Chapter Text
Wednesday afternoon after the dress rehearsal for West Side Story, Puck glanced up at the clock on the wall in the dressing room and relaxed just slightly. He hung his costume up, put his own clothes back on, and sat down to remove his makeup. The instant he finished, he took off for the parking lot. As soon as he pulled out, he steered into the left turn lane, then pulled his phone out to check the time again. The line in front of him started to move, and he put his phone down on the seat next to him. Less than five minutes later, his engine stalled out.
“Fuck!” he swore and hoped that no one rear-ended him.
He flipped his hazards on, then coasted to the edge of the road. Fortunately, he was right along the entrance to a gas station that had been out of business since before he was born, so he wasn’t blocking anyone from turning. He tried several times to restart his truck, to no avail. He picked his phone back up and waited for a break in the traffic that didn’t exist. After a minute, he gave up, slid across the seat, and got out of his truck on the passenger side. He considered raising the hood to take a look, but he didn’t even bother, knowing that he had no idea what to look for. He got back in, put the truck in neutral, and watched the traffic again. Once the cars were held back by the traffic light, he hopped out and used all his strength to push the truck forward enough to get it out of the road. The instant he had the truck out of the way, he jumped back in and put it in park. He grabbed his backpack, pocketed his phone, then locked the door and put his keys in his front pocket. He took off jogging down the street. As he approached the Lima Bean, he saw Kurt’s Navigator in the parking lot. He veered off the sidewalk and made his way through the parking lot.
Kurt headed out of the McKinley parking lot toward the Lima Bean, somewhat disappointed that he wouldn’t be having coffee there with Blaine after rehearsal. He pulled out but had to wait in the turn lane since the light was red. After what his dad had said about him only showing up when he needed money a few weeks back, he realized how little time he had been spending at the shop. He really did love taking an engine apart and putting it back together, despite the havoc it wreaked on his nails. Plus, the shop always felt like home, and he missed it. With college applications looming on his mind, he also realized the clock was ticking on his time with his dad, which also brought up the issue of Blaine being a junior, not a senior, as he had previously thought. As the traffic began to move again, he refocused on paying attention to driving.
He pulled into the Lima Bean parking lot and rushed inside, hoping to be able to quickly grab a bag of coffee and still make it on time to the shop for his shift at 5:00. Unfortunately, it was pretty crowded. He pushed past the line and managed to keep his balance as he squatted in front of the display, looking through the meager options of pre-ground varieties. He preferred to buy whole beans and grind them himself at home, but he didn’t have time for that. He had just chosen the Brazilian dark roast over the Nicaraguan blend and had started to stand so he could get in line when he heard Blaine’s voice.
“You're just so … you know … you’re out there.”
“And your whole bashful schoolboy thing? Super hot,” responded someone whose voice Kurt did not recognize.
He put the bag of coffee down on the top shelf of the display and stepped around it just enough to see who Blaine was talking to. He saw a guy his age in a Dalton blazer, sitting with Blaine at a table for two.
“Look, Sebastian. I have a boyfriend.”
“Doesn't bother me, if it doesn't bother you.”
“No, I mean, I really care about him.”
Kurt took a few steps towards the table, assessing the situation a bit before moving any closer.
“He doesn't need to know.”
“I'd just never want to mess my thing up with him in any way. He's really great.”
Not a rousing declaration of love, but better than agreeing to hook up with the interloper, Kurt thought. He stepped closer and said, “Who's really great?”
Since Blaine’s back was to the display, he hadn’t seen Kurt approaching, so he was startled but quickly responded, “You! We were just talking about you. Sebastian, this is Kurt, my boyfriend, who I was just—”
“Got it,” Sebastian said quickly, interrupting him.
Blaine was clearly flustered by Kurt’s arrival.
“Pleasure.” Kurt offered a polite handshake. “And how do we know Sebastian?”
Sebastian tilted his head slightly and looked him up and down, appraising him, then said, “We met at Dalton. Was dying to meet Blaine. Those Warblers just won't shut up about him. Didn't think he could live up to the hype, but as it turns out ...”
