Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kurt Hummel knew that he shouldn't be wandering the streets alone in the middle of the night. He should have been tucked safely away in his bed, behind the locked doors of the Hummel-Hudson house. He should have been sleeping, but sleep would not come and his mind refused to stop spinning, twisting words and thoughts and fears around in a tornado of emotions that kept him tossing and turning. And so, rather than staying in bed with his life in turmoil, Kurt had gotten up, pulled on a pair of jeans he only wore at the garage or to do yard work and a v-necked white undershirt that his dad had shrunk in the wash (at least it wasn't pink like the other load of whites his dad had done before Kurt banished him from the laundry room for good).

The streets of Lima were deserted after 11 at night. Not only was there a curfew, but there really was nothing open that late. Event he movie theaters closed around then. The only places still open were the bars on the South side of town and the 7-11. Kurt had no intention of going to either. The South side was an area he usually avoided even in the daytime, and the 7-11 usually had guys hanging out in front, the type of guys that liked to toss Kurt into dumpsters or throw slushies in his face.

Since the end of last year, dumpster dives and slushie facials didn't seem to be enough for some of the worst bullies. Azimio and Karofsky were the worst, but there were others. They had upped the ante. It had started with shoves into the lockers in the halls or knocking him down in the cafeteria. Then the little slaps to the face to piss him off. Then the slaps weren't so little. But they were afraid of leaving marks on his face where anyone could see, so they started with the punches to the gut or the back or right on his kidneys where it would do the most damage. And there was always more than one of them. In the week and a half since school had started, Kurt had been jumped three times.

So there was no way Kurt would ever wander over to the 7-11. He did wander around the residential neighborhood where he had grown up. Most of the houses had been built in the sixties or early seventies and were getting to be a bit dated. After all, the architecture of that era hadn't exactly proved to be timeless. But the houses were mostly in good repair. People took pride in their homes in this neighborhood.

Kurt wandered up to the reservoir. The housing development had been planned and laid out around the reservoir that provided most of the water for Allen County. His dad used to bring him there to fish when he was little, before Kurt was old enough to explain exactly why spending hours in the sun torturing fish was not a fun way to pass time. He climbed the steep hill at the end of the dead end road and looked out over the expanse of water. It was rather pretty with the moonlight reflecting off the glassy surface.

Things had been better with Finn for a while but now that the new school year had begun, Finn seemed to be falling back on his old ways. Kurt knew that the other boy knew that the other jocks were beating up on him, but he wouldn't do anything. Maybe Finn thought if he ignored the problem it would go away, but in the meantime, Kurt was getting the shit beat out of him.

Kurt was glad that his dad and Carole were getting along so well, it even looked like they might get married soon, but a part of Kurt was dreading having Finn and Carole move back in. He really wanted his dad to be happy, and he loved Carole, but Finn was… an ass. There was no way he would react well if a wedding was announced. And Kurt really didn't think he had the patience to deal with another incident like happened when they tried moving in the last time. He knew he would lose it. He was already on the verge of cracking. There was just too much pressure.

Kurt wanted to tell someone about what was happening, but it was like the dumpster all over again. The first few times it happened in freshman year, he had reported it to a teacher or the principal. Each time, he was told that it was a matter of his word against the other boys'. And since no one wanted to take the chance of being targeted by the bullies, no one would speak up for Kurt. Kurt had somehow let himself believe that making friends in glee would change that, but he had been fooling himself. Sure none of the football players in glee tortured him any longer, but none of them stuck up for him either. That new kid, Sam, seemed nice enough but Finn kept telling him to stay away from Kurt.

Kurt couldn't tell his dad. Besides the fact that he didn't want to disappoint him any more than he already did just by being who he was, Kurt really didn't want his dad to feel like he had to fight all of Kurt's battles for him. Kurt was 17; he should really be able to fight his own battles by now. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Every time he tried to stand up for himself, he ended in deeper trouble.

Kurt walked along the ridge of the reservoir for a while, looking over the houses on one side and the water on the other. He let his imagination wander and wondered what would happen if the reservoir gave way. Would all of those houses be washed away? Or would it just flood the basements and be a general nuisance. Kurt rather thought it would be the latter. After all, Lima Ohio was the capitol of boring. Nothing as exciting as a flood would ever happened there. The closest thing to a natural disaster that they had ever had was when a tornado had taken out the old bowling alley when his was in middle school. But since the old bowling alley had been condemned, it really wasn't much of a loss.

Kurt reached the northern edge of the reservoir and rather than continuing his trek around, he carefully climbed down the embankment. There wasn't much on this side of the reservoir, most of the houses having been built to the west and south. There were a few old farms still along the road to the north, though Kurt wasn't sure what they actually grew, if anything.

Kurt had been walking along the roadside for about ten minutes when he heard shouting and cheering coming from behind one of the farm houses. There was a flickering light, like a bonfire, and he could see people gathered together around… something. Letting his curiosity guide him, Kurt cut across the fallow field and headed for the crowd of people.

It wasn't until he got closer that Kurt thought that maybe it was a bad idea just walking up to a crowd of strangers in the middle of the night, out in the middle of nowhere. But it was too late to back off now. Whatever they had all been watching had obviously stopped and people had begun milling around. A couple people had spotted him and were heading his way.

"Hey kid," one of the people said. In the light of the bonfire, Kurt could see that it was a woman, but her flannel shirt and saggy jeans wouldn't have given away that fact. The man with her was dressed almost the exact same way. "You missed most of the fights, but you're in time for the main event. $5 to watch and another $5 if you want some of the beer. And Jack's keeping book tonight."

Fight? They were fighting? Kurt had sudden flashes in his head of that movie a few years ago. Was this a fight club? Kurt hadn't really believed that back alley boxing actually existed.

"Um, who's fighting?" Kurt asked, pulling out his wallet and handing $10 to the woman. He figured his safest bet was to try and blend in and pretend like he meant to be there. If that meant swigging a beer from the keg he spotted in an old tin tub filled with ice and laying down a few bucks on a fight, he'd do it. At least it would take his mind off everything else going on in his life.

"We got a champ in from Columbus," the man said. "He's supposed to be unbeatable and the odds favor him to win. But he's going up against our local champion. Puck's not lost any fight he's been in yet."

"Puck?" Kurt asked. Could it really be Noah Puckerman? Kurt looked into his wallet and pulled out two twenties. "I'll put $40 on Puck."

The guy took his money, wrote something in his little notebook. The woman put an arm around Kurt's shoulder and directed him towards the crowd of people now gathered around the keg. "Let's get you a beer. I'm Meg, by the way."

"Kurt," Replied with a wary smile. Meg ushered Kurt right to the front of the line and grabbed two plastic cups from the guy who was pouring before taking Kurt over to where some lawn chairs were set up.

"Have a seat," Meg said. When they were both sitting, she said, "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that this is your first fight."

Kurt flushed and hoped that the dim light from the bonfire would hide his blush. "Am I that obvious?"

"You're pretty easy to read, kid," Meg said. "But you know Puck, so that's good enough recommendation for me.

"How long has Puck been fighting?" Kurt asked and took a sip of the bitter tasting beer.

Meg paused to consider the question. "Well, Jenny, my youngest was in kindergarten, so that would have been three years ago."

"He was 14?" Kurt asked with horror.

Meg laughed. "Yeah, well, he was big for 14, and he started off with some of the lightweights. He's worked his way up through the ranks and now holds the top spot. He's not lost a single fight. Came close once or twice, but that kid's got guts and determination like no one I've ever seen."

Kurt snorted. "I can agree with that. So how does all this work? I'm going to assume it's not like that awful movie a few years ago."

Meg laughed at that. "No, it's not like that at all. We're just really a bunch of friends who like to watch boxing, but out here, there ain't much boxing to be had. So we get together once a month and set up fights. The guys who want to fight are sorted by skill level and then matches are drawn from a hat. They get ranked based on the number of wins and the ranks of the guys they beat. The higher the ranking, the more money they can pull. Winners get a percentage of the house winnings and cover money. Losers get jack."

"So, if Puck wins tonight he'll make how much?" Kurt wondered.

"As the main event?" Meg said. "He gets about a grand; probably a lot more tonight since his opposition is so heavily favored. Most of the lower level fights average around three or four hundred dollars."

Kurt looked around the yard and counted maybe 150 people. "There don't seem to be enough people here to pay that much."

"Well, if the only people betting were the ones here, no, there wouldn't be," Meg agreed. "But half the county puts bets down on these fights. The results are posted in the classifieds, though they don't say exactly what the results are for. Then people go collect their winnings. Whoever hosts keeps book, and divvies up the money between the winning bets and the fighters."

"So the fights aren't always here?" Kurt asked.

"Good lord, no," Meg said. "I couldn't stand hosting this mess every month. Several of us take turns."

"But isn't this illegal?" Kurt asked quietly, afraid that he might be pushing his luck.

Meg shrugged. "We're outside city limits and the county sheriff doesn't really have the time or energy to chase us down. In fact, most of the city cops place bets."

Jack came and gave them both another beer before taking the seat on Meg's other side. Kurt hadn't even realized that he had finished his first beer, but sure enough his cup was empty, so he started sipping from the second beer.

"You been filling in the newbie?" Jack asked.

"She has," Kurt said with a smile. He took another sip of beer and realized that he was feeling very warm and fuzzy inside. Huh. He remembered this feeling from his days of drinking from April Rhodes' thermos. It was the good part, before it got to the sick part. Kurt figured that two beers would definitely be his limit or he'd not only have trouble walking home, but he'd probably ralph again. "How long before the fight?"

Jack looked over to the back porch of the house and saw that two guys were walking down the stairs. "Now."

Kurt followed his gaze and saw Puck talking and laughing with some guy who made Dave Karofsky look small. The other guy laughed at something Puck said and then shoved Puck in a friendly way. Of course, that friendly shove just about knocked Puck off his feet.

"Is that who he's fighting?" Kurt asked in fear.

"Too late to change your bet, kid," Jack said with a laugh.

Kurt shook his head. "I wasn't thinking about my money. I was thinking about Puck's face."

Jack and Meg both laughed. "Don't you worry, Puck can hold his own."

There was no announcer or referee. The two combatants just stood in the middle of the circle of people and when they were ready, they started to fight. A part of Kurt wanted to cover his face and not watch, but another part of him was completely fascinated by the completely barbaric exercise taking place in front of him. This was not a sport; sports do not draw blood with the first hit. There were no cushy boxing gloves, just taped knuckles. There was no rule against kicking, biting pulling hair, or anything else that would give you an advantage over your opponent. When Kurt saw the big guy from Columbus try and grab at Puck's hair, He suddenly had a better understanding about why he sported the Mohawk.

While it was true that the guy from Columbus had both height and weight on his side, it soon became apparent that Puck had speed and agility on his side. He moved around the giant of a man and landed punches and kicks before the other guy could fully realize what was happening. There was blood—lots of it—but most of it was coming from the giant's mouth and a cut above his right eye. Kurt winced when the guy landed a few punches to Puck's ribs. Puck staggered back, but quickly righted himself and returned with a roundhouse kick to the guy's chest, felling the tree of a man before straddling his chest and landing several blows to the guy's face.

There was a few seconds of silence when Puck stood up and the guy didn't, and then the whole yard erupted in cheers. Kurt could see that a lot of the people were upset at having lost their bets, but happy that their local boy had beat the Columbus champ.

Kurt stayed where he was as Jack was crowded by the few people who had taken the long-shot bet. While he passed out their winnings, Kurt watched as someone checked the guy from Columbus and used smelling salts to wake him up. He looked a bit dazed, but he staggered to his feet and shook Puck's hand. After a few minutes, they were back to laughing and joking together. Kurt found that to be the oddest part of his night, seeing the same two people who had been trying to beat the crap out of each other being friendly only a few minutes later.

The same guy who had the smelling salts began cleaning and patching up both the giant and Puck's wounds. There wasn't much they could do for the bruises, and Kurt could already see that Puck's chest and left side were already beginning to turn colors. The boy was moving very carefully as he began to walk over towards Jack, presumably to collect his winnings. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Kurt.

"Hummel? What the fuck are you doing here?"

Chapter Text

"Hello, Noah," Kurt said in his typical prim voice. Beside him Meg snorted and Kurt could hear her mutter, "Noah?" But he ignored her in favor of meeting Puck's eyes. He knew better than to back down from Puck. Besides, they had come to some sort of truce over the last year. Or at least he thought they had. "I was out for a walk and stumbled upon this little soiree. Meg was kind enough to invite me to stay."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Here you are Kurt," Jack said as he wandered back to where he was sitting. "$200. That's the last of the payouts for tonight. And with Carl, Kim and the guys from the fire house, that leaves…" He did some calculations in his notebook. "$1700 for you Puck."

"Awesome, dude." Puck took the cash as Jack counted it out. He pocketed the bills and smiled. "We should get outside talent in more often if the payout is this good."

Jack chuckled, "I'll see what I can do." He had made more money from the fight as well.

Kurt turned to Meg while Puck and Jack continued to talk about possible opponents. "Thank you for everything, but I should probably get going."

"Listen, give me your email," Meg said. "That way I can let you know when and where the next fight will be. You may not want to come again, but… you never know."

"Thanks," Kurt said with a smile and quickly gave her his email address before he could change his mind.

"I'll be in touch," Meg said.

Kurt smiled and said goodbye before turning to go. The walk down the drive towards the road was longer than Kurt remembered, and he wondered just how long it was going to take to get home. Between the late hour, the physical exertion of getting there, and the two beers he'd drunk, Kurt was feeling exhausted.

He hadn't gone more than a couple hundred yards down the road when a pickup truck pulled up beside him and stopped. Kurt watched warily as the driver leaned over to open the passenger door. As the door opened the cabin light flicked on and Kurt cold see Puck. "Need a ride?"

Sighing in relief, Kurt nodded and climbed in. "Thanks. I was dreading the walk back."

Puck winced a little as he shifted the truck into drive. "How'd you end up at the fights?"

Kurt shrugged. "I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk. I saw the bonfire and heard the cheering so I decided to check it out. Meg and Jack were really nice, so I stayed."

"And bet on me to win," Puck said with a smirk that Kurt could barely make out in the lights from the dash. "Made $200."

"I made $150," Kurt corrected. "I spent $10 to get in and put down $40 for the bet."

"Whatever," Puck said. "You still made money off my win."

