What's the Point of being Popular (if you can't do what you want?) Chapter 8
Title: What's the Point of being Popular (if you can't do what you want?)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sam/Puck
WHOA! I know, right? Another chapter, and it's been like one day?
What can I say, I felt like I should post a bit more given how much time has been going between posts.
Huge thanks, always, to Hey_Doey_Doey, who is an incredible beta reader and much better writer than I; Check out her new Sam/Puck fic for a window into my headcannon.
------
Chapter 8
They arrived late to Santana’s party that night. Puck had to wait at home until his dad arrived to pick up his sister, and both he and Sam took a shower. Puck lent Sam some jeans and a grey T-shirt and he couldn’t help noticing out awesome the cut looked on him.
Puck parked his truck on the curb a little way down the street and pulled out a flask he’d brought to help supplement the beer. He offered it to Sam first.
“I don’t know Puck... last time I got drunk I just got myself into trouble...” Sam looked at the flask uncertainly in Puck’s out-stretched hand.
“This is just the Glee club, and I think we’re both feeling the need to unwind a bit. A couple of hits from this thing isn’t going to hurt anybody. We’ll probably crash here anyway.” Puck didn’t pull the flask away and Sam took it gingerly, throwing back a hit and gasping as the alcohol burned his throat. He scrunched his face up as he was swallowing the vodka and Puck had to clamp down his smile. Sam saw it anyway and pushed the flask back at him with a grin.
Puck threw a hit of alcohol back like a pro, trying his best not to let a grimace show on his face - it was cheap vodka. After that they both shouldered their way out of their respective doors and Puck grabbed the case of beer from the back of the truck. Sam nudged him as they walked down the street toward the largest house on the block and Puck let out a laugh, moving quickly to nudge Sam right back, but he danced out of the way playfully. Carrying the case of beer prevented Puck from going all out after him, and Puck resolved to catch the guy unawares some point at the party and throw him in the pool.
There were little fairy lights in all the trees outside Santana’s house. They made their way across the front lawn and followed a sign around the side gate back out to the garden and the pool. A bunch of glee clubbers were standing around talking and drinking near the pool and Puck quietly kicked himself for not remembering to bring his trunks - there was no telling if the night would spontaneously turn into a pool party. There were more fairy lights through all the trees; they provided an awesome soft glow to everything and outlined the pool and the lawn. Puck couldn’t help but be reminded of the glowing trees and stuff in Avatar and felt heat in his face at the thought; the company he’d been keeping was going to max out his dork meter.
Santana spotted them and sauntered over. She was wearing heels and a red dress with white flowers in her hair, and Puck was amazed. Looking at her, he didn’t feel the usual urge to strip her out of her clothes and... he just felt dazzled. She was devastatingly beautiful.
“Only one case?” Was all she said to him and he smirked. “I figured you tagged at least four people with beer duty. When you told us about the party the look on your face screamed disappointment that we were together at the time. Figured you planned on having both bring beer independently.” Puck turned and made for the drinks table to deposit the beer, and Santana kept with him. Puck scanned the crowd quickly for Sam and saw him grabbing a couple of red cups from a bag.
“Maybe, but Sam was already off the beer hook. I’ll find some other way for him to contribute; can’t be expecting cash investment from a kid who can’t afford to re-dye his hair.” She smirked and split open the cardboard box with a flick of her wrist and started pulling out bottles.
“Don’t bother, he’s tagged with my beer money. Paid for half of it - he’s off the contribution hook.” Puck didn’t care in the least about the beer money. After his mom had caught him with a bottle of vodka they’d had a long talk, and she paid for half of his beer on the promise that he’d never drink more than what she knew about. Her concessions to his party-animal side always surprised him.
Santana turned once she’d finished unpacking the beer and looked at him. She smirked again. She had an amazing grasp of people, Puck was pretty surprised she hadn’t clicked to Sam’s changed situation yet - but he figured she was preoccupied with Britney. She gave a soft, somehow ladylike shrug, as if to say, *‘Maybe he helped pay for the beer, but that boy isn’t off any hooks yet.’*.
