There's No Such Thing As The Real World
Title: There's No Such Thing As The Real World
Chapter: 1/1
Warning: NC-17. Fictable prompt #31 - Home
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: Coming to his high school reunion is just supposed to be a big Fuck You to everyone who thought he'd never amount to anything.
Word Count: 5,692
Disclaimer: Don't own.
This place is so lame he can't stand it. He doesn't know why he even bothered to come, but really, how could he not? He lives an hour away and his stupid best friend has been begging him for like, two months. So he RSVP-ed yes, bought a new shirt, and now finds himself in the gym at McKinley. It's decorated with red and white, and there are people squealing and hugging all over the place. He's seen Mr. Schue and Kurt, Tina and Artie, but so far, he's managed to keep them from seeing them. He's just loitered by the bar and moved with the crowd.
He's done well for himself. Better than anyone would have assumed, probably. He's got his own sporting goods store he opened after college, and he's making more money than anyone would think. He bought his own house a few years ago, just a few bedrooms and a nice yard. It's decorated in his taste, not his mom's (despite that woman's attempts). He's had a few girlfriends over the years, a couple serious ones, even, and yeah, he thinks he's doing pretty good for 28.
Coming to his high school reunion is just supposed to be a big Fuck You to everyone who thought he'd never amount to anything.
His eyes are on the door when he watches a petite brunette walk in wearing a red dress, and maybe things could get interesting, here. There's something familiar about the way her hair curls down her back, the curve of her hips, the muscles of her calves as she walks through the room in her heels.
Rachel Berry.
He smirks to himself and sips his scotch, watches as she gets a glass of wine from the bar and immediately gets swept away by Tina. Puck can tell her smile is fake, but he doesn't really know how. It's been 10 years since he saw her, 10 years since she left for New York and never came back. (Well, if she has, no one's known about it.) He hasn't really cared. If he'd known she got so scary hot (seriously, that woman is a fucking stunner), he probably would have kept tabs on her.
And yeah, he knows she's on Broadway or whatever, but it's not like he really cares about that or anything, so he hasn't exactly kept up with what she's been doing. Good for her and all that, but he doesn't need to know what songs she's singing and stuff.
It's not until he sees her standing alone that he decides it's about time he talk to someone.
"Well, well," he says, walking up behind her. "Look who it is."
She turns around and he swears he gets a little breathless or something. Then his pants are a little tighter, and he stops thinking about stupid things like being breathless. Her eyes are darker, her makeup looks professionally done or something, and her lips look fucking delicious.
"Noah Puckerman," she says flatly.
"Been a while."
"Ten years," she says, gesturing with her wine glass to the sign at the other end of the room. "How have you been?"
"Good," he says. He doesn't elaborate and she doesn't ask him to, which he thinks means one of two things. Either she doesn't care, or she's about to start talking about herself and whatever shit she's been up to. She does neither. "You?"
"Fine. Where's your best friend?" she asks. He raises his brow and looks down at her. "I just want to get it out of the way."
He wants to laugh, but it doesn't come out. She and Finn's breakup the summer after senior year was rough and painful for both of them, and he knows Rachel basically cut ties with all of Lima after everything went down. And yeah, basically everyone was on Finn's side, because Rachel went to New York and didn't look back, and Puck's pretty sure no one called her anyway. He would have, but it wasn't like they were ever friends.
"His wife's probably taking a while to get ready," he says, just to be a dick and see what her reaction is. She drains what's left of her wine and sets the glass on the table next to them.
"How long does it take to put on a cheerleading uniform and pull your hair into a ponytail?" she asks.
He laughs quietly and raises his brow. "Your bitter is showing."
"I didn't even want to come to this stupid thing," she hisses, standing right in front of him, fire in her eyes as she stares at him. "Daddy told me I'd regret it. Do you know how many shows I had to take off? I had to give my spot to my understudy, and she's...she's a backstabbing bitch. I swear, if I lose my role for this? There will be hell to pay."
She just cursed twice in one speech, and chewed him out without chewing him out. It's kind of nice to see that she's still able to go on one of those crazy rants without ever being asked.
"You're kinda hot when you're pissed," he tells her, and he trails one finger down her arm. All she does is raise her eyes to meet his again and shake her head like he amuses her or something.
The new Rachel is fun.
And he's going to have fun with her.
... ... ...
She's two glasses of wine into the evening and she's laughing her ass off in pretty much the most adorable way ever when Finn and Santana walk into the room. Puck glances over his shoulder to see what she's staring at, and rolls his eyes.
They've been having a good time. She told him about her big break on Broadway, how she was an understudy and kind of maybe accidentally might have slipped and, clumsy her, dropped ipecac into the lead's tea before the show. She's fucking crazy, for sure, but really, he would have been disappointed if she hadn't done something like that. And he's told her about his store and she seems genuinely happy for him, which he thinks is pretty nice of her. She's living some crazy life in New York, and she's still impressed when he tells her he sells more hockey equipment than any store in the area.
"It's been 10 years," he reminds her. "What're you so fuckin' tense about?"
"I'm not tense. I'm just...Okay, have you ever had to watch an ex with their new significant other?" she asks.
"Q got married a couple years ago. I went to the wedding."
"She married Matt. That doesn't count," Rachel spits. He laughs and she lets out a huff.
"And how come you know all about us but no one knows shit about you?" he asks, leaning his elbow on the table so he's a little closer to her.
She meets his eyes and gnaws at her bottom lip. He thinks he catches a glimpse of the 16 year old girl who used to get insecure from time to time and did a shit job of hiding it.
"I asked. I'm sure no one asks about me," she says quietly.
He shrugs one shoulder and takes a sip of his drink. "Fuck 'em."
She laughs again and smiles a little. "Is that your response to everything?"
"When it fits."
She picks up her glass and hands him his. "Would you like to get some air? I need some air."
"Hang on. I think I can get us a bottle," he says, heading for the bar. She keeps up with him somehow, trotting along on her heels.
"Are you trying to get me drunk, Noah?" she asks.
He knows flirting when he sees it.
He looks over at her and raises his brow. "Depends. Is there something in it for me?"
