a/n: this scene takes place in the context of unbeing dead and rain upon flowers, but was written to stand alone as an exploration of jake and puck's relationship post-series. while reading them is recommended, it is not required in the least. enjoy.

"So you're moving in with Charming."

Jake's grip tightens on the wheel. "So you're sneaking through my texts again."

"I'm a little old for that, don't you think?"

Jake rolls his eyes.

"No," says Puck. "I caught Daphne moving your stuff."

"She started already?"

"You've got a lot of stuff."

They drive a half dozen miles in silence. New Mexico here is flat, dusty, hot. Very empty. Spacious, suffocating.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"I don't know."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"...I don't know."

"Look, I get it," sighs Puck, crossing his feet up on the dashboard, nestling his head on his arms on the back of his seat, "It's the end of an era. We had a good run."

"We're not going to stop," says Jake. "I wouldn't spring that on you."

Puck's head swings towards him. "Wouldn't you?"

Jake stares out the window. "All right. I guess. Except now's not the time. Do I look like I'm reaching retirement age?"

"Yes," says Puck at once.

Jake snorts.

"But seriously," says Puck, "I thought you'd want to stay in with your boyfriend a while."

"He's not—"

"A little."

"He's not. Not that I don't—"

"Wish?"

Jake takes a deep breath, exhales slowly as he taps a quiet rhythm on the wheel. "He needs time."

"What, to get over Snow?" Puck scrunches up his nose. "Hasn't it been, like, a thousand years or something?"

"Five hundred since the wedding," says Jake. "The last time they dated was a year before the girls arrived. Look, it's not just that. Bunny, Atticus, the Book... it's taken its toll on him."

"I guess," says Puck.

Jake looks over. "Is it up to you to guess?"

"It wasn't easy for any of us, is all I'm saying. You should know."

Jake frowns.

Puck crosses his arms. "Anyway, what's so great about His Royal Highness? Isn't he a little uppity for your tastes?"

When Jake doesn't respond, Puck says, "Don't tell me it's just because he's pretty."

"He is pretty," Jake mutters.

"Very," Puck agrees, "But you're not that shallow."

"He's a good guy," says Jake, "at heart. Don't tell me you didn't know that."

Puck shrugs and turns his face again to the window, to the bright sun. "I just don't want you getting hurt again."

Jake opens his mouth, then looks to Puck's reflection in the sideview mirror and shuts it again. "Thanks," he says finally.

They drive. Jake rolls down the windows. The wind blows wildly through Puck's thick curls as he leans further out of the car, screwing his eyes shut.

At length, the fairy says, '"You never even told me."

"What?"

"That you liked—" He breaks off.

"Oh," says Jake. "Uh—sorry. I got used to keeping it on the downlow. It was hard enough living in Ferryport Landing as a Grimm, but…."

"Yeah," says Puck, "I get it."

"I like women just as much, or more—I guess you knew that. I would have told you if it had come up, but by the time Charming—I mean, you never questioned it."

"Well, I figured it out pretty quickly, because like—y'know. Same."

Puck has opened his eyes but his gaze remains trained upon the desert out the window.

"Puck," says Jake.

"It's whatever," says Puck, "I've got Sabrina, so it doesn't matter—but I thought you should know."

"You never told anyone?"

"Will knew," says Puck, and just as Jake is raising his eyebrows he clarifies, "The bard, not the prince. Shakespeare, I mean. he was obsessed with this one dude, or whatever, so I told him. It got kind of bad to say anything about it. But I was young for a long time, anyway. I was never in love until 'Brina."

Jake glances down. Puck's hands are balled in fists upon his lap.

"Except?" says Jake.

"Except," Puck repeats, very quietly. Abruptly, he turns to Jake and asks, "Do you love him?"

"Yes," says Jake, and chokes a little on his next, "Oh."

"Oof," says Puck. "That sounds under-rehearsed."

"I'm screwed," says Jake.

"You're in love," says Puck.

"That's what I said," says Jake, and Puck scoffs.

"You were in love before," he says, "It's just now you put a name to it. What's with adults and freaking out over calling a feeling what it is?"

"What? Aren't you an adult?"

"Nah," says Puck.

"I'm pretty sure you are."

"You must have mistaken me for somebody else."

"You turned eighteen—"

"Nope," says Puck, "Never did, never will."

"Sabrina," Jake reminds him, then says, "If it's not a big deal, who's your except?"

Puck scowls. "That was a long time ago."

"I'm new to this living forever thing. Do you just get over stuff after a couple hundred years?"

Puck sticks out his tongue.

"All right," says Jake, heaving a sigh, "So you're not an adult."

"Damn right I'm not." Puck leans against the door again, propping his chin up on one hand. "Don't tell Sabrina," he adds.

"Don't tell Will," says Jake.

"You're going to have to someday."

"Are you sure about that?"

Puck is silent for a minute. "Let's put it this way," he says finally. "Most people have a few excepts."

"...and?"

"I don't think Charming's one of yours."

Jake's breath catches in his throat. "I thought you said he was a little uppity for me."

"I said I don't want you getting hurt." Puck tilts his head. "If you do love him, he knows it, and he's not going to be the one to break your heart."

"Then who is?"

Puck gives him a look. "You are."

Jake suddenly laughs. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean," says Puck, "If you're not careful, you're going to convince yourself to leave."

"I wouldn't—"

"I know you," says Puck, "You don't run away from pain anymore. You run toward it."

Jake's grin falls away. He watches a lone truck roll by beside them.

Puck says, "Do yourself a favour for once, Jake, and let him love you back."

Jake keeps his eye trained on the truck as it disappears in the rearview mirror. "So you're not an adult," he says, once it's out of sight. "I didn't think you were naïve."

Puck glares at him, sitting up straighter before collapsing back onto the seat with a sigh.

"Fine," he says. "Whatever. Don't listen to me. Just keep on keeping on, Jake."

Jake frowns. "I'm just saying, just because he's keeping me around doesn't mean—"

"I know what you're saying, don't worry," says Puck. "It's all right. Misery suits you."

"I'm not—"

"I'm going to take a nap," the fairy announces, shifting his seat backward. "Wake me up when we're in Cali."

"We won't be there for another ten—"

Puck has already closed his eyes, poorly faking a snore. Jake huffs and presses his foot down on the gas pedal.

The wind is loud. The sky is clear. New Mexico is warm and red to match the setting sun.