The Sun Is Burning In The Sky [1/2]
Title: The Sun Is Burning In The Sky
Chapter: 1/2
Warning: Hard R/Borderline NC-17-ish. Fictable prompt #48 - Summer (Same 'verse as Hazy Shade of Winter, but you can read this one without reading that one if you're lazy like me.)
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: It's summer and they're young, and it's not like it's unhealthy to have a regular sexual partner.
Word Count: 14,371 (total)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
She's running up the stairs in front of him, wearing absolutely nothing and trying not to giggle into the hand that's covering her mouth. He smacks her ass before they get into his bedroom, and she collapses onto his bed, laughing far too hard as soon as the door is closed.
She's actually kind of adorable right now, and if he wasn't totally hard and completely frustrated, he might think of telling her. He probably wouldn't actually say the words, but he'd consider it a little more seriously.
"Not funny," he tells her, dropping their clothes in a heap on the floor. He's still wearing boxers. She shakes her head and wipes tears from her eyes with the pad of her thumb. "Why are you laughing?"
"Because!" she laughs. She pushes herself back against his pillows. He thinks about joining her, but he kind of likes the view from where he's standing. There's a hickey on the inside of her thigh from just minutes ago, and her cheeks are all flushed from what they were doing, and now laughing. "Because your mother almost caught us."
"It's not funny," he grumbles again. He walks over and pulls the blinds on his window shut when he realizes they're open. "She'd kill me. All I've heard for like, weeks is how much she loves her new couch." Rachel laughs again and covers her mouth. He really digs that she doesn't seem to care that she's totally naked. "Pretty sure she'd kick me out if she caught me having sex on it."
Rachel bites her lip and he ends up taking a step closer to her. "Technically we weren't having sex," she tells him.
And just like that, nothing's funny anymore.
Yeah, there's a reason she's naked and he's not. He owes her from last night, when they were driving around and she went down on him. His head is still kind of spinning over that one, because Rachel giving road head without a lecture on safety and shit is pretty weird. He pulled over anyway, 'cause honestly, he wanted to enjoy her mouth without any distractions.
When he called her today, she tried to tell him she was busy and couldn't spare time to see him. He'd just talked to her and said the craziest shit he knew she'd love, and she was all breathy and telling him she'd come over.
His mom was supposed to be at work until after dinner and his sister is at summer camp for two weeks. When he heard the garage door open, he kind of panicked a little, stopped going down on Rachel, and told her to fucking run upstairs. He gathered their clothes while she laughed from the bottom of the stairs, and he may have smacked her ass again mid-freakout and told her she seriously had to move.
"No," he says, climbing onto the bed. He pushes her legs apart and looks up at her. She's still smiling when he reaches forward and brushes his thumb over her. "How are you wetter now?" he asks, almost laughing. She rolls her hips and whimpers. "You liked almost getting caught."
"Puck," she whines. He smirks. He basically loves it when she calls him that. As good as his given name sounds when she says it, more often than not, she calls him Puck when she wants to get his attention.
"I gotta keep that shit in mind," he tells her. He leans forward to lick a stripe up her center, and her hand runs through his short hair as she tries to keep quiet.
"Noah?" they hear through the door. Rachel tries to push his head away, but he squeezes her hip and kisses the inside of her thigh.
"Yeah," he says hurriedly. "Rachel's over."
"Oh! Okay. Hi, Rachel," Mrs. Puckerman says.
Rachel is clearly enjoying far too much the way his thumb is moving in slow circles over her clit. He looks up at her, presses down harder and watches as she bites her lip hard.
"Hi, Mrs. Puckerman," Rachel manages. She tries to close her legs, but Puck won't let her. She brings her foot up to kick him in the side and he laughs as they hear footsteps going back down the stairs. "I hate you so much."
He smirks and kisses her thigh again, tongue darting out as he gets closer to her center again. "I know," he says, and they're both laughing softly until he closes his mouth around her.
... ... ...
She's probably crazy to be involved in this kind of purely, no doubt about it, sex only relationship with him, but if she's being honest, she doesn't really care. Well, that's not true. Of course she cares. She demands that he treat her with respect (yes, he still slips up from time to time, but she doesn't let him get away with it), and that they're always safe, and that everything they do is 100 per cent mutual. It's summer and they're young, and it's not like it's unhealthy to have a regular sexual partner.
After their winter break, when everything was so good, then so terrible, then back to relatively good again, she went back to her life in New York and barely thought about him. That's not even an exaggeration. She didn't think about him because she didn't need to. They'd had a couple sexual encounters that were far above average, but they hadn't promised to keep in touch or see one another soon or anything like that. He friended her on Facebook, but that was the extent of their interaction, and she was more than fine with that.
She thought about him once, notably, and it was the most awful time for his image and talents to pop into her head. She'd been dating this guy, Aaron, she really quite liked from one of her classes. He was sweet and nice, and he was definitely gorgeous. When they made the decision to sleep together, Rachel was so beyond disappointed in his...everything. She found herself thinking about Noah, and how he could curl his tongue that certain way and make her crazy. About his size and his hands and his staying power and how it felt to come apart beneath him. Or on top of him. Or with his head between her thighs.
The first time with Aaron, she pushed Noah from her mind and focused on the man she was with. (Luckily, she is a fantastic actress.) The second time, she couldn't help herself. She knew the only way she'd find release was to think of Noah. Needless to say, her relationship with Aaron did not last.
Then, a few weeks ago when she saw Noah at that party and they ended up in what he calls 'their' room at Mercedes' house, she wanted him so badly she didn't care if it was probably a bad idea and the summer may just end up being a longer repeat of their winter break.
He called her a couple days later and asked if she wanted a ride to the lake, where everyone was going to spend a day by the water. They ended up staying out most of the night and making out (very little more) in his truck by the lake after everyone else had left. They talked and came to the agreement that there was no reason they couldn't continue to be together, casually, with no big expectations or anything like that.
It's worked out well so far. His mother knows about them, hence her not losing her mind over the fact that the two of them were together in Noah's room. And Mrs. Puckerman is rather liberal with her son, given that he's 19 and has already made the kind of mistake he's not stupid enough to make twice. Rachel's fathers just know Noah as another of her friends, and as far as she's concerned, that's all they need to know right now.
She's having far too much fun to be concerned about much of anything at all.
... ... ...
He's back to working at the music store where Mr. Schue hooked him up with a job during senior year. They were cool enough to let him come back to work during the summer. It's only part time, but he doesn't really mind, 'cause that gives him time to clean a few pools (no seriously, just clean pools) and spend a fuckton of time in empty houses with a naked Rachel.
This is on par to be the best summer ever.
And look, it might sound like he's using Rachel, but he's totally not. She's cool. She's hilarious, for one thing, even if half the time she really has no clue why he's laughing. And she's being pretty discreet and stuff. He's pretty sure all their friends know they're hooking up (he doesn't care if they do) but Rachel's really cool about not letting on they're fucking. He thinks she probably cares more than he does if people find out. Whatever. She should be happy he's fucking around with her and not someone else.
That's something they haven't really talked about; them fucking around with other people outside of one another. See, they've stated pretty clearly that this is casual. Casual to him means, 'regular sex, but not a girlfriend'. It's the best kind of relationship. He hasn't fucked anyone else because he hasn't wanted to fuck anyone else. Rachel is all the woman he can handle right now. But it's nice to know the door is open if he wants to be with someone other than her. She could be with whoever else, too, and it wouldn't be his place to say shit about it.
Besides, it's not like she's not gonna come back to him when she realizes other dudes aren't nearly as good as he is. She's already told him about that douchebag she dated in New York and how she couldn't get off without thinking of Puck. What guy doesn't want a girl saying that? So of course, as soon as that conversation was over, he pressed her against the floor and gave it to her good. Yeah, on the floor. Whatever. They were already there anyway.
