Puck ended up spending most of the weekend at Kurt’s.
Well, all of the weekend, actually. He called in to pick up some clean clothes but being around his mom made him itchy so he’d booked out of the house as quick as he could.
She wasn’t doing anything more than her usual mix of fussing and nagging but ripping the scab off all those festering emotions on Friday night had left Puck feeling kind of raw and thin-skinned. Like he needed to wait till he’d grown some more layers back before he was safe to be around other people.
He loved his mom like crazy, even if she drove him crazy at times, but he still had the echoes of all those secrets he’d spilled hovering on his tongue and when his Ma frowned at him and started in with her ‘What’s the matter, Noah? I can tell when something’s up with you’ it would have been all too easy to let them loose again. Ask her why, then: ‘why haven’t you seen it before?’
‘Why didn’t you see it then?’
He didn’t want to do that to her. And he was clear headed enough now to realise he might end up doing it anyway, so he just mumbled something about ‘Nothing much. School’ and left before his throat got too tight. Kurt’s house was easier to breathe in at the moment.
It was quieter too. Kurt’s dad and Finn’s mom were away on a trip somewhere so there wasn’t any adult presence peering over their shoulders or saying not to put feet on the coffee table when they were watching movies in the lounge or how they should be eating something healthier than pizza when they did. They didn’t need adults for that, of course, because Kurt did it for them instead. (“The domesticated, lesser-pepperonied pizza isn’t generally known for its high vitamin content, you two. At least have a bit of salad with it” “Its got onion, tomato and olives on it. Those are salad ingredients” “Not when they’re swimming in cheese grease they aren’t!” “Whatever, Princess”)
It wasn’t that much quieter, of course. Not with three teenage boys who wanted to play video games and watch movies and sports and listen to music – often all at the same time. But no-one was fussing or pestering him. Kurt must have had a word with Finn on Saturday morning before Puck got up because other than one awkward, anxious look over breakfast his friend hadn’t bugged him about what had gone down between him and Kurt and seemed content to accept the fact that Kurt had forgiven him for whatever it was.
There was no-one asking him about his feelings or harassing him to share them so he could do the usual man thing and go back to trying to ignore the fact he had any at all. Get away from Noah the scared little boy and back to being Puck. Relax back into his skin again.
* * *
If he could have gotten Kurt to be relaxed around Puck’s skin the weekend would have been better though.
He wasn’t doing anything obvious. He wasn’t like, avoiding Puck or flinching away from him or anything. He was still happy to kiss Puck lightly and cuddle with him on the sofa when they were watching movies and he slept wrapped around Puck during the night but there was something off and any move toward something more physical than a hug was subtly manoeuvred around and deflected. And Puck had to be honest that for half the weekend he hadn’t minded or even noticed, given that – though he hated to admit it – his emotions had still been churning a little inside, sorting themselves out, and he hadn’t really been feeling his sexy, Puckzilla self on Saturday.
But Sunday morning he’d woken up feeling lighter, more settled. Still like bits of his brain had been taken up, but like they’d been given a good clean and dust and then put back in a neater place.
He’d also woken up with a raging case of morning wood and no boyfriend in the bed to help him out with it. And the lack of suckage kind of sucked.
He tried to wait a while, just rubbing his dick lightly, to see if Kurt had just gone upstairs and might be coming back down to get back in bed with him. But his dick wasn’t very pleased at being told to ‘wait’ at that time of day – Puck was too used to rubbing a quick one out as part of his normal morning routine, like brushing his teeth – and after another fifteen minutes and no sign of Kurt he’d huffed slightly grumpily and gone off to re-introduce himself to his right hand in the shower.
When he finally went upstairs himself Finn was there in the kitchen with Kurt even though his bro was fine with the whole ‘dating his kind-of-little brother’ thing Puck couldn’t really complain out loud about not getting a wake up blowjob so all he could do was send Kurt a pouty ‘had to take care of myself’ look when Finn had his head down inhaling the French toast Kurt had made for them all.
A look Kurt completely ignored. Or maybe he didn’t see it – he was concentrating on the toast as well. It was very good and Puck had noticed before that for a skinny guy Kurt could put away an amazing amount of food.
