Title: Fake Sick, Real Love
Category: Glee
Genre: Humor/Romance
Ship: Rachel/Puck
Rating: Teen
Warning(s): Coarse Language
Prompt: Rachel is supposed to go out with her boyfriend for the night but suddenly Puck gets really "sick" and wants Rachel to take care of him, and she ditches the bf to take care of him. End up getting together and Rachel ditches the other dude. – puckrachel drabble meme
Word Count: 3,394
Summary: "I would like to remind you that it was you who just engaged in a very childish temper-tantrum about my relationship with Kelly and whom revealed his feelings in a curse-word laden diatribe."

Fake Sick, Real Love
-1/1-

Rachel was putting the finishing touches on her outfit when she got the call. "Noah?" Her brows furrowed at the hacking cough that answered. "Are-Are you all right?" She couldn't help the way her chest ached suddenly, how her first thought was 'Do I have any chicken noodle soup?' She was a vegan, a strict one at that, but Noah liked his Campbell's when he was feeling ill and now she was calculating how long it would take to get to the nearest grocery store and pick him up a few cans. Did she even have time?

She'd made plans with Kelly and he was really looking forward to the foreign movie he'd gotten them early tickets to. They had only just made things official a few days ago, to cancel their date now might seem rude. She tapped her chin, eyes squinted thoughtfully.

"Rach?" Noah mumbled into the phone. "How high does a fever have to be before I like croak?"

Her eyes widened and suddenly Kelly and subtitled films didn't matter. "Noah Puckerman, get into bed right this second and keep warm. I'll be over in twenty minutes!"

"Yeah? 'Coz I know you had plans with the fem-dude?"

She rolled her eyes, even though she found her lips tweaking with amusement. "I've kindly asked you stop referring to him as that, Noah. Just because his name—"

"Is a fucking girl's name! The hell, Berry!"

"You know, you're starting to sound less and less sick the more we talk," she said, frowning.

He coughed. Thick and rattling and it actually made her pulse spike, because it sounded bad. "Oh dear, are you sure you don't want me to call your mother? Perhaps it would be smarter to get her professional opinion. That cough alone sounds something much worse than the common flu—"

"No!" he said quickly. "Uh, she's probably working, like, really busy. Just, uh, just get me my soup and like some halls or something… 'm sure it'll be gone by tomorrow."

Rachel fiddled with her skirt. She'd dressed up to impress Kelly, but it looked like it wasn't going to be needed. Although, now that she thought about it, it might just make Puck feel better. He did like to tease her that her short skirts were God's gift to him. "Are you in bed yet?" she wondered.

"I like where this is going, Berry…"

She scoffed. "Is your sister there? Maybe she could get you an extra blanket…"

"Nah, she's at her friends… and now that you brought it up, I'm really cold."

Her eyes darted to the clock once more as she chewed her lip. "Okay. Just—Just stay warm and I'll be there soon." Hanging up the phone, she moved across her room, kicking off her heels and dragging on a pair of flats. She grabbed a shoulder-bag from her closet and made her way downstairs to raid the cupboards. While Noah didn't like her many vegan-friendly snacks, he did have an affinity for most of her daddy's sugary alternatives. She grabbed a few peanut-butter and chocolate granola bars for him to snack on, the cherry Gatorade's her dad kept stocked up on, and some salted-top crackers. Now that she was wondering if it was just a head cold, she wasn't sure if he might not want something to soothe his stomach, like Ginger Ale, but decided to pick some up from the store just in case.

A little more than twenty minutes later, Rachel pulled her car into the Puckerman driveway and climbed the porch to his door. Upon finding it locked, she fished the spare key out from beneath the fake rock in Mrs. Puckerman's overgrown flowerbeds. Letting herself inside, she went first to the kitchen to put on a pot of soup and fill a glass with Ginger Ale. Climbing the stairs, she paused at his sister's room to be sure that Danni really had been out – Noah had become a good friend, but he still carried an unhealthy affection for little white lies – and found the very pink bedroom empty of the sweet girl she'd come to know in the last few months. Since her break-up with Finn, she'd found herself spending most of her time with Noah, the only person in glee who found it in them to speak up on her behalf and claim to like her, even a little bit. She'd become close with his sister and mother, both of whom seemed to like her very much, and so she was familiar with the Puckerman house and its many clashing personalities.

