Time Frame → Late Thursday Night; September 10, 2020
Location → Brooklyn, NY; The Brownstone
General Notes → Briscoe wants to have a discussion about exes.
“Puck?” Briscoe called softly from his bedroom doorway.
She caught him untying his boots on the bench beneath the window. He’d already discarded his shirt and started a pile with it that he could trip over in the morning on the way to shower. She was wearing some slinky thing that she always wore to bed, so he knew Easy must have already been down for the count if she was doing her night prep shit. A glance at the clock told him he wouldn’t be much longer himself. “Hey, what’s up?”
If Puck didn’t know better, he’d say she looked a little sheepish as she stepped into his bedroom fully and chose a corner of his bed to perch on. “I wanted to talk.”
“Oh, that always ends well for me.”
“Not like that, stupid. Sit with me.”
He stood and kicked his boots off, then sat beside her and took her offered hand. “Everything okay, babe?”
“Fine, I just wanna talk about our family.” He watched her caress his hand with a furrowed brow; her nails were still the sharp stiletto points she wore to his uncle’s wedding and they tickled as she traced them back and forth across his palm and fingers and knuckles, turning and fiddling with his hand nervously. A distraction.
“What about us? Easy’s good,” he prompted and swiftly received a nod. “You and Sara are still good up there. Abuelitas and them all good?” Another nod. “So just me and you, then.”
She nodded again, but didn’t say anything further, just looked at their hands, so he joined their fingers together and took a deep breath. “Is this more of a state of us now thing or a why we didn’t work out the last time thing?”
She looked both grateful and annoyed at his question, but ultimately gave him another nod. “Kinda both. I’ve been thinking a lot since the wedding. And our fun little friendship table.”
“Sara swears she wasn’t in charge of the seating chart.”
“I kind of believe her after seeing all the looks she was getting from your exes.”
“You peeped that?”
She gave him a look of her own and deadpanned, “I think the band got louder to make up for the cloud of dead air that table emanated on and off all night.” He chuckled with her, but soon enough she was playing with their fingers again. “I thought it was interesting that Solomon didn’t bring his wife to the function.”
“He never brings her to family functions.”
“Jami isn’t his family.”
“Yeah, well, even if that was true, his stepmother and stepsister were there anyway.”
“And you. You were there.”
“You think he’s trying to get back with me?” he huffed, annoyed at the way the conversation was steering. “I haven’t talked to him like that in years.”
Typically he liked seeing Briscoe leaning back on his bed in something silky with a smile, but today’s smile looked a bit too shark-like for him to find it as appealing. Granted, it was still appealing, but not as appealing. “I think he wanted to talk to you like that again at the party,” she continued on through the grin, “but you know only Quinn Fabray and the physical manifestation of your relationship with me - the whole baby - stopped him.”
He snorted. “Why do you always say her full name?”
“Because she’s Quinn Fabray! Like your uncle is Jamil Levi! You don’t know, you’re too close - And I peeped the looks she was giving Solomon, too! Cuz why was he there?”
“He’s part of our family,” Puck offered, but was promptly ignored.
“He comes around when you’re around. And his wife is never there. And he’s always looking at you like you owe him something. And, might I remind you, he’s your uncle.”
“He’s not my uncle.”
“Dique - Real gringo shit regardless.”
“I thought you’d be more upset about Quinn, honestly.”
“Well, we haven’t even touched on that, yet,” she said absently, ignoring his sharp intake of breath to continue talking over the resulting loud huff he let out, “Were you in love with Solomon?”
“What?!”
“I’m just trying to suss out the extent of your relationship because you’re telling me one thing and I’m seeing another.” He dropped her hand and gently shoved her over so that she toppled onto his bed fully, then stood and moved to finish taking off his clothes. “So am I lying?”
“You telling me that you think I was lying? Yeah, you’re lying!”
“That man don’t love you?”
“I don’t know, Briscoe! You wanna call him?”
“Where’s your phone?”
“Jesus Christ.” He shoved down his pants until he was only left in his boxer briefs and socks, then climbed back onto the bed to knock her over again, pinning her with his body when she tried to get back up. “I’m not in love with him, I was never in love with him. I fucked around with him when he was interested in the outside of the closet and then I was with him as a rebound thing a few years ago, but I never loved him and he’s not a part of my life anymore.”
Bravado gone and mouth a full pout, Briscoe searched his face, looking for her conclusions, but obviously finding none since she asked, “Then why does he look at you like that? And don’t act like you don’t know how.”
Puck sighed, but ultimately gave in. He hated when she went all vulnerable on him. And he’d give her just about anything she asked for when he was cradled between her legs like this. “I asked him to leave his wife for me once.”
“Oh Dios…”
“Just once.”
“Oh, well, if it was only the once… So stupid.”