But yeah, in the last few weeks, they've been hanging out and whatever. Sometimes he listens to her when she talks, even though he's told her pretty explicitly that talking isn't exactly necessary. She's got to know he's bluffing, 'cause sometimes when she comes over, he's playing guitar or watching TV or whatever and he doesn't pounce on her right away.
She shows up at his place after her ballet class. He's just gotten off work, and he's fucking exhausted, but when he sees her in his room in this little leotard thing or whatever, he basically needs to get it off her immediately.
"Sorry I didn't call," she says, clocking the door shut behind her.
"I don't care," he tells her seriously. She pulls the elastic from her hair, and he watches her. He unzips his fly and slips his hand inside, which makes her laugh softly and shake her head. "What? You look fuckin' hot right now."
She walks towards the bed, untying her little pink skirt thing and dropping it onto the floor. "Don't you want to wait for me?"
He shakes his head. "No," he answers honestly. "'M'tired. You're gonna ride me."
"I think my dance class was probably more tiring than your four hour shift," she insists. He shrugs his shoulder and she watches as he runs his hand over the front of his boxers while his eyes are on her body. "You're not even going to help undress me?"
"Naw. You got this."
She puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. He doesn't care. It's not like she's gonna leave without fucking him now. She's probably wet as hell already. She's kind of got her eyes glued to where he's practically jerking off, so he slips his hand into his boxers, because the wetter she is before she's naked, the faster he's inside her once she is.
She tugs at the legs of his jeans and he groans when he lifts his hips so she can pull them off. Her hands go to the elastic of his boxers, then, and she pulls those down, too. Her mouth comes way too close to his cock without her actually using it on him. He groans when he sees her bite her lip. She fucking loves watching him, he can tell. He says her name and he's two seconds from telling her to get naked right fucking now when she pulls the straps of her leotard down her arms. She's totally naked underneath, and he groans and arches into his hand when he sees her tits.
"Would you please wait for me?" she asks, laughing as she drops her leotard on the floor and hooks her fingers into the waistband of her tights.
"Would you please hurry the fuck up? Goddamn, Rach, I'm fresh outta ones. Quit the fuckin' striptease and let me fuck you."
"Move your hand." He strokes himself slowly. "Noah!" she cries. "Not like that. I mean...stop."
He rolls his eyes and pulls his hand away. It sucks, just sitting there all hard as hell and waiting for her. It's hot, too, for sure, but he is not patient. She finally drops her tights onto the floor and gets onto her knees on the bed, sitting between his legs. She runs a hand down his chest and reaches for his length. He pushes her hand away, though, grabs onto her arms and pulls her none-too-gently onto his lap.
"I gotta do all the work?" he asks. He's smirking as she glares.
"Well, you've already been pleasuring yourself," she reminds him, eyebrow raised as she rocks her hips against him. She grabs a condom, hands it to him and watches him roll it on. "You better do at least some work."
He grips her hips and grabs his length. She gets the hint and shifts so he can guide himself into her, and they moan in tandem as soon as he's inside her. When she tries to move, he holds her in her place and grabs her arm, pulling her down so he can kiss her.
"Don't you ever fucking doubt that I'll get you off."
It's a promise they both know he's going to keep.
... ... ...
She gets a cold for a few days, and when he calls her to see if she wants to meet up somewhere for some outdoor sex, he wastes no time telling her she sounds like shit. She doesn't need the reminder. Part of her wants to blame herself, because maybe if she wasn't pushing herself so hard in dance and voice classes and spending almost all of the rest of her time engaging in depraved acts with Noah, she wouldn't have been so susceptible to this virus.
"I'm sick," she tells him again, enunciating better because apparently he chose to ignore her the first time she said it. "I feel awful."
"Uh," he mumbles. She can practically hear him arguing with himself. "You need anything?"
"Actually, I really need some Theraflu. We ran out, and I'm medicated and don't trust myself to drive."
"Yeah, don't do that," he says.
"Aww," she says, sinking down into her bed more. "Are you worried?"
"Fuck no," he answers quickly. "Need anything else? Fuckin'...cough drops or...I dunno."
"You're really going to get me Theraflu?" She rolls onto her side, tucking her pillow beneath her head and tries not to smile. It hurts her head to smile. Also, she doesn't want to put too much thought into him doing anything for her outside the bedroom.
"You need it, right? I'll be there in like, a half hour."
"Can you bring me a couple movies? I'm so tired of watching daytime television."
"Yeah, whatever."
He ends the call and despite the fact that he didn't even say goodbye, she thinks it's really, really sweet of him to offer to get her anything. She knows they aren't a couple, not even close to it, but it's nice that he's at least concerned enough to bring her something to make her feel better. It's probably because he just wants her better faster so they can continue having sex every second day (at least), but she's miserable and he's about to bring her something to make her less so, so she's not going to question his motives.
She's half asleep when he walks in. She's a little surprised that he's actually prepared her a cup of Theraflu. She smiles, but doesn't really move as he sets a shopping bag on the end of the bed.
"Got a couple movies," he tells her. "And some cough drops my mom says are really good. They're sugar free or whatever, so you don't have to freak out about it."
"Thank you," she says, her voice hoarse.
"Cool. Later. Call me when you're feeling better."
She's not surprised when he throws her a wink and leaves the room. She tells herself not to care.
He brought her The Godfather and Rudy. She wouldn't bother watching either, but she knows he'll ask her what she thought and totally judge her if she doesn't have an opinion. She falls asleep halfway through Rudy, and when she tells him over the phone the next day, he very seriously tells her to try again.
... ... ...
When he invited her to this party with him, he honestly didn't expect her to drink three beer within an hour and be borderline shitfaced.
His coworker, Jared, decided to have some people over to his parents' place, since they're in Poland or something for the summer and he has the house to himself. He told everyone to bring whoever they wanted, that he'd supply beer and food and music. So Puck was pretty much all over that.
But yeah, his plans to drink his face off got fucked when he realized Rachel was doing that very thing. Not that he cares; he thinks it'd do the girl some good to loosen up. He doesn't really know why she's drinking so fast, though.
"Hey," he says, coming up behind her and wrapping his hand around the one of hers holding her beer can. She leans back against him and turns her head to look up at him.
"Hi," she says quietly. She kisses his neck and he smiles and shakes his head. He doesn't care if the people from his work see him with her, because a, it's none of their fucking business, and b, she looks super hot at the best of times.
Now maybe be the greatest time to ever be a time.
What?
Whatever. She looks super hot in this strapless yellow sun dress thing. It's all short and lightweight, and she's obviously not wearing a bra. Not like she's super huge in the chest area, so it doesn't really matter, but it's good to know anyway. When he slips his hand over her stomach, he definitely likes how the fabric moves under his palm.
"What's your hurry?" he asks her. She turns in his arms, and when he looks down (force of habit) he sees that her nipples are totally hard under her dress.
"No hurry," she tells him. "Beer is delicious."
He laughs, shoots a smile to Jared, who's listening to the whole thing. "I know," Puck says. "It's only 11:00 and you're half cut."
"Are you going to make me slow down?" She fakes a pout and Jared laughs. She leans up to speak into Puck's ear, and her arms go around his neck as she does. "You know I like things fast."
He laughs and lifts her up easily so she can sit on the counter in front of him. "I know, Rach," he tells her. "Later."
"Oh, fuck," Jared groans. "I do not want to know what she just said to you."
Puck turns so he's still standing between her knees with back is to her. She massages his shoulders a little bit as they both look at his friend. "Probably not," Puck says. Rachel leans forward and kisses the back of his neck. "Dude, where's your girl?"
Jared rolls his eyes. He's got this on again, off again girlfriend he's been with for like, three years. Puck never really knows one day to the next whether or not she's actually his girlfriend or not. Puck's seen her, though, and she's smoking hot. And she's nice, too, if you like blonde chicks who think they're better than you. He's already tried his hand at entertaining one of those, and it didn't really work out so well for him.
"I dunno," Jared says. "She said she'd stop by."
"Stop by?" Rachel asks, her hands stilling on Puck's shoulders. He turns his head and sees that she's as pissed as she sounds. "That's ridiculous. She's your girlfriend. She should be here to support you, shouldn't she?"
