Alex In the City by BymagaJones 14/16: Will the Real BAMF Please Stand Up
Chapter 13: The Cure To All Ills
Chapter 14: Will the Real BAMF Please Stand Up
Puck knew that this day was going to be really difficult for Alex, but it had been too late to try to find someone to take his shift, and he absolutely had to go to band practice. They had a gig the next weekend, and they were going to play some of his stuff. He’d finally convinced them to add a mashup that had come to him and he’d been working on. It’d become pretty personal, and it was important that it be perfect and ready in time for their gig.
Mercedes had a light class load, but Puck wanted to be the one to be there for Alex. Mercedes was a good friend, but Alex was… more for Puck.
When did Alex become more?
Puck shook it off and finished his shift at the store, getting something from the café from dinner using his discount before heading back to Brooklyn to Tyler’s apartment for rehearsal.
“How’s your boy?” Tyler asked as he and Puck tuned their guitars.
“Not so good,” Puck admitted. “A good friend of his died the other day, and he spent all of his money to get him cremated so he wouldn’t end up at Potter’s Field.”
“Dude, that’s rough,” Jimmy, the drummer said, leaning over his kit, sticks loose in his hands.
“And now that he doesn’t have the money to pay for rent, he’s homeless again.”
“Shit,” Duane, their fourth band mate replied, his guitar hanging against his back as he absently played a few notes on the keyboard.
“The thing is, Thomas is leaving to move in with his girlfriend - that he got pregnant - ”
“But that’s perfect,” Tyler pointed out. “Thomas is out; your boy’s in there.”
Puck shook his head. “He won’t do it.”
“Why not? He needs a place to live; you need a roommate.”
Puck looked at Duane. “Alex is like that horse in that movie you made me watch, where he’s ready to run every time someone gets too close. We’ve just gotten to the point where he sleeps over on the sofa every once in a while, and he looks guilty for that.”
“I swear, your life is like a fucking soap opera,” Jimmy said.
“So what’re you gonna do?” Duane asked.
“Mercedes and I have to sit down and come up with a plan,” Puck said. “It’s just kind of hard with our schedules, and all of this just happened. I figured we could let him stay on the sofa temporarily,” he used his hands to make air quotes around temporarily, “and maybe just slowly turn him into our roommate.”
Tyler laughed. “Leave it to you to sneak someone as a roommate without them knowing it.”
Puck grinned. “What can I say? I got skills.”
The rest of the practice went really well, and Puck made sure they were out early enough for him to get to where he needed to go.
“See you later, Puck. Guys, you ready?” Tyler asked.
Puck stopped, frowning. “Where’re you guys going?”
“To the bar.” Duane tilted his head down the block.
“I’m not invited?”
“Dude, you haven’t been interested in going out since you started hanging out with your boy.”
“That’s not…” Puck frowned, realizing for the first time that it was true.
Tyler patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I mean, I never thought you’d be the first one to get tied down, but okay.”
“I’m not tied down,” Puck insisted. Weakly.
“Bless your heart,” Duane said, patting Puck on the cheek before looking at the others. “Bless his heart.”
“Bless your heart,” the others repeated, laughing as they headed down the sidewalk.
Knowing that he had other, more important things to do, Puck pushed the thought aside and texted Mercedes as he headed to the metro station.
A few seconds later, his phone rang. “Where are you?”
“We just finished. Where’re you?”
“I just got home,” Mercedes said. “How’re we gonna play this?”
“I figured that tonight, I’d just bring him home, let him sleep on the sofa.”
“What about tomorrow and the night after that?”
“One day at a time, Aretha. Maybe if we just keep doing it day by day, he won’t notice he’s become our roommate until it’s too late to make a stink about it.”
“You think he’d go for that?” Mercedes’ voice was doubtful.
“It’s amazing how far we’re willing to delude ourselves sometimes,” Puck said, thinking of past mistakes.
“He has so much pride,” Mercedes said.
“We’ve been playing this whole thing as it comes,” Puck reminded her, “and look at how far we’ve come.”
“True,” Mercedes sighed. “Should I get the sofa ready for him?”
“Let’s not act like we have it planned. Are the blanket and pillow still on the sofa from last night?”
“Yep.”
“Keep them there. It’ll just look like we didn’t have time to put them away.”
After a pause, Mercedes said, “I walked into Thomas’ room. It’s so empty that it’d have an echo if it didn’t still have a bed.”
“He left the bed?” Puck asked, wondering if there were any way they could talk Alex into sleeping in there.
“He’s not gonna do it,” Mercedes warned, totally reading his mind. “The sofa’s one thing; the bed in his own bedroom? Not a chance.”
“Yeah,” Puck admitted. “I’m at the station; we’ll see you soon.”
