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Two days after spring break, Puck is already tired of being back at McKinley and tired of freshman year. There’s no guarantee that sophomore year will be any different, but there’ll be an entire class of freshman there to be the lowest men on the totem pole. Puck’s never figured that saying out, either, because the totem poles that Puck’s seen on PBS have animals on them, mostly, not people. The point is, he’s avoiding English class until the very last second that the bell rings, and that means that he’s stuck doing the ‘group discussion questions’ with the only person in the room who doesn’t have a partner—Kurt Hummel, or as Puck thinks of him most of the time, the fussy kid.
“Yo,” Puck says with a nod as he sits down in the desk next to Kurt’s.
“Hello,” Kurt says, batting his admittedly long-and-pretty eyelashes in Puck’s direction.
Puck chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment, giving Kurt a sidelong look. “What are we discussing today?” he finally asks.
“George Orwell’s Animal Farm,” Kurt says. “You have read it, I presume?”
“Oh yeah,” Puck lies. “The animals had a need to rebel against the tyranny of Man.” He hadn’t read it, but he did Google the Cliff notes the night before. It takes a lot less time to read those than an entire book. Kurt looks like he may be impressed that Puck read it, however, his eyes brightening and his smile widening.
“Good. I usually end up with a partner who hasn’t done the work,” Kurt says. He pulls out a copy of Animal Farm and places it on his desk next to the handout with the discussion questions, then looks at Puck expectantly.
“You don’t want me to write the answers. My handwriting’s shit,” Puck says, then looks over his shoulder to make sure their teacher didn’t hear him.
“Oh. I don’t mind writing,” Kurt says. “I have excellent penmanship. So…” He taps his index finger on the first question. Puck wonders if Kurt gets his nails manicured or something, because he’s never seen a dude with fingernails that nice before, though there isn’t any polish on them that he can see. Kurt clears his throat, and Puck realizes Kurt seems to be expecting Puck to provide an answer to the first question. When Puck doesn’t immediately respond, Kurt begins reading the question aloud. “Discuss the relevance of the phrase ‘four legs good, two legs bad’ and compare it to the slogans from the handout on early American labor unions.”
“I like unions,” Puck says. “Did you see the thing on PBS about them? There was a lot about the big bosses profiting off the little people. See? Two legs profiting off four.” It doesn’t make a lot of sense in Puck’s head, but it sounds like the kind of thing that English teachers like, and if he gets a good grade on this, maybe he can skip the next homework assignment.
“Oh, that’s good!” Kurt says, quickly writing a slightly-reworded version of Puck’s answer. He does have excellent handwriting. “Much better than I expected. You watch PBS?”
“Only at Nana’s,” Puck says quietly.
“You watch with your grandmother? That’s so sweet,” Kurt says, tapping his finger on the next question.
Puck frowns at Kurt. “Don’t repeat that.”
“You don’t think other people would think it’s sweet? You don’t want, say, the girls to know?” Kurt asks. His tone sounds innocent, and the look on his face definitely suggests he’s trying to look innocent, but something in Kurt’s tone seems like he’s fishing.
“I like to keep my business to myself,” Puck says, still frowning.
“Well, I think you’re sweet,” Kurt says, batting his eyelashes again.
“Yeah, I guess I’m not real concerned about that,” Puck says honestly. “Let’s just get this stupid worksheet done.”
“I thought we were having a nice time working together,” Kurt says, with less eyelash-batting.
Puck sighs. “I don’t think Coach Tanaka worries too much about whether or not his coworkers think he’s sweet. Okay?”
“Coworkers?”
“Working together. Coworkers?” Puck says, probably more nicely than he would have expected of himself an hour earlier.
“I thought maybe we could be acquaintances,” Kurt says. “Maybe even friends.” He goes back to the eyelash-batting.
“Are your contacts bothering you?” Puck asks as blandly as he can.
Kurt’s head tips to the side in confusion. “I don’t wear contacts.”
“Oh. Well, I think you have something in your eye,” Puck says.
“No, they’re just naturally this color. Yours are pretty, too.”
“Uh, I didn’t say anything about that,” Puck says. He pushes the worksheet towards Kurt. “But you keep blinking a lot. Might want to get that checked out.” He folds his arms on the desk in front of him and puts his head on top of them.
