A/N: Puckleberry. Is it wrong that I love this couple so much? Naturally, there will be obstacles.
The title is from the Van Morrison song.
*****
He's not hung up on Rachel Berry. It's just that they keep having these moments, or near misses, or whatever. Like really, they keep happening. And the girls he's been with come in two categories: fuck and forget it (pretty much everyone), and fuck and not allowed to forget it for a single second (Quinn). She doesn't fit into either category because clearly she's not carrying his spawn, but equally clearly, she's not all that forgettable. Also he hasn't fucked her, although he's thought about it. Some. Or a lot. Whatever. Sometimes he tells himself it's because he hasn't had her, like if they could finish what they keep starting, he'd be done.
Only a few small problems with that theory. Yeah, it's true that they are hot as hell together (in her bedroom, in his truck, and pretty fucking memorably backstage before Regionals after he'd punched that Vocal Adrenaline dick. But some of the moments, shit, even most of them, do not involve him working his way around the bases.
Like when she sat sat next to him in Glee right after Sectionals, exactly like nothing had happened (she was the first person who had even spoken to him all day). And when she told Finn (Finn!) to step off when Finn was ragging on him about their duet. She must have been the only one in the room who thought Finn gave two shits about whether he was coming in a beat too early or too late or anything but the fact that it was Puck she was singing to, Puck's arms around her. Jealous prick. And of course there's the fact that she had pretty much straight out told Quinn she was being a total bitch for cutting him out completely. (End result: he's running around like Quinn's bitch now--those cravings blow.)
And yeah, so they talk sometimes. Or mostly he listens to her while trying not to pierce his own eardrum with something sharp. (You keep telling yourself that, buddy. Shut up...fucking internal monologue.)
The whole thing starts at lunch. After baby-gate (unbelievably stupid name, thanks Hummel) he was damned if he was going to sit in the lunch room and play the role of villain opposite Saint Finn and Quinn/Mary fucking Magdalen.
She finds him on the bleachers the Tuesday after Sectionals--yeah, predictable, so what?--and sits down next to him, takes out her lunch and starts eating. He watches without comment as she dabs her lips neatly with the napkin she packs and mostly ignores her when she talks commonplaces (about Glee, what the hell else do they have to talk about?). She offers him a snack and almost unwillingly, he laughs because shelled edamame? No, no and no.
He's not disappointed at all on Wednesday when she doesn't show up.
But then she's there on Thursday. And she brings Twinkies which he knows she's bought specially. Hey, it's not like it's takes some deep insight into Berry to realize that refined sugars and transfats aren't going to cross her lips.
And fuck. There it is. Tuesdays and Thursdays eating lunch with him. Wednesdays and Fridays with the Gleeks. And Mondays with a glowering Finn. Any triumph he unexpectedly feels over the fact that she's spending two days with him and only one with Finn is shot down completely when he realizes he's lurking outside the cafeteria in order to work out her schedule.
He spends no time (at all) thinking about why he cares.
Because he's an idiot, it takes three weeks of Tuesdays and Thursdays for it to sink in that she's freezing her ass off sitting on the bleachers in December. She eats her lunch, talks cheerfully about nothing, but the goosebumps on the expanse of thigh between the kneesocks and the skirt are a dead giveaway. (He loves those skirts and come on, she's a hot Jew, so of course he's going to look.)
The next morning he finds her at her locker, crowding her a little because he likes it when she looks up at him. He tells her off-handedly that he'll be in the practice room for lunch.
She looks down and says "oh" in a small voice.
He rolls his eyes. Please. If he was trying to get rid of her, he sure as shit wouldn't be choosing her second home to eat in. He just can't believe he actually has to say it.
"You can come too," he tells her, and her quick smile makes him want to laugh or pat her head or kiss her or something stupid like that. "Just don't forget the Twinkies."
It's not a friendship. That's all they do--eat lunch. She'll smile at him in Glee and sit next to him sometimes and she'll nod to him in the hallway if he nods first, but she doesn't try to make him watch musicals or go shopping at whatever granny store she buys her sweaters at or whatever the fuck else she would do with a friend. And he can't exactly picture her in his basement drinking beer and playing Xbox.
Or he can, but only if she's also naked. Which isn't a half bad idea, except she's still, still, still totally panting for Hudson.
He watches her when he doesn't have anything better to do. Quinn looks like she'd like to cut her and Kurt hisses "rebound" at her. And it hits her, it does, just like it does when Artie calls her a diva for like the millionth time or when Schue does another stupid 'teachable moment' at her expense. But she picks herself up and focuses her big brown eyes on Finn like when she finally gets him, he's going to make everything better.
He could tell her something about what happens when you finally get the person you think you want.
The weirdest thing about being not-friends with Rachel Berry? She doesn't pry. Doesn't ignore it exactly, the shit-storm swirling above his head, Quinn's, Finn's, but she's so matter-of-fact about it all, she might as well be. She doesn't lecture him and fucking miracle, she doesn't try to fix everything. She just lets him be. Sort of.
