Those Other Boys
Title: Those Other Boys
Fandom: Glee
Characters/Pairing: Puckleberry
Type: One-Shot
Rating: T+
Challenge: PuckRachel Drabble Meme
Yeah, Puck wasn’t paying any attention to anything Mr. S was saying. It wouldn’t matter if he tried anyways because Rach would just tell him all of it again on the ride home. So instead of listening to Mr. Shue talk endlessly about stuff Puck could care less about, he was playing with his girl hair and nuzzling her neck from time to time. Shut up loser, it wasn’t sappy or pussy for him to do it. He had, like, logically reasons for being all up on Rachel. First, her hair was shiny as shit and he was contemplating whether or not it was because of the slushies, because if it was, then people should like worship him for starting all of it. Second, it had been his personal mission for the past two weeks to get Rachel hot enough for him to beg for sexing in school. There had been a few times where she had practically tackled him, but she’d always remember where they were and just drag him off campus. Now it would be smart just to keep her in school if he really wanted sex in school, but when your girl literally attaches herself to your face you don’t make any complaints.
So when they were (fucking) finally let out of glee, he and Rachel were almost running out of the school. After chucking their stuff into the back of the truck (no really, Rachel literally flung her bag into the bed of the truck) and climbing in, Rachel pulled Puck into the truck, straddled him, grabbed his hands and placed them on her ass.
“You have approximately five minutes to get me to your house, or I’m just going to sit here and take care of myself,” she whispers deviously into his ear all the while Puck was still massaging her ass. Really what kind of boyfriend would he be if he just left his girl hanging? A bad one, that’s what. So if he has to risk breaking some laws to give her (him) what she (he) wants, that’s okay because he’s only thinking of his girl here. Yeah, only a douche of a cop wouldn’t understand that type of logic. Puck stepped on the break, peeling out of the parking lot and was down the road in about 30 seconds. He was in serious trouble of crashing because Rachel was rubbing her hands up and down her (bare!) legs and every time she got back up near the top she pushed her skirt just a little (micro, really) bit. But it was enough for Puck to realize Rachel wasn’t kidding when she said she would take care of herself.
Suddenly, and much to Puck’s dismay, Rachel’s teasing stopped and Puck has to legit stop himself from groaning because one, he isn’t a pussy, and two the view changed from her legs to a peek of her beautiful boobs. (And yeah, he knows how pussy it is to call them beautiful, but they really are beautiful set of tits). Rachel pulled her iPhone out of her bag to check her messages and was giggling all girly like at whatever was showing on her screen. Puck, still hung up on his girlfriend’s boobs, thinks it’s safe to assume that it’s something from Brittany, who sometimes forgets what she wants to tell you and just decides to send you random pictures of wherever she is. The last text Puck got from her was of the corner of her desk that had a penis on it (and yes, Puck was the one to put it there).
He hears music though, so he knows it’s not from Brittany because she doesn’t know how to work her phone that well, but Mike does and Puck hears Mike’s voice, and what the fuck? Since when does Chang text his girl? The weirdest part is that Rachel really doesn’t seem to think this is weird at all, like she’s been expecting this, like this is normal every day shit. The worst part is that the vixen that was just all up on him is now nonstop giggling because of another boy. Seriously, is he in the Twilight Zone?
“What’s that?” Puck grunted, a little annoyed at Chang. Doesn’t he have his own girlfriend to amuse?
“Just a video of Michael; he’s been working on a hip-hop dance routine in our class and the last routine he’s sent me is particularly funny,” Rachel relies, very nonchalantly, like Mike texting her isn’t abnormal at all. Which it is, because he didn’t even know Mike knew Rachel’s phone number, let alone have his own ringtone. (Which was Kung-fu fighting, so he might have even programmed it himself.)
“Since when do you two share a class?” Puck wonders as he pulls up to a stop light.
“We didn’t originally, but then his dance partner was injured and he was enrolled in a competition and didn’t really want to drop out, so I volunteered my services…” Rachel replies. Puck zones out for a second, because he’s imagining Rachel offering him ‘her services’, but he quickly snaps back into the conversation because he hears her mention something about practices and his mind automatically takes him to her practicing those services on Mike and practicing on him.
“…to be early because he wishes to go over his last move together to see if it’s feasible, which it doesn’t seem like it will because it involves him throwing me up in the air and I’m considerably heavier that his cousin, not that I’m that heavy, but obviously I must weigh more than an eight year old-“
“I get it, he wants to practice more. Take a breath there,” Puck interrupts. “I just didn’t realize Mike ‘n you were tight.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I assume you mean our friendship so yes we do happen to be close.”
“I love you Rach, but a yes woulda been enough,” Puck smiles at Rachel, so she knows to take it as a joke. She just rolls her eyes at him and mumbles out a yes, but she’s smiling so he knows she got it. Her smile quickly turns back into her sexy little smirk and suddenly her hand is sliding dangerously close to her promise land.
“You’re running out of time Noah,” letting the threat linger in the truck for the second before he hears the snap of her underwear, and he remembers he has an appointment in between Rachel’s thighs.
When they finally get to his place, he grabs their stuff because his house keys are in her bag (because he’s forgotten his set too many times, so she just made herself a copy that she keeps with her always). But when he turned back to her, she was on her phone again smiling affectionately at it.
