WWHPD? by BymagaJones 3/5: Playdate
Aug. 1st, 2013 11:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bymagajones Chapter 2: ...And Effect
Chapter 3: Playdate
Kurt hadn’t been raised to visit someone’s house empty-handed, but he had no idea what to bring to Puck’s house. He figured he’d err on the side of overkill and bought a small vase of flowers for Puck’s mom, some of his more colorful nail polish to do Hannah’s nails, and a couple of Rockstar drinks he’d seen Puck downing from time to time. It wasn’t very healthy, but gifts were supposed to be about giving something the recipient wanted, not necessarily what was good for them.
So that’s how he found himself, standing nervously outside of the Puckerman house, arms filled with stuff. He juggled a bit and rang the bell, taking care not to spill the water in the vase.
He heard some thumping and stepped back, worried that some huge dog would tackle him and drool all over his McQueen jacket. It was dry clean only, and he’d just gotten it in the mail the week before.
Hannah pushed open the doors. “You’re here!” Once again, she threw her arms around his legs.
He was prepared this time and retained his balance without dropping anything in his hands. “Hello, Hannah,” he said on a laugh.
“He can’t walk with you draped over his legs like that,” a woman said, walking up to the door.
Puck’s mom smiled at him, and Kurt could see both children in this woman’s face. While she wasn’t gorgeous, she had a prettiness shared by her children, the large brown eyes, the generous smile, the dark hair. Kurt looked between the two females, realizing that they both had large, gorgeous curls. For the first time, he wondered what Puck’s hair would look like if he grew it out like normal people and got rid of the mohawk.
I’m Naomi, Noah and Hannah’s mom,” she said, holding out her hand.
Kurt paused a moment before gently shoving the vase in her hand. “I’m Kurt, and this is for you.” The pleased look she gave him made him automatically smile back, happy that he’d made the right decision.
“Puck - Noah - mentioned something about fingernail polish, so I brought some of my favorite colors. I thought maybe we could paint your nails after lunch if you wanted,” he said, staring down at Hannah.
“What colors did you bring?” She asked, excited.
“Let him in, and maybe he can show you,” Mrs. Puckerman said, humor in her voice.
Kurt’s first impression of the house was that while small, it seemed comfortable and lived-in. Hannah grabbed his free arm and pulled him to the sofa. “Show me?”
“Sure.” Kurt sat down, placing the Rockstars on the floor before unslinging the cosmetic bag from his shoulder. He placed it on the coffee table and unzipped one side, opening the flap to show Hannah her choices. “We can do whatever you want. Each finger can be different color, and we can do your toenails as well. I have little stickers we can put on the nails afterwards too if you want.”
“Ooh!” Hannah said, fingers hovering over the nail polish. She stopped and looked at him. “Can I touch them?”
Kurt couldn’t help but laugh. “Help yourself. Let’s just wait to open them until after lunch, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, sliding on the floor so she could get a better look at the bottles. A few seconds later, Kurt figured that she’d forgotten he was there, so he grabbed Puck’s drinks and headed toward the kitchen-type noises.
He walked in as Mrs. Puckerman pulled a pan out of the oven. “Do you need any help with anything?”
Gasping, she placed the pan on the stovetop and placed a mitt-covered hand over chest. “You scared me!”
“I’m sorry,” Kurt said.
“It’s fine. My two sound like a herd of elephants; I’m just not used to someone graceful being in the house.”
“I was just wondering if I could help you with anything.” He saw her glance behind him and explained, “Hannah’s fallen in love with my nail polish collection. She’s trying to decide what colors she likes best. I have some fabulous shades in there, so she’s going to be occupied for a while.”
“You’re my guest,” Mrs. Puckerman said. “That means that you don’t raise a finger.” She gestured toward the kitchen table. “You can keep me company if you want, though. Would you like something to drink?” She looked down at the drinks in his hand.
