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When the phone rings and he sees it’s from Brittany, Puck answers immediately. Most people don’t get that courtesy, but Brittany and San do. San’s his best friend, and really, you never know when Brit’s gonna get in over her head and need help. Not answering is kind of like leaving a puppy on the sidewalk. Possibly fine, but possibly a streak of blood and guts waiting to happen.
“Hey Brittany. What’s up? You okay?”
“Kurt wants to kiss boys.”
Puck blinks, then tries to figure out an answer that’s not sarcastic. Brittany doesn’t generally understand sarcasm. “Yeah. I know the straight crossdressing today was probably confusing, but Kurt’s definitely gay.”
“We were making out for a while. I got my last man! So Kurt made me happy, so I should make him happy. But he didn’t get hard. I think he’s capital G gay.”
“Yeah Brittany. It’s okay. You crossed him off your list, you can just leave him alone now.”
“You should come over and kiss Kurt. You can still be a shark, you don’t have to be a dolphin.”
Puck pulls the phone away from his ear to frown at it, like that’ll do any good. Then he remembers to actually answer her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please? Lord Tubbington will be mad if you don’t have manners.”
“Ugh. Fine.” Stupid blond girls. Those shedevils can get anything from him. He’s just gotta pray Mercedes doesn’t find out, because the one time she got pissed at Hummel she threw a brick through his windshield, and Puck can’t afford to fix his truck if she does that to him. “Be there soon.”
He hangs up and starts the hunt for clothing that hasn’t been worn more than once. Showing up in just the boxers and shirt he’s wearing now won’t go over well, but neither will anything with stains.
Puck knows where Kurt lives. He’s played pranks at the Hummel house more than once. In fact, as far as he can remember this is the first time he’s ever been here without a prank to play. It’s also the first time he’s knocked on the door. Kurt answers it with a scowl. It’s even less appealing of an expression matched with flannel than it looks with his normal sassy-wear.
“Brittany said you were coming over, but I hoped it was just something Brittanyish. She talked about her armpits earlier.”
Puck nods. “Yeah, girl’s got a fetish.”
“And you’ve got absolutely no reason to be here.”
“Except we all know you’d rather kiss a dude. I’m a dude.”
Puck’s expecting Hummel to rag on him for his slang or slam the door in his face. At least he can tell Brittany he tried. Instead he gets Kurt throwing his hands in the air. “The first day I try to be straight and a guy offers to kiss me! What do you want from me?”
It’s a question for God, or whatever higher power Hummel believes in. Puck answers anyway, because he wants to either do this or go home. He’s got video games and comfortable worn boxers waiting. “Hummel, I honestly don’t care who you want to bang. Do you want to make out or not?”
“My bedroom’s downstairs.” Kurt steps aside, allowing him to pass through the doorway. “Do not say hello to my dad.”
Puck has no intention of saying shit to Mr Hummel. Guy probably wants to hit him with a crowbar. Puck would definitely want to destroy anyone who nailed furniture onto his roof. He keeps his mouth shut as he heads inside. The door at the stairs has a sign saying Do Not Enter Under Any Circumstances, I’m Making Out With A Girl. As far as Puck knows Kurt only has the one parent in the house. Whatever this weird straight thing is, it definitely involves his dad. Puck hopes for his sake Kurt gets over it. Dead beat or intolerant, either way dads can fuck off as far as Puck’s concerned.
“Hi Puck. I like your hair.” Seeing as his hair’s been the same for a few days and Brit’s definitely seen it more than once, it’s not a compliment that makes sense. But it’s Brittany, so sense doesn’t matter. He smiles at her instead of reminding the room that he fucking hates how he looks with a fully shaved head.
He sits on Kurt’s couch, kicking off his shoes to make himself comfortable, even though Kurt’s still wearing boots. Puck’s not sure what makes him want to roll his eyes more, that Kurt’s bedroom is big enough that he needs a freakin’ couch, when Puck’s own bedroom is a twin bed, a dresser and a door, or that said couch is white. The piece of furniture most likely to get stuff spilled on it, and it’s the most unforgiving colour. And it’s pristine. It’s like Kurt’s too perfect to be human.
“Everyone always watches me make out. I should get to watch you make out.”
Puck shrugs, then looks up at Kurt, who’s still standing. He doesn’t mind. He’s got a wide range of kinks and showing off is in the top ten. And really, three quarters of the reason he’s doing this is for Brittany anyway. It’s up to Kurt though, bottom line.
“Be my guest,” he says flippantly before sitting down.
Puck’s pretty sure the attitude is cover for nerves, and getting people over nerves is a skill of his. He scooches in closer and hits Kurt with the one two combo of a hand on his thigh and lips on his neck. And it works. Of course it works, he’s Puck. He knows how to do this. Kurt angles his body in towards him and Brittany says “he likes your velvet hands more than my corduroy hands”, which Puck’s pretty sure means she tried to grab his ass and Kurt said no. Which is stupid really, because Brittany gives great handjobs. Probably better than him, seeing as he’s only done it twice. Practice makes perfect, and Brittany has a lot of practice with guys.
