"Uhm… hey, dude…"
No. Just… no. Sounds really, really wrong.
It's not like he's addressing his best bud, right?
Well, he hopes he's addressing his one-day-to-be best bud, actually, but as of now… dude just won't do.
Fuck, yeah. Way better, isn't it?
"It's your daddy, here. I know you're, like, fifteen weeks old and probably don't even have ears to listen to me, but… fuck, I've read this book that says that talking to developing fetuses is one of those good parent things you should do to make your child feel serene and loved and, so… yeah… hello."
He feels somewhat stupid talking to a bump nestled under his girl's skin, but this is how dads do it in the movies, so he goes on, voice soft and low, because baby mama's sleeping and he definitely doesn't want to wake her up.
"I don't know what shit I'm supposed to be telling you, and probably terms like shit aren't included in that package, but – y' know – I've never spoken to an unborn person before, and it's, like, super weird. As I said, I don't even know if you can hear me, so…"
He trails off. He thinks he should be talking about pink unicorns and fluffy bunnies hopping in an emerald green meadow full of sunflowers and such, but, what if there's a boy in there and when he comes out he's totally gay?
Not that he has something against gay people. He quite likes Kurt, actually. Problem is, that he's been dreaming that, if it's a little dude, it's going to be just like him, and the idea of a gay Puck grosses him out. It just wouldn't work.
But, if it's a girl, he wants her to be like her mama: talented and sassy. Maybe not that stubborn. And less psychotic. Yeah, that one, mostly.
"Sorry, we haven't come up with a name for you, yet. Mama likes Isabel and Jacob. Told her Isabel could do, but she can forget about Jacob. I know she's not a fan of that Twilight shit, but I don't want people to think you were named after a fucking werewolf asshole when they meet you. Anyways… if you're a Puckman, I think Alexander would be cool, wouldn't it? Sounds… epic. And if you're a Pucklady, your name should totally be Sara. It's Hebrew, y' know? Means princess. Funny thing huh? That your mama's name means lamb, 'cause, seriously, viper would totally suit her better! Don't tell her I told you, though. Well, my name means peaceful, so… whatever. All I know for sure is that you won't be named Jacob, trust me."
Carefully, he places his hand over the bump covering the whole spot. It's a funny feeling that, at this time, his baby is as big as his palm. Or as small, under a baby-size point of view.
"I'm so very excited about you." He whispers, as a smile tugs at his lips. "I can't say this out loud, 'cause mama gets pissed when I let it slip. She says it's easy to say for me, since she's the one gaining weight and having all those freaky cravings, but… I think it's amazing that you're here and you're… us. And, shit, if you're a girl, please, do not inherit mama's looks… pleasepleaseplease, just don't. I want you to be boy-repellent, or whatever it's called, and if you look like your mom then daddy's gonna have to buy a castle and lock you up in the highest tower until you're old enough to be out of any guy's interest, and so you'd hate me forever and ever. So don't be too pretty and everything will be smooth and easy between the two of us. If you're a boy, on the other hand, you have my blessing to be as hot as the badass you're gonna have as a father. Cool, uh?"
He chuckles. He's picturing himself sitting in his armchair and his kid coming home all smug and excited because he's got a date with the hottest chick in the school, and he'd tell him something like 'Good job, son! Here's two hundred bucks to spend on a decent dinner with the lucky lady!'.
He's not 100% sure it will be exactly two hundred bucks, but he's planning on becoming disgustingly rich within a few years, so it doesn't really matter.
Then, at once, the smug boy in his fantasy turns into a girl – damn, a fucking gorgeous girl, just like her mother, and this just can't be good – and she's all smiling and beaming because she's got a date with the hottest dude in the school, and all her girlfriends are so envious, and she's gonna need a new dress, and new shoes, and a new hair cut, and it'd be so cool if daddy could give her permission to stay out after midnight, 'cause Dude boy wants to take her to the cinema after dinner and…
"Oh, God," he groans, his head aching at the mere thought. "Please, just don't be a girl, really!"
He glances down at the baby bump, as though he expected some reassuring reply to come from it, but he knows it's too soon, and anyway the baby surely can't reassure him from in there. It's going to take another few weeks before they can feel the kid moving, and he thinks he might die from impatience before that day comes.
Thinking back to the day he found out about this little thing, he can barely believe that three months have already passed. She'd been avoiding him for a couple of days and that scared the shit out of him, since, after he'd fought so hard to get her, he frankly didn't want to be dumped or anything. They belonged together, period. They were one and she couldn't break up with him. Just no fucking way.
As he discovered shortly after, they were one in more meanings than he had initially thought.
"Would you believe that your mom was afraid to tell me about you?" he laughs. "Like, she thought I'd be mad at her because of you. I'm tellin' ya, baby: your life's gonna be an endless laugh! She thought I didn't want you, can you believe that? And I thought she was smart! Guess she just figured I didn't see any difference between expecting a child from a random girl and expecting a child from the girl I love. You and me feel a bit underestimated, now, don't we?"
He sort of giggles and this surprises him, at first, but then he realizes he doesn't give a fuck: nobody's listening, nobody will be judging. It's just him and his baby Puckerman in there.
"You came about quite unexpectedly, I have to concede that." He continues, as his fingers brush in religious awe over the soft skin of the girl he loves and he muses that it's fucking incredible that there's a little person growing inside of her, a little person that he created with her.
