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A Puck/Rachel fic.
Noel, if you will ... maybe.
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Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Glee. Wish I did. We'd be seeing a lot more of Puck's "guns" if I did.
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A/N: I just had to write this down, so that I could get back to both my Harry Potter fic and the book I'm writing. Doesn't take place during any particular episode, but probably pretty early in the season. Basically, before Mash-Up. I got the idea for this from another fic that was written. It's the same basic idea, Noah sticking up for Rachel after getting slushied by someone other than him, with my own twist on it.
Also, in my Glee fics ... Rachel isn't infatuated in any way with Finn. Not even a little bit.
Anywhoo ... enough author's note, and on with the story.
As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!
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He walked down the hall, grape slushie in hand, fingers gripping the cup in preparation.
He saw her ahead of him, and when he noticed that her back was to him, he wondered if he should call her name or something, so that she would turn around and get it in the face.
She was wearing a white shirt today. Perfect.
He grew closer and closer, and had opened his mouth to call out, "Berry!" when someone else walked past her and threw a green-colored slushie in her face.
It was one of the Cheerios boyfriends, some dude he knew but never really hung out with.
He couldn't explain what made him do it, but as the guy who'd assaulted her walked past him, he tossed the slushie in his face.
Puck watched the icy liquid spray onto him, covering his face and upper-body. Well, it wasn't like he could take it back now.
Everyone in the hall stopped, shocked that Noah Puckerman had just attacked someone for slushie-ing Rachel Berry, a girl he always slushied because she was so annoying.
Rachel had turned to find the nearest bathroom when she saw what everyone else was looking at, and her face went from displeasure and annoyance to a look of confusion.
"What the hell, Puckerman?" the douche in the letterman's jacket asked, trying to wipe the slushie off of him.
Puck froze momentarily, trying to talk his way out of the sticky situation he'd gotten himself into. "That was for taking away my fun," he answered lamely, walking past his victim and Rachel to get out of the hallway and away from the stares of his peers.
He retreated to the football field to think, and wasn't aware of how long he'd been there when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Unless you're an outrageously hot chick, back off," he commented, not turning around because he thought he knew who it might be.
"I just wanted to thank you," she told him, coming around in front of him.
"Why? I was about to slushie you, he just beat me to it," he told her, looking away. "Get over it."
Rachel pursed her lips. "You know, I can be very perceptive at times, and I'm also a very blunt person, so I'm just going to come out and say it: you're not fooling me. While I don't appreciate the numerous slushies you've thrown in my face, I do appreciate you standing up for me today, even if you won't admit that's what you were doing. I don't believe you're quite as cruel as you'd like people to believe, though the fact that you think you need to portray yourself as such intrigues me. You intrigue me. And while I'm sure I'll be getting another slushie in the face tomorrow, I just wanted to thank you for today, and I hope to see you later. That was it."
She started to walk away, and even though he hadn't really been listening to anything she'd said, he stopped her with a hand around her arm.
She looked back at him with confused eyes, but didn't have the chance to voice her questions before his lips collided with hers.
He couldn't explain it ... he didn't really want to explain it ... but all he could think about was how badly he wanted to be the one to shut her up, and really, it was the easiest way to do it.
Why he was still kissing her, he couldn't explain. She wasn't the greatest kisser ... not compared to the more experienced women he'd ... experienced. But the soft moan that passed through her hips, giving him the opportunity to deepen the kiss, was something that he'd never caused a woman to do, and he enjoyed that he could make her moan. Next step: purr.
He pulled her body flush against his, feeling the stickyness seep into his shirt. She hadn't changed; she'd just cleaned her face and hair off, and he thrilled at the idea that there was only a wet shirt between him and her skin.
"Noah," she moaned when he dipped his head to nibble at her neck.
He paused. No one called him Noah. Only his mom. He wanted to tell her as much, but then she whimpered. She whimpered, because he wasn't kissing her anymore. That drove him nearly over the edge.
He took her to his truck, ignoring her protests that they would miss class, and how important class was, and how she had to keep track of her studies along with her stardom, because she couldn't afford to get lazy now, when she was in her prime, and when he closed the door to his side and she was still nattering on, he shut her up again with his mouth on hers and his hands all over her, and she suddenly forgot what had seemed so important only moments ago.
"Okay, you win," she told him, laying back as his fingers danced around the hem of her slushie-soaked shirt.
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The end. A short little one-shot.
I absolutely love this pairing, can't get enough of Puck's character.
Reviews are loved, positive or negative!
Until next time ...!