Title: I Want You to Want Me (I Need You to Need Me)
Category: Glee
Genre: Drama/Romance
Ship: Puck/Rachel
Rating: Teen
Prompt: "I want you to want me. For more than just fun. For more than just great sex. I want you to want me for real." by bewolke – puckrachel drabble meme (part 8)
Word Count: 3,030
Summary: "For the sake of our friendship and for my heart I had to tell you that— That I want you to want me..."
I Want You to Want Me (I Need You to Need Me)
-1/1-
Puck can't begin to explain the relief he feels when she comes barreling in his door. There's a second where he wonders how the hell she got a key, but that's quickly dismissed when she's pacing back and forth across the floor, soaking wet, and crazy mad. He can tell 'cause she's doing that thing where she mumbles under her breath, planning out their argument ahead of time and working out her comebacks. The funniest part is that she knows him to a tee; because half the shit she's saying, in a deeper tone that he's knows is supposed to be him, is legit things he'd say!
He hasn't seen her in weeks. There was a time when that wouldn't bother him - he guesses somewhere around freshmen year of high school though, so he's not even sure if it counts any more - but since they've both moved to New York, he's used to seeing her on a daily basis. She was doing her performing arts college thing for awhile and now she's on the stage, blowing their minds with all her awesome talent, and he got his ass into NYU and is pretty damn content with the whole architecture gig. So about a year and a half ago, when life was hectic and going out and meeting people took too damn much time and energy, they agreed to try their hands at a no-strings-all-sex relationship...
Which, okay, looking back, wasn't so smart... One, they've been friends for like five and a half years. Two, they kinda dated once, for like three-point-five seconds, but it was legit one of his best relationships. And three, he's maybe, kinda, been into her for, well, five and a half years. Adding sex to that? Totally didn't make things any easier. For him, anyway. He thought she was pretty good with it, since, y'know, he's a boss in bed... But then, three weeks ago, she just up and cuts him off. Not just the sex either, but she legit disappears off his radar. Wasn't answering his phone calls. No more mid-day pop ins for random lunches together, where she usually tried to get him to eat more healthily. She even stopped going to all their usual hangouts; like her favorite restaurants, that they hit up on the regular.
They've got Tofu Tuesdays and Salad Sundays and okay, seriously, he's not up for either, but they've got these restaurants they go to where she can have all the tofu she wants and he can eat all the poor dead animals he can handle. So they've got this whole thing mapped out, y'know? But when he calls her Tuesday for their pre-scheduled date-that's-not-really-a-date, she doesn't answer. So he hits up Totally Tofu and waits not one, not two, but three goddamn hours for her! No show! The waiters are totally looking at him with pity by the time he gives in and leaves! And so he drops by the theater she's been rehearsing at, lunch in hand, thinking she'll have a good excuse and they can back to their usual; only, she's not there. Or that's what one of her cast mates says before ignoring the rest of his questions and just skipping away, telling him he'll pass on the message to her if he sees her. Fuck that!
So he keeps calling and dropping by and leaving messages on her voice mail that range between being pissed and being worried and occasionally just begging her to call him back already. Nothing. And now, three weeks later, he finally sees her, and even though he's pissed - like seriously... he was starting to think something really bad happened - he's also really fucking happy to see her. 'Cause Rachel Berry? Totally the highlight of his day... Or life... Or maybe both.
"The hell've you been?" he asks, trying for and failing to sound nonchalant.
She stops, turns to look at him with that glaring-frown she gets when somehow he's missed something really damn important. "Where have I been?"
He nods slowly. "S'been three weeks, Rach... You went from calling me upwards of four times a day and texting the whole time in between to zip..." He throws a hand up in agitation. "I've been leaving messages; on your phone, with your cast mates..." He shakes his head. "You lose my number somewhere?"
"You don't get to be the angry one!" she shouts, stomping her foot like the little princess he remembers from high school.
"The fuck I don't," he mutters, climbing up from his couch. "You bailed on me!"
"Well I was just beating you to the punch!" she yells, reaching over to stab him in the chest with her pointy finger.
He blinks at her. "Seriously... Did you like, hit your head or something?"
"No! I did not—" She shakes her head, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "We're getting off topic!"
"No, we're not... I wanna know where the hell you've been all this time! It's not like you to just— To just run out on me like that!"
She stares at him a long moment, her face drawn, and she licks her lips and drops her eyes to the floor. "Do you... Do you have any water, Noah?"
