Title: Seeing Stars.
Author: J Rease
Rating: M
Summary: I'm Richard Brendon Berry. Gold stars are sort of my thing. Faberry Prompt Fill. Please see author's note.
Warnings: Graphic sex. Gender swapping. AU.
A/N: I've been getting messages about not updating as often as I should. As a writer, I sometimes need diversity to stay creative. I get bored with ideas or sometimes plotting and canon gets hard. Other times I just need to not write something and try my hand at something new. It's not intentional. It's my only form of comfort, and I can assure many of you; I don't abandon, or forget about any of my stories. I write constantly. I write during work, and I rush home to write more. When I'm not writing I'm reading… and I tend to ignore real life people to do it. Around the hustle and bustle of my life, I write—fanfiction or otherwise, and it almost always takes priority. With that being said, I offer what was sent to me as a distraction, another prompt fill.
Prompt: I need some Boy!Berry first time fic. Rated obscene! Can be slash (Kurt/Boy!Berry, or Karofsky/Boy!Berry). But I don't mind if it's het (Boy!Berry/Quinn or Boy!Berry/Santana). Basically, PWP… But you can pretend there's some kind of plot. Oneshot is fine, any genre you choose.
This weekend, I hope to lock myself in my bedroom and write until next week. Hopefully I can update chapters across the board. I'm continuously flattered with how enthusiastic readers are. Thank you for all your feedback. And I swear, I'll one day start a story without a giant author's note.
Enjoy.
Prologue
You're running. You can feel the burn in your chest as you measure each breath between pants. You're silently thankful for the breathing exercises you do daily as you push past people in your way. You dart and maneuver around throngs of students loitering the hallways. You can hear their heavy feet thudding against the linoleum as they chase you—you suddenly marvel in the miracle that you're faster than them both. You chance a glance behind you as you sprint; they're running—tall and obvious in their letterman jackets. You face forward and nearly collide with Brittany Pierce, her books tumbling to the floor. You don't have time to apologize, and you run faster toward Figgin's office. A tan leg juts into your view before you can avoid it, and you hear Santana Lopez snicker at you as you crash to the floor.
"Watch where you're going, freak."
You watch her turn away as two massive hands grip your shoulders and lead you toward the boy's bathroom. Puckerman slams you against the wall as you watch Finn lock the door. These Neanderthals rarely resort to violence, but you can't help the fear creeping into your voice.
"Wh-what do you want?"
You feel Puck press you harder into the wall.
"Don't play stupid, Berry. Why were you talking to Quinn earlier?" He grips your shirt tighter.
Your day flashes before your eyes as you remember and your eyes shift between the two football players. Puck slams you against the wall again for good measure and your answer spews out of your mouth in jumbles.
"She joined the glee club and I had to give her a practice schedule!"
Puck looks back at Finn and smirks as he brings his gaze back to you.
"Bullshit, fairy. My girl wouldn't join Homo Explosion. Now stop lying to me before I break that beak on your face!"
You gulp unintentionally.
"Mr. Schuester just told me to give it to her… something about extra credit for his class—that's all I know!"
Puck is staring at you like he doesn't believe you. He drags you by the collar over to an open stall.
"If I find out you're lying you little shit, I'll break your face."
Puck pushes your head into a thankfully unused toilet bowl and he flushes it a few times before stepping back.
"And if you talk to my girlfriend again without my permission it'll be worse."
You hear Finn unlock the door and you wait for them to leave before moving to the sink to wash your hair. After a few minutes of scrubbing, you shake the water from your hair and stare into the mirror. You're used to this; being at the bottom. You're Richard Brendon Berry. The guy with two moms and no friends. The guy everyone hates for no reason. Well… for stupid reasons. You didn't need another enemy. Especially an enemy like Noah Puckerman. You'd been discreet when you cornered his girlfriend on the way to the cafeteria; but apparently not discreet enough. You dry your face with paper towels and pull off both your blue oxford and argyle sweater. The t-shirt you're wearing underneath is only damp at the collar, but you don't have an extra change of clothes since Dana Karofsky slushied you this morning. You sigh out loud and make your way back to where you dropped your bag before you started running.
The rest of your day passes without a hitch, and you shuffle into Glee ten minutes early. You watch the original members trickle in and you give Mr. Schue an additional ten minutes before starting rehearsals. You are captain after all. You begin to pass out sheet music when you hear other people enter the choir room.
"Q, how did the vest wearing hair gel smuggler finagle you into joining Losers-R-Us? And why'd you have to bring me and Britts into it?"
You hear Quinn mumble something under breath before she sits down in the back row. Mr. Schue's hand clap interrupts what you were about to say; so you sit down and let him drone on about the new members and spreading the word. The rest of practice zooms by, and before you leave, Schue sits down and asks for a run through. You roll your eyes before speaking.
"Mr. Schue, I refuse to perform without an adequate leading lady. I need someone who can keep up with me vocally. We've been practicing dance routines for almost an hour. While I believe wholeheartedly that they can dance, I have yet to hear any of them sing."
You watch Mr. Schuester pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Rich…. While you obviously have no faith in my leadership abilities—Quinn, Santana and Brittany have already auditioned. Quinn will be soloing the Grease number. So—let's start that run through!"
You all get up lazily and get into position. Sandy's verse begins and you're momentarily awestruck. Somewhere you swear angels are weeping tears of happiness. You're instantly entranced as you run circles around the rest of the club, following the blonde through the motions. You're partially aware of how crazy you must be, swooning over Quinn Fabray through song. You don't care much, but you're sure she is very aware; she's running away from you. Mercedes suddenly stops singing and steps out of chorus.
"Oh hell to the no! I ain't no backup singer—especially not to this bony little Cheerio!"
You step between the girls before Quinn has a chance to reply.
"Mercedes… yesterday, we sucked. Today… we actually sound pretty good."
The club nods and mumbles their agreement. You watch Mercedes roll her eyes before shrugging.
"Fine. But this better not happen on a regular basis."
Mr. Schue tells you to take it from the top; and you quickly enamor yourself with the blonde with the angelic voice. You think quickly how awesome glee will be this year and you leave with a smile on your face. You walk home with pep in your step and wonder why you've never noticed the head cheerleader before. Everyone knew she was beautiful. They also knew she was completely off limits. You can't help but love how well your voices blend together. But you're more in love with the possibilities.
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