(Author's note: two important points that have been mentioned by caring, thoughtful readers. One is that it was brought to my attention that it is impossible for the passage about Noah to have been read during Hanukkah, because of the nature of the Jewish liturgical year. I appreciate the reader who mentioned this, because I will certainly use it when writing Rachel and Sarah (and Frances') visit to the synagogue coming up in Archer's Hand. I beg latitude from my knowledgeable readers to allow me this quirk in the story, just as I've conveniently juggled the AMAs to December in order to make the Archer's Hand timeline work.

Second, and I can't believe I missed this - Puck said in the last chapter that Glee went to nationals last year and that Adam could see them on Youtube. Well, NO, because there was no Glee, this being SEASON FRICKING ONE. Whoops. I'll have to rewrite that scene a bit. Thank you.

Enjoy Puck's return to the House of the Ampersand. -amy)


I think the whole magic of this moment is that I'm not alienating anybody. I'm not trying to anyway. I want as many people to feel like they can like the music. I don't want to edit myself to the point where I feel like I don't have integrity. But at the same time, I feel like I don't want to alienate people, so it's really hard. It's almost like being a political figure. It's like a balancing act. I feel really good about how open I've been, 'cause I really don't feel like I've hidden anything.

- Adam Lambert, OUT Magazine, November 2009


CHAPTER EIGHT

The truck was barely warmed up before he slid the CD into the player, settling the signed booklet on the dashboard, so Adam's ridiculous, sparkly picture was gazing dreamily out at him. "Hi," he said to the picture. "Have a good flight."

There was the sound of synthesizers, a driving beat - and then, even though he knew to expect it, he was a little shocked when he heard Adam's strong voice streaming out of the speakers:

http:/www. youtube. com/watch?v=N1Yy0yeMIVI

I want your body, mind, soul, et cetera
And one day you will see, you should give it to me
And I don't want anyone instead of you
Oh babe I'm going crazy, come on and give it to me
And I ain't never met nobody better
You're someone else's baby

I'm so sick of living for other people
Took meeting you to realize
I don't wanna lose ya, I wanna keep ya
Put your little hand in mine and look into my eyes, baby, eyes
Oh, you make me wanna listen to music again

The first song carried him across town, a smile firmly planted on his face. The second... the lyrics stopped him in his tracks. It was a good thing he was close to the shoulder, because he might have driven off the road otherwise. He pulled over in a hurry and sat there, shaking, eyes wide, as Adam fucking Topped him over the radio.

http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?vkHYb3GRgSWI

So hot out of the box
Can we pick up the pace
Turn it up, heat it up
I need to be entertained
Push the limit, are you with it?
Baby, don't be afraid
Imma hurt you real good, baby

Let's go, it's my show, baby, do what I say
Don't trip off the glitz that I'm gonna display
I told you, Imma hold ya down until you're amazed
Give it to ya til you're screamin' my name

No escaping when I start
Once I'm in I own your heart
There's no way to ring the alarm
So hold on until it's over

Do you know what you got into
Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do
'Cause it's about to get rough for you
I'm here for your entertainment
I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet
You thought an angel swept you off your feet
But I'm about to turn up the heat
I'm here for your entertainment

It's all right
You'll be fine
Baby, I'm in control
Take the pain
Take the pleasure
I'm the master of both
Close your eyes, not your mind
Let me into your soul
I'm gonna work it 'til you're totally blown

Do you like what you see?
Let me entertain you 'til you scream

"God," he moaned, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. He was sweating, and he couldn't catch his breath, and he was so hard he thought he might break. "Holy fuck."

He turned off the CD and sat in the silent truck, idling there, until he could be sure he could drive again. Then he called the House of the Ampersand.

"Hey," said Nicole, picking up. "You guys taking a break? I didn't expect to hear back from you this soon."

"He had to leave town," Puck said. "I'm coming back to your house. I need something to eat. And drink. A big drink. And somebody to sit with me and remind me I'm not insane."

"Sorry, no can do that last one," Nicole said cheerfully. "But I'll listen to you tell me all about your new guy. I've been watching videos of him on Youtube all night. Did you know he did an interview with OUT Magazine a couple weeks ago?" She sounded admiring. "Holy shit. He's incredible."

"You have no fucking idea," Puck said fervently. "I'll see you in ten minutes. And get your CD player ready."


Nicole and Daphne stayed with him for the hour it took to listen to the entire CD, from start to finish, Puck quivering through most of it, giving him comfort in the ways they knew best. They were mostly naked and entwined and breathless by the end.