Puck laughs. "It's a party, Rachel. What support does he need?"
She shrugs and drapes her arms over his shoulders, pressing her chest against his back. "I don't know," she admits. "But I'm not even your girlfriend, and if you told me you were having a party, I'd commit to being there."
"That's 'cause you know what we do at parties," he jokes.
"Puck!" she gasps, bringing her knee up into his side.
They do that often, though, joke about the parties they've been to and where they've hooked up. Mercedes insists she's never going to be able to step foot in their spare bedroom again because she knows what's gone on in there. Rachel actually bought new sheets for Mercedes after that first time at the beginning of the summer. Puck doesn't give a shit. It's hot that Rachel seems to get off on there being people around who could hear them.
Who would have thought uptight Rachel Berry had it in her?
He's a little concerned with how much her dress is riding up. He turns his head to kiss her, mutters something about her being careful not to show to much leg to anyone who isn't him.
The party starts getting a little bigger, with a ton more people there than when they first showed up. Rachel is standing by Puck's side, a little closer than before. He knows she's not just clingy because she's been drinking. There are a bunch of guys here neither of them know, and some of them are kind of shady looking. One of them bumps into her, and she ends up clutching Puck's arm, sliding her hand down to hold his. He lets her, despite the fact that they really don't ever hold hands. Ever. He's not really into that kind of thing.
Rachel flinches when they hear something break and shatter in the next room. She's just finished another drink, and Puck pulls her a little closer to him.
"Wanna go?" he shouts over the music.
She squeezes his hand and nods quickly. He kisses her because she looks kind of on edge. Also because there's an older guy standing not far from them who keeps looking at her like he wants to tear her dress off, and Puck's having a really fucking hard time not going over there and telling the dude to back the fuck off.
He waves goodbye to Jared while he pulls Rachel towards the door, and as soon as they're outside, she lets go of his hand.
"What's that smell?" she asks, scrunching her nose.
He sniffs the air and looks to the other end of the porch where there are a few people sharing a bong. She's so naive sometimes that it's shit like this he really doesn't want to get into with her.
"Weed," he says anyway, because she's standing there waiting for an answer, and he's not gonna lie to her. When he sees that she's still a little scared, he second guesses bringing her to this party at all.
He doesn't get a chance to tell her, because she's turning around quickly, leaning over and throwing up. The smell must have hit her too hard and turned her stomach. Fuck. Worst party ever. He's quickly behind her, grabbing her hair (god, he doesn't want to know what she'd do if she puked in her own hair) and running a hand up and down her side. He grabs the bottle of water from his back pocket and hands it to her when she's standing up straight again. She looks like she might start crying.
"I'm sorry. This is...I'm so embarrassed," she says quietly.
He shrugs carelessly. "Don't worry about it," he tells her. He hands over the water bottle. "Here." She opens it and takes a little sip. "Spit it out." She scrunches her face as she swishes the water around in her mouth. "Trust me. Spit it out." She tucks her hair behind her ear, turns away from him and spits the water out onto the grass. "Do it again."
"I don't like you bossing me around," she says miserably. He laughs and looks at her expectantly until she follows his orders. She screws the cap back onto the bottle and starts to hand it to him before deciding he probably doesn't want it back. "I don't even feel drunk anymore."
"You just puked."
She grimaces. "I mean before that, even," she tells himself. "I think it was just...everything."
"Yeah, this isn't really your scene," he admits after seeing her glance to the people on the porch again. He throws his arm around her and kisses her forehead. He realizes she's sweating. "You okay?" She nods, but he's not convinced. "Rachel."
"I'm fine," she insists as they get to his truck. He wrenches the door open for her (he's not being polite, there's just a trick to doing it, and she's fucking hopeless at it) and grabs her elbow before she can climb in. "I don't really ever want you seeing me like that."
He grins. That's pretty fucking cute of her. "Too late," he says. She rolls her eyes and looks downward. "It's no big deal. You've seen me puke."
She lets out a bitter laugh and looks up at him again. "And I still kiss you despite that."
"Exactly," he laughs. "We'll get you some mouthwash and some food, and you'll be good as new." She toys with the bottle in her hands and then reaches out and tugs on one of the buttons on his shirt. "What?"
"You're being really nice to me right now," she says quietly, like it's some big surprise that he's not acting like a dick. Maybe it is. He's pretty sure the last time he saw her really good and drunk, he made fun of her for months. He also wasn't fucking her then.
He shrugs, pushes her towards the truck a little, and slams the door shut behind her.
He drops her off at her place, and she makes him promise he isn't disgusted by her now. He laughs and says he isn't, but she doesn't really seem to believe him until he slips a hand under her dress and kisses along her neck and promises she can come over tomorrow and he'll prove it to her when she feels better.
As he drives away from her place, he realizes he actually likes her or whatever. They're friends.
That has nothing to do with why he takes her breakfast from the diner they both love. He shows up just after her dads have left from the day. His shift at the store doesn't start until 2:00, so he spends almost all day in bed with her before grabbing a quick shower and pulling his dorky work polo over his head. She's sleeping in her bed when he steps out of her bathroom. He smiles, scribbles a note on the little white board she keeps above her desk (Thanks for the sex. Talk later. I'm off at 8:00 -N) and resists the urge to kiss her while she sleeps, because that's something a boyfriend would do, and he's sure as fuck not one of those.
... ... ...
She's spending the day with the girls at Santana's place, lounging by the pool and trying to finalize their Fourth of July plans. There was talk of just going to the fair grounds, but that's what they've done every year since glee club started, so they want to do something different. Rachel suggests a camping trip, and everyone seems to be on board. Santana texts the guys to see if they're up for it, and they all text back within 10 minutes to say they're definitely on board. Rachel panics for a minute when she wonders if Noah can get off work, but then Santana announces he's replied to her and said he'd already taken the weekend off anyway.
He sends her a text a few moments later, and if she wasn't used to his language by now, she'd ignore him.
Where are you? I'm horny.
She tells him she's at Santana's and that she'll call him later. When he walks around the house 10 minutes later when she's laying on an air mattress in the pool, she's a little surprised. She also thinks he looks really, really good with his worn jeans on and his plaid short sleeved shirt undone. That feeling he stirred in her stomach when he texted her is just getting more and more intense. It would annoy her if she wasn't used to it and didn't know he'd be more than happy to take care of it.
They all trade hellos and everyone asks him what he's doing there. He's not lying when he says he was cleaning a pool in the neighbourhood, but he might be when he says he stopped by because he saw everyone's cars parked out front. He pulls his shirt off and drops it onto the deck, makes a few comments about there being six girls in this pool and all the dirty scenarios playing out in his head. Rachel rolls her eyes. Mercedes scoffs and mutters something about him really only caring about one of the girls.
"Fuck that. You know I'm equal opportunity," he says with a smirk. He kneels down to dip a hand into the water. Rachel is shaking her head. First of all, he's lying. Second of all, whether or not either of them outright admits to it, all their friends know they're sleeping together.
"Sure thing," Santana says, laughing. "You really expect us to believe you wouldn't fuck Rachel right now?"
Puck raises his brow as Rachel gasps and hisses out Santana's name.
"With you guys watching?" he asks, taking a glance at Rachel. "'Cause, you know, some people might find that really hot."
Rachel's cheeks flare red and she glares at him. "You're so disgusting," she mumbles. She could kill him for saying that. That's supposed to be between them, and she most certainly wouldn't want anyone actually watching them. God.
"Come on," he says, still knelt down. He grabs onto her arm when she gets close enough, and pulls her right up against the wall of the pool. He waits until everyone is preoccupied again, then brushes his thumb over her wet skin lightly. "Wanna go somewhere?"
She laughs. She knows him better than she thinks. "That look on your face is telling me we'd barely make it inside before you couldn't wait any longer." He just laughs. "Why would you think I'd want to be with you at all after what you just said to me?"