“Nother video from Chang?”
“No, it’s Finn requesting what our homework is in history.”
Puck gets confused for a second because he doesn’t (does) remember a lot of what Rachel says, but he does know her schedule.
“You don’t have history.”
“Exactly the reason for my amusement,” She says as she begins her (long as fuck) text. “However lucky for Finn, Tina is and she and I were discussing her assignment because she knows I happen to know quite about it about world war two. So I do happen to know what he is required to do.”
Puck isn’t surprised his girl knows about world war two. Practically all Jews know the important shit. What he is surprised about is that she had talked to Tina. Not because they don’t get along, it just that he had taken up every second of her free time today (remember his sex in school mission), and he doesn’t remember her talking to Tina.
“When’d you talk to Tina?” He asks as they walk inside and Rachel is putting her phone in his pocket (her skirts are too tiny to have pockets).
“In between third and fourth, when you were giving me a hickey in front of your locker. Most glee members are used to our obvious sexual tension so Tina didn’t feel too uncomfortable to ask for my help while you attached yourself to my collarbone.” Rachel explains as she’s tugging her skirt off. Fuck ya, they’ve got sexual tension. They’ve got it by the buckets full.
“So you get texts from Finn too?” He asks as he nips are her collarbone right by the hickey, and yeah its way more epic that he remembers. Then again all their sexing time sorta blends together because they’re almost always at it. Not that he’s complaining or anything. It’s just nice to have a girlfriend for once (okay so she’s like his third girlfriend) who appreciates a little foreplay. (Quinn didn’t like any play and Santana is more a get it in and get out sorta lay).
“Can you please stop talking and get back to sucking on my collarbone?” Rachel whines.
“Knew you loved my hickeys babe,” as he complies with her every wish.
~*~
Later, as Puck and Rachel are sprawled out on the couch, blissed out Puck hears the creepiest song. But it’s familiar, like he’s heard it before. Actually it’s like he’s heard it a lot before, and it’s coming from his scrunched up jeans in the corner of the room. It’s probably Rachel’s phone so he’ll just tell the douche that dares interrupt their sexy time to go away. Lifting Rachel off of his chest where’s she was sprawled out, completely out of it, so he could grab the phone.
“Where are you going? I’m not done with you yet,” Rachel whined, upset that her heat source left her. This is how Puck knows he did a good job of sexing his girl. Whenever she was blissed out she didn’t care about anything else but the two of them, and that as long as Puck was around she was content. When she was like this, it just reassured Puck how much Rachel loved him (and his dick).
“Just gimme a sec babe, I just need to tell the fucker that’s interrupting our sexy time to go away,” Puck replies taking the phone out of his jeans.
But before he’s even able to get a single word out, his ears nearly burst when a loud screech comes out of the other side, yelling out, “OLIVIA WILDE LEFT THE SHOW!” and seriously what the fuck? He does use his ear drums sometimes and he likes it when they work. But the scream seems to have awakened Rachel, because the moment she hears it she pops up from the couch and grabs the phone out of his hand. This isn’t going to work for Puck, because he may not know who it is calling his girl, but he knows it’s a guy (a pussy guy who screams like a fan girl). He doesn’t like the fact that his girlfriend is talking to some douche completely naked, even if the douche doesn’t know she naked.
But Rachel doesn’t seem to mind chatting with whoever it is naked because she just plops back down on the couch.
“What do you mean she left? She can’t leave! Who will love Foreman? And what have I told you about watching without me?” Rachel replies angrily like talking on the phone naked isn’t a big deal. Puck slips on his jeans and heads into the kitchen sensing this conversation is going to take a while, but not before hearing Rachel rip whoever it is a new one.
“Matthew Jonathon Rutherford, did I not tell you that you had to wait to watch the season premiere with me? I waited until you had your cable hooked up, and for you to just watch it without me is unacceptable! And since you’ve now ruined the episode for me, I must demand that you summarize the episode in perfect detail,” Rachel pouts and crosses her arms (making her boobs look incredible), even though Rutherford can see her. And what the hell is up with Rutherford calling up his girl? And to gossip about some random show too? It’s totally cutting into their sexing time, which is really limited as it is. Today is a perfect day because his mom is working double shifts today and his little sister is sleeping over at her friend’s house after their soccer game, so the house is theirs. He doesn’t appreciate Matt cockblocking him all the way from Texas, or wherever the hell he’s moved to. But he quietly makes himself a sandwich and waits for Rachel to be done, like the good, unappreciated boyfriend he is.
Forty-five minutes later Rachel finally joins him in the kitchen wearing his plaid button up shirt. And he’s not pissed at Rachel, seriously he’s not. But what type of guy talks to another dude’s girl for forty-five minutes? It’s unnatural. (He doesn’t bother to remember that he calls up Santana to bitch about Supernatural from time to time despite the fact that she’s with Finn now.) Rachel’s arms encircle his waist as he stirs dinner. He really likes making food for his girl (mostly because he’s convinced she doesn’t eat enough). It’s like he’s showing her that he can take care of her, give her whatever she needs. It’s nice to be needed sometimes, because Rachel’s seriously a low maintenance girlfriend. Sure she talks a lot, but it’s not that difficult to just sit there and be talked to. And her plans for them don’t always suck. Beyond some low level PDA, Rachel doesn’t really need much from him.