“These are for Puck,” Kurt said, suddenly feeling a little awkward. He knew that most guys didn’t bring presents for other guys, but it hadn’t felt right to get something for Puck’s mom and sister and not bring something for him as well. “Where is he, by the way?”
Mrs. Puckerman rolled her eyes. “He’s off somewhere with Finn and Matt.”
“Oh.” Kurt didn’t know why he felt disappointed. Part of him had been hoping that Puck would be out so the whole playdate thing would be much more relaxed, and Kurt wouldn’t have to worry about doing or saying anything that Puck would make him pay for later. Evidently a smaller part of him, one he hadn’t even realized existed, had been looking forward to seeing him. That totally confused Kurt, so he just willed away the feeling. “Well, I’ll just leave them here, then.” He set them down on the corner of the counter and took a seat at the table. Taking a breath before putting on his charming man-about-town face, he said, “So, do you know what color do you want your nails painted after lunch?”
++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++
“Dude, he totally got by you!” Mike complained after Finn had easily dodged past Puck and executed a perfectly lame layup that still managed to put the ball in the hoop.
Disgusted, Puck wiped his face with the bottom of his t-shirt. He’d been playing shitty all morning, and he knew why. As much as he tried to focus on the game and hanging with his buds, his mind kept wandering back to his house, wondering how things were going with Kurt. Waking up this morning, he’d come up with the brilliant idea of just not being there when Kurt arrived. He’d called the guys, who of course had nothing going on, and they’d met at the basketball court at school. Usually by this time, Puck and Mike would have Finn and and Matt panting on the ground. Instead, they were two games behind.
Mike grabbed the ball and bounced it over. “What’s going on?”
“Puck’s avoiding his house because Hannah invited Kurt over for lunch,” Finn said, smiling as he tried to catch his breath.
“Wait - wasn’t that the lunch you owed him after he slammed you yesterday at the arcade?” Matt asked. “How’d you manage to get out of that?” He looked impressed.
“He left the house early this morning,” Finn answered.
“Dude, my mouth totally works,” Puck complained, although he wasn’t really upset. He was starting to feel a little guilty, both for sticking his mom and sister with Kurt and for leaving Kurt all alone with them, although, to be fair, Kurt was probably having more fun with them than he would’ve had out on the basketball court. “Maybe I should head back there, make sure everything’s okay.” He jogged over to the side of the court and grabbed his half-empty Rockstar and sweatshirt. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Already into a three-way game of horse, they acknowledged his departure with vague waves.
Five minutes later, key in the lock, he took a deep breath, braced himself, and opened the door to hear… singing? He recognized the voice; it was Hummel singing about washing a man right out of his hair. Puck couldn’t help his snort as he quietly closed the door and slipped into the kitchen. He’d finished his Rockstar before he’d even gotten into the truck, downed the water he’d left in the passenger seat, and was wishing he’d stopped by the quickie mart to stock up when he saw the two cans shoved in the corner of the counter. Frowning, he tried to remember buying them - there was no way his mom was going to pony up that kind of money for energy drinks she said he shouldn’t even be consuming - but gave up and grabbed one. Quietly popping the top, he walked over to the doorway and stood there in the kitchen, listening to Hummel sing.
Sure, he sounded like a woman, but his voice rang so clear; the lack of music only emphasized his sweet voice. Puck could see enough in the room to know that Kurt was doing some sort of dance as he sang, but Puck could only see Kurt’s back.
You can't light a fire when the woods are wet,
No!
You can't make a butterfly strong,
Hmm, hmm!
You can't fix an egg when it ain't quite good,
And you can't fix a man when he's wrong!
You can't put back a petal when it falls from a flower,
Or sweeten up a fellow when he starts turnin' sour
Oh no! Oh no!
Kurt suddenly stopped singing, and Hannah started giggling, Kurt and Puck’s mom’s laughter joining hers after a few seconds.
“You’re gonna mess up my toenails!” Hannah complained.
