Hazy Shade of Winter
Title: Hazy Shade of Winter
Chapter: 1/1
Warning: Borderline NC-17-ish. And Puck is a giant jerk. Fictable prompt #49 - Winter (Other prompts for this are at the bottom, from TFLN.)
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: She supposes college is for this kind of thing. You know, hooking up with your ex-boyfriend over winter break.
Word Count: 7,581
Disclaimer: Don't own.
A/N: katertots_78 is awesome. That is all.
She supposes college is for this kind of thing.
You know, hooking up with your ex-boyfriend over winter break.
Or, you know, hooking up with your ex-boyfriend the second day (the first party) of winter break.
The thing is, New York is amazing. Winter there is beautiful. Bright and loud and joyful, and she easily jumped into the holiday spirit with the lights and the shopping and skating at Rockefeller Center with her friends a few days after the tree lighting.
She didn't want to come back to Ohio. She wanted to celebrate the holidays with her fathers, but she tried to convince them to come to New York. Turns out her uncle, who lives in New Mexico and never gets home to see family, was coming home to see family. Rachel really didn't have much of a choice. Her fathers couldn't visit her, and she wasn't about to stay away from home for the holidays. So she ended up flying into Cincinnati, where her fathers picked her up, and spending the evening catching up with them in person on all that 'changed' or happened since Thanksgiving.
She was pretty surprised when Mercedes texted her with about a million exclamation points and in all caps asked (told) Rachel to come to her place where everyone was meeting up. It's BYOB, which Rachel has learned means Bring Your Own Booze.
She's never been 'forbidden' to drink. Her fathers have always simply told her to do it responsibly, not to drive, and to at least attempt to make smart choices.
Rachel always makes smart choices.
But then after maybe a little too much wine, she realizes that everyone at this party is with someone. Finn brought with him the girl he's been dating since October. (Her name is Emily or something, and she's sweet enough, Rachel supposes, pretty and blonde and blue-eyed.) Mercedes and Mike have been dating since the beginning of senior year. Matt's girlfriend came home from school with him for the first part of break. Kurt's boyfriend, who he met at school, lives in Colorado, but the two are attached at all times via BBM. Tina and Artie are practically married, and Brittany and Santana are still whatever it is that they are. Quinn is dating Robert, the guy from West Lima she's been with for close to two years.
Rachel looks around the room and knows she's been single - has hardly had a date - since May when she and Finn broke up for the fourth and final time.
Then she realizes Noah is staring at her. With a (sexy) little smirk on his face. He's single, too, she knows. Of course he's single. The words Noah Puckerman and girlfriend don't even belong in the same sentence, unless he's talking about sleeping with someone else's or something like that.
She doesn't think she's making any sense. She knows she can't mess up a smile, so she sends him one of those. Her face feels hot when he winks at her.
Ten minutes later, they're in a bedroom and she's setting her glass on the dresser and turning to him just in time to catch him staring at her legs. Yes, she's wearing a dress in December. In her defense, it's casual and black and kind of sexy. She paid far too much for it, but it's probably the entire reason he's even looking at her, so she doesn't care.
"'Sup?" he asks, voice all deep, and was it always that sexy?
Still, she really doesn't know how to respond to such a question.
"I...You asked me up here," she reminds him.
He laughs softly and moves towards her, and it's like downstairs, only better because they're alone. He'd just walked over to her and rest his hand on the mantel so he was kind of boxing her in. He asked about New York and she asked about the school in Buffalo he was attending, and when he leaned in and asked her if she wanted to go someplace quiet to talk, she nodded and walked away with him, not caring at all that everyone would know what was about to happen.
She knows what's about to happen.
"It's pretty cute, how fucking clueless you are," he tells her, smiling as he grips her hips and pulls her towards him. He's already hard, and she doesn't know how that's possible, but she certainly likes that she's responsible for it.
"I'm not clueless," she insists. She trails her hand down his chest and around his back. "Are you just doing this with me because I'm the only single girl at the party?"
That feels pretty important. Not that she's going to stop. She doesn't want to, for some reason. Again, single since May. That's probably why.
And it's not like she hasn't been curious about Noah's abilities in the bedroom. For Pete's sake, he managed to not only seduce, but impregnate, the queen of the chastity ball. And he's a very good kisser. And that was nearly three years ago. She's always wondered if he'd be able to...Well, she's always wondered. She's only been with one other boy, and it was his best friend. Not that Finn couldn't satisfy her, but Noah...
He's just looking at her and her knees are a little weak.
"Basically," he answers, pulling her from her thoughts. "But you look fucking sexy, too." He looks her up and down, runs a hand over her hip and up her side to cup her breast. They haven't even kissed and he's touching her like this, and she really, really likes it. "You wore this dress tonight? Practically begging to be fucked."
"Noah," she whispers, ducking her head. "I didn't know...I didn't plan..."
"You didn't dress like this 'cause you knew Finn'd be here?" he asks with a smirk.
She pulls away a little bit, only to have him hold her closer. "It doesn't matter to me what Finn does, and I certainly don't do anything for him."
He leans forward, licks the shell of her ear. "What're you gonna do for me?"
It almost startles her, how forward he's being. It shouldn't, because she knows how he operates and she's been pursued by men in New York who use similar tactics (albeit with much less success). And she doesn't want him to think she doesn't want this or she's unsure. She knows she wants this. She loves the way he's pressed against her and how his lips are traveling slowly over her jaw and neck. It's amazing. It feels better than she even thought it would. She's admittedly a little scared of how good she's bound to feel once things progress a little further.
So because she doesn't want him thinking she is going to back out, she figures she can at least act incredibly confident until she actually is. And she's getting there rather quickly, since it's clear he wants her. Badly.
She pulls away a little bit, puts some distance between them and looks at him through her eyelashes as she smiles. She can tell he's not sure if he should be annoyed or excited. The answer is clear when she reaches for the hem of her dress.
"What do you want me to do for you?" she asks, pulling up the fabric and tugging it over her head. She's left standing in a black bra and matching panties, and he groans.
"Fuck me," he mumbles, looking her up and down, and she knows he doesn't mean it as an answer to her question.
She giggles a little and pushes herself back onto the bed so she's sitting back against the pillows. "How am I supposed to do that when you're still wearing clothes?"
He's smiling as he starts unbuttoning his shirt, watching her as she watches him.
"Not yet," he says once he's got his shirt on the floor and his pants undone. She'd swear he was teasing her if she thought he was the type.
"What?" she asks quietly, meeting his eyes.
Okay, his body is rather distracting, tight in all the right places, curves and angles and...Well, she's spent some time in the past looking at it. He smiles and joins her on the bed, pushes her thighs apart. She sucks in a breath and he lifts her leg, kisses the inside of her knee, up her thigh.
"Not gonna fuck you yet," he tells her. All she can do is nod. He kisses her through her panties, presses his tongue against the fabric she knows is already wet. "Want me, huh?"
He sounds cocky and conceited, and she'd berate herself for finding even that sexy, but he's pulling her panties down her legs and she figures her bra should go, too. He takes a moment to look at her, laid out on this huge bed in this random room in Mercedes' house. She feels bad about that for almost a second, then he tells her how 'fucking hot' she is, and it's not like they're going to leave and go anywhere else.
His tongue meets bare skin and she kind of loses her mind a bit. He talks to her while he goes down on her, which she's obviously never experienced before. (Finn could barely walk and chew gum at the same time.) He tells her she tastes good, that she's warm and soft and smooth and he can't wait to be inside her. He asks her if she's on the pill and she says yes (partly because she is, partly because he pushes his fingers into her and it feels almost, almost like what she needs). He says it's a good thing, because he's wanted to fuck her since they dated, and he doesn't want to do it with a condom, wants to feel her come around him and wants to come inside her.
She'd normally argue and insist she's not doing this unprotected, but there's always been an innate, and perhaps ill-advised, trust between the two of them. And she wants all that probably as bad as he does. She's never had sex without a condom, but she's craving it right now.
"Focus, baby," he laughs, looking up at her. "Thinking too hard."