"I liked that one about the aftermath," said Daphne, her blonde hair spread out over Puck's abdomen. She stroked his skin absently. "He sounded so sincere."

"He sang me that one," said Puck, and they both made appropriate exclaiming noises. "And the third one."

"I remember that one from the coffee shop," Nicole said, her arms around her bare knees. "Except the way he sang it there was more gentle. Here on the album he's almost angry."

"He never seemed angry with me." Puck thought of the one time Adam had, in the restaurant, when he'd mentioned his Ma's ultimatum. "Maybe a little protective."

"That goes with the territory," Daphne said, smiling up at him. "All that discipline, the rough sex, and not one iota of anger. Pretty amazing, when you think of it."

"No, no way," Puck said, propping himself up on his elbows. "Not angry. He was... nice. Like Kurt... but, uh. Calmer. And kinkier." He shivered. "To hear him talk about it, he didn't have any more experience than we did when we started. But he sure seemed like he did."

"Maybe he did that stuff, but it wasn't ever more than play, for him," Nicole pointed out. "A lot of people do that, you know. They don't live it - it's just another fun thing to try."

Puck nodded slowly. "He did say something about that. That it had just been a game, before. Hot, but something to put on and take off, like a costume. I... don't think I can do that."

"No, but sometimes you can do without it." Daphne crept up beside him until their noses were touching. "Sometimes it can just be two people, connecting."

"Or three," he said, with a grin, and kissed her.

"Sometimes you switch, right?" Nicole added. "You said, you and Kurt."

"Once." Puck remembered that afternoon with startling clarity, when Kurt's day had been so bad, and he and Finn had come home to find him alone and hurting. Finn had disciplined Kurt for running away, and then left him in Puck's hands. He remembered Kurt's need, how it had driven him. Puck had known what to do, had let it come from deep inside himself, the heat and the control. Over it all had been the desire to take care of Kurt, to make him feel loved, and to give him what he needed. "I don't know how often I'm going to want to do that, but it was pretty fucking awesome."

"So you understand what Adam gets out of it," she said.

"Sure. Of course." Hearing Adam's name, spoken on someone else's lips, was still a little raw, when he recalled the multitude of times he'd said it, whispered it, shouted it himself over the course of the weekend. He sighed heavily and leaned on Daphne's shoulder. "I guess it had been a while, since I really... let go. Finn and me, there was that lie, hovering between us for so long... and last week, with my Ma, and Sectionals, and everything... and being here with you this week, with Alex telling me to wait. I wonder..." He sat up suddenly. "Do you think Alex knew what was going to happen with Adam? You know, the way he knows things."

"Maybe," Daphne said, shrugging. "You could ask him when he gets home, but you know he doesn't always say."

Nicole crawled to the edge of the bed, and hesitated before snagging her laptop and bringing it up to Puck's lap. She and Daphne flanked him, leaning up against the headboard, the three of them looking at Nicole's screen with curiosity. "I'm not sure if you want to hear this," she said.

"That sounds a little freaky," Puck said. "What is it?"

"Adam singing an love song from the musical Finian's Rainbow," she said.

"Did he suck?" Daphne asked.

"No way," Puck said crossly, waiting impatiently for the video to load. "I'm sure he didn't."

"Just listen," said Nicole.

http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=DJYyqzUr6jU

It was a slide show of pictures. The first shot of a younger Adam, leaning in to the camera, made up pretty, felt like a blow to the stomach. "God," he groaned, hiding his eyes. But then he heard the voice coming out of the tinny speakers of Nicole's laptop, and he just tilted his head back and let it wash over him.

"That's... Adam?" Daphne said, awed.

"That's Adam," Nicole nodded.

"He's so sweet." Daphne was touching the screen, watching each smiling image of Adam go by, and Puck had to look away again in a hurry.

When Adam floated the high note, effortlessly, and made it go on forever, and ever, and - longer than forever, and then continued singing... and went on and held the next note... "How does he do that?" Nicole said, perplexed. "Does he have, like, an extra fucking lung?"

The last glistening sound of Adam's miraculous voice hung in the air. And then the applause of that long-ago audience reminded Puck that other people had already heard Adam sing that song, that thousands of people had heard him sing at shows, all his life - and that in a few hours, millions more would hear him performing live. For me, he thought, and for a minute he felt so dizzy that he wanted to sit down. Then he realized he was sitting down.