She tips her head back and laughs. He seriously wonders if that's a yes.
... ... ...
They find themselves on the bleachers with a bottle of whiskey he managed to sweet talk away from the cute bartender. Actually, he probably would have spent his whole night flirting with her and probably banging her in the locker room or something. Whatever.
Plans change.
Now he's sitting next to Rachel, and she's got her shoes off. She's got her arm looped through his, which he thinks is kind of fucked up, but also kind of nice. He's rolled up the sleeves of his button down shirt, and this reunion is already a lot better than he thought it'd be.
Maybe that's 'cause he hasn't talked to anyone but Rachel. That probably has a lot to do with it.
"I don't want to get drunk," Rachel says, wiping her lip a little bit after taking a little sip from the bottle. "The last thing I need are photographs of me drunk with some gorgeous old flame."
He laughs a little and smirks at her. "Gorgeous, huh?"
"Shut up, you know you're hot."
He takes a deep breath. "Yeah," he says on the exhale.
"Noah!" she giggles. He laughs again and seriously, was she always this fun? "Okay, okay. I'm cut off. Do not let me drink any more."
She makes him tell her about his family, and she tells him stories about her dads and how they've always come to visit her in New York instead of her coming home. Apparently they've gotten suites in all the best New York hotels and spent their holidays there, and they've been at the opening nights of all her shows. He asks why they don't just move. Rachel just says they'll never leave Lima, and he doesn't ask anything more than that.
"Do you miss living here?" she asks. He's had enough to drink and they've talked enough that he feels like he can be honest.
"Not really. I'm here every weekend for dinner with mom and Hannah," he admits. No one knows that. Not even Finn. "I like not being the guy who used to be a fuck up." She nods. He watches her hair move. "You?"
She shakes her head rapidly. "I didn't want to come back. I like not being the loser with all the crazy ambition."
He laughs softly, takes a drink from the bottle and bumps her shoulder with his. "Showed them, Rach."
She turns her head to look at him. "Fuck 'em, right?"
"Exactly," he chuckles. Fuck, she's changed. In like, a really, really good way. She's fun, and funny, and cute, and hot as fuck, and all he can do is watch her when she takes the bottle from him again and takes a drink. "You're kind of a handsy drunk, you know?" he says, looking down at her hand where it's sitting on his thigh. "I knew this was a good idea."
She moves her hand a little higher, and he thinks he's going to fuck her right here if she doesn't stop.
"Let's go see Finn," she says quietly.
She sets her hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she slips her feet back into her shoes.
(She only stood up and said that because she was totally going to kiss him if they sat there any longer.)
... ... ...
"Hey! Have you been here this whole time?" Finn asks Puck, pulling him into a hug. Santana looks bored (but hot) in her black dress.
"Yeah. Found someone," Puck says, smirking as he watches Rachel talking to Mr. Schue. He just had to convince her it was okay to talk to the guy even though she'd had a couple (many) drinks.
"Is that..."
"Rachel," Santana says, rolling her eyes. "Great."
"Calm down, San, you married him," Puck says seriously. That chick is more possessive than any dude he's ever met. He's surprised she doesn't have Finn on a leash half the time. Then again, the only two women she really gets pissy about are Quinn and Rachel.
"You're such an asshole, Puck." He leans over and kisses her on the forehead. Finn just laughs. "Why'd she even come?"
"Well, it's her reunion, too," Finn says before sipping his beer. Oddly enough, Finn's the only one who can get away with saying stuff like that to Santana without her losing her shit. Probably why they're married or whatever. "Were you talking to her?"
Puck shrugs his shoulder. "A bit."
"A bit like you said hello? Or a bit like you fucked her in an empty hallway?" Santana asks, biting back a smile.
Puck laughs as he watches Rachel walk towards them. "Somewhere in the middle."
He stands there and listens to her make small talk with her ex-boyfriend and...Santana. Eventually, Quinn comes over and says hello. Matt is on some trip to L.A., some business deal about buying something, and fuck, Puck doesn't really listen to that. Matt does mergers and acquisitions for some fucking massive company in Chicago. Pretty crazy, but it keeps he and Quinn in their huge house, so whatever.
After a while, Puck can see that Rachel is losing patience. Finn is trying really hard to be overly nice, and Santana really, really isn't. Quinn is playing peacemaker (wtf?) and Puck is...well, he's watching Rachel, mostly. When Quinn leaves to go talk to Mercedes, Santana stands right in front of Finn and starts talking all softly and stuff, and Puck sees enough of that on a regular basis; he doesn't need to see it now.
He leans over, cups his hand around Rachel's elbow, and speaks into her ear. "Wanna get out of here?"
She nods, and he winks as he pulls away. They're not touching at all, but he's totally checking her out as she walks in front of him.
Once they're in the hall, he follows her around the corner and away from the main entrance. It's a relatively quiet spot, and she leans back against the concrete wall.
He figures this is as good a time as any to kiss her.
He slips a hand into her hair, lets the other brace him against the wall next to her hip, and she squeaks a little in surprise before she lets herself relax and kiss him back. And as soon as she does, he leans into her a little more. She presses her hips forward, so he slides his hand around her back to hold her to him.
"Noah," she whispers as he sips at her lips. He moans in response. "Noah, this is..."
He takes advantage of the fact that she's talking to slip his tongue into her mouth, and she moans as she grabs the front of his shirt.
"So fucking hot," he says between kisses. "You know that? You're fucking beautiful."
"We can't do this."
It'd be way easier to believe if her hand wasn't threading through his hair and she wasn't arching her back when his hand grazes her breast.
"You got a boyfriend?" he asks, pulling away to look at her. He realizes, strangely, that it's the one thing they haven't touched on. She shakes her head and licks her bottom lip. "Fair game, baby."
"It's a game?" she asks, almost laughing before his lips are on her neck.
"Sure," he says gruffly. "See if we can fuck one another into oblivion before the night's over."
She moans and goes pliant in his arms. "Shh," she says, though she just definitely made the loudest noise to come from either of them. "Someone will hear. We can't stay here."
