A/N: This was written for one of ice-whisper's (AnimeGirl) prompts on the LJ Puckurt fic meme, and will be posted there when LJ stops being stupid.

Title: The Rest is History

"I don't know about this, babe," Kurt's husband said as he parked their rental car and looked down at his suit. "I look like a douche. No one's gonna recognize me."

"You do not," Kurt replied, flipping closed the visor mirror in front of him after checking his appearance one last time. "You look amazing, Noah. Are you or are you not wearing a suit from your new fall collection?" Kurt opened his door and gave his husband a long look. "I mean it. Everyone's going to be stunned."

"Because I look like a douche," Noah insisted, loosening his tie. "Sure this would be fine for any party back in Chicago, but for Lima? Can't I just lose the tie?"

Kurt laughed, "No," and got out of the car, effectively ending the discussion until he rounded the vehicle and pulled Noah out of the car by one hand. "I know you designed this one to be worn with a tie. I saw the sketches, remember?" Noah shrugged, and Kurt knew this wasn't just about a tie, so he insisted, "I'm so proud of you, honey. Can't you wear one of your own creations, just for one night? For me?"

Kurt knew it was working when Noah's displeased expression melted away into something more … Kurt couldn't say whether he'd call the expression loving or guilty, but either way, it had the same result. "Yeah, okay, babe. For you."

Kurt let the smile he'd been holding back break across his face as he leaned forward into the well-worn habit of kissing his husband quickly – in hello, in goodbye, just because, and this time in thanks. Taking the man's bigger hand into his own, Kurt gently pulled Noah toward William McKinley High School, which looked almost the same as it had ten years earlier, when they graduated. Or, when Kurt graduated and Noah had to stay for summer school, just to finish things up before he could actually graduate, not that Kurt had known that at the time.

"I can't believe it's been so long since I talked to anyone besides Finn," Kurt mused as he watched someone who he thought had to be Azimio follow a woman into the school. "I can't wait to see Mercedes."

"Dude," Noah pointed out, ducking his head, like he didn't want Azimio to see him, "you talk to Mercedes all the time."

"I talk to her online," Kurt explained, tugging Noah closer and giving him a look asking him to shape up and stop embarrassing Kurt. "We say hello, how are you, things like that. She may know that we're married, but I doubt she even knows about the shop. I know she doesn't know about your job."

"Really?" Noah asked, stopping them for a moment by tugging on Kurt's hand in his. "I would have thought you'd told her by now. I mean … you said you weren't jealous."

Kurt rolled his eyes. They were back to this now? "I'm not, sweetie," Kurt assured his husband, kissing Noah again. "I'm perfectly happy with my job. It may not be as glamorous as yours, but at least I can be my own boss and have bitch-fits without risking unemployment. I had my shot, baby, I'm not going to begrudge you yours."

Noah appeared to think about this for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Okay. We can do this."

"Of course we can," Kurt replied with an encouraging smile. "We're the Hummel-Puckermans! We can do anything."

"Fuck yeah, we can!" Noah laughed, throwing his arm around Kurt's shoulders and leading them forward again. "I bet, besides Rachel fucking Berry, we're the two most successful people at this reunion. They should be paying us to show up here."

Kurt laughed and agreed, stepping out from Noah's arm when they got to the doors and had to split up. Right away in the lobby sat a table, covered in white and red table cloths and manned by none other than Sam Evans.

"Hey, guys!" he cried, standing up out of his chair and rounding the table so he could hug first Puck and then Kurt quickly. "What are the chances that you two would be the first two of the old glee club to show up? What did you ride together?"

Kurt smiled over at his husband, since it was clear Sam had no idea he and Noah were together, and had been together for nine of the ten years since graduation. "Yes," Kurt replied, laying a flirty hand on Noah's arm. "Noah needed a ride, and I had a rental, so I figured why not? It's better than relying on Finn for anything."

"So, how's it going?" Sam asked, taking a few steps back to pick their nametags up off the table and hand them over. "Where are you living? Kurt?"

"Chicago," Kurt replied, frowning at the sticky backing of his nametag. Helena was going to have a hell of a time getting the glue off when he dropped his jacket off for dry cleaning. And yes, Kurt had retained the practice of knowing his dry cleaner by name, even if these days he tended to machine washable.

"What about you, Puck?" Sam asked, handing each of them what looked like a raffle ticket and a ballot.

