Barbra Streisand | By : withdemonwings Category: G through L > Glee Views: 1854 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any related characters, and I make no money from this work. |
There wasn’t much in life that Puck was certain of. He was, however, certain that his beloved truck was going to die again.
He was certain that his ma was one questionable phone call from the principle away from shipping his ass out to military school. He was certain that if anyone was getting out of this one cow town it would be either Rachel Berry or Kurt Hummel. Or both. He was certain that of all the things Rachel Berry needed including an attitude adjustment, a new wardrobe that was less toddler/grandma and a better therapist, a nose job was definitely not on that list. She was beautiful as she was. And yes he would admit that, but only on pain of death or until she opened her mouth to fawn over Finn. Again. He was pretty certain he would hurl on whatever animal sweater she had on if she did that again. Not that he should say much about wardrobe, his wasn’t exactly the greatest but it worked for him and it was age appropriate. “Shut. Up. Lopez.” He finally snapped as Rachel fled the room in tears at the Latina’s diatribe about all that was and wasn’t wrong with the girl. “Just because you can’t handle who you are, you don’t have to take it out on the rest us, you self-centered bitch,” Kurt snarled as he snapped up both his and Rachel’s bag before following after the girl. Everyone stared after the soprano in shock, and Puck hoped that no one else noticed the light bulb that had gone off over his head. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who thought Rachel getting a nose job was like the dumbest idea ever. xXxXx “Hummel,” Puck called after Kurt when he found the other teen in the parking lot. Kurt tossed his bag into the back of his Navigator with a sigh, dealing with an emotional Rachel Berry was exhausting, and he just wanted to go home and soak in his tub while he read some bad novel he’d found at the drug store after he spent a few hours working in his dad’s shop. “What is it, Puckerman?” “Your dad’s like this awesome mechanic or something… right?” How much of an idiot did he sound like? He sounded like his eleven year old sister. “I mean, could I bring – Hey, are you okay?” Puck couldn’t help but ask; Kurt looked drained. “I’m fine, Noah,” Kurt stated with a soft grin. “Rachel is an emotional leech, she just takes and takes and takes and leaves you in need of a sensory deprivation tank, a tub of Haagen-Dazs, and Die Hard. And yes, my dad is “like an awesome mechanic.” Puck scowled at the twinkle in Kurt’s eye, “you’re such a cock tease.” “That’s what Blaine says,” Kurt retorted as he climbed into his own truck. Puck gave a surprised laugh, “I didn’t know you had it in you.” “I’ve have a lot of things in me, you don’t know about. Is there something wrong with your death trap?” Kurt asked, eyeing Puck’s truck that was several parking spots over. “What?” Puck blinked stupidly as he stared at Kurt, imagining just what had been in the other teen. “You were asking about my mechanic father. He’ll probably be busy, Steve too, but I don’t think I have any appointments today.” “Appointments?” “Yeah, usually you need to book one when you want someone to look at your car. I don’t usually work today, but after Rachel…” he trailed off as he started his car. “You work at your dad’s garage?” Puck blurted sounding both baffled and impressed. Kurt rolled his eyes before slipping his sunglasses on, and shifting into reverse. “I may be gay, but my father lives for cars. You really don’t think he tried to teach me everything he knew? Besides I’ve heard your truck, it needs to be put out of it’s misery and you want to talk about Berry and her ill-advised nose job that no one seems to care about. Meet me at the garage.” Puck blinked stupidly at Kurt for a minute, before Kurt backed out of the parking spot, almost running over Puck’s foot. A loud honking pulled Puck from his fantasy of mechanic Kurt, man did his ass look fantastic in one of the coveralls they wore, the arms tied around his waist and grease smeared on his cheek. He needed to see that! xXxXx Kurt found his father working on an old Volkswagen when he got to the garage. “I’ll be working on a friend’s car; it’s in bad need of servicing,” he said as he handed his dad a set of needle nose pliers. “Another freebie, kid?” Burt asked with a raised eyebrow as he straightened up and stretched causing his back to crack in several places. “Dad, you were supposed to go-” “She cancelled on me again, I need to find a new therapist,” he sighed, leaning against the hood of the car as Kurt tried to work out the kinks in his back. “Is Puckerman finally bringing his eyesore in?” “Yeah, he wants to talk about something and I needed to work on something before getting Haagen-Dazs and calling Blaine,” he pulled away from Burt, who just pulled Kurt into a tight hug. “If this show biz thing doesn’t work for you, you could always go into massage therapy, but not the dirty kind, the clean, wholesome, family friendly, healing kind,” he mumbled; Kurt seemed to have a natural talent for massage. One Burt shameless exploited when he wanted. “Yeah, yeah,” Kurt rolled his eyes as he pulled himself out of his dad’s arms. “I have to go change,” he said as a clunking, chugging, rattling announced to arrival of Puck and his eyesore. Burt winced. “Please make it better?” the older man asked, giving Kurt a pleading look. Kurt swatted his dad as he gave a laugh, “I’ll do my best.” Giving his dad a quick peck, he bounced off the employee’s only door as Puck slouched into the shop looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “Mr. Hummel,” he greeted. “How many times, kid? It’s Burt.” “Always once more,” Puck replied with a grin. Kurt appeared just then in a royal blue, grease stained coveralls that were opened at the collar to reveal an old black bad t-shirt. “Is that…?” Puck trailed off as he reached to reveal Kurt’s t-shirt. “Zeppelin, it was my dad’s but my mum spilled bleach on it when