Kurt wrapped his foot around the closest chair and pulled it towards himself. He sat down, looping his arm around Blaine’s, and said, “Yes, he's even more impressive in the flesh.”
Sebastian ignored Kurt’s statement. “Hey, what are you guys doing tomorrow night?”
Kurt answered cheerfully, “Well, we're rehearsing for the school musical. And then, at bedtime, we do a rigorous skin-sloughing regimen over the phone together.”
“And as sexy as that sounds, what do you say we shake things up? I’ll get you guys a couple of fake IDs, and we'll head over to Scandals in West Lima.”
“Scandals?” Kurt asked, feigning ignorance.
“That's the gay bar,” Blaine offered quietly.
“The last time I was there, I met the man of my dreams on the dance floor.”
“That's so sweet. And are you two still together?
“Sadly, no. We broke up about 20 minutes after we met. Come on, guys. Live a little.”
Before Sebastian could go on, Puck came bounding up to the three of them. “There you are. I looked through the window and couldn’t find you anywhere, but your Nav is in the parking lot, so I was sure that you were in here.”
Kurt raised an eyebrow and asked, “Why are you searching for me, Puck?”
“Well, I left school, and my truck just stopped about three blocks from here. I managed to push it into that dead gas station.”
Kurt nodded, indicating that he knew where Puck meant.
“I was jogging along the street, and I saw your Nav in the parking lot.”
Before Kurt could get a word out, Sebastian said, “And you came in here to get sympathy from Kurt?”
“Sympathy?” Puck snorted. “Hell, no. I want him to fix it so I can go get Sarah.”
“Fix it?” Sebastian asked, perplexed.
Kurt ignored Sebastian’s quizzical look and turned back to Puck. “Is she at your nana’s?”
“No. Nana can’t take care of her anymore. I had to sign her up for this after-school program at a daycare a few blocks from here. I have to pick her up by 5:15. She can only stay for two hours after school.”
Kurt pulled his phone out and looked at the time. “There’s not enough time for me to look at it. I’ll just drive you to wherever she is. I’ll call my dad and tell him so he won’t worry. If I can’t get it running, we’ll swing by the shop. Sarah can stay there while I drive the wrecker back and tow it back to the shop.”
Sebastian had been staring at Kurt during the entire exchange.
“What?” Puck looked at Sebastian defiantly. “Do your parents just whip out their Platinum Visa and buy you a new car when yours has a problem?”
“What?” Sebastian pulled himself out of his thoughts of what Kurt might look like in coveralls, then realized what he had been asked. “Oh, no. Definitely not. I just ...”
Kurt cut him off. “You’re just as full of mistaken preconceived notions as most of the Neanderthals around here.”
“Now, Kurt,” Blaine said. “Sebastian’s new around here.”
“I heard. He’s been in France. That doesn’t seem to have made him more open-minded.”
“Touché.” Sebastian tipped his head slightly and sighed. “I'd better get going,” he said as he stood up. “It was nice to meet you, Kurt. And Puck, was it?”
“Yeah. Let’s get going, dude.” Puck turned towards the door.
“Don’t call me ‘dude’,” Kurt insisted. He bypassed the display, leaving the coffee where he had set it, and followed Puck out of the building.
Kurt pressed the remote on the Nav as they approached.
Puck hopped in the passenger seat and quickly put his seat belt on, knowing that Kurt wouldn’t pull out of the parking spot until he had it fastened. “What’s Blaine doing in there on a coffee date with Sebastian the Snob from Dalton? He’s obviously new, not just to Lima. He didn’t know you.”
Kurt clicked his own seatbelt and backed out.“Yeah, he’s new. And I have no idea why they were having coffee. I met him not even a minute before you did.” He stopped at the edge of the street.
“That is not cool. Hang a right. It’s down two blocks on the left.”
Kurt nodded and pulled out into traffic. “Well, I know for a fact that Blaine does not consider getting coffee with someone to be a date.” He thought back to the innumerable times he and Blaine had gone out for coffee long before they had started to date.