Kurt was quiet for a few minutes, but a question had been bugging him since Meg had told him how much Puck made per fight. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go for it," Puck said. "Can't promise I'll answer though."

"Okay," Kurt said. "When you and Finn got in trouble for slashing the tires on Vocal Adrenaline's SUVs you took a job at the worst store in Lima to pay for the damages. If you make this kind of money fighting… why?"

"And how was I supposed to explain having that kind of money to Principal Figgins and Schue?" Puck asked. "Besides, the money I make fighting goes into the bank. I am not going to be a Lima loser for the rest of my life. I have plans."

"Don't we all," Kurt said quietly. "I've been working at my dad's garage since I was ten so that I could build up my savings. Once I graduate, I am so out of here."

They were both quiet for the rest of the ride, but when they pulled up in front of Kurt's house the smaller boy turned to Puck and said, "I have a really great balm that helps heal bruises. If you want to come in, I can give you some."

Puck stared at Kurt for a long minute before nodding and shutting off the truck. He wasn't usually the type to take help, but his ribs and side really hurt and anything that could make him feel better would be welcome. Instead of heading to the front door, Kurt led Puck around to the side of the house and climbed through the basement window. Puck was a little stiff climbing through, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Puck looked around the room they had entered and seemed surprised. Kurt was sure he had expected something… different. After all the bitching and moaning that Finn had done, it wouldn't surprise him if Puck had thought that there were pink boas everywhere. Instead, he had gotten rid of the stuff that had caused the rift between him and Finn and redecorated his room completely. He still had his white furniture, but the walls were now an electric blue and he had splashes of red, lime green and more electric blue throughout the room in the bed linens, the rugs, and some of the accessories. It was sleek and modern and yet colorful and Kurt really liked the new look.

Puck wandered around the room and opened the door to the walk-in closet and blinked a few times as he took in how many clothes Kurt owned. Then he found the bathroom and Kurt knew what he was seeing. The walls and tiles around the shower and the tub in that room were both black, as were the vanity and toilet. The only color came from the lime green candles around the soaking tub and the lime green towels.

"Mind if I shower before you lather me up with goop?" Puck asked.

Kurt was surprised but didn't really mind. "That's fine. There are fresh towels on the shelf above the toilet."

"Thanks," Puck said and the door shut behind him.

Kurt sighed and dug in the drawer of his vanity for the balm and some ibuprophen. He also found a couple wide ace bandages that could help. Compression was supposed to reduce the swelling and pain from severe bruises. He set both on the bed and went upstairs to find some cold packs and a couple bottles of water. When he had everything he thought he might need, Kurt sat down and waited for Puck to emerge.

Puck was rather quick in the shower, despite his injuries and he was only a few more minutes before he emerged in just his jeans, carrying his shirt and shoes in his hand.

"So where do you want me?" Puck asked. The fact that neither boy picked up on the possible double meaning of that statement said a lot about just how tired they both were.

Kurt stood up and motioned for Puck to come over. "Here's good." He handed Puck the ibuprophen and water and waited for him to take some. Then he grabbed the balm and looked at Puck. "Um… do you want me to put it on, or would you rather do it yourself?"

"I'm a little stiff right now, so if you don't mind doing it…"

Kurt nodded and uncapped the tube of ointment and squeezed a good amount onto his fingers. He spread the balm over the bruises that were already forming, very careful not to press too hard and cause more pain. He tried very hard not to notice just how hard and well-defined Puck's muscles were or how warm his skin was after the shower. This wasn't about that.

"That shit stinks," Puck said. "What is it?"

"It's an all-natural remedy for bruises," Kurt said as he continued to spread the balm. "It has witch hazel to repair the damaged veins and arnica to stimulate healing. It also has a mild analgesic to reduce the pain."

"It actually does feel a little better," Puck admitted.

"Good," Kurt said. "I'm going to wrap you up in an ace bandage, too. The pressure helps reduce swelling and prevent re-injuring the area."

Kurt was quick in his motions, but the fact that he had to wrap the bandage all the way around Puck brought them much closer physically than he was entirely comfortable with. He sighed in relief when that was done. But then he remembered the cold packs. He had Puck hold them in place while Kurt used the second ace bandage to keep them where they were needed most. When he was done, he stepped back and looked over his work.

"You're pretty good at this," Puck observed.

"I've had a lot of practice," Kurt said darkly. He bent to pick up the tube of ointment from the floor where it had fallen. He didn't realize it at the time, but his t-shirt rode up, showing the fading bruises from his last attack. "Here. You can take the rest of this tube. I have another."

Puck didn't take the tube. Instead he reached for Kurt's shirt, making the other boy flinch away. "What are you doing?"

"Show me the bruises," Puck said. He stared at Kurt until Kurt sighed.

"Fine." Kurt lifted his t-shirt and let Puck see the bruises that weren't all that different than the ones he had just treated on Puck. He turned around when Puck urged him to and then finished the circle before dropping his shirt again. "Happy?"

"Not really," Puck said with a frown. "Who did that?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You can't be that dumb."

"Just answer the fucking question," Puck growled.

"This last time?" Kurt said snidely. "Karofsky, Azimio and Sattler. But almost every jock in the school has taken a turn at one time or another. Usually in groups of two or three, but once there were seven of them."

Puck was frowning. "I thought it was just the dumpster and slushies and shit."

"Right," Kurt huffed. "Because that was okay."

"No, it's not alright, but the only thing that got damaged was your pride and maybe some clothes," Puck snapped. "This shit is different!"

Kurt closed his eyes. "It's not your problem."

Puck stared at Kurt for a long minute before nodding. "I guess you're right."

"You should go," Kurt said. "I'm tired and you need sleep to heal properly."

Puck pulled his shirt over his head carefully. "I'll give your shit back on Monday." And then he was crawling back out Kurt's window.

Kurt sat down on his bed and wondered if this whole night had been some weird dream.

PKPKPKPKPK

Kurt found Puck's discarded towel on the floor of his bathroom the next morning and knew that it hadn't been a dream. Having over slept and running on only four hours of sleep, Kurt dressed in a rush, not bothering with his hair or makeup. He just pulled on the same jeans he had worn the night before, along with a clean black t-shirt. Then he rushed upstairs to find his dad almost finished with breakfast. Kurt made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, wrapped it in a napkin, poured some coffee into his travel mug and followed Burt Hummel out the front door.

"You cut it pretty close today," Burt said once they were on their way to the garage.

"Had trouble sleeping last night," Kurt said. "And then I overslept. Sorry."

Burt shrugged. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Kurt was quiet as he considered everything that was keeping him up nights and knew that there was nothing he could really tell his dad. "It's nothing important. Just some school stuff."

"You know you can talk to me," Burt said. "I want to help you."

Kurt gave his dad a grateful smile. "I know dad. And I appreciate that, but there's really nothing that you can do to help this time. It's just some stuff I have to work through."

"If you're sure," Burt said reluctantly.

"I am," Kurt said and began to eat his breakfast, knowing his dad wouldn't ask him anything while he was eating.

Saturdays at the garage were always busy and it was easy for Kurt to avoid any serious discussions with his father. That Saturday, Kurt did three brake jobs, replaced a muffler, and changed the tires on five cars. He figured he had earned his $17 an hour that day. Not many people knew it but Kurt actually had gotten his mechanic's certificate as soon as he was old enough to take the test. He usually worked about 20 hours a week in the garage doing the jobs that wouldn't take three days to finish. It wasn't that he couldn't do the more complex jobs, but since his schedule changed so much, it made more sense to have one of the guys who would be there every day to do those jobs.

It wasn't until almost closing time that Kurt actually had time to sit down and eat the sandwich his dad had bought for him earlier. It was while he was sitting behind the counter in the office that Noah Puckerman came through the door.

"Yeah, so, you need to learn how to fight," Puck said without preamble. "And I'm gonna teach you."

Kurt frowned. "What?"

Puck glared at Kurt as though he was offended that he would question his decree. "You need to learn to fight so that they have to leave you alone. Beat the shit out of one or two of them and they'll back off. They'll be afraid that people will hear that they got beaten up by the gay kid."

Kurt stared at Puck for a minute. "Suppose I agree to this insanity, how is that supposed to help when they gang up on me?"

"I'll take care of that," Puck said. "What do you say?"

"I don't know," Kurt said. "What makes you even think I'd be any good at fighting?"

"You're strong, fast and flexible," Puck said. "You can kick like nobody's business, and with a little weight training and some lessons in how to fight, I think you'd actually be okay. At least good enough to take on the lunkheads at school." He met Kurt's eyes and asked. "So?"

Kurt was still a little uncertain that this was a good idea, but it couldn't be any worse than getting his ass kicked every week for the next two years.

"Okay," Kurt said with a determination he didn't entirely feel. "When do we start?"

Chapter Text

A little weight training turned out to be an excruciating schedule of lifting free weights and a circuit on the weight machines in the school weight room at an ungodly hour of the morning three days a week, and running five miles the other three mornings, with only Saturdays off because he had to be up early to work at the garage. Add in daily sit-ups with a weight on his chest to strengthen his abdominal muscles so that he could take a punch, and a similar exercise in which Kurt was bent over a bench while Puck held his legs down and he had to lift his torso using the muscles in his back.

The first week, Kurt had barely been able to walk from class to class after his torture sessions with Puck. And they hadn't even begun the lessons in fighting. The one good thing about those early morning workouts was that the jocks never had a chance to corner him before school, the time when he was most vulnerable to attacks.

After two weeks of training, Puck deemed Kurt ready to start on fighting. So the afternoons he didn't work at the shop, Kurt and Puck spent time in Kurt's garage at home working on his fighting skills. Surprisingly, Puck didn't start by teaching Kurt how to throw a punch.

"You have more strength in your legs than you do your arms," Puck said. "That's true for everyone, but most people aren't trained dancers who know how to balance and kick and actually use their legs."

So Puck took Kurt through a series of moves that he said was based on some martial art, slowly at first, but gradually increasing the speed of his movements until Kurt could go through the entire set perfectly. It took two more weeks of practicing these moves before Puck started helping Kurt translate the motions into actual fighting moves.

Along with the roundhouse kicks, sweeper kicks, block and hold breaks, Puck also began teaching Kurt to punch. The fact that Kurt's dad had a punching bag and mats in the garage helped tremendously. By the mid October, Kurt was actually feeling pretty good about his ability to defend himself. He and Puck had even begun sparring. He knew that Puck was holding back a lot, but Kurt was gaining confidence in his abilities.

They were sparring one Sunday afternoon while Burt was out with Carole and Puck was pushing Kurt harder than he ever had. There was a little more power behind the pulled punches, and he had begun taunting Kurt. Kurt knew that he had to keep his head; getting angry was the first step in losing a fight. Control was everything. But Puck was making it very hard to keep control. Every punch Kurt would throw, Puck dodged and then retaliated with an annoying little slap to Kurt's cheek, just sharp enough to really piss him off.

"Is the fag gonna cry?" Puck taunted. "Let's see if I can make the fairy-boy cry." He ducked another punch, but Kurt had been expecting his move and followed up with a sweeper kick that hit its mark and knocked Puck on his ass. Kurt used his position to his advantage and got in a few good hits before Puck was able to roll them and take the stronger position.

There followed more of those annoyingly sharp slaps while Puck taunted, "Whatcha gonna do now gay-boy?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Burt Hummel shouted even as he advanced to tear Puck apart.

Puck didn't even move to defend himself, but Kurt shouted, "No dad!"

Burt was able to stop mid swing and stare down at his son. "What do you mean: no? He's hurting you!"

Puck very slowly rose to his feet, careful not to make any sudden movements that Kurt's enraged father could misinterpret. Then he held out a hand to help Kurt up.

Once Kurt was on his feet, he brushed off the dirt from the garage floor and glared at his dad. "I mean, Puck is teaching me to fight."

"It didn't look like that to me," Burt said, still glaring at Puck. "It looked to me like he was hurting you and calling you names. In your own home!"

Kurt sighed. "Seriously dad, Puck's been helping me learn to protect myself. Part of that is learning how to ignore the things they say to me so that I can concentrate on getting out of a situation unharmed. He wasn't being serious, and he wasn't hurting me."

Burt looked at Kurt and noted that the slight pinkness that had been on his cheeks from Puck's slaps was already fading. "I still don't like this."

"Maybe I should go," Puck said. "I'll see you tomorrow before school?"

"I'll be there," Kurt said.

Once Puck was gone, Kurt sighed and said, "Would you like me to show you what I've learned?"

Burt looked wary. "How?"

"Try to grab me," Kurt said. "However you want."

Burt looked at his son and then went for his shoulders, like he was going to shake him. Before he could even reach Kurt, he was flat on his back on the mat the boys had put down with Kurt's foot at his neck.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Kurt said. He reached down to help his dad stand up. "You believe me now?"

"Yeah," Burt said and rubbed his ass. "I'm not sure why you feel the need to learn to fight though. You shouldn't have to resort to violence to solve your problems."

"I shouldn't have to, but I do," Kurt said wearily. He picked up the water bottle he had brought out earlier and took a long drink. "Dad, I can't rely on you or some other strong guy to defend me for the rest of my life. I need to be able to protect myself from being hurt."

"Are those kids at school hurting you?" Burt asked with a quiet intensity that Kurt recognized.

And so Kurt lied. "It's not that bad, yet, but it has gotten worse this year. I'm afraid that if I don't learn to stand up for myself, they'll just keep pushing and pushing. So Puck offered to help me. We've been at it for almost two months now and I'm getting pretty good, don't you think?"

"So that's why you've been going to school early every day?" Burt asked.

Kurt shrugged. "We run and lift weights in the mornings. And then we spar after his football practices on the afternoons when I'm not at the garage."

Burt nodded thoughtfully. "What he was doing, that's not like any fighting I've seen taught before."

"Because he's teaching me to street fight," Kurt said with a smile. "He basically combines some martial arts moves, some boxing and some plain old-fashioned dirty fighting to win at all costs. According to Puck, you don't get points by following the rules in a real fight."

Burt laughed at that. "I suppose he's right."

"What are you doing home?" Kurt finally asked. "I thought you and Carole were spending the day together?"

"We are," Burt said. "She and Finn are in the house. We wanted to maybe try and spend some time together, all four of us. Is that okay?"

Kurt smiled. "That's great, dad. Just let me go shower and change and I'll be happy to spend some time with Carole and Finn, like a family."

"Yeah, like a family," Burt said with a smile.

