Fic: Prince Charming is an ASSHOLE
Title: Prince Charming is an ASSHOLE
Authors: une_fille / unequivocally
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Puck, Finn, and the women who are RUINING HIS LIFE.
Rating: R, cause it's Puck's POV
Words: 5222
Summary: This is the kind of shit that reminds Puck why he wishes he were an only child. A spin-off to The Life and Time of Sarah Puckerman, Aged 9.
Author notes: This is all christiesk 's fault. Seriously. She made the mistake making a suggestion that was so crack!tastic and insane that we couldn't resist. This shit is like heroin to us. Feel free to blame her for this. And to everyone who loved how sweet & cute the original fic was, do yourselves a favor and don't read this lol
Also, this was supposed to be a drabble, so... yeah, we really are kinda retarded.
Sometime past 2 AM he's pretty much at his limit as far as listening to the old lady nag, so he grabs his coat and stomps out the door screaming, "Jesus Christ, Berry, you get crazier with every passing day!" over his shoulder. He slams the door closed just as she throws something at it.
He's on the phone with Finn before he's even reached his truck, and he can tell from the tone in his buddy's voice that he was most definitely NOT sleeping.
"Hey man, get the couch ready, fucking Rachel is having a shit fit again." Before Finn has a chance to answer he mutters into the phone, "Remind me why I got married, again? ’Cause for the life of me, I can't remember!"
"Um," is all he gets from the end of the line.
"Exactly!" He revvs his engine and pulls out of the driveway. "You better have some fucking food at your place, Hudson, ’cause I'm starving."
The other line starts pinging in his ear and he groans. "God almighty, she's already fucking calling. Whatever, dude. I'm turning this shit off, I'll be there in a minute." He clicks the phone shut before Finn can reply, pulling the battery out of the phone forcefully and throwing it over his shoulder into the backseat.
-----
He bangs on the door for a full minute and he's sure Hudson's neighbors are about to call the cops when the door finally flies open and Finn steps into the hallway. "Hi. You can't stay here," is all he says as he pulls his front door closed nervously. "Girl. You know."
"Fuck that noise," Puck groans, rubbing his hand over his face, "You won't even know I'm here. Please, dude. Look, I got Draft."
He dangles the six-pack in front of Finn's face, hoping it'll sway his friend. "Bros before hoes, dude," he reminds him, putting his foot in the door's way, "Tell Little Miss not to cream herself at the sight of me and I swear, you'll still be getting all the fucking tail you were planning on getting tonight. Just not on the couch,” he adds, “’cause that's fucked."
Finn doesn't seem convinced, and actually looks a little green in the face. "Puck, just go home," he sighs. "Go apologize for whatever stupid thing you did and make up with your wife."
"Shit Hudson," Puck says worriedly, his face scrunching up. "You don't have a guy in there or something, do you?" He only meant it half-joking, but when Finn's face falls, his jaw pops open. "Dude, you're not fucking Kurt, are you? ’Cause I heard he was in town."
"No! God, no," Finn says, "It's not a guy--"
"Awesome, let's do this," Puck interrupts, reaching past Finn to put his hand on the doorknob. He pushes past the taller man easily and steps into the apartment; he eyes a hot pink thong on the floor and nods appreciatively. "Nice going, Hudson," he says as he nudges it with his toe, "She's not like, naked in the kitchen is she? ’Cause beer's getting warm, man."
Finn looks around nervously as if he's not quite sure where he left her before shaking his head No, and follows Puck into the kitchen, still glancing over his shoulder as he does so.
Puck has barely shut the fridge door (keeping one beer for himself, of course) when he hears a thump coming from Finn's room. Then two more. "You should probably get back in there, Hudson. Sounds like she's starting without you." Finn throws a panicked look at the door to his room, and Puck sighs, "Go on, I'll just crash."
"Right, right," he mumbles, "I'm just- I'm just gonna go. In there."
"Whatever man, just tell her not to scream too loud," Puck calls at Finn's retreating back as he makes his way to the couch. "And do that thing I told you!"
Finn just throws him a disgusted look as he disappears into his bedroom, and Puck cracks open a can of beer with a heavy sigh.
As he settles himself onto the couch, the first thing to cross his mind is her.
Fuck him, he's already missing the crazy bitch.
-----
He wakes up the same way he does every other morning: to shit being thrown at him while someone yells.
"Hey, fucktard," Finn says loudly, chucking Puck's boots onto his lap. "Get up. I gotta leave for work."
Puck rubs his eyes and squints at his best friend. For a second he's disoriented and then it all comes rushing back. Pissing Rachel off, crashing on Finn's couch, being kept up half the night with the seriously fucked up sounds that were coming out of the bedroom...
"Oh, Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinn," he moans girlishy. "Harder! Please!"
Finn turns a shade of red and throws a punch at his shoulder. "Yeah, well, at least I was actually getting fucked instead of hiding from my wife like a pussy," he mumbles, heading towards the front door.
"Don't flatter yourself, Hudson," Puck grumbles as he shoves his feet into his boots, "I could barely hear the chick, didn't sound like you were really putting a hurt on her."
For some reason, this makes Finn smile, and he just throws Puck a shit-eating grin as he leans against the wall. "I'll remember that you said that, Puckerman. Now get out."
"Yeah, yeah," Puck mutters walking to the door. "Some fucking friends I have. You know all this getting kicked out lately is starting to tell me something."
Finn doesn't even look away from the mirror as he straightens his tie. "What? That you're an asshole?" He turns to fill a cup of coffee and thrusts it in Puck's hands before rushing out the door. "’Cause we've been telling you that for years.”
He watches his friend barrel down the hallway and when Finn yells over his shoulder, "Make sure you close that door all the way, asshole," and throws up a middle finger at him, Puck grabs the hot pink thong off the floor and hangs it on the doorknob for his neighbours to see.
-----
He calls Finn at lunch time and with a mouth full of food asks, "Dude. Come over for dinner tonight?"
Finn sighs on his end of the line. "You still haven't made up with Rachel?"
"What? No, we're fine, we fucked soon as I got home. We're expecting people over, so figured maybe you were tired of McDonald's, you sad, pathetic bachelor."
"I can't, I got plans."
"Fine, whatever. Movies tomorrow? I wanna see that new flick and Rachel always talks through the whole fucking thing."
"Um. I have plans then, too."
Puck sighs dramatically into the phone. "That same girl? C'mon, I'm sure she can live one night without your boom stick, Hudson. Prolly has a vibrator anyways. C'mon, let's go out, get trashed, whatever. Like old times."
