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Today will be a long day. Just like yesterday. The same hallways, same faces, same time. Admittedly, there is some comfort in the monotonicity of it all. But I mostly find it stifling. I guess that explains why I put so much effort in my clothes, making sure I pick the right colours and pieces, setting my mood for the day. These clothes have become my armour, my joy, my amour.
There are a few more things I could tell you about myself, if you’ll be interested enough to listen. My mother died when I was eight, my dad has a garage and I spend a lot of time with my friends Mercedes and Tina. I wouldn’t say I’m bullied but I’m definitely picked on, I guess. My out-and-proud-ness offends some people, as well as my impeccable sense of style. I mean, I try to just block it all out but it does get to me sometimes. Of course it would! Imagine a bunch of people twice your size shoving you around all day everyday for something you don’t even have control over. Somedays I really feel all alone, like no one cares what happens to me. Some days feel like they go on and on forever, time laughing at my state of mind. There have been days where I concluded that I really wouldn’t be missed anyway, should I disappear. Well the thought’s there, it’s just a matter of time before they materialize into action.
Hi. I’m Kurt Hummel, and I’m very pleased to meet you.

Most of my thoughts however, are of one Noah Puckerman.

He’s interesting. Yes, he starred in many a nightmare for my closet due to his weird habit of throwing slushies and heaving me into dumpsters in freshman year. Yes, he repented and is currently in Glee Club with me. Yes, he’s handsome even with that stupid slab of hair he calls his ‘badass’ mohawk. He looks like a furrow. Albeit a handsome one. Damn it. He doesn’t pay much attention to what he wears, I’ve noticed from days of eyeing his outfits. He repeats shirts without breaking a sweat and re-wears jeans like no one’s business. What with his tank tops and those same low rise jeans all the time, he’d look like a real wreck if he wasn’t so awfully fit. Damn it!

Now that I’m back at McKinley, he has been hovering around me a whole lot. There was the whole Karofsky thing which everyone just feels so bad about. Funny, they feel so bad but no one was helping me out while it was happening. Heh. Then, there’s this whole Secret Service thing the Glocks started. Namely, Finn, Mike, Sam and Noah. Artie too, but he’s more of a shield since no one would touch me if he draped himself over me. Or, I think that’s what he’s going for. Santana and Dave tried to start something too though I’m pretty sure they’re just each other’s beards. Whatever keeps me safe, I guess. So what if my reformed bully has come to terms with the fact that he likes dicks? So what if my step-brother can’t give me two minutes of breathing space? So WHAT I will probably never get my teenage dream happy ever after? And most definitely not with the jackass with the stupid mohawk who used to chuck me into dumpsters? (What kind of weird crush do I even have on him, am I a masochist or something?) Nothing really matters, I guess. Is this some kind of Nirvana thing? Rising above all the worldly problems. Huh. I think it’s good, though. Indifference looks good on me.


“Hey, princess.”

Son of a bitch.

“Nice shirt.”


“Are you icing me out or something?”

“No, Noah. I’m not. I could if you wanted though? Whatever works for you.” I flashed him a wide smile.

“Did something happen with the jocks or something?” He scrunched his eyebrows and looked at me.

“No, everything’s fine. So you and all the Glee guys can stop following me everywhere!”

Damn it, he sounds so concerned. What is wrong with me today?!

“Okay, something’s up. Settle your shit if you want to act pissy with me. I don’t have time for this.”

“Why? Are you going to be late for remedial shop?”

I was maybe yelling a bit, but yelling in hallways at retreating figures seems to be the norm here anyways. I thought back on his words a little. What was making me so mad today? Everything at school seems to be going alright. That’s a major improvement seeing how school caused me so much grief only half a year ago. I’ve only gotten a few body checks and some weird looks, but nothing at the level of the Karofsky situation last year. What the hell.

Walking to AP Physics, alone for once. Feels nice, I can hear myself think for once. Oh boy, do I have a lot to think about.


