Intervention (Glee/SPN Metaverse)
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, but I do own some really badass jackets. Puck would approve.
Characters/Pairings: Finn, Puck/Kurt, Brittana, Mercedes, Rachel, ensemble (Glee). Winchester brothers/awesome jackets (Supernatural).
Warnings: pairings of every sort, all-caps droppage of the F-bomb by Santana, unabashed worship of the Supernatural wardrobe department
Rating: T/PG-13
Word Count: 2461
Summary: When Finn starts letting Rachel dress him, the gleeks intervene.
Author's Notes: This takes place in the same universe as " Point of No Return" and " Dream a Little Dean," but you don't have to read those to understand this. (Though you'll get more of the jokes if you do.) The POV shifts back and forth between Puck and Finn in this one; I hope it's not too hard to follow. Dedicated, once again, to Candie Girl, who is totally responsible for the fact that my plot bunnies are multiplying like... well, you know.
It was pretty much a whisper, so Puck was the only one who heard him. And that might have been because Puck was actively staring at his mouth. (What? No he wasn’t. Whatever.) Anyway, what Kurt said was, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Puck’s first reaction was to note that the F-bomb sounded damned sexy coming from that pretty mouth. His second was to follow Kurt’s disgusted gaze to the door of the choir room, where Finn and Rachel had just entered. Wearing matching sweaters. Matching bunny rabbit sweaters.
Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
Kurt looked decidedly nauseated, and Puck honestly couldn’t blame him. He opened his mouth to comment, but Santana beat him to it.
“What the fucking hell, Finn? Is that a fucking BUNNY RABBIT on your sweater? Oh my god, it is! THERE IS A FUCKING FLUFFY BUNNY ON YOUR SWEATER, HUDSON! This is totally unacceptable! Seriously, I….”
There was more after that, including an impassioned (and very high-pitched) rebuttal from Rachel, but Puck was distracted by the sudden presence of Kurt’s manicured hand on his thigh. Now, normally this would be a good thing, right? Right, obviously, but this time said hand was clamped down hard enough to leave bruises. Maybe even hard enough to draw blood. Puck grimaced and surreptitiously grabbed Kurt’s hand in his own.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered. “I got this.”
***
The next day, Finn sauntered innocently into the Hudson-Hummel living room in hopes of indulging in some Saturday morning cartoons. He was more than a little surprised to find half the glee club waiting for him. Kurt, Mercedes, Brittany, and Santana were all lined up in a row on the sofa, and Puck was standing in the center of the room, arms crossed ominously over his chest.
“Finn,” his best friend said. “This is an intervention.”
What the hell?
Mercedes took a more sympathetic tone, obviously trying to be supportive. “Honey, we love you, but your fashion choices lately? Are not working for us.”
“The bunny sweater was the last straw,” added Santana.
“Yeah,” Brittany agreed, “It made you look homeschooled. And you’re not homeschooled, Finn. You go to McKinley. With me and Santana. And it’s not okay to wear sweaters like that to our school, Finn! It’s not okay!” Brittany looked like she was about to cry. Santana wrapped a protective arm around her girlfriend and snarled up at Finn with a face that clearly said and no one will ever find your body.
Finn gulped and glanced over at his almost-stepbrother, who had been suspiciously silent throughout this whole ordeal. Kurt was staring gloomily at his hands, which were absently fidgeting with the edge of his paisley silk scarf.
“Kurt?”
“I can’t even look at you right now, Finn. I’m just so disappointed.”
Finn’s mouth was still hanging open in confusion when Puck grabbed him forcefully by the elbow and started dragging him toward the front door. “Get your coat, Hudson. We’re going to the mall.”
***
Finn found himself shoved into the passenger seat of Puck’s old pick-up, following Kurt’s Navigator to a giant shopping mall two towns over. He found the travel arrangements convenient, since he had some questions for his friend.
