FIC: Glee Club Auction in Reverse
This... is... I don't even know. This comes from people commenting on the previous Glee Club Auction prompt fic I wrote where Rachel bid on Puck after discovering she had feelings for him that they'd like to see a reversal of roles, where Rachel is up for auction and Puck gets pissed off. I'm not sure if this is what you guys were hoping for... but this is what came out. It's long, yo, and swearing abounds, so... if you're offended... stop reading right now because Puck swears like a sailor, and so do I. (Match made in heaven? Yes.)
Funnily enough, this wasn't even what I had intended on working on today. I wanted to write the fic for Comfortable and dfill the prompt for "Dear heart, why him?" ... And then this happened.
He’s pretty fuckin’ glad this new fundraising idea doesn’t involve something that means he has to bake magic muffins just to get some decent cash. And it doesn’t really involve him having to do much of anything, which is even better. All he’s gonna donate is a few mixed CD’s for the girls to dance around to on the stage, and he’s already got a few ideas. (Stripper by the Soho Dolls, for example, has gotta be the most epic song for a girl auction where Santana is pretty much a sure thing when it comes to removing her clothes for extra bucks. No lie, that’s probably what the bitch will do after high school to pay her way through law school, or whatever the fuck she has planned.)
So he gets to basically sit back, watch hot girls parade around as money flies onto the stage, and listen to some kick ass music. It’s like a fantasy, really, except for the fact that Hummel wants to parade with the girls, and that’s a little weird, creepy, and he’s not entirely sure he’s down to see that.
It’s also gonna mean a decent flow of cash for cool costumes and shit for Regional’s, since there’s a lot of desperate dudes at McKinley, and this gives them a chance to make their wet dreams a fantasy. That creeper Ben Israel legit has a countdown going on his blog, which has Berry’s panties in a twist, and Hudson is practically sweating over which girl to bid on, ‘cause he’s like, still in love or whatever with Quinn, who’s into Matt, but he also sexed up San and thought/tried to love Berry so he’s kinda in the middle of a shit storm of not wanting to piss off any of the three girls, and doesn’t know what to do.
Puck told him to bid on Hummel or the black girl, thought it was a pretty fuckin’ funny idea, actually, but Hudson didn’t see it that way, as his eyes flicked between the three girls.
Whatever. All the drama and feathers and shit that is gonna go down is gonna be well worth whatever money they get out of it and the ten minutes it’ll take him to throw together a couple of kick ass mix CDs.
He’s chillin’ with the football team at lunch, trying to convince Rutherford that he needs to bid on Quinn ‘cause otherwise she’ll like, cry or whatever, and he’s seen enough of that chick crying to last him a lifetime, when he catches the name of Rachel Berry being tossed around by a few of the other dudes.
“What about Berry?” He says, and fuck them if they think he’s like, overly interested, or whatever. He’s not. She’s hot and stuff, and they had a pretty good time makin’ out in her bedroom, and he thinks she’s a total sweetheart, but he’s not like, into her. He just doesn’t want them giving her shit, ‘cause he’d have to beat the shit out of them, and ya know, he promised his mom he wasn’t gonna get suspended this year for any more incidents with portaloos or fire extinguishers.
(Legit, he’s trying pretty fuckin’ hard.)
“Thinkin’ she’s pretty fuckin’ hot and one date with her might not be too bad. Be keen to see what else she could do with that mouth of hers.” The douche third string linebacker (and they’re a losing team already, so who the fuck cares about third string) says, and a few of the other guys smirk and nod.
Puck is not clenching his fist under the table.
“You’ve had her, dude, how much is she worth? Ten bucks? Fifteen?”
Rutherford and Chang are giving the loser shut the fuck up looks, and he’s still continuing.
Fucker’s gonna end up in traction if he doesn’t shut his yap.
“If you think you’re gonna win a chick like Rachel with fifteen bucks, DeLorenzo, you got another thing coming. Even I’m gonna bid higher than that for a date with her, she’s one hot girl.” Santana says, accidentally on purpose knocking him across the head with her loaded lunch tray.
Rutherford and Chang snicker as DeLorenzo rubs his head. “Stay the fuck away from what you don’t deserve.” Santana adds, as she walks away, and a few of the guys stop eating to watch the way her skirt moves as she walks.
Puck gets up and leaves; goes to run a few laps to calm down. When he gets to the field, he notices a lone figure up in the bleachers, and fuck you, he is not thinking of “we weren’t friends before” and how much of a dick he felt like when he walked away from a good thing.
