All the regular disclaimers apply, I don't own Finn or Puck, much as I'd like to. Constructive criticism would be appreciated, this is another story written in the middle of the night.

Father's Day had a special significance to everyone, right? Rachel went absolutely mad, buying her fathers' anything and everything they could possibly want, then complaining for weeks about not having any money, and swearing she would get them something cheap, possibly handmade, next year. But she knew she couldn't. She just loved them too much; she didn't want them to be disappointed. With Kurt, it was all about the baking. A love for good food, especially good baking, was one of the few things Kurt and Burt shared, so when Father's Day rolled around, Kurt would make pancakes, pies, muffins; both English and blueberry, waffles and tiny, dainty cupcakes. And that was just breakfast. Burt often joked that he shouldn't eat the day before because of how much he always eats on Father's Day. Kurt loves baking and he's easily excited. No big deal, and his father thinks it's the best way to spend a day; eating his son's amazing cooking.

And Finn? Finn hates Father's Day. He loathes it, he absolutely detests it. To Finn, it's like the rest of the world is shoving in his face what he's missing out on. He hates the big build up as well; all of the stores are proudly announcing it in their windows and covering all available surfaces with cards with happy smiling children playing catch with Dad on the front. Even the TV was turning against him, all of the adverts suddenly taking on a not too subtle Dad vibe and announcing that some brand of aftershave was 'perfect for Father's Day!' It was sickening. He knew what was perfect for Father's Day. That was actually having a Father to spend it with, and if you demanded any more than that, you were just being selfish.

What makes it even worse is the fact that he can't do his normal Father's Day routine, not now they were living with Kurt and Burt. It wasn't fair to spend the whole day locked in his room, blaring irritating and noisy songs out of his speakers and generally acting like a nuisance. It was the one day of the entire year that awkward Finn Hudson grew a pair and acted like a moody teenager. And he'd done it since he was seven. But not this year. Because this year, there was a Dad around the house, even if it wasn't his own, and Finn loved Burt enough to recognise that this was his day. He just couldn't be part of it. It was down to him to make other plans, he would have to conveniently be elsewhere all of that day.

"Puckerman? Puck?" Finn called as he walked past the bleachers at school. Yeah, it was a Sunday but he knew that Coach always left the gate of the football field open just a little, in case there were any emergencies. And he'd even checked with her if it would be alright if he spent a little time there alone, just to think. Coach appreciated that he probably wasn't going to have the best weekend, so she agreed without a second thought. After all, Hudson was one of the most trustworthy football players. Not that that's saying much. So Finn had intended to spend most of his Sunday with his head in his hands, occasionally yelling to the empty bleachers. But they weren't empty, and there was no mistaking that familiar build and Mohican. The figure; Puck, Finn was certain, slowly looked up and waved half-heartedly, coming more into focus as Finn approached.

"Hey, I overheard you and Coach, and I realised this was an amazing place to… think." Puck nodded and shrugged, unable to meet Finn's eye. The bloodshot eyes and tear streaked cheeks told Finn that his best friend had been crying, even if he'd never admit it.

"That's what I thought too. What have you been thinking about?" Finn carefully took a seat beside the other boy, looking at him with concern. This wasn't really like Puck at all.

"Beth." Finn saw Puck swallow as he said his daughter's name, and he looked like he was going to cry once more. "I know it's stupid, she's not old enough to even understand what today means. But she will, in the future, and I don't know if she'll know that I loved her. I love her. She'll be giving some other guy her card with wobbly handwriting and crayon drawings and it'll be him who gets to kiss her on the top of the head and take her swimming or whatever you do together on Father's Day."

Finn nodded slowly, suddenly feeling like such a self-absorbed idiot for getting upset about not having a Dad to spend the day with when there were Dads out there who didn't have their kids to celebrate with. And one of them was sat in front of him, tears running slowly down his face.

"I know I'm not supposed to cry. Or talk about her. Or even have feelings, but y'know, sometimes it just… happens. It wasn't ever my choice, not really, and I think me and Quinn could have done it, been her parents, if she'd wanted to. But she didn't, did she? That was the real problem. She didn't even want to admit that Beth was mine, that's how little she ever felt for me. I'm the kind of guy you screw, but not the kind of guy you marry, right?" Puck looked at Finn and finally realised who he was talking to. Because Finn's discomfort was so obvious on his face it was almost painful, he couldn't help but feel guilty for being the other guy effectively, the fake father. "Sorry, I didn't meant to… Whatever. It's over now. I just hope that one day she's curious enough to come looking for me, and that her other parents let her find me. I hope that one day she'll know that I'm proud of her, even if Quinn isn't. You should never regret anything that makes you happy, and seeing her, all pink and screwed up and tiny… Yeah, that made me happy."

It was the most honest thing that Finn had ever heard Puck say, and he hoped he wasn't about to negate it and try and take it back, just because they were guys and guys don't share their feelings. He wasn't sure how to respond so he bit his lip, desperately trying to think of an appropriate and meaningful reply. He came up with nothing, so they just sat in silence for a while, looking at the empty football pitch. Eventually Puck sighed and slowly got up, scrubbing the tears from his eyes. "I think I've done enough thinking today and probably so have you. Do you want to head back to mine and play Xbox? Mum's out, so it's just going to be us and the fridge."

Finn smiled and nodded, knowing that this was a much better way for the two of them to spend a day they both hated. Doing something they loved, together. "Sounds awesome dude. Especially because I'm going to beat you so bad at COD that I'll have to play blindfold to even give you half a chance." Puck rolled his eyes and started walking towards home, muttering back a similar insult. And just like that, the world was okay again. Because he knew, even though he hadn't said it explicitly, that his best friend had his back. Finn was a lot of things, but he'd always be Puck's best friend.

I like reviews. Almost as much as I like emotional Puck. Make me happy?