This was prompted on the LJ Puckurt fic meme by lezi, and came along with an awesome picture, which you can find at weheartit .com/ entry/ 5162017

A Day at the Beach

"Oh, look at what a cute baby he is!" a girl said as she approached the blanket where Puck and his son were lounging, dressed in their best beach gear. Puck wore red board shorts and a short-sleeved button-down, which he left open to show off his hard-re-earned chest and abs, the scars barely visible anymore, thank god. The kid's outfit, though - that was a different story. "Where did you get that shark costume? It's adorable!"

Both Puckermans smiled at the attention. Hey, like father, like son, right? "Internet," Puck replied, sitting up and giving the bikini-and-beach-towel-clad girl a flirty smile. Hey, no one said he couldn't look!

A brief thought of, Score!, ran through the back of Puck's head when the girl sat down beside them on the sand and reached out for the baby, letting him grab one of her fingers and smiling hugely at the boy, her eyes open and wide. "What's his name?"

"Jack," Puck replied, telling the girl his own personal nickname for the kid. So what if the birth certificate said Jacob Ethan Puckerman-Hummel? Puck thought every day the kid looked more and more like a Jack.

Putting on a baby voice that had Puck trying not to wince at its cutesiness, the girl said, "Has Jack been in the water yet today?"

"Jack says all of about two words, babe," Puck smirked, picking up the kid and zooming him high overhead so he smiled and giggled in that way girls loved. "So he won't be able to tell you that no, he hasn't been in the water yet, has he?" Puck brought the kid down toward his face quickly, which made Jack squeal and grab Puck's face, gnawing on his father's nose a little before Puck's arms lifted him high up again.

"Where's Jack's mommy?" the girl asked, inching a little closer toward them and shading her eyes with one hand as she smiled up at the kid, who made wet, zooming airplane noises until Puck got sick of the impromptu shower and brought him in for a landing.

"Yeah," Puck said, readjusting his son's shark costume and wondering when the heck they would be allowed in the water to freak out the other swimmers with Jack's own personal blend of Puckerman-Hummel cute/badassness, "I'm pretty much mommy."

"Poor thing," the girl frowned, reaching forward, through the foam shark teeth to tickle Jack's chin. If Puck wasn't sure the chick was lamenting Jack's lack of a female parent, he'd feel a little offended. But hey, at least the baby made an awesome chick magnet. Or, you know, dick magnet if Kurt was the one holding him, since the dude was so obviously gay. Hook, line and sinker, the girl shrugged one shoulder as she caught Puck's eye and said, "I'm Stacy, by the way."

Too bad Puck couldn't do any more than admire the scenery. Well, he could, but Kurt would get freaking pissed. Talking to her didn't count against him much more than scenery-admiring, right? "Noah," Puck replied, since Stacy looked like the kind of chick who wouldn't appreciate his nickname. Some chicks really loved it and some hated it, and Puck had gotten really good at telling the difference.

"Noah," she repeated with a flirty smile. God, he missed boobs! He didn't miss them enough to do anything stupid about it, but his eyes kept flicking down to where this Stacy chick's sweater puppies looked like they were trying to escape her purple bikini top. Nice."How old is Jack?"

Setting his son down on the blanket by several of his toys, Puck replied, "A few weeks shy of a year. It was rough, but we made it," he laid down next to Jack so he could see the kid's face, "didn't we, bud?"

The baby laughed and grabbed Puck's nose. Damn, it was time to trim those razor-sharp nails again. Usually Kurt was all over that shit, giving the little guy baby manicures and facials while Puck wasn't looking (read: pretended not to look so Kurt would be happy). In response to the nose-grabbing, Puck tried to gnaw on Jack's fingers, which made him squeal in delight. More chicks looked over at them and Puck sort of felt like beaming. Yeah, he had made this little bundle of cute, and Puck knew how appealing that made him to all those chicks with audible baby-clocks.

But then Kurt got back from the truck in his sexy beach clothes (trunks and a designer wife-beater that showed off his long, toned limbs) and that stupid dorky Huckleberry Finn straw hat. He ruined everything by kneeling down on the blanket next to them and kissing Puck on the cheek. All those fine ladies sighed and turned away and when Kurt asked, "Who's this, sweetie?" about Stacy, the girl looked almost shocked.

"An admirer," Puck replied with a self-satisfied smirk as he sat up and put Jack in his lap so Kurt could apply the forgotten-in-the-car organic, baby-safe sunscreen. "Stacy, Kurt. Kurt, Stacy. She wanted to know where we got the shark costume."

"You got this ridiculous monstrosity of infant fashion, Puck. You. Don't go making me complicit in your crimes against our son's dignity. The only reason I agreed to this was because of the modicum of sun protection it provides." Then, he turned to Stacy and said, "Thank you for stopping by and asking after Jacob's apparel. I'm sure he appreciated the attention."

Apparently Stacy knew a non-dismissal dismissal when she heard one, because she gathered up her things and said a soft, "Bye," before escaping the beach.

