Puck had been a bit of a player around campus for the past year and a half, so even most of the seniors knew his reputation. Plenty of the students knew his face, too, since he was one of the best running backs the school had had in the past ten years, which sadly said a lot more about the team than about Puck's skills, and the student paper had done a couple biopics about him. Sometimes it made it easier to get laid, but sometimes, given the right kind of party, it just made things more difficult.

The academics tended to assume he was good for one thing and one thing only - running a ball down a field. Yeah, they weren't too far off base there. Puck tended to take the easiest classes he could get away with because really, he wasn't built for school. If it hadn't been for football, he'd probably be working his way up the seniority ladder at the City of Lima maintenance department.

With a college degree, though, and his natural charisma, Puck was sure he could find a job selling something expensive - like cars or boats or houses or something - when his football career was over. Unlike his best friend and the quarter back on the team, Finn Hudson, Puck wasn't stupid enough to think this football thing was going to last forever. But, what was the point of being the campus stud if you had to spend all your time studying to get good grades in some stupid major that wouldn't make a difference later on anyway?

So there Puck was, eating lunch outside on a nicer spring day, watching the girls that passed by and supplying a running commentary to his friends on whether he had fucked them, would fuck them, or wouldn't touch them with a twelve-foot pole. He didn't comment on any of the guys he'd been with, because none of his friends really knew about that part of his life. Plus, most of the dudes he'd been with were closeted, too. Mostly he met them online, setting up hook-ups that were all but anonymous, but sometimes he met them at parties or whatever.

It wasn't like sleeping with chicks was a lie or anything. He liked them almost as much as he liked dudes and it was way easier, given how many of them were around to throw themselves in his direction more often than not. He was a college dude, not giving into temptation was totally against the rules.

"You think," one of the guys, Azimio, asked him, "you could get anyone to make out with you?"

Puck smirked. "Yeah, sure. I'm like the king of the badass studs. Chicks are defenseless against my charms!" Hudson laughed and held his fist out for Puck to bump, which Puck did, thinking the whole time that it was a shame Hudson was so attached to his girlfriend. They would have such fun tearing up the town and landing girls together. Well, not together together, though that left an interesting picture in Puck's head.

Azimio laughed and then pointed across the quad to a group of drama kids, saying, "I bet you two weeks of locker room clean-up duty that you can't get that homo faggot to make out with you."

Puck hated that word, but didn't protest because what was the point? It got thrown around the locker room like it was going out of style. Protesting would just cause more trouble than it was worth.

Sighing, he looked over at the group, trying to figure out which "homo faggot" Azimio meant. They were mostly girls, but one boy did stand out to Puck, his face poised in concentration as he used one hand to twirl the end of the long scarf wrapped around his neck and the other to write something on the notebook resting delicately on his long fucking legs. Oh, for the love of god, please let Azimio be talking about him. "Which one?" Puck asked, hiding his excitement over the possibility as best he could. "There's a whole fucking flock of them."

"A flock of faggots!" Azimio guffawed, holding his hand up for a high-five from his right-hand man, Karofsky. Puck didn't miss the flash of disappointment on Karofsky's face just before he laughed and slapped his hand against Azimio's. Yeah, Puck knew all about Karofsky being gay. He'd been one of Puck's first "anonymous" hook-ups here on campus and they still got together once in a while, when other avenues went dry. "No, the one in the scarf, Puckerman. He looks enough like a girl that it shouldn't be too much of a stretch for you!"

As the boys laughed around him, Puck bit his tongue so he wouldn't say that yeah, sure, the guy was pretty, but he was also wearing pants so tight that they left very little to the imagination - and the outline of his cock, along with the Adam's apple hiding behind his scarf and the slight five o'clock shadow on his jawline very clearly marked him as a full-fledged man. No, it was the "come fuck me" clothes that marked him as effeminate and obviously gay.

Well, that and the shorter boy with the curly hair and glasses who flopped down next to Pretty Scarf Boy and pressed an affectionate kiss to his lips. "Looks like he's already got a boyfriend," Hudson said in disappointment. "Maybe we should pick an actual girl for Puck to make out with instead."

