AUTHOR'S NOTES: As always, Meiran Chang owns my soul for the beta. This story was written expressly for carokada LJ / itcouldbepuck tumblr, who is the keysmash princess.

Kurt hovered outside the music room, staring at the cracked open door with a frown. He lifted his hand and touched the small window of the door before yanking it away and cursing his stupidity.

It didn't matter that he was back at McKinley. New Directions had lost Regionals, and Figgins had ended the funding for the club. No more funding, no more Glee...no more of any of the reasons why he'd decided to leave Dalton in the first place. Tears stung his eyes; he felt guilty, dammit, and he hated feeling guilty for having wanted safety.

It wasn't his fault the Warblers had given a better performance. They would have done that with or without him (another reason he'd left; the Warblers had never needed him, just like Blaine didn't need him, and Kurt wanted more than just being wanted). Even if Kurt watched recordings of New Directions' performance over and over, and knew what notes weren't Mercedes or Tina or Rachel's strong points that he should have been there to cover, or at least help them practice. Even if he knew how much of a difference having him there instead of-

He took a deep breath and pressed his lips in a thin line. No. He'd done this a million times already, and he was the only one who was punishing himself for it.

Well, had he believed in God, he would have suspected God was punishing him right about now.

The empty music room when there should have been practice was the least of it. Returning to McKinley wasn't the triumph over bullying and ignorance and conformity that it should have been. Instead, Mercedes was quiet and Tina was still distracted by Mike twenty-four-seven. Quinn and Sam were already vying for homecoming king and queen, and apparently having been a Warbler must have canceled out having been a Cheerio, because he was next to invisible to Santana and Brittany and Quinn (to be fair, anyone who wasn't Sam or equally popular seemed to be invisible to Quinn right now, it wasn't just directed at Kurt, but damn if it didn't hurt like it was). Artie still 'talked' to him, as much as they talked- a nod in the hallway and a 'how are you' was about all they had in common nowadays.

He still had Rachel and Finn, at least, even if he usually would rather shoot himself than be in the same room as the both of them simultaneously. Had someone told him that his closest friend at the end of Glee would be Rachel Berry, well, he would have laughed in their faces.

" 'Sup Hummel?"

Kurt gasped- a bit over dramatically, sure, but when was he anything but a little dramatic- and turned. "Puck?" A beat. "You don't have a slushie hidden somewhere, do you?"

Puck honestly hadn't even made it to the list of relationships made and broken by Glee. It wasn't intentional, it was just that even under the best of circumstances, Puck had always acted as if Kurt were invisible. (If Kurt ignored the updates from both Finn and Mercedes that Puck had taken Kurt's leaving hard, and the fact that for the first few days Kurt had been home, Puck had insisted Kurt sit with him and Finn and play Smash Bros for an ungodly length of time. Days.) When Glee all went its separate ways, Kurt wasn't surprised that Puck would probably spend the rest of high school walking straight past him as though Kurt had never helped him readjust his bow tie before a performance.

With Puck standing in front of him though, back in the old varsity jacket with his guitar case slung over his back, Kurt felt bad for dismissing what quiet camaraderie the two of them had developed over their time in Glee club.

Puck chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Course not. I used my daily slushie toss on this exchange student in my science lab. What kind of loser does an exchange program in Lima anyway? Totally deserved it."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh, then quickly clamped his mouth shut. He shouldn't laugh at anyone else being slushied, but dammit, it wasn't him, it hadn't been him since he'd come back (Kurt heard from Mercedes that that was the combined work of Puck, Finn, Sam, Mike, and even Artie, which they'd called Operation: Keep the Princess in the Castle. Kurt didn't get the joke), and Puck's nonchalance was so.. .nostalgia inducing.

And god, wasn't it sad that he hadn't graduated high school, and yet he was already having pangs of severe nostalgia for the better days?

A lazy grin spread across Puck's lips at Kurt's reaction. His hand was resting on the strap of the guitar bag casually, and Kurt was trying to remember if he'd ever actually had a conversation with Puck while Puck was wearing that varsity jacket. "You going in?"

"What, me?" Kurt looked around as if Puck might have been speaking to some other student who was hovering forlornly outside of the the music room, his hand to his heart. "In there? No, no, I was just..." Kurt tried to think of something that a long-time member of the Titans would believe. "Wondering if I left my chap stick in there."

