You Go Good With Me
Title: You Go Good With Me
Summary: Basically, Puck hates Rachel's dress at her party.
Chapter: 1/1
Warning: Bad words.
Character: Drunk!Puck/Drunk!Rachel
Word Count: not a lot.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
He finds her in the kitchen when he's wandering. It's hard to miss her in that dress, even if he's drunk and also wearing Lauren's glasses. They're killing his eyes, but whatever, it's funny and it means she can follow him around less 'cause she can't see for shit without 'em and she's being annoying tonight. He knew this would happen. Of course she'd be the fighty girl. Fighting's kinda her thing.
Rachel's singing to herself, some Aerosmith song and it sounds good to him. He watches her for a second as she cuts bread. He doesn't know why she's doing it, exactly, but it's cool and she looks hot as fuck when she puts a piece in her mouth and closes her lips around her finger before she pulls it out. Her eyes are closed, too. Damn.
"Hey," he says. He doesn't even realize he's said it until she turns around to look at him. Her hair's kind of messy and her makeup looks better now than it did when she left the basement, but it's still not all that great.
"Take those off," she giggles, pointing at his face.
He pushes the glasses up onto his head and gets an eyeful whatever you call it that she's wearing. "Take that off."
She pulls her dress up a little at the thigh and fakes him out, makes him think she's actually going to pull it off, then drops it and asks, "What's wrong?"
"It's ugly. You're not."
She smiles all wide and tilts her head so her ear is pressed against her shoulder. "You called me hot, didn't you?"
He laughs. He can't really remember that far back, but yeah, it rings a bell. "Yeah."
"You think I'm hot?"
He shrugs his shoulder. She doesn't seem to get told it enough, which is dumb. He drains his cup and sets it down on the counter and she eats another little bit of bread. He walks up to her and stands behind her, doesn't really touch her, except she sways a little on her feet and bumps back into him.
"Yeah, you're hot," he says quietly. "Not in this dress." He plays with the ruffle of the thing and she bats his hand away, or tries. Really, she just ends up swinging her hand around and he laughs and stops. "C'mon."
"What?" She leans back against him and he smells her hair a little.
"Let's find something else."
"Are you trying to get me alone?" she giggles.
Well, he wasn't until she started giving him ideas.
"Let's go."
It's not an answer to his question, but she lets him weave their fingers together and puts her head against his arm as they walk to the stairs and up to her room.
Yeah, he could go back to the party. Lauren's probably going to kick his ass for leaving her alone, and Quinn's been jumping down his throat all night about ancient history. Finn's acting like a smug bastard and will probably do the fucked up math and see that Puck and Rachel are both missing, but whatever. Puck doesn't care when Rachel's pushing open the door to her room and then closing it behind her once he's inside with her. She never closes the door when he's over. Actually, that's a house rule that she's totally breaking, but her dads are away, so who gives a fuck?
"What do you like, then?"
He could think of a lot of things.
He locks the door when she's not looking and wishes he'd brought more alcohol up here.
"I like everything," he says. She spins around and her dress practically devours her. "Except that."
"Help me!" she pouts, stomping a foot. He laughs and walks over to her, holding out his hand to steady himself when he stumbles and almost falls onto the bed. "Which one?"
She's got a fucking hundred dresses. They're all cute. Why the fuck she'd pick this one, he has no clue.
"Here," he says. One of his hands is at the small of her back and the other is reaching for probably his favourite dress of hers. It's short and has these little straps and it's plaid.
She starts shaking her head slowly, side to side, which must make her dizzy, because she backs up into his hand a little, so naturally, he slips it lower on her body and almost touches her ass. "Too cold. But that's cute."
"My favourite," he says, leaning over to kiss her cheek. She giggles and fuck.
He needs this girl somehow. However he can get her, he needs her right now.
He picks two more dresses and she picks stupid reasons to not wear them, and honestly, he just wants her undressed at this point. This stupid thing she's wearing is hurting his eyes, and he can't...
"Unzip it," she says after a second. She pulls her hair aside. It takes her a couple tries, but she gets it. "Puck," she whines.
He laughs and stands behind her, and he'd ask if she's wearing stuff underneath but feeling around for it is more fun. He slides his hand across her back to find her bra, then lower to make sure she's wearing panties. She's Rachel, so of course she is.
"My zipper is up here," she says sleepily, turning her head and pointing to the zipper in the middle of her back.
"I know."
"Aren't you an expert at this part?" she asks, laughing.
"Not lately," he mumbles. He starts tugging the zipper down and she's looking at him with a weird expression on her face. "Lauren's scared of me or something. I don't know."