"Puck," he says firmly, in his MR. HUDSON teacher voice, "I can't. Another time maybe."
"Jesus fucking Christ, are you drilling for fuckin' oil?" Puck exclaims loudly. His secretary shoots him a dirty look from her desk and he raises his eyebrows at her until she turns back to her computer. If he wanted to pay someone to bust his balls about being a dick, he'd save himself the money and make Rachel come in and do it for free. He takes another bite of his burrito before continuing, "What's so special about this broad, anyway?"
"She's..." Finn starts and Puck can practically see the cartoon hearts dancing around stupid Finn's stupid fucking head. "She's special."
"Dude, get out,” he warns seriously. “Now."
Finn huffs and the sound makes Puck roll his eyes ’cause he sounds just like Rachel and he was hoping to get through 8 hours without hearing that you’re such a fucking idiot sound. "You like to act like a bad-ass, Puck, but you and I both remember how you were when you and Rachel got serious."
Puck nearly chokes on his food with a barking laugh, "Yeah and you see where that got me, right? Sleeping on your damn couch while I listen to you give it to some strange girl."
"Whatever," Finn says, and he knows he doesn't buy it, "Maybe another time, I gotta go, time for class."
-----
"Hey sexy lady," he murmurs against her hair, trailing his hands up her sides as he leans into her back. "You look fucking hot in that apron."
She leans back against his chest and let's him trail kisses down her neck but stops his hands when they starts traveling up her dress. "Your mother will be here soon," she reprimands him breathlessly.
He backs away and gives her a smack on the ass. "You made your specialty, I see," he tells her, eyeing the take-out cartons on the counter.
"Shit,” she frets, dashing to the counter to grab an armful of Styrofoam. “Help me get rid of these before your mother sees them!"
"Nope," he laughs, walking to their room and ripping his tie off. "It's about time she finds out what an awful woman she gave her baby boy away to. Can't even fucking cook for me, Berry. It's a travesty."
"Can you at least set the table?" She calls from the kitchen, scrambling to clear the counter of the debris.
"What? I can't hear you!" he calls back from their bedroom as he rolls his eyes and throws himself onto their bed. She starts to repeat herself and he cuts her off. "Still can't hear you!"
A moment later, she is standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Right as she’s about to lay into him, the doorbell rings.
He silently thanks God for his mother and pecks Rachel on the lips before heading towards the door. "I always knew that woman loved me," he calls over his shoulder, and then ducks as a shoe flies past his head
"Where's the brat?" Puck asks as his mom bustles in and kisses him on the cheek.
"She's gotta date tonight," she answers as she kisses Rachel and moves towards the kitchen, no doubt to supervise dinner.
"Over my dead body, she's got a date. Who is this guy?"
"Don't know, dear!" she calls back as she disappears into the kitchen.
Rachel takes advantage of the privacy and grabs a hold of his shirt. "Get. That. Table. Set." She whispers in a low, fierce tone before following after her mother-in-law.
He half-considers not doing it, ’cause she's always a better lay when she's pissed at him, but he's kinda hungry. So he does it.
-----
Dinner goes the same way it always does. His mom asks the stupidest questions about his job--"Are your workers happy, Noah? I heard a special on the news about happy workers"--and manages to rip Rachel's domestic abilities to shreds with barely four words.
And then the baby talk starts. "You're not getting any younger, Rachel," she says pointedly, forking the last of the tenderloin she'd just deemed too tough.
"Noah already has a lovely daughter," Rachel grits through her teeth. He considers jumping in, but fuck, it hasn't even gotten good yet.
"I know about my beautiful granddaughter," his mom volleys back all offended, as though Rachel just insulted her intelligence. "I want more."
Rachel's gripping the edge of the table and she's gearing up for her "I am not a baby-making machine!" speech (he may be kind of retarded sometimes, but he knows irony when he sees it, and it is definitely ironic that after Rachel works herself up while defending her lack of children, she deals with the frustration by fucking him into unconsciousness) but Mama P cuts her off before she gets her first word out.
"Hopefully Sarah's new fellow won't be opposed to raising a proper family."
Puck's fork clatters to his plate. "Uh, Sarah's 21, I don't think she really needs to be worrying about that shit just yet."
His mom sighs at him, "Do you really need to use that kind of language at the table, Noah?"
"She's still 21 and I'll be damned if she's going to get knocked up by some dude I've never met."
Rachel takes the opportunity to head towards the kitchen to prepare dessert (the only thing in the kitchen that she actually made herself) and he briefly notices her nostrils flaring as she attempts to walk past them without stomping.
His mother, however, doesn't notice and instead continues, "I'm not saying she should get pregnant now dear, just that apparently it's quite serious. Maybe someday."
"How serious is serious?"
His mom shrugs, sipping her coffee. "I haven’t met him--"
"And you're already trying to pawn her off on him?"
"--but she speaks very highly of him."
"What's his fucking name?"
"Noah, really, must you?"
"What's his freaking name?"
"She hasn't told me."
He nearly falls out of his chair."You're letting her go out with god knows who? Dammit, he could be anybody! He could be someone like - like," he stumbles, anxious to get to the bottom of this.
"Someone like you?" she and Rachel say at the same time, their eyes meeting over his head and smiling at each other for the first time that night.
"Ha fucking ha," he grumbles.
"If you must know, Noah," his mother says, patting his arm, "she said she wants you to know about him first."
Rachel steps in and sets the cake on the table with a smile. Conversation then turns to how dry the cake looks, and Puck plucks the knife from her hand with a nervous grin. "How about I cut the cake, babe?" he says, stepping between the two women.
-----
It takes Rachel two hours to work out all the frustration after his mom is finally gone. Not that he's complaining.
As she brushes her teeth, he lays on the bed staring at the ceiling, listening to her rant about the audacity of that woman, to mention her age and she's only 27, thank you very much and by the time she's started on her, "since when was it socially acceptable to treat your daughter-in-law like a baby factory" speech, Puck has rolled out of bed and started lacing up his boots.
"Where are you going?" she demands, toothbrush hanging from her hand.
"Finn's."
Annnnd she's off.
She's halfway into her "is it really that terrible to listen to me talk" diatribe when he kisses her forehead and tells her he loves her but he needs a few hours away from Jewish women, for the sake of his sanity.
She follows him to the front door and as he is about to grab the doorknob she cries out, "Wait! You can't go to Finn’s."
"Why?"
"Because..." she is obviously floundering for an answer, and she blurts out, "Because!"
