“You like that, huh?” he says, strumming it once. Jackson hums, content. Puck grins at him and sits on the floor, tugging Jackson onto his lap. “Play,” he requests, and Puck finds his little hand and ghosts it over the strings. Jackson twists around to look at him in awe. This look? It’s one of Puck’s favorites. It’s kind of tied with every other look this kid has ever given him, actually, but still. It’s a good one. “Uncle Finn bought me that when we found out about you,” he tells him.
It’s nice, talking to him like this. Like he’s an actual person who kind of gets it. Rachel’s all about how talking down to him and using cutesy voices all the time isn’t good for him, or something. Puck always figured that’d be easy, he’s not a cutesy dude, but then they took Jackson home from the hospital and his voice had this new moron tone.
He’s gotten better, but Rachel totally sucks at it. She’ll sit there and pinch his cheeks and sing with him and then her voice goes all, like, animated Disney princess. “Play,” Jackson says again, and Puck winks at him, positioning his fingers over the strings. They strum it together, once, twice, and Jackson hums again.
Rachel enters the room, then, smiling as she sees them there. “Are you playing guitar, Jackson?” she asks, and Puck watches Jackson’s eyes sparkle as he nods back at her. Kid’s just as hypnotized as he is, half the time. “Daddy’s the best at that,” she notes, and Jackson strums the guitar again as he mumbles, “Yeah.” He’s totally blown away by this instrument.
“You know, he hates his dance classes,” Rachel comments. She frowns a little and Puck laughs, “I know.”
“You know?” she asks, sitting down next to him. “How?”
“He’s my kid,” he shrugs. She looks at him like that’s not good enough. “Baby, my car window had smudges that looked like he tried to claw his way out of the back seat. I’m just saying, it’s pretty freakin’ clear.”