You Just Leave It All Up To Me [1/2]
Title: You Just Leave It All Up To Me
Chapter: 1/2
Warning: This one's not related to the other fictable stories.
Pairing: Puck/Rachel
Summary: Fictable prompt #2 - Kiss. Rachel and Noah make an interesting wager, and they're both too stubborn to give in. (And I am so happy to have an icon that matches this story so well! Thank you, Bad Reputation.)
Word Count: 12,850 (total)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
"Come on, Rachel."
"Noah, please."
"Why'd you invite me over if you aren't gonna pay attention to me?" he asks. He's practically pouting. It would be cute if it wasn't so pathetic.
"Forgive me for thinking we could spend time together without incorporating the sexual aspect of our relationship. I was under the impression that you actually enjoyed my company," she says. She doesn't even look up from her homework as she says it.
He's laying on her bed. Shirtless. (What? He knows she can't resist his body. Well, couldn't. He took off his shirt to try to entice her to join him on her bed. No dice.) It's a Thursday night before a long weekend and her dads are out for the evening.
And they're not having sex. It's totally fucked.
"I do enjoy your company. I enjoy it just a little more when you're naked."
When she looks up at him, she's glaring.
"I'm cold," she says. She stands from her desk, spinning quickly so he catches a glimpse of her panties (he's pretty sure she did that shit on purpose) and reaches for a hoodie from her closet. One of his.
See, this is a catch-22, because she looks super hot in his clothes, but she's putting more clothing on. It's just not right.
"Rachel, please," he begs. He doesn't even care if he's begging.
"I have work to do," she tells him. "Can't you amuse yourself for an hour?"
He smirks and she is terrified of whatever filth is going to come out of his mouth.
Sometimes she just sets him up so well and he can't ignore it.
"Baby, if I amuse myself, it's gonna be messy," he says lecherously.
She glares at him. "You are absolutely disgusting. I don't know what I see in you."
"This," he says, like the answer is obvious, sweeping his hand over his body. He notices the way her eyes linger on his stomach, then just below his waistband. Goddamn. "Just give in, Rach. You know you want it."
She sets her pen down and folds her hands on top of her desk as she looks at him with this little smile on her face and he just knows this isn't going to work out well for him. He knows it.
"I have an idea," she announces.
"Blow job?" he asks hopefully. The way she narrows her eyes, he's pretty sure is a 'no'. He starts unbuckling his belt anyway.
"Noah!"
"What?" he asks with a laugh. "You might change your mind. I'm helping you."
She stares at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he's really serious. She figures that he's joking, but there's at least a small part of him that thinks what he's saying actually makes sense. She kind of loves that about him. She's not about to tell him that right now. They haven't said those words yet, and she's certainly not going to say them right now, even if they are true.
"I think we should form a bet. A wager, if you will," she states after regaining her composure. (She thinks he's just resting his hand high on his stomach, right below his pecs, because he knows how good he looks doing it.)
"Oh really?" he asks, seemingly taking interest in what she's saying.
"Mhmm. No kissing," she says. His face falls and he blinks at her. "No kissing, and whoever caves first, loses."
He thinks about it for a second. No kissing her? Fuck. That'll be fucking torture. But then again, as he looks at her, there's this devious gleam in her eyes and she looks like she'll be a lot of fucking fun while this is going on. He thinks about how much fun it'll be to try to come up with ways to make her kiss him. And he thinks about how awesome it'll be when she finally caves.
Because he's not losing.
"So what do I get when I win?" he asks with a smirk, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees.
"If you win, you get..." She stops talking. She didn't think this through. She sees the way he's looking at her right now, like he thinks he's already won. "Okay. The loser has to do anything the winner asks."
"Baby, you don't want to tell me that," he says, his voice thick with lust like it usually is when they're in bed together. "You're gonna get yourself in trouble."
She raises her brow and stands from her spot, moving so she's right next to the bed. He could reach out and touch her if he wanted to.
"Oh, no. Because I'm not going to lose."
"There's no way you're winning this. You practically pout when if I don't kiss you before class. You won't fucking last a day."
