"Hey" he mumbled, pressing his lips against her shoulder. "What are you doing tomorrow?"
"After the game?"
She sat in his bed, feet on the floor, answering someone's text message. Her fingers swiftly moved over the phone's display. He couldn't see who she was texting.
"Yeah."
"I'm going out with Marcus."
"Out?" Puck sneered. "Or in?"
Santana snorted.
"Both, I hope" she said.
He laughed and she went back to her phone, bending her back to look down. Puck let his fingers find the ribs on her back, stroking each one. She shivered.
"Wanna come here after?" he asked.
"After Marcus?"
"Yeah, unless it's a whole night thing."
She shrugged.
"Maybe. I don't know."
"'Kay."
"I'm free Saturday though" she offered, finally turning around and facing him again.
"I'm not, taking Lisa to that drive in thing."
"Oh, she finally agreed to go with you?"
"Yep."
He pulled her down in the warmth of the bed again. His lips found hers. She smelled like sweat and him.
….
"Is that a hickey?" he asked her, raising his eyebrows at the dark red mark on Santana's neck.
"Shit" she hissed, craning her neck in an attempt to see it.
"Your mom will love it" he teased.
"Fuck, fuck. Did you do that?"
He held his hands up to prove his innocence.
"No, I know the rules. Nowhere that you can't cover with a t-shirt."
"Fuck. I'm going to kill Marcus."
Panicky, she dug through her bag in search of something to cover it up with. Puck watched her, smirking.
"Or Jamie" he offered.
"What?" she mumbled distracted.
"He could have left you that mark too."
"Jamie's too much of a mommy's boy for that."
"True" he agreed.
Santana gave up on the bag and turned in her seat to search the backseat. Puck inspected her ass as she did so. Her tight, black jeans were so low and so tight it was like her skin had turned the color of dark denim.
"Stop ogling at my ass and help me" she begged him.
"Relax, San. You can say you burned yourself with a curling iron or something."
"I don't fucking own a curling iron" she spat.
She sat back in her seat and sighed.
"Give me your sweater."
"What?"
"It has a collar, it might help."
"What am I supposed to wear?"
"You're just driving home, you can do that shirtless."
"San…"
"Please" she begged.
He groaned and pulled his maroon sweater off. Santana dragged it over her head. It was way too big.
"God, it's cold" he muttered.
"Turn the heat up then."
She inspected herself in the back mirror.
"It'll do" she sighed.
"That's my favorite sweater" he informed her.
"Gay."
"Shut up."
She leaned over and kissed his mouth.
"Thanks babe."
"Tell Marcus to follow the fucking rules next time."
…
"What will your girlfriend say about this?" Jenna whispered.
She was red faced and glazy eyed. Her hair was braided and she still wore her knitted socks. Not his type, of course, but sometimes you didn't have the opportunity to be picky.
"I don't have girlfriend" he replied, staring at her poster of Justin Bieber on the wall.
"What about Santana?"
"Not my girlfriend."
"Don't you sleep with her like all the time."
"It's just sex."
Jenna looked confused and a bit disappointed.
"Santana doesn't care that you sleep with other girls?"
"Nope."
She looked even more disappointed.
"You should probably leave."
"Yeah" he agreed, reaching for his jeans.
"Maybe" she began, fastening her bra. "Maybe you could mention to her that we had sex."
"I don't kiss and tell" he smirked.
She gave him a half-hearted smile.
"Look" he sighed. "If you have some fight going on with Santana, I'm not going to work as revenge, 'kay?"
"I wasn'…"
"Jenna, she doesn't fucking care if I fuck you, get it? If she pissed you off, send her a hate text or something."
He pulled his pants up in one movement and was half-way out the door before she could reply.
…
"Jenna Jacobsen slept with me to fuck with you" he said accusingly.
"Bo-fucking-ho, Puck" Santana snarled.
They were on their way to the hospital. Puck's nana hadn't recovered as well from her kidney surgery as hoped.
"What did you do to her?"
She snorted and opened the heavy glass door to the hospital.
"Slept with her boyfriend."
"Ouch."
"I was drunk."
"Right."
She rolled her eyes at him.
"She's mad at you anyway."
"I don't give a shit."
"I know you don't."
Puck's grandma sat up as they entered her room. She looked pale and frail.
"Santana, did you bring me something?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
Santana dug a pack of cigarettes out of her purse.
"What the fuck, San. She's sick!" Puck growled, snatching the pack from her hands.
"Yeah and she needs a pick me up, right?"
Puck's nana nodded.
"Fuck no" Puck muttered.
"I'm a grown woman" his grandmother insisted.
"Yeah" Santana agreed. "She has been grown woman for 60 years."
"Yeah and senile for three. Sorry, nana."
He stuffed the cigarettes back into Santana's bag. She pursed her lips but didn't say anything.
"Santana is the only one who gets me" his nana whined. "She's the only one who cares."
Puck patted her hand.
"Don't flatter yourself, gran. Santana doesn't care about anyone but herself, right, darling?"
Santana rolled her eyes again.
