Alex In the City by BymagaJones 10:/16: Puck Invites Himself
Chapter 9: Sleepover
Chapter 10: Puck Invites Himself
Alex’s first thought when he stepped into the shower was that Mercedes was the master of understatement. The heat from the water, the force of the spray, the spray pattern… all it created a feeling of such bliss that he wasn’t capable of doing more than just standing there and enjoying it. He lost track of time, but eventually, he thought to turn around, and the massage on his back was even more fantastic. He wanted to move into this bathroom, he wanted to marry this bathroom and have many baby bathrooms with it. Turning back around, he put his face into the spray and let it caress his skin, embracing the almost painful needle pricks.
He tried to remember the last time he took a shower, and he figured it to be right after the lice outbreak at that shelter, which, funny enough, had been the fault of one of the volunteers. They’d shaved everyone’s heads and then made them shower and shave off the rest of their body hair. He’d refused to shave his eyebrows, so they’d given him a small comb and some nasty shampoo, and he’d had to spend a little longer in the shower than the others. That shower was in a large communal room, filled with mostly older men, and he’d felt exposed and uncomfortable. All he’d wanted to do was get clean and get out.
But this… they said he could stay in here as long as he wanted, and he wanted to stay in here forever. However, he still had a job to get to, and he knew there was such a thing overstaying a welcome. He grabbed the soap and washcloth and started with his arms.
Eventually, the water cooled, and Alex finally turned off the shower. His skin was pruny, his belly full, and he was warm and getting ready to put on clean clothes. He was a lucky man indeed.
After drying and hanging the towel and wash cloth over the shower rack, he pulled on the boxers, which were big for him, and the long-sleeved t-shirt, which wasn’t, and sat on the toilet, relishing the feel of clean. He pulled the neck of the shirt to his nose and inhaled, smelling Puck. He liked the smell, liked that he was wearing it close to him.
Sighing, he stood and put back on his jeans, balled up his dirty shirt and underwear, and shoved them into his bag. He threw his bag across his shoulders and opened the door, leaving the bathroom in a wave of steam.
“Awesome shower, right?” Puck asked from the sofa.
Alex nodded.
“You ready to go?”
Alex looked around.
“Your jacket’s by the door,” Puck reminded him.
“Then I’m ready.”
Alex didn’t realize that Puck was leaving as well until they were both putting on their jackets. He also didn’t realize that Puck was going with him until they stood in front of the same platform. “Where’re you going?”
Puck shrugged, gesturing toward the guitar case slung over his shoulder. “I don’t have to be at band practice until 2, so I thought I’d go with you to the restaurant.”
Alex didn’t know what he wanted to say to that. The Alex from a week ago would have told him to step off in his low I’ll-kick-your-ass-if-you-mess-with-me tone. Part of him wanted to show Puck his makeshift weapons and explain that he’d been taking care of himself for years now without a bodyguard. What kept him silent was the small, yet insistent part that felt warmed that someone cared enough to want to escort him to work. It was unfamiliar, yet he couldn’t deny that it also felt good. So he just decided to give Puck a little smile and nod and let it go. He’d learned that when undecided, it was best to sit back and wait before making a move that would commit him to a plan of action.
They sat beside each other on the train, Puck’s leg almost touching his. The trip from Puck’s bookstore to Puck's apartment had been during a busy part of the day, so they’d ended up standing close enough to talk, but far enough away that touching hadn’t even entered his mind. But now, his mind was focused on feeling Puck’s warmth so close to his. What surprised him was that the thought of Puck pressing against him didn’t bother him in the least.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Almost a week later, Puck found himself loitering outside of Alex’s restaurant, trying not to seem like a stalker. He wanted to see Alex, but short of calling him at work, there wasn’t another way for Puck to talk to him. Puck had waited a few days to see if Alex would show up again at his job or maybe at the apartment, but after nothing, he figured it was his turn to wait for Alex outside. He wondered if Alex had felt then as uncomfortable as Puck felt now. At least Puck thought he could pass for Hispanic in this neighborhood, but he wondered how Alex felt spending so much time in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood when he was so very white. A corner of Puck’s lips pulled up thinking about little Alex walking around the streets, unaware of the looks as he passed. But then again, Alex was good at becoming invisible. Puck had watched him the two times they were on the subway. He wasn’t sure what Alex did, but he almost seemed to disappear in a crowd. It was fascinating, actually. And a little depressing.