Obviously, I'm confused as hell. On one hand, I’d be damned if I let him slip out of my grasp like that. On another hand, why the hell should I forgive him after all the crap he did to me? I guess, people change and all that. I guess. Even if they are egoistic bullies who slept with anything with a pulse. I guess. Why did he suddenly care about what I thought of him anyway? Now that I think about it, he was making small talk with me this morning, wasn’t he? Good Gaga, I am the Kurt Hummel, what am I doing here? Letting some rando mess with my head like this. But if I just block this out, I’d never know what he actually wants, right? Huh. Okay. So maybe Kurt Hummel wants answers. I pulled my phone out and scrolled through my contacts list.

Come to the Nav after school. I want to talk to you.


k. i hv detention doe. gta be quik.

Cool. Not surprised that he can’t spell. But cool.



Okay, honestly? I have no clue what Hummel wants to talk about. And that freaks me the hell out. Is he gonna have some homo crisis and get mad at me all over again? That’d really suck. I mean, he’s pretty cool under all the weird crap he likes to wear. He’s also been doing something different with his hair. His fringe is all swooshed up and you can see his whole face now, pretty. He’s also lost some weight since he went to Gay Hogwarts, I’d have thought the food there would be better than here but the schedule must be pretty tight too. Speaking of tight, his jeans are a fucking state offense. Seriously, he looks like a girl from behind when he wears those tight-ass jeans. I’m not complaining though, he has a better ass than half the Cheerios anyway. Wasn’t he one at some point? I could have sworn he was. But then again, that was Old Kurt. Before all the crap with Karofsky, the Gay Hogwarts, the clingy whiny Hobbit. Now he’s New Kurt. Or just Kurt. Hummel. Whatever. It’s fucking hot out here, where the hell is he?

Damn. Ring the fucking church bell, that boy is gorgeous.

He was striding through the school doors and right towards me. Damn, I was not joking when I said he looked snatched in that shirt. The… blue? Looks really, really good on him. Actually, maybe it’s one of those colour shifting shirts. It’s looking less blue and more purple-ish the more he steps out into the Sun. Shit. The Sun. He’s getting closer. Come on, Puckerman, say something!

“Missed me already?” Fuck! That’s so trashy.

He scrunched up his face at that. Typical. “No, Noah. Just wanted to talk.” I felt the Nav unlock against my back. “Get in.”

“Why can’t we just talk out here?” I turned to him, a little confused.

“Well, we wouldn’t want anyone to say I’m turning you, would we?” He smiled as he said that, but it wasn’t one of the classic Hummel ‘I’m better than you’ smiles. This one looked a little sad. Huh. I got in the Nav’s passenger seat and turned to face him. Drumming my fingers on the console, I asked him.

“So? What did you want to talk about?”

He gave me an apprehensive look and carefully smoothed his messenger bag down on his lap. Over his very nice thighs. Slim. I could probably wrap my hands around one.

“Okay, I know we’ve been sort of friends since I got back from Dalton. It’s nice. You don’t treat me like I’ve got the plague and I don’t treat you like you have two brain cells. Pretty good, if you ask me. You want to know why I was so annoyed this morning? I’m annoyed because you keep flirting with me. Telling me I’m "hot" and stuff.” He said slowly, complete with air-quote marks.

He paused. His hands left the messenger bag in his lap and he turned to face me. I felt my cheeks go a bit hot at that. What the hell? You’re a sex shark, Puckerman. Since when do you blush? And since when do you blush over Kurt fucking Hummel? His sharp blue eyes met mine over the console, intense. Damn, he has really pretty eyes too. I am suddenly very aware of the console between us, six inches separating us since (when did I move?) I was now also leaning over it, mirroring him.

“Tell me it’s a joke. Tell me you’re just joking and we’re just friends. Say that you have zero interest in me and we can just forget this ever happened and go back to being just bros. I need to hear you say it before I get the wrong idea over here.”

His eyes are a little cloudy around the edges, but he’s holding his strong gaze. This boy means business. Damn. When did he get so direct and bold? This is different from his slight bitching and smart aleck responses. This Kurt Hummel takes no shit from anyone, and no way in hell will he take any from me.