He watches as she slips off her mattress and into the water. She leans her elbows on the side of the pool and looks up at him. "I didn't really say it to you, I said it about you," he says, like that's supposed to make some kind of difference. "Rachel, I'm fucking hard up, here, and you look so fuckin' hot in this little bikini."
"It's been two days," she laughs.
"Exactly!" He reaches down and brushes a lock of hair off her forehead. "Come on, Rach. I'll do that thing that always makes you..."
"Oh, god," Quinn groans. All the other girls laugh. "Just go."
Puck stands up as Rachel heads for the steps to get out of the pool. He grabs a towel and heads over to meet her, and when he wraps it around her shoulders, he makes sure to brush his hands against her breasts. She looks up at him like she's onto him, but he just smirks. She thinks it's rather difficult not to just lean up and kiss him. She's pretty sure none of their friends would mind, but she doesn't really want the ridicule.
"I just need to get my things," she tells him. He nods, and she knows he's going to follow her into the house, and she knows that once they're inside, he's going to touch her and probably kiss her, and she really won't be able to stop any of it once it starts.
The door closes behind them and he grabs her hips, pulls her back to him. "Think we could fuck right here without them noticing?"
"Considering we're in front of a glass door and they're all already watching? No," she laughs. "Would you..." She shrugs her shoulder and tries to step away. "Noah, please."
He smirks as he pushes her further into the house. "I love it when you beg."
"Stop it." She laughs again and pulls away from him, clutching her towel to her body. "Can you control yourself for five minutes?" He raises his brow and looks at her. "Of course not. I'm just going to change. Stay here."
He stays for about two seconds and then follows her, and she tries to close the bathroom door in his face, but he walks in before she can. Then he lifts her up onto the counter and kisses her until she really can't stop him (and doesn't want to). She wants him as badly as he wants her, and there's no denying that. So when he tugs her bathing suit bottoms down her legs and hauls her to the edge of the counter, she throws her arms around his neck and looks down as he unzips his jeans.
Maybe their friends will figure out what they're doing, but when he's murmuring in her ear everything she makes him feel when he's inside her, she really can't find it in her to care.
... ... ...
Their first night camping, Rachel doesn't drink at all until Puck hands her a beer and reminds her (gruffly in her ear, and maybe he licks the lobe a bit) how delicious she thinks it is. She agrees and watches him twist off the cap and toss it into the campfire. She was cold, so she's wearing his sweatshirt and she's all curled up with her knees against her chest on her chair. Puck and most of the guys are standing around while the girls sit around the fire and make marshmallows and s'mores for everyone. Rachel just sips her beer and keeps one hand tucked into his sweater.
He's having a really hard time concentrating when she's sipping his favourite kind of beer, wearing his sweatshirt, and being all quiet and stuff. He thinks maybe there's something going on with her, but she's not talking to him about it. That really isn't weird, because they don't talk about that kind of shit. They talk, of course, but not about like, issues and stuff.
Well after dark, when Finn and Emily are sitting together on the ground around the fire, all cuddled up, and Tina is sitting on Artie's lap with her head resting against his. Matt and Quinn are talking quietly together, both of them sipping water. They've been inching towards something all summer long after their respective relationships ended in the spring, and Puck's fucking sick of watching them dance around one another. Santana and Brittany are playing drunk, mostly-in-the-dark soccer with Mike. Mercedes and Kurt have already gone to their tent for the night, since they want to get up early and make everyone breakfast.
So Puck leans down from where he's been standing behind Rachel. He slides his hands down her arms and kisses her cheek. It's weird, because he doesn't ever really do anything like that, not even when they're alone. Right now, other people are looking at them, and he doesn't really care.
"Let's go for a walk," he says.
She tips her head back, gives him this tiny little smile and nods her head. She sets her empty bottle on the ground and gets up. He appreciates the way it looks like she's wearing nothing but his sweater, since it's so long and covers her shorts. Once they're far enough away from the group and heading for the path he knows leads into the woods, he wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer to him. It's pretty clear, though, that the girl who doesn't ever stop talking isn't going to say anything.
"What's wrong?" he asks, and she shakes her head. He stops walking. "Rachel." He hears her breath hitch, and even though she's looking down, he thinks she's crying. "What?"
"I don't want to talk about it," she says quietly. He puts a hand on her cheek and tilts her head up. "You'll just..." She shakes her head again. "I'm fine."
"You're crying, and you've been quiet all day," he tells her. "You're not fine. Spill. We're not going anywhere until you talk."
She actually smiles at him and steps closer, hugging him for a second before pulling away and starting to walk again. "My dads are in the middle of this huge fight," she finally says. "Daddy left yesterday."
"What?" he asks. Shit. Her family is basically the most normal one he knows, other than the Jones', who are practically the Huxtables, V.2.0. He sticks his hands in his pockets, because her arms are crossed and she's about a foot away from him, and he doesn't know what to do with them if he's not touching her.
"I guess their relationship was strained all year with me being gone, and they just got into this yelling match yesterday. Daddy just threw some things into a bag and said he was going to Bubbie's."
"Well, he's coming back, right?" Puck asks. Maybe it's a stupid question, but maybe she knows the answer. She shrugs her shoulder. "Shit."
"I wasn't going to come, but Dad told me it was fine and he didn't want me staying home and missing out," she says. She looks over at him as he nods. "I'm sorry. This is totally bringing you down."
"Shut up," he says. "I mean it's fine."
"I'm just really scared they won't work it out," she admits quietly. She sniffles a little bit, so he moves closer to her and pulls her into a hug, lets her wrap her arms around him. He runs his hand through her hair a bit until she pulls away.
"They'll work it out," he insists. She looks up at him all hopeful and stuff. "I mean, I don't know them all that well, but they seem like good dudes. You know, in love and stuff." She smiles and shakes her head. He thinks he's failing hard at making her feel better. "Couples who've been together that long don't just break up like that."
"But they've been fighting."
"It happens," he tells her seriously. He's not trying to be a dick. "Everything'll be fine, Rachel."
She wraps her arms around him again and leans up to kiss him. It's just light, and he doesn't even try to slip her the tongue or anything. She doesn't need that right now, and he's not a total asshole.
"Thank you, Noah," she says. He lets out a noise from his throat as he hugs her.
They walk a little further, mostly quietly, and he realizes he's holding her hand. He's pretty sure he took it, too. She didn't try to be all sneaky and shit and put her hand in his. He likes it, actually. He gets her smiling a bit and makes her laugh a couple times. He steals a couple kisses and totally jokingly (seriously) suggests he fuck her against a tree. "Just to make you feel better," he says, and she tells him she feels fine. He grabs her by the front of the pocket of the sweater she's wearing and tugs her towards him, kisses her before they get back to their campsite. Everyone is already in for the night, so he throws some water and dirt on what's left of the campfire. When he gets into their tent, he sees Rachel sitting indian-style in just his sweater and a pair of panties. Her shorts and bra are folded on top of her bag, and she's pulling her hair up into a ponytail.
"I'm really tired," she tells him, and he knows that's code for 'not gonna happen tonight'. He doesn't even think he's mad about it. She's feeling all vulnerable and shit, and he's not even going to try to go there. She shoots him a look when she realizes he's zipped together their sleeping bags so they're basically in one big sleeping bag. "Well, no one can say you aren't resourceful."
He pulls his shirt over his head. "That's right," he grins, reaching for the zipper of his jeans. "You saw how fast I put this shit up today."
"You're a regular Boy Scout," she says, giggling as she tucks her legs into the sleeping bag. He slips in behind her and rests his hand on her hip beneath her sweater so his fingers are laying over the band at the side of her panties. "It's cold."
"Why do you think I'm so close?"
"Are you saying you wouldn't be anyway?" she asks, glancing at him over her shoulder.
"Naw, I just have an excuse now," he says. He kisses her temple and makes sure the sleeping bag is tucked up around them as close as possible.
"You don't need an excuse," she admits quietly. He squeezes her hip and he can't really be sure, but he probably falls asleep with a smile on his face.