He smirks triumphantly, because this is so happening, and her momentary insanity and resistance has completely disappeared.
"No. I remember how loud you can be. Trust me," he says, laughing when her jaw drops and she hits his chest.
He just kisses her again to stop her from talking about how he shouldn't say things like that or whatever the fuck. (Honestly, chick used to be loud just talking, and from what he heard from Kurt, who lived across the hall from Finn, Rachel wasn't exactly quiet during sex. Why the fuck is he thinking about her with his best friend right now?) She tugs at his collar to keep him close, and she moves her leg so her knee is brushing the inside of his and her thigh is pressed up against the front of his pants. That should just not be allowed. He doesn't know when this became about her teasing him, but he's used to things being the other way around.
"I have a hotel room."
He smirks, kisses her again. "Can we walk?"
She laughs and pulls her phone out of her little purse and keys in a message. "I have a driver," she explains.
"Of course you do." He presses her against the wall again, and he's fucking dying to get her legs wrapped around him. "Condoms?"
"Noah Puckerman didn't bring condoms to his high school reunion?" she asks laughingly.
It's not that funny.
"Yeah, but we're gonna need more than two, Rachel," he says, thumb grazing the skin below her ear.
She tips her head back and closes her eyes. "I love the way you say my name," she breathes out.
He leans forward so he's pressed tight against her and she can feel how fucking hard he is. His lips are right against the shell of her ear and she's clutching his shirt in her fists at his side.
"Good," he whispers, and gives her a moment to contemplate all that that implies.
... ... ...
His hand slips under her dress as they sit in the back of the car, and she glances up towards the driver. He's hidden behind a pane of tinted glass, but the last thing she needs is an indiscretion showing up on some gossip website. At least that's what she tells Puck. He reminds her that this small town limo driver probably has no clue who she is and is just happy to have work for the night.
And with his fingertips brushing the inside of her thigh, he's pretty determined to make it as difficult as possible for her to concentrate on anything other than him.
"I'm gonna make this so good for you," he says, lips teasing her neck. She takes an unsteady breath and grabs onto his shirt. "So good."
"Noah, please," she says.
"What?" he asks. He can't tell if she wants him to keep going, or stop. He keeps going. His fingers graze the front of her panties and she parts her legs for him. "I want you ready when we get there. I want you dripping, so when I get you naked, I can just fuck you like we both want."
She laughs breathlessly, opens her eyes and looks at him, his fingers are moving in slow circles over her panties. She's ready now, he can tell, but telling her all that is hot as shit.
"You're disgusting," she says, cheeks pink and hair falling onto her forehead as her head lays back against the seat. "You should not be this sexy."
He smiles and leans in to kiss the corner of her mouth. "It's sexy 'cause you want it," he says, and he means it, too. "And I'm gonna give it to you."
Why not, right? He set himself up perfectly for that.
He runs his pinky along the elastic at the leg of her panties, and this would be so much easier if she just wasn't wearing them. He slips his little finger beneath the fabric to meet her hot, wet skin, and she sucks in a breath and presses her face into his arm as it lays over the seat behind her.
"Take them off, baby," he murmurs into her hair.
She tenses, so he runs his finger over her clit and she seems to stop resisting. She pushes his hand away, then slips her hands under her dress and tugs her panties down her legs, carefully removing them over her shoes. She tosses them onto his lap, which he thinks is fucking awesome. He tucks them into his pocket.
Souvenir.
She shifts a little so her lower half is angled towards him and one leg is over his lap, the other on the floor. He can't see under the skirt of her dress, but fuck, he really wants to. Soon enough, he tells himself, soon enough. Right now, he has to focus on getting Rachel off before they get to the hotel.
No one can say he isn't goal-oriented.
"Keep talking," she says as his hand ghosts over the inside of her knee and upward.
It's probably not anything he'll ever need to call upon after tonight, but he files that little bit of info away in the back of his mind.
Rachel loves dirty talk.
He breaks out some of his best stuff. He doesn't have much time (Lima is a small town with only two hotels and no traffic; he's gotta work fast) so he tells her some absolutely filthy stuff as he works his hand under her dress. She begs him to kiss her, so he does that, too. He fucking loves the way she rests her palm on his arm, his free hand resting on her hip. When he tells her he plans on fucking her until she's begging him to stop, her leg jerks and she moans loudly.
"C'mon, baby," he urges, moving his fingers inside her and his thumb over her clit. "Come for me, Rachel."
That's all it seems to take, and she's arching her back a little, her fingers digging into his arm as she spasms around his fingers and calls out his name. Her eyes are closed, but he's smirking smugly anyway. Pretty sure that lasted only a matter of minutes before he had her falling apart, and that has to be some kind of record. But shit, she's all wet and hot and fucking ready for him, just like he wanted.
"Jesus," she breathes out as the car comes to a stop. "That was..."
She doesn't finish her thought, and he leans over to kiss her, patting the outside of her thigh. He pulls his hand from under her dress and locks eyes with her as he slips his fingers into his mouth. The way she bites her lip makes him even harder, and then she's grabbing his hand and the door is opening and she's tugging him inside the hotel towards the elevators.
The doors close and they're alone, so he pulls her back against him, grinding himself into her ass, and he licks the shell of her ear as he speaks.
"That was nothing, Rachel."
... ... ...
She's sleeping naked next to him when his phone rings sometime after midnight.
He means to ignore the call, but he answers by accident. It's just Finn, so he could probably just hang up and the dude would just think there's something wrong with his phone or whatever, but instead he runs his fingers down Rachel's spine and mumbles a hello.
"Where'd you take off to?"
Puck rolls his eyes. "You notice who else is missing?"
Finn sighs on the other end of the line. "You slept with Rachel."
"What's it to you?" Puck asks. He stills his hand when Rachel takes a breath and stirs a little.
"She's my ex."
"You're married to my ex."
"Not the same," Finn says, practically pouting. Puck doesn't get that logic. Not that he cares who or what Santana does, but still.
Rachel's eyes open and she looks over at him, blinking slowly as she smiles.
Shit. She's so fucking gorgeous.
