I Feel Pretty and Witty and Gay!
Puckleberry goodness.
Written by Stessa.
He has no idea how he ends up on her couch, spending his Saturday afternoon, watching one of her lame-ass musicals when he could have been playing Mario Cart with the guys. He doesn't know how it was even remotely possible for her to rope him into something like this.
(Okay yes. So he totally does)
…
"Noah?"
He swings around on the barstool by the kitchen counter and finds her standing in the doorway into kitchen. His eyes almost pop out of his head. She's wearing nothing but his McKinley sweatshirt (which is just way too big for her tiny frame) and a pair of orange boy shorts underwear.
"Baby?"
She brushes a piece of her brown hair behind her ear (it's totally untameable. Yes, he messed it up good last night. Thrice) and steps closer to him, her bare feet padding against the cold tiles on the floor. She stops before him and nibbles a piece of his buttered toast. "What do you wanna do today?" she breathlessly whispers, looking up at him through her long eyelashes.
He knows what he wanna do. It involves her in less clothing and on her back. They don't even need to go upstairs. Her dads are away and the kitchen counter would suffice just fine.
He smirks at her. Usually she's not against sexy times. "Babe, how can you even ask..."
"Ew, Noah!" she huffs, pushing herself away from him slightly.
Groaning, he knows he'll regret asking her this, "Well what do you wanna do?"
A smile lights up her gorgeous face and she steps back into her former position, placing her arms around his neck, and wedging herself between his thighs. "I was actually just thinking about watching a movie today. Just the two of us. Alone. On the couch."
He cocks an eyebrow. "I'll say yes, but only if you've got any porn!"
"Why must you be so immature?"
"I just have to, baby."
She bites her lower lip and he knows already that he's going to be watching some stupid musical about singing nannies or a fat girl who likes to dance, because when she pulls moves like that, he doesn't want to say no to her. It's not that he's whipped, he just sometimes wants to humour her because it'll pay off later. He's not whipped. He's not.
(He totally is).
She places a chaste kiss on his cheekbone, before pulling herself onto his lap; her toned legs settling comfortably around his midsection. "I really wanna watch West Side Story. I've been humming One Hand, One Heart since I woke up and you weren't there to keep me warm."
He groans. Damn his stupid stomach and its need for food in the morning! He would've totally kept her warm with some hot morning sex, but after their actions the night before, well... he was famished. His girl knew how to wear him out. "What's the High West Story about again?"
She tightens her grip around his neck. "West Side Story! And it's about two people who fall in love, but they can't be together, and they sing and dance, and there's a fight, and-"
"Babe, it sounds really boring. No offence."
She huffs again. "How can I take no offence when you completely and utterly insult the most fantastic musical of all times right to my face? I'll have you know that I intend to be a part of this particular play on Broadway someday. I will be playing Maria, and I will be blowing everyone away."
It's way too early in the morning for him to have her ranting like that. "I'm not watching it, Rach."
She pouts and slowly grinds against him. "Please Noah? For me?"
That's not fair! How can she use moves like that on him when she knows what it does to him? She's rubbing her herself right against him to get what she wants. Not cool! "Rachel, I..."
She pulls his lips to hers and continuously grinds her body against his. "Please babe? You won't regret it.."
Groaning, he hears himself huff out a faint 'yes'.
…
When the film begins and there's just a hole bunch of dancing dudes, he knows he's handing her his balls in a brown paper bag.
"What the fuck, Rach! They're just a big bunch of dancing gays!"
She slaps his arm. "I resent that, Noah! And don't use that word in a negative connection, there's nothing wrong with being gay, I hate it when you use it as an insult, because my fathers-"
"Your fathers are gay, I know, baby." he sighs, stretching his legs out to rest them on her coffee table (which is totally OK when the little father – the one she calls Daddy – isn't there).