“Are you ready to work on the next question?” Kurt asks.
Puck snorts to himself and closes his eyes. “Sure.”
~~~
Finn doesn’t mind the days they run laps in P.E. like some of the other kids do. He can shut off his brain for a while and not worry about anything, like whether or not Quinn will ever really let him kiss her or if he remembered to do his math homework. Most days he can shut his brain off, anyway, but today that Kurt kid trots up next to him when he’s halfway through his second lap. Kurt has on a sweatband headband thing like they wear on Finn’s mom’s old workout videos. He has on the wristband sweatbands, too. What makes it even weirder is that Kurt doesn’t actually look like he’s sweating.
“Well, hello, Finn Hudson,” Kurt says with a deeper breath in the middle of the sentence. “I bet running laps is easy for you.”
“Uh. Hi. Yeah, we run a lot for football,” Finn says, trying to focus on the track and his shut-off brain instead of on Kurt’s voice.
“You look so comfortable on the track, like it’s fun,” Kurt continues.
“It is fun. Usually.”
“Is it the kind of thing you like to do on a date?” Kurt asks, and he looks at Finn with a bright smile, especially considering the pace they’re running.
“Uh. Not usually, no,” Finn says. “Quinn gets enough exercise with the Cheerios.”
“But you’d want to?”
“I kinda like my alone time,” Finn says. Maybe this Kurt kid’ll get the message and stop talking.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to do activities on dates that you want to do? With shared interests with the… person you’re dating?” Kurt asks.
“Not really. Not if it’s running.”
“What would you like to do on a date, then?” Kurt asks, still pretty chipper for running laps.
“Whatever Quinn wants to do,” Finn says. “It’s easier that way.”
Kurt fake-laughs. “If you were dating someone who wasn’t Quinn, and you got to choose.”
“I dunno. Pizza and a movie?”
“What’s your favorite movie?” Kurt immediately asks.
Finn names the first movie that he thinks of, in hopes that Kurt will stop talking. “Groundhog Day.”
“I’ve never seen it. Maybe you could show it to me sometime?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Like… a date?” Kurt says, sounding hopeful.
“Like a— what? No!” Finn says. “Like so you’ll stop talking so I can shut off my brain!”
Kurt gasps loudly. “Well!” he says, falling back a step or two.
“Finally,” Finn says to himself, continuing his run, just a little faster. Kurt falls further behind him, and he doesn’t attempt to catch back up with Finn.
~~~
Puck doesn’t spend a lot of time thinking about the weird day in English with the fussy Kurt kid, but a couple of weeks later as Puck is walking to Finn’s on Saturday morning, he thinks about it again. Mainly because while he’s waiting to cross the street, he notices Kurt sitting in a dark green Buick with a bald guy that’s probably Kurt’s dad. Puck deliberately avoids making eye contact with Kurt, hurrying across as soon as the light changes, but he’s still thinking about Kurt and the weird probably-flirting when he gets to Finn’s and as they turn on Mario.
“You know that Hummel kid?” Puck asks.
“That Kurt kid?” Finn asks. “Yeah. We’re in P.E. together.”
“Does he ever… talk to you?”
“Like what kind of talking? He talks at me.”
“The something-in-his-eye kind of talking,” Puck says. “The ‘you have pretty eyes’ kind.”
“He didn’t tell me I have pretty eyes,” Finn says. “Wait. Did he tell you you have pretty eyes?”
“Yeahhh,” Puck says. “He did.”
Finn makes a ‘huh’ noise, then continues with his Mario playing for a little while before saying, “You kinda do, though, dude. They’re real nice.”
“Oh my God,” Puck says, shaking his head.
“What? I just wanna tell you what nice eyes you have, like really shiny brownish things that are, you know, pretty,” Finn says, grinning with one side of his mouth and not looking away from the screen.
“Are you hitting on me, too?” Puck asks, feeling amused.
“Only if you want me to, baby.”
“Baby?” Puck says. “And did he hit on you?”
“He did more than hit on me. He tried to get me to take him on a date!” Finn says. “But even if I wanted to, a date to watch Groundhog Day would be stupid. I watch that with you all the time.”
Puck laughs. “I guess he didn’t think about the fact that you’re dating Quinn, either?” Better to remind himself about that, too, before he goes back to the ‘baby’ or anything he shouldn’t.
