Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Puck was pretty sure he’d never used the word swagger to describe the way Finn moved, not ever, but it was sure as fuck happening now.  He returned from the bar, waving at the cute chick he’d been talking up, and clutching a piece of paper in both hands like it held the secrets of the universe.  

“I can’t believe she gave me her number,” he marveled, grinning broadly at them.  Puck tipped his beer back and finished it off, then slid it down the table toward the precipice.  Sam caught it before it could take a dive and set it on the floor next to the other empties. Just because it was their favorite bar didn’t mean the service was any good.

“That’s one strike against her already.” Puck eyed the doorway as though he could still see the girl’s ass silhouetted against the night. “I don’t know, Hudson; she’s a little out of your league, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” Finn agreed. “That makes her even more awesome.”  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and programmed in the number.  “I’m not going to lose this.”

Kurt filched the number out of his fingers.  “I’m sure Marley will appreciate that,” he said dryly.  “She made big round loops in her letters.”

Puck stabbed the table with one finger. “Dude, girls whose names end in the -ly sound are always kinky.  Marley... Kelly... Lily…”

Kurt gave Puck an amused look. Puck was happy to take that over the disgusted look Kurt sometimes still gave him.  He didn’t even think he deserved it, most of the time, but who knew what Kurt might find disgusting.  “I wonder if it’s the same for guys whose names end in -ly.”

“Haven’t banged any of them, but if I do, I’ll be sure to ask,” said Puck, and Sam snorted at just the wrong time, sending a lamentable quantity of beer all over his end of the table.

“Warn a guy, will you, Puck?” Sam spluttered, making Kurt giggle.  Now that was a sound Puck could stand behind.  He grinned at Kurt, elbowing him.  

Finn poked at his phone. “You think I should call her now? Before she, like, forgets who I am? If I do it now, she’ll remember, and she’ll know I really wanted to talk to her...”  He trailed off, catching Puck’s glare.  “What?”

“Yeah, no. Forget about it, Finn.  That’s even more dorktastic than I would expect from you.” Puck motioned to the waitress, who made her way across the floor to their table, and gestured at Finn.  “Would you tell my friend here how long you have to wait before calling a girl after she gives you her phone number?”

“Three days,” she said promptly. “Doesn’t everybody know that?”

“Everybody but Brainy McClueless, apparently.”  Puck shrugged, then made a winding motion with his finger.  He figured it could mean crazy, or it could mean bring another round, but just to be clear, he added, “I think that means he gets to pay for the drinks.”

“Come on, that’s a stupid rule,” Finn argued.  “I refuse to believe something would suddenly go wrong just because I don’t wait for three days. Why can’t I just call her because I want to?”

“Strategic move,” said Kurt, sipping his drink, “assuming your goal is to convince her you’re desperate. Oh -- that is your goal, isn’t it?”

This made Sam snort harder, although thankfully he didn’t have any beer in his mouth at the time. Puck figured the table had been christened enough that evening.   

“Harsh,” he said.

Kurt’s eyebrow went up. “What, you’re the only person allowed to trash talk my stepbrother? That’s some kind of discrimination.”

“Seriously, Hudson,” Puck went on, as though Kurt hadn’t spoken.  “You’re going to have to promise me -- promise us -- that you’re not going to call this girl until three days have gone by. No matter how slutty she is. Promise.”

Finn sighed, but he nodded. “Okay.  I promise I won’t call.”

“That’s more like it.”  Puck nodded too, satisfied, then frowned across the room at the bar.  “Now, where the fuck is that beer?  I’m way behind on my Saturday quota.”

Finn couldn’t remember a time when he and Puck hadn’t been friends.  He knew there had to have been a time, way back before elementary school, before he’d known Puck’s home number and how to get to his house on his bike.  And there were those awful months in sophomore year after Finn had found out the truth about Quinn, that crazy miserable period when Finn stopped accepting texts from him and unfriended him on Facebook and all kinds of really juvenile shit.  But they’d eventually healed from that, and honestly, it was hard now to remember why he’d made Puck wait so long before becoming friends again.  

So ever since then, Finn had pretty much decided not to lie to Puck, ever, about anything, even little stupid things such as promise you won’t call this girl.

And, as he gazed at her name in his phone, with a foolish little jump in his stomach, he couldn’t help but wonder: What if she’s the one?  What if this is the one I’ve been waiting for since I put Rachel on the train to New York?

Reading Marley’s name summoned his finger. He rested it on the surface of his phone, not quite pressing, though with one little flick, he could -- no. He’d promised Puck he wouldn’t call.

“But I didn’t promise I wouldn’t text,” he murmured, and he felt the hopeful grin spread over his own face as he tapped the New Text button.  

It took less than three seconds after he’d pressed Send for him to realize how absolutely, completely, thoroughly stupid the text had sounded.  He glanced around himself wildly, as though the words might be floating there in the air. Maybe he could grab them, saving himself from the misery of waiting for her reply.  Assuming she’d ever actually send one, after picking herself up off the floor from laughing.  

Finn groaned, burying his head in his arms, and settled in to wait.  

It took six minutes before his phone buzzed again, and five seconds for him to read the reply three times in a row.

I’ve been thinking about you too, Finn. I just took a batch of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and I was wishing I had someone to share them with.

The jump in his stomach reached Olympic heights.  “Oh,” he said, softly, to the empty room.  

It wasn’t empty for long.  When Sam returned from the gym and saw Finn’s face, he frowned reproachfully.  

“Dude, you said you weren’t going to call that girl,” he said.

“I didn’t call her,” Finn protested. “I texted her.”

“Same freaking difference.”

Finn waved his phone in the air. “Why should I care about some stupid rule about how long guys wait to call?”

“Hey, if you’re not going to listen to me, then listen to Puck,” said Sam, hoisting his gym bag over his shoulder and heading for the bathroom. “He’s the one who has a date every weekend.”

But Finn’s attention was already drawn back to the tiny screen, his mind racing as to what thoughtful, earnest, mildly clever thing he might say next.  He put all his attention toward crafting a reply that would wow her, but he wasn’t really worried.  If Marley hadn’t minded his entirely dorky text, she’d probably put up with a lot.

Kurt was the only one at the table when Puck got the first text from Finn, so he didn’t bother to try to disguise his grin. “Ha! This is better than I expected.”

Kurt leaned across the table, trying to see what was on Puck’s screen. “What?”

“Remember that ‘promise’ Finn made?” He gave it air quotes. “He already broke it.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes. “And how exactly do you know that?”

“Because I changed Marley’s number in Finn’s phone to my work cell.” Puck held it up and waggled it at Kurt. Kurt’s eyes flew back open.

“You didn’t.”

“I so did. And you won’t believe what he said to her.”

“You are walking clickbait, Noah Puckerman.” Kurt slid out from his side of the booth and came around to sit beside him, grabbing the phone. When he let out a shout of laughter, Puck grinned.

“Oh, Finn,” sighed Kurt. “This is so embarrassing and he doesn’t even know it. We should tell him who he actually sent that to.”

“Yeah.” Puck drummed his fingers on the table. “But we could pretend we’re Marley and we’re making chocolate chip cookies.”

Kurt considered this for about one second before biting his tongue and typing a response to Finn. They waited with their heads bent over the phone for his reply, and broke into giggles when it arrived.

“He’s going to be pissed when we tell him it’s us,” said Kurt.

Puck shrugged. “Maybe, instead, we tell him... we’ve got a thing for tall teddy-bear guys.”

Kurt’s eyes flashed, but his thumbs flew on the keyboard.

“Good thing I’m six-four,” he read a moment later. “God, is he really?”

“You gotta wonder how he fits on that tiny mattress of his. His legs stick out so far, they bump the wall.”

“And I could probably use a trip to the gym. Yeah, I think the last time he picked up a weight was senior year football training.”

“But you appreciate guys who are a little plush,” Puck said. “They’re more fun to snuggle with. Say that.”

Kurt obliged, nodding. “I really do. But we should really tell him who we--” He paused, reading, and his expression softened. “Aww, he wants to snuggle with us right now.”

“Good thing we just took a shower.” Puck nudged Kurt’s arm. “Tell him skin’s so much better for snuggling. And I bet we’re wearing a sexy silk robe.”

“Yeah, I think that’s already on the floor of our bedroom,” said Kurt, his smile widening.

Puck gripped Kurt’s leg. “Yeah,” he growled. “That’s better.”

Kurt made a little squeak. “He’s not wearing anything either.” He held up a palm, and Puck automatically high-fived it. “This is totally happening.”

“This is totally happening.” Puck grinned triumphantly. “Okay, now we’ll just casually rub one leg up and down on top of his...” His voice trailed off when he realized Kurt was breathing hard. “Um -- I mean… maybe we should rethink this.”

Kurt carefully put the phone down on the table and clasped his hands together, while Puck let go of Kurt’s leg and shifted away from him, as casually as he could.

“I guess we’re being kind of mean,” Kurt added.

“No,” scoffed Puck. “It’s not mean. It’s, you know. For his own good. We’re protecting him from himself. I mean, look at this. He was going to move too fast with Marley and screw things up, again.”

Kurt nodded, looking relieved. “It’s been a long time since Finn really liked someone.”

“You know what we should do? We should get him to say I love you before he even talks to her.”

“Finn’s an I-love-you kind of person.” Kurt put out a hand and rested it on the table. “I don’t think it would take much.”

“We’re helping him.” Puck nodded decisively. He reached past Kurt’s hand and picked up the phone. “That’s all. Just helping him get past this shit and get on with his life.”

“Of course.”

“Right.”

“So what if we tell him…” Kurt thought for a moment. “We feel safe cuddling naked with him, because we know he’s the kind of person we can trust.”

Puck raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? Tell me, if we were cuddling naked with Finn, would there not be sex? Because, I mean, look at the guy. He’s totally our type.”

Kurt’s face went pink, and he rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe. But let’s give him the chance to get to know us first at least. It can’t just be about sex. Even if we are totally his type.”

