Puck had been camped out in front of Finn's house since school had gotten out on Friday. It was now Saturday morning. Puck had known he had fucked up big time when he had done the nasty with Quinn and didn't have the balls to tell Finn to his face as soon as he'd woken up with a hang over and her pushing him off her bed, screaming at him like she'd been set on fire. Puck had just been lonely, and Quinn had talked sweet to him, and he couldn't even think straight any more, he just wanted someone to be with that night, even if it was her.
When Finn had found out, God did Puck feel like a douche. He knew that Finn didn't want anything to do with him. And even after Finn had beaten his ass in front of the entire Glee club, Puck still felt like he needed to explain himself - no, not explain himself, beg for forgiveness. Not that he thought he deserved it, or that Finn would give it to him.
Puck doubted that Finn would even give him a second to speak with out just beating his ass again. Again, not that Puck thought he deserved any better, but he had to try. When Puck's cell chirped again, telling him he had a text from Quinn, he deleted it without even reading it. Puck didn't want anything more to do with her, she wasn't pregnant, and she didn't want anything from him except a rebound or, at least something to keep her queen bee status up at school, and Puck couldn't care less about anything or anyone except for Finn at the moment.
Puck looked up towards Finn's house when he heard the front door open. Finn stepped on to the porch with a few bags of garbage, taking them to the side of the house to put them in the bins that were there. Puck took a deep breath, and without even thinking he swung open the door of his beat up truck and raced across the street.
"Finn!" Puck called, jogging up the driveway towards his former best friend.
The clumsy teen's face turned from confused to angry the moment he saw that it was Puck who'd called out to him. Puck faltered a bit, half way up the drive, but after he swallowed the painful lump in his throat, his legs were moving again, and he was walking towards where Finn was still standing on the side of the garage, one bag of garbage still clutched in one hand, and the lid to the garbage bin in the other. The look on the taller teen's face, one of pure hate.
"What are you doing here?" Finn spat bitterly and Puck flinched. Finn threw the bag in to the garbage bin, and Puck felt like that was what Finn wanted to do to him, throw him away like trash.
"I just wanted to talk." Puck said, stuffing his hands in to the pockets of his letterman's jacket.
"I have nothing to say to you dude." Finn growled, slamming down the lid on the garbage bin. "And I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth either Puckerman!" Finn shouted when Puck tried to object or plead or whatever it was he was trying to do. Finn walked around Puck, heading back towards the front door, but Puck followed him, grabbing the other jock's shoulder before he could even think about Finn's reaction.
Finn spun around and punched Puck hard in the jaw, sending the unsuspecting Jewish boy sprawling on to the ground. Puck stared up at Finn in shock, though he knew getting hit had been a possibility. "I trusted you!" Finn shouted, towering over Puck like a raging bull, his hands balled in to fists in front of him. "Why did you do it?" Finn demanded to know.
"I don't know." Puck mumbled, wiping the blood from his lip.
"Don't lie to me!" Finn snapped. "You don't do shit without a reason behind it Puckerman, no matter how stupid the fucking reason may be." Finn stepped a bit closer to Puck, who scooted back in a half crab walk scuttle movement. "Now tell me!" Finn made to reach down and grab Puck, most likely to hit him again, or strangle him. Puck didn't want to find out, so he caved.
"Because, I wanted you to notice me!" Puck half shouted, staring up at Finn like the terrified teenage boy that he was. Finn's brow furrowed and his hands fell limply to his sides. He was staring down at Puck like he was a complicated math problem he didn't understand.
"W-what?" Finn finally got out. Puck swallowed hard, looking away as he ran his hand over his mohawk with a shaking hand.
"I wanted you to notice me... not her." Puck answered.
"I noticed you, you were my best friend Puck." Finn replied, his words heavy with confusion.
Puck shook his head, and let his hand fall to the ground next to his leg. "Not like I wanted." Puck explained.
Finn sank on to the dying grass in front of Puck, who pulled his legs half way up to his chest, and Finn frowned, he doubted he'd ever seen Puck look so scared and upset since the day his dad left him, or after the first night one of his mom's drunk boyfriend's had beaten the crap out of him. Puck looked up at Finn who was still towering over him by a few inches.
Finn swore he saw tears in Puck's eyes, something he again hadn't seen in years. "What does that mean?" Finn asked.
The two teens were dead silent for the longest time, by then the early morning sun had gotten over the houses and was starting to warm them a bit.
"... It means that I love you." Puck answered, his voice barely a whisper.