...Part II...
Chapter: 1/2
Warning: Hard R/Borderline NC-17-ish. Fictable prompt #48 - Summer (Same 'verse as Hazy Shade of Winter, but you can read this one without reading that one if you're lazy like me.)
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: It's summer and they're young, and it's not like it's unhealthy to have a regular sexual partner.
Word Count: 14,371 (total)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
She's running up the stairs in front of him, wearing absolutely nothing and trying not to giggle into the hand that's covering her mouth. He smacks her ass before they get into his bedroom, and she collapses onto his bed, laughing far too hard as soon as the door is closed.
She's actually kind of adorable right now, and if he wasn't totally hard and completely frustrated, he might think of telling her. He probably wouldn't actually say the words, but he'd consider it a little more seriously.
"Not funny," he tells her, dropping their clothes in a heap on the floor. He's still wearing boxers. She shakes her head and wipes tears from her eyes with the pad of her thumb. "Why are you laughing?"
"Because!" she laughs. She pushes herself back against his pillows. He thinks about joining her, but he kind of likes the view from where he's standing. There's a hickey on the inside of her thigh from just minutes ago, and her cheeks are all flushed from what they were doing, and now laughing. "Because your mother almost caught us."
"It's not funny," he grumbles again. He walks over and pulls the blinds on his window shut when he realizes they're open. "She'd kill me. All I've heard for like, weeks is how much she loves her new couch." Rachel laughs again and covers her mouth. He really digs that she doesn't seem to care that she's totally naked. "Pretty sure she'd kick me out if she caught me having sex on it."
Rachel bites her lip and he ends up taking a step closer to her. "Technically we weren't having sex," she tells him.
And just like that, nothing's funny anymore.
Yeah, there's a reason she's naked and he's not. He owes her from last night, when they were driving around and she went down on him. His head is still kind of spinning over that one, because Rachel giving road head without a lecture on safety and shit is pretty weird. He pulled over anyway, 'cause honestly, he wanted to enjoy her mouth without any distractions.
When he called her today, she tried to tell him she was busy and couldn't spare time to see him. He'd just talked to her and said the craziest shit he knew she'd love, and she was all breathy and telling him she'd come over.
His mom was supposed to be at work until after dinner and his sister is at summer camp for two weeks. When he heard the garage door open, he kind of panicked a little, stopped going down on Rachel, and told her to fucking run upstairs. He gathered their clothes while she laughed from the bottom of the stairs, and he may have smacked her ass again mid-freakout and told her she seriously had to move.
"No," he says, climbing onto the bed. He pushes her legs apart and looks up at her. She's still smiling when he reaches forward and brushes his thumb over her. "How are you wetter now?" he asks, almost laughing. She rolls her hips and whimpers. "You liked almost getting caught."
"Puck," she whines. He smirks. He basically loves it when she calls him that. As good as his given name sounds when she says it, more often than not, she calls him Puck when she wants to get his attention.
"I gotta keep that shit in mind," he tells her. He leans forward to lick a stripe up her center, and her hand runs through his short hair as she tries to keep quiet.
"Noah?" they hear through the door. Rachel tries to push his head away, but he squeezes her hip and kisses the inside of her thigh.
"Yeah," he says hurriedly. "Rachel's over."
"Oh! Okay. Hi, Rachel," Mrs. Puckerman says.
Rachel is clearly enjoying far too much the way his thumb is moving in slow circles over her clit. He looks up at her, presses down harder and watches as she bites her lip hard.
"Hi, Mrs. Puckerman," Rachel manages. She tries to close her legs, but Puck won't let her. She brings her foot up to kick him in the side and he laughs as they hear footsteps going back down the stairs. "I hate you so much."
He smirks and kisses her thigh again, tongue darting out as he gets closer to her center again. "I know," he says, and they're both laughing softly until he closes his mouth around her.
... ... ...
She's probably crazy to be involved in this kind of purely, no doubt about it, sex only relationship with him, but if she's being honest, she doesn't really care. Well, that's not true. Of course she cares. She demands that he treat her with respect (yes, he still slips up from time to time, but she doesn't let him get away with it), and that they're always safe, and that everything they do is 100 per cent mutual. It's summer and they're young, and it's not like it's unhealthy to have a regular sexual partner.
After their winter break, when everything was so good, then so terrible, then back to relatively good again, she went back to her life in New York and barely thought about him. That's not even an exaggeration. She didn't think about him because she didn't need to. They'd had a couple sexual encounters that were far above average, but they hadn't promised to keep in touch or see one another soon or anything like that. He friended her on Facebook, but that was the extent of their interaction, and she was more than fine with that.
She thought about him once, notably, and it was the most awful time for his image and talents to pop into her head. She'd been dating this guy, Aaron, she really quite liked from one of her classes. He was sweet and nice, and he was definitely gorgeous. When they made the decision to sleep together, Rachel was so beyond disappointed in his...everything. She found herself thinking about Noah, and how he could curl his tongue that certain way and make her crazy. About his size and his hands and his staying power and how it felt to come apart beneath him. Or on top of him. Or with his head between her thighs.
The first time with Aaron, she pushed Noah from her mind and focused on the man she was with. (Luckily, she is a fantastic actress.) The second time, she couldn't help herself. She knew the only way she'd find release was to think of Noah. Needless to say, her relationship with Aaron did not last.
Then, a few weeks ago when she saw Noah at that party and they ended up in what he calls 'their' room at Mercedes' house, she wanted him so badly she didn't care if it was probably a bad idea and the summer may just end up being a longer repeat of their winter break.
He called her a couple days later and asked if she wanted a ride to the lake, where everyone was going to spend a day by the water. They ended up staying out most of the night and making out (very little more) in his truck by the lake after everyone else had left. They talked and came to the agreement that there was no reason they couldn't continue to be together, casually, with no big expectations or anything like that.
It's worked out well so far. His mother knows about them, hence her not losing her mind over the fact that the two of them were together in Noah's room. And Mrs. Puckerman is rather liberal with her son, given that he's 19 and has already made the kind of mistake he's not stupid enough to make twice. Rachel's fathers just know Noah as another of her friends, and as far as she's concerned, that's all they need to know right now.
She's having far too much fun to be concerned about much of anything at all.
... ... ...
He's back to working at the music store where Mr. Schue hooked him up with a job during senior year. They were cool enough to let him come back to work during the summer. It's only part time, but he doesn't really mind, 'cause that gives him time to clean a few pools (no seriously, just clean pools) and spend a fuckton of time in empty houses with a naked Rachel.
This is on par to be the best summer ever.
And look, it might sound like he's using Rachel, but he's totally not. She's cool. She's hilarious, for one thing, even if half the time she really has no clue why he's laughing. And she's being pretty discreet and stuff. He's pretty sure all their friends know they're hooking up (he doesn't care if they do) but Rachel's really cool about not letting on they're fucking. He thinks she probably cares more than he does if people find out. Whatever. She should be happy he's fucking around with her and not someone else.
That's something they haven't really talked about; them fucking around with other people outside of one another. See, they've stated pretty clearly that this is casual. Casual to him means, 'regular sex, but not a girlfriend'. It's the best kind of relationship. He hasn't fucked anyone else because he hasn't wanted to fuck anyone else. Rachel is all the woman he can handle right now. But it's nice to know the door is open if he wants to be with someone other than her. She could be with whoever else, too, and it wouldn't be his place to say shit about it.
Besides, it's not like she's not gonna come back to him when she realizes other dudes aren't nearly as good as he is. She's already told him about that douchebag she dated in New York and how she couldn't get off without thinking of Puck. What guy doesn't want a girl saying that? So of course, as soon as that conversation was over, he pressed her against the floor and gave it to her good. Yeah, on the floor. Whatever. They were already there anyway.
But yeah, in the last few weeks, they've been hanging out and whatever. Sometimes he listens to her when she talks, even though he's told her pretty explicitly that talking isn't exactly necessary. She's got to know he's bluffing, 'cause sometimes when she comes over, he's playing guitar or watching TV or whatever and he doesn't pounce on her right away.