His chest hurts then; because water means she's upset or sad or... or she wants to talk about something that's going to make someone else upset or sad... And for a second he thinks, 'Holy shit, she's leaving me...' Which is stupid, because they aren't even really a we… They're a were and a—a— Well, whatever they are, they aren't what he wants them to be... Like, the awesome sex they have – which is a lot, really, and it's legit some of the best he's ever had in his life – he doesn't want to stop that. He really, really doesn't. But sometimes, he thinks the strings would be so worth it. Like he could be happy with strings if they were attached to Rachel... Really fucking happy. Only they never talk about more and no way in hell is he gonna be the one who brings that up! So... It stays the same and he tells himself it's okay. He's good with what they have. He'll take what he can get. Only now... Now it looks like he won't even have that and that... That's just not okay…
He takes a second to collect himself while he gets her a glass of water from the kitchen. He's thinking of all the ways he can talk her out of this. Most of which are just shutting her up in the best way he knows how; distraction by sex. Seriously, that's a good plan, 'cause he knows all her sweet spots and he can turn her head so upside down she won't remember her own name. But then he wonders if maybe there's another guy; if she's leaving what they have because she thinks she can have something real with some actor douche. And he's angry. He's really pissed. Because he can be what she wants; he can be everything she needs, if she'd just give him a goddamn chance...
He finds her at his living room window; she's got a hand against the glass and she's staring out at the view. It isn't much, but it's better than the first apartment he had when he first got toNew York. It's bright and there are flashing lights and it always makes her smile. He's woken up hundreds of nights to see her right where she is, wearing one of his work shirts and nothing else, smiling softly as she watches her city move just outside, lit up by the lights, looking more beautiful than he ever thought a woman could. Only she's sad now and still too fucking gorgeous.
"Here," he says gruffly, passing her the glass.
She smiles at him, but it's distant and falls quickly. She gulps back the whole glass and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, panting a little. And then she moves to sit down on the couch, crossing and uncrossing her legs. "Will you sit with me?" she asks, patting the cushion next to her.
His jaw ticks and he wants to say no, wants to avoid this whole conversation, but finally he drags himself over and sits down, glaring at the space between them.
"Noah, I... I want you to know that this... This isn't what I had planned, or what I expected or—or anything like that. It—It came out of nowhere for me..." Her brows furrow. "No, that's not... That's not right. Okay..." She sighs. "The truth is, maybe it's always been a little bit there... Maybe I've always felt like this just a little bit and I never let myself... I thought— I thought we could do this and I would be fine; even unaffected..."
She waves her hands around as she talks and he used to find it really cute, in fact he still does, but he doesn't want to in that moment... He doesn't want to find anything about her cute or attractive or fucking adorable.
"And honestly, I don't think I could have had this kind of relationship with anybody else, because there is nobody that I trust more than you..." She reaches for him then and clasps her hand around his wrist, even as his hand curls in a defensive fist. "This last year has been..." She laughs thickly. "Well, it's been eye-opening to say the least, I mean... I—I had no idea I could feel the things you've made me feel or—or that I could bend the way I have..."
He can't smother a smirk, or the chance to see her face lit up bright red from her blush.
She continues despite her discomfort, shifting in her seat. "There is nobody else I would rather have learned those things with... Nobody else I would have wanted to share myself with... And—And I think... Oh, this is harder than I thought..." She shakes her head and chews her lip, playing with the end of her dress, soaking wet and stuck to the skin of her long, tanned legs.
Legs he's had wrapped around his waist and over his shoulder and gripping his head. Legs he's stroked and kissed and—fuck… He drags a hand down his mouth and feels his knee jump anxiously.
"Rach," he rasps.
"No, no let me say it," she says, squeezing her eyes shut. "Noah, I… I know this is not what we had planned. I—I mean," She laughs, shaking her head. "Tofu Tuesdays? Salad Sundays?" She licks her lip. "Naked, Sleep-In Saturdays?" She hiccups. "We… We got closer than I expected us to… We—We spend every waking moment together and I didn't… I didn't see anything wrong with that, really… Until one morning, I—I rolled over and…" Her breaths became hurried and thick. "And you were there, you were just—You were fast asleep and snoring and you had your hand—It—It was still tangled in my hair. And I tried to wake you up—" Her voice cracks. "I just, I touched your chest and I said your name and you—you smiled…" She smiles at the memory. "And you mumbled my name and I thought… I thought, 'I love the way my name sounds when he says it…' And then, 'I love him.'" She ducks her head before she can see his stunned expression. "And that—That was too much! That was…" She exhales heavily, lifting a hand to her noise as she sniffles. "That wasn't what you signed up for and—and I knew you would just—You'd shrug it off or you'd pretend I hadn't said it or worse, you'd tell me you didn't or couldn't or would never feel the same! And I…" She shakes her head quickly. "I couldn't hear that. I couldn't wait for you to let me down easy or—or spare my feelings or whatever you would've done. So I ran… And I hid and I—" She smiles shakily, her brows knit. "I hoped it would just go away. That—That I'd stop feeling this or thinking of you or—or missing you and then I realized…" She looks up at him, her face open and honest and a little bit terrified. "I won't… I won't ever stop…"
He stares at her a long moment, until his chest aches to the point of being seriously fucking painful, and he realizes he actually stopped breathing at some point.