“Hey Puck, I get why Kurt’s doing this, and Mercedes, obviously. And Britt and Santana, I guess. I mean, Santana did have that giant cow about my sweater yesterday. But… why are you here? Like, since when do you care what I wear?”
Puck didn’t reply. It looked to Finn like he was having some kind of argument with himself inside his head. After a few minutes of silence, he sighed.
“Look, Finn, I could probably say something like, ‘your horrible outfits are totally damaging my badass reputation just by being in the same room with me,’ and you’d believe me, too, because it’s the truth. But it’s not the whole truth. And I’m working on this new thing where I don’t lie so much.”
Finn wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Okaaay. So what’s the real truth?”
Puck stopped at a red light and turned to look Finn square in the eye. “The truth is, I’m here for Kurt.”
Finn’s face crumpled into a familiar mask of confusion. “Kurt? Since when are you friends with Kurt?”
“We’re not exactly friends. Kurt’s my boyfriend. We’re together.”
Puck and Kurt were dating? Since when?
“What? I mean… seriously? But I thought you were… How did that even happen, Puck?”
Puck explained that Kurt had been the one to drive him home from the hospital after Beth was born. They’d sat in the Puckermans’ driveway for two hours that night, Kurt rubbing Puck’s back as he poured his heart out over becoming a teenage father and saying goodbye to his baby girl all in one day. Kurt had been the one to listen to Puck’s grief for all he’d lost and his fears that he’d end up just like his dad, and Kurt had reassured him that he was better than that. Kurt had called him Noah, as if he were too good for the nickname that had become practically synonymous with screw-up.
That summer, they’d started hanging out, and they’d ended up discovering that they actually had a lot in common. They liked the same video games and television shows, and they knew all the same people. They both felt like they were only honest when they were singing. They both knew what it was like to miss a parent, to be an outsider. To lose Finn. To lose to Finn.
And then they’d spent all of Labor Day weekend holed up in Puck’s bedroom, watching a five-season marathon of their favorite TV show. On Friday afternoon, they were friends. By Monday night, they were a couple. And that was that.
Finn listened silently as Puck told him the story. He wasn’t sure what to say. But Puck was looking at him like he expected a response, so he did his best.
“Well… I guess if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. But Puck, Labor Day weekend was two months ago. Why didn’t you guys tell me you were… you know, dating or whatever?”
“Nobody knows, Finn. Not even Mercedes. So you’re actually the first person we’ve told.” Puck paused, made a face. “Although, I think Santana might have figured it out. But that’s just ‘cause she’s Santana and she’s kind of a badass. Not ‘cause me or Kurt said anything to her.”
“Oh. Well, okay. But what does that have to do with how I dress, man? I mean, that’s the part I still don’t get.”
“Oh, that.” The signature smirk was back in place. “It really bothers Kurt that you look like such a dumbass all the time. And Sir Pucksalot can’t have anything upsetting his Princess, now can he? Besides, I’m totally getting rewarded for this, if you know what I’m saying.” Puck winked lecherously.
Finn thought “Sir Pucksalot” sounded like the name of some rich girl’s yappy little dog, but he knew what Puck was saying.
***
Forty-five minutes later, the six of them were seated in the mall’s food court, huddled around a couple mostly-eaten pizzas and a giant three-ringed binder that Kurt had pulled out of his designer bag. The binder was packed with dozens upon dozens of possible “looks” for Finn, each one made up of a handful of carefully labeled pictures clipped from magazines or catalogues or printed from websites.
Puck had no idea when Kurt had put this whole thing together. He wasn’t sure whether he should be amused or terrified. He settled for fascinated.
Kurt and the Mercedes were flipping through the binder slowly, discussing makeover possibilities while Britt, Santana, Puck, and Finn commented confusedly (Brittany, Finn) or snarkily (Santana, Puck). So far, they had rejected The J. Crew New England Sailor Boy Look (Santana: “We live in Ohio, Kurt. Where the hell is he going to sail?”), The Great Gatsby Golf Whites Look (Brittany: “White’s pretty. Like angels and stuff. But what if he gets slushied? Or, like, spills something?”), and The Chuck Bass from Gossip Girl Look (Puck and Finn, in unison: “No!!!”), among others.