The restaurant lights turned off, and the employees began to file out of the restaurant. Most of them eyeballed him with distrust, but he got a smile from the waiter who obviously recognized him from his first visit.
The second to last person was, of course, Alex, who blinked when he saw Puck standing there. After a second, he walked over.
“Hey,” Puck said.
“Hey,” Alex answered.
“So I got out of band practice and realized that I hadn’t seen you in a while.”
“It’s Saturday night. You aren’t going out clubbing?”
Normally that’s exactly what Puck would be doing. In fact, his fellow band mates were shocked when he bailed on them and headed out. Truth be told, he was kind of shocked himself. He wasn’t surprised that he wanted to check on Alex; what got him was the fact that he wanted to spend his Friday with Alex. He didn’t have anything in mind; he just wanted to chill with his friend.
Another disturbing thing was that he should’ve called Mercedes. He knew she had some sort of furtive plans - and when the hell did she become so secretive? - but he should’ve given her the option of coming with him. The thing was, he liked spending time alone with Alex. He liked the lack of tension that came with knowing that a whole ball of emotion wasn’t going to come shooting out of nowhere. He liked that he could just chill with Alex, no pressure. He didn’t have a plan in mind for the night, but that was kind of nice too.
“Naw, didn’t really feel like it tonight. Besides, there’s always the after-church crowd tomorrow.” He tossed Alex a rakish grin.
Alex smiled back and shook his head.
“What were you planning on doing now?” Puck asked, falling into step with Alex.
“Going home. Reading a little bit. Going to sleep.”
“Wow,” Puck said. “My head is reeling from the craziness. Please stop.” He could’ve sworn that Alex almost laughed. “How far do you live from here?”
“Up the street,” Alex said, almost reluctantly.
“We don’t have to go there if you don’t want to,” Puck said, getting the feeling that he was intruding. “We can just walk around if you want. I’d invite you back to my place, but Thomas is having a study group there tonight.” Puck leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “He’s a dance major doing some sort of special performance art project, though, so it can get a little dangerous with hands and legs whipping everywhere. Don't even get me started about all the camel toe.”
That time he did get a laugh, and it felt like a true accomplishment.
“We can go to my room,” Alex said, “but I don’t have much.”
“You have heat?”
Alex nodded.
“Then we’re good.” Puck had another thought. “You have any of the rugelach left?” While Alex had showered at Puck’s, Puck had bagged up what they hadn’t eaten and shoved the bag at Alex before he’d left, giving Alex no time to come up with an excuse not to take it.
Alex shook his head.
“How long did it take you to eat them all?”
Alex suddenly found a passing car fascinating.
“C’mon,” Puck cajoled, chancing a quick, but gentle, shoulder bump. “How long?”
“I finished them that night,” Alex confessed. “What? They were good!” He had to raise his voice over Puck’s laugh.
“Hey - I made them. I know they’re good.” Puck said.
“Such modesty,” Alex teased.
“There is no place for modesty in the midst of truth,” Puck said.
Alex looked at him a second before laughing. “You are so full of crap.”
“But it sounded really good, didn’t it?” Still grinning, Puck asked, “So, what do you want to do?”
Alex thought a bit. “Have you eaten dinner?”
“Sure,” Puck shrugged, looking at his watch. “About five hours ago. So I’m about due if I’m gonna stay awake.”
Tilting his head toward a bodega on the corner, Alex cocked an eyebrow. “They have snacks and stuff and a microwave for customers to use.”
“Sounds perfect,” Puck said, leading the way. “So you live near here?”
“It’s up another few blocks.”
“That’s one fantastic commute.”
“Yeah, I got lucky,” Alex said, opening up the door for Puck.
The inside looked like every corner shop Puck had seen in the outer boroughs, filled with small quantities of necessities - one roll of toilet paper, small bottle of dish soap - and large quantities of junk food and sodas. He felt right at home.
Alex led him to the back, where the room opened up a little to reveal what looked more like an abbreviated version of the convenience stores they’d left behind, hot dogs slowly revolving in a clear container, a couple of coffee carafes next to plastic cups and small creamers, a refrigerator filled with wrapped goods, which is where Alex led him.
