Title: The Space That's in Between Insane and Insecure
Characters/Pairings: Puck, Blaine; minor appearances by Rachel, Santana, Lauren, Kurt, Mike, Finn; Puck/Quinn, Puck/Lauren, Blaine/Kurt
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers/Warnings: through 3x08; language, mentions of violence, homophobia
Word Count: ~8,000
Disclaimer: Title is from the song "Jesus Of Suburbia/City Of The Damned/I Don't Care/Dearly Beloved/Tales Of Another Broken Home" by Green Day.
Summary: Based off this prompt on the awk meme. Puck and Blaine meet at fight club and so begin a weird friendship.
A/N: Thank you to flyblckbirdfly for bringing the prompt to my attention and thank you to everyone who supported me and cheered me on while writing this fic.

The Space That's in Between Insane and Insecure
Puck first 'heard' about fight club when he was in sixth grade, eavesdropping on some upperclassmen compare bruises under the bleachers. It's something that Puck always wanted to do and he counted down the days until he could start high school and really join.

In his first fight, he knocked a junior out cold and for a week; he was invincible. At least until the next week when a senior challenged him and he got a bruised rib – football practice was a bitch for almost a month.

Fight club has become part of Puck's routine, something to look forward to in order to let out steam (at least more steam than he already lets out on the losers and nerds at McKinley).

(And with Quinn being pregnant and claiming it's Finn's, well. He's needed this more than usual.)

He usually likes to fight every week, but sometimes he'll get a bruised rib or get a concussion that will force him to stand back and watch, but his absolute favorite thing to do is to challenge newcomers.

But honestly, he almost laughs out loud when he sees a short guy – he must be five-foot-four, not even – walk in with those preppy schoolboys that are surprisingly regular members. Even though they never wear their uniforms, they just reek of privilege and high-end education. The little guy, however, doesn't really, now that he's standing in better lighting. Sure, his hair is practically glued to his head, but he seems nervous and doesn't look like he quite belongs with the people he's standing with.

"It seems we have a new member," the fight club's de-facto leader, Durden (it's a cover name since he's wanted by the cops for even starting this in the first place (so he says)), announces, effectively silencing everyone who was talking.

The short guy's eyes widen and wow, his eyebrows are kind of ridiculous, like something out of one of his geometry assignments that Puck never does. "Hi, I'm –"

"Don't talk. Just listen. The first rule –"

"I'm familiar with the rules of fight club, thank you," the kid responds in a testy manner despite his polite words. Huh.

Durden stares down at the kid for a few seconds, but the kid just gazes back, cool as can be. Probably deciding that it's a hopeless case to really intimidate him, Durden then says, "Then you'll know that you have to take off your shirt and shoes and step into the middle."

The kid nods, pulling off his polo shirt. Puck has to shot himself from all-out gaping at him – the kid has blotchy, striped bruises on his torso that can only come from broken ribs.

Holy shit.

The kid slips out of his old man shoes and walks over to the open center, losing a bit of his nerve as he wrangles his hands in front of him, eyes darting around the circle.

Puck feels kind of bad – the guy is fucking puny in comparison to him – but he's not going to treat him any differently than the other numbskulls, so he steps into the middle, cracking his knuckles.

The kid takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders as Puck walks closer to him until they're within hitting distance of each other.

"When someone says stop, or goes limp, the fight is over," Durden states, stepping back so it's just Puck and the kid in the middle.

After a few seconds of staring, the kid says, "If you don't mind, if you could try to avoid my ribs and my head, I'd appreciate it. Still getting over a bad concussion. Thank you."

Puck's eyes flicker from the kid's gelled hair to that huge, painful-looking bruise before nodding. He's really curious as to what the hell this kid's been through, but that's not the point of fight club. You do what you need to do and there are no questions asked, and it never leaves the circle.

"Alright, shortie, let's see what you can do," Puck mutters, bringing his fists up.

He barely has time to defend himself when the kid tries to nail him with a jab to the shoulder. Puck can tell right off the bat that the kid is fast and has had some lessons in some form of boxing.

The people around him are cheering and yelling, but Puck blocks it out because this kid has intense eyes that can probably scare lesser guys.

Even so, it seems the kid has a bit of trouble moving his torso because of his ribs, or maybe he gets dizzy after a few minutes, but Puck has him on the ground, waiting for the kid to go limp or say 'stop.'

Except he doesn't.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Just give it up," Puck murmurs so no one can hear them.

The kid clenches his jaw and slams one of his hands on the pavement, trying to escape from Puck's hold. "No."

Puck lets out a frustrated sigh. "Come on."

The kid doesn't say anything, just continues to struggle.

"Alright, you asked for it." Puck takes his knee and starts pushing a little into the bruise on the kid's side, causing him to cry out in pain.

"Okay, stop, stop," the kid babbles, his eyes squeezed shut.

Puck immediately gets off him and offers a hand to help him up. The kid takes his time standing up, a hand holding his hurt side, ignoring Puck's hand. Once he's on his feet, Puck follows Blaine out of the circle and two different guys take their places.

