Title: Can't Start A Fire (Without a Spark)
Author: Fatebegins (http:/ fatebegins .livejournal .com/)
Rating: NC-17 / M
Pairing: Puck/Kurt (Purt/Puckurt). Characters: Ryan Atwood, Mike Chang, Finn Hudson, Mercedes Jones, Quinn Fabray..many more.
Summary: Puck is a firefighter and saves Kurt from a burning building, he's instantly drawn to the soprano and knows that somehow, someway, he's going to make him his "wife".
Disclaimer: No Glee don't belong to me or to fatebegins, this history is not mine! But I have permission to post it here! (The original post: http:/ fatebegins .livejournal .com/16424 .html)
Warning: AU, MPREG.
Review? Please? *puppy eyes*
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Puck's first view of Lima, Ohio was unimpressive. When he and Kurt got off the plane and into the airport the town looked like any other random bumblefuck, USA he'd ever seen or heard about. It was all green grass and cute little houses. A stray dog was peeing on the lawn when they stepped into their rental car. Puck grinned, so this place did have some similarities with the big apple.
"Remember," Kurt was saying. "You're going to tell my dad I'm not feeling well and he'll check on me but I'll be under the covers. And this," He motioned to his protruding stomach, "Will be hidden." He munched happily on a granola bar, savoring his treat before he swallowed. "So when you two go fishing you have to tell him, otherwise it's going to become very obvious when he gets home and sees me."
Puck stared at him. "You do realize your old man is going to kill me, tie cement blocks around my ankles and dump me in the fucking river don't you?"
Kurt giggled. "Don't be such a worry wart. You'll be fine." He brushed away crumbs from his lap. "My Dad loves you; you have nothing to worry about."
"Your dad called last week and when I answered your phone he said 'Noah who? I thought you two would've broken up by now'."
"That's just his raw sense of humor." Kurt explained.
"He asked me if I was enjoying the nightlife."
"He was curious about the city."
"He basically accused me of being an alcoholic in training."
"Again, he was trying to make a joke," Kurt peered out the window, gazing at the restaurants they passed. "Babe?"
"Hm?' Puck was focused on his GPS's voice telling him to turn right in three miles otherwise he would have heard that tone of Kurt's; the one he used when he was going to ask for something inconvenient, but Puck was focused on his directions. Kurt was horrible at giving directions. The guy knew where he was going but tended to tell Puck when to turn only after they had passed the exit or just as they were about to pass it. After numerous near fatal collisions Puck decided the safer option was to stick with his automated system.
"You think we can stop somewhere before we go to my house? I'm starving."
Puck struggled not to remind Kurt that he had eaten at the airport. Kurt may not remember his fare but Puck's wallet sure did. Damn airport food. "Drive thru?"
"No," Kurt shook his head. "I want to go to the Olive Garden. I've been dying for some shrimp linguini alfredo." He clapped his hands in remembrance. "Oh! And those bread sticks, I want like six of those, they taste so good! So buttery and warm and garlicky."
"Garlicky?" Puck winced. "We have to meet your Dad in two hours. Don't you want to be safely out of sight and in bed before he comes home? In case he comes home early?"
"No," Kurt pouted. His gaze was turning mutinous and Puck knew he'd have to give in. Kurt was set to two speeds lately, brilliantly happy and fucking pissed. "I want to eat now because I feel like my stomach is going to eat itself and our baby if I don't feed it soon!"
"Okay, okay." Puck punched in the appropriate destination into his GPS after searching for the nearest Olive Garden, which just happened to be fifteen minutes out of their way. He made a u-turn in a shopping plaza. The things you do for the person you love, he thought as he crossed over double lines, this was definitely fucking illegal.
*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*
"So Puke, have-"
"It's Puck." Puck corrected Burt tiredly. The older man had been calling him Puke since they set sail. Puck was starting to think he was doing it on purpose. No shit. His mind chimed.
"Your last name ain't Pukeman?"
