A/N: Written for the 2012 Puckurt Big Bang.

Kurt was exactly where Puck had left him that morning when he went to work, curled on his side in their bed. He knew that his boyfriend hadn't been feeling well when he woke up, but for him to not even get out of bed was a very bad sign. Puck pushed the door open a little more, hoping that Kurt wouldn't stir if he really needed the sleep. That's when his eyes shifted from the dark hair barely visible above the comforter to the carefully folded pants and shirt on the desk chair, a sweater draped across the back. Kurt only left clothes out like that if he'd been wearing them and was going to wear them again that day, which meant he just got comfortable for a nap.

Puck pushed the door open enough to slip through, thumbing the button of his jeans as he went. He stripped off his shirt, slid his pants down his legs and left them crumpled on the floor in a heap before climbing into bed, sliding an arm around Kurt's waist and pulling him to his chest. "How are you?" he asked into the base of Kurt's neck, lips tickling the short hairs there. "Feeling better?"

The blanket-warmed body turned around in his arms, facing him and sliding down a little bit to press a quick kiss to his chest. "You left your phone here," Kurt murmured, quiet against the skin.

"I'm sorry?" Puck wasn't sure why something as simple as forgetting his phone could cause this kind of response from Kurt. "Did you try to get ahold of me for something?" He shook his head no. "Did someone call?"

"Your sister."

A fond smile crossed Puck's face. "She talk your ear off?" Head shake. A horrible thought crossed his mind. "Is someone dead?" Shake, thankfully. "Did something happen?" Finally, a nod. "Is it Ma?" Another head shake. "Is Sarah in trouble?" A deep breath, and a single nod. "Dammit, Kurt, just tell me what's going on."

"Sarah's pregnant. She's keeping the baby."

For a split second, he's sixteen years old again and watching a frustrated Finn walk away, the words ringing in his ears. The bottom falls out of his stomach and he knows he needs to fix this, he just doesn't know how.

He comes back and Kurt's still talking, his voice shaking a little. "She called your phone, so I figured I'd answer and catch up with her. But she was just crying, and I couldn't get her to tell me what was wrong, but she just kept crying, and I didn't know what to do. I always knew how to handle Mercedes and Tina and Quinn and every single one of Rachel's mental breakdowns, even now, but I've never seen Sarah be anything other than happy and sarcastic and funny and just herself. And she didn't want to tell me, she wanted me to put you on the phone, but I had to tell her you weren't here, but that she could tell me anything." He sniffed wetly. "She said she could only talk to her big brother and that she really fucked up. 'I fucked up, I need Noah, I really fucked up, I need by brother.' Over and over."

He squeezed tighter, thankful that Kurt at least had been there for her. "How did you get her to talk?"

"I reminded her that I might not be her big brother, but I was a big brother, so I had the rulebook." He chuckled weakly. "If I could handle Finn's frantic phone calls at three in the morning about whether he was screwing things up with Rachel after their latest fight, I could help her. I got her to breathe, and she calmed down and stopped talking for a little bit. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, 'Tell Noah to call me back because he's going to be an uncle.' She started crying again and hung up."

Sighing, Puck nuzzled his face in his boyfriend's hair. "God, how did this happen?"

"I don't know," Kurt admitted. "She sounded so scared."

"Wait till she gets over that," Puck said. "She always said she was gonna one-up me and not be a teenage parent. She's gonna be pissed when she realizes that she's in the same boat."

A soft giggle erupted from Kurt's mouth. "She still lasted a year longer than you."

"Shut up."

Kurt continued giggling slightly as Puck pouted. His lower lip stuck out as far as he could get it, until Kurt leaned up and kissed it lightly, sighing. "Why are we joking about this? This isn't supposed to be funny."

"Because sometimes it's all you can do," Puck said quietly. "First time I talked to Quinn about Beth, back when she was still Finn's baby, I made some crack about immaculate conception and the Vatican. Even the whole Jackie Daniels thing was me trying to get her to loosen up. Sometimes you have to pretend it's a joke to make it not suck so much."

They lay there, curled together for a while longer simply breathing each other's air. As soon as they moved the world around them would continue, but for the moment, wrapped together in their bed, it was just them. At least, that's what they convinced themselves.

