I Still Want To Marry You (But there's one small problem) PART 1 [Puck/Sam]
Title: I Still Want To Marry You (But there's one small problem)
Autor: fuelledbydecay
Pairing: Puck/Sam
POV: 3rd person
Rating: PG
Warning: Slash, swearing
Spoilers: None that I can think of
Summary: He half-hopes that he imagines the disappointment in Puck’s eyes. Puck doesn’t mention it again.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the charcters. Show belongs to Ryan Murphy. This is just written for my own entertainment
Sequel to Marry You
It’s been almost a month since Sam agreed to marry Puck and he still isn’t used to the amount of stares he gets when they walk down the hall together in between classes. Sometimes he feels like crawling out from under his own skin or just hiding for the first five minutes of every period so that he can sneak to class without feeling like a freak show, but then Puck is there sending bitch glares at anyone whose gaze settles on them for too long, and it doesn’t seem so bad. It’s not like he needs Puck to protect him- he can look out for himself - but no one knows how to force people to divert their attention better than Puck. It’s a relief to feel the heat of each stare fall away one by one until it’s like they blend in with the crowd just like everyone else.
Sam feels a little bad that Kurt went through so much shit in comparison. The only reason he hasn’t had more issues is because Puck is totally badass and apparently that makes Sam badass by association. Still, he tries not to mention the word ‘gay’ around Puck because he isn’t entirely sure how much it applies. Sure, he’s dating Sam and insists that he is completely devoted to Sam’s perfect ass, God dude seriously, but Puck also has an unhealthy obsession with Santana’s boobs. Not that Sam can blame him because silicone or not, Santana has the best boobs ever created (synthetically or not) and Sam is totally gay.
Puck surreptitiously links his fingers with Sam’s tugging at his hand gently as they walk to Glee Club. Sam knows better than to comment on the act of affection because he knows Puck will only make an excuse about how Sam would probably loose himself in the crowd otherwise. Instead Sam settles for brushing the ridges of his calloused thumb over the plane of tanned skin covering the back of Puck’s hand. He smiles when he feels the grip of Puck’s fingers tighten over his.
They get to Glee Club on time. Puck continues to drag Sam along until they are in the back row and sits, pulling Sam down with him. They’re wedged between Mercedes and Santana but neither of the girls glances in their direction. It’s strange and also all kinds of awesome that the Glee Club accept their relationship without question. After the initial shock they’d all been pretty cool about it; most of them were more surprised that Puck was actually in a monogamous relationship than that he was actually dating a dude. Rachel still makes it well known that she doesn’t believe it’s physically possible. Sam thinks that might have made Puck a little more determined to make it work just to prove her wrong.
Mr. Schue starts explaining this week’s assignment while they listen dutifully. Except Puck, who keeps on kicking Sam’s ankle to try and get his attention, and whenever Sam gets exasperated enough to sneak a look at him he finds Puck, arms folded and gaze fixed on Mr. Schue. It’s a little annoying but Sam has almost gotten used to Puck’s occasional bouts of immaturity.
After the session ends, Puck walks Sam out to the parking lot, fingers still neatly intertwined. He knocks his shoulder against Sam’s playfully and smirks. “You wanna come over tonight?”
“Can’t,” Sam says regretfully. He adjusts the strap on his bag so that the weight doesn’t feel so uncomfortable on his shoulder. It still gets tender sometimes and he’s more than a little paranoid about dislocating it again. “My mom found out that I got an F in my Math test. She’s got me studying all week”.
Puck frowns slightly but doesn’t say anything. He lets go of Sam’s hand to dig around in his pocket for his keys, and Sam’s fingers feel cold at the loss of contact. Sam watches him wriggle around in his pocket for a few moments before he brandishes his keys with a triumphant smirk that spreads across his entire face. It’s kind of adorable how much pleasure Puck gets from all the small wins, not that Sam would ever mention that out loud because it might hurt Puck’s masculinity, or some shit like that. Puck’s secretly sensitive about some things. “That sucks. You want me to give you a ride home?”
Usually Sam would refuse. He knows that Puck is borderline reckless when he drives. The memory of that one time when an elderly couple had cut in front of Puck at a junction is still fresh in his mind. He can still hear the heated string of profanities Puck had shouted at them (until he had realised that shit they were like old dude why didn’t you tell me?) and he doesn’t think his ears will ever recover from Puck’s blatant abuse of the car horn.