“You have a good gossip session with Rutherford?” Puck asks, not bothering to turn around.
“Yes, it was a pleasant conversation. I think something is wrong though. He’s usually not that quiet,” she replied getting some plates out of the cupboard (and yeah she’s over enough to know where they are and to be okay with getting them herself without asking).
“That’s quiet? You guys talked for-fucking-ever.”
“Yes, well he’s normally quiet talkative with me. I usually am the one who listens during our conversations. It’s nice to not have to be the one to fill the silence,” she replies lightly, but Puck can’t help but feel like that’s a jab at their relationship.
“I talk to you,” he snaps. He feels guilty, though when Rachel looks at him funny.
“Of course you do Noah, we have wonderful conversations. It’s just that Matthew is a much bigger House fan than I am, so he simply has more to say,” she replies simply. “It’s the few times in my life I wonder how you possibly deal with my own problem with over sharing. Matthew has a problem with over analyzing everything in the show. Because I honestly don’t think House and Cuddy will work out at all in the long run because House is horrible with children and Cuddy adores her daughter.”
“I didn’t know you liked House.”
“Yes, well with all of the drama ensued last year involving Beth and such, Matt and I would frequently be paired up as dance partners. Of course, I would never settle less than perfection,” Rachel said as she smirked at Puck, because yeah he basically is the model of male perfection. “So he and I would practice the dance routine. One day we had to practice at his residence because his little brother was home sick, and he insisted we take a break to watch his favourite show. After that we would watch the show together often. When his family moved, I told him we had to continue watching the episodes together. He didn’t seem adverse to my suggestion so it was decided that we would call one another and watch the episode simultaneously.”
“So basically you guys watch the show together, but Matt was a douche and started without you?” Puck asked as he had trouble keeping up with Rachel’s verbal speed sometimes.
“In summary, yes.”
Puck doesn’t know what to do with all of this information. He can understand Mike and Finn because she’s around them. But he can honestly say he’s never seen Matt and Rachel ever hold a conversation that lasted more than ‘Hi’. It makes him wonder, who else does Rachel talk to?
“Hey babe can you watch the sauce? I just need to grab something in the living room,” Puck asks, as Rachel flips through a magazine his mom left on the counter this morning. She nods and brings the magazine with her to read as she stirs.
The moment Puck gets out of the kitchen, he searches for her phone. He has a little bit of time because the sauce isn’t near done and Rachel is really into the article she’s reading. Spotting the iPhone on the coffee table, Puck scoops it up and brings it with him to the washroom just in case Rachel decides to check up on him. Once the door is firmly locked behind him, he turns the phone on and is amazed at what he sees. Amongst the tons of sexts he’s sent her, is text after text from all the guys in glee. She even has full on arguments with Artie about bands (and fuck yes Jimi Hendrix is awesome, he doesn’t know why they even bothered to debate the man’s badassness.) Even Sam texts her regularly, mostly about glee practices, but sometimes he sends her jokes. The fucking weird part? Rachel’s got about a dozen texts from the girls combined (and yeah he’s including Kurt). Isn’t she like tight with Tina or someone?
Puck decides this doesn’t matter, because now his brain is working on over drive. Who else does Rachel talk to? He drops her phone back where he found and yells that the thing he needs might be in his room. He knows she doesn’t suspect a thing by the way she absently minded replies with a mumble “Okay.”
Once upstairs Puck logged on to her MySpace account. A few months back she gave him a lecture about trust issues and how they should never doubt one another so she was giving him all of the passwords to her accounts just so he knew everything in her life. He had never used it before because he thought she just wanted an excuse to check up on his shit, which she figured out early on he didn’t really use. Opening up her MySpace he looked to her videos and saw the usual degrading comments about her. Granted it wasn’t as much as before (dating him really boosted her popularity, but he couldn’t exactly save her from herself). The weird thing though was that there were a lot of positive comments. She had told him before about them, but he had just assumed that she was exaggerating. But there really were tons, and most of them were from guys. Guys he’s never heard about before.
Reading through the comments, a lot of the comments were innocent enough, though there was quite a few that made his blood boil. Who the fuck did these guys think they were? Rachel was in a fucking committed relationship, and no one was ever going to come between him and his girl. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. This was just a little too much to taken in at once. Looking back to the computer he saw a link to her Facebook account. He was a little nervous to look at it. How many more ‘friends’ did Rachel have? It was one thing for all the girls (and women) in Lima to be drooling all over him. It’s another for guys all over the country jacking off to his girl.
Taking a deep breath, he clicked the link and he was immediately brought to her profile page. He had never bothered to look at it before, even when she asked if they could go ‘Facebook Official’ (he hadn’t bothered to put himself ‘in a relationship’, but he we beginning to regret it now). Her wall was plastered by conversations with dudes. Most of them were with glee guys, but there were a lot with other friends. There were a few girls she talked to regularly, but compared the number of guys it might as well have been none. Her profile picture was of her looking gorgeous in a slinky little number that he’d seen at the back of her closet. It was obviously of her at a dance competition, but he didn’t like how it was just up there for all to see. Didn’t she know that some perves jacked off to Facebook photos? (He didn’t because he had a girl for those sorts of problems).
