This Reluctant Love: Puck/Rachel, R
Title: This Reluctant Love
Author: marliskelsey
Pairing,Character(s): Puck/Rachel
Rating: R, for swearing
Word Count: 1,845
Spoilers: Through 1x13, Sectionals
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. I can only dream.
Summary: So, Puck's whipped. And like, not in the good way.
A/N: Apparently, I ship Puck with everybody! This is AU as of 1x14, Hell-o. Enjoy!
So, Puck’s whipped. And like, not in the good way.
As much as this little nugget of truth disturbs the crap out of him, nearly everybody else seems to find it adorable, including Rachel who just sits there on his arm and fucking beams with pride.
Oh, you cared for her when she was sick? How sweet!
You took her to see West Side Story? Aw, you guys are so cute!
And Puck desperately tries to diffuse these rumors, and he’ll fucking cut the next person who calls him sweet or cute or adorable or . . . nice because Noah Puckerman is not nice. He’s one badass Jew. Have you seen his guns?
* * *
She waves at him in the hallways. Just once, like it’s nothing.
Puck just stares at her, which would be creepy in any other situation except for the one he’s in, where Rachel Berry just waved at him across the hallway like he hasn’t been a complete recluse for the past month or so.
Besides, it’s Rachel Berry. Isn’t she supposed to be number one cheerleader for Team Finn-is-a-saint-and-Puck’s-an-asshole?
He blinks a few times to make sure it’s not some heat-induced hallucination, and Rachel’s still standing there with this little half-grin on her face, and Puck’s not really sure what to do so he just walks away, spinning on his heel and walking the complete opposite direction of his next class.
When he gets to Glee rehearsal after school, she’s still smiling at him. He chooses a seat as far away from her as possible and stares pointedly at Quinn.
* * *
A few weeks later, it’s become a thing. Rachel now has graduated from just waving to loudly greeting him in the middle of the hallway.
“Good morning, Noah!” She smiles, and pats his arm. He grunts, and walks away, every time.
She’s never angry, and it’s not helping his image very much to have the glee freak smiling at him like he’s her fricking boyfriend or some shit.
* * *
He knows he’s screwed the day he actually starts talking back. She’s smiling practically ear-to-ear and her eyes are all wide and she’s wearing one of her skirts. He thinks it’s clouding his judgment.
“Hello, Noah!”
He looks at her like she has a second head. A really hot second head. Fuck, he’s forgotten about the hotness factor of Rachel Berry.
“’Sup?” There, that was good. Very non-committal. Because Noah Puckerman doesn’t care. So there.
Unfortunately, truth be told, Puck kind of likes talking to someone. He hasn’t exactly had many people to talk to since the truth about babygate dropped, but shit, it had to be Rachel, didn’t it. Like this was some cosmic comeuppance for knocking up his best friend’s virginal, Jesus-loving girlfriend.
* * *
So, Rachel’s taken to sitting with him at lunch in the cafeteria, and Puck just sort-of sits there dumbfounded, because it’s a public place where people can see and that doesn’t seem to matter to her. Jeez, he’s slushied her everyday since the beginning of her freshman year. Does this not mean something anymore?
He waits for one of her long, drawn-out speeches about how karma’s a bitch. But nothing comes, and Rachel just seems to content to eat her lunch and grin at him like they’re best buddies.
He notices Finn glaring at their table, and he wonders if that’s why there’s a little less razzle-dazzle in Rachel’s smile today.
* * *
The first time they kiss, it’s because Quinn has the baby.
And Puck’s like, pissed, because he’s a total stud, and it took him nearly five months to even kiss Rachel, let alone round the bases. And what with Finn shooting them death glares whenever they’re within five feet of each other, she’s probably really desperate.
But mostly he’s pissed because he barely even got to look at her. The baby, his daughter.
Sure, he was there. He sort of stood in a corner and looked at the wall, because giving birth is fucking gross. And Quinn was screaming, and it was just not cool.
But then his daughter was out, and Quinn was crying, and the doctors whisked the baby out of the room so fast that all Puck saw was the patch of dark hair on her little head.
So when he shows up at Rachel’s house the next morning to pick her up, he’s a little moodier than usual. Of course, Rachel figures this out immediately, especially when Quinn isn’t at school that day. She sticks around when Glee’s done, quiet for once in their non-friendship. Puck knows that she wants to talk. And he’s really not in the mood.
Her mouth opens to speak, and Puck panics. So he lurches forward, and smashes his mouth against hers.
When she starts to kiss back, a hand resting lightly on his shoulder and the other in his mohawk, and Puck wonders why it took him this long, because he hasn’t forgotten their little parties on her bed. And his bed. And the truck.
