Glee - Lauren/Puck - R - Not Titled
“Ugck! Damn it, Puckerman. Why do you have to be so stupid?”
She was yelling. Shit. That meant she was mad.
“What do you want me to do? I’m not a mind-reader, okay?”
He couldn’t even remember what the fight was about, really. He’d screwed something up; he always did. Then she started yelling.
“It shouldn’t have been so hard to figure out!”
He groaned, wishing she would just get it over with already. The waiting was always the worst part. Once the first strike fell, the rest was a cakewalk.
“Well I guess I am just too stupid to get it, huh?”
Agreeing, that usually helped, right? Well, not with Mom, because she was really mad at Dad, who wasn’t there. And she was so drunk at those times that she could be convinced he was him, but if she calmed down she’d want… He might have slept with women his mom’s age, but he was not going to cross that line.
“What is your problem? I mean, do you have some sort of brain damage?”
Why was she still yelling? Santana and the other girls their age would be slapping him silly by now. Small, powerful fists emphasizing their complaints and threats against his chest.
“I don’t know! If I do I’d be too damaged to tell anyway, right?”
Why wouldn’t she just hit him already! The MILFs and cougars would just smack him the second he pissed them off somehow. Generally by not doing the job he was actually paid for well enough or for being too loud or… God, he didn’t know anymore. Why wasn’t she hitting him yet?
“Puckerman! You are so dense, sometimes I wonder why I put up with you!”
What? She’s thinking about dumping him already? This was only their first fight! Break-ups didn’t happen until at least the third! And she hadn’t even hit him yet!
“Maybe it’s because I’m such a hot stud you know you’d be giving up something amazing.”
His ego really was out of control sometimes. He hadn’t even meant to say that. He just didn’t want her to leave so soon. He really dug her and wanted to get to second base, but they hadn’t even really reached first yet.
“Yeah, right.”
She was rolling her eyes and looking at him funny. She stepped closer, eyes narrowing. He tensed up. Finally. This was it. She was going to hit him. She was stronger than the other girls their age. It would hurt more. But she didn’t have nails like the others, so there wouldn’t be any bloody gashes to clean up, just bruises to nurse.
“Are you okay?”
That wasn’t right. He realized he couldn’t see her face; couldn’t see anything. His eyes were closed.
“I’m fine.”
He looked at her, bewildered. Why wasn’t she hitting him?
“What’s with the flinching?”
She had a strange look on her face, one he didn’t really recognize. Certainly not as one usually turned his way.
“I didn’t.”
She frowned. Maybe she’d do it now?
“Don’t lie to me, Puckerman. I saw you.”
He swallowed, resisting the urge to step back. She was only a few inches away.
“So?”
She puts her hand on his shoulder. She doesn’t squeeze tightly or pinch. She doesn’t shake or shove him. Just puts her hand there.
“What, did you think I was gonna slug you or something?”
His eyes involuntarily cut to the floor, unable to make eye contact.
“You did.”
She sounded surprised. Why should she be? Everyone hit him. It was normal to expect it by this point, right?
“Noah?”
His name, so quiet, pulled his gaze back to hers. Her face was slack, her eyes wide. Her lips were pursed.
“Lauren?”
Her name slipped over his lips, and God he hoped it was appeasing. Because he really didn’t want to get hit. She was so confusing.
“Why would I hit you?”
He blinked stupidly. He knew it was stupidly, because he felt stupid. His mouth was gaping open, so he must look stupid, too. And he’d been hit for stupidity in the past. And mouthiness. And jealousy. And a lack of jealousy. And for being a dead-weight, dead-beat dad to himself and his sister.
“Why wouldn’t you?”
Her eyes actually look wet. He’s never seen her so near tears in the entire time he’s known her, which has been almost their whole lives. They went to elementary and middle school together, too. Now she looked like someone had told her that her favorite pet had been brutally murdered and left in her bed for her.
“Noah, just because you’re a dumbass sometimes doesn’t mean I should hit you for it.”
He shrugged.
“Why not? Seems a good enough excuse for everyone else.”