Puck raised his eyebrow. "Dude, unless you've been lurking in there secretly, you would have left your Chap Stick back pre- Wibbling days. It'd be gone by now."

Right, Puck had a whole half of a braincell more than Finn. Kurt forgot that sometimes. "Warbling. Warblers. Are you ever going to call them by their proper name?"

"Nope," Puck answered simply, before using his foot to push open the music room door. "You first."

"Really, I wasn't-"

"You look like you missed out on a sale," Puck told Kurt. Kurt opened his mouth to reply. "Just go inside already, this is whack as hell."

It was the gentleness of his expression- at least, compared to Puck's usual expression- that convinced Kurt. A part of him was absolutely sure Puck wouldn't pull a prank, and for once in Kurt's life, that part was pretty damn big. So he straightened his posture and waltzed into the music room, as if crossing the threshold was a major accomplishment.

And when being in the empty music room, devoid of Mercedes' gossip and Rachel's judgments and Finn's faults and Mr. Schue's stupid choreography nearly choked him up, Kurt thought that maybe, just maybe, it was.

He recovered as Puck brushed past him. Honestly, he tensed for a moment, and stayed still for a beat longer, before he realized that was it. Puck brushed past him, wearing that jacket, and didn't shove him or bodycheck him or otherwise try to ruin his day. If anything, Kurt was positive Puck hadn't realized he'd done it; Puck was busy removing his guitar bag and opening it up, pulling out that old, faithful guitar of his.

Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat and sat on at the piano bench, laying his school bag on the top of the piano. His fingers ghosted over the keys, not putting enough pressure to make a sound, but touching them enough to feel the piano under his fingertips.

He'd practiced Defying Gravity for days before deciding to choke on the last note.

Puck pulled the guitar strap over his head and started fiddling with the strings, checking to make sure it was in tune. He glanced over at Kurt, a long, indecipherable look (and Kurt hadn't known Puck's expression could be so confusingly unreadable) before speaking.

"I knew you'd end up back here," he said carefully, slowly. Kurt tilted his head, waiting patiently for Puck to continue, because that couldn't possibly be it. "Could see you'd be back whenever you were up there with those Stepford bitches."

"Don't talk about them like that," Kurt admonished him. "They're all really sweet, and for the most part, they were really kind to me. Dalton just wasn't a good fit." He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and sighed. "New Directions has simply spoiled me for other teammates, I suppose, regardless of your combined efforts to smother me in your astounding lack of culture." Puck shrugged. Kurt frowned, the whimsy gone from his voice. "Had spoiled me, I suppose, is more accurate."

"You always belonged here," Puck said. Kurt raised his eyebrow. "I mean, yeah, so Santana and I gave you crap all the time for the gay thing. Or the way you always tried to get all of us guys to do the make-up and dress-up thing. Whatever, you're one of us. New Directions for life or whatever, I guess."

Kurt was silent for a moment. "That's incredibly sweet of you to say, Puck."

"Sweet my ass," Puck rolled his eyes. He leaned forward, his smug smirk so very Puck and so very nostalgia-inducing that Kurt had to stop and chew on his lip for a moment to keep from getting pathetically emotional about the whole stupid thing. "No one got under Rachel's skin like you did. Or called out Mr. Schue like you did. Without you there shit was lamer."

Kurt brushed his hair to the side, but his trademark gesture was softened by the fact that his gaze was lowered to the keys of the piano. "Yes, I was rather good at calling Mr. Schuester out, for all the good that ever did me."

"And, I mean, without you around for the girls vs boys stuff, the girls pretty much kept kicking our asses because we lost the high part of the harmonies," Puck continued, and he sounded frustrated. Embarrassed, almost. "And none of us took those things seriously except for you, anyway, so we kind of bombed at coming up with ideas for mash-ups, anyway."

Kurt laughed, feeling his cheeks flush. Of all the things he'd expected from coming back to McKinley, hearing Puck go on about how much Kurt had been missed wasn't one of them. It was, however, entirely welcomed. "You guys got it together, I'm sure. Rachel whipped Finn into shape, who whipped you all into shape."