“If I do, I’ll fix it,” Kurt promised.
Curious, Puck walked to the doorway, leaning against it as he watched Kurt posture and dance, every so often running to Hannah and tickling her.
With his barriers dropped, Kurt seemed almost younger, definitely lighter.
If his eyes get dull and fishy,
When you look for glints and gleams,
Waste no time,
Make a switch,
Drop him in the nearest ditch!
Oho! Oho!
I went to wash that man right outa my hair,
I went to wash that man right outa my hair,
I went to wash that man right outa my hair,
And sent him on his way.
And send him on his waaay!
Kurt spun around with a flourish, stumbling when he caught a glimpse of Puck.
Puck remained where he was and smiled. “Hey.”
Suddenly, the light-hearted, youthful Kurt gathered up his armour and transformed into some sort of robot, smoothing this hair and offering a brittle smile, one with so much more distance and fake than the one he’d thrown to Puck’s family. “I thought you were out with your friends.”
“A guy can only play so much basketball,” he lied, taking a sip of his drink.
Kurt’s eyes followed his hand as he did it, and Puck wondered about the strange look on the guy’s face. “What?”
“Nothing!” Kurt said a little too quickly before turning back into the room.
“Are you hungry?” Puck’s mom seemed to appear from nowhere, but Puck was used to it.
“I could eat,” he said.
They were distracted when Kurt, large black bag slung over his shoulder, walked toward Puck’s mom. “Thank you for lunch, Naomi. It was wonderful.”
She smiled. “Thank you for the flowers - and the hand massage!” She wiggled her fingers at Kurt, pausing before giving him an impromptu hug.
From his point of view, Puck could see Kurt’s hesitation, then his eyes close briefly as he hugged Puck’s mom back. Puck seemed to remember that Kurt’s mom wasn’t around, but he didn’t know the story. He wondered how it must feel to have a mom-like woman hug you after so many years being without. Kurt’s momentarily lowering of his guard only served to make him that much more human than he’d been before. Damnit.
They pulled away, and Kurt readjusted the bag on his shoulder before giving Puck a nod and walking outside.
Puck pulled away from the wall and followed his mom into the kitchen. “So, what’d you make?”
“I made my spaghetti, but Kurt added a few things and definitely bumped it up a notch,” she said, making him a plate. “He also did this great thing with the bread.”
Puck looked around the room, trying to imagine Hummel working in it comfortably. It gave him a strange feeling, so he decided to just let it go and concentrate on his food, which turned out to be quite a bit better than he’d expected. “This is good.” He grabbed some bread and found that pretty awesome too.
His mom passed by him, and he snagged her hand. “What’s going on here?”
“Aren’t they nice?” Puck was surprised to find her nails coated with a nice clear polish that seemed to sparkle when she wiggled her fingers. “Kurt thought that I should go with this since I’m a nurse. He gave me a heavenly hand massage up to my elbows. I almost fell asleep on him!”
“What color did Hannah get?” He mumbled around his food.
“She went a bit bolder than I did,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re going to have to see them - and her toes. Speaking of Hannah, where is she?” His mom looked around, her gaze softening when she looked out of the front door. “Noah, come here.”
Plate and fork in hand, Puck stood beside his mother. Hummel and Hannah sat on the top stair of the porch, their backs facing Puck and his mom. Evidently, they were talking about something pretty serious, and Hannah laid her head on Hummel’s shoulder.
“That’s so sweet,” Puck’s mom said, her hand on her chest. “Oh! Do you have your phone? Take a picture. Hurry!” she added quietly.
Rolling his eyes - inwardly so his mom couldn’t see - he put down his food, fished his phone out of his sweats, and took a picture, showing it to his mom.
She sighed and turned away. “Make sure you send it to me, okay?”