Her eyes narrowed again.
“‘Everyone else’ who?”
He sighed, rolling his eyes. If she wasn’t going to hit him, then what the hell was going on? He really didn’t know how to deal with this. He’d pretty much figured out the formula: he fucked up, women hit him, he groveled, they took him back. Repeat. How did he get to groveling if she never hit him?
“Noah.”
Oh right, she asked a question.
“Everyone. The MILFs and the girls and Mom.”
Seriously. At this point, he couldn’t imagine any type of relationship with a female that didn’t involve being hit and/or flung around. Even his sister would hit him when she was frustrated.
“Noah…”
Her arms were around him. It was nice, because his face was at boob level and he could enjoy that, but it was also incredibly off-putting. He couldn’t remember the last time a girl other than his sister hugged him. And she hadn’t done it since joining the world of double-digit ages. Because hugging her big brother was a babyish thing to do. It was a scary and unusual position for him.
“Lauren.”
She moved back and he saw she actually was crying now.
“Noah, you listen to me. I’m not going to hit you. Nobody should have ever hit you. You might be a dumbass and a moron at times, but that’s not an excuse. You’re just you, and you don’t deserve second-class treatment.”
He stared, bewildered. Some of what she was saying sounded like it was out of an after-school special. Making it out that he had a right to…not get hit. Well. When it was put like that…
“Sorry.”
Her hand twitched on his shoulder, and his body tensed in preparation again. But she didn’t hit him, her mouth twisting.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Come on. Let’s get some ice cream, and then I’ll let you get to first-and-a-half base.”
He blinked as she took his hand and led him away. Weird. No hitting? Huh. That would be…awesome. No more bruises to take care of, except for the one’s from Mom. No cuts from nails. Well, cool.
“You know first-and-a-half isn’t a base, right?”
She turned to look at him over her shoulder.
“Then maybe I’ll let you slide all the way to second.”
Awesome.
~!~
fandom: glee
pairing: puck/lauren
rating: r (for the eff word)
warnings: frank mention of physical abuse
summary: every one else did it, so why wasn't she?
She was yelling. Shit. That meant she was mad.
“What do you want me to do? I’m not a mind-reader, okay?”
He couldn’t even remember what the fight was about, really. He’d screwed something up; he always did. Then she started yelling.
“It shouldn’t have been so hard to figure out!”
He groaned, wishing she would just get it over with already. The waiting was always the worst part. Once the first strike fell, the rest was a cakewalk.
“Well I guess I am just too stupid to get it, huh?”
Agreeing, that usually helped, right? Well, not with Mom, because she was really mad at Dad, who wasn’t there. And she was so drunk at those times that she could be convinced he was him, but if she calmed down she’d want… He might have slept with women his mom’s age, but he was not going to cross that line.
“What is your problem? I mean, do you have some sort of brain damage?”
Why was she still yelling? Santana and the other girls their age would be slapping him silly by now. Small, powerful fists emphasizing their complaints and threats against his chest.
“I don’t know! If I do I’d be too damaged to tell anyway, right?”
Why wouldn’t she just hit him already! The MILFs and cougars would just smack him the second he pissed them off somehow. Generally by not doing the job he was actually paid for well enough or for being too loud or… God, he didn’t know anymore. Why wasn’t she hitting him yet?
“Puckerman! You are so dense, sometimes I wonder why I put up with you!”
What? She’s thinking about dumping him already? This was only their first fight! Break-ups didn’t happen until at least the third! And she hadn’t even hit him yet!
“Maybe it’s because I’m such a hot stud you know you’d be giving up something amazing.”
His ego really was out of control sometimes. He hadn’t even meant to say that. He just didn’t want her to leave so soon. He really dug her and wanted to get to second base, but they hadn’t even really reached first yet.
“Yeah, right.”
She was rolling her eyes and looking at him funny. She stepped closer, eyes narrowing. He tensed up. Finally. This was it. She was going to hit him. She was stronger than the other girls their age. It would hurt more. But she didn’t have nails like the others, so there wouldn’t be any bloody gashes to clean up, just bruises to nurse.
