Chapter Text
Dave never got to say goodbye to Noah Puckerman. It seemed to be some kind of rule.
When he left McKinley, he didn't really say goodbye to anyone except the ones he met on the way out. It didn't seem right to make a big deal out of leaving when the whole point of leaving was to be a lot less of a public spectacle in the future.
He just disappeared. It wasn't until after he'd left that he thought to wonder if he'd have to stop calling now, and noticed that he'd already done that months before.
He met them at games sometimes, after everything, and he said hi and asked what was up and got some kind of answer back. The kind of conversation that ends with "Yeah, well, see you around, man."
He never knew when it might be the last time.
At graduation, he stood on the grass, hands in his pockets as people hugged around him. There were a couple awkward ones for him as well, people he'd gotten to know over his senior year, but none of these people actually mattered to him the way people do who have grown up together. The way that makes them a part of you just because they've been there for all your childhood and you for theirs, even if you might not like each other or really talk anymore.
People like Azimio. Finn Hudson. Noah Puckerman.
He didn't get any graduation hugs with them. If someone asked him when was the last time he saw Puck, he could perhaps have given them a six month timeframe.
So he didn't know exactly how long it had been, when Puck found him sitting in a bar in Columbus, nursing a bottle of beer and failing at conversation. He was there with a boy from one of his classes, and apparently all they really had in common, besides taking the same gen. ed. requirement, was being gay and not very good at talking about it.
"Hey, Karofsky!"
It was a good time to be interrupted, but when Puck called out, he still ducked his head instinctively.
He turned to look. And there he was, mohawk-less, but otherwise mostly unchanged. Noah Puckerman. A little older, maybe. Not physically, really, he’d already looked twenty in high school, but in the way he carried himself.
Dave forced himself to smile at him. “Puck! Wow, it’s been a long time. Chris, this is Noah Puckerman, we went to high school together.”
“Hi, Noah. Or do you prefer Puck? It’s very nice to meet you.”
Chris was looking at Puck with undisguised interest. Dave hadn’t really allowed himself to consider that, because he was pretty sure nothing good ever came from lusting over your straight teammates. Which probably meant he’d given up his right to be mad that Chris was hitting on his old friend, but that didn’t stop him from feeling it.
And Puck was straight, anyway, so if Chris wanted to waste his time, he could go right ahead, as far as Dave was concerned.
Puck raised his eyebrows and turned to Chris, looking him up and down with those smouldering hazel eyes. “It’s nice to meet you too, Chris. So tell me, how do you know Dave? And please, if you two are on a date, you’d better tell me right now. I remember Karofsky here used to throw a mean punch.”
Okay, so Puck had always been an outrageous flirt and unflinching attention whore. It wasn’t impossible that he’d enjoy playing along with guys who hit on him. He’d have to be getting used to it by now. Because, come on, look at him.
Chris giggled. Dave hated him. He was boring and stupid and beautiful and Dave had no idea why he’d ever agreed to go anywhere with him. “Oh, don’t worry. Dave and I are definitely just friends. Right, Dave?”
Dave had an irrational urge to introduce Chris to the Dave Karofsky who’d named his fist the Fury and didn’t need a whole lot of reason to use it.
He shrugged. “Sure, he’s available, knock yourself out.”
If he’d expected Puck to take him up on it, he’d never have said it. He sat there for another half hour, watching them banter and undress each other with their stupidly gorgeous eyes and thinking about how he wasn’t sure which one of them deserved the other more. Puck was an asshole for leading Chris on and Chris was an asshole for monopolizing Dave’s friend and they could both go fuck themselves.
Themselves. Not each other. It was getting increasingly hard to remember that Puck couldn’t actually be interested, that he was doing this purely for the ego boost or maybe just for the hell of it. When he couldn’t take it anymore, Dave mumbled an excuse about homework and left. The other two were so absorbed they barely noticed.
It dawned on him as he was walking home that he hadn’t gotten Puck’s phone number, and he’d probably have to get it from Chris if he wanted it. He couldn’t imagine ever asking, though. Especially not after Chris showed up two days later, claiming to have gone home with Puck that night. It didn’t really matter if he’d been lying or not, Dave was pissed about it either way. They didn’t hang out again outside of class, and he didn’t see Puck again for another few weeks.
Not while he was awake, anyway.
*****
The next time they met was at the university gym, during one of the insanely crowded times when you couldn’t turn around without hitting some poor clueless person.
Puck just walked up to him and asked to work in, simple as that, as if he hadn’t ignored Dave in favor of some guy he’d never met before, or laid around flexing half naked in his dreams. Well, to be fair to Puck, he didn’t know about the last part, and Dave preferred keeping it that way, so he’d forgive that. But still.
