Fatherhood: A Guide 3/5
Title: Fatherhood: A Guide (Or, How Noah Puckerman and Blaine Anderson Survive Being Husbands, Stay-at-home Dads, and Badass New Yorkers)
Author: eyesarmslove
Beta: The lovely Alex (xlessxthanx3x )
Type: Multipart
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Puck, Blaine/?, Puck/Blaine friendship (gasp!)
Genre: Futurefic
Warning: None
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
Author Notes: Future kid!fic.
Summary: Puck was digging the dad gig. That is, he was, until the new neighbors arrived.
Word Count: 5500, this part (13,100 overall)
Two weeks had past since the day Puck helped Blaine move in. The new family was finally settled in and a routine that Puck (and Kurt) could not have foreseen had been established: Kurt, Puck, and Ziva had dinner with Blaine and Xander twice a week, location alternating between the two houses; Puck and Blaine walked the kids to school every morning and picked them up together every afternoon; Blaine accompanied Puck to the grocery store (not that Puck wanted him to, but he had to admit, having someone there to double-check the list cut out the annoying practice of going back to that hell-hole); and Puck took the time to give Blaine the lowdown on the neighbors.
“You know,” Kurt said one evening as he was clearing the dinner table, “When Blaine moved in next door, the best I thought I could help for was civility. I had no one idea you guys were going to be friends.”
Puck, who was putting the left over food in Tupperware, snorted, “Babe, Anderson and I are not friends.”
“Your childish way of not using his given name aside,” Kurt replied, eyebrow raised, “I have to disagree.” He walked by the counter Puck was using to put away the food, deliberately brushing his front along Puck’s back. He leaned into the not-quite embrace to whisper into Puck ear, “You’re full of shit, Noah Puckerman.”
Puck dropped the spoon he was using, a full-body shiver running through him. Kurt laughed as Puck whirled around and grabbed his hips, pulling him so that they were plastered against each other. “Cursing and full name, babe? Someone wants to get laid.” He waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, causing Kurt to laugh some more.
“If I wanted to use your full name, I would have said Noah Isaac Hummel-Puckerman.” He smirked as he received the expected reaction. Puck growled, tightening his grip on Kurt’s waist, grinding his hips into his husband’s. So he had a domestic kink, sue him.
“Someone really wants to get laid.” The gleam in his blue eyes was the only response he needed. Puck leaned in and parted Kurt’s lips with his tongue, moaning when Kurt ran his tongue against his.
They were making out against the counter like teenagers when a ringing telephone startled them apart. Puck opened his mouth to tell Kurt to ignore it when Kurt pulled away and picked up the house phone.
“Hummel-Puckerman residence. Kurt speaking. Oh, hi Blaine!” Puck glared, What a fucking cockblock.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. My day was pretty good. Noah made an excellent dinner.” Kurt paused and laughed, “Yeah, sure. One second.” He put a hand over the speaker and offered it to Puck. “It’s for you,” he sang.
Puck glared at the proffered phone. Kurt smirked and rose that insufferable eyebrow again, “Aren’t you excited to talk to your BFF?”
Puck snatched away the phone, “You’re not nearly as cute as you think you are.”
Kurt laughed out loud, “I’m adorable, and you know it.”
Puck ignored him and barked into the phone, “What?”
Blaine’s answering laugh only served to piss him off more, “Bad day, Puck?”
“It was fine ‘til you called.”
“Ouch,” Blaine’ jovial tone held no hurt, “So you don’t want to talk?”
“Spit it out, Anderson, what do you want?”
Blaine’s voice turned serious, “I was rooting through Xander’s bag just now and I found-“
“Condoms? Dude, I can’t help you there. I was a stud, but not that much of stud,” Puck snarked, pleased with himself before the smirk was wiped off his face when Kurt, who had heard the exchange, sang out (again with the sing-song voice) “You’re flirting, Noah.” Puck’s eyes widened, moving the phone away before Blaine could hear and swiped at Kurt with a dishtowel. Kurt practically giggled as he pranced out of the way.
“Ha, ha, ha. If Xander had condoms in his bag by the time he was twenty, I’ll be happy. As it is, he needs to get out of his shell to find a significant other.”
“You got one, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I was extroverted and suave.”
“And a total douchebag. Dude, come on.”
“Look who’s talking!”
Kurt coughed into his fist, “Flirting!”
“Whatever. So, what did you find in Xan-man’s bag?”
“An invitation to a birthday party. A girl named-“
“Samantha Dent. Sami. I know, Ziva was invited, too.” He heard a sigh of relief over the line.
“Oh, thank God. So, which one of you is going?”
Puck rolled his eyes, “Why? You want someone to walk with on the way to the party? Jesus, Anderson, I know you’re co-dependent, but that’s just sa-“
“Puck! You didn’t read the invitation, did you?”
More eye rolling, “No. Why should I? Standard date, time, location shit.”
“You should read it. Or I can read it out loud, if you want.”
“Hold your curls. I’ve got it on the refrigerator right here.” He scanned the card, his eyes caught on one line. “Fucking hell!”
“Language!” Kurt exclaimed at the exact time Blaine did over the line.
“Anderson, there is no fucking way-“ Kurt slapped him on the shoulder. “-I’m going to sleep over at a zoo.”
“Let me see that.” Kurt took the invitation out of Puck’s pliant fingers.
“If Ziva isn’t going, then I can’t send Xander. His teacher says that she’s still the only kid he’ll make eye contact with. If we go without her, it’ll be a total disaster and-“
Kurt cut him off by taking the phone from his husband’s hands and saying, “Blaine, relax. Ziva will be going and Noah will escort her. RSVP for the party and pass along Ziva’s as well. Have a good night.” He hung up the phone.
Puck’s jaw dropped, “What the hell, Kurt? What the fuck was that? I’m not going to a zoo!”
“This isn’t about you.” Kurt turned from Puck and continued to wash dishes. “This is about your daughter. Your daughter who loves animals and adores her friends and would feel utterly left out if her entire class attended the party and she was the only one who didn’t.” Puck’s gut clenched.
“Fine. That’s true. But why do I have to take her? You don’t see enough of her as it is and-” Puck stopped talking at the sound of dishes cluttering in the sink. The kitchen was silent, air heavy with words unspoken. Oh, fuck. Why the fuck did I say that? This is not-
Kurt turned to him, face pinched and eyes bright. It was subtle, but Puck could see his lips trembling. “You’re right, Noah. I’m a horrible father. I chose my career over my baby. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Babe, I didn’t-“ Kurt shoved past him and moved towards the stairs, silent. “Where are you going?”
“To spend time with the daughter I’ve neglected-“ Puck winced at the sound of tears coating Kurt’s words. “-I’ll finish the dishes later.” With that, he calmly walked up the stairs.
The universe: 5,673,879. Noah Puckerman: 0.
Puck finished cleaning the kitchen and went on to vacuum the living room, knowing full well that it was Kurt’s turn. He also knew that vacuuming was Kurt’s least favorite chore and that Puck didn’t have nearly enough balls to face the designer just yet. Which is why he decided to re-organize the massive DVD collection the two of them shared, creating a system categorized by genre and then alphabetically by last name of lead actor. It was the most inane system, but Puck needed a distraction. By the time all one hundred and thirty two DVDs were sorted, Puck was creeping up the stairs, careful not to make any noise as he snuck past the door of Ziva’s room, which was slightly ajar. Sounds of Kurt’s voice wafted into the hallway, paralyzing Puck in place.