Pregnant teen girl and a future to plan according to this: he's been there before. Only, this time he feels like he's truly part of the whole thing, and not just a powerless piece of audience. This time he got to smile at the revelation, and feel his heart pound in his chest for the joy and the terror, and hug his girl like he'd never have to let go of her. Despite the fear and the doubts, he thanked God for hours when she told him that for nothing in the world would she give up the baby – neither before, nor after it'd be born. Scared and insecure as she was, she took his hand and asked him what he wanted to do about it. That's when he sensed the deepest difference between being with a girl who sorta likes you and whom you sorta like, and being with a girl who loves you, and values you, and respects you, and whom you love, and value, and respect.
"I swear, kid, we may not have made you on purpose, but you're the most fucking awesome thing that's ever happened to me. I know, I'm only eighteen and most of my life is yet to come, but I doubt this statement's gonna change in the future."
He means it. To be more accurate, the Best Thing In Noah Puckerman's Life Award is stuck in a tie between the minuscule person he's talking to and the girl hosting it within her belly. But it's okay, since they're sharing the same body, at the moment. And when the Puckerbaby is born, then he or she will take turns with mama for the custody of the most fuckintastic award in the world.
"You know what, baby?" he confides, nearing his mouth to the belly button, because maybe that way the audio is a little more clear. Like an enhanced Dolby Surround amplifier, Uterus Edition. Or some shit like that.
His lips lay a kiss on top of the rounded bump and he finds himself smiling helplessly.
"I think you won my heart. Like, forever and ever."
The slender body he's hugged to stirs lightly and he freezes. He feels her hand move blindly to his head and she starts stroking his hair in her sleep. It's something she does very often and he loves it: she can't keep her hands off him even in her dreams. And that's the best part, because when she's asleep, she doesn't talk, which makes everything way more enjoyable. Or better, she does talk, sometimes, but mostly she's whispering senseless shit like 'Thank you for this Oscar, USA!', or 'That solo was mine, Mr Schue!', or also 'Mmh, Noah, please, don't stop!'. (Oh, his ego engorges incalculably every time she moans one of those!)
Then, all of a sudden, the gentle caresses of the small hand stop and a merciless pinch grabs his cheek.
"Ouch!"He snorts, just because it's dark enough for her not to see he's grinning like an idiot. He's not ashamed that he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"How long have you been awake?" he inquires, shifting up until he's cradled face to face with her.
"All along," She replies, and there's a touch of emotion to her tone.
She smiles and her dark eyes shimmer. She's so beautiful it almost hurts. There are times he fears that if he watches her too intently, he'll never be able to look away again. This is one of those.
He smiles back, because what else can you do when you feel like all you can still ask from life is to put a damn ring on her finger and make sure the whole universe knows you're the lucky bastard who owns her heart?
He moves his hand to move a strand of hair from her face, then slides it back down to where it was resting seconds ago.
"Heard that, baby? Mama's already started eavesdropping. Brace yourself for your teenage years, something tells me it's gonna be tough…"
"Shut up!" she giggles and swats his arm. He doesn't know why she does it, since his arms are hard as rocks, and she hurts herself more than she hurts him. He often pretends to feel some pain, though, just to pacify her.
Their hands meet and entangle over her swollen belly and they both think this moment is perfect.
They're a couple of teens, soon to be parents, and of course their life is quite far from being perfect, but they've learned to cherish moments, and this one deserves to be treasured.
"So… you heard everything, uh?"
"Even…" He clears his throat. "The part about…"
She snuggles closer to him and drops a quick kiss on his lips.
"I assume you agree with me," she mutters hoarsely. "That it will be better for all the three of us if we just pretend you didn't point out that my name should mean viper."
She smiles again, broadly, but in a scary warning way that suddenly reminds him that her knee is lying dangerously close to his crotch. Meaning that she's right, regardless what she's saying.
He swallows and nods, because every sensible man knows that a pregnant lady, no matter what, is never to be contradicted, and, by direct experience, he knows better.
"Can't believe your dads let you come over for the night."
"They'll be out of town until tomorrow afternoon… they would never leave me home alone, and here we have your mother to control us."
"Control us? What are they afraid of? 'S not like I can knock you up any more than this."
"Noah!" she squeals, and she's giggling so gingerly that he feels his heart literally melt.
Man, he loves this girl. No wonder everything about him was a mess before he got her: he was totally out of place in this world, without her.
He brushes his lips against hers, their hands still joined upon the spot where their baby is resting. The kiss is long, deep and full of devotion. When they part, he contemplates her, thanking God for making their paths cross and making her naïve enough to think a badass like him deserved her.
"I swear, Berry, you taste like life."
She laughs. She must think he's kidding or just saying that. But he means it, and she'll have to understand this, sooner or later.
But he laughs, too, because this is what happy people do.
A/N: my second Puckleberry. It could be considered a bit OOC, but, after seeing how Puck acted around Beth, I don't think it is, after all. I really really hope you liked this. Reviews are LOVE, if you are writers, you surely know. Besides, I'm not a native English speaker (yeah, Italian gal, here), so I'd love to see if I'm doing a good job or what. Thanks in advance anyways! : ) (And thanks, Amanda, for beta-ing! 3)