Noah sort of coughed as he replied, "Chicago," slapping his nametag on and winking at Kurt over Sam's shoulder.

"Wow!" Sam smiled. "Both in Chicago! What are the chances?"

"I'd say pretty good," Kurt replied, linking his arm with Noah's and leading him toward the gymnasium, saying over his shoulder, "seeing as we're married."

Noah looked back over their shoulders and chuckled at Sam's stunned expression before opening the door for Kurt and following closely behind into the wall of music, so very reminiscent of their high school years.

The gym was decked out in a marine theme, which Kurt supposed was better than tropical or something, except that mermaid over in the corner looked a lot like Brittany Pierce. "Is that…?" Kurt asked, pointing to the girl, who sat up straighter on her coral reef and waved.

"Yeah," Noah replied in Kurt's ear, his voice sending a shiver all over Kurt's body. "Yeah, that's her. Think we should say hi?"

"Absolutely," Kurt replied, taking Noah's hand and letting his husband guide them through the very thin crowd of maybe twenty people that had already arrived. When they got there, Kurt called, "Hello!" over the music, basking in the warmth of the woman's smile. She looked just as good as ever in her mermaid tail and clam-shell bra, and Kurt wondered how she'd kept in such great shape. "It's so good to see you, Britt!"

"You too, Kurtie!" the blonde replied, pulling him into a hug before releasing him and turning to Noah. "And Puck! Come here and hug me, you! I can't exactly get up."

Noah threw Kurt a look but did as Brittany asked, clearing his throat and pulling away when the woman's hand squeezed his behind. "Hi, Brittany," Noah nodded, stepping back to practically hide behind Kurt. Noah had never been this uncomfortable around a woman, and Kurt found it more than a little amusing.

"Brittany?" Kurt spoke up slowly, patting Noah's hand on his arm. "Can I ask why you're dressed in costume?"

The blonde shrugged, and said, "Because Santana said she'd pay for my plane ticket if I agreed to do this. She's on the decorating committee, I think."

"Where did you fly in from?" Noah asked, still hiding behind Kurt.

"LA," Brittany replied. "Mike Chang and I run a dance studio. Well, Mike runs it. I teach there."

"Oh?" Kurt asked with a smile. That seemed to fit his two classmates perfectly. "Are you two … together?"

"Oh, no," she laughed, readjusting her clamshells in a way that made Noah clear his throat again and whisper to Kurt that he was going in search of alcohol. "Mike married this girl he met in college. They have two Asian kids and a house. Her name is Tina, I think."

"Not Tina Cohen-Chang?"

"No," Brittany shook her head. "This Tina has short hair."

Kurt nodded and decided he'd have a better chance of getting the whole story from someone else, so he waved a quick, "See you later," and turned on his heel, searching the room for Noah, but he found Mercedes (wearing an fabulously tailored sundress) instead.

The moment he saw his old best friend, Kurt couldn't help but squeal. He felt only slightly vindicated when she did the same, running toward him and enveloping him in a squealing, jumping hug. "Baby boy! How are you?"

"Excellent," he laughed, finally able to breathe once she let him go. "And yourself?"

"Better than," she replied, turning around and waving someone over. "I want you to meet my fiancée! Kurt, this is Dylan," she said, pulling a man around their age to her side. He was a little shorter than Kurt, with sandy hair and brown eyes. He looked like movie star and as Mercedes introduced him, saying, "Dylan, this is Kurt! My best friend from high school," Kurt couldn't help but wonder if he was a movie star. Mercedes had been traveling in some very important circles wince landing a role on Broadway a few years back. After Kurt shook Dylan's hand and asked te obligatory questions about his work - Dylan was a writer - Mercedes asked, "Where's your hubby, Kurt? Didn't he come along?"

"Oh, he's here somewhere," Kurt replied, waving his hand toward the growing crowd. "He's searching out drinks."

Mercedes sent her boy off for the same and told Kurt all about New York and her acting career. She had just asked, "What about your job at that fashion studio, Kurt? How's that going?" when Noah found them.

"Actually," Kurt said, smiling at his husband and takin the plastic cup he offered, "I'm no longer the fashion designer in the family. I run an auto shop outside the city. Noah's the fashionista these days."

"Really?" Mercedes asked, her jaw dropping when both Kurt and his husband nodded. "But, but, how? Why? What?"