Kurt’s next suggestion seemed to be something along the lines of The Overly Enthusiastic Professional Sportscaster Look, but Brittany interrupted. “I think he should dress like Sam,” she said, staring blankly toward the escalators.
“Sam?” Mercedes lifted an eyebrow. “The new kid in glee club? Why? I mean, he’s got nice hair, but his clothes aren’t anything special.”
“Not that Sam. That Sam,” she corrected, and pointed a finger in the direction she’d been staring.
“Holy shit, baby, you’re a genius!” Santana threw her arms around her girlfriend and rewarded her brilliant revelation with a sloppy kiss.
The rest of the group rolled their eyes and turned to see what the two Cheerios were talking about. Halfway between the food court and the escalators was a mall directory flanked by a very large poster advertising the current season of Supernatural, starring Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki as Dean and Sam Winchester.
Puck smirked. Kurt’s eyes lit up and his pretty mouth curled into Puck’s favorite mischievous smile. “You know what, Britt? I think you may be onto something.”
Finn looked befuddled. “What? What is she onto?”
***
No one answered Finn, but Puck and Kurt exchanged a warm, knowing look, and Brittany and Santana grinned as Britt wrapped a lock of her girlfriend’s hair around her finger. Mercedes looked just as confused as he was, though. Finn was somewhat comforted by that.
Puck grabbed one more slice from the box on the table and stood up. “Alright, guys. Follow me,” he said around a mouthful of cheese pizza.
Britt and Santana got up and linked pinkies, following Puck away from the table. Kurt slid his giant binder back into his bag and smiled. “Come along, ‘Cedes. You’ll enjoy this. You too, Finn.”
A few minutes later, the six of them were standing in front of a clothing store Finn had never been in before. The sign over the entrance said Winchester in big capital letters that seemed to be cut out of some kind of sheet metal. It looked pretty cool, actually. One window of the store displayed a giant photograph of two guys leaning against a really awesome vintage Impala.
Finn recognized them, he realized. One was the tall guy from Friday the 13th and House of Wax, and the other was the main dude from My Bloody Valentine. (Yeah, Finn likes horror movies. So what?) Both of them were dressed in jeans, boots, and kinda army-looking coats with lots of pockets. Was this how his friends wanted him to dress?
Finn still didn’t understand the line of reasoning that had gotten them here, but at least it was an improvement over Kurt’s ideas.
***
Puck glanced at the faces of his friends, trying to gauge their reactions to what they were seeing.
Utility jackets were apparently a turn-on for Brittany and Santana; the two cheerleaders were wrapped all around each other in the middle of the shopping mall, exchanging stares so heated Puck was surprised they didn’t actually combust.
Kurt was looking back at Puck, and all of the colors in his face - blue eyes, pink cheeks, cherry lips - seemed bright with happiness. This store brought back good memories for the two of them. Winchester was the official clothing retailer of Supernatural, the show he and Kurt been watching over Labor Day weekend, when they’d finally hooked up after weeks of suppressing their feelings for each other.
He dragged his eyes reluctantly away from Kurt and onto Finn, who seemed confused, but no more so than usual, Puck supposed. And he didn’t look angry. Standing there staring at the photo of the Supernatural stars, he actually looked sort of… pleased? Puck hoped that meant this makeover thing would be a success. That would make Kurt happy, and if Kurt was happy, Puck was happy.
Mercedes, on the other hand, did not look happy. She looked like she was sick and tired of not knowing what was going on. And if Puck had learned one thing about Mercedes in the past year, it was that she always wanted to know what was going on with everyone, even if it was none of her business. Man, he was going to have hell to pay when she finally found out about him and Kurt. Although, to be honest, he didn’t even know why that was still a secret.