“Are you okay?”
That wasn’t right. He realized he couldn’t see her face; couldn’t see anything. His eyes were closed.
“I’m fine.”
He looked at her, bewildered. Why wasn’t she hitting him?
“What’s with the flinching?”
She had a strange look on her face, one he didn’t really recognize. Certainly not as one usually turned his way.
“I didn’t.”
She frowned. Maybe she’d do it now?
“Don’t lie to me, Puckerman. I saw you.”
He swallowed, resisting the urge to step back. She was only a few inches away.
“So?”
She puts her hand on his shoulder. She doesn’t squeeze tightly or pinch. She doesn’t shake or shove him. Just puts her hand there.
“What, did you think I was gonna slug you or something?”
His eyes involuntarily cut to the floor, unable to make eye contact.
“You did.”
She sounded surprised. Why should she be? Everyone hit him. It was normal to expect it by this point, right?
“Noah?”
His name, so quiet, pulled his gaze back to hers. Her face was slack, her eyes wide. Her lips were pursed.
“Lauren?”
Her name slipped over his lips, and God he hoped it was appeasing. Because he really didn’t want to get hit. She was so confusing.
“Why would I hit you?”
He blinked stupidly. He knew it was stupidly, because he felt stupid. His mouth was gaping open, so he must look stupid, too. And he’d been hit for stupidity in the past. And mouthiness. And jealousy. And a lack of jealousy. And for being a dead-weight, dead-beat dad to himself and his sister.
“Why wouldn’t you?”
Her eyes actually look wet. He’s never seen her so near tears in the entire time he’s known her, which has been almost their whole lives. They went to elementary and middle school together, too. Now she looked like someone had told her that her favorite pet had been brutally murdered and left in her bed for her.
“Noah, just because you’re a dumbass sometimes doesn’t mean I should hit you for it.”
He shrugged.
“Why not? Seems a good enough excuse for everyone else.”
Her eyes narrowed again.
“‘Everyone else’ who?”
He sighed, rolling his eyes. If she wasn’t going to hit him, then what the hell was going on? He really didn’t know how to deal with this. He’d pretty much figured out the formula: he fucked up, women hit him, he groveled, they took him back. Repeat. How did he get to groveling if she never hit him?
“Noah.”
Oh right, she asked a question.
“Everyone. The MILFs and the girls and Mom.”
Seriously. At this point, he couldn’t imagine any type of relationship with a female that didn’t involve being hit and/or flung around. Even his sister would hit him when she was frustrated.
“Noah…”
Her arms were around him. It was nice, because his face was at boob level and he could enjoy that, but it was also incredibly off-putting. He couldn’t remember the last time a girl other than his sister hugged him. And she hadn’t done it since joining the world of double-digit ages. Because hugging her big brother was a babyish thing to do. It was a scary and unusual position for him.
“Lauren.”
She moved back and he saw she actually was crying now.
“Noah, you listen to me. I’m not going to hit you. Nobody should have ever hit you. You might be a dumbass and a moron at times, but that’s not an excuse. You’re just you, and you don’t deserve second-class treatment.”
He stared, bewildered. Some of what she was saying sounded like it was out of an after-school special. Making it out that he had a right to…not get hit. Well. When it was put like that…
“Sorry.”
Her hand twitched on his shoulder, and his body tensed in preparation again. But she didn’t hit him, her mouth twisting.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Come on. Let’s get some ice cream, and then I’ll let you get to first-and-a-half base.”
He blinked as she took his hand and led him away. Weird. No hitting? Huh. That would be…awesome. No more bruises to take care of, except for the one’s from Mom. No cuts from nails. Well, cool.
“You know first-and-a-half isn’t a base, right?”
She turned to look at him over her shoulder.
“Then maybe I’ll let you slide all the way to second.”
Awesome.
~!~
fandom: glee
pairing: puck/lauren
rating: r (for the eff word)
warnings: frank mention of physical abuse
summary: every one else did it, so why wasn't she?