Puck decided that must be it and tucked into his own serving, and the second helpings that Kurt made as well, and he had a half formed plan in his head about suggesting he and Kurt could go back downstairs for some ‘music practice’ or something, but then Finn had mentioned the Xbox and Kurt had made a smirking remark about how he – the gay kicker – had ‘owned both of their asses at ‘Madden’ the last time they’d played’ and, despite the odd shiver that phrasing gave him, Puck couldn’t let that stand and neither could Finn so they’d ended up sprawled out in the lounge until well after lunch, screaming at the tv and trying to put each other off with smack talk that would have made a whore blush.
Kurt ended up handing both of them their asses again, in the end.
And then (Puck wasn’t quite sure how it happened, whether it was Finn or Kurt that suggested it) for some reason Rachel got invited over and although he’d tensed a bit when she’d arrived – anticipating getting bawled out about the shit-storm on Friday – after Kurt whisked her away into the kitchen for ‘dinner preparations, you boys aren’t required. Play a round of Tekken and try to find your balls again’ he’d obviously had a word with her or something because she was perfectly normal and friendly with him when they finally came back through. She didn’t even give him the horrible ‘sympathy eyes’ that he’d been half afraid of, so Kurt must have bullshitted and side-tracked her really well.
It ended up being a nice afternoon and evening, with all of them having fun watching cheesy, silly crap on SyFy while Kurt and Rachel occasionally popped in and out of the kitchen doing cooking type things and then they watched ‘Casino Royale’ (which Finn and Puck liked because, dude, guns and explosions and shit! And Kurt and Rachel liked because they could drool over that Craig guy) while eating home-made burgers and a truly random selection of side dishes. Rachel’s tzimmes was actually better than Puck’s mom’s; which he was never, ever mentioning to either of them.
And then they watched some Japanese film that Kurt was raving about which, despite the fact that it had fucking subtitles AND musical numbers was also weirdly funny and ended up having zombies in it, which Puck liked. Zombies were always good.
Just as the end-titles were rolling Mr Hummel and Finn’s mom had pulled up in the drive and although Kurt’s dad had thrown Puck a couple of suspicious, narrow-eyed looks there hadn’t been any comment about him being there. But the lateness of the hour and the fact they all had school in the morning was soon being hinted at strongly, and before he knew it Puck was accepting a rather forceful offer of a lift home from Mr Hummel and he and Rachel were being driven away to be dropped off without him getting more than a chaste kiss goodnight from Kurt.
It was a bit frustrating not to have been able to touch his boyfriend much during the day (the phrase ‘re-connect’ flitted through his head and Puck swore and promised himself to stop reading his mom’s Cosmo’s when he was on the john), and Puck had to jerk another one out before he could get to sleep but he’d gotten a simple ‘missing u xx’ text from Kurt just as he was turning off the light and he told himself as he drifted off that everything was sorted now.
Kurt had forgiven him and everything was ok and that uneasy little niggle in the back of his mind about Kurt not taking the opportunity to get close to him could just go suck it.
* * *
And then it was Monday morning and they were back at school, and over the next couple of days that niggle grew in size till it was a fully fledged fucking problem as it slowly crept up on Puck that this was a case of : ‘Another week. Same fucked up shit’
Because Kurt was definitely avoiding him.
Not in any obvious way, Not anything that Puck could call him out on. And that same Monday had been mostly taken up with Kurt running interference for him with all the rest of their friends so Puck couldn’t really complain about that.
Not when it was obvious that Kurt had said something to Mercedes and Quinn that meant that Puck wasn’t getting the third fucking degree from them and their acceptance of him was rippling out to the rest of their friends and that that, along with Finn and Rachel being ok with him again and Santana looking like she’d happily knife and then skin anyone who looked at him wrong, meant he wasn’t being treated like a pariah any more.
(And yes, he does know what that fucking means, thank you. He wasn’t fucking stupid)
But not getting looked at like he was an outsider was poor fucking reward when Kurt was hardly looking at him at all.
And when he only gave Puck a squeeze of his hand and a peck on the cheek at lunch and otherwise didn’t touch him at all. And when, after school ends and Puck’s gone home (because he needs to catch up with his sister and reassure his mom he’s still alive) his texts to Kurt aren’t answered immediately but only after a half hour wait between each, and he damn well knows Kurt keeps his iPhone on him like the freaking thing’s surgically attached.
Even the phone call he’d made that same evening there’d been something off. Kurt had been affection and seemed pleased to speak to him, but he sounded distracted and he cut the call after twenty minutes, claiming his dad was calling him. Maybe Puck was getting deaf in his old teenage, but he hadn’t been able to hear Burt at his end of the line.
