My Musical Soulmate - M - Puck/Rachel - Part Four
Title: You Are The One, The Only (My Musical Soulmate)
Category: Glee
Genre: Drama/Romance/Humor
Ship: Puck/Rachel
Rating: Mature/NC-17
Prompt: 'School Secretary!Rachel and high school senior Puck.' by darlingemory - puckrachel drabble me (part 9, page 75)
Word Count: 7,550
Overall Status: Complete
Summary: Mild-mannered, high school secretary, Rachel Berry thought she wanted to live a safe, easy, drama-free life. High school senior Noah Puckerman blew that idea right out of the water. Denial can only last so long.
Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III,
You Are The One, The Only (My Musical Soulmate)
-Novel-
IV.
Noah spent every weekend at her place, telling his mom he was at Finn's and telling everybody else he had something to do at home. Burt only asked him to come in during the week, so they were basically home free.
Rachel was worried at first that having explored a more intimate side of their relationship, it might lean too heavily in that direction. While yes, she understood that their relationship was… somewhat forbidden, she didn't want it to be based on sex. When Noah had told her he loved her - and yes, sure, with it being in the throes of passion, she'd suffered some doubts - she realized that those feelings she'd been so careful to deny and disregard had been building up despite her. So it was with complete and honest sincerity that she told him she loved him too. Still, she feared that passion for one another might overcome some of the most basic parts of their relationship.
She was pleasantly surprised to find it didn't.
They still watched movies; her choice was usually one of her many musicals that, while he always moaned at, she had noticed him mouthing along to or tapping his foot along with the tune. And he, of course, always brought over action films that she occasionally still cringed at, but found herself oddly excited over, rooting loudly for the good guy. All the while, they lay cuddled up on her couch, and yes, of course, his hands wandered, but it wasn't always turned into something more. Sometimes, he just liked to rub her hip or draw random shapes on her skin beneath her shirt. Occasionally, when he got bored with the singing, he'd spend awhile working on his hickeys, covering her neck in little hearts and stars and whatever else struck his fancy.
He still visited during the week, when he wasn't busy beneath the hood of a car at the shop or watching Becca for his mom. In fact, the nights they didn't share dinner were rare and often made her feel rather lonely. She had a stack of take-out menus in her spare drawer that they would randomly pick from and order out. And she taught him a few vegan recipes too, more because he asked than because she trusted his cooking. Sometimes, he picked up something for himself and they cooked their separate meals together. His meat wasn't allowed to touch her tofu, but she'd designated the crisper his for all dead animal products. And they would sit in her kitchen, her wearing one of his t-shirts, only his t-shirt, because it smelled like him and she felt oddly feminine in them, and him in his low-slung, worn, blue jeans and a pair of socks to keep the chill out from the hardwood floors. And like every time, she would talk him into tasting what she'd made that night for dinner, which was obviously more healthy than whatever he'd put together, and he would be honest, whether it sucked in his opinion or not.
He pushed the plate away from her and then turned wide eyes in her direction, his brows hiked. "No, seriously, babe, I really don't think you should eat that… Like, I think it went bad."
She rolled her eyes, smiling. "Noah…" Honestly, sometimes he was so dramatic…
"Okay." He held his hands up. "But it legit tasted like something crawled inside it and died… 'M just sayin'…"
Scoffing, she shook her head at him. "What a way with words…"
He smirked, leaning across the table to peck her lips. "Y'know what I also have a way with?"
She giggled softly. "I can guess."
He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she squealed as he plucked her off her chair and hauled her over his shoulder.
"Put me down!" she cried through her laughter, beating her fists against his back entirely too softly to actually hurt.
He raced across her apartment, sliding across the hardwood floor in his socks. "I'm savin' you from food poisoning!" he exclaimed.
When he tossed her down on her bed and climbed up next to her, she was pretty sure of what he thought his repayment for his so-called 'good deeds' should be.
And, of course, what knight should go unappreciated?
.o.
Some of her favorite times were when they were just had a guitar and sheet music in front of them and nothing but this invisible thread of understanding and storytelling weaving between them.
Their songs weren't always good. She once had a severe bout of writer's block that resulted in a whole ballad to a particular headband she rather liked that week. He laughed for nearly an hour straight, the same amount of time she pouted and told him he was unprofessional and wouldn't be seeing her outside of her clothes for a very long time.