“‘Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry’s faithful, finally beaten broomstick.’”
“No!”
Puck jumped at the volume and intensity of his daughter’s outburst. From inside the room, Kurt chuckled, “What’s wrong, Ziva?”
“Papa, Harry’s broom was broken. That was his present from his teacher! He’s gonna be so sad!” A smile made its way on Puck’s face, anticipating his husband’s response.
“Well, we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we? It’s time for you to go to sleep.” Ziva groaned.
“But, Papa, I want to know what happens next!”
“Sorry, baby, but you know the rules: one chapter a night.”
“Paaaaapa!” Ziva’s whining was legendary, “If you read to me some more, I’ll give you extra kisses!” Puck couldn’t hold in his mirth. Kurt’s bark of a laugh could be heard as well.
“I’m being bribed by my own daughter! Come here, you little-” Suddenly the hallway was filled with the sounds of Ziva’s shrieking laughter, punctuated by gasps of breath that she struggled to take in as her father tickled her.
Motivated by his favorite sound in the world (the mixture of Kurt and Ziva’s giggles), Puck stepped into the room. Kurt stilled at the interruption, his 100-megawatt smile dimming only slightly. Ziva took the opportunity to break free of her papa’s hold and ran to her daddy.
“Daddy,” she looked up at him, the picture of innocence with black curls, translucent skin, green eyes bundled up in purple footsie pajamas. Puck’s heart clenched as he realized that Ziva was the best thing he’s ever done, his greatest contribution to the world. “Daddy, will you read me another chapter? I’ll give you extra kisses!” Puck laughed out loud. Yes, definitely the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
“No, Zivs. Your papa is right, one chapter a night. Tomorrow, munchkin, okay?”
Her face dropped, but she nodded, “Okay, daddy.” She turned and ran to her bed, leaping on top of the comforter. Kurt picked her up, kissed her on the cheek and placed her under the covers, “Goodnight, baby girl.”
“’Night, papa. Thank you for reading with me.” Kurt smile was soft and content.
“My pleasure, Ziva.”
Puck made his way to the other side of her bed, sitting next to Kurt. He placed a kiss on Ziva’s forehead, taking a second to absorb the feeling of her smooth skin, “Sweet dreams, princess.”
“’Night, daddy.” Kurt turned on the night light with a click and he and Puck made their way out of the room. As Puck switched off the overhead light and was closing the door a sound made him and Kurt pause.
“I love you.” Ziva’s voice was already filled with sleep, but the sincerity had Puck looking into Kurt’s equally wide eyes.
“We love you, too,” they answered in unison, not looking away from each other. Finally, Kurt broke the gaze and walked down the hall. Puck sighed as he heard Kurt descending downstairs. He closed the door gently and followed his husband.
When he reached the kitchen, he found Kurt putting away the now-dry dishes from the dish rack. His shoulders were set and back ramrod straight. Puck might as well have been walking into a warzone.
“Babe, I’ve got it. Why don’t you go into the living room and pop in a DVD? I’ll finish here and make some tea.”
“No, thank you.” Kurt’s, well, curt tone cut through Puck.
“How about you curl up with a magazine then? I can still make t-“
“Noah!”
Puck froze. Both of Kurt’s hands were gripping the edge of the counter and his head hung in a picture of-anger? Frustration? Sadness? Puck didn’t know which option was worse.
“Noah.” Kurt’s voice was softer, barely audible. The desolation came across loud and clear, however. “Noah, please stop. You did nothing wrong. No need for all the sucking up.”
“Hey, the blowjob was going to be a surprise! How’d you know?” My name is Puck and I use humor to deflect real emotion.
A surprised chuckle made its way past Kurt’s lips, his body relaxing slightly. His head was still bowed and his arms were trembling with the strain of supporting his weight and maintaining the death grip he had on the counter’s edge.
Puck stepped closer, “Kurt, what’s wrong? What’s going on in that crazy head of yours?” When he didn’t get an answer, Puck moved closer and grabbed Kurt’s chin, gently turning his head to face his. Kurt’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, his face was red and strained and Puck was pretty sure his stomach was somewhere near the center of the Earth by now, because Kurt crying was really the worst thing and now he was fucking sobbing and Puck couldn’t do anything but wrap his arms around Kurt’s shaking shoulders and hold him against his body too fucking tightly, but it didn’t matter because Puck was never going to let go.
They fell to the floor in a heap when Kurt let go of the counter and let go of everything because one second Puck was forcing Kurt into an awkward embrace and the next he was supporting Kurt’s dead weight. They were both on their knees, Kurt’s face buried in Puck’s neck and Puck was hugging Kurt like he wanted to absorb him into his body and he fucking did, because maybe by being one person, they could do this. They could love and be loved and carry on living knowing how much they kicked ass at life. Because Kurt and Puck were pretty awesome, but KurtandPuck were phenomenal.
Puck was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the whimpering, “I chose my career over my baby. My baby, Noah.”
The tears that were building up in his eyes finally spilled over as Puck all but growled, “Stop.” He gripped Kurt’s shoulders and pushed him back so that they could see into each other’s eyes. “Stop.” Kurt’s eyes were red and wide and shocked. Puck needed to make him understand.
“You didn’t choose anything. Anything, Kurt! You have both.” Kurt closed his eyes and shook his head. Puck gripped his shoulders more tightly, causing Kurt to look at him. “Listen to me. You. Have. Both. You have a job that you love and fucking rock at and you have a little girl upstairs that worships the ground you fucking walk on. You have a little girl that goes fucking apeshit every night when she hears your key in the lock because it means her world is complete again-”
“That’s just it, Noah! She’s so excited to see me everyday because I’m never here!” His body was wracked by sobs again and he fell forward into Puck’s welcoming body.
“You come home every day at six, Kurt,” he whispered into Kurt’s ear as his husband cried into his chest, “Six. That means she has three hours at home without you. In the life of a five-year-old? That’s nothing. Hell, she’s in her own world most of the time, she doesn’t even notice me and I’m here all the time.” He pushed Kurt up, again and looked him in the eye. “Babe, you’re amazing. You wake up at the ass crack of dawn every day just to go to work and come home in time for dinner. Then, even after a long-ass day, when I know you’re exhausted, you spend hours playing with the most hyperactive five-year old ever. After that, you still have enough energy to roll around in the sack with the motherfuckin’ sex shark!”
Kurt laughed. It was the most snot-filled laugh Puck’s ever seen, but to him, it was the eighth wonder of the world. “Babe, you’re not Superdad. You’re Superman! You’re fucking Supereverything, okay? Don’t ever forget that.”
Puck tried as hard as he could to convey all the love and trust and admiration he had for the mess of a man that sat before him with his eyes. Kurt stared back with his beautiful green eyes that fucking glowed and nodded slowly, “Thank you, Noah.”