“They have all kinds of sandwiches in here,” he said, pointing to the refrigerator, “stuff like egg salad sandwiches,” he smiled at Puck’s pained look, “and steak subs,” Puck’s smile and now-we’re-talking nod let him know he was moving in the right direction, “and things like pastrami and BLT’s. You choose what you want, and they have a microwave behind the register.”
“Behind the register, that’s a new one.”
Alex shrugged, barely looking at the wrapped sandwich he pulled out of the refrigerator. “Turns out, people were nuking the food and eating them back here before they paid for them.”
“Of course they were,” Puck said, unsurprised as he chose a steak and cheese sub and a BLT. “What kind of desserts do they have?”
Alex led him around the corner, where he found two waist-high refrigerator units beside rows of cookies, cakes, and chips. “The things that need to stay cool, ice cream and puddings are in these two, and you see the rest.”
Puck wasn’t certain what mood he was in, so he bought a rice pudding - without raisins, thank you very much - and some chips as well as a personalized size of chocolate cookies. “Drinks,” he decided after he realized that Alex wasn’t planning on picking a dessert. Thinking how much Alex seemed to like his chocolate rugelach, he grabbed another package of chocolate cookies when Alex’s back was turned and had to jog to catch up.
Alex had pulled out a small bottle of water by the time Puck caught up to him. “Can you grab me a large water?” He asked, looking down at his filled hands.
They bought their food and continued down the street until they came upon one of the most depressing buildings Puck had ever seen. It looked like a big, brick box with teensy windows covered by iron bars. The front door itself contained two locks and no buzzer.
“How you let in visitors?” He asked.
“You come down and get them,” Alex said matter-of-factly, and Puck had to remind himself that after living on the streets for almost two years, Alex would find a place of his own where he could lay his head good enough. Besides, he probably hadn’t expected to have visitors.
Knowing that Alex didn’t have a cell phone and assuming that this place didn’t offer landlines, Puck wondered how he was supposed to let Alex know he was outside, but he kept the unhelpful question to himself. It would probably only make Alex defensive, or even worse, it could make him feel bad about something that really was a true accomplishment.
Puck practically fell into Alex’s apartment after surviving the trek up five flights. He’d thought he was in good shape, but he stood there, panting, while Alex calmly walked further into the room and placed his bag on a counter. He returned to the door, activating all of the locks.
Catching his breath, Puck looked around the spartan room. For the first time, it really hit him that when Alex had called his place a room, he really meant a room. There were no chairs, no coffee table, nothing on the walls, no fridge or stove. The only sink looked like a small, white one from an elementary school. He turned toward the teensy window, unsurprised to see the bars over it.
The room reminded him of his stay in juvie - minus the toilet and extra bed.
“You can sit, um, on the floor or on the bed,” Alex muttered, clearly embarrassed.
After setting his guitar down on the floor, he settled himself at the foot of the bed and he opened up his bag, deciding to just play it low key. He figured making a big deal about the room would just make Alex more self-conscious. “Would you mind if I played you something after we ate? I’m working on a song, and I need an unbiased opinion.”
“Sure.” Alex stood awkwardly, holding his sandwich and the two waters.
Pretending like it wasn’t a big deal, Puck patted the bed. “C’mon. I’m starving.”
Alex gave him a small smile and sat on the edge of the head of the bed.
Puck made small talk as they ate, telling Alex about his day, allowing space for Alex to do the same. During that time, he was able to get more of an idea of Alex’s life, which seemed to consist of working at the chop shop in the morning and at the restaurant at night with little exciting ‘finds’ in curbside trash along the way. He wasn’t surprised or appalled at Alex’s apartment being designed by the trash of others; he’d lived in the city long enough to see men and women dressed in business suits rooting around promising looking piles on the curb. In fact, when Tyler’s sister moved in with her boyfriend, she put her unwanted stuff on the street to be taken by anyone who wanted it. It was the big city’s convenient Craig’s list.
However, he was bothered by Alex’s routine. He wanted more for his friend. It was like Alex was content to just tread water forever.
“So, you have a roof over your head; what’s next?” He asked.
“I bought a bar of soap and a light bulb. I’m on the lookout for a rug, maybe a real trashcan instead of using just a bag.” He pointed toward a plastic bag hanging off the doorknob. “Next week, I’m going to try to buy some good, thick lotion.” He held out his hands, and Puck was a little appalled at how rough they looked. “Working on the cars and then washing dishes… well, it’s not as bad in the summer, but it’s just so cold out.”
