Author Note: Hey everyone! This is my first fic on here, so R/R and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Glee is not mine. Yet. *evil cackling*

Kurt thought back to about a month ago, the day it had happened. The day he had met Noah.

Of course, Kurt knew Puck. Everyone knew Puck. Puck was Puck and—as he kept reminding everyone within earshot—Puck was a stud. No one messed with the Puckster. Every day since the first day of ninth grade, Puck had played a major role in his life. But not a role most would assume. For example, Puck was always in the halls constantly body-checking Kurt into the nearest locker and giving him his daily slushie. Puck was always there in the mornings, ready to throw the dreading Kurt into the dumpster. Puck was everywhere.

But Noah wasn't Puck. While he didn't have a split personality disorder, he had trouble letting people in to see who he truly was. And Kurt was thankful for Noah.

It was the day after Father's Day. During the summer, Sue Sylvester insisted on having her cheerios practice for three weeks before letting them off until late July, then starting the squad up again. It was like the military, the way she controlled her team. Similarly, while Tanaka really had no interest for the football team, he still held yearly summer scouting and placing for the freshmen and ordered the older players to assist with tryouts.

Cheerios practice had ended early, so Kurt was getting all his junk together to begin heading home. Heading to the bench where he had placed his cheer bag, Brittany and Santana behind him were whispering about Rachel's disgusting outfit that day. Quickly joining in, he said, "Rachel looked like a banana. All that yellow was enough to make me vomit in my mouth." The two girls snickered and agreed. Remarks about Rachel's past outfits continued as the trio packed their bags.

As he was packing up his bag, he remembered something. Crap! I left my Gucci scarf in Glee Club! Dad's gonna kill me if I don't arrive home with it in tow. He mentally slapped himself before sighing. To Brit and Santana, he interjected, "Sorry ladies, we'll have to continue this later over text message. I need to go back to the choir room. Ciao." And with that, Kurt turned on his heel as he confidently strode back into the building.

As Kurt arrived just outside the doors to the choir room, he heard a sound. Stopping in his tracks, and listening more carefully, he realized it was coming from inside the room. It sounded as though something had fallen to the ground with a large thud and crack of wood. Gasping, Kurt hurriedly opened the door to find Puck.

On the ground, shattered into three different pieces, was Puck's most prized possession: Puck's guitar. Kurt was horrified and confused, wondering aloud how Puck could destroy his guitar so brutally. Puck only seemed to get angrier at Kurt's mumbling and growled, saying, "Father's Day."

Still perplexed, Kurt said with a baffled expression, "…so you destroyed your guitar?" This made as much sense to Kurt as Brittany's random bursts of stupidity. No offense, Brit. I still love you Kurt silently apologized for calling his friend stupid. But still. He was still gaping at the broken guitar and had eyes so wide it looked like he was popping a blood vessel.

Puck seemed to understand how the situation must look to the Cheerio, and said again, "Father's Day. And…" Here Puck paused as if contemplating telling Hummel everything. After a long silence, he decided to continue. Honestly, Puck knew that Hummel would never repeat any of what happened this afternoon to anyone without the fear of Puck's wrath. So, Puck slowly continued, saying, "and football just reminded me of how much I've missed out on…not having a father, to play catch with, or watch games with, or just…talk to. So I came in here." His eyes looked down at the guitar. In his hand was the neck piece and Puck simply let go of it and let it plop to the ground. The only sound in the room was the echo of its fall and Puck's slow, heavy breathing. Puck turned toward the chairs in the room and sat as though exhausted and drained. He placed his face in his calloused hands and just breathed.

Kurt was still standing near the doorway to the room. No longer staring so bewildered at Puck, he realized how much Puck was hiding from everyone else. Everyone saw Puck as an asshole and a womanizer, but inside, he knew Puck was also really lonely. Kurt could not imagine growing up without his father, the only person he had left. The person who would love him unconditionally, the person who accepted Kurt's true self without question, and the person who he loved so much it hurt. Kurt felt a pang in his heart for Puck. Kurt knew that Mother's Day was a whole different meaning of hell, so he could only imagine spending Father's Day without a father who not only wasn't there, but also didn't care about his only son. Kurt slowly walked to a seat next to Puck.