But the last straw was the videos of her dance competitions. It was her and her partner (who he had meet all of one time) dancing the tango, which was basically sex on hardwood. When he had meet Henry (douche name) Puck had been sure that he was gay, but looking at those videos now he wasn’t so sure. No gay guy looked at women that way, just like no guy should ever look at his woman that way. Not that it wasn’t Rachel’s fault either, looking all fuckable in that skin tight dress that stopped just below her ass. How had he not known about all of this?
Feeling his anger rising, he ripped the laptop from its cord and stomped downstairs. There was going to be an explanation for all of this bullshit.
Reaching the kitchen, he slammed the laptop down, causing Rachel to jump.
“Noah, where have you been? The sauce is done and I’ve started the noodles…” Rachel trailed off observing her boyfriend’s angry demeanour. “Are you alright Noah?”
“What the fuck is this shit?” He asked pointing to her dancing with Henry (still a douche name).
“Oh that’s last year’s ballroom dance competition in Oregon. Henry and I placed first, it was a wonderful night. Hadn’t I showed you this before?” Rachel replied forwarding the video to her favourite part; the applause.
“No, I woulda remember you showing me a video of soft porn.”
“Soft porn? Really Noah, don’t you think you’re being a tad bit dramatic. It’s only the tango. You’ve seen me ballroom dance before,” Rachel said, amused by Puck’s anger instead of embarrassed like he thought she’d be.
“I’ve never seen you dance like you’re having vertical sex!”
The vein in his forehead? Is going to fucking pop as she bursts out laughing. She wouldn’t be laughing if it was him on the video, dancing with some random chick like that.
“Noah, you’re well aware that Henry is gay,” Rachel said, bringing her arms around his waist. “And even if he wasn’t I’m not at all interested in him. It’s the tango Noah, it needs to be sexually charged or it looks too choreographed. Would it help if I told you that to prepare for my tango dances I think of you?”
And, yeah it kinda does. But he can’t go soft on her because it’s a serious fucking problem (for him) that she’s got more guy friends than he knows people.
“But since when do you have so many friends?” He asks, and fuck you he’s not pouting.
“Are you insinuating that I can’t make friends?” She asks testily and he’s gotta tred lightly here, because his next answer could mean the difference between 20 minutes before their next sex session and 20 hours (like she’d last more than a day without some Puck loving).
“No babe, I just don’t remember you having so many of them,” he says all soft like, which never fails to get her to forgive him.
“I travel a lot for competitions. I meet many people all over the country and sometimes worldwide. While most people here find me intolerable - present company excluded - there are many people out in the world who simply see me as a driven young woman,” she replies softly. “Is it a problem that I have so many friends Noah?”
“Fuck no baby it’s just…”he trailed off, not wanting to admit his insecurity.
“It’s just…” Rachel prodded.
“It’s just, all your friends are guys.” He finishes. Rachel quirks an eyebrow at him, confused.
“Well, girls don’t like me very much,” she responded.
“Yeah…but…it’s just…that…” Puck mumbled, still a little uncomfortable to admit this. “All those guys like you too much.”
“Noah, are you seriously upset that my friends happen to like me?” Rachel asked, her little smirk telling him that she knew exactly why type of like he was talking about.
“Don’t play coy,” Puck warned. (Yeah, ‘coy’ suck it losers, he could speak good English.) “You know what I’m talking about.”
“How is it a problem? So what if I dance like that with a boy who has no interest in me, when you and I both know I do the real dance with you? So what if guys, who live hundreds of miles away, have minor crushes on me? Guys who I never think twice about because I’m too busy living my life here?” Rachel said tightening her hold around his waist. “I’m too busy with school, having sex, glee, having sex, dance practices, having sex, vocal lessons, being your girlfriend and having all the sex involved with that very tiring job.”
Puck felt like an idiot. She was right. Who cared if those douches had hard-ons for his girl? She was his, and that’s how it’d stay for the foreseeable future. And this just proved how hot his girlfriend really was, to have dudes all over the world drooling over her hot bod.
“You’re right babe,” he murmured against her skin (right by her awesome hickey).
“What? I’m sorry Noah, I didn’t quite catch that,” she teased, smirking into his neck.
“What? You want to record me saying it?” He said lifting his head up to raise an eyebrow at her.
“Yes! That’d be lovely, let me just get my tape recorder,” she said, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. Laughing he just held on tighter.
“You’re going nowhere,” Puck replied as Rachel playfully pouted.
“But how will I be able to replay this moment forever? It’s so rare that you openly admit that you’re jealous my popularity.”
“That’s ‘cause you aren’t really popular around school,” Puck said. “But would you settle for a few orgasms?”
Pretending to deliberate the options, Rachel tapped her chin.
“I suppose that’s a suitable exchange, but they’d have to be really incredible orgasms to make up for the fact I won’t be able to hold this over your head for eternity,” she finally responded.
“Shut up babe, my O’s are always fucking incredible,” he growled.
“I don’t know Noah, this afternoon wasn’t exactly, ‘fucking incredible’,” Rachel teased, knowing full well what her swearing did to Puck.
“Fuck baby, don’t do that,” Puck groaned, leaning his forehead against hers. Composing himself he smacked her ass and growled out, “Better prepare yourself Berry, I’m about to fuck the crazy outta you.”
“Is that so?” she replied coyly before running out of the kitchen.
Later they’d be running back into it when the fire alarm goes off because of the forgotten pasta and sauce.