"Three weeks of clean-up duty," Azimio countered, obviously upping the bet just so Puck's pride would compel him to take it. Well, it wasn't pride making Puck seriously consider taking the bet - it was the thought of taking that boy apart and putting him back together in the dirtiest ways possible.

So really, at the end of the day, Puck had two options: Take the bet and possibly lose, having to spend the rest of the semester practically taking Azimio's duty as well as his own; or tell Azimio to fuck off and have no alibi whatsoever when he spent every waking moment trying to get into Pretty Scarf Boy's pants.

Who the fuck was he kidding? He was Noah freaking Puckerman. He wasn't going to lose!

Smirking at the rest of the table, Puck told them, "I'll take that bet, dude. Gimme two weeks to get the job done and you'll be sorry you ever dared me to do something so god damned easy!"

"If it's so easy," Azimio smirked, rolling his eyes, "then I'm sure one week will be enough. Don't you think boys?"

Everyone except Hudson and Karofsky whooped and hollered, so Puck had to agreed, "Fine. One week. You're on!"

A fist bump sealed the deal and Puck finished his lunch, watching PSB finish his work, almost oblivious to the people around him.

Kurt Hummel was working on rearranging to fit his unique voice a song for his upcoming audition. The summer musical had a part perfect for his voice and stage presence, so all he had to do now was impress the student directors into giving him a callback so he could audition for the faculty directors. Since Kurt was sleeping with one of the student directors, he probably didn't even have to show up to get the callback. However, relying on his boyfriend to get ahead and not giving it his all just wasn't Kurt.

He was interrupted in his thoughts when a giant crashed down in the library chair next to him, saying, "Hey, brother."

"Finn," Kurt nodded to his step-brother, sneering at his latest Abercrombie and Nightmare ensemble. "If you keep needing my help to pass your classes, I'm going to tell Carole she needs to start paying me for my time."

"Hey!" Finn complained with a chuckle, shouldering Kurt lightly. "No, I'm doing good this semester. Honest."

"Then why the unexpected visit?" Kurt asked, shuffling his papers until they were just-so.

"I, uh, came to warn you," Finn stammered nervously.

"Warn me about what?"

Kurt watched curiously as Finn started and stopped a few times before admitting, "Someofthe guysbetPuck tomakeout withyou."

"What?" Kurt asked softly, raising one eyebrow in disbelief. "What's a Puck and how is making out involved, exactly?"

Rolling his eyes, Finn insisted, "Puck is my best friend on the team, bro! The running back? How have you not met him yet?"

"Because I find your friends disgusting and uncouth, not to mention flagrantly homophobic?" Kurt suggested. "Where does making out fit into this scenario, exactly?"

"Azimio bet Puckerman he couldn't get you to make out with him before, like, a week is up," Finn explained, playing with the zipper pull on his tragic jacket. "Puck took the bet."

Sighing, Kurt shook his head and asked, "Why me? There are plenty of gay men on campus."

"Dude, I don't wanna know," Finn frowned, that small trace of homophobia still left in him even after close to four years of being Kurt's step-brother. "I guess they just picked you because you were in their line of sight or something. You know, convenient."

"And at no point during the conversation did you tell them I was your step-brother, did you?" Kurt asked, setting a harsh glare on Finn, who sort of retreated in on himself (well as much as a six-foot-five giant can) and shook his head. Sighing, Kurt went back to his work for a few moments before asking, "What did they bet?"

"That Puck couldn't make out with y-"

"I meant, what are the stakes?" Kurt interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Was there large sums of money involved? I have been eying a new Prada scarf lately."

It took Finn a moment to understand what Kurt was talking about, but when he did, he coughed and replied, "No, man. No money. Just locker room clean up duties at stake. Well, and pride. You'd really make out with a guy that wasn't your boyfriend just for a scarf?"

