Chapter 4

By Gayforkurt

Summary: After Kurt's breakup with Blaine over the summer, he does something stupid. Now he's in New York and his life isn't going quite the way he'd expected. This is Rated M for language and potential boy/boy situations just to be safe. COMPLETE!

A/N 1: Thank you, thank you, all! I've enjoyed the comments and feedback and hope you'll stay with me for further adventures in fanficdom. LLAP.

Disclaimer: As we all know, my name is neither Murphy, nor Falchuck, etc., etc.

Puck stared at his former schoolmate, the boy he had stupidly given his heart to and knew he had hurt him… again.

Kurt jerked as he felt someone come up behind him and he let out the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. Despite the warmth and humidity of the club, he felt cold and he shuddered, unable to tear his eyes away from Puck and the groupie.

Now he realised it was tall, blond, gorgeous Michael standing behind him and he quickly recovered his equilibrium. Without moving his eyes from the two making a spectacle of themselves, he allowed a little smirk to play over his lips. He didn't turn to face Michael, he just leaned back, lowering his eyelashes slightly. Then he lifted his chin seductively, tilting his head back against Michael's shoulder and anyone watching them (read Puck) would see the intimacy in his action. He whispered something and he and Michael laughed quietly before he gave Puck his back and stalked towards his waiting friends.

Puck, pulling back from the dazed girl, stared at where Michael now had his hand on Kurt's pert backside as the two threaded their way between a couple of tables and back to their friends. Puck didn't know what had made him deepen the kiss with the girl but as he'd seen Kurt staring at him with those wide blue eyes, he'd wanted him to know what he was missing out on.

Well, apparently from what he'd just seen, Kurt didn't seem to be missing out on anything. Damn!

His chest felt tight as he watched Kurt walk off with the blond guy and he barely felt it as the girl stuck a piece of paper, presumably with her number on it, into his lax hand. The air in the club felt too close, too stifling all of a sudden and without a word to the girl or her friends he moved towards the exit, anxious to get out into fresher air.

Kurt watched Puck leave the club and despite the pain in his chest, he turned a laughing, carefree face back to his friends, asking loudly where his drink was. Everyone whooped and ordered more, a couple of the guys bringing out their bottles and the night of fun continued.

End Flashback

Now, here they were, weeks after that almost-incident and neither of them had said anything. Kurt had dated Michael a few times and he'd had fun. It hadn't gone beyond a few heated kisses and one epic groping session because Kurt was afraid. He would never admit that he was afraid that, if he had sex, he would end up calling a name he didn't want to think about.

Every time he and Puck met for fittings, the tension within them seemed to have wound a bit tighter. Kurt almost always left the encounter with a headache but he never let it show.

Puck's face was always devoid of any sign of humour or even interest in the clothes that were being designed for him to model and he never asked Kurt anything. As Kurt finished with the hem of the final pair of slacks, he unconsciously sighed and for the first time, Puck looked at him.

Kurt, despite the air of professionalism he held like armour about himself, looked strained. He looked brittle, as if he would break if something unplanned happened and Puck knew deep down he was to blame.

Stepping down from the little stool where he'd stood like a flesh-and-blood mannequin for nearly an hour, he looked at Kurt again from beneath his lashes.

Kurt, unaware that he was being observed, had slumped slightly as he put away the paraphernalia that had gathered about him like multiplying tribbles. As he bent down to clear up the bits of fabric that lay about the workroom he suddenly swayed, his hand reaching out to grab a work table that wasn't close enough.

"Kurt!"

As the deathly pale boy crumpled to the floor, Puck lunged forward in time to prevent him from hitting the floor head first. Puck slid down as well but managed to gently lower Kurt's unconscious body to the floor. His heart hammered in his chest as he stared at the pale, delicate face and he was afraid. He'd never seen someone faint before and he tried to remember everything he'd learned in class and done in their practicals.

He made sure Kurt's legs were elevated (using his own backpack) and then, unable to help himself, he patted one ashen cheek, praying beneath his breath and begging Kurt to wake up. Just as he was about to loosen the snug, stylish jacket that the diva was wearing, he started to stir, a faint muttering coming from the bloodless lips.

Kurt felt someone patting his cheek and for a moment he thought it was his dad. He realised it couldn't be Burt, though, and he asked himself where he was, not realising he was vocalising. Suddenly he sat up, only to moan as nausea hit him and subsided again.

"Stay still a bit, you fainted," Puck said softly. "I'm going to get you some water."

Kurt, painfully embarrassed at his weakness in front of the one person he didn't want to see him in such a state, stopped him. His voice a little shaky, he shook his head.

"No, please, I have a bottle of vitamin water in my locker." He pointed to a bank of lockers situated below the large worktables and Puck nodded, heading for the one Kurt had pointed to.

He found the bottle of virulently red drink and brought it back, opening it and helping Kurt to sit up so he could take sips from it.

After a minute of silence, Kurt glanced up at Puck from beneath his lashes, faint colour returning to his cheeks as he said, "Thanks."

Puck stared at the bowed head and the hand fiddling with the closed cap on the bottle and found he couldn't help himself. Blame it on the tension, blame it on seeing Kurt collapse, blame it on the alignment of the stars, he didn't care. He only knew that one minute his hand had moved to cover Kurt's and the next minute he was kissing him as if they'd never spent a good portion of the school year hating each other.

Kurt made a funny little whimpering sound but then he was kissing Puck back, drinking him in as if it was the kiss and not the electrolytes in the drink that was reviving him.

