Title: I Can't Have Who I Love (But You Can)
Category: Glee
Genre: Drama/Romance/Friendship
Ship: Puck/Rachel, Brittany/Santana
Rating: Teen
Prompt: "You could get your heart broken or... you could have the greatest love affair the world has ever known. But you're never gonna know unless you try." by gabi_in_wndrlnd – puckrachel drabble meme (part 8)
Word Count: 1,552
Summary: "I saw you and Quasimodo walking down the hall today, arm in arm, making 'have my babies' eyes at each other…"
I Can't Have Who I Love (But You Can)
-1/1-
"Ow!" Puck yelped, flying forward from the sudden impact of the slap against the back of his head. He turned around in computer chair and glared at the angry Latina girl scowling at him, invading his once peaceful bedroom. "The hell was that for?" He rubbed the offending spot on his head that still stung.
"You're an idiot!" she snapped back. Pacing, she started mumbling under her breath in Spanish; he gave up trying to figure out what she was calling him and just waited for her to cool down. Ten minutes later, he was still waiting…
"So?" he finally asked, getting tired with her tirade.
Taking a deep breath, she turned back around and stuffed her hands on her hips. "What is wrong with you?"
Rubbing the furrow of his brows, feeling a headache coming on, he shook his head. "San, I've got no clue what crawled up your ass and died…"
"You!" She pointed at him angrily. "You are the reason I'm so—so—Ugh!" She threw her hands up. "Why do I even bother?"
"Beats me," he muttered, shrugging lazily.
Licking her lips, she drew in a deep breath and then stared at him. "Do you even know how much I would give to be able to—to walk down the hall with Brittany on my arm?" she asked, her voice deep and thick with emotion.
He frowned, having no idea where this conversation was going. Like, he knew she was into girls, or more to the point Brittany, but he had no idea what that had to do with him…
"What I would give to have the girl I love give up everything else and just be mine…!"
He shook his head slowly. "I get it… You're into Britt, what's that—"
"Not in to, Puck! I'm in love with her…" She stared at him searchingly. "Okay?" She shook her head. "This isn't me just being me… This isn't Santana being a slut, all right?" she sneered. "This is me being totally fucked up, head over heels, stomach filled with butterflies, heart on my sleeve in love!"
"Okay…" He shifted in his seat. "Okay, I get it. You love her…" He lifted a shoulder. "Good for you."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "You idiot! You are completely in love with that animal-sweater wearing lawn gnome!"
He glared. "Hey! We talked about this… You don't make fun of Rachel anymore and I stop making butch-lesbian jokes!"
She stalked toward him, and for a second he was legit a little scared of her… Santana was off her nut, okay? He had good reason to fear for his life… or, at the very least, his balls.
Shaking her head, she spat, "Eres un estupido hijo de perra!"
"Okay…" He scowled. "I'm like ninety perfect sure you just called me stupid… again…"
"I tell you that you're in love with Rachel… and all you do is tell me not to make fun of her?" She shook her head incredulously. "Are you even listening to me?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes I zone out when people yell at me…"
Grinding her teeth, she took a deep moment to try and get herself under control.
"What brought this on anyway?" he wondered. "You were flirting Brittany's brains out this morning… She giving Artie another chance or something?"
Santana shook her head, her shoulders slumping a little. "No, it's not like that… I just…" She shrugged. "I saw you and Quasimodo walking down the hall today, arm in arm, making 'have my babies' eyes at each other and I just…" She looked at him, her eyes wide and sad. "I want that, Puck… I want to be able to do that with Brittany! I—" She sniffled, raking a hand over her eyes quickly. "It's not fair! It's—" She laughed humorlessly. "It's so fucked!"
He stared at her, figuring she had a lot to say and not much she wanted to hear.