"Gotta go," Puck says before snapping his phone shut and tossing it back onto the bedside table. He sinks back into the bed and lays his hand over the small of her back. "Hey."
"Who was that?" she asks, stretching a little. She reaches up and runs her thumb along his bottom lip. "No. I don't care."
"Good," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss her. She rolls onto her side and tangles their legs together. "When do you leave?"
She pulls back, raises her brow and props her head up on her hand. "Looking for a getaway?"
He looks at her like she's crazy. Not even an hour ago she gave him one of the best orgasms of his life. She's flexible and vocal and tighter than any woman he's been with since he was like, 16. She told him what she wanted, and let him know she appreciated it when he did what she asked for. When she nibbled his earlobe and told him she wanted to ride him, he was pretty sure he'd met his match. And when they came together? Fucking intense.
So no, he's not looking for a getaway. He's looking for a repeat.
He supposes he could tell her all that. What he does instead is grab her hand and pull it down between them so she can feel properly (none of this 'against the hip' shit) how hard he is again. She laughs softly, bites her lip, and without him telling her to, she wraps her hand around him.
"Yeah," he manages, leaning his forehead against hers. "Fuck, yes." He reaches down and slips his hand between her legs, which stops up her rhythm for a second before she continues. "Best reunion ever."
He's talking about them, not that other one.
... ... ...
They're sitting on the floor, his back to against the wall and her between his legs. Don't ask. It just...happened. She's running her hand up and down his calf, and he's gently, pointlessly, playing with her tits, 'cause they're right there and she's not stopping him.
"We shoulda done this in high school."
She laughs. "Before, after, or during the two and a half years I was your best friend's girlfriend?" she asks, tipping her head back. He kisses her cheek.
"If I'd know how fucking good you are, I probably would have just gone for it," he says, and she laughs and shakes her head. "What? It's not like I had any morals at the time."
"You did," she says quietly. "They were just...hidden."
His buzz wore off well over an hour ago, and he knows she's totally sober, too. He thinks it's pretty awesome that she's still obviously into this. (Evidenced by her moan when he flits his thumb over her nipple.)
"We should sleep," she says. He tightens his hold on her and brushes his lips across the back of her shoulder towards her neck.
"Naw. This is better."
"Well, yes, but..." She stops talking and takes a deep breath. "Noah, I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon."
He slides his hand under her thighs and picks her up as he stands, then he walks over and sets her down on the bed. She's smiling at him, but her eyes are pleading, and he knows she thinks they're getting into something they both know can only mean trouble. He doesn't care. They knew the second he kissed her that there was only one night (to be honest, he was hoping for a couple, but he'll take what he can get).
"That just means I only have one night to convince you I'm the best you've ever had," he says, settling himself between her thighs. She closes her eyes and smiles like she doesn't really want to let him. (But yeah, she does.)
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she says, laughing quietly. He kisses her neck and bends her leg so he's pressed right against her. "But it's so, so good."
"Told you it would be." He smirks smugly and she takes his chin in her hand and kisses him hard.
"I'm going to be so sore tomorrow," she says. He presses himself against her center and fuck, where'd he put those condoms they got from the front desk? (Hell yeah. He wasn't too shy to call and ask.)
"Good sore," he insists, and fuck it. He needs to know what she feels like with no barrier. When he pushes into her, she groans and her nails dig in to the small of his back. "Holy fuck, Rachel."
"Noah, this is...we can't..."
"I know. I know." He pulls out after another couple slow strokes, and she hands him a condom. "I want you so bad."
"Me too."
"Yeah?" he asks needlessly as he tears open the wrapper.
She nods and kisses him, but he knows she doesn't realize that he really wishes she lived in the area. It's really, really fucked up, but he thinks he might actually miss her when she leaves.
... ... ...
She showers in the morning after waking him up with her hand wrapped around him (best wake up call ever) and it's like he's just not moving out of protest or something, because he's just laying there in the bed, watching as she gathers her things. Her hair is in a braid and she's wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a loose black sweater. She looks amazing, even if she is visibly exhausted. That tends to happen when you spend almost your whole night fucking.
"Time does your flight leave?" he asks, adjusting the pillow beneath his head. He knows she's been in town three days, spent time with her fathers and all that before the reunion.
"2:00," she replies automatically. "I'm having brunch with my dads and then they're going to drive me to the airport. Am I forgetting something? I feel like I'm forgetting something."
He laughs and crooks his finger when she looks over at him, and she shakes her head like she doesn't have time to mess around. She walks toward him anyway.
"Wish I could fuck you one more time before you go," he says. She leans down to kiss him and runs her thumb over his cheek. And yeah, that's probably as close to 'I'll miss you' as she's going to get from him.
"I really have to go," she says regrettably. "But this...This was amazing." He grins proudly and wiggles his brow. "I haven't had this much fun in ages."
"Yeah." He slides his hand around the back of her neck and pulls her toward him again.
She pulls away, stands and pushes up her sleeves. "I really..."
"Have to go. I know." Every time she says it, it starts to suck a little more. Especially when she bends over to pick up her bag and he gets a view of her ass.
"Check out isn't until noon. You can just let yourself out," she instructs him. She hitches her bag over her shoulder and pulls up the handle of her rolling suitcase. He looks at her expectantly, so she walks over and kisses him one last time. "Thank you. It was wonderful seeing you again."
"You too," he says. If the sheet that's been covering him accidentally falls away and she can see all of him? Totally not his fault.
He doesn't know what to say and he can tell she doesn't, either. She just grabs onto her suitcase and starts towards the door, and he watches her go. She turns before she gets there and smiles at him.
"If you're ever in New York..." She leaves it open ended, and he winks at her.
They both know he'll likely never go to New York. It was nice of her to say it anyway.
... ... ...
He pulls on his pants and zips them at quarter to twelve, and when he's got his shirt on and partially buttoned, he grabs his phone and tries to tuck it into his pocket. He smirks when he feels the fabric in there, then remembers the night before, pocketing her panties after she took them off.
He's smirking as he heads for the elevator.