Puck pulled away first, reluctantly, reaching over Kurt for the phone on the night stand. "I need to call Sarah. Then probably Ma after that, and maybe Carole because she already hates doctors and someone needs to make sure she's healthy. I'm not letting Sarah put herself or this kid in jeopardy, not if she actually wants it." He rolled back, phone clutched in his hand and eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Shit, what if she decides to get rid of it anyway? That's a whole different set of calls and doctors and-" He was cut off by Kurt's hand covering his mouth. He looked at his boyfriend who was staring with wide eyes.

"Puck," he started out slowly. "I know you want to help her. That's great, and there's nothing wrong with that. But you don't have to do it alone either. I'm here for both of you, every step of the way, okay?" Puck nodded and Kurt removed his hand, leaning over to kiss him soundly.

"How did I get so lucky with you?" Puck murmured as they broke apart.

"I got fed up with you stalking me," Kurt whispered back, then pressed one last kiss to his boyfriend's lips before rolling out of bed to put his clothes back on. Puck barked out a short laugh at their old joke while watching him dress.

They had both known they were in the group of McKinley students that moved to New York, but they hadn't thought anything of it. That is, until Puck thought he heard a familiar high voice coming out of the Starbucks down the street from his apartment. And then Kurt caught sight of a mohawk walking past his favorite Thai cafe. A few more similar incidents passed before they literally ran into each other with shopping carts at the little grocery spot on the corner. They finished shopping together, checked out, and walked down the street together to the same crappy apartment building where Puck lived one floor above Kurt. This resulted in promises to hang out that neither of them intended to keep until Kurt needed a date to a school function to make some guy jealous. The fake date turned into a real one about halfway through, with neither boy noticing up to the point of them making out against Kurt's front door.

Kurt tossed Puck's jeans at his head, telling him it would probably be better to be dressed for this phone call. He sobered, then threw the covers back, tugging his pants on at the side of the bed. Another moment to pull himself together, and he stood, grabbing his shirt and putting it on. He picked up his phone from where he'd set it on the pillow and stared at it. Kurt came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's toned chest. "Let's sit at the table." Puck nodded and let himself be pulled over to their minuscule kitchen and sat in one of the folding chairs. He grabbed Kurt's hand and squeezed, then found the speed dial for Sarah's cell. Puck pressed the button firmly, turned on the speaker, and set it on the table.

The phone rang three times, echoing slightly down the line. The sound cut off and the faint strains of music were heard. "Noah?" asked a tired voice.

Puck smiled despite himself at the sound of his little sister saying his name. "Hey, Sarah-bear."

Sarah laughed shortly, then her breath hitched and little sobs starting pouring down the phone. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry Noah. I fucked up, I didn't mean—"

"Hey, hey, no listen," Puck said, firm but gentle. "It's okay, it'll all be okay."

"Don't lie to me," she snapped. "I'm fucking pregnant, okay? This changes everything."

"Yeah, it does," he admitted, "but I promise it'll be okay."

"You can't know that."

"Sure I can," he smirked, though his eyes were watery. "I'm your big brother and I'm always right."

"So full of yourself," she muttered. There was a moment of silence, then soft hitching breaths. "Noah?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you just— just stay on the phone with me while I cry? Just 'til I can pull it together a little bit?"

Puck squeezed Kurt's hand harder. "Not going anywhere."

At his promise, Sarah starting crying again. Puck felt helpless; all he wanted in that moment was to hold his baby sister while what sounded like the Demi Lovato's greatest hits CD he bought her as a gag gift for her last birthday played in the background. She'd been a fan of all those Disney artists because she was their target audience, and played their songs way too much, so Puck couldn't pass up the joke. Hearing Skyscraper was always supposed to be a little hopeful, even he had to admit it, but at the moment it seemed like some kind of cruel irony.

He panicked a moment when Kurt tried to pull his hand away, but the other man just gestured to the small coffeemaker on the counter. Puck nodded gratefully, though he still let go reluctantly. Kurt pressed a kiss to the side of his head, then fished the coffee grounds out of the cabinet and set about making a pot. Once he started it brewing, Kurt sat back down, gripping Puck's hand tight and kissing the knuckles. By the time it was gently dripping into the full pot, Sarah's sobs had quieted and her breathing was more even with the occasional hitch.

"God, I hate crying," she muttered, then came a very loud sound of a nose being blown, followed by a faint "Ew." More rustling and the sound of a cabinet closing, accompanied by a metallic clatter. Finally they heard the sound of a door closing. "Okay," Sarah said, trying and failing to sound like her usual chipper self. "What's first, Mr. Fix-It?"