"You had a nice hook," Puck says.

The kid whips his head over to Puck, somewhat shocked. "Thanks."

Puck nods. "I'm Puck."

The kid suddenly smiles a little. "Like A Midsummer Night's Dream?"

"Yeah, but I prefer punching people over fucking with people's heads."

The kid raises his triangle eyebrows at Puck (it's not the first time Puck has shocked people with his knowledge of Shakespeare – do people not realize that chicks eat that shit up?) before sticking out his hand. "I'm Blaine."

Puck looks down at the end before taking it, feeling like a businessman or something. What kid does this anyway? "Weird name."

"It's a major appliance."

Puck furrows his brow in confusion. What?

"Sorry…movie reference," Blaine mutters, running a hand through his hair that's falling out of its gelled hold and curling around his forehead.

They don't talk again for the rest of the night, but when Puck gets home, he looks up the Blaine/major appliance reference and in his search, he sees Pretty in Pink come up.

"Well that's gay."

The kid, Blaine, may be a weirdo, but that's to come with those prep school types.

---
It's not until two weeks later does Puck find himself standing next to Blaine and asks him, "How old are you?" because seriously, this guy cannot be in high school.

"Fifteen."

"You're a sophomore?" Puck raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

Blaine clenches his jaw. "Freshman," he answers, his voice flat.

"Oh." Pause. "Were you one of those kindergarteners that are held back a year because you were too small?"

The fight going in front of them ends and Blaine quickly steps in the ring, running a hand through his gel-free curls before bringing his fists up in front of him.

It's one of the more brutal fights of the night and Blaine actually walks away with a sprained finger, but doesn't make a noise about it.

Puck supposes a sprained finger is nothing in comparison to a few broken ribs.

---
The next week, Blaine is watching again, his left index finger in a splint. He's standing with a few of his preppy friends, laughing about something. Even though Puck always thinks Blaine shouldn't be in high school because of his height, his hard eyes and tense brow in the ring say otherwise. But when Blaine's laughing, he actually looks more like a boy.

Puck has no idea why he even gives a flying fuck about this loser.

He jumps into the ring and fights twice, winning both times.

---
Time goes on and Blaine goes less often than in the beginning of the year while Puck is more consistent, in more than one fight a week.

It's almost like they never crossed paths at all.

---
Sometime around February, Blaine is fighting every other person, his eyes flashing with a kind of insanity that Puck doesn't really understand, and it's creepy as hell.

Puck weaves his way through the shirtless guys in order to stand next to one of the preppy kids with an impressive cleft chin. "Is he alright? He's reminding me of this rabid dog that chased my sister into a lake."

The kid rubs his jaw and sighs. "He's just. It's the anniversary of a horrible day for him," he answers, being frustratingly vague.

Blaine wins against another person, but barely. He's doing his best to catch his breath, but he's swaying on his feet and before Puck can even think twice, he's taking a few steps forward and wrapping a steady arm around Blaine's shoulders, guiding him out.

"Dude, you're gonna knock yourself out," Puck mutters, rolling his eyes. "You guys have water?" he asks the kid he was just talking to.

The kid nods quickly and leads them out of the ring to where shirts and shoes are lined up. He hands Blaine a water bottle, an overly concerned expression on his face that sort of reminds Puck of a teenage girl fretting over a boyfriend.

"Thanks, Thad," Blaine breaths, unscrewing the bottle cap and downing over half of it in one go.

Blaine is dripping with sweat – not that it's surprising, given how much he fought tonight – and Puck finds himself intrigued by the bastard.

"Bad day?" Puck asks, because he's a nosy son of a bitch and he wants to know what about today has this guy going psycho.

Blaine snorts, plopping himself on the dirty concrete. "Yeah, you can say that."

Thad looks back and forth between Blaine, confused and hesitant.

"Go, I know you've been itching to fight. Sorry I've been monopolizing," Blaine tells Thad almost sheepishly.

"I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I hurt you," Thad says with a wave of his hand, straightening himself out. "Excuse me, gentleman." And he leaves to fight.

(It's kind of ridiculous that he talks like an old fart, but he's a fucking animal in the circle.)

"I'm sorry if this is…rather rude, but is there a reason why you're being so helpful in a rather…dog-eat-dog environment?"

Puck finally takes a seat next to Blaine, trying to figure out how to explain this. "I dunno, I just…you're kind of. Fuck, what's that word, when you're somehow two different things that don't work and it's confusing?" He prides himself on being smarter than Finn, but he still finds himself lacking vocab that he thinks he should probably know by this point.

"A conundrum?" Blaine suggests.

"Yeah, that's it. That. Like, you come in with your preppy friends, but you don't fight like them. Not that they're bad or anything. You just fight with…more of a purpose, I guess."

Blaine's face twists into a grim smile. "I have a lot of anger issues."

Puck nods in understanding. "Anything to do with your ribs?"

One of Blaine's eyebrows twitches.

"So who was the asshole that did it?"

"…It was three assholes."

Puck's eyes almost bug out of his head. How is this kid alive?