“We could’ve gotten some at the bodega while we were there,” Puck said.
Alex was already shaking his head. “I have to make sure I have rent covered first.”
“Working two jobs, you must be doing okay, right?” Puck’s mom raised him well enough for him to know not to ask specific questions about money, but he couldn’t imagine that Alex couldn’t afford a room in Queens after working two jobs. Sure, neither place was required to pay him minimum wage, but still.
“I have to be prepared. What if I get mugged? What if they bust the shop or the restaurant catches fire? There are no excuses here. If I don’t pay when rent’s due, I get kicked back out onto the street.” Alex’s tone left no doubt that he was going to do whatever he had to do to not end up back out there, and Puck was equally determined to make sure that even if for some reason Alex couldn’t live here, he was going to end up staying somewhere else - anywhere else - with walls and a ceiling. After a pause, he added, “And I’m trying to save some money.”
“That’s great!” Saving meant looking toward the future, and while he wasn’t sure if Kurt had specific plans, at least he was turned forward, if not actually moving in that direction. “Which bank do you use?” Then he realized his mistake. “I guess you can’t use a bank, right? Evil Uncle could track you down.”
Alex tilted his head. “I’m not eighteen yet.”
“How long you got?’
“Until May.”
“That’s not that far away,” Puck said. “If you want, I can open up an account for you.” He thought about his offer, just made at the spur of the moment, and almost closed his eyes in disgust with himself. Alex wasn’t at the point where he trusted anyone, and he’d just gotten to the point where he’d share little things with Puck. He’d been making such strides, and he really didn’t want one stupid offer to put their relationship back. “I’m sorry. Forget I said that.”
“I appreciate it,” Alex said, “but I’m okay.”
Puck opened his mouth to continue to apologize but realized that Alex had taken the offer way better than Puck would’ve expected. He must have looked as stunned as he felt, because Alex started to laugh.
“You look so scared.”
“I just thought you’d get mad.”
“I know you’re only trying to help,” Alex said. “I do appreciate it.”
That made Puck’s week.
Chapter 11: Promises
Entry with links to each chapter
Chapter 10: Puck Invites Himself
Alex’s first thought when he stepped into the shower was that Mercedes was the master of understatement. The heat from the water, the force of the spray, the spray pattern… all it created a feeling of such bliss that he wasn’t capable of doing more than just standing there and enjoying it. He lost track of time, but eventually, he thought to turn around, and the massage on his back was even more fantastic. He wanted to move into this bathroom, he wanted to marry this bathroom and have many baby bathrooms with it. Turning back around, he put his face into the spray and let it caress his skin, embracing the almost painful needle pricks.
He tried to remember the last time he took a shower, and he figured it to be right after the lice outbreak at that shelter, which, funny enough, had been the fault of one of the volunteers. They’d shaved everyone’s heads and then made them shower and shave off the rest of their body hair. He’d refused to shave his eyebrows, so they’d given him a small comb and some nasty shampoo, and he’d had to spend a little longer in the shower than the others. That shower was in a large communal room, filled with mostly older men, and he’d felt exposed and uncomfortable. All he’d wanted to do was get clean and get out.
But this… they said he could stay in here as long as he wanted, and he wanted to stay in here forever. However, he still had a job to get to, and he knew there was such a thing overstaying a welcome. He grabbed the soap and washcloth and started with his arms.
Eventually, the water cooled, and Alex finally turned off the shower. His skin was pruny, his belly full, and he was warm and getting ready to put on clean clothes. He was a lucky man indeed.
After drying and hanging the towel and wash cloth over the shower rack, he pulled on the boxers, which were big for him, and the long-sleeved t-shirt, which wasn’t, and sat on the toilet, relishing the feel of clean. He pulled the neck of the shirt to his nose and inhaled, smelling Puck. He liked the smell, liked that he was wearing it close to him.
Sighing, he stood and put back on his jeans, balled up his dirty shirt and underwear, and shoved them into his bag. He threw his bag across his shoulders and opened the door, leaving the bathroom in a wave of steam.
“Awesome shower, right?” Puck asked from the sofa.
Alex nodded.
“You ready to go?”
Alex looked around.
“Your jacket’s by the door,” Puck reminded him.