“Sure,” Puck said, watching her put away the food and walk into the living room. He returned his gaze to the two on the porch and wondered what they were discussing. Part of him felt like he should be jealous, like Hummel and his sister were developing this relationship that excluded him. But looking at them sitting there, he knew that they both seemed to be getting something the other needed. Hummel was getting a sister, and, Puck supposed, so was Hannah. Snorting, he picked up his plate and returned to the table.
++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++
Kurt couldn’t describe how it felt when Hannah dropped her head onto his shoulder, and they watched the clouds slowly pass across the sky. It was unseasonably chilly, but it was manageable with them squished against each other, their coats on. She was only eight, yet he felt a connection with her that he’d never felt with any other kids, even when he was eight. He supposed she could be what people called an old soul; she definitely seemed to understand the loneliness he felt. Sure, Mercedes was his girl, but he didn’t think she quite understood how alone he felt. For some reason, Hannah did and shared it, which was strange, since he really didn’t think she was a lesbian or anything. Her only difference seemed to be her love of male-oriented sports, like football and - how did she even know about this? - rugby. She still liked doing girly things, like painting her nails and talking about the cute boy in class, but she just had other interests that drew her attention. Once she got older and learned how to dress and talk differently in school - and he knew she would, because who wouldn’t assimilate to make things easier in high school if they could? - then things would go easier for her, and she and Kurt would no longer have anything in common.
The thought made him a little sad, and he rested his head on top of hers for a moment.
“You’re always so sad,” she told him.
“Not always,” he corrected.
“Always when I see you.”
“I wasn’t sad when I was spending time with you today,” he told her.
“You were sad deep inside your eyes,” she said. “I could tell.”
What could he say to that? She was eight. He wasn’t going to tell her about how his life basically sucked all the time, about how he wanted someone to look at him the way his mom looked at his dad in pictures, about how nice it would be to have someone just want him and maybe love him a little, in a romantic way. He knew he was lucky to have such an awesome dad, but sometimes a person just needed to be held by someone who chose him, not someone who was given this child and kind of had to love him.
“I’m fine,” he finally said. “I’ll be fine.” And he tried to believe it.
Chapter 4: The Big Winner
Master post with chapter breakdown here
Chapter 3: Playdate
Kurt hadn’t been raised to visit someone’s house empty-handed, but he had no idea what to bring to Puck’s house. He figured he’d err on the side of overkill and bought a small vase of flowers for Puck’s mom, some of his more colorful nail polish to do Hannah’s nails, and a couple of Rockstar drinks he’d seen Puck downing from time to time. It wasn’t very healthy, but gifts were supposed to be about giving something the recipient wanted, not necessarily what was good for them.
So that’s how he found himself, standing nervously outside of the Puckerman house, arms filled with stuff. He juggled a bit and rang the bell, taking care not to spill the water in the vase.
He heard some thumping and stepped back, worried that some huge dog would tackle him and drool all over his McQueen jacket. It was dry clean only, and he’d just gotten it in the mail the week before.
Hannah pushed open the doors. “You’re here!” Once again, she threw her arms around his legs.
He was prepared this time and retained his balance without dropping anything in his hands. “Hello, Hannah,” he said on a laugh.
“He can’t walk with you draped over his legs like that,” a woman said, walking up to the door.
Puck’s mom smiled at him, and Kurt could see both children in this woman’s face. While she wasn’t gorgeous, she had a prettiness shared by her children, the large brown eyes, the generous smile, the dark hair. Kurt looked between the two females, realizing that they both had large, gorgeous curls. For the first time, he wondered what Puck’s hair would look like if he grew it out like normal people and got rid of the mohawk.
I’m Naomi, Noah and Hannah’s mom,” she said, holding out her hand.
Kurt paused a moment before gently shoving the vase in her hand. “I’m Kurt, and this is for you.” The pleased look she gave him made him automatically smile back, happy that he’d made the right decision.
“Puck - Noah - mentioned something about fingernail polish, so I brought some of my favorite colors. I thought maybe we could paint your nails after lunch if you wanted,” he said, staring down at Hannah.