He sees Quinn walk up to her and he goes back to running his temper away, running harder once he notices Ben Israel trying to sneak a peek under the bleachers up Rachel’s skirt.
He wonders if he could make it a rule to exclude the creepers who can’t keep control of their hard-ons out of bidding in the auction.
He wonders why he cares. It’s Rachel fuckin’ Berry, and she practically has stock in creepy animal sweatshirts.
But then he thinks about her little hands and the way she bites his lip and giggles when they hook up or whatever, as they did last weekend in Brittany’s brothers bedroom underneath the glow in the dark stars he has stuck to his ceiling.
Pretty damn awesome. He couldn’t have picked a better location if he’d tried.
So anyway. She’s a sweetheart and awesome at kissing and the little skirts she wears are kick ass, and if you tell anyone he’s gonna bury you in a grave, but every time she sings, he gets a little speechless. And a lot turned on.
And that is the reason he sure as fuck doesn’t want a creeper like Ben Israel tryna mack on a girl he’ll never come close to deserving.
He walks over to the girls once he’s finished his run and hauled Jacob out by the back of his shirt and tossed him on the ground. They watch him approach, laughing as Ben Israel tries to find his way out of the back of his shirt, which Puck has thrown over the back of his head, and he’s smirking, ‘cause fuck yeah, he’s awesome.
“’Sup ladies?” he asks as he climbs the steps to meet them. Quinn rolls her eyes and Berry giggles, and shit, she’s cute.
He sits down right in the middle of them, puts an arm around each of them, and turns to Quinn.
“Rutherford’s bidding on ya. You got nothing to worry about.” She smiles big and hugs him. “Told him you’re like, obsessed with him, or whatever, and he was kinda creeped out, but said you’d totally wear a virginal white dress that always gets him hot, and he was down.”
“Noah Puckerman, you better not have!” Quinn shrieks, and Rachel laughs loudly from his other side.
He just winks and starts fiddling with the ends of Rachel’s hair.
It’s nice, okay? And smells good, and she obviously looks after herself. He likes girls that aren’t gonna go all, like, obese, or whatever, once he starts hooking up with them and think it won’t matter if they slob out in front of him once they’ve got him.
Commitments not like a fuckin’ marriage, okay?
“So, Puck. Who are you bidding on?” Quinn asks with an eyebrow wiggle and a pointed look in Rachel’s direction, who is determinedly trying to not look interested in this conversation and fiddling with her skirt.
“Dunno. Wasn’t gonna. Why waste my hard earned money on a club I’m in, anyways? I’m gonna make the music CDs, though, I’ve got that shit locked down.”
The girls both roll their eyes at him. Rachel gets up, says she’ll see them later, and walks off the bleachers and down the stairs. His eyes follow her until she’s out of sight, and then Quinn slaps him across the head.
“What the fuck, woman?” He asks, pissed off.
“Why don’t you just admit you like her?”
“Been there, done that, got turned down, so obviously she’s not too fuckin’ keen. And hookin’ up with her at parties doesn’t mean I like her and wanna like, hold hands and be with her forever, or whatever fairytales you girls come up with at your little movie nights.”
She rolls her eyes. He thinks this means she knows he’s probably full of shit.
“So you’re going to be okay when all the other guys start emptying pockets and wallets and lockers and piggy banks, or whatever, to bid on her because they’ve always secretly thought she was gorgeous and a nice girl and this is their chance to see what it’d be like to have a date with her now that she’s officially single and Finn’s out of the picture? You’re just going to sit there with your probably lame music counting the change that they hand over, and tell her to have a good date? No offence, but you’ve never really been good with the whole jealous/possessive thing. As in, you’re jealous and possessive and don’t want other guys with hands all over your girl. So if you don’t bid, you’re a total jack ass, and she deserves to fall in love with the guy who will actually spend money on her to show her she’s worth it.”
She doesn’t say anything else, just waits for a response, and then huffs as she gets up to go to class when the bell rings.
He stays on the bleachers and tries to nap, since he’s meant to be in like, biology or something, and he fuckin’ knows how bodies work, okay? He’s the man. He’s had hands on experience in lots of age groups. But all he can think of is a nerd like Jacob Ben Israel bidding on Rachel at the auction, going on a date with her, and convincing her to like, fall in love with him, or whatever, and then there’ll be no sneaking into empty rooms to hook up with Rachel as she walks past to find a bathroom, or whatever.