Of course he’d never say no, to anyone, actually, but especially not to Puck, so he nodded and stepped away from the bar. “Do you want to take some plates off for the first set?”
It wasn’t meant as an insult, it was just basic etiquette and common sense, but Puck, being Puck, seemed to hear a challenge. “No, man, this is fine.”
Okay, then. If he wanted a spot he could damn well ask for it. It wasn’t Dave’s problem if Puck wanted to injure himself. If he’d tried to interfere every time someone did something stupid, he’d never get a workout done.
To his surprise, Puck really was fine. Dave probably should have remembered from back in high school that he was good at this. The thing was, he looked so much like all the other guys who walked around sneaking admiring looks at their own arms and chests, he’d forgotten. On second look, Puck obviously didn’t focus on the bench press to the exclusion of all other lifts, either. He had nice legs, and shoulders. Well, good for him. His rotator cuffs would thank him in a couple of years.
Puck finished his set, not making any more noise than was actually necessary, even bothering to lower the bar carefully, rather than dropping it for the maximum amount of impressive sound.
He sat up and looked at Dave. “How about you? Want some more weight on this? I’ll spot you.”
Dave never, ever sacrificed form to push big numbers. He definitely didn’t care more about impressing guys than he did about following his program. He looked at Puck. “Yeah, okay. Another twenty on each side.”
Puck found a free 20 pound plate and loaded it on without comment. Dave did the same on the other side. “You should probably put some collars on this,” Puck suggested. Dave shrugged. “Feel free, if you can find any. I think something eats them.”
“No, it’s fine, I’m sure I can bail you out.”
He probably could, and Dave wasn’t really worried anyway, but he smiled a little at the thought that Puck cared, both about weight lifting safety and about him.
As it turned out, Puck didn’t need to do anything except stand there, and neither did Dave when Puck declined to take anything off for his next set. He struggled a little on the last rep, though. Dave tried really hard not to feel satisfied about that. Puck didn’t seem to care, he got up as cheerfully as ever and grinned at Dave. “Two-fifty?”
Dave couldn’t help grinning back. “Sure, why not. I have a good spotter.”
Puck was the first to fold, at 260 pounds, which was still a very respectable number. Maybe those arms weren’t just for decoration after all.
Dave remembered Puck in high school, eating all the waffles he could get his hands on, with syrup on them. Not just for their pancake breakfast fundraiser, though he had broken all the records soundly, but every time Dave had a chance to watch him. And he’d been cut back then, too.
Dave wanted to think there was some justice in the world, that guys who looked like Puck paid for it by obsessing over carbs and supplements. For sure their diets made them weaker than they could have been. Dave wanted power more than he wanted to look like some guy from a fitness magazine, so dehydrated he’d need help getting off the stage.
But then there was Puck, falsifying all his theories. Grinning at him over a mountain of pancakes, the veins along his biceps standing out. Because of course he’d taken off his shirt to eat pancakes.
Dave wondered if he still did that.
“So, what classes are you taking?”, he asked, in an attempt to get his brain back on a safer track.
The grin vanished from Puck’s face. He ran a hand over his shaved head, and for a short second he looked small and lost. Then he put on his usual smirk and relaxed.
“Oh, I’m not a student. Maintenance staff get to use the gym, too.”
Dave had no idea what to say. On one hand, he thought he’d made the right wrong assumption. On the other, he’d seen a flash of another Noah Puckerman, one who looked like he was actually bothered or even ashamed.
And then he was gone. “It’s a pretty good job. Great benefits.”
Dave nodded. “Okay, good. I mean, that’s awesome.”
He didn’t like leaving right after that, like Puck wasn’t good enough to hang out with now that Dave knew, but he’d already stayed longer than he really had time for.
“So, this has been great, but I have a class in about fifteen minutes and I really need to shower first, even if it is Human Kinetics.”
Puck might have looked suspicious, but there was no way to reassure him it wasn’t an excuse without making it sound even more like one.
“But maybe we can work out together again sometime? I’m here almost every day.”
“Sure. See you around, dude.” Puck turned around and walked towards the bench pull.
The ache in his chest made no sense at all, so Dave shook it off and went to change.
***
The next day was a Wednesday. Counseling appointment day.
He kind of wanted to talk about meeting Puck. He was pretty sure that counted as some kind of triggering situation. If only he could figure out what it had triggered, or why, or identify a single one of his thoughts or emotions. So instead, they talked about the classmate he’d almost punched in the face last week. That could probably do with some processing as well, so it wasn’t a complete waste of his time.
He was still on edge for the rest of the day. He ate dinner, refusing to think about anything but the food in front of him, and went back to his dorm to try to do some homework.