Kurt shrugged. He hadn't really been feeling like Blaine's boyfriend lately. They'd both gotten busier with school and Blaine had a big part in the spring musical that kept him busy most nights. They hadn't had sex in at least a week and even then it had been a few instances of getting off as quickly as possible before one or the other had to go back to his dorm room and get some sleep. Maybe this was the stage of the relationship that everyone warned you about - when the magic faded and all that was left were the two of you.

They had been dating since high school. Kurt hadn't even expected to meet anyone until college, but then there was Blaine, the dapper young man who was talented and sweet and seemed to have all the answers. But that time seemed so long ago and Kurt had this itching feeling at the back of his neck that college could be so much more if he wasn't with Blaine.

Grinning at Finn and taking his arm in a brotherly fashion, Kurt insisted, "You, my dear Finn, are going to introduce me to Puckerman."

Mouth falling open in shock, Finn asked, "But what about Blaine? I don't think I can do that to h-"

"Oh, I'm not going to go through with it," Kurt insisted, lying through his teeth. If this Puckerman guy was ugly, maybe he wouldn't go through with it, but Finn didn't need to know Kurt's less-than-honorable intentions if Puck was actually attractive. "I just want to tell him off to his face."

Finn looked concerned, but he nodded and said, "Okay," anyway, just like Kurt knew he would.

After football practice, Finn approached Puck and said, "Hey, dude. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," Puck shrugged. All he was really gonna do that evening was poke around on the university website to see if he could figure out who exactly he was supposed to be making out with. He'd seen the guy once in passing that day, in the music building, but he hadn't had the opportunity to go introduce himself. Besides, that shorter, curly-haired boy was at his side at the time, and Puck really wanted to introduce himself in a way he couldn't really do if the guy's boyfriend was right there - with plenty of innuendo. "What's up, dude?"

"So you know that bet you made with Azimio?"

"Uh, yeah," Puck nodded with a scoff. "It was just yesterday. Unlike you, Hudson, I don't have the memory span of a goldfish."

Finn looked confused for half a moment (it was really almost endearing) and then shook his head, plowing onward. "Well, I didn't tell you before, but he's sort of my stepbrother, Kurt."

"Stepbrother?" Puck asked, wondering what other hidden depths there were hiding somewhere in his friend's exceptionally large shadow. And now at least Puck had a name to go off of - Kurt. Sizing Finn up, Puck rolled his eyes and muttered, "What? Are you gonna warn me off? I gotta do it, dude, your stepbrother or not. Unless you want to cover Azimio's shifts for m-"

"No!" Finn insisted quickly, and there was the slightly lazy guy Puck knew and loved. "No. I just thought- I mean, I figured I could introduce you to him. I've been meaning to forever, anyway. He's coming by my dorm to help me study."

Feeling like maybe luck was with him just this once, Puck asked, "Really? That's all there is to it?"

"Yeah," Finn replied, looking just the tiniest bit nervous. "I mean, I'm your friend, bro. It's like, my duty to help you out."

Letting a smile spread across his face, Puck slapped Finn on the shoulder and said, "Well, alright, dude! Let's do this thing!"

Puck followed Finn back to his dorm room, which was in the same building as his own, and most of the other football players, so it wasn't like he had to go out of his way or anything. Making himself at home, Puck grabbed a sports drink out of Finn's mini-fridge and turned on his TV, flipping through the few stations the campus cable provided until he came to a rerun of some sitcom or other that didn't look too terrible.

It wasn't two minutes before Pretty Scarf Boy himself arrived, walking right into Finn's room without knocking, like he had every right to be there. Finn looked up from his place on the chair next to Puck's and said, "Oh, hey, Kurt! This is-"

"The legendary Noah Puckerman," Kurt nodded, looking him up and down with this assessing eye that made Puck wish he was either naked or wearing a lot more clothing. "So I see."

"So you've heard of me?" Puck asked with a smirk, getting up out of his chair to look this kid straight in the eyes.

"Recently, yes" Kurt nodded with a frown on his lips. "Finn, if you would be so kind as to..."

After shaking off what seemed to be a perpetual state of dumbness, Finn stood up, saying, "Yeah, sure. Did you want me to-"

"Please," Kurt interrupted him with a nod, gesturing vaguely toward the door, like he wanted Finn to leave. What the fuck?