“What colors did you bring?” She asked, excited.
“Let him in, and maybe he can show you,” Mrs. Puckerman said, humor in her voice.
Kurt’s first impression of the house was that while small, it seemed comfortable and lived-in. Hannah grabbed his free arm and pulled him to the sofa. “Show me?”
“Sure.” Kurt sat down, placing the Rockstars on the floor before unslinging the cosmetic bag from his shoulder. He placed it on the coffee table and unzipped one side, opening the flap to show Hannah her choices. “We can do whatever you want. Each finger can be different color, and we can do your toenails as well. I have little stickers we can put on the nails afterwards too if you want.”
“Ooh!” Hannah said, fingers hovering over the nail polish. She stopped and looked at him. “Can I touch them?”
Kurt couldn’t help but laugh. “Help yourself. Let’s just wait to open them until after lunch, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, sliding on the floor so she could get a better look at the bottles. A few seconds later, Kurt figured that she’d forgotten he was there, so he grabbed Puck’s drinks and headed toward the kitchen-type noises.
He walked in as Mrs. Puckerman pulled a pan out of the oven. “Do you need any help with anything?”
Gasping, she placed the pan on the stovetop and placed a mitt-covered hand over chest. “You scared me!”
“I’m sorry,” Kurt said.
“It’s fine. My two sound like a herd of elephants; I’m just not used to someone graceful being in the house.”
“I was just wondering if I could help you with anything.” He saw her glance behind him and explained, “Hannah’s fallen in love with my nail polish collection. She’s trying to decide what colors she likes best. I have some fabulous shades in there, so she’s going to be occupied for a while.”
“You’re my guest,” Mrs. Puckerman said. “That means that you don’t raise a finger.” She gestured toward the kitchen table. “You can keep me company if you want, though. Would you like something to drink?” She looked down at the drinks in his hand.
“These are for Puck,” Kurt said, suddenly feeling a little awkward. He knew that most guys didn’t bring presents for other guys, but it hadn’t felt right to get something for Puck’s mom and sister and not bring something for him as well. “Where is he, by the way?”
Mrs. Puckerman rolled her eyes. “He’s off somewhere with Finn and Matt.”
“Oh.” Kurt didn’t know why he felt disappointed. Part of him had been hoping that Puck would be out so the whole playdate thing would be much more relaxed, and Kurt wouldn’t have to worry about doing or saying anything that Puck would make him pay for later. Evidently a smaller part of him, one he hadn’t even realized existed, had been looking forward to seeing him. That totally confused Kurt, so he just willed away the feeling. “Well, I’ll just leave them here, then.” He set them down on the corner of the counter and took a seat at the table. Taking a breath before putting on his charming man-about-town face, he said, “So, do you know what color do you want your nails painted after lunch?”
++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++
“Dude, he totally got by you!” Mike complained after Finn had easily dodged past Puck and executed a perfectly lame layup that still managed to put the ball in the hoop.
Disgusted, Puck wiped his face with the bottom of his t-shirt. He’d been playing shitty all morning, and he knew why. As much as he tried to focus on the game and hanging with his buds, his mind kept wandering back to his house, wondering how things were going with Kurt. Waking up this morning, he’d come up with the brilliant idea of just not being there when Kurt arrived. He’d called the guys, who of course had nothing going on, and they’d met at the basketball court at school. Usually by this time, Puck and Mike would have Finn and and Matt panting on the ground. Instead, they were two games behind.
Mike grabbed the ball and bounced it over. “What’s going on?”
“Puck’s avoiding his house because Hannah invited Kurt over for lunch,” Finn said, smiling as he tried to catch his breath.
“Wait - wasn’t that the lunch you owed him after he slammed you yesterday at the arcade?” Matt asked. “How’d you manage to get out of that?” He looked impressed.
“He left the house early this morning,” Finn answered.