But then they had these nights where all she heard were his fingers sliding over strings, plucking, picking, testing, always listening, with this expert ear and his eyes narrowed, waiting for that tune to jump out and truly touch something inside him. And then he would have a melody, a stunning compilation of sound that moved her, and they would lie on their stomachs, a pen each, tossing out words and stories, hopes, fears, desires, losses, everything that came to mind. Until they had a song.
Something happy, something sad, something on the brink of some unknown feeling that tore at their guts and repaired them at the same time. And she would stare at their lyrics and the music notes scratched above them, with their names written at the top, and she would feel that all-encompassing hope that they could really do this, they could really be these people, with these dreams of living on love and music swelling up inside her.
And then he would kiss her shoulder, like he always did, like he was saying, without words: Good job. I love you. I couldn't ask for a better partner. You're it, you're everything, for me.
And she would turn her head and smile at him and hope her eyes returned the sentiment.
.o.
They were going to win Regionals.
Puck knew it.
Sometimes, he read over their song and he just thought, Yeah. Fuck yeah. Because he was going to go out on that stage and he was going to sing this song that he wrote, that he and Rachel put together all by themselves, and he was going to show the glee club and every stranger in that room that he was talented.
They were going to win.
And he had Rachel, loving her and being with her and writing with her, to thank for it.
.o.
She liked to leave him notes. In the pocket of his jeans, the glove box of his truck, in his Letterman's jacket.
Sometimes they were inspirational quotes.
Sometimes they were just funny things that happened on a show they were watching, hoping to bring a smile to his face.
Most of the time they were things to remind him that she was thinking of him; that she cared.
She couldn't sign them for obvious reasons, but she always left a little star at the bottom.
.o.
"Noah, this is ridiculous!"
He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Rach, you're the one wearing a wig and giant sunglasses… at night."
She glared at him, or he thought she did; she was wearing freaking sunglasses. "Do you have any idea how much trouble we could get into if anybody from the school sees me with you?"
"Your car broke down." He shrugged. "I was just giving you a ride."
"To the theater?" She shook her head, mouth ajar. "My car broke down and I thought it made sense to catch a movie?"
He grinned. "I'm really damn persuasive."
She motioned a hand around the cab of his truck, where she sat in legit a trench coat and a blonde wig. "Obviously!"
He laughed. "Okay, listen… Nobody's gonna notice."
"How? Why?" She tipped her head suspiciously. "You didn't call in some kind of bomb threat and empty out the theatre and a three mile radius, did you? Because I was joking… It was a great idea, but it was a joke."
Grinning to himself, he shook his head. "First, it's like… Monday. Nobody in high school sees a movie on a Monday."
Her nose wrinkled. "Why?"
"Because it's cheaper on Tuesday." He nodded. "Might as well wait one more day."
She lowered her glasses to blink at him disapprovingly. "That is the full basis of your reasoning?"
"No."
She raised a brow as if to say, Well?
"We're an hour early." He shrugged. "I paid a guy I know that works at the theater to let us in so we can get our seats before anybody else shows up. It'll be crazy dark by the time everybody else gets there and when the movie's over, we'll sneak out the back." He shrugged. "Plus, you're all incognito, which you're totally pulling off."
She grinned at the compliment but then frowned. "What are we going to do for an hour?"
He smirked lazily at her.
.o.
Noah was right. Nobody paid them any attention. Even the guy he paid to let them in just waved them through dismissively. They spent an hour making out in the back of a dark theatre and Rachel hadn't noticed when people started filing inside. It wasn't until the trailers were flashing in front of her, the noise so loud it couldn't be ignored, that she untangled herself from where she found herself seated in his lap and took her seat once more, wiping at her swollen lips and shifting in her seat, squeezing her thighs together.
But Noah proved distracting even when she was trying to give the movie her full attention. He kept running his finger in a circle atop her knee, over and over, bigger and bigger, until his fingertips were lightly dragging up and down the length of her thigh. She couldn't help how she shivered, how a faint gasp escaped her lips.
She watched Noah's lips quirk in satisfaction before his hand slid ever higher, beneath the cover of her skirt. Her knees parted naturally, instinctively, despite her better judgment. They were in a crowded theatre and she should not be-
She clapped a hand over her mouth as he pressed three fingers against her firmly, rubbing his middle in slow jerking motions before flicking it up to tap her clit through her underwear. She gripped his arm, her nails digging into the curve of his elbow.
He chuckled lowly and slid his fingers over, hooking them and dragging the damp fabric aside. She forced her legs impossibly wider, hating that the seat didn't accommodate her flexibility. As if sensing her frustration, he turned to look at her, smirk riding his lips in a devilishly handsome twist.