“Mercedes,” he asked cautiously, “you okay over there?”
“I want to know why the heck we’re apparently dressing Finn like some floppy-haired pretty boy from a show about monsters. Out of all of the looks we’ve considered, we’re going with this one? Post-apocalyptic utility gear? It’s not exactly high fashion.”
Puck smirked. “Well, it’s simple. First, the Winchesters are total badasses. Neither of those guys would ever be caught dead in a bunny sweater.” Finn blushed and looked at his feet. “Second, Sam is really tall, which means they might actually have some stuff in here that will fit our friendly neighborhood giant without him having to resort to those lame painter’s jeans from Old Navy. Plus,” and now Puck was addressing their friends, “who here thinks Sam Winchester is a total hottie?”
Brittany, Santana, and Kurt - as well as a few college girls who happened to be walking by - all raised their hands. “See?” Puck said, daring anyone to challenge him, “case closed.” Considering the matter settled, he led the group into the store.
***
Monday morning, Finn walked into the choir room wearing dark brown leather harness boots, broken-in Levis in a slim boot cut that flattered his long legs, and a grayish-blue plaid Western shirt, tailored to actually fit his broad shoulders and narrow hips, layered over a soft charcoal gray t-shirt. All of this was topped off with a Winchester military jacket in a dark shade olive green that really suited Finn’s coloring and his tall frame.
Puck was proud to say that his best friend looked like a total badass.
The rest of the club seemed to agree, judging by the round of applause that greeted Finn as he entered the room. Brittany and Santana high fived each other, Mercedes let out a loud whistle, and Rachel gazed at her man with undisguised lust in her eyes.
“Wow, Finn, you look… just… wow.”
Rachel Berry was speechless. Well, that was new.
Puck, seeing that this was as good a time as any to embrace change, threw an arm around a very surprised Kurt Hummel, pulled him in close to his side, and dropped a kiss onto his boyfriend’s perfectly styled hair.
Characters/Pairings: Finn, Puck/Kurt, Brittana, Mercedes, Rachel, ensemble (Glee). Winchester brothers/awesome jackets (Supernatural).
Warnings: pairings of every sort, all-caps droppage of the F-bomb by Santana, unabashed worship of the Supernatural wardrobe department
Rating: T/PG-13
Word Count: 2461
Summary: When Finn starts letting Rachel dress him, the gleeks intervene.
Author's Notes: This takes place in the same universe as " Point of No Return" and " Dream a Little Dean," but you don't have to read those to understand this. (Though you'll get more of the jokes if you do.) The POV shifts back and forth between Puck and Finn in this one; I hope it's not too hard to follow. Dedicated, once again, to Candie Girl, who is totally responsible for the fact that my plot bunnies are multiplying like... well, you know.
It was pretty much a whisper, so Puck was the only one who heard him. And that might have been because Puck was actively staring at his mouth. (What? No he wasn’t. Whatever.) Anyway, what Kurt said was, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Puck’s first reaction was to note that the F-bomb sounded damned sexy coming from that pretty mouth. His second was to follow Kurt’s disgusted gaze to the door of the choir room, where Finn and Rachel had just entered. Wearing matching sweaters. Matching bunny rabbit sweaters.
Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
Kurt looked decidedly nauseated, and Puck honestly couldn’t blame him. He opened his mouth to comment, but Santana beat him to it.
“What the fucking hell, Finn? Is that a fucking BUNNY RABBIT on your sweater? Oh my god, it is! THERE IS A FUCKING FLUFFY BUNNY ON YOUR SWEATER, HUDSON! This is totally unacceptable! Seriously, I….”
There was more after that, including an impassioned (and very high-pitched) rebuttal from Rachel, but Puck was distracted by the sudden presence of Kurt’s manicured hand on his thigh. Now, normally this would be a good thing, right? Right, obviously, but this time said hand was clamped down hard enough to leave bruises. Maybe even hard enough to draw blood. Puck grimaced and surreptitiously grabbed Kurt’s hand in his own.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered. “I got this.”