"Finn? Please." Puck rolled his eyes again, snorting. "Artie held that shit down." Kurt smiled; he could see that, honestly.

Kurt looked down at his hand and played a few notes on the piano. "Do you come and jam by yourself in the music room often?" He didn't look back at Puck while he asked, thinking how utterly depressing a 'yes' answer might be.

"Sometimes," Puck answered. "But honestly? Saw you staring in here yesterday too, figured this was the best place to find you."

Kurt's head shot up, his eyes narrowed. "Find me? Why?"

Puck shrugged, his hand still resting on the neck of his guitar even if he wasn't tuning it anymore. "Wanted to." Kurt's eyebrow flew up so fast it was a wonder Kurt's stylish and jaunty little hat didn't fly off his head with it. "What, I can't want to see you?"

"No." The response was immediate, and Kurt covered his mouth abashedly. "Sorry, I..." He took a breath. "It's a little out of character for you, Puck."

"Not really," Puck countered.

"Oh?"

"See...I kind of thought Glee would still be around when you came back," Puck explained. He was getting that embarrassed look in his eyes again. He took a few steps back, standing in the middle of the room. "And I'd kind of... well, planned to do this whole welcome back thing. And then we lost Regionals, and Figgins royally screwed us, and I never got to do it."

Kurt's deadpan was suspicious. "A welcome back thing."

"Yeah, stop looking at me like that or I'll change my mind." There was a little of the old-school Puckerman-threat to his voice.

Kurt pulled his hands from the piano and put them in his lap. He stared at them long and hard, because that was easier than admitting that this was possibly the sweetest moment he'd had since coming back to McKinley. Mercedes and Tina had been excited, but it'd faded to normalcy; Finn and dad and Carole had all been happy, of course, but that was home, not school.

He lifted his head slightly, looking up at Puck. Who was still standing there, all mohawk and varsity jacket and guitar like they were all inextricable parts of him. If Kurt were to design a Puck-doll, he thought, all three of those things would have to be included, or the set would be incomplete.

"But it's a little late to welcome me back to Glee, Puck. Unfortunately." Kurt's voice was soft, level so that he wouldn't keep getting so damn nostalgic over it all. "As much as the thought itself is appreciated."

"Screw that," Puck answered. "It's not the first time I've been a little late on getting my crap together, but I'm not gonna not do it, just 'cause of that, you know?" Kurt realized that Puck was taking this very seriously. There was an earnestness in his voice that Kurt had heard before, but never directed at him.

Kurt pressed his lips together before replying. "Alright then," he whispered. It seemed to fit the moment. "Welcome me back."

Puck took a deep breath. "Okay, so, you know I've got a thing for tradition when it comes to my Glee performances. Gotta rep my Jew pride and everything." Kurt couldn't help but smile again; it was cute. "But, well, it's for you, so I had to find a gay Jewish performer, and I wasn't trying to do Adam Lambert, you know?" Kurt snorted at the image of that, but let Puck continue. "So I had to ask Rachel for help. And that landed me watching You Tube videos of like Sondheim for like, five hours until I told her I was gonna claw my eyes out."

"Oh, poor you," Kurt faux-pouted. "I'll have you know I happen to love-"

"Hey, I'm talking here, let me finish," Puck interjected. Kurt held his hands up and motioned for Puck to continue. Puck cleared his throat, and went on. "Then she made me sit through Rent with her, and I had to put up with her stopping the movie to play the songs that were cut out, and go on about how Finn always falls asleep watching it with her."

Kurt blinked. "You watched Rent." Then, just to be sure. "You are Noah Puckerman, right?"

Puck looked uncomfortable. "I didn't like it or anything, okay? All that stuff about disease and things wasn't really the sort of thing I wanna sit through when I watch a movie." There was so much Kurt had to teach Puck. Immediately, so that Puck wouldn't utterly humiliate himself should he ever come across people who knew the world didn't end with Lima. "But there were a couple of good songs. So, yeah...I figure you know the song, and all, and Larson's Jewish and gay, so..."

He shrugged, before looking down at his guitar and starting to strum.

Kurt Hummel had always made it a habit not to take a single one of Puck's performances in Glee seriously. Yes, Puck had stage presence and a decent voice, but it was always about getting laid with Puck, or some sort of personal drama Kurt was not interested in. So he always fiddled with his phone or goofed off with Mercedes when Puck did his thing. But now Puck was performing for him, to him, and he had Kurt's full attention.

