It's a probable concept that everyone has some sort of decoration in their lockers. Among the small smattering of graffiti that's bound to be there and gum that couldn't be scraped off and would forever leave a grey smear on the metal, a lot of students at McKinley had little photographs in there, or, at the very most, a modest collage. It was even rumored that Rachel Berry had gone so far as to have a calendar of herself and Finn as cats, grinning manically out at passing students through the tiny slits in the locker, but Kurt considered that to be far too painful to speak about, let alone think.

However, here he was: stranded at his locker, trying to take out his books discretely while Noah Puckerman held the door open with the aide of his freakishly large biceps and commented on his décor as, "Yo, that's some Rachel shit going on in there. You need to tell me something?"

"I never knew you were such a gentleman, Puck," Kurt said acerbically as he attempted to wrestle out a copy of The Importance of Being Earnest, "Forgive me for never noticing, as you always seemed to be preparing to throw me into a dumpster."

Puck waved away the biting remark. "What fucking ever, I apologized for that, like, centuries ago." Let it be known that Puck's version of a heartfelt apology was muttering incoherently on the floor, slapping the victim roughly in the arm, and then saying something like we good now, douchefuck? In the case of Kurt, Puck had opted 'douchefuck' for 'Captain Homo' and stuck him in the headlock. It was highly likely that Kurt was traumatized for life. But whatever.

"So, like, since Finn's now your step-brother and Finn's my main man, my homes, my broski-with-a-brew ski, this sort of makes you like my brother." Puck said, kicking the play to the side. He paused. "I mean, like my shiksa brother because you're not Jewish. You're all goy and shit."

"Excuse me?" Kurt snapped, because honestly, he thought they'd moved on from the gay panic crises and other cumbersome things.

But Puck rolled his eyes, "Goy, you fucking special. A non-Jew." and peered into the colorful abyss that was Kurt Hummel's locker. There were several pictures of the shorter boy and Mercedes, looking almost indecently happy, as well as photos of the glee club at Regionals and at holiday events. It was like a creepy shrine to Kurt's friends, and aw, bless his heart, Puck could almost feel himself warming up to his brother-from-another-mother, even though he was "all goy and shit".

Except like that obviously school-picture-print out of some kid that he'd never seen before (he would've recognized him 'cause dude, that kid's mouth was bigger than Sam's) was kind of making him feel less "Aw, Kurt, you love us so much" and more "Aw, Kurt, you're a fucking stalker and a weirdo". And then he remembered that since Kurt was gay and didn't have a picture like that of himself or Artie or Mike- all blown up and framed- it was probably his boyfriend or something. Or someone that he wished was his boyfriend. Puck kind of hoped it was the first one, because he didn't want some pining loser to be his brother or anything.

No sibling of Puckerman's would be some weirdo who couldn't get into his love object's pants. He had a reputation to uphold. "Listen, Kurt," Puck said, nudging the boy's side just a little with his foot and ignoring the squeaks he was getting by leaving sneaker prints all over his Versace sweater vest ensemble, "you even wanna get down to business, you just tell your little butt-buddy up there that you are the best goddamn thing out there and so is he, and that whole 'opposites attract' theory is bullshit and you should continue to prove it wrong by getting naked. Schlong or So Long. Best way to get to it."

Kurt looked like he was going to pass out. "Were you dropped on the head as a child? That's disgusting!"

"Oh, you say that now, young grasshopper," said Puckerman, "but you will learn. Just one of the many skills you'll learn, now that we have blood-ties and shit."

Oh. This was Noah Puckerman trying to be affectionate. A milestone! He wished he had a camera.

"But like seriously, you need to get rid of that shrine you got going on for your fellow queer sexual. That's some Helga Pataki shit right there."