Puck shrugged, “Just telling it like I see it. ‘Sides, I win major points for marrying Superman. Just call me Lois Lane.” Kurt laughed and smacked him in the shoulder. Puck grinned and reached his hand up to the counter, grabbing a dishtowel. He sniffed it and, when he deemed it clean enough, passed it to Kurt.
“Thank you, Noah. How delightfully charming of you.” There was that note of sarcastic disdain Puck knew and loved.
“I’m classy like that, Hummel.”
“Hummel-Puckerman.”
“Damn straight.”
They didn’t get up off the kitchen floor then, however. They were a little too preoccupied when Puck pushed Kurt on his back and made his way down Kurt’s body. He swallowed Kurt down with practiced ease and spent the next fifteen minutes turning Kurt into the better kind of quivering, shaking mess. After pushing Kurt to the edge, only to pull him back from it for the sixth time, he quit playing around and shoved him so far down his throat, his nose touched Kurt’s perfectly taut abdomen. And then he hummed. He hummed and Kurt lost it. Kurt sat straight up, grabbed Puck’s head, and screamed. Puck swallowed everything his husband had to offer.
Self-esteem reaffirming sex? Best sex ever.
That Friday found Blaine and Puck on the 4 train, going uptown. Puck sat back in his seat and sighed as he watched Ziva and Xander sitting in the seats across the aisle from them, hands intertwined and heads together, whispering. Puck groaned, prompting Blaine to ask, “What’s wrong?”
“You know all those awful chick-flicks that are about a girl and a dude who grew up together and end up married by the end?”
“Those are my favorites!”
Puck gave him some serious side-eye, “Dude.” Blaine grinned his obnoxious full-blown smile and Puck rolled his eyes, “Anyway, the opening credits should be rolling right about now.”
Blaine’s smile shrunk and his eyebrow furrowed in confusion before understanding dawned on his face. He looked at the kids and then looked back to Puck, “Why do you insist on thinking of our children as older than they are. Enjoy the prepubescent years, Puck. Teenagers are not going to be fun.”
Puck snorted, “Oh, like you can talk. At least your child doesn’t embody every diva from Patti LuPone to Mercedes Jones.”
“Mercedes! How is she doing nowadays?”
Puck grinned, “She’s kicking ass and taking some serious numbers as a government professor at a college in Connecticut.”
“Really? That’s awesome!” He looked thoughtful for a moment, “And completely unexpected.”
“She’s freaking smart and you know she has the balls to keep hundreds of entitled rich snobs in line.”
“No, no, no! Of course she’s able, I just didn’t think that she was willing. She always struck me as the performer type.”
“Yeah, well, we all were.” Puck thought back to the days of weekly assignments and national competitions. “But Rachel is the only one of us who actually wanted it after all. And if you ever see Mercedes in her classroom, you’ll realize how much teaching and wailing Aretha Franklin on a stage have in common.”
At Blaine’s raised eyebrow, he smirked, “It’s all about demanding the R-E-S-P-E-C-T and Professor Jones scares the crap out of me and I’ve seen her half-naked and on top of Finn.”
“WHAT?” The kids (and the other occupants of the train car) looked over with wide-eyes at the now-red-faced columnist. Puck smirked and motioned for Ziva and Xander to continue with their conspiring.
“So Kurt didn’t tell you about Finn and Mercedes. Interesting.” He paused, before continuing, “Well, they’re married. Finn is high school music teacher.”
Blaine’s mouth opened as if to say something, but no sound came out. He slumped into his seat, stunned. Puck shrugged and put in his earphones. The sounds of Journey lulled him into a comfortable state, only to be interrupted ten minutes later, when Blaine apparently shook himself out of his stupor and started pouting at the lack of attention he was getting. Puck sighed and handed him an earbud. Blaine’s face took on that ridiculous smile again as he placed it in his ear.
Strangers, waiting, up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the niii-i-iight.
It took them two hours on the train to get from their Park Slope neighborhood to the Bronx Zoo. The trip was lengthened by the sheer amount of bags Blaine had.
“Dude, what do you need eight bags for? It’s one night. You look like you and Xander are crossing the Atlantic to find refuge in the New World.”
Xander and Ziva giggled, even though Puck was about ninety-nine percent sure they didn’t understand the joke. He made a funny face at them and had them giggling more furiously.
“I don’t know what I brought all this stuff for, really. But I have a tent and sleeping bags and then I brought extra clothes and underwear, not to mention pajamas and a first aid kit and-”
“Okay, okay. I get it. You prepared for the apocalypse. Whatever. Is your tent big enough to fit me and Ziva?”
Blaine’s face was smug, “Forgot something, Puck?”
Puck scowled, “No, Anderson, I didn’t. But I thought that if your tent was big enough, we could share and only have to waste time to put up one tent. That way Ziva and Xander can have their first sleepover and you and I can cover each other.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Blaine nodded furiously, free curls flying. As they reached the entrance to the zoo, the adults traded one last glance before giving their children the go-ahead, releasing them to the so-called wild.
“You want to pick a place to pitch the tent? I’ve actually never been here before,” Blaine was scoping out options, but deferred to Puck’s expertise.
“Yeah, let’s go by the entrance to the aquarium. It doesn’t smell too bad and it’s close to the bathrooms if the kids need to go at night. It looks like the majority of the party is over by there anyway.” Puck picked up the four bags he brought and started toward the preferred location. After a few steps, he backtracked and picked up two of the bags that Blaine was having trouble balancing. He walked off without a word as Blaine called out his thanks.
Puck had a feeling that this was going to be a long night.
He was right. After the kids (of which there were thirty. Thirty five-and-six-year-olds. Some parents were masochists) went on the zoo-sponsored petting tour of the zoo, they were fed all the foods that kids would never turn down: hamburgers, hot dogs, French-fries, and the only green thing in sight was the ketchup. Once the kids were stuffed with dinner, they sang Happy Birthday to Sami and ate the ice cream cake. By that time, it was already nine, an hour past Ziva’s regularly scheduled bedtime. Any hope of her being too tired to protest going sleep flew out the window as her and Xander ran around the tent, chasing after a pair of twin girls that Puck knew were in Xander’s class.
“Time to impose pajamas and lights out?” Blaine asked. As tired as Puck was, Blaine looked about ten times worse.
“Yeah, dude, we can try. You can go ahead and crash, though, if you want. You look like crap.”
“Thanks, Puck. You really know how to charm a guy-” He yawned, “Sorry. I was so worried that Xander was going to have a bad time, that I only got a couple of hours of sleep last night.”
Puck shook his head in disbelief, “Dude, you’re being stupid. Xander is fine. Look at him!” He gestured wildly to the foursome running around a bench, screeching and laughing in glee.
Blaine’s tired eyes softened and a small smile took over his face, “Yeah, he looks like he’s having fun, doesn’t he?” He turned to Puck for confirmation.
Puck gave it to him, “He’s having a blast. Why are you so worried?”
“I don’t know,” Blaine sighed heavily. “The move was hard on him-not that he had many friends before. He’s always been extremely shy and not many kids took the time to even approach him, not to mention befriend him.”
“And then Ziva came along.”
Blaine chuckled, “Yes, and then Hurricane Ziva came along and Xander was blown away into her world of mischief and mayhem.”
“That sounds about right.” Puck nodded, grinning as he saw his daughter drag Xander by his hand to take refuge from the twins behind a trashcan.