PKPKPKPKPK

"What was Puck doing here earlier?" Finn asked later that evening. They had all gone to the mini-golf place and then had dinner at Breadstix. Now Kurt and Finn were sitting in the living room while Burt and Carole were making hot cider or something in the kitchen.

"He's teaching me to fight," Kurt said. He didn't think Puck would be too mad that he told Finn, considering Burt had found them and he had to have seen Finn when he left. "But don't go telling everyone. I don't think he wants everyone to know."

"Why?" Finn wondered.

"Why is he teaching me? Or why doesn't he want other people to know?" Kurt asked.

Finn shrugged. "Both, I guess."

"He's teaching me to fight so that your jock buddies can't keep using me as a punching bag," Kurt said coolly. Puck may not have noticed what was going on, but Kurt knew for a fact that Finn had seen Azimio and Karofsky shove him into lockers and punch him. And he had walked the other direction.

Finn looked ashamed, knowing that he should have done something to help. "I'm sorry."

Kurt wanted to hold a grudge, but he knew that he and Finn needed to get along for their parents sake, so he huffed in annoyance and finally said, "I know."

"So why doesn't he want people to know?" Finn asked. "Is he ashamed to be your friend or something?"

"I don't think that's why," Kurt said. "I think it's strategy. If they don't know to expect it, I'll have a better shot of kicking some jock ass."

Burt and Carole returned and they had to let the subject drop, but Kurt could tell that Finn had more questions and he wondered if the taller teen would seek Puck out for answers.

PKPKPKPKPK

Whatever questions Finn may have had, Puck didn't bring them up. Kurt told him that Finn knew on Monday, but that was the only time they really talked about the subject. Puck did agree to let Burt watch one of their sparring sessions, and while he had been just as tough on Kurt physically, he hadn't resorted to the taunting that had pissed Burt off the last time. In the end, Burt had offered to take Puck out to dinner with them to thank him for helping Kurt.

On Thursday, Kurt got an email from Meg while he was in his last period. There was going to be another fight night the next night. Kurt read through the information and saw that the location was further out of town, but he thought he could find it okay. The only real question was how he was going to get his car out of the drive without his dad waking up.

And then something awful happened. Dave Karofsky pushed him into the locker one time too many and Kurt lost his cool. Rather than just letting it go, he followed the jock into the boys' locker room and confronted him.

"What is your problem?" Kurt shouted as he burst through the door.

"Excuse me?" Karofsky dropped the clothes he was packing into his duffle and got into an aggressive stance.

Kurt didn't back down. "What are you so scared of?"

"Besides you sneakin' in here to peek at my junk?" Karofsky tried to intimidate Kurt, but it wasn't working this time.

Kurt tone turned mocking. "Oh yeah, every straight guys' nightmare, that all us gays are secretly out to molest and convert you! Well guess what ham hock, you're not my type!"

"That right?" Karofsky growled

Kurt sneered back at him. "Yeah, I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be bald by the time they're thirty."

"Do not push me Hummel," Karofsky said with his fist raised.

Kurt eyed his fist and knew that the moment had come. "You going to hit me? Do it!"

"Don't push me!" He slammed his locker door closed in frustration.

"Hit me! Because it's not going to change who I am; you can't punch the gay out of me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you!" Kurt was breathing fast and adrenaline was coursing through his veins.

"Get out of my face!"

"You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!"

And then, instead of hitting him as Kurt had been prepared for, Karofsky kissed him.

Shocked into immobility for just a moment, Kurt did nothing. And then his brain kicked in and his knee went for Karofsky's groin. Karofsky was bent double and didn't have time to even register the fact that Kurt was fighting back. Kurt's fist connected with Karofsky's face, sending him flying onto his ass. Kurt continued to hit him two more times before he could put his arms up to defend himself.

Kurt stood up and straightened his clothes. He looked down on Karofsky. "Don't ever touch me like that again. You have some serious issues, Karofsky. Get some help!"

And with that he walked out of the locker room with his head held high, but as the adrenaline wore off, he began to shake with shock and fear. What had he done? There was no way Karofsky was going to let that slide.

He reached the choir room, but couldn't bring himself to go in, not with the way he knew he looked and felt. He wouldn't be able to hide anything, especially from Mercedes.

"Hummel?" Puck was suddenly there. "What happened?"

"K-Karofsky," Kurt said. "I… He…"

Puck took Kurt by the arm and steered him towards the closest boys' bathroom. "Take deep breaths and let it go."

Kurt did what he was told and slowly felt like he wasn't going to shake apart. "Karofsky pushed me again. And I know I shouldn't have followed him into the locker room, but I did. We were screaming at each other and then…"

"What happened?" Puck asked.

"He kissed me," Kurt said with a horror that was just settling in. "He kissed me."

"Seriously?" Puck asked with surprise and then shrugged. "Guess that explains some shit, though. What did you do?"

"I… I kneed him in the groin and then used an uppercut the way you showed me last week," Kurt said. "He went down and I hit him a few more times before I got up, told him to get some help for his issues and left."

Puck chuckled and gave Kurt one of his one armed hugs. "Dude, you totally kicked ass. I knew you could do it!"

Kurt nodded and then shook his head. "Yeah, I did it. But this isn't good Puck! He's not going to let this go! He's going to come back with more goons and I'll be a dead man!"

"No he won't," Puck assured him, "because you now have two things over him."

"What?" Kurt wondered.

Puck smirked. "First of all, come on, what self-respecting homophobic jock is going to admit to his pals that he got beat up by the resident fag? None! And second, he's so afraid of being a fag himself that he'll probably do just about anything to keep that little kiss quiet. You've got him by the balls, Hummel!"

Kurt cringed. "Not an image I needed after today."

Puck put both arms around Kurt this time and gave him a real hug. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," Kurt nodded against his chest.

"Good," Puck said. "Come on, we're late for glee."

Kurt nodded and followed Puck to the door. "I got an email from Meg about tomorrow."

"If you want, I can pick you up," Puck offered.

Kurt smiled. "That would be great. Thanks. There's no way my dad wouldn't hear me start up the Navigator right under his window."

"I'll meet you down the road two houses and text you when I get there," Puck said. They had reached the choir room again and all talk of Karofsky and fight club had to be set aside for the time.

Chapter Text

No one in glee seemed to notice the odd looks exchanged between Kurt and Puck that day. Puck kept looking at Kurt like a proud father when his kid takes his first steps. And after glee, Kurt had to go work at the garage, so there was no time to hang out with Mercedes or any of the other girls. Not even Burt noticed anything off about Kurt that day. A part of him was disappointed. He felt like he had done something hugely significant, something that intrinsically changed who he was, and yet no one seemed to notice. He thought it should be written all over his face.

The only real evidence of his encounter with Karofsky was the bruised knuckles on his right hand from connecting with his cheekbone. Kurt looked at his sore hand as he worked and had to hold back a smile each time. He had beaten the shit out of one of his tormentors. A part of him felt bad because Karofsky was obviously very screwed up, and Kurt knew how hard it could be to understand and accept your sexuality. But that didn't excuse Karofsky's behavior. Neither punches, nor stolen kisses were acceptable reactions to inner turmoil. So even though it hurt every time he turned the socket wrench, Kurt knew it was worth the pain.

Karofsky showed up to school the next day with a black eye and swollen jaw and a story about getting jumped by the hockey team from a rival school. He refused to even look in Kurt's direction when they passed in the halls. It seemed that Puck had been right. And when Azimio tried to get him to help torment Kurt and Tina as they were walking down the hall, Karofsky made some excuse about his dad sending him to military school if he didn't stop fighting and then walked the other way. Azimio glared at Kurt, but followed Karofsky.

"What was that all about?" Tina wondered aloud.

"No idea," Kurt said with a smile.

Later, as Puck walked with Kurt to lunch, he told him that there was some truth to the military school threat. It seemed Karofsky's father was starting to think there was something seriously wrong with his son. Dave Karofsky had once been one of the nicest kids in their middle school, but now he was constantly in trouble for fighting and picking on other kids.

"He doesn't need military school," Kurt said. "In fact, that would probably just mess up his head even more. I mean really, what portion of society is even more homophobic than teenaged boys? The military. No, he needs counseling—serious counseling, not the half-assed counseling that Miss Pillsbury doles out."

Puck shrugged. "Probably. Maybe he'll get the help he needs now."

The rest of the day went smoothly, and when Kurt headed to his basement at 11, Burt didn't think anything of it. Instead of getting dressed for bed, however, Kurt grabbed his work jeans and a clean t-shirt. Over the tee, he pulled on one of the flannel shirts he'd gotten during what he now referred to as his "Unfortunate-Mellencamp-Phase." Then he sat at the vanity to remove his makeup and mess up his perfect hair, going for a more natural look. Finally, he grabbed his dad's old leather jacket from his closet and pulled it on. His dad had worn this jacket when he was in high school, but it no longer fit him, so he gave it to Kurt. Kurt had never believed he would wear anything as beat up as the old black biker jacket, but he thought it would help him fit into the crowd a little better than his purple pea coat.

Kurt waited for the text from Puck and as soon as it came, he was climbing out the window and heading away from the house as quickly and quietly as he could. Puck's pickup was idling by the curb a few houses down and Kurt was quick to get in and shut the door. Puck looked him over with some surprise.

"Wow Hummel, you look… so ordinary," Puck said.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I wasn't sure your fight buddies would welcome a boy in ivory skinny jeans and a purple pea coat."

Puck shrugged. "Probably right. I like the jacket."

"Thanks," Kurt said with a small smile.

The trip out to the farm where the fights were being held was pretty quiet, but they did talk a bit. One of the most surprising things they had discovered as they spent more time together was that they actually had more in common than they had ever suspected. For instance, Kurt was actually quite fond of playing video games, though he avoided most of the violent games. The two had several conversations about Mario Brothers and had debated the merits of PS3, Wii, and Xbox. On the other hand, Kurt was surprised to find that Puck was actually a very good cook and prepared most of the family meals for his mom and sister.

That day, Kurt was more interested in knowing who Puck would be fighting and so he asked.

"Jack has contacts all over the state and a few in Indiana, too," Puck said. "So he invited another outsider. This one is from Indianapolis. His name is Jimbo. No last name apparently. He's even more heavily favored than the last guy. Bigger too."

"Well, bigger doesn't always mean better," Kurt said with a smile. Puck had proven that to him the last fight and Kurt had proved it to himself the day before when he'd dealt with Karofsky.

"Exactly," Puck said. "Anyway, if I win tonight, I'll make a really big purse. Half the county has money riding on this one."

"Well, I expect you to win," Kurt said. "I can really use the extra cash."

They pulled up a long drive that wound through a copse of trees before opening up again to show the farm. The bonfire lit up the night and there had to be almost three hundred people gathered between the house and the barn. They were greeted right away by Norm, the host and bookie that evening. Kurt paid his fee and put $100 down on Puck, much to Puck's amusement.

Just then Jack came over to them and said to Norm. "Bad news. The new kid, Aaron, has backed out."

"That means we don't have anyone to fight Carl," Norm sighed. "That's a pain in the ass."

Puck looked at Kurt and then said to Norm, "Kurt could fight Carl."

"Puck!" Kurt protested. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Dude, you could totally take Carl. Trust me," Puck said with a grin.

Norm and Jack both looked at Kurt expectantly. Kurt hesitated. "I… yeah, okay, I'll do it."

"Awesome!" Puck crowed. "I'm putting $100 on Kurt."

Norm shook his head, but made the note in his book and took Puck's money. Then Norm and Jack started the long process of contacting the people who had money down on that fight.

"I need a drink," Kurt moaned when he realized what he had agreed to do.

"Not until after you fight," Puck said. "It'll slow your reflexes."

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Kurt said. "Tell me about this guy?"

"Okay, Carl's been around a long time, so he has experience," Puck said. "But, he's getting up in years and he's slowed down a lot. That's to your advantage. Remember what I taught you and don't let him psych you out and you'll be fine."

"Right," Kurt said trying to sound confident but failing miserably.

Meg came up to them then and gave Kurt a hug. "I'm so glad you came. And Jack just told me that you let this lunkhead talk you into fighting Carl?"

"Yeah," Kurt sighed. "Not the smartest thing I've ever done. But Puck's been training me so that I can defend myself, so maybe I'll have a shot."

"Well, if Puck thinks you're good enough to beat Carl, I'd listen to him," Meg said wisely. "Puck's not just a great fighter; he's one of the best at picking winners. None of the bookies will let him tell his picks for fear that he'll throw off the odds."

"I don't get them all right," Puck said. "But I do usually win more than I lose."

Kurt looked at Puck and nodded. If Puck thought he could do it, then Kurt thought he was probably right. "Well, I'll just have to make sure I win to prove you right."

Because Kurt was the lowest ranked fighter (read a complete unknown), his fight was first, so it wasn't long before Puck had him stripped down to his t-shirt and had him doing some warm up stretches and throwing a few punches into his hands to get ready. Carl came over and introduced himself, and Kurt was surprised to find that Carl actually reminded him a bit of Coach Tanaka, only bald. He was big and squishy and sweaty, and Kurt was more than a little repulsed by the idea of touching him even to punch him, but it was too late to back out now.

Kurt shook the man's hand and then, before he knew it, he was in the middle of the circle of yelling strangers facing the sweaty bald man. Carl circled a few times and Kurt just sort of watched him with one brow raised in his most arrogant Ice-Queen stance. Kurt didn't want to make the first move because, well that would mean touching the guy, so he waited for Carl to charge him like a bull and Kurt easily sidestepped him and tripped him all in a single fluid movement. Carl was back on his feet faster than Kurt would have expected, but he was still leery of touching the man, so he waited again. This time, Carl smirked at him before making his move. This time he was more successful and clipped Kurt's shoulder with a rather painful punch before getting him in a choke hold.

Kurt acted on pure instincts at that point; there was no way he wanted that sweaty bear of a man touching him, let alone holding him like that. Kurt used a combination elbow to the gut and stomp to the guy's arch before slipping free and doing a combo punch to the face and kick to the solar plexus that landed perfectly to knock the wind completely out of his opponent. Kurt was breathing a little heavy and his adrenaline was still pumping through him as he waited to see if the guy would get back up. He didn't. The same guy he had seen last time came out with smelling salts and then checked Carl over.

Kurt couldn't even hear the cheering until Puck rushed up to him and gave him a bear hug. "Dude! You won! What did I tell you?"

