Questions.

Kurt stayed suspicious for a couple of days, alternately avoiding him, and when Puck refused to leave his side. Kurt drew into himself and stayed abnormally quiet. Puck wouldn't figure it out for years to come, but this was the first of many 'outs' Kurt would give him.

XxX XxX

Burt Hummel was in a good mood. He'd discovered the rattling in the last car he'd been looking at today had just been a rock stuck in the wheel well. As a result, he'd gotten out of the garage two hours earlier then he'd been expecting, grabbed a large loaded pizza and headed home.

Hades greeted him at the door with dog noises that were his equivalent of talking to daddy. Burt patted the Doberman on the head, scratching his stubby ears and setting the pizza box on the table. He considered giving Hades his own piece, but figured Kurt would find out about it and lecture him on the importance of not giving the dog people food.

Burt's knees went a little weak at the scent in the air. His wife's perfume. It had been ten years since her death and there were days when the grief made it seem like yesterday. Kurt must've had a bad day then. The boy would open all the dresser drawers and just lay there, wrapped in one of her sweaters, just breathing it all in.

He'd tried to talk to his son numerous times about it, about anything. But words had never been his specialty, even less now. So he'd just let his son have this moment to himself, tell his mother everything that was bothering him. It hurt a little to know that as hard as he tried to be a good father, there were things Kurt would never come to him for.

Burt looked down at Hades who was gazing up at him with the soulful eyes that only dog's could manage. Yeah, he'd take the lecture if only to get this weird 'knives edge' feeling gone from his chest. He slid a slice of pizza in the dog's food dish, slid a couple slices on a plate, grabbed a beer from the fridge and went to see what was on TV.

XxX XxX

Kurt looked himself over with scrutiny. Any signs of his little emofit had been obliterated with cold cream and eye drops. Thank God for the beauty industry.

He could smell pizza, and there was a faint tang in the air that meant his father had already opened a beer. He was probably sitting in the den watching something manly, socked feet propped up on the coffee table. He'd bet his nightly routine for a week that the man had given Hades a slice of pizza. Despite the millions of lectures he'd had about the fact that onions, and several other pizza ingredients were like poison to canines.

XxX XxX

“Is this another Glee thing?” Burt asked after his son had settled onto his chair with a slice of pizza and a can of diet coke.

“No dad.”

“Is this a...boy thing then?”

“...you could say that.”

“Oh.” Kurt nodded, face blank as he took delicate bites of pizza, already having picked the olives and hot peppers off his slice. “Is it....serious?” Burt immediately crammed pizza into his mouth as Kurt peered slowly over at him, like he was seeing his father for the first time.

“Is what serious?”

“The...uh...thing.”

“I don't know.” Kurt's response was waspish.

“How.....do you not know?” Overprotective fathering instincts were coming to the surface. What was going on here, was some guy after his son. The kid was practically female with his girly voice and his girly clothes and his pale skin. Like he could ever fight off some horny jock with bad intentions. He'd been in high school before, he knew what boys that age wanted.

“It's complicated Dad.”

“How is it complicated?” All he could think of at the moment was the way his son had been curled over in the music room all those months ago, terrified and alone.

“Fine. I was trying to not get into this for your squeamish sake.” Kurt set his plate down and turned to face his father. “It's Noah.”

“The mohawk kid?”

“Yes, the mohawk kid.”

“Well, I thought you two were getting along now. Did something happen. Did he hurt you?” Kurt's eyes widened , he could literally see his father driving to Puck's house and standing on the street, just staring up at the house for hours.

“NO! Dad.....it's nothing.”

“How is it nothing. You don't talk to your mother over nothing.” Kurt threw his hands in the air. He'd been trying to avoid giving his father a stroke that would undoubtedly result from talking about his love life.

“He kissed me. In the music room after school the other day.”

“Why?”

“He said he likes me. He was jealous cause Finn kissed me and-”

“WHO THE HELL IS FINN?!”

“Finn was my partner for a song in Glee. He's the quarterback and he got his girlfriend pregnant. I was attempting to help him figure a few things out.”

“So now you're getting passed around the football team?”

“Oh my god....you did not just say that.”

