two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, chapter 2
Glee. 1,520 words. Multi-chapter Puck/Rachel, post-Mash Up. Thanks for all the positive responses! Really glad you guys liked the first chapter, hope you stick along for the ride.
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2. love underground
-robbers on high street
In Puck’s world, there are basically three things that he can always count on: the sun rising every morning, setting every night, and him never getting stood up. Bear in mind, he was the chick magnet of all chick magnets. A wild stallion, if you will. Girls didn’t stand him up, he stood them up. He stood girls up like LeBron played ball, like the Terminator destroyed shit. If standing girls up were an Xbox game, he’d beat it in one sitting. If he actually bothered to pay attention in Spanish class, he could go to Mexico and stand girls up. Hell, he could go to Mexico now and stand girls up, that’s how good he was.
So needless to say, when Rachel wasn’t waiting patiently by her locker at 3:15, and still not there by 3:20, he was pretty fucking pissed.
Assuming she had decided to give him a taste of his own medicine (it wouldn’t be the first time some bitch pulled a fast one on him) he channeled all his anger into tackling the shit out of everything he saw in practice. It wasn’t til after, when he finally dug the phone out of his bag, that he saw her text.
In retrospect, he probably should have known better; she wasn't the kind of person who stood people up, no matter how awful they were to her. Berry was like the fucking Energizer bunny: it didn’t matter how many times you crushed her spirit or chucked Slushees in her face, she always bounced back with that maniacal smile, always hoping for things to change. Even when she knew people were dicks, she still smiled, but with a scheming glint in her eye that said, “you’re so gonna regret that when I’m saving orphans with Brad and Angie and breaking records for the most Tonys and Grammys won in the same year.” (Puck didn’t know what Tonys or Grammys were, but he was pretty sure he still wouldn’t care, even if he did.)
The sky was awash with purple and orange when he pulled his truck into her driveway. Practice had gone over, he was cranky and his shoulder fucking killed, but he knew if he didn’t get this out of the way now, he’d just wuss out later. Somewhere in Berry’s three message long text (oh my god, they have character limits for a reason) she had mentioned catching up with him at school, or maybe after Glee. The first was definitely not gonna happen, for obvious reasons, and the second? Let’s just say, if there was one person Quinn hated more than him at McKinley, it was Rachel. Better to get this over with now, when no one would know about it. And maybe if he was lucky, he could get her to fool around one last time.
He rang the doorbell and quickly shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his sweatshirt. After a couple seconds, it opened and Rachel was standing in front of him in a tight little pair of yoga pants that he knew, without looking, did wonders to her already wondrous ass.
“Noah? What are you doing here?”
“I was just, ah, on my way home from practice, and I’d thought I’d stop by and…” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “say what’s up.” She looked confused and he suddenly felt nervous. This was such a stupid idea, what was he thinking? But more importantly, why was he nervous? It was like the fucking Twilight Zone.
“Noah, I don’t think this is a good idea-”
Oh God, he knew that look on her face. She thought he was groveling, that he came to win her back. Rolling his eyes, he pushed his way past her and stepped into the house.
“Listen, Berry, we need to talk. And chill out, I’m not trying to get in your pants again - although, for the record, I totally would have if you gave us one more week.”
As she closed the door and spun around, all sympathy was gone and she actually looked pretty disgusted.
“Rachel, honey, who is it?” Her dad called from the kitchen.
“It’s just Noah, Daddy. We’re gonna go up and practice some Glee stuff for a little bit!”
She grabbed his sleeve and quickly pulled him up the stairs. After gingerly closing the door of her bedroom, she turned to him.
“You know what, Noah Puckerman, you have got a lot of nerve. Coming into my house and saying things that are clearly false while both of my fathers are within earshot! Your mother-”
“Berry, you better think twice before you say anything about my mother-”
“Your mother would be ashamed-” The second her finger started wagging in his face he put his brain in hibernation mode. If this were a week ago, he could have just put his hands on her hips, let his thumbs graze the skin just above her waistband and her lips would be on his without him really trying, shutting her up real good. “…And excuse me, but you will take that hood off right this instant, this is a home, thank you very much.”
“Are you done?”
She crossed her arms and thought for a moment. “Yes.”
“Thank god. Now please, just sit down and shut up for like, five seconds.” He took a few steps backwards and plopped onto her bed. “Listen, Rach,” he tried really hard not to accept how natural it felt sitting in her Barbie Dream House and how, without thinking, he stopped being Puck and started being Noah. “You were right. About everything.”
She moved towards her desk chair and sat down slowly, worried. It was actually kinda cute. If guys like Puck thought things were “cute.”
“I’ve just been thinking…All that bullshit you said about me and Quinn, and Finn and you…” Why was he being such a tool? Why couldn’t he just say it? “You were right, okay?”