She lifts her leg so her knee is sitting on the edge of the bed, her skirt falling over her thigh, riding up a bit. It steals his attention and when he looks back up at her face, she's wearing this smug little smile.
Oh, this is gonna be fun.
"Alright," he says, moving so he's kneeling in front of her, hands in her hips. Her knee thigh is brushing against him through his pants. He already wants to kiss her. Fuck! "Rules."
"Rules?" she laughs. "Isn't it fairly simple?"
"Well, hang on now," he says seriously, smiling at her. He moves his thumbs in slow circles on her hips beneath her shirt, just like he knows she loves. Her gaze drops to his lips. "It has to be an obvious kiss. Nothing lame, like a peck on the lips, and you have to kiss me. You can't trick me into like, turning my head so we're kissing. Doesn't work like that."
"I agree with those terms. However, a peck on the lips definitely counts as a kiss. No kissing at all. In fact, if you were to kiss, say, my shoulder or my neck, that would count," she says, adding quickly; "And you would lose."
"So basically, my lips can't touch you at all," he states. He doesn't like the sound of that.
"Exactly. Nor mine, you."
"So I can't even get a blowie?" he asks. She swats his chest. "I'm just being clear!"
"No, I most definitely will not be...doing that!"
He leans in a little closer, and she loses her balance, making her set her leg on the floor to steady herself. He pulls her hips towards his, which feels so fucking good he can hardly stand it. "What if that's what I want you to do when I win?" He arches his hips against hers and she says his name. "Don't worry. That's not what I want," he says quietly, breath fanning across her cheek.
"We need rules for that too!" she insists worriedly, pulling away abruptly.
"No way! You already said..."
"Noah! I don't want to do anything...gross."
He smirks at her and cocks his brow. "What do you consider gross?"
"Noah," she whines.
"Damn, baby. I'm gonna miss that." He pulls her back towards him, grasping his wrist, then wrapping his arms loosely around her waist. "You saying my name. Me making you scream."
"Stop it."
"Oh, you started it," he reminds her. "I'll give you an out. Right now. If you don't think you can do it, if you think I'm gonna win, just tell me now and we'll call it off. If you're scared you won't..."
"I'm not scared!" she says, pulling away from him and crossing her arms. "And I don't think you're going to win. You underestimate my resolve. I'm the one who was single for a long, long time, Noah. You probably haven't gone more than a week without kissing someone since you were 13."
Shit. She's right.
"Whatever."
"That's an intelligent retort," she mumbles. He glares at her. "Put your shirt back on."
"Distracting?" he asks lowly.
"No," she says, sitting back down at her desk and reaching for her pen. "I just don't want to see that ridiculous nipple ring if I don't have to."
He doesn't know why she's always bitching about his nipple ring. She seriously hates that shit. He thinks it's badass. She wouldn't know badass if it hit her in the face.
But then again, she is dating him, so maybe that's not so true.
He reaches for his shirt, just because he knows that if he catches her looking at him like she has been since he started trying to seduce her, he'll fucking pounce on her or something.
"Thank you," she says.
He lays there on her bed for a while, watching her work, the way her tongue wets her lips every so often, and how she gathers her hair in her hand and tosses it over her shoulder. She crosses and uncrosses her legs. She toys with the strings of the sweater of his that she's wearing. She chews her thumbnail if she's concentrating hard on something.
He fucking loves her. It's not the first time he's thought it, but this one hits him the hardest, probably because he can't kiss her, which means that he can't touch her (touching leads far too easily to kissing) and if he tells her right now, he'll have his lips on hers the second she says it back.
And besides, he's just not ready to actually say those words. He's never said them to anyone before. He doesn't really know how. He'll wait for a better time. Or, you know, until she says it first. That'd be ideal.
"I'm gonna go," he states, standing from the bed and reaching for his bag.
"What? Why?" she asks.
"You're ignoring me for your books," he reminds her. "I'll see you tomorrow. We still on for hanging out?"
"Shopping? Yes," she says, smiling at him. He rolls his eyes. He doesn't want to shop, he wants to hang out at the mall. "It's really too bad you couldn't be patient."
