Everything: Balance
Title: Balance
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: established Puck/Kurt, Finn
Genre: bromance, family, a dash of angst
Spoilers: anything that’s aired
Warnings: language?
Summary: Puck is learning that it’s all about keeping the balance. Part 20 of the Everything verse.
Word Count: 1125
The phone calls have become as much a part of his life as they are of Kurt’s. Ignorant assholes on the other end of the line, calling him a faggot or a homo or a cocksucker and telling him he’s going to burn in hell. None of them are particularly original, and Puck sort of wishes he were used to them, but he isn’t. Every single one sends a jolt of discomfort down his spine, followed immediately by anger. It’s bad enough that he has to deal with the haters at school or when he’s out anywhere with Kurt. It’s ten times worse when they force themselves into his home without even having to use the door.
At least he manages to field all the calls himself. He erases the ones on the answering machine before his mother can hear them, and he never lets Sarah answer the phone when he’s home. He knows somebody is going to find out eventually. It’s just statistically impossible for him to be home for every single phone call. (And he knows all about stats, now that he’s taking the AP class.) It’s almost as statistically improbable that the first time Robbie answers the phone at their house, he gets to listen to some asshole spewing hate in his ear. But that’s what happens.
Puck jumps up to answer the phone when it rings, tossing aside the Harry Potter book he’d been reading to Sarah.
“Don’t worry about it, Noah,” Robbie calls from the kitchen, “I got it.”
Puck freezes at the breakfast bar, anxiously curling his toes into the living room carpet and watching as Robbie picks up the handset.
“Puckerman residence,” he says, all chipper and polite like he’s a secretary and not their mom’s boyfriend.
Puck can’t hear what the caller says, but he doesn’t need to from the way Robbie’s cheerful expression falls into a scowl.
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Robbie snaps, slamming the receiver down. He turns to look at Puck, his expression softening, but before he can say anything Puck’s mom is coming down the stairs, dressed for their date night.
“There’s money for pizza in the jar, Noah,” she says, kissing his cheek as she passes.
“Yeah. Okay.” Puck says absently, his attention still focused on Robbie, trying to figure out if he’s going to say anything. Puck doesn’t think so, but he’s only known the guy six weeks or so. It’s not enough time to figure out if he’s the kind of boyfriend that cares as much about his girlfriend’s kids as he does about his girlfriend.
Five minutes after they leave, Puck has already called for a pizza and has Sarah set up in the living room in front of The Sound of Music. It’s like eighty hours long, so Puck figures she’ll be occupied for a while.
He sends a text-hey can u come over?-and waits impatiently for the response.
Finally, about five minutes later, his phone vibrates on the kitchen table. Puck snatches it like it’s his lifeline and flips it open. Yeah. B ther in 5.
Finn lets himself in the way he’s been doing since he was eight and they lived on the same street. Puck hears him saying hello to Sarah while he’s kicking his shoes off and then he wanders into the kitchen, making the whole room look smaller just by his frankenteen presence.
“Dude, you look like shit.” Finn says, folding himself awkwardly into one of the kitchen chairs.
“Feel like it too.” Puck shrugged.
“You and Kurt didn’t, like, break up or anything?” Finn looks oddly panicked at the idea, like maybe he’s afraid he’s going to have to choose sides.
“No. He’s at Rachel’s glee girls night in.”
“That’s good. But it doesn’t tell me why you look like shit.”
Puck slouches further into his chair. “You know how Kurt gets phone calls?”
“Yeah,” Finn says, scowling. Even with Finn, they don’t need any further explanation beyond phone calls. “We’re unlisted, and we’ve changed the home number twice and he still gets, like, two a week.”
“So do I.” Puck shrugs.
For a second Finn looks surprised, like he didn’t even consider that Kurt might not be the only victim, before his expression slides back to normal. “Yeah, I guess people would call you too. It’s not like you and Kurt are being subtle about being in love.”