Kurt blinked a few times before frowning. "Noah Puckerman, put me down his instant. I am not a toy you can pick up and toss around." Puck put him down but his grin was still firmly in place. "That man sweated on me." The disgust was obvious in Kurt's voice.

"Yeah, but you kicked his ass," Puck said. "Let's get you a beer and then you can find out how much money you won."

Kurt meekly followed Puck as various strangers congratulated Kurt on his win. Puck seemed to know everyone, but Kurt just smiled and nodded and tried to keep up with Puck. There was actually hot mulled wine as well as beer, so Kurt opted for the warmer beverage. Even though he had donned his flannel and leather jacket again, it was still late October and the nights got awfully cold.

Puck took a beer and Kurt glared at him. "I thought you said no beer before a fight?"

"That's for you," Puck smirked. "I've been drinking a lot longer than you and one beer's not going to affect me. Besides, I won't be fighting for more than an hour. Come on; let's go see if Meg saved a couple chairs for us."

Kurt followed Puck back towards the bonfire and they found Meg near Jack and Norm. Norm approached them and handed Puck three hundred bucks. Then he handed Kurt, seven hundred and ninety dollars, plus the ten dollars he paid for his admission—fighters didn't pay to get in or drink. Kurt counted it and frowned. "But I thought… Meg said most of the fights only pay half this."

"They do," Norm said. "But you had two things going for you kid. One you're new and so the odds were heavy in Carl's favor, in fact only Puck, Jack and Meg bet on you, and two there's a lot more bettors than usual because of the bout between Puck and Jimbo."

Kurt smiled and handed five twenties back to Norm. "I want to double my bet on Puck."

Norm grinned at the kid and took his money. "You got it kid."

"Kurt, get your ass over here," Meg called. She had saved them seats after all. Kurt took the seat beside her and Puck was on his other side. "Congratulations on your first win."

"Thanks," Kurt said a little shyly. "It wasn't anything like I thought it would be."

"Yeah, well, if you keep fighting, it will get tougher than Carl," Meg told him.

Kurt frowned. "I don't know if I want to do this again."

"Really, Dude?" Puck asked with some surprise. "Because you looked totally great out there. The odds aren't going to be quite so strongly against you next time, but three or four hundred bucks for ten minutes of work isn't bad. Besides, it'll help keep you in shape to fight those assholes at school. Keep you sharp."

"I'll think about it," Kurt finally said.

Chapter Text

Puck's opponent was even bigger than the guy from Columbus. And there were no jokes or friendly banter before the fight. This guy was more like a mountain of mean. Kurt could swear he heard the man growl more than once at some poor unsuspecting person trying to make polite conversation. Kurt suddenly had real fear for Puck's well-being as the two combatants faced off against each other. If Kurt had been at all religious, he would have been praying right then.

Jimbo only landed about a third of his punches, but that was enough to inflict some serious damage to Puck. After about ten minutes, Puck's face was pretty messed up and he had blood dripping into his left eye, making it hard to see from that side. Jimbo was taking advantage of that fact and most of his hits were to Puck's ribs and gut on that side. Kurt was sure that Puck was on the verge of passing out from the pain when he caught sight of something in Puck's eyes, a glint of steely resolve.

It was like something out of those awful Rocky movies his dad like to watch. One minute Puck was losing, and the next he was getting pissed off and landing more and more of his punches. And then Puck was fighting like a demon, throwing punch after punch at the guy's head, and just when Jimbo looked like he might be gearing up to get a second wind, Puck used a series of jabs to the guy's solar plexus. One last roundhouse punch to the guy's face and the mean mountain was crumbling.

Puck staggered for a moment, waiting to see if Jimbo would rise again, but when he didn't, Puck fell flat on his ass. Kurt rushed over to him. "Puck? Are you okay?"

"Kurt?" Puck said with a sappy grin on his face. "Did I win?"

Kurt took a deep breath and let it out again. "Yeah, you won."

"Good," Puck said. "He was mean."

"Yes he was," Kurt agreed and looked over to where Meg was talking to the doctor who usually checked out the fighters. A few seconds later she came over with smelling salts. Kurt took the little cloth covered tube from her and broke the inner tube of glass before waving it under Puck's nose. Puck's face as he batted Kurt's hand away from his face would have been comical if Kurt hadn't been so worried about him.

"Stop, stop!" Puck protested loudly. "Get that shit away from me. I'm awake."

He definitely sounded more like himself. "Okay, then tell me who you are, who I am, where we are, and what the date is."

Puck growled, but Kurt refused to remove the smelling salts until Puck answered. "Fine. I'm Noah Puckerman, you're Kurt Hummel, we're at Norm's farm, and it's Friday October 29, 2010."

"Well, since it's after midnight, it's technically Saturday the 30th, but I think we can let that go," Meg said with a smile. "How do you feel?"

"A little nauseous from that smelly shit you shoved up my nose," Puck admitted. "And I feel like I just mixed it up with a freight train, but other than that, pretty good."

"Think you can stand?" Kurt asked.

Puck nodded, but it actually took both Kurt and Meg's help to get him to his feet. It wasn't dizziness making things difficult, however; it was the injuries to his ribs and side. One thing Kurt had learned from many discussions about fighting was that any injuries to the head tended to bleed more than other injuries, making them seem a lot worse than they actually are, so despite the fact that Puck was still bleeding from the cut above his eye, no one was particularly concerned by it.

They got him over to where the doctor—Dr. Caleb Jones, Kurt discovered when Meg introduced them—was still treating Jimbo. The mountain of a man was growling, and then he shoved Caleb aside and stumbled off to where his friend was waiting to drive him home. Puck took his place in the chair by Caleb. For the next few minutes, Caleb checked Puck over and patched him up. He put a couple stitches in the cut above Puck's left eye and then wrapped his torso in ace bandages.

"I think he might have cracked a couple of your ribs," Caleb told Puck. "But you aren't coughing up blood, and you're breathing okay, so I think you'll be fine. Just keep the bandages around you until your ribs heal. That means more than just a day." Caleb glared at Puck and Puck sighed before agreeing. "Don't go home alone tonight. You need someone to keep an eye on you. You have a mild concussion, and with the cracked ribs, I'd feel better if you had someone looking out for you."

"He can stay at mine," Kurt said and Caleb nodded.

"Call me in a week or so and I'll take the stitches out for you," Caleb told Puck. Then to Kurt he said, "If he has any problems breathing or he starts getting confused, take him to the hospital."

"I will," Kurt promised.

Jack and Norm came over to them before Caleb released them to leave. Norm gave Kurt $1400, his winnings from Puck's fight. Then he counted out $3200 for Puck. "It's a great purse," Norm said. "But I don't think we should invite another outsider for a few months. Give you some time to recover. That guy was a real beast."

Puck nodded his agreement. "Yeah, any more like him and I'll have to spend all my winnings on hospital bills."

Kurt insisted on driving Puck's truck back to his house. They were almost there before Kurt thought of something. "I told Caleb you would stay, but I didn't think that maybe your mom will be worried if you aren't there in the morning."

"She won't even notice," Puck said. "And if she does, it won't be the first time. She'll just call and rag me out over the phone and then ignore me for another month."

Kurt parked the truck in front of their neighbor's house and led Puck to the front door. It was riskier, but he didn't think Puck could make it through the window this time. He could tell that Puck was trying to be quiet as he followed him to the basement stairs, but his injuries made moving painful and he couldn't hold back a couple groans. Kurt was able to get them down to his room and Puck flopped onto Kurt's bed.

Kurt went to work helping Puck take off his shoes and socks then his jeans and t-shirt. Then he got a wet rag and a towel so that he could wash most of the blood from Puck's face and head. When that was finished, he dried him off. Kurt needed to get a bottle of water so that Puck could take some pain pills, but he couldn't risk going back upstairs dressed in jeans, so he quickly stripped off his own clothes. He was surprised when a gentle hand touched his shoulder.

"That looks pretty painful," Puck said and he ran his fingers over the bruise that Carl had left from his one good punch.

Kurt chuckled. "A little, but it's nothing compared to your injuries."

"You need to put that smelly shit on it," Puck said as he kept touching the tender skin. "And some ice."

Kurt shivered from Puck's touch and had to pull away before he did something really stupid. "I'll do that. I just need to get dressed in case my dad finds me in the kitchen."

Puck nodded and went back to sit on the bed, but his eyes continued to followed Kurt's movements. Once he was dressed in his favorite silk pajamas, Kurt hit the stairs and headed for the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. A few deep breaths later, Kurt thought he might be able to forget about the way Puck's finger's had felt like electricity dancing over his bare skin. He gathered the supplies and headed back down.

Puck had found a pair of Kurt's jogging pants and was standing beside the bed trying to pull them on, but was having difficulty since moving really hurt. Kurt set everything on the bed and pushed Puck's hands away before helping the other teen slide the too small pants up over his boxers. When he finished, he stood up and realized that he was standing much closer to Puck than was probably wise.

Kurt looked into Puck's eyes and was lost. When Puck pulled Kurt closer and leaned forward so that their lips could press together, there was no resistance in him. It was a soft and gentle kiss, almost like Puck was testing the feel and taste. Whatever he was looking for he must have found because it didn't take long for him to deepen the kiss. The only thought that came to Kurt's mind in those long minutes when Puck was kissing him was that it was nothing like when he had kissed Brittany and whatever Karofsky had done couldn't even be counted as a kiss when compared to this.

Puck let the kiss end naturally and then pulled away. "Thank you."

Kurt blinked at him in a daze. "For what?"

"Taking care of me," Puck said. "No one has ever done that."

"You're welcome," Kurt said and turned back to the things he'd left on the bed.

There was no more talk of kisses or gratitude while they each took their ibuprophen and Kurt put the "smelly shit" on his own shoulder and Puck's face, careful to avoid his cut and his eyes. And then it was time to sleep, finally. Kurt knew Puck should have the bed, but Puck insisted that he couldn't take it from Kurt, so they had finally compromised and agreed to share the queen sized bed. They both climbed under the blankets and got comfortable.

Kurt shut out the bedside light and lay down. A few seconds later he felt an arm slip around his waist. Rather than pull away, Kurt scooted just a tad closer to Puck. Soon the pair was drifting to sleep spooned together as though they had slept that way a hundred times before.

PKPKPKPKPK

When Kurt woke the next morning, Puck had already gone. There was a note on his vanity from the teen that said he would call him later, but Kurt had to wonder if Puck was regretting that single kiss they had shared. He also wondered how Puck was doing that morning. The bruises to his face had to look pretty bad. Kurt shrugged and climbed from his bed. When he tried to stretch, however, his shoulder protested loudly.

"Fuck, that hurts," Kurt muttered.

"Kurt?" his dad called down the stairs. "You coming to work today?"

Kurt looked at the clock. They should have left by now. "Yeah dad. I overslept. Just give me fifteen minutes?"

"Alright," Burt agreed. "I'll make you a sandwich for breakfast."

"Can you make two?" Kurt asked. He was starving after all the exertion the night before.

Kurt rushed through his shower, skipped his moisturizing routine, and barely ran a comb through his wet hair before pulling on a pair of work jeans and a t-shirt. He grabbed his dad's old jacket and pulled it on.

"That looks good on you," Burt said when he saw Kurt in the jacket. "Your shoulders have gotten broader since you started all this training with Puckerman." He clapped Kurt on the shoulder with pride. Unfortunately it was the one that was bruised and Kurt almost buckled from the sudden pain. "Kurt? What's wrong?"

Kurt winced. "Nothing. Just, I have a bruise on my shoulder from the last time Puck and I sparred. He accidentally clipped me."

Burt frowned. "Maybe you should let up on the sparring."

Kurt climbed into Burt's truck and rolled his eyes. "It's fine dad. It's just a bruise. It will heal in a few days."

It wasn't just a bruise, Kurt realized as he worked that day, it was a fucking painful bruise, and he felt it every time he had to do something with his left arm. But it would heal, so Kurt didn't worry too much about it. He was more worried about Puck. When the other teen hadn't called him by the time Kurt took his break to eat that afternoon, Kurt decided to call him instead.

"Hey Kurt," Puck said sleepily when he answered his phone.

"Oh, did I wake you?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, it's okay, I need to get up anyways," Puck said.

Kurt bit his lip and frowned. "Well, I was just worried about you, Noah. You know Caleb said that you need someone watching out for you."

Puck actually chuckled at that and then grimaced from the pain it caused. "I'm not going to keel over from a couple cracked ribs, I promise. I just thought it would be best if I booked before your dad woke up."

"Alright," Kurt said. "How are you feeling today?"

"Shitty," Puck admitted. "You should see my face, dude. There's no way I can cover this shit up. My Ma had a fit when she saw me, but she'll forget soon enough. I'm more worried about what Coach Beiste will say when she sees me on Monday."

Kurt laughed. "I'm sure she'll give you a hard time. Listen, I've got to get back to work, but your note said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Yeah," Puck said but his voice was hesitant.

"Noah, if this is about that kiss, we can just—"

"We aren't going to forget about it," Puck said, cutting Kurt off completely. "I know you have to work today, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight."

"Out?" Kurt asked. "You mean like…"

"A date, Hummel." Kurt could hear the smirk over the phone. "You know eat out someplace, maybe got to a movie."

"I know what a date is," Kurt pouted. "I just… I didn't think…"

"I didn't think so either," Puck said easily and Kurt could picture his negligent shrug in his mind's eye. "It looks like we were both wrong. So? You interested."

"Yeah," Kurt said with a grin. "Yeah, I'm interested."

"Seven o'clock okay?" Puck asked.

Kurt bit his lip as he quickly calculated in his head. He wouldn't get off work until five, but then he would have to shower, try to scrub the grease from under his fingernails, try to make up for his missed moisturizing routine, fix his hair, pick out clothes…

"Seven's great," Kurt finally said. He'd be rushed, but he figured that Puck had seen him at his worst and wouldn't really care if he wasn't absolutely perfect.

"Great," Puck said and there was a smile in his voice. "I'll pick you up then."

Kurt disconnected the call and smiled sappily at it for a long minute.

"Did I just hear you accepting a date?" Burt asked from the doorway to the office.

Kurt smiled up at his dad. "Yeah. Noah asked me to go to dinner and a movie tonight."

"And he meant it as a date and not just two friends hanging out?" Burt asked for clarification.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Yes, he meant it as a date."

Burt nodded. "Alright, in that case, I'll be there to have a little chat with him when he arrives."

Kurt groaned. "Dad! Don't you dare embarrass me!"