"Huh?"
"Well, if you had just been able to wait until I was done my work, which I almost am...Well, I wouldn't have suggested this little bet," she says. He glares at her. She's an evil genius.
"You're fucking mean, you know that?"
She shrugs innocently. "Another ten minutes and I probably would have joined you in bed. Oh, well." Her lashes flutter and he grabs her elbow, pulling her up so she's standing. She honestly thinks he's going to kiss her right now.
She hasn't even thought of anything she wants to make him do.
He pulls her into a hug instead, holds her tightly, and her arms come up to wrap around his waist.
"Nice try, babe," he murmurs. "I'm not that easy." He pulls away and she's smiling, just on the edge of laughing. He smacks her ass none-too-lightly, winks at her and heads for the door. "See you tomorrow!"
She's left standing in her bedroom thinking that she really, really misses her goodnight kiss.
----
Shopping is fine, since they don't really ever kiss too much in public anyway.
But apparently, it's more than she assumed, because when he comes up behind her at the food court he doesn't bend down and kiss the side of her neck. And when she's trying on dresses, he doesn't try to get her to let him into the dressing room. When she stays with him and hangs out in the sports memorabilia store while he looks for a specific jersey (or is it a hat?) he doesn't kiss her temple as a thank you.
His lips haven't been anywhere near her since just after they got to her house the night before.
He fucking hates this. Being stubborn is going to bite him in the ass, here.
Because honestly? What's the worst she could have him do? Like, clean her already spotless closet? Alphabetize her books? Wash her car? Go down on her? Honestly, he can't think of anything that she'd have the balls to ask him to do, that he wouldn't actually mind doing. Yeah, it'd suck if she told him to like, bake her something, but fuck. That'd be easy.
The thing he has in mind for her? It's not even that bad, it's just something she's always said no to. And look, he's not a jerk. He's not going to make her do anything she's against, and he's not going to make her uncomfortable or scare her or hurt her in any way whatsoever.
Right about now? He just wants to fucking make out with her.
They're in his truck, holding hands. This is pretty much the only place they ever hold hands. He's not into holding hands in the hallway at school, and she's totally fine with that. It's always his arm around her shoulders or her waist, or her arm hooked through his. He likes it. This, holding hands in the car while they're driving, is nice.
Whatever.
"I'm proud of you, Noah," she says. He glances over at her like she's nuts. "You didn't try to seduce me. You didn't break the rules whatsoever. And you could have in the music store when I turned to face you quickly like that. You pulled away."
"Don't wanna win by cheating," he says, squeezing her hand.
They get to her house and she looks at him when he doesn't cut the engine. "You're not coming in?"
"Nope," he says seriously. "If I come in, I'm just gonna...You look so hot today, and..."
"You can't control yourself?" she asks with a laugh. "I thought you had more resolve than that, Noah."
"Is that another challenge? Because, baby, I know I'm gonna win this," he tells her. He knows it. There's no way he's losing this game.
"Well then, come in and prove it," she says in this sexy little voice. She grabs her bags and hops out of the truck, heading for the door.
He can't back down from this.
They sit together on her couch, her with her head resting on his lap, him running his fingers through her hair as they watch a stupid movie about a stupid fashion designer who doesn't divorce her stupid ex-husband and ends up ditching that dude from Grey's Anatomy to be with the first guy. It's stupid. Rachel loves it.
She says something about it being romantic, then sits up and looks at him with these eyes and all he wants to do is kiss her to shut her up or something. Movies give her these fucking big expectations, and he doesn't like it. He's romantic, just in a different way.
And he thinks she kinda wants to kiss him, too, because she pulls away really fast and stands up.
"You should go," she says, and he smirks. "Your mom is expecting you for dinner."
"Yeah. Of course," he says. He winks at her and she rolls her eyes. He chucks her just under the chin. She looks surprised. "Later, babe."
He leaves the house and she really hopes that little punch to her chin isn't going to stick as his new farewell.
----
Saturday, she's got dance class all day, and he's got a basketball practice, and then she's going to dinner with her dads, and he's got to watch Hannah while his mom works.