“Good luck,” Mercedes said before they said their goodbyes, and Puck headed down the stairs.
He managed to make it just in time, propping himself against the side of the restaurant as the door opened and the closing staff walked out. Everyone recognized his face after all the times he’d been around, so they nodded as they went their separate ways.
“Hey,” Puck said, watching Alex struggle with a cardboard box. He reached for the box. “Need some help?”
“I got it.” Alex said, jerking the box to the side, almost losing the small rolled carpet listing to the side.
Uncertain as to Alex’s reaction, he remained calm, made sure his voice was patient as he pulled out the carpet. “This should make it easier.”
“Thanks,” Alex said, his voice quiet and apologetic.
“Let’s go.” Puck turned toward the subway, hoping Alex would just step along with him. He’d only walked a few steps, realizing that Alex hadn’t moved, so he retraced his steps. “Problem?”
“I’m not a charity case,” Alex said.
“Ummm, good for you?” Puck asked, deliberately misunderstanding.
“I can’t just… just stay with you.”
“It’s one night,” Puck said, “you can figure out something tomorrow.” Alex still looked uncertain. Puck knew Alex wanted to come home with him, but he needed a reason that didn’t make him feel like he was pushing himself off on his friends. “Look,” Puck said. “If Mercedes or I needed a place to stay, and you had one, would you let us crash on your sofa?”
Alex nodded.
“So then why can’t we do the same thing for you?” Puck leaned a little closer to Alex, gratified when Alex didn’t lean away. “It’s what friends do for each other.” Taking a step back, Puck turned back toward the subway. “Now move your ass. It’s cold, and it’s late.”
They were just getting ready to turn the corner when two guys in jean jackets and hoodies ran toward them, one with a gun.
“Give us your money,” the guy with the gun said, and Puck’s heart stopped. His first thought was not to look closely at their faces, figuring they’d be less likely to shoot him if they knew he couldn’t identify them.
Hands up, he slowly reached for his back pocket to take out his wallet. The guy without the gun grabbed it and tried to take it, but it was chained to Puck’s pants. “Wait! I have to -”
A cry of pain grabbed his attention, and he turned to see Alex fighting with the guy with the gun.
“Alex!” Puck shouted as his friend wrestled with the man’s gun arm. A movement to his side reminded him of the other guy, and he managed to kick the guy in the junk and punch him in the face a few times before turning to find the other guy howling, clutching his bleeding face with both hands.
“You’re crazy!” The guy said, turning and running away.
The guy on the ground beside Puck pulled himself up and limped after his friend, bent over and groaning as he left.
Alex turned to face Puck, and Puck saw the blood running down his face. He ran up, taking Alex’s face in his hands, his heart pounding so hard he heard it in his ears. He couldn’t lose Alex, not now. “Where’re you hurt?”
Alex opened his mouth, and Puck saw something shiny between his teeth. Reaching up between them, Alex pulled the object out of his mouth, and Puck could see that it was a razor blade. Puck breathed a sigh of relief but wasn’t convinced that Alex wasn’t hurt. Pushing him away, Puck looked Alex up and down, his hands on Alex’s shoulders. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m good,” Alex said, holding up his other hand, and Puck saw a large piece of glass. Alex looked at it for a second before wiping it on his pants, repeating the process with the razorblade. He shoved the razor inside his front left pocket and slid the glass inside the sleeve of his right sleeve.
“What… what was that?” Puck asked, still trying to catch his breath.
Alex shrugged, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve, and Park marveled at how calm he seemed. “They probably thought we had something of value in the box.” He chuckled. “How little they know.” He bent down, throwing the gun in the box he’d dropped before picking it back up. Turning toward Puck he asked, “You’re okay, right?”
“If I can find my heart from when it leaped out of my chest, yes,” Puck said, huffing a laugh. He picked up the carpet and threw his free arm around Alex’s shoulders. “You, my friend, are a true BAMF.”
As they stood in the surprisingly full car, Puck stared at Alex, seeing him in a totally different light. His focus outside, Alex wasn’t paying attention, so Puck could look his fill. He’d changed since the first time they’d run into each other at Momma Cass’. For one thing, his hair had grown, although it was still way too short for Puck’s liking. He’d filled out a little too, and he didn’t seem… fragile anymore. In fact, Puck thought as he watched people move around Alex as they stepped onto the platform, Alex wasn’t invisible anymore.
He thought about what had just happened, impressed that not only had Alex not wet himself, but he’d taken on the guy with the gun without a word and ended up scaring the guy away without speaking a word or, it seemed, even getting out of breath. Puck wondered if Kurt had been through something like that before, and he decided that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He was just thankful that they were safe.
He wondered what Alex was gonna do with the gun.