"No." Puck looked at the bright blue sky and the dark bodies of birds silhouetted against it. Ordinarily, he could be a big nature guy, having a best friend who went hiking practically every weekend had taught Puck to appreciate the simple beauty of the outdoors. To breathe in deep and feel the difference of the natural world as compared to the smoggy city he called home. Ordinarily, Puck thought he would have thoroughly enjoyed this trip, but Burt had seemed to revert back to his grumpier self - a snarky updated version that made fun of him - but still an asshole. Puck didn't think he would ever find the right place to work the sentence 'I got your son pregnant' into their non existent friendly conversation.
"Well, I was never any really god at names." Burt shrugged, but kept his line steady.
"Sure you weren't." Puck muttered.
Burt cast him a smug look and then his line jumped. The older man got to his feet with the practiced ease of a fisherman and slowly but surely reeled in his catch. A big, silver fish wriggled at the end of the line and Puck watch in amazement as Burt grasped the wriggling body firmly and threw it on the deck.
"Aren't you going to throw it back?" Puck watched the fish flop helplessly.
"Nope, going to eat fried fish tonight," Burt's eyes narrowed. "What? Don't tell me you're one of those PEPA activists. You think I hurt the fish's feelings?"
"First of all it's PETA," Puck glared. "And second, it was just a question."
"Go pack it away in the cooler." Burt commanded, already recasting his line. "I don't think you'll be catching anything today so I'll just take over."
Puck could feel Burt's eyes on him as he reluctantly picked up the wheezing fish, jumping when it gave one last hard thrash before it died. Somberly, he threw it into the cooler and poured ice over it. Rest in peace, Flipper, he thought and then smirked at his own cleverness.
"You know, Pukeman, all of this fishing gets me thinking about things."
It's fucking Puckerman you stupid old bastard Puck shouted inwardly but didn't rise to the bait. "Thinking about what?"
"You've been with my boy how long now? Nine months and then some," Puck was a bit startled at his accuracy and nodded. " And you can't even catch a fish."
"Who gives a fu-" Puck stopped himself. "I'm aware of my fishing limitations."
"What if Kurt was waiting at home, nothing to eat, depending on you bringing home fish for dinner?" Burt reached into his smaller cooler and took out a beer. "My boy would have gone hungry tonight."
Puck rolled his eyes. He could see where Kurt had inherited his melodrama. "I would have just taken him out to eat."
"That's not the point." Burt took a long pull from his beer bottle and the fact that Burt didn't offer Puck one wasn't lost on him.
"I'm a fireman." Puck enunciated as if he were speaking to a small child. "Not a fisherman."
"That's the bit that worries me." Burt sighed, adjusting the rim of his ball cap. "My boy has had it tough growing up, and I know you city people don't have sympathy for the poor little rich boy story, but that story is true and it's his. I may have given him everything he wanted but he never had the one thing he wanted most and that was acceptance."
"Burt, I know about all this-"
"You don't know squat, boy! I was the one who was there every trip to the emergency room; I'm the one who broke out the first aid kit and bandages, not you." Burt's gaze was fixed solely on the horizon, not bothering to look at the younger man next to him. "Kurt, no matter how bad he got it, insisted he would go back to school… I wanted to home school him, hire a tutor, anything." He sighed. "But with Ryan sick, and paying for a specialist, the insurance not covering him…well, even King Midas would've felt the hole in my wallet." He paused, took another gulp of beer. "I used to think that Kurt was strong, I was proud of him for going back day after day even with the bullying - I thought it made him more of a man to face his aggressors. I was wrong. I should have seen that going to that school left him with more scars on the inside that could never be healed than the ones the outside. The ones that faded. I should've been there, and known what it was doing to him. I can't change the past now, but I can change the future."
"Now, I'll be there." Puck stated firmly. "You have my word I won't leave or hurt your son."
"You can't promise that." Burt spat.
"Yes, I can." Puck shifted uncomfortably on his chair, he had never discussed such private feelings with a stranger before. He felt like a wuss but he felt like Burt needed to know how deep his feelings ran for Kurt. "Because I love your son ."
