Meet the Hummels
by Harikari

Pairing/Characters: Puck, Kurt, Burt/Ms. Puckerman, Little Sister Puckerman, Finn
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Possible slight spoilers for Season 1, pre-series, mostly gen, brotherliness, strong language, violence, fluff, AU-ness, etc.
WC: 2307
Disclaimer: Not mine. Written for fun, not profit.
AN: Written for autumn_of_glee. This also fits the prompt here (community dot livejournal dot com/glee-fluff-meme/374 dot html?thread=141174) at glee_fluff_meme . Feel free to point out any glaring mistakes.
Summary: Puck's mom goes on a date. Puck and Kurt are forced to get along.

"Wait," said Puck when his mother's words finally registered. He straightened from his sprawl and scooted to the edge of the couch before grabbing the remote from the coffee table and muting the television. "Wait. What?"

The soft smile on his mom's face morphed into a frown. "Noah," she sighed and shook her head just a little. "I said you're going to have to watch your sister tomorrow night. I want you to keep the doors locked and don't answer to anybody. I'll pick up some of those microwave dinners you like so-"

"You're going on another date?" asked Puck. "You...but you didn't tell us. You didn't say anything about another date."

His mother blinked at him. A moment beat by before she gave him a sort of lopsided grin, moved closer and put a hand on his cheek. "Noah, I did tell you. You don't need to worry. Burt and I will only be going to Bread Sticks for dinner and then maybe to a movie so we won't be gone very long. I'll have my phone with me just in case you need to call. And Kurt will be here too if-"

"Kurt's coming? He's coming here?" Suddenly angry, Puck shook his head and stood up. His mother had been romantically involved (that's what she called it) with Burt Hummel for almost four months now. At first the dates had been few and far between and Puck had assumed that the spark between Hummel and his mother would fizzle out. Disappear like all of her other relationships since his father's abrupt abandonment had. But rather than fizzling out their relationship had suddenly freaking exploded. During the last month or so they had gone out at least once a week. And Puck and his sister had been forced to stay at the Hummel house while Burt and his mother were out twice. And now, apparently, Kurt would be staying with them the following night.

Which meant the relationship between his mom and Kurt's dad wasn't ending like it was supposed to. Which meant he would continue to have to deal with the the little gay and his surprisingly trucker-like father.

"Of course," answered his mom. "You two have gotten along fine so far, right? He seems like a nice boy. He'll even be able to help you with your sister."

"I don't need any help with her," he snapped and then felt instantly guilty when his mother's eyes widened before really focusing on him.

She eyed him slowly. Her mouth parted slightly as if she was about to speak again. Puck knew exactly what she was going to say. She was going ask if he was okay. Okay with her regularly going out with a man who wasn't his deadbeat father, okay with her forcing new people into her children's lives. Puck also knew if he told her he wasn't or if he even hesitated to answer she would get that guilty look on her face she sometimes got. Would maybe go so far as to cancel this latest date.

But...no. Puck couldn't do that to his mom, couldn't make her feel that way. Not when she had been lonely for so many years. Not when she seemed so happy. Not when Kurt (despite having been a victim of Puck's badass glares and shoving and insults since grade school) had never acted like an icy bitch when he was around Puck's mother or baby sister and when Burt Hummel was a pretty decent guy.

"Sorry," he managed before his mother could say anything. "You're right. He's...Kurt's okay. He'll probably help me out. Just..." He trailed off for a moment, saw that his mother was smiling again. "Can you get us one of those big frozen pizzas instead?"

The doorbell rang about five minutes before seven. Puck could hear his mother making noise in the kitchen - there was plate clinking against plate sounds and the squeaking of the oven door - so he shut his History textbook with a snap (he wasn't exactly big on homework anyway), got up from his bed and moved across the house to open the front door.

"Hey," he said to Burt and shook the man's hand when it was offered. Kurt was standing behind and to the side of his dad. Kurt was small for being fourteen and in middle school but he looked almost tiny next to the large man; he was wearing a solid black t-shirt, white jeans and what looked like a white fedora. He kept sighing and reaching to brush at the knees of his jeans as if unsatisfied with them. "My mom's in the kitchen," informed Puck as he waved them inside.

Their parents left a handful of minutes later, his mother shuffling out the door behind Mr. Hummel with one last reminder to call right away if they needed her.

Puck grunted an acknowledgement before closing the door. Then he moved back into the living room and dropped onto the recliner. Kurt and his sister were sitting on the couch holding the plates his mom had handed them before leaving and nibbling at their slices of pizza. Puck turned the volume on the TV up with the remote (a Lord of the Rings marathon was on) and grabbed for his own slice.

Things were quiet for a while after that.

Kurt took all three of their plates and empty soda cans into the kitchen without being asked and then there was the sound of running water and gurgling pipes for a minute as Puck got up to retrieve his History book from his room. He made it back into the living room just in time to catch his sister putting the remote down on the coffee table and Kurt reclaiming his seat on the couch. The six-year-old had changed the channel. Some cartoon he didn't recognize was flashing across the television screen. Puck considered arguing with her, telling her to turn it back. But he needed to finish his review questions anyway. And Hummel? Well, Puck figured acting semi-civil to the boy because their parents were dating was sacrifice enough. Kurt would have to fend for himself.

The smaller boy didn't seem to mind the sudden channel change; he leaned back into the cushions and stared without emotion at the screen.

Puck was working on the third review question when the little gay finally spoke up. "What is that?" he asked in his crazy high voice.

