obvious he was proud, and Puck couldn’t imagine how hard it probably had been for him to save up enough money. After skimming some of Momma Cass’ books upstairs and talking to her a little more about it, he had a better idea of the difficulties facing homeless teens in New York.
“I have keys.” It was said so quietly that Puck almost missed it in the cacophony of excited voices in the dining room.
“How many? I swear, I’ve never seen so many locks on doors. We have three locks on ours, two that need keys and one that locks from the inside. I keep worrying that one day Mercedes will use that inside lock when I’m trying to come home after a gig, and I’ll be stuck outside in the cold.”
“You could always call her.”
“Naw, if she used that lock, she’s pissed at me. There’s no way my butt’s getting back in until I’ve wooed myself back into her good graces.” He tossed another grin toward Alex and was happy to find a small one being directed back toward him. He’d noticed that Alex hadn’t answered his initial question, but his goal was to make Alex comfortable hanging out with him. As Momma Cass reminded him, this whole thing was a race, not a sprint, and one thing - one more thing - Puck had learned about himself was that when properly motivated, he could dig up sufficient amounts of patience.
“You said you work at a bookstore?”
Puck nodded, trying not to make a big deal over the fact that Alex was actually asking another question without any kind of prompting. “Yeah, it’s an independent used bookstore. They’re awesome. They have a small café, sell some used DVD’s and CD’s, and we have events there too. It’s pretty cool. They also provide benefits for their fulltime employees, which has been really helpful. Mom’s been able to take me off her insurance, so she gets more in her take-home pay now. And between the bookstore and my gigs, I’ve been able to become completely self-sufficient, which is a nice change.”
After a few minutes of silently handing out blankets and receiving some soft thank you’s along the way from people never looking him in the eye, Puck heard Alex offer up another tidbit into his life. “I also work at a restaurant. Washing dishes.”
Puck frowned. “They don’t have one of those industrial dishwashers?”
“They do. Me.”
Barking out a surprised laugh, Puck turned to find Alex grinning at him.
“There you are! I haven’t seen you in so long, I thought you’d run away.” Mercedes walked up to him, smile on her face and hands on her hips. It took her a few seconds to realize that Alex was beside him. “Oh!” Her smile became uncertain. “Hey, K - ”
“Alex,” Puck muttered underneath his breath.
“Alex. Hey, Alex.”
His eyes once again lowered, Alex nodded and handed out a few blankets.
“Alex and I’ve been handing out blankets as people leave,” Puck volunteered. “What do they have you doing?”
She sighed, her epic cleavage taking Puck’s focus so he missed the first part of what she said. ”- and then they had me washing pots and pans!”
“That totally blows.”
“Look at my hands! Look at them!” She held them out for his inspection. She’d made him look at her hands so many times after trips to the spa that he knew her nails weren’t supposed to look so scraggly, the paint chipping, the skin dry and ashy.
“I’m sure Momma Cass has some lotion you can use to get rid of the ash,” he offered. “And a trip to your nail place will take care of the rest of it.” A glance toward Alex showed that he obviously wanted to say something but was holding himself back.
“But in the meantime, I’ll have to go around looking like this!”
“Look at it this way; you’re building up good karma points.”
Mercedes laughed and bumped his shoulder. “Good point.”
Puck looked over toward Alex only to find an empty space. “Where’d he go?”
Shoulders slumping, Mercedes looked at him. “I ran him off, didn’t I?”
Puck handed out a few blankets and took a moment to put his arm around his friend. “He’s just going to need some time to get used to having people in his life again, and we’re not going anywhere.” He hoped he’d made a good start.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Puck rolled over on Sunday afternoon, yawning as he climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom, barely acknowledging the squeals he heard on his way.
“Puck, what have I said about walking around the apartment naked?” Mercedes chastised him.
“Girl, if I were you, I’d stop yelling and take some pictures,” another female voice said.
“Monique’s taking care of that already,” a third female voice muttered.
Puck had to turn at that and grin at the five lovely African American women sitting around the coffee table in the living room. “Ladies,” he said, his voice still gravely from sleep.
“Hel-lo,” one woman whispered, while another continued to take pictures with her phone.
Sparing them one last glance, Puck sauntered into the bathroom, smile still on his face once he was alone. He knew he looked good. He’d even joined a gym to take the place of the regular football and baseball workouts he’d had during high school. Every so often, he’d pickup a basketball game here and there as well. So he figured there was nothing wrong with appreciating what you had, especially if you had to work hard to maintain it. He put in the effort; he deserved the reward.
He took a quick shower, leaving the bathroom steaming, and sauntered out in his towel.
“You can stop flexing; the ladies are gone,” Mercedes said dryly from the island in the kitchen.
Puck laughed, rubbing his second towel over his hair. “Their loss.”
“I’m sure they would’ve stayed if they’d known there was going to be a second show.”
“It’s always a roundtrip from the bathroom,” he pointed out.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll make sure that we have more study sessions here in the - ” she looked at her watch. “ - early afternoon.” Picking up a pan, she added. “Want some lunch?”
“Actually, how about we eat out for brunch?” He asked.
“Sure,” she said, happily returning the pan to the cabinet. “Where do you want to go?”
“I have a craving for Spanish food.”
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Most people thought of washing dishes at a restaurant as a terrible job, but Alex found it relaxing. His rough hands, long used to the heat of the water and the chemicals in the detergents, did their job automatically, and he could let his mind wander.
The past few years, he’d learned how to make his mind blank, let it wander through colors and scenes in his mind, travel to other places, real and imagined. He listened to music in his head, soothing instrumentals containing dramatic flair.
