It happened once.
It was a stupid mistake and Quinn vowed to herself it would never happen again, but it's hard to remember that as he comes up behind her in the pool, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Puck…" She squirms contentedly in his grasp, wishing suddenly that she wasn't naked and in Santana's pool half-past midnight. She should be home, doing homework or praying like all religious girls should do. But Puck presses against her back insistently, and she can practically hear the smirk.
"Hey, baby."
A chill runs through her as he says that. She glances around desperately for Finn, but she only sees Santana and one of the football players at the opposite end. Puck pulls her into a dark corner of the pool hidden from light, and only there does he press his lips to her neck.
"Puck, we can't right now." But almost out of instinct, Quinn angles her neck a little to allow him more access. Old habits die hard. "Finn's somewhere here and everyone else…"
Puck licks the spot right below her ear. "Finn's asleep." He nods a little towards a few kids on the bench, Finn one of them, his head awkwardly atop Brittany's lap.
Quinn turns to face Puck. His lips hover an inch from hers and she wishes desperately to close the gap, but she can't help but be hyper-aware of the crowd around them, be it may dark and hidden. His hard-on pushes against her stomach and she wonders when it seemed like a good idea to go skinny-dipping.
"Not here." Desire makes her words hazy. "I can't… here. Okay?"
He gives her a smirk. "Fine."
She waits for him to pull away but he doesn't, only keeps staring until she's forced to look away. "Stop looking at me like that." Staying away from him is getting harder with every time he brushes by her.
Before she can push him away, he backs her up against the pool edge and she tastes booze on his breath, and something elusive and dark and she just wants to swallow it up forever. Not here, not here, not here. "Not —"
"Yes. Here." Puck drags a hand down her thigh and steals a kiss, pulling her deeper into the shadows. "If you can be quiet…"
Quinn releases a mewl from the back of her throat when he slides his tongue under hers. "Puck —" She gasps a little, wrapping her legs almost involuntarily around his waist. "Okay. Here."
He grins against her lips. "That's my girl."
"I'm not —" She grips onto his shoulders as he slides in, stifling a cry. "Don't call me that. I'm with Finn."
He seems unconcerned with this as he trails down her neck with his teeth, moving slowly inside her to pick up rhythm. "Mmhm." But you're mine. He doesn't say it, but when he brushes the wet hair out of her eyes and pushes his forehead against hers, he tries to make her see it.
She's reminded of free-falling, jumping from high heights and plunging into the deep end, screaming like dogs and landing on their feet instead of their heads. She watches the rest of the crowd, ignoring their dark corner and swaying hazily to the music, and wonders if this is what it feels like to be invisible.
Mine. She spells it into his skin like a message.