“Dude, my mouth totally works,” Puck complained, although he wasn’t really upset. He was starting to feel a little guilty, both for sticking his mom and sister with Kurt and for leaving Kurt all alone with them, although, to be fair, Kurt was probably having more fun with them than he would’ve had out on the basketball court. “Maybe I should head back there, make sure everything’s okay.” He jogged over to the side of the court and grabbed his half-empty Rockstar and sweatshirt. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Already into a three-way game of horse, they acknowledged his departure with vague waves.
Five minutes later, key in the lock, he took a deep breath, braced himself, and opened the door to hear… singing? He recognized the voice; it was Hummel singing about washing a man right out of his hair. Puck couldn’t help his snort as he quietly closed the door and slipped into the kitchen. He’d finished his Rockstar before he’d even gotten into the truck, downed the water he’d left in the passenger seat, and was wishing he’d stopped by the quickie mart to stock up when he saw the two cans shoved in the corner of the counter. Frowning, he tried to remember buying them - there was no way his mom was going to pony up that kind of money for energy drinks she said he shouldn’t even be consuming - but gave up and grabbed one. Quietly popping the top, he walked over to the doorway and stood there in the kitchen, listening to Hummel sing.
Sure, he sounded like a woman, but his voice rang so clear; the lack of music only emphasized his sweet voice. Puck could see enough in the room to know that Kurt was doing some sort of dance as he sang, but Puck could only see Kurt’s back.
You can't light a fire when the woods are wet,
No!
You can't make a butterfly strong,
Hmm, hmm!
You can't fix an egg when it ain't quite good,
And you can't fix a man when he's wrong!
You can't put back a petal when it falls from a flower,
Or sweeten up a fellow when he starts turnin' sour
Oh no! Oh no!
Kurt suddenly stopped singing, and Hannah started giggling, Kurt and Puck’s mom’s laughter joining hers after a few seconds.
“You’re gonna mess up my toenails!” Hannah complained.
“If I do, I’ll fix it,” Kurt promised.
Curious, Puck walked to the doorway, leaning against it as he watched Kurt posture and dance, every so often running to Hannah and tickling her.
With his barriers dropped, Kurt seemed almost younger, definitely lighter.
If his eyes get dull and fishy,
When you look for glints and gleams,
Waste no time,
Make a switch,
Drop him in the nearest ditch!
Oho! Oho!
I went to wash that man right outa my hair,
I went to wash that man right outa my hair,
I went to wash that man right outa my hair,
And sent him on his way.
And send him on his waaay!
Kurt spun around with a flourish, stumbling when he caught a glimpse of Puck.
Puck remained where he was and smiled. “Hey.”
Suddenly, the light-hearted, youthful Kurt gathered up his armour and transformed into some sort of robot, smoothing this hair and offering a brittle smile, one with so much more distance and fake than the one he’d thrown to Puck’s family. “I thought you were out with your friends.”
“A guy can only play so much basketball,” he lied, taking a sip of his drink.
Kurt’s eyes followed his hand as he did it, and Puck wondered about the strange look on the guy’s face. “What?”
“Nothing!” Kurt said a little too quickly before turning back into the room.
“Are you hungry?” Puck’s mom seemed to appear from nowhere, but Puck was used to it.
“I could eat,” he said.
They were distracted when Kurt, large black bag slung over his shoulder, walked toward Puck’s mom. “Thank you for lunch, Naomi. It was wonderful.”
She smiled. “Thank you for the flowers - and the hand massage!” She wiggled her fingers at Kurt, pausing before giving him an impromptu hug.
From his point of view, Puck could see Kurt’s hesitation, then his eyes close briefly as he hugged Puck’s mom back. Puck seemed to remember that Kurt’s mom wasn’t around, but he didn’t know the story. He wondered how it must feel to have a mom-like woman hug you after so many years being without. Kurt’s momentarily lowering of his guard only served to make him that much more human than he’d been before. Damnit.
They pulled away, and Kurt readjusted the bag on his shoulder before giving Puck a nod and walking outside.