“Whatever. I was in my feelings about stuff around then,” he admitted. It was after breaking up with Quinn that last time - if that counted as a break up - when he was trying to seek whatever he’d been missing with one ex in the arms of another ex. Surprisingly, it didn’t work out. “Not love, but… feelings. And he said no, we broke up, it hurt a lot and then I got over it.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah.”
“He didn’t.”
“That’s not my problem. Is it?” He dipped his head to nuzzle at her temple.
“I guess not,” she sighed, curling her arms around his shoulders. “But why didn’t you tell Quinn Fabray about me?”
He dropped his face into her shoulder and let out a long groan.
Tagging → Quinn Fabray, Noah Puckerman, Kiran Basanti, Sara Puckerman, Abril Briscoe
Time Frame → Late Saturday Night; September 5, 2020
Location → Miami, FL; Uncle Jami’s restaurant
General Notes → At Uncle Jami’s wedding reception, Puck and Quinn see each other for the first time in years… Things are different. [Pinterest ScMoodboard] [Song: Hate the Club by Kehlani]
Tired of going out, scared I’ll run into you
Damn, you know I hate the club
But I came 'cause I knew you'd show up
Maybe if I drank enough
I'll make my way over to ya
Miami wasn't too bad of a place to get married, she supposed.
With the sun setting and the windows on the wall of the restaurant that faced the ocean all retracted to let in the warm, beachy breeze, Sara Puckerman would even say that it was nice. She still preferred Cabo, though. However, she’d never let herself say it out loud tonight because this wasn’t her wedding. It was her Uncle Jami’s.
So she put up with Miami traffic and the rest of Miami for him and his new bride, Evangeline.
“They look good,” her brother said unnecessarily because duh. Noah could be annoying at best, but redundantly annoying at his worst, so she just rolled her eyes and nodded all the same. “Can’t believe it took them ten years.”
“Hashtag: relationship goals.”
“Hashtag: follow me around for a decade so I know it’s real.”
“Hashtag: might as well make it official before we die,” Sara managed to snort out before they both devolved into giggles and got shushed (and poked) by their teïta. Oh yeah, Evangeline’s daughter was giving her little speech about her mother or whatever. But the couple really did look good; her uncle smiling his mischievous grin, looking every bit a famous music mogul in his expensive silk and gold chains in the setting Miami sun, his pretty wife on his arm in a flowing seafoam green gown and her hair draped with pearls like a mermaid who’d caught him with her song. They were made for this place - the city, the newly acquired restaurant that Sara surely would be contracted in filling with the most exquisite artwork from the galleries she worked with.
Her brother might complain that there were too many people at the wedding, but Sara and Evangeline had worked tirelessly to get it down to 300 guests, what with all of Jami’s contacts and celebrity friends made over the years. Of course, only 100 or so guests were invited to stay for the reception; company bigwigs and blood relatives. The most important concern Sara had about the guest list was whether or not they dressed in theme and when exactly Jami and Evangeline would realize that their niece made the theme Miami in the 80s without consulting them. Still, Chris Evans looked great in a vice jacket.
“Speech time,” Noah said and Sara sighed, but straightened so her shoulder pads wouldn’t droop as she made her way to the band stage and took the mic from Evangeline’s daughter with a hug.
“Hi everyone! I’m Sara, Jami’s favorite niece.” Sara smiled, a small thrill going through her like it always did when she spoke in public nowadays, not because she loved the spotlight, but because she overcame the shyness of it she had so long ago. “What can I say about Jamil Levi that hasn’t already been said - or isn’t being currently said?” She chuckled when she noticed the laugh she got out of her uncle. “Honestly, this wedding was such a long time coming, I thought this speech about my uncle would be delivered at his funeral, but here we are. Turns out he did right by my Auntie ‘Vangeline. Finally.” She had to take the mic away from her mouth to avoid cackling into it as the rest of the room echoed her “Finally!” The rest of the speech wasn’t too fancy, just a few stories about her and her brother being around her uncle and her finally aunt and seeing their romance and experiencing the fun of it with them.
“Honestly, you guys are legendary and I love you. And I’m very proud of myself for making it through this speech without crying… So anyway, here’s ‘Wonderwall,’” Sara said, signalling for Noel Gallagher to start his little song where he was waiting behind her on the stage with his guitar and walking off to hug her still laughing uncle. Then she pushed him towards his Evangeline so they could get their first dance on.
After a few minutes of feeling emotional, she decided to intercept a waiter with a tray of champagne and serve a few of the guests herself, thanking them for coming with a wide grin. She carried the mostly empty tray to her table and set it down to kiss Solo’s cheek before turning to beam at Quinn Fabray and her date. “Hey lovely! I’m so glad to see you!” She rushed in for a hug and cheek pecks giddily. “I missed you!”