“You can rest your head on my chest,” Puck read. "I won’t take advantage of you.”

Kurt let out a little sigh. “That feels amazing.” He pressed his cheek against Puck’s shoulder. “I wondered from day one what it would be like to be in his arms.”

Puck swallowed as he typed that. “He does give good hugs.”

“He does. Tell him he’s got an amazing smile.”

“You know, I think if we’re specifically trying not to have sex with him,” Puck said, his voice coming out a little high, “we should start talking about something else.”

Kurt sighed again, more briskly this time. “Okay. You’re right. Ask him what kind of music he likes. He can talk about that for hours.”

Puck glanced over at Kurt. “This is really how you want to spend your Sunday? Don’t you need to get home?”

“Blaine’s rehearsal is going late. He’ll barely be around until tomorrow.” Kurt looked at the wall. “We’re helping Finn, right?”

“Oh, jeez,” Puck groaned. “Listen to this. You like eighties rock, too? We should get married. LOL. j/k.”

“That’s Finn,” said Kurt, smiling. “When he thinks it’s love, the boundaries just slip away.”

“I didn’t think it would be that easy.” He felt a little disgruntled, replying with a pithy you’re so sweet. “Does he think we actually want to rush into commitment?”

“I think he’s lonely. He’d do anything for intimacy, and he thinks if he can find someone who wants him, that means he’s worth something.”

“Someone? Meaning anyone? A warm body?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Puck snorted. “Is sure-thing sex really worth settling for someone who’s only okay?”

Kurt gazed back at him. “Are you asking me?”

He wondered if he should apologize, or say no, I didn’t mean you and Blaine, even though they all knew that was exactly who Blaine was to Kurt. “I’m just saying, Finn’s looking for the one, and I think as long as he thinks we’re the one, he’s not going to stop until we agree to go all the way.”

“All right. So let’s give him some more evidence that we’re the one. Here, let me. You keep misspelling things; he’s going to get suspicious.”

Puck passed the phone to Kurt while he went to the bar and ordered a Heineken for himself, an Amstel Light for Kurt, and a basket of chili cheese fries to share. He watched as Dave Karofsky came in with two of his friends. They gave each other a mutual wave and nod as Dave took the booth behind Kurt’s.

“It’s getting worse,” Kurt reported when he returned with the beer and food. “He made a crazy way-too-soon trip suggestion.”

“Tell him you love classic cars,” said Puck. “Then you can plan the best road trip ever.”

“I do love classic cars.”

“Yeah, and that’ll add authenticity. He can talk about working at the garage, and we can swoon over his mechanical knowledge.”

Kurt smirked. “I know way more about cars than Finn does, Puck.”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl. Girls always pretend to know less than they do so their boyfriends can be smarter than them.”

He wrinkled his nose. “That’s ridiculous. Finn doesn’t want someone who tries not to know things just to make him feel more secure. He wants someone who appreciates him for who he is, and who doesn’t talk down to him.”

“Like Rachel?”

“You could agree never to speak her name again,” said Kurt coolly, returning to the phone, “and it wouldn’t be too soon.”

The road trip turned into an elaborate vacation across the midwest, headed toward the east coast. Kurt hesitated when Finn talked about his stepdad, the US congressional representative, who often spent time in Washington D.C.

“Do I have to make up a family for us?” he said. “Or can we just use yours?”

“If you want to scare him into ditching us, sure,” snorted Puck. “He’d be crazy to want in-laws like my mom and dad.”

“I don’t think he would assume that just because our parents are… challenging that it’s going to be an issue,” protested Kurt. “We turned out great. We’re running a successful pool and hot tub installation business with two locations across Ohio. And our mom isn’t so bad. Plus we have a sister and a half-brother.”

He picked at the fries. “And a kid, don’t forget that.”

Kurt scowled at his tone. “Don’t be talking trash about our Beth. She’s perfect.”

Puck felt the heat burst across his cheeks, and busied himself wiping chili and cheese off his fingers. “Not everybody thinks having a kid is such a great thing, Kurt.”

“Finn loves Beth,” Kurt said fiercely. “Seriously, you have nothing to worry about. See, look what he says: I’ve always wanted a big family. We should invite him over for dinner.”

“Who’s moving fast now?” But Puck leaned in closer, watching Kurt type. They both grinned at Finn’s reply, and shared another high-five. “You are really good at this,” he had to admit.

“Just because I’ve only ever had one boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m not an expert at courtship. I spent my entire childhood scripting romances in my head.” Kurt tossed his carefully coiffed head. “If there’s one thing Finn loves, it’s romance. And I don’t mean the pointless flowers-and-chocolate variety. I mean the kind where you tell all your secrets.”

“I don’t know,” Puck said. “I’ve known him practically since he was born, and he’s never talked to me like this.”

“That’s because he knows you don’t want to talk about yourself. It’s okay. Sometimes he needs to tell dirty jokes and watch football instead. We like to do that too.”

“Tell him that. Man, we are so perfect for him, it’s scary.”

“I think we should suggest a blowjob during the football-watching, just to shake him up.”

“Uh, hello?? What was that about moving fast?”

They were laughing so loudly at Finn’s responses that Dave actually turned around in his booth and glared at them.

“Why are you guys making so much noise?”

“Um…” said Kurt, still giggling, “do you really want to know?”

Dave’s expression didn’t change. “Would I have asked if I didn’t?”

“We’re trying to get Finn to tell us he loves us,” said Puck.

Dave’s eyebrows went way, way up on his forehead, but he just said, “How’s that going for you?”

Kurt waved the phone at him. “If I were going to take bets, I would say we’ll get there in… oh, twenty-four hours, max.”

Dave turned back around to face his friends, speaking quietly to them. Then he stood up, grabbed a chair from the table beside them, and pulled it up to Puck and Kurt’s booth. “Start again from the beginning.”

It didn’t take long to explain the entire situation to Dave, who after all had known Finn almost as long as they had. Dave listened carefully, asking a few key insightful questions, but seemed to have no trouble accepting the premise that, between the two of them, Puck and Kurt would be able to synthesize a convincingly perfect girlfriend for Finn.

“Okay,” said Dave. He leaned on the table, looking at both of them solemnly. “You guys want a little constructive criticism?”

“Sure,” said Puck. “Hit me.”

“You’re forgetting the way Finn responds to songs. Especially sappy 80’s ballads.”

Kurt looked confused. “We can’t exactly sing to him via text.”

“No, but you can send the lyrics to him. Why don’t you tell Finn…” He paused, then continued, his voice suddenly soft and intimate. “Tell him, as the night moves in, love takes on a new meaning. If you were here, he would know what you mean to say. The circumstance leaves you only waiting for the chance.”

“Nice,” said Puck, nodding in approval. He nudged Kurt, who was staring at Dave. “Say that.” Dave recited the lyrics again as Kurt typed.

“It’s not the way you planned it,” Dave went on. “If he could only know your feelings, he would know how much you do believe… if he were here, tonight, by your side… if he were with you now, where the lights go out… you couldn’t pretend this bed was too big for you to be in alone.”

Kurt’s eyes were as big as silver dollars. “That’s… um, that’s really good.”

“Whatever.” Puck tried to keep his voice steady. “It’s all right.”

Dave gazed across the table at nothing as he spoke. “Every night alone, you just wait here, anticipating the day you won't feel this pain...”

“Oh,” said Kurt breathlessly, and he bit his lip as he reached for Dave’s hand. Dave looked at it in surprise, then up at Kurt, who let go as quickly as he’d grabbed it. “I mean -- yes. I’ll send that to Finn. Who sings that?”

“Alexander O’Neal,” said Puck. They both stared at him, and he took a defensive sip of his beer. “I’m just, you know. Guessing.”

“It’s If You Were Here Tonight,” said Dave.

“Well, it was really touching,” Kurt told him. “If anyone decided to read me those lyrics, I would feel -- I mean, I would be hard pressed to say I wasn’t a little bit in love with him.”

Dave gave him a little smile. “That’s the idea, right?”

They waited another few minutes, watching the phone in barely disguised anticipation, but no response came.  

“Nothing, huh?” asked Dave.

“He’s not in love with us,” Kurt said mournfully.

“How can he not be in love with us?” snapped Puck. “We’re everything he’s looking for.”

Kurt sighed dramatically. “I don’t get men.”

Dave pushed his chair out from the table. “I think I’d better head out.”

They both looked up at him in surprise. Kurt appeared absolutely stricken. “But -- don’t you want to see what happens?”

“I have to get to work. But you should consider…” Dave inclined his head, and his lips twitched. “Everywhere I go, you’re always on my mind, in my heart, in my soul.”

“That’s a good one,” Puck said to Kurt as Dave walked toward the door. "You’re the Inspiration by Chicago. We can try that one next.”

It wasn’t weird for Kurt to invite Puck to his apartment when they were done at the bar. His place was the biggest, and all of them often ended up over there when they weren’t sitting in their usual booth. Puck brought the phone with him and waited by the couch while Kurt changed out of his work clothes.

“Blaine’s still at rehearsal?” called Puck.

“Until one AM,” Kurt called back. He came out, now wearing sweatpants and a blue t-shirt, and nodded questioningly at the phone. Puck shook his head.

“Still nothing. He’s probably gone to bed. He’s never been a late night guy.”

Kurt smiled to himself. “Back in high school, he used to get up with me when I couldn’t sleep and--”

“--drink warm milk, I know.” He grinned at Kurt’s expression. “What, you think he never told me anything?”

“Well, I don’t know.” Kurt sounded more curious than hostile. “The two of you always seemed close in a really… nonverbal kind of way. Like the words didn’t matter so much. And with me, words were all we had. Sometimes he would go days without telling me what he was thinking. That made me miss him more, even when he was right there.”

“But once your parents got married, you had him around all the time.”

Kurt laughed quietly. “You mean Rachel had him all the time. God, I was so relieved when he put her on that train and walked away.”