Burt snorted. "You think you can protect him with all that fru fru pink love shit? That frilly words like that will comfort him when you don't come home?" Burt laughed humorlessly. "Face the facts, Puckerman, you're a fireman. Every time that alarm sounds you don't know if you're coming back. Kurt doesn't know if you're coming back." Puck stayed silent; he had nothing to say because it was true. Burt sighed. "Listen kid, I don't have anything against you; hell, I kind of like you - any man who could put up with the shit I've thrown at you all day and not try and deck me because he cares for my son is a good guy. But…Kurt, when he does settle down, I need him to have someone he can depend on. He needs that."
"He can depend on me."
"I don't think so." There was a note of sadness in Burt's voice.
Puck glared at the beer bottle in Burt's fingers, watched the fat drops of condensation roll down the brown glass as the anger built inside of him. He got to his feet and stomped over to the railing, adrenaline coursing through his veins, he turned to face the other man. "Kurt and I are getting married."
"What in the Hell!" Burt dropped his line, jumping to his feet. "Over your dead body!"
"We're having a baby." Puck might as well put it all out there. The silence that followed was swift. Burt stared at him, his mouth pressing into a thin line.
"What did you just say?" Burt took a couple of steps forward and Puck faltered. He could kick this guy's ass hands down, but then he'd have to go home to Kurt and explain. Puck deliberately relaxed his body. He'd let the old man swing first, maybe even a second or a third and then he'd stomp him.
"I said that Kurt and I, we're getting married and having a baby." Puck held his ground stubbornly even as Burt came to stand in front of him, nose to nose. "So whatever disrespectful bullshit you have to say about me, it doesn't matter."
Burt looked at Puck for a moment, his head cocked to one side, his eyes squinting gravely and then slowly grinned. It was not the friendly smiles of performers but the eerie carved grins of jack o lanterns. Puck had about two seconds to consider this before Burt lunged at him. He held still, bracing himself for the punch, but it never came. Instead, in a quick move that took Puck by surprise, Burt hoisted him against his chest and tossed him overboard.
Puck came up sputtering and choking on the salty water, gasping to get his breath after swallowing a mouthful of dirty water. He shook his head, sending water droplets flying in all directions. "FUCKING HELL, BURT!" He yelled, outraged.
Burt stared down at him from the railing, looking very pleased with himself.
"What if I couldn't swim?" Puck yelled up at him, he slapped at the water in frustration. "You crazy bastard, you could've killed me!"
"If I wanted to kill you Puckerman, you'd be dead." Burt considered him for a moment. "Now quit being a baby and grab on to the lifesaver."
Puck trod water, thinking furiously. When he got back on board he was going to kill that bastard, Kurt's beloved Dad or not. "Burt! So throw the fucking lifesaver down."
Burt disappeared and came back, dragging his lawn chair behind him. He sat down heavily and peered down at Puck. "In due time, Puckerman; for now I've got some fishing to do."
*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*
Kurt was waiting nervously in the living room, filing his nails, stopping every few minutes to pull back the curtains and stare at the empty street. Kurt hoped the talk was going well, he really didn't think he could handle having his Dad and Noah at odds. Especially now, he smoothed his hand down his bump, obvious in the linen sheath he had changed into, it was important for them all to get along. Kurt was just about to get a snack in the kitchen when he heard the sound of his dad's truck turning into the driveway. He leapt up and opened the door excitedly.
Noah was exiting from the truck bed and Kurt furrowed his brows in confusion, why would he be sitting in the - oh my god he was wet and covered in seaweed and other random plant life. He also looked furious and miserable.
Kurt turned to his dad, jaw clenched, crying, "What happened?"
Burt looked down at Kurt's burgeoning belly disbelievingly. "I think I could ask you the same thing."
Kurt crossed his arms defensively. "What did you do to him?"
Burt shouldered his way past Kurt into the house. He shrugged, shucking off his boots. "Not my fault if the boy couldn't find his sea legs and went overboard."