Her hands are in his hair and she swears she's a completely different person when she says, "make me stop."
He grins, kisses from her hip bone back to her center as he slides his fingers in and out of her. "How 'bout I make you come?" he asks.
She manages to breathe out, "okay," and ignores the way he chuckles softly before he focuses his tongue on pleasuring her rather than talking to her.
Her toes curl and she sees white when she falls over the edge, and he continues working her with his tongue even as she says his name and a series of vowels and clutches the bedspread.
"Oh my god," she murmurs, arm thrown over her eyes as she comes back into her body a bit more. She's vaguely aware that he's moving around, and she tenses when she feels something against her lips. It's his hand, specifically his fingers, and she locks eyes with him as she pulls them past her lips and swirls her tongue around them.
"Fuck," he says darkly, and it's then that she realizes he's shucked his pants and boxers. The hand that isn't in her mouth is around his length, stroking expertly, and she reaches out for him, catches his wrist and half pulls him closer, half pushes herself down the bed so she's flat on her back.
"Please," she whispers, and he kisses her lips for the first time. She laughs a little when she realizes, and he doesn't ask her why, just smiles at her and kisses her again, and when his tongue is in her mouth she spreads her legs open. "Noah."
"Love that," he mumbles. She furrows her brow. "My name. You saying it."
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and angles her hips, pressing them against his. "Noah, please, just..." He pushes into her when they're looking at one another. "Oh god."
... ... ...
He walks her home after.
Well, at like, 5:00 a.m., 'cause that shit went all night long, and fuck, the least he can do is make sure she, you know, doesn't pass out in a snowbank or something. Girl has to be tired after fucking like that. And being fucked like that. It was a joint effort, that's for sure.
To be honest, he always thought she'd be fucking dynamite in bed. She's all crazy and intense about everything. How could she not be a total animal?
Actually, after the first time (after she made him come so hard he kinda fell on her - and she liked it) he called her a freak of nature, and he really, really hopes she knows that's a really good thing. She's flexible as hell, and when he lifted her leg up over his shoulder, it was so easy she didn't even blink. This was all great. All of it. Then, after riding him for a while they, like, somehow did some Jedi Mind Trick shit and decided to switch up positions, she got on her hands and knees and looked at him over her shoulder.
Fuckin' a.
So yeah, she was way more into it than he ever thought she'd be. Pretty awesome.
She's twisting the strap of her purse in her hands and they haven't really talked in a while. The house was quiet when they left, but Puck's pretty sure at least half of their friends had to have heard Rachel screaming his name. She's not exactly quiet. It's fucking sexy.
As far as one night stands go, this was one of the best.
They get to her door and he's freezing his nuts off, which is really shitty, 'cause they should really only ever feel good, if you think about it. She looks at him and he smiles, because she's a bit of a mess. Her makeup is smudged, and her lips are all red from a fucking lot of kissing (and a little going down on him), and her hair is just in a ponytail, not down and perfectly curled like it was earlier. He thought she looked hot before. She looks better now.
"Um, thank you for walking me home," she says politely, looking up at him. He smirks and leans against the door frame.
It's obvious she's never done this before. He's enough of an asshole to make it as uncomfortable for her as possible.
"Thanks for letting me fuck you barebacked multiple times."
"Noah," she gasps, looking around. He wants to remind her that it's not even light out yet, and there's certainly not anyone around to hear him. "My fathers are..."
"What?" he asks, backing her against the door. "Don't want them to know how dirty their little girl is?"
See, this is weird to him, because behind closed doors she was literally a vixen, almost too much to handle (almost). Now that they're back to 'real life' or whatever, she's all shy about it and stuff. And what's with that? How's she two different people, he has no idea.
"I think everyone who currently needs to know that bit of information, knows," she says quietly. He laughs softly and she fishes her keys from her purse. "Okay, well..."
"Yeah," he says, and really, no matter how many times he does this shit, he never really perfects the brush off.
I mean, come on. It's Rachel. She's probably like, planning their wedding and naming their babies in her head or some shit, and honestly? No. Sure, the sex was fucking amazing, but he's not about to sign up for a lifetime of anything. With anyone. Least of all with her.
"I'll see you around," he says. She looks hurt for a second, then just takes a breath and smiles before fitting the key in the lock.
"Maybe," she says, and for some reason he feels like maybe she's the one brushing him off or something. He was vague, but she was vaguer. Is that a word? Shit. He's...this is fucked.
She turns to walk into the house, and his hand connects with her ass in the same place it did earlier, though that was harder and skin on skin.
He's halfway home when he calls Chang and Rutherford, 'cause honestly, fuck them if they think it's not a 5 dollar breakfast morning.
... ... ...
The only time Rachel can recall being so sore was when she was 13 and sprained her ankle and had to step away from dancing for four weeks. When she returned, she had to work twice as hard to get into shape, and her body did not approve of all the extra work.
This is like that, only different muscles, and she blushes when she thinks of how she got like this, gingerly laying down in her bed after a long bath.
She knew it would be a good time. She knew he'd be skilled and get her to the place she wanted to go, several times. She didn't know she'd feel such a strong urge to please him, too. Judging from her limited experience, it isn't all that hard for men to find that release. Noah's stamina and control was impressive.
Her only concern was that perhaps she'd been a little loud. But he didn't seem to mind that at all, and she honestly doesn't think she would have been able to stop herself if she'd tried. And she's an adult. She can do whatever she wants. And apparently, she wanted Noah Puckerman.
She looks down and sees the hickey on her breast and the bruise on her hip from his hand. The inside of her thighs are a little red. She should not find it all as sexy as she does. She thinks about it, though, the way he'd pushed into her (from so many different angles her head spins to try and recall) and the way he'd said her name when he let go, and she smiles and gets that feeling in her stomach, and part of her (her body) wishes he were here right now to do it again. Her head, however, knows that the way he said goodbye was his somewhat polite way of telling her not to hold her breath and wait for a call that would never come.
Her phone rings.
She reaches over and sees that it's Mercedes, and she's immediately blushing. Against her better judgment, she answers.
"Well, well," Mercedes says. "I'm surprised you can even talk today."
Rachel closes her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Girl, you did some serious shouting last night," Mercedes laughs. Rachel groans and buries her face in her pillow. How embarrassing. "You and Puck?"
"Don't...Just don't."
"Well, at least it was obviously good."
"I'm not...I won't justify that."
"Rachel, we all heard you. Either you're a damn good actress, or you got yours. Over and over again."
Rachel lets out a breath. "Look, it was...It was one night. Nothing for everyone to get all crazy over. Surely you've all had random hookups."
"Hey, no one's judging," Mercedes says laughingly. "I'm just sayin'. We all had to move to the other side of the house."
"Stop it!" Rachel hisses. "It couldn't have been that bad."
Mercedes just laughs a little harder. "You can ask everyone later. We're all going to see The Polar Express tonight."
"Oh, I don't know if..."
"Rach, you're coming." Rachel knows she can't really argue, and that actually sounds like fun, if she can get over the embarrassment of everyone having heard her having sex with another of their friends. "And you can call Puck and invite him. 9:00 at the Mayfair."
"Mercedes!"
The line goes dead and Rachel throws her phone to the other side of the bed. She really, really hates these people sometimes.
She stands up and heads over to her bathroom for a drink of water. She's wearing just a tee shirt and a pair of panties, and she catches sight of something red in the mirror. Tugging down the waistband of her panties, she sees a very distinct impression on her right buttock. It's a hand. It's his hand.
She heads back into her room, grabs her phone and scrolls through until she finds his name, then hits send. He doesn't answer, and she's not at all surprised. She wonders if he would have answered if they hadn't hooked up. Probably not, she deduces.
"Noah, it's Rachel," she starts. She's most certainly not going to lead him to believe that she's calling like some desperate girl. "Mercedes wanted me to call you and let you know everyone's going to a movie tonight at 9:00. It's at the Mayfair."
She hangs up without another word, and she thinks she should plan revenge on Mercedes for stirring the pot in such a way.
... ... ...