"There's more," said Nicole, and Puck whipped his head around to her in desperation. She raised her hands in mock defense. "What? He's had years and years of public performances, even before Idol. This one is him in Wicked, playing the male lead, opposite the Wicked Witch." Her grin was smug. "He plays a very convincing heterosexual, I must say."

http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=kHVskxMEuiw

Puck watched with undisguised fascination as Adam in stage makeup - no eyeliner, he thought, randomly, or barely any, at all - knelt on the stage in front of the green-skinned woman, giving her bedroom eyes and caressing her cheeks. And then he was singing, his voice carrying across the bad recording to touch Puck, digging under his skin, making him gasp. I'm going to watch this every fucking day, he thought, dazed.

"You haven't even seen him on Idol, have you?" Nicole said, shaking her head. "Here. I'm going to leave this with you. All the links are there on the side. It's going to take you a while." She slid out of bed and walked, naked, to the kitchen. "I'll get you some tea."

Puck hunched over the laptop, watching clip after clip until his back was stiff from sitting in that one overwhelmed position, drinking in the sight and sound of Adam laughing, talking, singing, competing. Even though he knew all those moments had happened months ago, just as the performances had, they hit him differently, cut deeper, because they were Adam's real life, and he was not part of them - and would still not be part of the ones in the future.

"Oh, KISS," Daphne exclaimed, listening to Adam sing a song called "Beth." "I loved this song."

"Huh," said Puck, listening. "I'll have to check it out. They're the guys with the crazy makeup, right?"

Eventually it all started to blur together, and Puck had to shut the laptop and take a deep breath. He stretched his stiff legs and set the laptop on the floor. "My god," he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Is there anything he can't do?"

"He seems like an amazing person," Daphne said.

"Yeah," he said. He curled up on the pillow next to her, feeling as far away from this place as he had when he'd approached it from the highway a week ago. "There's just so much about his life. Stuff that has nothing to do with me. All that American Idol, the theatre... his album..."

"Give him some time, honey," said Nicole. "I don't think you can expect to know all those things right away. You just met him yesterday."

Yesterday I think I was a different person. Puck lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if it was too early to call Adam, and if he wouldn't seem too much like a needy kid if he did. He glanced over at the clock. 6:20. "I think I need a nap," he said.

"I'll wake you up in time for the performance." Nicole reached over to take Daphne's hand and tugged her off the bed. "Sleep well." She turned off the light on her way out the door.

Puck lay there in the dark, thinking of his phone in his pocket, but he knew Adam would be rehearsing, setting up, talking with God knows who else. All the important people in his life. He picked up the CD case and examined it. Adam didn't even look like himself in that picture. What the hell did they do to his hair? he snorted.

"You're much hotter in person," he said to the picture.

Then he did lean over the bed and snag his jeans, pulling the phone out of his pocket, and brought up the picture that Tommy had taken of him and Adam. It was a little surprising to see the expression on his own face. I really can't show this to anyone, he thought with dismay. I look like a fucking lovesick puppy.

So then his phone was just right there, and he knew he wasn't going to get through, but he dialed the number Adam had given him anyway. The voice mail prompt was generic; no recorded voice of Adam telling him to leave a message. After the tone sounded, he paused for longer than he should have, and then finally cleared his throat. "Uh... hi. It's me. Noah?" The name sounded strange in his ears. "I'm... well, I was just watching some videos of you on Youtube. The ones you were telling me about, when you were in those musicals. I wanted you to know, you sounded good." God, this was worse than not calling. He felt himself getting more tense, hating his awkwardness, but he gritted his teeth and moved forward. "I hope things go well tonight. Uh, or maybe they already did, if you don't hear this message until... never mind. I, uh." He closed his eyes. "I miss you," he whispered.

He hung up, and threw his phone on the floor. "Fuck," he groaned.

Then he scrambled off the bed, searching in the dark for his phone again, and this time he called Kurt. He sat on his hand to keep himself from hanging up, repeating again and again: Don't hate me. Please don't hate me. Please...

There was a click, and a fumbling sound, and Kurt's gasping voice said, "N-Noah?"

God. I'm fucked. "It's me."

"I can't believe... are you okay?" Kurt was anxious, above all else. "Tell me you're okay."

"I'm okay," he said. "I'm... well, I'm a lot of things, but I'm okay."

"Your mother," said Kurt. "I'm so, so sorry."

The tightening in his stomach was not so awful as it had been. "Thanks. I'm dealing. You know she wasn't so much to me."

"That's not true. No matter what was going on between you, she's still your mother. I know what that's like to lose." Kurt's voice was raspy and broken. "I miss you so much. Please, can't you come home?"

Puck lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes. "It's a long way back to Ohio. But I'm starting on the road tomorrow. I'm not sure... not sure how long it'll take, but..." He fought against the desire to promise more than he could deliver. "A couple days."