When the fuck did Rachel get so good at kissing? The question makes his chest twist, but it’s not jealousy. Jealousy is for pansies, and Puck’s not a pansy.
* * *
She comes up to him one day after third period, and for once she’s not smiling.
It’s been two weeks since they kissed, not that Puck’s been counting, and Puck knows he’s been avoiding her. And he knew that Rachel knew, because Rachel was like one-fifth psychic or maybe just freakily perceptive. Either way, Puck was still done for.
“Why are you avoiding me Noah?”
“Am not.” He juts out his jaw, looks at the wall, slouches but Rachel’s not buying it. She never does.
“Yes, you are and I would like to know why! Is it - is it because we kissed?” She leans in like its some big secret. Puck rolls his eyes. He’s gonna play this off like the jerk he is, because Rachel’s not going to squeeze the truth out of him. “Please, Berry, you kissed me.” He smirks. Rachel huffs and jabs a finger into his chest. “Ow!” For a small chick, she had the strength of fucking Hulk.
“I did not, Noah, and you and I both know that. Clearly, you were upset by Quinn giving birth to your baby, but that does not change the fact that you obviously have some sort of feelings for me.”
“Yeah, nausea. Go away, Berry.”
He smirks and walks out of the choir room, leaving her behind. When he’s sure she can’t see him, Puck glances back and feels a strange mix of guilt and amusement because Rachel’s standing stick straight and her face is red and he’s sure that if this were some cartoon, there would be steam pouring out of her ears.
* * *
Rachel doesn’t talk to him for a month.
And despite himself, he almost misses the chick. He had gotten kind of used to her crazy in his daily routine, and hell, kissing her wasn’t so bad either.
If this were a movie, he’s stand outside her window with a boom box, playing Peter Gabriel but Puck’s not into that sappy stuff and he sure as hell won’t admit that he may have seen Say Anything and may have liked it. So instead, he opts to do things the Puck way. Show up unannounced and profess his (unwillingly) growing like for Rachel.
He’d bring alcohol, but he doubts that Rachel would like that very much.
* * *
He’s nervous. Why is he nervous? Only pussies get nervous to talk to a girl.
Rachel answers the door after the first knock, but when she sees that it’s him, she tries to slam it in his face. Puck manages to get his foot in before she can. He swears under his breath because it hurts like a bitch.
Seeing that she is clearly no match for the sheer skills of Puckerone, Rachel crosses her arms and sticks out her hip and gets this constipated, old-lady, what-is-it-now-young-man look on her face.
“Yes, Puck? How can I help you?”
“Are you going to let me in first?” He smiles as nicely as possible, and Rachel wavers for a second before stepping aside stiffly and allowing him entry.
When they’ve sat down, and Rachel has offered him a beverage, he takes a deep breath and starts.
“Look, Rach, you and I - we are - I think you are - fuck!” She flinches notably at his colorful language, but remains seated, and Puck takes it as a good sign that she hasn’t thrown him out of her house already. He’s wondered if maybe Rachel’s secretly a ninja, because she’s freaking stealth when she wants to be, and he just knows that she would have gold, sparkly ninja stars that he should be majorly afraid of.
“I like . . . kissing you, I guess. And hanging out.”
Rachel snorts, which is completely out-of-character and kind of turns Puck on, in a weird way. “Please, Noah. I haven’t seen you at my door with an apology in this past month. How am I to know that this isn’t some little game that you and your Neanderthal friends haven’t schemed up to humiliate me. Again.”
Crap. She thinks he’s joking.
“But I . . . like you. And I really am, like, sorry.” Man, that word leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Puck is a no-apologies sort of guy normally, but he figures that nothing about his thing with Rachel is normal and there’s really no point in acting like it is.
Rachel’s mouth is still set in a straight line and she’s still, like, three cushions away from him but Puck can see her resolve breaking. “I don’t believe you.” She whispers.
So he leans over, mentally kicking himself for acting like such a girl, and kisses her.
And damn, Rachel Berry can kiss. He almost rounded second base that night. And it was glorious.
* * *
Rachel parades him around school like he’s her show dog, and truthfully, he doesn’t mind all that much. Besides, he totally gets to see what’s under those ridiculously short skirts and every guy in school knows that this makes him a badass.
Apparently what’s under Rachel’s skirts is like, sacred ground to the male population of McKinley. Who knew?
And if it means singing to her when she’s sick or taking her to see boring musicals, then he’ll do it.
But Puck is not cute. Cute was cut from his dictionary a long time ago, along with nice and adorable and sweet. He’s not any of those things. He’s McKinley’s resident stud. It’s just the world order. And it’s about fucking time that everyone remember it.
And if anyone says that he’s in love, which he’s not obviously, he’ll end them.