He’s got a bunch of rules to add to the list by the time Glee Club rolls around, and fuck Schue for lookin’ surprised.
--
Friday night finally comes around and he’s definitely not borrowing money from his mom’s cookie jar to bid on anyone in particular. Whatever. If one of the bro’s needs money to bid on their girls, he’s a nice guy, he’s gonna like, help them out, or whatever.
(The five hundred dollars he’s already got in his pocket from a summer of cleaning pools is definitely not to bid on Rachel.)
Finn’s decided he’s gonna think the same way, go without bidding on any particular girl so that he’s not “picking favourites” or whatever the fuck he was going on about earlier.
Puck goes up on stage, reads through the rules, and shoots any of the fuckers he thinks may cause problems a dirty look. He gives Jacob Ben Israel a few extra, just in case.
Then he climbs off the stage, puts on ‘Stripper’ just as Santana walks out, and the bitch pulls the fingers at him. Hey, she’s the one up there wearing a jacket over a bra and a headband for a skirt, so what the fuck ever.
It’s getting rowdy and entertaining as hell as guys keep shouting out different amounts of money, and then finally Finn wins her with money Puck wasn’t expecting him to have. So fuckin’ predictable, there was no way Finn was gonna go home alone tonight.
Brittany comes out dressed in a costume looking confused, and he wants to laugh. A few of the guys bid on her cautiously, ‘cause the thing is, she’s a cool chick and she’s pretty good at kissing and stuff, but at the end of the day, sometimes you just feel like you’re on a date with a kid and you want to like, take her to McDonalds and let her play in the playground, and that’s not really a fun date.
Artie bids a bigger sum of money and she legit smiles so bright at that, Puck knows he’s not the only one smiling back. Fuck you, he’s not a pussy.
So that’s over pretty fast, and Tina goes to Mike in the blink of an eye, ‘cause she’s kinda scary and whatever, and Hummel and Chocolate Thunder bid on each other, probably ‘coz they’re bitchy and weren’t gonna get too many bids anyway. Then it’s Quinn and the crowd gets louder because she’s still the Queen of the fuckin’ McKinley universe, baby or no baby.
They back off once Matt throws down $300 though and they know he’s gonna win it.
Rachel’s last, and he looks around to see which guys look ready to bid. Ben Israel is way too fuckin’ close to the stage with a camera, so Puck sticks his foot out to trip him as soon as he backs up, and it’s pretty amusing.
Rachel comes out and Ben Israel’s programme goes immediately to cover the boner he springs, and the bidding begins fast and furious before Puck can even blink. What. The. Fuck. It’s the chick that wears animal sweaters and weird socks every single day, who the fuck knew so many guys were into that?
All he can hear are Quinn’s words from the other day, and he’s got this pounding in his chest that is legit starting to hurt. If this is what a heart attack feels like, he’s totally down to die for it to be over.
“Show us some leg!” Some prick screams out from behind him, and Puck turns around to punch him in the face. Loser. Thinks he’s all cool being sarcastic and shit, when Berry is pretty damn self-conscious when you know her.
Standing on a stage for guys to bid on her is probably her idea of a worst nightmare, along with never making it to Broadway and not seeing her name in lights. (He listens sometimes, okay? She looks all hot when her lips are moving and pouting and if he concentrates on them, he can picture them pressed against his, and it’s all good, okay?)
The bidding starts slowing down, and there’s no fuckin’ way he’s letting Ben Israel go home with his girl. He waits until Ben Israel counts the last of his change to make a final bid, and then Puck throws in another hundred bucks as Finn looks on in shock.
He wins.
His mom is going to legit love him for this.
“Dude.” Finn says, still opening his mouth and closing it like a fish. “Do you even know where you’re gonna take her? You have to like, take her on a date, you know?”
He rolls his eyes and leaves his best friend behind, heading over to drop off his cash well spent.
Ben Israel comes up to him as he leaves the table. “How much can I pay you for the honour of Rachel Berry’s company tonight on a naked date? Where we are both naked and ultimately end up unleashing our desires?”
Puck blinks once, shoves Ben Israel away, and tells him to stay away from his girl. Emphasis on the his.
He still can’t believe the nerve of that slimy little fucker. As if he was ever going to get a chance to get naked with B even if he’d bid a Tony for her.
“Noah?” Rachel’s voice appears behind him, and he turns around to face her, watching as she bites her lip in nervousness. Fuck, he loves it when she does that. He just wants to lean down and kiss her so bad.