Puck pulled away from the wall and followed his mom into the kitchen. “So, what’d you make?”
“I made my spaghetti, but Kurt added a few things and definitely bumped it up a notch,” she said, making him a plate. “He also did this great thing with the bread.”
Puck looked around the room, trying to imagine Hummel working in it comfortably. It gave him a strange feeling, so he decided to just let it go and concentrate on his food, which turned out to be quite a bit better than he’d expected. “This is good.” He grabbed some bread and found that pretty awesome too.
His mom passed by him, and he snagged her hand. “What’s going on here?”
“Aren’t they nice?” Puck was surprised to find her nails coated with a nice clear polish that seemed to sparkle when she wiggled her fingers. “Kurt thought that I should go with this since I’m a nurse. He gave me a heavenly hand massage up to my elbows. I almost fell asleep on him!”
“What color did Hannah get?” He mumbled around his food.
“She went a bit bolder than I did,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re going to have to see them - and her toes. Speaking of Hannah, where is she?” His mom looked around, her gaze softening when she looked out of the front door. “Noah, come here.”
Plate and fork in hand, Puck stood beside his mother. Hummel and Hannah sat on the top stair of the porch, their backs facing Puck and his mom. Evidently, they were talking about something pretty serious, and Hannah laid her head on Hummel’s shoulder.
“That’s so sweet,” Puck’s mom said, her hand on her chest. “Oh! Do you have your phone? Take a picture. Hurry!” she added quietly.
Rolling his eyes - inwardly so his mom couldn’t see - he put down his food, fished his phone out of his sweats, and took a picture, showing it to his mom.
She sighed and turned away. “Make sure you send it to me, okay?”
“Sure,” Puck said, watching her put away the food and walk into the living room. He returned his gaze to the two on the porch and wondered what they were discussing. Part of him felt like he should be jealous, like Hummel and his sister were developing this relationship that excluded him. But looking at them sitting there, he knew that they both seemed to be getting something the other needed. Hummel was getting a sister, and, Puck supposed, so was Hannah. Snorting, he picked up his plate and returned to the table.
++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++
Kurt couldn’t describe how it felt when Hannah dropped her head onto his shoulder, and they watched the clouds slowly pass across the sky. It was unseasonably chilly, but it was manageable with them squished against each other, their coats on. She was only eight, yet he felt a connection with her that he’d never felt with any other kids, even when he was eight. He supposed she could be what people called an old soul; she definitely seemed to understand the loneliness he felt. Sure, Mercedes was his girl, but he didn’t think she quite understood how alone he felt. For some reason, Hannah did and shared it, which was strange, since he really didn’t think she was a lesbian or anything. Her only difference seemed to be her love of male-oriented sports, like football and - how did she even know about this? - rugby. She still liked doing girly things, like painting her nails and talking about the cute boy in class, but she just had other interests that drew her attention. Once she got older and learned how to dress and talk differently in school - and he knew she would, because who wouldn’t assimilate to make things easier in high school if they could? - then things would go easier for her, and she and Kurt would no longer have anything in common.
The thought made him a little sad, and he rested his head on top of hers for a moment.
“You’re always so sad,” she told him.
“Not always,” he corrected.
“Always when I see you.”
“I wasn’t sad when I was spending time with you today,” he told her.
“You were sad deep inside your eyes,” she said. “I could tell.”
What could he say to that? She was eight. He wasn’t going to tell her about how his life basically sucked all the time, about how he wanted someone to look at him the way his mom looked at his dad in pictures, about how nice it would be to have someone just want him and maybe love him a little, in a romantic way. He knew he was lucky to have such an awesome dad, but sometimes a person just needed to be held by someone who chose him, not someone who was given this child and kind of had to love him.
“I’m fine,” he finally said. “I’ll be fine.” And he tried to believe it.
Chapter 4: The Big Winner
Master post with chapter breakdown here
