Smile For The Camera!
Say Cheese!
Pairing/Characters: PucKurt
Genre: Fluff
Rating: T
Warning: Slash, Puck's language.
Disclaimer: If I were Ryan Murphy, Puck would harbour some sort of dumpster fetish, and be boning Kurt 24/7, and Blaine would be a convenient plot device to drive them closer together and create a little bit of drama. Sufficed to say, they don't belong to me.
A/N: Inspired by this prompt: Ok, so I just saw an icon and I had to leave this prompt: Photo booth fic! (No angst, please) Page. 54 of the PucKurt fic meme Round 1.
I
Puck lounged on a bench seat, sprawled comfortably as he waited for his boyfriend to finish the transaction to pay for his clothes, thumping his head against the backrest. His knee bobbed up and down at a rapid pace, fingers tapping at his thigh. Finally, finally, Kurt came out, immediately transferring half of the bags into Puck's hands and suggesting a trip to the food court when Puck's stomach growled loudly.
Puck threw his arm around Kurt's waist, sauntering to the escalator and bumping their hips together regardless of the looks they received due to it. He began to publicly display their budding 'relationship' (read: fuck buddies) not long after they got together, pushing Kurt against a locker and initiating a make out session in the hallways until Kurt forced him away to run to his class and arriving late. At first Kurt had pushed him away, hissing and protesting until he was red in the face and out of breath, giving Puck the perfect opening to swoop back in.
Kurt learned to stop questioning him and trying to hide the fact that they were somehow intimate.
Seeing a woman sneer at them from the other side of the escalator as she went up, Puck frowned and glared, then grinned as inspiration struck him. He turned and wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and pulled him close, smashing their lips together as she went by them. He heard her outraged yelp and Kurt's high squeak of surprise but ignored them both as he continued to work his magic until his boyfriend melting against him with a soft sigh.
“What was that for?” Kurt asked quietly as they pulled apart, spearmint scented breath washing over his face in small huffs. Puck shrugged, creating an intimidating atmosphere around them, silently daring any of the other people around them to comment as they stepped off the moving stairs.
“I can't make out with my boy when I want to?”
“No, no you can't,” Kurt said, pulling his arm away from Puck and putting his hands on his hips. “And you know that as well as I do.”
Puck glanced around, ignoring the countertenors complaints and snatched the thin wrist up again, dragging Kurt to the food court. “Meh, not like they can do anything about it.”
“Oh yeah?” Kurt asked with a laugh. “And why's that?”
“Baby, have you seen my guns?” Puck asked (“Stupid question Puckerman.”), flexing one plaid covered bicep. “There ain't no way anyone would attack with these bad boys on the loose.”
“It never quite fails to amaze me just how full of yourself you are Puck.”
“You love it,” Puck shot back absentmindedly, scoping out the food court for an ideal spot to sit. As he glanced around, something tucked unobtrusively in a corner caught his eye and a mischievous grin spread over his lips. Snatching Kurt's hand he dragged the smaller boy over to the photo booth, ignoring the token protestations.
“Puck, what the hell are you doing?!” Kurt demanded, glancing back longingly at the Cheesecake Factory and nearly tasting the rich creaminess mixed with chocolate and coconut on his tongue. “I want cheesecake.”
“Chill Hummel, this won't take too long.” Puck slid open the curtain and glared at the cutesy looking couple that were already there until they left, the man throwing his arms up and the woman huffing and pouting. They muttered back and forth as they walked away. Kurt listened with half an ear as she bitched at him about not being man enough and letting some random asshole toss them out of the booth.
“Really Puck?” Kurt asked, exasperated. Puck shrugged, dropping down onto the bench and beckoning Kurt to join him.
“C'mon babe, you know you wanna,” he taunted with a teasing grin, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Want to what?” Kurt asked, rolling his eyes. “Have photo booth sex?”
“Well, I was thinking some pictures, but sex could be good too.”
Kurt leveled an unamused stare at Puck, hands on his hips, before slipping into the free space beside the other teen. “Can your pea sized, neanderthal brain focus on nothing other than intercourse?”
“Geez baby, no need to be so bitchy,” Puck grumbled with a grin, fiddling with the machine and pushing in the appropriate amount of money and wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist. The lens focused and counted down. “Say cheese.”
“Cheesecake,” Kurt said, voice flat and glaring at the camera. The countdown began again and Puck fished for something to make Kurt react. He didn't want to be sitting next to a vindictive robot the entire time, after all.
