Bonded in blood

Chapter 1

It was the last Friday before school started and Burt was dozing off in the couch when the call woke him up. It hadn't been the police or the hospital, it had been Ruth. Ms. Puckerman, who had been waiting on the driveway to rant to his kid about getting home so late when he knew that they were going to the services the next day. Ruth Puckerman who had witnessed the moment that Finn's truck got hit by a drunk driver that passed a red light. Ruth, who had seen the truck flip over and the way her son had flown out of the window after the impact of the other car.

Burt was on his way to the woman's house faster than he thought it could be possible without having a couple of police cars tailing him.

The place was a disaster.

Finn's truck was flipped over, lying diagonally across someone's lawns, and the other car was too crushed to even recognize the place where the driving seat should be.

Burt got out of his car without killing the engine, too worried about his two kids to even close the door. He just needed to find them, to know they were ok, that they were alive. He wouldn't be able to bear it if something happened to his kids, to Finn… to Kurt. To the only bit he had left of Elizabeth…

He ran to the truck, noticing with some relief that Finn was there, breathing; unconscious but breathing. Breathing was good. He could live with breathing. Breathing was awesome.

It was awesome as long as Kurt was breathing too.

His son just wasn't on the other seat, his seatbelt looking bloody enough to freak him out. He stood up and looked around, searching franticly everywhere he could even imagine Kurt could possibly be. If he was injured he wouldn't really be too far, could he?

It was near a tree that he saw them. Ruth, sobbing on the ground while holding her son's hand and Kurt, kissing the boy's forehead, his bloody hands were barely holding the wound that was making it so hard for Puckerman to breath. He ran to his kid, silently thanking whatever god there might be around that his son was alive and well.

Kurt was chanting something under his breath, he didn't even realize that his father was there, and he kept drawing these weird symbols, with the blood that Burt could know see that was flowing from under his shirt, on Puckerman's arms. From his wrist to his shoulders, on his forehead, and back from his shoulders to his wrist on the other arm, only to finish it with a small kiss on his bloody forehead.

Burt couldn't make out the signs, but he was pretty sure it was those things that Kurt used to draw when he was a kid and his mom died. He had spent weeks drawing them everywhere, saying they were for protection, most of the time on Burt's own arms and forehead. It was just from that motion alone that he could see how scared Kurt was that his friend wasn't going to make it.

So he knelt by him and put his hands on his son's shoulders as the kid gave into sobs.

The ambulance just couldn't get there soon enough.

~o~

After the accident Kurt spent most of his days on the hospital, waiting, hoping, and crying, against Puck's hand. He had seen his friends come and go and he had felt his father's hand on his back when he went to check on him (and Puck); he knew he was worrying other people, but he just couldn't leave him there, alone.

Blaine had been there a couple of times, bringing him coffee and magazines to keep him entertained, and being generally understanding about the reason he was there, spending all his time with someone who, most of the time, didn't really care about him.

Truth was that Kurt felt guilty.

It was Finn the one driving, yeah, and it had been a drunken driver who had crushed into them, but he had spent all the time joking, bantering and complaining to Puck, making them laugh, distracting them. It was because he just couldn't stay in his place silently that neither Finn nor Puck had been attentive enough to see the car going in their direction.

Finn had been discharged a few days ago, but Puck just wasn't waking up. It had been a week and he wasn't waking up.

Sure, the doctors said it wasn't anything too bad; it was just that he had a severe concussion (which apparently hadn't really given them any more trouble than usual) and one of his ribs had punctured a lung. You know, the usual, nothing too bad they said. He was going to wake up when his body was readier to go on, on his own time; it was just a matter of time.

It had been a week, though, and he still wasn't waking up.

And let's not even talk about all that time he had to wait under that tree, with Puck's blood flowing under his fingers and listening to Ruth's sobs. Trying to forget the way he was sobbing himself. He had been so scared then, he had seen the pallor on his friend's face and the way his breathing came even more labored with each second. He had seen the way blood trailed down his chin when he coughed and the way his eyes had become so dull by the end that Kurt was sure that Puck wasn't really there with him, he wasn't even hearing him. He was going, he was dying, his time was running out and it was his entire fault for being childish when he should have been cautious. It was his fault.