But today he doesn’t really feel like walking his lazy ass home so he shrugs, careful not to jostle his bag too much, and says, “Sure.”
So Puck drives him home with their hands twisted together on his knee. He pulls up just outside Sam’s house temporarily blocking the drive with his car. Sam’s mom’s car is already sitting in the driveway meaning she’s home early from work. Probably to make sure that Sam actually comes home and does all the studying that she lectured him for hours about doing. Sam frowns at the vehicle. So much for trying to sneak in a few hours of Black Ops before his parents came home. He mentally waves goodbye to his freedom. He half misses it already.
From the corner of his eye, he notices Puck leaning forward to kiss him goodbye and panics a little, ducking his head to grab his bag before Puck can complete the action. His lips end up brushing the top of Sam’s head awkwardly. He probably has a mouthful of blonde hair. Sam smiles weakly and rushes out of the car, trying to ignore Puck’s confused expression.
He hears the sound of tires grinding over asphalt as he walks up to his house but he doesn’t turn to wave goodbye. The thing is; Sam isn’t exactly like Puck. Sure, he’s open about his sexuality at school, never really had an issue with coming out, and while it took Puck proposing to him to actually push him to do it, it never really seemed that daunting. Telling his parents is a whole other issue. When he came out at school he had the option of giving a big ‘fuck you’ to whoever had a problem with it, because they obviously weren’t the type of people he should be wasting his time on. It’s different with his parents. He can’t tell them that he doesn’t care if they don’t like it because he would be lying completely. So he hasn’t really gotten round to it yet. He’s pretty terrified by the thought.
Sam drops his bag by the front door when he enters the house. He feels guilty for not telling Puck, for not explaining but he knows how he would react, and he really can’t deal with that right now.
His mother smiles warmly at him when he enters the kitchen. She’s still in her work clothes and her hair looks a little insane from all the rushing around she’s been doing. She’s got a pre-prepared meal for one in her hands ready to pop into the microwave for dinner. Sam knows she’s never been particularly fond of cooking. A handful of times he’s had to rescue her from a smoking oven and a screaming fire alarm. He’s relieved she has finally given up on ever mastering the skill. “You’re home early.”
“Uh yeah,” Sam says awkwardly. He can’t help but look out the window at the empty space where Puck’s car had been a minute ago. His stomach churns a little. “Puck gave me a lift.”
“Your friend from the football team?” his mom asks, setting the timer so that the microwave hums to life, the package inside twirling slowly. When Sam confirms this with a grunt she tells him it was nice of Puck to drive him home. He doesn’t say anything in response. Instead he heads upstairs and tries to study.
Except, Puck’s confused and hurt face keeps on flashing in his mind. He doesn’t finish one equation.
*
Puck doesn’t mention it when Sam meets him in the school parking lot the next day so he figures he’s forgiven for being weird (and acting like a complete asshole). They go to football practise together as usual and if Puck’s comments are more aggressive when Azimio and Karofsky make jibes at them, Sam doesn’t notice. When they finish practise, Sam waits in the locker room for Puck to finish getting changed and they walk out of school to the parking lot together. Puck doesn’t hold his hand.
*
“I want you to meet my mom,” Puck blurts out in the middle of playing Black Ops in Sam’s bedroom. They’re alone; Sam’s parents are both working late and Puck convinced Sam to ditch his last period so they could bum out for the rest of the afternoon. He’s a really bad influence.
Sam pauses the game with the controller in his hand, and turns to look at Puck in shock. Puck’s face is flushed even beneath his tan, his cheeks visibly red. He looks a little nervous even though he’s ducked his head down so half of his face is hidden from the glowing light of the TV. “Really?”
“You scared?” Puck asks, recovering from whatever embarrassment (or man-eating viruses) he was suffering under. He glances up at Sam as a familiar smirk slowly spreads across his face, masking the blush. The anxiety is still visible in his restless eyes. Sam turns back to the television and keeps his eyes fixed on the frozen warzone on the screen.
The initial shock starts to wear off and Sam shakes his head because scared? Of course he’s not. Only meeting his way-into-the-future mother-in-law is actually a little scary. He has no idea what to expect and he knows he’ll end up saying something completely geeky when he’s trying to make a good impression, and then Puck’s mom will think he’s weird. God, what if she, like, forbids Puck from dating Sam? Puck’s going to dump his ass because his mom disapproves of him dating a psycho. Shit.