"He's not," he starts, laughing nervously. "He's not hiding in the bushes, waiting for me to leave is he?"
Look, he knows she loves him. He does. But 12 years later and a part of him is still waiting for her to realize she bet on the wrong horse.
"Noah, don't be stupid," she murmurs softly, kissing him on the mouth. "I don't want you to go to Finn's because I want you here," she shows him by taking his hand and placing it between her legs, "with me."
Normally, he'd stay. Of course he'd fucking stay.
But ever since finding out about his little sister cavorting around town with some asshole, he's been itching to complain about it to someone would understand. Another guy.
He leans down and licks the toothpaste from the corner of her mouth and whispers, "I won't be home too late."
-----
He distinctly hears Marvin Gaye blaring through Finn's door and the sheer cheese of it makes him groan. "Hudson!" he bellows, banging on the door, "Fuck I hope you're jacking it, ’cause if you're actually getting it on to "Let's Get it On" I will chop off your balls."
The music stops and there is a beat before the door flies open and Finn is standing in front of him, shirtless and panting. "What the fuck are you doing here, man, I fucking told you--"
"Yeah, whatever, you would not believe the fucking night I'm having, dude."
Finn runs a hand over his face, groaning into his palm. "Puck, you know I love you man but shit, you gotta go. Please."
Puck sighs, rubbing his eyes. "You're right, man. Hey, I'm sorry."
"It's cool," Finn says, visibly relaxing, "Bad night. Dinner with Moms'll do that."
"No fuckin' kidding," Puck groans, stretching his arms over--"wait, who told you Ma was over?"
Finn's face turns white and Puck thinks he can hear the blood rushing through his head. He can't help it, ok? And the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, "Please tell me you're not fucking Rachel."
"No!" Finn says, "God, no, I swear, I just, I just like, talked to her and she mentioned it, or something. I don't--oh god."
Finn Hudson is a terrible liar, and Puck has learned this well. So when Finn starts stammering and turning bright red, he feels his curiosity piquing.
He has no goddamn idea what kind of freak show Finn’s got going on behind that door; all he knows is that he has to see it.
"Finn," he says, laughing, "Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Just let me take a peek and I swear I won’t say a fucking word to anybody."
"Um, no?" Finn suggests nervously, shifting his weight from side to side.
Puck sighs in defeat and throws his head back in a shrug, "Whatever, man. I don't care." He turns to walk back down the hall and hears Finn let out a long breath and turn the knob of his door.
Puck takes advantage of Finn's relief and pushes past him easily--Finn may be taller but he's always been the stronger of the two--stumbling into his living room with "HAH!"
His triumphant cry is cut short when he sees Sarah in Finn's old McKinley jersey, jumping up from the couch as she wraps a blanket around her body.
"Hi, Noah."
He stares at her wide eyed before turning to his friend in disbelief. "Does she not have pants on?" he demands, advancing on him.
"Um."
"Is that your jersey she's wearing?"
"Um, look, Puck--"
"Was she here last night?"
Finn tosses him a shy nervous smile, "Bet you're glad I didn't put the hurting on her now, huh?"
He swears he can feel a vein burst in his right temple as the reality of the situation settles on him. "Are you fucking KIDDING me?!"
"Uh," he stammers, backing away from Puck with his hands raised defensively. "It was a joke," he says weakly, "just a joke."
Finn's eyes dart to Sarah in an obvious Hey, can you save me from your criminally insane brother? Please? Maybe? look. Sarah sighs and puts her hands on her hips, "Look, Noah, you should know that Finn and I have been having sex on a regular basis for months now."
"Oh fuck," Finn whispers before Puck whirls back to look at him.
“You - you fucked my little sister with me in the next room?” he says aghast. Even he never did something so low (except for that one time he did but Randy Carlson wasn’t his best bro, was he?)
“That was my fault,” Sarah pipes up nervously, fidgeting in Finn’s jersey. “See, you were already here and I couldn’t get out so I had to stay the night and we tried to not let anything happen but,” she throws a sickeningly intimate look at Finn and goes on, “I couldn’t help myself.” She finishes with a little shrug and Puck starts feeling light-headed.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" He repeats, and she rolls her eyes.
"Oh please, Noah. It's not like he's my first."
Finn and Puck both snap their heads up to look at her. "I wasn't?" Finn says, and he actually sounds a little hurt and oh, God. He can't breathe.
“I need to fucking sit down,” he mumbles, stumbling to the couch blindly.
“Put your head between your legs!” he hears Sarah suggest, and the tap from the sink in the kitchen starting to run. “Babe, make sure he doesn’t pass out or something.”
Oh god, he’s gonna hurl.
Puck’s crouching down, his head between his knees when he feels a strong pat on his back. “Hey man, are you okay?” Finn asks worriedly.
And that’s when Puck swings his arm up as hard as he can and breaks his hand against Finn’s face.
-----
He calls Rachel from his truck, swearing under his breath as he dials her number. "Rach, need you to meet me at the hospital," he says as soon as she picks up, and he can hear her gasp.
"What happened? Are you ok?"
"I busted my hand on Hudson's face," he grumbles. He watches his sister and Finn across the street, his friend holding an ice pack to his nose as he gets into his car.
"Oh God! Is he ok?"
He pulls the phone from his ear to stare at it in disbelief for a second before yelling into it, "Are you fucking kidding me, Berry?"
She's still yapping away about poor Finn so he just growls "Get your ass to the hospital." He's about to toss his phone into the passenger seat when he notices Sarah trying to help Finn into his car, her ass sticking out in the air because she's still wearing that fucking jersey. "And bring a change of clothes," he mutters before snapping the phone shut.
Fuck his life.
-----
The drive is a fucking disaster. Finn's car seems to be doing fine (and why shouldn't it, Puck's the one who taught her how to drive) but his truck is another story. He has one good hand, and his left eye just won't stop twitching and he's pretty sure sure he just blew a red, so if he gets to the emergency room in one piece, it'll be a miracle.
He swerves into an empty parking space, and sees Finn stumble out of his car just a few spaces down. Fuck, that’s a lot of blood. He shrugs the thought away and stomps towards him. Sarah’s just getting out of the driver’s side and is about to run to Finn’s side when he pulls her back.
He takes her hand and slaps his keys into her palm. “My truck. Now,” he threatens, pointing to his pick-up.
“Excuse me?” she shrieks.
“You’re going to get into my truck, and wait for Rachel to bring you some fucking pants.”
She at least has the decency to blush when she remembers that she’s half-naked, but she still refuses to budge. “Noah, my boyfriend needs to go to the emergency room so I-”
He laughs, hard and loud. “Boyfriend?”