Just as quickly as his humor came, it faded however. He watched her face, his eyes growing dark, as his fingers slid slowly over her folds, tracing them, drawing shapes and letters and random, spiraling patterns against her wet, sensitive slit. And he sunk one, two fingers inside as his thumb flicked her clit.
Her eyes closed as a thrum of incredible ecstasy rocked her body forward and then back. So close, so damn close. He thrust slow and shallow, giving her just enough to keep her on edge, rubbing his thumb in circles around, but not near enough to her throbbing, demanding clit.
She was panting, chewing her lip, gripping his arm so tight she thought she might draw blood.
And then he leaned over and he kissed the corner of her mouth. He dragged his fingers away, leaving a hot, wet mess against her thighs.
She stared up at him in confusion until he took her hand in his and drew her up out of her seat.
They walked out the front doors, not paying any attention to who might be looking, and practically ran to his truck. Her knees were wobbly and her underwear was soaked, but she kept pace with him.
He fairly shoved her into the truck, parked neatly behind the theater, away from prying eyes. Her wig fell off, to the floor of his truck, and her hair spilled free in a tangle.
He leaned her back on the seat and flipped up her skirt, tugging her panties down her thighs to just above her knees before his mouth was on her.
She grunted, her hands finding the top of his head, both pushing and pulling at him as his lips and tongue set in on her. God, but she loved the way he made her feel. She'd never known this kind of bliss with her previous boyfriends. She couldn't remember ever being so desperate for hands moving, gripping, kneading at her skin. For lips ghosting over her ankles, her knees, her hips as softly, as reverently as they did her lips. For the scrape of whiskers, faint across his jaw, abrading her thighs. Maybe it was him. Maybe she would never feel this with anyone else. And she couldn't muster any fear for that. Any fear that one day she might miss this passion; this incredible feeling of wanting and being wanted. She wondered briefly if that meant she didn't think she'd ever be without him or something else entirely.
He suckled her clit, his teeth grazing, his tongue flicking, and then he sunk lower, tasting the length of her slit, making her quiver and arch her hips for more. One of his hands slid beneath him and tangled with her underwear, dragging it further down, where they got stuck on her foot, her shoe, before he finally tossed them down to the floor, forgotten. His tongue was curling, lapping at her, and her thighs tensed almost painfully. Her back bowed off the truck seat and his hands gripped her ass, squeezing, kneading his long fingers, holding her against his mouth.
She reached for him, grabbing at his shoulders, digging her nails in, balling his shirt up into her fists as she muttered unintelligible things, fractured sentences, babbled, pleading words, "More… More… God, you… Yes, there… Oh, oh… I can't… I can't… Please, Noah, please…"
He dropped her back to the seat and detached from her and she frowned at the loss. But he was yanking her shirt out her skirt just as quickly, tearing her blouse open, sending buttons flying. And she remembered, vaguely, something he'd said to her about how she would feel with some safe husband, wishing she had someone who wanted her so much he would tear her clothes from her body. She'd been eager and excited then, but to actually have it happening… To see the hunger in his eyes as he dragged her bra down and out of the way, bunching her skirt at her waist, she almost climaxed just from the raw want in his face, in his eyes as they drank in her heaving breasts and her slick thighs.
She sat up and reached for his shirt, pulling it up his body and over his head, admiring the way his shoulders moved and flexed, how the muscles tightened along his biceps. His shirt fell to the dashboard and she dragged her hands down his chest, pausing to flick his silver nipple ring before scraping her nails down the trail of dark hair leading from his navel. She undid his belt without looking, keeping her eyes on his, yanking on it until it was free, before she unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper, shoving them down a few inches, her thumbs rubbing across his hipbones. She sunk her hand down and drew him free of the confines of his pants, her hand gripping his shaft, so hard, so hot, thumb flicking up and over the head, swiping pre-cum and rubbing it in an infinity sign across his skin, over and over.
He leaned in and kissed her, so hard their teeth knocked and she was flattened against the seat once more. He hiked her legs up onto his thighs and she could feel his jeans, the denim coarse against her skin. He reached past to the glove compartment and knocked it open, grabbing out a condom he kept stashed there and tore it open with his teeth. While he rolled it on, he ducked his head and wrapped his lips around a pebbled nipple, nuzzled his nose against her breast as he sucked and plucked lightly with his teeth. She gripped the tail of his 'hawk and held him against her, arching into his talented tongue.