“How many graves do I have to dig.” The terrifying thing, Kurt realized as he stared at his father, was that hadn't been a question.

XxX XxX

“You have to talk to my father.”

“Excuse me?” Puck blinked down at the gleek who was fuming at his locker. Apparently this was one of the days Kurt was deciding to talk to him.

“He's convinced I'm being passed around the football team.” He accentuated the statement with a look that had Puck gaping at him.

“Why would he think that?”

“I don't know. He just erupted into “overprotective-father-mode” last night, like I was some sort of virginal female about to be sacrificed on a pagan alter.”

“You...uh...what?” The jock blinked, trying not to think too hard about Kurt splayed out on something.

“Ugh. Men.”

XxX XxX

Puck walked into the music room and stopped. Mercedes and Kurt had been engaged in a heated, whispered conversation that had ceased as soon as he'd come in the room. The Diva seemed smug, while Kurt was sulking over having apparently losing the argument.

The jock shot a little look around the room, moving to his now customary spot beside Kurt. It didn't escape his notice that he was sitting in between Finn and the pale gleek. The quarterback still looked guilty, like he was trying to work his way up to apologizing for jumping Kurt earlier in the week. Yeah, like Puck would let him get alone with the gleek anymore after that.

Mercedes was watching him, her eyes narrowed, suspicion written all over her face. The jock glared back at her, shoving his chair over until his shoulder touched Kurt's. The gleek had gotten used to this slightly possessive behavior in the week since Puck's confession. It was a little strange to get used to this side of the jock. The human side.

XxX XxX

Kurt was so used to ignoring strange looks that he ended up ignoring the everyone in Glee for the entire class. He barely heard Mr. Schuester, focusing in on one spot on the wall and letting everything else just flow by him. It was a technique he'd picked up years ago from an episode of 'Inside the Actor's Studio'. The gleek had already forgotten which actor had passed on the useful tip, but it had served him well all the years he'd been using it.

XxX XxX

“Kurt. Is something wrong?” The gleek turned to look into Mr. Schuester's earnest blue eyes.

“Why would anything be wrong?”

“You were staring at the wall the entire class. I'm not even sure you were blinking.”

“Yes well, maybe if the rest of us had parts we'd be a little more interested in this new song and dance routine you've given Rachel and Finn.” Kurt snapped, refusing to feel guilt at the slight hurt on his teacher's face. “Now if you'll excuse me.”

“Kurt...” The gleek paused at the tone in Mr. Schuester's voice. “You can talk to me about anything you know. I'm always here.”

“William...there is very little I could talk to you about that you could even pretend to understand. I won't burden you with my silly little dramas. You couldn't handle them.” Oh, it hurt to say that. To know that even this hardworking, earnest teacher so intent on making them all the best they could be, could never dream of comprehending what he went through on a daily basis.

XxX XxX

Puck had started a very one sided discussion after football practice about a week ago. The first dude to lay a hand on Hummel would be eating with a straw for the rest of his life. And even with the sneers and slurs, the jocks knew he meant what he said. Puck was easily one of the most vicious males in Lima Composite High.

It didn't mean Kurt wasn't getting hit with slushies anymore, he was just getting hit with less of them. Mostly from the Cheerio's and a few from members of the basketball team that hadn't gotten the message that Kurt was off limits now. But it did mean his days of dumpster diving were over.

XxX XxX

Mr. Schuester kept cornering Kurt after both Spanish and Glee, and if the gleek hadn't known the teachers true intentions he would have started worrying about all the extra attention.

“I have never had a student refuse to talk to me.” Will began, choosing to ignore Kurt's sarcastic half eye roll and expression sliding into blankness as he readied himself for another 'Schuester can help' lecture. “Now, you say I'd never be able to understand, but you'll never know unless you talk to me.”

Will's expression was so hopeful, so cheerful. And for a moment, Kurt wanted to yell at the teacher, wanted to throw his books, flip over his desk and just scream out all his frustrations. Instead, he carefully slid his fingers along his bangs, making sure they were smooth before folding his hands and meeting his teacher's gaze fully.

“I'm very appreciative that you've begun to take an interest in someone that isn't one of your leads. But my life has been this way since before you noticed me, and it will no doubt be this way until this utter hell we call higher learning has ended.” Will's expression dropped slightly, like he couldn't believe there was someone who didn't want his opinion.