…
"No effin' way!" he huffs, glaring at the giant flat screen TV, while Rachel is watching, completely enthralled, her eyes big and round, as she mouths the words to that song that Tina sang that Rachel had wanted and hadn't actually gotten (man, was she scary when she really wanted something?). "No fucking way that's real, Rachel, no one's fucking in love after one fucking day!"
She eyes him forcefully, "There is such a thing as love at first sight, Noah! Not everyone's incapable of feeling human emotion like you are!"
He crosses his arms. He's totally capable of feeling human emotion and that shit. He thinks she's frigging hot and wants to fuck her over the arm of this couch. That's an emotion right?
(And maybe he loves her a little bit, too).
…
Shit finally happens. A fucking hour into the film. Those Shark-people are dancing and singing some showy song about America, but at least shit's going on.
"Best shit so far, baby..." he mumbles and awesomely puts an arm around her shoulder, which she doesn't even shrug off (he's the man!), "An hour into the film at least! Things are moving forward so fast!
She doesn't miss the sarcasm in his tone and lifts his arm back to his own lap.
(...he was the man...)
…
Those dudes making fun of that officer are pretty cool. He totally gets that. You know, officers are just as stupid nowadays, believing in every sob story he's ever told them about his dead-beat dad and those slightly altered stories he might've made up about his mom to get out of a charge or two...
He totally sees their point, though. He'd make fun of that officer too. Just, you know... in a slightly less gay way.
He doesn't say this to Rachel. She might hold out on him for a couple of days, and he totally needs to get it in there good before he dads return tomorrow.
…
When that Maria girl Rachel's always yapping on about starts playing dress-up in that store, he's pretty sure he might fall asleep. Rachel's all into this part of the story, and he thinks she's pretty adorable with the way she's humming along like some innocent girl, while she's wearing his shirt and no bra.
"I feel pretty! Oh so pretty! I feel pretty and witty and gay!"
He rolls his eyes at the girl on screen and scoffs. "So do I, Maria, so do I."
And this time she doesn't scold him, but she clutches his hand and smiles at him, before continuing to sing along.
(He's totally gonna get it in there good as soon as this crappy musical is over...)
…
So when that Polish dudes tells Maria that 'they've got magic', he almost loses his shit.
"SO. GAY!"
"But Noah," Rachel huffs, looking at him with those eyes again, and that pout, and those long legs, and that just-been-fucked hair she's been spotting all day, "we've got magic too!"
And he has to agree with her (he's not whipped, he's really not). They've got magic too. In the sack, that is, because that's the fucking best sex he's ever had; she's crazy in bed.
(OK, maybe he also thinks they've got a little magic outside of the bedroom too. Just a little).
…
He totally understands why the idiot's trying to stop this rumble from happening. He gets that, he totally does. Not that these fuckheads really know what a true fight is like (who calls it a rumble, anyway?). He sees his point though, because when you're trying to score with a girl, it's pretty stupid to go around fighting her brother and her friends.
He'd never do that. No that he'd ever have to, because the only girl he wants to score with doesn't have a brother. And thank fuck for that, because her two fathers are more than enough work to deal with.
But the idiot's still making himself look like a freak in front of his friends. Bros before hos, right?
"What a douche."
She feels completely insulted, of course. "How can you say that! He's trying to do this for the girl he loves! That's so romantic, Noah."
"He's making himself look like an idiot."
"... you wouldn't do that for me, Noah?"
"Shit no!"
(He totally would. He'd take down Finn and Mike and Sam and Artie if it won her over. He'd also keep her in his jeans pocket to protect her from everyone. It'd work too, since she's practically the size of his foot).
…
"DUDE, NO WAY!"
He actually feels a tiny bit of surprise when that guy that the girl's in love with kills her brother. He's not sure what their names are, because he's been watching Rachel's bare legs a lot more than he's been watching the screen, but he knows for certain that that Maria girl is related to the Latino man that just got stabbed.
This shit's crazy.