He gripped her ass in his hands and lifted her as he sunk inside and she threw her head back hard, nearly knocking it against the armrest on the door. He just filled her so completely, stretching her until she felt him everywhere. The feeling zig-zagged down her body until her toes curled and she drew a deep, raspy breath.
It wasn't the easiest position, her one leg was flattened against the back of the seat, although he helped that by simply hooking her leg over his shoulder. He dragged his fingers down the back of her thigh, blunt nails scraping lightly.
It was quick and hard and incredible.
He pumped inside her furiously, never slowing. He leaned down over her, mouth moving from her breasts to her neck down to her belly and back. And his hands were all over, holding her waist, teasing her thighs, playing with her nipples, plucking them, rolling them between his fingers. When she felt it coming, she slid her own hand down between them and rubbed her fingers against her clit. And she felt him twitch inside her before he bent down and caught her lips, his hand buried in her hair, tightening, tangling. He snapped his hips, twisted and turned them, and she came on a cry against his mouth, panting his name as his tongue reached out and dabbed her lip, before his teeth bit down and he came on a growled grunt.
He slid her leg down and out of the way before he collapsed on top of her, panting, cheek stuck to her slick skin. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath, smiling as she felt a warm tingle of satisfaction spread all over.
"That was…"
"Fuckin' amazing," he said, nodding.
She laughed turning her head down to look at him. "I had no idea what was going on in that movie."
He grinned, resting his chin on her. "Fuck if I know."
She dragged her fingers down his face and he nipped after them playfully.
Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she shook her head. "I can't tell if public date night was a fail or not…"
His eyebrows hiked. "Babe, the best part of public date night is public sex…" He shook his head. "Perfect score. Ten out of ten." He held a hand up for her to high-five and with a roll of her eyes, she did.
Somehow, she thought him running to a garbage can in a dark, dirty parking lot to throw out their used condom was not as romantic as he might have thought. But when he climbed into the truck after, took her hand, and kissed her palm, she decided it really didn't matter. And when they got back to her place and took a shower before cuddling up on the couch, watching a movie over Netflix with a bowl of popcorn and his favorite, Red Vines, she thought it was much better.
.o.
Puck was whistling as he worked. He only had one car left before he was done for the day and all it needed was an oil change.
"Hey," Finn called out as he walked over.
Puck nodded in reply.
"So Mike and Sam texted, they're breaking out the X-Box, wanna know if you wanna hang."
Puck tried to remember the last time he spent any real time with the guys. His brows furrowed. He seriously couldn't remember. He'd been so caught up in Rachel and everything that he mostly just saw the guys at school. And especially since they started dating on the down lo, he spent all of his free time with her.
But it was Thursday, and that usually meant they hit up BreadstiX for take-out and watched Grey's, which he totally didn't like, but she loved. And then he talked her into watching Criminal Minds even though that serial killer shit scared her, 'cause that mostly just meant she cuddled up with him more than usual.
"Uh…" He wiped his hands on a rag and reached into his coveralls for his cell. "Gimme a sec."
He shot off a text to Rachel, half hoping she'd tell him to have fun with his friends and half hoping she'd tell him she was looking forward to seeing him and he should blow them off, even if that wasn't her style. It wasn't that he didn't wanna hang with the guys, it was just… Rachel. But at the same time, he did kinda want to just kick back and relax, blow of some steam.
He scrubbed a hand through his 'hawk as he waited, ignoring Finn's curious staring.
His phone dinged with her reply and his lips quirked.
You should go out with them! You don't like Grey's anyway! But, if it's not too late after, come say goodnight! ;)
He grinned and replied that he'd stop by even if it was late before turning to look at Finn and shrugging. "Yeah, I can hang."
Finn looked between him and his phone. "Asking your mom?" he wondered.
"I just gotta finish up with this car and then we can head," he said, ignoring his question.
"Oh, you want some help?" he offered.
"Sure. Faster we get it done, faster I can kick your ass at COD."
He snorted. "You're on."
.o.
"We should make this like, a weekly thing…" Mike said, before he threw his head back, stuck a fist to his chest and gave a long, loud burp.
The other guys laughed.
Sam shook his head. "I dunno if I can eat this much pizza every week," he muttered, rubbing his full stomach.
"Dude, nobody made you eat that whole thing," Finn reminded, eyes wide.
He grinned. "It was really good."
"My schedule's kinda packed to do this weekly…" Puck said, shrugging.
"Hey, yeah, what's up with that?" Sam turned to look at him, brows furrowed. "You're never around anymore…"
Mike nudged him with his elbow. "Yeah, who's the lucky lady, Puck?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Or is this another of those long line of cougar things…?" He frowned.