There were very few people Quinn that would brave the sweltering Florida humidity for. Jami, luckily, was one of them. It was worth the trip, if only to see her mentor actually follow through with the nuptials with his frankly, fantastic intended. It'd been long enough, so long that at times if it hadn't been for the occasional piece in a magazine or celeb gossip site referring to Evangeline as Jami's 'longtime companion', Quinn would've figured they'd already tied the knot. It was sweet, having that kind of connection and Quinn was happy to be part of the day, watching them exchange vows with the rest of Jami and Evangeline's family, friends, and some famous faces because of course.
So she smiled along at Sara's speech, funny and heartfelt as it was. Her smile grew fonder when Kiran's arm curled around the back of her chair, his fingers brushing her shoulder in one of his sweet and subtle gestures. They watched as Noel took to the stage for the happy couple's first dance and Quinn chuckled at Kiran's nod of approval.
"Takes a hell of a guy to get Noel Gallagher's head outta his ass to play a gig," he mused and Quinn agreed with a hum. She'd only reached for her glass of champagne when Sara appeared, bringing her special brand of bubbly and a tight hug that Quinn returned. "Missed you too," she told her. "Feels like it's been forever. You look amazing."
With a giggle, Sara pulled back and shimmied her shoulder pads.
"And you - you look so good and, most importantly, on theme," she returned, a satisfied catlike grin on her face. With a tilt of her head that sent the waves of her bob swinging, she gave a wink to Quinn's date. "It's always so great to see you, too, Kiran. Thank you for coming to the last gallery showing! At least half of the dynamic could be there," she added, blinking innocently but deliberately to Quinn. "Not that I'm bitter that this is my first time seeing you in over a month or anything. In Florida of all places."
"Yeah, I have no idea how the hell you managed to get Jami to greenlight such a theme but I'll chalk it up to the power of Puckerman persuasion." Quinn definitely wasn't complaining, loving any chance to toss on something fun for such a happy occasion, and she knew as soon as she saw the colors and vibe it had Sara's artistic flair all over it. She didn't miss the dig about the long gap since their last meeting (it was hard not to, Sara's hint was as unsubtle as her shoulder pads), and Quinn shook her head while Kiran laughed.
"I'm just here as a designated purse holder," he quipped, lifting the clutch that'd been sitting in his lap since the pair had sat down. "But it's good to see you again. "
Quinn rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Please. I got the rundown since he wouldn't stop talking about your pieces. Feels like I was there too instead of being stuck in Atlanta." The Florida of it all made her smile, because despite the state, it was still a lovely setting. "Florida might not be so bad today, at least. I see that's your handiwork. But I should be around the city more in the next few weeks, so we'll make a plan."
"Well, you know I'm always all about the aesthetic no matter where we go, so I figured palms and neon will at least look good on the blogs." Sara started to tip back her glass of champagne, but paused when she caught a glimpse of someone over Quinn's shoulder. "And where are you two going?"
What answered her was a roll of eyes and the sound of flip-flops that had long ago been switched from her own borrowed pumps as her roommate flip-flopped around the couple Sara was speaking to and took a seat in the unoccupied chair beside them. Abril Briscoe didn't look too happy and neither did the almost 15-month old in her arms. "I'm sitting in my seat."
That made Sara's frown almost comical at that point as she looked between Abril, the empty seat next to her still and then Quinn and Kiran.
"Auntie Vange's seating chart sucks," she mumbled to herself before straightening and having a seat herself. "Quinn, Kiran, this is my roommate, Abril, and her little one, Ezekiel. Abril, this is Quinn and Kiran. Kiran owns that restaurant we went to for Amir's birthday and Quinn works on music stuff with Uncle Jami. It's more important than that, but I wouldn't be able to tell you."
Sara watched as her roommate's eyes went wide with recognition almost immediately, her back straightening as her face went suspiciously blank. "Quinn Fabray? Oh."
The pause in their conversation and the arrival of a new someone, toting another allowed Quinn to reach for her glass, taking a minute sip of the champagne as Sara made the introductions. Kiran offered a smile to Sara's roommate and a wave to the toddler in her arms while Quinn laughed at the broad overview of intros.
"That's the general gist, I guess." She nodded in greeting at the other woman, her smile turning curious at the reaction that followed, the shift in posture and expression. "Quinn Fabray, yes. I'm sorry, do we know each other?"
Quinn's gaze briefly shifted to Sara, but returned, polite but searching. Vaguely she wondered if Sara had ever mentioned having a roommate, and couldn't recall an earlier reference though the woman seemed to know who she was, and that was interesting.
Sara watched as more realization crossed Abril's face with a wince. "Oh, well, I guess you don't know who I am. That's fine. Okay." Then Abril turned to her expectantly.