Then on Tuesday he’d seen even less of Kurt, because they didn’t have Glee and they didn’t have any classes together, and when Puck had tracked him down at lunch break (and ok, maybe ‘track’ is the wrong word when Puck had cut his own second period class to wait outside Kurt’s art class and grab him when the bell went. ‘Stalk’ would probably be a better one) and tried to persuade him to spend some time with him in an empty classroom or a closet Kurt had given him a couple of warm, open-mouthed kisses but then said ‘Sorry, Noah – I’d love to but I’ve got to look up some details for a project that I’m hoping to start tomorrow’.
And Puck had thought Kurt did sound honestly regretful but that still left Puck… unsatisfied, and when he asked ‘Tonight then?’ and an odd look had crossed Kurt’s face before he’d grimaced and replied ‘Can’t do that either – sorry! I’ve got to help my dad out at the garage with something and I don’t think we’re going to be back till late’… Well, that kind of left Puck feeling like he was sorry he’d gone cold turkey on the whole ‘being an asshole’ thing because randomly punching someone would feel really good right now.
He spots Kurt’s car swinging back into the lot at the end of lunch from where he’s sat on the bleachers trying to convince himself he’s feeling calm and reasonable enough to go back to classes, so Kurt’s project research obviously took him off campus for lunch. And it’s weird, but for a moment Puck could have sworn he saw Santana ducking out of the passenger seat. But there’s no way those two would willingly do schoolwork together – they’re not at each others throats all the time but Puck’s pretty sure the only reason they haven’t organised a cage match between themselves for the title of ‘Head Bitch In Charge’ is because they think it would upset Puck.
Puck does go to his classes but he sits there glowering like he’s been set at low simmer and his neighbours start edging their desks away from him. Then when he gets home he snaps at his Ma and snarls viciously enough at Sara that she runs off to her room, which makes him feel so disgusted with himself that he goes back out to school and runs around the track field for hours until it’s getting dark and his legs are shaking and he has to bend over when he stops and breath deeply so he won’t throw up.
When he gets back his Ma accepts his apology so quickly and with such worried eyes that he feels even worse, and looking in at Sara’s door and seeing tearstains on her sleeping face is the final shit-covered cherry on top of the self-hatred ‘I’m a bastard’ cake he’s baking for himself.
He whispers from the doorway “I’m sorry, Sara. Don’t worry, metukah, things will be better in the morning” but he’s pretty sure he’s lying.
* * *
Puck’s first lesson on Wednesdays is Chemistry and he lab-partners with Finn; which doesn’t pull up either of their grades but it means Finn can usually distract Puck when he’s tempted to jerry-rig the Bunsen burners into mini flamethrowers and Puck can stop Finn pouring acid onto himself because he’s still half asleep. The boy’s not at his best first thing.
But that’s good today. That means that when Puck casually mentions Kurt being out late the night before helping Burt he gets a tired frowny face and a blank ‘But Burt was in last night…’ before his friend’s brain wakes up enough to understand what he’s just said.
When he does he quickly adds, all flustered ‘Or, or, or – maybe that was another night? Yes, that’s right. Kurt was out with his dad last night’ but Finn’s always had a heart that’s as big as an Ohio corn field and a face that’s just as open. The guy couldn’t lie convincingly to a toddler if he had to. Also, the way that Finn stresses the ‘dad’ part of his babble (and repeats that bit. Twice) lets Puck knows that while Kurt wasn’t out with his dad last night he definitely was out somewhere. And Puck would really like to know where.
And he wasn’t leaving this to fester. Wasn’t having it, couldn’t handle it again right on the heels of last week. So when the bell goes for the end of lesson he’s out of his seat and out of the door before Finn can even blink, stalking through the corridors to get to the other side of the school and catch Kurt as he gets out of his class.
He’s got a weird, jumpy feeling right where his stomach meets his chest and a strange, metallic taste in his mouth like he just licked a battery and he’s not sure what look he has on his face – oddly enough he thinks he’s actually smiling – but whatever it is it has kids breaking and scattering out of his way like a shoal of fish fleeing a shark.
Kurt’s easy enough to spot in the class of kids spilling out into the corridor, even from behind. No one else at McKinley’s going to be wearing boots that end above the knee and a second-skin sweater that comes down far enough to meet them, and Puck can recognise that ass at a hundred yards anyway, so he smoothly moves up behind him and slings an arm over Kurt’s shoulder, saying “Hey there, babe – come with me a second” in a low voice and cutting him out from the herd and steering him down the right hand corridor without missing a step.