Fandom: Glee
Characters/Pairing: Puckleberry
Type: One-Shot
Rating: T+
Challenge: PuckRachel Drabble Meme
Yeah, Puck wasn’t paying any attention to anything Mr. S was saying. It wouldn’t matter if he tried anyways because Rach would just tell him all of it again on the ride home. So instead of listening to Mr. Shue talk endlessly about stuff Puck could care less about, he was playing with his girl hair and nuzzling her neck from time to time. Shut up loser, it wasn’t sappy or pussy for him to do it. He had, like, logically reasons for being all up on Rachel. First, her hair was shiny as shit and he was contemplating whether or not it was because of the slushies, because if it was, then people should like worship him for starting all of it. Second, it had been his personal mission for the past two weeks to get Rachel hot enough for him to beg for sexing in school. There had been a few times where she had practically tackled him, but she’d always remember where they were and just drag him off campus. Now it would be smart just to keep her in school if he really wanted sex in school, but when your girl literally attaches herself to your face you don’t make any complaints.
So when they were (fucking) finally let out of glee, he and Rachel were almost running out of the school. After chucking their stuff into the back of the truck (no really, Rachel literally flung her bag into the bed of the truck) and climbing in, Rachel pulled Puck into the truck, straddled him, grabbed his hands and placed them on her ass.
“You have approximately five minutes to get me to your house, or I’m just going to sit here and take care of myself,” she whispers deviously into his ear all the while Puck was still massaging her ass. Really what kind of boyfriend would he be if he just left his girl hanging? A bad one, that’s what. So if he has to risk breaking some laws to give her (him) what she (he) wants, that’s okay because he’s only thinking of his girl here. Yeah, only a douche of a cop wouldn’t understand that type of logic. Puck stepped on the break, peeling out of the parking lot and was down the road in about 30 seconds. He was in serious trouble of crashing because Rachel was rubbing her hands up and down her (bare!) legs and every time she got back up near the top she pushed her skirt just a little (micro, really) bit. But it was enough for Puck to realize Rachel wasn’t kidding when she said she would take care of herself.
Suddenly, and much to Puck’s dismay, Rachel’s teasing stopped and Puck has to legit stop himself from groaning because one, he isn’t a pussy, and two the view changed from her legs to a peek of her beautiful boobs. (And yeah, he knows how pussy it is to call them beautiful, but they really are beautiful set of tits). Rachel pulled her iPhone out of her bag to check her messages and was giggling all girly like at whatever was showing on her screen. Puck, still hung up on his girlfriend’s boobs, thinks it’s safe to assume that it’s something from Brittany, who sometimes forgets what she wants to tell you and just decides to send you random pictures of wherever she is. The last text Puck got from her was of the corner of her desk that had a penis on it (and yes, Puck was the one to put it there).
He hears music though, so he knows it’s not from Brittany because she doesn’t know how to work her phone that well, but Mike does and Puck hears Mike’s voice, and what the fuck? Since when does Chang text his girl? The weirdest part is that Rachel really doesn’t seem to think this is weird at all, like she’s been expecting this, like this is normal every day shit. The worst part is that the vixen that was just all up on him is now nonstop giggling because of another boy. Seriously, is he in the Twilight Zone?
“What’s that?” Puck grunted, a little annoyed at Chang. Doesn’t he have his own girlfriend to amuse?
“Just a video of Michael; he’s been working on a hip-hop dance routine in our class and the last routine he’s sent me is particularly funny,” Rachel relies, very nonchalantly, like Mike texting her isn’t abnormal at all. Which it is, because he didn’t even know Mike knew Rachel’s phone number, let alone have his own ringtone. (Which was Kung-fu fighting, so he might have even programmed it himself.)
“Since when do you two share a class?” Puck wonders as he pulls up to a stop light.
“We didn’t originally, but then his dance partner was injured and he was enrolled in a competition and didn’t really want to drop out, so I volunteered my services…” Rachel replies. Puck zones out for a second, because he’s imagining Rachel offering him ‘her services’, but he quickly snaps back into the conversation because he hears her mention something about practices and his mind automatically takes him to her practicing those services on Mike and practicing on him.
“…to be early because he wishes to go over his last move together to see if it’s feasible, which it doesn’t seem like it will because it involves him throwing me up in the air and I’m considerably heavier that his cousin, not that I’m that heavy, but obviously I must weigh more than an eight year old-“
“I get it, he wants to practice more. Take a breath there,” Puck interrupts. “I just didn’t realize Mike ‘n you were tight.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I assume you mean our friendship so yes we do happen to be close.”
“I love you Rach, but a yes woulda been enough,” Puck smiles at Rachel, so she knows to take it as a joke. She just rolls her eyes at him and mumbles out a yes, but she’s smiling so he knows she got it. Her smile quickly turns back into her sexy little smirk and suddenly her hand is sliding dangerously close to her promise land.
“You’re running out of time Noah,” letting the threat linger in the truck for the second before he hears the snap of her underwear, and he remembers he has an appointment in between Rachel’s thighs.
When they finally get to his place, he grabs their stuff because his house keys are in her bag (because he’s forgotten his set too many times, so she just made herself a copy that she keeps with her always). But when he turned back to her, she was on her phone again smiling affectionately at it.
“Nother video from Chang?”