Chapter Text

Burt Hummel met Puck at the door that evening and glared at his son's first date before letting him inside. "You and I need to have words."

Puck nodded and followed Burt Hummel into the living room and took a seat on the sofa. Normally, Puck wouldn't worry too much about some over protective father. First of all, he could probably beat the hell out of most of the fathers he'd met. But Burt was a big mean guy, and Puck was still recovering from his most recent run in with another big mean guy. Second, he didn't usually bother with fathers at all. His attitude was the girl probably wasn't worth that much trouble. But Kurt was different; he knew that the other boy really respected his father and they were pretty tight. So Puck was willing to suck it up and have a chat with Burt Hummel.

"My boy is very important to me," Burt said. "And I would be very, very displeased if he was to be hurt."

"I can assure you I have the best of intentions," Puck said. "I like Kurt a lot, or else I wouldn't even be doing this. I don't usually do the dating sh– crap."

Burt eyed him before nodding slowly. "I was a lot like you when I was young, Puckerman. I thought that I could do anything and have anyone I wanted. I was an arrogant little shit. And then I met Kurt's mom. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. She made me want to be a better person. Kurt's a lot like his mother. He can see past the stuff that other people never would. Don't screw up the chance he's giving you."

"I…" Puck was a little lost for a minute. "Are you saying you're okay with us dating?"

"I'm saying that you should try to be worthy of the chance Kurt's giving you," Burt said. "I know you've changed over the last year. Don't think my boy doesn't talk to me. I know you used to be one of those punks who torment him. I also know that you haven't done that for a while. And I know you've put a lot of time into helping him learn to defend himself and I appreciate that. But you can still be a better person."

Puck nodded. He knew that was true. "Rise to his level instead of taking him down to mine."

"Yeah," Burt agreed. He looked over the injuries to Puck's face. "You look pretty beat up."

Puck rubbed at the swelling around his jaw and face. "Yeah. Just a minor disagreement that got out of hand."

"Noah," Kurt said from the doorway, gaining both men's attention. "Are you ready to go?"

Puck stood up and took in the sight of Kurt. He was wearing black skinny jeans that had white skulls printed along the seams and white Doc Martens that laced up to his knees. He had on a tightly fitted white dress shirt and a tight black vest with silver skulls for buttons. He looked really hot and Puck's only reply was to nod.

"Have fun," Burt told Kurt as he kissed him on the cheek. "And I want you back by midnight."

"Okay," Kurt said with a smile before pulling on his pea coat. He took Puck's arm and let the slightly taller boy lead him out to his truck.

PKPKPKPKPK

Puck drove them to Breadstix and Kurt was a little surprised. He had half expected that Puck would want to hide their relationship, whatever it was. He figured he would find some restaurant out by the highway where none of their friends ever went. But going to Breadstix on a Saturday night was tantamount to announcing that they were dating over the school's loudspeaker. All the students at McKinley would know by morning, and by Monday morning all the staff would know as well.

Kurt just smiled as he let Puck guide him to the door and then followed the hostess to a table. Puck sat across from Kurt in the booth and smiled at him. Kurt just smiled back.

"I'm sorry if my dad was annoying," Kurt said.

Puck shrugged. "He was fine. You're lucky to have a dad that cares about you like he does."

"I know," Kurt said with sincerity. "I don't know what I would do without him."

Puck was quiet for a minute. "My dad ran out on us when my sister was just a baby. Since then it's just been Ma and Sarah and me. But Ma isn't… she works a lot and when she's not working, she's out at the bars a lot. Sarah spends most of the time with my aunt or my Nona."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said and touched Puck's hand that was resting on the table.

Puck turned his hand so that he could twine their fingers together. "It's okay. It is what it is. I just wanted you to know why it means so much to me what you did for me last time and then again last night."

Kurt frowned. "But… You've had girlfriends. I mean ones that were more than just a… booty call."

Puck laughed at Kurt's choice of terms and his obvious discomfort using it. "Yeah, Santana and I dated, but it was always about sex and popularity and… Well, she's hot. But she never cared about me. I cared about Quinn, but she never cared about me. And really, I think I cared about her mostly because she was having my kid. Not a single one of the girls I've been with really cared about anything more than what I could do for them. None of them cared about me."

Kurt shook his head and gave a small dry laugh. "I guess being single and a virgin isn't all that bad."

Puck laughed at that. "Sex is still great even if there's no emotion there, you know."

"Probably," Kurt conceded. "But I'll bet that it's a thousand times better when there are some emotions involved."

"I'm hoping I find out soon," Puck said and squeezed Kurt's hand. Kurt blushed and stammered a bit. "But not before you're ready, okay?"

"Um, yeah, okay," Kurt said.

Luckily, the waitress came then to take their orders and Kurt was able to regroup. When she left, Kurt redirected the conversation. "So you're saving up to get out of Lima, but you never told me where you want to go or what you want to do."

"I bet you'll never guess," Puck said with a smirk. "I'll give you three shots."

Kurt sat back and looked at Puck before nodding. "Okay. First guess: you want to be a rock star."

Puck laughed and held his ribs in pain. "Ouch. Yeah, that would be great, but the likelihood of that actually happening is pretty farfetched. I mean, what do you think, some recording executive is going to see me perform at Nationals and sign me up?"

Kurt chuckled. "Okay, so not very realistic and not the right answer. Alright, second guess: you want to be a wealthy financier."

"Wealthy sounds good," Puck said with a smirk. "But I don't really know what a financier is or does. Something with money?"

"Yeah, something with money," Kurt agreed. He sat and looked at Puck's arrogant smirk for a few seconds before smiling. "Okay, third guess: you want to go to culinary school and become a chef."

Puck's jaw dropped. "Dude! How did you do that?"

Kurt laughed. "Easy. You totally have a man crush on that guy on the Food Network… Guy something or other."

"Guy Fieri," Puck said with a pout. "You totally suck."

"It was either that or become a pastry chef like the guy on Ace of Cakes," Kurt told him.

"He is pretty cool," Puck said. "Have you seen the shit they can do with a bit of cake and fondant?"

"I find it scary that you know what fondant is," Kurt teased. "So, turnabout is fair play. You can have three guesses to figure out what I want to do."

"Alright," Puck agreed eagerly. The waitress came with their drinks and a basket of the awful breadsticks that no one really liked. When she left Puck was ready with his first guess. "First guess: a Broadway star."

Kurt smiled. "That's about as realistic as your rock star dream. Unless some wealthy guy wants to pay my way into a show in return for dressing up in kinky outfits, I doubt it will ever happen. But it's fun to dream."

"Well, you could dress up in the kinky outfits for me," Puck teased and Kurt threw half of a breadstick at him. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Okay, second guess: you want to be a fashion designer."

Kurt smiled but shook his head. "I love fashion but I'm just not that creative."

"I doubt that's true," Puck said. "I mean, look at the way you dress. That's creative."

"I can arrange other people's creations, but making them myself?" Kurt shook his head. "The answer is no."

Puck nodded and pursed his lips as he thought about his final guess. "You want to take over your dad's garage when he retires?"

Kurt grinned. "You were so close with that one, but no."

"Something with cars though, right?" Puck asked.

"Yeah, I want to restore old cars," Kurt said. "There's just something amazing about taking something that used to be great but is totally scrap metal now and making it great again. Sometimes even better than it was when it was new."

"If you do that, you're going to blow the minds of a lot of people who have very limited views of what a gay boy can do and be," Puck warned mischievously.

"That's just a bonus," Kurt retorted. "Besides, how many of those same narrow-minded people would believe you want to be a chef?"

"More than might have before I went out on a date with a boy," Puck said wryly.

"Right," Kurt said. "Are you sure you don't want to… I don't know… keep this to ourselves until we're sure that it's going to work? I mean we could just say that we're friends and that—"

"We aren't hiding," Puck said firmly. "We may not know if we're going to last forever yet, but that doesn't change the fact that I care about you, and I have for a while and I think you care about me too. And I'm okay with this, so you should be too, okay? We badasses do not hide in closets. Unless it's a janitor's closet and we're getting a blowjob."

Kurt laughed again. "Of course. I apologize for calling your innate badassness into question."

"Damn straight," Puck said and then frowned. "Or not straight. Damn bent?"

Kurt was laughing so hard he almost slid off the booth seat when the waitress came back with their dinners.

PKPKPKPKPK

The movie was over-produced and loud with not much of a plot, but that made it easier to follow when they took the rare break from making out in the back row of the theater. Afterward, they walked hand in hand back to Puck's truck. A car full of ignorant oafs yelled a few derogatory comments as they passed, but they didn't stop and Kurt was able to take Puck's mind off the bigots with a few well timed kisses against the side of his truck.

They made it to the curb in front of Kurt's house with fifteen minutes to spare, so they spent ten of those fifteen minutes fogging up the windows in Puck's pickup. After so much kissing and petting, it wasn't surprising that both boys were achingly hard. But they both knew that Burt would be waiting for Kurt by the door so they finally pulled apart.

"Park the truck around the corner and I'll text you when it's safe for you to come through the window," said desperately.

Puck closed his eyes and swallowed back his instinct to agree to anything as long as he got off. "Can't babe."

"Why not?" Kurt pouted.

"For a couple reasons," Puck said. "First of all, my ribs won't let me do that much climbing."

"Oh, I forgot," Kurt said apologetically.

Puck kissed the frown from Kurt's face. "And second, I… Your dad, I want him to like me and trust me. I want him to approve, because I know how important he is to you. So… we'll take this stuff slow and not let our hormones take over. When I know you're ready and I'm ready, and your dad is a little more prepared for the inevitability of you having sex, we'll move on to the next step. Okay?"

Kurt took a deep and frustrated breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah. And I'm grateful, I really am, but right now, I just want to come so bad that I can't really think about my dad or logic or anything."

Puck leaned his forehead against Kurt's and chuckled. "I know. I'm not sure I'll be able to make it home to jerk off."

"Kiss me and then walk me to the door before my dad comes out here," Kurt sighed.

So Puck let his lips find Kurt's once again. A minute later, he pulled away and opened his door before going to meet Kurt on the other side of the truck. (He had already been scolded for trying to open Kurt's door like he was a girl once that evening.) They walked hand in hand up to the porch and Puck smiled at Kurt.

"What are you doing for Halloween tomorrow?" Puck asked. "I promised Sarah that I'd take her trick-or-treating, but you could come with us and then we could watch horror movies."

Kurt frowned. "I can't. I already promised Mercedes I'd hang out with her. I've sort of been neglecting her for the last couple months with all the time we've spent training and the time I spend working."

"That's alright," Puck sighed. "We'll see each other Monday. Same time for the weight room?"

"Yeah," Kurt said. "And you could call me tomorrow."

"I was planning on it," Puck said and he leaned forward to kiss Kurt one last time. They had just broken apart to say goodnight when the front door swung open.

"Goodnight Puckerman," Burt said coolly.

Puck smiled at the man, not at all put off. "Goodnight Mr. Hummel. Goodnight Kurt."

"Goodnight Noah," Kurt said with a matching grin.

If Puck's ribs didn't hurt so damn bad he might have danced down the walkway back to his truck.

Chapter Text

Kurt received no less than three calls and five texts from Puck before he ever left his house the next day. Apparently Sarah was having a costume emergency and only Kurt could solve the problem. Since Sarah wanted to be Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, Kurt figured he probably was as close to an expert as Puck knew. After talking Puck down from committing murder/suicide, and then talking to Sarah until she stopped crying, he finally got to the heart of the problem. Sarah had her dress and shoes, but Noah had no idea how to braid the poor girl's hair, nor did he have a basket for Sarah to carry her stuffed dog which was playing Toto.

Kurt texted Mercedes and told her he was going to be about a half hour late and that he would explain when he got there. They were just going to hang out watching cheesy witch-themed movies and pass out candy. He could be a few minutes late for that. So Kurt found a basket that would work and headed over to Puck's house.

"Are you Kurt?" A wary little girl of about eight asked when she answered the door.

"I am," Kurt said. "And you must be Sarah."

She smiled. "Can you really braid my hair? Because Noah said that boys don't braid hair and that's why he doesn't know how."

"Well, most boys don't know how to braid hair," Kurt told her. "But there are a few of us who are just that fabulous."

Sarah led Kurt into the living room where she had her brush and hair bands as well as two lengths of blue ribbon to match her blue gingham dress. She was actually very cute. She even had sparkly red ballet slippers.

Kurt sat on the sofa and had Sarah kneel on the floor and then he began the task of taming her wild curls into two French braids. By the time he finished, Sarah was telling him secrets like they were long lost friends. Kurt knew about the boy in her class that like to torment Sarah and that she had failed her last spelling test on purpose so that she wouldn't have to be in the spelling bee because she was afraid of being up in front of a crowd of people. Somewhere along the way, Puck had entered the room and Kurt had lifted his face to accept the kiss Puck offered before going back to work.

When he was finished, Sarah rushed off to check her reflection in a mirror and Puck sat beside Kurt on the sofa and kissed him properly. "Sure you can't reschedule?"

Kurt was sorely tempted, but knew he couldn't do that to Mercedes. "Positive." But that didn't mean he couldn't be just a couple minutes later.

They were just really getting into it when Sarah returned. "Ew, that's gross."

Puck pulled away but buried his head in Kurt's neck and whispered, "Cock blocked by my baby sister."

Kurt laughed at both siblings. "What's so gross, Sarah?"

"Kissing a boy?" Sarah said. "I thought you were smarter than that Kurt. You can do hair and everything, but you like kissing my smelly brother." She wrinkled her nose.

Both Puck and Kurt laughed that time. "Just count yourself lucky that your smelly brother is taking you begging for candy," Puck said.

"And I promise that you'll change your mind about kissing boys someday," Kurt said. "Probably sooner than Noah would like, actually."

"Please don't say things like that," Puck begged. "I'm not ready for her to like boys."

Kurt and Sarah both giggled at his denial. "Well I have to get going."

"Thank you so much for your help," Sarah said and hugged Kurt tightly around the waist.

Puck walked Kurt to the door and said, "You've just made an annoying little friend for life."

"She's sweet," Kurt said honestly.

"You're sweet," Puck said. He gave Kurt a kiss and then pushed him towards the door. "Now get out of here before I change my mind and chain you to my bed."

PKPKPKPKPK

"Alright white boy, there are some seriously weird rumors going around about you and Puck," Mercedes said as soon as Kurt entered her house. He hadn't even gotten his coat off.