She straightens, and stabs her finger into his chest. "Yes," she hisses, "My boyfriend and I'd appreciate it if you didn't take that-"
She sounds so much like his wife that he groans and covers her mouth with his hand. "Just get in the fucking truck, Sarah." He sees Finn staring at them from the other side of the car and he contemplates jumping over the ugly Toyota and finishing the job when Rachel joins them, putting a hand on his elbow.
"Oh, jeez, Finn," she mutters when she sees him, "That’s a lot of blood."
"Does nobody notice my broken hand!" he snaps, waving the offending limb in Rachel's face, "My fucking wife, maybe? Holy God almighty."
"Not for anything, Noah," she says coolly, "But you did that to yourself." He throws her a look and she softens, "But it does look painful."
"Mebbe we sho geb inside," Finn mumbles from behind the hand he has cupped around his nose.
"Yeah, let's get these docs working on removing the knife from my fuckin’ back," Puck complains and he almost loses his shit again when three pairs of eyes roll simultaneously at him.
Rachel sighs. "Don't you think you're being a little--"
His look is enough to shut her up, and nobody speaks as they make their way into the ER.
-----
"Ok, so how the fuck did this start?" He finally asks after an hour of silence in the waiting room. At his outburst, Rachel removes her head from his shoulder and sighs, obviously disappointed in his lack of tact, but he couldn’t really care less at the moment.
Finn looks everywhere but him, and Sarah suddenly finds her nails incredibly interesting. Finally, Rachel scoffs, "At your birthday party I'd imagine," she says.
"You fucking knew about this?"
"It wasn’t that hard to figure out,” she shrugs defensively. “I was just waiting for you to catch up."
He glares between the three of them and then points a menacing finger at Finn. "Did you fuck her while you were planning my birthday party?" he demands, and beside him he can hear Rachel's Christ, Noah.
But he needs to know.
He ignores her protests and keeps his eyes trained on Finn, and when his friend just sighs and throws up his hands in defeat, Rachel puts her hand on his elbow to keep him from launching himself across the room.
“And why didn’t you fucking tell me?” he leaves the word traitor unspoken but narrows his eyes at her, anyway.
Finn and Sarah exchange glances and she motions to them, "They promised me they were going to tell you themselves!"
"So what, you suddenly decided to start robbing the cradle?" he asks, turning to Finn. "I don't know if you've noticed this but you're a high school teacher. Plenty of ripe tail for the pickin' if that’s what you’re into," he explains. Rachel throws him a disgusted look that he catches from the corner of his eye but right now, Finn's reaction is all that kinda matters.
Finn sighs, although it comes out more as a wheezy cough and Puck feels a temporary stab of guilt for rearranging his best friend's face like that. "Look," he starts, and Puck's already clenching his good hand, just dying to know what Finn has to fucking say for himself.
"Look," he starts again. Finn's eyes meet his and then quickly jump to Sarah before he looks back at Puck. He has a stupid grin on his face, made even more ridiculous by the blood drying around his mouth, and he, swear to god, giggles, "I love her."
Puck's scoffs and is about to explain "Yeah, I've used that one in your situation, too, Einstein," but Sarah doesn't look all that surprised or moved by the admission. Which means she either sees through the bullshit, which is possible, or he's told her this before and this is actually something. Puck’s starting to worry that the second scenario is becoming more and more likely.
There is a long, uncomfortable silence between the four of them, broken only when the nurse approaches them. "Hudson?" She calls, and Finn jumps up. He can't even bring himself to make a snotty remark when Sarah trots after them, still clutching the bloody towel.
He snorts derisively and glances at Rachel. "Can you believe that shit?" he grumbles, and she just nods her head and settles back down against him.
"I think you should give them your blessing," she says after a minute.
"You also thought you’d end up married to Hudson," he scoffs, and she just pinches his side.
She brushes her fingers lightly over his mangled knuckles and she grins at him when he bites down the flinch brought on by the pain. "Does it hurt, baby?" she asks softly and he nods, letting her kiss his cheek. This was what he fucking wanted when he asked her to meet him. Is it too much to ask for his wife to take care of him when he gets injured in battle?
"Well, get used to it," she says matter-of-factly, pulling away to lean back in her chair. He gapes at her but she just starts flipping through a magazine and says, "Because I don't think it's going to stop any time soon. So either accept the fact that they're in a responsible, healthy, adult relationship or get ready to punch Finn in the nose on a regular basis like the common thug you are."
"If my mother were here," he starts, deciding to pay his trump card, but she doesn't let him finish.
"Sweetheart," she cuts him off. "Whose idea do you think it was to make those two plan your party together?"
“Fuck, WHO DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THIS!” he bellows, ignoring the nurse who shushes him sharply.
"She knew at dinner. Didn't want to tell you before Sarah got a chance to," she says flippantly, shuffling through her magazine. Off his look, she continues, "Don't look at me that way,” she says, "I refuse to coddle you because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re sister is now an adult."
"Babe," he groans, and he attempts to grab her hand though she pulls it away, "What about all that in sickness and in health shit?"
A sharp laugh works its way from her throat, "Yeah, funny you remember that now. Seemed to have forgotten that when I had the stomach flu last month."
"That was different," and when she raises her eyebrows he continues, "’Cause that was fuckin’ gross."
Fuck. Wrong thing to say.
She turns on him, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed and he is half expecting her to launch into one of her “this is why you’re a moron" speeches and he fumbles to diffuse it.
"Look," he says, grabbing her hand with his good one and rubbing his thumb in slow circles against it, "You don't have to tell me that I'm a fucking idiot a majority of the time and that my life would probably be a million times easier if I actually listened to you instead of blocking out your voice to focus on your fantastic ass instead."
She doesn't even cut him off because she can probably tell that he's going somewhere with this. At least he hopes he is.
"But when you married me, you kinda of made the decision to stick by me, no matter what. Fucking idiot or not, I'm your husband."
She softens and squeezes his hand gently. "You're right," she says, and the words sound so foreign to his ears he almost falls off his chair. "We're family."
"Right."
"And family should stick together no matter what, right?" He nods. Finally! She gets it. "Kinda like your sister making her own decision to date Finn, right?"
Wait.
"Wait," he stumbles, "that’s not what I meant."
"Oh, that's definitely what I got from it, Noah," she says and she smiles at him so sweetly he knows that he walked right into it, but she leans against him again, pressing a kiss to his neck as she pats his hand gently. "You'll get over it, baby."