Finn shrugs. “I reminded him, but he’s like my mom says. Dog with a bone.”
“Oh yeah. I had to stop being polite even,” Puck says. “Meant I had to do my homework the next night.”
“He wears sweatbands when he runs,” Finn says.
“Like… our moms?”
“Like our moms’ workout videos.”
“And he thinks one of us would want to go on a date with him?” Puck says incredulously.
“Apparently so. Weird, right?” Finn asks.
“Yeah, I mean, does he even know how weird he looks most of the time?” Puck asks. “And he’s pushy.” He stops. “I mean, you know, besides the… dude thing.”
“Yeah,” Finn says agreeably. “I just like to run, you know? Without somebody talking to me.”
“We never talk when we run. Talking’s for, like, after you run. Or Mario.”
“I know!”
Puck nods and keeps playing, and he knows at least ten minutes pass before he says anything else. “I didn’t really get mad about the dude thing like I would have thought.”
“No?” Finn says. He doesn’t look at Puck, just keeps staring at Mario. “Me either, I don’t think.”
“I mean, not him, he’s too fussy,” Puck says. “But like… in general, maybe, you know.”
“I guess. I never really thought about it much before,” Finn says.
“What makes something dating instead of just hanging out?”
Finn shrugs. “I only know when Quinn tells me.”
“Like maybe this is a date. I don’t know,” Puck says, frowning when Finn mentions Quinn. “What makes it different? You said I had pretty eyes and we’re talking and playing Mario.”
“I think it’s different because it’s actually fun,” Finn says. “Real dates aren’t fun for the guy.”
Puck kicks the coffee table. “I’ll stick with not dating anyone then.”
“Yeah,” Finn says, laughing a little. “I guess you’re the lucky one, huh?”
“Why are you dating her if it’s not fun?”
Finn shrugs. “I figured that’s just how it works.”
“But you said she doesn’t even kiss you.”
“She will eventually, I guess. I don’t mind too much.”
Puck frowns and doesn’t say anything while they play through the next level. When they win, though, he looks at Finn. “I’d kiss you.”
Puck thinks Finn’s voice catches a little, but Finn doesn’t look up from the controller in his hands. “Yeah?”
“If this were a date.”
Finn does look up at Puck then, a little confused but not pissed-off-looking. “But we didn’t even eat something.”
“‘Cause we always order pizza after Mario,” Puck says. “It’s not even eleven.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Finn says.
Puck nods and waits a few more seconds. “So?”
“So?” Finn repeats.
“So is it a date?”
“I think that would be cheating,” Finn says. “I mean, Quinn never said I couldn’t date another guy, but she definitely wouldn’t let me go on a date with another girl.”
Puck kicks the coffee table again. “You’d rather date her and not do anything fun and not get kissed?”
Finn shrugs. “I’m just doing the high school thing, dude.”
“So you’d rather date her,” Puck repeats.
“I didn’t say that. I was just saying why I was dating her.”
“Yeah, but you said this wasn’t a date because Quinn would be mad, so you must want to date her more,” Puck says with a shrug. “So maybe the dude-thing does bother you.”
“I don’t know. Maybe a little. Not like how I think you think it does,” Finn says.
“I don’t know what that means,” Puck says, a little defensively.
“It means it doesn’t bother me that you’re a dude, just kind of in general a little,” Finn says. “But not you.”
“But it’s not a date, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“It could be,” Finn says quickly.
“You told me it wasn’t!” Puck kicks the coffee table. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, I’m glad you did, and stop kicking the table, that’s my job!” Finn says. “I just don’t know what to say!”
Puck kicks the coffee table again and makes a face at Finn. “If this is a date and you’d rather date Quinn, you should probably tell me to leave.”
“Oh my God, quit kicking the table! You’re such a dork sometimes!”
Puck taps the table with the toe of his shoe. “So’re you!”
Finn kicks the side of Puck’s shoe with his. “No, just you!”
“Nuh-uh,” Puck says, kicking Finn’s foot back. “Just tell me to leave or not.”
“Not! Geez, you’re acting like a baby!” Finn kicks Puck’s foot again.
“You’re the one who can’t decide anything!”
“I can!”
“Yeah?” Puck says. “So it is a date?”