***
The next day, Finn sauntered innocently into the Hudson-Hummel living room in hopes of indulging in some Saturday morning cartoons. He was more than a little surprised to find half the glee club waiting for him. Kurt, Mercedes, Brittany, and Santana were all lined up in a row on the sofa, and Puck was standing in the center of the room, arms crossed ominously over his chest.
“Finn,” his best friend said. “This is an intervention.”
What the hell?
Mercedes took a more sympathetic tone, obviously trying to be supportive. “Honey, we love you, but your fashion choices lately? Are not working for us.”
“The bunny sweater was the last straw,” added Santana.
“Yeah,” Brittany agreed, “It made you look homeschooled. And you’re not homeschooled, Finn. You go to McKinley. With me and Santana. And it’s not okay to wear sweaters like that to our school, Finn! It’s not okay!” Brittany looked like she was about to cry. Santana wrapped a protective arm around her girlfriend and snarled up at Finn with a face that clearly said and no one will ever find your body.
Finn gulped and glanced over at his almost-stepbrother, who had been suspiciously silent throughout this whole ordeal. Kurt was staring gloomily at his hands, which were absently fidgeting with the edge of his paisley silk scarf.
“Kurt?”
“I can’t even look at you right now, Finn. I’m just so disappointed.”
Finn’s mouth was still hanging open in confusion when Puck grabbed him forcefully by the elbow and started dragging him toward the front door. “Get your coat, Hudson. We’re going to the mall.”
***
Finn found himself shoved into the passenger seat of Puck’s old pick-up, following Kurt’s Navigator to a giant shopping mall two towns over. He found the travel arrangements convenient, since he had some questions for his friend.
“Hey Puck, I get why Kurt’s doing this, and Mercedes, obviously. And Britt and Santana, I guess. I mean, Santana did have that giant cow about my sweater yesterday. But… why are you here? Like, since when do you care what I wear?”
Puck didn’t reply. It looked to Finn like he was having some kind of argument with himself inside his head. After a few minutes of silence, he sighed.
“Look, Finn, I could probably say something like, ‘your horrible outfits are totally damaging my badass reputation just by being in the same room with me,’ and you’d believe me, too, because it’s the truth. But it’s not the whole truth. And I’m working on this new thing where I don’t lie so much.”
Finn wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Okaaay. So what’s the real truth?”
Puck stopped at a red light and turned to look Finn square in the eye. “The truth is, I’m here for Kurt.”
Finn’s face crumpled into a familiar mask of confusion. “Kurt? Since when are you friends with Kurt?”
“We’re not exactly friends. Kurt’s my boyfriend. We’re together.”
Puck and Kurt were dating? Since when?
“What? I mean… seriously? But I thought you were… How did that even happen, Puck?”
Puck explained that Kurt had been the one to drive him home from the hospital after Beth was born. They’d sat in the Puckermans’ driveway for two hours that night, Kurt rubbing Puck’s back as he poured his heart out over becoming a teenage father and saying goodbye to his baby girl all in one day. Kurt had been the one to listen to Puck’s grief for all he’d lost and his fears that he’d end up just like his dad, and Kurt had reassured him that he was better than that. Kurt had called him Noah, as if he were too good for the nickname that had become practically synonymous with screw-up.
That summer, they’d started hanging out, and they’d ended up discovering that they actually had a lot in common. They liked the same video games and television shows, and they knew all the same people. They both felt like they were only honest when they were singing. They both knew what it was like to miss a parent, to be an outsider. To lose Finn. To lose to Finn.
And then they’d spent all of Labor Day weekend holed up in Puck’s bedroom, watching a five-season marathon of their favorite TV show. On Friday afternoon, they were friends. By Monday night, they were a couple. And that was that.