“Kurt...”

“Mr. Schuester, for the last year and a half I've been thrown into the dumpster every morning on Monday's, Wednesday's and Friday's, and that's when they deign to stick to a schedule. And every morning when you walk past me, surrounded by football players, you smile and ask if I'm making new friends.” Kurt's hands clenched before he relaxed them. “I really don't know why you've decided to take an interest in me now.”

“I...just...” Will went silent as he reviewed his morning, shock showing on his face as he remembered those mornings.

“I get that you're trying to help. But I am not one of your little lost lambs. I don't need your guidance, or your pity.”

“I...I'm sorry Kurt.”

“Yes well, we do what we can.” The gleek shifted out of his seat and stood. “Am I excused?” Will nodded, expression miserable and Kurt took a step forward, resting a hand on the teacher's shoulder. “It's not that I'm not grateful for your...intervention. It's more the fact that it's taken you so long to realize that I may have needed one. There will be others that will need your help, and won't know that they can ask. Remember that, and look for them.” Kurt breezed out of the room, leaving Will to stare at his desk.

XxX XxX

“So...why do I have to do this again?”

“Noah, you have met my father before this.”

“He wasn't looking at me like he wanted to feed me to the dog before this either.”

“Don't be stupid. Human flesh would be a horrible dietary supplement.”

“Gee thanks, I feel so much better.”

“And you call me a drama queen.”

XxX XxX

Burt looked up as the door open. Hades was laying at his feet, sprawled out on his back with all four paws stuck up in the air. The mechanic was cleaning his shotgun, his hunting rifle laying across the kitchen table waiting it's turn. He'd been meaning to give his guns a good once over, it had nothing to do with the fact that the mohawk kid was coming over after school.

“Kurt.....Mohawk.” Burt nodded to each of them, refusing to look at his son. He didn't need to see his son to know that Kurt's arms would be crossed, one eyebrow raised in a 'I can NOT believe you' expression. No, Burt's attention was focused on Puck, the jock shifting restlessly under the scrutiny.

“Hi....Mr. Hummel.” Burt grunted, his fingers assembling his shotgun without his eyes leaving Puck's face.

“What're you boys up to?”

“We've been given an assignment for Glee. Boring stuff really, wouldn't interest you in the slightest.”

“What sort of assignment?” Kurt heaved a dramatic sigh at his father's question.

“Rachel started talking about type casting in modern day movies, and she wouldn't shut up about it, so Mr. Schuester gave us homework. So now we have to watch both versions of '12 Angry Men' and take notes on how the jury went from being made up of only white men, to being made up of African-American's as well as women. We can watch them up here if it would put your 'fatherly' concerns to rest about my well being.” Burt blinked at his son, then shook his head.

“No...it's fine. You staying for supper then, Mohawk?” Puck blinked at that, then nodded. Kurt rolled his eyes at the nickname and pushed the jock towards the basement door.

XxX XxX

Puck shifted, sliding one arm across the back of the couch until his fingertips grazed Kurt's shoulder. After a few moments of no reaction Puck shifted a few inches closer, then closer again. He was just about to slide his arm down around Kurt's thin shoulders and tuck the gleek into his side when Kurt angled his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Noah, I am not a girl.”

“I fuckin' know that.” Puck shifted back to his corner of the couch, arms crossed in what was definitely a sulk. The jock slid a glance at Kurt who was smirking at him. Okay, Kurt should never do that sort of a smirky leer. It just looked....wrong.

The gleek shifted until his legs were underneath him, leaning forward into Puck's space in a way that reminded the jock very much of a Playboy spread. His face was inviting and smug and all sorts of naughty.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Hmmmm.” Kurt did this sliding thing, like a fucking cat. Puck had thrown one hand over the back of the couch, the other rested on the arm, nearly pulling himself away from Kurt in a fit of nervousness. “Here I thought you were attempting to make a move.” The gleek slid forward again at the word and Puck nearly forgot to breathe at the soft hand on his leg. “I'm not a girl Noah, I don't need moves. I don't expect flowers and chocolate and romance.”

“Uh huh.”