Kurt squeaked and nearly dropped his books in surprise, then thwapped Puck on the chest with the back of his hand. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, you ass! And I don’t have time to chat right now, Noah – I’ve got to get to history”
Puck carried on marching Kurt toward his planned destination and said a friendly manner through his teeth “Why don’t you cut and hang out with me instead?” He opens the door to the choir room, which he knew would be empty this period, and dragged Kurt in, closing the door with a bit of a bang behind them. He gives Kurt a tight smile when he turns round and adds “We can make out”
Kurt looks exasperated and says “I can’t cut class today! Mr Norton’s giving us a pop quiz and he’ll be pissed if I don’t show”. He goes to leave but Puck moves between him and the door, which made Kurt look surprised and then put a hand on one hip and say, annoyed “Noah…”
“Cut and make out with me”
“I’ve just told you! I have history and-“
Puck cuts Kurt off. “I don’t care”
And he doesn’t. Doesn’t care and a small part of him doesn’t even believe Kurt about the test, because Kurt’s almost but not quite meeting his eyes – his keep darting over Puck’s shoulder to the door instead – and when Puck takes a step forward Kurt moves one back and that’s really about it. Puck’s not even trying to smile anymore. “Why won’t you make out with me?”
But Puck won’t let Kurt finish, because he’s got more questions “Really, why? And why have you been avoiding me? And why won’t you touch me for longer than five damn seconds, huh?”
Kurt flushed guiltily and Puck tried to swallow past the lump that had turned back up in his throat all of a sudden. Kurt glanced up at his face and stepped forward at last, put a hand out toward Puck’s arm but then hesitated – hand just hanging there, looking uncertain and like he thought Puck was going to bolt or something and that. Was. IT!
“I’m not a fucking chick, ok!!”
It came out in a shout and Puck found he was breathing almost as hard as he had after his run last night; his hands tight fists by his side.
“I’m not some delicate fucking flower and I don’t need handling with kid gloves. I’m not broken, Kurt” he spat that out “But if that’s it, if you…” that lump in his throat was getting hard to talk past now, scraping and roughening his voice as he forced it out, stumbling slightly over the words “If you d-don’t want to touch me anymore, if you think I’m dirty now or, or not good enough for you or something then fuck you, you bastard! You should just fucking say so! Go on – say it! Say I’m not perfect like you. Say I’m too soiled for you to put your hands on!”
Kurt’s flush had started to ebb away and by the end of Puck’s speech he was nearly chalk white. He just stood there gaping at Puck, completely frozen and all of a sudden Puck just lost all his energy. He squeezed his eyes shut and shocked himself by how tired and beat down he sounded when he spoke again “And you’d be right, so… Just tell me, Kurt. Just say it. And I can go away and I won’t bother you again”
He still hadn’t opened his eyes. So he jumped with shock when a hard body hit him, sending them both crashing back into the wall. Kurt’s arms were like a vice around him – crushing him so close Puck’s ribs actually hurt – and his voice was a panicked babble by Puck’s ear. “Ohmygod, I’m sorry, Noah! I’m sorry – I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t think and I wasn’t, I wasn’t avoiding you or anything! Well, I was – but not for the reason you thought!”
He pulled back and grabbed onto Puck’s arms, face still very white but his eyes blazing out like blue fire. Puck’s guns were going to have fingertip shaped bruises on them, he could tell. “And don’t you ever talk about yourself like that again! Like you’re worth less than me or, or like there’s something wrong with you! Don’t you ever. You’re beautiful and amazing and I’m lucky to be going out with you and I want to touch you all the time, so just don’t!”
And then he both underlined and undermined his point in the best possible way for Puck by hissing “My god, you’re a moron!” and grabbing hold of the back of Puck’s neck and pulling him down for a harsh, bruising kiss.
That led to more: frantic kisses tinged with desperation on both sides, and grabbing, scrabbling hands – both of them needing to touch as much of the other as they could; Puck almost lifting Kurt off the ground by being so fervent about pulling him closer. His ears were ringing and all he could hear was the rush of his own breath, the rapid thrum of his pulse.
Then Kurt gave an odd, hiccupping sob into Puck’s mouth that brought him back to himself a little and he gradually realised that Kurt was murmuring ‘Noah, Noah, Noah’ over and over again when he could, when Puck left his mouth for long enough to let him, and he was running his hands up and down Puck’s back like he was trying to sooth him.
