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“Noah I can’t anymore. I’m really full,” whined Kurt, turning his eyes away from the unfinished plate of mashed potatoes with gravy and a baked chicken drumstick up at Puck.
“Kurt you promised. I didn’t serve you that much,” Puck said. He could already see Kurt trying to pull his puppy eyes on him to get out of eating the rest of his dinner.
Even though Puck succeeded in making Kurt stop sticking his fingers down his throat to get rid of food, he was still struggling to make him eat a normal sized serving. The journey so far has been difficult, and yet Puck was extremely proud of Kurt. When the two got together, Kurt was skin and bones making Puck see red every time he remembered why. He couldn’t understand how could someone hurt Kurt so much, make him feel so disgusted and ashamed of his own body. On that day, with Kurt’s hand on his heart as he was sleeping on Puck’s chest after they first made love, Puck made three vows to himself; first, he’d make Kurt happy every day they spent together, two, he was going to get Kurt back on track with eating healthy and stop him from hurting himself, and three, if he ever saw that lying, controlling, selfish, abusive, cheating Dalton fuckface Blaine, he’d kill him on the spot.
Puck signed, looked at Kurt’s plate again assessing how much food remained. It seemed to be less than normally. He pondered for a while and then nodded his head. Kurt beamed, got up from his chair, tiptoed to Puck, bent over and planted a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Why don’t you sit with me while I finish?” Puck whispered before his boyfriend straightened up.
“Right here,” added Puck as he turned his chair sideways to the table and slapped his right thigh.
Kurt spent the rest of dinner sitting on Puck’s lap with a hand around his waist talking about what he did at his work that day. Puck happily listened, occasionally rubbed Kurt’s side, and ate the rest of his serving.
Once Puck finished, he patted Kurt’s butt to signal him to get up. Afterwards he put his plate into the dishwasher and Kurt’s leftovers in the fridge.
“Oh I almost forgot!” exclaimed Kurt and immediately started to giggle. “Guess who I met today.”
“The famous Anna Winter?” Puck said after a lengthy while, during which he squinted his eyes trying to remember at least one name Kurt always seemed to mention when asked who he’d like to meet.
“No, even-“ Kurt started, and then paused. “Wintour, Noah. The name’s Anna Wintour, W-I-N-T-O-U-R. My extensive knowledge of the fashion world isn’t really rubbing off on you, is it?”
“The only thing rubbing to get off on me is you.” Puck smirked, winked and rubbed his crotch a few times against the back of the chair currently between them.
“Puckerman I swear to all the gods on this earth and any other planet Elon Musk might colonize in the future, that if I ever see you do that in public I will never touch you or talk to you ever again.” Kurt said wide eyed.
Puck walked around the chair, placed his hands on Kurt’s sides, lifted him high in the air, spun quickly around three times, placed him back on the same spot and kissed him.
“Stop being jealous of a chair, I know you love it.” Puck whispered, their lips still touching. Kurt’s cheeks immediately turned red and his mind took him to today’s morning in the shower.
Puck smirked again and made his way to the living room, happily whistling. Kurt stood in the kitchen alone for a moment until he heard the sound of TV from the other room and then followed.
“For your information, today I met our darling Laura.” Kurt answered his own question as he sat down next to Puck on the couch.
Puck slowly turned his head to the other boy and raised his eyebrows. “Laura Kingsley? THE Laura Hannah Kingsley? The ‘bat from hell’, the ‘wicked witch of the west, east, south and north’, the ‘cunt of Cuntisbury’, ‘Hitler’s missing testicle’, the ‘cock-juggling gremlin’, the ‘whore of the seven rings of hell’, the-“
“Yes, yes, that and more.” Kurt interrupted Puck as he knew that if all the insults he ever used to title that wretched woman were to be repeated they’d be sitting there until Monday night.
“Well that’s so nice of her to finally pay you a visit, isn’t it, and on a Friday of all days.” Puck was using all of his will power to not explode in fit of laughter.
“Oh I assure you she’s even nicer in person.” Kurt said faking a smile. “She’s going on a vacation so she stopped by to leave instructions on some paperwork. You know I don’t think that I’ve ever really appreciated the invention of electricity and email communication. Those fifteen minutes took fifteen years of my live. She tried to give me an advice on how to properly match my shirt color to my pants. Like she knows anything about that, with her striped neon pink skirt and fern green jacket with stupid purple polka dots with God knows what under it. I can’t even imagine where she got that thing. And don’t even get me started on her shoes. But of course she had to get into the famous second quarterly reports of 2020. That little bitch troll from hell will use that damned expense report for Samantha’s- Are you okay Noah?”
Puck was sitting there, grasping at his side with tears in his eyes and pointing at Kurt’s phone on the table in front of them. The display was lit with a notification which read: “Laura KingSlut” and the number six next to it indicating the amounts of messages.
“SHE’S A WITCH!” Kurt yelled as soon as he saw it. “She heard me talking about her. Noah Puckerman, stop laughing! This is serious; a deranged sixty year old clone of Rachel Berry is supernaturally stalking me from across the globe. How did she even get my personal number?!”
“You know what I think you should do?” Puck finally spoke as he started to dry his eyes with his sleeve. “You should just ignore her. She’s just an annoying woman you send emails to, about once or twice a week. I really don’t see what all the fuss is about.”
Kurt signed, turned sideways, plopped his head onto the other Puck’s lap and nuzzled into the fabric of Puck’s hoodie.
“Maybe you’re right; maybe I’m just tired and exhausted after a long week.”
After that, Kurt refused to give that woman even a single thought. He just laid there in silence with his eyes closed, and listened to Puck flipping the channels on the TV trying to find something to watch. When Puck finally settled for an episode of Gilmore Girls, which of course he wouldn’t mention to anyone, he turned his attention back to Kurt and started to play with his hair.
“How about, if we just stayed at home this weekend? Huh?” Whispered Puck, as he tucked a strand of hair behind Kurt’s ear. “We can order a bunch of junk food, watch movies, and maybe even finally watch that new dragon thing. I’ll treat you like a prince.”
Kurt’s face emerged from the hoodie with a smile. “And play computer games?”
“And play computer games.” Puck nodded, bent down and kissed his boyfriend. “And later on,” kiss “I’ll play” kiss “my own game” kiss.
Kurt’s face turned even more scarlet than before.
“Oh don’t worry, I’m saving your for later. For now, just stay where you are.” Puck said with that spark in his eyes Kurt knew all too well. He’s seen it so many times and the meaning behind it was always the same; ‘You’ll be a mess when I’m done with you’.
They stayed like this for the rest of the evening, both of them enjoying Puck massaging Kurt’s scalp. As the hours passed by, both of them eventually dozed off.
Puck was peacefully enjoying his dream of having a robot dog when a loud noise quickly woke him up. He snapped his eyes open and scanned the dark living room. Kurt was still lying on his lap with his left arm resting on the coffee table. Puck carefully leaned forward and looked at the ground. A remote must have fell down when Kurt’s arm landed on the table. Puck leaned even more, picked up the remote and turned the TV off, and then he slipped his arms under Kurt, picked him up and made his way to the bedroom.
With Kurt tucked in bed, Puck slipped behind him and cuddled to his boyfriend. It might be a cliché to say, but as he kissed the back of Kurt’s head and smelled his hair, the more he thought about it, his life really was good.