Jack

Hazel eyes squinted in the daylight, trying desperately to telepathically call the attention of the child in his lap that was giggling at something across the field without saying anything and causing the people around him to stare. He frowned when the child clapped his hands at the stupid faces Kurt was making across the field at him, in between contributions to his conversation with Finn and Rachel. It was true that the toddler loved his godfather.

Puck frowned. Godfather-schmodfather. Puck was the kid's dad, dammit, and he deserved the boy's attention. He shot a dirty look at Kurt, who jumped a little and then stuck his tongue out at the other man, but begrudgingly returned his attention to the conversation. The kid in his lap turned around and looked up at Puck with a toothless smile and wide eyes, and Puck, hard-ass though he was, melted.

They'd agreed not to choose which of them would be the father, but Puck found himself constantly trying to find the father in his son's face, in his mannerisms, in his smile and his laugh. Sometimes, Sam would look over at him and tsk at him, and Puck would try to look innocent, but he couldn't help but wonder. Jack had those wide hazel eyes and tufts of chocolate brown hair that looked painfully his, but he lacked the coarse curls and olive skin-tone that Puck had. The surrogate had been a brunette, but she'd been blue eyed, and Puck wondered if Jack had inherited the hazel from him, or from some relative of the surrogate.

The man sighed and sat back in his seat, pulling his son closer to his chest. Jack cooed in his lap and drooled a little, and his father laughed, but quickly wiped the spit from his son's lips before it could drip onto his clothes. He wasn't ready for a Kurt meltdown when he discovered that his godson's father had allowed him to drool all over the expensive, fashionable baby wear that the man always showered Jack with. Puck and Sam chuckled when Kurt's response to their proposal that he be the godfather was his opening a new baby fashion line. Of course Kurt couldn't just say yes. He had to do it in the most fabulous way possible.

As if he could read Puck's thoughts, the man strode across the field in his white, knee-high boots, pinstriped tight pants, and long angora sweater. He had a wide smile on his face as he scooped Jack from Puck's lap without a word and nuzzled his neck.

"Doesn't Jack look so good in his Baby Rotti jacket?" He hoisted the brunette up on his hip, then narrowed his eyes at Puck. "Doesn't he?"

Puck threw his hands up defensively. "Whatever you say, man. You know this fashion stuff better than me."

Kurt smiled in victory. "Baby Jackie pulls off plaid so well. He's got such a gorgeous skin tone. Such an inspiration for my line."

Puck rolled his eyes and took his child back from his godfather. "Why don't you and Blaine hurry up and have your own kid so you can stop stealing ours?"

The shorter boy held a hand to his heart in faux-horror. "How could you even accuse me of such a thing? Stealing my godson! You should be so thankful that I dress Jackie so fabulously." He clucked his tongue, "Besides, Blaine and I just got married. We're not about to hurry and procreate while he's still touring…" He leaned forward and cooed at Jack, "…and while I'm right in the middle of Jackie's line."

Puck's eyes narrowed at Kurt. "Would you quit calling my son 'Jackie,' dammit? His name is Jack Puckerman-Evans."

"Oh, please," Kurt waved his hand in Puck's face, not tearing his eyes from Jack's as he stuck his tongue out at the boy and screwed his face up to make the boy laugh. "You boys and your gender roles are so boring. Jackie's skin tone and eyes open up so many fashion possibilities I wish I could explore for him, and would if you and Sam would stop being so close minded."

At the sound of his name, the conversation caught Sam's attention. He looked over with a grin on his face, "What are we talking about, guys?"

Kurt straightened up and threw his hands in the air, "How if you guys would just abandon those lame gender roles, you'd open your gorgeous son up to a world of fashion opportunities! Fashion knows no gender, boys!"

Puck groaned, but his husband smiled wider. "You think Jack is gorgeous?" He looked to Puck, "You hear that, Puck?"

After a long moment, the taller grinned and chuckled. "Yes, dear," he said mockingly, "but I knew that already."

The teal-eyed fashion designer dropped his hands to his hips and groaned aloud. "You two are sickening. And for the record, I'm jealous." He grabbed one of Jack's chubby hands. "I can't wait until Blaine and I can have our own so I can stop spoiling Jackie so much."

Jack pouted, almost in understanding, jutting out his bottom lip and wrinkling his nose. Strong paternal instinct took over Puck as he wrapped his arms around his son, as if to protect him from the sob that threatened to part Jack's rosy lips. "Don't worry, Jack," Puck assured his son, "Papa is gonna spoil you way after Uncle Kurt gets tired of putting you in his stupid outfits and unloading his cash on you because he and his stupid husband finally have their own kid."

Kurt gasped, offended. "Stupid outfits," he growled, "I have never. You two are so ungrateful. Your child is fashion forward because of me, and you should be eternally thankful, as I plan to make sure my godson is dressed to the nines well into his teens." Kurt adjusted his hair, "especially if he's going to be associated with my future child."

Puck rolled his eyes, "Sometimes I regret making you and Rachel the godparents of my children. Especially you." He kissed Jack's forehead lovingly. "I'm starting to think you're just trying to make Jack into Kurt Jr, and I'm not about to let that happen, man."

Just as Kurt was about snap back, Sam placed a hand Puck's bicep, and shot him a look that reads, play nice. "C'mon, guys," he removed his hand from Puck's arm. "You guys are always fighting. It's dumb."

Kurt puffed out a breath, responding with a quick, "Sorry."

Puck didn't make eye contact, but replied likewise, and then mumbled, "I guess Jack looks pretty badass in that leather jacket you gave him."

The pale boy beamed with pride and smoothed the wrinkles from his angora. "I knew you thought so."

Before Puck could retort, Kurt turned on his heels and walks away, clearly feeling victorious, which put a foul scowl on Puck's face. Jack studied his father, then imitated the frown.

The sound of Sam's cheery laughter cut through Puck's mood, who glanced over at his blond husband. "I see you in him more and more every day." Sam smiled and plucked Jack from Puck's arms, "maybe we should just shave his hair into a Mohawk and get over it already."

"Thought we weren't gonna mess around with that." He grabbed his son's hand and shook it absentmindedly. "He's ours."

Sam laughed in response, "Whatever, Puckerman. I see you studying that boy's face on a daily basis. You're not about to sit there and lecture me about deciphering Jack's face."

"Excuse me," Puck grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him close, "It's Puckerman-Evans, dude."

Sam's wide mouth parted in a toothy smile, "yes, sir." He leaned in to meet his husband's lips, but was interrupted by the cooing of the toddler in his lap.

Puck, distracted, grabbed his son and stood, hoisting him up onto his shoulders. Jack giggled incessantly and grabbed onto his Mohawk. Sam watched as his husband and son played from his seat, then stood and grabbed his shoulders, stopping him successfully. He took the brunette toddler from Puck and held him in his arms. The other man watched the blonde hold Jack, and Puck found himself studying his son again.

"He really is a pretty kid," he mumbled, absentmindedly; Sam smiled beautifully in silent agreement.

And that's when Noah Puckerman-Evans smiled and thought, Jack actually looks just like Sam.

A/N: Just a little something I thought up when I saw a picture of Mark and Chord with a baby. I don't actually ship this, but it seemed like a neat idea.

maria