…
The things he don't do for his crazy, hot girlfriend? Yes, they're very few apparently.
…
Oh fuck no. Bitch did not just do that.
Rachel's tiny hand is clutching his own as drama unfolds in the Berry living room. That girl Maria is totally gonna forgive that guy Tony for killing her brother. No frigging way. Shit doesn't happen that way. Rachel is sniffing back tears because of the story on screen, and he got something in his eye. It's been itching for the past ten minutes (at least!) and now water's rolling down his cheeks.
"Douche killed her brother and the bitch's singing with him?"
"Noah! She loves him. She knows he didn't mean to."
He knows that too, why do you think he hasn't gotten that junk out of his eye yet? Shit's there for a reason.
…
"They gay or somethin'?" he asks, when those two stupid Jet-boys are crying on top of the roof because their leader got stabbed in that motherfucking rumble. Rumble? Still? Seriously?
Rachel rolls her eyes at him, and even though he knows she wants to go into her speech about her two gay fathers, she pokes him with her finger at his chest a couple of times instead. "Not everyone's an emotional cripple like you, for God's sake!"
He grabs her cheeks between his hands and pulls her lips to his for a kiss.
Take that, sucker. Is that emotions enough for you?
She's looking all dazed when her eyes return to the screen.
…
Play it cool, the guy sings.
He's trying to, he really is.
But it's kind of hard when you're stuck watching a romantic musical, and the girl you find yourself in a six-month relationship with is snuggled up against you, and you can't imagine ever looking twice at another woman.
Not that that's ever happened to him. Relationships are for people a lot less badass than him. It just so happens that he finds himself – often – in Rachel's house, not only during sexy times, but also for dinners and homework and stuff. It's just 'cuz all the other girls are bitches. So he might as well stick around a bit longer than his usual three weeks maximum.
It's not like he really cares a lot, you know. (Only maybe a little...)
…
"Did she fuck him? SHE TOTALLY FUCKED HIM!"
"Noah!"
…
He couldn't agree with that girl more. Maria should fucking stick to her own kind. All that jazz, fooling around with the enemy and stuff, it totally messes things up. He's the guy to attest to that. But Maria? No, she's not gonna listen. Stupid Maria!
Forget that boy, and find another, one of your own kind, stick to your own kind.
"Yeah, stick to your own kind, bitch!" he huffs, tightening his grip around Rachel's shoulders. He kinda likes the fact that she's all up against him. He knows it's because she thinks he's into this shit now. He should win one of those fucking awards she's always blabbing about, the ones for good acting, one of those she'll receive when she gets all famous and shit. She totally believes that he likes this stupid film. Getting that thing in his eye really enhanced his performance, too.
He's getting lucky tonight.
She looks up at him with that adorable smile. "Opposites attract, Noah!" she defends them (of course she does), "You'd know. Why else would I be sitting here with you?"
She has a point.
(He hates it when she has a point).
…
A boy like that, wants one thing only, and when he's done, he'll leave you lonely.
He feels Rachel tightening her hold on him, and he grips her a little harder, too. Not with her, he'll never want one thing only. He wants the entire package.
But seriously, it's only because her package goes fucking perfectly with his.
…
"And now they're just being rude!" Rachel hisses, and he has to agree with her.
Pulling a woman in like that? Treating her, pushing her to the floor and mocking her? So not cool in his book. Though he would probably have phrased it a bit more badass.
He chuckles, "They really are being rude, babe."
…
She's dead? No she fucking isn't!
Rachel gasps as if she hadn't already known that that was coming, and he sinks into the couch, groaning lowly to himself.
Fuck and shit and crap and damn. When will this be over?
…
"And now the idiot's calling that Chino guy, begging him to kill him as well." he states, cocking an eyebrow to his girlfriend, who's – of course – completely into the story. This piece of shit better be over soon!
Rachel looks up at him, "He thinks Maria is dead, Noah. He doesn't want to live without her, he can't live without her."