He had a few injuries of his own, so the paramedics had let him ride the ambulance with Puck. He sat near Ruth while his father was in another ambulance with Finn; he clung to her hand when shouts and instructions started flying as soon as the Puck's vitals started dropping. Together they grabbed his hand, and together they sighed in relief when the paramedics decided he was out of danger.

Puck had been really, really close to dead that night. It was a miracle that he hadn't died right there, under that tree, in Kurt's arms.

So now Kurt waited, he had been waiting for days and he was going to keep waiting until the man on the bed decided it was time to wake up. His life had been put on hold until that happened, and he didn't regret it, not even a bit.

Even if he didn't know what was he going to do when Monday came and he had to leave the hospital, when he had to start living his life again because, as understanding that his father was, it was one thing to lose his summer waiting on his friend to wake up, but it was another matter completely when it was classes they were talking about.

After all… Puck was closer to Finn, and his step brother wasn't the one clinging to his hand as if the line that marked his beating heart on the monitor depended on that contact to keep marking.

Kurt yawned, and decided that maybe it was time to go for tonight. The nurses were going to kick him out soon after all, and he was going to need to be well rested if he was going to survive his first day at school. A full day of wondering if Puck was going to pull through after all or if he was going to sink into whatever it was that was keeping Puck from him.

~o~

In his little dark world Puck could see music and hear smells, he could feel the vibrations on his soul whenever someone talked and he could taste the tears that sometimes fell on his skin.

More than anything, though, he could see the way the blood dripped in front of him; the little drops falling into a fountain that went straight to his heart and kept him alive, warm and strong.

He could feel the way Kurt's breath touched his skin sometimes. It was those moments when he felt almost sure that he was going to wake up from wherever he was, from this awful dream where he was trapped, unable to reach out and clasp that hand that he knew must be around him. Keeping him alive when all he could feel was the darkness ahead.

~o~

Blaine met him Tuesdays and Thursdays at McKinley's parking lot, with a cup of coffee and all that thoughtfulness that Kurt didn't really understand but appreciated anyway. It was much easier to survive this waiting game when he didn't have to worry about his boyfriend thinking that he was spending too much time with Puck, or that he was just spending too little with him. Which he was. They barely saw each other nowadays, not with Blaine at Dalton and Kurt more worried about how long it would take him to get to the hospital than how comforting it would be to drive to Westerville a couple times a week to work on his budding love with the Warbler. And when they got to see each other, it was always in these little trips, with Puck's comatose form between them.

It was just that…

This felt so much more important than a few visits to his temporary school and his boyfriend…

Life was so much easier when he could trust that Blaine would come to get him a few times a week, drive him to the hospital and stay with him until it became too late and he had to drive back to school before curfew started.

It had been about week and a half since the beginning of classes, so Blaine had subjects enough to talk about on the way while Kurt stared out the window, nodding sometimes and being generally silent. They both knew that it was silly to expect him to be actually listening and this routine was a safe one. It kept them from realizing how this whole situation was messing with their heads, their lives and their hearts.

Blaine wanted his boyfriend back, even if he didn't say it, and Kurt wanted Puck to wake up, everyone knew that.

Neither knew if those two were compatible, but they weren't going risk their relationship by talking about it, at least for now.

~o~

It was a Thursday when it happened. Blaine had just gone home for the day, with a kiss on his forehead and making Kurt promise to call him when he got home. He didn't add a "call me if he wakes up" anymore. Blaine had lost hope, or the ability to care, a long time ago, but Kurt didn't mind. It was just one more of the things they didn't talk about, and so far it was fine by him.

So, that night, while Kurt told his friend about the way that Rachel was moping around because his absence meant that they were one member short for sectionals, Puck's eyelashes started fluttering… and Kurt didn't even think of Blaine.

He was on his feet faster than he thought it was possible, calling the nurse and going back to the room to take Puck's hand in his.

"Puck, it's me, Kurt. I'm here, please wake up. Just, please wake up. I miss you, please don't leave me here" he said, grabbing one of his hands in his before the doctor came in running a few simple tests and asking him to give him room to work.

So Kurt went to a corner, feeling that his eyes were getting too blurry to really see what was happening, but too happy to care. Puck was waking up.

He sent a text message to Puck's mom, before he let go and smiled through his tears.

Puck was waking up.

He was getting out of risk, he still had time.