If she ever comes back to Ohio, he might consider giving them back. If she asks nicely.
Chapter: 1/1
Warning: NC-17. Fictable prompt #31 - Home
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: Coming to his high school reunion is just supposed to be a big Fuck You to everyone who thought he'd never amount to anything.
Word Count: 5,692
Disclaimer: Don't own.
This place is so lame he can't stand it. He doesn't know why he even bothered to come, but really, how could he not? He lives an hour away and his stupid best friend has been begging him for like, two months. So he RSVP-ed yes, bought a new shirt, and now finds himself in the gym at McKinley. It's decorated with red and white, and there are people squealing and hugging all over the place. He's seen Mr. Schue and Kurt, Tina and Artie, but so far, he's managed to keep them from seeing them. He's just loitered by the bar and moved with the crowd.
He's done well for himself. Better than anyone would have assumed, probably. He's got his own sporting goods store he opened after college, and he's making more money than anyone would think. He bought his own house a few years ago, just a few bedrooms and a nice yard. It's decorated in his taste, not his mom's (despite that woman's attempts). He's had a few girlfriends over the years, a couple serious ones, even, and yeah, he thinks he's doing pretty good for 28.
Coming to his high school reunion is just supposed to be a big Fuck You to everyone who thought he'd never amount to anything.
His eyes are on the door when he watches a petite brunette walk in wearing a red dress, and maybe things could get interesting, here. There's something familiar about the way her hair curls down her back, the curve of her hips, the muscles of her calves as she walks through the room in her heels.
Rachel Berry.
He smirks to himself and sips his scotch, watches as she gets a glass of wine from the bar and immediately gets swept away by Tina. Puck can tell her smile is fake, but he doesn't really know how. It's been 10 years since he saw her, 10 years since she left for New York and never came back. (Well, if she has, no one's known about it.) He hasn't really cared. If he'd known she got so scary hot (seriously, that woman is a fucking stunner), he probably would have kept tabs on her.
And yeah, he knows she's on Broadway or whatever, but it's not like he really cares about that or anything, so he hasn't exactly kept up with what she's been doing. Good for her and all that, but he doesn't need to know what songs she's singing and stuff.
It's not until he sees her standing alone that he decides it's about time he talk to someone.
"Well, well," he says, walking up behind her. "Look who it is."
She turns around and he swears he gets a little breathless or something. Then his pants are a little tighter, and he stops thinking about stupid things like being breathless. Her eyes are darker, her makeup looks professionally done or something, and her lips look fucking delicious.
"Noah Puckerman," she says flatly.
"Been a while."
"Ten years," she says, gesturing with her wine glass to the sign at the other end of the room. "How have you been?"
"Good," he says. He doesn't elaborate and she doesn't ask him to, which he thinks means one of two things. Either she doesn't care, or she's about to start talking about herself and whatever shit she's been up to. She does neither. "You?"
"Fine. Where's your best friend?" she asks. He raises his brow and looks down at her. "I just want to get it out of the way."
He wants to laugh, but it doesn't come out. She and Finn's breakup the summer after senior year was rough and painful for both of them, and he knows Rachel basically cut ties with all of Lima after everything went down. And yeah, basically everyone was on Finn's side, because Rachel went to New York and didn't look back, and Puck's pretty sure no one called her anyway. He would have, but it wasn't like they were ever friends.
"His wife's probably taking a while to get ready," he says, just to be a dick and see what her reaction is. She drains what's left of her wine and sets the glass on the table next to them.
"How long does it take to put on a cheerleading uniform and pull your hair into a ponytail?" she asks.
He laughs quietly and raises his brow. "Your bitter is showing."
"I didn't even want to come to this stupid thing," she hisses, standing right in front of him, fire in her eyes as she stares at him. "Daddy told me I'd regret it. Do you know how many shows I had to take off? I had to give my spot to my understudy, and she's...she's a backstabbing bitch. I swear, if I lose my role for this? There will be hell to pay."
She just cursed twice in one speech, and chewed him out without chewing him out. It's kind of nice to see that she's still able to go on one of those crazy rants without ever being asked.
"You're kinda hot when you're pissed," he tells her, and he trails one finger down her arm. All she does is raise her eyes to meet his again and shake her head like he amuses her or something.
The new Rachel is fun.
And he's going to have fun with her.
... ... ...
She's two glasses of wine into the evening and she's laughing her ass off in pretty much the most adorable way ever when Finn and Santana walk into the room. Puck glances over his shoulder to see what she's staring at, and rolls his eyes.
They've been having a good time. She told him about her big break on Broadway, how she was an understudy and kind of maybe accidentally might have slipped and, clumsy her, dropped ipecac into the lead's tea before the show. She's fucking crazy, for sure, but really, he would have been disappointed if she hadn't done something like that. And he's told her about his store and she seems genuinely happy for him, which he thinks is pretty nice of her. She's living some crazy life in New York, and she's still impressed when he tells her he sells more hockey equipment than any store in the area.
"It's been 10 years," he reminds her. "What're you so fuckin' tense about?"
"I'm not tense. I'm just...Okay, have you ever had to watch an ex with their new significant other?" she asks.
"Q got married a couple years ago. I went to the wedding."
"She married Matt. That doesn't count," Rachel spits. He laughs and she lets out a huff.
"And how come you know all about us but no one knows shit about you?" he asks, leaning his elbow on the table so he's a little closer to her.
She meets his eyes and gnaws at her bottom lip. He thinks he catches a glimpse of the 16 year old girl who used to get insecure from time to time and did a shit job of hiding it.
"I asked. I'm sure no one asks about me," she says quietly.
He shrugs one shoulder and takes a sip of his drink. "Fuck 'em."
She laughs again and smiles a little. "Is that your response to everything?"
"When it fits."
She picks up her glass and hands him his. "Would you like to get some air? I need some air."
"Hang on. I think I can get us a bottle," he says, heading for the bar. She keeps up with him somehow, trotting along on her heels.
"Are you trying to get me drunk, Noah?" she asks.
He knows flirting when he sees it.
He looks over at her and raises his brow. "Depends. Is there something in it for me?"