She shows up at his place after her ballet class. He's just gotten off work, and he's fucking exhausted, but when he sees her in his room in this little leotard thing or whatever, he basically needs to get it off her immediately.
"Sorry I didn't call," she says, clocking the door shut behind her.
"I don't care," he tells her seriously. She pulls the elastic from her hair, and he watches her. He unzips his fly and slips his hand inside, which makes her laugh softly and shake her head. "What? You look fuckin' hot right now."
She walks towards the bed, untying her little pink skirt thing and dropping it onto the floor. "Don't you want to wait for me?"
He shakes his head. "No," he answers honestly. "'M'tired. You're gonna ride me."
"I think my dance class was probably more tiring than your four hour shift," she insists. He shrugs his shoulder and she watches as he runs his hand over the front of his boxers while his eyes are on her body. "You're not even going to help undress me?"
"Naw. You got this."
She puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. He doesn't care. It's not like she's gonna leave without fucking him now. She's probably wet as hell already. She's kind of got her eyes glued to where he's practically jerking off, so he slips his hand into his boxers, because the wetter she is before she's naked, the faster he's inside her once she is.
She tugs at the legs of his jeans and he groans when he lifts his hips so she can pull them off. Her hands go to the elastic of his boxers, then, and she pulls those down, too. Her mouth comes way too close to his cock without her actually using it on him. He groans when he sees her bite her lip. She fucking loves watching him, he can tell. He says her name and he's two seconds from telling her to get naked right fucking now when she pulls the straps of her leotard down her arms. She's totally naked underneath, and he groans and arches into his hand when he sees her tits.
"Would you please wait for me?" she asks, laughing as she drops her leotard on the floor and hooks her fingers into the waistband of her tights.
"Would you please hurry the fuck up? Goddamn, Rach, I'm fresh outta ones. Quit the fuckin' striptease and let me fuck you."
"Move your hand." He strokes himself slowly. "Noah!" she cries. "Not like that. I mean...stop."
He rolls his eyes and pulls his hand away. It sucks, just sitting there all hard as hell and waiting for her. It's hot, too, for sure, but he is not patient. She finally drops her tights onto the floor and gets onto her knees on the bed, sitting between his legs. She runs a hand down his chest and reaches for his length. He pushes her hand away, though, grabs onto her arms and pulls her none-too-gently onto his lap.
"I gotta do all the work?" he asks. He's smirking as she glares.
"Well, you've already been pleasuring yourself," she reminds him, eyebrow raised as she rocks her hips against him. She grabs a condom, hands it to him and watches him roll it on. "You better do at least some work."
He grips her hips and grabs his length. She gets the hint and shifts so he can guide himself into her, and they moan in tandem as soon as he's inside her. When she tries to move, he holds her in her place and grabs her arm, pulling her down so he can kiss her.
"Don't you ever fucking doubt that I'll get you off."
It's a promise they both know he's going to keep.
... ... ...
She gets a cold for a few days, and when he calls her to see if she wants to meet up somewhere for some outdoor sex, he wastes no time telling her she sounds like shit. She doesn't need the reminder. Part of her wants to blame herself, because maybe if she wasn't pushing herself so hard in dance and voice classes and spending almost all of the rest of her time engaging in depraved acts with Noah, she wouldn't have been so susceptible to this virus.
"I'm sick," she tells him again, enunciating better because apparently he chose to ignore her the first time she said it. "I feel awful."
"Uh," he mumbles. She can practically hear him arguing with himself. "You need anything?"
"Actually, I really need some Theraflu. We ran out, and I'm medicated and don't trust myself to drive."
"Yeah, don't do that," he says.
"Aww," she says, sinking down into her bed more. "Are you worried?"
"Fuck no," he answers quickly. "Need anything else? Fuckin'...cough drops or...I dunno."
"You're really going to get me Theraflu?" She rolls onto her side, tucking her pillow beneath her head and tries not to smile. It hurts her head to smile. Also, she doesn't want to put too much thought into him doing anything for her outside the bedroom.
"You need it, right? I'll be there in like, a half hour."
"Can you bring me a couple movies? I'm so tired of watching daytime television."
"Yeah, whatever."
He ends the call and despite the fact that he didn't even say goodbye, she thinks it's really, really sweet of him to offer to get her anything. She knows they aren't a couple, not even close to it, but it's nice that he's at least concerned enough to bring her something to make her feel better. It's probably because he just wants her better faster so they can continue having sex every second day (at least), but she's miserable and he's about to bring her something to make her less so, so she's not going to question his motives.
She's half asleep when he walks in. She's a little surprised that he's actually prepared her a cup of Theraflu. She smiles, but doesn't really move as he sets a shopping bag on the end of the bed.
"Got a couple movies," he tells her. "And some cough drops my mom says are really good. They're sugar free or whatever, so you don't have to freak out about it."
"Thank you," she says, her voice hoarse.
"Cool. Later. Call me when you're feeling better."
She's not surprised when he throws her a wink and leaves the room. She tells herself not to care.
He brought her The Godfather and Rudy. She wouldn't bother watching either, but she knows he'll ask her what she thought and totally judge her if she doesn't have an opinion. She falls asleep halfway through Rudy, and when she tells him over the phone the next day, he very seriously tells her to try again.
... ... ...
When he invited her to this party with him, he honestly didn't expect her to drink three beer within an hour and be borderline shitfaced.
His coworker, Jared, decided to have some people over to his parents' place, since they're in Poland or something for the summer and he has the house to himself. He told everyone to bring whoever they wanted, that he'd supply beer and food and music. So Puck was pretty much all over that.
But yeah, his plans to drink his face off got fucked when he realized Rachel was doing that very thing. Not that he cares; he thinks it'd do the girl some good to loosen up. He doesn't really know why she's drinking so fast, though.
"Hey," he says, coming up behind her and wrapping his hand around the one of hers holding her beer can. She leans back against him and turns her head to look up at him.
"Hi," she says quietly. She kisses his neck and he smiles and shakes his head. He doesn't care if the people from his work see him with her, because a, it's none of their fucking business, and b, she looks super hot at the best of times.
Now maybe be the greatest time to ever be a time.
What?
Whatever. She looks super hot in this strapless yellow sun dress thing. It's all short and lightweight, and she's obviously not wearing a bra. Not like she's super huge in the chest area, so it doesn't really matter, but it's good to know anyway. When he slips his hand over her stomach, he definitely likes how the fabric moves under his palm.
"What's your hurry?" he asks her. She turns in his arms, and when he looks down (force of habit) he sees that her nipples are totally hard under her dress.
"No hurry," she tells him. "Beer is delicious."
He laughs, shoots a smile to Jared, who's listening to the whole thing. "I know," Puck says. "It's only 11:00 and you're half cut."
"Are you going to make me slow down?" She fakes a pout and Jared laughs. She leans up to speak into Puck's ear, and her arms go around his neck as she does. "You know I like things fast."
He laughs and lifts her up easily so she can sit on the counter in front of him. "I know, Rach," he tells her. "Later."
"Oh, fuck," Jared groans. "I do not want to know what she just said to you."
Puck turns so he's still standing between her knees with back is to her. She massages his shoulders a little bit as they both look at his friend. "Probably not," Puck says. Rachel leans forward and kisses the back of his neck. "Dude, where's your girl?"
Jared rolls his eyes. He's got this on again, off again girlfriend he's been with for like, three years. Puck never really knows one day to the next whether or not she's actually his girlfriend or not. Puck's seen her, though, and she's smoking hot. And she's nice, too, if you like blonde chicks who think they're better than you. He's already tried his hand at entertaining one of those, and it didn't really work out so well for him.
"I dunno," Jared says. "She said she'd stop by."
"Stop by?" Rachel asks, her hands stilling on Puck's shoulders. He turns his head and sees that she's as pissed as she sounds. "That's ridiculous. She's your girlfriend. She should be here to support you, shouldn't she?"