"Scared?" she giggles. This girl's fucking cute when she's drunk. She's also leaning back against him and he's digging that, the way she feels pressed against him, even if it's kind of stopping him from getting her naked. "Why? You're not scary."
"Not to you," he says. He pulls the zipper down the rest of the way and pushes her forward a little so he can admire her back, mostly bare, because he fully expects her to get something else to wear and then make him close his eyes and stuff so he can't see her changing. "You like me."
"Do not."
"Do too."
She turns around and her dress is falling down off her shoulders, showing the straps of her white bra to him. "Okay, a little," she concedes, eyes on his. He smiles a bit. "You called me a princess."
He laughs and seriously wants to kiss her. She's the cutest drunk girl in the universe right now.
Then she peels her dress down off her arms and her panties match her bra, and he's never found her more gorgeous. Not just 'cause she's mostly naked either, but 'cause she's like, free. She's not worried about what he or anyone else thinks of her. She's just standing in front of him in her panties like it's not fucking crazy and out of character for her to do that shit. Not that he minds or anything. It's sexy and she's sexy and he wants her really bad.
Fine. He'll admit it. He wants her. He wants her all the time. When he heard her dads were away, the first thing he wanted to do was ask her if she wanted to hang. He knew she'd say no, though, 'cause she's all about Finn still, even though the dude doesn't want her and stuff. Puck doesn't like being shot down when he can avoid it.
(Funny that he's doing the Lauren thing, then.)
Rachel's standing in front of him so he's going to focus on that.
She tugs at the bottom of his shirt and looks up at him. "Can I just wear this?" she asks in a quiet voice that tells him she's going to be falling asleep any second.
So naturally he smiles at her and takes a step backwards, grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head. She's licking her lips when he looks at her again, but he ignores it and just holds out his shirt for her to take. She smiles at him and pushes her hair off her face with both hands. He expects her to pull it on herself, but she raises her arms and he takes a good look at her body like this before he pulls the shirt down her arms and tugs it down over her head.
It's way big on her, obviously, but she looks better than she has all night or maybe ever.
She pushes her hands out the sleeves then grabs the front of the shirt and holds it to her face as she looks up at him. "I like your cologne."
It's some kind of miracle that he's not pushing her onto her bed right now. "Yeah?"
She nods and puts one hand on his side, and he remembers, only when her hand touches it, that he's still wearing his undershirt. "It's spicy."
He'd laugh, but this thing they have happening here isn't funny. It's way more sexy than it is funny.
She forgets to let go of his shirt or something and ends up pulling him with her to the bed, where she sits down and then twists the bottom of his shirt around her index finger.
"I'm a bad hostess."
He smiles down at her. "No one cares."
She smiles at him and moves so she's laying back against the pillows. His shirt barely comes to mid-thigh on her and she looks fucking hot. He can see her bra and panties through the fabric and it looks really, really good against her skin. He thinks almost everything would. Except for what she was wearing earlier. Not that.
"Come here," she pouts, and he was kind of planning on it anyway, but it's nice to know how badly she wants him to. As soon as he's laying next to her, she wiggles around and pushes herself next to him, and he lifts his arm so he can put it around her, and she lays her head half on his chest. He doesn't mind.
"You're cuddly," he tells her, even if she already probably knows.
"You're warm." He wants to get a blanket for them, but he also doesn't want to move. "Finn said I'm the annoying clingy drunk girl or something like that."
He scoffs. Finn would. "Idiot." She giggles a little again, and seriously, she needs to stop doing that if she wants to keep wearing clothes. "You're not."
"I'm not?" She yawns and he moves away from her so he can unfold the blanket from the end of her bed and pull it over the two of them. She's curled up to him again as soon as he's laying down.
"I don't mind you like this," he tells her. She smiles and moves closer, pushes her leg up over his a little so her knee is resting on top of his thigh. "Or ever."
She lets out a little noise and snuggles against him, squirming a little and rubbing her cheek against him. He doesn't mind. His fingers tangle in the ends of her messy hair and he sets his other hand over her ribs on top of his shirt, and it's perfect like this with her. He doesn't know how drunk he has to be to think that. Actually, probably not drunk at all.
"I like you," she finally admits.
"I know, baby," he says quietly, and he'd kiss her hair if he didn't think she'd freak out.
She's asleep anyway when he looks at her, and he ignores the knock at the door that comes a few minutes later, switches off the lights and lets himself fall asleep with a pretty girl in his arms, and doesn't give a too much of a damn about anything that's going to happen in the morning.