He could hear Kurt's breathing, and he could almost feel him there in the dark next to him. "Thank you," he said. "It's been a hell of a week."

He choked out a laugh that was more like a sob. "Tell me about it."

"Talk to me. I just want to hear your voice. Please..." A frantic Kurt on the other end of the phone was just about the worst thing he could imagine, and he struggled to oblige.

"Uh. I went to see Toby. He was really nice. Did Mr. Schue tell you?"

"Yes - Toby sent us a text of you in Denver. That was... yes." Puck heard him sigh. "Where did you go after that?"

"Pretty much right from there to Santa Fe. I stopped at a few open mics along the way. Played a lot of guitar. Therapy, I guess." He realized there was one song he'd left for Kurt that he hadn't gotten feedback on. "Did you - the CD, did you...?"

"I haven't been listening to much else, Noah." Kurt sounded overcome. "That song... it's beautiful. You and Mercedes, the two of you - it just kills me."

"It's not supposed to hurt," he objected.

"Only in the best way," Kurt promised. "Yes, I love it, so much. Go on, please."

"Santa Fe. It's been... Nicole and Daphne and Alex have been taking good care of me. I mean, they've been really awesome, but Alex... he said I wasn't ready for... well, anything involving my ass. Nothing. I just wanted you to know that."

Kurt sighed. "The four of you - that's part of your history. I don't think... Noah, I've never asked you not to see them. I didn't figure it was my place. I'm not upset you're there. They understand, and they know you, and I think... I think they're good for you." It sounded like Kurt was figuring things out by saying them, so he just listened. "I don't feel bad about you spending time with Alex, or Daphne or Nicole."

Puck remembered how it had felt to open the door, after months of being away, and to see Daphne standing there, her arms open to him, her smile open and loving, without any kind of judgment - not that he'd ever expected it from her - and Nicole's heat and passion, and Alex's quiet, solid presence. Their home was just as comfortable as it ever had been, and he appreciated it more than he could express, the way they'd let him stay.

"I love them," he said. "I do."

"I know, sweetheart."

It was so good to hear that word from Kurt's lips; he just paused and let it wash over him for a moment. "They're not my home, though," he said. "I came looking for home, but I didn't find it with them."

Kurt caught his breath. "Did you - did you find it somewhere else?" he said, sounding a little strangled.

"No," he said. "Not exactly." He swallowed. "I met someone. A man."

There was a silence. "Okay," said Kurt softly. It was hard to tell what was happening on the other end of the phone, but he thought Kurt was crying. Puck cradled himself in one arm, hating what he was doing, and even in the same moment, feeling the Adam-shaped space in him longing to be filled. How can I do this to him? he thought. But the answer was clear. He had no choice.

"His name is Adam," he said. "I met him at a coffee shop in Santa Fe. He's a singer, a real one, like, professional. He knows everything about Alex, and Nicole and Daph, and you, and F-Finn." He stuttered over that last name; he was somewhat bemused he could get it out at all. "He - he took care of me. The way you and Finn do."

"He's a Top," Kurt said. The image of Adam taking Puck over his knee was vivid in his memory, right alongside Kurt doing the very same thing, and he had a rush of unbelievable love for both of them, so fresh and real that he could almost pick it up and hold it.

"Yes," he said. "Definitely. But not just that. He's - god, Kurt..." He held his breath.

"Just tell me, Noah," said Kurt, and the command was clear. "Don't hold back. Tell me everything. I want to hear it."

"I went back to his hotel with him," he said in a rush. "He put me in the corner and I told him everything, and he s-spanked me, and then we... we..."

"You had sex," Kurt said flatly.

"No," Puck protested. "We made love, baby. It was unbelievable." He shuddered a breath and wrapped his arm tighter around himself. "We fell in love, me and Adam. Just like that. It wasn't anything we intended to have happen, it just... did."

"Just like that." Kurt's voice was far away. Then he sighed. "I guess I get that. Go on."

"Uh... he took me to temple. He's Jewish. He made me say the Mourner's Kaddish... it's a prayer thingie, you're supposed to say it when someone... dies."

"How was that?"

"Weird," he said. "But good. I think it helped me. The rabbi... well, I'll tell you about that later. But it was, uh, enlightening."

"I'm glad, sweetheart. What else?"

"He sang to me. In the coffee shop, something from his album, and again at the hotel. I sang to him, too. He gave me a copy of the CD - it came out this week. I think... I think you might know who he is."

"Really?" said Kurt, startled. "How?"