…But maybe that's the scary part: if three guys attacked Blaine like that, broke him, then a part of them, be it big or small, wanted to kill him. And Puck can safely say that he hasn't felt that with any of the dorks, losers, and freaks at McKinley.

Even though hearing about a three-on-one situation makes him feel like a shithead, especially when he thinks about what he's done to Artie last year with the porta-potty.

"Why?"

Blaine furrows his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Why did they beat the shit out of you?"

Puck and Blaine both wince.

"Sorry," Puck mutters.

Blaine stares at Puck for a few seconds, debating, until he says, "Because," while getting to his feet, "I went to a dance with my gay friend."

"Well that was stupid of you." Then it hits Puck. "Unless you're actually gay." He stares up at Blaine, who has his hands curled into fists by his sides, his face guarded.

Puck looks away from Blaine and thinks.

He first feels a hint of disgust – that feeling he always got when he'd see Hummel flouncing down the hallways with his head held high, always acting like he was better than everyone else – but then he starts to feel anger. Despite the shitty fact that Blaine is gay, Puck actually admires him a little, that there's clearly more to him than meets the eye. Especially since Puck thinks there's definitely more to him that so few, if any, recognize (he can relate to that).

Puck looks up again at Blaine and realizes that he's being defensive, making sure he can easily fight back and maybe draw attention from his friends.

"That sucks," Puck manages to say.

Blaine snorts, rubbing his face with a hand. "Yeah."

Puck gets to his feet and watching Blaine take a step back, he asks, "You're not into me, right?"

Blaine's face brightens and Puck thinks he's going to laugh, but then he controls his face into a more neutral expression. "No, I'm not. You're not my type."

"Excuse me, but the Puckasaurus is everyone's type." Holy shit, did Puck actually joke with a gay guy about attracting gays? Next he'll be helping Hummel with his shopping.

But still, it's kind of weird to think about how gay guys would have types just like straight guys and girls.

…There really isn't a point on hating gays, is there?

"Granted, I'm not sure if I have a specific type, but rest assured I won't try to cop a feel during a fight."

Puck laughs so much that he has to lean on Blaine for support.

---
It takes Puck a few days later to realize why Blaine fights.

(He wasn't able to fight back before and is trying to make up for it.)

---
Puck and Blaine actually don't fight each other, that's the odd thing.

After Blaine's first fight, the only other time they got into the ring together, it ended up becoming a joke to see how many passes the other can make (Puck started it). It ended with their crumpled on the floor in hysterics. Durden told them to cut the shit and they'll be banned from fight club if they did it again.

"He's probably jealous that I grabbed your crotch," Puck mutters under his breath.

Blaine collapses onto the ground and laughs-slash-wheezes because Puck did grab a little too tightly a minute ago.

---
"What happened to the mohawk?" Blaine asks, looking as if he wants to rub Puck's head, but ultimately decides not to. (Probably because of the height difference.)

"Mom thought there was a mole. She was wrong," Puck mutters, scowling.

Blaine is clearly trying to not laugh as he pats Puck's back. "You can grow it back. It's not awful, though."

Puck ruffles Blaine's free curls. "At least I don't have a 'fro. You sure you're not a Jew?"

"I'm sure."

"You can be an honorary Jew."

Blaine's smile is almost a little too bright and it kind of hurts, that this kid really wants to be part of something, anything.

---
Regionals are getting closer and Quinn can't get much bigger and fuck, he wasn't supposed to have a timestamp on his growing up.

He's been doing a lot of thinking about all the stupid shit he's done in the past, wondering why the hell he thought he was cool for any of it.

Mostly he can't stop thinking about how he used to gang up on others with the football team, throwing slushies at losers and tossing them into dumpsters, that Blaine was one of those losers at another school.

All these thoughts have been driving him crazy, but he can't do anything. He can't even bring himself to walk into the ring and fight because he actually kind of wants to talk.

"Hey, are you okay?" Blaine asks as he walks over to Puck, running his forearm across his sweaty forehead. Puck didn't even realize that Blaine was fighting, for Christ's sake.

"Yeah…just thinkin'."

Blaine exhales. "About?"

Puck scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip slowly. "It's a long story."

Blaine shrugs. "I have time."

So Puck tells him briefly about Quinn and knocking her up and needing to grow up right the fuck now if he's going to be a better dad than his own. He talks to him about what he was like before joining a glee club and how he's changing, starting to feel more like a man, but so much more like a boy too and it's just. Everything is really fucked up.

"It probably means I shouldn't be a dad, huh?"

"I don't think anyone should be a dad at sixteen, but. Puck, you're not a bad person," Blaine tells him, his eyes shining like someone out of a cartoon, but it's genuine. "You've done bad things, but you're not bad."

Puck grabs Blaine by the bicep and pulls him back so there's a greater space between them and the rest of the guys.

"You're really too trusting – y'know that? I was just as bad as those dickwads that…" Puck gestures towards Blaine's torso, "to you."

Blaine inhales and exhales, looking down at the space between them. "Do you know how I know you're a good guy, Puck?"

Puck shakes his head, feeling like a five-year-old.