The smug smirk starts to slide off of Puck’s lips, and he moves closer, eyes too bright and knowing in the TV’s glare. His hand brushes lightly across Sam’s collar bone, up his neck to cup his cheek. His fingers are gentle as he turns Sam’s face to meet his gaze. The heat of Puck’s palm sears Sam’s skin. “Dude, relax. It’s no big deal. It’ll be fine”.
Sam sighs because Puck would know that Sam’s freaking out; he always does. He puts it down to Puck’s freakish ability to pick up on absolutely everything. It’s a little disturbing sometimes. He nods his head, but his movement is restricted because Puck is still cupping his cheek firmly.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, feeling the last shaky breath escape as he calms down. The clenching in his stomach starts to ease and he lets himself smile genuinely. Puck kisses him gently, then releases his hold and moves back to grab his controller, because priorities.
*
It’s almost seven o’clock when Sam turns up at Puck’s in his mom’s car. His parents think he’s studying over at Artie’s (because they have met Puck and they wouldn’t believe him if he told them he was studying there). He wasn’t actually sure how to tell them that he was going to meet his future mother-in-law and that, oh yeah, he’s totally gay. So he panicked a little and ended up lying. Again.
He switches off the engine and plays with his bangs in the mirror. They keep on trying to attack his eyes and he huffs out his frustration because the last thing he wants is for Puck’s mom to think he has a stupid haircut. His hair is never this rebellious; not even in the rain. She’s going to hate his stupid ass hair. Fuck.
He has about two minutes to panic over his major hair related disaster before Puck comes out to drag him from the car. Inhaling a deep breath he straightens out his shirt and reaches for the door handle. Only Puck beats him to it, and opens the door and bows dramatically before Sam has a chance to. Sam isn’t sure whether to feel flattered or pissed that Puck is treating him like a teenage girl. “You’ve been sitting in there for ages. I was getting bored waiting for you to move your ass.”
Puck doesn’t wait for Sam to reply. He grabs Sam’s slightly clammy hand and squeezes it reassuringly, before leading Sam up the drive and into his house. It’s not like he’s never been to Puck’s house before. He’s been thousands of times, but he’s never actually met Puck’s family before. Even if it’s just Puck’s mom he has to meet tonight, because Puck insisted his little sister be shipped off for the night because he didn’t want the little psycho scaring Sam of. It feels completely different, like this is something really important. He feels like his throat is getting tighter as Puck pulls him into the kitchen, and Puck’s mother turns to welcome them, smiling like she’s actually happy to meet Sam.
“Sam,” she says warmly, taking him by surprise by wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him in. Her head just manages to reach his chest and he awkwardly pats her back because he isn’t entirely sure what to do. He definitely wasn’t expecting a hug when he walked through the door. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Puck talks about you all the time”.
Puck looks offended by the accusation and snorts. “No I don’t”.
His mother rolls her eyes at him and then ushers them into the dining room by fluttering her hands around. She tells Puck to get their guest a drink, which he begrudgingly does before sitting opposite Sam at the table. Sam tries not to stare at the pictures on the wall. He spies a photograph of Puck minus the Mohawk, and can’t suppress the smile that lights his face. Puck notices and scowls, shifting his angle to block Sam’s view. He kicks at Sam’s ankles when he starts to laugh at an especially cute picture of Puck in a paddling pool in the back yard wearing little swimming trunks that have little orange fish printed on them.
Puck’s mother brings the food out and serves it, chatting happily away. She asks Sam questions about his old school, his interests, if he misses his old friends. He’s used to those questions because being new means that everyone wants to know everything, but Puck’s mom is different. She doesn’t just listen to the answers; she watches his reactions. She observes every time he shifts in his seat, every time his smile falters and Sam realises that she actually cares about his answers.
They talk for hours, and Puck’s mom even manages to convince Sam to have desert despite his strict diet which may or may not have been completely destroyed when he started dating Puck. Apparently the mention of calorie counting is enough to cause Puck to start angrily telling him that they do enough of that shit in Math. So Sam eats his desert without complaint. Partly because Puck’s mom cheated and blackmailed him with her warm maternal smile and partly because he agreed to never mention the ‘c’ word in front of Puck ever again. It’s actually really good. He doesn’t even put up a convincing fight when she offers him seconds.