He thought of his mind as a ribbon, floating on the air, drifting in whatever direction the wind took him, and he liked the idea that he was dependent on something else by choice, not by fortune.
In all of these wanderings, he was always alone. Never lonely, but always alone.
Today, though, for the first time, he felt the lack of company like a missing phantom limb, not there but feeling like it should be. It worried and confused him, but he didn’t like introspection; it was another dangerous path to take.
He washed dishes, very much in the world this time, trying to let the loud music and Spanish mostly yelled by Iago, the chef, to the others wash over him, trying to deny the sudden urge for more.
He wasn’t sure how long it took to get his attention, but he realized that Alban, one of the waiters was talking to him, telling him that he had a visitor.
All conversation in the kitchen ceased. While he was polite and worked hard, Alex kept to himself. He never received any calls or had people picking him up or dropping him off. It was unheard of for someone to come visit him, so naturally everyone was curious.
The only people who knew where he worked were Alejandro, Momma Cass, and her boys, and Alex couldn’t see any one of them visiting him here. He peeked out of the swinging doors and saw Puck looking expectantly in his direction, grinning when he spotted Alex. The person facing him turned, and he saw Mercedes’ delighted smile.
Closing the door quickly, he closed his eyes. He was breathing hard and wanted nothing better than to run away again, but he knew that they’d just come back. They couldn’t stay the night here like they did at Momma Cass’, but they’d end up becoming regulars just to spite him. Mercedes would tell everyone about Kurt, and Puck would end up dating all of the cute waitresses - actually, after Puck’s revelation, he’d probably end up dating all of the cute waitresses and waiters.
Opening his eyes, he took a deep breath and noticed everyone in the kitchen staring at him. Offering a general, lame smile, he took one more breath and pushed out of the door, walking over to the table, where he stood awkwardly, unsure of what was expected of him.
“Hey,” Puck said as if they’d just chatted earlier that day.
“Hey,” Alex repeated.
“So what’s good here?”
Alex had expected all sorts of comments and questions, but that one caught him by surprise. “Umm, everything, actually. Iago is a really good chef.”
Puck looked at Mercedes. “Why don’t we just order a whole bunch of things, get them to go, and eat them back at the apartment?”
Mercedes nodded. “That sounds good.”
They both looked at Alex, who wasn’t sure what they expected of him. He’d already told them that everything was good; what else was he supposed to do?
“You get off soon, right?” Puck asked in the tone of a man who already knew the answer.
“Umm…”
“Yes, sir, he does,” Alban said with a smile.
“Great! You can come with us and help us eat it all.”
Alex started to feel a little pressured, like when he’d get cornered in the street and knew that he was going to have to fight his way out. Only this time, he couldn’t pull out his shiv and cut someone.
He much preferred his chances on the street.
Uncomfortable, he retreated back into the kitchen, keeping his focus on the sink. He couldn’t bear to think of the speculation, the conversations going on in the kitchen, all about him. He just wanted to immerse his hands into the hot, soapy water and let his mind fly again.
“Alex!” Iago rarely even looked at him, had never spoken to him, and Alex found that it worked out well for both parties involved. But now their run had come to an end, Alex thought sadly as he turned and stared at the chef’s right ear. “Go home.”
Startled, Alex briefly glanced at Chef’s face to be certain he’d heard correctly. “Chef?”
“Go home. You always take over for everyone else. It’s now your turn. Go and eat with your friends. We will prepare the best, and maybe they tell their friends.” Chef’s heavy accent didn’t hide his kind tone, and Alex felt himself get a little emotional. Chef was never nice, never concerned. And now, suddenly, he was being nice to the dishwasher?
Pushing back tears he didn’t understand, Alex nodded and took off the apron he’d wrapped around himself and grabbed his bag.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Mercedes was worried. And a little tired. As a performer, she was used to expressing many emotions within a small amount of time, but those same emotions in real life were exhausting. She’d been happy to go out to lunch with Puck, although she couldn’t understand why, with all of the restaurant choices, Puck would want to go to a Latin American restaurant in Queens. Once they sat down, and Puck asked after Alex, she understood. Leaning across the table, she whispered, “Do you really think this is a good idea?”
Puck, as always, seemed calm and assured. “It’ll be fine.”
“He doesn’t do well when he feels he’s being cornered. He might run.”
“I’ve been working out; I’ll catch him.”
Mercedes rolled her eyes at his smirk. “Look, I know you two hit it off the other day, but for some reason, I still scare him.” She tried not to show her fear as she tried to make Puck understand. “I can’t stand the look he gets when he sees me, like I’m…” she cast around for the right word, “like I’m trying to hurt him or something.”
“He’s never gonna get over it if you two don’t start spending some time together.” Puck leaned forward too, his face close to Mercedes as he whispered, “I know that this is a big step for all of us, especially him, but I gotta tell ya’,” he sat back, smirk back on his face, “I don’t do small ones.” His smirk turned into a full grin as he looked behind her, and Mercedes knew he must be looking at Alex.
Mercedes didn’t say much as Puck decided to order a butt load of food to go, and she tried to look as unthreatening as she could. She figured she’d done okay, considering Alex hadn’t even looked at her once. Of course, he never seemed to look anyone in the eyes nowadays either, so she wasn’t sure if it meant anything. One of the waiters stepped up to say that his shift was almost over, and she saw him get that trapped look in his eyes, the way he did when he first saw them, and she was sure he was going to run. He did seem to step quickly back into the kitchen, but the smile from the waiter encouraged her. She still looked over at Puck and asked, only half joking, “Think one of us should go to the back to make sure he doesn’t run?”