"What'd she want?" Finn asks after Puck has checked his voicemail. His girlfriend is out doing stuff with Kurt and his mom, so he and Puck are playing Call of Duty in Puck's room.
And honestly, Puck was pretty sure Finn was going to lose his shit over the whole Rachel thing. In high school, during one of Finn and Rachel's breakups, Matt took her to homecoming and Finn had to be held back so he didn't punch the guy in the face. But Puck just supposes Finn and Rachel are really as over as she said they are. It's not like he really has an opinion on all that, he just thinks it's pretty awesome that he's not laid out on the floor getting hit right now.
"Everyone's going to a movie. She invited me," he says, un-pausing the game.
"I knew about the movie. I was supposed to tell you. Why would she call?"
"Mercedes is being a shit disturber as usual," Puck mumbles.
"You gonna go?"
"Why would I?"
"Everyone else is," Finn says with a shrug.
"So?" Puck laughs. "I don't need Rachel getting all clingy and shit, okay? It hasn't even been 24 hours and she's already called."
"Dude, she invited you to a movie with all our friends. Not like she's going to mount you in the middle of a theater."
Very briefly, Puck thinks about how awesome that would be.
"It's like a big date. Fuck that. Don't need her getting any ideas."
Finn shakes his head. "You're such a dick. And you're coming. It's Saturday night. What else are you going to do? Everyone else we know is going to the movie."
Puck rolls his eyes. He fucking hates it when Finn's right.
So that's how he ends up standing in the freezing cold with Finn, Emily, and Kurt, waiting for everyone else to show up. And no, no one told him the movie they're seeing is a fucking cartoon. A Christmas cartoon.
"Dude, I'm Jewish. What the fuck am I even doing here?" he asks after a while. He sees Mercedes and Mike walking towards them.
"They're not going to ask your religion at the door," Finn laughs, pulling Emily a little closer to him. It's fucking freezing out. "You sure you aren't just scared of seeing Rachel?"
"Shut up," Puck warns.
Kurt snickers and shakes his head. "You could have told her to shut up last night, before we were all subjected to hearing her scream your name."
He can't help it. He has to smirk. Yeah, she is kind of a screamer. As if he was going to tell her to quiet down.
They all stand there waiting, and Rachel is one of the last to arrive. She shows up a few minutes before Brittany and Santana. She's wearing this black jacket and a little black knit hat with her hair braided and over her shoulder. Her jeans are dark and tight, and she's got them tucked into a pair of leather boots. She definitely looks good.
She also ignores him. She talks to Emily, which everyone (especially Finn) thinks is totally fucked up and turns her back to Puck, and yeah, maybe he checks her out, but only because she's super hot, and only when no one else is looking.
He doesn't know whose fucking bright idea it is to sit them next to one another, but if someone's playing matchmaker, he's going to find out who it is and throw hands. Seriously. They all have this romantic notion that sex equals relationship, and it fucking doesn't, okay? He can have sex with someone and not, like, marry them.
He's starting to think fucking Rachel was a really bad idea. Yeah, it was a shitload of fun at the time, but it's kind of looking like a mistake now.
Her arm brushes his on the armrest, and he looks at her with his brow furrowed when she doesn't move it.
"What?" she snaps. "You could be a gentleman for once in your life and relinquish the armrest to the woman next to you."
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Fuck that." The lights go down, and she's sipping from her drink while he sits there, relatively miserable. He leans over to speak into her ear. "We're bad Jews," he tells her. "This is totally a..."
"Shhh," she hisses, shrugging her shoulder in an attempt to get him away.
He doesn't appreciate the brush off. He's pretty sure she's pissed at him for doing it to her. He should be happy she's not all clingy and desperate and shit, and he is, really. But he really doesn't appreciate it when Santana leans over a few minutes later and tells him he and Rachel have more sexual tension now that they've fucked. It's not like that.
So he'll just ignore Rachel completely, and maybe that'll make them both happy.
The movie ends and they file out of the theater. He grumbles that he just lost two hours of his life that he'll never get back. Brittany puts her arms around his neck, hangs off his back and tells him to stop being such a Scrooge, and he manages a smile before he shakes her off and sets her on her feet. Someone suggests they go for hot chocolate, and since Finn drove him and he's going, Puck's kind of forced into it. Great.
It'd be way easier to ignore Rachel if people weren't always looking from her to him as if they're waiting for a shouting match or for Rachel to jump him or something. He's not gonna yell at her unless she starts talking crazy or tries to hold his hand or some shit. There has been no risk of that so far.
Until they come out of the bathroom at the same time. She's rubbing her hands together and he looks at her, and she stops in her tracks and closes her eyes, like she doesn't want this to be happening as much as he doesn't want it to be happening.
"Hi," she says. He juts his chin in her direction and starts to walk away, but she places her hand on his arm and he stops, looks at her. "Noah, can we please try to make this less awkward?"
"What's awkward?" he asks. "We barely spoke before, we're barely speaking now."
She rolls her eyes. "Right. But everyone knows we slept together. The least we can do is make an effort to act like friends."
He tilts his head at her as if to remind her that they were never really friends at all. "Can't we just ignore each other?"
"Considering your hand print is on my behind? I think we're past that point."
He tries not to smirk, but he can't help it. Yeah, he might have gotten her a little hard. She definitely didn't mind, though.
He leans in closer to her, rests his hand above her shoulder against the wall, and he can tell she thinks he's going to kiss her. He's not.
"You can just treat this like a practice run for the next guy you spread your legs for. Obviously, you don't know a one night stand when you see one."
Her jaw drops and her eyes narrow. She shoves him away and he follows her as she stomps down the hallway and back into the cafe. She grabs her coat off the back of the chair she'd been sitting in, and stuffs her arms through the sleeves. He walks up just in time to hear her.
"I'm going home," she states.
"What? Why?" Tina asks confusedly. Rachel looks over her shoulder at him, which is pretty much the equivalent of throwing him under the bus.
"I'm just tired," she says.
Everyone watches her storm out of the cafe before they collectively turn to look at him. He sits down in his chair, takes a sip of his coffee and shrugs his shoulder like none of it is his fault.
... ... ...
Their friends get significantly better at separating the two of them, and she doesn't see him for nearly a week. When she does, it's in passing, when she's in Mercedes' car and they're picking Emily up from Finn's house so the girls can go shopping, and Puck is getting out of his truck in Finn's driveway to spend a day watching sports with the guys.
Rachel wonders if sports and Noah might be better than shopping and Emily, but she can't really say anything about it.
It's not that she doesn't like Emily. The girl is sweet and nice, but she's Finn's new girlfriend, and Rachel is the girl Finn dated on and off for two and a half years, so there's some discomfort there. But yet again, Mercedes wasn't taking no for an answer, so here Rachel is, sandwiched between Santana and Emily in the very back of the Jones' SUV.
Rachel has been replaying Noah's words in her head for days. Honestly, she expected him to be kind of cold. He made it very clear that what happened was a one time only thing, and she was fine with that. She didn't expect him to be her boyfriend or anything stupid like that. She doesn't want him to be. A little respect would be nice. It's not like they were the best of friends before, but the least he could do would be to act like she's not some slut he picked up in a bar.
Mike asks her about it one night when everyone else is tobogganing and they're sitting it out. She can't risk injury and he's afraid of heights. The top of the hill is a long way from the bottom, so the two of them sit in Mercedes' SUV so they can watch, but still listen to music and be warm.
She tells him it's nothing, that Noah can do whatever he wants, whether that includes her or not. Mike just says her name and shakes his head like he doesn't believe her, and she changes the subject rather quickly. It bothers her that no one seems to understand that she can have a one night stand just as easily as anyone else.
She just wishes she'd picked someone outside her circle of friends.
... ... ...
He really, really fucking wishes everyone'd get off his back about the whole Rachel thing. To be honest, he's starting to realize he fucked up.
