Fic: If It's Not Rough, It Isn't Fun Part 3b /?
Part 3a
Noah jiggled his leg and looked at his phone again. Kurt hadn't been in school all day.
It had been a month since they'd begun… whatever it was they had. And Puck couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy. Kurt was eager and fun, and Puck looked forward to the after-sex conversation almost as much as the deed itself. But Kurt hadn't been in school that day and Puck was worried. He'd heard Karofski telling Azimio in the locker room that he missed tossing Kurt in the dumpster. Maybe they'd done something to him.
He knew that if anyone knew where Kurt was it'd be Mercedes. But the brassy hag had made it pretty damn clear she didn't approve of his and Kurt's arrangement. Puck glanced at the clock. Fuck it. He fired off a text to Aretha.
Hey u seen kurt 2day?
After a moment his phone starting singing like Adam Lambert (so Kurt had gotten a hold of his phone, it didn't mean anything!).
He's sick dumbass. The flu. Leave him alone or your balls are mine.
Puck thought for a moment.
Can I take his homework 2 him?
Mercedes didn't respond for a long time. Puck was about to put his phone away when it sang again.
Fuck with him and I'll kill you. Meet me outside after school. I'll give you his work.
Puck smiled.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Aretha had been less than friendly, but she'd simply pursed her lips and handed Puck a sheaf of papers. "His grades are important to him," she'd said tightly. "Don't fuck it up."
Puck headed to Kurt's house, but half-way there he turned around and headed to his own. "Hey Mom!" he called.
"Yes, honey?" She was in the kitchen.
"My… friend is sick," Puck said. He dropped his backpack on the table and grabbed a cookie off the plate on the counter. "What kind of food do you give sick people?"
His mother turned from the stove. She stared at him silently for a moment.
"What?" he asked, confused.
"Never once have you brought a sick friend food," she said, her expression wary. "Noah, I love you, but you're not the most considerate person in the world."
"So you're saying I'm a dick?"
His mom shrugged. "If the slur fits…"
"Dude!" Puck exclaimed. "I can't believe my mom just called me a dick!"
She stuck her tongue out at him. "I stand by my assessment."
Puck laughed. "I'm serious Mom, what do I bring him?"
She smiled and took pity on him. "It just so happens your sister is sick, too. I've got a fresh batch of homemade chicken noodle soup. I'll fix you up a bowl to take to…?"
"Kurt," Puck supplied, grabbing another cookie. "Kurt Hummel." He froze with a bite half-chewed in his mouth. He had no idea why he'd told her that. His mother had never known the name of a single girl he'd dated, let alone people he just fucked.
Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice his dismay. She rummaged around in the cupboards until she found a Tupperware bowl. Filling it with the steaming soup, she handed it back and said, "Tell him I wish him well."
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I will." Puck grabbed the bowl from his mother's hands and ran to his truck.
He arrived at the Hummel's place a few minutes later. Kurt's dad obviously wasn't home. Puck let himself in and headed downstairs. The sight before him made him stop in his tracks.
Kurt was curled up on the couch, a large white down comforter wrapped around him. His hair stuck up on one side. He was pale and his eyes were bloodshot, his nose red and puffy. He was staring glassy-eyed at the TV, where a Queer Eye marathon was running. It was the most pathetic sight Puck had ever seen. And all he wanted to do was curl up next to Kurt and hold him.
Puck cleared his throat. Kurt's eyes wandered slowly over in his direction. "Sorry," the boy said, his voice stuffed up and nasally, "I'm in no shape to satisfy your libido today, Puck."
Puck smiled. "I know. I brought you soup." Stepping into the room, he placed the bowl on the coffee table.
Kurt looked up at him, disbelief clear behind the fever-glaze. "Really? Why?"