“Yeah, well, the other guy ...”
“Sebastian. He was hitting on Blaine. Yes. I overheard him.”
“Jesse St. James, only much gayer?” Puck asked.
Kurt snorted. “Could be.” He stopped and waited until he could turn left.
Once Kurt had made it through the intersection, Puck said, “Around the corner on the right. Three houses down. You’ll have to park on the street.”
“Got it.” Kurt pulled up and parked.
As he waited for Puck to retrieve Sarah, he replayed what had happened. Blaine made arrangements to meet up with Sebastian when he knew that Kurt would be working. Why? he wondered. Given how he had heard Blaine mention him right before he walked up, it seemed that Sebastian hadn’t known that Blaine wasn’t available, so perhaps he really just wanted to ask Blaine out. But Puck’s idea of Sebastian spying on the New Directions had some merit. Did Sebastian think he could flirt his way into getting information on the group? It didn’t seem all that far-fetched, given that Blaine had gone to Dalton to invite the Warblers to watch West Side Story when he had to work on Monday. He was sure that the whole group had fawned all over Blaine the instant they saw him. That had to have gotten Sebastian’s attention. Before Kurt had time to ponder the situation anymore, Sarah came bounding up to the Navigator with Puck trailing behind her slightly, carrying her backpack and jacket.
As she opened the back door, Puck said, “You should be wearing this jacket.”
“It’s not that cold. And it won’t even zip. And the sleeves are too short.” She slid to the center spot.
Puck put her stuff in the seat next to her. “Fasten your seatbelt.”
“Yes, sir. Noah, sir,” she smarted back.
“Not my rule. You know that. Stop being a sass. Kurt doesn’t want to get a ticket because you’re not wearing your seatbelt.”
“He’s right, Sarah. Plus, you’re safer wearing it.”
As soon as Kurt heard the click, he pulled out onto the street, heading back towards Puck’s truck.
“I know, I know. But it chokes me.”
“That’s because you need a booster seat, squirt.”
“I hate those. Don’t call me ‘squirt’. I’m not a baby.”
“I know. You’re eight going on 19. By law, you don’t have to ride in one, but the seat belt wouldn’t choke you if you did. Your neck, your choice. We’ve been over this.”
“Where’s your truck anyway?”
“Dead.”
“From what?”
“Undetermined.”
Kurt spoke to Sarah. “Just so you know, I’ve seen ones that just basically look like cushions. Not babified at all.”
“Well, the one I had looked like it was for a baby. It was pink and gross.”
“That’s because it’s the one you had since you were four. You liked pink back then.”
“Well, I don’t now.”
Puck snorted.
“Well, not THAT color of pink.”
Stifling a chuckle, Kurt checked his side mirror once more. “Describe to me what happened,” he said as he pulled back out onto the main road.
Kurt shut the hood on the truck after he put the jumper cables back in the box he kept them in. “Well, it’s not your battery or your alternator.”
“Is that good or bad?” Sarah asked. “I don’t know what either of those mean.”
“Well, it’s bad in that my attempt at jump-starting it isn’t going to get it to the shop where I can look at it properly.”
“Oh. So, now what?” she asked.
“Now, you’re going to wait in the backseat, and the two of us are going to push it up into the parking lot just a bit more, then we’re going to go to the shop. You can stay there with my dad while I bring the wrecker back and tow the truck back to the shop.”
She shrugged. “Alright. Is there any food there? I’m hungry.”
“Don’t they give you a snack when you get there?” Puck asked.
“They do, but it was cinnamon applesauce and those gross cinnamon Teddy Grahams that I hate.”
Puck chuckled. “Alright, squirt. I’m sure we can come up with something to keep you from starving until dinner. Go get back in the Nav, like Kurt said, so we can get this done.”
“Okay.” She skipped off back to the Navigator and got in the backseat.
“She hates cinnamon?” Kurt asked as they walked back towards the truck.
Puck snorted. “That’s an understatement. She says it’s hot as fire and burns, and it makes her mouth itch.”