"Hmph," he chortles. "I won't have to. It's not like this is gonna last."
Authors: une_fille / unequivocally
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Puck, Finn, and the women who are RUINING HIS LIFE.
Rating: R, cause it's Puck's POV
Words: 5222
Summary: This is the kind of shit that reminds Puck why he wishes he were an only child. A spin-off to The Life and Time of Sarah Puckerman, Aged 9.
Author notes: This is all christiesk 's fault. Seriously. She made the mistake making a suggestion that was so crack!tastic and insane that we couldn't resist. This shit is like heroin to us. Feel free to blame her for this. And to everyone who loved how sweet & cute the original fic was, do yourselves a favor and don't read this lol
Also, this was supposed to be a drabble, so... yeah, we really are kinda retarded.
Sometime past 2 AM he's pretty much at his limit as far as listening to the old lady nag, so he grabs his coat and stomps out the door screaming, "Jesus Christ, Berry, you get crazier with every passing day!" over his shoulder. He slams the door closed just as she throws something at it.
He's on the phone with Finn before he's even reached his truck, and he can tell from the tone in his buddy's voice that he was most definitely NOT sleeping.
"Hey man, get the couch ready, fucking Rachel is having a shit fit again." Before Finn has a chance to answer he mutters into the phone, "Remind me why I got married, again? ’Cause for the life of me, I can't remember!"
"Um," is all he gets from the end of the line.
"Exactly!" He revvs his engine and pulls out of the driveway. "You better have some fucking food at your place, Hudson, ’cause I'm starving."
The other line starts pinging in his ear and he groans. "God almighty, she's already fucking calling. Whatever, dude. I'm turning this shit off, I'll be there in a minute." He clicks the phone shut before Finn can reply, pulling the battery out of the phone forcefully and throwing it over his shoulder into the backseat.
-----
He bangs on the door for a full minute and he's sure Hudson's neighbors are about to call the cops when the door finally flies open and Finn steps into the hallway. "Hi. You can't stay here," is all he says as he pulls his front door closed nervously. "Girl. You know."
"Fuck that noise," Puck groans, rubbing his hand over his face, "You won't even know I'm here. Please, dude. Look, I got Draft."
He dangles the six-pack in front of Finn's face, hoping it'll sway his friend. "Bros before hoes, dude," he reminds him, putting his foot in the door's way, "Tell Little Miss not to cream herself at the sight of me and I swear, you'll still be getting all the fucking tail you were planning on getting tonight. Just not on the couch,” he adds, “’cause that's fucked."
Finn doesn't seem convinced, and actually looks a little green in the face. "Puck, just go home," he sighs. "Go apologize for whatever stupid thing you did and make up with your wife."
"Shit Hudson," Puck says worriedly, his face scrunching up. "You don't have a guy in there or something, do you?" He only meant it half-joking, but when Finn's face falls, his jaw pops open. "Dude, you're not fucking Kurt, are you? ’Cause I heard he was in town."
"No! God, no," Finn says, "It's not a guy--"
"Awesome, let's do this," Puck interrupts, reaching past Finn to put his hand on the doorknob. He pushes past the taller man easily and steps into the apartment; he eyes a hot pink thong on the floor and nods appreciatively. "Nice going, Hudson," he says as he nudges it with his toe, "She's not like, naked in the kitchen is she? ’Cause beer's getting warm, man."
Finn looks around nervously as if he's not quite sure where he left her before shaking his head No, and follows Puck into the kitchen, still glancing over his shoulder as he does so.
Puck has barely shut the fridge door (keeping one beer for himself, of course) when he hears a thump coming from Finn's room. Then two more. "You should probably get back in there, Hudson. Sounds like she's starting without you." Finn throws a panicked look at the door to his room, and Puck sighs, "Go on, I'll just crash."
"Right, right," he mumbles, "I'm just- I'm just gonna go. In there."
"Whatever man, just tell her not to scream too loud," Puck calls at Finn's retreating back as he makes his way to the couch. "And do that thing I told you!"
Finn just throws him a disgusted look as he disappears into his bedroom, and Puck cracks open a can of beer with a heavy sigh.
As he settles himself onto the couch, the first thing to cross his mind is her.
Fuck him, he's already missing the crazy bitch.
-----
He wakes up the same way he does every other morning: to shit being thrown at him while someone yells.
"Hey, fucktard," Finn says loudly, chucking Puck's boots onto his lap. "Get up. I gotta leave for work."
Puck rubs his eyes and squints at his best friend. For a second he's disoriented and then it all comes rushing back. Pissing Rachel off, crashing on Finn's couch, being kept up half the night with the seriously fucked up sounds that were coming out of the bedroom...
"Oh, Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinn," he moans girlishy. "Harder! Please!"
Finn turns a shade of red and throws a punch at his shoulder. "Yeah, well, at least I was actually getting fucked instead of hiding from my wife like a pussy," he mumbles, heading towards the front door.
"Don't flatter yourself, Hudson," Puck grumbles as he shoves his feet into his boots, "I could barely hear the chick, didn't sound like you were really putting a hurt on her."
For some reason, this makes Finn smile, and he just throws Puck a shit-eating grin as he leans against the wall. "I'll remember that you said that, Puckerman. Now get out."
"Yeah, yeah," Puck mutters walking to the door. "Some fucking friends I have. You know all this getting kicked out lately is starting to tell me something."
Finn doesn't even look away from the mirror as he straightens his tie. "What? That you're an asshole?" He turns to fill a cup of coffee and thrusts it in Puck's hands before rushing out the door. "’Cause we've been telling you that for years.”
He watches his friend barrel down the hallway and when Finn yells over his shoulder, "Make sure you close that door all the way, asshole," and throws up a middle finger at him, Puck grabs the hot pink thong off the floor and hangs it on the doorknob for his neighbours to see.
-----
He calls Finn at lunch time and with a mouth full of food asks, "Dude. Come over for dinner tonight?"
Finn sighs on his end of the line. "You still haven't made up with Rachel?"
"What? No, we're fine, we fucked soon as I got home. We're expecting people over, so figured maybe you were tired of McDonald's, you sad, pathetic bachelor."
"I can't, I got plans."
"Fine, whatever. Movies tomorrow? I wanna see that new flick and Rachel always talks through the whole fucking thing."
"Um. I have plans then, too."
Puck sighs dramatically into the phone. "That same girl? C'mon, I'm sure she can live one night without your boom stick, Hudson. Prolly has a vibrator anyways. C'mon, let's go out, get trashed, whatever. Like old times."