“Yeah, okay, it’s a date,” Finn says.
“Okay,” Puck says, setting down his controller and turning towards Finn. He kisses him, a little harder than he means to, because he's a little off-balance. Finn apparently didn’t realize Puck really meant he was going to kiss him then, because he doesn’t help Puck regain balance so much as lose balance with him so both of them topple over. Puck lands half-on top of Finn, but it's not the most uncomfortable thing ever, and he keeps kissing Finn. They make out for almost ten minutes before Finn moves his head away a little to grin at Puck.
“Okay, this kind of date is fun,” Finn says.
Puck grins back. “Yeah, it is.”
~~~
“I for one won’t miss most of the people here over the summer,” Kurt’s voice says from somewhere behind Finn and Puck in math on the last day of spring semester. Finn looks over his shoulder and frowns before turning back to talk to Puck.
“Yeah, I won’t either, but I don’t yell about it in the hall like a jerk,” Finn says to Puck.
“Make a list on the board, even,” Puck says.
Kurt’s voice continues without anyone else responding to him. “This school is full of bigots. Racism, homophobia, sexism, they’re all rampant. You can’t even be friendly to someone of the same gender.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Finn says, still to Puck. “Do you think that’s true? I mean, some people are definitely jerks, but I think people are mostly okay.”
“Yeah, like he’s pretty weird, but people react to that, probably,” Puck says with a shrug.
Someone behind them says something quietly to Kurt, and then Kurt responds. “Oh yes, even them.”
Finn turns and looks at Kurt, who is definitely looking in his and Puck’s direction. “Hey!” Finn says loudly. “That’s not true!”
“Feeling guilty?” Kurt asks.
“No. Why would I feel guilty? I didn’t do anything wrong,” Finn says.
“Both of you, acting like a date with another boy was something horrible,” Kurt says.
“Uh. No? When did that happen?” Finn asks. He looks at Puck. “Did that happen?”
Puck shrugs. “I guess maybe he means those couple of times he was hitting on us?”
“Oh,” Finn says, then looks back at Kurt. “Is that what you mean?”
“You didn’t want to go on a date or anything!” Kurt says insistently.
“Well, yeah, not with you,” Finn says.
“Yes, me, another boy,” Kurt says.
“That totally wasn’t the deal-breaker,” Puck says, shaking his head vigorously.
“Definitely not,” Finn agrees.
“See, you are trying to make yourself feel better,” Kurt says. “What else would it have been?”
“I just really don’t like you that much,” Finn says. “Like you’re probably an okay person, but you’re also really annoying.”
Puck nods. “You’re kind of tone-deaf about reading people. And you know, fussy.” He wiggles his fingers around his face.
“What?” Kurt says, sounding outraged.
“Fussy,” Finn says helpfully. “You know, like, fussy.”
“I—that is—the most creative expression of homophobia,” Kurt says with his teeth clenched.
“Noooooo, it’s really not,” Finn says.
“Yeah, it’s just like… Kurtphobia,” Puck says, which probably isn’t very helpful, since Kurt almost growls and glares at them.
“Excuse you!” Kurt says. “I should report you!”
“For what? Not being into you?” Finn asks.
“I think Kurt thinks that if a guy is into any other guys, he should be into Kurt,” Puck says. Kurt opens and closes his mouth twice, still glaring.
Finn shakes his head. “Sorry, dude. You’re just not my type. I like guys that don’t talk to me while I’m running.”
Puck snorts. “That’s true.”
“Ugh!” Kurt huffs and turns away from them. “You don’t like any guys, but of course that’s the defense you’d use.”
“I do,” Finn says. “Just not you.”
“Just stop,” Kurt says, sounding infuriated and holding up his hand.
“He’s not going to believe us,” Puck says with a shrug. “Or report us.”
“Well, whatever, that’s his problem,” Finn says, turning to walk away from Kurt. He grabs Puck’s sleeve and pulls him along, too. Kurt huffs at least twice behind them.
Puck shrugs again. “I can show you how not-homophobic I am.”
“That’s true,” Finn says. “You can.”
“Or we could ditch the rest of today.”
“Or both.”
Puck grins. “Want to start on today’s to-do list right now?”
“Sounds great to me,” Finn says.
“Awesome.” Puck stops and looks down the next hallway. “Let’s go.”