"Oh, so I guess I don't really talk about my roomie that much," Sara said, mostly just so that there were words in the air taking up space and time until she could figure out how to spin this in the most gentle way. "It hasn't been that long; maybe 5 or so months, but I love being an auntie!"
Abril didn't look entertained as she shifted her baby in her lap and Sara didn't even glance at Quinn to see what she looked like. "Where's your brother, Sara?"
Quinn considered her reaction, further puzzled by the woman and her tone that edged on bothered. She looked at Sara just as Abril did, her confusion evident at the words offered that were in no way an explanation. In fact, it only seemed to add to the vibe, confusing and slightly awkward and Quinn felt Kiran shift beside her, his hand absently rubbing her shoulder while he reached for his drink and her gaze narrowed slightly at Sara's words. "I'm sorry, what? Auntie?"
Kiran had only lifted the glass to his lips when he glanced over, noting Quinn's question and the way Sara hadn't bothered to acknowledge Quinn after her comment. "Oh is this your son?" Kiran asked politely, smiling at Abril and the baby in her arms. "He's adorable."
When Abril turned back to Kiran to introduce Ezekiel properly, Sara felt a bit of relief from the heavy gazes, but she still knew better than to look at Quinn. Beautiful Quinn. Smart Quinn. Soon to shish-kabob her Quinn. Instead, she turned in her seat and stretched up to see if she could catch Noah. And there he was, her brother in his stupid Miami print shirt and gold chain dancing with their mother. She tried to set him on fire with her eyes as best as she could until he finally met her gaze and made his way over, confusion on his face as he pushed through the crowd. Abril was explaining that Easy was 15 months when Puck finally reached the table and frowned at the strained atmosphere. "Sara, what did you do?"
"Nothing! Why is - Why would I have done something? I'm just... sitting. Not drinking enough."
Rolling his eyes, he turned to nod at Quinn, then the man he recognized as Quinn's boyfriend Kiran, then finally smiled at Abril and the little boy in her lap who lit up at the sight of him and called out, "Honey!" Puck maneuvered around the table until he could pull his son out of Abril's lap and kiss his face all over. "Habibi! You having fun with Mommy and Auntie? Making new friends?" He turned back just in time to catch Sara dropping her face into her hand. "What am I missing?"
There were a few reactions she could sift through but so far, annoyed was winning out. It grew the longer Sara pointedly avoided her, and she grit her teeth. Watching Kiran make polite talk eased it a little, appreciative of his cool head in most situations which she supposed must come in handy working in a high stress environment like a kitchen. This felt like a damn setup. Her face was neutral, with a decidedly frosty expression in hazel eyes. The woman she now knew as Sara's roommate was clearly more. To Sara and apparently Puck. Who managed to breeze through, festive for the occasion, and she barely acknowledged his greeting though Kiran managed a hello. Her focus was on the child, who looked very much like his father. He was indeed adorable, and she could admit that despite her irritation.
"It would seem that I'm the one who missed something," Quinn replied, her tone even and deceptively light. "Guess I'm further out the loop than I'd realized. You have a son."
Despite Quinn's possession of the notion, Puck still found himself really confused at the way she spoke. "Yeah, well... we haven't spoken in a minute, so..."
He noticed Abril shifting awkwardly in her seat and sat down next to her, letting Easy stand on his lap and press moist (always moist) hands against his cheeks while humming, "Hnn-nee, hnn-nee." The mother of his child had a tight expression on her face, one he knew they would be addressing as soon as they got away from this table. "Weird seating arrangement, huh? Hey Solo."
"That's what I'm saying!" Sara burst out, ignoring how their step-uncle-slash-Noah's fucking ex boyfriend quickly looked away as if her wasn't paying attention and turning instead to Quinn, wonderful, beautiful, sizzling under the surface Quinn. "I really wanted to avoid all this awkwardness. This just sort of happened. I should've looked at the seating chart."
Puck didn't quite understand Sara's apologetic tone towards Quinn; despite them being broken up for longer than they'd been together, his sister had maintained a friendship with the woman and was careful not to flaunt it in his face. Unlike the rest of his family - oh, maybe that's why Abril was upset. He stood suddenly and tightened his grip on the boy. "Hey, Briscoe, let's talk a little. Excuse us, please."
Quinn wasn't entirely certain Sara hadn't been responsible for the seating arrangements, considering how involved she'd been with planning. And now she was saddled with surprises and forced small talk. She conceded Puck's point with a small tilt of her head, and fully ignored Sara's thin explanation about awkwardness. Awkward, she expected. There would always be a little bit in interactions with Puck's family. She could manage that, considering she was hardly around them much, at least in such great numbers. She hadn't even noticed Solo had also been seated there. Ambushed, however, was a different matter. A surprise in toddler form, looking like a perfect mix of her ex and the woman who apparently knew enough about her to be bothered. Quinn watched as Puck stood and excused himself, and turned to Kiran.