"Noah, are you okay?" Kurt brushed off the random green plants hastily. "I'm so sorry."
Puck shied away. "It's fine, Kurt. You had nothing to do with this."
"You can't be thinking about marrying this boy, Kurt." Burt watched them through narrowed eyes. "He's all wrong for you."
"Dad! We're getting married okay?" Kurt declared. "You can't just go around dumping my fiancé overboard like some crazy person!"
"Fiancé is it now?" Burt sneered. "Funny, I thought any decent man, a proper gentleman, would ask the father first for permission."
"He is a gentleman dad! You refuse to even try and get to know him!" Kurt's voice was rising and Puck placed an arm around him comfortingly. "Since day one you have been this horrid version of yourself! And I let you act that way because I thought you were just a concerned father, but now I see you're just an overbearing dick!"
"You watch your mouth!" Burt took a warning step forward. "Don't think for a second I'll let you speak to me that way."
"Oh what are you going to do, spank me?" Kurt taunted. "Leave the dramatics to me, Father. You don't have the presence to pull them off!"
"Hey," Puck rubbed his back. "Calm down, okay? All of this stress isn't good for the baby." On impulse he let his hand settle on top of Kurt's stomach, stroking it gently. Burt followed the movement his eyes going wide. He'd momentarily forgotten the real issue at hand and was now smacked in the face with a brutal reminder.
"Kurt, how in the hell are you pregnant?" Burt bellowed seeing red over Puck's concerned ministrations to his son.
Kurt put both hands on his hips. "Well, I didn't think I'd have to explain to you the mechanics of sex but I'll gladly give it a try!"
"I know how," Burt shuddered then shook the mental image away quickly. "I meant, how in the hell could you be so stupid?"
Kurt gasped, inhaling sharply. The words hurt him more than he ever thought possible. His father didn't want his grandchild, didn't accept the man he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was too much. He could feel the tears welling up before they spilled out of his eyes. His stomach roiled unpleasantly. With a sob, Kurt pulled away from Puck and dashed up the stairs into the guest bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him. Kurt felt so pitiful as he sank to the tiled floor, hot tears rushing down his face, and then he felt…sick? He scrambled on his knees to hunch over the toilet. The first heave hit him immediately and he vomited his lunch into the basin. His head spun as he was racked by several dry heaves. The baby obviously did not appreciate the fighting. His morning sickness was back with a vengeance.
There was a knock on the door and Kurt tensed. He was in no shape for round two with his father. Kurt moaned pitifully at the sound of Puck's questioning voice on the other side.
"Noah." Kurt croaked and the door immediately swung open. Kurt closed his eyes against another bout of nausea. He heard Noah's hurried footsteps to him.
"It's okay." Puck sank to his knees automatically behind Kurt; he blanketed the smaller man's back as he rubbed Kurt's shoulders soothingly. "Breath in and out, slowly okay baby? Deep breaths; in through your nose, out through your mouth." This wasn't the first time Kurt had suffered like this.
Kurt nodded sluggishly, breathing in measured intakes like Puck was, his own breathing pattern following the older mans.
Puck flushed the toilet, eliminating most of the mess.
"I'm gross." Kurt said pitifully, tears still leaking from the corners of his eyes. His mouth felt sour and gritty and his nausea was not letting up anytime soon. Once, at Puck's apartment Kurt had camped in front of the toilet for almost an hour. Puck had come in with a blanket, wrapping them both in it, and had brought ginger tea while Kurt battled the worst of the nausea and vomited.
"Shh. You're beautiful." Puck stroked the damp hair at Kurt's temple, he could feel the slender body tensing, knew that Kurt was going to heave soon.
"What's…?" Burt said from the doorway. He looked uncomfortable.
Kurt shook his head against the edge of the bowl. "Make him leave…I can't …" He whispered weakly.
"Just go, Burt." Puck said. Burt looked like he was going to protest, took a step forward. "For now," Puck amended. "Just go for now."