Mostly because he's aching to have sex (literally aching) and if he'd played his cards right, he could be having sex with Rachel at any given moment instead of realizing that there are no girls in Lima who are available and who he'd fuck. He could have had an entire break of amazing hook ups with Rachel if he'd put a little more thought into it instead of his cut and run instincts kicking in. He was so concerned with her not getting all clingy that he didn't realize that her clinging a little (to his dick) would have been awesome.
Too late for that, he supposes, even as he holds his phone in his hand and looks down at her name in his list of contacts.
... ... ...
She's leaving in a few days to go back to New York, and there's one more party everyone will be attending. It's nearly New Years, and she's got a new dress and a pair of heels she loves. It's not for two days, the party, but she's got everything set out, dress hanging on the back of her closet door. Kurt picked out the accessories he wanted, and she's picked different ones.
And maybe a little bit of her motivation is Noah and knowing he'll be there, and really, she can't be faulted for wanting to look her best and rub it all in his face a little bit.
Her cell rings and she turns down the music she has playing before reaching for her phone.
She almost drops it when she sees that it's Noah.
She has no intentions of answering.
... ... ...
"Hey. I uh, you know, just wanted to see if you're going to the party or whatever. Pretty fucked that we can't even be in the same place at the same time now. Guess that's somehow my fault. Anyway, whatever. I'll see you there."
He groans and lays back on his bed when he ends the call, because fuck, that was pretty much the stupidest message he could have ever left. He was a dick. That's why they can't be in the same place at the same time now.
And the only reason he called her in the first place is because he's half-hard and thinking about her and his jeans need to come off, and it would have been a lot more fun if she was the one to take them off.
She's not. Fucking sucks.
... ... ...
Rachel laughs out loud when she listens to the message. He's just such a jackass, honestly. She doesn't think he could be more clueless if he tried. People call her the naive one, and perhaps she is from time to time, but she's never stupid, which frankly, she thinks sometimes he is.
She doesn't even get to her bedroom door when her phone vibrates in her hand, indicating she's got a text message.
Come on, Rach. Really wanna see you.
She shakes her head. Forgive her if she has a hard time believing him.
... ... ...
When she walks into his bedroom, he's wearing only his jeans (unzipped and with a pair of plaid boxers underneath). He doesn't have a shirt on. Honestly, he wasn't expecting a guest. And if she'd shown up five minutes ago, she would have gotten an eyeful of him jerking off thinking about her. Shit, that could have been hot.
"Uh. Hi."
"I let myself in. I knocked, but no one answered," she says evenly, arms crossed over her chest.
"You make a habit of walking into peoples' houses?" he asks. He puts one hand behind his head as he lays there.
"Do you make a habit of being this rude to the women you sleep with?" she asks. She rolls her eyes at herself. "Of course you do."
"Hey," he says, furrowing his brow. "You don't know shit about me."
"I know you better than you'd think. I've known you for years. And you seem to think you have me all figured out anyway," she argues.
She's kinda hot when she's all pissy like this. And her tits look awesome when she's pushing them up like that. Maybe it's not on purpose, but whatever. Mission accomplished if she's trying to make him crazy. And hard again. All he can think is that if she somehow ends up naked, he'll be able to fuck her so good, since he just rubbed one out, and, oh shit, is she talking?
"...For a week, and that voicemail? That was a pathetic attempt, at best," she says. She's pacing his floor, and at some point, she closed the door. "Actually, what was the most pathetic thing was the text message."
He's sick of her getting all self-righteous and bitchy. He figures he should just lay it all out there and the worst that can happen is she'll get pissed and leave. They'll go to this party, then leave town, then he'll go back to Buffalo and find some girl to fuck. If he could fuck Rachel first, that's good, too.
He stands from the bed and walks towards her, reaches for her and sets his hands on her hips.
She is very aware that he's half-naked and his pants are undone.
"Kinda wanted you to blow me." She barks out a laugh and puts her hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly, but not enough that he's not touching her. "What? You give good head, baby."
"I'm sorry. I don't see how 'I want to see you' translates into that," she says, still laughing. "And you may think that's some kind of compliment, and I suppose in some twisted way it is, but it's certainly not romantic, and it's certainly not the way to..."
He kisses her, because fuck, there's way too much talking going on right now, and she wouldn't have shown up if she didn't want this as badly as he does. She tries to push him away at first, but he slides his hand beneath her sweater and feels how hot her skin is, pulls her closer to him. Eventually her arms come up around his shoulders and she relaxes a little bit.
"Noah," she breathes out. She notices he squeezes her a little bit when she says his name. "This isn't..."
"Shut the fuck up for a sec," he says, and he turns her around so her back is to the bed, then walks as he kisses her. He's got her on her back and she's beneath him and her tongue's in his mouth, and hell yeah, this is happening. "You want it, right?"
He shouldn't have asked.
"No," she answers, even as she pulls him closer. She doesn't know what she's doing. Honestly, she shouldn't be letting this happening, and certainly not this easily. "We shouldn't...I don't want..." He presses his hand against her through her jeans and she moans, biting her lip. "Noah."
"You want, baby," he says smugly. "Trust me."
"I'm still mad at you," she says. He nods as he kisses her neck and slides down the zipper of her jeans. "And if you think I'm going to do what you originally wanted me to do..."
He laughs a little bit. "Blow me?"
She scowls. "You're crazy."
"No worries," he says, nipping at her lips as he palms her breast under her shirt. "'S'all about you."
She rolls her eyes, but he really means it. And maybe if he, you know, makes her come using every way he knows how, she'll want to return the favour. It could happen.
So he pulls down her jeans, takes her panties with them, and she's tugging off her sweater when he starts going down on her.
... ... ...
"This didn't mean anything, you know," she says as she pulls on her jeans. He's still laying in his bed with the covers pulled up to his chest. He's smirking at her, and it's a little hard not to just climb back in there with him and do all that again. For a third time.
"I know," he says, almost laughing. Like she has to tell him. "Break's almost over. We'll go back to school and whatever. And maybe in the summer if we're single or fucked up on margaritas, it'll happen again and still not mean anything."
She starts laughing and tugs her hair out of the back of her sweater. "You've got quite a way with words."
"Got a better way with my..."
"I'll stop you right there," she says, holding up her hand, eyes closed tight. She doesn't know how she ever managed to fall into bed with someone quite so vulgar. "I'll see you at the party."
"Hey, wait," he says, sitting up and reaching for her hand. "This was fun."
"It was."
"Glad we did it."
She nods, smiles at him. "Twice."
He's so fucking proud of her. That sounded like something he would have said.
"Wanna go for three?" he asks. He'd be crazy not to, right? She laughs again and shakes her head. Dammit. "Alright. Later, Rach."
He thinks she might say goodbye or something, but he's kinda busy staring at her ass as she leaves his room and doesn't really hear her.
... ... ...
It's so hot she feels like her clothes are completely sticking to her body, and if she'd known the Jones' put in a pool in the spring, she would have worn a bathing suit. She's trying to keep cool by drinking this cheap beer, but it's not really working out all that well.
She's standing on the back deck with her elbows on the wood railing, and she looks across the lawn to see Noah standing there with his shirt off, a cold beer in his hand.
She's single. She wonders if he is. She smiles, because she figures that can't hurt either way.
He didn't really mean to catch her eye, but it was bound to happen eventually. He's been looking at her all damn day. He just got home from Buffalo for the summer yesterday, and this is the first 'gathering' he's been to, and she's here with this little blue halter top on with her black shorts. Her hair is up and messy and she looks fucking stellar.
So he winks at her. He's pretty sure summer break is going to pick up right where winter break left off.
When she slips into the house after eye fucking him across the lawn, he follows after her. He finds her in the kitchen, walks up behind her and presses himself against her.
"Wanna go to our room?" he asks. She giggles a little and nudges a beer towards his hand. He takes it and she grabs his free hand, tugs him towards the stairs.
"I suppose one more time could be fun," she says coyly over her shoulder.
He smirks. "Yeah. One."
Prompts:
(816): I should take him calling me "a freak of nature" after sex as a compliment, right?
(585): I still have your handprint on my ass. You're not allowed to ignore me yet.