Puck snorted. "You got your spoon and Nutella?"

"Brand new jar," she mumbled, no doubt around the food in her mouth.

"Good." He took a sip of the coffee Kurt had poured during her hunt for comfort food. "Have you taken the test, or are you just late?"

"I wouldn't worry you unless there was reason to worry." He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "All three tests came up positive."

Puck felt that last little hope that this would be a false alarm fly away. "What do you want to do?"

"I'm keeping it," she said immediately. "Like, for real keeping it."

Puck's breath caught a moment. "You sure?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "I saw what giving up Beth did to you and I can't go through that. I know I'm probably crazy and this'll cost me money and my reputation and all that jazz, and that I'm so not ready to be a mom. But I don't have a choice anymore. I can't spend my life not knowing this kid."

He was stunned, but understanding at the strength of her outburst. "Okay. Now there's a couple people you have to tell."

"Well I already covered you and Kurt."

"You scared the crap out of him, by the way."

"Tell him I'm sorry."

"You're on speaker, tell him yourself."

"Sorry, Kurt."

Kurt smiled fondly. "Forgiven."

"Good." She paused, probably to steel herself. "Who do I have to tell?"

"Ma for starters."

She sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that. Sure we can't just convince her I'm getting fat?"

"Different weight distribution," Kurt reminded her.

"Damn. Who else?"

"You'll need a doctor, but I know you hate them, so you should probably tell Carole so she can set you up," Puck explained. "At the very least, she'll be able to point you in the right direction."

"Forgot about doctors." He heard the shudder, followed by the faint noise of eating. "Anyone else?"

"The father."

"No."

Puck frowned. "Sarah, it's his kid too."

"No it's not."

"If he's the father, it is his kid. That's kinda the definition." A horrible thought struck him. "Sarah," he said, voice low and warning, "are you trying to pull the same shit Quinn did?"

"No!" She sounded offended. "Hell no! I would never pull a bitch move like that! How the fuck could you think I would ever do that?"

"Well I had to check," Puck bit back. Even years later and with everything that had happened, that lie still stung more than a bit.

"No, you didn't," Sarah retorted, "because I remember. I may not have known what was going on, but I remember you being pissed off all the time between when you joined New Directions and when Quinn came to live with us. I'm not going to lie because I think he'd be a bad dad or I have a better option or whatever bullshit she shoveled, but as far as I'm concerned, he doesn't have any right!"

"Why not?" Puck yelled.

"Because—"

Silence.

A long silence.

"Sarah?" Kurt asked gently. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah." She sounded tired, defeated.

"Why doesn't he have any right?"

She took a deep breath. "Because we were drunk and I tried to say no."

Puck couldn't hear anything over the roaring in his ears. He hadn't been this angry since Kurt broke his ankle three months into their relationship and the ER nurse wouldn't let him back because he wasn't an emergency contact and had no legal standing. He felt like killing someone then, too. His hands shook, so he held onto the coffee to steady them. He thought about trying to take a sip, but the chances of spilling all over his shirt were too high. Instead, he held tight, so tight he thought the mug might crack.

"—and I said I didn't feel like it, but he kinda had a one-track mind and I didn't feel like fighting either, so I just stopped talking and let him do whatever because he had a condom in his wallet so I figured it was cool, but I guess he hadn't gotten laid in so long that it wore a hole or something. I got off then he got off, and I thought this would all just be a drunken memory. It sucks that it's not, but I'll be damned if that asshole gets his hands on my baby."

"I'm gonna kill him, you know." Puck said conversationally. "Snap his neck with my bare hands. Skin him so no one recognizes him. Set him on fire. Drop him in a lake for a few weeks. Then drop him bit by bit down the storm drains. They'll never find the body. Because there won't be one." He glanced at Kurt who was staring, wide-eyed. "What?"

"I'm just not used to the death threats being so calm," he admitted. "Usually you'd be growling and pounding your fist into your hand right about now."

Puck grinned. "Saving it up for when I actually see the guy."

Sarah laughed, long and loud on the phone. "Oh, I needed that. Thanks, Noah." She chuckled a few more times.

"I don't see what's so funny. I'm dead serious."

"I know. But he graduated last year and his family is moving to California in a few weeks. He's not coming back."