"Puck," he says firmly, in his MR. HUDSON teacher voice, "I can't. Another time maybe."
"Jesus fucking Christ, are you drilling for fuckin' oil?" Puck exclaims loudly. His secretary shoots him a dirty look from her desk and he raises his eyebrows at her until she turns back to her computer. If he wanted to pay someone to bust his balls about being a dick, he'd save himself the money and make Rachel come in and do it for free. He takes another bite of his burrito before continuing, "What's so special about this broad, anyway?"
"She's..." Finn starts and Puck can practically see the cartoon hearts dancing around stupid Finn's stupid fucking head. "She's special."
"Dude, get out,” he warns seriously. “Now."
Finn huffs and the sound makes Puck roll his eyes ’cause he sounds just like Rachel and he was hoping to get through 8 hours without hearing that you’re such a fucking idiot sound. "You like to act like a bad-ass, Puck, but you and I both remember how you were when you and Rachel got serious."
Puck nearly chokes on his food with a barking laugh, "Yeah and you see where that got me, right? Sleeping on your damn couch while I listen to you give it to some strange girl."
"Whatever," Finn says, and he knows he doesn't buy it, "Maybe another time, I gotta go, time for class."
-----
"Hey sexy lady," he murmurs against her hair, trailing his hands up her sides as he leans into her back. "You look fucking hot in that apron."
She leans back against his chest and let's him trail kisses down her neck but stops his hands when they starts traveling up her dress. "Your mother will be here soon," she reprimands him breathlessly.
He backs away and gives her a smack on the ass. "You made your specialty, I see," he tells her, eyeing the take-out cartons on the counter.
"Shit,” she frets, dashing to the counter to grab an armful of Styrofoam. “Help me get rid of these before your mother sees them!"
"Nope," he laughs, walking to their room and ripping his tie off. "It's about time she finds out what an awful woman she gave her baby boy away to. Can't even fucking cook for me, Berry. It's a travesty."
"Can you at least set the table?" She calls from the kitchen, scrambling to clear the counter of the debris.
"What? I can't hear you!" he calls back from their bedroom as he rolls his eyes and throws himself onto their bed. She starts to repeat herself and he cuts her off. "Still can't hear you!"
A moment later, she is standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Right as she’s about to lay into him, the doorbell rings.
He silently thanks God for his mother and pecks Rachel on the lips before heading towards the door. "I always knew that woman loved me," he calls over his shoulder, and then ducks as a shoe flies past his head
"Where's the brat?" Puck asks as his mom bustles in and kisses him on the cheek.
"She's gotta date tonight," she answers as she kisses Rachel and moves towards the kitchen, no doubt to supervise dinner.
"Over my dead body, she's got a date. Who is this guy?"
"Don't know, dear!" she calls back as she disappears into the kitchen.
Rachel takes advantage of the privacy and grabs a hold of his shirt. "Get. That. Table. Set." She whispers in a low, fierce tone before following after her mother-in-law.
He half-considers not doing it, ’cause she's always a better lay when she's pissed at him, but he's kinda hungry. So he does it.
-----
Dinner goes the same way it always does. His mom asks the stupidest questions about his job--"Are your workers happy, Noah? I heard a special on the news about happy workers"--and manages to rip Rachel's domestic abilities to shreds with barely four words.
And then the baby talk starts. "You're not getting any younger, Rachel," she says pointedly, forking the last of the tenderloin she'd just deemed too tough.
"Noah already has a lovely daughter," Rachel grits through her teeth. He considers jumping in, but fuck, it hasn't even gotten good yet.
"I know about my beautiful granddaughter," his mom volleys back all offended, as though Rachel just insulted her intelligence. "I want more."
Rachel's gripping the edge of the table and she's gearing up for her "I am not a baby-making machine!" speech (he may be kind of retarded sometimes, but he knows irony when he sees it, and it is definitely ironic that after Rachel works herself up while defending her lack of children, she deals with the frustration by fucking him into unconsciousness) but Mama P cuts her off before she gets her first word out.
"Hopefully Sarah's new fellow won't be opposed to raising a proper family."
Puck's fork clatters to his plate. "Uh, Sarah's 21, I don't think she really needs to be worrying about that shit just yet."
His mom sighs at him, "Do you really need to use that kind of language at the table, Noah?"
"She's still 21 and I'll be damned if she's going to get knocked up by some dude I've never met."
Rachel takes the opportunity to head towards the kitchen to prepare dessert (the only thing in the kitchen that she actually made herself) and he briefly notices her nostrils flaring as she attempts to walk past them without stomping.
His mother, however, doesn't notice and instead continues, "I'm not saying she should get pregnant now dear, just that apparently it's quite serious. Maybe someday."
"How serious is serious?"
His mom shrugs, sipping her coffee. "I haven’t met him--"
"And you're already trying to pawn her off on him?"
"--but she speaks very highly of him."
"What's his fucking name?"
"Noah, really, must you?"
"What's his freaking name?"
"She hasn't told me."
He nearly falls out of his chair."You're letting her go out with god knows who? Dammit, he could be anybody! He could be someone like - like," he stumbles, anxious to get to the bottom of this.
"Someone like you?" she and Rachel say at the same time, their eyes meeting over his head and smiling at each other for the first time that night.
"Ha fucking ha," he grumbles.
"If you must know, Noah," his mother says, patting his arm, "she said she wants you to know about him first."
Rachel steps in and sets the cake on the table with a smile. Conversation then turns to how dry the cake looks, and Puck plucks the knife from her hand with a nervous grin. "How about I cut the cake, babe?" he says, stepping between the two women.
-----
It takes Rachel two hours to work out all the frustration after his mom is finally gone. Not that he's complaining.
As she brushes her teeth, he lays on the bed staring at the ceiling, listening to her rant about the audacity of that woman, to mention her age and she's only 27, thank you very much and by the time she's started on her, "since when was it socially acceptable to treat your daughter-in-law like a baby factory" speech, Puck has rolled out of bed and started lacing up his boots.
"Where are you going?" she demands, toothbrush hanging from her hand.
"Finn's."
Annnnd she's off.
She's halfway into her "is it really that terrible to listen to me talk" diatribe when he kisses her forehead and tells her he loves her but he needs a few hours away from Jewish women, for the sake of his sanity.
She follows him to the front door and as he is about to grab the doorknob she cries out, "Wait! You can't go to Finn’s."
"Why?"
"Because..." she is obviously floundering for an answer, and she blurts out, "Because!"
"He's not," he starts, laughing nervously. "He's not hiding in the bushes, waiting for me to leave is he?"