He’d just gotten started on the math when his phone rang. He didn’t really want to answer it, or worry about what anyone might want from him. He picked it up. Unknown number. Probably a telemarketer or a poll or something. He was ready to turn them down with ruthless efficiency, when he heard a familiar voice on the other end.
“Hey, Dave? Uh, this is Puck.”
Shit. Where had Puck gotten his number from?
“Oh. Hi. What’s up?”
“So, listen, this is really last minute and you probably have plans tonight, but if you don’t, there’s this thing I wanted to go to. And I was wondering if you’d like to come.”
Dave looked around his room and down at himself. Yeah, still Dave Karofsky, favored candidate for phys.ed program least eligible gay bachelor. Possibly the only candidate, actually. All the gay guys who didn’t suck at life were over in Fitness Development getting ready to open their own gyms or something.
Guys didn’t call Dave and ask him to go to anything. The height of his social life was when Ryan bothered to walk down the hallway to ask if he was up for shooting some zombies.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go out. But he didn’t know who to ask or where he’d go or if there was anywhere he’d even be welcome.
He was way too excited. He ought to say no. He couldn’t. But he’d at least try to sound a little nonchalant about it.
“Oh. No, I don’t have plans. What kind of place is this?”
“It’s called the Pine, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it?”
He had. It wasn’t the kind of place he imagined guys like him going to. Or guys like Puck, really, but then he’d never cared much about things like that, had he?
“Yeah. Sure, I’ll come. It’s the one down on Fifth Avenue, right? I could probably walk. Or ride my bike, or something. Want me to meet you there, or what?”
He thought he could hear Puck’s grin through the phone, which made no sense, but then none of this made any sense, so he would just not think about it.
“That’d be great. It starts at eight, so I’ll probably be there before that, but you can just show up whenever.”
“Yeah, okay. So around eight. See you there.”
“Cool, dude.”
He hung up. Dave held the phone in his hand for a while, staring at it and wondering what had just happened.
Just on principle, he wanted to finish this problem set before he started getting ready. Because this was no big deal. It was just a guy he knew from high school asking him to come along to hear some music. So what if it felt kind of important. It wasn’t a date or anything. He didn’t even know if he liked Puck that way, and he still wasn’t totally convinced that he was even interested in guys. And even if he were, why would he be interested in Dave? Anyway, he thought the feeling in his stomach might have as much to do with what he was doing, and where he was going, as it had to do with Puck. It felt like the start of something.
He put down his pen. He was done with all but one problem, that would have to do. Dave went to look for a clean shirt, and was trying to choose between the black and the blue when Tony, his roommate, opened the door. They weren’t really friends, even after living together since the start of the semester. He did know that Tony was a political science major, a former age-group swimming star who’d decided against competing in college, and a whole lot cooler than Dave.
Also, Tony was gay. And he didn’t know about Dave also being gay, or at least if he did he was too polite to mention it. Because Tony had shared that piece of information the day they first met, in the company of quite a few people Dave didn’t know, like it was no bigger deal than being from South Bend, Indiana. Dave had felt his throat close up and barely managed to choke out an “okay”. Tony probably thought he was some sort of homophobe with just enough decency to keep it to himself. Dave had spent hours regretting that moment, as he uncomfortably avoided Tony and tried to talk around the elephant in the room. “Oh, me too.” How hard was that? If he could only have managed those three words two months ago, he could have saved himself so much trouble. And now the moment had passed, like when you didn’t know someone’s name but you’d been talking to them for so long it would be really awkward to ask.
Anyway, Tony entered the room and saw Dave standing there with a t-shirt in each hand, and because he wasn’t stupid, he immediately knew what the situation was.
“Hey, Dave, what’s going on? You got a date or something?”
Dave blushed. To make it worse, he’d taken his old shirt off, so he wasn’t even dressed. He quickly pulled on the blue one. It would have to do.
“Huh? No, nothing like that. Just going out. With a friend.”
“Yeah, sure. What’s her name?”
He blushed even harder.
“His. It’s a guy.” And oh God, could he be more of an idiot? That line had so obviously escaped from a totally different conversation, one he really hadn’t planned to be having right now.
Tony took a long, considering look at him. It felt like it burned.
“Really. So what’s his name, then?” Tony was so relaxed about all this. As if going out with a guy was something you could just talk about, anywhere. But then - wasn’t it supposed to be?
“His name is Puck. Not - that’s not his real first name, but...anyway, he - I mean, he’s just a guy from high school. I’m not even sure he dates guys.” Even if there was some evidence that he might at least be interested.
Tony’s eyebrows rose a little bit more, but he was grinning. “You do realize that you just implied that you do?” Just light enough to still be possible to play off as a joke.
Dave deflated. He didn’t think he’d meant to say that, but maybe he had, maybe it was his subconscious pushing him to do it, because he really really wanted to. He sighed.