he did something stupid and I got it to sleep in because neither one could part with it because they got in on their first date,” Kurt finished, as he pulled the coveralls apart to reveal the bleach stained bottom. “Nice,” Puck grinned. “It’s a good look for you.” Kurt scowled, “go get your damn car.” He stormed off to the empty bay at the other end of the garage. Puck pulled into the bay where Kurt stood, with a hand on his cocked hip, as he examined the nails on his other hand. In that brief moment before he looked up, Puck saw what Blaine already knew about Kurt. Yeah, Puck was totally bent for Kurt, and maybe Blaine, but that was okay. It sucked they had each other but Kurt was happy, and as sappy and not badass as it sounded, Puck could live with that, because Kurt deserved a little happiness after all the shit he’d been through. “What?” his wheels had hit the barrier making him stop right in front of Kurt, who was watching him with one raised eyebrow. How did Kurt have the ability to make him stupid? “So Rachel?” Kurt repeated as he popped the hood on the truck. “What about Rachel?” Puck came around to the side to watch Kurt work his mechanic magic. “For the love of Versace, Noah,” he smacked Puck upside the head. “Will you please come back to this planet? I know you’re not that much of idiot. I know you think this nose job is a bad idea.” “Ha! I knew it. You think it's a bad idea too.” Kurt wondered if he could pull a muscle, rolling his eyes so often. “I do. She doesn’t need to sound better and she’s certainly beautiful as she is. She doesn’t need to fix herself like that. Her attitude however, could use a swift kick to the head,” Kurt offered as he did whatever a skilled mechanic did under the hood of a beat-up old truck that clunk, chugged and rattled as badly as Puck’s did. “So you and I know that, how do we make her see it?” Puck asked as he leaned against his truck. Something clunked in the engine and Kurt gave a triumphant cry, to Puck’s untrained ears, clunking couldn’t be good, but Kurt just kept doing what he did. “She needs a Barbra-vention,” Kurt stated. “A whosit-whatnow?” Puck asked, trying to figure out what the hell Kurt was talking about. “I thought you were relatively well educated in the ways of Rachel Berry. You spent at least a full day in her presence and you didn’t hear about Barbra Streisand and her early plights?” Kurt actually pulled away from the engine to glare at Puck. “Oh, Babs. Yeah she totally passed on a nose job early in her career. My ma’s told me that story about a million times. So you want to throw a Barbra Streisand intervention?” Puck asked feeling rather pleased having worked it out on his own. “When the hell did you get under there?” he blurted, noticing Kurt had moved under the car. Kurt rolled himself out from under the car, having decided it needed to be raised. He was a little old fashioned and like rolling under the car with a flash light to check it out. “Barbra-vention,” he stated, raising the platform. Puck nodded, “So what are we going to do exactly?” Kurt had a wicked grin as he began working on the underside of the truck, “we aren’t doing anything. You are going to get Rachel to the mall tomorrow after school, with a short delay of course and then I shall do what I do best.” “Which is what?” he smirked, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” Kurt replied, slipping Puck’s keys into his pocket and brushing his hand across his crotch. At lease Puck thought Kurt had brushed his hand against his crotch. He stared at Kurt not really listening to him as his truck was lowered down. “I don’t know how much longer that truck is going to last though, everything is pretty eroded and rusty,” Kurt offered before he turned to saunter away. “I’ll send you the bill,” he tossed over his shoulder, before disappearing into the staff room. Puck fumbled with his key as he tried to start it up. It took a few tries to get the key in, damn Kurt for getting him all flustered and damn Blaine for claiming Kurt, and holy shit! His truck had basically roared to life. Ever since he’s gotten the thing it had done this dry hacking wheezing with a clunking when he started it up, lately it had needed a few tries but now, Puck had adjust himself before pulling out. Hummel was magic. xXxXx “Is there a sale at Claire’s?” Rachel asked as she followed Puck into the mall. Puck glared at the girl, the sale was last week; he only knew because he had brought his sister for her birthday. “No, I brought you here to knock some sense into you since you won’t listen to me or Finnessa-” “But you will listen to Barbra,” Kurt interrupted, with a pointed glare at Rachel before turning to Puck. “Thank you for bringing her here, but only I can lead this Barbravention,” he tucked a folded paper into his pocket and caressed his chest. Puck gave Kurt a nod before he headed to the escalator “Is she here?” Rachel asked again, even more anxious than the last five times she’d asked the boys who seemed to have forgotten about her. She was practically bouncing on her toes. “No, this is mall in Ohio,” Kurt replied drily. Puck watched the pair as he descended and idly wondered if Kurt was going to pull an eye muscle. He managed to not fall off the escalator and took his place; while he waited he pulled out the paper, only to find it was a receipt from Hummel’s Tire and Lube. He snorted in amusement because he never giggled, and mouthed ‘lube.’ Kurt’s penmanship, because the dude had this weird half printing, half cursive thing going on that Puck found suited him, his own was a messy scrawl that was just a step above chicken scratch and doctors notes - Wait, what? Puck had to read his receipt again, yep he wasn’t crazy. Or seeing things. He glanced up just then and caught Kurt and Rachel finally stepping onto the elevator. He caught Kurt’s gaze and he nodded; Kurt beamed. With one last glance at the receipt, one night with Blaine and I, Puck tucked it into his back pocket. Yeah he could do that.While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. 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