“No, it’s Finn requesting what our homework is in history.”
Puck gets confused for a second because he doesn’t (does) remember a lot of what Rachel says, but he does know her schedule.
“You don’t have history.”
“Exactly the reason for my amusement,” She says as she begins her (long as fuck) text. “However lucky for Finn, Tina is and she and I were discussing her assignment because she knows I happen to know quite about it about world war two. So I do happen to know what he is required to do.”
Puck isn’t surprised his girl knows about world war two. Practically all Jews know the important shit. What he is surprised about is that she had talked to Tina. Not because they don’t get along, it just that he had taken up every second of her free time today (remember his sex in school mission), and he doesn’t remember her talking to Tina.
“When’d you talk to Tina?” He asks as they walk inside and Rachel is putting her phone in his pocket (her skirts are too tiny to have pockets).
“In between third and fourth, when you were giving me a hickey in front of your locker. Most glee members are used to our obvious sexual tension so Tina didn’t feel too uncomfortable to ask for my help while you attached yourself to my collarbone.” Rachel explains as she’s tugging her skirt off. Fuck ya, they’ve got sexual tension. They’ve got it by the buckets full.
“So you get texts from Finn too?” He asks as he nips are her collarbone right by the hickey, and yeah its way more epic that he remembers. Then again all their sexing time sorta blends together because they’re almost always at it. Not that he’s complaining or anything. It’s just nice to have a girlfriend for once (okay so she’s like his third girlfriend) who appreciates a little foreplay. (Quinn didn’t like any play and Santana is more a get it in and get out sorta lay).
“Can you please stop talking and get back to sucking on my collarbone?” Rachel whines.
“Knew you loved my hickeys babe,” as he complies with her every wish.
~*~
Later, as Puck and Rachel are sprawled out on the couch, blissed out Puck hears the creepiest song. But it’s familiar, like he’s heard it before. Actually it’s like he’s heard it a lot before, and it’s coming from his scrunched up jeans in the corner of the room. It’s probably Rachel’s phone so he’ll just tell the douche that dares interrupt their sexy time to go away. Lifting Rachel off of his chest where’s she was sprawled out, completely out of it, so he could grab the phone.
“Where are you going? I’m not done with you yet,” Rachel whined, upset that her heat source left her. This is how Puck knows he did a good job of sexing his girl. Whenever she was blissed out she didn’t care about anything else but the two of them, and that as long as Puck was around she was content. When she was like this, it just reassured Puck how much Rachel loved him (and his dick).
“Just gimme a sec babe, I just need to tell the fucker that’s interrupting our sexy time to go away,” Puck replies taking the phone out of his jeans.
But before he’s even able to get a single word out, his ears nearly burst when a loud screech comes out of the other side, yelling out, “OLIVIA WILDE LEFT THE SHOW!” and seriously what the fuck? He does use his ear drums sometimes and he likes it when they work. But the scream seems to have awakened Rachel, because the moment she hears it she pops up from the couch and grabs the phone out of his hand. This isn’t going to work for Puck, because he may not know who it is calling his girl, but he knows it’s a guy (a pussy guy who screams like a fan girl). He doesn’t like the fact that his girlfriend is talking to some douche completely naked, even if the douche doesn’t know she naked.
But Rachel doesn’t seem to mind chatting with whoever it is naked because she just plops back down on the couch.
“What do you mean she left? She can’t leave! Who will love Foreman? And what have I told you about watching without me?” Rachel replies angrily like talking on the phone naked isn’t a big deal. Puck slips on his jeans and heads into the kitchen sensing this conversation is going to take a while, but not before hearing Rachel rip whoever it is a new one.
“Matthew Jonathon Rutherford, did I not tell you that you had to wait to watch the season premiere with me? I waited until you had your cable hooked up, and for you to just watch it without me is unacceptable! And since you’ve now ruined the episode for me, I must demand that you summarize the episode in perfect detail,” Rachel pouts and crosses her arms (making her boobs look incredible), even though Rutherford can see her. And what the hell is up with Rutherford calling up his girl? And to gossip about some random show too? It’s totally cutting into their sexing time, which is really limited as it is. Today is a perfect day because his mom is working double shifts today and his little sister is sleeping over at her friend’s house after their soccer game, so the house is theirs. He doesn’t appreciate Matt cockblocking him all the way from Texas, or wherever the hell he’s moved to. But he quietly makes himself a sandwich and waits for Rachel to be done, like the good, unappreciated boyfriend he is.
Forty-five minutes later Rachel finally joins him in the kitchen wearing his plaid button up shirt. And he’s not pissed at Rachel, seriously he’s not. But what type of guy talks to another dude’s girl for forty-five minutes? It’s unnatural. (He doesn’t bother to remember that he calls up Santana to bitch about Supernatural from time to time despite the fact that she’s with Finn now.) Rachel’s arms encircle his waist as he stirs dinner. He really likes making food for his girl (mostly because he’s convinced she doesn’t eat enough). It’s like he’s showing her that he can take care of her, give her whatever she needs. It’s nice to be needed sometimes, because Rachel’s seriously a low maintenance girlfriend. Sure she talks a lot, but it’s not that difficult to just sit there and be talked to. And her plans for them don’t always suck. Beyond some low level PDA, Rachel doesn’t really need much from him.