While Finn high-tailed it out of there, Puck turned to Kurt and asked, "So, do I want to know what this is all about?"

Kurt raised one eyebrow silently before looking Puck up and down again, circling around him like an art collector assessing a fancy-ass sculpture or something. Well, Puck's bod was pretty chiseled. He smirked when Kurt finally finished his circuit and met Puck's eyes. "You certainly know you're attractive, don't you?" Kurt asked, his voice cold, but his cheeks betraying him with the tiniest of blushes.

"I've got eyes," Puck shrugged, holding out his arms as if to give Kurt a better view. "So, you and Finn are-"

"Forget about Finn," Kurt demanded, pushing Puck with one finger back toward his chair. "He told me all about your little bet."

"Oh," Puck frowned, falling back in the chair when Kurt gave him one last shove. It shouldn't be this hot, letting a guy with maybe half the muscle mass Puck had push him around like this, but it totally was. Shit, but now that Kurt knew about the bet, Puck was hosed, wasn't he? "Finn told you?"

"Yes," Kurt replied, looking down at Puck for a long moment before seeming to make up his mind about something and carefully moving forward to straddle Puck's lap. Well, this was certainly a step in the right direction. Feeling the guy's weight settle in his lap, Puck caught his breath and let his hands skirt down the backs of Kurt's obscenely long legs, until they were batted away. Tilting his head as he watched Puck's face and then traced down the side of it with one finger, Kurt said, his voice high and breathy, and somehow low at the same time, "I think I know why you took this bet."

Refusing to be struck speechless by the beautiful boy in his lap, Puck replied thickly, "Yeah? Why's that?"

Okay, so Kurt had no idea what he was doing, and yet it seemed to be working. Puck was almost trembling beneath Kurt's thighs, obviously turned on, and that told Kurt everything he needed to know. Puck wasn't some straight guy, just looking to take a walk on the wild-side during college. Kurt might not have been very experienced, but he wasn't naive, either. He'd heard the stories his friends told about one-night stands and drunken hook-ups and had always come down on the side of being grateful that he had a steady boyfriend to save him from all that bullshit.

But Kurt got tired of being saved. He got tired of living in Blaine's shadow and even if this cost him that part in the summer musical, Kurt needed something more.

Answering Puck's question, Kurt stroked his hand back through the boy's (delightfully clean) strip of hair and then whispered in his ear, "Because you really, really want me, don't you?"

Kurt felt vindicated and more than a little powerful when Puck groaned low in his throat and nodded, hands chasing upward to land on Kurt's ass, kneading with so much want that Kurt almost lost control and shuddered into it. He almost rolled his hips forward and pressed his lips to Puck's to just give him that make out session he needed.

But that wasn't part of the plan. (Okay, so he was sort of making up the plan as he went. What could Kurt say? He was gifted at improvisation.)

Taking both of Puck's wrists in his grip, Kurt removed Puck's hands from his behind and set them against the football player's chest. With a smirk, Kurt kissed the tip of Puck's nose and said, "You didn't think I would make this that easy for you, did you?"

He almost cackled with how quickly Puck's face fell, and maybe he would have if the guy didn't look so pitifully disappointed. Getting up out of Puck's lap, Kurt bent forward and looked directly in his eyes as he said, "I like musical theater, Italian food, dancing, and fashion. And I demand at least two dates, in public, before I agree to making out with you. Got it?"

Wide-eyed, Puck nodded and Kurt couldn't help but take pity on him and close the distance between them, giving him a light, chaste, kiss on the lips and trying not to let the delicious smell of Puck's skin weaken his knees. "Finn can tell you how to contact me. Until later, then," Kurt saluted with a smile, re-wrapping his scarf as he left the dorm room and wondering exactly how much time was going to pass before he got a call from the running back, begging for a date.

Oh, and he should probably break up with Blaine before Puckerman called. If a few touches and kisses from this new guy had Kurt blushing from his ears down to his toes (though he was sure he hid it well), then his relationship with Blaine was already dead, and Kurt was the only one of the two of them who knew it.