…
"I'm seeing Berry tonight" he told her. "She and Finn are having problems."
"Don't be an asshole."
"That's coming from the right person."
"You'll just fuck her up."
"No, I'll just fuck her."
He winked and nudged her shoulder. She didn't smile.
"Don't mess with my friends."
"She's not your friend" he argued. "She drives you mad."
"Just don't, 'kay?"
She turned her back on him. He could see by her posture that she was pissed at him.
"Why?" he challenged her.
"I just don't see the point."
"The point of sex? Who the fuck are you? What happened with my best friend?"
He grabbed her arm and forced her to face him again.
"Fine" she spat, snatching her arm back. "Do whatever you want. I don't care."
"Well, obviously you do."
"Go fuck yourself."
She pulled her jacket on, ready to leave.
"If you don't want me to sleep with Rachel, just tell me."
"I just told you, I don't care."
"Just tell me and I won't."
She let out a deep breath.
"Just don't, okay?" she said, her voice defeated now.
"Okay" he answered simply. "Okay."
…
The threesome had been his idea but she had been all for it. She had found them a girl, Emma, a British foreign student with a huge rack. All he had to do was get his mom out of the house. Easy. Santana and Puck drank some wine together in his bed to get ready.
"This is crazy" he smiled.
"Very" she agreed.
She kissed him and he kissed her back. His hands unbuttoned her top and pulled it over her head. Maybe it was the wine, but he just wanted her, right now. He wanted her, not some weird triangle that most likely would be terrible in every way. He was fine with feeling his skin under lips, her smell on his body.
"We should wait" she mumbled against the scruff on his chin.
"I don't want to."
"Okay."
Her skin was hot under his fingers. And smooth. He left kisses from her mouth down to her stomach. She made noises he knew that were sounds of pleasure.
"Oh god" she moaned as he went lower still.
He knew her body so well. Just as well as he knew her. Every arch of an eyebrow or half-smile meant something and he knew what. He got her in a world when most people didn't.
"Someone's at the door" she mumbled.
"What?"
"Someone's knocking."
"Is it Emma?"
"I don't know" she snarled frustrated. "I can't see through walls."
She untangled herself and went to open the door. Puck heard Emma's high pitched laugh from the hallway. And for some reason he wished she would fly to home to fucking Wales or wherever she was from.
…
"Losers" she scuffed as Finn and Rachel kissed in Glee club.
"Pretentious losers" Puck agreed.
Rachel puffed out her cheeks and glared at them.
"It is not my fault that you two can't get over the obstacles of your complex relationship and feel the joy of monogamy."
"Yeah, sleeping with the same person for 50 years sounds wonderful" Santana mocked.
"That can't get boring at all" Puck sneered.
But he couldn't chase the feeling that he had felt the other night. When he wanted the hot British girl to leave so that he could be alone with Santana.
"It's not boring" Finn disagreed seriously. "It's great. There's always someone who wants to be with you."
"Isn't that what your mom is for?" Puck asked, mockingly.
Finn clamped his jaw and looked mad. Puck and Santana bumped knuckles.
"Monogamy is a myth" he said. "Like unicorns and the Bermuda triangle."
Santana nodded.
…
"Hey" he said. "Wanna go out on Friday?"
"Sure."
"I mean, out for real."
She froze.
"What do you mean?"
"Mom got free tickets for the movies."
Santana swallowed. He was nervous but trying to act cool.
"You mean, like a date?" she asked.
"Kinda."
"I thought you said monogamy was a myth."
"It's just a date, San, not a fucking proposal."
She looked hesitant.
"Let's not mess this up, Puck."
"Mess what up?"
"You and me. You're my best friend."
"Yeah so eating dinner won't be awkward."
"Are you serious about this?"
He shrugged, acting all nonchalant.
"The new Bond seems good."
"I hate Bond."
"I don't care, the tickets are mine. I decide."
"Maybe you should just bring Finn instead. I bet he likes watching middle aged men climbing walls."
"I wanna bring you."
He met her eyes. She looked scared, like a kid. He felt scared too.
"Okay" she whispered. "Pick me up at seven."
…
"That movie was lame" she complained.
"It was awesome."
"You have the worst taste in the world."
"Whatever."
He parked the car outside her house.
"I thought we were going over to yours" she said.
"Nah, I think we should call it a night?"
She looked confused.
"You can't come in, you know."
"I don't think I should come in."
"You wanna do it in the car?" she asked, arching one eyebrow and biting her lip.
"No."
"No?"
"Just get out of the car, Lopez."
"No sex?"
"Nope."
"Then what was the point of all this?"
He smiled, leaned over and kissed her mouth.
"Good night, San."
"What is going on?"
"Next time you can pick the movie" he told her.
"There's not going to be a next time."
"Why not?"
"I don't get why you don't wanna fuck me."
"You shouldn't sleep with a guy on the first date."
She snorted.
"We've had sex like a million times, Puck. This is ridiculous."
"Get out" he told her.
She shook her head and opened her door.
"There's not going to be a next time" she called.