The older man nodded, casting one last look at his son bent over the toilet before going downstairs despondently.
*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*
Puck turned the light on in the kitchen and jumped. Burt was sitting at the polished table, a mug of coffee in his hands. He wondered what the older man was sitting in the dark. Puck walked over to the little jars lined up against the counter top and began lifting the lids one by one.
"You know, if you're looking for something, you could just ask me where it is." Burt said dryly, staring down at his cold coffee.
Puck eyed him suspiciously. "I was looking for ginger tea or chamomile. It, um, calms Kurt's stomach."
"How's he doing?"
"He's in bed now, not so nauseous anymore but he feels weak." Puck shifted uncomfortably. "So which jar?"
"Seventh one down should have chamomile."
"Thanks." Puck mumbled, quickly filling the tea pot with water and setting it on the ceramic stove top.
Burt looked away. "The guest room or his bedroom?"
"The guest." Puck responded flatly, he didn't care if Burt was angry the Kurt was in his bed.
"I'm not an asshole, Puck." Burt said suddenly.
"Alright," Puck gazed at the metal pot, hoping against hope that it would start whistling soon.
"Or a dick."
"You threw me overboard, Burt." Puck shook his head in amazement. "Who the fuck does that?"
"An angry father does that, Puck." Burt answered solemnly. "And I have a feeling you'd do worse if some guy does that to your child."
Puck thought about that, selecting Kurt's favored mug and depositing the tea bag inside, draping the string over the rim. "Still…"
"I'm not excusing what I did, both at the dock and at home with Kurt. Had reasons…stupid but well intentioned reasons…" His fingers clenched on the mug and he met Puck's incredulous eyes. "But when I'm wrong I say I'm wrong."
That had to be the most roundabout apology Puck had ever heard in his whole life but looking at the older man now, seeing the stress lines in his face and the red eyes, he knew it was the closest thing to an apology Burt Hummel had ever given in his entire life.
"Apology accepted, Burt."
"That's it?"
"Sure." Puck shrugged. "You're my kid's grandfather. What kind of dad would I be if I held a grudge?" He came beside the table, leaning back against the marble countertop of the island. "Besides, I learned a long time ago that holding grudges gets you nowhere and gives you a lot of shit."
"Wise words." Burt said.
The pot whistled and Puck pushed away from the counter to pour the boiling water into the cup, on top of the tea bag.
"You think he'll maybe want to see me?" Burt asked hopefully.
Puck hesitated and then smiled resolutely. "Sure." He extended the steaming cup to Burt. "I've got to take a shower anyway." His clothes had partially dried in a salty, caked mess.
Burt took the cup, his eyes glowing amused. " Thanks, Pukeman." He grinned at Puck.
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The room was dim when Burt pushed open the door, the shades drawn against the dying sunlight. He immediately made out a huddled shape under the bed sheets. Kurt stirred when he heard the door open, turning gingerly, "Noah…" His voice faded when he saw his father standing at the foot of the bed instead.
"I brought you some chamomile tea." He held out the cup but Kurt made no move to take it, just continued staring up at him. "Your fiancé says it helps calm your stomach."
Kurt accepted the peace offering, taking the cup between his trembling hands as he propped himself up on the bed.
Burt sat down on the desk chair wearily. He watched Kurt take tentative sips for a few moments. "I guess I have some explaining to do."
"Why do you hate him?" Kurt asked. It pained him to even say it but Burt's dislike of Noah had become obvious, even to him.
"I don't hate him, Kurt, I actually like him. He reminds me of myself in my day. Full of gumption and determination. I like that he can control his anger." Burt chuckled. "Which is more than I could say of myself when I was his age. I would've knocked me flat on my ass if I was him by now."
"He wouldn't do that." Kurt said softly, fingers playing across the bedspread. "He knows how important you are to me."
"I, unfortunately, didn't show him the same consideration."
"Why?"
"Because I'm a dick."