"My first day in fight club, my very first fight, I saw you walk in and I thought to myself, 'holy crap, I'm going to get killed by this kid with a mohawk and biceps the size of tanks.'"

Puck smiles. Hell yeah, his arms are huge.

"But…even though you looked so intimidating to me, you actually listened to me and avoided hitting where I got hurt. Except when I was on the ground and was being a jackass." Blaine smiles at Puck, patting him on the arm. "Your heart's in the right place."

Puck nods again before pulling Blaine into a tight hug, taking Blaine by surprise. "Thanks, dude."

Blaine returns the hug and Puck has to try pretty hard not to cry.

---
"…'Cuz I'm pretty sure we can take both of you."

"Yeah, but can you take all of us?" Puck says, his fists clenched by his side as he glares down at Azimio and Karofsky.

He stands in a metallic silver and black get up with face paint and a wig on, pretty much promising himself that he won't do that to someone and he won't let it happen again.

(He makes no promises about Jacob Ben Israel because he's a major creep and tool.)

---
Puck arrives at fight club needing to break skulls.

With Beth being born and Quinn giving her away to not placing at Regionals, losing glee club for good, Puck has never felt less in control of his own life. So he's the first one to step up and crack his knuckles, ready to take his life back by the fucking balls.

And even after fighting three people, he beats Durden in less than two minutes, something that's never done.

The only bad thing is that no one wants to take Puck on now.

At least until Blaine steps into the middle, his eyes calm and steady as he crouches into a read position.

"Get out, Blaine, I'm not going to fight you."

"I don't see anyone else stepping in." Blaine gestures Puck to come at him. "Come on, I won't break."

But he has been broken, Puck wants to argue, but right now, Blaine's stupid hair and ridiculous eyebrows are feeding into his anger, so he charges over and lets out steam.

Puck feels like a totally shithead for it, but he enjoys it and finally steps out of the center, Blaine's arm wrapped around Puck's neck as he helps Blaine out.

"Better?" Blaine asks, spitting out blood.

"Yeah."

"Good."

---
Fight club doesn't happen during the summer, but Puck doesn't really mind because he's got Quinn, which is really the best thing going on for him.

---
But eventually he fucks that up (he doesn't know how, so maybe he's not really to blame here?), and there's fight club again, making his days a little more bearable.

Durden has graduated and moved on – maybe to the fight club for adults, maybe he left the state, who knows – and now there's another guy who's taken his place. He's kind of an idiot and has Puck thinking about taking over next year.

Blaine comes in five minutes later with only two of his friends.

"Hey, Puck," Blaine greets him with a bright smile.

"Where's the rest of your crew?" Puck asks, nodding towards the guys behind him.

"Oh," Blaine flushes, "I started a branch of fight club at my school. Some people are interested, but are…intimidated by this."

"Seriously?"

"It's more controlled – there are stricter rules on making sure injuries can be hidden by the uniform, things like that."

Puck snorts, draping an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "Come on, you gotta check out our new 'leader' – he's a moron."

Blaine rolls his eyes. "Marvelous."

"I'm going to kick your ass for saying that."

"I'd like to see you try."

It seems they still can't take fighting each other seriously because after a minute, they just start making ridiculous faces and throwing punches in slow motion.

They're thrown out and told to come back in two weeks.

---
Puck thinks he's doing okay, all things considering: McKinley's football team is actually winning for once, his family is doing pretty well, he's still popular despite his involvement with glee club…

But there's a restlessness under his skin that's not going away, no matter how many times he fights in fight club and sometimes, he thinks it's because of Quinn, who wears her Cheerios uniform and pretends nothing happened last year. Maybe it's the what ifs and wonderings about Beth.

Can guys get post-partum depression, or is that only a thing that chicks get?

Even so, it's not until he's in his cell, sitting on a cheap bed does he realize how not okay he actually is.

---
When Puck is on the ground, a kid who is somehow on steroids completely overpowering him, he thinks about Blaine and how he kind of gets it now.

He doesn't know what broken ribs feel like, but he can definitely claim that getting a nipple piercing ripped out hurts like a motherfucker.

---
He's let out on parole due to good behavior and he's allowed to go back to school, but he has to stay out of trouble, which he can do (try).

But there's no way in hell he's going to stop going to fight club. Even though Puck's trying to change himself – not be that douchebag who tries to steal ATMs just because he's bored and maybe a little desperate for one reason or another – he refuses to give that part of his life up.

Besides, he's learned a few moves in juvie that he wants to try out.

---
Instead of a big, happy greeting like Puck was expecting, Blaine marches over to Puck and sucker punches him in the stomach.

"The hell?" Puck wheezes, doubled over in agony.

"You're not stupid, Puck, but damn it, what you did was so, so stupid."

Finally after a minute, Puck manages to straighten himself out, which is when Blaine pulls Puck into a tight hug.

"Are you okay?" Blaine demands in a quiet voice.

"Yeah," Puck responds automatically, but it's off and not quite honest.

He thinks Blaine understands what he means because he hugs him for a few seconds longer.