~o~

After Puck woke up Kurt tried to give him some space. Now that the man was fine there was no need for him to be there, clinging to his arm like a puppy (or worse, Rachel), so he went home after classes instead of going to the hospital. He started calling his boyfriend and he even visited Dalton, just because his afternoons were so long and boring now that giving in to the 2 hours it took to get to Westerville seemed like a good idea.

Besides, Puck and his family could use this time without him there to heal their own wounds.

Kurt's wounds were mostly healed by then, at least it had felt like that when he had seen Puck open his eyes and ask for his mom some minutes later. That had been enough for him.

It was time to keep up with his own life now, or whatever it was left of it after the accident.

It was so hard, though. It was like his life had been there, on that hospital room, and not with him… and it just took a lot of effort to actually care for other things besides Puck, and how would he be, if he was able to eat normally now or if he was on any kind of specific diet, if maybe he was in pain, or if he had any kind of trouble after almost two or so weeks in a coma…

It was really hard to care about your own life when you were more worried about what was happening to another person than what happened to yourself.

~o~

Waking up from a coma should have been more difficult. He had heard stories before, people who woke up and didn't remember how to tie their shoes or how to use a fork, he had seen people on TV who never really got better, and yet… here he was, fresh as… well, some kind of fresh vegetable, and feeling like he had just slept the right time. Sure, he had been reeking hospital, and he had made everything in his hands to cooperate if that meant he could go home and take a proper shower.

And then, after a few days 'resting' at home (docs didn't want him to do much, though he couldn't understand why) he started feeling funny.

Restless.

Like there was something waiting for him out there and he just couldn't wait until he met it.

So, when the doc told him that he could finally start to go to classes he might have celebrated a bit in his mind, just a bit, ok, a lot. It meant that he could start getting out of the fucking house and do stuff, even if he couldn't play football yet he could still sit at Glee and, dunno, interact with people. That might help that weird feeling he got every time he got to be on his own.

And then Monday came, and he might have stood in front of his locker for about five minutes just looking around. Staring at the people who walked besides him, some of them even asking how he was (mostly girls), and some trying not to look at him too closely. Like Kurt.

The guy was just the same as he remembered from a few weeks ago, just before the accident. He was laughing with Mercedes and his smile kind of made his whole face shine. His hair was styled in some weird puffy thing over his head but he looked fine, easy, and confident. It was an awesome sight.

He heard it from the nurses and his mother, and even his sister Nina, knew that Kurt had been visiting him while he was out, that he had been almost the only one who went there regularly to visit and that he had looked really worried the whole time.

So, without really thinking why he was doing this, he walked to the boy's locker when Mercedes left him to go to class. He leaned over, grinning brightly as supported his weight on the lockers with his arm and blew softly to the kid's ear.

The boy jumped in his place, looking scared for about three seconds before his bitch face won.

"What are you doing here? You should be resting!" Kurt said, getting closer to the mohawked boy with a stern face that didn't really reach his eyes.

"Are you nuts? After a whole week of having my mom thinking that I was eight again and not even letting me heat my own food I really needed to escape somewhere, and most of my friends are in this hell hole, so… whatever" Puck said, shrugging, and setting an arm over Kurt' shoulders. "So, my mom, my sister, the nurses, and even Patches, told me that you were, like, my number one fan while I was out"

"I wouldn't say fan… but yes, I visited" Kurt said, warily. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"Not at all man, I just… well… I wanted to thank you, actually. It was nice to know that someone cared that much… and… Just, let me treat you to something, ok? As a thank you gift or whatever" he said, looking unsure.

"There's no need, Puck, you don't have to do anything" Kurt said, with a tight smile.

"No, man, there's no need, but I want to. Let me treat you to dinner, ok? My place, I cook" he said with a smile that Kurt couldn't help but return.

"If you are sure…"

"I'm more than sure, dude, you cared and that is enough for me, ok? So… how have you been living life without my comatose butt in it?"

"It has only been a week since I last saw you, Puck"

"A week too long, man" Puck laughed before slipping into his chemistry class.

~o~

So, the dinner went more or less… fine. He guessed. Sure, it wasn't anything fancy, just some homemade pizza, but it was fun to see Kurt try to dodge the flour and bits of cheese that he tried to send straight to his hair. The question, really, was why he didn't pay with his life for trying to do such thing, but they had fun.