For the first time that day, Puck looked a little unsure. “We’re already pushing him as it is. If we go further, we’re going to lose him.”
She looked at Puck closely. They hadn’t really talked about the situation much since they’d left Aunt Momma’s, and she knew that that wasn’t like her. However, she was honest enough with herself to admit that she’d felt a little jealous at how easily Puck had managed to break thorough Alex’s defenses. However, instead of allowing that negativity to fester, she’d taken Marcel at his word and called him. He’d helped her turn it around, and she used it as incentive, as proof that getting into Alex’s life was possible. She almost smiled when she remembered the homework he’d given her, to practice saying “Alex” instead of “Kurt”, and it had actually helped. Now she was going to put it to the test, and she worried that she was going to ruin it all.
“Hey,” Puck said, taking one of her hands. “Someone’s gonna mess up. It’s bound to happen, and it’ll probably be me.” His lip quirked, and Mercedes had to grin. “We’re all just feeling our way along here, even Alex. It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
Feeling a presence behind her, Mercedes turned to find Alex standing there, hoodie on, his eyes on the floor. He still had that bag that he never seemed to take off, the strap stretching across his chest and emphasizing how tiny he’d become. He looked solid, just… small.
The waiter returned and placed three filled bags of food on the table, large smile on his face. “All of our best dishes. Alex will give you the names, okay?”
“Thanks,” Mercedes said, reaching for the wallet in her bag.
“I got it,” Puck said. “I’ll be right back.” He and the waiter walked to the register, leaving Mercedes alone with Alex for the first time.
“So,” Mercedes said, searching for something to say. “You like working here?”
Alex nodded.
“If the food tastes like it smells, I would’ve gained twenty pounds my first day.”
The small smile encouraged her.
“Puck and I live in Brooklyn, but we should probably catch a cab with all the bags here. That way, they might still be a little warm when we get to our place.” She saw the frantic eye movement and wondered if he were more worried about being in a cab with them or the thought that he’d have to pay his share of the ride. “It’s our treat since we’re kidnapping you.” She smiled at him. He didn’t really respond, so she said quietly, “I know we kind of threw this at you, so if you don’t want to come with us, you don’t have to.” No response. She stepped forward but made sure she wasn’t too close. “Alex, it’s your choice.”
His eyes snapped up to hers for a moment, and she saw the surprise there.
Before she could say anything else, she saw Puck returning.
“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing two of the bags.
Alex took the last bag, letting Mercedes know that he was planning on going with them. Alone at the table, she breathed a sigh of relief before following her boys out of the restaurant and into the cold.
Evidently, Puck had been busy. While he’d paid for the food, he’d managed to get the waiter to call a cousin of some sort who drove a gypsy cab. The man waited for them outside of the restaurant and pulled away from the curb without a single word. Puck sat in the front, leaving Mercedes and Alex in the back with the bags.
“These smell really good,” Mercedes called toward the front. “I think Alex and I are just gong to take a little taste.”
“Leave the bags alone, Aretha,” Puck warned without turning around.
“Just one…little…taste,” Mercedes teased.
“I will cut you,” Puck said calmly.
Automatically, Mercedes turned to Alex, who was smiling softly at the back of the driver’s seat, his hands loosely gripping his strap. She felt like she’d really accomplished something. He wasn’t as tense, and while he wasn’t joining in the teasing, he seemed to be having a little bit of fun. It was Alex’s version of Kurt’s hopping up and down and clapping his hands.
Mercedes and Puck kept up their routine until the cabbie pulled up in front of their building, Puck’s paying the man before helping with the bags. Mercedes made a mental note to find out how much Puck was paying out so she could pitch in her fair share.
“We’re on the fourth floor,” Mercedes told Alex apologetically.
“My room’s on the fifth,” Alex said.
Mercedes and Puck shared a warm glance, and she wanted to hug him; she could tell that he realized the same thing. This was the first comment Alex had made voluntarily, without a single prompt. She felt like celebrating.
The apartment was immaculate, thanks more to Mercedes than Puck or Thomas. She was glad she’d made the effort, although she wasn’t sure if Alex appreciated it all that much. She watched him look around briefly, then stand at the door as Puck walked into the kitchen. The urge to grab his arm and tug him into the kitchen felt so strong that it almost hurt to ignore it, but she remembered what she’d heard about how he reacted to people touching him and knew it would probably set back the progress they’d made so far that day. Instead, she tilted her head toward the kitchen. “You can put your bag here by the door if you want.”
Alex shook his head.
“Okay, well, you can follow Puck in the kitchen with the food.”
Alex nodded, walking into the kitchen where Puck was already taking containers out of the bags and placing them on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.
“We can set out everything here and then eat in the living room,” he explained.
“Since we don’t have a real kitchen or dining room, we tend to eat there,” Mercedes added, squeezing into the kitchen to grab plates, utensils, and napkins.
“Plus, the television’s in there.” Puck grinned at him. “We have the full premium package, which includes all of the movie and, more importantly, sports channels.”
Rolling her eyes, Mercedes said, “Do not get him started on that. You would think by the way he talks about it that he does nothing but watch sports, but he’s never even really here to appreciate it.”
“Hey, I watch it,” Puck countered. “It is just easier to do when you’re in class.” He leaned toward Alex conspiratorially. “When she’s not complaining about it, she’s sitting there asking stupid questions.”
“I asked you once - once! - who the cute quarterback was,” Mercedes said.