She looked at him with concern and confusion before something in that huge brain of hers clicked.
“Noah, are you trying to say you want to talk about your feelings?” She smiled gently and placed her hand on his knee. Ordinarily, he’d be pissed, but there it was: that little, soft, normal voice of hers; the one that somehow made him feel better about things (or at least forget them) no matter how shitty they were.
“Hell no,” he retorted, flipping his hood back up, “feelings are for pussies.” She rolled her eyes as he puffed his chest out. “I’m just sayin’, ya know, if you wanted to do your singing stuff after practice or help me not fail math, I wouldn’t complain.”
“I knew you’d come around. We really are more alike than you’d ever admit.” And there it was: that smug, self-righteous grin.
“Whatever, it's not like we'll be real friends who, like, hang out together at school or say hey to each other in the halls.”
“Oh God, of course not.” Say what? She totally didn’t say what he thought she just said.
“Excuse me? You’d be lucky if a stud like me said hey to you in the hall. I’m the one who shouldn’t want to be seen with you.”
“Oh, grow up, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…If there’s one thing I’ve learned at McKinley, it’s that there’s no use in fighting the social hierarchy. People like you and people like me can coexist within the confines of Glee, but outside? It’s just not worth it.”
It’s like she took the words right out of his mouth, and he smiled to himself. Maybe they actually were more alike than he'd like to admit.
“So yes, I’ll be your secret friend." She sighed to herself. "After all, it would be useful to have some insight into the heterosexual male psyche. And your math grades really are abysmal.”
“Sweet. I don’t really know what abysmal means, but I’ll take it as a compliment.”
She laughed as she stood, then pulled him into a hug. He knew badasses weren’t supposed to think things like this, but it felt nice. Not just her body pressed against his, the flowery smell of her hair overwhelming him as he burrowed his face in her neck, or the way he could wrap his arms completely around her, but just having somebody there. Not having to deal with all his shit alone or trying to protect his rep. (God, what was happening to him? Is this what it felt like to be gay?)
As he pulled away, he thought for a split second about bringing up the Quinn stuff, but if he did, he was pretty sure he’d have to start wearing tampons and watching The View.
“You know what, Noah? I’m starting to think you may actually grow up to be a lovely young man.”
“Your face will grow up to be a lovely young man.” Some things were too easy to pass up. He laughed out loud and raised his hand for a high five. “Come on, Berry, you can’t tell me that wasn’t hilarious.”
She stared at him disapprovingly before lifting a begrudging hand to give him five.
“That’s my girl.”
TBC
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2. love underground
-robbers on high street
In Puck’s world, there are basically three things that he can always count on: the sun rising every morning, setting every night, and him never getting stood up. Bear in mind, he was the chick magnet of all chick magnets. A wild stallion, if you will. Girls didn’t stand him up, he stood them up. He stood girls up like LeBron played ball, like the Terminator destroyed shit. If standing girls up were an Xbox game, he’d beat it in one sitting. If he actually bothered to pay attention in Spanish class, he could go to Mexico and stand girls up. Hell, he could go to Mexico now and stand girls up, that’s how good he was.
So needless to say, when Rachel wasn’t waiting patiently by her locker at 3:15, and still not there by 3:20, he was pretty fucking pissed.
Assuming she had decided to give him a taste of his own medicine (it wouldn’t be the first time some bitch pulled a fast one on him) he channeled all his anger into tackling the shit out of everything he saw in practice. It wasn’t til after, when he finally dug the phone out of his bag, that he saw her text.
In retrospect, he probably should have known better; she wasn't the kind of person who stood people up, no matter how awful they were to her. Berry was like the fucking Energizer bunny: it didn’t matter how many times you crushed her spirit or chucked Slushees in her face, she always bounced back with that maniacal smile, always hoping for things to change. Even when she knew people were dicks, she still smiled, but with a scheming glint in her eye that said, “you’re so gonna regret that when I’m saving orphans with Brad and Angie and breaking records for the most Tonys and Grammys won in the same year.” (Puck didn’t know what Tonys or Grammys were, but he was pretty sure he still wouldn’t care, even if he did.)
The sky was awash with purple and orange when he pulled his truck into her driveway. Practice had gone over, he was cranky and his shoulder fucking killed, but he knew if he didn’t get this out of the way now, he’d just wuss out later. Somewhere in Berry’s three message long text (oh my god, they have character limits for a reason) she had mentioned catching up with him at school, or maybe after Glee. The first was definitely not gonna happen, for obvious reasons, and the second? Let’s just say, if there was one person Quinn hated more than him at McKinley, it was Rachel. Better to get this over with now, when no one would know about it. And maybe if he was lucky, he could get her to fool around one last time.
He rang the doorbell and quickly shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his sweatshirt. After a couple seconds, it opened and Rachel was standing in front of him in a tight little pair of yoga pants that he knew, without looking, did wonders to her already wondrous ass.