Crossing the hall a ways, she came to Noah's room and found the door ajar. Nudging it further open with her shoulder, she stepped through to find him sprawled out on his bed, muscular arms crossed behind his head while he watched a Simpson's rerun. He didn't look sick, but when he saw her and started to sit up, he began coughing heavily. It was all dry hacking that made his shoulders shake violently and her eyes widened with concern. Crossing the room quickly, she dropped his Ginger Ale to the bedside table and took a seat on the bed next to him. Immediately, the back of her hand pressed to his forehead while her other hand palmed his cheek. "You feel a little warm…" she murmured, chewing her lip.

"Yeah, 'm supposed to like keep extra warm though even if I got a fever, right?" His brow cocked. "You should climb in and share some body heat, Berry."

She rolled her eyes at him lightly, completely used to his brazen suggestions now. While it still made her stomach twist and clench in an entirely good way, she avoided letting her emotions get attached. As she'd told him before, what seemed like a lifetime ago, she always wanted things too much. Noah was meant to be her friend, and though he was flirty and confident and made her feel like more of a woman than her last three boyfriends ever had, she wasn't about to jeopardize what they had for the firing of her teenage hormones.

"I put soup on," she told him instead, pushing him back to lean into his pillows, which she then stood to fluff.

His eyes lit up. "Campbell's?"

She smiled. "As if I would sully you with anything less."

He smirked. "You rock."

She shrugged lightly, even as his praise made her skin warm. "I have my moments."

He shoved his arms behind his head again and she wasn't so in control that she didn't notice how they flexed, the muscles moving deliciously beneath tanned skin. She might have noticed him smirk when she watched if she hadn't been so intent on seeing the play of masculinity dance before her eyes. Licking her suddenly dry lips, she stepped back from his bed. "I-I picked you up some Halls, too. Cherry, because I know it's your favorite." She wrinkled her nose but reached inside her bag to pull out a few packs. "I also brought you crackers and some of those granola bars you like. I was going to pick up fruit, oranges especially, Vitamin C can only do you favors. But I wasn't sure how your stomach was faring and so I stuck to basics."

He smiled up at her; a genuine, lop-sided grin. "Sorry you're stuck here with me," he said, picking absently at his blanket. "Friday night, I know you had plans."

He didn't look very sorry at all, she thought. "I'm sure Kelly will—" Her eyes widened. "Oh no… I didn't call him. He—" She glanced at the time. "He's probably sitting outside my house right now, wondering where I am."

"Sure he'll understand." Noah shrugged, unconcerned.

And perhaps, yes, Kelly would've understood that she was simply being there for a friend when he was in need. It was only the right thing to do, after all. If it was anybody except Noah, she was absolutely certain Kelly would have agreed that it was okay. Except, he didn't really like Noah. And the feeling was all too mutual. When she'd introduced them a week prior, they did little more than glare and grunt at each other, and later when she asked Noah what he thought about Kelly, he'd told her bluntly, "Douche is a douche."

And then, of course, Kelly had not-so-subtly told her, "He couldn't keep his Neanderthal eyes off you… Do all of your friends touch you that much? And exactly why did he keep calling me Fem-Boy?" So they all agreed that maybe Kelly and Noah shouldn't spend any time together and though it made things a little more complicated, she had realized that in the long run, it was just less of a hassle.

Leaving the room, Rachel made her way downstairs to call Kelly and check on Noah's soup. But seeing as she was calling from the Puckerman landline, it would appear that her boyfriend was not answering because of whose name was showing up. She would have to talk to him about that late, she decided. Pouring Noah's soup into his favorite bowl, she climbed the stairs slowly so not to spill it or burn herself and when she stepped inside, she found him sitting up with the blanket pooled at his lap, a very naked chest on display while he channel surfed through various shows. "Smallville's on," he told her absently. "Long as we watch Supernatural after, I'm down."

Tearing her eyes away and forcing them on his soup, she smiled, nodding quickly. Just because he was attractive didn't mean she had to ogle him like a piece of meat, she told herself.