Puck shrugged at Santana. He knew she wouldn’t give any better, but he was pretty confident Santana wasn’t in the mood to be chasing Sam into any party-jobs just for the hell of it. Besides, if she needed someone to man the bar or move some tables Puck figured Sam would be happy to do it, and Puck could just chill with him to keep him company.
Just then, Sam came up and passed Puck a red party cup with his name scrawled onto it in big block letters, and Santana looked on as Puck took it. She glanced at him, and Puck tried to convey, silently, that if she pointed out that the K in PUCK was backwards on his cup, he would create consequences for her.
Changing the subject smoothly, she turned toward Sam and her lips curled into a devilish smile.
“The soul queen was looking for you, trouty mouth.” Santana sipped her drink without taking her eyes off the pair of them.
“Thanks.” Sam offered Puck a fist-bump before going off to find Mercedes.
Puck reached over to the huge ice-basin on the drinks table and plucked out a scotch and cola mix. He cracked it open and poured the whole thing into his newly-customised cup. He actually really liked the unique way it was written. He made a mental note to try and keep it after the party was done.
Part of the reason Santana had her reputation for throwing the best parties was because she knew how to split up all the work and spread it out over everyone. There was always plenty of free-to-share alcohol, and she usually set up a proper bar inside and had someone manning it for the night. For bigger parties she even designated a couple of people as drivers, but the glee club wasn’t big and Puck figured most of them were crashing anyway.
Puck was sure that Santana was the only one in the school who could invite someone to one of the most raging parties on the calendar, command them not to drink and have it actually stick. He remembered she had once caught a driver sneaking a vodka tonic. She had drafted a group of hockey players into service and seconds later the dude was deposited bodily into the pool, vodka tonic and all. Santana was the party queen; *nobody* crossed her. It made Puck feel proud to be friends with her.
He threw back the rest of his drink and grabbed two beers from the table. Moving inside, he spied Sam standing with Mercedes at the bar.
Passing quickly through the dance room Puck walked up to where Sam and Mercedes were talking. Sam was facing away from him so as a sort of *hello* Puck held a cold beer up against the back of Sam’s neck. The way the other boy jumped was enough to make Puck crack a grin and Sam turned, rubbing his neck. He returned the smile grudgingly when he saw it was Puck and took the beer from him with a nod. Puck took a pull on his drink and said hey to Mercedes.
It felt like he was interrupting something so Puck walked off a little to stand at the bar. Mike was barman for the hour, probably getting the shift out of the way as early as possible, so Puck struck up a bit of a conversation with him.
After awhile Santana came around to check on everything and Puck called Sam and Mercedes over for some shots. Mike set them up with some crazy shots with orange liqueur and something strong with a weird name, and they were awesome. Puck was starting to feel pleasantly warm in the stomach and he told himself to be cool and slow down. He got Mike to make him something colourful and weak and decided to take his time with it.
The party was picking up - almost everyone from the glee club had arrived by that point, and Puck noticed here and there a couple of unfamiliar faces. He figured Santana was working her own agenda to bring in new, ‘Santana-approved’ recruits to the club. She was like his mom; she thought long term - they were graduating, and almost the whole glee club would be wiped out. The only way to keep it going was to train new people now.
Puck realised that must be the reason Santana put so much effort into a relatively tiny party. He wandered off to find her - he wanted to congratulate her on her deviousness. Puck figured it was as good a way as any to pass time until he could go and hang out with Sam. He almost walked into a chair and the music in the dance room felt like it was inside his head, so when he got to the kitchen he chugged a cup of water from the jugs that Santana always kept full on the kitchen bench. The kitchen usually became the recovery area - Santana liked people to drink water on their trips between the bar and the outside area.