“I want to thank you, Puck.” Puck’s head snapped around to gaze at the resolved face Blaine was sporting.
“For what?”
“For being my friend. For helping me adjust mine and Xander’s life while my husband is away. For producing the best friend my son has ever had. Take your pick.” Blaine shrugged, “There’s not much I can’t thank you and Kurt and Ziva for.”
Puck gaped at him, shocked by the sincerity and conviction he heard in Blaine’s words. Suddenly, all of Kurt’s assertions about Blaine’s character sounded true, rather than some misplaced sense of teenage admiration. He understood what Kurt saw all those years ago and what he insisted hadn’t changed in the thirteen years they were apart.
Blaine Anderson, as naïve as he could be, was one of those all-around great guys that had enough faith in humanity to keep even the cynics like Puck afloat.
“No problem, Anderson. It’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my other friends.”
And it was the vocal acceptance of their friendship that brought the largest smile Puck has ever seen on Blaine’s face. Jesus, he was going to need sunglasses.
Later that night, after Puck and Blaine managed to get both kids into their pajamas and into their respective sleeping bags, Puck shifted around in his own sleeping bag, attempting to get comfortable. Blaine passed out as soon as Xander and Ziva’s breath evened out, sometime around eleven. Now it was nearly midnight and Puck still has not had more than a couple of minutes of sleep.
“Daddy!”
Puck stilled, wondering if what he’d heard was a figment of his imagination and lack of sleep, but when he heard it again, he turned to the sleeping bag next to him.
“Yeah, Zivs?” he whispered back, aware of the other two occupants of the tent.
“I had fun today.”
Puck chuckled softly, “I’m glad, princess. Why are you awake?”
“I felt you move around.” Nice job, Puckerman. You woke up your five-year-old. “Why are you awake, Daddy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it because you miss Papa?”
Oh. Could that be it? Did Puck finally develop that vagina that had been threatening to grow ever since he had a child? Was he pathetic enough to not be able to sleep without the sounds of Kurt’s soft snoring beside him?
Probably.
“Nah. It’s because the ground’s so hard.”
Ziva unzipped her sleeping bag and wormed her way into her father’s, “Don’t worry, Daddy, you can cuddle with me tonight.”
He’s gotten so bad at lying that his toddler could see through it. Great. At least he could spend the night holding on to her.
“Night, baby.”
“Night, Daddy. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Ever since Ziva was born, Puck slept that much more lightly, training his body to wake up at a moment’s notice or a baby’s shifts in the night. Which is how he found himself blinking his eyes open at four in the morning. Turning to the lying body next to him in his sleeping bag, he was relieved when he saw Ziva still asleep.
Confused as to why his body woke him up, he looked around the tent. In the sleeping bag next to Ziva’s unoccupied one, he saw Xander sitting up, eyes wide.
“Dad?”
“No, bud, it’s Puck. What’s up?”
“Sorry, Mr. Puckerman. I just wanted to wake up my dad because I have to go to the bathroom.” Even whispering, his voice sounded meek.
“Don’t do that, Xander. I can take you to the bathroom.”
“I’m sorry.”
Puck scoffed lightly, “Don’t be sorry, little dude. Come on.” Somehow, he maneuvered his way around Ziva’s sleeping body so that she did not wake up. Once he was out of the sleeping bag, Puck crouched in the tent and took a hold of one of Xander’s hands. Slowly, they made it out into the cool summer air.
“There we are. Alright, Xan-man, let’s go.”
Xander kept his head down, but nodded, walking alongside Puck in the direction of the bathrooms. Once inside, Puck turned to the six-year-old boy.
“Do you need help, buddy?”
Xander shook his head, wordlessly.
“Okay, I’ll be right out here.”
A few moments later, Puck heard the toilet being flushed and the sink turning on. Soon, Xander was outside, head down again.
“Feel better?” A nod. “Good.”
As they walked, Puck took care to examine the shy boy. With a tan complexion and dark curls, Xander looked like the perfect clone of Blaine Anderson. He would turn out to be attractive, Puck guessed, but humble and withdrawn. Every girl’s dream, Puck thought, snorting softly to himself.
The noise made Xander look up briefly, but his head was back toward the ground when he said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Puckerman, for waking you up.”
Puck stopped and knelt down so that he was looking up at the boy’s blushing face, “Hey, Xander, listen to me. Don’t worry about it. I’m a dad; we’re supposed to do these things. And your dad is one of my friends. Don’t be afraid to ever ask me or Kurt for anything, okay?”
Xander hesitated and then nodded, “Okay, Mr. Puckerman.”
“And none of that. Call me Puck or Noah, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Puck drew out the words, teasing him.
“Okay, Puck!” Xander was grinning shyly, but grinning nonetheless.
“That’s it!”
The two made their way back into the tent and into their sleeping bags.
“Goodnight, Puck.”
Puck smiled, mission accomplished, “Goodnight, Xander.”
The next morning, Puck woke up to the sounds of whispering and giggles. Xander and Ziva were awake, conversing about the night they had. Puck groaned and pulled himself up, reaching for his cell phone to check the time.
“It’s eight-thirty, Puck. Breakfast will be in half-an-hour and then we have to be out by nine-thirty.”
Puck groaned and fell back down into his sleeping bag, he did not get enough sleep and his back was killing him. He was way too old for this shit.
“How much sleep did you get?”
“Not enough, you?”
Blaine sighed, “I slept great. Too great, actually. You did all the work last night.”
Puck waved his hand in dismissal, “Forget it. You were exhausted and Xander and I had an adventure, right, Xan-man?”
“Right!”
Puck, with his eyes closed, could feel Blaine’s blinding smile.
They miraculously packed up their things in time to leave right after the kids finished up with their breakfast of sugary cereal. Puck, carrying six bags, was dreading going into the train for two hours after they had left the park.
“Don’t you ever wish magic was real so that we could just Apparate everywhere?”
Puck grunted in agreement with Blaine’s sentiment, but was prevented from saying anything when he looked across the street and saw his husband leaning against their Volvo SUV.
“Morning, gentleman.”
“Papa!” Ziva shrieked, waving wildly at the man, as if he couldn’t see her.
Puck looked both ways on the street, before leading Ziva and Xander across the street. Blaine followed, hindered by the bags he was holding. Once safely on the other side of the street, Ziva let go of his hand and ran to her papa, who picked her up and twirled her around.
“Hi, baby! Did you have fun?”
“Yeah, Papa! We had so much fun, right, Daddy?”
Kurt snorted at the look Puck sent Ziva, “Did you get any sleep last night, Noah?”
“Some. Hi, babe.” He kissed his husband softly, “What are you doing here?”
Kurt shrugged, Ziva still on his hip, “I figured you two would not have gotten enough sleep and the train isn’t as reliable on a Saturday, so I drove here. Breakfast is waiting at home. I made bread!”
Puck moaned, “You’re a God-send, Kurt.”
Kurt smiled, “I know. How’s it going, Blaine?”
“Much better now that you’re here. Thanks so much, Kurt.”
“No problem. Now, how about we load the car up. And while we do that, Xander, I want to know what your absolute favorite parts of the party were. And don’t be stingy with the details, you hear?”