Chapter 15: All Roads Lead to Marcel
Entry with links to each chapter
Chapter 14: Will the Real BAMF Please Stand Up
Puck knew that this day was going to be really difficult for Alex, but it had been too late to try to find someone to take his shift, and he absolutely had to go to band practice. They had a gig the next weekend, and they were going to play some of his stuff. He’d finally convinced them to add a mashup that had come to him and he’d been working on. It’d become pretty personal, and it was important that it be perfect and ready in time for their gig.
Mercedes had a light class load, but Puck wanted to be the one to be there for Alex. Mercedes was a good friend, but Alex was… more for Puck.
When did Alex become more?
Puck shook it off and finished his shift at the store, getting something from the café from dinner using his discount before heading back to Brooklyn to Tyler’s apartment for rehearsal.
“How’s your boy?” Tyler asked as he and Puck tuned their guitars.
“Not so good,” Puck admitted. “A good friend of his died the other day, and he spent all of his money to get him cremated so he wouldn’t end up at Potter’s Field.”
“Dude, that’s rough,” Jimmy, the drummer said, leaning over his kit, sticks loose in his hands.
“And now that he doesn’t have the money to pay for rent, he’s homeless again.”
“Shit,” Duane, their fourth band mate replied, his guitar hanging against his back as he absently played a few notes on the keyboard.
“The thing is, Thomas is leaving to move in with his girlfriend - that he got pregnant - ”
“But that’s perfect,” Tyler pointed out. “Thomas is out; your boy’s in there.”
Puck shook his head. “He won’t do it.”
“Why not? He needs a place to live; you need a roommate.”
Puck looked at Duane. “Alex is like that horse in that movie you made me watch, where he’s ready to run every time someone gets too close. We’ve just gotten to the point where he sleeps over on the sofa every once in a while, and he looks guilty for that.”
“I swear, your life is like a fucking soap opera,” Jimmy said.
“So what’re you gonna do?” Duane asked.
“Mercedes and I have to sit down and come up with a plan,” Puck said. “It’s just kind of hard with our schedules, and all of this just happened. I figured we could let him stay on the sofa temporarily,” he used his hands to make air quotes around temporarily, “and maybe just slowly turn him into our roommate.”
Tyler laughed. “Leave it to you to sneak someone as a roommate without them knowing it.”
Puck grinned. “What can I say? I got skills.”
The rest of the practice went really well, and Puck made sure they were out early enough for him to get to where he needed to go.
“See you later, Puck. Guys, you ready?” Tyler asked.
Puck stopped, frowning. “Where’re you guys going?”
“To the bar.” Duane tilted his head down the block.
“I’m not invited?”
“Dude, you haven’t been interested in going out since you started hanging out with your boy.”
“That’s not…” Puck frowned, realizing for the first time that it was true.
Tyler patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I mean, I never thought you’d be the first one to get tied down, but okay.”
“I’m not tied down,” Puck insisted. Weakly.
“Bless your heart,” Duane said, patting Puck on the cheek before looking at the others. “Bless his heart.”
“Bless your heart,” the others repeated, laughing as they headed down the sidewalk.
Knowing that he had other, more important things to do, Puck pushed the thought aside and texted Mercedes as he headed to the metro station.
A few seconds later, his phone rang. “Where are you?”
“We just finished. Where’re you?”
“I just got home,” Mercedes said. “How’re we gonna play this?”
“I figured that tonight, I’d just bring him home, let him sleep on the sofa.”
“What about tomorrow and the night after that?”
“One day at a time, Aretha. Maybe if we just keep doing it day by day, he won’t notice he’s become our roommate until it’s too late to make a stink about it.”
“You think he’d go for that?” Mercedes’ voice was doubtful.
“It’s amazing how far we’re willing to delude ourselves sometimes,” Puck said, thinking of past mistakes.
“He has so much pride,” Mercedes said.
“We’ve been playing this whole thing as it comes,” Puck reminded her, “and look at how far we’ve come.”
“True,” Mercedes sighed. “Should I get the sofa ready for him?”
“Let’s not act like we have it planned. Are the blanket and pillow still on the sofa from last night?”
“Yep.”
“Keep them there. It’ll just look like we didn’t have time to put them away.”
After a pause, Mercedes said, “I walked into Thomas’ room. It’s so empty that it’d have an echo if it didn’t still have a bed.”
“He left the bed?” Puck asked, wondering if there were any way they could talk Alex into sleeping in there.
“He’s not gonna do it,” Mercedes warned, totally reading his mind. “The sofa’s one thing; the bed in his own bedroom? Not a chance.”
“Yeah,” Puck admitted. “I’m at the station; we’ll see you soon.”
“Good luck,” Mercedes said before they said their goodbyes, and Puck headed down the stairs.