Puck questioned him on stuff that had happened while he had been asleep, and Kurt tried to retell his story as if he hadn't been in the hospital most of the time. They had fun, way more than Puck thought they could when they barely had anything in common.

Really, they had fun.

And wasn't that a surprise.

So, after that night he started to invite Kurt to things more often, it was dinner that week, lunch the next, a movie, and Puck trying to teach him how to play the guitar on the following days while Kurt tried to convince him that it wasn't too late to learn how to play piano. The boy was a constant presence in his life now and he didn't even notice how it was that it became that way.

Sure, ladies now thought that he was gay, crushing on Kurt or something, mostly because he spent all his free time with the dude and monopolized him, but he really didn't mind. He felt restless all the time except when he was with the guy, that on itself was enough not to mind the jokes.

He invited Kurt to most of the things he did now, and they were fairly good friends. Who cared! It was awesome, the guy had a witty tongue and half the time he was trying not to laugh his ass off. He also had this awesome ride that smelled just like him, and that was one of the best things ever. Really. He had even considered asking what kind of perfume he used because it was one of the most orgasmic smells created ever, a close second to sex, but you just can't tell a dude that.

Can you?

And… well… he might have started noticing this little bits of Kurt that were awesome and he hadn't noticed before too; but seriously, the guy was badass and that was so unexpectedly cool that all those other things were just bonuses.

Kurt smelled awesome, and made him laugh, he could also insult every member in the hockey team without them even noticing, he apparently had the same shoe size he did so he had lend him some awesome shoes for a party, and he was such a funny drunk too.

He was loyal, a bit selfish and self-conscious, but loyal to death. Kurt was sweet, and caring, and generous, on his better days. He was a bitch on wheels on his worsts.

And his smile was the most awesome thing in the world, and made him feel so funny, and warm, and stuff, that he always wanted to hug him when he caught him smiling his way.

And his hair was so fluffy and soft looking.

And he was just the right height to put his arms around him when they hugged.

And he smelled delicious.

And his skin was so soft.

And his voice stirred something in him that he didn't even know he had.

So, ok, he might have been turning a bit gay for Kurt, but life was like that… and this feeling he got when he was close to him, this calm that surrounded him when he could smell him? That was so worth being called a fag by the hockey team and being teased by his friends.

So what if he liked the kid. Love was love, he wanted someone then he got it, it didn't matter if the ass came with a vagina or a dick. He wanted the dude, hell, he was starting to think he loved him, and it didn't matter if Kurt had a dick. Who knew, having a dick was fun, having two dicks maybe was twice as fun!

Ok, maybe he was forgetting that Kurt had a boyfriend (it was easy when the guy barely talked about him when they were together), but if he managed to convince him that they could give it a shot…

It had worked with Quinn, and she had had that whole Celibacy Club thing going back then, why wouldn't it work with Kurt?

Would it be that bad to try something with him? After all Kurt barely talked about the guy, and whenever he did it was just to complain about something (distance, that 'awful poker face of him', the fact that he was introduced to his parents like 'my friend Kurt', and so many other things), so, yeah, maybe it wasn't that bad an idea.

He could show him. He could make him see that he was a great choice, a good possible boyfriend. Kurt may care for the eyebrow freak dude, but he could see that whatever love he had it was dying a slow death over the distance and the bad communication. He was just giving him an escape route.

An awesome, hot, and sexy, escape route.

Sure, things could go bad, it was a recipe for disaster after all, but he wanted this. He wanted it more than he thought it was possible and he was willing to risk a bit of his heart for the calm he felt whenever he was around Kurt.

Puck decided then to invite Kurt to a date. He prepared the movie, and dinner, some sparkling cider because the guy had to drive back home afterwards, and a speech.

Ok, not so much a speech but a list of things he was going to do to try to get Kurt to kiss him.

And they were working even!

First it was the whole opening the door for him, and moving his chair. Maybe he could have done something better than pizza again, but he felt it was almost symbolic to that first dinner they had together. Then he had tried to offer some more sparkling cider. He had put some background music that he didn't even like, but he was sure that Kurt did, and the guy had been humming it while they ate.

The movie was a carefully selected musical, Sweeney Todd, it had enough blood and action that he wasn't going to fall asleep and enough music for Kurt to sing along with the story. Besides, watching Kurt sign like that, completely open and happy? It was the best part of the night.

Having Kurt, in his couch, smiling like that? It beat cougars and cheerios without panties.