“Come on Hummel, have some fun.” Puck snatched the white beret off the top of Kurt's head, holding it out of reach while Kurt scrambled to retrieve it, one hand on the broad shoulder. There was a click and a flash and the countdown began anew. When it did, Puck handed back the beret and initiated an impromptu make out session that lasted until the next photo was taken. Puck slid his tongue back into his own mouth and gently stroked the jean covered thigh that was draped over his own. “See babe? Isn't this fun?”
“Don't get too cocky Puckerman,” Kurt muttered, pressing there foreheads together and smiling, waiting for the click to sound and the flash to go off. When it did his eyes were open, a smile lingered on his lips and the two of them were pressed close as they stared at each other.
“One more Princess,” Puck stated quietly, lifting a hand to stroke the soft skin of Kurt's jaw. “Turn those baby blues to the front, yeah?”
“Fine, but only because you asked so nicely.” Kurt slid off his perch and sat next to Puck so that there thighs and legs were pressed flush together, wrapping his arms around Puck's waist and cuddled close, resting his head on the broad shoulder. Puck slung an arm around Kurt's shoulders in response, setting his cheek against Kurt's soft hair and facing forward. Both grinned as the countdown dwindled to one and then the click and flash went off. They remained posed for a moment, relaxing against each other, wide grins dimming to small, contented smiles.
“You know, I never thought I'd feel so comfortable in something that resembles monogamy,” Puck muttered, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes as he enjoyed the soft, tangy scent of fruit that lingered in Kurt's hair.
“Ooh, monogamy, big word,” Kurt teased, poking Puck's sensitive side and laughing at the instinctive jerk. “And whatever happened to never talking about feelings?”
“Bitch,” Puck muttered, pinching Kurt's rear in retaliation. He stood up, grabbing Kurt's hand and dragging him back out into the food court,snatching the two long strips of black and white photos on the way and handing one over. He ignored the two that had dropped to the ground, four slots filled and the last a picture of the back of the booth. “And things change...”
“Yes, yes they do.” Kurt looked at the thin line of pictures held in his free hand, tilting his head affectionately. “And I believe you owe me cheesecake.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait-”
“First rule of being a boyfriend Noah,” Kurt said, tone strict and no-nonsense, “is that lunch is your treat.”
“Fucking hell Kurt.”
He acquiesced, without much of a fight, in the end.
II
All done. :)
Pairing/Characters: PucKurt
Genre: Fluff
Rating: T
Warning: Slash, Puck's language.
Disclaimer: If I were Ryan Murphy, Puck would harbour some sort of dumpster fetish, and be boning Kurt 24/7, and Blaine would be a convenient plot device to drive them closer together and create a little bit of drama. Sufficed to say, they don't belong to me.
A/N: Inspired by this prompt: Ok, so I just saw an icon and I had to leave this prompt: Photo booth fic! (No angst, please) Page. 54 of the PucKurt fic meme Round 1.
I
Puck lounged on a bench seat, sprawled comfortably as he waited for his boyfriend to finish the transaction to pay for his clothes, thumping his head against the backrest. His knee bobbed up and down at a rapid pace, fingers tapping at his thigh. Finally, finally, Kurt came out, immediately transferring half of the bags into Puck's hands and suggesting a trip to the food court when Puck's stomach growled loudly.
Puck threw his arm around Kurt's waist, sauntering to the escalator and bumping their hips together regardless of the looks they received due to it. He began to publicly display their budding 'relationship' (read: fuck buddies) not long after they got together, pushing Kurt against a locker and initiating a make out session in the hallways until Kurt forced him away to run to his class and arriving late. At first Kurt had pushed him away, hissing and protesting until he was red in the face and out of breath, giving Puck the perfect opening to swoop back in.
Kurt learned to stop questioning him and trying to hide the fact that they were somehow intimate.
Seeing a woman sneer at them from the other side of the escalator as she went up, Puck frowned and glared, then grinned as inspiration struck him. He turned and wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and pulled him close, smashing their lips together as she went by them. He heard her outraged yelp and Kurt's high squeak of surprise but ignored them both as he continued to work his magic until his boyfriend melting against him with a soft sigh.
“What was that for?” Kurt asked quietly as they pulled apart, spearmint scented breath washing over his face in small huffs. Puck shrugged, creating an intimidating atmosphere around them, silently daring any of the other people around them to comment as they stepped off the moving stairs.
“I can't make out with my boy when I want to?”
“No, no you can't,” Kurt said, pulling his arm away from Puck and putting his hands on his hips. “And you know that as well as I do.”