“Hey.” He says, giving her a nod, sliding a hand into his jeans pocket. He’s not nervous, honest.
“Did you really bid on me? Santana said you won, but I feel like this might be some sort of joke she’s playing on me that I don’t entirely understand, being unfamiliar with the sort of colloquial language and teen references she constantly makes.”
“Yep.” He says, and she looks at him as if she’s still waiting for something. “I did. Yeah, I bid on you.” And now he sounds like a douche.
She giggles a little though, and he reaches out for her hand.
“That okay with you?” He asks, and he can’t believe he’s fuckin’ nervous about what she says. Like, if she tells him to go to hell, he thinks he may be pretty damn gutted. And not just ‘cause that’s a lot of money he coulda spent on booze and dip.
She nods once and leans up to plant a kiss on his cheek.
He has to admire the fact that it takes her until they’re in his truck, they’ve fought and agreed on a radio station to listen to, and they’re on their way to the 7-11 before she asks why.
“Why what?”
“Why did you bid on me? You could’ve had any of the girls up for auction tonight, any of those Cheerios.”
“You know why.” He says.
“Do I?” She asks, and the smirk she sends him tells him she knows damn well why but she wants to hear the words. Fuck, she’s been hanging around San too long, she’s turning bitchy.
(He kinda likes it.)
“You do.”
He keeps driving.
“Tell me anyway, Noah, I’d hate to be wrong.”
“Didn’t want any other loser going home with you tonight and taking you on a date and shit.”
“Why not?”
“Fuck you know why. Now you’re just being mean.” He pouts like it’s genuinely hurting his feelings that she’s trying to drag this information out of him.
“It’s not my fault you’re emotionally crippled and don’t use words like normal people.”
“Well you use too many words that no one understands, and that’s not normal either.”
They’re still arguing when he pays for their frozen drinks, and if it wasn’t really fuckin’ funny he’d be ditchin’ her on the side of the road and calling it a night.
“Why can’t you make things easy?” She asks.
“Why do you have to make things so fuckin’ hard?” He replies.
The dirty smirk that crosses her face for a second makes him laugh loudly. He knew there was a dirty mind just waiting to be discovered somewhere inside Rachel Berry, and he’d just found it. Bingo!
“I just don’t want you going out on a date and meeting a guy who maybe deserves you more than a guy with no clue about his future who makes out with you in bathrooms and kitchens and other peoples bedrooms because it might be the only chance and like, I don’t know, falling in love with some douche bag who isn’t a hot Jew. Plus, had to save you from creepers like Jacob Ben Israel who was hard at the mention of your name. Dude was lookin’ to make all his fantasies come true, and you were number one with a bullet.”
“You deserve me because you make me smile and you make my heart beat a little faster and you have yet to break my heart or make me cry or make me feel like I don’t deserve good things or I’m not good enough for your social standing. That means something, Noah. So don’t think you’re not good enough for me, when you treat me better than certain others ever would have.”
“I didn’t really have a plan tonight. I just… didn’t want you to go home with someone else.” He confesses with a shrug.
“I can’t believe you bid all that money, when all you could’ve done was ask me on a date and you would’ve had me. I’ve been waiting since that first summer night when you wrapped me in your sweatshirt and let me sit on your lap and made fun of my tiny bare feet in the backyard at Mike’s. That’s a long time waiting.”
He liked that night. Relaxed Rachel in cut off jean shorts and bare feet, her hair loose in just a little strappy top that made him want to kiss along her shoulders and up the sides of her neck.
(He did it, later, in his truck when he dropped her off, and that’s when this whole ‘hook up in secret’ thing began.)
“Coulda asked me, ya know. ‘Stead of waiting all this time for me to get my act together.”
“I just organised the auction and hoped for the best. And it paid off.”
She’s smiling.
He’s unimpressed.
He’s never been good with losing, and knowing he just spent an insane sum of money so that Rachel could get what she wanted without asking for it really kinda pisses him off.
It’s kinda hot, too though.
“You owe me.” He tells her.
“That’s what I was hoping for.” She replies, and carefully puts her drink down as she slides over the bench seat in his truck onto his lap, kissing him softly.
“I’ve wanted you for far too long.” She whispers against his lips, and he holds her tighter.
They break every auction rule about five minutes later when they establish that there will be a lot of kissing, no actual dinner date, and he drives them to her house where they tumble onto her sheets with giggles and sighs.