He got his awesome feeling out of it, like the room had got quiet and it was only them there, together, and he wanted nothing more than to hug him and run his fingers down his cheek, up that stubble he could see there.

So, as the credits started to roll, he got closer to the guy, close enough to close his eyes and smell him. His heart was beating like crazy and his palms were sweating, but he wanted this so much. It had been a perfect night; logic said it should end just as planned too. He just had to get a bit closer.

Kurt turned then, looking at Puck with a weird expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm going to kiss you now" Puck answered, covering the guy's jaw with his hand and caressing his cheek with his thumb. It was just as soft as he had imagined.

"No, seriously, is this a joke?" the guy asked, backing a few inches.

"No joke, Kurt, I just really want to kiss you right now. For the few last days, really" he said shrugging before getting closer again.

"Puck, I have a boyfriend"

"He doesn't need to know" he whispered, just an inch from Kurt lips.

God was he beautiful. Those amazing eyes, that were starting just to close under his stare, that nose that was begging to be kissed, those lips that exhaled deeply just over his own lips…

Puck wanted this so bad…

It was like time had stopped for him, this was the moment he had been waiting for, and this was the thing that he had been looking for all those months he had been restless. This was it.

And then he kissed him.

And time started running again, frantic.

Kurt's lips on his where perfect, the most awesome thing that had ever happened to him. His little breathy moans were driving him crazy but he managed to calm himself long enough to get Kurt above him, with one of his hands running over his hair and sighing at the softness of it, while the other held him close to his chest.

He could taste the cider on Kurt's tongue, he could feel the way the boy fit against him like he had melted over him, and he could smell that soft perfume stronger than ever.

Why hadn't he done this before?

It felt so right.

It was just so… right.

Until it was over.

See? Frantic. The time was frantic. There was no way they had spent five minutes making out. It was too little, it felt like too little.

He tried to get Kurt's lips back to his, he needed to feel them again, and he needed to know he hadn't imagined the whole thing.

"Come on, don't stop. You taste so good" he said, before diving up for his lips again. Kurt let him for a few seconds before placing his hands on his chest and closing his eyes.

"I can't. I'm sorry, Puck, I can't" he said, letting his forehead fall on Puck's chest.

"Look at me, Kurt" he said, placing his hand under the boy's chin and making him look up. "No one has to know, I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to. I just want you, dude, you are like… perfect"

"Puck, I'm flattered, really, but I can't. I have a boyfriend" he said, trying to get up. Puck just held him strongly to his chest.

"I don't mind" he said, trying to get his lips on him again and then nuzzling his neck when it failed.

"But I do, I don't want to hurt him"

"But you don't mind hurting me" he whispered, stopping. Puck let go on Kurt then, and sat up himself putting as much distance to the kid as he could in his small couch. He run his hands through his hair and bit his lip trying to contain the hurt that he was feeling. It shouldn't feel like that, like a hook was tearing his heart out of his chest.

"It's not that, Puck, I care about you. I care a lot, but I can't hurt him like that for just… what? Making out with you tonight and then forgetting about it the next day? I'm not a booty call" Kurt said, before he stood up, awkwardly.

"You think I would treat you like a booty call? Kurt, I made you dinner, the same dinner we had the first time we met after the accident, I tried to pick a movie that wouldn't put me to sleep among the stuff that you liked. You think I'd do this kind of stuff for a booty call?" he asked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice but failing epically.

"Puck…" Kurt started, sitting up again and looking worried. "Was this a date? I didn't even know it was one. You should have told me!"

"What for? So you could tell me no without even giving me a chance?" Puck asked, standing up and pacing in front of the TV. "Look, just go, ok? I don't really want to talk to you right now"

"Puck…"

"Go! Go back to that boyfriend you barely talk about, to a guy that will never love you as much as I could. I know I could"

"Puck"

"Go! I can't see you anymore right now, ok? I can't! I didn't think it would hurt like this, but it does, and you are making it worse with your excuses" he ended in a whisper.

Kurt took the hint then and just got his things hurriedly. In a minute he was out of the door, out of the house, out of the driveway, out of sight… but still so achingly present in Puck's heart that he felt like he was going to break down just there.

The last thing in his mind that night, as he fell asleep, was why, if he didn't love him that much, he didn't, really, he felt like this rejection was tearing him apart?