“And if you wanna make out on the couch during a movie just...ask.” Puck swallowed nervously as Kurt half crawled into his lap. The gleek looking at him with a mix of amusement and cat like smugness, like he'd never entertained the idea that Puck would push him away.

“I...uh.”

“What's wrong? Used to making all the moves yourself, Noah?” Fuck, that was a surprising turn on, someone taking control, making him feel like an awkward teen on his first date. What the hell was wrong with him, it was Hummel. Pale, tiny, delicate Hummel. With his long slim legs, and those tiny little wrists he could hold with one hand.

Okay, now he was hard, and from the filthy curve of Kurt's mouth, the gleek knew it too. One of those pale hands slid up his thigh and Puck grabbed it, pulling so Kurt lost his balance a little and had to rest his other hand on the jock's shoulder. The jock's hand sliding off the back of the couch to grab onto Kurt's hip.

XxX XxX

“Boys...Supper.” Burt stood at the top of the stairs. He could hear the movie playing, and it sounded about as boring as he'd thought. A few hushed whispers made his eyes narrow before Kurt appeared at the foot of the stairs looking just as fresh and pressed as he had when he'd come home from school.

“We'll just eat down here if it's alright, we're making a lot of progress on the comparisons. We'll probably have to rewatch both movies a couple more times to spot them all. Mr. Schuester is a Nazi for details.” Kurt babbled on as he followed his father into the kitchen.

Burt was suspicious, but he couldn't place why. Kurt was acting the exact same as he did when he had his other friends over. His clothes weren't rumpled, his hair wasn't mussed up, and he wasn't nervous. But something was off.

“What kind of film you boys watching?”

“It's a play. Well, two takes on a play called '12 Angry Men'. It's about a jury who's asked to deliberate on a young man who's suspected of killing his father. Every single member of the jury states that he'd guilty except for one man who thinks they should take the time to think about this before they sentence this young man to a life sentence in prison. It's an amazing piece of work and-” Burt cut his son off, knowing from experience that the boy could go on for hours.

“That's...good. Let me know when Mohawk is ready to leave, I'll drive him home.”

“Sure thing dad.” Kurt smiled at his father, loading up a tray with two plates and two cans of pop.

“Need any help with that?”

“I'm fine dad.” Kurt smiled at his father, moving swiftly back downstairs.

XxX XxX

Kurt had to choke back a snicker at the sight of Puck, a pillow in his lap, mohawk about as mussed as an inch of hair could be. The jock glared as the gleek set the tray on the table.

“And this is why I told you not to touch me.” Kurt said smugly, knowing his father's moods better then the man knew himself. His father was starting to act as if he were a teenage girl, it was sweet and very annoying. He busied himself with setting plates on the table, not watching Puck for his reaction.

The jock's face was predatory, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He waited until Kurt had set the tray beside the coffee table before grabbing the gleeks hips and pulling him down. Kurt let out a slight squeal, arms flailing as he tried to gain his balance.

In very quick succession Kurt's arms were trapped against his body, Puck's legs were tangled with his own and the jock's mouth was very busy leaving a mark that would be impossible to cover up without the help of a scarf the next day.

It was odd, the sucking sensation being interrupted by gentle bites, and long tongue swipes. Kurt tried his hardest to keep his noises quiet, for fear of alerting his father that something was going on, but it was hard...no pun intended. He felt strange and alive and fearless. Squirming against Puck's mouth and football-calloused hands, gently sliding across his ribcage, like he was something delicate to be kept precious and safe.

XxX XxX

Burt's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Kurt still looked like he always did, though he had added a scarf to his outfit. Puck on the other hand looked a little rougher. His hair was fluffy in some parts, flat in others, like someone with smaller hands had been into it.

“Why're you wearing a scarf?”

“I beg your pardon?” Kurt blinked up at his father, fingers automatically rising to brush against the deep blue Hermes silk.

“You weren't wearing a scarf before.”

“Yes I was. I swear father, you get more senile as the days go by. I was wearing a scarf this morning when I went to school, I was wearing the scarf when I got home from school. I was even wearing the scarf when I came upstairs to grab dinner.” Kurt rolled his eyes in his fathers direction. “You have worse fashion sense then Noah when it comes to accessories. It really doesn't surprise me you just noticed it now.”