Puck knew this whole reunion thing was going to be a disaster, but Kurt had convinced him - in very evil and manipulative ways - to come along. Sure, he still had the same face as when he was eighteen, but Puck almost felt like a different person. He'd traded in music school for art school, jeans and t shirts for slacks and blazers, and sleeping with chicks for marrying Kurt Hummel. His high school self would probably punch him in the face. Something told Puck that some of the guys from his old school probably weren't so different from his high school self.

Before he got to the refreshments table, Puck nodded at Azimio, said hello to some guy whose face, but not name, he remembered from the football team, and ran into Artie - literally.

"Hey, sorry, dude," Puck apologized, steadying the guy on his robotic legs. "Nice hardware."

"Puck!" Artie cried, pulling Noah into a tight man hug. "How've you been, buddy? Looking good!"

"Yeah," Puck laughed, "you, too. What you up to?"

"Livin' large and in charge in Boston!" Artie replied, taking a swig of his longneck and readjusting his glasses. "Should be finishing my doctorate in the next year or so."

"Shit, man," Puck smiled. "That's awesome! So you're gonna what? Cure people?"

"Doctorate in robotics, dude," Artie clarified, pointing to his legs. "Built them myself using predictive algorithms and a little bit of AI. Ooh, I want you to meet my girlfriend!" He waved a short woman with curly hair over, introducing her as, "Sally Phelps, Eco-warrior!"

Puck shrugged and stuck out his hand, saying "Noah Puckerman, textile warrior."

"What does that even mean?" the girl asked with a laugh, brushing her hair back from her face in that flirty way girls tended to do around him. "And is that a wedding ring I spy?"

"Someone tied down the big bad Puckster?" Artie laughed, throwing an arm across her shoulders like he was staking his claim. "What's her name?"

Noah considered making something up to see how long he could keep Artie guessing, but he figured this reunion was all about introducing the new him to his old friends and seeing if the two still went together. "Kurt Hummel."

Artie's eyes went wide and Sally asked, "You married a girl named Kurt?" And here Noah thought his high school friend would be done with oblivious chicks after breaking up with Brittany all those years ago.

"When did this happen?" Artie asked, looking around, probably for Kurt, and finding him next to the big black woman who could only be Mercedes Jones. "Wasn't Kurt dating Blaine still after graduation?"

Puck shrugged and said, "I guess Mr. Schuester gave both of us the same applications for college, because we both ended up at SAIC." When Artie gave him a blank look, Puck added, "An art school. In Chicago. I went for Sound – you know, music composition, recording, that crap – but I took this fashion class, 'cause I figured that's where all the fine ladies were." He smiled, remembering that first day of class and Kurt's blushing insistence that he didn't know the crazy jock sitting next to him. "Kurt was there, too. He and Blaine broke up after, like, a week apart."

"And you and Kurt...?"

"Not for almost a year," Puck told the guy, wishing he'd actually made it to the bar before being waylaid like this. "Turns out I rock at fashion design. Dropped music except as a hobby. Kurt and I had this one project together and the rest is history."

"Were you…" Artie asked, and Noah knew he was leaving out the word gay, "… in school? 'Cause I never would have guessed!"

"Never lied about who I was," Noah replied, hating this conversation every time he had it. "Just … Kurt's the one I chose that actually chose me back, you know?"

Artie smiled down at his girlfriend (which was going to take some getting used to; in high school Artie was always looking up at everyone) and said, "Yeah, dude. I know."

Sally smiled back with hearts in her eyes and Noah excused himself, heading back toward his one, and all the strength he felt whenever Kurt was around. When he got there, folding his hand into Kurt's sweaty palm, Mercedes was freaking out about something. Oh, it was the fact that of the two of them, he was the one still in fashion and Kurt was the one running a garage.

"How? Why? What? Puckerman, you have hair?" she gasped, some handsome white dude at her elbow. Ah, he must belong to that rock on her finger.

Noah ran one hand over his head, which he kept closely cropped so it wouldn't curl, but this was easier to keep up with than having to shave it twice a week. Besides, Kurt had banned the Mohawk before he would agree to sleeping together, so Noah had to do something else, though he could still get away with a shampoo faux-hawk in the shower. It made Kurt laugh, so he almost always did it when they were "saving time" and showering together in the mornings. The thought made Noah smile over at his husband and press a kiss to Kurt's amused smile. "Sure, Aretha. Gotta look presentable these days, you know."