“I’m sure I can find at least one chocolate bar hidden in my dad’s desk. But there are also granola bars if you’d rather me not give her candy.”
“Definitely the granola bars. If she’s actually hungry, she’ll eat them. She’ll eat chocolate whether she’s hungry or not.”
Kurt chuckled. “Smart girl.”
Puck unlocked the truck from the passenger side, then went around and slid in long enough to put the truck in neutral. He and Kurt pushed it about 10 more feet away from the road. Kurt closed the passenger door and waited for Puck to lock it up and come back around.
“Did you say that her mouth itches when she eats it?”
“Yeah, and she was scratching at her arms the last time she ate some. Why?”
“I think she’s allergic to it. If you get her doctor to test her, I bet the daycare would have to feed her something else when they serve the cinnamon stuff.”
“I’ll have to ask.”
Puck stood looking over the engine from the side as Kurt was examining it. “So, what’s the verdict?”
“Besides the fact that your air filter was so dirty that it stalled your truck out, your oil needs changed. And you have a leak. You’re a quart and a half low.”
“I know about the oil leak. I’ve been putting a quart in every other week.”
“Well, I’m going to figure out where it’s leaking and patch it up, then change your oil.” He continued on with his inspection. “Has it been misfiring?”
“Occasionally.”
Kurt spent a few minutes fiddling with something, then pulled out several small objects and laid them on a tray on the counter. “And you need three new spark plugs, which are fouled out from driving with the clogged air filter.”
“Damn. How much is all of that going to cost?”
“Well, the oil and air filter is about $20, and the spark plugs are about $10. I’m going to find the leak and fix it myself too. All of it off the clock. That way, there won’t be any labor charge.”
“Why?”
“Would you rather I charge you $100 for the labor, plus the cost of the tow, and the parts?”
“Of course not, but why aren’t you?”
Kurt ignored him. “How about you either stay out of the way or go entertain Sarah? You could help her with her homework or do your own while I get this done so you can get her home for dinner.”
“I can stay out of the way. Sarah does her homework at the daycare so she can watch TV when we get home.”
Kurt walked away and came back a few minutes later with the air filter and spark plugs.
“What are you going to do about that buttinksy at the coffee shop?”
“Should I do something?” Kurt asked as he got the creeper in position to slide under Puck’s truck.
“I saw how you had your arm through Blaine’s like he was your life jacket on a sinking ship. He’s not all that. He’s like the male version of Rachel.”
“Whom you dated.”
Puck snorted and shrugged. “You should have been Tony. That was the agreement. And instead, you’re the only one in Glee who isn’t in a lead role. You don’t even sing or dance.”
“You don’t have to remind me.” Kurt huffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m fully aware of that fact.”
“Why didn’t you fight for it? Why did you just lay down and let him walk all over you? Hell, if me or Finn had been cast as Tony, you would have confronted us for going back on our word. Finn didn’t even audition.” Picked huffed loudly. "I heard you gave him flowers. For fuck’s sake, Kurt. You congratulated him for screwing you over. What happened to the Kurt who used to tell all of us Lima Losers that we’d work for you some day?”
“Just let it go, okay? Relationships are hard. Not that I’d expect you to know anything about making one work.”
Puck shrugged. “Never said I did. It’s not like I’ve ever seen anyone in a good one. But I do know that you should be Tony.”
“Well, the only other role for a tenor is Riff. Mike was the only one who auditioned for it, and he got it.”
“Yeah, that’s because we all sat around and talked about who we’d all be after we all decided that you would be Tony.”
“Well, I appreciate your vote of confidence, but if you had such a strong opinion about the casting, you should have gone to Miss Pillsbury or Coach Beiste—about six weeks ago. It’s too little, too late.”
Puck shrugged. “I never even considered going to them. The teachers never do anything useful.”
“Well, look. As much as I’d like to talk about the injustices of the staff at school, I need to get this done before closing. I still have homework, and it’s my night to cook.”
“Gotcha. Shut up and leave you alone.”