“What’s the wrong idea here?” Shit. What kind of answer was that? I’m just confusing him now.

He looked up at me across the console.

“That you liked me, Noah. That you maybe, just maybe, like how I dress. And how my voice sounds. That you maybe want to hang out with me more often, without Finn around. Or maybe hang out with me as more than friends. That’s the wrong idea.” Long exhale. Bright eyes, I noted.

What’s so wrong about that?

To be honest, that sounds pretty great. I have thought of hanging out with Hummel, just the two of us. Dude kicks ass at Black Ops, plus some of his sing-songy musicals are actually kinda funny when you get over how much singing and dancing there is in them. All that plus being able to take off his pretty layers, cuddle him and maul his face when I felt like it? Still, sounds great. Amazing almost. Hm. I don’t know where that came from, though. Feels sudden to actually be thinking about it, but it doesn’t feel new or like some epiphany crap. Looks like my mind realized it even before I did. I, Noah Puckerman have got it bad, very very bad, for one Kurt Hummel. I have the hots for Kurt Hummel. What the fuck? I felt a familiar shit-eating grin spread itself over my face.

“Noah, please say something. You’re freaking me out.” He held his ground above the console, but I could see how nervous he was. Skittish, almost.

“That sounds pretty great, Princess. Not a wrong idea at all.”

“What did you say?” His blue eyes are blown wide now, from shock I’d assume. Cute.

“I said,” I leaned further across the console, closing a bit more distance between us. “What’s so bad about that idea?”

I can really see his face now. He really does have perfect skin. His eyebrows are a light brown, lighter than his hair. He’s got some widow’s peak action going on too. His cheeks are a little pink, like how he’d get when he was embarrassed, and his lips are really pretty too. They look soft. I bet he wears Chapstick and lip gloss like a girl. I wonder if he’s kissed anyone since he and Hobbit broke up. Did he and the Hobbit ever seriously make out? How far did they go? God, Puckerman, shut up! Focus. Wow. He is just so goddamn pretty.

I spoke against his slightly parted lips, I knew he could feel my breath now. We were almost forehead to forehead. But still, my face was still over his. Did I move to be on top? Or did he shift back when I surged closer? I can’t remember.

“Kurt. Can I kiss you, Kurt?”

He shuddered, something racking against his spine. Arousal? Fear? Sky blue orbs met my hazel as he stared at me, forcing me to drag my eyes up from his lips. Just this is nice too, I thought. If he doesn’t let me kiss him and we just share oxygen like this. Still pretty good.

His eyes flew over my face, scanning every freckle and line. Slowly, he brought his head just the slightest bit closer to mine, bumping our foreheads. Leaning in some more, lining up his nose right next to mine. Our lips, just almost touching. God, I could feel my heart racing in my chest. Since when did a simple kiss do this to me? He was so, so close now. I could feel the heat warming off his cheeks. This was so much better than anything I’ve ever done.

It was a whisper, just the one. If we weren’t so close, I would have missed it.

“Yes please, Noah.”

I surged forward, gently pressing my lips to his. God, if I was some sappy romantic loser I’d say there was an electric current rushing through that chaste kiss. Just some contact, then I pulled away. Not far enough to break our contact, just to give him some time to take that in. I looked at his closed eyelids, waiting for him to say something. He opened his eyes after what felt like a lifetime, and wow. They were blown wide open, this time I knew for sure from arousal. I felt a shiver run down my spine from knowing that I did that to him. Hot damn. If I had to guess, I’m sure mine mirrored exactly how his eyes looked right now.

His mouth tweaked upwards a little, a tiny grin on his face. This time, he did the chasing.

I felt his soft, smooth lips against mine. This was so good. I reached out and touched his cheek, caressing it while we kissed. Feeling bold, I took another second to run my hand along his jaw, shuddering as I felt him lean into my touch. I cupped his jaw and kissed him some more. I let my tongue escape my lips and ran it along his bottom lip. He let out a little moan at that, the sound going straight down to my dick. God, I was already so hard just from kissing. I’d probably been hard since he leaned over the console earlier. I ran my tongue over his teeth, exploring his mouth. He was just so hot, so soft, just begging to be defiled. He was making these soft moans, mewls almost, from my tongue exploring his mouth. I’d be damned if that wasn't the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. That combined with the hand tangling itself into my hair, pulling when our tongues met in his mouth.