Look, he knows she loves him. He does. But 12 years later and a part of him is still waiting for her to realize she bet on the wrong horse.
"Noah, don't be stupid," she murmurs softly, kissing him on the mouth. "I don't want you to go to Finn's because I want you here," she shows him by taking his hand and placing it between her legs, "with me."
Normally, he'd stay. Of course he'd fucking stay.
But ever since finding out about his little sister cavorting around town with some asshole, he's been itching to complain about it to someone would understand. Another guy.
He leans down and licks the toothpaste from the corner of her mouth and whispers, "I won't be home too late."
-----
He distinctly hears Marvin Gaye blaring through Finn's door and the sheer cheese of it makes him groan. "Hudson!" he bellows, banging on the door, "Fuck I hope you're jacking it, ’cause if you're actually getting it on to "Let's Get it On" I will chop off your balls."
The music stops and there is a beat before the door flies open and Finn is standing in front of him, shirtless and panting. "What the fuck are you doing here, man, I fucking told you--"
"Yeah, whatever, you would not believe the fucking night I'm having, dude."
Finn runs a hand over his face, groaning into his palm. "Puck, you know I love you man but shit, you gotta go. Please."
Puck sighs, rubbing his eyes. "You're right, man. Hey, I'm sorry."
"It's cool," Finn says, visibly relaxing, "Bad night. Dinner with Moms'll do that."
"No fuckin' kidding," Puck groans, stretching his arms over--"wait, who told you Ma was over?"
Finn's face turns white and Puck thinks he can hear the blood rushing through his head. He can't help it, ok? And the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, "Please tell me you're not fucking Rachel."
"No!" Finn says, "God, no, I swear, I just, I just like, talked to her and she mentioned it, or something. I don't--oh god."
Finn Hudson is a terrible liar, and Puck has learned this well. So when Finn starts stammering and turning bright red, he feels his curiosity piquing.
He has no goddamn idea what kind of freak show Finn’s got going on behind that door; all he knows is that he has to see it.
"Finn," he says, laughing, "Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Just let me take a peek and I swear I won’t say a fucking word to anybody."
"Um, no?" Finn suggests nervously, shifting his weight from side to side.
Puck sighs in defeat and throws his head back in a shrug, "Whatever, man. I don't care." He turns to walk back down the hall and hears Finn let out a long breath and turn the knob of his door.
Puck takes advantage of Finn's relief and pushes past him easily--Finn may be taller but he's always been the stronger of the two--stumbling into his living room with "HAH!"
His triumphant cry is cut short when he sees Sarah in Finn's old McKinley jersey, jumping up from the couch as she wraps a blanket around her body.
"Hi, Noah."
He stares at her wide eyed before turning to his friend in disbelief. "Does she not have pants on?" he demands, advancing on him.
"Um."
"Is that your jersey she's wearing?"
"Um, look, Puck--"
"Was she here last night?"
Finn tosses him a shy nervous smile, "Bet you're glad I didn't put the hurting on her now, huh?"
He swears he can feel a vein burst in his right temple as the reality of the situation settles on him. "Are you fucking KIDDING me?!"
"Uh," he stammers, backing away from Puck with his hands raised defensively. "It was a joke," he says weakly, "just a joke."
Finn's eyes dart to Sarah in an obvious Hey, can you save me from your criminally insane brother? Please? Maybe? look. Sarah sighs and puts her hands on her hips, "Look, Noah, you should know that Finn and I have been having sex on a regular basis for months now."
"Oh fuck," Finn whispers before Puck whirls back to look at him.
“You - you fucked my little sister with me in the next room?” he says aghast. Even he never did something so low (except for that one time he did but Randy Carlson wasn’t his best bro, was he?)
“That was my fault,” Sarah pipes up nervously, fidgeting in Finn’s jersey. “See, you were already here and I couldn’t get out so I had to stay the night and we tried to not let anything happen but,” she throws a sickeningly intimate look at Finn and goes on, “I couldn’t help myself.” She finishes with a little shrug and Puck starts feeling light-headed.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" He repeats, and she rolls her eyes.
"Oh please, Noah. It's not like he's my first."
Finn and Puck both snap their heads up to look at her. "I wasn't?" Finn says, and he actually sounds a little hurt and oh, God. He can't breathe.
“I need to fucking sit down,” he mumbles, stumbling to the couch blindly.
“Put your head between your legs!” he hears Sarah suggest, and the tap from the sink in the kitchen starting to run. “Babe, make sure he doesn’t pass out or something.”
Oh god, he’s gonna hurl.
Puck’s crouching down, his head between his knees when he feels a strong pat on his back. “Hey man, are you okay?” Finn asks worriedly.
And that’s when Puck swings his arm up as hard as he can and breaks his hand against Finn’s face.
-----
He calls Rachel from his truck, swearing under his breath as he dials her number. "Rach, need you to meet me at the hospital," he says as soon as she picks up, and he can hear her gasp.
"What happened? Are you ok?"
"I busted my hand on Hudson's face," he grumbles. He watches his sister and Finn across the street, his friend holding an ice pack to his nose as he gets into his car.
"Oh God! Is he ok?"
He pulls the phone from his ear to stare at it in disbelief for a second before yelling into it, "Are you fucking kidding me, Berry?"
She's still yapping away about poor Finn so he just growls "Get your ass to the hospital." He's about to toss his phone into the passenger seat when he notices Sarah trying to help Finn into his car, her ass sticking out in the air because she's still wearing that fucking jersey. "And bring a change of clothes," he mutters before snapping the phone shut.
Fuck his life.
-----
The drive is a fucking disaster. Finn's car seems to be doing fine (and why shouldn't it, Puck's the one who taught her how to drive) but his truck is another story. He has one good hand, and his left eye just won't stop twitching and he's pretty sure sure he just blew a red, so if he gets to the emergency room in one piece, it'll be a miracle.
He swerves into an empty parking space, and sees Finn stumble out of his car just a few spaces down. Fuck, that’s a lot of blood. He shrugs the thought away and stomps towards him. Sarah’s just getting out of the driver’s side and is about to run to Finn’s side when he pulls her back.
He takes her hand and slaps his keys into her palm. “My truck. Now,” he threatens, pointing to his pick-up.
“Excuse me?” she shrieks.
“You’re going to get into my truck, and wait for Rachel to bring you some fucking pants.”
She at least has the decency to blush when she remembers that she’s half-naked, but she still refuses to budge. “Noah, my boyfriend needs to go to the emergency room so I-”
He laughs, hard and loud. “Boyfriend?”
