When he gets up to leave they’re still on the couch, Rachel curled into Santana’s side while Santana strokes her hair. He stupidly reaches to touch his Mohawk because they usually stroke him afterward. Santana sees and scoffs at him before kissing Rachel’s forehead and dragging her off to her room.
Her bed is a huge California king that she shamed her dad into buying after he forgot her birthday. He doesn’t know it’s because she regularly sleeps with two people and needs the space to roll away when they’re done fucking because she hates cuddling right after.
When he knocks on the door he expects to be told to go away but Santana says come in. He peeks his head in and she raises her eyebrows at him expectantly. Rachel rolls her eyes and turns on her side with her head on Santana’s stomach.
“Hey,” he says and he knows he sounds like Finn. So, you know, dumb. He’s just not good at this and they both look like they’re going to ask him to leave any second. “Uh, I got you guys this,” he says, pulling the box from behind his back. Rachel looks curious and Santana looks bored.
“What’s inside, dumb ass?” Santana says. Rachel pinches the skin on her stomach and Santana groans. “We’re supposed to be mad at him and he brought a stupid box. I’m not marrying him. So.”
Yeah, there’s not anything good inside of it. Definitely not a ring and he can’t exactly marry the both of them anyway.
“It’s not a ring,” he says, annoyed. He sits at the edge of her bed and hands it over. “It’s not anything really. I was going to get you guys something but you’re both fucking difficult. I just needed a way to slide in my apology.”
Rachel opens it. “There’s really nothing inside of it.”
Santana laughs and shakes her head in disbelief, “You brought us a freaking empty box.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I was an ass. Can we get over this, please? I’m dying here.”
“Dying from what?” Rachel asks.
“Being on the fucking outside. Jacking off. Everything.”
“This guy brought us an empty box,” Santana says again. “Like, a box that’s fucking empty. I just - You’re one of a kind, Puckerman.”
He grins because she’s smiling. He doesn’t duck fast enough to miss the hand she claps to the back of his head but it slides down his neck and tugs him closer after a minute. And, yeah, that’s that because he did at least bring condoms.
Amazing. Santana and Rachel fucking just to taunt him was PERFECT, because they so would. It would be like, the one time Santana said, "Go ahead and think up whatever fantasy you want and we'll play it out, baby." They'd go crazy.
Puck showing up with an empty box just to get his foot in the door. He's really lucky he didn't get his ass beat for that.
Her bed is a huge California king that she shamed her dad into buying after he forgot her birthday. He doesn’t know it’s because she regularly sleeps with two people and needs the space to roll away when they’re done fucking because she hates cuddling right after.
When he knocks on the door he expects to be told to go away but Santana says come in. He peeks his head in and she raises her eyebrows at him expectantly. Rachel rolls her eyes and turns on her side with her head on Santana’s stomach.
“Hey,” he says and he knows he sounds like Finn. So, you know, dumb. He’s just not good at this and they both look like they’re going to ask him to leave any second. “Uh, I got you guys this,” he says, pulling the box from behind his back. Rachel looks curious and Santana looks bored.
“What’s inside, dumb ass?” Santana says. Rachel pinches the skin on her stomach and Santana groans. “We’re supposed to be mad at him and he brought a stupid box. I’m not marrying him. So.”
Yeah, there’s not anything good inside of it. Definitely not a ring and he can’t exactly marry the both of them anyway.
“It’s not a ring,” he says, annoyed. He sits at the edge of her bed and hands it over. “It’s not anything really. I was going to get you guys something but you’re both fucking difficult. I just needed a way to slide in my apology.”
Rachel opens it. “There’s really nothing inside of it.”
Santana laughs and shakes her head in disbelief, “You brought us a freaking empty box.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I was an ass. Can we get over this, please? I’m dying here.”
“Dying from what?” Rachel asks.
“Being on the fucking outside. Jacking off. Everything.”
“This guy brought us an empty box,” Santana says again. “Like, a box that’s fucking empty. I just - You’re one of a kind, Puckerman.”
He grins because she’s smiling. He doesn’t duck fast enough to miss the hand she claps to the back of his head but it slides down his neck and tugs him closer after a minute. And, yeah, that’s that because he did at least bring condoms.
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Amazing. Santana and Rachel fucking just to taunt him was PERFECT, because they so would. It would be like, the one time Santana said, "Go ahead and think up whatever fantasy you want and we'll play it out, baby." They'd go crazy.
Puck showing up with an empty box just to get his foot in the door. He's really lucky he didn't get his ass beat for that.
Amazing.
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I love them and they'd be so over the top with it just to fuck with him.
♥
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