“Once was enough,” Puck grumbled.
“Please, like you didn't think he was cute too.”
Puck had nothing to say to that.
Laughing, Mercedes handed each man a plate. “Okay, Alex. Time to show us your expertise. What is all this?”
Alex stepped forward and pointed to each dish, explaining what it was called, the type of food included, how each dish was made. Mercedes hadn’t heard him say so much since before his father passed away. It was just facts said in a kind of deep monotone, but Mercedes was grateful for it just the same.
They all grabbed food and spread out in the living room. Puck sat in the recliner, which, Mercedes explained, was where he lived when he was home and not in his room. Mercedes took one side of the sofa, leaving the other one for Alex.
“We forgot the drinks,” Mercedes realized, putting her plate down on the coffee table.
“I got it,” Puck volunteered. “Alex, what do you want? We have soda, milk, juice, water, beer.”
Alex looked a little scared, and Mercedes wondered how long it had been since he’d been given choices. “Do you want to start with some water?” She asked gently.
Alex looked relieved. “Yes, please.”
“Water it is,” Puck said. “’retha?”
“Juice, please.”
Puck returned quickly with the drinks, and Mercedes bent her head down to pray. Puck had been around her enough to know that while she’d let him get away with avoiding it outside, she fully expected him to pray with her before a meal at home. She was so used to it that it didn’t occur to her to discuss it with Alex. “Thank you, God for this our blessings,” she started when she heard the scrape of metal on glass and opened her eyes to find Alex bent over his plate, shoveling food into his mouth faster than he should have been able to chew and swallow.
She looked over to Puck and saw that he was watching Alex with a sad, surprised expression on his face. Turning back to Alex, she realized that she had seen this kind of behavior before when they were questioning his friend Mace and as she watched quite a few homeless people eat in the two days they had volunteered with Aunt Momma. She had noticed that it was usually the people who came in alone who ate curled up over their plates, not the families or the people with friends. Just the loners, and it broke her heart a little to realize that her old friend had become one of those.
Shrugging, Puck started eating, and Mercedes followed suit. They ate in silence, Puck and Mercedes trying not to be obvious as they watched Alex scarf through his meal. After he finished, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and finally looked up. Mercedes watched him still and figured he had realized that she and Puck were not even halfway through their plates.
Trying to sound casual, she said, “Help yourself to seconds.”
It seemed to her that Alex wanted to go back for more, but he just shook his head. “No, thank you.” He tugged at his strap before raising his plate and utensils. “Where can I put these?”
“Just drop them in the sink,” Puck told him. “We'll rinse them off and throw them in the dishwasher later.” He picked up the remote. “Let’s see what movies are on.”
Alex headed to the kitchen, and Mercedes leaned toward Puck. “See if there are any musicals, like ‘Guys and Dolls’ or ‘Grease’.”
Puck did some fancy maneuvering with the remote, accessing the cable's search feature. “How about ‘Brigadoon’?”
“Perfect!” Mercedes leaned back just as Alex reentered the room and sat down. “Interested in a movie?”
Alex nodded a little too quickly, and Mercedes smothered a smile. He‘d probably been worried that he would have to sit there and talk with them until they had finished eating.
“So what is this ‘Brigadoon’ about?” Puck asked, hitting the mute. “We have about two minutes before it starts, so give me a quick breakdown. Is it some chick flick?”
“It’s about two Americans who are hunting in Scotland when they literally run into a village that only appears for one day every two hundred years.”
Puck blinked at Mercedes. “That sounds stupid and absolutely improbable. What else is on?” He picked up the remote.
“Cyd Charisse is in it,” Alex said. “She’s pretty hot.”
“What do you know about hot chicks?” Puck teased.
Alex shrugged and said, “Gene Kelly and Van Johnson are in it. They’re both pretty hot too.”
“A little something for everyone,” Mercedes pointed out.
“And a little everything for me,” Puck added.
“He’s become unbearable since he realized he’s bi,” Mercedes stage whispered to Alex.
“He was unbearable before he realized he was bi,” Alex pointed out. “Is it possible for him to become even more unbearable?”
This was quickly becoming a huge day of firsts, Mercedes realized. The first time she had really acknowledged Kurt as Alex, the first time Alex had come home with them, the first time they’d all eaten together, the first time Alex had referenced their past. She wasn’t the only one to notice this last one, at least, because the room became a little uncomfortable until Puck turned up the volume.
“Okay,” he said, “I’m going to try it. But there better be some skin.”
It was Mercedes’ turn to share a grin with Alex.
Chapter 7: …Two Steps Back?
Entry with links to each chapter
Chapter 6: One Step Forward…
Puck was actually having fun. When he’d gone to Momma Cass for help, his goal had just been to figure out a way to get Alex to stop running away. He hadn’t expected to spend some quality time with his old glee mate.
Momma Cass’ first word of advice had been to start thinking of Kurt as Alex, both in word and in mind. Maybe one day in the future he might want to reclaim his original name, but it had to be his choice, and any attempt to force him to do anything would make him at best dig in his heels, and at worse disappear. Her second suggestion was for Puck to focus on himself, not ask questions that might make Alex feel like he was being put under a microscope. Her third and final tip was that Puck leave space for Alex to feel comfortable enough to talk about himself if he so wanted.
So, Puck did what he did best; he talked about himself. He made jokes, filed away what nuggets of information Alex shared with him, and was thankful for the time. Sure, Alex didn’t say much, but he showed glimmers of the old Hummel in the roll of his eyes and the small smiles he’d toss Puck’s way.