"Dude," Puck frowned as Kurt continued to slather sunscreen on the kid, "you didn't have to be such a dick. She was nice!"

"She wanted to be Jake's mommy, hon," Kurt sighed jealously, meeting Puck's eyes with one raised brow. "I know you're not as stupid about these things as you pretend to be. Please, just ignore any further suitors. For me?"

When Kurt put it that way, looking up at Puck through his lashes and under that ridiculously cute hat, Puck couldn't help but agree. "Yeah, alright, baby. You know you're the only one for me."

Kurt smiled and finished applying the sunscreen, saying, "Alright. Ten minutes to dry and Jake will be ready to go. Take off your shirt."

"Okay," Puck agreed, not quite sure where Kurt was going with this since there was a baby on the blanket beside them and about a hundred other people on the beach. When Kurt moved around behind Puck and started slathering his back with sunscreen, Puck complained, "Oh, come on! I was gonna work on my tan today."

"No you're not," Kurt insisted, pushing a stupid-ass fishing hat down onto Puck's head for good measure. "If you get melanoma and die, your mother will kill me and then Jake will be an orphan. Just wear the damn sunscreen."

Huffing in annoyance, Puck readjusted his hat and corrected, "Jack."

"Jake," Kurt argued. "We are not calling our son after your favorite brand of liquor."

"But, he looks more like a Jack."

"Jake," Kurt insisted, flicking the back of Puck's ear and then when Puck whipped around daring him with one upraised eyebrow to do something about it in this sea of witnesses.

Feeling uncomfortably like his hands were tied when it came to retaliation, Puck growled, "Jack!"

"Jake!" Kurt insisted, though he looked a lot cooler than Puck felt.



Then, the kid spoke up for the first time all day and squealed something that sounded suspiciously like, "Jock!"

Puck met Kurt's eyes and they both broke into laughter, their disagreement abandoned for the time being. "Oh dear god," Kurt chuckled, "it's starting already."

"What?" Puck asked, pulling Kurt into his arms as the guy finished his coat of sunscreen.

"Our son is going to be exactly like you, Noah," Kurt sighed, "even though technically I'm more related to him than you are."

"Yeah," Puck agreed, still not sure about Dr. Wu's explanation of Jack's blood type. Something about Puck being a chimera and double fertilization and his almost twin sister in the womb, which he did not understand at all. "But I lugged this dude around for eight months. He'll take after me if he knows what's good for him."

Kurt laughed and tugged Puck's arms closer around him. "What should we do first?"

"It's fucking hot out," Puck observed, shading his eyes and looking up at the perfectly blue sky, "we should get in the water first. Cool off a bit."

"You two go ahead," Kurt agreed, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen. "I'll catch up when I'm dry. Oh, and you owe me a dollar."

"What for?" Puck asked, throwing down the hat and hauling Jack back toward them by the back of his costume, just under the back fin, when he stood up and tried to make a break for it. Puck sort of thought the point of pooling his and Kurt's money was to not have to ask for it from each other.

"You said the f-word in front of the baby," Kurt explained, carefully spreading the sunscreen on his arms in a way that definitely didn't make Puck wish they were alone at home. Not at all, damn it.

"He won't remember a fucking thing," Puck insisted, picking Jack up and settling him on one hip as they stood. "He's not even a year old."

"But he will start repeating sounds," Kurt pointed out, squinting up at them. "If he swears in front of your nana, not even I can save you, Noah Puckerman-Hummel. And two dollars."

Bracing Jack against his chest with both hands, Puck leaned down to kiss Kurt on the lips, smirking when he said, "Fine, baby. But fuck you if you think I'm not gonna teach him to swear when he's older. There are some things a dude should know how to do."

Kurt laughed and nodded, practically singing, "Three dollars!" as he bent back down to his task.

Walking toward the edge of the water, Puck turned to his kid and asked, "Do you believe that shit, Jack? Your daddy thinks he can call all the shots, doesn't he?"

Jack nodded vigorously, his blue eyes crinkled up in pleasure. Puck kept wondering if they were going to darken into hazel, like his, but he kind of liked the fact that their son had Kurt's eyes.

"Wanna go for a swim and freak out all these peeps with your awesome swimming costume, dude?" Puck asked as he stepped into the shallow water. For it being early in the summer, the lake water was blissfully warm. It helped that this was one of the shallowest lakes around Lima. Pretty soon, after the move, they were going to have to find a good beach out in LA. Maybe then Puck could finally learn how to surf and he could teach Jack when the kid was older and better at balancing, and then he and his son could go out and show off all their sweet moves together. He would teach Jack how to surf and how to play guitar and ride a motorcycle and chase the ladies (or the dudes - whatever he wanted) and play pranks on Kurt and to be a Jew. Puck would be the kind of dad he'd never had.

As he waded further into the water, Puck asked his son, "What sound does a shark make?"

Leaning down toward the water happily, Jack roared loudly.

"Totally, dude," Puck laughed, wading in a little deeper until he could roll to float on his back, Jake-the-shark safe on his chest. The baby roared again, startling an older couple off to Puck's left, and Puck decided he had the coolest, most badass, kid ever.