Puck pursed his lips, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Nah… No cougars. I'm done with that."
Sam and Finn exchanged a look while Mike nodded sagely, patting his shoulder.
"Good idea, man… Honestly, I'm a little surprised you haven't been seriously hurt by someone's husband by now…"
His eyebrows hiked. "Are you kidding? Some dude stabbed me with a fork once."
"A fork?" Finn laughed.
Puck shrugged. "First thing he grabbed."
They chuckled, shaking their heads at him.
"So what happened?" Sam asked.
"Dudes, this isn't book club, we're not gonna start having heart to hearts and flashing our vaginas at each other… We're here to blow shit up." He waved his controller.
"Classic defense strategy," Mike said, eyes narrowed. "What's up, Puck?"
He rolled his eyes. "Nothing. I came here to hang out with you guys and play COD. Not talk chicks."
Sam frowned in confusion. "Don't we usually do both?"
Sighing, he glanced at the time. It was almost eight, which meant she'd be watching Big Bang Theory soon. And then Parks and Rec, with a Family Guy rerun on commercials. He frowned. When the hell did he learn that schedule?
"If Puck doesn't wanna talk about it, it's cool," Finn defended.
"I don't." Puck looked back at them. "So can we focus? Sam was complaining about eating his weight in pizza…" He waved a finger around as if to tell them to continue.
Mike was still giving him a suspicious look, but eventually, they got back to basics. Junk food, name calling, and blowing shit up.
All in all, when he wasn't watching the clock and wondering what Rachel was doing, it was a pretty cool night.
.o.
She buzzed him in at eleven and waited in her open doorway for him to come off the elevator. She met him with a sleepy smile and her arms out. He hugged her around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder, kissing her neck.
"Did you have fun?" she asked.
He backed her up into her apartment and kicked the door closed behind him, drawing his head up to look down at her, her shiny dark hair mussed from her pillow. "Yeah. Think I'm good for Red Vines for the rest of the month." He frowned, thinking of the three packs he ate over the course of the night.
She laughed lightly and tipped her head back to see him. "I'm glad." She scrubbed her nails down the nape of his neck. "You're always busy and you spend all your time with me…" She rolled her eyes lightly. "Not that I'm complaining, but… You should have time with your friends too."
"Mmhmm." He leaned down and pecked her lips. "So?" He shrugged. "What happened on Grey's?"
Her eyes lit up. "Oh!" she said excitedly. Taking his hand, she led him to her couch, where she spent the next half hour telling him every detail.
And he didn't like Grey's, seriously, he didn't. But he grinned the whole time. She was just so animated and happy, with her hands waving around and her cheeks flushed. She was beautiful. And he'd have happily spent the whole night listening to her talk about the show. But it was late and he had school tomorrow and she was yawning every five minutes anyway. So finally, he said he should go.
She walked him to the door, resting her head against his arm.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Nodding, he leaned down to kiss her goodbye. "Love you."
She smiled. "Love you too."
So yeah, that weekly games night, he decided maybe that'd be okay. He'd just drop by and catch up with her afterward. At least this way he didn't have to actually watch Grey's. He could just listen to her recap and watch her be cute. Win, win.
.o.
Rachel was excited and nervous and she had no idea why.
It was Valentine's Day. An overrated holiday that for the life of her she couldn't remember ever enjoying. Yes, for a little while each year, she let the hopeless romantic inside her loose. But then reality would come crashing down and she would remember that she was a mature woman who didn't need the frivolity of flowers and teddy bears and chocolates. Of course, she hadn't had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day either. Especially one like Noah.
School hadn't even begun yet, but already girls walked up and down the hallways, some with flowers, some with balloons, a few with cheesy teddy bears proclaiming their significant other's love. They gushed to their friends and rubbed it in others faces and really, Rachel thought, it was either a popularity contest or a matter of whose boyfriend had more money to spoil them with. She rolled her eyes at it all. What a fuss over nothing!
And then, a man walked into the office with a large bouquet of pristine white and red roses.
Rachel took a deep breath and pasted a smile on as he handed her a clipboard to sign. "Who are these for?" she asked, wondering how much enthusiasm she might muster to make the call across the PA. She'd already had to do this no less than six times since she arrived for work. Although, she suspected three of the bouquets delivered to Coach Sylvester were sent by Sue herself.
"Uh…" He looked down at his notes again and nodded. "Rachel Berry."