"What?" Puck was growling now. "This punk doesn't even go to school with you?"

"Anymore. Doesn't go to school with me anymore. Besides, it's not like I was a virgin or anything."

If Puck had been drinking the last of his coffee like he almost did, he would have spit it out on the table. "What? No. No-no-no, you are only seventeen. You're not allowed to have sex until you're forty."

Kurt snorted next to him and Sarah squawked, "You fucking hypocrite! At least I held off 'til sixteen. At least I did it with someone I liked and trusted. How about you?"

Puck thought about Santana, about awkward fumblings that finally crossed that line the night of his fifteenth birthday, about years of honing those skills using each other and half the school. He only liked her half the time, more now that he didn't see her day-to-day anymore, and he'd never trusted her.

"Shut up."

"No way you can delude yourself now with a niece or nephew in nine months."

He sighed deeply. "I know. Still. When you're seventy years old and have twenty grandkids, I'm gonna see you as the two year old who peed in my shoes then finger-painted a picture for me to make up for it."

"Nooooo-aaaah," she whined. "C'mon. I've spent six years trying to convince Kurt that I'm the cool Puckerman and you keep messing it up."

"Please, I'm the cool one."

"You forget, Puck," Kurt interrupted. "I've seen you in a dress. And I've done your make-up. Trust me, Sarah's the cool one."

"That doesn't count, it was glee stuff."

"I've got pictures from last year."

"That was for a bet!"

"Sarah, you'll always be the cool one."

"Yes! You know you need to send me those—" Sarah broke off the conversation. "Oh, shit. Ma's home." Her voice was slightly panicked. "Are you sure I have to tell her?"

"You probably should," Kurt said gently. "Just get it over with."

"Okay." The panic was evident now. "Okay. So, when this all blows up in my face I can run to New York to live with you two and say 'I told you so,' right?"

"If you really have to, of course we'll take you. But I think you should give your mom a little more credit. It'll be a shock, but she loves you. Worst comes to worst, go to Dad and Carole." He smiled slightly at the phone. "It's been a while since she's had a pregnant teenager need somewhere to stay, but she won't turn you away."

Sarah laughed quietly. "Thanks guys. For everything." Puck reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand at the sound of the obvious tears in her voice. "Love you."

Puck squeezed Kurt's hand so tight he distantly feared it might break. "Love you too, Sarah-bear. Bye."

"Bye," she whispered. Then nothing but dead air.

They sat there for a few minutes, Puck crushing Kurt's hand in his. He would have worried and let up, but Kurt was using his own vise-like grip, the one usually reserved for impressing or intimidating. Back in high school, it meant a combination of both; now it was a reassurance they were both there.

"Would Ruth actually kick her out?" Kurt asked quietly.

"It'd be pretty shitty of her to do it. Welcome her son's baby mama with open arms but get rid of her only daughter? She's not that much of a hypocrite." He sighed, slumping back in his chair. Kurt's thumb started drawing small circles on the back of his hand. His grip relaxed, even as his head started pounding. "That doesn't mean she won't need a place to run away to when shit gets hard. Quinn liked her slumber parties and I crashed on San's floor a few times."

Kurt slid his chair closer. He set his head on Puck's shoulder, their hands linked on his lap. "She always has a place at the Hudmels. Carole loves her and those overnights have wrapped Dad around her finger."

Puck snorted and tipped his head over onto Kurt's. They tended to sleep in Kurt's old room when they visited Lima, simply because his bed had room for two people unlike Puck's worn-out extra-long twin. Sarah didn't like this. She liked spending as much time with them as possible. This involved inviting herself over for dinner and movie nights and just falling asleep on the couch. The first time, Burt thought it was adorable, though he'd never use that word. He was the one to fish the multicolored afghan out of the hall closet and drape it over her. Come breakfast time, they were laughing together over oatmeal and cups of decaf coffee, a tradition that continued every time she stayed the night. It was a mix of friendship and father-daughter that amused and confused everyone but the two of them.

"Everything's gonna change for her," Puck murmured. "I don't doubt she'll be a great mom, but it'll be hard. She said so herself, she's not ready. I just wish she could be a kid a little while longer, you know?" He brought their joined hands up to his lips and kissed Kurt's knuckles softly. "God has some shitty timing with giving babies to Puckermans. Granted, I don't think my dad could ever seriously handle having a kid, so with that there was no good timing."