The time apart is probably good. Usually, though, she'd come over and help him babysit (Hannah is nine; it's not like it's a two person job, but whatever). This time, she's just staying in, watching a movie, she tells him when he calls her after practice.
So after Hannah is in bed, when he knows Rachel will still be up, he figures he can still play this little game of hers. And yeah, it's hers. Even though he agreed, it was all her idea.
He grabs his phone and, laying on his bed, he types out a text.
I'm thinking about you.
See, the thing with Rachel is that you can't just sext her. You have to pull her into it so that she doesn't really realize it's happening and then you're asking her about her panties and she's relaxed enough to tell you. (Sometimes [most times] even that doesn't work.)
Good spelling helps. She hates the text speak, so he makes an effort for her. For her.
He's got this shit down to a science.
Are you?
He smiles and sinks back against his pillows, trying to picture her in her house, what she might be doing.
Yeah. Wish you were here.
She doesn't respond to that, and god, the images in his head are dirty ones. He texts her again.
What are you doing? You thinking about me?
Given that we're communicating, of course I'm thinking about you.
He rolls his eyes. Of course she'd be all literal.
What are you wearing.
Noah, this isn't appropriate.
Tell me, baby. Please.
He waits a few moments, and no reply comes. He's pretty sure that's the end of their conversation. Sometimes she just doesn't bite. Even if she does, she's never really engaged in this kind of thing. Not the way he'd love her to.
He thinks about calling her, but the first question he asks her (Wanna get naked?) would probably have her hanging up on him.
Pajamas. Shorts and a tank top.
He smiles to himself. Fuck yeah. She so wants him as bad as he so wants her. And this is safe. It sucks, you know, because he's alone, but it's also totally hot. And this isn't even the thing he wants her to do when he wins.
I bet you look sexy. You in bed?
I am.
He wonders why her answers are so short. Two options: One, she's got one hand occupied. Two, she's embarrassed or nervous.
He knows which one it probably is.
I want you so bad. It's been a week since I had you.
No lie. A fucking week.
I miss you, Noah.
Damn, she knows exactly what to say. This is turning him on. This. Texting. Not even anything dirty, really, is turning him on. He's pretty sure that if he could get her to talk to him on the phone, it'd be so hot she couldn't deny it.
If I call you...phone sex?
It takes five minutes. Five minutes and he's sure he's blown it. He took it too far. That's okay, though. He's half-hard and he has the image in his head of her in her bed in her pajamas. He can work with that.
Then the phone rings.
"Hey, baby," he says lightly. He doesn't want to pressure her. And she might just be calling to remind him how repulsive she finds this act. That's what she's always telling him.
"I miss your lips so badly, Noah. It's not even fair. I wish you knew what it felt like to kiss you," she says.
It sounds a little rehearsed, like she's spent the last five minutes trying to come up with the right things to say to him.
Mission accomplished. That's fucking hot.
"Damn, Rachel. That's...Hey, isn't there a song called Kiss Me Through The Phone or something?" he asks. She laughs a little and he's happy he could relax her. He wants to relax her even more. "Tell me what you're doing right now."
"I'm laying in bed, with the lights off and that lavender candle burning. And I'm thinking about you."
Fuck. She is already so good at this.
He unzips his jeans. "You wanna get naked?"
There's a pause on the other end of the line and he's pretty sure she might hang up.
"I took my clothes off before I called you. It just seemed easier than trying to talk and undress at the same time. Is that okay?"
He chokes on his words before managing to tell her that, hell yes, that's okay.
(After, he thinks she's the most amazing girl ever and he tells her so. She blows him a kiss through the phone. It's so not enough.)
----
Monday at school, he comes up behind her at her locker and puts his hand on her hip. She spins around and catches herself right before she kisses him.
"You tried to trick me!"
"No I didn't," he laughs. "I do this every morning. Not my fault you couldn't control yourself."
"Obviously I did, since you're not doing some ridiculous victory dance and flaunting your win in my face." She closes her locker and then turns back to him. "Not that you're going to win."
She turns and walks away before he can even ask her to remind him just one time what class he has next.