Blaine and Puck traded glances as Kurt and Xander engaged in the most enthusiastic conversation Xander has had to date. How did he do that?
Author: eyesarmslove
Beta: The lovely Alex (xlessxthanx3x )
Type: Multipart
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Puck, Blaine/?, Puck/Blaine friendship (gasp!)
Genre: Futurefic
Warning: None
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
Author Notes: Future kid!fic.
Summary: Puck was digging the dad gig. That is, he was, until the new neighbors arrived.
Word Count: 5500, this part (13,100 overall)
Two weeks had past since the day Puck helped Blaine move in. The new family was finally settled in and a routine that Puck (and Kurt) could not have foreseen had been established: Kurt, Puck, and Ziva had dinner with Blaine and Xander twice a week, location alternating between the two houses; Puck and Blaine walked the kids to school every morning and picked them up together every afternoon; Blaine accompanied Puck to the grocery store (not that Puck wanted him to, but he had to admit, having someone there to double-check the list cut out the annoying practice of going back to that hell-hole); and Puck took the time to give Blaine the lowdown on the neighbors.
“You know,” Kurt said one evening as he was clearing the dinner table, “When Blaine moved in next door, the best I thought I could help for was civility. I had no one idea you guys were going to be friends.”
Puck, who was putting the left over food in Tupperware, snorted, “Babe, Anderson and I are not friends.”
“Your childish way of not using his given name aside,” Kurt replied, eyebrow raised, “I have to disagree.” He walked by the counter Puck was using to put away the food, deliberately brushing his front along Puck’s back. He leaned into the not-quite embrace to whisper into Puck ear, “You’re full of shit, Noah Puckerman.”
Puck dropped the spoon he was using, a full-body shiver running through him. Kurt laughed as Puck whirled around and grabbed his hips, pulling him so that they were plastered against each other. “Cursing and full name, babe? Someone wants to get laid.” He waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, causing Kurt to laugh some more.
“If I wanted to use your full name, I would have said Noah Isaac Hummel-Puckerman.” He smirked as he received the expected reaction. Puck growled, tightening his grip on Kurt’s waist, grinding his hips into his husband’s. So he had a domestic kink, sue him.
“Someone really wants to get laid.” The gleam in his blue eyes was the only response he needed. Puck leaned in and parted Kurt’s lips with his tongue, moaning when Kurt ran his tongue against his.
They were making out against the counter like teenagers when a ringing telephone startled them apart. Puck opened his mouth to tell Kurt to ignore it when Kurt pulled away and picked up the house phone.
“Hummel-Puckerman residence. Kurt speaking. Oh, hi Blaine!” Puck glared, What a fucking cockblock.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. My day was pretty good. Noah made an excellent dinner.” Kurt paused and laughed, “Yeah, sure. One second.” He put a hand over the speaker and offered it to Puck. “It’s for you,” he sang.
Puck glared at the proffered phone. Kurt smirked and rose that insufferable eyebrow again, “Aren’t you excited to talk to your BFF?”
Puck snatched away the phone, “You’re not nearly as cute as you think you are.”
Kurt laughed out loud, “I’m adorable, and you know it.”
Puck ignored him and barked into the phone, “What?”
Blaine’s answering laugh only served to piss him off more, “Bad day, Puck?”
“It was fine ‘til you called.”
“Ouch,” Blaine’ jovial tone held no hurt, “So you don’t want to talk?”
“Spit it out, Anderson, what do you want?”
Blaine’s voice turned serious, “I was rooting through Xander’s bag just now and I found-“
“Condoms? Dude, I can’t help you there. I was a stud, but not that much of stud,” Puck snarked, pleased with himself before the smirk was wiped off his face when Kurt, who had heard the exchange, sang out (again with the sing-song voice) “You’re flirting, Noah.” Puck’s eyes widened, moving the phone away before Blaine could hear and swiped at Kurt with a dishtowel. Kurt practically giggled as he pranced out of the way.
“Ha, ha, ha. If Xander had condoms in his bag by the time he was twenty, I’ll be happy. As it is, he needs to get out of his shell to find a significant other.”
“You got one, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I was extroverted and suave.”
“And a total douchebag. Dude, come on.”
“Look who’s talking!”
Kurt coughed into his fist, “Flirting!”
“Whatever. So, what did you find in Xan-man’s bag?”
“An invitation to a birthday party. A girl named-“
“Samantha Dent. Sami. I know, Ziva was invited, too.” He heard a sigh of relief over the line.
“Oh, thank God. So, which one of you is going?”
Puck rolled his eyes, “Why? You want someone to walk with on the way to the party? Jesus, Anderson, I know you’re co-dependent, but that’s just sa-“
“Puck! You didn’t read the invitation, did you?”
More eye rolling, “No. Why should I? Standard date, time, location shit.”
“You should read it. Or I can read it out loud, if you want.”
“Hold your curls. I’ve got it on the refrigerator right here.” He scanned the card, his eyes caught on one line. “Fucking hell!”
“Language!” Kurt exclaimed at the exact time Blaine did over the line.
“Anderson, there is no fucking way-“ Kurt slapped him on the shoulder. “-I’m going to sleep over at a zoo.”
“Let me see that.” Kurt took the invitation out of Puck’s pliant fingers.
“If Ziva isn’t going, then I can’t send Xander. His teacher says that she’s still the only kid he’ll make eye contact with. If we go without her, it’ll be a total disaster and-“
Kurt cut him off by taking the phone from his husband’s hands and saying, “Blaine, relax. Ziva will be going and Noah will escort her. RSVP for the party and pass along Ziva’s as well. Have a good night.” He hung up the phone.
Puck’s jaw dropped, “What the hell, Kurt? What the fuck was that? I’m not going to a zoo!”
“This isn’t about you.” Kurt turned from Puck and continued to wash dishes. “This is about your daughter. Your daughter who loves animals and adores her friends and would feel utterly left out if her entire class attended the party and she was the only one who didn’t.” Puck’s gut clenched.
“Fine. That’s true. But why do I have to take her? You don’t see enough of her as it is and-” Puck stopped talking at the sound of dishes cluttering in the sink. The kitchen was silent, air heavy with words unspoken. Oh, fuck. Why the fuck did I say that? This is not-
Kurt turned to him, face pinched and eyes bright. It was subtle, but Puck could see his lips trembling. “You’re right, Noah. I’m a horrible father. I chose my career over my baby. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Babe, I didn’t-“ Kurt shoved past him and moved towards the stairs, silent. “Where are you going?”
“To spend time with the daughter I’ve neglected-“ Puck winced at the sound of tears coating Kurt’s words. “-I’ll finish the dishes later.” With that, he calmly walked up the stairs.
The universe: 5,673,879. Noah Puckerman: 0.
Puck finished cleaning the kitchen and went on to vacuum the living room, knowing full well that it was Kurt’s turn. He also knew that vacuuming was Kurt’s least favorite chore and that Puck didn’t have nearly enough balls to face the designer just yet. Which is why he decided to re-organize the massive DVD collection the two of them shared, creating a system categorized by genre and then alphabetically by last name of lead actor. It was the most inane system, but Puck needed a distraction. By the time all one hundred and thirty two DVDs were sorted, Puck was creeping up the stairs, careful not to make any noise as he snuck past the door of Ziva’s room, which was slightly ajar. Sounds of Kurt’s voice wafted into the hallway, paralyzing Puck in place.