"I—I can see I've shocked you," she says needlessly.
He nods, dragging his fingers back through his hair.
"I just… I'm sorry. And I know that won't make up for any of this. I know… I know things will probably be very difficult between us…" She shakes her head. "But I couldn't not tell you, Noah… I had to try…"
He turns to look at her and hates that in that moment, all of his charm and his easy sarcasm has left him. He's tongue-tied and confused and he doesn't know where the hell she's going with this.
She slides her hand over until it's wrapped around his and she squeezes. "I know it's a lot to take in and I know there's a very good chance you won't feel what I feel… But for the sake of our friendship and for my heart I had to tell you that— That I want you to want me..." She shakes her head. "For more than just fun. For more than just great sex." She smiles slowly, sadly. "I want you to want me for real." And a tear falls down her cheek when she forces herself to ask, "Do you think…? Could you ever…?"
"Rachel…"
Her smile starts to break and her head falls. "Please, Noah— Please don't be gentle with me in this… Just—Just tell me the truth!"
"The truth?" he repeats, laughing a little.
Her brows furrow as she looks back up at him, confused by his show of amusement.
"The truth is that… I…" He swallows thickly; he is shit at big declarations. "I've been half in love with you since I was seventeen…" He licks his lips. "That I fell for you completely way before we ever started this thing. And I…" He shakes his head. "I can't even imagine my mornings without you, let alone my life…" He half-smiles, quirking a brow. "You're my girl, Rach… You're it… and I should've told you that years a—"
She cuts him off with her lips, wrapping her arms around his neck and sliding her wet, soggy body into his lap.
He laughs against her mouth, even though it's not really funny. But she's soaked right through and now he's half way there, and some part of him thinks it's kind of crazy it's taken this fucking long for them to be on the same page. Still, he reaches up and drags her dripping hair behind her ears, stroking down her neck, into the crook where she's sensitive, smiling when she shivers and squeezes her legs around him.
He leans back into the couch, the weight of her falling against him is familiar and he can't begin to express how relieved he is to have it back. While they're trading long, lingering kisses, he finds the zipper to her dress and pulls it down. He can feel her nose wrinkle like she's about to argue, but he gets it off her shoulders and down to her waist. He snaps her bra strap playfully, smirking when she pulls back to frown at him, and he licks his lips, enjoying the lingering taste of her, as he takes her in. She's trying to look stern, but she's got a neon pink bra on and her hair is all over the place; her cheeks are still tear-stained and her lips are all puffy from their kissing.
"You need a shower," he tells her. "You look like a drowned rat."
She gasps. "Noah!" She slaps at his chest. "That is the worst possible thing you could say to a new girlfriend!"
He snorts. "Babe, we've been together a year a half!"
She rolls her eyes. "That was unofficially… It doesn't count!"
"Hell it doesn't," he mutters, before adding more seriously, "And anyway, you make a cute rat…" He tugs on a chunk of wet hair. "But you're also soaked to the bone, and the last thing I need is you complaining you lost your voice and it's all my fault 'cause I was a shitty boyfriend who didn't keep you from getting pneumonia when you were like, pledging your everlasting love or whatever…"
With a sigh, she nods. "Fine… But you're joining me." She hops off his lap, shimmies out of her dress, and starts toward his bathroom.
"No complaints here," he says, following after her. When he catches her around the waist and tosses her over his shoulder, she shrieks and calls him a caveman.
He knows she loves it.
'Cause she loves him.
It only took five and a half years of hard-assed dedication, a year and a half of a no-strings relationship, and three weeks of being totally cut off from each other for it to work out, but… It's totally worth it. Proven when later that night he sees her staring out the window at her city, wearing just his shirt, and for the first time ever, she spots him, inviting him over with a nod of her head. He joins her there, kissing the top of her head, and he wraps his arms around her and gazes out not at the city, but at their reflection there in the window, lit up by the city lights. This moment, right here, makes it all worth it. And after all that work and turmoil and confusion? He's never going to risk not having her…
He's pretty happy with the idea of him and her mirrored in that window for the rest of his life, so that's exactly what they get.
[End.]