The bitterness seeping through those words was obvious. Kurt knew all about his issues with his so-called father and hated to hear Puck hurting like that. "Good thing Ruth is a Bernbaum, huh? She raised you two well."

"Yeah, a couple of teenage parents." He stood up roughly, Kurt's attempts at diffusing the tension flowing through his body failing. "I mean, fuck, everyone's gonna look down on her now. It sucks. It doesn't matter what you accomplish later or how happy you are. You have a kid in high school and those fucking judging eyes are on your back for life. Even when they don't look anymore, you still feel them. Hell, if I were the one having a kid right now with you, everybody would be throwing a damn party! Asking when it's due, surrogate or adoption, where are we registered for cribs and shit, all those things that they're nosy enough to ask and we'll tell them anyway because we'd be too fucking ecstatic to keep it to ourselves. And it's some kind of cosmic joke that everyone would expect us to be happy about having to jump through hoops but think less of her for having it just happen!"

He stood on the other side of the apartment, eyes locked on Kurt and breathing heavily. The smaller man stood slowly and approached his boyfriend, palms out in a show of calm. He ran a hand over the mohawk toward the back, slowly grounding him, then dragged it forward and pressed it against Puck's cheek.

"You have issues."

The tension broke. It was still there, but not threatening to consume him anymore. Anyone else, and the statement would have caused him to snap completely, but Kurt had such affection behind the tease that Puck couldn't help letting out a startled chuckle. "No shit, Sherlock. But you love me anyway, right?"

"No shit, Sherlock," Kurt mocked. He wrapped his arms around Puck, folding them together. They stood there a while, listening to each other breathe, until Kurt said Puck's name.

"Huh?"

"Did you mean what you said? About us and kids?" Puck frowned and opened his mouth, but Kurt beat him to it. "Not about having them. We've talked about that. But it's always been a future thing. Do you think— Are we ready to have kids?"

Puck thought for a moment, everything from their finances to their emotional stability as a couple. "I think so."

Kurt squeezed tighter. "I think so too." He took a deep breath. "What if— what if we adopted Sarah's baby?"

They talked. Hours of discussion into the night and countless cups of coffee. Will either of them have to quit to stay at home and who would it be? Do they even have time right now? Where would they live? How would they handle the pregnancy? All of this between "Oh my god, we're actually insane aren't we?"s and "Of course, we have to ask Sarah first"s.

By the time the sun rose, they had things figured out. As well as could be done, anyway. They would sublet their tiny studio for a year and move back to Lima to help Sarah through the pregnancy and keep the baby there until she graduated. Plenty of family friends would be willing to give them decent jobs to build up more income while they lived in a larger but much cheaper place. Then they would return to New York and get a two bedroom place with a spot for Sarah if she chose to come with them. Kurt would start auditioning again and Puck would stay home and continue his songwriting for the publisher that had been paying him advances and royalties for five years.

"We should probably book a flight for a month from now," Kurt said, pouring himself one last cup of coffee. "That way my show is wrapped and we have a little extra time to finish packing before this place goes on the market." He sipped and grimaced at the lack of heat. The warmer had been turned off a few hours ago to prevent them from evaporating the pot and having to scrub it. "Assuming Sarah says yes."

They both looked at the phone where it had been sitting in the middle of the table all night. After a quick mental calculation, Puck realized Sarah would be getting up in half an hour. If she even slept at all. He picked it up and thumbed her number on the speed dial.

Sarah was tired, having just been woken up, but she was much calmer. Apparently Ruth took the news almost exactly like she had with Puck: a hug, a promise that she loved her kid and they would talk in the morning, downing two glasses of whiskey, and going to bed early. Granted, she only drank one glass when Puck brought Quinn home, but he figured knowing she had to go through it all a second time was worth an extra glass.

When Puck proposed their idea, she clammed up. There was a long, tense moment, and just as Puck was about to tell her to forget about it, she said, "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I think that's a great idea."

"You do?" He looked over at Kurt, excitement plain on both their faces. "I mean, you can have time to think about it if you—"

"Noah," she cut him off. "This is what's best for everyone. I can just feel it. You two will be great dads and this baby deserves a real chance at a good life." She sighed. "I can't really give that."

"Sarah—"

"No, it's true. Fun and awesome aunt I can do. Mom would be more than I can handle. I just— I need to be in her life. I can't give him up to strangers. And while you're a little strange, you're definitely not a stranger."