She straightens, and stabs her finger into his chest. "Yes," she hisses, "My boyfriend and I'd appreciate it if you didn't take that-"
She sounds so much like his wife that he groans and covers her mouth with his hand. "Just get in the fucking truck, Sarah." He sees Finn staring at them from the other side of the car and he contemplates jumping over the ugly Toyota and finishing the job when Rachel joins them, putting a hand on his elbow.
"Oh, jeez, Finn," she mutters when she sees him, "That’s a lot of blood."
"Does nobody notice my broken hand!" he snaps, waving the offending limb in Rachel's face, "My fucking wife, maybe? Holy God almighty."
"Not for anything, Noah," she says coolly, "But you did that to yourself." He throws her a look and she softens, "But it does look painful."
"Mebbe we sho geb inside," Finn mumbles from behind the hand he has cupped around his nose.
"Yeah, let's get these docs working on removing the knife from my fuckin’ back," Puck complains and he almost loses his shit again when three pairs of eyes roll simultaneously at him.
Rachel sighs. "Don't you think you're being a little--"
His look is enough to shut her up, and nobody speaks as they make their way into the ER.
-----
"Ok, so how the fuck did this start?" He finally asks after an hour of silence in the waiting room. At his outburst, Rachel removes her head from his shoulder and sighs, obviously disappointed in his lack of tact, but he couldn’t really care less at the moment.
Finn looks everywhere but him, and Sarah suddenly finds her nails incredibly interesting. Finally, Rachel scoffs, "At your birthday party I'd imagine," she says.
"You fucking knew about this?"
"It wasn’t that hard to figure out,” she shrugs defensively. “I was just waiting for you to catch up."
He glares between the three of them and then points a menacing finger at Finn. "Did you fuck her while you were planning my birthday party?" he demands, and beside him he can hear Rachel's Christ, Noah.
But he needs to know.
He ignores her protests and keeps his eyes trained on Finn, and when his friend just sighs and throws up his hands in defeat, Rachel puts her hand on his elbow to keep him from launching himself across the room.
“And why didn’t you fucking tell me?” he leaves the word traitor unspoken but narrows his eyes at her, anyway.
Finn and Sarah exchange glances and she motions to them, "They promised me they were going to tell you themselves!"
"So what, you suddenly decided to start robbing the cradle?" he asks, turning to Finn. "I don't know if you've noticed this but you're a high school teacher. Plenty of ripe tail for the pickin' if that’s what you’re into," he explains. Rachel throws him a disgusted look that he catches from the corner of his eye but right now, Finn's reaction is all that kinda matters.
Finn sighs, although it comes out more as a wheezy cough and Puck feels a temporary stab of guilt for rearranging his best friend's face like that. "Look," he starts, and Puck's already clenching his good hand, just dying to know what Finn has to fucking say for himself.
"Look," he starts again. Finn's eyes meet his and then quickly jump to Sarah before he looks back at Puck. He has a stupid grin on his face, made even more ridiculous by the blood drying around his mouth, and he, swear to god, giggles, "I love her."
Puck's scoffs and is about to explain "Yeah, I've used that one in your situation, too, Einstein," but Sarah doesn't look all that surprised or moved by the admission. Which means she either sees through the bullshit, which is possible, or he's told her this before and this is actually something. Puck’s starting to worry that the second scenario is becoming more and more likely.
There is a long, uncomfortable silence between the four of them, broken only when the nurse approaches them. "Hudson?" She calls, and Finn jumps up. He can't even bring himself to make a snotty remark when Sarah trots after them, still clutching the bloody towel.
He snorts derisively and glances at Rachel. "Can you believe that shit?" he grumbles, and she just nods her head and settles back down against him.
"I think you should give them your blessing," she says after a minute.
"You also thought you’d end up married to Hudson," he scoffs, and she just pinches his side.
She brushes her fingers lightly over his mangled knuckles and she grins at him when he bites down the flinch brought on by the pain. "Does it hurt, baby?" she asks softly and he nods, letting her kiss his cheek. This was what he fucking wanted when he asked her to meet him. Is it too much to ask for his wife to take care of him when he gets injured in battle?
"Well, get used to it," she says matter-of-factly, pulling away to lean back in her chair. He gapes at her but she just starts flipping through a magazine and says, "Because I don't think it's going to stop any time soon. So either accept the fact that they're in a responsible, healthy, adult relationship or get ready to punch Finn in the nose on a regular basis like the common thug you are."
"If my mother were here," he starts, deciding to pay his trump card, but she doesn't let him finish.
"Sweetheart," she cuts him off. "Whose idea do you think it was to make those two plan your party together?"
“Fuck, WHO DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THIS!” he bellows, ignoring the nurse who shushes him sharply.
"She knew at dinner. Didn't want to tell you before Sarah got a chance to," she says flippantly, shuffling through her magazine. Off his look, she continues, "Don't look at me that way,” she says, "I refuse to coddle you because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re sister is now an adult."
"Babe," he groans, and he attempts to grab her hand though she pulls it away, "What about all that in sickness and in health shit?"
A sharp laugh works its way from her throat, "Yeah, funny you remember that now. Seemed to have forgotten that when I had the stomach flu last month."
"That was different," and when she raises her eyebrows he continues, "’Cause that was fuckin’ gross."
Fuck. Wrong thing to say.
She turns on him, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed and he is half expecting her to launch into one of her “this is why you’re a moron" speeches and he fumbles to diffuse it.
"Look," he says, grabbing her hand with his good one and rubbing his thumb in slow circles against it, "You don't have to tell me that I'm a fucking idiot a majority of the time and that my life would probably be a million times easier if I actually listened to you instead of blocking out your voice to focus on your fantastic ass instead."
She doesn't even cut him off because she can probably tell that he's going somewhere with this. At least he hopes he is.
"But when you married me, you kinda of made the decision to stick by me, no matter what. Fucking idiot or not, I'm your husband."
She softens and squeezes his hand gently. "You're right," she says, and the words sound so foreign to his ears he almost falls off his chair. "We're family."
"Right."
"And family should stick together no matter what, right?" He nods. Finally! She gets it. "Kinda like your sister making her own decision to date Finn, right?"
Wait.
"Wait," he stumbles, "that’s not what I meant."
"Oh, that's definitely what I got from it, Noah," she says and she smiles at him so sweetly he knows that he walked right into it, but she leans against him again, pressing a kiss to his neck as she pats his hand gently. "You'll get over it, baby."
"Hmph," he chortles. "I won't have to. It's not like this is gonna last."