Hey, everyone! I know. I know. It took me forever to get this up. Sad fact: it's been on my laptop for months. This verse just got shoved into the background with all the other WIPs I've been posting. Sorry! I have one other fic that's already completed for this verse and I'll try to get it up soon!

For anyone new to the Unlimited Texting Series, the order is as follows: Sext-y Distraction, The Morning After, The Mistake, Truth Be Told, and then Of Apologies And Unanswered Texts.

Also, please be aware, that when I post new parts of this verse, it will be an independent fic, so if you want to be alerted when a new fic is posted, select Author Alert rather than Story Alert. You'll never get an email if you chose Story Alert.

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Even if it's something short. It'll be nice to know that my Puck/Kurt absense hasn't lost me all my readers.

Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me.

Of Apologies And Unanswered Texts
One-shot

Puck hadn't spoken to him in a week.

He hadn't replied to anything. Not a text. Not a call, an IM, nothing.

Puck, please.

The logical part of Kurt's mind said that this was stupid, that he and Puck weren't even together, so it's not like he cheated. All he'd done was kiss Blaine. He hadn't had sex with him.

It didn't matter that he'd been telling himself the same thing since the kiss happened.

He still didn't believe it.

There's nothing between me and Blaine. I'm not even speaking to him anymore.

And he wasn't. He hadn't spoken to Blaine since Pavarotti's funeral the day after Regionals. They'd buried the songbird and walked away hand-in-hand, but then Blaine had kissed him by the car and...he couldn't do it. He told Blaine no. That he wanted Puck.

Blaine called him a fool.

Kurt walked home.

I should have told you sooner. I messed up.

He'd screwed everything up, royally so. He'd known it as he stood up on that stage and sang "Candles" with Blaine and saw teary eyes watching him.

Knew right then that Puck had cared about him. Really cared.

He wouldn't have looked like that if he hadn't.

I want to be with you.

Heart on the line.

His eyes burned when no reply came.

Puck, please. Talk to me.

Puck glared at his phone from where it lay on the bed next to him. It rang with every text, shocking him out of the song he was trying to work on. He sighed and laid his guitar beside him as he reached for his phone.

Kurt's messages from the last few days took up a majority of his inbox.

He forced himself to look away from Kurt's I want to be with you.

Yeah. Right. Nice way to show it.

He closed his eyes, remembering when the same words had come from his mouth. He'd said it to Quinn, but in the end, she hadn't wanted him. It had hurt. She was the mother of his child. Maybe his only child. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to have another kid and not hate himself for giving Beth away.

Everything with Kurt right now didn't measure up to what he felt the day he signed those papers, but it did measure up to what he felt when Quinn chose Finn sophomore year.

The hurt.

The disappointment.

At the same time, though, he'd known. Known that Blaine would make a move eventually. Known that Kurt would be tempted.

He just hadn't expected it to hurt this much.

Hated Kurt a bit for getting so far under his skin that he did.

He lay down, arms crossed behind his head until his phone rang again.

I miss you. And not just the sex. I miss YOU.

Puck kind of missed him too.

It wasn't just sex with them anymore. That was how it started, but somewhere along the way, they'd started talking. They'd started just being together.

He felt stupid thinking about everything. There was no reason for Kurt to have been faithful. Fuck, he'd surprised himself when he realized a month into this thing with Kurt that he hadn't fucked anyone else.

He thought about Rachel, Finn, and all that stupid drama that came out when she found out that Finn and Santana had fucked last year. When they weren't even together.

Like him and Kurt.

Fuck.

He was as crazy as Rachel.

Puck sighed as he sat up, legs crossed, and arms propped on them as his hands held his phone. His fingers tapped against the keypad without actually typing anything. Tried to figure out what to say, but couldn't think of a single word.

Puck, please. I'll do anything.

His eyebrow raised.

...Anything?

That worked.

The End

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