"How's he doing?" Kurt asked as he joined his husband and their kid in the water. Jake was dog-paddling a little bit, but it looked like he was mostly being held afloat by Puck's strong hand under his chest.

"Good," Puck smirked, pulling Kurt closer with his free hand and kissing Kurt's temple. "We freaked out a bunch of people and Jack was flirting with those chicks over there."

"Oh, Jake was flirting, hmm?" Kurt asked, settling his back against Puck's chest and pulling the baby close, wondering if the blue tint to his lips meant they should head in, despite the rapturous look on Jake's face, like he'd never had this much fun, ever.

"I swear," Puck insisted, arms around Kurt's waist and chin at Kurt's shoulder as Kurt took over the baby-lifeguard duties. A kiss to the side of his neck made Kurt shiver and notice a less-than-accepting look from a few of their fellow swimmers.

"We should get you two back onto dry land," Kurt suggested. "Jake looks a little chilly."

"Yeah, okay. Maybe build a sandcastle?" Puck asked, following closely as Kurt held Jake and carried him out of the water. A breeze came by and though the sun was almost blistering-hot, the wind over his wet skin was a little cold and Kurt held Jake closer to make sure he didn't get hypothermia. The baby snuggled against him readily, which never failed to make Kurt smile.

As they got to the blankets and towels, Kurt wrapped his son in one towel, threw a second over his shoulder at Puck, and used the third to dab the lake water from his own skin. A year ago, Kurt doubted he'd allow a drop of questionably-hygienic water to touch his skin, much less go swimming in it, but Jacob and Puck both seemed to love the water, and Kurt didn't want to be left behind. Besides, it wasn't that bad, once you got used to it.

"Here," Kurt insisted, shoving a bucket toward Puck, "Bring back some water so we can build that sandcastle of yours."

Puck crouched down for another kiss, a gesture Kurt hadn't been sure for most of his life that he'd receive so readily and so publicly, before saying, "Whatever you want, babe."

While his husband was gone for the fifteen seconds it took to go get a bucket of water, Kurt seriously considered sabotaging the shark suit. Sure, Jake seemed to like wearing it, but really? He looked so much cuter in normal (if designer-knock-off) baby clothes. Why did Puck insist on dressing him up in this monstrosity of teeth and badly-proportioned fins? Was it because Puck had taken it upon himself to show Jake how to be a 'real man' and sharks were the manliest thing he could think of? Or was Puck just a little touched in the head from all that drinking he'd done before Jacob came along?

Puck returned with a big grin before Kurt could make up his mind, pouring the water onto the sand near their blanket and quickly going back for another bucketful. Five trips and one soaked blanket corner later, Puck busied himself making a sandcastle while Jake sat beside him and watched, playing with a sand-shovel that Puck had given him.

Kurt watched his two boys with a smile on his face. They'd made it this far. He and Puck had both graduated high school and if Puck didn't get into a school this year, at least he'd found a job out in LA. The deal was, Puck would support them as a certified mechanic while Kurt got his degree, and then once Kurt found a job, Puck would go back to school (provided he hadn't made it big as a badass rock star by then). They might not see all of their dreams come true, but at least they could be happy right?

When Kurt looked up, he saw more than one woman scoping out Puck, who was telling Jake exactly what he was doing and why, "See little dude? You gotta get the sand packed in there real good, otherwise your castle's gonna fall apart." Jealous of the fond (and in some cases predatory) way everyone was looking at his husband, Kurt found that dumb-looking fishing hat his father had leant them and stuck it back on Puck's head, citing melanoma and unfortunate Mohawk-shaving incidents.

Kurt sighed and watched the scene for a few more minutes, wondering if he should get his hands dirty and step in to fix exactly what Puck was doing wrong, when Jake took a big handful of wet sand and brought it to his mouth. "No!" Kurt cried, lunging forward and grabbing the baby's hands as gently as he could. "We don't eat sand, Jacob!" The little boy and his grown-up-boy father both looked up at Kurt like he was overreacting.

"It's just sand. He'll figure out it's no good to eat right away," Puck scoffed, going back to his sandcastle while Kurt rolled his eyes.

"And get E. coli in the process. Really, dear, it's a wonder Jake's made it a year without you seriously endangering his life in some way."

"Relax, baby," Puck replied, rolling over to put his head in Kurt's lap and look up at him. "You worry too much. Jack's a tough little guy. He can handle it. Gotta let him make his own mistakes sometimes, you know?" Without waiting for Kurt to respond, Puck reached over and grabbed Jake, pulling the baby to lie out on his chest and brushing some sand from the backs of his pudgy little legs. "Isn't that right, Jack? Your daddy worries way too fucking much, doesn't he?"

Kurt laughed, running a hand through Puck's short Mohawk and leaning in, whispered, "Four dollars."

The only response he got was a chuckle before Puck curled upward and blew a loud raspberry on Jake's neck, making the baby squeal with delight. Yeah, okay. Maybe Kurt did worry too much. But one of them had to, right? Right.