"Think we could both use a refill. Do you mind?" He nodded, and she knew he was grateful for an escape, giving her shoulder a squeeze before getting up and heading to the bar. With the table a little less crowded, Quinn turned her focus to Sara, irritation evident in her eyes. "Seriously?"
"Oh, don't look at me like that." Sara could understand that this was a lot of information to process for Quinn, but she was sure there was a way she could leave this conversation without blame. "How was I supposed to know my aunt was going to put every person Noah ever fucked at the same table as the cousins?"
"The fact that you think the seating arrangement is the problem let's me know you're full of it," Quinn replied tersely. She shook her head. "You seem to have left out a ton of important information in those sporadic phone calls."
"Well, ehh." Maybe now was not the time or place to argue about the seating arrangement, Sara conceded. She tapped acrylics together to give her fingers something to do and then looked imploringly to Quinn. "Okay, you have to understand how not fair this is for me, right? My brother hasn't spoken to you in years - you haven't spoken to me about my brother in years - so by the time I realized you didn't know he had a baby, it was kinda weird to bring the baby up. Right?" Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. "But you didn't even recognize Abril - did you unfollow me on Instagram?"
Quinn cut her a sharp look, but it was a fair point; the subject of Puck hadn't been brought up for a long time. That particular chapter of her life had closed and her relationship with Sara had operated independent of what no longer existed between Quinn and the elder Puckerman.
"Right, so the choices were say nothing or wedding ambush? Makes sense." She scoffed and wished Kiran would return with her drink. She was in dire need of something heavy on the whiskey or gin. Sara's question made her brow furrow; She'd unfollowed Puck a long time ago, feeling as if a clean slate would be better in the long run, but not Sara.
"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "But I turned off notifs ages ago and haven't really kept up with social media in some time." Saying it aloud made her sound like just the type of 'too busy for you' celebs she hated, but she had been preoccupied with a seemingly non-stop schedule, it was possible that the error was also on her, as well. Quinn sighed. Still annoyed, but slightly less, she turned to Sara. "How long has she been living with you?"
"Just since the beginning of the year when Abril's lease was up. It was Puck's idea. We collectively decided to buy a brownstone." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand at that and got back to what she wanted to talk about: her. "No ambush, sis. At the most, I thought you'd see them across the room and just come to the natural conclusion." With an impressive shrug of her big shoulders, Sara tipped the rest of her champagne back. "But you forgive me for this and I'll forgive you for being too famous for me, yeah?"
"I see." Quinn gave a short nod. The 'natural conclusion' seemed like a shitty way to avoid responsibility, but pointing that out felt like an argument she wasn't trying to have on someone else's wedding day, when there was alcohol to drink and exes to pointedly avoid. "You're not off the hook, not by a mile," Quinn warned, though there was no real bite behind it. That would come later when they weren't caught up in the atmosphere of love, and at least not in the presence of a handful of Grammy award winners. "But I'll consider this a truce."
"We'll chat in New York," Sara promised, more relieved than anything that nothing got loud. Though she was sure any incident would soon be overshadowed by the inevitable celebrity nonsense, but still she hated when Quinn was annoyed with her. She opened her mouth to say as much, but then was stopped at the return of Abril and her little boy to their seat. "Hi, Easy! Auntie missed you."
"I'm sure Auntie did," Abril said, shaking her head at Sara and turning to Quinn. "I'm so sorry about... that. There was some confusion, but I think Puck cleared it up for me pretty good. It's nice to meet you, Quinn, especially since you understand what it's like to be around these people."
Sara rolled her eyes and glanced behind herself to see where Puck had gone off too. Surprisingly, he and Kiran were standing at the bar, talking over glasses of something amber. She narrowed her eyes at that - typical men.
"I'm sure," was all she managed to get out before Abril returned, son in tow. Quinn offered a polite smile to the woman and her apologetic words. It seemed she'd been a victim of the weird circumstances as well and Quinn wasn't about to hold that against her. Her smile shifted to genuine laughter at 'these people', knowing exactly how Puck's family could be in any given situation. "No need to apologize, it's totally fine. They're practically a twenty-four hour telenovela." Her gaze fell briefly to the little boy. "You have a beautiful son. I'm sure Teïta has been very busy spoiling the hell out of him."
She'd only seen the older woman briefly but was sure there'd be an ambush in her future later on, especially with Kiran in tow. Kiran, who, as she followed Sara's gaze was apparently chatting up Puck at the bar. Quinn could only imagine that conversation but opted against it.
"Oh, thank you." Abril pressed a kiss to her baby's sugar brown curls, obviously grateful that the earlier tension was gone. She smiled a bit at the mention of Teïta. "I mean, yala, like, I'm surprised she isn't already over here scooping him up. She was in the hotel room last night with just snacks on snacks on snacks. He thought it was Christmas and tried to leave with her when she left to go back to her room. Noah had to bring him to her room this morning, too."