(864): Saying you want a bj does not count as saying you wanna see me btw.
Chapter: 1/1
Warning: Borderline NC-17-ish. And Puck is a giant jerk. Fictable prompt #49 - Winter (Other prompts for this are at the bottom, from TFLN.)
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: She supposes college is for this kind of thing. You know, hooking up with your ex-boyfriend over winter break.
Word Count: 7,581
Disclaimer: Don't own.
A/N: katertots_78 is awesome. That is all.
She supposes college is for this kind of thing.
You know, hooking up with your ex-boyfriend over winter break.
Or, you know, hooking up with your ex-boyfriend the second day (the first party) of winter break.
The thing is, New York is amazing. Winter there is beautiful. Bright and loud and joyful, and she easily jumped into the holiday spirit with the lights and the shopping and skating at Rockefeller Center with her friends a few days after the tree lighting.
She didn't want to come back to Ohio. She wanted to celebrate the holidays with her fathers, but she tried to convince them to come to New York. Turns out her uncle, who lives in New Mexico and never gets home to see family, was coming home to see family. Rachel really didn't have much of a choice. Her fathers couldn't visit her, and she wasn't about to stay away from home for the holidays. So she ended up flying into Cincinnati, where her fathers picked her up, and spending the evening catching up with them in person on all that 'changed' or happened since Thanksgiving.
She was pretty surprised when Mercedes texted her with about a million exclamation points and in all caps asked (told) Rachel to come to her place where everyone was meeting up. It's BYOB, which Rachel has learned means Bring Your Own Booze.
She's never been 'forbidden' to drink. Her fathers have always simply told her to do it responsibly, not to drive, and to at least attempt to make smart choices.
Rachel always makes smart choices.
But then after maybe a little too much wine, she realizes that everyone at this party is with someone. Finn brought with him the girl he's been dating since October. (Her name is Emily or something, and she's sweet enough, Rachel supposes, pretty and blonde and blue-eyed.) Mercedes and Mike have been dating since the beginning of senior year. Matt's girlfriend came home from school with him for the first part of break. Kurt's boyfriend, who he met at school, lives in Colorado, but the two are attached at all times via BBM. Tina and Artie are practically married, and Brittany and Santana are still whatever it is that they are. Quinn is dating Robert, the guy from West Lima she's been with for close to two years.
Rachel looks around the room and knows she's been single - has hardly had a date - since May when she and Finn broke up for the fourth and final time.
Then she realizes Noah is staring at her. With a (sexy) little smirk on his face. He's single, too, she knows. Of course he's single. The words Noah Puckerman and girlfriend don't even belong in the same sentence, unless he's talking about sleeping with someone else's or something like that.
She doesn't think she's making any sense. She knows she can't mess up a smile, so she sends him one of those. Her face feels hot when he winks at her.
Ten minutes later, they're in a bedroom and she's setting her glass on the dresser and turning to him just in time to catch him staring at her legs. Yes, she's wearing a dress in December. In her defense, it's casual and black and kind of sexy. She paid far too much for it, but it's probably the entire reason he's even looking at her, so she doesn't care.
"'Sup?" he asks, voice all deep, and was it always that sexy?
Still, she really doesn't know how to respond to such a question.
"I...You asked me up here," she reminds him.
He laughs softly and moves towards her, and it's like downstairs, only better because they're alone. He'd just walked over to her and rest his hand on the mantel so he was kind of boxing her in. He asked about New York and she asked about the school in Buffalo he was attending, and when he leaned in and asked her if she wanted to go someplace quiet to talk, she nodded and walked away with him, not caring at all that everyone would know what was about to happen.
She knows what's about to happen.
"It's pretty cute, how fucking clueless you are," he tells her, smiling as he grips her hips and pulls her towards him. He's already hard, and she doesn't know how that's possible, but she certainly likes that she's responsible for it.
"I'm not clueless," she insists. She trails her hand down his chest and around his back. "Are you just doing this with me because I'm the only single girl at the party?"
That feels pretty important. Not that she's going to stop. She doesn't want to, for some reason. Again, single since May. That's probably why.
And it's not like she hasn't been curious about Noah's abilities in the bedroom. For Pete's sake, he managed to not only seduce, but impregnate, the queen of the chastity ball. And he's a very good kisser. And that was nearly three years ago. She's always wondered if he'd be able to...Well, she's always wondered. She's only been with one other boy, and it was his best friend. Not that Finn couldn't satisfy her, but Noah...
He's just looking at her and her knees are a little weak.
"Basically," he answers, pulling her from her thoughts. "But you look fucking sexy, too." He looks her up and down, runs a hand over her hip and up her side to cup her breast. They haven't even kissed and he's touching her like this, and she really, really likes it. "You wore this dress tonight? Practically begging to be fucked."
"Noah," she whispers, ducking her head. "I didn't know...I didn't plan..."
"You didn't dress like this 'cause you knew Finn'd be here?" he asks with a smirk.
She pulls away a little bit, only to have him hold her closer. "It doesn't matter to me what Finn does, and I certainly don't do anything for him."
He leans forward, licks the shell of her ear. "What're you gonna do for me?"
It almost startles her, how forward he's being. It shouldn't, because she knows how he operates and she's been pursued by men in New York who use similar tactics (albeit with much less success). And she doesn't want him to think she doesn't want this or she's unsure. She knows she wants this. She loves the way he's pressed against her and how his lips are traveling slowly over her jaw and neck. It's amazing. It feels better than she even thought it would. She's admittedly a little scared of how good she's bound to feel once things progress a little further.
So because she doesn't want him thinking she is going to back out, she figures she can at least act incredibly confident until she actually is. And she's getting there rather quickly, since it's clear he wants her. Badly.
She pulls away a little bit, puts some distance between them and looks at him through her eyelashes as she smiles. She can tell he's not sure if he should be annoyed or excited. The answer is clear when she reaches for the hem of her dress.
"What do you want me to do for you?" she asks, pulling up the fabric and tugging it over her head. She's left standing in a black bra and matching panties, and he groans.
"Fuck me," he mumbles, looking her up and down, and she knows he doesn't mean it as an answer to her question.
She giggles a little and pushes herself back onto the bed so she's sitting back against the pillows. "How am I supposed to do that when you're still wearing clothes?"
He's smiling as he starts unbuttoning his shirt, watching her as she watches him.
"Not yet," he says once he's got his shirt on the floor and his pants undone. She'd swear he was teasing her if she thought he was the type.
"What?" she asks quietly, meeting his eyes.
Okay, his body is rather distracting, tight in all the right places, curves and angles and...Well, she's spent some time in the past looking at it. He smiles and joins her on the bed, pushes her thighs apart. She sucks in a breath and he lifts her leg, kisses the inside of her knee, up her thigh.
"Not gonna fuck you yet," he tells her. All she can do is nod. He kisses her through her panties, presses his tongue against the fabric she knows is already wet. "Want me, huh?"
He sounds cocky and conceited, and she'd berate herself for finding even that sexy, but he's pulling her panties down her legs and she figures her bra should go, too. He takes a moment to look at her, laid out on this huge bed in this random room in Mercedes' house. She feels bad about that for almost a second, then he tells her how 'fucking hot' she is, and it's not like they're going to leave and go anywhere else.
His tongue meets bare skin and she kind of loses her mind a bit. He talks to her while he goes down on her, which she's obviously never experienced before. (Finn could barely walk and chew gum at the same time.) He tells her she tastes good, that she's warm and soft and smooth and he can't wait to be inside her. He asks her if she's on the pill and she says yes (partly because she is, partly because he pushes his fingers into her and it feels almost, almost like what she needs). He says it's a good thing, because he's wanted to fuck her since they dated, and he doesn't want to do it with a condom, wants to feel her come around him and wants to come inside her.
She'd normally argue and insist she's not doing this unprotected, but there's always been an innate, and perhaps ill-advised, trust between the two of them. And she wants all that probably as bad as he does. She's never had sex without a condom, but she's craving it right now.
"Focus, baby," he laughs, looking up at her. "Thinking too hard."
