Fic: Higher Education, 14/?
Title: Higher Education, 14/?
Author: knittycat99
Rating: R for languange, mild sexual content, and mild homophobic language
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt
Genre: Romance, Angst
Warning: AU, futurefic
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: The boys belong to Fox. I've taken lots of liberties again with Noah's job and training situation.
Author Notes: Thanks for waiting for this part. I'd hoped to get it out earlier, but real life kicked me to the curb this week. Here's to hoping for a better week coming up.
Summary: What the boys do for their summer vacation
Word Count: 3,767
And the stones in the road leave a mark from whence they came.
A thousand points of light or shame, baby, I don't know.
-Mary Chapin Carpenter
Junior July and August, Boston and Lima
Noah found out he wasn’t going to be able to take Fourth of July week off like he had planned. It had nothing to do with his work schedule and everything to do with the fact that he had finally worked enough hours as an EMT-II to start working on the classes and clinical hours for his paramedic’s certification. He could take the intensive class in July and August, and not only would the city pay for it, once he passed he’d be able to get academic credit through the university. Which meant that he didn’t have to take a second summer class. It was a good thing all around, he told Kurt that night over dinner.
“It means that the worst of the crazy will be over and done with while you’re hanging out in Lima, and then I’ll be able to come out like we had planned for that last week in August and then we’ll fly back together.”
“It also means that you won’t be able to go out there at the beginning of the trip with me,” Kurt kind-of snapped at him while poking holes in a broccoli stalk with his fork.
“I know. And I’m sorry about that. But the paramedic thing? It’ll make things so much better. Even if I can’t get promoted right away, it’ll give me a leg up for a new job if we move next year. You know, for your grad school.”
Kurt just stared at him. Okay, so maybe mentioning grad school hadn’t been his best idea. “Forget grad school,” he finally said into the silence. “If we decide at some point to leave Boston, being medic certified will be a good thing for me. And getting it out of the way while you’re out of town will be good. For you, I mean. So you won’t have to worry about me when I’m in class or working. Because I know you do. Worry about me.” Shit. None of this was coming out the way he meant it. He really needed to stop talking.
“You’re a big boy. You can take care of yourself. And you’re right. If I were here, with nothing to do, I’d be bored. If I’m in Lima I can see friends, and help my dad at the garage. But . . .”
“But what?”
“It’s silly.”
“What is?”
“I’m kind of afraid to go home alone. Because all anyone is going to want to talk about is the wedding, and why we did it the way we did, and does it feel different, and all of that. And I don’t want to deal with it. It was our choice, and we did it the way we wanted, when and why we wanted to, and no, it really doesn’t feel any fucking different.”
“Except now I can cover you on my health insurance,” Noah said around a mouthful of chicken breast.
“There is that.”
“See, even when you’re pissed off I can still make you laugh.”
“I’m not pissed off. Just disappointed. And not at you, before you think that. It’s circumstance, and it sucks.”
*****
It just seemed wrong to Kurt, unpacking the detritus of your adult life into your childhood bedroom. That’s where his dad found him as he pondered some kind-of unfortunate high school fashion choices that were stuffed in the back of his closet.
“Hey, kid.”
He watched his dad, shuffling in the open doorway, kind of hovering but not wanting to intrude. “Do you want something, Dad?”
He wasn’t expecting what he got, which was his dad crossing the room and crushing him into a hug. When he was finally released, his dad motioned to him to sit next to him on the bed. “Come sit, and talk with me a minute.”
“O-okay.”
“I haven’t had you here in so long. Humor your old man, okay?”
Kurt sat, crossing his legs under him.
“Are you okay? Are things going alright? Is Noah treating you okay, ‘cause if he’s not I’ll break his legs.”
“Dad. It’s fine.”
“I’m just asking because he was supposed to come with you, and you seem . . . annoyed. Or something. You don’t seem right, in any case, and I know you guys got married and all, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“We’re fine. It’s just, he had this opportunity come up to take the classes he needs for his Paramedic certification, to do it in an intensive, and there are at least twenty reasons why it’s a good thing, reasons that start with the city paying for it and getting academic credit for school, and end with the certification being something he can take with him if we end up moving after graduation. He wanted to be here with me. We wanted to be here together. But I wasn’t going to ask him to turn this down. It makes this time hard, but it will make life after this time so, so much better.” And it would. Kurt wasn’t lying. He’d lived through certification classes before, and it was hell. Long hours in class, longer hours doing ride-alongs and ER clinicals, and all of it on top of Noah’s regular classes and work.
“Are you sure?”