Puck coincidentally decides that it’s getting really late and Sam should go home before his parent’s call out a search party when his mom proposes that they fish out the old baby photos. While Sam would love to poke fun of photos of Puck looking adorable in little frilly baby grows and gain some serious blackmail material he has to agree with Puck. So he thanks Puck’s mother for the evening and says goodnight (not without another hug). He kisses Puck quickly before he leaves and let’s himself out (“You’ve been in my house a thousand times, I think you can find your own way to the door you fucktard”).
He drives all the way home with a stupid smile on his face.
*
That weekend, Sam argues with his parents. His report card came back on Friday and he’s still failing Math. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal. He’s already spoken to his teacher about making up his grade and his problems grasping the more wordy questions, but his parents don’t seem to care. They blame it on the amount of time that he spends with Puck, tell him that his schoolwork is slipping because he’s too busy trying to fit in with some punk who has no respect for authority. His dad tells him that just because Puck is going to be stuck in the same small town with a shitty job for the rest of his life doesn’t mean that Sam should let himself get dragged down as well. There are big things waiting for him outside of Lima. He has potential.
Sam listens to them lecture him and tell him what he should do for almost an hour. He stares at his hands and clenches his teeth together so hard he thinks he might explode before he looses it completely, and shouts at them to fuck the hell off and spends the rest of the night in Puck’s bed silently venting.
What he doesn’t do is tell them that he loves Puck and that he doesn’t give a shit what Puck does in the future as long as he’s happy. He doesn’t tell them that he measures success by how happy he is not by how far he gets in life. He’s too afraid of what might happen if he does.
In the morning, Puck nudges him awake and produces a plate of freshly-made waffles that he definitely didn’t make himself with a careful smile. “You wanna talk about it?”
Sam’s stomach grumbles when he inhales. He grabs the plate from Puck’s hands and snuggles down into the bed, ready to attack the food. Puck is still sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for an answer so Sam shakes his head. He half-hopes that he imagines the disappointment in Puck’s eyes. Puck doesn’t mention it again.
A/n: I meant to update this MONTHS ago and I've had 12 pages sitting on my computer doing nothing. So I thought I'd post the first part, and see if anyone actually remembered this fic!
P.s you can comment by pressing the little blue pencil on the bottom of the page :)
Autor: fuelledbydecay
Pairing: Puck/Sam
POV: 3rd person
Rating: PG
Warning: Slash, swearing
Spoilers: None that I can think of
Summary: He half-hopes that he imagines the disappointment in Puck’s eyes. Puck doesn’t mention it again.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the charcters. Show belongs to Ryan Murphy. This is just written for my own entertainment
Sequel to Marry You
It’s been almost a month since Sam agreed to marry Puck and he still isn’t used to the amount of stares he gets when they walk down the hall together in between classes. Sometimes he feels like crawling out from under his own skin or just hiding for the first five minutes of every period so that he can sneak to class without feeling like a freak show, but then Puck is there sending bitch glares at anyone whose gaze settles on them for too long, and it doesn’t seem so bad. It’s not like he needs Puck to protect him- he can look out for himself - but no one knows how to force people to divert their attention better than Puck. It’s a relief to feel the heat of each stare fall away one by one until it’s like they blend in with the crowd just like everyone else.
Sam feels a little bad that Kurt went through so much shit in comparison. The only reason he hasn’t had more issues is because Puck is totally badass and apparently that makes Sam badass by association. Still, he tries not to mention the word ‘gay’ around Puck because he isn’t entirely sure how much it applies. Sure, he’s dating Sam and insists that he is completely devoted to Sam’s perfect ass, God dude seriously, but Puck also has an unhealthy obsession with Santana’s boobs. Not that Sam can blame him because silicone or not, Santana has the best boobs ever created (synthetically or not) and Sam is totally gay.
Puck surreptitiously links his fingers with Sam’s tugging at his hand gently as they walk to Glee Club. Sam knows better than to comment on the act of affection because he knows Puck will only make an excuse about how Sam would probably loose himself in the crowd otherwise. Instead Sam settles for brushing the ridges of his calloused thumb over the plane of tanned skin covering the back of Puck’s hand. He smiles when he feels the grip of Puck’s fingers tighten over his.