She tips her head back and laughs. He seriously wonders if that's a yes.
... ... ...
They find themselves on the bleachers with a bottle of whiskey he managed to sweet talk away from the cute bartender. Actually, he probably would have spent his whole night flirting with her and probably banging her in the locker room or something. Whatever.
Plans change.
Now he's sitting next to Rachel, and she's got her shoes off. She's got her arm looped through his, which he thinks is kind of fucked up, but also kind of nice. He's rolled up the sleeves of his button down shirt, and this reunion is already a lot better than he thought it'd be.
Maybe that's 'cause he hasn't talked to anyone but Rachel. That probably has a lot to do with it.
"I don't want to get drunk," Rachel says, wiping her lip a little bit after taking a little sip from the bottle. "The last thing I need are photographs of me drunk with some gorgeous old flame."
He laughs a little and smirks at her. "Gorgeous, huh?"
"Shut up, you know you're hot."
He takes a deep breath. "Yeah," he says on the exhale.
"Noah!" she giggles. He laughs again and seriously, was she always this fun? "Okay, okay. I'm cut off. Do not let me drink any more."
She makes him tell her about his family, and she tells him stories about her dads and how they've always come to visit her in New York instead of her coming home. Apparently they've gotten suites in all the best New York hotels and spent their holidays there, and they've been at the opening nights of all her shows. He asks why they don't just move. Rachel just says they'll never leave Lima, and he doesn't ask anything more than that.
"Do you miss living here?" she asks. He's had enough to drink and they've talked enough that he feels like he can be honest.
"Not really. I'm here every weekend for dinner with mom and Hannah," he admits. No one knows that. Not even Finn. "I like not being the guy who used to be a fuck up." She nods. He watches her hair move. "You?"
She shakes her head rapidly. "I didn't want to come back. I like not being the loser with all the crazy ambition."
He laughs softly, takes a drink from the bottle and bumps her shoulder with his. "Showed them, Rach."
She turns her head to look at him. "Fuck 'em, right?"
"Exactly," he chuckles. Fuck, she's changed. In like, a really, really good way. She's fun, and funny, and cute, and hot as fuck, and all he can do is watch her when she takes the bottle from him again and takes a drink. "You're kind of a handsy drunk, you know?" he says, looking down at her hand where it's sitting on his thigh. "I knew this was a good idea."
She moves her hand a little higher, and he thinks he's going to fuck her right here if she doesn't stop.
"Let's go see Finn," she says quietly.
She sets her hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she slips her feet back into her shoes.
(She only stood up and said that because she was totally going to kiss him if they sat there any longer.)
... ... ...
"Hey! Have you been here this whole time?" Finn asks Puck, pulling him into a hug. Santana looks bored (but hot) in her black dress.
"Yeah. Found someone," Puck says, smirking as he watches Rachel talking to Mr. Schue. He just had to convince her it was okay to talk to the guy even though she'd had a couple (many) drinks.
"Is that..."
"Rachel," Santana says, rolling her eyes. "Great."
"Calm down, San, you married him," Puck says seriously. That chick is more possessive than any dude he's ever met. He's surprised she doesn't have Finn on a leash half the time. Then again, the only two women she really gets pissy about are Quinn and Rachel.
"You're such an asshole, Puck." He leans over and kisses her on the forehead. Finn just laughs. "Why'd she even come?"
"Well, it's her reunion, too," Finn says before sipping his beer. Oddly enough, Finn's the only one who can get away with saying stuff like that to Santana without her losing her shit. Probably why they're married or whatever. "Were you talking to her?"
Puck shrugs his shoulder. "A bit."
"A bit like you said hello? Or a bit like you fucked her in an empty hallway?" Santana asks, biting back a smile.
Puck laughs as he watches Rachel walk towards them. "Somewhere in the middle."
He stands there and listens to her make small talk with her ex-boyfriend and...Santana. Eventually, Quinn comes over and says hello. Matt is on some trip to L.A., some business deal about buying something, and fuck, Puck doesn't really listen to that. Matt does mergers and acquisitions for some fucking massive company in Chicago. Pretty crazy, but it keeps he and Quinn in their huge house, so whatever.
After a while, Puck can see that Rachel is losing patience. Finn is trying really hard to be overly nice, and Santana really, really isn't. Quinn is playing peacemaker (wtf?) and Puck is...well, he's watching Rachel, mostly. When Quinn leaves to go talk to Mercedes, Santana stands right in front of Finn and starts talking all softly and stuff, and Puck sees enough of that on a regular basis; he doesn't need to see it now.
He leans over, cups his hand around Rachel's elbow, and speaks into her ear. "Wanna get out of here?"
She nods, and he winks as he pulls away. They're not touching at all, but he's totally checking her out as she walks in front of him.
Once they're in the hall, he follows her around the corner and away from the main entrance. It's a relatively quiet spot, and she leans back against the concrete wall.
He figures this is as good a time as any to kiss her.
He slips a hand into her hair, lets the other brace him against the wall next to her hip, and she squeaks a little in surprise before she lets herself relax and kiss him back. And as soon as she does, he leans into her a little more. She presses her hips forward, so he slides his hand around her back to hold her to him.
"Noah," she whispers as he sips at her lips. He moans in response. "Noah, this is..."
He takes advantage of the fact that she's talking to slip his tongue into her mouth, and she moans as she grabs the front of his shirt.
"So fucking hot," he says between kisses. "You know that? You're fucking beautiful."
"We can't do this."
It'd be way easier to believe if her hand wasn't threading through his hair and she wasn't arching her back when his hand grazes her breast.
"You got a boyfriend?" he asks, pulling away to look at her. He realizes, strangely, that it's the one thing they haven't touched on. She shakes her head and licks her bottom lip. "Fair game, baby."
"It's a game?" she asks, almost laughing before his lips are on her neck.
"Sure," he says gruffly. "See if we can fuck one another into oblivion before the night's over."
She moans and goes pliant in his arms. "Shh," she says, though she just definitely made the loudest noise to come from either of them. "Someone will hear. We can't stay here."