Her hands are in his hair and she swears she's a completely different person when she says, "make me stop."
He grins, kisses from her hip bone back to her center as he slides his fingers in and out of her. "How 'bout I make you come?" he asks.
She manages to breathe out, "okay," and ignores the way he chuckles softly before he focuses his tongue on pleasuring her rather than talking to her.
Her toes curl and she sees white when she falls over the edge, and he continues working her with his tongue even as she says his name and a series of vowels and clutches the bedspread.
"Oh my god," she murmurs, arm thrown over her eyes as she comes back into her body a bit more. She's vaguely aware that he's moving around, and she tenses when she feels something against her lips. It's his hand, specifically his fingers, and she locks eyes with him as she pulls them past her lips and swirls her tongue around them.
"Fuck," he says darkly, and it's then that she realizes he's shucked his pants and boxers. The hand that isn't in her mouth is around his length, stroking expertly, and she reaches out for him, catches his wrist and half pulls him closer, half pushes herself down the bed so she's flat on her back.
"Please," she whispers, and he kisses her lips for the first time. She laughs a little when she realizes, and he doesn't ask her why, just smiles at her and kisses her again, and when his tongue is in her mouth she spreads her legs open. "Noah."
"Love that," he mumbles. She furrows her brow. "My name. You saying it."
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and angles her hips, pressing them against his. "Noah, please, just..." He pushes into her when they're looking at one another. "Oh god."
... ... ...
He walks her home after.
Well, at like, 5:00 a.m., 'cause that shit went all night long, and fuck, the least he can do is make sure she, you know, doesn't pass out in a snowbank or something. Girl has to be tired after fucking like that. And being fucked like that. It was a joint effort, that's for sure.
To be honest, he always thought she'd be fucking dynamite in bed. She's all crazy and intense about everything. How could she not be a total animal?
Actually, after the first time (after she made him come so hard he kinda fell on her - and she liked it) he called her a freak of nature, and he really, really hopes she knows that's a really good thing. She's flexible as hell, and when he lifted her leg up over his shoulder, it was so easy she didn't even blink. This was all great. All of it. Then, after riding him for a while they, like, somehow did some Jedi Mind Trick shit and decided to switch up positions, she got on her hands and knees and looked at him over her shoulder.
Fuckin' a.
So yeah, she was way more into it than he ever thought she'd be. Pretty awesome.
She's twisting the strap of her purse in her hands and they haven't really talked in a while. The house was quiet when they left, but Puck's pretty sure at least half of their friends had to have heard Rachel screaming his name. She's not exactly quiet. It's fucking sexy.
As far as one night stands go, this was one of the best.
They get to her door and he's freezing his nuts off, which is really shitty, 'cause they should really only ever feel good, if you think about it. She looks at him and he smiles, because she's a bit of a mess. Her makeup is smudged, and her lips are all red from a fucking lot of kissing (and a little going down on him), and her hair is just in a ponytail, not down and perfectly curled like it was earlier. He thought she looked hot before. She looks better now.
"Um, thank you for walking me home," she says politely, looking up at him. He smirks and leans against the door frame.
It's obvious she's never done this before. He's enough of an asshole to make it as uncomfortable for her as possible.
"Thanks for letting me fuck you barebacked multiple times."
"Noah," she gasps, looking around. He wants to remind her that it's not even light out yet, and there's certainly not anyone around to hear him. "My fathers are..."
"What?" he asks, backing her against the door. "Don't want them to know how dirty their little girl is?"
See, this is weird to him, because behind closed doors she was literally a vixen, almost too much to handle (almost). Now that they're back to 'real life' or whatever, she's all shy about it and stuff. And what's with that? How's she two different people, he has no idea.
"I think everyone who currently needs to know that bit of information, knows," she says quietly. He laughs softly and she fishes her keys from her purse. "Okay, well..."
"Yeah," he says, and really, no matter how many times he does this shit, he never really perfects the brush off.
I mean, come on. It's Rachel. She's probably like, planning their wedding and naming their babies in her head or some shit, and honestly? No. Sure, the sex was fucking amazing, but he's not about to sign up for a lifetime of anything. With anyone. Least of all with her.
"I'll see you around," he says. She looks hurt for a second, then just takes a breath and smiles before fitting the key in the lock.
"Maybe," she says, and for some reason he feels like maybe she's the one brushing him off or something. He was vague, but she was vaguer. Is that a word? Shit. He's...this is fucked.
She turns to walk into the house, and his hand connects with her ass in the same place it did earlier, though that was harder and skin on skin.
He's halfway home when he calls Chang and Rutherford, 'cause honestly, fuck them if they think it's not a 5 dollar breakfast morning.
... ... ...
The only time Rachel can recall being so sore was when she was 13 and sprained her ankle and had to step away from dancing for four weeks. When she returned, she had to work twice as hard to get into shape, and her body did not approve of all the extra work.
This is like that, only different muscles, and she blushes when she thinks of how she got like this, gingerly laying down in her bed after a long bath.
She knew it would be a good time. She knew he'd be skilled and get her to the place she wanted to go, several times. She didn't know she'd feel such a strong urge to please him, too. Judging from her limited experience, it isn't all that hard for men to find that release. Noah's stamina and control was impressive.
Her only concern was that perhaps she'd been a little loud. But he didn't seem to mind that at all, and she honestly doesn't think she would have been able to stop herself if she'd tried. And she's an adult. She can do whatever she wants. And apparently, she wanted Noah Puckerman.
She looks down and sees the hickey on her breast and the bruise on her hip from his hand. The inside of her thighs are a little red. She should not find it all as sexy as she does. She thinks about it, though, the way he'd pushed into her (from so many different angles her head spins to try and recall) and the way he'd said her name when he let go, and she smiles and gets that feeling in her stomach, and part of her (her body) wishes he were here right now to do it again. Her head, however, knows that the way he said goodbye was his somewhat polite way of telling her not to hold her breath and wait for a call that would never come.
Her phone rings.
She reaches over and sees that it's Mercedes, and she's immediately blushing. Against her better judgment, she answers.
"Well, well," Mercedes says. "I'm surprised you can even talk today."
Rachel closes her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Girl, you did some serious shouting last night," Mercedes laughs. Rachel groans and buries her face in her pillow. How embarrassing. "You and Puck?"
"Don't...Just don't."
"Well, at least it was obviously good."
"I'm not...I won't justify that."
"Rachel, we all heard you. Either you're a damn good actress, or you got yours. Over and over again."
Rachel lets out a breath. "Look, it was...It was one night. Nothing for everyone to get all crazy over. Surely you've all had random hookups."
"Hey, no one's judging," Mercedes says laughingly. "I'm just sayin'. We all had to move to the other side of the house."
"Stop it!" Rachel hisses. "It couldn't have been that bad."
Mercedes just laughs a little harder. "You can ask everyone later. We're all going to see The Polar Express tonight."
"Oh, I don't know if..."
"Rach, you're coming." Rachel knows she can't really argue, and that actually sounds like fun, if she can get over the embarrassment of everyone having heard her having sex with another of their friends. "And you can call Puck and invite him. 9:00 at the Mayfair."
"Mercedes!"
The line goes dead and Rachel throws her phone to the other side of the bed. She really, really hates these people sometimes.
She stands up and heads over to her bathroom for a drink of water. She's wearing just a tee shirt and a pair of panties, and she catches sight of something red in the mirror. Tugging down the waistband of her panties, she sees a very distinct impression on her right buttock. It's a hand. It's his hand.
She heads back into her room, grabs her phone and scrolls through until she finds his name, then hits send. He doesn't answer, and she's not at all surprised. She wonders if he would have answered if they hadn't hooked up. Probably not, she deduces.
"Noah, it's Rachel," she starts. She's most certainly not going to lead him to believe that she's calling like some desperate girl. "Mercedes wanted me to call you and let you know everyone's going to a movie tonight at 9:00. It's at the Mayfair."
She hangs up without another word, and she thinks she should plan revenge on Mercedes for stirring the pot in such a way.
... ... ...