Her eyes widened. "I-I'm sorry?"
"Says here they're for Rachel Berry." He shrugged. "Happy V-Day." With that, he turned and left.
Rachel gaped, turning her eyes back on the lovely arrangement. It wasn't that she hadn't expected her and Noah to celebrate, but they'd agreed to something small and simple; to spending the evening together. She certainly hadn't expected anything extravagant. But… She had to admit, the flowers really were just gorgeous.
She carefully searched for a card and finally found one stuck carefully between the stems.
Searching her immediate vicinity for others, she bit her lip and tore open the envelope eagerly.
It wasn't signed, instead there were four simple sentences scrawled in his familiar writing.
I remember when I realized
The depth of your beauty for the first time
A million ears had heard you
But none had listened quite like mine.
She smiled slowly. It was beautiful, but it felt… unfinished.
She spent her morning running them over in her head, thinking of them in his voice, of his hands on his guitar. Of him scrawling it out on their sheet paper as he sat up late one night at home, tapping his foot against his bed.
She hardly got any work done. She was too busy thinking of him, scanning everybody who walked past her office for his face. A few times she even considered paging him just for an excuse to see him. But she remained resolved that she would just have to wait for the end of the day. They would celebrate then. Until that time, she would admire her flowers, sitting prettily on her desk, their scent wafting over to her and making her smile widen.
.o.
As break rolled around, she waited hopefully, looking from the door to the clock. They had an unspoken rule that he shouldn't drop in and see her, just in case it aroused suspicion, but she was beginning to seriously regret that.
Suddenly, a chipper blonde flounced into her office, a wide smile on her face. She waved.
"Hello Brittany," Rachel said, standing from her seat. "Any progress on your cat?"
She pouted her lips sadly. "Unfortunately, I think he has an ecstasy addiction now."
Her brows furrowed. "Really…" She turned her eyes away for a moment. "Well, I'm sure with some encouragement and support you'll have him rehabilitated in no time."
Brittany broke out in a bright grin and nodded. "Yeah, that's what my girlfriend said… But with not so many words…"
Rachel bit her lip as she nodded in return.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Puckleberry," she said, dropping a box of chocolates on the counter before turning on her heel and walking off.
"Puckle-what?" she called after her in confusion. Shaking her head, she looked back down at the box of chocolate before her and her brows furrowed. They were vegan and she knew from having had a few over the years, they were delicious.
A small card sat on top and she turned it over curiously.
Every phrase that leaves your lips
Makes me feel as if I'm paralyzed
Talking is trivial, sing another crazy note
And I will be a third below
She smiled and held the card against her heart. It was risky, asking his friend to deliver it, but Rachel trusted he knew what he was doing. No offense to Brittany, but Rachel got the idea that she wasn't all quite there. And sadly, she rather hoped that was the case, because she didn't imagine it would go over well if she shared that Noah had asked her to give the secretary chocolates.
Taking a seat at her desk, she plucked one from the box and let it melt on her tongue. All the while, she thought over what she'd said.
Puckleberry.
What an odd girl.
.o.
By lunch time, Rachel had polished off half her chocolates, slapped Principal Figgins hand away when he tried to sneak one, and fielded various calls for Sue Sylvester that came from a surprising amount of men and a few women pledging their love for her.
The teddy bear snuck up on her.
Honestly, she wasn't so busy that she hadn't seen someone come in. She couldn't have been!
But there it was, sitting simply on her counter, holding a stuffed pink microphone in one paw and a heart in the other. A small card was tucked under the red ribbon tied in a bow around its neck.
She brought it down to her desk and shook her head, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt.
Darling listen
The audience is calling you
(They're calling you)
There's no way in hell that
They will ever feel you like I do
"Well? Wouldn't you be in love with him?" She turned the mic up to the bear's mouth. "Exactly. It's impossible not to be."
She placed the bear with her flowers and half-eaten chocolates.
Every few minutes, she would look over at them and her heart would swell.
.o.
As the day came to an end, she watched the clock, waiting for the bell to ring, eager to leave as soon as possible. Principal Figgins had been kind enough to tell her she could leave at quarter after three, having seen her gifts and expecting she had plans. She knew Noah didn't have to work at Burt's and he'd already left a flower and a box of chocolates each for his mom and sister. Which meant he was all hers for the rest of the day.
The balloons surprised her.
She'd been sure that she wouldn't get any more; she'd already been completely spoiled.
But then a delivery man walked into her office with a handful of heart-shaped balloons.
"Rachel Berry?"