----
She ignores him for the better part of two days. He knows she's feeling weak. That almost kiss in the hall totally shook her, and he knows it. So he's kind of looking for her, because he's pretty sure that if he can get her alone at the right moment, she'll totally give in and kiss him. And it will be her kissing him and not the other way around. He knows that much.
But she's like fucking David Blaine with her disappearing act. She can avoid him like no other, and trust him, he's been avoided before. He'll literally see her in the hall, and by the time he's waded through the crowd and gotten to where she was standing, she's disappeared into thin air. Even in the one class they have together, she waits until the last minute to show up, and then the only seats available are at the front of the class, and hello, he doesn't sit at the front of the class.
In glee, they're working on duets. She's paired with Brittany, and he's paired with Tina, of all people, so they're on opposite sides of the room again.
He's fucking sick of this shit. He hasn't kissed her since Thursday. Almost a week of no kissing, and another week before that since they had sex.
What the fuck is the point of having a girlfriend if he doesn't get to have regular sex and super hot makeout sessions?
Okay, so their relationship is a lot more than that.
But still...
----
He walks up to her after classes end on Wednesday, before the start of glee, and it's just the two of them in the hall. She's avoiding eye contact.
It's just that she misses him so much. She aches for him when he's near her, and it's not that she forgets about him when he's not, it's just easier not to crave him when she can't smell his ridiculous (amazing) combination of deodorant, fabric detergent and body wash. It's like he gets more attractive, more masculine, the longer she goes without kissing him, touching him or having him (she's blushing already) inside her.
So when he approaches her, she takes a deep breath as discreetly as possible and goes about gathering her notebook of sheet music and finding the right CD to take to insist that Mr. Schue listen to a certain song.
"Hey! If it isn't my girlfriend," he says, leaning against the lockers next to hers. He's got his arms crossed. She's smiling already. She's missed him.
"Hello, Noah."
"Don't hello, Noah me," he laughs. "You're like a goddamn magician, you know that? I swear it's like you disappear every time I even catch a glimpse of you."
"I've been very busy, you know. I've been studying very hard for both my history and pre-calc mid-terms, and you know that my advanced dance class is putting on a recital in just over a month, which I have to be prepared for." He's looking at her like he completely doesn't believe her. (He doesn't. This is all bullshit.) "And it's very difficult to be around you and look at your...gorgeous lips and not be able to kiss them."
He smirks and takes another step forward. "See? Was that so hard to admit?" he asks, his voice gravelly as he rests his hand at the small of her back. "And I miss you too, baby. So fuckin' much."
She smiles up at him and closes her locker. "I'm glad to hear it."
"I got you a present," he tells her, speaking into her ear like she loves. He's got to be extra careful that he doesn't get too close.
"You did? Is it sparkly? Or pink? You know I love pink," she says quickly.
"Give me your hand," he says. She looks reluctant. "Fine. Touch my chest."
"I beg your pardon?" she asks, completely offended. Seriously? All the shit they've done together and she's offended by this. "I will not. We're at school."
"Rachel, I'm not telling you to strip. Just touch me. Right here." He points to a spot on his chest and she still doesn't move. "Just touch it, baby," he tells her, reaching for her hand. She looks at him like he's crazy. He brings her hand up to his chest, places her palm over his nipple, and she gasps and looks up at him when she feels that there's nothing there, no piece of metal beneath her hand. "I took it out. I know how much you hated it."
"You...really?" she asks quietly, gazing at him.
Oh, he has her right where he wants her.
"I did it for you, Rach," he says sincerely.
She bites her lip and she can feel her breathing get shallow. She should not be as turned on as she is right now. It's a stupid thing to be flattered by. It's just that she's been begging him to get rid of that thing. It's utterly absurd, that stupid piercing. And he's finally done it, and he's being sweet, telling her he did it because of her.
She could just kiss him.
"Thank you," she says. She rests her hand on his cheek and he leans into her touch. Usually when he does this, he moves his lips and kisses the inside of her wrist, which they both love.
He doesn't do it this time.
"Welcome," he says softly.
God, she loves that tone of voice.