"What'd she want?" Finn asks after Puck has checked his voicemail. His girlfriend is out doing stuff with Kurt and his mom, so he and Puck are playing Call of Duty in Puck's room.
And honestly, Puck was pretty sure Finn was going to lose his shit over the whole Rachel thing. In high school, during one of Finn and Rachel's breakups, Matt took her to homecoming and Finn had to be held back so he didn't punch the guy in the face. But Puck just supposes Finn and Rachel are really as over as she said they are. It's not like he really has an opinion on all that, he just thinks it's pretty awesome that he's not laid out on the floor getting hit right now.
"Everyone's going to a movie. She invited me," he says, un-pausing the game.
"I knew about the movie. I was supposed to tell you. Why would she call?"
"Mercedes is being a shit disturber as usual," Puck mumbles.
"You gonna go?"
"Why would I?"
"Everyone else is," Finn says with a shrug.
"So?" Puck laughs. "I don't need Rachel getting all clingy and shit, okay? It hasn't even been 24 hours and she's already called."
"Dude, she invited you to a movie with all our friends. Not like she's going to mount you in the middle of a theater."
Very briefly, Puck thinks about how awesome that would be.
"It's like a big date. Fuck that. Don't need her getting any ideas."
Finn shakes his head. "You're such a dick. And you're coming. It's Saturday night. What else are you going to do? Everyone else we know is going to the movie."
Puck rolls his eyes. He fucking hates it when Finn's right.
So that's how he ends up standing in the freezing cold with Finn, Emily, and Kurt, waiting for everyone else to show up. And no, no one told him the movie they're seeing is a fucking cartoon. A Christmas cartoon.
"Dude, I'm Jewish. What the fuck am I even doing here?" he asks after a while. He sees Mercedes and Mike walking towards them.
"They're not going to ask your religion at the door," Finn laughs, pulling Emily a little closer to him. It's fucking freezing out. "You sure you aren't just scared of seeing Rachel?"
"Shut up," Puck warns.
Kurt snickers and shakes his head. "You could have told her to shut up last night, before we were all subjected to hearing her scream your name."
He can't help it. He has to smirk. Yeah, she is kind of a screamer. As if he was going to tell her to quiet down.
They all stand there waiting, and Rachel is one of the last to arrive. She shows up a few minutes before Brittany and Santana. She's wearing this black jacket and a little black knit hat with her hair braided and over her shoulder. Her jeans are dark and tight, and she's got them tucked into a pair of leather boots. She definitely looks good.
She also ignores him. She talks to Emily, which everyone (especially Finn) thinks is totally fucked up and turns her back to Puck, and yeah, maybe he checks her out, but only because she's super hot, and only when no one else is looking.
He doesn't know whose fucking bright idea it is to sit them next to one another, but if someone's playing matchmaker, he's going to find out who it is and throw hands. Seriously. They all have this romantic notion that sex equals relationship, and it fucking doesn't, okay? He can have sex with someone and not, like, marry them.
He's starting to think fucking Rachel was a really bad idea. Yeah, it was a shitload of fun at the time, but it's kind of looking like a mistake now.
Her arm brushes his on the armrest, and he looks at her with his brow furrowed when she doesn't move it.
"What?" she snaps. "You could be a gentleman for once in your life and relinquish the armrest to the woman next to you."
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Fuck that." The lights go down, and she's sipping from her drink while he sits there, relatively miserable. He leans over to speak into her ear. "We're bad Jews," he tells her. "This is totally a..."
"Shhh," she hisses, shrugging her shoulder in an attempt to get him away.
He doesn't appreciate the brush off. He's pretty sure she's pissed at him for doing it to her. He should be happy she's not all clingy and desperate and shit, and he is, really. But he really doesn't appreciate it when Santana leans over a few minutes later and tells him he and Rachel have more sexual tension now that they've fucked. It's not like that.
So he'll just ignore Rachel completely, and maybe that'll make them both happy.
The movie ends and they file out of the theater. He grumbles that he just lost two hours of his life that he'll never get back. Brittany puts her arms around his neck, hangs off his back and tells him to stop being such a Scrooge, and he manages a smile before he shakes her off and sets her on her feet. Someone suggests they go for hot chocolate, and since Finn drove him and he's going, Puck's kind of forced into it. Great.
It'd be way easier to ignore Rachel if people weren't always looking from her to him as if they're waiting for a shouting match or for Rachel to jump him or something. He's not gonna yell at her unless she starts talking crazy or tries to hold his hand or some shit. There has been no risk of that so far.
Until they come out of the bathroom at the same time. She's rubbing her hands together and he looks at her, and she stops in her tracks and closes her eyes, like she doesn't want this to be happening as much as he doesn't want it to be happening.
"Hi," she says. He juts his chin in her direction and starts to walk away, but she places her hand on his arm and he stops, looks at her. "Noah, can we please try to make this less awkward?"
"What's awkward?" he asks. "We barely spoke before, we're barely speaking now."
She rolls her eyes. "Right. But everyone knows we slept together. The least we can do is make an effort to act like friends."
He tilts his head at her as if to remind her that they were never really friends at all. "Can't we just ignore each other?"
"Considering your hand print is on my behind? I think we're past that point."
He tries not to smirk, but he can't help it. Yeah, he might have gotten her a little hard. She definitely didn't mind, though.
He leans in closer to her, rests his hand above her shoulder against the wall, and he can tell she thinks he's going to kiss her. He's not.
"You can just treat this like a practice run for the next guy you spread your legs for. Obviously, you don't know a one night stand when you see one."
Her jaw drops and her eyes narrow. She shoves him away and he follows her as she stomps down the hallway and back into the cafe. She grabs her coat off the back of the chair she'd been sitting in, and stuffs her arms through the sleeves. He walks up just in time to hear her.
"I'm going home," she states.
"What? Why?" Tina asks confusedly. Rachel looks over her shoulder at him, which is pretty much the equivalent of throwing him under the bus.
"I'm just tired," she says.
Everyone watches her storm out of the cafe before they collectively turn to look at him. He sits down in his chair, takes a sip of his coffee and shrugs his shoulder like none of it is his fault.
... ... ...
Their friends get significantly better at separating the two of them, and she doesn't see him for nearly a week. When she does, it's in passing, when she's in Mercedes' car and they're picking Emily up from Finn's house so the girls can go shopping, and Puck is getting out of his truck in Finn's driveway to spend a day watching sports with the guys.
Rachel wonders if sports and Noah might be better than shopping and Emily, but she can't really say anything about it.
It's not that she doesn't like Emily. The girl is sweet and nice, but she's Finn's new girlfriend, and Rachel is the girl Finn dated on and off for two and a half years, so there's some discomfort there. But yet again, Mercedes wasn't taking no for an answer, so here Rachel is, sandwiched between Santana and Emily in the very back of the Jones' SUV.
Rachel has been replaying Noah's words in her head for days. Honestly, she expected him to be kind of cold. He made it very clear that what happened was a one time only thing, and she was fine with that. She didn't expect him to be her boyfriend or anything stupid like that. She doesn't want him to be. A little respect would be nice. It's not like they were the best of friends before, but the least he could do would be to act like she's not some slut he picked up in a bar.
Mike asks her about it one night when everyone else is tobogganing and they're sitting it out. She can't risk injury and he's afraid of heights. The top of the hill is a long way from the bottom, so the two of them sit in Mercedes' SUV so they can watch, but still listen to music and be warm.
She tells him it's nothing, that Noah can do whatever he wants, whether that includes her or not. Mike just says her name and shakes his head like he doesn't believe her, and she changes the subject rather quickly. It bothers her that no one seems to understand that she can have a one night stand just as easily as anyone else.
She just wishes she'd picked someone outside her circle of friends.
... ... ...
He really, really fucking wishes everyone'd get off his back about the whole Rachel thing. To be honest, he's starting to realize he fucked up.