Not moving, Puck breathed, "I came in here…to sing. I…I mean, this place is like…safe. I can be myself. So I got out my baby and sang…until I…" Puck really didn't want to keep baring his soul to the person he's once thrown pee balloons at. It made him feel even worse, and guilty for his bad choices. It was like the past kept catching up with him. Yet, after a few moments, he knew Kurt would never tell anyone. So he continued with, "I sang until I realized how much like him I am. I'm selfish, a "badass" who doesn't have time for anyone but himself, and the father of a kid who will never really know him." He took a brief pause before ending with, "So I smashed the guitar. And I pretended it was him. I pretended I could show him just how much I hate him." At this confession, which Puck spilled out like word vomit, he lifted his head to see Kurt's reaction to the news. Kurt's face was one of concern and understanding.

Understanding? Puck seemed to reignite the fire that was fueling his rage. "But what the hell do you know about it? You have no idea what it's like, growing up without someone who is supposed to be there forever!" Puck's eyes sent a message of hate toward the countertenor. His voice was furious and booming as it bounced off the choir room walls. But then Kurt met Puck's eyes and Puck immediately softened. Seeing Kurt's eyes well up with tears, Puck wondered why.

"My mother died when I was six." And there was silence.

Kurt seemed so lifeless, sitting there while a few tears started to trickle down his rosy cheeks. All Puck wanted to do was tell him that it wasn't the same, that at least Kurt's mother had wanted him, that at least he had known his mother. But Noah knew what to do.

Noah sat back down, slowly, as if to prevent the smaller teen from running away. He leaned towards Kurt carefully, and cautiously placed his arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry," Noah whispered and tried to tell Kurt just how much. "I didn't know. I shouldn't have assumed anything. Believe me, I know how much it hurts when people do." Kurt nodded carefully at this and turned to Noah.

"I know you didn't know. I forgive you." Kurt, despite the remnants of a tear still at the base of his jaw, still looked worried for Noah's well-being. "I know it's stupid to even ask this, but are you okay?" Noah sighed and realized that telling Kurt everything had really made this day easier to handle.

Noah reassured Kurt, saying, "I'm okay. It's easier with you here. And you know what it's like…without a parent." Kurt nodded again, this time more confidently. "Yeah," Kurt said, "I know."

At that, Noah thought to himself that talking with Kurt wasn't too bad. Kurt was pretty cool. Not knowing he was thinking out loud, Kurt let out a choked laugh and singsonged, "Thanks, you're not so bad yourself, Puckerman." Using his last name, however, sounded like a term of an endearment rather than an insult. So Noah smiled.

Kurt wiped his hands under his eyes once before standing, pulling Noah up with him, and giving him a tentative -but rather large- hug. To Kurt's surprise, Noah hugged back. "I know we didn't really say much," Noah said into Kurt's shoulder, "but I really appreciate you for just listening." Kurt smiled.

Kurt replied, "No problem."

Noah knew how much Kurt had helped him, letting him finally get all that pent up anger off his chest. So, he wanted to return the favor. "Hey, do you wanna come over and play video games?" Kurt thought this notion was completely out of the blue and unexpected. Still, he didn't hesitate to say yes. The pair walked out of the choir room with Puck's arm still around Kurt's shoulders.

"So what games do you like to play?" Noah inquired.

"Well, you're gonna make fun of me for being a pansy or whatever, but I really love Super Mario Brothers. Especially the third one." Kurt said this with a reminiscent smile. Noah practically spat out his response.

"Dude no way! That game's insane! You can't beat the Star Worlds." Kurt beamed at this and answered, "No you can't. It was groundbreaking. And what made up one of the best games to be created in the history of the world."

Noah responded with a squeeze to Kurt's shoulders, saying, "Kurt Hummel, I believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship." And it was.

They spent the night playing video games, playing princess with Noah's little sister, making prank calls to Sue Sylvester, and watching Harry Potter (another secret obsession shared by the two) all night long.

In between Kurt painting Noah's toenails Lavender Breeze and Noah detailing how to be badass like him, Kurt breathed in a false seduction tone, "We should do this again sometime." His eyes were gleaming with mischief, and Noah burst out laughing at his expression and statement. "Of course we will, Princess," Noah replied, referring to the tiara on Kurt's head and a previous discussion about Kurt's Hope Chest.

They both laughed and ignored the calls on their cell phones. (Burt was calling Kurt, and Mercedes was calling Puck). It wasn't until much later that evening that Kurt realized he had forgotten to retrieve his prized scarf. Noah simply shrugged, and told him to stop being such a baby. He was promptly smacked.

They weren't friends. They weren't even acquaintances. But after that fateful day, they would be more than that. They would be best friends.