This game we play - Puck/Quinn fic
Story Title: This Game We Play
Author: split_the_ocean
Pairing/Characters: Puck/Quinn
Rating: PG
Word Count: 665
Spoilers: Through "Sectionals" alhtough you should be alright if you know about Drizzle
Summary: A short glimpse of the Quick relationship
It’s a game that they play. A sick game of touch and go, a messy, ruthless game of tug-of-war. One day she’s winning and then the next, he’s stronger than her and she stumbles a few feet closer to him. She can usually manage to regain her balance before she goes tumbling headfirst into him, before he can really win.
It’s a dangerous game that they play, with hearts and stares and souls.
~ ~ ~
Quinn sits on the riser in the choir room, cold metal presses firmly against her thighs and she’s wincing because watching Finn and Rachel making moon-eyes at each other while they sing some new song makes her feel a bit like the corner piece to the puzzle that is her heart is missing.
Then she feels Puck’s foot slide next to hers and this one touch from him shatters the whole puzzle and pieces are falling everywhere. It scares her because she doesn’t even hate it. It might even feel nice, refreshing.
She pulls her foot away slightly and most of the pieces flit back together.
She sits up straighter and shifts closer to Kurt beside her. More pieces fall away and she wonders how much more her heart can possibly take.
She feels Puck’s eyes on the side of her face and she thinks that it’s probably not too much more.
~ ~ ~
Pucks sits alone in his room with his guitar on his lap. He’s not playing.
He thinks about how Quinn looked today and how her hair looked when it wasn’t in that strict ponytail, it reminded him of how it had looked splayed out like a golden halo as he moved over her.
He shifts his feet and they make dark marks in the carpet and he can see every move he makes.
He thinks of how her fingers felt when they brushed his as she handed him… something, anything, they were warmer than he remembered and its like there’s a whole sun filling up her being and every time she brushed against him he can feel some slip into his soul and light up his heart.
He thinks of a bay with blonde ringlets and a toddler strumming a small guitar and young girl wearing a cheerleading outfit and smiling at him with his eyes and her mouth.
He thinks of the name Clementine. He thinks of all the possibilities.
~ ~ ~
She’s stacking chairs by herself at the end of glee rehearsal when she slips and falls. She breathes out sharply and struggles to sit up when she feels a tiny foot push against her taut skin. A tiny foot that will soon be wearing socks and pushing against the ground.
She can feel someone behind her entering the room, pausing, then, in a rush of colour and sound, there are arms hovering around her face and arms and his face is all she can see.
He’s worried, she can tell, but she’s annoyed so she tries to scowl at him, but then the foot nudges against her again and she gasps instead.
Puck stumbles over words of concern and worry but she just says his name, Puck, and he shuts up.
She takes his hand and pushes it up to where the foot had last kicked. Quinn looks into his face and her fragmented heart seems to explode all over again, but this time she lets it happen. It feels good.
The baby, their baby, nudges her stomach and his hand twitches under hers.
He looks up into her eyes and his smile might be the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
Pucks opens his mouth to speak but what comes out sounds more like a sigh, a gasp of wonder.
And sitting there, on the floor of the choir room, with Noah Puckerman bent over her and their hands piled on top of her tight belly; Quinn feels the games slip away.
No one wins.
Or maybe they both do.
AN: Comments are always nice... :D xx
Author: split_the_ocean
Pairing/Characters: Puck/Quinn
Rating: PG
Word Count: 665
Spoilers: Through "Sectionals" alhtough you should be alright if you know about Drizzle
Summary: A short glimpse of the Quick relationship
It’s a game that they play. A sick game of touch and go, a messy, ruthless game of tug-of-war. One day she’s winning and then the next, he’s stronger than her and she stumbles a few feet closer to him. She can usually manage to regain her balance before she goes tumbling headfirst into him, before he can really win.
It’s a dangerous game that they play, with hearts and stares and souls.
~ ~ ~
Quinn sits on the riser in the choir room, cold metal presses firmly against her thighs and she’s wincing because watching Finn and Rachel making moon-eyes at each other while they sing some new song makes her feel a bit like the corner piece to the puzzle that is her heart is missing.
Then she feels Puck’s foot slide next to hers and this one touch from him shatters the whole puzzle and pieces are falling everywhere. It scares her because she doesn’t even hate it. It might even feel nice, refreshing.
She pulls her foot away slightly and most of the pieces flit back together.
She sits up straighter and shifts closer to Kurt beside her. More pieces fall away and she wonders how much more her heart can possibly take.
She feels Puck’s eyes on the side of her face and she thinks that it’s probably not too much more.
~ ~ ~
Pucks sits alone in his room with his guitar on his lap. He’s not playing.
He thinks about how Quinn looked today and how her hair looked when it wasn’t in that strict ponytail, it reminded him of how it had looked splayed out like a golden halo as he moved over her.
He shifts his feet and they make dark marks in the carpet and he can see every move he makes.
He thinks of how her fingers felt when they brushed his as she handed him… something, anything, they were warmer than he remembered and its like there’s a whole sun filling up her being and every time she brushed against him he can feel some slip into his soul and light up his heart.
He thinks of a bay with blonde ringlets and a toddler strumming a small guitar and young girl wearing a cheerleading outfit and smiling at him with his eyes and her mouth.
He thinks of the name Clementine. He thinks of all the possibilities.
~ ~ ~
She’s stacking chairs by herself at the end of glee rehearsal when she slips and falls. She breathes out sharply and struggles to sit up when she feels a tiny foot push against her taut skin. A tiny foot that will soon be wearing socks and pushing against the ground.
She can feel someone behind her entering the room, pausing, then, in a rush of colour and sound, there are arms hovering around her face and arms and his face is all she can see.
He’s worried, she can tell, but she’s annoyed so she tries to scowl at him, but then the foot nudges against her again and she gasps instead.
Puck stumbles over words of concern and worry but she just says his name, Puck, and he shuts up.
She takes his hand and pushes it up to where the foot had last kicked. Quinn looks into his face and her fragmented heart seems to explode all over again, but this time she lets it happen. It feels good.
The baby, their baby, nudges her stomach and his hand twitches under hers.
He looks up into her eyes and his smile might be the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
Pucks opens his mouth to speak but what comes out sounds more like a sigh, a gasp of wonder.
And sitting there, on the floor of the choir room, with Noah Puckerman bent over her and their hands piled on top of her tight belly; Quinn feels the games slip away.
No one wins.
Or maybe they both do.
AN: Comments are always nice... :D xx