Santana shows up the next morning, sees a brief flash of nudity on display as Rachel makes coffee in only Puck’s plaid shirt in her kitchen, and tells them they’re both fined for breaking the rules. Rachel just laughs about it being fun and dutifully hands over her money. Glee Club is a good cause, after all.
Funnily enough, this wasn't even what I had intended on working on today. I wanted to write the fic for Comfortable and dfill the prompt for "Dear heart, why him?" ... And then this happened.
He’s pretty fuckin’ glad this new fundraising idea doesn’t involve something that means he has to bake magic muffins just to get some decent cash. And it doesn’t really involve him having to do much of anything, which is even better. All he’s gonna donate is a few mixed CD’s for the girls to dance around to on the stage, and he’s already got a few ideas. (Stripper by the Soho Dolls, for example, has gotta be the most epic song for a girl auction where Santana is pretty much a sure thing when it comes to removing her clothes for extra bucks. No lie, that’s probably what the bitch will do after high school to pay her way through law school, or whatever the fuck she has planned.)
So he gets to basically sit back, watch hot girls parade around as money flies onto the stage, and listen to some kick ass music. It’s like a fantasy, really, except for the fact that Hummel wants to parade with the girls, and that’s a little weird, creepy, and he’s not entirely sure he’s down to see that.
It’s also gonna mean a decent flow of cash for cool costumes and shit for Regional’s, since there’s a lot of desperate dudes at McKinley, and this gives them a chance to make their wet dreams a fantasy. That creeper Ben Israel legit has a countdown going on his blog, which has Berry’s panties in a twist, and Hudson is practically sweating over which girl to bid on, ‘cause he’s like, still in love or whatever with Quinn, who’s into Matt, but he also sexed up San and thought/tried to love Berry so he’s kinda in the middle of a shit storm of not wanting to piss off any of the three girls, and doesn’t know what to do.
Puck told him to bid on Hummel or the black girl, thought it was a pretty fuckin’ funny idea, actually, but Hudson didn’t see it that way, as his eyes flicked between the three girls.
Whatever. All the drama and feathers and shit that is gonna go down is gonna be well worth whatever money they get out of it and the ten minutes it’ll take him to throw together a couple of kick ass mix CDs.
He’s chillin’ with the football team at lunch, trying to convince Rutherford that he needs to bid on Quinn ‘cause otherwise she’ll like, cry or whatever, and he’s seen enough of that chick crying to last him a lifetime, when he catches the name of Rachel Berry being tossed around by a few of the other dudes.
“What about Berry?” He says, and fuck them if they think he’s like, overly interested, or whatever. He’s not. She’s hot and stuff, and they had a pretty good time makin’ out in her bedroom, and he thinks she’s a total sweetheart, but he’s not like, into her. He just doesn’t want them giving her shit, ‘cause he’d have to beat the shit out of them, and ya know, he promised his mom he wasn’t gonna get suspended this year for any more incidents with portaloos or fire extinguishers.
(Legit, he’s trying pretty fuckin’ hard.)
“Thinkin’ she’s pretty fuckin’ hot and one date with her might not be too bad. Be keen to see what else she could do with that mouth of hers.” The douche third string linebacker (and they’re a losing team already, so who the fuck cares about third string) says, and a few of the other guys smirk and nod.
Puck is not clenching his fist under the table.
“You’ve had her, dude, how much is she worth? Ten bucks? Fifteen?”
Rutherford and Chang are giving the loser shut the fuck up looks, and he’s still continuing.
Fucker’s gonna end up in traction if he doesn’t shut his yap.
“If you think you’re gonna win a chick like Rachel with fifteen bucks, DeLorenzo, you got another thing coming. Even I’m gonna bid higher than that for a date with her, she’s one hot girl.” Santana says, accidentally on purpose knocking him across the head with her loaded lunch tray.
Rutherford and Chang snicker as DeLorenzo rubs his head. “Stay the fuck away from what you don’t deserve.” Santana adds, as she walks away, and a few of the guys stop eating to watch the way her skirt moves as she walks.
Puck gets up and leaves; goes to run a few laps to calm down. When he gets to the field, he notices a lone figure up in the bleachers, and fuck you, he is not thinking of “we weren’t friends before” and how much of a dick he felt like when he walked away from a good thing.
He sees Quinn walk up to her and he goes back to running his temper away, running harder once he notices Ben Israel trying to sneak a peek under the bleachers up Rachel’s skirt.