“Then I’m ready.”
Alex didn’t realize that Puck was leaving as well until they were both putting on their jackets. He also didn’t realize that Puck was going with him until they stood in front of the same platform. “Where’re you going?”
Puck shrugged, gesturing toward the guitar case slung over his shoulder. “I don’t have to be at band practice until 2, so I thought I’d go with you to the restaurant.”
Alex didn’t know what he wanted to say to that. The Alex from a week ago would have told him to step off in his low I’ll-kick-your-ass-if-you-mess-with-me tone. Part of him wanted to show Puck his makeshift weapons and explain that he’d been taking care of himself for years now without a bodyguard. What kept him silent was the small, yet insistent part that felt warmed that someone cared enough to want to escort him to work. It was unfamiliar, yet he couldn’t deny that it also felt good. So he just decided to give Puck a little smile and nod and let it go. He’d learned that when undecided, it was best to sit back and wait before making a move that would commit him to a plan of action.
They sat beside each other on the train, Puck’s leg almost touching his. The trip from Puck’s bookstore to Puck's apartment had been during a busy part of the day, so they’d ended up standing close enough to talk, but far enough away that touching hadn’t even entered his mind. But now, his mind was focused on feeling Puck’s warmth so close to his. What surprised him was that the thought of Puck pressing against him didn’t bother him in the least.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Almost a week later, Puck found himself loitering outside of Alex’s restaurant, trying not to seem like a stalker. He wanted to see Alex, but short of calling him at work, there wasn’t another way for Puck to talk to him. Puck had waited a few days to see if Alex would show up again at his job or maybe at the apartment, but after nothing, he figured it was his turn to wait for Alex outside. He wondered if Alex had felt then as uncomfortable as Puck felt now. At least Puck thought he could pass for Hispanic in this neighborhood, but he wondered how Alex felt spending so much time in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood when he was so very white. A corner of Puck’s lips pulled up thinking about little Alex walking around the streets, unaware of the looks as he passed. But then again, Alex was good at becoming invisible. Puck had watched him the two times they were on the subway. He wasn’t sure what Alex did, but he almost seemed to disappear in a crowd. It was fascinating, actually. And a little depressing.
The restaurant lights turned off, and the employees began to file out of the restaurant. Most of them eyeballed him with distrust, but he got a smile from the waiter who obviously recognized him from his first visit.
The second to last person was, of course, Alex, who blinked when he saw Puck standing there. After a second, he walked over.
“Hey,” Puck said.
“Hey,” Alex answered.
“So I got out of band practice and realized that I hadn’t seen you in a while.”
“It’s Saturday night. You aren’t going out clubbing?”
Normally that’s exactly what Puck would be doing. In fact, his fellow band mates were shocked when he bailed on them and headed out. Truth be told, he was kind of shocked himself. He wasn’t surprised that he wanted to check on Alex; what got him was the fact that he wanted to spend his Friday with Alex. He didn’t have anything in mind; he just wanted to chill with his friend.
Another disturbing thing was that he should’ve called Mercedes. He knew she had some sort of furtive plans - and when the hell did she become so secretive? - but he should’ve given her the option of coming with him. The thing was, he liked spending time alone with Alex. He liked the lack of tension that came with knowing that a whole ball of emotion wasn’t going to come shooting out of nowhere. He liked that he could just chill with Alex, no pressure. He didn’t have a plan in mind for the night, but that was kind of nice too.
“Naw, didn’t really feel like it tonight. Besides, there’s always the after-church crowd tomorrow.” He tossed Alex a rakish grin.
Alex smiled back and shook his head.
“What were you planning on doing now?” Puck asked, falling into step with Alex.
“Going home. Reading a little bit. Going to sleep.”
“Wow,” Puck said. “My head is reeling from the craziness. Please stop.” He could’ve sworn that Alex almost laughed. “How far do you live from here?”
“Up the street,” Alex said, almost reluctantly.
“We don’t have to go there if you don’t want to,” Puck said, getting the feeling that he was intruding. “We can just walk around if you want. I’d invite you back to my place, but Thomas is having a study group there tonight.” Puck leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “He’s a dance major doing some sort of special performance art project, though, so it can get a little dangerous with hands and legs whipping everywhere. Don't even get me started about all the camel toe.”