“You have a good gossip session with Rutherford?” Puck asks, not bothering to turn around.
“Yes, it was a pleasant conversation. I think something is wrong though. He’s usually not that quiet,” she replied getting some plates out of the cupboard (and yeah she’s over enough to know where they are and to be okay with getting them herself without asking).
“That’s quiet? You guys talked for-fucking-ever.”
“Yes, well he’s normally quiet talkative with me. I usually am the one who listens during our conversations. It’s nice to not have to be the one to fill the silence,” she replies lightly, but Puck can’t help but feel like that’s a jab at their relationship.
“I talk to you,” he snaps. He feels guilty, though when Rachel looks at him funny.
“Of course you do Noah, we have wonderful conversations. It’s just that Matthew is a much bigger House fan than I am, so he simply has more to say,” she replies simply. “It’s the few times in my life I wonder how you possibly deal with my own problem with over sharing. Matthew has a problem with over analyzing everything in the show. Because I honestly don’t think House and Cuddy will work out at all in the long run because House is horrible with children and Cuddy adores her daughter.”
“I didn’t know you liked House.”
“Yes, well with all of the drama ensued last year involving Beth and such, Matt and I would frequently be paired up as dance partners. Of course, I would never settle less than perfection,” Rachel said as she smirked at Puck, because yeah he basically is the model of male perfection. “So he and I would practice the dance routine. One day we had to practice at his residence because his little brother was home sick, and he insisted we take a break to watch his favourite show. After that we would watch the show together often. When his family moved, I told him we had to continue watching the episodes together. He didn’t seem adverse to my suggestion so it was decided that we would call one another and watch the episode simultaneously.”
“So basically you guys watch the show together, but Matt was a douche and started without you?” Puck asked as he had trouble keeping up with Rachel’s verbal speed sometimes.
“In summary, yes.”
Puck doesn’t know what to do with all of this information. He can understand Mike and Finn because she’s around them. But he can honestly say he’s never seen Matt and Rachel ever hold a conversation that lasted more than ‘Hi’. It makes him wonder, who else does Rachel talk to?
“Hey babe can you watch the sauce? I just need to grab something in the living room,” Puck asks, as Rachel flips through a magazine his mom left on the counter this morning. She nods and brings the magazine with her to read as she stirs.
The moment Puck gets out of the kitchen, he searches for her phone. He has a little bit of time because the sauce isn’t near done and Rachel is really into the article she’s reading. Spotting the iPhone on the coffee table, Puck scoops it up and brings it with him to the washroom just in case Rachel decides to check up on him. Once the door is firmly locked behind him, he turns the phone on and is amazed at what he sees. Amongst the tons of sexts he’s sent her, is text after text from all the guys in glee. She even has full on arguments with Artie about bands (and fuck yes Jimi Hendrix is awesome, he doesn’t know why they even bothered to debate the man’s badassness.) Even Sam texts her regularly, mostly about glee practices, but sometimes he sends her jokes. The fucking weird part? Rachel’s got about a dozen texts from the girls combined (and yeah he’s including Kurt). Isn’t she like tight with Tina or someone?
Puck decides this doesn’t matter, because now his brain is working on over drive. Who else does Rachel talk to? He drops her phone back where he found and yells that the thing he needs might be in his room. He knows she doesn’t suspect a thing by the way she absently minded replies with a mumble “Okay.”
Once upstairs Puck logged on to her MySpace account. A few months back she gave him a lecture about trust issues and how they should never doubt one another so she was giving him all of the passwords to her accounts just so he knew everything in her life. He had never used it before because he thought she just wanted an excuse to check up on his shit, which she figured out early on he didn’t really use. Opening up her MySpace he looked to her videos and saw the usual degrading comments about her. Granted it wasn’t as much as before (dating him really boosted her popularity, but he couldn’t exactly save her from herself). The weird thing though was that there were a lot of positive comments. She had told him before about them, but he had just assumed that she was exaggerating. But there really were tons, and most of them were from guys. Guys he’s never heard about before.
Reading through the comments, a lot of the comments were innocent enough, though there was quite a few that made his blood boil. Who the fuck did these guys think they were? Rachel was in a fucking committed relationship, and no one was ever going to come between him and his girl. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. This was just a little too much to taken in at once. Looking back to the computer he saw a link to her Facebook account. He was a little nervous to look at it. How many more ‘friends’ did Rachel have? It was one thing for all the girls (and women) in Lima to be drooling all over him. It’s another for guys all over the country jacking off to his girl.
Taking a deep breath, he clicked the link and he was immediately brought to her profile page. He had never bothered to look at it before, even when she asked if they could go ‘Facebook Official’ (he hadn’t bothered to put himself ‘in a relationship’, but he we beginning to regret it now). Her wall was plastered by conversations with dudes. Most of them were with glee guys, but there were a lot with other friends. There were a few girls she talked to regularly, but compared the number of guys it might as well have been none. Her profile picture was of her looking gorgeous in a slinky little number that he’d seen at the back of her closet. It was obviously of her at a dance competition, but he didn’t like how it was just up there for all to see. Didn’t she know that some perves jacked off to Facebook photos? (He didn’t because he had a girl for those sorts of problems).