Puck doesn’t leave a hickey because Kurt would probably murder him, bludgeon him with a jar of two hundred dollar skin cream. There’s no way this flannel and t-shirt thing is going to last, probably not even for the rest of the week, and when it’s over Kurt’s going to want to wear fancy v-necks. At least if he bites Hummel’s lip the skin isn’t going to get any redder than it normally is. Kurt bites back too, which is great. Not a lot of girls get rough. Puck’s pretty sure he can blame the underlying bitchiness not the surface manliness for the bite. Another great thing, because if this happens again some time that probably won’t change. Puck’s not sure it will happen again, but it’s always been his motto to keep his sexual horizons wide.
Puck keeps up the kiss as he slides his hand over from Kurt’s thigh to rub on what’s quickly becoming a bulge at the crotch of Kurt’s overalls. Brittany claps a few times when he does, evidently liking what she sees. Puck’s happy about that, because he can’t really see anything more hardcore happening. Kurt’s not really ready for more.
Except maybe Puck’s wrong about his judgement, because Kurt is rising off the couch and twisting so he can straddle him. And that is followed up by Kurt grinding down on him. Puck is not okay with coming in his pants like some junior high kid. Before anything pathetic can happen he reaches down in between them and undoes his jeans. Puck doesn’t go commando every day, but he sure as hell does when he’s been phoned for a booty call. And thank God for small miracles because with Kurt in lumberjack-wear his pants are baggy and easy to get into. No bullshit multiple layers or buttonfly skinny jeans, just two buttons at his shoulders and then the entire front of the overalls flops over Kurt’s thighs and there’s a big gaping space that Puck could probably get five hands into if he had to.
It’s not much of a surprise when Brittany relocates to the cushion beside them. She wants to watch and it’s literally impossible for her to be self-conscious. Puck’s holding his own on the lack of shame too, he thinks, as he grabs both of their dicks and starts stroking. It’s maybe not the most impressive thing, but Kurt’s a virgin, it’s not like he’ll expect anything better.
“I’m going to kiss you again,” he says, then hesitates, but keeps a hand on Puck’s hand. Their fingers are a little intertwined, but it’s mostly for more coverage.
Puck rolls his eyes. “Not a circuit, dude. Can’t overload me with gay. You can do more than one thing at a time.”
Kurt rolls his eyes back, but it’s just for show because a second later his lips are on Puck’s and there’s a tongue halfway down his throat and Kurt’s hand is up his shirt. He’s got pretty little manicured nails, Puck can feel them. In his peripheral vision Brittany is rocking back and forth. He wonders if she’s fucking her hand, but doesn’t break the kiss to take a real look. It’s taking most of his focus to keep even strokes without closing his hand too much. No one wants a thumb shaped bruise on their dick.
Kurt comes first. It makes sense. Puck knows how to hold off to give his ladies time for multiple orgasms. This is Kurt’s first time, he doesn’t know anything. His come is kind of all over the place; he orgasmed on the downstroke so there were no fingers on the head to stop the spray. Puck doesn’t really care about the mess. In a little over two years of sex he’s had a lot worse than a bit of come on his stomach and thighs. Puck uses what he can to make his last few strokes slipperier. That’s when Brittany darts her hand in and scoops up a fingerful. She eats it like it’s dip. It’s ridiculously hot, and makes Puck bite Kurt’s lip one last time. He doesn’t ease off the pressure until he’s done coming.
Puck kind of figured Kurt for the type of person to immediately run to the bathroom and wash up. Instead he stays straddled, looking at the remains of sex between them with this look on his face. Puck sighs inside his head. He already has to help Brit and San and his sister with their shit. He’s not Ms Pilsbury, this advice thing isn’t his fucking job. But his moral code has always been if you get someone into bed, you make sure they’re cool getting out of it. Even if it’s hard, and awful. Like he’s doing with Quinn.
“Look. You’re gay, dude. Not bi, gay. Pretending to be straight is only going to fuck with your head. Whoever you’re doing it for isn’t worth it.”
“No offense Noah, but you really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
With that Kurt gets up and heads for the washroom. Puck would be proud about nailing it if he wasn’t rolling his damn eyes. It’s the second time he’s said basically the same words, and the second time he’s been ignored. San swore a lot more though.
Brittany’s face is totally blank when he looks over at her, and if her skirt was ever pulled up it’s down again now. “I’m gonna leave now. Do you want a ride?”
“No. Kurt’s going to walk me to the door and kiss me goodnight, I think.”
A move like that? Yeah, this shit is definitely about Kurt’s dad. But it’s officially not his problem, not as soon as he walks out and gets into his car. Puck’s got his own daddy drama to deal with. Two generations of it, maybe, if you look at it like that. Kurt will either get over it, or he’ll let it ruin things. It’s not his problem. Well, not unless Brit asks him to intervene again.