He wonders if he could make it a rule to exclude the creepers who can’t keep control of their hard-ons out of bidding in the auction.
He wonders why he cares. It’s Rachel fuckin’ Berry, and she practically has stock in creepy animal sweatshirts.
But then he thinks about her little hands and the way she bites his lip and giggles when they hook up or whatever, as they did last weekend in Brittany’s brothers bedroom underneath the glow in the dark stars he has stuck to his ceiling.
Pretty damn awesome. He couldn’t have picked a better location if he’d tried.
So anyway. She’s a sweetheart and awesome at kissing and the little skirts she wears are kick ass, and if you tell anyone he’s gonna bury you in a grave, but every time she sings, he gets a little speechless. And a lot turned on.
And that is the reason he sure as fuck doesn’t want a creeper like Ben Israel tryna mack on a girl he’ll never come close to deserving.
He walks over to the girls once he’s finished his run and hauled Jacob out by the back of his shirt and tossed him on the ground. They watch him approach, laughing as Ben Israel tries to find his way out of the back of his shirt, which Puck has thrown over the back of his head, and he’s smirking, ‘cause fuck yeah, he’s awesome.
“’Sup ladies?” he asks as he climbs the steps to meet them. Quinn rolls her eyes and Berry giggles, and shit, she’s cute.
He sits down right in the middle of them, puts an arm around each of them, and turns to Quinn.
“Rutherford’s bidding on ya. You got nothing to worry about.” She smiles big and hugs him. “Told him you’re like, obsessed with him, or whatever, and he was kinda creeped out, but said you’d totally wear a virginal white dress that always gets him hot, and he was down.”
“Noah Puckerman, you better not have!” Quinn shrieks, and Rachel laughs loudly from his other side.
He just winks and starts fiddling with the ends of Rachel’s hair.
It’s nice, okay? And smells good, and she obviously looks after herself. He likes girls that aren’t gonna go all, like, obese, or whatever, once he starts hooking up with them and think it won’t matter if they slob out in front of him once they’ve got him.
Commitments not like a fuckin’ marriage, okay?
“So, Puck. Who are you bidding on?” Quinn asks with an eyebrow wiggle and a pointed look in Rachel’s direction, who is determinedly trying to not look interested in this conversation and fiddling with her skirt.
“Dunno. Wasn’t gonna. Why waste my hard earned money on a club I’m in, anyways? I’m gonna make the music CDs, though, I’ve got that shit locked down.”
The girls both roll their eyes at him. Rachel gets up, says she’ll see them later, and walks off the bleachers and down the stairs. His eyes follow her until she’s out of sight, and then Quinn slaps him across the head.
“What the fuck, woman?” He asks, pissed off.
“Why don’t you just admit you like her?”
“Been there, done that, got turned down, so obviously she’s not too fuckin’ keen. And hookin’ up with her at parties doesn’t mean I like her and wanna like, hold hands and be with her forever, or whatever fairytales you girls come up with at your little movie nights.”
She rolls her eyes. He thinks this means she knows he’s probably full of shit.
“So you’re going to be okay when all the other guys start emptying pockets and wallets and lockers and piggy banks, or whatever, to bid on her because they’ve always secretly thought she was gorgeous and a nice girl and this is their chance to see what it’d be like to have a date with her now that she’s officially single and Finn’s out of the picture? You’re just going to sit there with your probably lame music counting the change that they hand over, and tell her to have a good date? No offence, but you’ve never really been good with the whole jealous/possessive thing. As in, you’re jealous and possessive and don’t want other guys with hands all over your girl. So if you don’t bid, you’re a total jack ass, and she deserves to fall in love with the guy who will actually spend money on her to show her she’s worth it.”
She doesn’t say anything else, just waits for a response, and then huffs as she gets up to go to class when the bell rings.
He stays on the bleachers and tries to nap, since he’s meant to be in like, biology or something, and he fuckin’ knows how bodies work, okay? He’s the man. He’s had hands on experience in lots of age groups. But all he can think of is a nerd like Jacob Ben Israel bidding on Rachel at the auction, going on a date with her, and convincing her to like, fall in love with him, or whatever, and then there’ll be no sneaking into empty rooms to hook up with Rachel as she walks past to find a bathroom, or whatever.
He’s got a bunch of rules to add to the list by the time Glee Club rolls around, and fuck Schue for lookin’ surprised.
--
Friday night finally comes around and he’s definitely not borrowing money from his mom’s cookie jar to bid on anyone in particular. Whatever. If one of the bro’s needs money to bid on their girls, he’s a nice guy, he’s gonna like, help them out, or whatever.