Quinn laughed, knowing few kids could resist a food haul and tempting grandparents. "That's adorable. And pretty relatable. That snack rush is a good one." Her gaze drifted back to the bar, noting the drink beside Kiran's hand that was clearly meant for her she shook her head. "I know he's forgotten all about my cocktail," she muttered, shaking her head as Kiran and Puck continued their conversation. She turned back to Sara and Abril and flashed them a quick smile. "If you ladies will excuse me, I need to go rescue my damn drink from that social butterfly."
Quinn got up and made her way to the bar, catching the tail end of conversation about...movies. Which seemed anticlimactic and no real excuse for why her drink wasn't in hand. "Almost thought you were behind the bar making it yourself," she told her boyfriend. She smiled when he did and accepted the highball glass he passed to her, taking a long sip and savoring the smooth bite of the whiskey sour.
"Sorry, we kinda ran into Chris Evans and that sparked a whole action movie debate." Kiran shook his head. "Plus some prime people-watching happening at the bar. Puck's good for the running commentary."
Quinn regarded Puck, and gave a brief nod. "I'm sure."
"Well, you know most of these people, right? I'm sure you already know what we're saying, Fabray," Puck said, nodding back to his ex. He took a sip of his drink and regarded the pair over it, hazel eyes deliberate in the way they swept over Quinn and her dress before dragging up the long form of Kiran in his suit. They looked good together. "Kiran, I know my uncle was interested in your opinion on the venue since he bought it. I don't think he even named it yet, but he wouldn't shut up about the kitchen when he gave us the tour yesterday."
She could, considering it was a weird mix of faces in the crowd. Quinn hadn't done much mingling since small talk with celeb types felt like work and this was strictly a non-work trip, so she could settle for petty snipes. "I've probably said worse, so yes."
Mentions of a kitchen and Quinn knew Kiran would be interested, face brightening and he glanced around.
"It's a beautiful place. If the kitchen's anything like the view, I'm sure he won't have a hard time finding a head chef to run the place. I know plenty of people looking to be poached if he's interested." Quinn shook her head. "Ruthless. Jami likes hijacking talented people, so he'll probably consider it."
She fished out the cherry in her drink, chewing on the sweet maraschino before speaking again.
"How's work?" she asked Puck, figuring his job was a safe topic and also, she was curious about where it had taken him.
Tucking away the idea of chef poaching to present to his uncle later, Puck gestured for the bartender to bring them all a new round of drinks. He arched a brow at Quinn's rather diplomatic question, but answered, "I'm with the New York Aquarium now. The team there is amazing - Abril's actually our director - and we're pretty excited about this year's exhibits. You should tell Frannie about it. I bet her kids would love it. I remember Vinni freaking out about the octopuses, but I'm sure she's over it by now."
That was surprising, learning he worked with Abril, though Quinn's expression remained unchanged. "That's great for you," she offered, the compliment simple but sincere, lips eventually lifting in a brief smile at the mention of her sister and niece. "Octopuses had a good run, but she's pretty deep into a mermaid obsession. I'm sure it won't take much convincing that the aquarium's got a few merfolk to get her excited about it. I'll let Fran know." Frannie would surely appreciate the gesture, getting the kids out and also seeing Puck. Though Quinn wondered how she'd take the news of Puck's baby-shaped surprise. "The twins have never been to an aquarium, far as I know. It'll be a good first experience for them."
"Oh God, mermaids," Puck snorted, remembering a whole debacle about the same subject when Abril first got the director position. "You guys might need to bring Vinni to Coney Island for that one, but I'm sure the twins will have a blast. Ever since Easy started walking, he acts like every visit is the first time. It's cute." He accepted his new drink with a brief quirk of lips to the bartender. "So what's new with you guys? Another restaurant? Another Grammy? Or is that just same shit, different day, hmm?"
Perhaps it was the newness of it all (and of course the surprise pelting of information), but hearing Puck mention his son (his son) was so surreal. Quinn knew a wedding definitely wasn't the time to process all of that, but the ease in which he casually referenced a moment with his son (his son, Jesus would that ever stop sounding so...next dimension), it was intriguing. And a little endearing. There was a flavor of the Puck she'd known, tucked beneath the palm-printed dress shirt. Something in the way he sipped his drink, what he ordered, and the way he could casually keep up a conversation without really revealing much at all. That, she could recall, despite the passage of time and the wildly different places they found themselves in. Quinn smiled at Kiran when he plucked her empty glass from her hands and replaced it with the new round that Puck had ordered, letting the small lift of lips linger when she turned to Puck.