“Mohawk....was he wearing that at school?” Burt growled at Puck, who tried to shrink into himself.

“Yes?”

“I knew it...you were not.”

“Oh no, you caught us.” Kurt deadpanned. “Noah and I were making out downstairs.” The gleek smirked at the look of horror that flashed across his father's face.

“You.....you were......”

“Now, what would you prefer to believe?” Kurt buffed his nails against his shirt, holding them out at arms length. “Because I can elaborate on either really.”

“Mohawk...in the truck.” Burt barked out, refusing to admit that his cheeks were slowly turning red.

“Yes sir.” Puck's eyes were desperate, really not wanting to be trapped in a vehicle with Burt for the next ten minutes.

XxX XxX

“You hurt my boy and I'll end you.” Puck nodded, swallowing nervously. Burt had driven him home, then turned off the ignition and turned to stare at Puck with an intense expression the jock had only seen on the father's of young virginal girl. The ones that remembered what it was like to be a high school stud. The ones who knew his intentions with their daughters.

“He seems to like you....don't know why. You ain't much to look at.” Burt seemed to puff up, the cab of the truck growing smaller. “He smiles more,you make him lose that...” Puck nodded frantically, not needing any of the probably endless threats Burt could talk about.

“I get it....I'm not gonna fuck around on him. It wouldn't be worth it.....losinghim.” Puck mumbled the last bit, embarrassed that he was talking to Kurt's DAD.

“You really do like him.” Burt sat back, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “Huh....well.” The mechanic cleared his throat. “Still stands, what I said.”

Puck nodded, climbing out of the cab.

“You...watch football?” The jock blinked at the question. He nodded again. “Games on...this weekend.”

“Ooookay?”

“Kurt don't watch it.” Puck realized that Burt was as weirded out and awkward as he was at this whole 'thing' and grinned a little.

“I guess I could stop in. Ref always makes shit calls.” Burt grunted in agreement and when he drove off Puck was left feeling strange. He was happy, and nervous, and it wasn't because of Kurt for once. It was like, he couldn't even try to explain it. Like he had somehow stumbled onto a secret family.

XxX XxX

“What the hell are you doing around my man?” Kurt looked up from his locker to see Santana attempting to loom over him. It would've worked on someone like Rachel, who didn't have an inner bitch. But Kurt is fierce and the Cheerio doesn't scare him.

“Excuse me?” His voice could cut glass, eyebrow raising in a way that would've made Spock proud.

“He isn't answering any of my sexts. That isn't like him, my sexts are too hot to ignore.” Kurt looked the Cheerio up and down, a sneer forming.

“Didn't you dump him for his credit scores?” Kurt slammed his locker door hard enough to have Santana taking a step backwards, her expression a little confused, wondering why this nerd wasn't afraid of her like the rest of them. “And I highly doubt your sexts are hotter then the real thing, sweetheart.” Santana gaped as he walked away, head held high, an unholy smirk on his lips.

The expression was so unlike anything anyone had ever seen on Kurt Hummel that people were actually getting out of his way.

XxX XxX

“What did you say to Santana?” Puck asked in Spanish. His ex had been glaring at him all day and he had no idea why.

“Check your messages.” Kurt smirked at his notebook as Puck fished for his phone, discreetly checking his text messages.

You have 15 unread messages.

Puck blinked at his phone, remembering that he'd felt it vibrating in his pocket the night before, but Kurt had been fucking wrapped around him and he'd forgotten to check them after he'd gotten home. Flipping through some of them he smirked. Santana might not put out in the traditional sense, but she still put out more then the rest of the girls at this school.

Puck shut his phone off, not wanting it to get taken away. Mr. Schue might've been a cool teacher about some things, but he still had to follow the stupid 'no cell phones in class rule'. The jock shot a glance over at Kurt, the gleek wasn't even looking at him, instead taking notes he didn't need.

XxX XxX

“So...what did she say to you?” Puck asked as they walked to Glee.

“Warned me off of you, that sort of thing.” Kurt said, waving one hand in a casual motion.

“How'd you know about the messages?”