(The five hundred dollars he’s already got in his pocket from a summer of cleaning pools is definitely not to bid on Rachel.)
Finn’s decided he’s gonna think the same way, go without bidding on any particular girl so that he’s not “picking favourites” or whatever the fuck he was going on about earlier.
Puck goes up on stage, reads through the rules, and shoots any of the fuckers he thinks may cause problems a dirty look. He gives Jacob Ben Israel a few extra, just in case.
Then he climbs off the stage, puts on ‘Stripper’ just as Santana walks out, and the bitch pulls the fingers at him. Hey, she’s the one up there wearing a jacket over a bra and a headband for a skirt, so what the fuck ever.
It’s getting rowdy and entertaining as hell as guys keep shouting out different amounts of money, and then finally Finn wins her with money Puck wasn’t expecting him to have. So fuckin’ predictable, there was no way Finn was gonna go home alone tonight.
Brittany comes out dressed in a costume looking confused, and he wants to laugh. A few of the guys bid on her cautiously, ‘cause the thing is, she’s a cool chick and she’s pretty good at kissing and stuff, but at the end of the day, sometimes you just feel like you’re on a date with a kid and you want to like, take her to McDonalds and let her play in the playground, and that’s not really a fun date.
Artie bids a bigger sum of money and she legit smiles so bright at that, Puck knows he’s not the only one smiling back. Fuck you, he’s not a pussy.
So that’s over pretty fast, and Tina goes to Mike in the blink of an eye, ‘cause she’s kinda scary and whatever, and Hummel and Chocolate Thunder bid on each other, probably ‘coz they’re bitchy and weren’t gonna get too many bids anyway. Then it’s Quinn and the crowd gets louder because she’s still the Queen of the fuckin’ McKinley universe, baby or no baby.
They back off once Matt throws down $300 though and they know he’s gonna win it.
Rachel’s last, and he looks around to see which guys look ready to bid. Ben Israel is way too fuckin’ close to the stage with a camera, so Puck sticks his foot out to trip him as soon as he backs up, and it’s pretty amusing.
Rachel comes out and Ben Israel’s programme goes immediately to cover the boner he springs, and the bidding begins fast and furious before Puck can even blink. What. The. Fuck. It’s the chick that wears animal sweaters and weird socks every single day, who the fuck knew so many guys were into that?
All he can hear are Quinn’s words from the other day, and he’s got this pounding in his chest that is legit starting to hurt. If this is what a heart attack feels like, he’s totally down to die for it to be over.
“Show us some leg!” Some prick screams out from behind him, and Puck turns around to punch him in the face. Loser. Thinks he’s all cool being sarcastic and shit, when Berry is pretty damn self-conscious when you know her.
Standing on a stage for guys to bid on her is probably her idea of a worst nightmare, along with never making it to Broadway and not seeing her name in lights. (He listens sometimes, okay? She looks all hot when her lips are moving and pouting and if he concentrates on them, he can picture them pressed against his, and it’s all good, okay?)
The bidding starts slowing down, and there’s no fuckin’ way he’s letting Ben Israel go home with his girl. He waits until Ben Israel counts the last of his change to make a final bid, and then Puck throws in another hundred bucks as Finn looks on in shock.
He wins.
His mom is going to legit love him for this.
“Dude.” Finn says, still opening his mouth and closing it like a fish. “Do you even know where you’re gonna take her? You have to like, take her on a date, you know?”
He rolls his eyes and leaves his best friend behind, heading over to drop off his cash well spent.
Ben Israel comes up to him as he leaves the table. “How much can I pay you for the honour of Rachel Berry’s company tonight on a naked date? Where we are both naked and ultimately end up unleashing our desires?”
Puck blinks once, shoves Ben Israel away, and tells him to stay away from his girl. Emphasis on the his.
He still can’t believe the nerve of that slimy little fucker. As if he was ever going to get a chance to get naked with B even if he’d bid a Tony for her.
“Noah?” Rachel’s voice appears behind him, and he turns around to face her, watching as she bites her lip in nervousness. Fuck, he loves it when she does that. He just wants to lean down and kiss her so bad.
“Hey.” He says, giving her a nod, sliding a hand into his jeans pocket. He’s not nervous, honest.
“Did you really bid on me? Santana said you won, but I feel like this might be some sort of joke she’s playing on me that I don’t entirely understand, being unfamiliar with the sort of colloquial language and teen references she constantly makes.”