Summary: Basically, Puck hates Rachel's dress at her party.
Chapter: 1/1
Warning: Bad words.
Character: Drunk!Puck/Drunk!Rachel
Word Count: not a lot.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
He finds her in the kitchen when he's wandering. It's hard to miss her in that dress, even if he's drunk and also wearing Lauren's glasses. They're killing his eyes, but whatever, it's funny and it means she can follow him around less 'cause she can't see for shit without 'em and she's being annoying tonight. He knew this would happen. Of course she'd be the fighty girl. Fighting's kinda her thing.
Rachel's singing to herself, some Aerosmith song and it sounds good to him. He watches her for a second as she cuts bread. He doesn't know why she's doing it, exactly, but it's cool and she looks hot as fuck when she puts a piece in her mouth and closes her lips around her finger before she pulls it out. Her eyes are closed, too. Damn.
"Hey," he says. He doesn't even realize he's said it until she turns around to look at him. Her hair's kind of messy and her makeup looks better now than it did when she left the basement, but it's still not all that great.
"Take those off," she giggles, pointing at his face.
He pushes the glasses up onto his head and gets an eyeful whatever you call it that she's wearing. "Take that off."
She pulls her dress up a little at the thigh and fakes him out, makes him think she's actually going to pull it off, then drops it and asks, "What's wrong?"
"It's ugly. You're not."
She smiles all wide and tilts her head so her ear is pressed against her shoulder. "You called me hot, didn't you?"
He laughs. He can't really remember that far back, but yeah, it rings a bell. "Yeah."
"You think I'm hot?"
He shrugs his shoulder. She doesn't seem to get told it enough, which is dumb. He drains his cup and sets it down on the counter and she eats another little bit of bread. He walks up to her and stands behind her, doesn't really touch her, except she sways a little on her feet and bumps back into him.
"Yeah, you're hot," he says quietly. "Not in this dress." He plays with the ruffle of the thing and she bats his hand away, or tries. Really, she just ends up swinging her hand around and he laughs and stops. "C'mon."
"What?" She leans back against him and he smells her hair a little.
"Let's find something else."
"Are you trying to get me alone?" she giggles.
Well, he wasn't until she started giving him ideas.
"Let's go."
It's not an answer to his question, but she lets him weave their fingers together and puts her head against his arm as they walk to the stairs and up to her room.
Yeah, he could go back to the party. Lauren's probably going to kick his ass for leaving her alone, and Quinn's been jumping down his throat all night about ancient history. Finn's acting like a smug bastard and will probably do the fucked up math and see that Puck and Rachel are both missing, but whatever. Puck doesn't care when Rachel's pushing open the door to her room and then closing it behind her once he's inside with her. She never closes the door when he's over. Actually, that's a house rule that she's totally breaking, but her dads are away, so who gives a fuck?
"What do you like, then?"
He could think of a lot of things.
He locks the door when she's not looking and wishes he'd brought more alcohol up here.
"I like everything," he says. She spins around and her dress practically devours her. "Except that."
"Help me!" she pouts, stomping a foot. He laughs and walks over to her, holding out his hand to steady himself when he stumbles and almost falls onto the bed. "Which one?"
She's got a fucking hundred dresses. They're all cute. Why the fuck she'd pick this one, he has no clue.
"Here," he says. One of his hands is at the small of her back and the other is reaching for probably his favourite dress of hers. It's short and has these little straps and it's plaid.
She starts shaking her head slowly, side to side, which must make her dizzy, because she backs up into his hand a little, so naturally, he slips it lower on her body and almost touches her ass. "Too cold. But that's cute."
"My favourite," he says, leaning over to kiss her cheek. She giggles and fuck.
He needs this girl somehow. However he can get her, he needs her right now.
He picks two more dresses and she picks stupid reasons to not wear them, and honestly, he just wants her undressed at this point. This stupid thing she's wearing is hurting his eyes, and he can't...
"Unzip it," she says after a second. She pulls her hair aside. It takes her a couple tries, but she gets it. "Puck," she whines.
He laughs and stands behind her, and he'd ask if she's wearing stuff underneath but feeling around for it is more fun. He slides his hand across her back to find her bra, then lower to make sure she's wearing panties. She's Rachel, so of course she is.
"My zipper is up here," she says sleepily, turning her head and pointing to the zipper in the middle of her back.
"I know."
"Aren't you an expert at this part?" she asks, laughing.
"Not lately," he mumbles. He starts tugging the zipper down and she's looking at him with a weird expression on her face. "Lauren's scared of me or something. I don't know."