Nodding, she buried her face in her hands and laughed. Shaking her head, she brought her hands down and sighed softly. "Sorry…" She held a hand out to sign off on them before taking the strings and drawing them over the counter.
A note was attached to one; she flipped it up and read the last of his song.
It makes no difference where you come from
I don't care if you need my love
You know I'll be there
I swear I want to sing to the world
No need to keep it a secret
You are the one, the only
My musical soulmate
Grabbing up the rest, she read it through three times before wiping at her eyes as they burned with tears.
Her heart pounded in her chest and her hands shook as she breathed in deeply.
She had to sit down when her knees shook.
This boy- man, she corrected, was so unexpected. He'd come into her life, full of mischief and flirtation and she'd been so sure it wouldn't amount to anything. And now she was in this clandestine affair with him, against all moral reasoning. But how he made her feel… How loved she felt with him in her life…
She couldn't regret it.
Not one bit.
.o.
Puck had already talked his ma down twice. She wanted to meet his girlfriend, one she was sure he had since he suspiciously had plans on Valentine's Day. He tried the 'hanging out with the guys' thing, but she reminded him that most of his friends had girlfriends and the others were surely handsome enough to get a date for the night. And when he tried to argue he didn't have a girlfriend, she suggested he spend the night with them then; they'd go to BreadstiX or order in and have a family night. He blamed it on the fact that she was lonely and he got her flowers; damn him for being a badass son. So he begged off again and told her he really did have plans and no, they weren't with a girlfriend. So what if he was lying. She'd thank him someday for not putting another scandal on her plate.
He and Rachel did have plans. And he figured she had to be pretty stoked after all the gifts he got her. Saved up a crapload of money from working with Burt to get all that stuff too. And yeah, he wasn't really a big fan of holidays like this, especially when they didn't mean a day off from school, but he knew his girl deserved it. Plus he worked his ass off on that song and he planned on singing it to her later. It was the first one he'd written on his own since they started writing together. And he was kind of proud of it.
She buzzed him up without him having to say a word.
He took the stairs because the elevator was gonna take awhile.
When he came around the corner, she was waiting in the doorway, staring impatiently at the elevator doors, chewing on her lip.
"Hey," he called out.
Her head swiveled abruptly and a smile brightened her face as she saw him. Not bothering to wait for him to reach her, she ran down the hall and jumped into his arms with a happy squeal.
He laughed, catching her.
She kissed him before he could get another word out. Fingers buried in the tail of his 'hawk, legs squeezing his waist, her lips slanted across his until air became a pained necessity, stabbing at his chest.
When she finally drew back, lips swollen, she panted, "Hi," at him and nuzzled his nose.
"Yeah…" He licked his lips and blinked a few times, trying to focus. Clearing his throat, he managed, "Happy Valentine's Day."
She pressed her forehead to his. "Noah… Your gifts…" She shook her head. "You didn't have to." She pecked his mouth. "But thank you."
"Welcome." He looked around. "We should probably go in your apartment."
She flushed. "Oh. Right." She laughed. "I-I got excited."
He grinned. "S'way I like it."
She rolled her eyes and unwrapped her legs from his waist.
He squeezed her thigh though to keep her holding onto him and walked down the hall. He closed her door behind them and turned her back to it. Brushing her hair back from her face, he rubbed his thumb over her cheek. "You want me to sing it for you?"
She leaned into his touch and nodded.
It was a good thing he'd started leaving his guitar at her place.
Patting her butt, he let her down to her feet before he walked into her bedroom.
He paused when he found her gift to him on the bed.
A flimsy red lace teddy.
Eyebrows hiked, he turned to look at her.
She smirked at him seductively. "Happy Valentine's Day, Noah."
He changed his mind.
Best fucking holiday ever.
.o.
"I think… that's… the whole… apartment…" she panted, turning her head to look at him from where they sat on the cool floor.
He grinned and held a hand up.
With a laugh, she high-fived him. "Well done, partner."
He snorted before turning his head to look at her. "I didn't think that table was gonna hold up…" He shrugged. "Strong furniture."
She nodded. "I think it's oak."
"Sweet."
"One of the legs felt a little loose though…"
Just as she said it, the decorative table they'd only just finished screwing on gave a groan and a snap before it collapsed, taking a lamp down with it.
"Probably not oak then…"
He started laughing, pressing a hand to his stomach and bending over.
She shook her head at him, smiling. "On the bright side…" She lifted a shoulder. "I'll need a new table… Which means another piece of furniture we're yet to christen…"
Sitting back up on a happy sigh, he leaned over and kissed her. "I like the way you think."