“‘Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry’s faithful, finally beaten broomstick.’”
“No!”
Puck jumped at the volume and intensity of his daughter’s outburst. From inside the room, Kurt chuckled, “What’s wrong, Ziva?”
“Papa, Harry’s broom was broken. That was his present from his teacher! He’s gonna be so sad!” A smile made its way on Puck’s face, anticipating his husband’s response.
“Well, we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we? It’s time for you to go to sleep.” Ziva groaned.
“But, Papa, I want to know what happens next!”
“Sorry, baby, but you know the rules: one chapter a night.”
“Paaaaapa!” Ziva’s whining was legendary, “If you read to me some more, I’ll give you extra kisses!” Puck couldn’t hold in his mirth. Kurt’s bark of a laugh could be heard as well.
“I’m being bribed by my own daughter! Come here, you little-” Suddenly the hallway was filled with the sounds of Ziva’s shrieking laughter, punctuated by gasps of breath that she struggled to take in as her father tickled her.
Motivated by his favorite sound in the world (the mixture of Kurt and Ziva’s giggles), Puck stepped into the room. Kurt stilled at the interruption, his 100-megawatt smile dimming only slightly. Ziva took the opportunity to break free of her papa’s hold and ran to her daddy.
“Daddy,” she looked up at him, the picture of innocence with black curls, translucent skin, green eyes bundled up in purple footsie pajamas. Puck’s heart clenched as he realized that Ziva was the best thing he’s ever done, his greatest contribution to the world. “Daddy, will you read me another chapter? I’ll give you extra kisses!” Puck laughed out loud. Yes, definitely the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
“No, Zivs. Your papa is right, one chapter a night. Tomorrow, munchkin, okay?”
Her face dropped, but she nodded, “Okay, daddy.” She turned and ran to her bed, leaping on top of the comforter. Kurt picked her up, kissed her on the cheek and placed her under the covers, “Goodnight, baby girl.”
“’Night, papa. Thank you for reading with me.” Kurt smile was soft and content.
“My pleasure, Ziva.”
Puck made his way to the other side of her bed, sitting next to Kurt. He placed a kiss on Ziva’s forehead, taking a second to absorb the feeling of her smooth skin, “Sweet dreams, princess.”
“’Night, daddy.” Kurt turned on the night light with a click and he and Puck made their way out of the room. As Puck switched off the overhead light and was closing the door a sound made him and Kurt pause.
“I love you.” Ziva’s voice was already filled with sleep, but the sincerity had Puck looking into Kurt’s equally wide eyes.
“We love you, too,” they answered in unison, not looking away from each other. Finally, Kurt broke the gaze and walked down the hall. Puck sighed as he heard Kurt descending downstairs. He closed the door gently and followed his husband.
When he reached the kitchen, he found Kurt putting away the now-dry dishes from the dish rack. His shoulders were set and back ramrod straight. Puck might as well have been walking into a warzone.
“Babe, I’ve got it. Why don’t you go into the living room and pop in a DVD? I’ll finish here and make some tea.”
“No, thank you.” Kurt’s, well, curt tone cut through Puck.
“How about you curl up with a magazine then? I can still make t-“
“Noah!”
Puck froze. Both of Kurt’s hands were gripping the edge of the counter and his head hung in a picture of-anger? Frustration? Sadness? Puck didn’t know which option was worse.
“Noah.” Kurt’s voice was softer, barely audible. The desolation came across loud and clear, however. “Noah, please stop. You did nothing wrong. No need for all the sucking up.”
“Hey, the blowjob was going to be a surprise! How’d you know?” My name is Puck and I use humor to deflect real emotion.
A surprised chuckle made its way past Kurt’s lips, his body relaxing slightly. His head was still bowed and his arms were trembling with the strain of supporting his weight and maintaining the death grip he had on the counter’s edge.
Puck stepped closer, “Kurt, what’s wrong? What’s going on in that crazy head of yours?” When he didn’t get an answer, Puck moved closer and grabbed Kurt’s chin, gently turning his head to face his. Kurt’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, his face was red and strained and Puck was pretty sure his stomach was somewhere near the center of the Earth by now, because Kurt crying was really the worst thing and now he was fucking sobbing and Puck couldn’t do anything but wrap his arms around Kurt’s shaking shoulders and hold him against his body too fucking tightly, but it didn’t matter because Puck was never going to let go.
They fell to the floor in a heap when Kurt let go of the counter and let go of everything because one second Puck was forcing Kurt into an awkward embrace and the next he was supporting Kurt’s dead weight. They were both on their knees, Kurt’s face buried in Puck’s neck and Puck was hugging Kurt like he wanted to absorb him into his body and he fucking did, because maybe by being one person, they could do this. They could love and be loved and carry on living knowing how much they kicked ass at life. Because Kurt and Puck were pretty awesome, but KurtandPuck were phenomenal.
Puck was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the whimpering, “I chose my career over my baby. My baby, Noah.”
The tears that were building up in his eyes finally spilled over as Puck all but growled, “Stop.” He gripped Kurt’s shoulders and pushed him back so that they could see into each other’s eyes. “Stop.” Kurt’s eyes were red and wide and shocked. Puck needed to make him understand.
“You didn’t choose anything. Anything, Kurt! You have both.” Kurt closed his eyes and shook his head. Puck gripped his shoulders more tightly, causing Kurt to look at him. “Listen to me. You. Have. Both. You have a job that you love and fucking rock at and you have a little girl upstairs that worships the ground you fucking walk on. You have a little girl that goes fucking apeshit every night when she hears your key in the lock because it means her world is complete again-”
“That’s just it, Noah! She’s so excited to see me everyday because I’m never here!” His body was wracked by sobs again and he fell forward into Puck’s welcoming body.
“You come home every day at six, Kurt,” he whispered into Kurt’s ear as his husband cried into his chest, “Six. That means she has three hours at home without you. In the life of a five-year-old? That’s nothing. Hell, she’s in her own world most of the time, she doesn’t even notice me and I’m here all the time.” He pushed Kurt up, again and looked him in the eye. “Babe, you’re amazing. You wake up at the ass crack of dawn every day just to go to work and come home in time for dinner. Then, even after a long-ass day, when I know you’re exhausted, you spend hours playing with the most hyperactive five-year old ever. After that, you still have enough energy to roll around in the sack with the motherfuckin’ sex shark!”
Kurt laughed. It was the most snot-filled laugh Puck’s ever seen, but to him, it was the eighth wonder of the world. “Babe, you’re not Superdad. You’re Superman! You’re fucking Supereverything, okay? Don’t ever forget that.”
Puck tried as hard as he could to convey all the love and trust and admiration he had for the mess of a man that sat before him with his eyes. Kurt stared back with his beautiful green eyes that fucking glowed and nodded slowly, “Thank you, Noah.”
Puck shrugged, “Just telling it like I see it. ‘Sides, I win major points for marrying Superman. Just call me Lois Lane.” Kurt laughed and smacked him in the shoulder. Puck grinned and reached his hand up to the counter, grabbing a dishtowel. He sniffed it and, when he deemed it clean enough, passed it to Kurt.