"He's on TV tonight. The American Music Awards."

There was a pause. "Noah," Kurt said, a little desperately. "Tell me... tell me you don't mean Adam Lambert."

"Have you heard him sing?" Puck said. "I missed all that American Idol stuff, but I went back tonight and watched it on Youtube. He's pretty awesome."

"Noah," Kurt said again, louder, and Puck thought he could hear Burt in the background, saying, "Kurt, come on, sit down."

"He's just a guy, Kurt," he insisted. "I don't care about that stuff. He's just Adam." The name caught in his throat, and the next sound that came out was a wobbly groan.

"Sweetheart..." Kurt was breathing hard, and his voice was about half an octave higher than usual. "Adam Lambert?"

"At first, it was like, he reminded me of you," he said, and Kurt made a choking noise. "Uh, that's a compliment."

"I took it as one," Kurt sputtered. "How did you even... to his hotel room? He sang to you in the coffee shop? And you..." His voice dropped to the loudest whisper Puck had ever heard. "I didn't know he did that... stuff... like we do. And... he has a boyfriend!"

"No," said Puck, thinking of Drake glaring at him. "They broke up, like, last month."

"Really? Because they seemed so snuggly in those photos from..." Kurt cut himself off. "God. I am not gossiping about Adam Lambert with you."

"I don't think it counts as gossip if it's real."

"Real. This... this is real, Noah?" Kurt's voice was awed.

"Hell, you got a phone call from Lady Gaga," Puck pointed out. "What the fuck difference is there? Isn't this the least of our weird fucking life?"

"God." Kurt smothered a surprised laugh. In a completely normal, amused voice, he said, "I really miss you."

"I miss you, too. That's why I didn't call before. I didn't think I could handle talking to you. But being with Adam... he really helped me. I'm better. Things with Finn - I think I can deal with it now. I don't feel quite so guilty."

"Guilty?" Kurt sounded positively shocked. "Noah - you don't have anything to be guilty about! He's the one... god, you have no idea. He's been a wreck, he barely left his room for four days..." He heard a sound of protest. "Well, you didn't."

Puck sat straight up in the dark, his cheeks burning. "Finn... Finn's there? Has... you don't have me on speakerphone, do you?"

"No. But, sweetheart, we're all here. My dad and Carole and Sarah. Timothy's been here, on and off, too."

Puck just about passed out at the idea of Burt hearing Kurt talking about Puck's exploits with other people, but that feeling was eclipsed by the question that bubbled up inside him. "Why? Why are they all there?"

"We're all waiting for you to come home."

"Oh," he said. Now the guilt came down on him like an avalanche, and he cringed under its weight. "I'm sorry."

"I know you did what you felt like you had to do. And - I'm glad that... Adam... could help you. Mostly I'm relieved to hear you still want to come home."

He shook his head, back and forth, trying to shed the guilt. "Kurt... I don't know where home is. I left because I didn't have a place. Your house, Finn's house... I need a place for me. I just don't know how to find it."

"But you still want... me."

"Yes," he whispered, "God, yes. Every day. It killed me to leave you."

Kurt didn't sound convinced. "Even though you have... him? Seriously, Noah, how can I compete with Adam Lambert?"

"You don't have to." He heard Adam singing to him in his head, and he thought: Trusted, just trusted. He took a deep breath. "I think I love you more than before."

"Noah..." He heard Kurt's sob, and right then, it felt like if he couldn't touch him, that he would combust, just go up in flames right there. He struggled through it, listening to Kurt dealing with his anguish.

"I... I don't get it," Kurt choked out at last.

Puck struggled to put words to the feeling. "It's like... the new love, it makes all the other love I feel for you, and... and everybody, it makes it more. Like there's a fire inside me, and it blazes up higher when a new fire catches. It's not instead of. It's also." He sighed, hearing Kurt crying quiet, sniffling, and finally he blew his nose. "Don't you love me, and Finn, too?"

"Yes," Kurt said. "I still don't understand that, either. And Adam... is he okay, with you having... me?"

"He can't wait to meet you," he said, and Kurt let out a completely undignified squeal. "He signed his CD for you," he added, just to hear it again.

"I'm not going to hyperventilate," Kurt chanted. "Okay. This is... surreal doesn't begin to cover it. Just... if you come back ho... here, I think we can figure out the rest. Just come back."

"I will, baby," he promised.

The light in the hallway snapped on, and Nicole stuck her head in through the door. "You should come out now, sweetheart. It's starting, and I don't know when he's playing exactly." She cocked her head. "Who are you talking to?"