"One song, glory, one song, before I go..."

And he was singing that song.

Kurt didn't know if Puck had paid enough attention to the musical to know the context, or what the song was about, but honestly, he didn't care. Puck's voice fit the song, his initial nervousness at performing for Kurt (he was performing for Kurt, for another male, for a gay male, Kurt couldn't believe it) only lending to the gradual growth and strength of the notes and emotion.

When Puck sang the song, that "wasted opportunity" became sophomore year. That "young girl" became Beth, that "Glory" was a life outside of Lima, a family, a touchdown at the end of a great game. It didn't matter that Puck had probably spaced out on the fact that Roger's girlfriend had killed herself, or that Puck would probably never deign to watch it again, because when the words left Puck's mouth, they became about Puck, and McKinley, and cutting a swath of bad-ass and Puckerman-style glory across Lima.

Kurt did not shed a tear, but only because he caught himself watering up and willed himself not to. He'd never paid attention to one of Puck's performances before, but he was suddenly entirely aware of what had swept Rachel, Quinn, and Mercedes off their feet.

And the end notes swelled, and for Kurt, the hallways outside the music room faded away, and the room shrunk to just the distance between him and Puck. A part of him was distantly aware that this was a mistake, that reacting like this to Puck was asking for trouble, but Puck couldn't possibly expect him to react any other way when-

The song ended, and it hit Kurt.

Puck couldn't possibly expect him to react any other way when Puck sang to him like he sang to the girls in Glee.

Puck looked almost nervous, under a thin layer of 'I don't care, I'm Noah Puckerman' swagger. Kurt was speechless, his mouth dropped slightly open. Puck broke the silence, cursing under his breath and turning away. "I screwed up the last note, didn't I? Shit."

Kurt blinked. "What?" His voice was louder than he intended. "No, of course you didn't, why on earth would you think something that utterly false?" Puck glanced at him. "That was amazing, Puckerman." Then, with slightly lowered volume, "Thank you. I- I mean it. It was gorgeous."

With a deep breath, Puck relaxed, running a hand over his mohawk. "Good. Because not everybody gets themselves a private show, Hummel. Don't forget it."

Kurt raised his eyebrow, and resisted the urge to make any jokes about Puck and private shows. Instead, he just answered with, "Trust me, I won't."

Puck looked at his watch suddenly, and the smile that popped up on his face erased any of the nervousness that was there before. "Just in time, too."

"In time for what?"

He pulled off his guitar and propped it up against the piano. "Dude, you seriously think I was gonna let you just sit in here and mope the rest of the afternoon? Screw that, I got you." And he turned that full-watt smile to Kurt, and normally, Kurt could return a sneer and be done with it, but...

...Puck had sat through Sondheim with Rachel for him. Kurt melted just a little bit.

Still, big smiles from Puck were dangerous. "What did you do, Puck?"

"Relax," Puck told him.

"No, seriously, wha-" Kurt's words were cut off by the door opening. Kurt turned in his chair to see Rachel and Finn entering. "What are you guys-"

Finn grinned, nodding their way. "Puck called emergency jam session, bro. I wasn't gonna miss it." He let go of Rachel's hand so that he could make his way to the drum set.

Rachel sat down next to Kurt on the piano bench. "He didn't go flat on the song, did he? I told him he had to watch out for that."

Before Kurt could reply, more Glee members started filing in. Mike and Tina, holding hands before sitting back in their seats. Santana strolled in, chewing gum, followed by Brit and Artie. Quinn waved at Kurt and threw Puck a smile as she and Sam sat in the back. Mercedes pulled a chair up by the piano.

Even Lauren grumped her way in, rolling her eyes and sitting as far from everyone else as possible.

Kurt stared over at Puck, who just shrugged, smiling. "You're unbelievable, you know that?" And Kurt was certain that he'd never said those words more fondly to anyone in his life.

Puck didn't answer, instead leaning back on the piano as Rachel started to loudly suggest a few songs, and Santana suggested where she could put the songs.

Kurt cried a little then, but he was pretty sure everyone but Puck was too busy looking elsewhere to notice.