“Yeah. Me too.” He watched Kurt circle around him and sit on the couch. “I always thought you’d end up in New York, too.”

“Well, maybe I would have, if my dad hadn’t gotten sick again.”

“But he’s all right now, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. I suppose cancer can always come back, but his doctors are pretty sure they got it all. He felt good enough to run for congress, anyway, so that told us something. I liked managing his campaign, but running his office for him now is a lot less stressful.” Kurt looked at the space on the couch beside him, then back up at Puck. “You want to sit down?”

“Sure, yeah. I mean, I should probably get out of here eventually. Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” As Puck settled beside him, together they looked at the phone, and Kurt made a little startled noise when they saw the message already on the screen. “Didn’t you say he didn’t--?”

“I thought he didn’t,” Puck said, aghast. He scrolled back, and they saw it was just one of a long series of messages. “But this one was from twenty minutes ago. Can’t sleep, can’t stop thinking about you and that song. How did you know it’s one of my favorites?”

“Go, Dave,” said Kurt, making a rah-rah motion with one fist. “Good choice.”

“I wish we were together so I could actually sing this one to you.”

They leaned in simultaneously to read the lyrics. Puck got it first and started laughing.

“Do you know what song it is?” Kurt asked, sounding a little strangled.

In answer, Puck passed the phone to Kurt and began singing a cappella:

So long, I've been looking too hard, I've been waiting too long
Sometimes I don't know what I will find, I only know it's a matter of time
When you love someone, when you love someone

It feels so right, so warm and true, I need to know if you feel it too
Maybe I'm wrong, won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong
This heart of mine has been hurt before, this time I want to be sure

I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life…

He waited for Kurt to cut him off, maybe to roll his eyes at the lyrics, but Kurt stayed quiet, shifting his gaze between the screen and Puck’s mouth while Puck sang the entire song. He could hear Finn playing the drum part in his head, and he wondered if Kurt was imagining it too.

When he was done, Kurt was silent for a while. Then he cleared his throat.

“The song said,” Kurt whispered hoarsely, “it said, when you love someone. Does… does that count?”

“I don’t think so,” said Puck. “I think it can’t be lyrics. It has to be his own actual words for it to count.”

Kurt nodded. He looked troubled. “Yeah, but he’s almost there. He thinks he fell in love with somebody in one day. Doesn’t that make you worry about him a little? That he would consider that to even be possible?”

“A little? Not any more than I already worry about him, I guess. I mean, first of all, he’s putting a lot on what he thinks she looks like. He might not even be attracted to her once he gets to know her.”

“But that wouldn’t be love, anyway,” said Kurt. “That’d be chemistry. A fantasy.”

“Well, that counts for something, doesn’t it? Can you have love without chemistry?”

“I guess not.”

“Right. At the moment he’s going with what he thinks she’s like in his head, instead of what it would really be like, together. He won’t really know until he spends some time with her.” Puck tapped Kurt’s knee. “Second of all… you and me, we know him already. We know him really well. We get to pick and choose the best stuff, the stuff we know he really likes. A real person isn’t like that. You don’t get the best of one person plus the best of another.”

“No,” Kurt admitted. “You get the whole people. Person. Whatever.” He looked at the screen again. “He’s waiting for us to react.”

“He’s going to go to sleep eventually.” Puck reached for the phone, and Kurt handed it to him. “You want to tell him now or wait and tell him in the morning how much that song made us cream our jeans?”

Kurt didn’t laugh. “I think we’d better tell him something now, or else he’s going to wake up in the middle of the night, and look at the phone, and wonder what’s wrong with him that we didn’t write back.”

“Well, jeez, okay. How’d it make you feel?”

“How’d it make you feel?” Kurt asked softly.

“I was the one singing,” Puck objected, but it was only to give him time to think. He wasn’t about to say how it really made him feel. Then he shrugged. Fuck it. “Somebody sings me a song like that, I’m either gonna want to cry or have sex with them. Take your pick.”

“Yeah. Me, too. You can put that.”

Puck typed it out and pressed send, then set the phone down next to the couch. “I could leave this with you overnight.”

“No, no, it’s your phone. I can wait until tomorrow.” But Kurt was looking at it longingly.

“How about I crash on your couch?”

“Are you sure?” Even as he spoke, Kurt was already moving toward the hallway. “I have sheets and blankets in the linen closet.”

Puck listened for the answering vibration of the phone, but it stayed quiet. Maybe Finn really had gone to sleep. He considered getting his other phone out and calling Finn, just to get an outside point of view on how he was actually doing.

What outside point of view? He sighed. Talk about being in over your fucking head.

Puck moved off the couch while Kurt smoothed a sheet over the cushions and plumped up a fat pillow for him. The thread count of the fabric was definitely higher than anything he’d ever slept on before. Puck ran a hand over the pillow’s surface.

“Puck...” Kurt was standing in the middle of the room, looking lost. For a minute, Puck considered getting up and hugging him, but that might have really turned out weird, so he stayed where he was.

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Puck sat there and waited for a good half minute before Kurt spoke again. The whole time, his stomach was leaping all over the place, while he sternly told himself, it’s not what you think it is, it’s not about you, it’s not what you want it to be.

“Blaine and I broke up,” Kurt said at last.

“You did?”

“Last week. That’s why he’s not here. I mean, I actually does have rehearsal, too, but… he’s not coming back here tonight. Or at all. He moved out.”  

“Oh.” He tried to think of the usual things people would say under these circumstances. It probably shouldn’t be thank god. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I am. I don’t think he is, but he’ll get through it. I’m the one who broke up with him. I just… I didn’t want you to go on thinking he was coming home, because he’s not.”

“Okay. Do you want to talk about it or anything?”

“I really don’t,” Kurt said. “I guess that’s why I haven’t told anybody else yet.”

“Okay. Well…” He shrugged. “If you change your mind, just come and wake me up. I’m not such a bad listener.”

“I know.” Kurt hesitated, but no more words seemed to be forthcoming. He just nodded. “Well, good night.”

Puck fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the absurdly soft pillow, but when he woke up again, he knew it wasn’t morning yet. Movement on the other side of the room brought him fully awake.

“Kurt?” he called softly.

It was too dark to see details, but at some point he could tell that the silent figure was indeed Kurt. He shifted back on the couch as he felt Kurt touching his feet, trying to make room for him there, but Kurt climbed right on top of his legs, keeping him where he was.

“What are you--?”

“I said I didn’t want to talk,” said Kurt. He tugged on the blanket, and then the sheet, until Puck was lying there beneath him in just his t-shirt and briefs. Puck could hear his labored breathing.

“Are you crying?” he asked.

“No, I’m -- I’m not crying.”

Puck reached out a hand and felt Kurt’s bare shoulder. He heard him sigh.

“What you said before about cuddling naked,” Kurt said. “You were right. There’s no way I wouldn’t want to do all kinds of things with Finn if we were naked together.”

“Yeah,” said Puck. Somehow the dark made it possible for him to add, “Me, too.”

“I thought maybe that was the case.” Kurt’s hand grazed Puck’s chest, coming to rest on his stomach. “What about… with me?”

Puck licked his lips, drenched in arousal so shockingly sudden that he was glad to be lying down. He heard himself make a wordless noise, a little breathy uh.

“You can tell me if I’m way off base,” Kurt went on quickly, “but I’ve had the feeling that this thing we were -- that there’s some of that chemistry we were talking about. Between you and me. That there has been for a while. And then tonight…”

“You’re not off base,” Puck said.

“Okay. That’s good. But this is… um.” He sighed. “I’ve never been with a man other than Blaine.”

“I’ve never been with any man.”

Kurt laughed nervously. “I guess I’m just trying to say I’m not sure what to do, and you can say no if you don’t want to do any of it with me.”

“I’m not gonna say no to you, Kurt. I mean, I can’t think of anything I would say no to, but if I want to, I’ll say it nice and loud. Otherwise, it’s all a big yes.”

“Yes?” Kurt leaned over him, not quite on top of him, but hovering a few inches above him, close enough for Puck to feel the heat of his skin. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah, fuck, yeah.”

He already felt delirious by the time Kurt’s lips touched his. Though the erection that had arisen several times during their long day of texting had subsided while he slept, it was back now with a vengeance. When Kurt’s knee nudged his legs apart, he spread them with a moan.

“Still yes?” Kurt asked.

“Yes to all of it. You got condoms?”

Now Kurt’s laugh was incredulous. “You’re serious? And you’re worried about Finn rushing into things?”

Puck let his hands move down Kurt’s back to his ass. His skin was even softer than the sheets. “I don’t think it actually counts as rushing when I’ve wanted to do this with you for years.”

“Maybe I’m not entirely surprised to hear that.” Kurt made contented noises at the progress of Puck’s hands. “And that feeling -- oh -- is mutual.”

Puck didn’t try to suppress the goofy smile that took over his face. Kurt couldn’t see it anyway. “That’s good to hear.”

“I’d have to go back to the bedroom for condoms. I wasn’t really expecting to come out here and, you know. Do you on the couch.”

“Well, you can go get them, if that’s what you had in mind.”

“Or you could just come back with me into the bedroom.”

Puck allowed himself to be led through the dark apartment and then to be stripped naked before stretching out on what felt like the largest bed in the world. Unless they’d been hosting secret sex parties, there was no way Kurt and Blaine had needed a bed this size.

Kurt’s mouth on his was insistent, but he kept his hands to himself, letting Puck do all the exploring. Puck wished he could see what he was doing, but he thought he kind of got what Kurt was going for by keeping the lights off. Kurt didn’t seem to have any objection to anything he tried, and judging by the noises Kurt was making, and the quivering and thrusting, it felt good.

“If you were serious about the condoms,” Puck said, “I’d be all about that.”

He felt Kurt nod against his neck. “Did -- you want me on top?”

“You are on top,” Puck pointed out. “But I’m pretty flexible if you want me someplace else.” Just in case he hadn’t been clear, he added, “Yeah, I want you on top, if that’s okay.”