Puck feels a burst of anger at Finn’s implication that they should, before Finn’s face falls.
“Oh, fuck, I didn’t mean that the way it sounds.” Finn says quickly. “I just mean that you and Kurt don’t care what people think and it’s a good thing. But lots of assholes out there don’t agree, you know?”
“Yeah, bro. I know.”
“So, what, you get one of those phone calls tonight then?”
“Yeah.” Puck nods. “Except I didn’t answer it, my mom’s boyfriend did.”
“What happened?” Finn asks, looking worried again.
“He told the guy to fuck off. And then my mom came downstairs and he didn’t say anything else. But he’ll probably tell her and then she’ll be pissed since I haven’t told her about them.”
“No offense, dude, but she probably already knows. Burt gets calls at the shop and on his cell too. And with the amount of time you spend at our house, it seems kinda impossible that she hasn’t answered a single one.” Finn shrugged. “And she won’t be pissed. Knowing your mom, she’s just gonna wanna hug you and wash your hair or something to make you feel better about how much the world blows sometimes.”
“Maybe.”
“It totally sucks, but there’s not much you guys can do, right? Except try to balance all that shitty stuff out with good stuff.”
The doorbell rings and Puck remembers about the pizza.
“You hungry, dude?” He asks, going through the cash stash jar in the kitchen for enough for the pizza and a tip.
Finn shrugs, “Sure.”
Later, after the three of them eat the whole pizza (mostly down to Finn eating five slices) and Finn and Sarah are cracking jokes about The Sound of Music while the old nun sings for, like, fifty years about mountains and rivers (which they can get away with, since Kurt isn’t around to shush them), Puck gets out his phone to send a text to Kurt.
Love you, babe.
Finn is never going to be a Mensa candidate or take AP classes, but sometimes he just gets it. He’s right about balancing the shitty and the good, and Puck figures texting Kurt can really only help towards keeping the balance. Plus it will give Kurt something to brag about when the girls (Rachel) start fighting over whose boyfriend is the best.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: established Puck/Kurt, Finn
Genre: bromance, family, a dash of angst
Spoilers: anything that’s aired
Warnings: language?
Summary: Puck is learning that it’s all about keeping the balance. Part 20 of the Everything verse.
Word Count: 1125
The phone calls have become as much a part of his life as they are of Kurt’s. Ignorant assholes on the other end of the line, calling him a faggot or a homo or a cocksucker and telling him he’s going to burn in hell. None of them are particularly original, and Puck sort of wishes he were used to them, but he isn’t. Every single one sends a jolt of discomfort down his spine, followed immediately by anger. It’s bad enough that he has to deal with the haters at school or when he’s out anywhere with Kurt. It’s ten times worse when they force themselves into his home without even having to use the door.
At least he manages to field all the calls himself. He erases the ones on the answering machine before his mother can hear them, and he never lets Sarah answer the phone when he’s home. He knows somebody is going to find out eventually. It’s just statistically impossible for him to be home for every single phone call. (And he knows all about stats, now that he’s taking the AP class.) It’s almost as statistically improbable that the first time Robbie answers the phone at their house, he gets to listen to some asshole spewing hate in his ear. But that’s what happens.
Puck jumps up to answer the phone when it rings, tossing aside the Harry Potter book he’d been reading to Sarah.
“Don’t worry about it, Noah,” Robbie calls from the kitchen, “I got it.”
Puck freezes at the breakfast bar, anxiously curling his toes into the living room carpet and watching as Robbie picks up the handset.
“Puckerman residence,” he says, all chipper and polite like he’s a secretary and not their mom’s boyfriend.
Puck can’t hear what the caller says, but he doesn’t need to from the way Robbie’s cheerful expression falls into a scowl.
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Robbie snaps, slamming the receiver down. He turns to look at Puck, his expression softening, but before he can say anything Puck’s mom is coming down the stairs, dressed for their date night.