“She let me know that her sexts were far to hot to ignore.” The gleek stopped before they entered the music room, pulling off his scarf and tucking it in his back pocket. Puck's eyes were drawn to the numerous marks he'd made the day before.

“Dude, what're you doing?” Kurt shot him a look full of amusement and something darker that Puck really didn't want to analyze.

“She wants to play a game, I'm just returning the favor.”

XxX XxX

In Kurt's opinion it was completely worth the choked noises from the rest of Glee if only for the expression on Santana's face. She looked completely murderous, especially when Puck couldn't seem to take his eyes off of his handiwork.

Mr. Schuester ended up pairing them off into groups, actually stuttering out Kurt's name when he paired the gleek up with Rachel. The Diva seemed a little dissapointed that she wouldn't be paired up with Finn, but decided to take it in stride for once rather then throwing a fit and stomping out.

“So...”

“Yes Rachel.”

“I guess this means you don't like Finn anymore?” Rachel's voice was filled with far to much glee for his taste. Pardon the horrible pun.

“I managed to come to a conclusion you seem to be quite a ways from.” The gleek said mildly, highlighting his portion of the song he would have to sing with Berry. How he'd manage that, he had no idea. She had a marvelous voice, but she overpowered everyone she sang with.

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“Sweetie....Rachel” Kurt stopped, wondering how he should put this. Give it to her gently, or quick, like ripping off a bandaid. “Finn is an idiot. He's like a horse with blinders, and right now his sights are set on Quinn. None of us know what the future will bring, but with that baby on the way....I can pretty much guarantee he won't be looking at anyone but Quinn for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh.” Rachel looked down at her paper, as if the thought hadn't occurred to her. “So...who gave those to you?”

Kurt smiled softly at the Diva, who was trying to look like Kurt's words hadn't hit home. The girl had a lot of work left to control her emotions to Kurt's level. Her face was like a book, all the anguish and unrequited teenage love just laying out there for anyone to read.

“Can you keep a secret?” Rachel nodded. “Good, so can I.” The Diva's face fell and Kurt gave a humorless chuckle, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her in closer. “Puck.”

“Are you serious?” Rachel's face twisted up into an expression of near disgust. “But..I went out with him.”

“You hypocritical sanctimonious bitch.” Rachel blinked at the hissed tone. “He's having a hard enough time with this without someone like you expressing your thoughts on the situation.”

“I didn't mean it like that.” Rachel tossed her hair. “I have two gay dads.”

“What do you want....a cookie?” Kurt sneered. “They may be your fathers, but you have no idea what it means for those of us that live this life.”

XxX XxX

Puck was nervous. He rubbed his hands on his jeans and pressed the doorbell. A few seconds passed, the sounds of Hades barking and Kurt yelling at the dog to 'shut up and get out of my way or I'll make a fur coat out of you this time' made him smile a little. The gleek opened the door, blinking at him, then yelping as Hades pushed past him in a mad dash to jump on Puck.

“DAMMIT HADES!!! YOU'RE GONNA KILL ME ONE DAY!!!!” Puck blinked at the volume that had come out of Kurt's mouth, hands coming up automatically to scratch the Doberman's stubby ears. The gleek huffed, tugging nonexistent wrinkles out of his shirt. “What are you doing here Noah?”

“Uhhhhhh...”

“Games on. You never watch it, and I figured Mohawk wouldn't mind watching it on a plasma.” Burt commented from the open door.

“Oh yes...football. I should have known.” Kurt rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion. “I'll be downstairs.”

XxX XxX

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?” Puck yelled, throwing a pretzel halfheartedly at the screen. Burt chuckled, patting Hades. He'd always wondered what it would be like to watch the red blooded American sport with his son, but the way Kurt had turned out. He wasn't dissapointed with his son, more dissapointed in his own expectations for his son.

Boys were supposed to be in sports, fix cars, and like women. Well...one out of three wasn't bad. Burt watched Puck out of the corner of his eye, his reactions at the game. How he made little angry fists at a bad call and swore at the referee. Cheered at a near touchdown and snuck Hades little snacks.

If this was what he got for Kurt being gay, Noah being part of this broken little family. Well...that wasn't a bad trade off at all.

XxX XxX