"They're great at that age," she replied politely. "Everything's just fun and new and you're a bit jealous of their energy level. Vinni still kicks my ass with every auntie outing." She sipped her whiskey. "No more awards just yet but I'm good and busy. Can't complain at all."
Kiran nodded. "'Bout the same. New restaurant's opening in Atlanta in a few months. I'll be glad when it is, my hair can't take this stress." He patted the side of his stylish cut and Quinn smiled, gently rapping her knuckles upside his head.
"You're fine, stop fishing for compliments." She glanced at Puck. "Sara mentioned you bought a brownstone? Major level adulting happening."
At the mention of energy levels, Puck looked beyond the couple just in time to catch the sight of Ezekiel spilling something across the table causing Abril's face to twist in the way it did before curses in multiple languages started to fly. Snorting softly through his nose at both his son's antics and the humbleness of the pair beside him, he couldn't help but watch and admire their dynamic. Quinn gave nothing away as always, but he knew her enough still to see that she and this guy... Kiran - they were happy. One of those couples that made you imagine the intimacy between them, maybe not the kind Puck's mind automatically jumped to, but he could picture them laughing together on the cab ride back to their hotel, Quinn resting her head on his shoulder, Kiran knowing to twine their fingers together without asking. It was nice and it didn't hurt to see as much as Puck always thought it would.
"God, that fucking brownstone," Puck said when his mind finally caught up with the conversation. "For whatever reason, it's in my name, but that's all Sara and Abril." He took a sip of his drink, rolling the bourbon on his tongue at the thought of the check Sara had tried to give him then decided to give to Abril as 'our dad's gift to his grandson' when Puck rejected it. Sure enough, the Brooklyn brownstone they put a down payment on was in the seven-figure range, but there were enough people paying on the mortgage that by the time Easy was old enough to own property, it would be paid off.
"I got this deal, right? With the housing association? I'm the super for the block. So basically I haven't known peace for the last six months." As if he summoned it, he had to move to the side a bit so that someone long and dressed in something slinky could rub a hand against his bicep on her way to calling down the bartender, but he just rolled his eyes. "Just had a flashback; you wouldn't believe how many times this one mother of four 'loses' the battery to her fire alarm."
Quinn had noticed the subtle shift in Puck's gaze, and figured he was no doubt keeping watch of the happenings at the table. Which was interesting, seeing him in parent mode. Interesting, and still pretty damn surreal. She chalked it up to time, passing as it did. The only explanation she could think of that would've brought them to this point, Puck with a kid and a brownstone in tow...and apparently the complaints of a few floors worth of whiny tenants. The idea of Puck--he of the short patience--being anyone's super only added to the familiarity of that general chaotic weirdness of his life that Quinn was glad to see he maintained. She'd called them 'Wandering Jew' tales back in the day, and remembering that little tidbit was enough to make her smile, grin growing when Kiran laughed at Puck talking about the attention his position in the building afforded him.
"That's not surprising at all," she replied. "Those housewives always appreciate a pretty face who's handy with a step ladder. Sure you're very popular with all the Fabletics crowd."
"Fabletics..." At that, the man gave an over-dramatic shudder. "So much Lululemon and early afternoon red wine." With another shudder, Puck shook his head a last time, then tossed back the rest of his drink. As much as he, surprisingly, didn't mind catching up with Quinn and Kiran, he could sense a tantrum coming along - whether from Abril or Easy, he wasn't sure, but he knew he needed to intercept. "Well, it's good to see you guys here. I'm glad y'all are doing well and, Kiran, you gotta tell me more about Atlanta when we get back to the table, but let me go get habibi before he wanna be startin' somethin', y'know?"
He nodded at the couple and maneuvered around them to head back to the table just in time to scoop up the little boy who had just scrunched up his face. "None of that. Let's go step on the beach, huh? I know you're tired of everyone."
Ezekiel just whined and placed his face in his father's neck. Glancing over all the curls, Puck met his sister's eyes in a significant enough way to get her sighing. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his ex... or his other ex... or his other ex, but they were all sitting at the table through duck and dessert, so it was now or never.
"Abril knows about you and Solo, right?" Sara asked as soon as they stepped out of the restaurant and onto the stone path towards the water. "Yeah, she knows about everything. I'm sure she just didn't expect to have him sitting across from her. Or Quinn sitting next to her."
"Why are you talking to me like I arranged the seating? Because I. Did. Not. I'm just as... flabbergasted as everyone else. It's like an episode of Maury or something," she huffed, halting as the stones petered off so her heels wouldn't sink in the sand. Puck was kind enough to stop with her, letting Easy slide down his body to hang off his leg. "Are you okay?"
At first, the question felt weird because people didn't usually ask him, but eventually he nodded. "I'm fine. It's... I'm fine. I expected to see her, but I didn't expect to be fine about it. Y'know?"