But the last straw was the videos of her dance competitions. It was her and her partner (who he had meet all of one time) dancing the tango, which was basically sex on hardwood. When he had meet Henry (douche name) Puck had been sure that he was gay, but looking at those videos now he wasn’t so sure. No gay guy looked at women that way, just like no guy should ever look at his woman that way. Not that it wasn’t Rachel’s fault either, looking all fuckable in that skin tight dress that stopped just below her ass. How had he not known about all of this?
Feeling his anger rising, he ripped the laptop from its cord and stomped downstairs. There was going to be an explanation for all of this bullshit.
Reaching the kitchen, he slammed the laptop down, causing Rachel to jump.
“Noah, where have you been? The sauce is done and I’ve started the noodles…” Rachel trailed off observing her boyfriend’s angry demeanour. “Are you alright Noah?”
“What the fuck is this shit?” He asked pointing to her dancing with Henry (still a douche name).
“Oh that’s last year’s ballroom dance competition in Oregon. Henry and I placed first, it was a wonderful night. Hadn’t I showed you this before?” Rachel replied forwarding the video to her favourite part; the applause.
“No, I woulda remember you showing me a video of soft porn.”
“Soft porn? Really Noah, don’t you think you’re being a tad bit dramatic. It’s only the tango. You’ve seen me ballroom dance before,” Rachel said, amused by Puck’s anger instead of embarrassed like he thought she’d be.
“I’ve never seen you dance like you’re having vertical sex!”
The vein in his forehead? Is going to fucking pop as she bursts out laughing. She wouldn’t be laughing if it was him on the video, dancing with some random chick like that.
“Noah, you’re well aware that Henry is gay,” Rachel said, bringing her arms around his waist. “And even if he wasn’t I’m not at all interested in him. It’s the tango Noah, it needs to be sexually charged or it looks too choreographed. Would it help if I told you that to prepare for my tango dances I think of you?”
And, yeah it kinda does. But he can’t go soft on her because it’s a serious fucking problem (for him) that she’s got more guy friends than he knows people.
“But since when do you have so many friends?” He asks, and fuck you he’s not pouting.
“Are you insinuating that I can’t make friends?” She asks testily and he’s gotta tred lightly here, because his next answer could mean the difference between 20 minutes before their next sex session and 20 hours (like she’d last more than a day without some Puck loving).
“No babe, I just don’t remember you having so many of them,” he says all soft like, which never fails to get her to forgive him.
“I travel a lot for competitions. I meet many people all over the country and sometimes worldwide. While most people here find me intolerable - present company excluded - there are many people out in the world who simply see me as a driven young woman,” she replies softly. “Is it a problem that I have so many friends Noah?”
“Fuck no baby it’s just…”he trailed off, not wanting to admit his insecurity.
“It’s just…” Rachel prodded.
“It’s just, all your friends are guys.” He finishes. Rachel quirks an eyebrow at him, confused.
“Well, girls don’t like me very much,” she responded.
“Yeah…but…it’s just…that…” Puck mumbled, still a little uncomfortable to admit this. “All those guys like you too much.”
“Noah, are you seriously upset that my friends happen to like me?” Rachel asked, her little smirk telling him that she knew exactly why type of like he was talking about.
“Don’t play coy,” Puck warned. (Yeah, ‘coy’ suck it losers, he could speak good English.) “You know what I’m talking about.”
“How is it a problem? So what if I dance like that with a boy who has no interest in me, when you and I both know I do the real dance with you? So what if guys, who live hundreds of miles away, have minor crushes on me? Guys who I never think twice about because I’m too busy living my life here?” Rachel said tightening her hold around his waist. “I’m too busy with school, having sex, glee, having sex, dance practices, having sex, vocal lessons, being your girlfriend and having all the sex involved with that very tiring job.”
Puck felt like an idiot. She was right. Who cared if those douches had hard-ons for his girl? She was his, and that’s how it’d stay for the foreseeable future. And this just proved how hot his girlfriend really was, to have dudes all over the world drooling over her hot bod.
“You’re right babe,” he murmured against her skin (right by her awesome hickey).
“What? I’m sorry Noah, I didn’t quite catch that,” she teased, smirking into his neck.
“What? You want to record me saying it?” He said lifting his head up to raise an eyebrow at her.
“Yes! That’d be lovely, let me just get my tape recorder,” she said, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. Laughing he just held on tighter.
“You’re going nowhere,” Puck replied as Rachel playfully pouted.
“But how will I be able to replay this moment forever? It’s so rare that you openly admit that you’re jealous my popularity.”
“That’s ‘cause you aren’t really popular around school,” Puck said. “But would you settle for a few orgasms?”
Pretending to deliberate the options, Rachel tapped her chin.
“I suppose that’s a suitable exchange, but they’d have to be really incredible orgasms to make up for the fact I won’t be able to hold this over your head for eternity,” she finally responded.
“Shut up babe, my O’s are always fucking incredible,” he growled.
“I don’t know Noah, this afternoon wasn’t exactly, ‘fucking incredible’,” Rachel teased, knowing full well what her swearing did to Puck.
“Fuck baby, don’t do that,” Puck groaned, leaning his forehead against hers. Composing himself he smacked her ass and growled out, “Better prepare yourself Berry, I’m about to fuck the crazy outta you.”
“Is that so?” she replied coyly before running out of the kitchen.
Later they’d be running back into it when the fire alarm goes off because of the forgotten pasta and sauce.