“Yeah. I do. Or, you know, I would, if I dated? Look, I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you before, but when I didn’t right away...it never seemed like a good time.”
Tony laughed. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad we’ve finally got that out in the open.” He sat down on Dave’s bed with a thump and a grin. “So, this Puck guy. Is he hot?”
Dave laughed with him, because he’d done it and it was okay and Tony hadn’t thrown him out of the room for lying to him or being a coward or not being good enough to play for his team.
He considered it. “Yeah. God, he...he really, really is.”
Tony smiled. “And you think he might be interested?”
Dave put his hands on his head and sighed. “I don’t know. No. Maybe. He probably just wants to be friends.”
He didn’t think Tony was laughing at him, exactly, it was more of a “been there” sort of thing. It felt good, actually. “Well, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I think you should wear the black shirt, just in case. It makes your arms look great.”
Wait - Tony thought - when had he even noticed that? Had he remembered ? Whatever. Dave pulled the blue shirt over his head and replaced it with the black one. “Better?”
He didn’t know what to do with the look he got in return. He was pretty sure Tony hadn’t looked at him like that before, but then he wouldn’t, as long as he thought Dave was straight and kind of uncomfortable with the whole gay thing. “Yeah. Damn. Go get him.” Tony punched him lightly on the shoulder.
“Yeah, sure.” Dave picked up his wallet and left.
***
It was dark and loud, but not really enough to make him forget himself. Puck was at the bar talking to a couple of guys that normally Dave would shrink away from, feeling like they could see right through him and tell how much he wanted what they had, except he didn’t really respect what they were enough to try. But it was Puck, so he walked up behind them and said hi anyway.
Puck reached across between them to touch him, a hand on Dave’s arm somewhere between his elbow and the edge of his shirt, and if you’d asked him later he would have said that was the moment, that was the second I dropped off the edge and I didn’t even know it , but of course that was bullshit, he could have turned back for a long time after that.
But Puck’s warm hands really were electric and his eyes were sparkling, and he was flirting with Dave and ignoring his friends (if that was what they were, Dave didn’t know anymore), and he made Dave want to drink, so they did, probably too much, until he didn’t know he was awkward anymore and nothing mattered except stumbling into Puck’s warm, strong arms in the dark and being held there between his heartbeat and the shockwaves of the drums.
He yelled into Puck’s ears how much he loved him, how everything was fine and beautiful and this is awesome, man , knowing all the while that it had to end, that he had to be some kind of item on Puck’s checklist of things to do, he might be running out of genres to explore, after MILFs and lesbians and strippers and chubby girls and singers and geeks and boys, he’d looked at Dave and thought, there’s something I haven’t tried, a chubby geeky jock with anger management issues . And the beautiful thing about tonight was that it didn’t even hurt, because nothing hurt and Puck was the most beautiful of all.
***
And in the end nothing happened, he went home alone and went to bed quietly, and then lay there in the dark grinning at the roof until he fell asleep.
The next morning, he woke up to the light, dry, barely-there touches of his roommate throwing bits of paper at his naked chest and watching them bounce off. He lay there for a while wondering what to do about it before he’d even acknowledge that he was awake. “The hell are you doing,” he grunted.
Tony grinned down at him with what had to be an unhealthy amount of energy for that early. “Dude, it’s Thursday, remember?” They’d stumbled around each other trying to make it on time enough Thursday mornings to know that part of the each other’s schedules. “Unhg,” Dave replied, trying to see the time on his phone without using more muscles than absolutely necessary. “I set my alarm, my alarm didn’t go off yet.”
“No, I know.” Tony picked a piece of paper off the bed next to him, only so he could throw it again. “But I knew you’d want to tell me all about your hot date before you leave, so I decided to do you a favor and wake you up early.”
Dave turned over and buried his face in his pillow. “Not a date,” he said, but the sound was obviously muffled. A piece of paper landed on his back and stayed there. He sighed and sat up. The alarm would go off in a few minutes anyway.
“So? How was it?”
Dave didn’t answer, but apparently something showed on his face.
“Oh, so it’s like that.” Tony shook his head. “I’m not even going to ask right now, because this is going to take way more than five minutes, and then I’ll be late, and I’ll have to sit in the back next to the spitting thermos guy, and that’s just not okay. Good luck, man.” He got up and headed for the bathroom, leaving Dave to stare at his back and try to make sense of the world. It didn’t work, so he rolled out of bed instead and started picking up books and clothes in no particular order. If he wanted to go to the gym he should probably pack a bag now, no time to go back for it. He thought maybe that was what he needed to feel a little less awful. And maybe... no. Shoes, shirt, shorts, water bottle. Don’t think about it.
He even made it to class on time.