Placing his soup on the end table, she stepped back and waited for him to turn to eat. When his legs hit the ground and he'd moved to the edge of his bed, she wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, smoothing it out with her hands across his shoulders, before she took a seat next to him.

"You hungry?" he asked her, barely pausing to blow on his spoon before he stuffed it into his mouth.

She shook her head. "I already ate. With the movie starting at eight-thirty, Kelly and I weren't sure we'd make it to dinner. And you shouldn't change your eating habits too much on a daily basis, it's not good for you digestive system."

He cocked a brow at her that said You're kinda crazy, Berry, but it's all right.

She smiled, eyes darting back to the TV as Smallville came on. "I wish Chloe hadn't left for the last season," she sighed, watching the opening credits with a frown. "She was finally getting her happily ever after with Oliver… After so many seasons of her pining after Clark, she was going to get a hero of her own, one who wasn't already predestined for somebody else."

"You're a little too invested, babe," Noah told her, chuckling.

"I just found Chloe's character likeable," she argued, playing with her fingers in her lap. "I could relate to her. Finn was my Clark, Noah… He was the good, wholesome boy who made me feel things and led me on, even when he didn't always mean to, only to fall in love with my much more beautiful cousin…" She pursed her lips. "Thankfully, however, Santana and I are not related."

"Him and San aren't in love, B. They're screwing around… Sex isn't love. Lust isn't love…" He raised a brow at her. "And even if he did pick her, it's his fucking loss."

She smiled up at him then. "Did you know that was much like what Oliver said to Chloe back in season nine?" She swooned a little bit. "You know, ignoring your general lack of heroic tendencies and the fact that you wouldn't wear leather, green or otherwise, even upon pain of torture, you're a little bit like Oliver… He's a bad boy gone good in a way. Most of his image was from a serious overindulgence in sex, booze and the occasional drug habit, but with the help of Chloe and an unwavering need to prove to his dead parents that he was a good person, he overcame his hardships and works now to save the world…" She smiled at him then. "I'm not the world, but I think you saved me a little bit… I was lonely and perhaps a little too self-involved and mourning a relationship that did little more than stifle me and my abundance of creativity, but then you came along and you reminded me that there was life after Finn… Just like Oliver encouraged Chloe to unplug from her computers and open herself up to love again."

He stared at her a long second. "Y'know, and I'm not disagreeing or some shit, but… If Kelly didn't like save you, then why the hell are you dating him and not me?"

Her eyes widened, mouth falling ajar. She really hadn't been expecting that. "I-I-I don't know what you mean." She stood up suddenly, her back rigidly straight. "I feel that question has no grounds whatsoever."

"We're not in fucking court, Berry," he laughed shortly. "You ditched your boyfriend 'coz I called you coughing… You just compared me to your favorite TV character's soul mate… The fuck should I think?"

"Perhaps you really are suffering from a fever," she murmured, avoiding his eyes.

"'m not even sick!" he admitted in a near shout. "I just said that shit 'coz you told Kelly you were gonna be his, like, fucking girlfriend! The hell, Rachel?" He jumped out of bed and she couldn't help but notice the naked expanse of tanned skin, the way his abdomen literally rippled. "I was waiting for you to get over Finn and then you moved on without even telling me!"

Darting her eyes up to his, she shook her head. "I-I didn't—"

"And Kelly's a douche! He's skinny and snobby and a fucking douche! The hell do you even see in him? So what if he watches movie with subtitles? If I wanted to read, I'd borrow a book from you! You go to the movies to see shit blow up or to test your public sex limits, Jesus!"

"Now wait just a second, Noah Puckerman!" She reached out and stabbed her finger into his hard chest. "You can't yell at me as if I've done anything wrong. I accepted a perfectly nice offer for a date from a gentleman who seemed nothing less than pleasant. You never once told me you were looking for anything more than friendship and it would've been damaging to our relationship for me to assume anything of the sort! I-I was simply trying to move on as you've so adequately put it and was happy to find that my previous feelings for Finn weren't hindering me any longer…"

"What kind of friend would I have been if I told you I was gonna hang around until you stopped making cow-eyes at Hudson before I jumped you? I was trying to ease you into this fucking shit and then you started dating the second biggest douche in Lima! And yeah, Jesse St. Assface is douche number one, with a fucking bullet!" His jaw ticked with irritation. "Just, whatever, can we… I mean don't you…" He looked away. "Why the hell did you say yes to being that jerk's girlfriend, Rachel?"