“Actually, I am. I’m sad that he’s there and I’m here. I can’t lie about that. But he’ll be out at the end of August. It’ll be okay.”
“You know, I’m really proud of you. You’re growing into the kind of man I’d always hoped you’d be. I wish that Carol and I could have gotten out there for the wedding, but we understood why you wanted it the way you did. And despite what I know you think, I’m not mad at you for not waiting. When things are right, there’s nothing wrong with taking that step. You and Noah are the same age your mom and I were when we got married, and I never, ever regretted doing it young.”
“You’ve just always seemed sad to me, though, like there was more you wanted for your life before Mom. And me. And me being gay.”
His dad actually looked like he had broken. He grabbed Kurt again and pulled him close. “Don’t you ever think that. God, Kurt. I had so little time with your mom, and I feel like I wasted so much time with you. But don’t ever think that your being gay was a disappointment to me. It hasn’t always been a situation I would have picked for you, but you’ve become so strong because of it. And I’m so proud of you for living your life honestly and openly.”
“I feel like I should be too old to need to hear you say that.”
“Kurt, you’ll never be too old for me to be proud of you.”
*****
Kurt kept running into people in the weirdest places. First it was Mike Chang at The Lima Bean. Then Quinn at the Rec Center pool. Tina at Walgreens. But nothing beat literally walking into Mr. Schue in the produce aisle at Safeway. He had kept up with all of the Glee kids, but hadn’t spared Mr. Schue a second thought, really, since getting to college. He knew that Noah had been friendly with him for a while, but after Noah moved out of Lima, they just hadn’t kept in contact.
“Kurt?” Mr. Schue sounded surprised. Whether that was at Kurt’s presence in Lima or his attire (khaki shorts and a Boston EMS t-shirt), he couldn’t be sure, but he turned away from the bananas and smiled at him.
“Mr. Schue. Fancy meeting you here.”
“How are you? Are you all done with school?”
“No. I have one more year. I’m in a five year program.”
“That’s right. Northeastern University?”
“Yeah.”
“Did I hear through the grapevine that Puck moved to Boston as well?”
“Yes. Noah moved out there coming up on three years ago now.”
“You see him a lot?”
Crap. Mr. Schue must not have been in touch with anyone from New Directions.
“Um. Kind of. Look, I’d love to catch up, but could we do it over coffee? This really isn’t the place to have this conversation.”
“I’d like that. Are you busy tonight? 7 at the Lima Bean?”
“Sure.”
And that was how Kurt ended up sipping an iced latte while sharing a table with Mr. Schue. He was having fun watching the high school girl behind the counter making gooey eyes in Mr. Schue’s direction. “Is she one of yours?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Unwanted advances?”
“If only. The unfortunate part of it is that she’s terrible at Spanish. She keeps looking at me like that even though I made her repeat the class in summer school.”
“Oh.”
“I take it Boston is treating you well.”
“It was a really good fit. I never thanked you for that, for helping with the college process.”
“I just wanted so much for all of you.”
“I like to think we’re living up to the challenge. Do you keep up with anyone from Glee?”
Mr. Schue looked kind of ashamed. “Not really. I did with Pu- Noah- for a while, but it got hard after he moved. The last I heard, Rachel was killing it at Tisch and Finn was getting along at Ohio State.”
“Oh, Mr. Schue, you’ve missed so much.”
“Please, Kurt, I’m not your teacher anymore. Call me Will.”
“Okay. Um. Will.” The name felt funny in his mouth. “Let’s see. Most of the gang graduated in May. Rachel’s making the rounds of auditions, and is paying her way by teaching singing to the private-school set in Manhattan. Tina’s going to Brown in the fall for a Master’s in Teaching. She wants to be a History teacher. Mike’s heading to Japan to teach English. Quinn’s doing something with finance. Artie’s going to CalTech for an Engineering Master’s. Brittany got a degree in Early Childhood Ed, and a job teaching preschool in Denver. Santana majored in Sociology; she had some connections somewhere, and scored an entry-level job with some government agency. Lauren is going to law school at Berkeley. Sam has another semester at Penn State. In his last email, he talked about taking off on a road trip after he finished, checking out the surfing at some of our nation’s finer beaches. Mercedes is waiting tables and trying to break out her singing and songwriting. She’s exhausted but happy. Finn has one more semester at Ohio State. He’s talking about proposing to his girlfriend.” He shook his head. It seemed so trite, distilling all their struggles and brief successes down to a list like that.
“And you?”
“Psychology. My focus is on child and adolescent development. I’m probably going to end up doing educational or counseling psych in grad school.”
“And you see Noah a lot?”