Grabbing all of the blankets had taken longer than Puck had anticipated - although he had to admit that he’d stopped rushing through the task once Alex joined him - and all of the tables were now filled with people enjoying a Thanksgiving meal. The line for the next wave of people was heading out the door, and Puck could see Momma Cass’ sons occupied with each of their tasks. He’d missed out on all of this the day before, since they’d run into Alex before all this started, and they’d been upstairs trying to wrap their minds around finding their friend. But today he stood back and watched the brothers work like a well-oiled machine.
Marcel handled the door, taking weapons and frisking those he felt needed the extra assistance. One of the other brothers - Marcus? Malachi? He didn’t know them well enough to tell them apart - was making space as the eaters began to rise and gestured toward the other brother at the door, who would point them toward the vacated areas. Puck wondered how many years they’d been doing this together.
Handing three blankets to a small family leaving, Puck looked over at Alex. “So I hear you have your own place? Congratulations, man.”
Alex’s ears turned red, small smile on his face. It was obvious he was proud, and Puck couldn’t imagine how hard it probably had been for him to save up enough money. After skimming some of Momma Cass’ books upstairs and talking to her a little more about it, he had a better idea of the difficulties facing homeless teens in New York.
“I have keys.” It was said so quietly that Puck almost missed it in the cacophony of excited voices in the dining room.
“How many? I swear, I’ve never seen so many locks on doors. We have three locks on ours, two that need keys and one that locks from the inside. I keep worrying that one day Mercedes will use that inside lock when I’m trying to come home after a gig, and I’ll be stuck outside in the cold.”
“You could always call her.”
“Naw, if she used that lock, she’s pissed at me. There’s no way my butt’s getting back in until I’ve wooed myself back into her good graces.” He tossed another grin toward Alex and was happy to find a small one being directed back toward him. He’d noticed that Alex hadn’t answered his initial question, but his goal was to make Alex comfortable hanging out with him. As Momma Cass reminded him, this whole thing was a race, not a sprint, and one thing - one more thing - Puck had learned about himself was that when properly motivated, he could dig up sufficient amounts of patience.
“You said you work at a bookstore?”
Puck nodded, trying not to make a big deal over the fact that Alex was actually asking another question without any kind of prompting. “Yeah, it’s an independent used bookstore. They’re awesome. They have a small café, sell some used DVD’s and CD’s, and we have events there too. It’s pretty cool. They also provide benefits for their fulltime employees, which has been really helpful. Mom’s been able to take me off her insurance, so she gets more in her take-home pay now. And between the bookstore and my gigs, I’ve been able to become completely self-sufficient, which is a nice change.”
After a few minutes of silently handing out blankets and receiving some soft thank you’s along the way from people never looking him in the eye, Puck heard Alex offer up another tidbit into his life. “I also work at a restaurant. Washing dishes.”
Puck frowned. “They don’t have one of those industrial dishwashers?”
“They do. Me.”
Barking out a surprised laugh, Puck turned to find Alex grinning at him.
“There you are! I haven’t seen you in so long, I thought you’d run away.” Mercedes walked up to him, smile on her face and hands on her hips. It took her a few seconds to realize that Alex was beside him. “Oh!” Her smile became uncertain. “Hey, K - ”
“Alex,” Puck muttered underneath his breath.
“Alex. Hey, Alex.”
His eyes once again lowered, Alex nodded and handed out a few blankets.
“Alex and I’ve been handing out blankets as people leave,” Puck volunteered. “What do they have you doing?”
She sighed, her epic cleavage taking Puck’s focus so he missed the first part of what she said. ”- and then they had me washing pots and pans!”
“That totally blows.”
“Look at my hands! Look at them!” She held them out for his inspection. She’d made him look at her hands so many times after trips to the spa that he knew her nails weren’t supposed to look so scraggly, the paint chipping, the skin dry and ashy.
“I’m sure Momma Cass has some lotion you can use to get rid of the ash,” he offered. “And a trip to your nail place will take care of the rest of it.” A glance toward Alex showed that he obviously wanted to say something but was holding himself back.
“But in the meantime, I’ll have to go around looking like this!”
“Look at it this way; you’re building up good karma points.”
Mercedes laughed and bumped his shoulder. “Good point.”
Puck looked over toward Alex only to find an empty space. “Where’d he go?”
Shoulders slumping, Mercedes looked at him. “I ran him off, didn’t I?”
Puck handed out a few blankets and took a moment to put his arm around his friend. “He’s just going to need some time to get used to having people in his life again, and we’re not going anywhere.” He hoped he’d made a good start.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Puck rolled over on Sunday afternoon, yawning as he climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom, barely acknowledging the squeals he heard on his way.
“Puck, what have I said about walking around the apartment naked?” Mercedes chastised him.
“Girl, if I were you, I’d stop yelling and take some pictures,” another female voice said.
“Monique’s taking care of that already,” a third female voice muttered.
Puck had to turn at that and grin at the five lovely African American women sitting around the coffee table in the living room. “Ladies,” he said, his voice still gravely from sleep.
“Hel-lo,” one woman whispered, while another continued to take pictures with her phone.
Sparing them one last glance, Puck sauntered into the bathroom, smile still on his face once he was alone. He knew he looked good. He’d even joined a gym to take the place of the regular football and baseball workouts he’d had during high school. Every so often, he’d pickup a basketball game here and there as well. So he figured there was nothing wrong with appreciating what you had, especially if you had to work hard to maintain it. He put in the effort; he deserved the reward.
He took a quick shower, leaving the bathroom steaming, and sauntered out in his towel.