"Kurt," he said, holding up the phone, and her eyes lit up. She smiled at him and nodded approvingly. Then, to Kurt, he said, "Do you... do you want to stay on the phone with me while I watch the performance?"

"That would be... yes. I would. And I think, judging by her wild gesticulations, Sarah would like to talk to you."

"Okay," he said. He heard the shuffle of the phone being passed.

"You're the biggest pain in the ass brother ever," she complained. He grinned at the sound of her voice, pulling on his shorts. "Seriously. I think you broke Finn. He looks terrible. Nobody can do anything around here except whine about you. And what's this about Adam Lambert?"

"Hey, squirt," he said. "Yeah. I'm in love again. He's fucking incredible."

"You get all the boys." She snorted. "I'll be lucky if anyone even invites me to the winter dance."

"You're not old enough to be thinking about that shit," he objected, struggling into his shirt. "And any boy who tries, I'm going to kick his ass."

"Whatever, Noah. Do I need to kick your ass for hurting Kurt? You didn't do anything you shouldn't do, did you?"

"I think you have to ask Kurt that," he said, with another twinge. "I don't really know. It - it was just kind of impossible to do anything else."

"I guess love is like that. Tatenui looks like he's going to punch something, though. You're in for it."

"Who?" The Yiddish word meant father dear.

"Mr. Hummel," Sarah clarified. "You've got your own catching up to do. A whole fucking week with no phone calls? Dude." Then, at Burt's "Language, Sarah," she added, "Sorry. I can't say the f-word anymore."

"Good fucking luck with that," Puck said, feeling a little lost. Nicole and Daphne were sitting on the couch in their postage stamp-sized family room, holding a bowl of popcorn. Nicole indicated the space between them, and he settled inside. "You're gonna watch this American Music Awards, too?"

"Uh, yeah," she said, with great scorn. "Lady Gaga's performing. You want to talk to Tatenui?"

"I don't know if he wants to talk to me," Puck said nervously, but apparently the phone was already being passed.

"Puck," said Burt, and it was like a warning.

"I'm sorry," he said right away.

"You've got a lot to answer for," Burt growled. "How many times do you think we're going to have to have this conversation?"

"Uh… a lot?" He cringed a little, imagining how much worse it was going to be when he set foot through Kurt's door. "Seriously, Burt… I've always been a fuck-up."

"I'm not talking about that," he said impatiently. "Puck, I don't care how many times you mess up. That's what humans do. It's just part of life. I'm talking about this business about more people. Do you think I have endless room in this damn house? Is this becoming the Hummel Home for Angsty Lovestruck Boys?"

"Oh." Puck clapped a hand to his mouth, holding back the hysterical laughter that threatened to break loose. Daphne laid her head on his shoulder, pulling him closer. He closed his eyes and waited for his heart to stop leaping around.

"Puck," Burt said, more gently. "Nobody is mad at you. Nobody."

"Why not?" he said, hearing the whine in his own voice, and hating it. "I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again."

"I know that's what Finn said, but that's not how things are now. We all miss you and want you to come home. That's step one. Step two is up to all of us to decide."

"All of us?" he said, that weak, small tone persisting. Nicole kissed his cheek, holding tight to his other arm.

"Yes," said Burt, firmly. "All of us. Now who the heck is this Adam character? Because I think Kurt's about to burst into song or something, he looks so excited."

Puck had the feeling that Adam was not going to be the sort of guy that fathers liked much. And yet, he also knew that Burt Hummel was not an ordinary father, and with a son like Kurt… "He's a musician. He was on American Idol last year."

"No kidding?" Burt sounded grudgingly impressed. "Boy, you do get around, don't you?"

"I don't mean to," Puck protested, but Burt was chuckling.

"Well, I guess you can tell me all about him when you get home, huh? You going to make it in time for Christmas? I know you don't celebrate that, but…"

"Yeah," he said. "I'll be back by then, for sure. I – I don't know where I'm going to stay, though. I'm trying to figure it out."

"Okay," Burt said. "You've got time to think about it. We've got a lot to talk about. Drive safe, okay? No stupid stunts. You pull over and sleep when you get tired."

"I will." Adam's face flashed across the television screen suddenly, just a brief shot of him smiling and talking to someone, and Puck felt a jolt of adrenaline. "Thanks, Burt."

"We'll see you soon. Here's Carole."

More shuffling, and then he heard Finn's mom's calm voice was there, saying, "Puck – are you okay?"

"A lot better now," he said truthfully. "You know what happened?"