Time was speeding up a little because before Puck knew it he was chatting to Artie in the back yard. He still hadn’t really done the obligatory after-summer catch-up with most of the glee kids. The party was the perfect chance to reconnect with everyone. Artie had spent a lot of time visiting relatives over the break, so Puck asked him all about it and did his best to concentrate on what Artie was telling him, but he kept getting distracted. First he noticed that their drinks were empty, so he told Artie to hold up while he grabbed fresh beers from the table. Then his spider sense started ringing in his ears and he saw Quinn slipping into the house, probably headed for the bar. Then Santana appeared in front of him and took his beer away, replaced it with a cup of water and a ban on drinking for half an hour.
Puck couldn’t help but pout, even though he was glad she was keeping an eye on him, and he knew he was going a little fast. Having Quinn in the building only increased his urge to chug whatever was in reach. He took a deep breath and looked around for Artie again but he’d already wheeled off to talk to some of the fresh faces. Puck found Tina and asked her about Asian Camp. She was so much more talkative now than when he’d first met her, though Puck had never really found her fake stutter convincing.
Puck was going to go and talk to Finn but from the looks of things he and Rachel were deep in a relationship-conversation, so instead he rounded up Santana, Britt and Tina and they went in to the dance floor. Someone had to be first to bust some moves. He wasn’t much of a dancer but his time in glee had given him a solid base. He tried not to grab his crotch or anything too much, no reason to be too suggestive, and besides, none of the girls were even available.
For some reason that thought made Puck realise that he hadn’t seen Sam in like, ages. He asked Santana if he was good to drink again and she gave him a thumbs up, but Puck’s head felt really fuzzy so he figured he’d wait a little bit longer before grabbing anything strong. He swayed as he wove through the dancers on the floor toward the bar room to find Sam. Mercedes was on the dance floor and pulling out some pretty sweet moves, so Puck figured he was all clear to go and chill with Sam for a while.
He got to the arch leading to the bar and squinted. There were only little directed lights in the bar room, and stronger ones over the bar, but in comparison to the club atmosphere of the room behind him it was a big change. He braced himself against the wall and looked around slowly, he was pretty sure Sam hadn’t gone outside.
There weren’t many people in here, for the moment no one was behind the bar - but there were some kids sitting on the couch and chatting.
Sam was sitting at the bar. Puck was momentarily really happy to have spotted him. Then he saw Quinn, sitting beside him, hand on Sam’s chest gripping a fistful of the grey T-shirt that Puck had leant him. They were making out.
At the exact moment that Puck saw, Sam pulled away from the kiss and Quinn looked right at Puck. She looked him straight in the eye and smirked. She knew he was there. Sam turned to follow her gaze and his eyes met Puck’s and they went wide and Sam jumped to his feet, but Puck was already pulling back through the dancers and through the kitchen. He picked up a beer from the bench and headed out away from the party and up the stairs.
#
One of Puck’s favourite things about Santana’s house was that you could climb out of her bedroom window onto the roof. When they were younger they would sit out there and watch the stars. They’d started drinking out there. Hell, Puck’s first time had been on a flat part of the roof when he’d brought some blankets out and they’d had a secret midnight picnic.
After a few minutes of sitting out there and drinking his beer and trying to make sense of Quinn and Sam making out, Santana showed up. Santana was always on top of what happened in her house so it wouldn’t have taken more than a couple of minutes for her to find out what had sent Puck running; after that the roof was the first place she would look. Puck was glad there was *someone* that he could actually trust.
He was relieved when she showed up. Talking to Santana was one of his pressure-release rituals, and he figured she’d be able to sort out his head for him. On the other hand, he didn’t know if it would be okay to tell her about Sam being gay...
“I brought you a spare.” She said, passing him a fresh beer and making herself comfortable next to him. The night was warm and the stars were burning crazy bright and the light spilling out of the bedroom window onto the roof cast strong shadows against the roof tiles.
“I wanted to go straight out to my truck and leave, but I’ve been drinking… and I don’t want to be like that. The one who runs out, like my father. This was the only other place.”
“What does the shithead have to do with anything?” Santana was sitting close enough that they could talk quietly, and whenever they talked in low voices it was like any barriers between them were suspended. They could talk about anything. Puck suddenly felt bad for not opening up to her before about what he’d been feeling about Quinn.