“There’s money for pizza in the jar, Noah,” she says, kissing his cheek as she passes.
“Yeah. Okay.” Puck says absently, his attention still focused on Robbie, trying to figure out if he’s going to say anything. Puck doesn’t think so, but he’s only known the guy six weeks or so. It’s not enough time to figure out if he’s the kind of boyfriend that cares as much about his girlfriend’s kids as he does about his girlfriend.
Five minutes after they leave, Puck has already called for a pizza and has Sarah set up in the living room in front of The Sound of Music. It’s like eighty hours long, so Puck figures she’ll be occupied for a while.
He sends a text-hey can u come over?-and waits impatiently for the response.
Finally, about five minutes later, his phone vibrates on the kitchen table. Puck snatches it like it’s his lifeline and flips it open. Yeah. B ther in 5.
Finn lets himself in the way he’s been doing since he was eight and they lived on the same street. Puck hears him saying hello to Sarah while he’s kicking his shoes off and then he wanders into the kitchen, making the whole room look smaller just by his frankenteen presence.
“Dude, you look like shit.” Finn says, folding himself awkwardly into one of the kitchen chairs.
“Feel like it too.” Puck shrugged.
“You and Kurt didn’t, like, break up or anything?” Finn looks oddly panicked at the idea, like maybe he’s afraid he’s going to have to choose sides.
“No. He’s at Rachel’s glee girls night in.”
“That’s good. But it doesn’t tell me why you look like shit.”
Puck slouches further into his chair. “You know how Kurt gets phone calls?”
“Yeah,” Finn says, scowling. Even with Finn, they don’t need any further explanation beyond phone calls. “We’re unlisted, and we’ve changed the home number twice and he still gets, like, two a week.”
“So do I.” Puck shrugs.
For a second Finn looks surprised, like he didn’t even consider that Kurt might not be the only victim, before his expression slides back to normal. “Yeah, I guess people would call you too. It’s not like you and Kurt are being subtle about being in love.”
Puck feels a burst of anger at Finn’s implication that they should, before Finn’s face falls.
“Oh, fuck, I didn’t mean that the way it sounds.” Finn says quickly. “I just mean that you and Kurt don’t care what people think and it’s a good thing. But lots of assholes out there don’t agree, you know?”
“Yeah, bro. I know.”
“So, what, you get one of those phone calls tonight then?”
“Yeah.” Puck nods. “Except I didn’t answer it, my mom’s boyfriend did.”
“What happened?” Finn asks, looking worried again.
“He told the guy to fuck off. And then my mom came downstairs and he didn’t say anything else. But he’ll probably tell her and then she’ll be pissed since I haven’t told her about them.”
“No offense, dude, but she probably already knows. Burt gets calls at the shop and on his cell too. And with the amount of time you spend at our house, it seems kinda impossible that she hasn’t answered a single one.” Finn shrugged. “And she won’t be pissed. Knowing your mom, she’s just gonna wanna hug you and wash your hair or something to make you feel better about how much the world blows sometimes.”
“Maybe.”
“It totally sucks, but there’s not much you guys can do, right? Except try to balance all that shitty stuff out with good stuff.”
The doorbell rings and Puck remembers about the pizza.
“You hungry, dude?” He asks, going through the cash stash jar in the kitchen for enough for the pizza and a tip.
Finn shrugs, “Sure.”
Later, after the three of them eat the whole pizza (mostly down to Finn eating five slices) and Finn and Sarah are cracking jokes about The Sound of Music while the old nun sings for, like, fifty years about mountains and rivers (which they can get away with, since Kurt isn’t around to shush them), Puck gets out his phone to send a text to Kurt.
Love you, babe.
Finn is never going to be a Mensa candidate or take AP classes, but sometimes he just gets it. He’s right about balancing the shitty and the good, and Puck figures texting Kurt can really only help towards keeping the balance. Plus it will give Kurt something to brag about when the girls (Rachel) start fighting over whose boyfriend is the best.