"Shit's still stupid."
"You wouldn't do something like that for me, Noah?"
Do what? Not live without her? Well that doesn't make any sense.
"Noah?"
"I'd do sexy things for you, Rachel."
(And probably other things too, but he's not too sure he's ever tried that before... maybe he should).
…
Love is enough.
"Shit it isn't! The man's dying and she chooses to sing for him!"
Rachel's eyes are covered in tears and her lashes are wet and she's looking at him as if he's the most brilliant thing in the entire world. "You'd sing for me too, Noah, I know you would." she whispers, and see? That shit? That's why he's still sticking around even though she's a piece of work and there's plenty of other fish in the sea. She's always fucking believed in him. More than his mother or any of his teachers. She has so much frigging faith in him, and he doesn't always deserve it.
(But she still tells him that he does)
(Which sort of makes him care a whole lot more)
(Not love... badasses don't love)
(Except maybe he kinda does... love... her...)
…
And then the shit's finally fucking over, and she's turning off the TV and climbing onto his lap. He can feel the heat of her skin through his jeans and he thinks that it might be real possibility for him to bend her over the couch and make her scream his name.
She kisses his lips, "So did you like it?"
"Shit's fucking weird, babe."
She pouts.
"And that Maria girl? Butt ugly!"
She huffs, "Noah! How can you say that? Maria's an iconic character and I've had a deep personal connection with the role since the tender age of one. Natalie Wood is absolutely stunning, and though she didn't actually sing the songs in West Side Story – they were dubbed by Marni Nixon – I still feel like I can identify myself with her, because-"
He cuts her off with a kiss. "Baby, stop talking. I was just going to say that when you play this part on Broadway or whatever, you're gonna blow people away and you'll be the most beautiful Maria there ever was."
First she looks like she wants to kill him for cutting her off, but now she's smiling and he feels like the fucking man. "Oh Noah!" she whispers, before she attacks his lips again, and he just knows he's getting some pretty damn soon. "You're too kind! You really think so?"
"I fucking know so, babe."
She beams. "Oh! Then you should probably hear me practice Tonight."
…
Forty fucking minutes later, he thinks he might never get to have sexy times with her, because she just went upstairs to change into something a bit more appropriate for I Feel Pretty. She's been frigging singing for him since the movie ended, and all he can focus on is her ridiculously hot legs and how it'd feel if they were wrapped around him right that second.
He hopes he'll find out after this song.
And then he knows he will. Because she comes down the stairs, wearing nothing but fucking lingery and black strappy heels. She only gets to sing two lines, before he has her pushed against the wall, and everything seems to get sort of hazy from there.
…
He does get to bend her over the couch that night. And it's frigging awesome.
So's the kitchen counter. She just tells him that he needs to wash it before her fathers come home. He fucking does it, too. Because he might kinda actually love her a little bit. Or a lot, perhaps. He doesn't really tell her though.
(It's OK, because she knows anyway)
…
If he didn't love me, he would not watch Wast Side Story with me.
…
She lets him fuck her again on the dining room table, and he doesn't know why, but he thinks it might be because she loves him, too.
(Reposted after it was deleted. The summary is changed to fit the rules of the site).
Thanks for tuning in. I was watching my DVD of West Side Story last night, and I think I might have been reading a bit too much Puckleberry, because every time something happened, I found myself watching the musical through Puck's eyes. Which is how this little baby was born.
I apologise for the language, but after all, Puck is Puck, so there's no changing that. Every opinion he has about this musical is not my personal opinion, just so we're clear on that. It was my first time writing Puck, which just gives me that much more respect to all the authors on this board twho writes him so well. He's actually pretty difficult to channel, and I'll probably need a lot more practice to get him down better, but at least this is a start.
I hope you liked it! Please leave me your thoughts?
Disclaimer; I most certainly do not own either Glee or West Side Story.