“That is so okay,” Kurt promised. He reached up and over Puck to get something off the headboard, leaving Puck to lick and kiss whatever skin happened to come within his reach while he did so. When he returned to lie on top of him again, he could tell Kurt was smiling. “And it seems that you are a lot more okay with this than I expected you to be.”

“What, you thought you were going to have to talk me into having sex with you? Do you have any idea how hot you are?”

Kurt laughed, and kissed him again. “I could say the same about you.”

He was pretty sure that, though neither of them said anything about him, Finn was on both their minds. Not that naked Kurt kneeling over him and slowly working his way inside him wasn’t totally good enough all by itself. He felt a little overwhelmed when he felt Kurt bottom out, and he clutched Kurt’s hips with both hands, holding him still.

“Just a minute,” he said, and Kurt nodded, kissing his neck and chest while he waited.

“When you sang to me, last night. I know, it wasn’t really from you. But it kind of felt like--”

“It was from me,” said Puck. “Not that I thought I had a chance before last night. Or even really until you decided to... do me on the couch.”

Kurt’s laughter was muffled against his skin. “I almost regret bringing you back in here. Maybe tomorrow we really will have to do that.”

It was apparently an inspirational idea for both of them. Puck was grateful for Kurt’s excellent coordination, because he was able to match the rhythm of his hips and his hand long enough for them both to reach a successful conclusion at roughly the same time.

“Shit,” gasped Puck, as Kurt lowered himself onto the bed beside him. “If I hadn’t been a buttsex convert already, I’d sure as fuck be one now.”

The cuddling afterward didn’t feel obligatory, as it had often seemed in the past with girls. Puck couldn’t get over the way Kurt felt in his arms, firm and strong and so fucking different, he couldn’t stop touching him. Luckily, Kurt didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m really the first man you’ve been with?” Kurt asked.

“If you don’t count incidental contact during threesomes and foursomes. And years of fantasies.”

Kurt cleared his throat. “So, just to say this... I think jumping out of one relationship and into another one is a terrible idea. But it’s not because I don’t… I mean, I’m not saying I wouldn’t...”

“Hey, no,” Puck said, as Kurt faltered. “It’s cool. I mean, who said I was looking for that anyway? It can just be -- what it is.”

“Okay. Yes.” Kurt leaned over and kissed him. “I’m going to go get cleaned up.”

Puck took a turn after Kurt in his immaculate bathroom, wondering if he should just head right back to the couch, but Kurt caught him in the doorway. It was still dark.

“Would you stay?” he asked. “In my bed tonight?”

“Yeah,” Puck said, relieved, “I’d like that. Lemme get my pillow.”

He checked the phone, which was still sitting on the table beside the couch, but there had been no response from Finn. He brought it with him into Kurt’s bedroom anyway, showing it to him before he set it on the headboard.

“It’s okay if you think I’m the biggest jerk for even thinking about him, right after you and I --”

“No,” said Kurt. He reached out and pulled Puck close to him. “I don’t think that. I understand.”

“Yeah? Kudos to you. I’m not sure I even understand.”

They lay there for several minutes with their arms around each other, not speaking. Puck wondered if Kurt had fallen asleep, but then Kurt said, “Sometimes I get the feeling we’ve all been looking at one another so long that we have a hard time seeing who’s really there.”

“Easier to listen honestly on the phone, then. Or in the dark.”

Kurt sounded subdued, and a little surprised. “Yes.”

Puck found Kurt’s soft lips and kissed him, and Kurt kissed him back. It went on for long enough that Puck wondered if they were going to start all over again from the beginning, but Kurt finally put a hand on his chest. They broke apart reluctantly.

“I do have to work tomorrow,” Kurt sighed. “Not that this isn’t -- I mean, you feel amazing.”

They were the same words Kurt had used with Finn earlier. It did feel amazing. For some reason knowing that Kurt thought so, too, made him more willing to let Kurt go and close his eyes.  

When Puck woke up in Kurt’s bed the next morning, the first thing he saw was Kurt, sitting naked and cross-legged beside him, smiling at the phone in his hand. His thumbs were moving rapidly over the keyboard, interspersed by brief pauses.

He wondered if he should feel something other than pleased to be watching Kurt do this, but he didn’t. In his mind, he substituted the phone for Finn, and considered how it might feel to wake up to the two of them smiling at one another that way.

That would be better, he thought, and yawned.

Even so, Kurt looked a little guilty as he set the phone down on the pillow beside them. He reached over and touched Puck’s arm. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” Puck stretched, letting the sheet fall away from his body just to enjoy the appreciation on Kurt’s face. He propped himself up on one elbow. “How’s Finn?”

“Attentive.” Kurt blushed. “We’ve been talking for a while. About dreams, and regrets. Did you know he’s been thinking about going back to college?”

“Yeah? That didn’t go so well the first time. All he wanted to do was party, even with me in his dorm room to keep him on task.”

“I think there’s a chance he’d do better this time.”

Kurt’s eyes kept straying to other parts of Puck’s body. It was intoxicating to witness Kurt looking at him like that. Puck smiled. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

“I called and said I’d be late.” He touched his own cell phone on the headboard, identical to the one Puck used for business, and gave Puck a hopeful return smile. In response, Puck pushed the sheets away and climbed on top of Kurt, sitting on his legs. Kurt laughed. “Well, this feels familiar.”

“Okay in the light?” Puck asked.

Kurt squinted at the morning sun filtering through the sheer curtains, then back up at Puck, still smiling. He didn’t appear to be worried.

“I think you’re seeing me pretty clearly now,” he said.

Puck leaned over him and kissed him. Every response, every sound Kurt made was perfect.

“I can’t stop thinking about you on that couch,” Puck said, and Kurt groaned. He spread his legs wider to make more room for Puck’s hand between them.

“You liked that?”

“I think I’m going to end up thinking about it a lot.” Puck watched Kurt’s eyes close and his head tip back, leaning into his touch. “When I’m alone.”

“I -- think about you being alone sometimes,” Kurt admitted. “When I’m alone.”

“Oh, yeah?” He shifted down lower on the bed, pressing his lips to the inside of Kurt’s thigh. “Do you think about me doing this?”

Kurt made a lot of affirmative responses after that, but Puck didn’t say anything else until much later, when Kurt rested a hand on Puck’s head.

“Not bad for a first attempt?” Puck asked.

“Did you hear me complaining?” Kurt heaved a long, contented sigh. “But consider yourself invited to practice your technique, any time.”

They were probably going to have to have a conversation about how often any time was going to be, or about whether or not Kurt thought they were going to tell anybody else about what they were doing, but Puck decided now was not the moment. Instead, he crawled back up on top of Kurt and kissed him enthusiastically while Kurt touched him in all the best places. He’d never been this much into kissing somebody, but then, he’d never had anybody this skilled at touching him, either. It took about three minutes to finish, and he didn’t even feel bad about employing his usual fantasies about Finn while they did it.

“This,” he said, kissing Kurt once more, “was by far the best date I’ve had in years.”

This seemed to please Kurt. They showered efficiently, after which Puck sat on the bed and texted Finn while Kurt got ready for work.

“Oh, oh,” he said, waving his hand as Kurt fastened his tie. “We got an I haven’t felt like this in a long time. That’s just inches away from I love you, isn’t it?”

“Tell him we’ll talk more at lunch,” said Kurt, “and you come to the congressional office with the phone. And maybe drop some more lyrics on him in the meantime.”

Kissing Kurt in his fancy suit was an unexpected turn-on, but Puck didn’t rub up against him or anything. He could play it cool.

Maybe I should wait three days before I see him again, he thought. The idea sounded ludicrous, even in his head. He and Kurt had known each other for years. They hung out with each other practically every day already. Now it looked like there might be sex along with the hanging out, which he thought might be pretty close to perfect.

The only thing that felt confusing was this thing with Finn and the phone. It was obvious that coming clean would be even more complicated than keeping it going. What they were actually doing, he wasn’t sure, but he’d waited this long. He could wait a little longer and see what happened.

When lunch rolled around, Puck arrived at Kurt’s office as requested. His secretary sent him back, and he knocked twice on the door before entering. Kurt was on the phone, but he beckoned Puck in and gestured toward the conference table.

Puck set the bag of sandwiches down and took a seat, watching Kurt pace back and forth beside the windows as he spoke earnestly to the constituent about his denied veterans’ benefit. By the time he ended the call, Kurt was watching Puck curiously.

“What?” said Kurt.

“What what?” asked Puck.

“You’re grinning about something. Is it Finn? What did he say?”

“No, it’s not Finn. It’s just…” He shrugged, trying not to feel self-conscious. “You. Being all official. Plus you look good in that suit.”

“Oh.” Kurt took that in. Then he walked over to stand behind Puck’s chair, letting his hands rest on Puck’s chest. When he leaned over to kiss his cheek, Puck turned his head to catch his lips instead, and Kurt chuckled.

“This is okay in your dad’s office?” Puck asked after a minute.

“Why not? We’re alone. I’m single.” Kurt kissed his ear, and Puck shifted a little in his chair. “I liked having you watch me get dressed this morning.”

“I liked all the other stuff we did, too. You have the biggest fucking bed.”

“Just think about all the other things we could do in it.”

“Yeah, I have been. All morning.” He pressed the palm of his hand briefly against his fly. Kurt tracked the action, then let his own hand slide down to mirror it. “Uh -- are you sure nobody can see us through those windows…?”

“We’re on the fourth floor. God, Puck, your abs. You have an actual six-pack.”

Puck sighed and and rested his head back against Kurt, letting his legs fall open as Kurt caressed his stomach. “Thought you preferred guys who were a little plush. Or did you make that up?”

“It would be more accurate to say I have an appreciation for men of all body types.” He traced the outline of Puck’s erection with one finger. “And I may have been wondering what it would be like to touch yours for a while now.”

“How about Dave? I think he still has a thing for you.”