---
The next fight club meet up, Blaine comes in with a dark expression on his face, something Puck hasn't seen since February, and he corners him about it.

"I just…" Blaine sighs, running a hand through his hair before pulling at it from the back. "I met this guy who went through – who is going through this bullying at school. It brought back bad memories." He brushes past Puck. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to hit someone."

Puck lets him go and holy shit, he's pretty sure the poor bastard Blaine is fighting with is going to need stitches on his eyebrow.

---
After that, the next time Puck sees Blaine is during Sectionals, walking through the lobby in a dorky as fuck uniform with a few guys he recognizes from fight club.

What the fuck?

He wants to go after him, but rule number one: you don't talk about fight club.

Eventually the shock wears away and anger is replaced because this guy stole Kurt from them when they needed him.

"Come on, Puck, we have to support Kurt," Mike mutters as Blaine hops around like a dickwad across the stage.

Blaine probably recognizes Puck during New Directions' performance. Puck tries to find him in the audience, but he's not in any of the first few rows, so he just imagines his gob smacked expression, which allows him to smile properly on stage.

---
"It's a tie! You're both going to Regionals!"

After high-fiving Finn and Mike, giving Sam a side-hug, and fist-bumping Artie, he sneaks a glance over at the Warblers, watching as Blaine shakes Mr. Schue's hand, an affable smile on his face.

Puck plans on punching it off in a few days.

---
Blaine beats him to it at the next fight club: he strides right up to Puck and punches him in the jaw.

"The fuck –"

"I thought you said you were going to stop bullying other people, that you were going to stop bullying from happening," Blaine growls, grabbing Puck by the front of his shirt and leading him to the middle.

Their de facto, idiot leader starts saying, "Only two people can fight at –"

"Excuse me, but would you mind waiting a few minutes?" Blaine asks the two guys already in the middle, extra polite but there's a threatening undertone that Puck has to admire.

They walk out without a word so it's just Puck and Blaine.

"I don't know why you're angry – we only tied because you have Kurt –" Puck starts, but Blaine is already attacking him.

"You let the bullying get that bad – what kind of friends are you?" Blaine grits as he jabs him multiple times in the abdomen.

Puck manages to grab one of Blaine's wrists and twist it. "I was in juvie for two months – my life is kind of a fuckin' mess at the moment."

"His life was threatened."

"We didn't know about it!"

Swing and miss. Side stepping around one another in a circle.

"I know you don't care about grades, Puck, but you're not stupid."

(But it sounds more like he is accusing him of stupidity in between the words anyway.)

Rush forward and jab. Skims Puck's side.

"Why don't you just go fuck off with your preachy bullshit," Puck yells, kneeing Blaine in the stomach. "You're such a fake; it makes me want to beat the shit out of you. Does anyone else realize that? Does Hummel? Because he's the smartest kid I know and he'll find out at one point –"

Puck blames his getting knocked off his feet on realizing that Blaine was definitely crying under all the sweat dripping from his hair onto his face.

---
Blaine doesn't show up at fight club the next week.

Good riddance.

---
Nor the next.

Nor the next.

Nor the next.

---
Puck figures Blaine must be going to the Dalton branch of fight club instead, but there's no way that's nearly as cathartic as this one.

He'll be back after New Year's.

---
"Alright, who told you about the fielding rules?" Puck asks Rachel after glee club ends for the day. "There's no way in hell you knew."

"Oh, Kurt's Warbler friend Blaine did. You guys should help me bake my famous sugar cookies for him in thanks for saving the game," she tells him before yammering about something else.

He knows Blaine isn't doing it for Puck – he's doing it for everyone else in New Directions because Blaine's that stupidly nice guy, despite Puck acting like a total ass.

During the game, he considers finding Blaine afterwards, thanking him, but there's no way either of them can explain why the fuck they'd be interacting in the first place.

So Puck tries to catch his eye a few times from the distance, but Blaine doesn't notice and it just makes Finn ask what he's looking for.

(The guy is as dumb as a fence post and yet he's shrewd at the worst times.)

---
Puck expects Blaine to come back now, but he still doesn't.

(No, he's not disappointed; he's just surprised the kid's lasting this long.)

---
Puck didn't expect this thing at Breadstix to involve the Warblers, but here he is on his friend-date with Lauren, not even five feet away from Blaine.

He's still pretty shocked that Blaine has a set of pipes, but Jesus-Fucking-Christ, is he the only guy in that group who sings?

At one point, Puck goes outside to smoke a cigarette, Santana already out smoking a cigar. They exchange glances once and nod before smoking in silence.

They were never much for talking anyway.

As Santana goes inside, Blaine is heading out.

"Careful Gargler, you don't want your gelled hair to combust into flames," she tells him.

"You stole that from me – getting lazy?" Puck calls after her as Blaine furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"Whatever, fat fetishist."

"Fuck you."

Santana throws a middle finger in the air before shutting the door shut behind them.

Blaine crosses his arms, no doubt his blazer doing little to block the cold.

"Hey," Puck finds himself saying, even though he thought he was going to wait for Blaine to say something because, hello, he found him.