“You can stop flexing; the ladies are gone,” Mercedes said dryly from the island in the kitchen.
Puck laughed, rubbing his second towel over his hair. “Their loss.”
“I’m sure they would’ve stayed if they’d known there was going to be a second show.”
“It’s always a roundtrip from the bathroom,” he pointed out.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll make sure that we have more study sessions here in the - ” she looked at her watch. “ - early afternoon.” Picking up a pan, she added. “Want some lunch?”
“Actually, how about we eat out for brunch?” He asked.
“Sure,” she said, happily returning the pan to the cabinet. “Where do you want to go?”
“I have a craving for Spanish food.”
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Most people thought of washing dishes at a restaurant as a terrible job, but Alex found it relaxing. His rough hands, long used to the heat of the water and the chemicals in the detergents, did their job automatically, and he could let his mind wander.
The past few years, he’d learned how to make his mind blank, let it wander through colors and scenes in his mind, travel to other places, real and imagined. He listened to music in his head, soothing instrumentals containing dramatic flair.
He thought of his mind as a ribbon, floating on the air, drifting in whatever direction the wind took him, and he liked the idea that he was dependent on something else by choice, not by fortune.
In all of these wanderings, he was always alone. Never lonely, but always alone.
Today, though, for the first time, he felt the lack of company like a missing phantom limb, not there but feeling like it should be. It worried and confused him, but he didn’t like introspection; it was another dangerous path to take.
He washed dishes, very much in the world this time, trying to let the loud music and Spanish mostly yelled by Iago, the chef, to the others wash over him, trying to deny the sudden urge for more.
He wasn’t sure how long it took to get his attention, but he realized that Alban, one of the waiters was talking to him, telling him that he had a visitor.
All conversation in the kitchen ceased. While he was polite and worked hard, Alex kept to himself. He never received any calls or had people picking him up or dropping him off. It was unheard of for someone to come visit him, so naturally everyone was curious.
The only people who knew where he worked were Alejandro, Momma Cass, and her boys, and Alex couldn’t see any one of them visiting him here. He peeked out of the swinging doors and saw Puck looking expectantly in his direction, grinning when he spotted Alex. The person facing him turned, and he saw Mercedes’ delighted smile.
Closing the door quickly, he closed his eyes. He was breathing hard and wanted nothing better than to run away again, but he knew that they’d just come back. They couldn’t stay the night here like they did at Momma Cass’, but they’d end up becoming regulars just to spite him. Mercedes would tell everyone about Kurt, and Puck would end up dating all of the cute waitresses - actually, after Puck’s revelation, he’d probably end up dating all of the cute waitresses and waiters.
Opening his eyes, he took a deep breath and noticed everyone in the kitchen staring at him. Offering a general, lame smile, he took one more breath and pushed out of the door, walking over to the table, where he stood awkwardly, unsure of what was expected of him.
“Hey,” Puck said as if they’d just chatted earlier that day.
“Hey,” Alex repeated.
“So what’s good here?”
Alex had expected all sorts of comments and questions, but that one caught him by surprise. “Umm, everything, actually. Iago is a really good chef.”
Puck looked at Mercedes. “Why don’t we just order a whole bunch of things, get them to go, and eat them back at the apartment?”
Mercedes nodded. “That sounds good.”
They both looked at Alex, who wasn’t sure what they expected of him. He’d already told them that everything was good; what else was he supposed to do?
“You get off soon, right?” Puck asked in the tone of a man who already knew the answer.
“Umm…”
“Yes, sir, he does,” Alban said with a smile.
“Great! You can come with us and help us eat it all.”
Alex started to feel a little pressured, like when he’d get cornered in the street and knew that he was going to have to fight his way out. Only this time, he couldn’t pull out his shiv and cut someone.
He much preferred his chances on the street.
Uncomfortable, he retreated back into the kitchen, keeping his focus on the sink. He couldn’t bear to think of the speculation, the conversations going on in the kitchen, all about him. He just wanted to immerse his hands into the hot, soapy water and let his mind fly again.
“Alex!” Iago rarely even looked at him, had never spoken to him, and Alex found that it worked out well for both parties involved. But now their run had come to an end, Alex thought sadly as he turned and stared at the chef’s right ear. “Go home.”
Startled, Alex briefly glanced at Chef’s face to be certain he’d heard correctly. “Chef?”
“Go home. You always take over for everyone else. It’s now your turn. Go and eat with your friends. We will prepare the best, and maybe they tell their friends.” Chef’s heavy accent didn’t hide his kind tone, and Alex felt himself get a little emotional. Chef was never nice, never concerned. And now, suddenly, he was being nice to the dishwasher?
Pushing back tears he didn’t understand, Alex nodded and took off the apron he’d wrapped around himself and grabbed his bag.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Mercedes was worried. And a little tired. As a performer, she was used to expressing many emotions within a small amount of time, but those same emotions in real life were exhausting. She’d been happy to go out to lunch with Puck, although she couldn’t understand why, with all of the restaurant choices, Puck would want to go to a Latin American restaurant in Queens. Once they sat down, and Puck asked after Alex, she understood. Leaning across the table, she whispered, “Do you really think this is a good idea?”
Puck, as always, seemed calm and assured. “It’ll be fine.”
“He doesn’t do well when he feels he’s being cornered. He might run.”
“I’ve been working out; I’ll catch him.”
Mercedes rolled her eyes at his smirk. “Look, I know you two hit it off the other day, but for some reason, I still scare him.” She tried not to show her fear as she tried to make Puck understand. “I can’t stand the look he gets when he sees me, like I’m…” she cast around for the right word, “like I’m trying to hurt him or something.”