"You…" She threw a hand at him. "You're in love with Rachel… But you don't do anything about it!" She rolled her eyes. "I'm in love with Brittany and I—I do everything to hold onto her! But… Can I walk down the halls with her on my arm and not get slusheed? Can I serenade her or—or fucking kiss her and not have people throw around labels or call me down or tell me how wrong it is? No!" She started pacing again. "You have her right there and you're just—You just play the good friend! You pretend you don't notice when she's gazing up at you with those stupid puppy-dog eyes of hers! You act like it's not you she's singing about when she gets on one of her sad love song rolls! And we all have to suffer through that, Puck!" She sneered at him. "And then, when she's not looking, you look at her the same way, you pussy! You've got that dumb smile on your face and you're all cheerful all the time and you beat up anybody who even thinks about throwing slushees at her!" She threw her hands up. "But do you date her? Huh?" She stabbed a finger through the air at him. "Do you finally put us all out of our misery and just fall in love with her, get married, and have big-schnozzed, mohawked babies? No!" She stomped toward him. "What right do you have, Puckerman? When I can't have the one I love and you can, what right do you have to not do everything you can to fucking love her?" She stared at him searchingly, panting with her agitation. "Answer me!"
His teeth clenched and he leaned back from her screaming. "I get it… You're pissed because you've got lady-wood for Brittany and you can't rub it everybody's faces… But don't put your bullshit on me and Rachel," he told her, his voice low and cutting.
Santana took a step back, staring down at him through narrowed eyes. "So tell me you don't love her then… Tell me you're not crazy for Yentl."
"Stop calling her names!" he shouted, standing from his chair, face flushed with anger.
"Make me," she snapped back.
"So what if I love her," he growled. "What the hell does that have to do with you and your closet issues?"
She raised a brow, glaring.
"Face it, San…" He threw his hands up. "Nobody's keeping you in the closet but you!" He shook his head. "You think we'd give a flying fuck if you serenaded Britt in glee?" He laughed. "Nobody cares! We all know you're into her! So just… Fucking be with her!"
"That's really rich coming from you…" she scoffed.
"You know what? You don't know half the shit between me and Rachel…" He stared at her darkly. "So she's looking at me differently today, what about next week? What about when Finn stops chasing after Quinn?" He cocked his head at her questioningly. "Huh? What then?" He ground his teeth. "How the hell am I supposed to be okay when suddenly she loves Finn more?"
Her brows furrowed. "That's what's got you acting like such a pussy?"
His jaw ticked as he glared at her.
"Puck…" She shook her head. "Rachel's done with Finn…"
He rolled his eyes.
"No, seriously… She's looked at Finn a lot of ways! Like he's adorable but dumb… Like he's cute but confusing… Like she's grateful…" She stared up at him. "But she doesn't even give him those looks anymore. She hasn't for months! And how she looks at you? She's never looked at him like that…"
Shoulders slumping, he slunk back over to a chair and collapsed in it. He was quiet a long moment, introspective, before he finally asked her, "What the hell am I supposed to do?"
Santana, just as tired from their argument, sat down on the edge of his bed. "You, I dunno… You get the girl…"
"That easy?" he snorted.
"Kinda of…"
He raised an unconvinced brow.
"Look… Here's how I see it," she said, spreading her arms out. "You could get your heart broken or... you could have the greatest love affair the world has ever known." She shrugged. "But you're never gonna know unless you try."
He nodded slowly. "You're getting soft, San."
She snorted, rising from her seat and stalking toward the door. "Whatever."
"Hey?"
Stopping, she looked back over at him, looking completely unaffected.
"When you're ready to come out of the closet,Brittany's going to be there to catch you…" He shrugged. "And I'll fuck up anybody who tries to tear you down."
Her face softened slightly. "I can take care of myself," she said though, lifting her chin stubbornly.
He grinned slowly. "Yeah… I know you can."
"Just take my advice, all right?" She walked out the door, shouting back, "Get your crazy midget already!"
Chuckling under his breath, Puck shook his head. But it wasn't long before he dug out his cell phone and texted Rachel.
Hey! Meet me 711… Grape slushee?
He got a reply a minute later.
It's a date. 3
With a smirk, he grabbed up his jacket and left his room, thinking he could give her a better date than a corner store and frozen corn syrup.
So he did.
[End.]
Spanish to English:
Eres un estupido hijo de perra! – You are a stupid son of a bitch!