“Kind of.” Will had clearly been living under a rock if he hadn’t heard anything. “He’ll finish UMass Boston in May with a Biology degree. He’s working on his paramedic certification.”
“He’s happy?”
“Yes.” Kurt looked down at his hands, loose around his plastic cup; he wore the Celtic ring on his right hand, and his wedding band, the same hammered silver as Noah’s, circled his left ring finger. Will’s eyes followed his own, and settled on the scrollwork on the Celtic ring.
“That’s lovely.”
“It’s my engagement ring.”
“I didn’t know you had someone.”
Hold onto your sweater vest, Will Schuester. “I do. It’s Noah, actually. We’ve been together three years, and were married in June.”
“Oh, Kurt! I had no idea! Congratulations.”
Kurt was kind of surprised to see that Will’s good tidings were genuine. They had never been easy around each other the way Will had been with the others, even after Kurt’s return to McKinley. “I’m so happy that you found each other. I always had the sense that Noah was struggling with something, I just couldn’t quite figure it out.”
“Yeah. Well.” Kurt was feeling really awkward, like he’d said too much for the degree of intimacy he and Will had never shared, but he pressed on anyway. “It surprised me, too, but things are going really well.” They were interrupted by the bleating of Will’s cell.
“Shit. I-“
“Where’s the fire?”
“Summer Glee rehearsal. The kids all have jobs, so we have to practice late. You should come with.”
“Thanks, but no.”
“Really? It would be fun. You could meet the kids, talk to them about life after Glee.”
And tell them what? That being a grownup sucked, and that sometimes coming home was harder than leaving ever was, and that leaving Lima and reinventing yourself didn’t solve any of the things about yourself that you hated; it only made you hate yourself more for lying to everyone. And that sometimes, the best thing that happened to you came from the place that had tried to break you. Those kids didn’t want to hear the truth. They wanted romance and stories about best friends and skipping class to watch soaps, and breakfast in your pajamas. They wanted shiny popular lives, and Kurt didn’t have the heart to shatter those dreams. In his reality, shiny was the little apartment and the secondhand couch, his music mingling with Noah’s. It was laundry and cooking, sharing fare cards for the T, and texts about whose turn it was to stop for milk and condoms. It was working hard and building a life, and morning sex if they both had Sunday off. It was everything, and it was nothing at all. And he just didn’t know how to communicate that. His face must have said it all, though, because Will interrupted his thoughts.
“We rehearse every Tuesday and Thursday from 8:30-10 in the choir room. Stop by some night. If only to show off as one of the kids who won Nationals, okay?”
“I’ll think about it,” he said into his latte.
“Please do.”
Will’s hand was heavy and warm on his shoulder, the kind of gesture that would have shocked Kurt when he was 17 but seemed normal in this new, pseudo-adult world of his. It felt wistful, like a relic of a past life, a hazy half-memory of something that had not quite happened. It was sad. It was, Kurt knew, Will’s way of wishing him well and of saying goodbye, because they both knew that Kurt wouldn’t be stopping by Glee rehearsal any time soon.
*****
Noah could hear the loneliness and fatigue in Kurt’s voice, felt it echoed in his own. With two weeks left, and the worst of his class yet to go, he was thinking that maybe this whole extended time apart thing hasn’t been anyone’s best idea. But there was nothing they could do about it now except soldier on. They were almost done.
“You should do something fun this weekend,” Kurt told him over Skype on the fourth Friday night. “Call Lily. Go out dancing or something.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Lily was in Noah’s class; they had bonded that first day after Noah had recognized something Midwestern in her words as they talked over their resuscitation dummy, something odd in this land of pahk the cah. She worked out of a station in South Boston, looked like she kicked ass and took names on a daily basis, and treated Noah like he was her long-lost younger brother. He didn’t care about any of that. It was just nice to have a new friend. “Going dancing isn’t as fun without you.”
“Still. Just do something. Get out of your head.”
Noah was pretty sure that “getting out of his head” hadn’t meant being lined up at bar in Southie, going shot for shot with Lily and the guys from her house. It certainly hadn’t meant throwing a punch when one of the guys in the bar called him fucking faggot after overhearing him telling Lily about Kurt. And it definitely hadn’t meant stumbling home in a haze of bad booze and unshed, heartbroken tears, hand aching and stomach roiling. He wanted to call Kurt, to tell him how much he loved him and how he’d never felt as exposed as he had in those silent moments in the bar, the man’s accusation hanging in the air. He wondered if that’s how Kurt always felt as he waited for action to follow words, losing a little more of himself as he tried to pretend that the same tired insult didn’t sting as much now as it had the very first time.
