Get Back What Matters
Title: Get Back What Matters
Words: 960
Rating: PG-13. Mild swearing. Incredibly fluffy.
Spoilers: S2 Glee, but nothing really specific.
Summary: Playing Halo, eating sandwiches, and being asses to one another? It's the usual Friday night for them.
Pairings/Characters: Puck/Finn.
“You must be going broke paying all those girls a buck each for a kiss,” Puck laughed, his confident smirk only matched by the headshot he managed to land against Finn.
Whatever retort the other had planned was shoved aside for the sake of an angry flail and huffy glare; both pathetic to look at, yet tragically synonymous with Finn Hudson since he could display his emotions accurately. The boy had no ability to hide his emotions - especially not when his current stride for the week involved being as cocky and self-assured as possible.
“It’s a way to raise money for the ticket to Regionals,” Finn defended with a scoff, his eyes barely skimming over his best friend before his merciful respawn, “they’re all paying me for the chance to get a smooch - why d’you have to make it into a shot at me?”
As of last week, Puck and Finn were back to their established bromance. No hoes to get in the way of their bro-dom, and Puck? Puck had never been happier. There was a sort of relieving pressure that finally felt lifted. He wasn’t the douche who knocked up Finn’s ex-girlfriend. He was Finn’s best friend.
“A buck is still a rip-off.”
“You and Santana both suck, okay?”
“Dude, only Santana sucks. I’m not into d -”
Finn made a few strangled “shut up” sounds to stifle whatever gay joke was coming from the other. After a few unfair deaths, Finn furrowed his brow and pouted like there was no Christmas. “This is total crap. I should be out with my admirers, not sitting in the Batcave with you playing Halo,” Finn announced with a huff as he pushed himself up from the edge of the bed. This gesture only lasted as long as his numb legs would hold him, his figure crashing backwards onto the mattress once more. “…Once my legs freakin’ work. And after food.”
Puck dismissed Finn’s attempt to storm off by ignoring it entirely. “You want something to eat?”
“But I can’t walk,” Finn mumbled sadly, massaging at his legs. Sitting on them for extends periods of time was a bad idea. How the hell had he done it in elementary school for hours on end?
“I’ll bring it to you then, lazyass.”
“Fine, I’ll be here. Go be a good housewife,” Finn smiled pleasantly, edging himself up into a sitting position at the head of the bed. He was met with a barely annoyed expression from Puck, and he knew what little annoyance he saw was faked for the sake of his “image”. Ever since Finn worked out Puck was a whiz with the E-Z-bake oven his sister had gotten for Christmas, Finn had mooched enough food to feed a small family in Africa.
For the first time since - well - ever, Finn was actually given a chance to examine Puck’s room. It’d changed a lot since he’d last seen it. There were more posters, obviously, and a distinct lack of dirty magazines poking out from every available drawer. He propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes catching over details he’d otherwise miss. Stuff like the Power Ranger buried under a pile of notebooks reminded him what he’d lost for so long and what he’d finally gotten back.
Being back on top ruled, especially with your best friend on your side; Finn was quickly learning how fickle girls were and how quickly relationships soured. That’s why he was trying this stud approach. Not tied down, not answering to any girls and best of all, not getting hurt by any girls.
The sound of footsteps slumping towards the room caught the hungry teen’s eye - not a moment later Puck entered with two monstrous sandwiches perched on either plate. Finn slackly edged himself up, his hands settled on his knees as he waited for his lunch. “I missed this.”
“Huh?”
Finn frowned, his eyes diving for the floor before heading back up to catch Puck’s eye. “I just mean eating giant sandwiches, playing games… I missed it, y’know?”
“Yeah, I do.”
There was an unintentional pause from Finn, a pause longer than anything he’d intended. “You’ve changed a lot.”
Puck offer the plate to Finn, setting it in the other’s eagerly outstretched hand. “Yeah, I know.”
“And you still say nothing at all.”
“Yeah… so?”
Finn felt an indignant smirk cross his own features, his eyebrow intentionally cocked, “I don’t know. I guess I expected you to be able to talk in more than four synapses.” Wait. Was it synapses? Or syllables? Whatever. Puck wouldn’t know either way.
“I’m just trying to work something out.”
“What?” Finn betrayed any attempt to act indifferent with the speed and impatience with which he asked that insignificant question. He took a few bites of his sandwich as he watched Puck settle down onto the bed next to him. There was no response that Finn could tell, but he could see a certain hesitance in Puck’s body language.
“Whether or not those girls are really getting their buck’s worth…”
Before Finn’s easily confused mind could properly interpret what Puck had just said, he was having the statement physically punctuated. He was lip-to-lip with the other, a playful amusement evident in the other’s movements. Finn wasn’t exactly sure where this gesture had come from, but he could feel the same wash of eased comfort.
Finn had his best friend back.
“I missed you.” Puck needlessly grinned, his eyes mischievously darting between staring at Finn’s eyes and mouth. Finn knew the expression too well, even though it had been lost to the both of them since a few months of distance.
“I missed you too,” Finn replied with ease, “now can you let me eat my sandwich? It’s fucking delicious.”