“I couldn’t leave Sam here. I don’t know what to do, *he was kissing Quinn*... but I couldn’t leave. Fuck, I feel trapped.” He ran his free hand through his hair. Suddenly he hated it. At least before he could hide under his ‘hawk.
Santana sat beside him quietly. She always waited patiently when she didn’t have all the facts, and eventually Puck always filled in the blanks.
“Sam’s family ditched him a week ago,” The words sounded so matter-of-fact coming out of his mouth. “He’s been living with me.” If Santana was surprised she didn’t bat an eyelid. “I’m not gonna be like them, I’m not going to be the next one to fucking leave him… but what do I do? He basically just stabbed me in the back. He knows how messed up I’ve been about Quinn.” He spat the last part and took a long pull on his beer. He held out his hand for the backup and Santana passed it to him without comment.
“She got me to take her out a couple of weeks back. She said she wanted to feel like herself again. Apparently the only way she can do that is to kick me out of her house half-naked and then pretend I don’t exist.” Talking about it made it seem ten times worse. He couldn’t believe Sam would come out to him - was he even? - and then turn around and suddenly be making out with... did he even *know* what was going on between Puck and Quinn?
“She was doing it to punish you, Puck.” Santana spoke quietly. She was looking up into the sky. “She wants to hurt you, she thinks you weren’t there for her. She blames herself for giving up the kid. I doubt Sam had much choice in the matter. I was talking to Mercedes earlier and Sam just doesn’t shut up about you. Mercedes was trying to talk to him about his summer but apparently the Mop-top only wants to talk about you.”
Puck felt a bit warmer at that, but it just made things worse. Things were even more messed up now than they were before. He wanted badly to punch Evans in the gut, but that feeling was being overpowered by a strong desire to have Sam’s arms around him again. He wasn’t used to feeling like this about someone. Like if he didn’t go down and find Sam straight away and spend every second he could just being with him… Puck shook himself.
Santana was watching him carefully now. On any given day Santana was a master when it came to watching people and working them out; this, coupled with her unflinching, unapologetic honesty had gained her her reputation as a queen bitch.
“Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into? If he’s living with you... Do you realise that Sam is very... open minded?” Puck recognised her ‘delicate’ voice, even though she rarely used it. It took a moment for the words to sink through the alcohol in Puck’s brain. After the second the translation came through loud and clear: *‘Dude, Sam is a fag. He’s adorable and everything, but fags are like puppies: once you take them home with you they start getting attached.’* Puck was about to object to the use of the word ‘fag’ before he realised that he really needed to adjust his alcohol translator. He told himself off for using a word like that, even in his head. Something like that never would have mattered before Sam. Hell, before Glee club.
“I know what I’m doing.” Puck said it quietly, with intensity. It was tantamount to an admission. He definitely felt something for Sam; he’d even considered the idea of sex with the dude… Puck wasn’t sure of anything, but he knew that he wasn’t going to walk away from Sam.
Quinn, though… she was another problem entirely. Pucks confusion over Sam couldn’t hold a candle to his confusion where Quinn was concerned.
“She *wanted* to sleep with me, you know. I wasn’t even going to go into the house but she made a big deal of talking and then there wasn’t any talking...” Puck felt like a little kid, he was so confused. Santana seamlessly accepted the change in the direction of the conversation - she’d make an amazing therapist, Puck realised, if she could learn to put up with other people’s shit the way she did with his.
“She just... I thought that it could be like, a healing thing, for both of us. She made such a big deal of it, she went on the pill so I wouldn’t have to use a rubber, she was like ‘I want to feel it for real’…, but she snapped after that! I have no idea what…” Puck trailed off. He felt pathetic. Real men were supposed to be able to deal with this stuff.
Santana had tensed up while he was talking, Puck wanted to apologise for talking to her about her ‘friend’ in bed like that, he knew it was a little fucked up, but his mind was racing and he just sat there in silence.
“Puck,” Santana said, looking at him now. “Quinn isn’t on the pill.”