"Good to see you too," Kurt said dryly.

"Yeah, yeah," Mercedes waved away his complaint. "Spill."

Kurt took off his coat and took his time settling down on the sofa in her living room before turning to face her scowling face. "Alright, yes, the rumors are true. Or rather I presume they're true. What exactly are these rumors?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes at Kurt. "Well, first of all, people are saying that the two of you were spotted at Breadstix last night and that you held hands both at the table and on the way out of the restaurant. And then there are the stories about how you were having sex in the movie theater while watching that new kid's movie."

Kurt's brows rose at that, "Well, the restaurant is completely true. The stuff at the movies got lost in translation I think. We made out, we did not have sex, and we saw the action thriller, not the kid's movie. That would just be tacky, making out in a kid's movie."

"And making out in an action thriller isn't tacky?" Mercedes asked and then shook her head. "Never mind that. Puck?"

Kurt heard all the unvoiced questions that went into that single word. Questions like: how did that happen; why didn't you tell me; and what the hell are you thinking?

"He's been teaching me to defend myself," Kurt told her. "That's a big part of the reason I haven't been around much lately; that and work. Anyway, we've been spending all this time together and then… well, he kissed me. And I thought that he was just being grateful because I had done something nice for him, but then he asked me out on a date and he even sat through my dad's harassment… And I think he really likes me."

Mercedes laughed at Kurt's rambling. "That was a lot of words but not a lot of details."

"There's a lot of stuff that isn't mine to tell you," Kurt said. "I mean, it's Noah's private business and I won't betray his trust."

"He lets you call him Noah?" Mercedes asked.

Kurt nodded. "He says he likes that I do. You really wouldn't believe how much we have in common and how we just connect."

"I believe it," Mercedes said. "Puck can be very… charming when he wants to be. I just don't want you to get hurt."

Kurt knew she was thinking about when Puck had used her for her social status. She had known what he was doing, but that didn't change the fact that it had to hurt at least a little.

"I asked him to sneak into my room after he dropped me off last night," Kurt said, "because I really wanted to keep doing what we were doing, and probably a lot more. You know what he said?" Mercedes shook her head. "He told me he doesn't want to break my father's trust like that because he knows how important my dad is to me. He said that we should take our time and not let our hormones make any decisions for us. He said we should wait until we're both ready and my father is a little more receptive to the fact that I am not a eunuch—my words, not his."

Mercedes laughed but then she grinned at her best friend. "I guess he must be serious."

"Yeah," Kurt said with a sappy smile.

PKPKPKPKPK

The news of their relationship hit the school at the speed of sound and soon everyone knew that they had gone on a date over the weekend. They didn't know much more than that, since neither Kurt nor Puck seemed to want to flaunt their relationship in the halls. The response to the two boys being together was surprisingly mixed. Most people just didn't care, but there were a few who were very happy for them (the glee club) and a few who were not at all happy with them (some of the jocks). Again, Kurt's schedule kept him from the worst of the bullying, but Kurt got a text message just before he went to bed Thursday night. Can't meet 2 workout. Sarah's sick. Taking to Nona's. C U at school.

Kurt hoped that the little girl would be alright, but he would miss his time with Puck in the morning; he had gotten used to the time they spent alone together every morning. Well, at least he'd see Puck at school, anyway. With that in mind, Kurt turned out his light and fell asleep with Puck's face still in his mind and dreams of Puck just waiting to be released into his subconscious.

PKPKPKPKPK

Kurt pulled into the school parking lot Friday morning with a little more trepidation than he would normally. This was the first time in two months that he hadn't arrived at school long before the jocks were out prowling for victims. Despite his training with Puck, if a pack of jocks cornered him, he'd be screwed. And Kurt wasn't as confident that Karofsky wouldn't seek revenge as Puck seemed to be. He could have Azimio and his other pals on the hunt for him.

Deciding that hiding in fear was a waste of time and energy, Kurt took a deep breath, gathered his bag and locked up his baby. He hadn't made it half way to the front door when the pack surrounded him. Looking around and meeting their eyes, Kurt could see that Karofsky wasn't there again, but Azimio, Sattler, Robinson and Marconi were encircling him, looking very menacing.

"You've been avoiding us, fag," Azimio said. "What'sa matter? You scared to face us?"

"Not particularly," Kurt lied coolly. "I've just had other obligations."

"Yeah, sucking Puckerman's cock," Sattler sneered.

Kurt raised a haughty brow and replied, "Not yet, but I'm sure I will eventually." There was a chorus of disgusted mutterings and swears. "Now, who is going to go first?"

"First?" Azimio asked with angry confusion.

"Yes, first," Kurt said snootily. "Surely it doesn't take all of you to beat up the queer kid? Surely, you are man enough to do that alone? Then again, I guess I can see why you would want to gang up. I mean, what if you lost to the fag? What would that do to your 'juice'?"

"Are you calling me chicken?" Azimio growled. "Cause I ain't no coward."

Kurt shrugged. "Then call off your dogs and fight me like a man."

Azimio looked Kurt up and down and snarled. There were already about a dozen kids gathering around to watch the fight that was brewing and he knew he couldn't back down or use the other jocks without losing his rep, so Azimio nodded to the other jocks. "Leave the fag to me."

Kurt studied his fingernails and noted that he could really do with a manicure. It was an outward display of insouciance, even if he was trembling inside with fear. Yes, he had dealt with Karofsky. Yes he had beaten sweaty Carl. But Azimio was tougher than either of those guys. And even if he did beat him, there was nothing stopping the other three from jumping him. Kurt knew that playing it cool would piss off Azimio more than yelling, and getting Azimio angry would make him even stupider than usual.

"Well?" Azimio shouted after a few minutes of silence. "Come on, fag!"

Kurt looked up at him with surprise. "Oh, were you waiting for me? I thought you were just doing some useless posturing so that you could prove just how heterosexual you really are. Well, if you're ready, let's have you best shot."

Azimio growled, reminding Kurt of Jimbo for a brief moment, as he stomped up to Kurt. He didn't even try to hide his intent to deck Kurt. He raised his fist, but before he could throw his punch, Kurt had him by the wrist and was using the larger boy's momentum against him as he twisted his arm and swept his feet out from under him with his leg at the same time. Azimio ended up face first on the pavement with his arm twisted in a very painful way as Kurt stood with a foot planted in the middle of his back.

"Are we done here? Or have you not embarrassed yourself enough yet?" Kurt asked snidely.

"Fuck you, Hummel," Azimio snarled, but the effect was ruined when Kurt twisted his arm a little more and put painful pressure on the elbow. The big tough homophobic jock let out a very undignified whimper.

"What was that?" Kurt asked. The other jocks looked at each other with some confusion. Kurt could see that they wanted to step in and help their friend. "Come any closer and I will snap his arm and he'll be on the injured list for the rest of the year, if not for the rest of his life."

Kurt put more pressure on Azimio's back, enough to make breathing difficult, but not enough to actually make him pass out. He twisted his arm again. "Tell your buddies to scram Azimio."

"You're fucking dead, Hummel," Azimio said, but his voice shook with the attempt hide his pain.

Kurt stomped on his spine just above his solar plexus and gave a satisfied smirk when he heard the jock lose his breath. "What was that?"

Azimio panted as gasped for a moment before he said, "Go on. Leave."

"Dude…" Sattler looked torn.

"Go!" Azimio shouted as loud as he could without being able to take a full breath.

The other jocks reluctantly left the crowd of students. There were now more than fifty people standing around them, witnessing Azimio's disgrace.

"I'm going to let you go now," Kurt said softly as he bent low over Azimio. "But I want you to remember this feeling. This is the feeling that I have lived with for years. And if you think you feel some need for revenge, just think how much more I'd like to get revenge on you. I'm letting you go because this needs to stop. You leave me alone and I won't fuck you up. And if this display isn't enough proof that I can, ask Karofsky how he really got that black eye."

Kurt didn't feel too bad about setting one jock against the other. He hadn't said anything about the kiss and he wasn't about to. But Karofsky deserved to suffer a little more for the shit he had pulled.

With one last press of his boot to the other boy's back, Kurt let him go. He was unhurried in his motions as he walked to pick up his bag, though he kept a wary eye on Azimio. The larger boy hadn't tried to get up, though, so Kurt walked to the school to the sounds of whispers and nervous titters.

Kurt didn't breathe again until he reached the relative safety of the school.

Chapter Text

"I heard about your little run in with Azimio," Puck said as he slung an arm around Kurt's shoulder as they walked through the hall between first and second period.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that everyone has heard about it by now."

Puck pulled Kurt to the side of the hall and looked at his seriously. "Are you okay?"

"I was a little shaken up right after it happened," Kurt admitted. "But… I'm proud of myself. I mean, I talked them into a fair fight and then kicked ass. Whether or not they let things stay fair…" He shrugged.

"They will," Puck said. "They will because they are more afraid of me than they are of anything else."

Kurt frowned. "They're that scared of you? Why?"

"Because you aren't the only person who has tried to join the fight club," Puck said. "You're just the only one besides me who has actually succeeded. Azimio, Karofsky, Sattler… most of the jocks have at one time or another tried to fight. They all got their asses handed to them. They may be big and strong, but they're also slow and dumb. A good fighter has to be quick on his feet and quick in his head."

"So they all know that you fight?" Kurt asked. "What about Finn?"

"He knows," Puck said. "I think all the football players know—maybe not Sam."

Kurt was quiet for a minute. "So they know about you, but… do they ever follow the fights?"

Puck finally got what Kurt was afraid of. "Shit, babe. I… yeah, they probably do. If they don't know about you now, they will if you ever fight again."

Kurt sighed and nodded. "I don't know whether that would be a good thing or a bad thing. I mean, I'm betting that the reputation would do wonders for keeping the Neanderthals from tormenting me. On the other, if Finn finds out, it's inevitable that he'll blab to my dad, intentionally or not. For that matter, there's nothing to say that my dad doesn't bet on the fights himself."

"Babe, if he finds out, I'm a dead man," Puck said. "I mean… seriously a dead man. He won't give me a chance to defend myself. He'll just kill me in my sleep."

"He won't kill you," Kurt huffed. "He won't be happy, but he won't kill you."

"You don't know that," Puck said. "Have you ever had a boyfriend take you to a fight club before? No? So you don't know how he'll react."

Kurt actually laughed and leaned up to kiss Puck's cheek. "I'll protect you from the big bad Papa Bear."

Puck fought to hold back a grin and keep his pout in place. "You better."

They started walking down the hall again towards their shared history class. "So is that why no one has really said anything to us about dating? Well, Sattler did this morning but he's really the only one."

Puck frowned. "What did Sattler say?"

Kurt thought about it. "Well, Azimio said I had been avoiding them and I said that I'd had other obligations. And Sattler said 'What? Sucking Puckerman's cock?'" Kurt gave Puck a sly look. "I told him not yet, but probably soon."

Puck groaned. "Damn Babe, you can't say things like that when we have to sit though a boring ass class together. My mind's going to be totally filled with dirty pictures the whole time."

Kurt smirked. "I know." And then he walked through the class door and left Puck gaping at his back.

PKPKPKPKPK

Kurt learned from Meg that even though the fight nights were only held one per month, they weren't always a month apart. For instance the first night Kurt had attended had been at the very beginning of September and the second was at the end of October. Now, the third fight night was scheduled for the 12th of November, just two weeks after his fight with Carl.

"Caleb needs to know if you're going to put your name in this month," Meg asked Kurt over the phone the Saturday before. Kurt was taking his lunch break at the garage while he talked to her.

"Caleb is hosting?" Kurt asked. "I thought he was a doctor, not a farmer."

"He is," Meg laughed. "But he has a pretty big piece of land not far from us. He hosts twice a year just like the rest of us."

"I don't know if I should fight," Kurt told the woman. "If my dad catches wind of this, I'm not sure how he would react."

"Your dad's Burt Hummel, isn't he?" Meg asked.

Kurt hesitated before answering. "Yes. Why?"

Meg let out a long laugh. "Because Jack and I have known your dad since he was younger than you, and I can tell you some stories. He was more of a hell raiser in his day than even Puck. He used to be a regular fighter. He was never quite as good as Puck is, but he was pretty good."

"My dad used to fight?" Kurt asked. "I knew he had a bit of a wild history before he and my mom got together, but… I never imagined he went to fight club, let alone actually fought."

"Yes we, he did," Meg told Kurt. "And you Momma, god rest her soul, wasn't quite the saint your daddy likes to make out."

"What?" Kurt was shocked. No one had ever said anything about Elizabeth Hummel that wasn't completely angelic.

"Don't get me wrong," Meg said. "Lizzie was a great lady, but there was a reason that she ended up with a bad boy like your daddy. Did he ever tell you how they got together?"

"No, but my mom used to tell me a story when I was little," Kurt said. "She said that she fell in love with dad because he was like a knight rescuing the damsel in distress."

Meg chuckled. "That sounds like Lizzie, alright. They got together at fight club. I think your dad had a bit of a crush on Lizzie for a while, but never stepped up. And to be honest, I doubt she would have gone for him before that night even if he had asked. She could be a bit picky when it came to boys. Well, that particular night was the first time Lizzie had been to the fights. And the boy who brought her was being a bit of an ass. He got drunk and started groping her right there by the bonfire.

"Now your daddy wasn't having any of that," Meg continued. "He'd already had his fight for the night and he was tired and sore, but he wasn't going to let that boy treat Lizzie that way. So he went up and called the boy out for his actions. We had ourselves an unscheduled bout that night and bets were flying as fast as the punches, but when the dust settled, Burt had won the fight and your momma's heart."

"So my mom and dad both went to fight nights," Kurt said.

"Your mom came regular to watch your dad fight," Meg said. "Then he got paired up with some behemoth from Findlay and didn't come out of it too good. That was the last time she came and he only fought one more time without her. I think he thought she was bluffing about him giving it up."

"So he gave it all up for her?" Kurt asked.

"Not just the fighting, either," Meg said. "Burt Hummel started getting better grades and he worked hard at school for the first time in his life. And when we all graduated, your dad asked your momma to marry him right there at the football stadium, caps still flying through the air."

Kurt huffed a laugh. "So he straightened up for my mom. And he never fought again?"

Meg hesitated. "There were a few fights after your momma died. He'd get a babysitter to stay with you. I don't think you ever even knew he left, since the fights were so late even then. He had a lot of anger and grief to work through and I think the fights helped him some. In the end, he stopped coming because he said you needed him whole and healthy."