Puck glanced around, ignoring the countertenors complaints and snatched the thin wrist up again, dragging Kurt to the food court. “Meh, not like they can do anything about it.”
“Oh yeah?” Kurt asked with a laugh. “And why's that?”
“Baby, have you seen my guns?” Puck asked (“Stupid question Puckerman.”), flexing one plaid covered bicep. “There ain't no way anyone would attack with these bad boys on the loose.”
“It never quite fails to amaze me just how full of yourself you are Puck.”
“You love it,” Puck shot back absentmindedly, scoping out the food court for an ideal spot to sit. As he glanced around, something tucked unobtrusively in a corner caught his eye and a mischievous grin spread over his lips. Snatching Kurt's hand he dragged the smaller boy over to the photo booth, ignoring the token protestations.
“Puck, what the hell are you doing?!” Kurt demanded, glancing back longingly at the Cheesecake Factory and nearly tasting the rich creaminess mixed with chocolate and coconut on his tongue. “I want cheesecake.”
“Chill Hummel, this won't take too long.” Puck slid open the curtain and glared at the cutesy looking couple that were already there until they left, the man throwing his arms up and the woman huffing and pouting. They muttered back and forth as they walked away. Kurt listened with half an ear as she bitched at him about not being man enough and letting some random asshole toss them out of the booth.
“Really Puck?” Kurt asked, exasperated. Puck shrugged, dropping down onto the bench and beckoning Kurt to join him.
“C'mon babe, you know you wanna,” he taunted with a teasing grin, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Want to what?” Kurt asked, rolling his eyes. “Have photo booth sex?”
“Well, I was thinking some pictures, but sex could be good too.”
Kurt leveled an unamused stare at Puck, hands on his hips, before slipping into the free space beside the other teen. “Can your pea sized, neanderthal brain focus on nothing other than intercourse?”
“Geez baby, no need to be so bitchy,” Puck grumbled with a grin, fiddling with the machine and pushing in the appropriate amount of money and wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist. The lens focused and counted down. “Say cheese.”
“Cheesecake,” Kurt said, voice flat and glaring at the camera. The countdown began again and Puck fished for something to make Kurt react. He didn't want to be sitting next to a vindictive robot the entire time, after all.
“Come on Hummel, have some fun.” Puck snatched the white beret off the top of Kurt's head, holding it out of reach while Kurt scrambled to retrieve it, one hand on the broad shoulder. There was a click and a flash and the countdown began anew. When it did, Puck handed back the beret and initiated an impromptu make out session that lasted until the next photo was taken. Puck slid his tongue back into his own mouth and gently stroked the jean covered thigh that was draped over his own. “See babe? Isn't this fun?”
“Don't get too cocky Puckerman,” Kurt muttered, pressing there foreheads together and smiling, waiting for the click to sound and the flash to go off. When it did his eyes were open, a smile lingered on his lips and the two of them were pressed close as they stared at each other.
“One more Princess,” Puck stated quietly, lifting a hand to stroke the soft skin of Kurt's jaw. “Turn those baby blues to the front, yeah?”
“Fine, but only because you asked so nicely.” Kurt slid off his perch and sat next to Puck so that there thighs and legs were pressed flush together, wrapping his arms around Puck's waist and cuddled close, resting his head on the broad shoulder. Puck slung an arm around Kurt's shoulders in response, setting his cheek against Kurt's soft hair and facing forward. Both grinned as the countdown dwindled to one and then the click and flash went off. They remained posed for a moment, relaxing against each other, wide grins dimming to small, contented smiles.
“You know, I never thought I'd feel so comfortable in something that resembles monogamy,” Puck muttered, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes as he enjoyed the soft, tangy scent of fruit that lingered in Kurt's hair.
“Ooh, monogamy, big word,” Kurt teased, poking Puck's sensitive side and laughing at the instinctive jerk. “And whatever happened to never talking about feelings?”
“Bitch,” Puck muttered, pinching Kurt's rear in retaliation. He stood up, grabbing Kurt's hand and dragging him back out into the food court,snatching the two long strips of black and white photos on the way and handing one over. He ignored the two that had dropped to the ground, four slots filled and the last a picture of the back of the booth. “And things change...”
“Yes, yes they do.” Kurt looked at the thin line of pictures held in his free hand, tilting his head affectionately. “And I believe you owe me cheesecake.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait-”
“First rule of being a boyfriend Noah,” Kurt said, tone strict and no-nonsense, “is that lunch is your treat.”
“Fucking hell Kurt.”
He acquiesced, without much of a fight, in the end.
II
All done. :)