"Finn told me all of it. Or – I think all of it." She sounded almost amused, and Puck relaxed a little more. "He's giving me the evil eye, so I'm guessing there's parts I'll never know. That's the way it goes, when you're the parent."

"Yeah," he said. "I guess I'll learn that, someday."

"I guess you will," she said. "When's the baby due?"

"End of May." He thought of Quinn, staying at Brittany's, and wondered if she was having the same feelings about not having a home. He didn't want to make a home with her, but the baby would be hers, too, no matter what. She's part of this family, too, kind of. He figured Carole, of all people, might understand the next thing he was going to say, so he just went ahead and said it. "I can't wait to meet her."

"I remember that feeling when I was pregnant," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "There's a lot of questions I have, but I can wait until you get back to talk about it. We all want to help, Puck."

He hesitated. "What about Finn?"

"He's hurting." She was matter-of-fact. "I don't think it's going to be easy, but – Puck, the two of you have been friends for too long for this to be the end of everything. I'm sure you can work through it."

"It's more complicated than that," he said. Adam appeared on the screen again, sitting with Tommy, who had on even more makeup than Adam. Nicole pointed, nudging Daphne, and they chattered over him about Adam's clothes and hair. He rolled his eyes. Yeah. Complicated is the word.

"It's always more complicated, the older you get. Part of the joys of adulthood. You're taking it on a little earlier than most young men do, but I know you're choosing it. That's important."

"You think I can do it?"

"I think you will, no matter how hard it gets. Because a daughter, that's not something you can run away from. Finn and Kurt, they're not happy without you, but they're coping. Your daughter - she's going to need you, in a very real way."

"I know," he said. "I just – I hope it's okay for me to need things, sometimes, too."

"Of course it is." She paused for a moment, talking to someone, making insistent noises. "Just say hello," she was saying. Then, to Puck: "Here's Finn."

"What? No, I –" He heard him say "I can't," and Carole say firmly, "Yes, you can."

And then, it was Finn's voice, Finn's voice, on the phone. "Hi," he said.

Puck was struck dumb, hearing his own breath rattle in his throat. "What is it?" Daphne said, watching him with concern.

"Finn," he croaked, and that was all he could get out. She squeezed his arm.

Finn's voice was reluctant. "My mom wants me to tell you that I – that you should come home."

"That's not my home," Puck said. "That's why I left."

They were both silent again. "I'm not going to tell him that," Finn said to Carole, angrily.

"You don't have to say anything," Puck snapped. "Don't bother. You said plenty already."

"Yeah, and why should I believe a word you say," Finn shot back. "Seems like you can lie to me whenever you feel like it."

"I'm done with that," he said. "Adam –"

"Don't," Finn choked, "don't tell me about him. I can't hear it – I can't." Then he was gone.

"Noah," said Kurt over the phone, and Puck could hear the same pain in his voice that he was feeling. He wanted to hang up, to run in the other room, to bury his head in his arms and never come out... but instead he gripped Nicole's offered hand, and took a deep breath. He heard Kurt's soft sigh. "Carole followed him."

"He's scared," Puck said. "And guilty. I know. He needs – he needs what I got. Kurt, you have to give it to him. You have to help him. Please. Nobody else is going to understand this except us, and if he doesn't get it, he's just – he's going to go crazy. You know it."

"I – Noah," Kurt said, hesitating. "He's already gone to see Dr. Howell. He's seen him a couple times."

"That's good," he said. "Okay." He sighed. "Maybe I should go."

"No," Kurt said, quickly. "Just… stay on the phone. We don't have to talk about anything. I just want you here with me."

"Baby," he said, and heard the hitch in Kurt's breath. "Yeah… okay. I'll stay."

It was mostly quiet after that, apart from Kurt's snarky commentary about everybody's outfits. It was comforting; it felt so familiar and homey. Kurt moaned as Taylor Swift won the pop/rock female vocal award over Beyonce and Lady Gaga. Alicia Keys sang "New York, New York." Michael Jackson won posthumously for soul/R&B. Rihanna performed "Hard" ("Is she wearing stripy long underwear?"). Carrie Underwood did what Puck thought was a pretty ass-kicking number. Lady Gaga set her piano on fire in the middle of "Speechless," which was a little weird, but Kurt approved of the dancers during "Bad Romance."

"Are you sure he's going to be on?" he heard Sarah say.

"The announcer said at the end," Kurt said. "It's only halfway done."

J-Lo and Whitney Houston did showy performances that made Puck yawn. ("Another award for Taylor Swift?" Kurt sighed.) Another for Michael Jackson. More Alicia Keys. Timbaland came on while Puck took a trip to the john, thinking, it's not his music I care about. It's him.

