“There’s overprotective and there’s insane,” he told his mom when they pulled into the driveway. The look she gave him was thoroughly unimpressed and he sighed. It wasn’t worth it. They’d been arguing about it since that morning and it hadn’t changed anything.
Nice to know Rina your-disability-can’t-stop-you-from-doing-anything Puckerman had decided some vertigo issues meant he couldn’t be left alone for a weekend.
Sarah signed a later to him from the backseat as he got out. She thought it was hilarious. He was going to sell her on fucking eBay.
Bag over his shoulder, he gave them a short wave and headed up to the door. Carole gave him a hug when she let him in and he could hear something coming from the living room over to the right. He took off his hearing aids and shoved them into his coat pocket.
“What are you doing?” she asked him, lips still as she signed.
“Don’t ask,” he signed back. “Long story.” He punctuated it with a roll of his eyes that had her giving him a confused look, but she pointed him towards the basement. This was gonna suck, he thought as he spied Kurt in the living room with Burt. He gave the other teen a quick nod of acknowledgement when Kurt looked up, but Burt didn’t look over and he slipped downstairs before he did.
It was probably rude, considering he was spending the weekend in the guy’s house, but the weekend was shaping up to be uncomfortable enough if Finn, Kurt, and him were all gonna have to shack up together.
He was suddenly understanding Finn’s want to get to college early a lot more.
He knocked on the wall when he reached the bottom of the stairs to give Finn a heads up before he noticed the headphones. He shrugged and grabbed a pillow off the bed closer to him, and launched it at Finn’s face.
“Careful,” he signed when Finn finally noticed him. “Keep listening to your shit that loud and you’re gonna end up like me.”
It had taken Kurt almost two hours to get the hint that Finn wasn’t feeling particularly social. It was two hours of pretending to read for.... whatever class went with the text book in his lap, two hours of listening to some punk-pop-emo bullshit from the early 90s for Schue and trying not to drum for the few decent beats, two hours of steadfastly keeping his eyes down without falling asleep. Tricky balance, that one. After two hours, Kurt had finally gone upstairs claiming probably boredom. It wasn’t normal for old-Finn to sit still this long, especially on a Friday night, but this new version of him... well. It was doing what he had to do. This was how he decompressed -- alone and for long periods of time until his persistent almost-stepbrother went away.
That perfect meditation was shattered when he caught a pillow to the face. He grimaced at the spiced potpourri smell. Pillows should be neutral smelling, he thought as he pulled his headphones out and then realized Puck was the dirty rotten pillow launcher.
“How do you know how loud it was?” He volleyed back, even though it was kind of mean. He could only sign part of it, but he figured his lips could do the rest. He scowled, more in confusion than anything else. “And what are you up to tonight? I’m not leaving.”