He smirks triumphantly, because this is so happening, and her momentary insanity and resistance has completely disappeared.
"No. I remember how loud you can be. Trust me," he says, laughing when her jaw drops and she hits his chest.
He just kisses her again to stop her from talking about how he shouldn't say things like that or whatever the fuck. (Honestly, chick used to be loud just talking, and from what he heard from Kurt, who lived across the hall from Finn, Rachel wasn't exactly quiet during sex. Why the fuck is he thinking about her with his best friend right now?) She tugs at his collar to keep him close, and she moves her leg so her knee is brushing the inside of his and her thigh is pressed up against the front of his pants. That should just not be allowed. He doesn't know when this became about her teasing him, but he's used to things being the other way around.
"I have a hotel room."
He smirks, kisses her again. "Can we walk?"
She laughs and pulls her phone out of her little purse and keys in a message. "I have a driver," she explains.
"Of course you do." He presses her against the wall again, and he's fucking dying to get her legs wrapped around him. "Condoms?"
"Noah Puckerman didn't bring condoms to his high school reunion?" she asks laughingly.
It's not that funny.
"Yeah, but we're gonna need more than two, Rachel," he says, thumb grazing the skin below her ear.
She tips her head back and closes her eyes. "I love the way you say my name," she breathes out.
He leans forward so he's pressed tight against her and she can feel how fucking hard he is. His lips are right against the shell of her ear and she's clutching his shirt in her fists at his side.
"Good," he whispers, and gives her a moment to contemplate all that that implies.
... ... ...
His hand slips under her dress as they sit in the back of the car, and she glances up towards the driver. He's hidden behind a pane of tinted glass, but the last thing she needs is an indiscretion showing up on some gossip website. At least that's what she tells Puck. He reminds her that this small town limo driver probably has no clue who she is and is just happy to have work for the night.
And with his fingertips brushing the inside of her thigh, he's pretty determined to make it as difficult as possible for her to concentrate on anything other than him.
"I'm gonna make this so good for you," he says, lips teasing her neck. She takes an unsteady breath and grabs onto his shirt. "So good."
"Noah, please," she says.
"What?" he asks. He can't tell if she wants him to keep going, or stop. He keeps going. His fingers graze the front of her panties and she parts her legs for him. "I want you ready when we get there. I want you dripping, so when I get you naked, I can just fuck you like we both want."
She laughs breathlessly, opens her eyes and looks at him, his fingers are moving in slow circles over her panties. She's ready now, he can tell, but telling her all that is hot as shit.
"You're disgusting," she says, cheeks pink and hair falling onto her forehead as her head lays back against the seat. "You should not be this sexy."
He smiles and leans in to kiss the corner of her mouth. "It's sexy 'cause you want it," he says, and he means it, too. "And I'm gonna give it to you."
Why not, right? He set himself up perfectly for that.
He runs his pinky along the elastic at the leg of her panties, and this would be so much easier if she just wasn't wearing them. He slips his little finger beneath the fabric to meet her hot, wet skin, and she sucks in a breath and presses her face into his arm as it lays over the seat behind her.
"Take them off, baby," he murmurs into her hair.
She tenses, so he runs his finger over her clit and she seems to stop resisting. She pushes his hand away, then slips her hands under her dress and tugs her panties down her legs, carefully removing them over her shoes. She tosses them onto his lap, which he thinks is fucking awesome. He tucks them into his pocket.
Souvenir.
She shifts a little so her lower half is angled towards him and one leg is over his lap, the other on the floor. He can't see under the skirt of her dress, but fuck, he really wants to. Soon enough, he tells himself, soon enough. Right now, he has to focus on getting Rachel off before they get to the hotel.
No one can say he isn't goal-oriented.
"Keep talking," she says as his hand ghosts over the inside of her knee and upward.
It's probably not anything he'll ever need to call upon after tonight, but he files that little bit of info away in the back of his mind.
Rachel loves dirty talk.
He breaks out some of his best stuff. He doesn't have much time (Lima is a small town with only two hotels and no traffic; he's gotta work fast) so he tells her some absolutely filthy stuff as he works his hand under her dress. She begs him to kiss her, so he does that, too. He fucking loves the way she rests her palm on his arm, his free hand resting on her hip. When he tells her he plans on fucking her until she's begging him to stop, her leg jerks and she moans loudly.
"C'mon, baby," he urges, moving his fingers inside her and his thumb over her clit. "Come for me, Rachel."
That's all it seems to take, and she's arching her back a little, her fingers digging into his arm as she spasms around his fingers and calls out his name. Her eyes are closed, but he's smirking smugly anyway. Pretty sure that lasted only a matter of minutes before he had her falling apart, and that has to be some kind of record. But shit, she's all wet and hot and fucking ready for him, just like he wanted.
"Jesus," she breathes out as the car comes to a stop. "That was..."
She doesn't finish her thought, and he leans over to kiss her, patting the outside of her thigh. He pulls his hand from under her dress and locks eyes with her as he slips his fingers into his mouth. The way she bites her lip makes him even harder, and then she's grabbing his hand and the door is opening and she's tugging him inside the hotel towards the elevators.
The doors close and they're alone, so he pulls her back against him, grinding himself into her ass, and he licks the shell of her ear as he speaks.
"That was nothing, Rachel."
... ... ...
She's sleeping naked next to him when his phone rings sometime after midnight.
He means to ignore the call, but he answers by accident. It's just Finn, so he could probably just hang up and the dude would just think there's something wrong with his phone or whatever, but instead he runs his fingers down Rachel's spine and mumbles a hello.
"Where'd you take off to?"
Puck rolls his eyes. "You notice who else is missing?"
Finn sighs on the other end of the line. "You slept with Rachel."
"What's it to you?" Puck asks. He stills his hand when Rachel takes a breath and stirs a little.
"She's my ex."
"You're married to my ex."
"Not the same," Finn says, practically pouting. Puck doesn't get that logic. Not that he cares who or what Santana does, but still.
Rachel's eyes open and she looks over at him, blinking slowly as she smiles.
Shit. She's so fucking gorgeous.