Puck laughs. "It's a party, Rachel. What support does he need?"
She shrugs and drapes her arms over his shoulders, pressing her chest against his back. "I don't know," she admits. "But I'm not even your girlfriend, and if you told me you were having a party, I'd commit to being there."
"That's 'cause you know what we do at parties," he jokes.
"Puck!" she gasps, bringing her knee up into his side.
They do that often, though, joke about the parties they've been to and where they've hooked up. Mercedes insists she's never going to be able to step foot in their spare bedroom again because she knows what's gone on in there. Rachel actually bought new sheets for Mercedes after that first time at the beginning of the summer. Puck doesn't give a shit. It's hot that Rachel seems to get off on there being people around who could hear them.
Who would have thought uptight Rachel Berry had it in her?
He's a little concerned with how much her dress is riding up. He turns his head to kiss her, mutters something about her being careful not to show to much leg to anyone who isn't him.
The party starts getting a little bigger, with a ton more people there than when they first showed up. Rachel is standing by Puck's side, a little closer than before. He knows she's not just clingy because she's been drinking. There are a bunch of guys here neither of them know, and some of them are kind of shady looking. One of them bumps into her, and she ends up clutching Puck's arm, sliding her hand down to hold his. He lets her, despite the fact that they really don't ever hold hands. Ever. He's not really into that kind of thing.
Rachel flinches when they hear something break and shatter in the next room. She's just finished another drink, and Puck pulls her a little closer to him.
"Wanna go?" he shouts over the music.
She squeezes his hand and nods quickly. He kisses her because she looks kind of on edge. Also because there's an older guy standing not far from them who keeps looking at her like he wants to tear her dress off, and Puck's having a really fucking hard time not going over there and telling the dude to back the fuck off.
He waves goodbye to Jared while he pulls Rachel towards the door, and as soon as they're outside, she lets go of his hand.
"What's that smell?" she asks, scrunching her nose.
He sniffs the air and looks to the other end of the porch where there are a few people sharing a bong. She's so naive sometimes that it's shit like this he really doesn't want to get into with her.
"Weed," he says anyway, because she's standing there waiting for an answer, and he's not gonna lie to her. When he sees that she's still a little scared, he second guesses bringing her to this party at all.
He doesn't get a chance to tell her, because she's turning around quickly, leaning over and throwing up. The smell must have hit her too hard and turned her stomach. Fuck. Worst party ever. He's quickly behind her, grabbing her hair (god, he doesn't want to know what she'd do if she puked in her own hair) and running a hand up and down her side. He grabs the bottle of water from his back pocket and hands it to her when she's standing up straight again. She looks like she might start crying.
"I'm sorry. This is...I'm so embarrassed," she says quietly.
He shrugs carelessly. "Don't worry about it," he tells her. He hands over the water bottle. "Here." She opens it and takes a little sip. "Spit it out." She scrunches her face as she swishes the water around in her mouth. "Trust me. Spit it out." She tucks her hair behind her ear, turns away from him and spits the water out onto the grass. "Do it again."
"I don't like you bossing me around," she says miserably. He laughs and looks at her expectantly until she follows his orders. She screws the cap back onto the bottle and starts to hand it to him before deciding he probably doesn't want it back. "I don't even feel drunk anymore."
"You just puked."
She grimaces. "I mean before that, even," she tells himself. "I think it was just...everything."
"Yeah, this isn't really your scene," he admits after seeing her glance to the people on the porch again. He throws his arm around her and kisses her forehead. He realizes she's sweating. "You okay?" She nods, but he's not convinced. "Rachel."
"I'm fine," she insists as they get to his truck. He wrenches the door open for her (he's not being polite, there's just a trick to doing it, and she's fucking hopeless at it) and grabs her elbow before she can climb in. "I don't really ever want you seeing me like that."
He grins. That's pretty fucking cute of her. "Too late," he says. She rolls her eyes and looks downward. "It's no big deal. You've seen me puke."
She lets out a bitter laugh and looks up at him again. "And I still kiss you despite that."
"Exactly," he laughs. "We'll get you some mouthwash and some food, and you'll be good as new." She toys with the bottle in her hands and then reaches out and tugs on one of the buttons on his shirt. "What?"
"You're being really nice to me right now," she says quietly, like it's some big surprise that he's not acting like a dick. Maybe it is. He's pretty sure the last time he saw her really good and drunk, he made fun of her for months. He also wasn't fucking her then.
He shrugs, pushes her towards the truck a little, and slams the door shut behind her.
He drops her off at her place, and she makes him promise he isn't disgusted by her now. He laughs and says he isn't, but she doesn't really seem to believe him until he slips a hand under her dress and kisses along her neck and promises she can come over tomorrow and he'll prove it to her when she feels better.
As he drives away from her place, he realizes he actually likes her or whatever. They're friends.
That has nothing to do with why he takes her breakfast from the diner they both love. He shows up just after her dads have left from the day. His shift at the store doesn't start until 2:00, so he spends almost all day in bed with her before grabbing a quick shower and pulling his dorky work polo over his head. She's sleeping in her bed when he steps out of her bathroom. He smiles, scribbles a note on the little white board she keeps above her desk (Thanks for the sex. Talk later. I'm off at 8:00 -N) and resists the urge to kiss her while she sleeps, because that's something a boyfriend would do, and he's sure as fuck not one of those.
... ... ...
She's spending the day with the girls at Santana's place, lounging by the pool and trying to finalize their Fourth of July plans. There was talk of just going to the fair grounds, but that's what they've done every year since glee club started, so they want to do something different. Rachel suggests a camping trip, and everyone seems to be on board. Santana texts the guys to see if they're up for it, and they all text back within 10 minutes to say they're definitely on board. Rachel panics for a minute when she wonders if Noah can get off work, but then Santana announces he's replied to her and said he'd already taken the weekend off anyway.
He sends her a text a few moments later, and if she wasn't used to his language by now, she'd ignore him.
Where are you? I'm horny.
She tells him she's at Santana's and that she'll call him later. When he walks around the house 10 minutes later when she's laying on an air mattress in the pool, she's a little surprised. She also thinks he looks really, really good with his worn jeans on and his plaid short sleeved shirt undone. That feeling he stirred in her stomach when he texted her is just getting more and more intense. It would annoy her if she wasn't used to it and didn't know he'd be more than happy to take care of it.
They all trade hellos and everyone asks him what he's doing there. He's not lying when he says he was cleaning a pool in the neighbourhood, but he might be when he says he stopped by because he saw everyone's cars parked out front. He pulls his shirt off and drops it onto the deck, makes a few comments about there being six girls in this pool and all the dirty scenarios playing out in his head. Rachel rolls her eyes. Mercedes scoffs and mutters something about him really only caring about one of the girls.
"Fuck that. You know I'm equal opportunity," he says with a smirk. He kneels down to dip a hand into the water. Rachel is shaking her head. First of all, he's lying. Second of all, whether or not either of them outright admits to it, all their friends know they're sleeping together.
"Sure thing," Santana says, laughing. "You really expect us to believe you wouldn't fuck Rachel right now?"
Puck raises his brow as Rachel gasps and hisses out Santana's name.
"With you guys watching?" he asks, taking a glance at Rachel. "'Cause, you know, some people might find that really hot."
Rachel's cheeks flare red and she glares at him. "You're so disgusting," she mumbles. She could kill him for saying that. That's supposed to be between them, and she most certainly wouldn't want anyone actually watching them. God.
"Come on," he says, still knelt down. He grabs onto her arm when she gets close enough, and pulls her right up against the wall of the pool. He waits until everyone is preoccupied again, then brushes his thumb over her wet skin lightly. "Wanna go somewhere?"
She laughs. She knows him better than she thinks. "That look on your face is telling me we'd barely make it inside before you couldn't wait any longer." He just laughs. "Why would you think I'd want to be with you at all after what you just said to me?"