Blaine nods. "Hey," he responds before pursing his lips.

Puck exhales the smoke away from Blaine, but the wind picks up and the smoke manages to get in his face anyway.

To Blaine's credit, he just grimaces and fans the smoke away. "So, you and Lauren…"

Puck nods. "Yeah. Well, kind of. I'm working on it."

"That's nice. I haven't met her personally, but she seems…nice."

Puck snorts, but lets the comment go. "You think you can get me a discount at the Gap? I need a new pair of khakis."

Blaine shoots Puck an impressive glare before it melts into a look of concern. "Everyone knows?"

"Oh yeah."

Blaine exhales sharply through his nose.

"Hey, it's how McKinley works. Consider yourself an honorary member."

Puck finishes his cigarette looking ahead, not needing to look to know that Blaine is smiling to himself in one way or another.

"I'm sorry," Blaine says, looking Puck directly in the eye. "I shouldn't have gone off like that on you."

Puck shrugs. "It's cool. I'm sorry too."

Silence.

"So…are you coming back to fight club?" Puck murmurs, dropping his cigarette onto the ground and squashing it.

"Yes," Blaine answers immediately, making them both laugh.

"There you are – Wes has been looking for you."

Puck and Blaine whip their heads to see Kurt standing in the now open doorway, an eyebrow raised. "What are you two doing?"

Puck glances at Blaine and oh, guess Blaine hasn't told Kurt about fight club (well, of course, first rule of fight club…), but still. Thinking quickly on his feet, Puck answers, "I was just telling Blaine here that if it weren't for me, you two wouldn't have met. So yeah, you can thank me now."

Kurt rolls his eyes and Blaine looks at Puck with wide eyes, no doubt probably thinking that it is a little like fate, isn't it?

(Puck holds back on the marriage comment he had planned because he just got his friendship with Blaine back. He'll save it for another time.)

---
Yeah, Puck is drunk, but Blaine is totally gone.

Which is kind of a problem because he's getting very touchy with the people of New Directions he's close with: Kurt, Finn, Rachel, Mercedes…and now Puck, which can't really happen because they're not supposed to know each other, damn it.

"Puck, we should like, hang out outside of ev'thing," Blaine slurs, his eyes shining and unfocused as he grips his shoulder.

"Dude, y'need to shut up. But yeah. Like. We should go to the arcade," Puck agrees, wishing he didn't have Lauren's glasses on his face because they're making everything so blurry and weird.

"Do what?"

"The arcade. Just. Foosball."

"Yes – that's the best idea since – the like you know those pizzas with the cheese inside the crust? That."

"Oh my God, fuck you, I want one so bad now."

Blaine pouts. "I do too."

"We should totes raid the fridge."

"Totesally."

Puck doesn't really remember much else about that night.

Except he thinks Rachel was wearing some weird costume that's probably a criminal offense to own in at least ten countries.

---
The next time they see each other outside of fight club, it's after Regionals and Puck throws his arms around Kurt and Blaine.

"Your duet was beautiful," Puck hisses in their ears.

Kurt is frozen in his embrace, but Blaine laughs under his breath and pats Puck's back a few times. "Thank you, Puck," Blaine responds politely, but he squeezes Puck's arm when he pulls away, his eyes fucking sparkling with emotions and how the fuck can a person do that?

And since he saw them holding hands earlier, he says, "You can thank me for basically setting you guys up."

Kurt flushes and is about to no doubt yell at him, but Blaine wraps an arm around Kurt's shoulders. "And we're grateful you convinced Kurt to spy on us. We have to go – it's a long ride to Westerville."

As they walk away, Blaine looks back and shoots Puck a large grin.

---
Things are fine and manageable until prom, where Puck takes it upon himself to watch out for Blaine. If he sees anyone messing with him or Hummel, heads will fucking roll, parole be damned.

"What are you looking at, Puckerman?"

Puck whips his head back to Lauren, who has a dangerous glare on her face. Uh oh.

"Nothing," he automatically responds, which is a big mistake because her eyes narrow even more.

Then she looks past him, trying to follow his line of vision. He doesn't know which would be worse – her conveniently finding a hot chick, or really figuring out that he was staring at –

"Kurt and Blaine?" she asks, stunned. "Why?"

Shit. She absolutely cannot know about fight club, which is really the only reason that can explain why he's giving a crap about both of them. If it weren't for fight club, he'd only care about Blaine just because Kurt does, and he owes Kurt a lot for all the crap Puck put him through.

"I just – want to make sure nothing happens to him."

"Him?"

"Them," Puck corrects, wincing. Fuck, he sucks at this – the whole lying thing used to come pretty easily to him, but he physically can't with Lauren, which is new and awkward.

"No, you said him. Who – Kurt?"

He takes a beat too long to agree (see? He sucks).

"Blaine? Since when are you buddy-buddy with Mr. A Cappella?"

"He's…have you seen him? He can't defend Kurt when he's about the size of a gnome!"

Lauren scrunches her face and shakes her head. "Nah, I'm calling bullshit on that." She grabs him by the blazer and starts leading him off the dance floor.