Kurt flushed, reminded of his earlier outburst. "Dad, I didn't mean that-"
"No. You're right Kurt. I am – was - a dick. I was so scared of the past that I let it get in the way of your future."
"Past?" Kurt was confused. "What do you mean?"
"You were young, Kurt, you don't remember your mom much and that's okay. But when she died, I felt like a part of me had died as well. It's the worst kind of pain, losing someone you love so young."
Understanding dawned. "You don't want me to go through the same thing?"
Burt shook his head, rubbing over his face tiredly. "The minute I heard your voice over the phone, the excitement and the little bit of fear, I knew that you had fallen in love. That's not an easy thing for a father to accept but when I found out what Noah did for a living… it's dangerous Kurt, but you have to know that I was just worried about you."
"No one can predict the future, Dad. I could die in two hours." Kurt stopped Burt's protests. "Yes, I know Noah has a dangerous job but he loves it, dad, and he saves people every day. He changes lives and…many people depend on him."
"But what about you, Kurt?" Burt asked. "I don't like the idea of you waiting up until all hours, scared out of your mind and alone."
"I don't wait up." Kurt corrected. "I know he'll do everything he can to make sure he comes home safely to me and if…if he doesn't, I can be strong." Kurt's voice thinned. "If one day he doesn't come back, then… I'll know he died loving me. Every time Noah leaves he kisses me and tells me he loves me. It doesn't matter if we're fighting or annoyed at each other. I always say it back because really, after I love you, what else is there left to say?"
"That kind of pain…I don't think you know how hard it is."
"Then let me ask you something, Dad. " Kurt sat up, leaning forward intently. "If you had known Mom was going to die so soon , the first time you saw her, would you have just walked away? Never gotten to know her, never fallen in love with her?'
"No! Your mom, in the short time she was with me gave me the best years of my life." Burt replied intensely. "She gave me you. No matter how much it hurt after…I wouldn't give that up for anything."
"Exactly," Kurt gave him a serene smile, settled back down against the pillows and resumed sipping his hot tea. "That's the way I feel about Noah."
Burt was stunned. Kurt wasn't his little boy anymore, some how when Burt hadn't been paying attention, somewhere between playing with his Barbie dolls and fiddling under the hood of a car, Kurt had grown into a man. A man intelligent enough to make his own decisions and strong enough to face any consequences.
Burt nodded to himself sadly, he couldn't help but feel as if he was losing something precious. "I'll let you rest a bit then, Kurt. Don't want to tire my grandbaby out."
Kurt eyes sparkled with tears, his hand going to his belly as he smiled widely.
"I'll see you in a few." Burt moved toward the door.
"Dad!" Kurt called out. Burt turned around and Kurt gave him a watery smile. "The Deadliest Catch marathon is on today right?"
Burt nodded.
"Well, Noah's a big fan." Kurt looked at him hopefully. "Maybe he'd want to watch it with you? "
"I'll be sure to ask." Burt gave him a warm smile as he shut the door.
*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*
"This place is snobby." Puck remarked, averting his eyes from the chirpy receptionist. The entire waiting room was done up in silk blue and white linens. Puck felt like he was on a Caribbean island commercial.
"It's the absolute best." Quinn replied icily flipping her blonde hair back. "Anyway if we had waited for you to find a suitable doctor for Kurt he would have delivered without one, probably in the tub at your apartment."
"Hey, I actually did some research on that and many doctors think that homebirths are relaxing-"
"No." Kurt shook his head, horrified. "No tub."
"But the magazine said-"
"Oh. My. God. Honestly, just enjoy your complimentary champagne before I bludgeon you to death with my heel." Quinn got up and walked to the bulletin board where Brittany was seriously studying the pictures of delivered babies.
"Wow, thank you, ladies and gentlemen Quinn Fabray, the bitch will be here all night." Puck gave mock applause and Kurt giggled.
"She is right though, this guy has delivered tons of pregnant men safely." Kurt tapped the pamphlet. "I like him and Quinn is right, I'm pushing five months and we still don't have a doctor."