"I know," Sara looked at him softly for a moment and then gestured back to the party. "Go back in. I'll sit out here with Ease for a little while you mingle. We could both use a break."
"You sure?" At her nod, he bent and picked up his now wiggling little boy, then passed him to his aunt. Then he walked back into the party.
"Seems like duty calls," Kiran remarked as the pair watched Puck walk back towards their table to mercifully relieve Abril from what Quinn could see was the beginnings of a kiddie meltdown. That in itself was...surprising, and she gave a small hum at her boyfriend's casual observation. For her part, she drained her glass and debated another. She hated drinking too much around a work crowd but figured since it was a wedding (and she'd had enough surprises to make shit awkward), another wouldn't hurt. She ordered a whiskey sour, lips lifting in a small smile when Kiran's hand reached past her to tip the bartender. She caught his fingers in her grasp afterwards, linking them sweetly and turning her face to meet his, glad when he took the hint and leaned in for a brief kiss that was exactly right in the moment. They moved out of the way for the rest of the party goers, lingering on the edges of where tables met the dancefloor that many seemed to be taking advantage of and Kiran gave her hand a small squeeze.
"Just know if we're forced into some kinda line dance, that's our cue to exit" he told her, waiting for the laugh that would follow and sure enough, the rasp of it was enough to make him smile. "I don't know if the cupid shuffle is a valid reason to duck out, but it's a very strong case."
Running away just yet didn't seem like an option. Even if the seating arrangements were...less than ideal. Still, their brief interaction with Puck at the bar proved civil was possible. Hell, Quinn would even call it pleasant. Perhaps that was the liquor talking because she was still stuck on surreal with the son reveal, and figured that wasn't changing anytime soon. Still, it was manageable. Especially with Kiran. "We can take a lap around the party, head back when it's time for you to pretend like you aren't judging the food."
Tagging → Noah Puckerman
Time Frame → Early, Early Monday Morning | May 29th, 2017
Location → 15 Goldsmith Ave | Newark, NJ
General Notes → Sigh.
Color of the sky as far as I can see is coal grey.
Lift my head from the pillow and then fall again.
Shiver in my bones, just thinking about the weather.
He woke up that morning less surprised that he was in an unfamiliar bed and more so shocked that he had managed any sleep.
The sheets he was tangled in had stripes and they matched the curtains that we cracked just enough to shine the sun directly into his eyes. The woman pressed against his back was still asleep, he could feel it from the even rise and fall of her breasts against his spine and the moist warmth of her breath on his neck. This was probably the time to leave - he didn’t have to look at the clock to know that it was too early and he had only just finished making a dent in the mattress and a notch in the headboard a couple hours prior - and traffic probably wouldn’t be so bad. Plus he thought he was still in Queens, so...
This was most definitely the best time to leave. But he was exhausted.
Not just his body, but lying there as he was, warm and pressed against someone else, curling away from the sun and whatever the fuck else was going on outside that window, even the thought of moving beyond the end of the mattress was daunting. The sex was good, yeah, but the thing keeping him in this bed was the unappealing fact that he was going to have to place his feet on the ground, stand and… function.
Then, the woman behind him shifted and murmured something into the flesh of his shoulder and something in him clicked. As if an imaginary chart or something had hit a limit or quota, he was suddenly done with interactions - human ones that involved other individuals that breathed and had independent thought. That feeling pushed him out of the bed and had him washing his junk in her sink and getting the fuck out of there.
He didn’t even feel comfortable with the people saying excuse me as he stomped his path home - though in New York he didn’t have to worry about that often - and once he got back to his apartment, he was grateful that it was still early enough that Sara hadn’t snuck back in and everything was dark and quiet and familiar. He tore his clothing off, vowed to shower and wash his sheets even as he climbed into his bed and patted himself on the back for never putting away the pile of blankets and comforters he used this winter, even though it was hot as balls in his room.
“What the fuck is wrong?” he asked the ceiling. And of course it didn’t answer him. Just like he wanted.
You’re taking it a little far there don’t you think? Besides, at least with Snapchat there’s no evidence if you’re trying to juggle an entire Rolodex.
Taking what far? That joke? Maybe. I just know whenever I get nudes I tend to want to look at them more than once before I delete them. Oh, so Snapchat’s for those secret freaks that still feel shame. Got it.
Why would you want to save those anyway? I know they say a picture is worth a thousand words, but seeing it in person could fill books.
What can I say? I’m old fashioned. I like having a Rolodex of tits and ass. But you’re definitely right. Plus, seeing it in person means you can be more hands on.
That is essentially the purpose of Snapchat. I mean, I follow certain celebrities and stuff, but mainly? Most people use it for pictures of body parts. But you can totally save them if you want to.
I was informed about the snitch ass screenshot system they got going on. Like, I wasn’t expecting facebook, but I also wasn’t expecting instagram: the exclusive DM edition.