Puck shrugged. "Well, you're sick. And I figure the sooner you get better, the sooner we can go back to… satisfying my libido. And my mom said chicken soup helps." Puck congratulated himself. It sounded oh-so-reasonable. Too bad it wasn't true. Not the whole truth, anyway. There was more to it, he knew there was, but he was very carefully not examining what that could be.
Kurt seemed so surprised that Puck actually felt momentarily hurt. A month of fooling around and Kurt still thought of him as an asshole? Puck swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Scoot over."
Kurt did, and Puck joined him on the couch. He drew the boy close and wrapped the blanket around them. Kurt sat stiffly next to him. "What're we watching?" Puck tried to sound casual.
"Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," Kurt responded. "But… there's a Mythbusters marathon on, too."
"That'd be cool." Kurt changed the station and relaxed against Puck. Puck leaned forward and buried his nose in Kurt's hair. He smelled like mint and herbs.
The chicken soup sat forgotten as the two sat wrapped around each other. They laughed at Adam and Jamie's antics and clapped at the explosions. They fell silent after about two hours, and something warm fluttered in Puck's chest when Kurt made a sweet little huffing noise and snuggled closer to him. Looking down, he realized Kurt was asleep. The thing in chest grew, hot and bright, and the lump in his throat came back. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on Kurt's temple. It occurred to him that he'd never actually kissed Kurt before. He wasn't sure why; after all, those lips were amazing.
"Hey, Kurt?"
Oh. Shit.
The voice filtering down the stairs was Finn's. Puck cursed and jumped up. "Wha -?" Kurt began sleepily.
"I gotta go." Puck grabbed his jacket and backpack.
"But -!" Kurt began, but Puck was already sliding up through the window.
Puck ran off towards his truck, ignoring the soft voice behind him. Panic was setting in. What the hell was he doing?
Stopping at his truck, he hopped in and slammed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he laid his forehead on the wheel. Puck had never done anything nice for someone without expecting anything back. But he'd gone to Kurt with no other thought than to make him feel better.
He needed advice. But he only knew one person he could talk to about it. He just hoped he wouldn't lose any limbs when he asked.
Part 4
Noah jiggled his leg and looked at his phone again. Kurt hadn't been in school all day.
It had been a month since they'd begun… whatever it was they had. And Puck couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy. Kurt was eager and fun, and Puck looked forward to the after-sex conversation almost as much as the deed itself. But Kurt hadn't been in school that day and Puck was worried. He'd heard Karofski telling Azimio in the locker room that he missed tossing Kurt in the dumpster. Maybe they'd done something to him.
He knew that if anyone knew where Kurt was it'd be Mercedes. But the brassy hag had made it pretty damn clear she didn't approve of his and Kurt's arrangement. Puck glanced at the clock. Fuck it. He fired off a text to Aretha.
Hey u seen kurt 2day?
After a moment his phone starting singing like Adam Lambert (so Kurt had gotten a hold of his phone, it didn't mean anything!).
He's sick dumbass. The flu. Leave him alone or your balls are mine.
Puck thought for a moment.
Can I take his homework 2 him?
Mercedes didn't respond for a long time. Puck was about to put his phone away when it sang again.
Fuck with him and I'll kill you. Meet me outside after school. I'll give you his work.
Puck smiled.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Aretha had been less than friendly, but she'd simply pursed her lips and handed Puck a sheaf of papers. "His grades are important to him," she'd said tightly. "Don't fuck it up."
Puck headed to Kurt's house, but half-way there he turned around and headed to his own. "Hey Mom!" he called.
"Yes, honey?" She was in the kitchen.
"My… friend is sick," Puck said. He dropped his backpack on the table and grabbed a cookie off the plate on the counter. "What kind of food do you give sick people?"
His mother turned from the stove. She stared at him silently for a moment.
"What?" he asked, confused.
"Never once have you brought a sick friend food," she said, her expression wary. "Noah, I love you, but you're not the most considerate person in the world."
"So you're saying I'm a dick?"
