Prompt Post #7
Welcome to the Glee Angst Meme again! You know how these things work. You can come here and prompt your most angsty prompts, and write stories filling those angsty prompts to let our characters suffer.
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Lonely Prompts Post
Please remember to place any Trigger Warnings in the subject line of your ( Read more... )
After about a five minute walk into the woods, Kurt noticed a pretty impressive looking tree house that spanned across two large trees.
“Pucks’ dad helped us build this.” Finn whispers. “When we were kids. He worked at a construction yard, so he got us the plywood and he did all the hammering. He’d always do these… big apologies, you know? Like, he yelled at Puck for failing a test in front of me, and slapped him, and Puck cried a little, so he helped us build this. It was before he left… the first time I mean.”
They try to move quietly over the leaves, but Finn’s about as graceful as an elephant, and the door to the lower level of the little tree house flies open, and Puck emerges with a baseball bat in his hands and a snarl on his face. He drops it when he sees it’s them.
Finn waves, “Why are you all the way out here man, I checked like five different places first. Were you at the house?”
“You call my fuckin’ ma, Hudson?” he asks, and Finn nods. Puck shifts a glance to Kurt, and Finn inclines his head. “He knows. And Burt.”
Puck curses. “I knew you’d check the house first, asshole. I was just going to camp out here for a few hours, ‘till I figured you’d of given up, and then call San for a ride, but I left my fuckin’ phone. Not to mention my coat. S’fuckin’ cold.”
“Dude, you should have told me he was back. Mom would’ve…”
Puck growls. “Dude, your mom did enough for me when I was a kid. I’m not 14 anymore; I can stand up to him. I can take him. I just - it’s easier if I just leave. He showed up last Sunday and we got into it, and mom flipped so I took off and said I’d go crash at yours, except I forgot that yours wasn’t just yours anymore. You’ve got this huge fuckin’ family now, and I can’t just walk in and sleep on your couch, and know that no one’s gonna flip their shit when they find me there in the morning, or that your ma will probably make me fuckin’ pancakes to top it off.”
Finn flinches, “You should have said. Burt would have understood. Mom doesn’t let him talk shit about you, man. I help you, you help me. That’s why we work.”
There’s still ten feet between them, so Finn closes the distance, taking off his own coat and throwing it and Puck, who puts it on, before handing him his phone. “Come on, asshole,” he smiles, wrapping an arm around Puck’s shoulders, that his friend immediately shrugs off, but starts walking with him. “Mom’s making lasagna.”
Kurt offers to call his dad and let them know that they’re on their way back, and Puck tenses, but Finn nods.
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