“Dave? I think there’s too much history there for us to really be compatible, no matter how sweet he was at the bar.”

“What about Finn?”

“Well.” Kurt’s hand stopped. He cleared his throat. “I… suppose Finn might be as close to my type as I could come, but I think that’s because he’s Finn, not because of how he looks.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“You’re worried about how I feel about him?”

“Not worried,” Puck clarified. “Just thinking about it. You and Finn.”

“Oh.” Kurt sat down beside him, watching him soberly. “So, would that be good thinking or bad thinking?”

“Definitely good thinking.”

“Well.” He shrugged and looked at the floor. “Not that any of that would ever happen with Finn.”

Puck couldn’t deny that, but he hadn’t come to Kurt’s office to depress him. He scooted his chair closer to Kurt and kissed him again.

“I’m not sure if it’s because you’re a guy,” he said between kisses, “or because you’re you, but kissing you is awesome.”

“I’m not sure the why is all that important when it comes to being compatible kissers,” said Kurt, but he smiled. When he brushed gentle fingers across Puck’s chest, finding his nipple ring, Puck sat very still, trying not to let any shameless whimpering noises escape from his mouth. Kurt’s smile broadened. “I must say, being your first is a lovely ego boost, but that doesn’t mean I have to be your only.”

“Hey, I’m not saying I would say no to opportunities if they came along, but it’s not as if I’m rolling in offers from other dudes. Maybe I’m a little picky, I don’t know.” He shivered as Kurt wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in closer. “Fuck. If you keep doing that, at some point here I’m just going to offer to blow you under your desk…”

“Well, that image is certainly going to follow me for the rest of the day.” Kurt leaned back, putting a little space between them, and took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s eat lunch. And hand that phone over.”

Once they initiated contact with Finn, it was easier to focus on that for a while. Finn told them a story about a particularly exasperating customer at the garage. The fact that they both knew the customer in question didn’t make it any less entertaining. By the end, they were both laughing.

“Oh, god,” said Kurt, wiping his eyes, “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to look at Mr. Pinckney the same way again.”

Puck swallowed his last bite of sandwich and grinned. “I forgot how fucking funny Finn can be when he tries.”

“When he’s not depressed or worried or lonely, you mean. Yes.” Kurt shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “Not that I like him any less when he’s like that.”

“No. I know.”

He folded and unfolded his napkin as his eyes flickered across the phone’s screen. “I don’t think Blaine was ever really aware of how much I still thought about Finn that way.”

Puck snorted. “If Blaine didn’t notice you still felt like that about Finn, I don’t think he was paying very close attention. I mean, I knew.”

“Yes, but it turns out you were actually paying pretty close attention to me, too.”

He spun the fancy conference table chair around in a circle to distract Kurt from noticing how hard he was blushing. “Well, not in a creepy way. But Blaine was your boyfriend. He was supposed to be paying attention.”

“There were a lot of things boyfriends are supposed to do that Blaine never was all that good at.”

Puck wasn’t sure if it was intended to be a suggestive statement, but he spent several minutes considering many boyfriendly-things in great detail while Kurt continued his text conversation with Finn. Puck watched him out of the corner of his eye, letting his imagination run away with him while taking in Kurt’s entirely unselfconscious and obviously lovesick expression.

“You don’t have to make stuff up with me,” he said.

“Hmm?” Kurt looked up, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Like I said earlier. You don’t have to pretend to be something, or not to be something, just because you think I want that. I like you the way you are.”

Kurt’s expression smoothed out into a pleased smile. Looking at it inspired a very complicated set of feelings. Puck wondered if Kurt would notice any of them on his face.

“You do seem to,” Kurt agreed. “Like me, I mean. That’s been... an unexpectedly wonderful discovery.”

Puck leaned in for another kiss. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

This time the kissing accelerated more quickly into breathless groping. Puck decided he was going to have to redirect the conversation, or there was no way he wasn’t going to end up getting naked in Kurt’s office. “You got dinner plans?”

Kurt’s laugh was entirely too sexy. “Not ones involving food.”

“How does take-out sound? I could pick it up and meet you at the bar, then we could head back to your place to eat it.”

“Maybe you’d let me indulge some of my non-food desires afterward?”

“Or before. Or before and after. Like I said, I’m not likely to say no to you.”

Kurt shook his head in wonder. “Yeah, you’ll forgive me if I’m still having trouble taking that for granted. I’m the one who’s been trying to suppress my interest in you for years.”

He wasn’t going to fall into the I’ve-been-hot-for-you-since game with Kurt, because then he would be forced to admit how long he’d been mooning over Finn. Although, he had to admit, it was pretty awesome to imagine Kurt jerking off to thoughts of him in high school. He looked down at Finn’s last sappy text to them. “I’m kind of surprised he hasn’t suggested a face-to-face meeting with us yet.”

“Me too.” Kurt typed something to that effect. While they waited in silence for Finn’s response, Kurt laced his fingers through Puck’s. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, which somehow made it even better.

“I can’t yet,” Kurt read, sounding mystified. “Why not? We’re practically dating already. He’s obviously crazy about us.”

“Yeah, and it’s mutual.” He paused, then added, “We’re acting like it is, anyway. I mean… Marley is. She’s definitely crazy about him.”

Kurt glanced over at him. “You know it’s not acting.”

Puck met his eyes briefly, then looked away and shook his head. “No.”

“It’s not for me, anyway.” Kurt sounded sad, or perhaps resigned. When Puck squeezed his hand, he squeezed back. Kurt’s hand in his gave him some kind of crazy courage. He took a deep breath.

“It’s not for me, either, but... does it even matter? When Finn finds out what’s been going on, what are the chances he’s not going to want to kick my ass? So what if we’re doing this for his own good? He’s going to say, you lied to me again, and he’ll be right.”

“But you’ve actually been lying about how you feel about him for years.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not like I’m about to tell him that.”

“No, that would definitely be worse,” Kurt said fervently. “He and I went through that confrontation in high school.”

The phone chimed, and they leaned in together to look at his reply.

“No, you really are awesome,” Kurt read, “but I promised my best friends I--” He broke off with a little startled laugh, then continued. “I wouldn’t call you for three days.”

The way Kurt looked at him, Puck thought the next thing he typed might be something they’d both regret. He reached out and grabbed the phone from Kurt’s hand.

I bet your best friends didn’t expect it would be like this, he typed.

No, they just know me. I tend to jump into things. They don’t want me to seem desperate and scare you away. After a moment, Finn added, I’m not scaring you away, am I?

You do seem too good to be true, Puck said.

Kurt exhaled slowly, looking away from the screen. He pushed his chair away and stood up, retreating behind his desk, and stared out the window.

“I’m not exactly sure who’s being taught a lesson here,” he said.

Maybe we should take a break? Finn replied.

“Yeah, well.” Puck felt his stomach twist with familiar disappointment. “It’s an old fucking lesson. Seems like I should have learned it by now.”

We can do that, if you want, he told Finn. Then he tossed the phone on Kurt’s desk. It skittered past neat stacks of paper and came to a halt beside Kurt’s identical phone.

“No, no.” Kurt glanced back over his shoulder at Puck and smiled. “I understand this kind of torture. Sometimes, getting something is better than getting nothing.”

Puck decided the desk was just in the way. He walked over and joined Kurt beside the window, putting an arm around his shoulder. “Even if it’s pretend?”

“He’s not pretending,” Kurt said softly. “No matter what he thinks we look like, his feelings? Those are real.”

He sighed. “If you actually think that, Kurt, then you really are lying to yourself.”

Kurt shifted his gaze to the floor. “I’d better get back to work.”

Puck took a few steps back, letting go of Kurt’s shoulder, but Kurt didn’t move. “Okay, well… just let me know what you want to do about dinner.”

He picked up his phone and slipped it into his jacket pocket, wondering if he should check to see if Finn had responded. But Finn had suggested taking a break, and that might not be the worst idea. A little time to focus on the real world might be a good thing for all of them.

“You know what, guys?” Sam slid into the booth beside Kurt after work. “Finn is completely obsessed with this girl Marley. They have been texting practically nonstop since yesterday. If I hear one more report about her favorite food, I’m going to toss his phone off the balcony.”

“Well, you know Finn,” said Kurt. “He’s had a pretty bad year. Maybe you should give him a break.”

“No, but I’m pretty sure she’s lying about most of it. I mean, who sits around playing video games in their old cheerleading uniform?”

“Tina?”

“Besides her.”

“Me?” said Kurt. “And no judgment, please. Those Cheerios pants are remarkably comfortable.”

“Oh, and get this. Then she accidentally sent a text to him that was clearly meant for somebody else. She said, and I quote, Why don’t I pick up some takeout from Gennaros tonight, and then you can do me on the couch. ” Sam paused as Puck winced and Kurt stared at the ceiling. “Wait a minute.”

“You have the suckiest poker face, Hummel,” Puck growled.

“You’re Marley?” yelped Sam.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “We both are.”

Sam grabbed the cell phone off the table, and before Puck could snatch it away, he scrolled back to the beginning of the conversation on the screen. “What the hell?”

Puck snorted scornfully. “Come on. It was obvious Finn was gonna cave and call her before the three days were up. I swiped his cell phone and changed her number to my work number. It’s a good thing, too, because he would have completely blown his chances with the real Marley, being this needy with a chick. This way, maybe he’ll at least have a chance to see if she’s… worth his time.”

“So you’ve been carrying on a fake conversation with Finn? For eighteen hours?” Sam looked completely appalled.

“Don’t judge us,” protested Kurt. “You don’t know what it’s been like. I mean, at first, it was nothing but a little joke.”

“And now?”

Kurt glanced at Puck. His eyes were communicating something, Puck wasn’t sure, but it was complicated and it made his stomach feel funny.

“Now it’s a bigger joke,” said Puck. “Anyway, great job, Kurt, for sending a text to the wrong person from the wrong phone.”

“It’s not my fault my cell phone looks just like the one you use for work,” retorted Kurt.