He managed to make it just in time, propping himself against the side of the restaurant as the door opened and the closing staff walked out. Everyone recognized his face after all the times he’d been around, so they nodded as they went their separate ways.
“Hey,” Puck said, watching Alex struggle with a cardboard box. He reached for the box. “Need some help?”
“I got it.” Alex said, jerking the box to the side, almost losing the small rolled carpet listing to the side.
Uncertain as to Alex’s reaction, he remained calm, made sure his voice was patient as he pulled out the carpet. “This should make it easier.”
“Thanks,” Alex said, his voice quiet and apologetic.
“Let’s go.” Puck turned toward the subway, hoping Alex would just step along with him. He’d only walked a few steps, realizing that Alex hadn’t moved, so he retraced his steps. “Problem?”
“I’m not a charity case,” Alex said.
“Ummm, good for you?” Puck asked, deliberately misunderstanding.
“I can’t just… just stay with you.”
“It’s one night,” Puck said, “you can figure out something tomorrow.” Alex still looked uncertain. Puck knew Alex wanted to come home with him, but he needed a reason that didn’t make him feel like he was pushing himself off on his friends. “Look,” Puck said. “If Mercedes or I needed a place to stay, and you had one, would you let us crash on your sofa?”
Alex nodded.
“So then why can’t we do the same thing for you?” Puck leaned a little closer to Alex, gratified when Alex didn’t lean away. “It’s what friends do for each other.” Taking a step back, Puck turned back toward the subway. “Now move your ass. It’s cold, and it’s late.”
They were just getting ready to turn the corner when two guys in jean jackets and hoodies ran toward them, one with a gun.
“Give us your money,” the guy with the gun said, and Puck’s heart stopped. His first thought was not to look closely at their faces, figuring they’d be less likely to shoot him if they knew he couldn’t identify them.
Hands up, he slowly reached for his back pocket to take out his wallet. The guy without the gun grabbed it and tried to take it, but it was chained to Puck’s pants. “Wait! I have to -”
A cry of pain grabbed his attention, and he turned to see Alex fighting with the guy with the gun.
“Alex!” Puck shouted as his friend wrestled with the man’s gun arm. A movement to his side reminded him of the other guy, and he managed to kick the guy in the junk and punch him in the face a few times before turning to find the other guy howling, clutching his bleeding face with both hands.
“You’re crazy!” The guy said, turning and running away.
The guy on the ground beside Puck pulled himself up and limped after his friend, bent over and groaning as he left.
Alex turned to face Puck, and Puck saw the blood running down his face. He ran up, taking Alex’s face in his hands, his heart pounding so hard he heard it in his ears. He couldn’t lose Alex, not now. “Where’re you hurt?”
Alex opened his mouth, and Puck saw something shiny between his teeth. Reaching up between them, Alex pulled the object out of his mouth, and Puck could see that it was a razor blade. Puck breathed a sigh of relief but wasn’t convinced that Alex wasn’t hurt. Pushing him away, Puck looked Alex up and down, his hands on Alex’s shoulders. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m good,” Alex said, holding up his other hand, and Puck saw a large piece of glass. Alex looked at it for a second before wiping it on his pants, repeating the process with the razorblade. He shoved the razor inside his front left pocket and slid the glass inside the sleeve of his right sleeve.
“What… what was that?” Puck asked, still trying to catch his breath.
Alex shrugged, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve, and Park marveled at how calm he seemed. “They probably thought we had something of value in the box.” He chuckled. “How little they know.” He bent down, throwing the gun in the box he’d dropped before picking it back up. Turning toward Puck he asked, “You’re okay, right?”
“If I can find my heart from when it leaped out of my chest, yes,” Puck said, huffing a laugh. He picked up the carpet and threw his free arm around Alex’s shoulders. “You, my friend, are a true BAMF.”
As they stood in the surprisingly full car, Puck stared at Alex, seeing him in a totally different light. His focus outside, Alex wasn’t paying attention, so Puck could look his fill. He’d changed since the first time they’d run into each other at Momma Cass’. For one thing, his hair had grown, although it was still way too short for Puck’s liking. He’d filled out a little too, and he didn’t seem… fragile anymore. In fact, Puck thought as he watched people move around Alex as they stepped onto the platform, Alex wasn’t invisible anymore.
He thought about what had just happened, impressed that not only had Alex not wet himself, but he’d taken on the guy with the gun without a word and ended up scaring the guy away without speaking a word or, it seemed, even getting out of breath. Puck wondered if Kurt had been through something like that before, and he decided that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He was just thankful that they were safe.
He wondered what Alex was gonna do with the gun.
Chapter 15: All Roads Lead to Marcel
Entry with links to each chapter