Puck forced himself to slow down and gentle his hands and his mouth, even though he didn’t want to, even though he wanted to crawl in as close as he could get to Kurt and never stop touching him. But he slowed it down, let his kisses soften, let himself loosen up and let Kurt relax against him.
Because it was ok. He still wasn’t sure what had been going on and they were going to have to fucking talk about it again, damn it, but it was ok. Kurt had called him a moron and he was touching Puck again and it was going to be ok.
* * *
It still took him several more minutes to calm down properly but he did in the end and eventually they ended up moving over to sit down on the risers. Just being quiet for a moment or two, with Kurt cuddled up close between Puck’s legs and held tight and warm in his arms.
Puck pressed his face into Kurt’s neck and took one deep breath more of the clean, spicy scent of his cologne and then pulled back to give them both a bit of space. He met Kurt’s searching look and gave him a small but genuine smile which grew into something bigger and more relaxed at the look of fierce relief that washed over Kurt’s face.
Ok, talking time again, he supposed. Time to face the music and see if he could hold the tune this time. He asked softly “So… why were you avoiding me then? And where were you last night? ‘Cos Finn made it perfectly clear you weren’t with your dad”
All of a sudden Kurt looked shifty. Shifty and a little embarrassed. His cheeks pinked up a bit again and he cleared his throat “Well. Um. I was… sort of planning something? And I knew I had to go out of town to buy some… stuff for the plan and I was going to – well, let you know about the plan tonight and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret from you if I saw you before then so…”
Puck cut into what was beginning to be a babble. “So you avoided me”
Kurt nodded miserably “Yes. I’m sorry. Although I feel I should point out that I did actually have a pop quiz today”
Puck said ‘sorry’ absently but now he was puzzling curiously over something. “Why didn’t you think you could keep it secret?”
Kurt went even redder and he said in a slightly strangled voice “Because when it comes to this sort of thing I knew you’d ferret it out in five seconds. It’s like your superpower”
Puck thought. Puckzilla superpower. Well, that could only be… “It’s about sex, isn’t it?”
“See folks!” Kurt swept a hand up and down like he was presenting Puck to an invisible audience “And that wasn’t even five seconds!”
Puck let a slow, wicked grin build up on his face. What was Kurt planning then? And what had he been buying? Puck asked him. “So what was it you were buying that you had to go out of town for? And what’s this plan that’s got you turning red as a tomato?” he leaned in and breathed into Kurt’s ear “Is it dirty? Tell me its diiiirty…”
Kurt whacked him on the arm and said “Ass!” and he was so incredibly red now that Puck had to grab another kiss because it was so cute when Kurt got embarrassed. That led to them getting distracted for a few more minutes until Puck reluctantly pulled away and then scooted down and re-arranged them so that Kurt was snuggled back against his chest. Maybe if he didn’t have to watch Puck leer at him Kurt would be able to explain (possibly Puck could just not leer but, yeah – not gonna happen in this lifetime).
“So. Your plan?”
“You’re sure you can’t just wait and I’ll tell you tonight…?”
The way Kurt trailed off acknowledged what a faint hope that was so Puck just gave him a squeeze and said “Give”
He felt Kurt’s ribs expand as he took a long, deep breath and noticed his boyfriend’s voice was even higher than usual when he spoke. “Ok. Well. Um.” Another deep breath and then Kurt said, stammering a bit “Well, I thought about what, er, what started off the argument last week? And, and I thought about it and decided that if… if you’re going to bottom for the first time then I should be a responsible top and make sure you’re comfortable with it and that you have the best first time possible. I really, really want that for you, Noah.”
And ok – that? Puck hadn’t been expecting that and his arms loosened a little around Kurt from shock. But Kurt wasn’t anywhere near finished.
“So I did some research online into, ah, into how to do that and, um, some… other research and I went on out to Van Buen because there’s a large store there that’s part of a chain that sells, um… stuff that there’s no way I was ordering online and having delivered to the house, or showing up on my credit card statement for that matter, and I got some books and, and somelubeandsomecondomsandsometoys”
Puck blinked as he worked that last, rushed piece of gobbledygook out.
…ok then. Well. That was… interesting. And… toys? Puck gulped. He was not made at all nervous by that.
“Well that sounds… like an interesting plan” His voice was completely casual. Not worried at all. No problem. “Err. Where did you hear about this place?”