Sam shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now. Here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to call Finn right now, tell him what you did, and apologize. Got it?”

He glared at them until they both looked away and nodded. When he headed for the door, Puck turned to Kurt.

“Or,” he said earnestly, “we could tell him it was just a misunderstanding.”

Kurt didn’t look at Puck as though he’d lost his mind. He just nodded again. “Because we still haven’t gotten him to say I love you.”

“It won’t take much more time,” said Puck. “There’s no way he can resist us. We’re awesome.”

“We really are.”

Their smile went on a little too long to be appropriate for a public location, but Puck let it go and leaned in over Kurt’s shoulder to look at the phone. “Okay, here’s what I think we should say…”

Back at their apartment, Sam listened in disbelief as Finn explained how Marley’s dumb friend Karol had used her phone by mistake to text her boyfriend Shane.

“And now Marley and I are better than ever,” finished Finn. He was smiling, not the gonna-get-some smile, but something softer. “I know this sounds crazy, but…”

“You’re not in love with Marley,” said Sam flatly.

“Sam, I know it’s impossible, but I really think I’m--”

“No. It’s not her. You’re in love with Kurt and Puck.”

Finn’s face went blank. “I -- what?”

“It’s been them all along, pretending to be Marley. You were never talking to her at all. It was always them, sitting down at the bar, making all of this up.”

“They were making all of this up?” Finn repeated.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

He turned and walked slowly to the couch.  “Boy. That’s... really unexpected.”

“Yeah. So you’d better tell them you’re on to them.”

Finn was quiet for a long moment, scrolling through pages of texts. He didn’t appear to be angry, or even hurt. He just looked thoughtful.

“How about instead I text them something that will really mess with their heads?” he said.

“Oh, a little taste of their own medicine, huh?” Sam considered this. “Mean, but they deserve it. How about: I haven’t told any of my friends this, but I only have three months to live.”

“No, no,” said Finn, his thumbs already moving on his phone. “I know exactly what I want to say.”

Kurt made a fresh salad to go with the Italian takeout. Puck wasn’t generally a salad guy, but he ate every bite, smiling at Kurt’s animated summary of the issues he’d encountered at work. Eventually Kurt paused and closed his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” said Kurt. “I didn’t mean to go on like that.”

“Hey, do you see me complaining?” He reached out and touched Kurt’s hand. “You’re used to talking about your day with your boyfriend. I’m used to hanging out with guys at the bar before coming home to an empty apartment.”

He fiddled with his fork. “Well, the last few years, I’ve been mostly on my own while Blaine was at rehearsals. I guess I miss having someone to talk to.”

“Trust me, I get it,” Puck nodded. “Not that it’s not easier to do my own thing sometimes, but this is definitely better. Wine, non-paper plates… I mean, I don’t know the last time I had actual vegetables in my dinner.”

Kurt’s smile was brilliant. It made Puck want to set dinner aside and get to the dessert, but he told himself sternly to relax.

“I had to do something to apologize for using the wrong phone to text Finn,” said Kurt. “God, I didn’t think that was actually possible. I must have been really distracted.”

Finn’s response to Kurt’s gaffe had been both flattered and panicked, saying I really can’t and I mean I really want to, before Kurt reassured him the text had been meant for someone else.

“And now he’s gonna think you’re cheating on him with somebody else,” said Puck.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t I?”

“We’re a collective, though. So in this situation, you’re cheating with me, who is also us. Isn’t that more like… I don’t know, masturbation?”

Kurt started to laugh. “Are you trying to say it’s permissible to cheat within the collective? If I were sleeping with anybody else -- which I am not -- that would be a problem, but because it’s you, it’s fine?”

It was too hard to think about it without feeling both sad and turned on, so Puck simply shook his head. “I think we should just be glad it was Finn. Anybody else who got a text like that, meant for somebody else, would have said fuck this, I’m outta here.”

Kurt’s laughter subsided to a wistful smile. “Finn’s the only one I can imagine being the subject of something like this.”

“Yeah?”

“Unless you have another friend you’ve been secretly in love with for years.”

Puck licked his lips and folded his napkin, then reached for the wine bottle. “Okay, come on, get the phone. He said six-thirty, and it’s already two minutes past.”

Kurt followed him and the bottle of cabernet to the couch with the phone. Puck was ready to put everything aside and spend a little time straddling Kurt on that couch when Kurt grabbed his leg. “Oooh! He texted back already. Listen to this. I probably shouldn’t tell you this... I mean we barely know each other... but what the hell, I’ll just say it.”  

Puck grinned while Kurt fired off a quick reply. “Here comes the I love you.”

Kurt’s anticipatory smile froze on his face, then disappeared. “Whoa.”

“What did he say?”

“I sometimes have gay dreams about my best friend.”

Puck’s first reaction was laughter, but when Kurt’s expression didn’t change, he pulled the phone over to read the words for himself.

“Why would Finn text a girl he barely knows that he sometimes has gay dreams about you?”

Kurt’s forehead furrowed. He shook his head. “No, wait a minute. He’s clearly talking about you. You’re his best friend.”

“Maybe when we were ten, sure. But now, who does he call every weekend? Him and me, we just hang out at the bar together.” Puck gestured at Kurt. “Plus if anyone were to have gay dreams about one of us, it would be you. I mean, look at you.”

Kurt actually gaped at him. Then he laughed. “Are you kidding me? Between the two of us, there’s no contest. Finn doesn’t care the first thing about fashion. You’ve got the most incredible body.”

“Dude, you go to the gym more than I do, and don’t try to pretend you don’t. Trust me, I notice. And that’s not what Finn wants, anyway. You’d cook for him. You’d make dinner, and then you’d suck his dick, and then you’d talk all night while snuggling. Game over.”

“Oh, no,” Kurt said, shaking his head again, more insistently. “You’d pull out your guitar, which would cause him to melt all over this couch. He’d be begging to go down on you. And you’d do just fine reciprocating. Or you’d talk dirty to him, and he’d bottom for you in about five seconds.”

The image was more than compelling, but Puck shrugged it away. “Oh, man, Kurt, give me a break. Do you have any idea what kind of fantasies you inspire? You do this thing with your lips, it drives me crazy. There is nobody as hot as you. If Finn were to fall for any guy, it would never be me. It would totally be you.”

Kurt seemed to be struck speechless by this declaration. When Puck leaned over to kiss him hungrily, Kurt met him with equal fervor. The phone slid to the floor and remained there while they struggled out of their clothes.

“I know you said you wanted to do me on this couch,” Puck panted, his hands skating over every naked surface he could reach, “but you think you could deal with me on top right now?”

Kurt nodded emphatically. “You know where I keep the supplies.”

As he hurried to the bedroom and returned with condoms and lube, Puck rehearsed his next sentence. He thought it through about eight times before deciding there really was no uncomplicated way to say it. Then he dragged Kurt to the edge of the couch and knelt there, finding the ways in which their bodies matched up.

“This,” whispered Puck. “I really want to watch him doing this to you.”

The sound Kurt made in response was immediate and loud. “God. All I can think about are the things you could do to him. You would blow his mind.”

It wasn’t the first time Puck had shared his fantasies about guys with someone he was having sex with, but it was definitely the first time that person knew exactly who he was talking about. They quickly lost their words, but they both kept their eyes wide open throughout the entire brief encounter.

When Puck gathered Kurt up afterward and held him, he could feel Kurt crying.

“Hey,” Puck said softly, but Kurt turned his face away.

“Do you think I’m using you?” Kurt asked, his voice tight.

“No more than I’m using you. And I’m letting you, so I don’t think it counts.”

“Because I like you. I -- I like you a lot.”

Puck nodded, handing Kurt a tissue before climbing up to sit beside him on the couch. “I know. It’s not about that. I don’t care that I’m not really who you’re thinking about.”

Kurt cried a little more. Eventually he deflated into a miserable little pile. “I really don’t get that. How can you not be upset about me thinking about him?”

He danced around several answers before finally saying, “I don’t need to be selfish. What do I care how many guys you want to fuck if you’re also fucking me?”

Kurt nodded slowly, taking that in as he wiped his eyes. Then he looked up and smiled. “You were exactly who I needed right now.”

Puck hugged him again, holding on until he was sure he wasn’t going to start blubbering himself. One of them crying was plenty. “I vote for finishing this conversation in your bed.”

“With Finn or without?”

He picked up the fallen phone and waved it. “What do you think?”

It was a lot easier to get naked and lie down with Kurt now that some of the most complicated words had been said. Puck wrapped his arms around him from behind and watched over his shoulder as Kurt talked to Finn about the gay dreams.

“Tell him you’ve had a thing for your stepbrother since you were in high school,” Puck said.

Kurt chuckled. He was completely relaxed now, warm and pliable in his arms. “You don’t have a stepbrother. Remember, it’s your family.”

“Oh, right. Well…” He buried his nose in Kurt’s neck and took a fortifying breath. “Then tell him you’ve had a thing for your best friend since you were in grade school.”

Kurt typed that. Then he twisted back around far enough to look into Puck’s eyes. “I’m not worried about that, okay? Like I said, I understand.”

“It’s just... I guess I know how I expect this to end now.”

Kurt nodded. “You’re not going to tell him it was us.”

“I can’t, can I? At some point Marley’s simply not going to text him back. I’ll get my work number changed, and... that’ll be the end of it.”

The phone chimed, and they both swiveled to focus on it. Kurt held it up so they could read the screen together. I suppose I should just tell him about the dreams. I mean, we tell each other everything.

Puck swallowed as Kurt let out a sigh. “This is the worst unintentional guilt trip.”

“I know. Makes me want to give up this shit completely.”

“Why don’t I just tell him it was me?” said Kurt. “Then you’d be off the hook. He already knows how I felt about him in high school.”

“No way,” Puck said vehemently. “Think about how super-awkward every family gathering would be after that. No, I think I should tell him it was me, and say the whole thing was a joke. Plus, his dreams have always been crazy. The guy dreams about talking french fries, for crying out loud. So what if he had sex dreams about you.”