"This Archibald guy better be the best, he's charging a ridiculous amount and doesn't take any insurance."
Kurt shrugged. "I can pay his fee."
"No." Puck insisted. "I'll pay the troll."
"Why do you feel like you have to pay for everything? You've paid for everything the entire time we were together." Kurt frowned. "We're supposed to be partners."
"It's my child. I want to pay."
"Uh, hello?" Kurt pointed a manicured nail to his stomach. " It's my baby as well."
"I wouldn't mind having you both pay me!" A deep voice laughed behind them. They both turned to see a young man , reddish brown hair artfully styled. There was no way to describe him other than pretty. He had light blue eyes, a straight nose and a full, well shaped mouth. Kurt and Puck both looked down at his extended hand doubtfully. "I'm Nate, Doctor Archibald to be exact!" He exclaimed grinning.
"Hell, no," Puck shook his head. "This guy isn't a day over ten." He grabbed Kurt's hand. "We're going with Burt's pick."
"Puck!" Kurt cried, flushing in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Doctor, he's just a bit over protective of us."
"I assure you that I'm well past ten years old but that's irrelevant." Doctor Archibald laughed. "I am a doctor but my father is the one who sees the patients. I'm just assisting for now; building up my experience."
Puck gave a sigh of relief as an older man, about fifty years old came to the door. This he could deal with. He noticed Brittany mooning over the young doctor and even the ice queen Quinn looked flushed. Nate followed his gaze and grinned.
"No need to worry about the virtue of your friends." He held up his left hand and Puck was surprised he had the strength to lift it with that massive rock on his ring finger. "I've been happily married for seven years now."
"No shit." Puck squinted at Nate trying to decipher his age then just gave up. "How old are you?"
"Twenty seven," Nate beamed. "We were high school sweet hearts."
"How touching." Puck replied sarcastically.
"Yeah." Nate sighed. Either not hearing the biting note in Puck's voice or choosing to ignore it. "Chuck and I think it's pretty romantic."
"Right," Puck tugged Kurt toward the door. "See ya later, guy."
*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*
Archibald Senior was everything Puck expected to find in a doctor. He was warm while remaining distant and slightly stuffy. He exuded an air of authority and knowledge as he examined Kurt and Puck couldn't ask for more. Well, he could ask for a lower price tag but that was beside the point.
"Mr. Hummel, you haven't been to a physician since becoming pregnant?"
Kurt shook his head guiltily. They just hadn't found the time. Kurt had his busiest season around valentines and mother's day and Puck was working overtime. Their schedules hadn't been in sync for awhile and Kurt hadn't wanted to go alone.
The doctor tsked and made a note on his chart.
Puck was starting to get irritated with the tsking but had let it slide for the past hour. He had been too captivated by his child's heart beat filling the room and the blurry images on the monitor. The doctor picked up the sonogram wand once more and pressed it to the side of Kurt's stomach, grumbling to himself as he stared at the images on the screen.
Kurt was starting to get nervous, his hand squeezing Puck's harder the longer the doctor remained silent. Puck was just about to rip the doctor a new one when the man stopped and gave a triumphant "Aha!"
"What? What is it?" Kurt's voice was worried and frantic. "Is he okay?" He broke off uncertain. "Or she, is she okay?"
The doctor laughed. "I think you should be asking if they are okay."
Puck froze and Kurt's hand went limp in his.
"They?" Puck asked, he felt a rush of exhilaration shoot through him.
"Yes. I was a bit perturbed because I only detected one heart beat upon first examination but during the sonogram I was detecting a lot of limbs. Right over here," The doctor pointed to the still on the screen. "There, it appears that one is sleeping on top of the other. That's why I picked up one heart beat, that and the fact that I was only expecting to find just one." He looked over at Kurt. "You look to be normal size for 21 weeks with a single pregnancy but you are in fact carrying twins."
"Yes!" Puck shouted gleefully.
"Oh my God, no!" Kurt said.
*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*
What do you think? Review please?