He watches as she slips off her mattress and into the water. She leans her elbows on the side of the pool and looks up at him. "I didn't really say it to you, I said it about you," he says, like that's supposed to make some kind of difference. "Rachel, I'm fucking hard up, here, and you look so fuckin' hot in this little bikini."
"It's been two days," she laughs.
"Exactly!" He reaches down and brushes a lock of hair off her forehead. "Come on, Rach. I'll do that thing that always makes you..."
"Oh, god," Quinn groans. All the other girls laugh. "Just go."
Puck stands up as Rachel heads for the steps to get out of the pool. He grabs a towel and heads over to meet her, and when he wraps it around her shoulders, he makes sure to brush his hands against her breasts. She looks up at him like she's onto him, but he just smirks. She thinks it's rather difficult not to just lean up and kiss him. She's pretty sure none of their friends would mind, but she doesn't really want the ridicule.
"I just need to get my things," she tells him. He nods, and she knows he's going to follow her into the house, and she knows that once they're inside, he's going to touch her and probably kiss her, and she really won't be able to stop any of it once it starts.
The door closes behind them and he grabs her hips, pulls her back to him. "Think we could fuck right here without them noticing?"
"Considering we're in front of a glass door and they're all already watching? No," she laughs. "Would you..." She shrugs her shoulder and tries to step away. "Noah, please."
He smirks as he pushes her further into the house. "I love it when you beg."
"Stop it." She laughs again and pulls away from him, clutching her towel to her body. "Can you control yourself for five minutes?" He raises his brow and looks at her. "Of course not. I'm just going to change. Stay here."
He stays for about two seconds and then follows her, and she tries to close the bathroom door in his face, but he walks in before she can. Then he lifts her up onto the counter and kisses her until she really can't stop him (and doesn't want to). She wants him as badly as he wants her, and there's no denying that. So when he tugs her bathing suit bottoms down her legs and hauls her to the edge of the counter, she throws her arms around his neck and looks down as he unzips his jeans.
Maybe their friends will figure out what they're doing, but when he's murmuring in her ear everything she makes him feel when he's inside her, she really can't find it in her to care.
... ... ...
Their first night camping, Rachel doesn't drink at all until Puck hands her a beer and reminds her (gruffly in her ear, and maybe he licks the lobe a bit) how delicious she thinks it is. She agrees and watches him twist off the cap and toss it into the campfire. She was cold, so she's wearing his sweatshirt and she's all curled up with her knees against her chest on her chair. Puck and most of the guys are standing around while the girls sit around the fire and make marshmallows and s'mores for everyone. Rachel just sips her beer and keeps one hand tucked into his sweater.
He's having a really hard time concentrating when she's sipping his favourite kind of beer, wearing his sweatshirt, and being all quiet and stuff. He thinks maybe there's something going on with her, but she's not talking to him about it. That really isn't weird, because they don't talk about that kind of shit. They talk, of course, but not about like, issues and stuff.
Well after dark, when Finn and Emily are sitting together on the ground around the fire, all cuddled up, and Tina is sitting on Artie's lap with her head resting against his. Matt and Quinn are talking quietly together, both of them sipping water. They've been inching towards something all summer long after their respective relationships ended in the spring, and Puck's fucking sick of watching them dance around one another. Santana and Brittany are playing drunk, mostly-in-the-dark soccer with Mike. Mercedes and Kurt have already gone to their tent for the night, since they want to get up early and make everyone breakfast.
So Puck leans down from where he's been standing behind Rachel. He slides his hands down her arms and kisses her cheek. It's weird, because he doesn't ever really do anything like that, not even when they're alone. Right now, other people are looking at them, and he doesn't really care.
"Let's go for a walk," he says.
She tips her head back, gives him this tiny little smile and nods her head. She sets her empty bottle on the ground and gets up. He appreciates the way it looks like she's wearing nothing but his sweater, since it's so long and covers her shorts. Once they're far enough away from the group and heading for the path he knows leads into the woods, he wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer to him. It's pretty clear, though, that the girl who doesn't ever stop talking isn't going to say anything.
"What's wrong?" he asks, and she shakes her head. He stops walking. "Rachel." He hears her breath hitch, and even though she's looking down, he thinks she's crying. "What?"
"I don't want to talk about it," she says quietly. He puts a hand on her cheek and tilts her head up. "You'll just..." She shakes her head again. "I'm fine."
"You're crying, and you've been quiet all day," he tells her. "You're not fine. Spill. We're not going anywhere until you talk."
She actually smiles at him and steps closer, hugging him for a second before pulling away and starting to walk again. "My dads are in the middle of this huge fight," she finally says. "Daddy left yesterday."
"What?" he asks. Shit. Her family is basically the most normal one he knows, other than the Jones', who are practically the Huxtables, V.2.0. He sticks his hands in his pockets, because her arms are crossed and she's about a foot away from him, and he doesn't know what to do with them if he's not touching her.
"I guess their relationship was strained all year with me being gone, and they just got into this yelling match yesterday. Daddy just threw some things into a bag and said he was going to Bubbie's."
"Well, he's coming back, right?" Puck asks. Maybe it's a stupid question, but maybe she knows the answer. She shrugs her shoulder. "Shit."
"I wasn't going to come, but Dad told me it was fine and he didn't want me staying home and missing out," she says. She looks over at him as he nods. "I'm sorry. This is totally bringing you down."
"Shut up," he says. "I mean it's fine."
"I'm just really scared they won't work it out," she admits quietly. She sniffles a little bit, so he moves closer to her and pulls her into a hug, lets her wrap her arms around him. He runs his hand through her hair a bit until she pulls away.
"They'll work it out," he insists. She looks up at him all hopeful and stuff. "I mean, I don't know them all that well, but they seem like good dudes. You know, in love and stuff." She smiles and shakes her head. He thinks he's failing hard at making her feel better. "Couples who've been together that long don't just break up like that."
"But they've been fighting."
"It happens," he tells her seriously. He's not trying to be a dick. "Everything'll be fine, Rachel."
She wraps her arms around him again and leans up to kiss him. It's just light, and he doesn't even try to slip her the tongue or anything. She doesn't need that right now, and he's not a total asshole.
"Thank you, Noah," she says. He lets out a noise from his throat as he hugs her.
They walk a little further, mostly quietly, and he realizes he's holding her hand. He's pretty sure he took it, too. She didn't try to be all sneaky and shit and put her hand in his. He likes it, actually. He gets her smiling a bit and makes her laugh a couple times. He steals a couple kisses and totally jokingly (seriously) suggests he fuck her against a tree. "Just to make you feel better," he says, and she tells him she feels fine. He grabs her by the front of the pocket of the sweater she's wearing and tugs her towards him, kisses her before they get back to their campsite. Everyone is already in for the night, so he throws some water and dirt on what's left of the campfire. When he gets into their tent, he sees Rachel sitting indian-style in just his sweater and a pair of panties. Her shorts and bra are folded on top of her bag, and she's pulling her hair up into a ponytail.
"I'm really tired," she tells him, and he knows that's code for 'not gonna happen tonight'. He doesn't even think he's mad about it. She's feeling all vulnerable and shit, and he's not even going to try to go there. She shoots him a look when she realizes he's zipped together their sleeping bags so they're basically in one big sleeping bag. "Well, no one can say you aren't resourceful."
He pulls his shirt over his head. "That's right," he grins, reaching for the zipper of his jeans. "You saw how fast I put this shit up today."
"You're a regular Boy Scout," she says, giggling as she tucks her legs into the sleeping bag. He slips in behind her and rests his hand on her hip beneath her sweater so his fingers are laying over the band at the side of her panties. "It's cold."
"Why do you think I'm so close?"
"Are you saying you wouldn't be anyway?" she asks, glancing at him over her shoulder.
"Naw, I just have an excuse now," he says. He kisses her temple and makes sure the sleeping bag is tucked up around them as close as possible.
"You don't need an excuse," she admits quietly. He squeezes her hip and he can't really be sure, but he probably falls asleep with a smile on his face.
...Part II...