Finn listened silently as Puck told him the story. He wasn’t sure what to say. But Puck was looking at him like he expected a response, so he did his best.
“Well… I guess if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. But Puck, Labor Day weekend was two months ago. Why didn’t you guys tell me you were… you know, dating or whatever?”
“Nobody knows, Finn. Not even Mercedes. So you’re actually the first person we’ve told.” Puck paused, made a face. “Although, I think Santana might have figured it out. But that’s just ‘cause she’s Santana and she’s kind of a badass. Not ‘cause me or Kurt said anything to her.”
“Oh. Well, okay. But what does that have to do with how I dress, man? I mean, that’s the part I still don’t get.”
“Oh, that.” The signature smirk was back in place. “It really bothers Kurt that you look like such a dumbass all the time. And Sir Pucksalot can’t have anything upsetting his Princess, now can he? Besides, I’m totally getting rewarded for this, if you know what I’m saying.” Puck winked lecherously.
Finn thought “Sir Pucksalot” sounded like the name of some rich girl’s yappy little dog, but he knew what Puck was saying.
***
Forty-five minutes later, the six of them were seated in the mall’s food court, huddled around a couple mostly-eaten pizzas and a giant three-ringed binder that Kurt had pulled out of his designer bag. The binder was packed with dozens upon dozens of possible “looks” for Finn, each one made up of a handful of carefully labeled pictures clipped from magazines or catalogues or printed from websites.
Puck had no idea when Kurt had put this whole thing together. He wasn’t sure whether he should be amused or terrified. He settled for fascinated.
Kurt and the Mercedes were flipping through the binder slowly, discussing makeover possibilities while Britt, Santana, Puck, and Finn commented confusedly (Brittany, Finn) or snarkily (Santana, Puck). So far, they had rejected The J. Crew New England Sailor Boy Look (Santana: “We live in Ohio, Kurt. Where the hell is he going to sail?”), The Great Gatsby Golf Whites Look (Brittany: “White’s pretty. Like angels and stuff. But what if he gets slushied? Or, like, spills something?”), and The Chuck Bass from Gossip Girl Look (Puck and Finn, in unison: “No!!!”), among others.
Kurt’s next suggestion seemed to be something along the lines of The Overly Enthusiastic Professional Sportscaster Look, but Brittany interrupted. “I think he should dress like Sam,” she said, staring blankly toward the escalators.
“Sam?” Mercedes lifted an eyebrow. “The new kid in glee club? Why? I mean, he’s got nice hair, but his clothes aren’t anything special.”
“Not that Sam. That Sam,” she corrected, and pointed a finger in the direction she’d been staring.
“Holy shit, baby, you’re a genius!” Santana threw her arms around her girlfriend and rewarded her brilliant revelation with a sloppy kiss.
The rest of the group rolled their eyes and turned to see what the two Cheerios were talking about. Halfway between the food court and the escalators was a mall directory flanked by a very large poster advertising the current season of Supernatural, starring Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki as Dean and Sam Winchester.
Puck smirked. Kurt’s eyes lit up and his pretty mouth curled into Puck’s favorite mischievous smile. “You know what, Britt? I think you may be onto something.”
Finn looked befuddled. “What? What is she onto?”
***
No one answered Finn, but Puck and Kurt exchanged a warm, knowing look, and Brittany and Santana grinned as Britt wrapped a lock of her girlfriend’s hair around her finger. Mercedes looked just as confused as he was, though. Finn was somewhat comforted by that.
Puck grabbed one more slice from the box on the table and stood up. “Alright, guys. Follow me,” he said around a mouthful of cheese pizza.
Britt and Santana got up and linked pinkies, following Puck away from the table. Kurt slid his giant binder back into his bag and smiled. “Come along, ‘Cedes. You’ll enjoy this. You too, Finn.”