“He’s never gonna get over it if you two don’t start spending some time together.” Puck leaned forward too, his face close to Mercedes as he whispered, “I know that this is a big step for all of us, especially him, but I gotta tell ya’,” he sat back, smirk back on his face, “I don’t do small ones.” His smirk turned into a full grin as he looked behind her, and Mercedes knew he must be looking at Alex.
Mercedes didn’t say much as Puck decided to order a butt load of food to go, and she tried to look as unthreatening as she could. She figured she’d done okay, considering Alex hadn’t even looked at her once. Of course, he never seemed to look anyone in the eyes nowadays either, so she wasn’t sure if it meant anything. One of the waiters stepped up to say that his shift was almost over, and she saw him get that trapped look in his eyes, the way he did when he first saw them, and she was sure he was going to run. He did seem to step quickly back into the kitchen, but the smile from the waiter encouraged her. She still looked over at Puck and asked, only half joking, “Think one of us should go to the back to make sure he doesn’t run?”
For the first time that day, Puck looked a little unsure. “We’re already pushing him as it is. If we go further, we’re going to lose him.”
She looked at Puck closely. They hadn’t really talked about the situation much since they’d left Aunt Momma’s, and she knew that that wasn’t like her. However, she was honest enough with herself to admit that she’d felt a little jealous at how easily Puck had managed to break thorough Alex’s defenses. However, instead of allowing that negativity to fester, she’d taken Marcel at his word and called him. He’d helped her turn it around, and she used it as incentive, as proof that getting into Alex’s life was possible. She almost smiled when she remembered the homework he’d given her, to practice saying “Alex” instead of “Kurt”, and it had actually helped. Now she was going to put it to the test, and she worried that she was going to ruin it all.
“Hey,” Puck said, taking one of her hands. “Someone’s gonna mess up. It’s bound to happen, and it’ll probably be me.” His lip quirked, and Mercedes had to grin. “We’re all just feeling our way along here, even Alex. It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
Feeling a presence behind her, Mercedes turned to find Alex standing there, hoodie on, his eyes on the floor. He still had that bag that he never seemed to take off, the strap stretching across his chest and emphasizing how tiny he’d become. He looked solid, just… small.
The waiter returned and placed three filled bags of food on the table, large smile on his face. “All of our best dishes. Alex will give you the names, okay?”
“Thanks,” Mercedes said, reaching for the wallet in her bag.
“I got it,” Puck said. “I’ll be right back.” He and the waiter walked to the register, leaving Mercedes alone with Alex for the first time.
“So,” Mercedes said, searching for something to say. “You like working here?”
Alex nodded.
“If the food tastes like it smells, I would’ve gained twenty pounds my first day.”
The small smile encouraged her.
“Puck and I live in Brooklyn, but we should probably catch a cab with all the bags here. That way, they might still be a little warm when we get to our place.” She saw the frantic eye movement and wondered if he were more worried about being in a cab with them or the thought that he’d have to pay his share of the ride. “It’s our treat since we’re kidnapping you.” She smiled at him. He didn’t really respond, so she said quietly, “I know we kind of threw this at you, so if you don’t want to come with us, you don’t have to.” No response. She stepped forward but made sure she wasn’t too close. “Alex, it’s your choice.”
His eyes snapped up to hers for a moment, and she saw the surprise there.
Before she could say anything else, she saw Puck returning.
“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing two of the bags.
Alex took the last bag, letting Mercedes know that he was planning on going with them. Alone at the table, she breathed a sigh of relief before following her boys out of the restaurant and into the cold.
Evidently, Puck had been busy. While he’d paid for the food, he’d managed to get the waiter to call a cousin of some sort who drove a gypsy cab. The man waited for them outside of the restaurant and pulled away from the curb without a single word. Puck sat in the front, leaving Mercedes and Alex in the back with the bags.
“These smell really good,” Mercedes called toward the front. “I think Alex and I are just gong to take a little taste.”
“Leave the bags alone, Aretha,” Puck warned without turning around.
“Just one…little…taste,” Mercedes teased.
“I will cut you,” Puck said calmly.
Automatically, Mercedes turned to Alex, who was smiling softly at the back of the driver’s seat, his hands loosely gripping his strap. She felt like she’d really accomplished something. He wasn’t as tense, and while he wasn’t joining in the teasing, he seemed to be having a little bit of fun. It was Alex’s version of Kurt’s hopping up and down and clapping his hands.
Mercedes and Puck kept up their routine until the cabbie pulled up in front of their building, Puck’s paying the man before helping with the bags. Mercedes made a mental note to find out how much Puck was paying out so she could pitch in her fair share.
“We’re on the fourth floor,” Mercedes told Alex apologetically.
“My room’s on the fifth,” Alex said.
Mercedes and Puck shared a warm glance, and she wanted to hug him; she could tell that he realized the same thing. This was the first comment Alex had made voluntarily, without a single prompt. She felt like celebrating.
The apartment was immaculate, thanks more to Mercedes than Puck or Thomas. She was glad she’d made the effort, although she wasn’t sure if Alex appreciated it all that much. She watched him look around briefly, then stand at the door as Puck walked into the kitchen. The urge to grab his arm and tug him into the kitchen felt so strong that it almost hurt to ignore it, but she remembered what she’d heard about how he reacted to people touching him and knew it would probably set back the progress they’d made so far that day. Instead, she tilted her head toward the kitchen. “You can put your bag here by the door if you want.”