Kurt had relaxed a bit now that he’d got his secret out and settled back onto Puck more comfortably. He answered blithely “Oh, I took Santana to lunch on Monday because she’s the most, um, experienced person I know apart from you and she gave me some advice and she told me about this ‘Lion’s Den’ place. She was really helpful actually – I was surprised”
Oh shit. If Kurt had got advice on his plan from Santana then screw what he’d said earlier – Puck was now officially very nervous!
* * *
It didn’t calm Puck’s nerves any that he couldn’t get any more details of ‘the plan’ out of Kurt, or get even a hint of what exactly he’d been talking to Santana about.
His boyfriend had been perfectly happy to spend the rest of the time till lunch making out in the choir room but had dug his heels in and shown his mule tendencies when Puck kept trying to tease information out of him.
And when Puck cornered Santana between classes in the afternoon all she’d said was “Just wait, Puck. Don’t you like surprises?”
But she’d said it so falsely sweet, and with such a look of evil glee in her eye that Puck ended up more worried than ever.
Kurt explained later that evening (after they’d gone back to Puck’s house to ‘do their homework together’ – which meant make out on Puck’s bed and do a little light grinding) that he hadn’t finished putting the finer details together yet and that ‘Details are what make the difference between couture and off the rack, Noah, and do you really expect me to release anything in a less than designer manner?’
Puck would have told him that he’d be happy with just a ‘slightly higher end retail’ experience but then Kurt had shut him up by shoving his hand down Puck’s jeans.
What the hell. Puck would put up and shut up if it made Kurt happy. And kept him doing that amazing twisty thing he did with his fingers just under the head of Puck’s dick.
He didn’t get to see Kurt the next night because Puck tried to take his sister to her soccer practice Thursday nights if he could. (Shut up. Cheering on the touchline while a bunch of 10 year old girls ran about does not make him any less of a badass. Sara is an awesome left winger, ok?) But he did get to make out with him during lunch – to much rolling of eyes from Artie and Mike and to a complete lack of reaction from everyone else – and he got to pull him into an empty classroom for a top up making out in the ten minutes between classes in the afternoon.
And he gets a text from Kurt in the evening when he’s driving a triumphant Sara home that reads ‘fingers in my ass & jerking off / thinking of u’ and almost makes him crash the damn truck.
Just for that (and because he really wants to) Puck texts back and makes Kurt meet him early at school the next morning, and they spend a half an hour in the back of Kurt’s Navigator that makes Puck very thankful for its tinted windows and which makes Mercedes throw him a sharp look when she sees them coming down the hall and make a pointed comment about her boy not usually being as less-than-perfectly put together as that.
Which had sent Kurt to the washroom mirrors in a panic with a hissed ‘Noah!’ but fuck it; it had totally been worth it.
He didn’t see Kurt that evening either. Which he’d been in two minds about but when he’d muttered something to Kurt at lunch about ‘Thinking of taking my Ma to temple tonight, ok?’ his boyfriend had just given him a little smile and a soft ‘That’s good of you, Noah. I think that would be really nice for you both’ so he’d relaxed about it.
It had actually been nice to go to temple. Been nice to see the pleased look on his Ma’s face when he suggested it and nice (in a squirmy, uncomfortable way) to see how her eyes welled up when he gave her the flowers he’d picked up on the way back from school. He’d enjoyed the prayers and hearing the rise and fall of Hebrew wash over him, and it had felt good, felt right, to give quiet, private thanks for his life at the moment and he’d felt a kind of joy when he rose with everyone else at the end of the Lekhah Dodi because – yes, ‘in happiness and jubilation’. Yes.
His mom had been calm and kind for the rest of the night when they’d got home, and smiled at him when he let Sara cuddle up to him on the sofa without complaint. He’d kissed her goodnight before he went up to bed and felt more grown up than he had in a while.
They didn’t do the whole ‘love you’ thing is his family – never had – but he realised now that; however annoyed he might get at her nagging and fussing, and however angry he’s been at times that she hadn’t noticed things about his life that she should have, and which he could have used her help with, he’s never doubted in his heart that she loved him and Sara. And tonight that was more than enough.
* * *
His serene feeling was ruffled a bit when he got up to his room and saw he’d got a text from Kurt.
‘sleep well. miss u. plan starts 2morrow x’
Someone should tell the butterflies suddenly threshing around in Puck’s stomach that that shit was prohibited on Shabbat.