She frowned, her eyes falling. The answer should be simple. Because she wanted to. Because he was a good guy and he made her feel good about herself. Because he liked her and she liked him. Because… "Because he asked… and because I was trying really hard not to fall in love with my best friend and dating him seemed like a good way to keep my feelings from growing."

He stared at her a long moment, somewhat stunned. "I… I'm gonna be really pissed if you tell me your best friend's like fucking Hummel or some shit."

She laughed; a sudden, startled noise that made her hands lift to cover her mouth. "Don't be ridiculous, Noah. Kurt and I don't see each other enough to label our friendship as best… You and I, on the other hand…" She let it trail off, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with the turn in conversation.

He was quiet a moment longer, but then his mouth started lifting in a smirk. "You love me, Berry?"

She rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath. "I would like to remind you that it was you who just engaged in a very childish temper-tantrum about my relationship with Kelly and whom revealed his feelings in a curse-word laden diatribe."

He raised a brow at her, smiling. "I maybe love you, too…"

Her shoulders fell, something akin to nervous uncertainty filling her body. "You do?"

He reached out, wrapped those big, attractive arms around her and hugged her close. "You think I fake sick for just anybody?"

She laughed, slapping his bicep. "We really must work on your tendency to bend the truth."

"Ow, woman! Your midget hands sting!"

She rolled her eyes up at him. "You're utterly ridic—"

He covered her mouth with his own, slanting warm, familiar lips across hers. It was light at first, soft and probing, but then he parted his mouth and his hot tongue reached for hers and suddenly Rachel remembered why she and Noah got so little done while they were dating. Because his lips were drugging, his taste was heady, his scent and his body were all encompassing. She arched up into him, into the heat that his skin seemed to generate in waves, and she reached up and dragged her nails through his 'hawk and down his neck, until he moaned and nipped at her lips. His fingers gripped her hips before his hands were spreading up her back, and he turned them so he could lean them both back onto the bed. Soup and Smallville forgotten, she welcomed the weight of him as it lay between her legs, braced on his elbows as he buried his mouth in the crook of her neck.

"So fucking good… Missed you…" he murmured, teeth and tongue dragging across her pulse.

Ten minutes later, her neck and shoulders officially marked with Noah's stamp of Mine, she rolled him over onto his back and climbed on top, straddling his waist. She liked how he let her take control, how comfortable he was sprawled beneath her, hands roaming all over her body, sliding easily up her thighs and teasing the edges of her panties until she whimpered against his mouth. It wasn't until the opening credits for Supernatural came on that they pulled back to breathe and right their clothes.

"You remind me a little of Dean Winchester too," she told him, her mouth puffy and bruised. She rested her head back against his chest as they cuddled in his bed, blankets kicked off and skin humming contently while his TV blared across from them.

"Fuckin' A! He's a BAMF!"

She neither agreed nor disagreed with his assessment, instead telling him, "I especially enjoy his rare emotional scenes."

"Babe…" he sighed, shaking his head. "We don't talk about those. They happen and we move on…"

She giggled to herself. "Okay, Noah…"

Leaning back against the pillows, he tangled his fingers in her hair and absently played with it while his favorite show continued. Rachel listened to his steady heartbeat while simultaneously listing the ways her best friend (and possible boyfriend?) likened to both Oliver Queen and Dean Winchester. In the end, one thing was for certain, it would be difficult but she was very, very lucky.

"Hey B?" Noah said, his voice low and sending a warm chill through her body.

"Yes?"

"You're dumping that douche."

It wasn't a question, but she answered regardless. "Of course… It would be terribly cruel to let him believe we were still in a steady, monogamous relationship after all of what just transpired."

"Fuck that noise. Tell the douche the Puckerone's the only badass allowed between your legs and he'll get the picture."

Sighing lightly, not even remotely surprised by what he'd said, she told him simply, "You're a crude and uncouth heathen, Noah."

"Yeah, but you love it."

Unfortunately (or quite possible fortunately), he wasn't wrong.

[End.]