Alex shook his head.
“Okay, well, you can follow Puck in the kitchen with the food.”
Alex nodded, walking into the kitchen where Puck was already taking containers out of the bags and placing them on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.
“We can set out everything here and then eat in the living room,” he explained.
“Since we don’t have a real kitchen or dining room, we tend to eat there,” Mercedes added, squeezing into the kitchen to grab plates, utensils, and napkins.
“Plus, the television’s in there.” Puck grinned at him. “We have the full premium package, which includes all of the movie and, more importantly, sports channels.”
Rolling her eyes, Mercedes said, “Do not get him started on that. You would think by the way he talks about it that he does nothing but watch sports, but he’s never even really here to appreciate it.”
“Hey, I watch it,” Puck countered. “It is just easier to do when you’re in class.” He leaned toward Alex conspiratorially. “When she’s not complaining about it, she’s sitting there asking stupid questions.”
“I asked you once - once! - who the cute quarterback was,” Mercedes said.
“Once was enough,” Puck grumbled.
“Please, like you didn't think he was cute too.”
Puck had nothing to say to that.
Laughing, Mercedes handed each man a plate. “Okay, Alex. Time to show us your expertise. What is all this?”
Alex stepped forward and pointed to each dish, explaining what it was called, the type of food included, how each dish was made. Mercedes hadn’t heard him say so much since before his father passed away. It was just facts said in a kind of deep monotone, but Mercedes was grateful for it just the same.
They all grabbed food and spread out in the living room. Puck sat in the recliner, which, Mercedes explained, was where he lived when he was home and not in his room. Mercedes took one side of the sofa, leaving the other one for Alex.
“We forgot the drinks,” Mercedes realized, putting her plate down on the coffee table.
“I got it,” Puck volunteered. “Alex, what do you want? We have soda, milk, juice, water, beer.”
Alex looked a little scared, and Mercedes wondered how long it had been since he’d been given choices. “Do you want to start with some water?” She asked gently.
Alex looked relieved. “Yes, please.”
“Water it is,” Puck said. “’retha?”
“Juice, please.”
Puck returned quickly with the drinks, and Mercedes bent her head down to pray. Puck had been around her enough to know that while she’d let him get away with avoiding it outside, she fully expected him to pray with her before a meal at home. She was so used to it that it didn’t occur to her to discuss it with Alex. “Thank you, God for this our blessings,” she started when she heard the scrape of metal on glass and opened her eyes to find Alex bent over his plate, shoveling food into his mouth faster than he should have been able to chew and swallow.
She looked over to Puck and saw that he was watching Alex with a sad, surprised expression on his face. Turning back to Alex, she realized that she had seen this kind of behavior before when they were questioning his friend Mace and as she watched quite a few homeless people eat in the two days they had volunteered with Aunt Momma. She had noticed that it was usually the people who came in alone who ate curled up over their plates, not the families or the people with friends. Just the loners, and it broke her heart a little to realize that her old friend had become one of those.
Shrugging, Puck started eating, and Mercedes followed suit. They ate in silence, Puck and Mercedes trying not to be obvious as they watched Alex scarf through his meal. After he finished, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and finally looked up. Mercedes watched him still and figured he had realized that she and Puck were not even halfway through their plates.
Trying to sound casual, she said, “Help yourself to seconds.”
It seemed to her that Alex wanted to go back for more, but he just shook his head. “No, thank you.” He tugged at his strap before raising his plate and utensils. “Where can I put these?”
“Just drop them in the sink,” Puck told him. “We'll rinse them off and throw them in the dishwasher later.” He picked up the remote. “Let’s see what movies are on.”
Alex headed to the kitchen, and Mercedes leaned toward Puck. “See if there are any musicals, like ‘Guys and Dolls’ or ‘Grease’.”
Puck did some fancy maneuvering with the remote, accessing the cable's search feature. “How about ‘Brigadoon’?”
“Perfect!” Mercedes leaned back just as Alex reentered the room and sat down. “Interested in a movie?”
Alex nodded a little too quickly, and Mercedes smothered a smile. He‘d probably been worried that he would have to sit there and talk with them until they had finished eating.
“So what is this ‘Brigadoon’ about?” Puck asked, hitting the mute. “We have about two minutes before it starts, so give me a quick breakdown. Is it some chick flick?”
“It’s about two Americans who are hunting in Scotland when they literally run into a village that only appears for one day every two hundred years.”
Puck blinked at Mercedes. “That sounds stupid and absolutely improbable. What else is on?” He picked up the remote.
“Cyd Charisse is in it,” Alex said. “She’s pretty hot.”
“What do you know about hot chicks?” Puck teased.
Alex shrugged and said, “Gene Kelly and Van Johnson are in it. They’re both pretty hot too.”
“A little something for everyone,” Mercedes pointed out.
“And a little everything for me,” Puck added.
“He’s become unbearable since he realized he’s bi,” Mercedes stage whispered to Alex.
“He was unbearable before he realized he was bi,” Alex pointed out. “Is it possible for him to become even more unbearable?”
This was quickly becoming a huge day of firsts, Mercedes realized. The first time she had really acknowledged Kurt as Alex, the first time Alex had come home with them, the first time they’d all eaten together, the first time Alex had referenced their past. She wasn’t the only one to notice this last one, at least, because the room became a little uncomfortable until Puck turned up the volume.
“Okay,” he said, “I’m going to try it. But there better be some skin.”
It was Mercedes’ turn to share a grin with Alex.
Chapter 7: …Two Steps Back?
Entry with links to each chapter