"I have to get to practice," she says, pulling away from him. "You coming?"
She smiles when her back is to him when she hear him groan.
He'll admit she wins this round.
----
She's waiting by his truck, and he doesn't even know how she did that shit, because he left practice before her.
Fucked!
(But it is kinda awesome having this sneaky little ninja as his girlfriend.)
She's standing there with her stupid rolling suitcase of a book bag next to her, her hair blowing in the wind, and he's so fucking close to just kissing her.
So what? He'll have to brush the hair of her My Little Pony or whatever. Honestly. What's the worst she could ask of him?
And then she gives him this ridiculous (hot) smile when she sees him, and he's ready to just say fuck this noise and kiss her.
"Would you be able to drive me home?" she asks sweetly. She's toying with the bottom of his tee shirt and he's standing in front of her. "You usually do and I forgot to ask Dad to get me. I'm stranded."
"So you need me to rescue you?" he asks, he presses her back against the truck, her hips pressing against his. "Goddamn, baby. You feel so good."
"Do I?" she asks coyly. Her hand comes up to run over his now absent nipple ring. "How good?"
"You're trying to seduce me," he says. He pulls away abruptly, glares at her. She's just smiling at him. "Fucking cold, Rachel."
She walks towards him, wraps her arms around him and looks up at him with her eyes all wide and seductive. "I could warm you up. You know what you have to do. Just kiss me."
He shakes his head and steps back, pulls open the door to his truck and pushes her towards it. He tosses her bag into the truck bed and walks over to his side of the truck.
He'll be damned if she seduces him into this.
He hangs out for a bit in her room. He actually does homework. Homework!
And she's totally restless. He's reading The English Patient as he lays on her bed, and she's sitting at her desk, hunched over her books. But she's squirming and crossing and uncrossing her legs. She's toying with her necklace and sighing, and once, when he looks at her, she's totally staring at his package.
"Come here," he says after a couple hours. He folds the corner down on his page and tosses it towards the bottom of the bed. She's shaking her head. "Rachel, please. Come here."
"Noah, we both know that if I come over there..."
"I just wanna be close to you," he says.
He sounds so sincere. Her heart is melting. She wonders if he loves her like she loves him.
Which is a lot.
She gets up and walks over to the bed, then lays down next to him. They aren't touching, not at all. She's got her hands tucked under her cheeks and he's just blinking at her across the pillow. He can hear her dads making dinner downstairs, which they've insisted he stay for. It's kind of nice, just laying here with her.
Then she licks her lips.
After nearly two weeks of no sex, that's all it takes to get him going.
It's been five minutes of just laying there when he breaks the silence.
"Hand job?"
He sounds so hopeful that she starts laughing as she gets up and moves back to her desk.
"No," she says after her answer is already apparent. "I don't think so. If I'm not..."
She stops talking and turns red.
He gets up and walks to her chair, stands behind her and starts rubbing her shoulders.
"If you're not getting off, I don't get off?" he finishes quietly, his hands working her muscles. "I guess that's fair. But..." Her head rolls to the side and she lets out a sound that totally gets his heart racing. "You know I'm good with my hands. I could make you come so good, baby."
She doesn't really know what to say to that.
He is good with his hands...
"Noah," she whispers when his fingertips brush over the space just below her ear. "I guess if you..."
Her dad shows up in the doorway to tell them dinner is ready.
Cock blocked by a gay dad.
Fucking hell.
----
"Dude, are you and Rachel, like, still together?" Finn asks him Friday morning. "Because you're both acting super weird and it's like you're fighting or something, which wouldn't really be so weird, but your fights usually last like, an hour and then you're making out in the middle of the hallway or whatever."
"We're good man," Puck says, looking over to where Rachel is standing at her locker, brushing her fingers through her hair. She catches his eye in the mirror and smiles. "You wouldn't understand."
Puck isn't even sure he understands anymore.
And he fucking knows she puts more lip gloss on just because she knows he's looking.
----
At his Friday night basketball game, Noah plays better than she's ever seen him play. He glances at her after hitting two three pointers in a row, and she's smiling, because she wonders if he's taking his pent up sexual frustration out on the court. She thinks he must be. (She's expressing hers through dance; she rehearsed two extra hours the night before.)