His mom shrugged. "If the slur fits…"
"Dude!" Puck exclaimed. "I can't believe my mom just called me a dick!"
She stuck her tongue out at him. "I stand by my assessment."
Puck laughed. "I'm serious Mom, what do I bring him?"
She smiled and took pity on him. "It just so happens your sister is sick, too. I've got a fresh batch of homemade chicken noodle soup. I'll fix you up a bowl to take to…?"
"Kurt," Puck supplied, grabbing another cookie. "Kurt Hummel." He froze with a bite half-chewed in his mouth. He had no idea why he'd told her that. His mother had never known the name of a single girl he'd dated, let alone people he just fucked.
Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice his dismay. She rummaged around in the cupboards until she found a Tupperware bowl. Filling it with the steaming soup, she handed it back and said, "Tell him I wish him well."
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I will." Puck grabbed the bowl from his mother's hands and ran to his truck.
He arrived at the Hummel's place a few minutes later. Kurt's dad obviously wasn't home. Puck let himself in and headed downstairs. The sight before him made him stop in his tracks.
Kurt was curled up on the couch, a large white down comforter wrapped around him. His hair stuck up on one side. He was pale and his eyes were bloodshot, his nose red and puffy. He was staring glassy-eyed at the TV, where a Queer Eye marathon was running. It was the most pathetic sight Puck had ever seen. And all he wanted to do was curl up next to Kurt and hold him.
Puck cleared his throat. Kurt's eyes wandered slowly over in his direction. "Sorry," the boy said, his voice stuffed up and nasally, "I'm in no shape to satisfy your libido today, Puck."
Puck smiled. "I know. I brought you soup." Stepping into the room, he placed the bowl on the coffee table.
Kurt looked up at him, disbelief clear behind the fever-glaze. "Really? Why?"
Puck shrugged. "Well, you're sick. And I figure the sooner you get better, the sooner we can go back to… satisfying my libido. And my mom said chicken soup helps." Puck congratulated himself. It sounded oh-so-reasonable. Too bad it wasn't true. Not the whole truth, anyway. There was more to it, he knew there was, but he was very carefully not examining what that could be.
Kurt seemed so surprised that Puck actually felt momentarily hurt. A month of fooling around and Kurt still thought of him as an asshole? Puck swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Scoot over."
Kurt did, and Puck joined him on the couch. He drew the boy close and wrapped the blanket around them. Kurt sat stiffly next to him. "What're we watching?" Puck tried to sound casual.
"Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," Kurt responded. "But… there's a Mythbusters marathon on, too."
"That'd be cool." Kurt changed the station and relaxed against Puck. Puck leaned forward and buried his nose in Kurt's hair. He smelled like mint and herbs.
The chicken soup sat forgotten as the two sat wrapped around each other. They laughed at Adam and Jamie's antics and clapped at the explosions. They fell silent after about two hours, and something warm fluttered in Puck's chest when Kurt made a sweet little huffing noise and snuggled closer to him. Looking down, he realized Kurt was asleep. The thing in chest grew, hot and bright, and the lump in his throat came back. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on Kurt's temple. It occurred to him that he'd never actually kissed Kurt before. He wasn't sure why; after all, those lips were amazing.
"Hey, Kurt?"
Oh. Shit.
The voice filtering down the stairs was Finn's. Puck cursed and jumped up. "Wha -?" Kurt began sleepily.
"I gotta go." Puck grabbed his jacket and backpack.
"But -!" Kurt began, but Puck was already sliding up through the window.
Puck ran off towards his truck, ignoring the soft voice behind him. Panic was setting in. What the hell was he doing?
Stopping at his truck, he hopped in and slammed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he laid his forehead on the wheel. Puck had never done anything nice for someone without expecting anything back. But he'd gone to Kurt with no other thought than to make him feel better.
He needed advice. But he only knew one person he could talk to about it. He just hoped he wouldn't lose any limbs when he asked.
Part 4