Words: 960
Rating: PG-13. Mild swearing. Incredibly fluffy.
Spoilers: S2 Glee, but nothing really specific.
Summary: Playing Halo, eating sandwiches, and being asses to one another? It's the usual Friday night for them.
Pairings/Characters: Puck/Finn.
“You must be going broke paying all those girls a buck each for a kiss,” Puck laughed, his confident smirk only matched by the headshot he managed to land against Finn.
Whatever retort the other had planned was shoved aside for the sake of an angry flail and huffy glare; both pathetic to look at, yet tragically synonymous with Finn Hudson since he could display his emotions accurately. The boy had no ability to hide his emotions - especially not when his current stride for the week involved being as cocky and self-assured as possible.
“It’s a way to raise money for the ticket to Regionals,” Finn defended with a scoff, his eyes barely skimming over his best friend before his merciful respawn, “they’re all paying me for the chance to get a smooch - why d’you have to make it into a shot at me?”
As of last week, Puck and Finn were back to their established bromance. No hoes to get in the way of their bro-dom, and Puck? Puck had never been happier. There was a sort of relieving pressure that finally felt lifted. He wasn’t the douche who knocked up Finn’s ex-girlfriend. He was Finn’s best friend.
“A buck is still a rip-off.”
“You and Santana both suck, okay?”
“Dude, only Santana sucks. I’m not into d -”
Finn made a few strangled “shut up” sounds to stifle whatever gay joke was coming from the other. After a few unfair deaths, Finn furrowed his brow and pouted like there was no Christmas. “This is total crap. I should be out with my admirers, not sitting in the Batcave with you playing Halo,” Finn announced with a huff as he pushed himself up from the edge of the bed. This gesture only lasted as long as his numb legs would hold him, his figure crashing backwards onto the mattress once more. “…Once my legs freakin’ work. And after food.”
Puck dismissed Finn’s attempt to storm off by ignoring it entirely. “You want something to eat?”
“But I can’t walk,” Finn mumbled sadly, massaging at his legs. Sitting on them for extends periods of time was a bad idea. How the hell had he done it in elementary school for hours on end?
“I’ll bring it to you then, lazyass.”
“Fine, I’ll be here. Go be a good housewife,” Finn smiled pleasantly, edging himself up into a sitting position at the head of the bed. He was met with a barely annoyed expression from Puck, and he knew what little annoyance he saw was faked for the sake of his “image”. Ever since Finn worked out Puck was a whiz with the E-Z-bake oven his sister had gotten for Christmas, Finn had mooched enough food to feed a small family in Africa.
For the first time since - well - ever, Finn was actually given a chance to examine Puck’s room. It’d changed a lot since he’d last seen it. There were more posters, obviously, and a distinct lack of dirty magazines poking out from every available drawer. He propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes catching over details he’d otherwise miss. Stuff like the Power Ranger buried under a pile of notebooks reminded him what he’d lost for so long and what he’d finally gotten back.
Being back on top ruled, especially with your best friend on your side; Finn was quickly learning how fickle girls were and how quickly relationships soured. That’s why he was trying this stud approach. Not tied down, not answering to any girls and best of all, not getting hurt by any girls.
The sound of footsteps slumping towards the room caught the hungry teen’s eye - not a moment later Puck entered with two monstrous sandwiches perched on either plate. Finn slackly edged himself up, his hands settled on his knees as he waited for his lunch. “I missed this.”
“Huh?”
Finn frowned, his eyes diving for the floor before heading back up to catch Puck’s eye. “I just mean eating giant sandwiches, playing games… I missed it, y’know?”
“Yeah, I do.”
There was an unintentional pause from Finn, a pause longer than anything he’d intended. “You’ve changed a lot.”
Puck offer the plate to Finn, setting it in the other’s eagerly outstretched hand. “Yeah, I know.”
“And you still say nothing at all.”
“Yeah… so?”
Finn felt an indignant smirk cross his own features, his eyebrow intentionally cocked, “I don’t know. I guess I expected you to be able to talk in more than four synapses.” Wait. Was it synapses? Or syllables? Whatever. Puck wouldn’t know either way.
“I’m just trying to work something out.”
“What?” Finn betrayed any attempt to act indifferent with the speed and impatience with which he asked that insignificant question. He took a few bites of his sandwich as he watched Puck settle down onto the bed next to him. There was no response that Finn could tell, but he could see a certain hesitance in Puck’s body language.
“Whether or not those girls are really getting their buck’s worth…”
Before Finn’s easily confused mind could properly interpret what Puck had just said, he was having the statement physically punctuated. He was lip-to-lip with the other, a playful amusement evident in the other’s movements. Finn wasn’t exactly sure where this gesture had come from, but he could feel the same wash of eased comfort.
Finn had his best friend back.
“I missed you.” Puck needlessly grinned, his eyes mischievously darting between staring at Finn’s eyes and mouth. Finn knew the expression too well, even though it had been lost to the both of them since a few months of distance.
“I missed you too,” Finn replied with ease, “now can you let me eat my sandwich? It’s fucking delicious.”