"Um," said Puck because he hadn't been expecting that. So far during their forced time together they had moved around each other. Had ignored each other and had successfully avoided being hostile or polite. "History."

Kurt nodded. Then said, "I'm finished with that. The review questions, right? Do you want some help?"

Puck stared, tried to decide if the other teenager was trying to imply he was stupid because he hadn't managed to finish his homework or genuinely asking if he wanted help. "I'm...good. Thanks."

"Puck!" cut in his baby sister almost before the words were out of Puck's mouth. "Mom said you would paint my nails for me tonight because she is gone. Paint my nails for me? Please?" She waggled her tiny fingers in the air.

"I can't. I have homework. Why don't you do it yourself?" She was already pouting, her eyes big and a little wet.

"I don't know how to do it right. Please?" Right. As if he knew how to paint freaking nails.

"I said I-" started Puck, only to be cut off by Kurt.

"I'll do it," he said and shrugged before scooting off the couch and dropping down onto the carpet so that he was sitting chest level with the coffee table and next to the little girl. "I'm pretty good at it," he assured before taking the bottle of glittery, red polish from the now beaming six-year-old and shaking it.

Yeah, I bet you are. The thought came to Puck automatically but he held his tongue. Because it wasn't like Kurt had to paint her nails or had to hold off a tantrum. Because it wasn't like the other boy was to blame for his dad and Puck's mom getting together. And because Puck was a badass and had a hell of a fun time pushing around certain kids but he wasn't a complete asshole.

He watched as his sister flattened her small hand on top of the coffee table, as Kurt started to paint neat strokes of red onto her nails. Then he turned back to his spiral bound notebook and scribbled out his answer to number three.

After finishing his homework Puck left his sister in the living room with a willing and capable looking Kurt. He went to his room and called Santana. She answered, but instead of the hot if kind of ridiculous phone sex he was hoping for she complained about her parents for a good hour and a half before hanging up on him with a curse when she realized he had zoned out.

He wandered back into the living room, readying himself for a fight. He needed to put his sister to bed. She had already stayed up longer than she should have and he at least wanted her convincingly asleep by the time his mother got back.

But she wasn't in the living room and Kurt was asleep on the couch.

A little nervous, Puck spun and headed to the six-year-old's room. He found her in bed, snoring. And he could see from the fuzzy material of her shirt sleeves that she was in her pajamas. Apparently Kurt had put her to bed.

Huh.

Puck went back to the living room and over to the couch. He ran a hand over his mohawk and stood over the sprawled, slender form of Kurt for a moment - he noticed the boy's nails were painted with his baby sister's glittery red polish now, thought about waking the kid because Puck was pretty sure he wouldn't want his clothes wrinkled.

Then he grabbed the afghan hanging over the back of the couch and settled it over the slight form.

It was finally summer.

Finn was over, sitting next to him at the edge of his bed as they stared at the screen of his smallish television and pressed buttons and waggled joysticks with their thumbs and basically kicked zombie ass. Burt and Kurt were over, too. He knew Kurt was in the living room with his sister or in the kitchen with his mom and that Burt was in their garage fixing his mom's car (she insisted it had been making some strange clicking noise).

Summer. And Puck and his best friend were playing awesome video games (Puck was totally kicking Finn's ass) and in a few months they would be heading to high school (that meant Puck was a man now) and playing football and getting girls left and right. Life was good.

Life was good even with Burt and his mom still together and Kurt hanging around all the time (he was scary good at video games and kept his little sister out of his hair some of the time and helped his mom with cooking and only sang show tunes at the top of his lungs when Puck said something mean about his outfit).

"They're talking about getting married eventually," said Puck as he blew half of a zombie's head off. He frowned and shot it again when it kept coming. "We'll probably be moving into the Hummel house before the summer is over." He shrugged. "You know, it's a little bigger than this place."

Finn didn't reply for a minute while their characters held off a large horde of flesh eaters with Molotov cocktails and machine guns. "That's...aren't you like nervous or kind of angry about that?" he asked when the horde had thinned.

Puck frowned. He wasn't sure what his friend meant. Angry that his mom and Burt were forcing all of this on him? He had been at first, but it wasn't really all that bad. He had gotten used to it and his sister seemed to like Kurt and he wanted his mom to be happy. "Not really. Why?"

Finn hit pause and gave him wide eyes. "Isn't it..." He trailed off. "You know I think Kurt is cool and all but aren't you freaked out you're going to be living with a fag?"

Without thought, Puck punched Finn in the face. His fist caught the tall teenager's jaw and cheek and Finn fell off the bed and onto the carpet in an ungraceful heap.

"Shit man. I'm sorry. Just don't say shit like that about him...call him that. My little sister really likes him and my mom basically thinks he and his dad are the best thing since sliced bread and he isn't even that bitchy when you get to know him. Or...you know he's still bitchy but in a funny way."

Holding his jaw, Finn looked up at him. He stared hard at Puck then nodded and slowly, carefully got up from the floor. He dropped to the edge of the bed again. "Okay," he breathed.
Then, "I'm sorry too, man. It was my bad. I shouldn't have badmouthed your new little brother."

Puck turned sharply to look at his friend, his mouth already opened to protest. He blinked at the sight of Finn holding his soon to be bruised face and snapped it shut again. He hit the start button and nodded. "Fine. Just don't do it again."

"I need ice," said Finn and he stood. As the tall teenager opened the door and left the room Puck heard the high murmur of Kurt's voice a few seconds before the delighted squeal of his little sister's laughter tore through the house.