They get to Glee Club on time. Puck continues to drag Sam along until they are in the back row and sits, pulling Sam down with him. They’re wedged between Mercedes and Santana but neither of the girls glances in their direction. It’s strange and also all kinds of awesome that the Glee Club accept their relationship without question. After the initial shock they’d all been pretty cool about it; most of them were more surprised that Puck was actually in a monogamous relationship than that he was actually dating a dude. Rachel still makes it well known that she doesn’t believe it’s physically possible. Sam thinks that might have made Puck a little more determined to make it work just to prove her wrong.
Mr. Schue starts explaining this week’s assignment while they listen dutifully. Except Puck, who keeps on kicking Sam’s ankle to try and get his attention, and whenever Sam gets exasperated enough to sneak a look at him he finds Puck, arms folded and gaze fixed on Mr. Schue. It’s a little annoying but Sam has almost gotten used to Puck’s occasional bouts of immaturity.
After the session ends, Puck walks Sam out to the parking lot, fingers still neatly intertwined. He knocks his shoulder against Sam’s playfully and smirks. “You wanna come over tonight?”
“Can’t,” Sam says regretfully. He adjusts the strap on his bag so that the weight doesn’t feel so uncomfortable on his shoulder. It still gets tender sometimes and he’s more than a little paranoid about dislocating it again. “My mom found out that I got an F in my Math test. She’s got me studying all week”.
Puck frowns slightly but doesn’t say anything. He lets go of Sam’s hand to dig around in his pocket for his keys, and Sam’s fingers feel cold at the loss of contact. Sam watches him wriggle around in his pocket for a few moments before he brandishes his keys with a triumphant smirk that spreads across his entire face. It’s kind of adorable how much pleasure Puck gets from all the small wins, not that Sam would ever mention that out loud because it might hurt Puck’s masculinity, or some shit like that. Puck’s secretly sensitive about some things. “That sucks. You want me to give you a ride home?”
Usually Sam would refuse. He knows that Puck is borderline reckless when he drives. The memory of that one time when an elderly couple had cut in front of Puck at a junction is still fresh in his mind. He can still hear the heated string of profanities Puck had shouted at them (until he had realised that shit they were like old dude why didn’t you tell me?) and he doesn’t think his ears will ever recover from Puck’s blatant abuse of the car horn.
But today he doesn’t really feel like walking his lazy ass home so he shrugs, careful not to jostle his bag too much, and says, “Sure.”
So Puck drives him home with their hands twisted together on his knee. He pulls up just outside Sam’s house temporarily blocking the drive with his car. Sam’s mom’s car is already sitting in the driveway meaning she’s home early from work. Probably to make sure that Sam actually comes home and does all the studying that she lectured him for hours about doing. Sam frowns at the vehicle. So much for trying to sneak in a few hours of Black Ops before his parents came home. He mentally waves goodbye to his freedom. He half misses it already.
From the corner of his eye, he notices Puck leaning forward to kiss him goodbye and panics a little, ducking his head to grab his bag before Puck can complete the action. His lips end up brushing the top of Sam’s head awkwardly. He probably has a mouthful of blonde hair. Sam smiles weakly and rushes out of the car, trying to ignore Puck’s confused expression.
He hears the sound of tires grinding over asphalt as he walks up to his house but he doesn’t turn to wave goodbye. The thing is; Sam isn’t exactly like Puck. Sure, he’s open about his sexuality at school, never really had an issue with coming out, and while it took Puck proposing to him to actually push him to do it, it never really seemed that daunting. Telling his parents is a whole other issue. When he came out at school he had the option of giving a big ‘fuck you’ to whoever had a problem with it, because they obviously weren’t the type of people he should be wasting his time on. It’s different with his parents. He can’t tell them that he doesn’t care if they don’t like it because he would be lying completely. So he hasn’t really gotten round to it yet. He’s pretty terrified by the thought.
Sam drops his bag by the front door when he enters the house. He feels guilty for not telling Puck, for not explaining but he knows how he would react, and he really can’t deal with that right now.
His mother smiles warmly at him when he enters the kitchen. She’s still in her work clothes and her hair looks a little insane from all the rushing around she’s been doing. She’s got a pre-prepared meal for one in her hands ready to pop into the microwave for dinner. Sam knows she’s never been particularly fond of cooking. A handful of times he’s had to rescue her from a smoking oven and a screaming fire alarm. He’s relieved she has finally given up on ever mastering the skill. “You’re home early.”