"Friday night" he told her.
She shook her head.
…
"You smell bad" she muttered.
"Fuck off."
She still curled in closer, placing her sweaty forehead on his chest.
"Wanna go out and get some food?" she asked.
"Not really."
Lazy Sundays in bed with Santana was his favorite thing. After sex, maybe. He loved listening to classic rock and napping during the guitar solos and teasing her.
"I have to go soon though" she said.
"Why?"
"Going over to Jamie's."
"Blow him off."
"Or just blow him."
She nudged him until he smiled.
"He's a bad fuck anyway, isn't he?"
"No, he's okay."
"I'm better though, right?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Conceited much?"
"Nah."
He pulled her closer, she giggled into his skin.
"Stay here" he begged. "I'll even watch The Hills marathon with you on MTV."
"You hate that show."
"The girls are hot."
Santana sniggered and turned the TV on.
"So you're staying?" he asked.
"Well, The Hills trumps sex every time."
"Bullshit."
He slid his hand under her shirt and they forgot all about Lauren and her gal pals.
…
"Finn and Rachel broke up again" Santana informed him.
"Yeah, I heard."
"Not going after Berry?`"
"Nah."
"Your week full with other girls?"
"Nope."
"What about Julie?"
"Broke it off with her."
"Why?"
"Didn't feel right."
"Why?"
He shrugged.
"I'd rather just be with you."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
She put her arm around his waist and kissed his cheek.
"You're really a sweety, aren't you?"
"Shut up."
"I broke it off with Jamie. And Marcus."
"They were loser anyway."
"Yeah" she agreed. "I guess they are."
He kissed the top of her head. Her hair smelled like his mother's shampoo. She had spent the night again.
"Wanna go visit my nana after school?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Yeah, sure."
"Don't try to smuggle anything this time."
She smiled.
"Guess you'll have to body search me."
…
It wasn't a plan. He never called her his girlfriend. They didn't do that stupid relationship thing on Facebook. But they didn't sleep with other people. They spent more time together. He always had an arm around her shoulders.
"Are you going steady now?" Nana Puckerman asked them.
Santana broke down and laughed so much that she had to sit down.
"Going steady?" she mouthed over and over.
"This isn't the 50's, Nana" Puck told her.
"You two are impossible."
Puck met Santana's eye. She bit her lip and he smiled at her. Yes, they were impossible, to everyone except each other.
"I guess the likelihood of you getting AIDS has gotten lower now."
"Oh god" Puck sighed.
Santana broke down again. She laughed until tears streamed from her eyes.
"I hope you never die, Nana" she said, drying her eyes. "You are the most hilarious person I have ever met."
"It's not a joke. You two should get tested for STDs. I don't want my grandson becoming sterile."
Puck began to laugh too. He just couldn't help it. He dragged Santana out of the room and kissed her against the wall, still laughing. Her teeth clattered with his and he felt nothing but joy.
"It's you and me now, right?" he asked.
"Yeah" she whispered. "It is."
…
But no, of course it couldn't last. They had everything against them, really. The world. The temptation. He kissed a girl at a party, she was pretty and hot. Santana freaked out and throw a glass at him. They fought until morning broke. He promised to never do it again. Two weeks later, she slept with Marcus in Puck's car that she had borrowed. He saw red and punched Marcus in the face. Santana apologized and cried but they had everything against them.
"Are you really sorry?" he spat at her. "Do you regret it?"
"Puck…"
"You planned it. You borrowed my car and drove to his house."
"Come on, you kissed that girl…"
He tried to find something to say, something that would save them.
"This isn't going to work" he said.
"No" she agreed. "No, it won't."
He had known it, but hearing her say it hurt so bad.
"Maybe one day, when we're old and fragile and need someone to change our diapers" Santana smiled.
"Maybe."
"Puck, I really wanted this to work."
"I know."
"But it's not us, Puck. It's like you said, monogamy is a myth and we're the only ones who realize it."
"Right."
But he couldn't help feeling that they were the only ones who didn't understand. Everyone else seemed to manage it. Why couldn't they?
"I think I love you" he confessed.
"Don't say that" she whispered. "It's not true."
It was, or maybe it wasn't. He didn't know. He didn't really know what love was.
…
Nana Puckerman died on a Friday. Puck held her hand as she drifted away. His mother cried until she couldn't breathe. And Santana appeared. She took his hand and whispered comforting words in his ears and he wanted her again.
"Life is so fragile" he said.
"You're talking in clichés" she smiled.
"I wish I could love you."
"I know."
"She liked you, you know. She was just giving you a hard time because you're not a Jew."
Santana nodded.
"I know."
They took her body. Puck stayed on the couch in the visitor's room all night. Santana sat beside him. They watched a mother and father kissing as they brought their newborn baby home. They watched an old lady kiss her husband goodbye before going into surgery. They watched a couple pray together, kissing as an Amen.
"It's not for us" Santana said.
"No."
"We're not cut out for that."
"I wish we were."
"Yeah."
"I wish I could love you like they do."
"I know.
…