Over time, some stuff happens.
First it's the duet. Some romantic piece of crap about being in love with your best friend and he needs to watch Finn and Rachel sing another love song like he needs a hole in the head. That shit's just overdone in his opinion. But the day after Schue assigns it, Finn's out with a cold, maybe bronchitis; kid hardly ever gets sick, but when he does, he's out for a while, moaning into his tissues.
The day after that she starts with the funny looks which are not, unfortunately, the Puck, I want to jump your bones looks. Instead, tick-tock, Regionals are closing in, and Rachel's not losing the duet so next practice she smiles brightly and volunteers him as male lead. Schue frowns and says something about the song being outside his range and Rachel glares like it's her singing being insulted. She's more than capable of coaching Noah to standard thank you very much. And him? See, that thing about her letting him be? Does not apply to Glee.
Before he knows it, they're meeting three days a week before basketball practice because she's working with him. Which should be as annoying as fuck, right? But she's actually a pretty good teacher. She does the stuff he expects like scales and posture and breathing and all that and don't think he doesn't enjoy making her blush with sly comments about already having worked on their breath control together.
But it's also, she's also, fun. She brings in music--he almost chokes when she calls it "appreciating the seminal works of popular tenors." And then he makes her repeat the word 'seminal' four or five times (Huh Berry? Could you say that again?) until she calls him childish and punches his arm as hard as she can. Once he's stopped laughing, 'popular tenors' turns out to be Robert Plant, and he can tell she's impressed as hell when he does the Zepplin guitar parts, so okay, cool.
And who would have guessed that she could identify Aerosmith, much less mug the lyrics of 'Walk This Way' back and forth with him.
It's not until she brings in Marvin Gaye that he begins to see the possibilities of the situation.
She's talking a mile a minute as usual. "I've always loved 'What's Going On'! It works on so many different levels, as an anti-war song, a commentary on the world's problems and of course it marks the transition of the Motown sound from..."
And he's ignoring her, because his mother loves Marvin Gaye; seriously, he knows all the songs. 'What's Going On'?--good song. But he's thinking something else.
Look, it's not any secret that music gets Rachel going. He's 99% sure that that's Hudson's secret weapon with her--although he doubts the dumbass even knows it. She doesn't give a shit about the quarterback thing and she cheers in all the wrong places whenever Frankenteen is on the basketball court, and speaking objectively, Finn is as dumb as a box of rocks, so it's got to be the music.
Hell, it worked for him. Five minutes after 'Sweet Caroline' she had dragged him into the supply closet.
Really, he just wants to make her smile a little, maybe laugh. Shit, he's not serious about it. He scrolls through her collection, pushes play and the watches her face, smirking, 'cause the second she hears the first notes, that guitar instrumentation, she's going to know.
Yep. That look: half-amused, half-suspicious, all Berry.
He takes a step towards her, edging her back ever so slightly, crooning the opening lyrics in an exaggerated manner.
I've been really tryin', baby
Tryin' to hold back this feelin' for so long
And if you feel like I feel, baby
Then come on, oh, come on
Her eyes widen and she does smile, rolling her eyes a bit. He slides a hand to her hip and she swats it away, so he tickles her waist instead and now she's laughing. He goes in for the kill, looking her up and down, winking suggestively, but it's all overblown enough so she can completely tell he's kidding.
Whoo, let's get it on
Ah, babe, let's get it on
Let's love, baby
Let's get it on, sugar
Let's get it on
Whoo-ooh-ooh
And Rachel's still laughing, but maybe a little turned on too, at least her eyes are sparkling and she's breathing a little faster. Which, who is he kidding, is totally awesome and he is so the man (thanks for the assist, Marvin).
They both jump like they've been shot when the clapping starts. Mr. Schue is behind them, a wide smile lighting up his features.
Fuck. No big thing though.
"Puck, that sounded great! No strain on those high notes and you made the descent smoothly. Great test piece for your range."
Test piece, Schue? Shit, no wonder he hasn't sealed the deal with Ms. Pillsbury yet.
"Rachel, I've got to admit, you were absolutely right," Schue continues.
Which also works with Rachel. She preens and then says matter-of-factly, "Noah's natural talent just needed a little polishing."
Yeah, it feels good. Whatever.
"I'm looking forward to seeing the two of you sing together tomorrow in practice. By the way I spoke to Finn today and he'll be back in school so you can get his feedback as well!"
Because Finn's going to be super psyched.
He looks at Rachel and she's got her hands clasped together, looking like someone just gave her a Tony (shut up, she's hard to block out). He's narrowing his eyes, wondering how long it's going to take her to get Finn put back on the duet when she turns to him. "We're going to kill on that duet tomorrow!"
Huh. That was unexpected.