"Baby," Mercedes asked, turning to Kurt, "did you somehow replace Puck's personality with a whole new one in the past ten years? I mean, I can see why you would want to…"

Kurt opened his mouth for a comeback, but was interrupted when a spotlight highlighted the stage set up at the end of the gym. God that stage reminded Noah of glee club and performances that usually ended in tears and injuries to the student body. A short figure stepped into the spot, a rhinestoned microphone in her hand, and said, "Hello, William McKinley Class of 2012! I am, as you all should know from my success on stage and screen, Rachel Berry!"

Rachel paused, probably for the light smattering of applause she received, and then went on to say, "Welcome to our ten year reunion! I know I'm excited and you all should be, too! Say hello to old friends, patch up arguments long since forgotten, and have a good time. Our music today is provided by the 2012 Jazz Band Ensemble, as well as Brett York, our classmate and now a local DJ! I was also wondering if I could speak to my cohorts from glee club for a moment, to discuss plans for an impromptu performance. Please meet me below the stage immediately."

Noah rolled his eyes at Kurt, but let his husband drag him over to the stage, followed closely by Mercedes and her guy. Rachel seemed to be there alone; Santana had a guy on her arm, who she shoved away as soon as Brittany hobbled over in her mermaind costume; Mike and Tina were still together; Finn and Quinn stood hand-in-hand, but Puck saw them at holidays so it wasn't a surprise; Sam showed up alone, but wearing a wedding ring; Lauren had a beefy man on her arm, who she introduced as a French guy named Jean-Paul and who Kurt insisted under his breath was hotter than Noah had ever been; and of course Mercedes and her guy and Artie and his girl.

"Welcome, everyone!" Rachel cried, a bit too enthusiastically. "I was wondering if anyone would like to do a rousing performance of 'Loser Like Me'?"

"Doesn't that seem a little inappropriate?" Finn asked, his hand on Quinn's lower back, supporting her very pregnant frame. "I mean, we've all spent so much time out of school, it doesn't really apply."

"Oh, shush," Kurt spoke up with a smile for his stepbrother. "I think it would be fun. We'd have to look up the lyrics and refresh ourselves on the music. Does anyone have the recording Noah made? I know we lost our copies somewhere along the way."

"We?" Mike asked with a confused expression, like he'd just seen Noah and Kurt holding hands and wasn't quite sure what to think about it.

"Oh," Kurt said smiling back at Noah. "We've been living together for what...? Six years?"

"Almost seven," Noah agreed, loving the way his husband looked at him – with love and pride and all that crap. It made Noah feel like he could do anything, including telling all his high school friends, "And we've been married for five."

The fallout lasted about a minute longer than Noah thought it would, but it was understandable. The last most of these people had seen of Puck he was still a womanizing badass bent on becoming a rock star. The last they'd seen of Kurt, he was living his fairytale romance with Blaine. It was like coming back ten years later to find out Mr. Schue had married Coach Sylvester, and only Finn and Mercedes had known before tonight.

"While you're all screwing your heads back on," Kurt continued, giving Noah the smirk that he swore Kurt had learned from him, "we'd also like to announce that while fashion brought us together during college, only Noah is still employed in the field. In fact, he designed both of the suits we're wearing and," Kurt gave his little curtsy that Noah would never, ever admit to thinking was adorable, "I think adulations are in order..."

Sam, Lauren, and Tina clapped, while Santana explained something to Brittany (probably Kurt's vocabulary choices) and everyone else just gave Noah weird looks.

"So, what are you up to these days, Kurt?" Rachel asked, her hands on her hips. "I haven't seen you on any of the Broadway playbills, or anywhere out in Hollywood. If you're no longer in fashion, what are you doing?"

Kurt smiled, but Noah knew it was difficult for him to talk about it. Quitting fashion was the most difficult thing his husband had ever done, and Noah had to fight the urge to stick up for him, especially to Rachel and her big mouth. However, Kurt could never stand anyone fighting his battles for him.

"I," the guy started, squeezing Noah's hand for strength, "now run an auto body shop just down the road from our house. It suits me better than I might have expected." Kurt looked over at Noah then, a double meaning in his eyes and his smile. Shit, the things Kurt could do to him with that smile.

"Well, as long as you're happy," Mercedes shrugged, "then I'm happy."

Murmurs of agreement filtered through the group, so Noah kissed his husband on the cheek and asked, "So are we gonna rock this joint or what?"