Mostly because he's aching to have sex (literally aching) and if he'd played his cards right, he could be having sex with Rachel at any given moment instead of realizing that there are no girls in Lima who are available and who he'd fuck. He could have had an entire break of amazing hook ups with Rachel if he'd put a little more thought into it instead of his cut and run instincts kicking in. He was so concerned with her not getting all clingy that he didn't realize that her clinging a little (to his dick) would have been awesome.
Too late for that, he supposes, even as he holds his phone in his hand and looks down at her name in his list of contacts.
... ... ...
She's leaving in a few days to go back to New York, and there's one more party everyone will be attending. It's nearly New Years, and she's got a new dress and a pair of heels she loves. It's not for two days, the party, but she's got everything set out, dress hanging on the back of her closet door. Kurt picked out the accessories he wanted, and she's picked different ones.
And maybe a little bit of her motivation is Noah and knowing he'll be there, and really, she can't be faulted for wanting to look her best and rub it all in his face a little bit.
Her cell rings and she turns down the music she has playing before reaching for her phone.
She almost drops it when she sees that it's Noah.
She has no intentions of answering.
... ... ...
"Hey. I uh, you know, just wanted to see if you're going to the party or whatever. Pretty fucked that we can't even be in the same place at the same time now. Guess that's somehow my fault. Anyway, whatever. I'll see you there."
He groans and lays back on his bed when he ends the call, because fuck, that was pretty much the stupidest message he could have ever left. He was a dick. That's why they can't be in the same place at the same time now.
And the only reason he called her in the first place is because he's half-hard and thinking about her and his jeans need to come off, and it would have been a lot more fun if she was the one to take them off.
She's not. Fucking sucks.
... ... ...
Rachel laughs out loud when she listens to the message. He's just such a jackass, honestly. She doesn't think he could be more clueless if he tried. People call her the naive one, and perhaps she is from time to time, but she's never stupid, which frankly, she thinks sometimes he is.
She doesn't even get to her bedroom door when her phone vibrates in her hand, indicating she's got a text message.
Come on, Rach. Really wanna see you.
She shakes her head. Forgive her if she has a hard time believing him.
... ... ...
When she walks into his bedroom, he's wearing only his jeans (unzipped and with a pair of plaid boxers underneath). He doesn't have a shirt on. Honestly, he wasn't expecting a guest. And if she'd shown up five minutes ago, she would have gotten an eyeful of him jerking off thinking about her. Shit, that could have been hot.
"Uh. Hi."
"I let myself in. I knocked, but no one answered," she says evenly, arms crossed over her chest.
"You make a habit of walking into peoples' houses?" he asks. He puts one hand behind his head as he lays there.
"Do you make a habit of being this rude to the women you sleep with?" she asks. She rolls her eyes at herself. "Of course you do."
"Hey," he says, furrowing his brow. "You don't know shit about me."
"I know you better than you'd think. I've known you for years. And you seem to think you have me all figured out anyway," she argues.
She's kinda hot when she's all pissy like this. And her tits look awesome when she's pushing them up like that. Maybe it's not on purpose, but whatever. Mission accomplished if she's trying to make him crazy. And hard again. All he can think is that if she somehow ends up naked, he'll be able to fuck her so good, since he just rubbed one out, and, oh shit, is she talking?
"...For a week, and that voicemail? That was a pathetic attempt, at best," she says. She's pacing his floor, and at some point, she closed the door. "Actually, what was the most pathetic thing was the text message."
He's sick of her getting all self-righteous and bitchy. He figures he should just lay it all out there and the worst that can happen is she'll get pissed and leave. They'll go to this party, then leave town, then he'll go back to Buffalo and find some girl to fuck. If he could fuck Rachel first, that's good, too.
He stands from the bed and walks towards her, reaches for her and sets his hands on her hips.
She is very aware that he's half-naked and his pants are undone.
"Kinda wanted you to blow me." She barks out a laugh and puts her hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly, but not enough that he's not touching her. "What? You give good head, baby."
"I'm sorry. I don't see how 'I want to see you' translates into that," she says, still laughing. "And you may think that's some kind of compliment, and I suppose in some twisted way it is, but it's certainly not romantic, and it's certainly not the way to..."
He kisses her, because fuck, there's way too much talking going on right now, and she wouldn't have shown up if she didn't want this as badly as he does. She tries to push him away at first, but he slides his hand beneath her sweater and feels how hot her skin is, pulls her closer to him. Eventually her arms come up around his shoulders and she relaxes a little bit.
"Noah," she breathes out. She notices he squeezes her a little bit when she says his name. "This isn't..."
"Shut the fuck up for a sec," he says, and he turns her around so her back is to the bed, then walks as he kisses her. He's got her on her back and she's beneath him and her tongue's in his mouth, and hell yeah, this is happening. "You want it, right?"
He shouldn't have asked.
"No," she answers, even as she pulls him closer. She doesn't know what she's doing. Honestly, she shouldn't be letting this happening, and certainly not this easily. "We shouldn't...I don't want..." He presses his hand against her through her jeans and she moans, biting her lip. "Noah."
"You want, baby," he says smugly. "Trust me."
"I'm still mad at you," she says. He nods as he kisses her neck and slides down the zipper of her jeans. "And if you think I'm going to do what you originally wanted me to do..."
He laughs a little bit. "Blow me?"
She scowls. "You're crazy."
"No worries," he says, nipping at her lips as he palms her breast under her shirt. "'S'all about you."
She rolls her eyes, but he really means it. And maybe if he, you know, makes her come using every way he knows how, she'll want to return the favour. It could happen.
So he pulls down her jeans, takes her panties with them, and she's tugging off her sweater when he starts going down on her.
... ... ...
"This didn't mean anything, you know," she says as she pulls on her jeans. He's still laying in his bed with the covers pulled up to his chest. He's smirking at her, and it's a little hard not to just climb back in there with him and do all that again. For a third time.
"I know," he says, almost laughing. Like she has to tell him. "Break's almost over. We'll go back to school and whatever. And maybe in the summer if we're single or fucked up on margaritas, it'll happen again and still not mean anything."
She starts laughing and tugs her hair out of the back of her sweater. "You've got quite a way with words."
"Got a better way with my..."
"I'll stop you right there," she says, holding up her hand, eyes closed tight. She doesn't know how she ever managed to fall into bed with someone quite so vulgar. "I'll see you at the party."
"Hey, wait," he says, sitting up and reaching for her hand. "This was fun."
"It was."
"Glad we did it."
She nods, smiles at him. "Twice."
He's so fucking proud of her. That sounded like something he would have said.
"Wanna go for three?" he asks. He'd be crazy not to, right? She laughs again and shakes her head. Dammit. "Alright. Later, Rach."
He thinks she might say goodbye or something, but he's kinda busy staring at her ass as she leaves his room and doesn't really hear her.
... ... ...
It's so hot she feels like her clothes are completely sticking to her body, and if she'd known the Jones' put in a pool in the spring, she would have worn a bathing suit. She's trying to keep cool by drinking this cheap beer, but it's not really working out all that well.
She's standing on the back deck with her elbows on the wood railing, and she looks across the lawn to see Noah standing there with his shirt off, a cold beer in his hand.
She's single. She wonders if he is. She smiles, because she figures that can't hurt either way.
He didn't really mean to catch her eye, but it was bound to happen eventually. He's been looking at her all damn day. He just got home from Buffalo for the summer yesterday, and this is the first 'gathering' he's been to, and she's here with this little blue halter top on with her black shorts. Her hair is up and messy and she looks fucking stellar.
So he winks at her. He's pretty sure summer break is going to pick up right where winter break left off.
When she slips into the house after eye fucking him across the lawn, he follows after her. He finds her in the kitchen, walks up behind her and presses himself against her.
"Wanna go to our room?" he asks. She giggles a little and nudges a beer towards his hand. He takes it and she grabs his free hand, tugs him towards the stairs.
"I suppose one more time could be fun," she says coyly over her shoulder.
He smirks. "Yeah. One."
Prompts:
(816): I should take him calling me "a freak of nature" after sex as a compliment, right?
(585): I still have your handprint on my ass. You're not allowed to ignore me yet.
(864): Saying you want a bj does not count as saying you wanna see me btw.