You Could Hide Beside Me
Title: You Could Hide Beside Me
Chapter: 1/1
Warning: Based on the sneak peak for FUNK. No spoilers other than that. This one's not related to the other fictable stories.
Pairing: Puck/Rachel
Summary: Fictable prompt #11 - Name.
Word Count: 1,373
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Rachel's the first to leave practice, which he thinks is pretty weird, because she usually hangs back and like, bitches to Schue about whatever while everyone else leaves. He doesn't think he's ever left a practice before her, actually.
So naturally, he runs after her, calling to Quinn over his shoulder, telling her he'll be home later. (Oops. Hope she has a ride.)
"Hey!" he calls after Rachel as she scurries (seriously) down the hall. "Yo! Crazycakes!"
She spins around with a scowl on her face and crosses her arms. He can't tell if she's bored or pissed. Maybe a combination of both that has her sticking her hip out like that and sighing. Whatever.
"What?"
"What was with the smackdown in there?" he asks, chuckling. "You kinda flipped out on me."
"You were being crude, and there's no place for that in rehearsal," she explains. She turns away again, strutting towards her locker. He follows.
"I think you're the only one who even caught that joke. Props." He holds up his fist and she looks at him like he's lost his mind if he thinks she's going to touch him. "Okay, seriously. What's with you?"
"Nothing is with me," she says bitterly, shoving her books into her backpack.
"You're pissed."
"I'm not in the mood for an interrogation."
He leans against the lockers and reaches out, running his fingertips down her arm to circle her wrist. "What are you in the mood for?" he asks, voice low.
And see, here's the thing with he and Rachel. It's not like they hate each other. Actually, he really likes her. She's hilarious (because she has no idea how ridiculous she is, and it's a riot to watch her take herself so seriously). And she's totally nice, even when she's being crazy. Like right now. He's pretty sure this is as mean as she can get.
And really? Her yelling, "Shut it, Puckerman!" in rehearsal was totally hot. Like, damn. And honestly, he's kind of been working towards round two of Puckleberry (Christ, that's embarrassing) since that night in her bedroom when she like, listened to him and stuff and he tried to kiss her because he'd never had anyone actually care about what he was saying before.
Plus, she looked totally cute in that dress and those red tights.
Anyway.
Basically, if she needs an outlet for her stress, he's there. And if that outlet gets her naked and under him, even better. (He's not holding his breath for that, but hey, a guy can dream.)
"Your advances are hardly effective, Noah," she bites out, slamming her locker closed.
She starts walking away, but he grabs her elbow. There's seriously something going on with her, and he wants to know what it is. She stops, but doesn't pull her arm away from him.
"Rachel," he says quietly. He doesn't think he's ever said her name like that before. He doesn't hate it. Or the way she looks up at him and her eyes are all soft, like she's fighting telling him what's really wrong. "Come on. You can't lie to me."
He knows it's true. Well, he doesn't know if she can lie to anyone. She can try, but it usually fails. It's he who can't lie to her, but whatever, that's not the point right now, so he's not going to bring that up.
"Jesse's back at Carmel with Vocal Adrenaline," she says quietly, looking down at the polished tile floor. "He didn't even tell me. I had to find out on one of my espionage missions."
There's a brief flash of her in like, a catsuit or something that hot ass spy from Alias would wear, but he blinks it away.
"Seriously?" She nods and looks up at him. "Fuck. That sucks."
(Not really. He's glad that fucker's gone.)
"Yes. So I'm having a difficult time right now with that, in addition to the fact that it's my mother he's working with, who he's known all along, and..."
"Wait," Puck says, furrowing his brow. "He knew she was your mom and he didn't tell you?" She nods again and he sets his jaw. "How could he do that?"
"I suppose he wasn't the boy I thought he was," she admits quietly.
His hand is a fucking traitor, and it reaches out to brush her hair out of her face. She flinches a little, startled, but he's committed now, so he doesn't pull away like the average pansy would. She blinks all cute and slow at him after he's pushed her hair behind her ear.
He'd apologize - for the Jesse shit, not for touching her - but it's not his fuck up to apologize for. He hardly ever apologizes for his own mistakes; he's not going to start apologizing for someone else's.
"So why're you lashing out at me?" he asks with a smirk, tucking both hands into his pockets. She rolls her eyes. "Don't get me wrong. You yelling at me like that was a total turn on." He smiles when she laughs, bows her head to hide her smile. "No joke. In fact, any time you wanna scream my name like that..."
"You're disgusting," she says, looking up at him again. "Puckerman."
"Yeah," he growls. "Louder, this time." She laughs hard and shoves playfully at his shoulder which moves him exactly not at all. "You okay and stuff?"
"Yes," she says, smiling like if she says it enough and pretends it's true, it eventually will be. "Thank you for caring. And...well, for even noticing."
"I notice all kinds of stuff," he insists. They start walking towards the door to head to the parking lot and he pulls his keys from his pocket.
"Do you?" she asks doubtfully. "Like what?"
She glances at him from the corner of her eye, turns her head just slightly, and he'd almost swear she's flirting if he thought she really knew how. (Thing with Rachel is she sucks you in without even having to try at all. She's just awesome all on her own without games and whatever.)
"Like the obvious sexual energy you're trying to release on me by..."
She laughs so hard her head tips back and she puts her hand on her stomach as soon as they're outside. "You really are delusional."
He slides his hand along her back, just above the top of her skirt. "Whatever you say, Rachel," he whispers in her ear. She reaches back with her hand and sets it over his, and he thinks she's just going to pry it off her body, but she actually twines their fingers together and holds his hand between them. He raises his brow. "Really?"
"Maybe you're right," she says, shrugging her shoulder. He doesn't know if she really means that, but he's going to pretend she does and hope for the best. She turns, walking backwards while still holding his hand.
Only Rachel Berry could make hand holding the sexiest fucking thing on the planet. Seriously.
"Your house?" he asks.
The both know what happens every time they're alone in her bedroom. She's practically begging for it.
(He definitely is.)
And as much as he loves the way she'd shouted his last name earlier, he really does like the way she says his first name all soft and breathy when he's kissing her neck. He smiles to himself when he whispers 'Rachel' as she rests her hands on his stomach under his shirt and she lets out a little mewl.
Totally loves it.