“Uh yeah,” Sam says awkwardly. He can’t help but look out the window at the empty space where Puck’s car had been a minute ago. His stomach churns a little. “Puck gave me a lift.”
“Your friend from the football team?” his mom asks, setting the timer so that the microwave hums to life, the package inside twirling slowly. When Sam confirms this with a grunt she tells him it was nice of Puck to drive him home. He doesn’t say anything in response. Instead he heads upstairs and tries to study.
Except, Puck’s confused and hurt face keeps on flashing in his mind. He doesn’t finish one equation.
*
Puck doesn’t mention it when Sam meets him in the school parking lot the next day so he figures he’s forgiven for being weird (and acting like a complete asshole). They go to football practise together as usual and if Puck’s comments are more aggressive when Azimio and Karofsky make jibes at them, Sam doesn’t notice. When they finish practise, Sam waits in the locker room for Puck to finish getting changed and they walk out of school to the parking lot together. Puck doesn’t hold his hand.
*
“I want you to meet my mom,” Puck blurts out in the middle of playing Black Ops in Sam’s bedroom. They’re alone; Sam’s parents are both working late and Puck convinced Sam to ditch his last period so they could bum out for the rest of the afternoon. He’s a really bad influence.
Sam pauses the game with the controller in his hand, and turns to look at Puck in shock. Puck’s face is flushed even beneath his tan, his cheeks visibly red. He looks a little nervous even though he’s ducked his head down so half of his face is hidden from the glowing light of the TV. “Really?”
“You scared?” Puck asks, recovering from whatever embarrassment (or man-eating viruses) he was suffering under. He glances up at Sam as a familiar smirk slowly spreads across his face, masking the blush. The anxiety is still visible in his restless eyes. Sam turns back to the television and keeps his eyes fixed on the frozen warzone on the screen.
The initial shock starts to wear off and Sam shakes his head because scared? Of course he’s not. Only meeting his way-into-the-future mother-in-law is actually a little scary. He has no idea what to expect and he knows he’ll end up saying something completely geeky when he’s trying to make a good impression, and then Puck’s mom will think he’s weird. God, what if she, like, forbids Puck from dating Sam? Puck’s going to dump his ass because his mom disapproves of him dating a psycho. Shit.
The smug smirk starts to slide off of Puck’s lips, and he moves closer, eyes too bright and knowing in the TV’s glare. His hand brushes lightly across Sam’s collar bone, up his neck to cup his cheek. His fingers are gentle as he turns Sam’s face to meet his gaze. The heat of Puck’s palm sears Sam’s skin. “Dude, relax. It’s no big deal. It’ll be fine”.
Sam sighs because Puck would know that Sam’s freaking out; he always does. He puts it down to Puck’s freakish ability to pick up on absolutely everything. It’s a little disturbing sometimes. He nods his head, but his movement is restricted because Puck is still cupping his cheek firmly.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, feeling the last shaky breath escape as he calms down. The clenching in his stomach starts to ease and he lets himself smile genuinely. Puck kisses him gently, then releases his hold and moves back to grab his controller, because priorities.
*
It’s almost seven o’clock when Sam turns up at Puck’s in his mom’s car. His parents think he’s studying over at Artie’s (because they have met Puck and they wouldn’t believe him if he told them he was studying there). He wasn’t actually sure how to tell them that he was going to meet his future mother-in-law and that, oh yeah, he’s totally gay. So he panicked a little and ended up lying. Again.
He switches off the engine and plays with his bangs in the mirror. They keep on trying to attack his eyes and he huffs out his frustration because the last thing he wants is for Puck’s mom to think he has a stupid haircut. His hair is never this rebellious; not even in the rain. She’s going to hate his stupid ass hair. Fuck.
He has about two minutes to panic over his major hair related disaster before Puck comes out to drag him from the car. Inhaling a deep breath he straightens out his shirt and reaches for the door handle. Only Puck beats him to it, and opens the door and bows dramatically before Sam has a chance to. Sam isn’t sure whether to feel flattered or pissed that Puck is treating him like a teenage girl. “You’ve been sitting in there for ages. I was getting bored waiting for you to move your ass.”
