The first time Mike had met Matt, he had wondered why the dude was always so quiet. It had kind of freaked him out as a six-year-old. He recalled a miniature version of his friend sitting by the sandbox, staring very hard at a tree. Mike had walked up to him, curiousity piqued.

'Why are you staring at the tree?'

Matt had looked up with his deep-set eyes and blinked.

'Can you talk?' Mike asked, receiving the same blank stare.

'Yes.' Despite the childish lilt, Mike couldn't miss the deep baritone that would become more dominant when Matt's voice broke. Reflecting back, Mike thought that was when he knew this guy had gravitas.

'So why aren't you?'

Matt shrugged in response.

'You don't like to talk?' Mike pressed. Matt hesitated before nodding.

'That's weird.' Mike paused. 'But Batman doesn't really say much either.'

'Whose Batman?'

Mike had stared at Matt, jaw on the floor.

'Dude,' he'd drawn the word out, all incredulous.

That had been the start of a beautiful friendship.

Eleven years later and they were hunched down in the back of the choir room, watching Puck watch Rachel.

'Look at him man. It's like we've stepped into the Twilight Zone,' Mike murmured under his breath, loud enough for Matt to hear. A pause. 'Actually you know that saying about someone following you around like a lost puppy? That's what Puck reminds me of.'

'So the same way you look around Brit then,' Matt stated definitively.

'No, I don't!' Mike protested immediately. Just because he, like, made an effort to try and be around the blonde Cheerio didn't make him anything like Puck. That guy took angst to a whole other level. 'Puck looks like he stuck a fork in a toaster. I, on the other hand, look cool.'

'Potato, tomato,' Matt replied, lifting his shoulders.

'You think he digs Berry?' Mike enquired, peering at the small brunette who was engaged in what looked like an animated conversation with Mercedes.

Matt raised an eyebrow.

'Yeah, you're right,' Mike said. 'What am I saying. Of course he does.'

'Do you think he knows what he's doing? Like all that stalking-'

'He hangs around unobtrusively while sticking out like a guy with a mohawk,' Matt interrupted.

'Whatever. Point is, dude has got it bad,' Mike finished, flourishing a hand towards Puck. 'I mean, just look at him.'

'I have been since the last time you told me to,' Matt remarked dryly. 'Look, we both know how Puck is with feelings.'

'No chick flick moments,' Mike repeated, trying to mimic Puck and failing.

'Just let him stew. If you push him, he's just going to push back and deny it. The way to handle Puck is to let him think you don't know when you actually do know.'

'So we're just going to sit here and watch?' Mike sounded annoyed. 'I can't even change the channel. What if I want to vote him off the island? Or decide he isn't the perfect catch? Or-'

'Dude, shut up.'

Mike appeared affronted. 'Just because you can go through life like a silent movie…' he muttered, glaring at Matt who didn't seem to be bothered.

'Puck will figure it out,' Matt offered, which Mike thought was his way of placation. 'It'll be like the Blades of Athena striking him upside the head.'

'If he doesn't, we're going to have to like lend our power to the cause and go all Gaia on his ass,' Mike said, balling a fist and smacking it against his open palm.

'Kratos is god,' Matt finally said as they both observed Rachel seat herself next to Puck.

'Literally,' Mike whispered, raising his hand in a wave when Puck looked their way.

'You know what man? I'm glad you don't talk too much.'

'Why? Because you do?' Matt asked, folding his arms across his chest as his eyes tracked Santana's movement.

Mike considered this. 'Maybe. But think about it. If you hadn't been like Dumbo and not spoken, I never would have asked you why you were such a freak. Then this epic bromance wouldn't have existed.'

Mike furrowed his brow before continuing.

'You know what other Disney character never spoke? Dopey.'

Matt pushed Mike off his chair.