“Thank you, Noah. How delightfully charming of you.” There was that note of sarcastic disdain Puck knew and loved.
“I’m classy like that, Hummel.”
“Hummel-Puckerman.”
“Damn straight.”
They didn’t get up off the kitchen floor then, however. They were a little too preoccupied when Puck pushed Kurt on his back and made his way down Kurt’s body. He swallowed Kurt down with practiced ease and spent the next fifteen minutes turning Kurt into the better kind of quivering, shaking mess. After pushing Kurt to the edge, only to pull him back from it for the sixth time, he quit playing around and shoved him so far down his throat, his nose touched Kurt’s perfectly taut abdomen. And then he hummed. He hummed and Kurt lost it. Kurt sat straight up, grabbed Puck’s head, and screamed. Puck swallowed everything his husband had to offer.
Self-esteem reaffirming sex? Best sex ever.
That Friday found Blaine and Puck on the 4 train, going uptown. Puck sat back in his seat and sighed as he watched Ziva and Xander sitting in the seats across the aisle from them, hands intertwined and heads together, whispering. Puck groaned, prompting Blaine to ask, “What’s wrong?”
“You know all those awful chick-flicks that are about a girl and a dude who grew up together and end up married by the end?”
“Those are my favorites!”
Puck gave him some serious side-eye, “Dude.” Blaine grinned his obnoxious full-blown smile and Puck rolled his eyes, “Anyway, the opening credits should be rolling right about now.”
Blaine’s smile shrunk and his eyebrow furrowed in confusion before understanding dawned on his face. He looked at the kids and then looked back to Puck, “Why do you insist on thinking of our children as older than they are. Enjoy the prepubescent years, Puck. Teenagers are not going to be fun.”
Puck snorted, “Oh, like you can talk. At least your child doesn’t embody every diva from Patti LuPone to Mercedes Jones.”
“Mercedes! How is she doing nowadays?”
Puck grinned, “She’s kicking ass and taking some serious numbers as a government professor at a college in Connecticut.”
“Really? That’s awesome!” He looked thoughtful for a moment, “And completely unexpected.”
“She’s freaking smart and you know she has the balls to keep hundreds of entitled rich snobs in line.”
“No, no, no! Of course she’s able, I just didn’t think that she was willing. She always struck me as the performer type.”
“Yeah, well, we all were.” Puck thought back to the days of weekly assignments and national competitions. “But Rachel is the only one of us who actually wanted it after all. And if you ever see Mercedes in her classroom, you’ll realize how much teaching and wailing Aretha Franklin on a stage have in common.”
At Blaine’s raised eyebrow, he smirked, “It’s all about demanding the R-E-S-P-E-C-T and Professor Jones scares the crap out of me and I’ve seen her half-naked and on top of Finn.”
“WHAT?” The kids (and the other occupants of the train car) looked over with wide-eyes at the now-red-faced columnist. Puck smirked and motioned for Ziva and Xander to continue with their conspiring.
“So Kurt didn’t tell you about Finn and Mercedes. Interesting.” He paused, before continuing, “Well, they’re married. Finn is high school music teacher.”
Blaine’s mouth opened as if to say something, but no sound came out. He slumped into his seat, stunned. Puck shrugged and put in his earphones. The sounds of Journey lulled him into a comfortable state, only to be interrupted ten minutes later, when Blaine apparently shook himself out of his stupor and started pouting at the lack of attention he was getting. Puck sighed and handed him an earbud. Blaine’s face took on that ridiculous smile again as he placed it in his ear.
Strangers, waiting, up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the niii-i-iight.
It took them two hours on the train to get from their Park Slope neighborhood to the Bronx Zoo. The trip was lengthened by the sheer amount of bags Blaine had.
“Dude, what do you need eight bags for? It’s one night. You look like you and Xander are crossing the Atlantic to find refuge in the New World.”
Xander and Ziva giggled, even though Puck was about ninety-nine percent sure they didn’t understand the joke. He made a funny face at them and had them giggling more furiously.
“I don’t know what I brought all this stuff for, really. But I have a tent and sleeping bags and then I brought extra clothes and underwear, not to mention pajamas and a first aid kit and-”
“Okay, okay. I get it. You prepared for the apocalypse. Whatever. Is your tent big enough to fit me and Ziva?”
Blaine’s face was smug, “Forgot something, Puck?”
Puck scowled, “No, Anderson, I didn’t. But I thought that if your tent was big enough, we could share and only have to waste time to put up one tent. That way Ziva and Xander can have their first sleepover and you and I can cover each other.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Blaine nodded furiously, free curls flying. As they reached the entrance to the zoo, the adults traded one last glance before giving their children the go-ahead, releasing them to the so-called wild.
“You want to pick a place to pitch the tent? I’ve actually never been here before,” Blaine was scoping out options, but deferred to Puck’s expertise.
“Yeah, let’s go by the entrance to the aquarium. It doesn’t smell too bad and it’s close to the bathrooms if the kids need to go at night. It looks like the majority of the party is over by there anyway.” Puck picked up the four bags he brought and started toward the preferred location. After a few steps, he backtracked and picked up two of the bags that Blaine was having trouble balancing. He walked off without a word as Blaine called out his thanks.
Puck had a feeling that this was going to be a long night.
He was right. After the kids (of which there were thirty. Thirty five-and-six-year-olds. Some parents were masochists) went on the zoo-sponsored petting tour of the zoo, they were fed all the foods that kids would never turn down: hamburgers, hot dogs, French-fries, and the only green thing in sight was the ketchup. Once the kids were stuffed with dinner, they sang Happy Birthday to Sami and ate the ice cream cake. By that time, it was already nine, an hour past Ziva’s regularly scheduled bedtime. Any hope of her being too tired to protest going sleep flew out the window as her and Xander ran around the tent, chasing after a pair of twin girls that Puck knew were in Xander’s class.
“Time to impose pajamas and lights out?” Blaine asked. As tired as Puck was, Blaine looked about ten times worse.
“Yeah, dude, we can try. You can go ahead and crash, though, if you want. You look like crap.”
“Thanks, Puck. You really know how to charm a guy-” He yawned, “Sorry. I was so worried that Xander was going to have a bad time, that I only got a couple of hours of sleep last night.”
Puck shook his head in disbelief, “Dude, you’re being stupid. Xander is fine. Look at him!” He gestured wildly to the foursome running around a bench, screeching and laughing in glee.
Blaine’s tired eyes softened and a small smile took over his face, “Yeah, he looks like he’s having fun, doesn’t he?” He turned to Puck for confirmation.
Puck gave it to him, “He’s having a blast. Why are you so worried?”
“I don’t know,” Blaine sighed heavily. “The move was hard on him-not that he had many friends before. He’s always been extremely shy and not many kids took the time to even approach him, not to mention befriend him.”
“And then Ziva came along.”
Blaine chuckled, “Yes, and then Hurricane Ziva came along and Xander was blown away into her world of mischief and mayhem.”
“That sounds about right.” Puck nodded, grinning as he saw his daughter drag Xander by his hand to take refuge from the twins behind a trashcan.
“I want to thank you, Puck.” Puck’s head snapped around to gaze at the resolved face Blaine was sporting.