"Wow," Kurt whispered. "I…"

"Yeah," Meg said quietly and then cleared her throat. "I'm not saying that your daddy would be happy to know you were fighting, but I think if he found out, if you told him, he might just understand why you want to do it."

Kurt was silent for a few seconds before he came to a decision. "Meg, tell Caleb I'll have an answer for him tomorrow? I want to talk to my dad first."

Kurt could hear the smile in Meg's voice when she said, "Tell him I said hello, and that the old gang misses him."

"I will."

PKPKPKPKPK

Kurt texted Puck later that afternoon as he leaned against the car he was fixing. I'm going to tell my dad about the fights.

Within thirty seconds, Kurt's phone was ringing. "Dude, you can't do that. He's gonna kill me."

Kurt frowned. "Don't call me dude. And he's not going to kill you. Trust me. He may ground me for the rest of my life, but he's not going to kill you."

"If you think he's going to ground you, why the fuck would you tell him?" Puck wondered.

Kurt hesitated. "Because I think it's better for him to find out from me than to have one of the guys at the shop tell him. And I think he might understand why I want to fight again."

It was Puck's turn to be silent for a minute. "He used to fight, didn't he?"

"That's what Meg said. She also said he stopped for my mom." Kurt said quietly. "And then he fought for a while again after she died."

Puck let out a dry laugh. "Dude wasn't kidding when he told me he used to be like me."

"He said that?" Kurt asked. "What else did he say?"

"That I should try to be worthy of the chance you were giving me," Puck admitted quietly.

"Oh Noah," Kurt sighed. "You already are worthy of a hundred second chances. You are a much better person than you give yourself credit for being."

"Maybe," Puck said, not quite believing it, but glad that Kurt had said it anyway. "Maybe we should both just quit."

"We probably should," Kurt said. "But I don't want to yet. I'm just starting to figure some stuff out and I don't want to stop right now. Then again, I also don't want to see you fight any more guys like Jimbo."

"I'm sticking to local boys for a while," Puck promised. "The payout might not be as good, but the pain isn't as bad."

"Good," Kurt said. "I'm going to tell him this afternoon. He's going to be out with Carole all day tomorrow. He's got something big planned, I can tell. So this is my last chance to tell him before I give Caleb my answer about Friday."

"If he grounds you, I won't get to see you tonight," Puck pouted. "What about our date?"

"Well, hopefully he won't ground me," Kurt said with a false optimism that they both saw through.

"Call me after you talk to him," Puck said. "And good luck."

"Thanks, sweetie," Kurt said before disconnecting the call.

"Hopefully I won't ground you for what?" Burt asked. He had just come out of the office in time to hear the end of Kurt's conversation with Puck.

Kurt sighed. "Maybe we should go into the office for this."

Burt nodded and gestured for Kurt to precede him into the office and then closed the door behind them. He took a seat behind the desk and Kurt hopped up on the counter. "So what's this about?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "Can you promise to let me tell the whole thing before you make any judgments or start yelling?"

Burt nodded warily. "I suppose."

"Okay, thanks," Kurt said. "A couple months ago, at the beginning of September, I was having trouble sleeping one Friday night, so I climbed out the window and went for a walk." Burt started to say something but Kurt gave him a pleading look and Burt sat back and gestured for Kurt to go on. "I walked up to the reservoir and followed the ridge to the north side and then walked along the road up there for a while until I came across a group of people around a bonfire on one of the farms up there."

Burt's face looked like he knew where this was headed, but he let Kurt tell his tale. "I was met by two very nice people, Jack and Meg—Meg says hello by the way and wants you to know that the old gang misses you—and they invited me to stay to watch the last fight of the night."

"Let me guess," Burt said wryly. "Puckerman?"

Kurt nodded. "You knew he was fighting?"

"I may not go to the fights, but that doesn't mean I don't hear things from time to time," Burt agreed. "That kid has a reputation for winning."

Kurt smiled. "Yeah, he does. Anyway, Puck fought this guy from Columbus that night and he was a little banged up. He offered me a ride home, and when we got here, I offered to help him clean up a little and put some ointment on his bruises. While he was here, he saw that I had some bruises on my torso, front and back."

Burt growled. "You said it hadn't gotten that bad."

"I lied," Kurt shrugged. "Dad, you can't run in and solve all my problems. I need to stand up for myself."

Burt closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before nodding. "I'm guessing that's why he started helping you train."

"Yes," Kurt said. "And I'm good dad. I've defended myself from two of the worst bullies at school already and none of the others seem to want to risk getting beaten up by the gay kid." He said this with a smirk. "Then, last week, there was another fight night."

"That's why Puckerman's face looked like a squashed tomato," Burt said.

"Yeah," Kurt said ruefully. "They brought in some guy from Indianapolis and he was a freak giant. And mean. But Puck beat him." There was pride in his voice when he said this. "That's not really what's important though. I went with him and there was a fighter who dropped out."

Burt closed his eyes again. "You didn't."

"I did," Kurt said. "And I won too."

"Your shoulder?" Burt asked.

"The only time the guy hit me," Kurt said. "And it really wasn't that bad. I've had a lot worse from the guys at school before Puck taught me to fight."

Burt took a deep breath. He took off his cap and scratched the back of his head before replacing the cap. "Why are you telling me all this now?"

"Because I want to fight again this week," Kurt said. "I… I like the way it makes me feel: like I'm strong and capable of taking care of myself… and normal. But I know that there's no way in hell that that it wouldn't get back to you eventually and I really don't want to lie to you."

Burt stood up and paced the length of the room for a few minutes before turning to face Kurt. "I have two conditions."

Kurt smiled, knowing he had won this battle already. "Okay."

"One, if you fight, I want to be there," Burt said. "I want to see what the hell is going on. And two, I want the option to pull you out if I think you're in over your head."

Kurt mulled it over. "You won't just pull me because a guy looks at me sideways, will you?"

Burt snorted. "I might be tempted, but no. Only if I really think you're endangering yourself."

Kurt hopped from the counter and gave Burt a big hug. "Thanks dad."

"I love you kiddo," Burt said, still holding on tight to his baby boy.

"I love you too," Kurt said and finally pulled away. "I have a couple calls to make."

"Not yet," Burt said. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about and now's as good a time as any."

Chapter Text

"I can't believe that your dad is actually letting you fight," Puck said that evening. They had decided to skip the movies and go out to a lake that Puck knew of near Norm's farm where they had a little privacy.

"Believe it," Kurt said with a happy smile. "He just wants to be there when I fight and he wants the final say in calling off a match. And before you ask, I made him promise not to be unreasonable with that."

Puck snorted. "Well, we'll see how that goes. But at least he didn't ground you."

"I think he wants to bring Finn this Friday," Kurt said.

Puck laughed outright. "Finn will be more than a little freaked if he sees you fight."

"Probably," Kurt said. "Get this: my dad's asking Carole to marry him tomorrow. If she says yes, Finn's going to be my stepbrother. How weird is that?"

"A little weird since you totally set them up because you wanted in Finn's pants," Puck teased.

Kurt groaned. "Don't remind me. What was I thinking?"

"That he's cute in a doofus sorta way," Puck said. "And you could have led him around by the balls, just like Rachel does and Quinn used to do."

"And I suppose I could never lead you around by the balls?" Kurt asked primly.

"Not a chance," Puck smirked. "I'm too badass."

"Of course you are," Kurt agreed. A little too readily.

"Whatever you've got in that pretty head of yours, you can forget about it right now," Puck said.

"I was just thinking that if my dad and Carole get married, I'll really need a date for the wedding," Kurt said coyly. "And I was thinking that my date should really be able to waltz with me when we dance."

"Kurt…" Puck whined in a very un-badass manner.

Kurt kissed Puck's lips softly and didn't pull away before saying. "I'll make it worth your while."

Puck's ears—and other body parts—perked up. "Oh yeah? How?"

Kurt leaned over to whisper in Puck's ear. When he sat back up, Puck had a dazed look I his eyes and nodded very quickly and insistently. "Yes, please. Now?"

"After the wedding," Kurt said.

Another whine.

"But I suppose we could do some other stuff now," Kurt conceded graciously.

As Puck attacked Kurt's mouth and neck, Kurt smirked to himself. Yeah, he could lead Puck around by the balls. Then again, Puck could lead him around by the heart, if he ever figured out how.

PKPKPKPKPK

"She said yes," Burt told Kurt happily on Sunday afternoon. "We're getting married!"

Kurt hugged his dad. "I'm so happy for you!"

Burt hugged Kurt back and kissed his temple. "We're going to have to make some changes."

"I know," Kurt said as he stepped away and smiled at Burt. "So, are we moving or are we putting on that addition you talked about last time?"

Burt walked into the kitchen to grab a beer and Kurt followed him. They sat at the table Burt looked at Kurt for a long time. "I've talked it over with Carole and we really think we should look for a new house. If we added on to this place, it would never really be Carole's place too."

Kurt could hear what his dad wasn't saying: this would always be his mom's house. Kurt swallowed back a few tears but nodded. "You both deserve a brand new start."

Burt grabbed Kurt's hand and squeezed. "Thank you." He cleared his throat and sat back. "There's also a completely practical reason. If we buy a place, it won't take as long as adding on, and we really don't want to wait for another six months to get married and live together."

"Okay," Kurt said and took a cleansing breath. "How soon are we talking about?"

"Carole would like a Christmas wedding," Burt said.

"Wow," Kurt said. "That doesn't give us long to plan everything, let alone find a house and move."

Burt nodded and took a swig of his beer. "We've kind of been looking for a little while now and I think we might have found a place. We wanted to take you and Finn to see it before we put in an offer, though."

"Is that why you came back early?" Kurt asked.

Burt nodded. "Carole's talking to Finn now, and if everything goes well, we'll go pick them up in a little bit and check out the house together."

"Okay," Kurt agreed. "I'll just go change and…" He let his thought drift away as he headed for the basement. He didn't really need to change, but he did need a few minutes to regroup and come to terms with everything. He was happy for his dad, he really was, but wasn't sure if he was really ready to give up all the ties to his mom that were in this house. His only memories of her were here. Her dresser was still here and he knew that it wouldn't make it to the new house.

Kurt thought back to that spring when he had talked, and sang, Finn through this very situation. He'd told him that a chair wasn't like having a real living person to love. Well, the same applied to a dresser and a house. They were just things. They couldn't hug him or dry his tears. They couldn't love him. But Carole could.

For the first time, Kurt thought about what it would be like to have someone to mother him. He'd been jealous of Finn's relationship with his dad, but he'd never made an effort to develop a relationship with Carole. He thought now that maybe he had missed out on something.

Kurt went up to his dad's room and lay on the floor beside his mother's dresser. He opened the drawers, but the scent that he associated with his mom had faded over the years just like his memories.

PKPKPKPKPK

The house was perfect. It was a newer construction not far from their current neighborhood. The front door opened up into a great room that was complete with a professional grade kitchen. A hallway opened up to the right of the dining area leading to the private rooms. There was a door to what looked to be a small den with built in bookshelves. Next on that side of the hall were a set of stairs. They skipped those at first to finish the tour of the first floor. There were three bedrooms on that level. One was about the same size as the den, but had a decent sized closet. The other two bedrooms were larger, but one had a walk in closet, a dressing area and an en suite bathroom with a shower/tub combo. There was another three quarters bathroom, with a very large walk in shower, right next to the other large bedroom.

"We thought you might like the bedroom with the en suite," Carole told Kurt.

Kurt looked surprised. "But I thought this was the master?"

"The house actually has two suites," Burt told his son. "Carole and I will take the upstairs."

Kurt looked to Finn and the other boy shrugged. "Dude, I don't' really care. Anything is better than my closet-sized room with the cowboy wallpaper."

"Then, yes!" Kurt chirped happily.

They all went upstairs to check out the master suite. There was a sitting room right at the top of the stairs, and the bedroom and bath were huge. The suite took up the entire space above the three bedrooms and den below. The great room had vaulted ceilings. There was another set of stairs that led to the basement. It was only under the bedrooms, but it had two areas, a finished family room and a storage room. The laundry room was off the kitchen, by the door to the garage.

"It's really great," Kurt told them and then turned to Carole. "I think it would be perfect. We can send the boys to the basement for their sports marathons and keep the room up here for more civilized pursuits."

Carole laughed. "Sounds like a plan."

"Does that mean we can turn the basement into a man cave?" Finn asked eagerly. Burt seemed rather interested in the answer to that as well.

Kurt and Carole exchanged a look. "Sure, why not?"

"So we're all agreed?" Burt asked. "This is the house we want?"

"Yes!" was the resounding answer from the other three.

PKPKPKPKPK

Monday at school was strange. Kurt was used to people looking at him as he walked through the halls. He was used to people staring at his clothes or his hair or the way he walked which had been deemed effeminate by more than one homophobic jerk over the years. He was used to being dumped in dumpsters and having slushies thrown in his face randomly. He was used to whispers and glares and general avoidance. What he was not used to was the awe that seemed to be on the faces of most of the people he passed or the grudging respect that was being given by the others.

"What is going on?" Kurt demanded in hushed tones when he reached Mercedes' locker.

"You did it this time," Mercedes told him with a smile. "You have succeeded in doing what every geek, loser and nerd at this school has always dreamed of but never thought could actually happen."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asked with bewilderment.

"Between the fight with Azimio and the news that you've not only fought in the Lima Fight Club but won, you have elevated yourself from the bottom of the food chain to the top," Mercedes said. "Be prepared for the majority of the school to be watching and waiting for the results of your next fight. And I wouldn't be surprised to see a bunch of new faces at the fights."

"You have got to be kidding," Kurt said.

Mercedes shrugged. "Where do you think Puck gets his 'juice'? People may not talk about it, but everyone knows about the fight club, and everyone knows that Puck is the king."

Kurt thought about that. He had heard whispers about the club before he stumbled across it, but it had always seemed more like an urban legend than anything real. But if what Mercedes said was true, then there was a lot more riding on his fight this weekend than just a few bucks and his pride. If he made a good show, he could cement his place on the social ladder without having to fight every bully in school to do it.

"I'm never going to be as good as Puck," Kurt murmured to her.

Mercedes shrugged as she shut her locker. "You don't really have to be. You just have to be better than the jerks around here. And since none of them have been able to actually win a fight…"

"Carl wasn't that hard to beat," Kurt told her as they walked down the hall towards their trigonometry class.