It's funny, she decides, the way Finn shuffled up to her at lunch and asked her if she and 'Puck' are okay. She'd tried to explain that everything is fine, but he didn't believe her for a second, so she told him about the wager. He laughed so hard she thought he was going to hurt himself. He couldn't believe Puck would agree to that, especially with Rachel, who's probably the most stubborn person around.
Other than Noah, apparently.
And then he told her he'd help her out.
There's a reason she and Finn are such good friends.
After the game, Noah comes up to her and tosses his sweaty towel in her face.
Charming.
Finn walks up and wraps Rachel into a tight hug, lifting her up and thanking her for coming to his game.
Puck's face goes hard. Finn's game? Oh, hell no. Puck led the team in scoring and rebounds. It was no one's game but his. And Rachel's his fucking girlfriend.
Finn throws his arm around Rachel's shoulder and talks to her as they head for the door.
"Um, what the fuck?" Puck asks, following them and reaching for Rachel's wrist. "How 'bout a fucking congratulations?"
"I'm sorry!" she says with a laugh. "I forgot you were here."
He glares at her.
"The fuck?"
"I just got caught up with Finn." She closes the space between them and wraps her arm around his waist. He's pouting. "You're not really mad, are you?" she asks quietly.
Finn sends her a wink when Puck isn't looking. "I'm gonna take off. Hey, Rach, call me tomorrow about that glee stuff, okay?"
She nods and Puck glares at his so-called best friend. Is Finn fucking serious right now? What the hell is going on?
"What the fuck was that?" he asks as soon as they're alone in the gym. "Are you just trying to piss me off?"
Yes.
"Noah, why would you think that?" she asks, moving to stand in front of him. She runs her hands down his arms. He likes that.
"Oh, I dunno. Maybe because you didn't fucking say a word to me and you walked off with him draped all over you? Fuck, Rachel."
She smiles and grabs the sides of his shirt. "You're jealous."
He'd like to deny it. He knows she expects him to.
"Uh, yeah, I'm jealous. You're my girl and my best friend was just cock blocking me. That's totally fucked!"
"Stop cursing, and you know I hate that expression," she reminds him.
It's really unfortunate that he's had to use the term 'cock blocked' around her enough that it's on the long list of shit she hates him saying.
He sighs and rolls his eyes.
Then he gets to thinking.
Finn seemed awfully concerned about the status of Puck's relationship with Rachel. Puck also knows for a fact that Finn's into Brittany. Also, he saw Finn and Rachel talking quietly earlier, and he couldn't really decipher the looks she was sending his way.
He gets it now.
They're totally playing him.
Nice try, Berry. Really, A for effort.
"I'm really pissed, Rachel."
Her eyes get all sad and worried. "Noah."
"You know I fucking worry about you with him. I mean...can you blame me? You were like, ready to have his babies last year," he tells her. She raises her brow. Yeah, the baby humour still doesn't go over so well, considering. "I'm just...fuck. I'm waiting for you to realize you want him or something."
She actually gasps and pulls away from him. "Noah! How could you possibly think that!?"
He doesn't. Turns out listening to all her blathering on about acting has helped him out.
He shrugs. "Just how I feel."
She wraps her arms around him and lifts herself up on her toes so her chin is resting on his shoulder.
"You have nothing to worry about," she assures him. When she pulls away, she takes his face in her hands and forces him to look at her. "Nothing."
See, the thing is, he doesn't worry. He knows just whose girl she is, and so does everyone else. Turns out, though, that it's still nice to hear it. His heart races just a little and he grips her hips a little tighter.
And she's leaning in. She is leaning in!
"Oh, my gosh!" she says at the last second, pulling away and covering her mouth with her hands.
Fuck! He was so close to winning!
He laughs at her and throws his arm around her shoulder. "C'mon. I'll drive you home. I mean, unless you wanna catch Finn and..."
"Stop," she says, shoving him a little.
This bet? Totally bullshit. It might kill him before he can actually win.