“For what?”
“For being my friend. For helping me adjust mine and Xander’s life while my husband is away. For producing the best friend my son has ever had. Take your pick.” Blaine shrugged, “There’s not much I can’t thank you and Kurt and Ziva for.”
Puck gaped at him, shocked by the sincerity and conviction he heard in Blaine’s words. Suddenly, all of Kurt’s assertions about Blaine’s character sounded true, rather than some misplaced sense of teenage admiration. He understood what Kurt saw all those years ago and what he insisted hadn’t changed in the thirteen years they were apart.
Blaine Anderson, as naïve as he could be, was one of those all-around great guys that had enough faith in humanity to keep even the cynics like Puck afloat.
“No problem, Anderson. It’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my other friends.”
And it was the vocal acceptance of their friendship that brought the largest smile Puck has ever seen on Blaine’s face. Jesus, he was going to need sunglasses.
Later that night, after Puck and Blaine managed to get both kids into their pajamas and into their respective sleeping bags, Puck shifted around in his own sleeping bag, attempting to get comfortable. Blaine passed out as soon as Xander and Ziva’s breath evened out, sometime around eleven. Now it was nearly midnight and Puck still has not had more than a couple of minutes of sleep.
“Daddy!”
Puck stilled, wondering if what he’d heard was a figment of his imagination and lack of sleep, but when he heard it again, he turned to the sleeping bag next to him.
“Yeah, Zivs?” he whispered back, aware of the other two occupants of the tent.
“I had fun today.”
Puck chuckled softly, “I’m glad, princess. Why are you awake?”
“I felt you move around.” Nice job, Puckerman. You woke up your five-year-old. “Why are you awake, Daddy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it because you miss Papa?”
Oh. Could that be it? Did Puck finally develop that vagina that had been threatening to grow ever since he had a child? Was he pathetic enough to not be able to sleep without the sounds of Kurt’s soft snoring beside him?
Probably.
“Nah. It’s because the ground’s so hard.”
Ziva unzipped her sleeping bag and wormed her way into her father’s, “Don’t worry, Daddy, you can cuddle with me tonight.”
He’s gotten so bad at lying that his toddler could see through it. Great. At least he could spend the night holding on to her.
“Night, baby.”
“Night, Daddy. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Ever since Ziva was born, Puck slept that much more lightly, training his body to wake up at a moment’s notice or a baby’s shifts in the night. Which is how he found himself blinking his eyes open at four in the morning. Turning to the lying body next to him in his sleeping bag, he was relieved when he saw Ziva still asleep.
Confused as to why his body woke him up, he looked around the tent. In the sleeping bag next to Ziva’s unoccupied one, he saw Xander sitting up, eyes wide.
“Dad?”
“No, bud, it’s Puck. What’s up?”
“Sorry, Mr. Puckerman. I just wanted to wake up my dad because I have to go to the bathroom.” Even whispering, his voice sounded meek.
“Don’t do that, Xander. I can take you to the bathroom.”
“I’m sorry.”
Puck scoffed lightly, “Don’t be sorry, little dude. Come on.” Somehow, he maneuvered his way around Ziva’s sleeping body so that she did not wake up. Once he was out of the sleeping bag, Puck crouched in the tent and took a hold of one of Xander’s hands. Slowly, they made it out into the cool summer air.
“There we are. Alright, Xan-man, let’s go.”
Xander kept his head down, but nodded, walking alongside Puck in the direction of the bathrooms. Once inside, Puck turned to the six-year-old boy.
“Do you need help, buddy?”
Xander shook his head, wordlessly.
“Okay, I’ll be right out here.”
A few moments later, Puck heard the toilet being flushed and the sink turning on. Soon, Xander was outside, head down again.
“Feel better?” A nod. “Good.”
As they walked, Puck took care to examine the shy boy. With a tan complexion and dark curls, Xander looked like the perfect clone of Blaine Anderson. He would turn out to be attractive, Puck guessed, but humble and withdrawn. Every girl’s dream, Puck thought, snorting softly to himself.
The noise made Xander look up briefly, but his head was back toward the ground when he said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Puckerman, for waking you up.”
Puck stopped and knelt down so that he was looking up at the boy’s blushing face, “Hey, Xander, listen to me. Don’t worry about it. I’m a dad; we’re supposed to do these things. And your dad is one of my friends. Don’t be afraid to ever ask me or Kurt for anything, okay?”
Xander hesitated and then nodded, “Okay, Mr. Puckerman.”
“And none of that. Call me Puck or Noah, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Puck drew out the words, teasing him.
“Okay, Puck!” Xander was grinning shyly, but grinning nonetheless.
“That’s it!”
The two made their way back into the tent and into their sleeping bags.
“Goodnight, Puck.”
Puck smiled, mission accomplished, “Goodnight, Xander.”
The next morning, Puck woke up to the sounds of whispering and giggles. Xander and Ziva were awake, conversing about the night they had. Puck groaned and pulled himself up, reaching for his cell phone to check the time.
“It’s eight-thirty, Puck. Breakfast will be in half-an-hour and then we have to be out by nine-thirty.”
Puck groaned and fell back down into his sleeping bag, he did not get enough sleep and his back was killing him. He was way too old for this shit.
“How much sleep did you get?”
“Not enough, you?”
Blaine sighed, “I slept great. Too great, actually. You did all the work last night.”
Puck waved his hand in dismissal, “Forget it. You were exhausted and Xander and I had an adventure, right, Xan-man?”
“Right!”
Puck, with his eyes closed, could feel Blaine’s blinding smile.
They miraculously packed up their things in time to leave right after the kids finished up with their breakfast of sugary cereal. Puck, carrying six bags, was dreading going into the train for two hours after they had left the park.
“Don’t you ever wish magic was real so that we could just Apparate everywhere?”
Puck grunted in agreement with Blaine’s sentiment, but was prevented from saying anything when he looked across the street and saw his husband leaning against their Volvo SUV.
“Morning, gentleman.”
“Papa!” Ziva shrieked, waving wildly at the man, as if he couldn’t see her.
Puck looked both ways on the street, before leading Ziva and Xander across the street. Blaine followed, hindered by the bags he was holding. Once safely on the other side of the street, Ziva let go of his hand and ran to her papa, who picked her up and twirled her around.
“Hi, baby! Did you have fun?”
“Yeah, Papa! We had so much fun, right, Daddy?”
Kurt snorted at the look Puck sent Ziva, “Did you get any sleep last night, Noah?”
“Some. Hi, babe.” He kissed his husband softly, “What are you doing here?”
Kurt shrugged, Ziva still on his hip, “I figured you two would not have gotten enough sleep and the train isn’t as reliable on a Saturday, so I drove here. Breakfast is waiting at home. I made bread!”
Puck moaned, “You’re a God-send, Kurt.”
Kurt smiled, “I know. How’s it going, Blaine?”
“Much better now that you’re here. Thanks so much, Kurt.”
“No problem. Now, how about we load the car up. And while we do that, Xander, I want to know what your absolute favorite parts of the party were. And don’t be stingy with the details, you hear?”
Blaine and Puck traded glances as Kurt and Xander engaged in the most enthusiastic conversation Xander has had to date. How did he do that?