A few minutes later, the six of them were standing in front of a clothing store Finn had never been in before. The sign over the entrance said Winchester in big capital letters that seemed to be cut out of some kind of sheet metal. It looked pretty cool, actually. One window of the store displayed a giant photograph of two guys leaning against a really awesome vintage Impala.
Finn recognized them, he realized. One was the tall guy from Friday the 13th and House of Wax, and the other was the main dude from My Bloody Valentine. (Yeah, Finn likes horror movies. So what?) Both of them were dressed in jeans, boots, and kinda army-looking coats with lots of pockets. Was this how his friends wanted him to dress?
Finn still didn’t understand the line of reasoning that had gotten them here, but at least it was an improvement over Kurt’s ideas.
***
Puck glanced at the faces of his friends, trying to gauge their reactions to what they were seeing.
Utility jackets were apparently a turn-on for Brittany and Santana; the two cheerleaders were wrapped all around each other in the middle of the shopping mall, exchanging stares so heated Puck was surprised they didn’t actually combust.
Kurt was looking back at Puck, and all of the colors in his face - blue eyes, pink cheeks, cherry lips - seemed bright with happiness. This store brought back good memories for the two of them. Winchester was the official clothing retailer of Supernatural, the show he and Kurt been watching over Labor Day weekend, when they’d finally hooked up after weeks of suppressing their feelings for each other.
He dragged his eyes reluctantly away from Kurt and onto Finn, who seemed confused, but no more so than usual, Puck supposed. And he didn’t look angry. Standing there staring at the photo of the Supernatural stars, he actually looked sort of… pleased? Puck hoped that meant this makeover thing would be a success. That would make Kurt happy, and if Kurt was happy, Puck was happy.
Mercedes, on the other hand, did not look happy. She looked like she was sick and tired of not knowing what was going on. And if Puck had learned one thing about Mercedes in the past year, it was that she always wanted to know what was going on with everyone, even if it was none of her business. Man, he was going to have hell to pay when she finally found out about him and Kurt. Although, to be honest, he didn’t even know why that was still a secret.
“Mercedes,” he asked cautiously, “you okay over there?”
“I want to know why the heck we’re apparently dressing Finn like some floppy-haired pretty boy from a show about monsters. Out of all of the looks we’ve considered, we’re going with this one? Post-apocalyptic utility gear? It’s not exactly high fashion.”
Puck smirked. “Well, it’s simple. First, the Winchesters are total badasses. Neither of those guys would ever be caught dead in a bunny sweater.” Finn blushed and looked at his feet. “Second, Sam is really tall, which means they might actually have some stuff in here that will fit our friendly neighborhood giant without him having to resort to those lame painter’s jeans from Old Navy. Plus,” and now Puck was addressing their friends, “who here thinks Sam Winchester is a total hottie?”
Brittany, Santana, and Kurt - as well as a few college girls who happened to be walking by - all raised their hands. “See?” Puck said, daring anyone to challenge him, “case closed.” Considering the matter settled, he led the group into the store.
***
Monday morning, Finn walked into the choir room wearing dark brown leather harness boots, broken-in Levis in a slim boot cut that flattered his long legs, and a grayish-blue plaid Western shirt, tailored to actually fit his broad shoulders and narrow hips, layered over a soft charcoal gray t-shirt. All of this was topped off with a Winchester military jacket in a dark shade olive green that really suited Finn’s coloring and his tall frame.
Puck was proud to say that his best friend looked like a total badass.
The rest of the club seemed to agree, judging by the round of applause that greeted Finn as he entered the room. Brittany and Santana high fived each other, Mercedes let out a loud whistle, and Rachel gazed at her man with undisguised lust in her eyes.
“Wow, Finn, you look… just… wow.”
Rachel Berry was speechless. Well, that was new.
Puck, seeing that this was as good a time as any to embrace change, threw an arm around a very surprised Kurt Hummel, pulled him in close to his side, and dropped a kiss onto his boyfriend’s perfectly styled hair.