Puck doesn’t wait for Sam to reply. He grabs Sam’s slightly clammy hand and squeezes it reassuringly, before leading Sam up the drive and into his house. It’s not like he’s never been to Puck’s house before. He’s been thousands of times, but he’s never actually met Puck’s family before. Even if it’s just Puck’s mom he has to meet tonight, because Puck insisted his little sister be shipped off for the night because he didn’t want the little psycho scaring Sam of. It feels completely different, like this is something really important. He feels like his throat is getting tighter as Puck pulls him into the kitchen, and Puck’s mother turns to welcome them, smiling like she’s actually happy to meet Sam.
“Sam,” she says warmly, taking him by surprise by wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him in. Her head just manages to reach his chest and he awkwardly pats her back because he isn’t entirely sure what to do. He definitely wasn’t expecting a hug when he walked through the door. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Puck talks about you all the time”.
Puck looks offended by the accusation and snorts. “No I don’t”.
His mother rolls her eyes at him and then ushers them into the dining room by fluttering her hands around. She tells Puck to get their guest a drink, which he begrudgingly does before sitting opposite Sam at the table. Sam tries not to stare at the pictures on the wall. He spies a photograph of Puck minus the Mohawk, and can’t suppress the smile that lights his face. Puck notices and scowls, shifting his angle to block Sam’s view. He kicks at Sam’s ankles when he starts to laugh at an especially cute picture of Puck in a paddling pool in the back yard wearing little swimming trunks that have little orange fish printed on them.
Puck’s mother brings the food out and serves it, chatting happily away. She asks Sam questions about his old school, his interests, if he misses his old friends. He’s used to those questions because being new means that everyone wants to know everything, but Puck’s mom is different. She doesn’t just listen to the answers; she watches his reactions. She observes every time he shifts in his seat, every time his smile falters and Sam realises that she actually cares about his answers.
They talk for hours, and Puck’s mom even manages to convince Sam to have desert despite his strict diet which may or may not have been completely destroyed when he started dating Puck. Apparently the mention of calorie counting is enough to cause Puck to start angrily telling him that they do enough of that shit in Math. So Sam eats his desert without complaint. Partly because Puck’s mom cheated and blackmailed him with her warm maternal smile and partly because he agreed to never mention the ‘c’ word in front of Puck ever again. It’s actually really good. He doesn’t even put up a convincing fight when she offers him seconds.
Puck coincidentally decides that it’s getting really late and Sam should go home before his parent’s call out a search party when his mom proposes that they fish out the old baby photos. While Sam would love to poke fun of photos of Puck looking adorable in little frilly baby grows and gain some serious blackmail material he has to agree with Puck. So he thanks Puck’s mother for the evening and says goodnight (not without another hug). He kisses Puck quickly before he leaves and let’s himself out (“You’ve been in my house a thousand times, I think you can find your own way to the door you fucktard”).
He drives all the way home with a stupid smile on his face.
*
That weekend, Sam argues with his parents. His report card came back on Friday and he’s still failing Math. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal. He’s already spoken to his teacher about making up his grade and his problems grasping the more wordy questions, but his parents don’t seem to care. They blame it on the amount of time that he spends with Puck, tell him that his schoolwork is slipping because he’s too busy trying to fit in with some punk who has no respect for authority. His dad tells him that just because Puck is going to be stuck in the same small town with a shitty job for the rest of his life doesn’t mean that Sam should let himself get dragged down as well. There are big things waiting for him outside of Lima. He has potential.
Sam listens to them lecture him and tell him what he should do for almost an hour. He stares at his hands and clenches his teeth together so hard he thinks he might explode before he looses it completely, and shouts at them to fuck the hell off and spends the rest of the night in Puck’s bed silently venting.
What he doesn’t do is tell them that he loves Puck and that he doesn’t give a shit what Puck does in the future as long as he’s happy. He doesn’t tell them that he measures success by how happy he is not by how far he gets in life. He’s too afraid of what might happen if he does.
In the morning, Puck nudges him awake and produces a plate of freshly-made waffles that he definitely didn’t make himself with a careful smile. “You wanna talk about it?”
Sam’s stomach grumbles when he inhales. He grabs the plate from Puck’s hands and snuggles down into the bed, ready to attack the food. Puck is still sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for an answer so Sam shakes his head. He half-hopes that he imagines the disappointment in Puck’s eyes. Puck doesn’t mention it again.
A/n: I meant to update this MONTHS ago and I've had 12 pages sitting on my computer doing nothing. So I thought I'd post the first part, and see if anyone actually remembered this fic!
P.s you can comment by pressing the little blue pencil on the bottom of the page :)