That time he did get a laugh, and it felt like a true accomplishment.
“We can go to my room,” Alex said, “but I don’t have much.”
“You have heat?”
Alex nodded.
“Then we’re good.” Puck had another thought. “You have any of the rugelach left?” While Alex had showered at Puck’s, Puck had bagged up what they hadn’t eaten and shoved the bag at Alex before he’d left, giving Alex no time to come up with an excuse not to take it.
Alex shook his head.
“How long did it take you to eat them all?”
Alex suddenly found a passing car fascinating.
“C’mon,” Puck cajoled, chancing a quick, but gentle, shoulder bump. “How long?”
“I finished them that night,” Alex confessed. “What? They were good!” He had to raise his voice over Puck’s laugh.
“Hey - I made them. I know they’re good.” Puck said.
“Such modesty,” Alex teased.
“There is no place for modesty in the midst of truth,” Puck said.
Alex looked at him a second before laughing. “You are so full of crap.”
“But it sounded really good, didn’t it?” Still grinning, Puck asked, “So, what do you want to do?”
Alex thought a bit. “Have you eaten dinner?”
“Sure,” Puck shrugged, looking at his watch. “About five hours ago. So I’m about due if I’m gonna stay awake.”
Tilting his head toward a bodega on the corner, Alex cocked an eyebrow. “They have snacks and stuff and a microwave for customers to use.”
“Sounds perfect,” Puck said, leading the way. “So you live near here?”
“It’s up another few blocks.”
“That’s one fantastic commute.”
“Yeah, I got lucky,” Alex said, opening up the door for Puck.
The inside looked like every corner shop Puck had seen in the outer boroughs, filled with small quantities of necessities - one roll of toilet paper, small bottle of dish soap - and large quantities of junk food and sodas. He felt right at home.
Alex led him to the back, where the room opened up a little to reveal what looked more like an abbreviated version of the convenience stores they’d left behind, hot dogs slowly revolving in a clear container, a couple of coffee carafes next to plastic cups and small creamers, a refrigerator filled with wrapped goods, which is where Alex led him.
“They have all kinds of sandwiches in here,” he said, pointing to the refrigerator, “stuff like egg salad sandwiches,” he smiled at Puck’s pained look, “and steak subs,” Puck’s smile and now-we’re-talking nod let him know he was moving in the right direction, “and things like pastrami and BLT’s. You choose what you want, and they have a microwave behind the register.”
“Behind the register, that’s a new one.”
Alex shrugged, barely looking at the wrapped sandwich he pulled out of the refrigerator. “Turns out, people were nuking the food and eating them back here before they paid for them.”
“Of course they were,” Puck said, unsurprised as he chose a steak and cheese sub and a BLT. “What kind of desserts do they have?”
Alex led him around the corner, where he found two waist-high refrigerator units beside rows of cookies, cakes, and chips. “The things that need to stay cool, ice cream and puddings are in these two, and you see the rest.”
Puck wasn’t certain what mood he was in, so he bought a rice pudding - without raisins, thank you very much - and some chips as well as a personalized size of chocolate cookies. “Drinks,” he decided after he realized that Alex wasn’t planning on picking a dessert. Thinking how much Alex seemed to like his chocolate rugelach, he grabbed another package of chocolate cookies when Alex’s back was turned and had to jog to catch up.
Alex had pulled out a small bottle of water by the time Puck caught up to him. “Can you grab me a large water?” He asked, looking down at his filled hands.
They bought their food and continued down the street until they came upon one of the most depressing buildings Puck had ever seen. It looked like a big, brick box with teensy windows covered by iron bars. The front door itself contained two locks and no buzzer.
“How you let in visitors?” He asked.
“You come down and get them,” Alex said matter-of-factly, and Puck had to remind himself that after living on the streets for almost two years, Alex would find a place of his own where he could lay his head good enough. Besides, he probably hadn’t expected to have visitors.
Knowing that Alex didn’t have a cell phone and assuming that this place didn’t offer landlines, Puck wondered how he was supposed to let Alex know he was outside, but he kept the unhelpful question to himself. It would probably only make Alex defensive, or even worse, it could make him feel bad about something that really was a true accomplishment.
Puck practically fell into Alex’s apartment after surviving the trek up five flights. He’d thought he was in good shape, but he stood there, panting, while Alex calmly walked further into the room and placed his bag on a counter. He returned to the door, activating all of the locks.