“I’m telling you, he was having those dreams about you.” Kurt hid his face in his hand. “God. We really are assholes. Why did we ever think this was okay?”

“Because we’re fucking desperate?” Puck nudged Kurt’s wrist with his knuckles. “It’s okay to keep a secret like this from him, Kurt. He wouldn’t have wanted you to be uncomfortable.”

“Or you,” said Kurt, but he emerged from behind his hand and focused on the screen. “Okay, okay. I’m just going to say, Having dreams about another man doesn’t make you gay.”

“I dunno,” Puck murmured. “You haven’t seen my dreams.”

“You can tell me all about them. Anyway, I’d like to think we’ve moved beyond two possible options when it comes to sexual orientation? You’ve always been pretty fluid. There’s no reason Finn couldn’t be, too.”

“No,” said Puck. He tried not to grit his teeth. “No, he can’t be, and I can’t be either, and the reason is we live in the middle of fucking Ohio, and the things I want aren’t okay with most people, including my mom.”

Kurt shrugged. “She’s always been nice to me.”

“You really want to see what would happen if I brought you home and told her --”

Puck cut himself off, not looking at Kurt. But Kurt was suddenly looking at him.

“Told her what?” he said softly.

“Never mind.”

“You think she’d be upset if you and I started dating?”

He snorted, trying to stuff down the panic. “She’d have a lot to say to me in private, that’s for sure.”

“Well, what if you and Finn--”

“That’s never going to happen, okay?” His voice came out louder than he’d intended. Kurt flinched back against the pillow, his eyes wide.

“He’s having dreams about one of us.”

“Yeah, and so fucking what? Finn’s been chasing girls since he was eight. He’s not about to wake up and go, oh, check it out, I didn’t realize for the past fifteen years that dick would be an acceptable alternative. He’s just going to keep hoping that the next girl is the one who’s going to fix all his problems, and when she isn’t, I’m going to keep being the one to pick up the fucking pieces at the bar the next day.”

His voice broke on the words fix all his problems, but he pushed through to the end of the sentence anyway. Kurt carefully set the phone on the headboard and put his arms around Puck, making embarrassing little shushing noises. Puck struggled in his embrace.

“This is not who I am, Kurt,” he protested. “This is not who I am with Finn, or with you. With anybody.”

“Well, you’re not Finn’s dream girlfriend either,” said Kurt, sounding a little aggravated, “but together we’ve played her pretty convincingly. How’s it feel?”

Puck screwed up his face and glared at him. “Fucking weird.”

“Because you don’t like it or because you think other people won’t?”

When Puck didn’t reply, Kurt put a hand on the back of his head and pulled him into a long, slow kiss. It was the kind of kiss Puck would have used on a girl to get her to stop arguing and start rubbing her body against him. It worked just as well on him.

“Okay,” said Kurt breathlessly. “How does it feel to be with me, then?”

Puck kissed him back, picking up where Kurt had left off. He was pleased to notice how quickly they’d both recovered from their earlier activities on the couch, but Kurt still seemed to be waiting for an answer from him.

“You want the truth?” He hovered close to Kurt’s mouth, feeling each exhalation land on his cheek.

“Yeah, I do.”

“No bullshit rules about not moving too fast?”

“Yes, please.”

“This is pretty much the best thing I’ve ever had. Which maybe isn’t saying much, but it’s scaring the crap out of me.” Puck paused to gather his courage, then added, “And I’m still wishing things were different with Finn. How’s that for pathetic?”

Kurt was still watching him, focusing directly on his lips as he spoke. It was sharply sweet to have Kurt this close, to be able to see every tiny discrete movement of the muscles of his face. Even as he wanted to roll his eyes at himself, Puck could feel himself sinking, drowning in the embrace of Kurt’s enormous bed, and the support of his arms.

“God,” Puck muttered. “I am so fucked.”

“Beg pardon,” Kurt said, “but I think that would be we are so fucked. We’re a collective, remember? Which implies we’re in this together.” He chased Puck’s gaze with his own until they met, and held it. “So are we?”

“Are we what?”

“In this.”

In this. Whatever part of himself that was sure he hadn’t yet had enough sex took the opportunity to wake up and start grinding against Kurt’s leg. He groaned as Kurt’s hands cinched themselves around his ass and pulled the two of them more tightly together.

“You want to be in this?” Puck asked.

Kurt nodded quickly. “I want that so much. I had no idea I wanted that with you, but it’s so good. It’s so good.”

He couldn’t deny that, but even as Kurt was reaching for the strip of condoms, something made him say, “But you just broke up with Blaine.”

Kurt used two hands to rip open the square foil packet. It seemed to be taking all his attention, so Puck reached out to help him. As he did, Kurt grabbed his wrist and held it tight. He spoke rapid-fire, like it was taking all his energy to keep it going and he didn’t want to stop.

“If you can tell me with any kind of certainty that you could sit at that table in the bar with me and Finn and Sam and not give everything away about you and me, I might consider trying to keep it a secret. But I’m not at all sure I can do that.”

Puck nodded, waiting. The conflict playing across Kurt’s face mirrored how he was feeling so exactly that it almost made him smile.

“The truth is,” Kurt went on, his voice remarkably steady, “the feelings I have for Finn might as well be pretend for all the good they’re doing me. Finn isn’t in any position to give me what I need. I think what happened with Rachel hurt him more than he knows, and even now, years later, he hasn’t recovered. He’s still looking for that dream.”

“But you’re still waiting for him to wake up,” said Puck. “Just like I am.”

“Right.” Kurt let go of his wrist, and watched while Puck rolled the condom onto him. “So if you can live with the idea that I’m more invested in waiting for a fantasy than accepting a reality, I don’t think we need to be worried about moving too fast. This is what we’ve got, right here. You and me, together.”

Puck nodded. He felt strangely relieved. “Yeah. That’s okay.”

Their second time in less than an hour was slow, almost methodical. Puck let himself appreciate the vision of Kurt kneeling over him in the light, in the open. He wasn’t going to worry about going too fast here, or too slowly. He was just going to let it be what it was.

They were sitting with Sam at their table in the bar, dissecting the most recent episode of their favorite police procedural, when Finn strode in. He gave them a thoughtful smile as he sat down next to Sam.

“Man,” said Finn, “I had a really strange dream last night.”

Sam snickered. “Talking french fries again?”

“No, this was different. It was about us. Kind of.”

“Us,” repeated Kurt. He gave Finn a casual nod. “Which us?”

“You know, the four of us. Well, later it was two of us. That wasn’t the weird part, though. It was, um.” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“No, no,” Puck protested quickly. “Come on. You can’t leave us hanging. Another infamous Finn Hudson dream. What happened?”

“Well…” He glanced around them and lowered his voice. “It’s a little embarrassing.”

All of them leaned in a little closer, reducing the space between them to almost nothing. “Nobody’s going to make fun of you,” said Kurt.

“Well, I might,” Puck offered. Sam kicked him under the table, and he didn’t attempt to protest.

“Okay.” Finn ran a hand over his face and sighed. “This is what happened. We were all walking toward the woods, the one you can get to across from the high school, where the fence has a hole in it? Except in my dream, there was no hole in the fence. We had to walk all the way around the corner and under the overpass to get to the woods, and by the time we got down there, it was raining, so we just sat there on the sidewalk, playing with the echo…” He put his hands to his mouth and made his voice sound hollow and resonant. “Marco.”

“Polo,” they all chorused back. Kurt laughed.

“Like that,” agreed Finn. “And there was all this trash on the sidewalk, not gross garbage, just junk, papers and plastic bags and snack wrappers and stuff, but we didn’t pick it up, we just ignored it and waited for the rain to stop. So then Kurt, you went over to the edge and you looked out at the rain, it was really coming down by now, and you said, You know, it’s barely raining at all. And the rest of us looked at you like you were crazy, but you were sure it wasn’t raining. And you said, I’m just going to head over to the woods now. And you took off.”

They all looked at Kurt, and he stared back.

“Dude, in the rain?” Puck asked.

Kurt flailed his arms. “It was his dream!”

“So then we were there, and it started raining more, and it was getting dark, not so dark you couldn’t see the woods, but it was definitely darker. And Sam, you went over to where Kurt had been, and you were, like, No, it’s totally raining, he was insane to go out in that. We’d better wait it out. And then... this alien showed up.”

“An alien,” said Puck. “How did you know it was an alien?”

“Like, you could tell it was an alien, but that was about it.”

“Did it appear out of nowhere, or did it come in from the rain?” asked Sam.

“I don’t even know. I guess it was just there. I didn’t ask. You know how dreams are.” Finn stared at his hands. “And Puck, you said, Hey, Kurt, you made it back.”

“Oh, weird,” Sam said, laughing. “Like the rain transformed him or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Finn said. “It was more like he’d been that way all the time and I never realized.”

Kurt looked like he was trying hard to keep smiling, but he was clearly uncomfortable. “Okay.”

“Yeah, I was like, That’s not Kurt, that’s an alien. And Puck said, No way, it’s totally Kurt. Can’t you tell?” Finn chewed on his lip and looked over at Puck. “Only I couldn’t.”

“That’s pretty creepy,” said Sam. He’d stopped smiling, too.

“So I decided I was going to go out into the rain to find Kurt. I mean, that clearly wasn’t him, and I knew where he went. It was raining really hard by now, and I got totally soaked. So wet I could barely move. Like, it was pushing me around, and I couldn’t figure out which way to go. I just kind of stumbled around, hoping I’d notice the trees or find Kurt or something I recognized.”

They sat there in silence for a few moments. Puck moved the hot sauce from one side of the salt-and-pepper shakers to the other.

“Did you?” he asked. “Find Kurt?”

“No,” he said. “I found another alien. A different one. This one didn’t look anything like Kurt, either. But it followed me, and we eventually got back to the overpass, and Kurt was still gone, and now so was Puck? And this time Sam said, Oh, hey, Puck.”