Puck chuckled, then her words registered. "Wait. Her life and give him up?" He shot Kurt a confused look. "Is there something I'm missing here?"

"I'm switching pronouns back and forth until I know for sure." He snorted, because it was such a Sarah thing to do. "Okay, I need to get ready for school. Pregnancy is no excuse to slack on grades. Hey, put Kurt on speaker."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

He rolled his eyes and put the loudspeaker on in the middle of the table. As Kurt came over, he said, "Go, Sarah."

"I need to know what kind of outfit says 'I'm having a baby and my brother and his boyfriend are adopting it.'" Puck looked over at Kurt and saw his shock mirrored on his boyfriend's face. "Might as well tell the glee club what's up so they can decide if they're going to dump me for it or not. Somehow I think Schue will be grateful that this is a simple teen pregnancy and not one filled with lies and cheating like last time."

"You should start with Puck being the father," Kurt interjected, "and see how many colors his face turns."

"Sure, throw me under the bus," he grumbled. Puck stood and looked at their apartment as Kurt and Sarah discussed the contents of her closet. He was pretty sure he could pack up the majority of their things and get them shipped to Lima while Kurt wrapped his chorus role in a 1920s mobster version of Oedipus Rex. If they could get Burt or maybe even Schue to help store boxes until they got there and got their own place—

He realized just how many people they'd have to tell. Sure, he had listed off the big ones to Sarah the night before, but they would need all the help they could get.

Kurt wrapped up the phone call and looked over at Puck. "What?"

"We probably need to let your parents know. Finn and Rachel, too, so they're not trying drop by when we're not here." Puck scrubbed a hand over his face. "Hell, we should probably tell all of New Directions so they can throw us that baby shower we were talking about."

"I bet they all thought Finchel would be having a baby before Puckurt."

Puck couldn't help but smile at the use of the old couple names. "Yeah, but at least Tike went first. Now we don't have to worry about Rachel being mad at us for stealing that spotlight."

Kurt looked like he wanted to protest, but then he smiled and admitted, "I would say she'd never be that ridiculous, but she's Rachel Berry, so there's no telling. Either way, she'll be happy for us. Besides, if you want to get technical, you and Quinn had the first glee club baby."

Puck smiled, thinking of the little girl he gave up years ago. "Yeah, but we actually get to keep this one." He stood for a few more minutes, remembering his last Skype call with Beth and how excited she had been about her school project. Kurt's hand on his arm took him out of the moment.

"You did what was best for Beth. You know that, right?"

"I know," Puck admitted. "Doesn't mean it didn't hurt like hell to do it, though. There hasn't been a single day where I haven't thought about her since I found out Quinn was pregnant." Kurt hugged him tightly, and Puck felt his arms go up around him automatically. "I almost didn't let her go, but then Shelby came up and asked what her name was, and I could just tell that she wanted her. And the fact that she wanted to know what we— what I would have called her was as good of a sign as I was gonna get that she'd take care of my little girl when I knew I couldn't. So I let her go."

"We didn't talk much then, but I could see how it was killing you. Not always, but every so often there would be a moment." Kurt smiled weakly. "I remember Brittany saying something about baby ducks once, and your face lit up, but then you were angry the rest of the day." Puck knew those moments. Something would remind him of his little girl, but then he'd remember that she wasn't his anymore. "Now though, when we talk about her, it's always her latest recital or what she set on fire this week."

"Hey now, she's trying to learn how to cook."

"I'd believe that more if she wasn't your daughter and you didn't have a semi-unhealthy fascination with burning things," Kurt snarked back.

"Quinn's the one that lit the piano on fire in the courtyard, that's all her genes."

"And the carefully sliced grapes in our microwave?"

Puck remained silent.

"That's what I thought." They slotted their heads onto shoulders, a position they'd held often before. "I just… wanted to make sure that adopting Sarah's baby was centered in the here and now, and not from some misplaced regret with Beth."

"I might wish things had been different, but there's no regret. It worked out the way it was supposed to." Puck pulled away, pressing a light kiss to Kurt's forehead. "Now do you want Rachel to talk your ear off, or are you ready to tell Burt he's going to be a grandpa?"

"I'll take my dad, you handle Miss Berry. And please try to keep her from coming over here. I don't feel like having her run up our cell bill when Finn calls to ask where his wife is and she takes the phone away."