.o.
It was an early Sunday morning when she got the urge.
"Would you like to see my mom?" she asked him.
He was in the middle of flipping a vegan chocolate chip pancake when she called the question to him from where she was sitting on her couch.
He stared at her a second, brow raised, and then nodded. "Yeah, sure." Turning the stove down, he walked over, dropping down to sit with her.
She turned the laptop in his direction. "I told you she was a struggling singer…?" She clicked on a button and brought up a YouTube page. "Well, she still is…"
His eyes widened as he took in the background picture of a beautiful brunette, her head tipped, long hair falling down her back in waves. She looked… just like Rachel. Like, it was uncanny.
"She's hot," he mentioned.
"Noah!" She slapped his shoulder.
He snorted and wrapped an arm around her. "No, I mean… It's crazy. She looks just like you."
"Well, technically, I suppose I would look like her…" She chewed her lip, her brow furrowed. "She is quite attractive though, isn't she?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, but… You're hotter."
She turned to smile at him. "Thank you, Noah."
"No, I mean it."
Unconsciously, she reached up and touched her nose.
He batted her hand away. "I love your nose."
She looked over at him, uncertain.
"Seriously…" He nodded, face full of sincerity. "Your nose has been passed down from generation to generation as a birth right; it's a sign of survival among our people! And you?" He grinned. "You rock it, babe!"
She laughed, ducking her head slightly, cheeks blooming pink, and leaned into him. "In any case…" She motioned to the screen. "Would you like to hear her sing?"
He shrugged. "Rach…" He shook his head. "She might've come first, but she's a knock-off…" He kissed her hair. "I don't know her, so I can't really speak for her. But I know one good thing she did and that was bringing you into the world… It's her loss she doesn't know you."
Rachel turned a watery smile on him. "Really?"
He kissed her lips lingeringly and held her face, making her look him in the eye. "Really."
She sniffled before finally nodding.
Wiping her tears away, he kissed her forehead and then her nose. "I gotta go check our pancakes before they burn."
"Okay."
They didn't watch Shelby's videos.
And Rachel unsubscribed from her.
When Puck asked why she just shook her head, "I think it's time I stop chasing after bits and pieces of her."
Despite it all, she actually looked happy, even content with her decision. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
.o.
It was weird, but he didn't notice it until a week before Regionals.
He walked by Jacob Ben Israel and the kid didn't flinch. He didn't cross the hall or dart into an abandoned classroom. He just walked on by.
Puck figured it made sense since he hadn't picked on him in awhile. Like, since Rachel was dating that Adams jerk.
He didn't worry like he thought he would. He didn't start wondering if people thought he was losing his badass edge. Ben Israel wasn't posting on his blog that he was a wuss like he had when Puck was dating Lauren. He was just… another guy. A guy who didn't toss people in dumpsters or shove them into lockers or swirly them for the hell of it. 'Cause he was calm. He had shit handled. There was no real stress in his life outside of homework. His ma wasn't on him to be a better son because he was a better son. He helped out with his sister and he did the dishes every night and he worked at the shop for Burt. And outside of that, he spent most of his time with Rachel, in her apartment, writing songs or just, being together.
Puck was happy. Happier than he'd ever been.
So he wasn't surprised really when somebody started to notice.
.o.
"What's up with you?"
Puck looked up to see Santana hovering nearby, hands on her hips, bitch-face marked with a sneer and a cocked eyebrow.
"Nothing," he said, hauling his guitar up and over his shoulder. "I gotta head. Ma's working late again."
She shook her head. "Something's different with you."
His brows hiked. "I think all that les-loving you're gettin' from Britt is going to your head."
"Please…" she scoffed. "You're all… glowy or whatever."
He scowled. "What is this, Twilight? I don't glow, San. I'm a dude."
She rolled her eyes. "And you're smiling all the time… It's weird."
"Yeah, shit, call the police, Puckerman's happy," he muttered sarcastically.
She pursed her lips. "Don't play me for a fool… I know something's up." She walked toward him, lip curled. "And you gots to know I'll figure it out." With a wiggle of her fingers, she left the choir room.
Jaw ticking, Puck glared at the floor.
Santana was like a damn blood hound and she hated being left out of the loop.
He wondered if it'd be smarter to let it play out or to just tell her the truth.
Much as she used to be his les-bro, she'd blow this shit wide open. He couldn't risk that.
Couldn't risk Rachel.
[To be continued: Part V.]