"Are we going to make out?"

"No, you're going to be honest with me and tell me what's going on. And if you don't, you can bet you'll never get your mouth anywhere near this," she gestures toward her face and body with one hand, "again."

They walk out of the gym towards the lockers, crossing her arms as she stares down at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I can't talk about it," he mumbles, looking down at his feet.

"You can't t –" her eyes widen for a moment before she rolls them and shoves Puck with one hand. He stumbles back a foot. "Are you kidding me, Puckerman? Fight club?"

"Shhh!" Puck hisses. "You know the first rule."

"Bitch, please, I've been going to fight club since I was thirteen."

His jaw drops. "But – I haven't –"

"I've been going to the post-high school meet ups since I was a frosh."

Puck doesn't know whether to be ridiculously impressed because, holy shit, his girlfriend has bigger balls than anyone he knows, or jealous because that was always his dream – to be told he had to move up a class.

"So you met little short stuff in fight club?" Lauren laughs. "Impressive."

Giving up, he nods. "Yeah. I've known him for over a year. He's…he's really fucking brave for coming here. He hasn't had it easy. Being gay."

Usually it takes some time for Puck to get subtle things, but for Lauren, it takes her seconds. Her lips part in a gasp. "No."

He nods, anger filling his gut.

"Do you know what school he went to before Dalton?"

He blinks at the question, wondering why she would possibly want to know. "No?"

"Find out for me." Then she smiles, reaching out for his hand, pulling him into a kiss that makes his head spin. "Come on, let's play bodyguards since Lopez and Karofsky aren't doing their jobs tonight."

---
Puck only knows how to block physical blows; he's out of his league here.

How are you supposed to protect people from this? The kind of hate that crowns a dude as a queen for a laugh? And how is he supposed to protect anyone from the kind of fear that makes a guy's right hand tremble by his side as he holds his left out for his boyfriend to take?

He hasn't felt this helpless since he and Quinn walked away from Beth last year and it sucks.

At the end of the night when they're walking back to their cars, Puck and Lauren lead Kurt and Blaine to Kurt's Navigator. Puck wraps an arm around Blaine's shoulders and squeezes briefly but tightly. "You were fucking awesome."

Blaine let's out a shuddering breath. "I was so scared," he admits quietly.

"Yeah, but, that's what makes it badass. You and Hummel are badasses of the night. Take pride."

Once Kurt and Blaine are in the car, Lauren laces her hand with Puck's as they walk back to her car. "Sometimes you surprise me, Puckerman."

"So, are we heading to Breadstix?"

"No."

Puck furrows his eyebrows at her. "Then…where are we going?"

"If you keep your mouth shut, it'll end up being good. Now hush."

It's not until they're halfway to her house does he realize that he may be getting some serious action tonight. Oh yeah.

He'll have to be sure to thank Blaine next week.

---
Summer involves a few hangouts – not with everyone, but a good number of them (Quinn notably missing). Blaine comes along most of the time and Puck makes it his duty to tackle him at every opportunity, much to Kurt's horror.

Whatever, he doesn't understand the connection they have.

…That's kind of gay, isn't it?

Whatever.

(Why did he used to care about that shit to begin with? Why does anyone care?)

---

At one point before fight club meets in September, he gets a mysterious text saying that he's the de facto leader. He doesn't know how that works, but whatever, it doesn't matter because this is awesome.

He knows he's not supposed to talk about it, but this is huge shit. So he texts Blaine and says "LEADER OF U NO WUT SON!"

From Blaine:
!!!!!!!!

From Blaine:
Hopefully this doesn't mean you've developed a second personality and will proceed to blow up all the credit card companies.

From Puck:
Fuck you.

From Blaine:
Yay, you've properly spelled 'you' in a text! I'm so proud.

From Puck:
If u start complainin bout a crotch grab in sept just remember this.

From Blaine:
;)

From Puck:
Add a wet willy for that bs.

From Blaine:
YOU WOULDN'T DARE.

From Puck:
;)

From Blaine:
Touché.

---
Frankly, Puck wishes Blaine had talked about transferring with him because this is serious business. It's one thing to pretend he doesn't know Blaine during the weekend or whatever, but it's another to pretend everyday. It's a lot of work. And having to keeping at least an eye on him is going to eat up his time.

Did he totally forget what happened to him, what made him join fight club in the first place? Jumping around in those red pants and acting like…that is going to get him killed.

Also, on a totally selfish level, he doesn't like the idea of New Directions turning into the second coming of the Warblers. He really hates wearing collared shirts and ties and he'll kick his own ass if he puts on a pair of loafers.

"Do you agree with Finn – that I'm going to steal solos?" Blaine murmurs as they walk to the first week of fight club together.

Puck shrugs. "You'd have a hard time doing it since Schue has a hard-on for eighties hits and not much of Top 40."

Blaine stops walking staring at Puck with a betrayed expression on his face. "You do."

"Blaine, come on –"

"No, I mean, why shouldn't you believe that?" Blaine retorts, his words loaded and shit, Puck is a total ass, but it's his senior year and he likes how things are in New Directions.