He wanted to call Kurt, but didn’t. He didn’t want to wake him or worry him. Rehashing it would do no good. It was over, and it had changed him. He just needed to shut it away and get on with things, focus on finishing class and getting out to Lima. He let all his need and want and fear wash away under the hot spray of the shower. And then he closed himself off behind his uniform, behind Puck and Badass and went to work.
*****
The Noah who fell into Kurt’s arms in baggage claim wasn’t the Noah he’d left six weeks ago. His face was hard behind a mask of something that looked like pain. His eyes were dark and empty. When Kurt held him, he could feel muscles tense. And yet, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he gathered the luggage and directed Noah to his dad’s car. Only after they were settled in for the drive, air conditioner blasting and radio silent, did he ask “What happened? And don’t you dare tell me nothing. It was that night you went dancing with Lily, wasn’t it? And don’t ask me how I know. You sounded different on the phone.”
“I just, there was this guy at the bar.”
“And?”
“He called me a fucking faggot. And then I punched him.”
“Oh, Noah.” His heart broke just a little. He’d been living with the teasing and the slurs for so much of his life that he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t heard them. He had built up a thick skin because he’d had no choice. Noah had no such defense, so he had clearly done the only thing he knew to preserve himself: he’d gone back to being bad boy Puck. Kurt reached over and took his hand gently. “I’m sorry. Sorry that you had to hear that, and that I wasn’t there with you.”
“What were you going to do?”
“Talk you down, for starters. Hold you and let you cry. And then tell you what to do the next time it happens. Because believe me, there is always a next time.”
“And what do you do?”
“Well. Let’s see. 12 year old me developed that little persona that became known as ‘ice queen bitch’. Your Badass Puck is a pretty good option, too. What you have to remember is that your fear or hurt or anger is what gives them power. If you look through them, act like you’re better than they are, they get nothing from it and come off looking stupid. It hurts, don’t get me wrong. It always hurts. But that’s why you have a shell; it protects you from the hurt until you’re somewhere safe. And the most important part is to never, ever let them see you cry.”
“And what? You just forget like it ever happened?”
“No. Not the first time. You’ll always remember the first time, because it’s like it takes your innocence. My first was the dad of this boy on my street. We used to play together all the time in elementary school, tea parties and house and dress up. He was a kind of quiet boy, shy. He liked to read. I don’t think he was gay, just, well, my dad always called him sensitive. Anyway, one day I was leaving his house and I heard his dad talking to his mom in their kitchen. He said ‘I don’t want my boy playing with that little queer.’ I had no idea what he meant, but I knew like I know my own reflection that it was a bad thing. I never went over there again.”
“How old were you?”
“Seven.” He heard Noah gasp in a breath. “No. Don’t you dare feel bad. Another person’s homophobia is not something we can control. It’s a terrible thing, and it’s meant to break you down. But you can’t let that happen. If that happens, they win. And then where will we be?”
“How did you get to be so accepting?” Noah leaned his head back against the headrest.
“I’m not accepting. Frankly, it pisses me off. And if I’d been there, I’d probably have taken a swing at the asshole too.”
“I’d pay money to see that.”
“Hey, I’m pretty good. My dad taught me, when I first started getting hassled at school.”
Noah breathed a half-laugh. “So what? I just become Puck every day when I leave the house?”
“No. You’ll start to learn where your safe places are. Wear Puck as much as you need him, but please, let him go when you come home. Because the Noah I love doesn’t need that mask with me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
They sat in silence, watching cars and road signs and late-summer fireflies flickering along the roadside.
“Kurt?”
“Yeah?”
“I really missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
*****
Kurt had spent the better part of the summer agonizing about what would happen after graduation. But that night, wrapped in Noah’s arms as the soft scent of Ohio summer wafted through his open bedroom window, he had all the answers he needed. His home was where Noah was. It didn’t matter if it was their apartment, or his old bedroom in his father’s house. It could be Boston or Ohio, or anywhere in between. As long as he had Noah in his bed at night, everything would be alright.
“I can hear you thinking.” Noah’s voice was gritty and muffled in Kurt’s hair. “Stop it.”
“You can’t.”
“I can. I haven’t been able to do this-” Kurt squirmed as Noah kissed the side of his neck “-in six weeks. We have a lot of catching up to do, and the talking part can wait until morning.”
“But-“
“As long as you promise to always come home to me, the talking part can wait until morning.”
“I promise,” Kurt said into Noah’s waiting mouth.
“Tell me again.” Noah was pressed against him, heavy and hard and breathless.
“I promise.” And then he was gone.