"Well, according to Finn, both Azimio and Sattler went up against that Carl guy in their first fights and got beat down but good," Mercedes told him. "Then again, since you beat Azimio, that's not surprising."

Kurt shook his head. "This is all just so weird."

PKPKPKPKKP

Puck sat next to Kurt at lunch and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You realize that they have totally turned you into some underdog hero or something. Most of the school is rooting for you to win this Friday. Then again, according to Jack, most of them are betting against you."

"I thought Caleb was bookie this month," Kurt said.

"He is," Puck shrugged. "But Jack's sort of the unofficial organizer. He helps all the others when they need it. Apparently there have been a record number of bets placed on your fight."

Kurt shook his head. "I don't understand why they would root for me to win but bet against me?"

"Because they want you to win, but they don't expect it," Puck said easily as he stole a French fry from Kurt's tray. "Well, look on the bright side; they're running up the odds and with that much on the line, you'll make a killing when you beat Landon."

Kurt sighed. "Tell me about Landon."

Puck hesitated. "Well, he's… not like Carl. At all."

"What do you not want to tell me?" Kurt asked with a glare.

Puck sighed. "He's probably in the wrong level. He never loses against opponents in the first level, but every time they bump him up to the second level he loses every fight. That knocks his rating down, so he's sent back to the first level. There are rumors that he does it on purpose because he knows he can get the purses easier in the first level."

Kurt nodded. "So basically, no one really knows how good a fighter he is because he never fights in a fair match?"

"Pretty much," Puck said. "And he's built. Like, his guns are bigger than mine."

Kurt groaned and pushed his food away. "Suddenly I don't feel all that hungry."

"Babe, you can totally take him," Puck said as he took more of the fries from Kurt's tray and stuffed them into his mouth. "You can beat him. I know you can. And you'll show all the kids here that you are a real badass."

Kurt grimaced at he watched his boyfriend eat. "Could you not talk with your mouth full? It's really gross."

Puck shrugged and swallowed the chicken he had taken from Kurt's tray. "Sorry."

"You are going to help me figure out how to fight Landon," Kurt said. "And we are going to work our asses off this week. Because I refuse to lose to this Neanderthal with the entire school watching—even it's only metaphorically."

"That's the spirit, babe," Puck said with a smile.

Chapter Text

"No," Burt Hummel stated emphatically when he saw Landon that Friday night. "Absolutely not."

"Dad!" Kurt groaned as he dragged his father away from the bonfire and all the nosey people there. "Don't do this. Not now. Puck and I have been working all week so that I would be prepared for this. I can beat him."

"Look at him Kurt!" Burt said, though he was quieter than he had been. "He's got to have a hundred pounds on you, and it's all muscle!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Just because he can lift weights doesn't mean he can fight. And I've fought guys just as big."

Burt's eyebrows raised in a good imitation of his son. "Oh?"

Kurt exhaled noisily to demonstrate his extreme annoyance. "I told you about that. A couple of the jocks at school who were being jerks."

Burt sighed. "Alright. But if I think things are getting out of hand, I will end the fight."

"Not just because he lands a punch?" Kurt asked cautiously. He wouldn't put it past his dad.

"Not just because he lands a punch," Burt agreed.

Puck and Finn warily approached them. Finn was trying unsuccessfully to hide the fact that he was carrying a beer while Puck didn't even bother to hide his cup. He handed an extra cup to Burt who eyed the boys before taking it and drinking half of it down. "Everything settled?"

"Yeah," Kurt agreed. "I'm fighting."

"Good," Puck said with a smile. "I've got two hundred riding on you."

"Well, I put two hundred on you too," Kurt said with a smile.

"Who's up first?" Finn asked.

"Lenny and Dave," Puck said. "And then Kurt and Landon."

The four of them were unnaturally quiet as they watched the first fight. Only Finn made any noise or said anything. Mostly he just gasped and hissed as one or the other of the fighters landed a punch.

"Dude, are you really gonna do that?" Finn asked once the fight was over. "Because that looked really painful."

Before Burt could revisit his objections, Kurt snapped, "Yes, I am going to do that. And I don't plan on letting anyone actually hit me. At least not the way those two were hitting each other. I'm a lot faster and more agile than either of those two."

"That's right Babe," Puck said encouragingly. "You duck and weave and make him chase you down. Then kick his ass."

Puck took Kurt off to the side to warm up again, leaving a very worried father and soon to be step-brother alone. Kurt kept glancing at them, and Puck knew he was worried that one of them would interfere. "Don't worry babe. I'll make sure they don't act up, even if I have to sit on them. You just concentrate on beating this guy."

A few minutes later, Kurt saw Puck and Jack surrounding his father on the edges of the crowd. He smiled. They would keep him in line. And Finn probably wouldn't be a problem. But he was right beside Puck too, so if he was, Puck could handle it. Turning his attention back to Landon, who was actually a rather personable guy when Puck introduced them, Kurt nodded his readiness and the fight began.

Kurt knew he couldn't feign aloofness and live this time around, though he didn't do the circling that most fighters seemed to do. He waited patiently for one of two things: either Landon would attack or he would lose focus and Kurt could attack. The trick was waiting, and in that Kurt had the upper hand over most combatants. He could be patient. He wasn't worried about looking macho in front of his friends or girlfriend. Hell, his boyfriend liked his girly side as much as he liked the fact that he could fight. Or at least that's what he said…

Kurt saw Landon's eyes flick to the side once and waited for it to happen again. When it did, he made his move. Before Landon could even turn his eyes back towards Kurt, he was faced with a full force roundhouse kick. Kurt felt his foot connect with the man's jaw and knew he had done some damage, but Landon wasn't as weak as Carl or the jocks he had fought at school. It would take more than one good kick to take him down.

While he was still reeling from that kick, Kurt landed a series of jabs to the man's solar plexus, but his abdominal muscles were taut and the punches didn't have as much of an effect as had hoped. And those harmless blows left Kurt open for Landon to land a rather tight blow to Kurt's cheek, making pain explode through his head in a way that was totally unfamiliar and almost blinding for a millisecond. Kurt didn't have the luxury of holding his cheek and moaning about the pain, though the thought flashed through his mind that he probably would do that later.

Landon attempted to use Kurt's smaller size against him and put him into a wrestling hold that would immobilize him while reducing his intake of air. Puck called it a sleeper hold. Some part of Kurt's brain registered the fact that his boyfriend was physically holding his father back, but the other part was weighing his options. He catalogued the pros and cons of each and chose a course of action. And all of this happened in less than a second. Before Kurt could even miss the air that Landon was cutting off, he used one foot to kick back into Landon's knee and then use their combined momentum from that move to flip Landon over his back and onto the ground.

Of course, this threw Kurt off balance as well and it took an extra second for him to get his footing well enough to take advantage of their new positions. Taking a page out of the bigger man's book, he used a move he had seen while watching wresting with Puck and used his full weight as he threw himself, elbow first, into the man's solar plexus. This time, there was no way that his abdominal muscles could withstand the blow and Landon lost his breath completely. Kurt stood up and waited to see if it was over. Landon gasped in a breath and waved a weak hand at Caleb. He was done.

The cheers rose up from crowd while Puck rushed to give Kurt a bear hug and Burt and Finn followed close behind. Kurt had won.

PKPKPKPKPK

The rest of the fights seemed to be a letdown, though Puck's fight against one of the other local boys was rather exciting, but only because Kurt had a vested interest in how his boyfriend did. Amazingly, because of the increased betting activity and the longs odds on Kurt, Puck made more money from his bet on Kurt than he did on his own fight. And Kurt made 14 hundred dollars for his fight.

Of course, Burt missed most of the subsequent fights because he was hovering over Kurt and his swollen cheek. Landon had really gotten him good and the swelling and bruising actually turned his cheek and left eye into a great big puffy shiner. Meg had brought over a cold pack to help with the swelling and Caleb had checked his eyes to make sure he wasn't concussed, but in all, Kurt felt like he had come through the fight pretty well. He had fought and won against a guy who never lost to first level fighters.

Caleb had checked over Landon for any permanent damage, but other than some pretty good swelling around his knee and a great big bruise in the center of his torso, he was fine.

On the drive home that night, Kurt leaned against Puck and sighed. "How many kids from school do you think were there?"

"I counted about fifty," Puck said. "Jack said there were more, but with everyone milling around, who knows."

From the driver's seat of the truck, Burt said, "Meg took the beer money and she said that there had to be closer to a hundred kids from your school. Why were so many there tonight?"

"To see me get my ass kicked," Kurt said.

"They totally bet against Kurt," Finn said. "I mean, I talked to the guys on the team and I think all but me and Puck had bets on Landon."

"Even Matt and Mike?" Kurt asked with hurt coloring his voice.

"It's not personal," Puck assured him. "You have to admit that if you were in their place, you probably would have bet on Landon too."

Kurt thought about it conceded, "Fine."

"Anyway, it doesn't mean they didn't want you to win, they just didn't think you could. Kind of like our football team. Everyone wants us to win, we just never do." Finn was being fairly diplomatic about the whole thing.

"So all those kids came just to see Kurt fight?" Burt asked. "I don't get it."

"It has to do with juice and badassness," Puck said. "The jocks at school respect the people who win at fight club."

"More like they're afraid of the people who win at fight club," Finn corrected. "Not many have tried themselves, but those who have usually come back with horror stories."

"Afraid of, respect, same thing," Puck shrugged. "The school caught a glimpse of Kurt's new badass moves and wanted to see how that translated. Now he's won two fights at the club, something no student but me has done since we were in grade school."

They pulled up to the Hummel house and all climbed from the truck. Burt had arranged for Finn and Puck to stay since they were all going to be out so late. When they got inside, Burt sent the other two boys down to Kurt's room where they had set up the pull out couch and an air mattress. He wanted to talk to his son alone for a few minutes. They went into the kitchen and Burt grabbed a beer while Kurt got a glass of water. Then they stood across from each other on opposite sides of the room.

"I want you to know that I am very proud of you," Burt said. "You did great tonight. It almost killed me to watch it, but you really did great."

Kurt smiled at his father. It wasn't often that they had moments like this. "Thanks."

"I know why you did this and I know why it was important for you to fight tonight," Burt said. "But I also want you to remember that you don't have to fight to be a man. That's a lesson your mother taught me, and I thought I would never have to teach it to you. You're so much like her in so many ways… but I guess you've got a bit of me in you too. I'll support whatever you decide, but… I hope you won't feel the need to do this much longer."

Kurt chuckled. "Look at my face, Dad. Do you really think I want to risk looking like this any more than absolutely necessary?" Burt chuckled. "Seriously, though, I think I might want to fight a couple more times, just to prove to myself and others that it wasn't a fluke and then… I don't really like fighting all that much. Sure it's a great way to stay in shape and get out all that pent up aggression, but I have to touch sweaty disgusting guys. You saw Carl tonight. He actually sweated on me." Kurt shuddered.

Burt laughed outright that time and came over to hug his son. "I don't hear you complaining when Puck hugs you after working out."

Kurt stepped back and blushed. "Yeah well… that different. He's my boyfriend and he isn't disgusting."

Burt gave Kurt a one armed hug and kissed his temple. "I love you kiddo."

"I love you too, Dad," Kurt said quietly.

PKPKPKPKPK

"So, what did your dad want?" Puck asked Kurt. They were lying in their separate beds, though Puck had pushed the air mattress right over next to Kurt's bed. Finn was out cold on the pull out couch.

Kurt leaned over his bed to look down at his boyfriend. "He wanted to tell me that I don't have to fight to prove that I'm a man."

Puck snorted. "Babe, he totally stole that from a Kenny Rogers song."

Kurt eyed his boyfriend. "And what do you know of Kenny Rogers?"

"My mom loves his shit," Puck shrugged. "Used to make us listen to him all the time. That's like totally a line from 'Coward of the County'."

Kurt groaned as the song began to play in his head. He knew he was going to hear it in his sleep. "My dad loved that song." Kurt admitted. "I think maybe it had something to do with the way he and my mom got together."

"Makes sense," Puck shrugged. He looked over to check and see if Finn was asleep before climbing up to lie beside Kurt in his bed. "Sorry. I just want to hold you for a while."

Kurt hummed and allowed Puck to gather him into his arms. "I love that you always make me feel safe and warm."

"You don't need me to keep you safe," Puck scoffed. "You are a true badass."

"Yeah," Kurt said with a small smile. He leaned in to kiss Puck, but had to pull back before it got too out of control. "Fuck that hurts."

Puck ran a gentle hand over the bruising on Kurt's cheek. It was more pronounced now and the purple marks reached from his temple to the side of his mouth. "Poor baby."

"I told my dad that I don't want to mess up my pretty face," Kurt said. "So I'm probably not going to fight for much longer. Maybe just two or three more and then I'm going to retire before they try to put me in a higher level."

Puck chuckled and kissed Kurt softly. "I won't complain. I'd like to keep your face pretty too." Puck was quiet for a minute before admitting, "It was tough watching you this time. I had to hold your dad back, but I just wanted to go out there with him and kill Landon."

"I'm glad you didn't," Kurt told him. "Because as good as it feels to have you protect me, it feels even better knowing that I can protect myself when you aren't around."

"I'm glad that you can," Puck said. "I'm so glad that you stumbled across the club. Otherwise I might never have known how bad things had gotten."

"And if you weren't teaching me to fight you wouldn't have fallen for me," Kurt said.

Puck nuzzled Kurt's neck and whispered. "Nah. I think that would have happened anyway. I'd already noticed you last year. And the more time we spent together, the more it became inevitable that I would love you."

"You love me?" Kurt asked breathlessly.

"Of course I do," Puck said. "And you love me."

Kurt smiled at the certainty in Puck's voice. "Of course I do."

"Great, everyone loves everyone," Finn muttered from his side of the room. "Can we shut up and go to sleep now?"

Kurt and Puck both laughed. Puck kissed Kurt once more before closing his eyes and drifting off.

Kurt lay in Puck's arms and thought about how much had changed in just a few short months. He wasn't worried about the bullies at school anymore. His dad and Carole were going to get married and Finn seemed to be accepting of the change. He loved the new house and couldn't wait until the closing so that he could move into his new room. And best of all, he had Puck. All the problems that had plagued him and sent him wandering that first night seemed to have disappeared to be replaced by something he hadn't felt in a very long time—not really since his mother died. Kurt Hummel was happy. And with that last thought, he joined Finn and Puck in sleep.

The End