He tasted sweet, kind of like something minty mixed with fruit. His hands were wracking through my hair, running over my biceps, my wrists, my thighs. I felt him smile against my lips, but before I could return it, his tongue darted out and into my mouth. God, if I thought I was being thorough with my exploration, I was so wrong. He was mapping out my mouth, licking all around and making those crazy little moans all throughout. I felt like I was melting under his touch. At this point, I didn’t know if it was me or him making the most obscene sounds. My hands ran up his sides, having long abandoned his face. I wonder if he’s ticklish, I’ll have to find out someday. My hands found his waist and I tightened my grip. I needed him closer, needed more, needed everything Kurt Hummel.

He crawled into my lap, never breaking the kiss. We stayed like that for a while, every new movement we made with our tongues sparking a new shiver down my spine. God, I wouldn’t have cared if this was his first time making out with a guy or his hundredth time. I made a mental note to send the Hobbit a fruit basket for breaking him in for me. Wow. I would love to just keep doing this forever and ever. Damn you, Kurt Hummel. I’m fucking whipped.

“Noah.” He pulled back from the kiss, panting.

“Yea, princess?”

“What do you want from me?”

“Shit, Kurt. Don’t you get what I want yet?”

“No, Noah.” He let out a long sigh. “I mean, we can make out here and I’ll forget all about it tomorrow. I won’t bring it up ever again. I know this is just some one-time thing. But I need to know what’s going on here. If not we can stop right here, Noah. I don’t think I’ll be able to deal if you tell me you like me now but dump me after you get what you want. I’m okay with this casual thing here now, if you’re just experimenting. Just.. tell me right now that you don’t have any feelings for me, and I’ll be good. Then, we can pretend this didn’t happen.”

His eyes were glazed over, cloudy. He still had his arms wrapped around my neck, still so close. He shook a little as he said that, was that a sniffle? Shit, he was about to cry wasn’t he?

“Look, Kurt. I know you only do all that romance shit. You want the dates, the chocolates, the serenading and all the sappy romantic shit. And you know I only do casual shit. No strings attached and all that.” I said softly, holding the back of his neck so he couldn’t look away.

He nodded. Nodded again. Sniffled for real now. Then finally, he pushed his face into my neck and started sobbing. God, usually I couldn’t stand when girls cried on me whether it was during or after sex. But Kurt… damn you, Kurt. You’re making me break all my rules. I wrapped my arms around his lithe frame and pulled him closer into me. I held his shaking body and rubbed little circles on his back, trying to soothe him. I wanted to tell him so badly, I really did. How strong I think he is. How pretty he looked, all the time. How much I liked his stupid clothes and the prissy scarves and shit he wore, even in summer. How much I missed having him around when he went to Gay Hogwarts. I know, everyone did but I thought I’d only miss him in the first few weeks he went. But it continued, all the way till he came back. I wanted it so badly. But I couldn’t. He needed to hear it when he wasn’t crying his eyes out.

I felt his head lift off my shoulder and a pair of long fingers hold the sides of my face.

“Can we just.. sorry. Can we just keep making out? I don’t want to forget this happened. Not yet.”

I looked up at his tear stained face, eyes rimmed red and cheeks blotchy. His hair was all messed up too, though I knew it wasn’t my doing ‘cause was careful not to touch it. Figured he’d get mad. But still. Even like this, he was so goddamn pretty. I shook my head.

“Why not? Sorry, I made this weird didn’t I? Sorry for crying all over you. Your t-shirt’s totally ruined, if you care about that.” He let go of my face and made to climb off my lap, straightening up.

I grabbed his thighs, forcing them back down over mine. His eyes widened, looking at my large tan hands on his slim, denim-clad thighs. I looked up at him, staring hard. I need to do this. I need to tell him. This is the only chance I’ll ever get if I let him walk out of this car upset.