“Jesus,” whispered Kurt. He looked a little ill. “That’s--”

“Wait, I’m not done. I was completely sure Sam was wrong, but I didn’t want to argue, so I went out in the rain again to look for Puck. This time I think I had a better idea of where to go, because I ended up in the woods. It wasn’t so wet there, but it was still cold, and now I was alone, so I started looking around, hoping to find Kurt or Puck. And then, all of a sudden, in front of me, the three of you were there with this big umbrella, standing there like you’d been waiting there for me the whole time. And Kurt held up these alien masks, and Puck, you said…” He smiled. “You said, Pretty good joke, huh?”

They all looked at one another again.

“Uh, not really,” said Sam. “Kind of an awful one, actually.”

“Well, that’s what I thought. I figured, if they really had been aliens, at least it could have explained it. I knew my real best friends would never have played such a horrible, cruel joke on somebody they cared about.”

Kurt winced and looked away. Puck got ready to say something in his defense, but before he could speak, Finn got up.

“You know what,” said Finn, “I think I’m just too tired to hang out tonight. I’m going to head home. ‘Night.”

Kurt rested his face in his hands and let out a shaky breath as Finn disappeared through the front door. Sam glared at Puck.

“You didn’t tell him what you guys were doing, did you.”

“No. I guess he figured it out anyway.”

“Dude, I told him.”

Kurt dropped his hands and stared at him in horror. “You!?”

“Yes! When I got back to the apartment and you obviously hadn’t. He was about to tell me he was in love with Marley. And I said…” Sam shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe you didn’t--”

“What did you say?” Puck interrupted.

“What?”

“When you told him. What did you say?”

“I said it was you. That you’d been sitting down here the whole time, making it all up. He wasn’t in love with Marley; he was in love with you guys.” Sam wiggled his fingers noncommittally. “Sort of. You know what I mean.”

“I know,” said Kurt. Suddenly he got up, grabbed his bag and rushed out the door. Both Puck and Sam stood up too, but they just stood there, watching him go.

“I didn’t mean to freak him out,” Sam said. “Yeah, okay, it was a mean joke, but…” He shrugged in confusion. “Finn’ll get over it, you know?”

“I know,” Puck said heavily. “I’ll go after Kurt. It’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

Puck wasn’t sure at all, but it was true he and Finn had gotten through worse shit in high school, and Finn and Kurt sure as hell had, too. There was a chance they could figure it out.

Heading out the door to the sidewalk, he wasn’t sure who he should be following. He pulled out his phone and texted Finn. Where are you?

Who is this?

You know who this is, dork. It’s Puck.

I don’t know if I should believe what I think I know, Finn replied. I can’t take the name on my phone for granted anymore.

Puck stopped on the corner and glared at his phone. Are you really going to punish all of us with this kind of wounded martyr bullshit?

I don’t want to punish anybody. Then, Maybe I did a little, but I’m already over it.

So what do you want? Puck typed slowly. He hesitated before pressing Send.

Nothing.

He crossed at the light and headed south, ignoring most of the passers-by and shoving his way through the rest of them. If he wasn’t going to be able to yell at Finn, he would just take it out on the rest of the city.

“Fuck this,” he muttered, and pressed Call. He put the phone to his ear and waited for Finn to pick up. It rang four times and went to voicemail. “Fuck!” he said again, much louder this time. A woman walking by with her daughter glared at him.

He hung up and called Kurt. This time it took six rings to go to voicemail.

“This is not as bad as you think it is,” Puck said. “I know that sucked, but we deserved it. Now it’s over and we can -- just call me back.”

He hung up again. This time he stood there, fuming, for another thirty seconds before turning around and heading toward his car.

This was bad. Yes, things had been bad between them in the past, but this felt bad in an entirely new and irreparable way. The whole way over to Finn’s, Puck tried to conjure up a vision in his head of what life with Finn and Kurt might look like after today, and all he could see was a fake, strained, laugh-track sitcom version of what they had been doing for the past ten years. Just thinking about it made him want to puke.

Finn didn’t buzz him into the building when he arrived on the porch of his complex, so Puck waited around until somebody else came out, then ducked inside. He took the stairs up to the second floor two at a time.

“Finn,” he called, giving the door a good one-two-three thump with the side of his fist. “Come on, open up. I’m gonna piss off your neighbors until you let me inside.”

“No,” said Finn through the door.

“It was a fucking joke.”

“I know. That’s why I’m not letting you in.”

The cold feeling in his stomach spread to his chest, making it hard to breathe. Puck leaned back against the wall.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear.”

“I know you didn’t,” Finn said again.

“Don’t blame Kurt,” he begged. “This was me, not him. You know he wouldn’t have done something like this.”

“I thought I knew that. He did it, though.”

“But you don’t know all of it.”

“I know enough. Just… go home, Puck.”

Puck had never been one to judge how far was too far to push Finn, so he stuck around another five minutes, long enough for it to be clear that Finn wasn’t going to respond to further pleas, but finally he had to give up. There was no sense in standing around in the hallway for nothing.

He called Kurt twice on the way home, but Kurt still wasn’t picking up. Puck didn’t even think about going back to the bar. Instead, he drove over to Kurt’s office to see if he might be there. Then he called Sam.

Sam sounded pissed, but at least he’d answered his phone. “What?”

“Look, can you just tell Finn—“ Puck began, but Sam cut him off.

“Dude, he’s not even talking to me right now, and I didn’t even do anything. I think you’re just gonna have to wait until he gets over it.”

“Yeah.” Puck swallowed, staring up at Kurt’s fourth-floor window. It was indeed impossible to see what was going on in there from the ground. “I guess that was a pretty shitty joke.”

“Since when do you ever play nice jokes?”

He just hung his head. He could feel the weight of everything pulling it down. “Yeah. I guess not. Would you tell him not to blame Kurt for this?”

“I’ll tell him.”

As Puck hung up, Kurt’s office window, which had been lit, went dark. He scrambled out of the car and jogged across the parking lot in order to be in sight of the door when Kurt emerged from the lobby.

When Kurt saw him, he paused for just a moment before brushing past him toward his Cadillac.

“Are you going to refuse to talk to me, too?” Puck asked, following a few steps behind.

“Puck, this isn’t a good idea.”

“This?”

“This,” Kurt echoed. His hands wrapped around his own arms, and he gave Puck a reproachful glance. “Us.”

“Okay, I think we established that already.” Puck took a couple long strides and ended up in front of him, blocking his path to the car. Kurt wheeled away, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath. “You’re right! It’s stupid. Like a guy like you and a guy like me could ever—“

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Kurt glared at him. “Excuse me, can I put my briefcase in the car, please? This is Gucci.”

He hovered beside Kurt while he set his bag in the back seat. “Look. I’m not saying I — it’s just, this whole thing with Finn, and the way things have gone this week with you, I didn’t expect—“

He cut himself off. In the three seconds he took to compose himself, Puck watched Kurt’s own expression cycle from anger to pain, to uncertainty, and back to anger again.

“You didn’t expect?” said Kurt. “What about me? How am I going to ever face Finn again? It took me years to convince him I was over him. He’s part of my family. It’s not like I can just stop going home.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He hoped it came out sounding the way he meant, with complete sincerity, and not like he was trying to weasel out of taking responsibility for the situation. “I’m going to do everything I can to fix it, okay? For all we know, he still thinks all of it was a big joke.”

“It’s not,” said Kurt. He wasn’t crying, but the way he was acting, Puck thought he might start any second. “And I don’t think I can go back to pretending it was.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” He moved in close, close enough that his jacket brushed against Kurt’s stomach.

Kurt could have eliminated the contact between them just by taking one step back, but he didn’t. He stood there, waiting, while Puck reached out and rested a hand on his rib cage.  Kurt’s body was trembling, his heart beating a little too fast.

“I can’t pretend about this, Kurt, ” Puck said. “No matter how stupid an idea it is. You said you didn’t want to, either. Do you still feel that way?”

Kurt put his hand on top of Puck’s. He didn’t push Puck’s hand away. Instead, he held it closer, pressing it against him, like it was some essential thing and he didn’t want to let it go.

“I just wanted a little time to get used to being without Blaine,” Kurt said. “I haven’t been single since high school.”

It sounded very reasonable. Even Kurt’s tone of voice was reasonable, but his expression didn’t match his tone. Puck wanted to kiss that look off his face, to throw him up against the car and make Kurt’s logical mind shut up for a few minutes. Instead, he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

Kurt sighed. “You made it clear you didn’t want to tell your mom.”

“I don’t. But I think it might be worth doing it anyway.”

He watched Kurt’s anger evaporate. “You… you would do that?”

“Hey, I know I’m asking a lot. If you’d rather be single than keep doing this thing with me, I’d understand why. But if you want to keep trying, it seems only fair I should take some risks, too.”

Now Kurt just looked stunned. “You’d come out because of me?”

Whatever jokes Puck might have made about the situation forty-eight hours ago, there was no way he was going to make them now. He leaned in and let his lips brush against Kurt’s, waiting until Kurt reciprocated to put his arms around him.

“This isn’t about Finn,” he said against Kurt’s cheek. “I guess that was the reason it came up, but this, you and me, it’s… its own thing. I’m asking you. I know it’s a bad idea, and way too soon, and… I’m still asking.”

Kurt kissed him again in response. Maybe Kurt was crying now and maybe he wasn’t; it was hard to tell where the wetness on their skin had come from. Kurt’s hug left him breathless.

“Can we get out of this parking lot?” asked Kurt.

“You could come over to my place, if you want, but my bed’s not nearly as awesome as yours.”

Now Kurt was smiling. That smile might have been the best thing Puck had ever seen. “I liked having you in my bed.”

Puck followed Kurt back to his apartment. He left his work phone in the glove compartment. Whatever else was going on in their fucked-up circle of friends, Kurt deserved to have somebody focus on him for a change.