Fix it Kisses {1/1}
Title: Fix-It Kisses
Category: Glee
Ship: Puck/Rachel
Rated: G
Genre: Romance
Word Count: 1056
Summary: She realized she’s not the only one whose world got better with Noah Puckerman’s kisses. ‘Schmoop Bingo’ prompt ‘Kissing it Better’
~*~
When Rachel and Finn combusted in spectacular fashion, there were tears, screams and objects flying from her hand to his head. It was Puck who found her sitting on the edge of the school’s stage, her face a puffy mess. He said nothing but sat with her; the bell rang once, then twice forty minutes later. They’ve missed one class and another one. Still they sat. They weren’t really friends but they had developed a weird relationship where they understood each other. When she started to cry once more, his arms came around her shoulders pulling her to him. He let her tire herself out until all that came out of her were small sniffles. Placing his index finger under her chin, he tilted her face until she looked up at him. He didn’t tell her it will get better; he just brushed his lips across her brow.
And it didn’t fix things but as she offered him a small smile, she realized that it was already better.
They had been in New York for six months; he had been studying to be an architect while she went on auditions. She had been on so many and all had been misses. It was getting to her. She didn’t know everything. She didn’t know how not to be blunt, she didn’t know how to take it easy. She didn’t know that the boy who had thrown slushies at her would turn out to be the love of her life. A wonderful man that she has the privilege to call her boyfriend; but, if there was one thing she always knew, it was that she was meant to shine, to stand out. Except, no one called her back and now she didn’t know.
He found her sitting on their ratty couch in one of his faded t-shirts and while he appreciated the sight of her long, tan legs, the gallon of ice-cream on her lap and the pout on her pretty face told him that it was going to be a long night. He dropped his things by the door and without a verbal greeting, pulled her in close, settling her on his lap. She allowed him to take the ice-cream from her hands as her head settled on the nook of his neck, her own personal sanctuary, the comfort of his arms, the soothing effect of his fingers running through her hair, still she felt like crap.
“Noah…” She sighed, looking up at him.
“They’ll call, Babe.” He answered her unasked question, and when she gave him a doubtful look, he simply kissed her. A long, warm, soft kiss that had her sighing for completely different reasons. As he carried her to their bed, he never stopped kissing her. Hours later, she laid blissfully exhausted, doubt wiped away by Puck’s lips.
A week later she got her call. Maria. West Side Story.
The kisses he gave her then were not meant to comfort but to congratulate, still it made her call even better.
She had a panic attack the day of their wedding. They were up on the altar, their friends and family were watching, the rabbi was talking about forever and she was seized with fear. What if it ended? What if she made him unhappy? What if he left her? She was seconds away from losing it when Puck kissed her. He cut off the rabbi, she knew that much; he was nowhere near ‘you can kiss the bride’ part. His lips were pressed hard against hers; he was not asking permission as his tongue plunged deep into her mouth. When he broke the kiss, her eyes were hazy and she was clinging onto his lapels.
“We’re going to be fine, Baby.” He said tenderly, his finger running over her cheek. “We’re going to be great.”
She believed him. She was the one who pulled him into a kiss as the rabbi named them husband and wife, chuckles coming out of his mouth and from everyone gathered.
She was Mrs. Rachel Puckerman.
The stick was blue, they’ve been married a year. She was working a full schedule, Puck was working hard at an architect firm and the stick was blue. They’ve been careful and the stick was blue. He found her in their bathroom, leaning against the sink with the little stick still in her hands. She didn’t have time to put it away, didn’t have time to react at all before he took it from her hands. If the wide smile he gave her wasn’t enough to reassure her that it was going to be okay, then, his dropping on his knees to place a kiss on her belly did.
It was going to be okay, it was going to be better than okay. They spent the next nine months with Puck being the biggest mother hen there could be and when she was seconds away from losing it, he kissed her until she couldn’t even remember her name.
Eighteen hours of screaming, pushing and promising that he was never allowed to have sex with her again, his lips kissed the crown of her head as they both look down at her arms. Caroline Joy Puckerman. They had a daughter.
“Owwww....... DADDY!”
Rachel looked up from the plates she was washing and looked out at her backyard through the window. Her daughter had fallen off her bike. Before she had a chance to freak out, her husband had their little girl up and was checking her over. There seemed to be no damage at all, just the shock of falling. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she watched as her daughter’s lips quivered, big round tears falling down her chubby cheeks. She pointed at her elbow. She watched as Puck leaned in close, examining the arm before he started kissing where she was pointing. She watched as the tears stopped and their daughter smiled up at her dad. The smile turning to peels of laugher as Puck started tickling and chasing her around the yard before grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around. She left the plates and headed outside. Father and daughter looked up from their games and flashed her identical grins.
Watching them, she realizes that it’s not only her world that got better with Noah Puckerman’s kisses.