Catching his breath, Puck looked around the spartan room. For the first time, it really hit him that when Alex had called his place a room, he really meant a room. There were no chairs, no coffee table, nothing on the walls, no fridge or stove. The only sink looked like a small, white one from an elementary school. He turned toward the teensy window, unsurprised to see the bars over it.
The room reminded him of his stay in juvie - minus the toilet and extra bed.
“You can sit, um, on the floor or on the bed,” Alex muttered, clearly embarrassed.
After setting his guitar down on the floor, he settled himself at the foot of the bed and he opened up his bag, deciding to just play it low key. He figured making a big deal about the room would just make Alex more self-conscious. “Would you mind if I played you something after we ate? I’m working on a song, and I need an unbiased opinion.”
“Sure.” Alex stood awkwardly, holding his sandwich and the two waters.
Pretending like it wasn’t a big deal, Puck patted the bed. “C’mon. I’m starving.”
Alex gave him a small smile and sat on the edge of the head of the bed.
Puck made small talk as they ate, telling Alex about his day, allowing space for Alex to do the same. During that time, he was able to get more of an idea of Alex’s life, which seemed to consist of working at the chop shop in the morning and at the restaurant at night with little exciting ‘finds’ in curbside trash along the way. He wasn’t surprised or appalled at Alex’s apartment being designed by the trash of others; he’d lived in the city long enough to see men and women dressed in business suits rooting around promising looking piles on the curb. In fact, when Tyler’s sister moved in with her boyfriend, she put her unwanted stuff on the street to be taken by anyone who wanted it. It was the big city’s convenient Craig’s list.
However, he was bothered by Alex’s routine. He wanted more for his friend. It was like Alex was content to just tread water forever.
“So, you have a roof over your head; what’s next?” He asked.
“I bought a bar of soap and a light bulb. I’m on the lookout for a rug, maybe a real trashcan instead of using just a bag.” He pointed toward a plastic bag hanging off the doorknob. “Next week, I’m going to try to buy some good, thick lotion.” He held out his hands, and Puck was a little appalled at how rough they looked. “Working on the cars and then washing dishes… well, it’s not as bad in the summer, but it’s just so cold out.”
“We could’ve gotten some at the bodega while we were there,” Puck said.
Alex was already shaking his head. “I have to make sure I have rent covered first.”
“Working two jobs, you must be doing okay, right?” Puck’s mom raised him well enough for him to know not to ask specific questions about money, but he couldn’t imagine that Alex couldn’t afford a room in Queens after working two jobs. Sure, neither place was required to pay him minimum wage, but still.
“I have to be prepared. What if I get mugged? What if they bust the shop or the restaurant catches fire? There are no excuses here. If I don’t pay when rent’s due, I get kicked back out onto the street.” Alex’s tone left no doubt that he was going to do whatever he had to do to not end up back out there, and Puck was equally determined to make sure that even if for some reason Alex couldn’t live here, he was going to end up staying somewhere else - anywhere else - with walls and a ceiling. After a pause, he added, “And I’m trying to save some money.”
“That’s great!” Saving meant looking toward the future, and while he wasn’t sure if Kurt had specific plans, at least he was turned forward, if not actually moving in that direction. “Which bank do you use?” Then he realized his mistake. “I guess you can’t use a bank, right? Evil Uncle could track you down.”
Alex tilted his head. “I’m not eighteen yet.”
“How long you got?’
“Until May.”
“That’s not that far away,” Puck said. “If you want, I can open up an account for you.” He thought about his offer, just made at the spur of the moment, and almost closed his eyes in disgust with himself. Alex wasn’t at the point where he trusted anyone, and he’d just gotten to the point where he’d share little things with Puck. He’d been making such strides, and he really didn’t want one stupid offer to put their relationship back. “I’m sorry. Forget I said that.”
“I appreciate it,” Alex said, “but I’m okay.”
Puck opened his mouth to continue to apologize but realized that Alex had taken the offer way better than Puck would’ve expected. He must have looked as stunned as he felt, because Alex started to laugh.
“You look so scared.”
“I just thought you’d get mad.”
“I know you’re only trying to help,” Alex said. “I do appreciate it.”
That made Puck’s week.
Chapter 11: Promises
Entry with links to each chapter