“Kurt, look at me. Listen.”

He dragged his eyes up, slowly raking over my lap, my chest, my tear stained shirt, my bulging neck, all the way up to my eyes. Again, blue met brown. God, looking into someone’s eyes is not supposed to feel so intimate for fuck’s sake. I felt naked under his eyes.

“Kurt.. Hummel.. Kurt. Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. You are the strongest person I know. And I really fucking mean that. I spent a few months as an outcast during baby gate, and I contemplated running my truck into a tree every single night. I couldn’t stand being left out of everything and being so.. hated. But that’s your life, man. Every single day, you get all sorts of shit just because you dress like a twink. Because you are a twink.”

He wrinkled his nose at that and I quickly continued.

“No, wait. That’s totally fine. I like that about you. Oh, fuck. Kurt, I like how you do whatever the hell you want. I like how you wear whatever the hell you want. ‘Cause you know you look hot. I know how hot you look. I like how your voice sounds. God, your voice is the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. Your range is insane, your tone is so freaking clear, and when you sing a show tune I feel like you’d convert me into a show tunes freak. You’re insanely cool, Kurt Hummel. Not to mention insanely sexy. Look, like I said, I know you only do romance and shit. I’ve never done all that before. Sure, I’ve slept thrice with every Cheerio there is, I’ve fucked all the MILFs in Columbus and Westerville, but I’ve never tried to date someone. I’m also a major whore with crazy libido and zero tact. Whereas you’re… Kurt. You are the best part of my day. And I’d really hate to fuck that up. So I’m alright with no strings, even though for once in my life I think I’d really like some strings. As much as I’d fucking hate seeing you flirt with other guys, be flirted with by other guys who probably aren’t Lima losers, that’s exactly what you deserve. So, yeah. Let’s just make out.” I felt my voice break on that last sentence.

I grabbed his wrists and slapped his hands on my face, putting my hands over them. Holding them there. I thought he’d bring my face up and resume what we were doing. What I did not expect was for him to slowly wipe my eyes with his fingers. For him to get even closer to me. For him to wrap his legs around my waist and pull my head down into his neck. For his fingers to slowly run through my mohawk, fuck that felt so good. I didn’t even know I was crying. He cradled me in his passenger seat, slowly soothing me with little whispers and kisses along my hairline. This was crazy. I’m a fucking stud and I’m here, tears sliding down my face and into Kurt fucking Hummel’s neck. Probably getting his pretty shirt all wet. Damn it.

“Look, Noah. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay. You’re not a Lima loser, I’m not some unbreakable brick wall. I have my days too, okay? We’re here, together. And apparently, we like each other. A whole damn lot. It’s going to be okay. We don’t have to be anything if you don’t want to, I get that this wouldn’t look great for your rep and all that. We can take this slow okay?”

I opened my eyes and pulled out from his neck. I grabbed his arms from my head and wrapped them around my chest. I knew he could feel my heart racing, it was basically pounding out of my chest. His blue eyes were clear again, and he didn’t look like he was about to burst into tears again. Probably, ‘cause I just did that. I let my hands wander, grazing his hips and trailing his waist, looking Kurt in the eye the whole time. Eventually, I settled for his waist and wrapped my arms around him there. I felt him suck in a breath at that, that made me snicker. Oh, so our innocent, virginal Kurt Hummel likes being manhandled huh? Wonder if he’s a size queen.

“Yeah, okay. We can do that. You do know I don’t have money to take you out for dinner, right?”

This time, it was his turn to give me a shit eating grin.

“Yes, I figured. That’s okay, you can just come over….” He ran a finger over my bicep, teasing.

“Oh, yeah? Then what’d we do? I don’t think we finished that movie the last time I came around.”

“Well, we could always find something else to watch too. After we finish that.” Damn, I could get used to this sly side of Kurt.

“Sure, babe. But I think you’d have to get out of my lap to be able to drive home.”

“Mmmmm one more minute.”