“Noah? What are you doing here?”
“I was just, ah, on my way home from practice, and I’d thought I’d stop by and…” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “say what’s up.” She looked confused and he suddenly felt nervous. This was such a stupid idea, what was he thinking? But more importantly, why was he nervous? It was like the fucking Twilight Zone.
“Noah, I don’t think this is a good idea-”
Oh God, he knew that look on her face. She thought he was groveling, that he came to win her back. Rolling his eyes, he pushed his way past her and stepped into the house.
“Listen, Berry, we need to talk. And chill out, I’m not trying to get in your pants again - although, for the record, I totally would have if you gave us one more week.”
As she closed the door and spun around, all sympathy was gone and she actually looked pretty disgusted.
“Rachel, honey, who is it?” Her dad called from the kitchen.
“It’s just Noah, Daddy. We’re gonna go up and practice some Glee stuff for a little bit!”
She grabbed his sleeve and quickly pulled him up the stairs. After gingerly closing the door of her bedroom, she turned to him.
“You know what, Noah Puckerman, you have got a lot of nerve. Coming into my house and saying things that are clearly false while both of my fathers are within earshot! Your mother-”
“Berry, you better think twice before you say anything about my mother-”
“Your mother would be ashamed-” The second her finger started wagging in his face he put his brain in hibernation mode. If this were a week ago, he could have just put his hands on her hips, let his thumbs graze the skin just above her waistband and her lips would be on his without him really trying, shutting her up real good. “…And excuse me, but you will take that hood off right this instant, this is a home, thank you very much.”
“Are you done?”
She crossed her arms and thought for a moment. “Yes.”
“Thank god. Now please, just sit down and shut up for like, five seconds.” He took a few steps backwards and plopped onto her bed. “Listen, Rach,” he tried really hard not to accept how natural it felt sitting in her Barbie Dream House and how, without thinking, he stopped being Puck and started being Noah. “You were right. About everything.”
She moved towards her desk chair and sat down slowly, worried. It was actually kinda cute. If guys like Puck thought things were “cute.”
“I’ve just been thinking…All that bullshit you said about me and Quinn, and Finn and you…” Why was he being such a tool? Why couldn’t he just say it? “You were right, okay?”
She looked at him with concern and confusion before something in that huge brain of hers clicked.
“Noah, are you trying to say you want to talk about your feelings?” She smiled gently and placed her hand on his knee. Ordinarily, he’d be pissed, but there it was: that little, soft, normal voice of hers; the one that somehow made him feel better about things (or at least forget them) no matter how shitty they were.
“Hell no,” he retorted, flipping his hood back up, “feelings are for pussies.” She rolled her eyes as he puffed his chest out. “I’m just sayin’, ya know, if you wanted to do your singing stuff after practice or help me not fail math, I wouldn’t complain.”
“I knew you’d come around. We really are more alike than you’d ever admit.” And there it was: that smug, self-righteous grin.
“Whatever, it's not like we'll be real friends who, like, hang out together at school or say hey to each other in the halls.”
“Oh God, of course not.” Say what? She totally didn’t say what he thought she just said.
“Excuse me? You’d be lucky if a stud like me said hey to you in the hall. I’m the one who shouldn’t want to be seen with you.”
“Oh, grow up, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…If there’s one thing I’ve learned at McKinley, it’s that there’s no use in fighting the social hierarchy. People like you and people like me can coexist within the confines of Glee, but outside? It’s just not worth it.”
It’s like she took the words right out of his mouth, and he smiled to himself. Maybe they actually were more alike than he'd like to admit.
“So yes, I’ll be your secret friend." She sighed to herself. "After all, it would be useful to have some insight into the heterosexual male psyche. And your math grades really are abysmal.”
“Sweet. I don’t really know what abysmal means, but I’ll take it as a compliment.”
She laughed as she stood, then pulled him into a hug. He knew badasses weren’t supposed to think things like this, but it felt nice. Not just her body pressed against his, the flowery smell of her hair overwhelming him as he burrowed his face in her neck, or the way he could wrap his arms completely around her, but just having somebody there. Not having to deal with all his shit alone or trying to protect his rep. (God, what was happening to him? Is this what it felt like to be gay?)
As he pulled away, he thought for a split second about bringing up the Quinn stuff, but if he did, he was pretty sure he’d have to start wearing tampons and watching The View.
“You know what, Noah? I’m starting to think you may actually grow up to be a lovely young man.”
“Your face will grow up to be a lovely young man.” Some things were too easy to pass up. He laughed out loud and raised his hand for a high five. “Come on, Berry, you can’t tell me that wasn’t hilarious.”
She stared at him disapprovingly before lifting a begrudging hand to give him five.
“That’s my girl.”
TBC
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