"Scared?" she giggles. This girl's fucking cute when she's drunk. She's also leaning back against him and he's digging that, the way she feels pressed against him, even if it's kind of stopping him from getting her naked. "Why? You're not scary."
"Not to you," he says. He pulls the zipper down the rest of the way and pushes her forward a little so he can admire her back, mostly bare, because he fully expects her to get something else to wear and then make him close his eyes and stuff so he can't see her changing. "You like me."
"Do not."
"Do too."
She turns around and her dress is falling down off her shoulders, showing the straps of her white bra to him. "Okay, a little," she concedes, eyes on his. He smiles a bit. "You called me a princess."
He laughs and seriously wants to kiss her. She's the cutest drunk girl in the universe right now.
Then she peels her dress down off her arms and her panties match her bra, and he's never found her more gorgeous. Not just 'cause she's mostly naked either, but 'cause she's like, free. She's not worried about what he or anyone else thinks of her. She's just standing in front of him in her panties like it's not fucking crazy and out of character for her to do that shit. Not that he minds or anything. It's sexy and she's sexy and he wants her really bad.
Fine. He'll admit it. He wants her. He wants her all the time. When he heard her dads were away, the first thing he wanted to do was ask her if she wanted to hang. He knew she'd say no, though, 'cause she's all about Finn still, even though the dude doesn't want her and stuff. Puck doesn't like being shot down when he can avoid it.
(Funny that he's doing the Lauren thing, then.)
Rachel's standing in front of him so he's going to focus on that.
She tugs at the bottom of his shirt and looks up at him. "Can I just wear this?" she asks in a quiet voice that tells him she's going to be falling asleep any second.
So naturally he smiles at her and takes a step backwards, grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head. She's licking her lips when he looks at her again, but he ignores it and just holds out his shirt for her to take. She smiles at him and pushes her hair off her face with both hands. He expects her to pull it on herself, but she raises her arms and he takes a good look at her body like this before he pulls the shirt down her arms and tugs it down over her head.
It's way big on her, obviously, but she looks better than she has all night or maybe ever.
She pushes her hands out the sleeves then grabs the front of the shirt and holds it to her face as she looks up at him. "I like your cologne."
It's some kind of miracle that he's not pushing her onto her bed right now. "Yeah?"
She nods and puts one hand on his side, and he remembers, only when her hand touches it, that he's still wearing his undershirt. "It's spicy."
He'd laugh, but this thing they have happening here isn't funny. It's way more sexy than it is funny.
She forgets to let go of his shirt or something and ends up pulling him with her to the bed, where she sits down and then twists the bottom of his shirt around her index finger.
"I'm a bad hostess."
He smiles down at her. "No one cares."
She smiles at him and moves so she's laying back against the pillows. His shirt barely comes to mid-thigh on her and she looks fucking hot. He can see her bra and panties through the fabric and it looks really, really good against her skin. He thinks almost everything would. Except for what she was wearing earlier. Not that.
"Come here," she pouts, and he was kind of planning on it anyway, but it's nice to know how badly she wants him to. As soon as he's laying next to her, she wiggles around and pushes herself next to him, and he lifts his arm so he can put it around her, and she lays her head half on his chest. He doesn't mind.
"You're cuddly," he tells her, even if she already probably knows.
"You're warm." He wants to get a blanket for them, but he also doesn't want to move. "Finn said I'm the annoying clingy drunk girl or something like that."
He scoffs. Finn would. "Idiot." She giggles a little again, and seriously, she needs to stop doing that if she wants to keep wearing clothes. "You're not."
"I'm not?" She yawns and he moves away from her so he can unfold the blanket from the end of her bed and pull it over the two of them. She's curled up to him again as soon as he's laying down.
"I don't mind you like this," he tells her. She smiles and moves closer, pushes her leg up over his a little so her knee is resting on top of his thigh. "Or ever."
She lets out a little noise and snuggles against him, squirming a little and rubbing her cheek against him. He doesn't mind. His fingers tangle in the ends of her messy hair and he sets his other hand over her ribs on top of his shirt, and it's perfect like this with her. He doesn't know how drunk he has to be to think that. Actually, probably not drunk at all.
"I like you," she finally admits.
"I know, baby," he says quietly, and he'd kiss her hair if he didn't think she'd freak out.
She's asleep anyway when he looks at her, and he ignores the knock at the door that comes a few minutes later, switches off the lights and lets himself fall asleep with a pretty girl in his arms, and doesn't give a too much of a damn about anything that's going to happen in the morning.