“Yep.” He says, and she looks at him as if she’s still waiting for something. “I did. Yeah, I bid on you.” And now he sounds like a douche.
She giggles a little though, and he reaches out for her hand.
“That okay with you?” He asks, and he can’t believe he’s fuckin’ nervous about what she says. Like, if she tells him to go to hell, he thinks he may be pretty damn gutted. And not just ‘cause that’s a lot of money he coulda spent on booze and dip.
She nods once and leans up to plant a kiss on his cheek.
He has to admire the fact that it takes her until they’re in his truck, they’ve fought and agreed on a radio station to listen to, and they’re on their way to the 7-11 before she asks why.
“Why what?”
“Why did you bid on me? You could’ve had any of the girls up for auction tonight, any of those Cheerios.”
“You know why.” He says.
“Do I?” She asks, and the smirk she sends him tells him she knows damn well why but she wants to hear the words. Fuck, she’s been hanging around San too long, she’s turning bitchy.
(He kinda likes it.)
“You do.”
He keeps driving.
“Tell me anyway, Noah, I’d hate to be wrong.”
“Didn’t want any other loser going home with you tonight and taking you on a date and shit.”
“Why not?”
“Fuck you know why. Now you’re just being mean.” He pouts like it’s genuinely hurting his feelings that she’s trying to drag this information out of him.
“It’s not my fault you’re emotionally crippled and don’t use words like normal people.”
“Well you use too many words that no one understands, and that’s not normal either.”
They’re still arguing when he pays for their frozen drinks, and if it wasn’t really fuckin’ funny he’d be ditchin’ her on the side of the road and calling it a night.
“Why can’t you make things easy?” She asks.
“Why do you have to make things so fuckin’ hard?” He replies.
The dirty smirk that crosses her face for a second makes him laugh loudly. He knew there was a dirty mind just waiting to be discovered somewhere inside Rachel Berry, and he’d just found it. Bingo!
“I just don’t want you going out on a date and meeting a guy who maybe deserves you more than a guy with no clue about his future who makes out with you in bathrooms and kitchens and other peoples bedrooms because it might be the only chance and like, I don’t know, falling in love with some douche bag who isn’t a hot Jew. Plus, had to save you from creepers like Jacob Ben Israel who was hard at the mention of your name. Dude was lookin’ to make all his fantasies come true, and you were number one with a bullet.”
“You deserve me because you make me smile and you make my heart beat a little faster and you have yet to break my heart or make me cry or make me feel like I don’t deserve good things or I’m not good enough for your social standing. That means something, Noah. So don’t think you’re not good enough for me, when you treat me better than certain others ever would have.”
“I didn’t really have a plan tonight. I just… didn’t want you to go home with someone else.” He confesses with a shrug.
“I can’t believe you bid all that money, when all you could’ve done was ask me on a date and you would’ve had me. I’ve been waiting since that first summer night when you wrapped me in your sweatshirt and let me sit on your lap and made fun of my tiny bare feet in the backyard at Mike’s. That’s a long time waiting.”
He liked that night. Relaxed Rachel in cut off jean shorts and bare feet, her hair loose in just a little strappy top that made him want to kiss along her shoulders and up the sides of her neck.
(He did it, later, in his truck when he dropped her off, and that’s when this whole ‘hook up in secret’ thing began.)
“Coulda asked me, ya know. ‘Stead of waiting all this time for me to get my act together.”
“I just organised the auction and hoped for the best. And it paid off.”
She’s smiling.
He’s unimpressed.
He’s never been good with losing, and knowing he just spent an insane sum of money so that Rachel could get what she wanted without asking for it really kinda pisses him off.
It’s kinda hot, too though.
“You owe me.” He tells her.
“That’s what I was hoping for.” She replies, and carefully puts her drink down as she slides over the bench seat in his truck onto his lap, kissing him softly.
“I’ve wanted you for far too long.” She whispers against his lips, and he holds her tighter.
They break every auction rule about five minutes later when they establish that there will be a lot of kissing, no actual dinner date, and he drives them to her house where they tumble onto her sheets with giggles and sighs.
Santana shows up the next morning, sees a brief flash of nudity on display as Rachel makes coffee in only Puck’s plaid shirt in her kitchen, and tells them they’re both fined for breaking the rules. Rachel just laughs about it being fun and dutifully hands over her money. Glee Club is a good cause, after all.