Title: please stay for a while now (or four times Puck was an awesome boyfriend and one time Rachel was an awesome girlfriend)
Rating: T
Genre: Romance
Pairing: PuckxRachel
Warnings: exposure of Puck and the workings of his brain; sexual references and crude language
Summary: It's not like it's any shocking brand new information or any dramatic epiphany shit like that. Like, he's been half in love with her since he was only a punkass sixteen year old boy. Now at twenty-three, he's still a badass mofo, and knows how to keep his girl happy.
i.
Puck wakes up to a pounding head and a throbbing wrist but he considers it worth it with the epic night he had last night. Or at least he assumes it was epic, 'cause he can't remember a fucking thing after Rachel whispering into his ear that she's gotta go but she'll wait up for him.
He groans and rolls over to the nightstand with the blaring alarm clock but hits something warm and firm and smooth halfway. Cracking an eye open, he quirks up a corner of his mouth when Rachel's blur becomes clearer. "'Sup, babe?"
She turns away before producing a cup of chocolate milk (the only thing that can cure any and all of his hangovers, they found). He grunts his appreciation before sitting up against the headboard next to her, and gulps half of the cup.
"You have a tattoo." She points to the pulsing wrist that is resting on her lap.
"Fuck, I was so drunk." He squeezes his eyes shut tight to dim the already faded needle-like pain shooting into his temple and downs the rest of the milk before giving the cup back to her. "It was pro'ly Mike's idea, the ninja bastard," he mumbles, shifting his arm so it's right in front of his face, he squints at the inside of his wrist. "What's it of?"
His eyes focus on the 'love crazy' in red ink scrawled across his wrist with a little gold star next to it.
Of course, this isn't the first time she's hearing about it. Love. Him being in love with her. They said their first I love you's three weeks ago when she was trying to explain to him some shit about the importance of chicks showing female power in television shows today. (Not that he was listening but more so distracted by her gorgeous mouth moving, imagining what it would look like wrapped around his- "Noah! Are you even listening to me?" "Shit, Crazy, I love you but I don't fucking care about what Emily Thorne-In-My-Ass' character represents.")
But it's not like it was any shocking brand new information or any dramatic epiphany shit like that. Like, he's been half in love with her since he was only a punkass sixteen year old boy who didn't know what he had with that sorry excuse of a relationship that week in sophomore year. Plus, you know, Finn and Quinn. Was it really a surprise that after a year of fucking around Burt's auto shop seeing Rachel again when he got to New York kicked the rest of his fine ass onto the Crazy train?
He is now completely okay with admitting that he came for Rachel instead of what he told his mother ("I'm just sick a'ya whining 'bout me wastin' my life here, Ma.") or what he told the prick in the back of his mind (He's just through with feeling like the Lima Loser he's been trying to shake since his father so graciously gave up his crown and bolted). Well, her, and that douchey boyfriend his mother told him she was dating. Punching that pussy when he cheated on Rachel was much more satisfying than Puck cared to understand.
He chances a glance at her when he notices that she's been eerily quiet, and because he doesn't like when she's not talking no matter how much he wants to light himself on fire when she's ranting on and on about who-the-fuck-knows (some things never change), he finds himself filling the unusual silence, "Shit, Rach. If you don't like it I can get it removed. It'll hurt like a bitch, though. And I kinda like it. But if you don't want it..." he trails off when she clears her throat.
"On the contrary. I'm sure in your intoxicated state you found this hilarious, however I find it oddly sweet. Although at first, I was really adamant about you not calling me 'Crazy', it grew on me and I now find it endearing in a 'Puck' sort of way." She bites her lip and holy shit she's turned on. By the tattoo. He is gonna have so much fun with this little information.
"Well..." he says coyly, almost hesitantly and looks down at his hand that's fingering the end of her top. "If you're sure."
"I'm sure!" Puck winces at her volume and she softly apologises before continuing, "I want you to keep it, Noah." She clasps both of her hands around his bicep, tilting her head to look at him earnestly. (Shit, those acting tips from Rachel are stellar.)
Later on, when they're naked and panting and sweating, he feels her finger his wrist, and fuck. He's ready to go again when he has the best idea ever. "Maybe you should get one too."
He takes her answering moan as a fuck yeah before rolling her under him, sliding one hand down between them and the other under her head for a loud kiss to drown her mewls.