"Gotta go," Puck says before snapping his phone shut and tossing it back onto the bedside table. He sinks back into the bed and lays his hand over the small of her back. "Hey."
"Who was that?" she asks, stretching a little. She reaches up and runs her thumb along his bottom lip. "No. I don't care."
"Good," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss her. She rolls onto her side and tangles their legs together. "When do you leave?"
She pulls back, raises her brow and props her head up on her hand. "Looking for a getaway?"
He looks at her like she's crazy. Not even an hour ago she gave him one of the best orgasms of his life. She's flexible and vocal and tighter than any woman he's been with since he was like, 16. She told him what she wanted, and let him know she appreciated it when he did what she asked for. When she nibbled his earlobe and told him she wanted to ride him, he was pretty sure he'd met his match. And when they came together? Fucking intense.
So no, he's not looking for a getaway. He's looking for a repeat.
He supposes he could tell her all that. What he does instead is grab her hand and pull it down between them so she can feel properly (none of this 'against the hip' shit) how hard he is again. She laughs softly, bites her lip, and without him telling her to, she wraps her hand around him.
"Yeah," he manages, leaning his forehead against hers. "Fuck, yes." He reaches down and slips his hand between her legs, which stops up her rhythm for a second before she continues. "Best reunion ever."
He's talking about them, not that other one.
... ... ...
They're sitting on the floor, his back to against the wall and her between his legs. Don't ask. It just...happened. She's running her hand up and down his calf, and he's gently, pointlessly, playing with her tits, 'cause they're right there and she's not stopping him.
"We shoulda done this in high school."
She laughs. "Before, after, or during the two and a half years I was your best friend's girlfriend?" she asks, tipping her head back. He kisses her cheek.
"If I'd know how fucking good you are, I probably would have just gone for it," he says, and she laughs and shakes her head. "What? It's not like I had any morals at the time."
"You did," she says quietly. "They were just...hidden."
His buzz wore off well over an hour ago, and he knows she's totally sober, too. He thinks it's pretty awesome that she's still obviously into this. (Evidenced by her moan when he flits his thumb over her nipple.)
"We should sleep," she says. He tightens his hold on her and brushes his lips across the back of her shoulder towards her neck.
"Naw. This is better."
"Well, yes, but..." She stops talking and takes a deep breath. "Noah, I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon."
He slides his hand under her thighs and picks her up as he stands, then he walks over and sets her down on the bed. She's smiling at him, but her eyes are pleading, and he knows she thinks they're getting into something they both know can only mean trouble. He doesn't care. They knew the second he kissed her that there was only one night (to be honest, he was hoping for a couple, but he'll take what he can get).
"That just means I only have one night to convince you I'm the best you've ever had," he says, settling himself between her thighs. She closes her eyes and smiles like she doesn't really want to let him. (But yeah, she does.)
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she says, laughing quietly. He kisses her neck and bends her leg so he's pressed right against her. "But it's so, so good."
"Told you it would be." He smirks smugly and she takes his chin in her hand and kisses him hard.
"I'm going to be so sore tomorrow," she says. He presses himself against her center and fuck, where'd he put those condoms they got from the front desk? (Hell yeah. He wasn't too shy to call and ask.)
"Good sore," he insists, and fuck it. He needs to know what she feels like with no barrier. When he pushes into her, she groans and her nails dig in to the small of his back. "Holy fuck, Rachel."
"Noah, this is...we can't..."
"I know. I know." He pulls out after another couple slow strokes, and she hands him a condom. "I want you so bad."
"Me too."
"Yeah?" he asks needlessly as he tears open the wrapper.
She nods and kisses him, but he knows she doesn't realize that he really wishes she lived in the area. It's really, really fucked up, but he thinks he might actually miss her when she leaves.
... ... ...
She showers in the morning after waking him up with her hand wrapped around him (best wake up call ever) and it's like he's just not moving out of protest or something, because he's just laying there in the bed, watching as she gathers her things. Her hair is in a braid and she's wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a loose black sweater. She looks amazing, even if she is visibly exhausted. That tends to happen when you spend almost your whole night fucking.
"Time does your flight leave?" he asks, adjusting the pillow beneath his head. He knows she's been in town three days, spent time with her fathers and all that before the reunion.
"2:00," she replies automatically. "I'm having brunch with my dads and then they're going to drive me to the airport. Am I forgetting something? I feel like I'm forgetting something."
He laughs and crooks his finger when she looks over at him, and she shakes her head like she doesn't have time to mess around. She walks toward him anyway.
"Wish I could fuck you one more time before you go," he says. She leans down to kiss him and runs her thumb over his cheek. And yeah, that's probably as close to 'I'll miss you' as she's going to get from him.
"I really have to go," she says regrettably. "But this...This was amazing." He grins proudly and wiggles his brow. "I haven't had this much fun in ages."
"Yeah." He slides his hand around the back of her neck and pulls her toward him again.
She pulls away, stands and pushes up her sleeves. "I really..."
"Have to go. I know." Every time she says it, it starts to suck a little more. Especially when she bends over to pick up her bag and he gets a view of her ass.
"Check out isn't until noon. You can just let yourself out," she instructs him. She hitches her bag over her shoulder and pulls up the handle of her rolling suitcase. He looks at her expectantly, so she walks over and kisses him one last time. "Thank you. It was wonderful seeing you again."
"You too," he says. If the sheet that's been covering him accidentally falls away and she can see all of him? Totally not his fault.
He doesn't know what to say and he can tell she doesn't, either. She just grabs onto her suitcase and starts towards the door, and he watches her go. She turns before she gets there and smiles at him.
"If you're ever in New York..." She leaves it open ended, and he winks at her.
They both know he'll likely never go to New York. It was nice of her to say it anyway.
... ... ...
He pulls on his pants and zips them at quarter to twelve, and when he's got his shirt on and partially buttoned, he grabs his phone and tries to tuck it into his pocket. He smirks when he feels the fabric in there, then remembers the night before, pocketing her panties after she took them off.
He's smirking as he heads for the elevator.
If she ever comes back to Ohio, he might consider giving them back. If she asks nicely.