Blaine just shakes his head and turns on his heel, walking away.

"Blaine! What are you going to do – you can't go to the Dalton fight club –"

"I don't need any of it."

"Bullshit."

But Blaine keeps on walking.

---
Puck does his best to block out Finn's obvious hatred of Blaine, which ends up being pretty easy to do since he gets tied up with Quinn and Shelby and Beth. He doesn't have time to be concerned about how people are treating him. Besides, Blaine's a big boy; he can handle himself.

---
"Hey, Puck, I got Blaine to dance with me on 'Hot for Teacher' – he's a quick learner, so we should have it ready in a few days," Mike says as a greeting at Puck's locker.

Puck freezes midway through closing his locker. "Seriously?"

"Is…that a problem?" Mike asks with a frown.

"Uh no, I mean, if he's fine with it, that's cool," Puck mutters, pulling out his phone.

From Puck:
Thanks 4 doin the number

From Blaine:
Mike asked me to do it with him – couldn't exactly say no to the one guy who doesn't think I'm engaging in a pissing contest with all the male members, so.

Not knowing how to respond to that, he puts away his phone.

---
Puck totally forgets sometimes that Blaine probably has the best mask. Can anyone even tell that Blaine is going through a rough time?

(Does Hummel?)

But it always slips his mind because he has his family to think about, wondering if Quinn can ever really be part of it as long as Shelby's around, which he wants her to be, and it's kind of a lot to deal with.

So it's kind of a shock when he watches Blaine totally lose it at glee club. It's weird to see that expression and that shove here and not in the middle of fight club. It's blurring a weird line between universes that shouldn't mix at all.

He's about to go after him, but then he remembers he can't because they still don't know each other.

So no one goes after him.

It sits wrong with him, but if he knows one thing about Blaine, it's that he needs to lets out steam before he's ready to talk.

Glee ends early and Puck sends a text reading "4 wut its worth his body rolls rnt that great mike's bettr wit dancin."

A few hours later, Puck gets a response from him:

From Blaine:
Mike puts us all to shame.

From Puck:
Truth.

From Puck:
Im sorry 4 being a dick. I sucked as a friend.

From Blaine:
You haven't been having the easiest time either.

From Blaine:
It's okay. And I'm sorry too.

From Puck:
Bros?

From Blaine:
Bros.

Grinning, Puck is about to ask if he can get a ride to fight club next week when his phone buzzes with a new text.

From Finn:
So blaine is in a fight club wut the hell

Puck's eyes bug out of his head.

From Puck:
Wut?

From Finn:
I went to talk to him bout bein a ass nd he sed he was in Dalton fight club

From Puck:
He was kidding dude. Its call a joke.

From Finn:
Yea ok

Sighing relief, he composes a new text.

From Puck:
U got some splaning to do – y the fuq did u tell finn bout fight club??

From Blaine:
Let's be serious, Puck, he'll forget about it by the end of the week since everyone seems to have weeklong memory retentions.

Puck hates it when Blaine gets smart on him, but he likes how he says the easy the smart things at the same time, so he doesn't make people feel like they're stupid.

(Even though he can be a condescending prick, but that's something else.)

From Finn:
Wait rnt u in a fight club 2

Puck gapes at his phone – so much for not remembering anything. His phone then vibrates with an incoming call – Finn.

"What are you talking about, dude?" Puck asks, trying to play dumb.

"I totally remember you at a party talking about how you punched a guy out at fight club! Is there more than one? Did you know Blaine before everyone else? Oh my god, I totally have to tell Kurt –" Finn rants, making Puck want to bash his head against the wall.

"Don't tell Hummel! I don't even know if Blaine's even told him –" Oh fuck he basically just confirmed everything didn't he? "And if you do, I'll tell Hummel that you broke one of his collection figurines."

"Hey! You can't do that! And what would it even matter – he glued it back together!"

"You think Hummel will care once he knows who broke it?"

He can hear Finn grumbling on the other line. Success.

"Fine. We'll take it to the grave."

"Cool. Wanna play Halo this weekend?"

"Yeah, I can do it Saturday night."

"Awesome. See ya."

Puck hangs up and sends another text to Blaine.

From Puck:
U owe me big – totally stopped finn from telling kurt bout fight club.

From Blaine:
Oh, that's sweet, but you didn't have to do that – he already knows I do it. He doesn't exactly like it, but he understands, which is the most important thing.

From Puck:
SRSLY? Great now I can use my thing on him as blackmail. Thanks bro.

From Blaine:
You're welcome?

From Puck:
C u at fight club?

From Blaine:
Yeah :)

Puck's sort of tempted to send a smiley face back, but that's stupid (not gay – he's learned that gay and stupid aren't the same), so he just settles for grinning to himself.

…Which is pretty stupid too, but at least no one is here to witness it.

---
"Hey."

"Hey."

Blaine grins, cracking his knuckles. "Ready?"

Puck cranes his head from side-to-side, cracking his neck. "Born ready. Come at me, bro."

And the first punch is thrown.