"We totally need to do that 21 Guns song by Green Day," Nicole said when he came back. Puck settled on the floor this time, and Daphne rubbed his shoulders as he waited, phone to his ear.

"Have you been having any more of those dreams – about… your daughter?" Kurt asked.

My daughter. He had to smile. "Some," he said. "Sometimes she's a little toddler, and sometimes she's older, like, four. I don't always get to hear her voice. Every now and then."

"I wonder if she'll really sound like that, someday," said Kurt. "By the time we graduate from high school, she'll be talking."

"By the time you graduate, you mean," he said.

"What do you…" Kurt sounded confused for a moment. Then he made a noise of outrage. "Noah… you can't drop out of school."

"I've got to make money, and I've got to take care of her." He leaned his elbows on his knees. "You got some other way for me to do those two things?"

There was a pause. "Deal with this when he gets back," Burt was saying from the other room. "Don't try to solve this tonight. He's exhausted."

It was true; Puck was exhausted, his head drooping, but he wasn't going to miss Adam for anything. "Maybe Miss P. will have an idea," he murmured, closing his eyes just for a second.

He half-listened to Kurt complaining to Sarah about Taylor Swift winning Artist of the Year, but the mention of Adam's name on the television caught his attention. The glowing ten-foot words reading ADAM LAMBERT flashed across the screen. Puck felt the crawling tension in his gut.

"He's on," Daphne said with excitement. "I'm so nervous, and I've never even met him!"

http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=UP4lnWqQ-oA - definitely watch this one if you haven't seen Adam's performance at the AMAs!

Adam's voice drifted from the speakers, and there he was, sitting on a stool in the center of the stage, in his grey suit, makeup heavy and hair spiked up.

"What is that thing on his shoulder?" Kurt wondered. "It looks like a robotic hedgehog."

Puck listened as Adam's high note broke, and they went into the full stage performance of the song that had affected him so completely in the car. "I can't believe they're letting him do this song," Nicole said. "It's totally over the top."

"That's Adam," Puck said.

"Is he walking that guy across the stage on a leash?" he heard Sarah demand, and Puck felt his entire face flush as Adam pulled the dancer's face into his fucking crotch.

"Oh my god," Kurt said mildly.

"Is Burt watching this?" Puck said. He couldn't look away.

"No, he's in the other room. Oooh." Kurt winced. "That note was a little sharp… and that one. Aaaand that one was flat."

Puck was riveted to the screen as Adam stroked, enticed and subdued his leather-clad dancers, strutting around the stage. Every time he put his hands on another person, Puck shivered.

"That's Tommy," he said to Kurt on the phone, "his bassist. I think they might be lovers."

"What makes you – oh." He heard Kurt make a little throaty noise as Adam cupped Tommy's head and gave him a deep, full-tongue kiss. "Well."

"That wasn't why," Puck noted, fascinated. "It was just that Tommy was pretty grumpy around me. I didn't expect he was going to do that."

The performance wound down amid silence, and Daphne pressed mute on the television. "Well," she said, "it was groundbreaking, that's for sure."

"Hmm," said Nicole, watching Puck. "What did you think?"

"Bad," said Puck flatly. "He was just bad. The choreography was awkward, the effects were overblown and he sounded like… like he hadn't gotten nearly enough s-sleep the night before." And then he was crying, burying his face into Nicole's neck.

"Oh… sweetheart," Kurt said over the phone, and he sighed heavily.

"He wasn't that bad, said Nicole, worried, retrieving the phone from Puck's loose hand.

"No," he heard Kurt say. "Noah's missing him. I can tell. And Adam Lambert is typically an excellent performer. Something was definitely off tonight." He sighed unhappily. "I bet he's missing you, too."

Puck just cried harder, because here he was on the couch with his two beautiful lovers, and he had Kurt on the phone, after a week of not talking to him - and all he wanted to do was jump in his truck and drive all night to LA, to be with Adam.

"I'm going to put him to bed," said Daphne. "Tell Kurt he'll call him in the morning."

But Puck clutched for the phone as Daphne helped him get up and led him away. "Baby," he said. "I'm sorry. You deserve better than this."

"I want you," Kurt said. "It doesn't matter what I deserve. Thank you for calling. Get some sleep, and call me tomorrow before you head out."

"Okay," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Love you." But Kurt had already disconnected the call.


The flashing of the lights
It might feel so good
But I got you stuck on my mind, yeah
The flashing and the stage, it might get me high
But it don't mean a thing tonight

- Adam Lambert, "If I Had You"