How long they stayed there neither of them knew but eventually coming up for air, Puck rested his forehead against Kurt's and whispered, "I'm so sorry…"

Tears dampened Kurt's lashes but he smiled tremulously, lowering his lids abashedly and shook his head. "No, please, I – I'm the one who's sorry, okay?"

Puck nodded and then he stood, holding his hand out for Kurt to take it and he pulled him to his feet and into his arms. He buried his face in Kurt's neck, inhaling deeply and letting out a huge sigh. He was exhausted but contented and when Kurt turned his head to place a soft kiss against his neck, he shuddered.

Stepping back, he looked down at Kurt and narrowed his eyes. "Tell me you actually had lunch today and not just one of your famous coffee drinks?"

Kurt flushed and stared at him, wide-eyed. "You know about my coffee addiction?"

Puck realised he could get used to Kurt looking at him like that and moved closer to the other teen. He slid his hands around to rest just at the top of the curve of Kurt's backside and pulled him closer. He whispered huskily, "I know a lot about you, babe…"

The colour deepened in the smooth cheeks again but this time Kurt didn't look down or away. He lifted his chin and Puck, unable to resist the invitation, took those soft pink lips again, parting them and setting up house in the hot, sweet mouth.

When Kurt swayed again, Puck pulled back reluctantly, his pupils blown and his own lips slightly puffy. He frowned though and privately chastised himself. Here Kurt was probably dying for something to eat and he couldn't control himself.

"Come, let's get something in you…" and looked wide-eyed at Kurt as the other teen made a choking sound. "Oh for crying out… I meant food!"

Kurt's laughter led the way as they headed out of the workroom, Kurt locking up and joining him as they waited on the lift to take them downstairs and hopefully to find some food.

Two hours later, Kurt found himself up against his bedroom door, a hot and horny Noah Puckerman attached to his neck like a limpet.

"Oh, god, Puck… please," he whimpered, his jeans unbearably tight as he writhed between the wood of the door and Puck's hard body. "Let me…" he broke off as he yanked at Puck's tee-shirt.

The tanned teen stepped back, panting and pulled the tee-shirt off in one swift move, his dark eyes homing back in on Kurt's mouth but when he made a move forward, Kurt stopped him.

"I think we are way too overdressed for what I have in mind," Kurt breathed, his voice hoarser than Puck had ever heard it. Puck shuddered at the heated look in the beautiful blue eyes and he groaned as he palmed himself. He nodded and stepped back, his hands dropping to his belt buckle and yanking it open, all while staring at an unmoving Kurt.

"Well," he raised one eyebrow at the flushed teen staring at him. He knew his body was fantastic and the way Kurt was devouring him with his eyes was a huge turn-on but still, he wanted that boy naked and on the bed like now!

Kurt gulped and nodded, a strangely shy expression coming over his face as his eyes dropped to the huge bulge in Puck's jeans. He licked his lips and then stepped away from the door towards his bed, his own hands pulling quickly at all the fastenings on his stylish jacket. For once he hated that he had on so many layers because he could hardly breathe with anticipation of getting Puck where he wanted him.

A soft chuckle came from behind him and he turned, slipping the jacket down his arms before placing it over the back of his desk chair. He looked at Puck who was down to just his boxer briefs and his eyes widened. Blaine hadn't been small but what Puck was packing was seriously intimidating.

They came together and Puck gently removed the rest of Kurt's clothing until he was naked and trembling before him. He knew Kurt wasn't a virgin but he wrapped him up in his arms, cradling him so gently that Kurt unconsciously relaxed and smiled up at him.

"Noah," he breathed, his lips barely brushing the other boy's, "love me?"

Noah stifled a groan and then – he hated to admit it later – practically fell on Kurt, devouring him with his lips and his hands. They fell backward onto Kurt's bed and he swallowed the soft little gasp the diva let out.

"Kurt, Kurt…" he couldn't help it as he ground down on the slender body writhing beneath his and proceeded to make love to him. They grappled and fought each other, laughing and breathless, kissing and biting at hot skin and yielding flesh. When Noah sank into him for the first time, Kurt's cry was swallowed hungrily as he clenched around the welcome flesh.

Kurt was no pliant, docile lover and he made Noah work for his pleasure, his long, strong legs wrapped tightly around the muscular waist. Noah felt as if he were ablaze, as if his body couldn't hold the massive surge of pleasure and he cried out too when he fell, Kurt's name echoing around the room.

Finally, with Kurt's come and softened cock sliding between their muscular stomachs, Noah blinked away tears he pretended was sweat. Their breaths mingled as they panted, struggling to recover and they stared into each other's eyes, no shame there as they silently admitted their folly in waiting so long for this.

Noah, staring down at the beautiful boy lying flushed and panting beneath him, marveled how all the previous months' tension had simply disappeared. He didn't care where it had gone; he just hoped that Kurt would give them, this relationship a chance. If those kisses in the workroom were any indication, Kurt had deeper feelings than he'd been willing to show and Noah would use any opportunity now to show Kurt that they were, indeed, meant to be together…

… And to think it had all started because Blaine Anderson was too stupid to know a good thing when he had it. Well, Naomi Puckerman had raised no fool and he would hang onto Kurt; he would let him know just what a prize Kurt Hummel was to him.

The End

A/N 2: I hope this pleased you all to read as it did for me to write. Thanks for reading!