Disclaimer: Ownership is neither claimed nor implied.
A/N: Did you ever wonder what happens inside Puck's head? Maybe it's this…
"Oh fuck off," he growled at the clock then turned over and slapped his hand on top of it to make it stop honking at him. Puck lay still in bed, blinking his tired eyes, his face pushed into the cold pillow on Quinn's si…on the other side of the bed. The side of the bed that Quinn used to sleep on when she still lived with him, when he still had hope in his heart.
Yep, there it is, right on time. Every fucking year, first day of school. Noah, breakfast's on the table, yeah, yeah, yeah, so fucking what? Shoving a couple of pop tarts in the toaster then slapping them on a plate does not make you mother of the fucking year. Oh joy, the freakin' brat is up and she's practicing her fucking trumpet already. Puck sat up and growled in frustration. "Shut the fuck up, freak," he shouted at the closed bedroom door then threw himself flat on his bed again. "Mom, Noah swore at me again," he mimicked his sister telling on him. "Oh fuck," he sighed silently as his door flew open.
"Noah, get out of that bed right now, it's the first day of school, at least make it look as though you're going to make an effort for senior year. And stop swearing at your sister," Mrs Puckerman shouted crossly. Puck made his face go blank, the indolent, hateful look that his mother detested. She detested it because it reminded her so much of his dad. "Get up, Noah, I won't tell you again," she yelled. "And take that nipple ring out, I told you before, it'll get infected," she added before slamming the door as she left his bedroom.
"Well hello there," Puck said as he lifted the covers to inspect his junk. "Looking good, feeling great," he sighed with the smallest grin. Puck took himself in hand, literally, to check for any irregularities, any anomalies that might have manifested themselves overnight. He checked a little bit faster, then a bit faster. Faster. Faster. Puck closed his eyes and pictured what she would look like this morning. What she would be wearing, how she would smell, how she would sound…he could imagine her, walking across the parking lot, her yellow baby doll dress fluttering in the breeze, her blond hair curling gently on the ends, he could picture strands of it blowing across her face, sticking to her red lipstick, oh those lips, those pouty lips, and that tongue, yeah the tongue, just poking out to touch…"Unghh," he grunted. Puck opened his eyes and reached for the tissues. Thank you Quinn Fabray, you are still my first jerk of the day, my dick and I salute you.
Puck stood in the shower, contemplating life, school and the fact that he would see her again soon. "Again?" he sighed, looking down his body at his erection. The Quinn Effect hadn't lessened over the last year, in fact, throughout the summer it had gotten slightly worse, become even more of an obsession. "I think I'm going to need steel pants," he whispered to himself. Puck washed himself thoroughly, very thoroughly. "Second time today and it's only seven a.m.," he reminded himself with a groan as the last delicious spasm shivered down his spine. Puck got out of the shower and swiped his hand across the mirror to clear the condensation. "Puckerman, you cannot keep doing this," he told his reflection. "Either your dick is going to fall off, or you're going to go blind or both. You have got to do something about it otherwise you will end up walking round school with a permanent boner. Till you graduate. Blah," he mocked himself.
Puck leaned against the lockers watching the world go by. He wasn't waiting for her, waiting just to catch a glimpse of her, really, he wasn't. He wasn't. Much. Who the fuck is tha…holy crap. Fucking skanky bint. Crap. Shit. Holla. Down boy, he silently willed his excited flesh. The Madonna Like A Virgin look suits you, but you ain't no virgin, darlin', I can attest to tha-oh, oh, oh, Jeez, like it's not fucking hard enough already. No pun intended. Puck frowned when he caught sight of the tattoo at the base of her spine, her shirt leaving a few inches of lightly tanned skin exposed, he watched the gentle sway of her buttocks under the thin cotton skirt. Puck's eyes followed her movements down the hall. How is it that she always seems to walk in slow motion? Where the fuck did she learn how to do that? Oh God, that ass is fi-i-i-ine. And I'm drooling. And horny. And hard. Fuck.
Why did she dye her hair and why pink for fuck's sake? Bet Judy is pissed about that...what? What are they even talking about? We can't have glee club without her, why are they even talking about this? Without her it's just not glee cl..."Puck? Puck? Are you…" Puck started and turned around, tuned in.
"What?" he demanded, super pissed with whoever had disturbed his daydreams. "Sorry Mr Schue, what were you saying?" he asked and tried to look as though he was listening.
"Quinn? Have you seen her?" Mr Schue asked, saying every word like he was talking to an idiot. Puck took offence, the indolent look returned.
"Yeah, bout five six, blond hair, great legs and a banging pair of ti…" Puck said before Mr Schue cut him off.
"Thank you Puck," Mr Schue cried, he knew exactly where Puck was going with that little statement, especially as Puck's hands had lifted to his chest and were describing a much bigger breast size than Quinn Fabray had ever had. Not that Mr Schue knew her breast size or had ever thought about it. Mr Schue shook his head to clear his mind. "But I meant have you seen her over the summer or today," he clarified.
"Not over the summer, no, but I saw her today," Puck answered. No, I didn't see her over the summer because mommy dearest took her to fucking Paris for the fucking summer. "Let's have a change of scene courtesy of your dad, let's do something exciting, something we'll never do again," he silently mimicked Judy Fabray's words when she'd found them together by the pool at the Fabray mansion. Not that we were doing anything, we weren't, we weren't even touching, we were sat on separate fucking loungers for God's sake. Fair enough, we had already been swimming but we had our suits on, it's not like we were skinny dipping, not that I didn't suggest it, I did, but she didn't go for that, said she wouldn't show me her tits. Yes, it was dark and yes we had a few beers with us, we'd even drunk a couple already but all we were doing was talking. Honest. Judy didn't even remember what day it was. We did, that's for sure. We remembered it. And wanted to drown their sorrows, lose themselves in alcohol which, looking back, might have been a pretty stupid idea. Puck was still convinced that he could have persuaded Quinn to remove at least the bikini top if they'd had a couple more beers and a bit more time. She probably would have too.
"I heard she went to Paris for the summer," Tina twittered enviously.
"Probably for surgery to get rid of the baby fat and the stretch marks," Santana mumbled bitchily. "'Cos even after a year she still didn't have the abs back, did she?" she mocked. Puck glared.
"I'll go find her," Rachel offered and hurried from the choir room.
"You still like her, don't you?" Finn asked in the locker room after he spotted both of the pictures in Puck's locker.
"Define like," Puck muttered with a pissed off frown.
"You think about her," Finn said with a dreamy expression on his face. "You think about her all the time, you dream about her, you wake up…"
"With a raging hard on because she's constantly there in your freakin' head," Puck interrupted, he paced around erratically, his arms flying in the air. "You can't shower without having to rub one out because you remember walking in on her when she was doing a little self grooming and the image is burned onto your retinas, locked in your mind just ready to pop to the surface every time you walk in the fucking bathroom. And every single place in your house holds some sort of memory, and you can only sleep on one side of the bed because the other side is her side, even though it's been over a year since she left and school, even school, right? The hallways, the choir room, the football field, everywhere I fucking look it's like I see her there only right now it's not her, it's just someone who has her body," Puck stopped talking abruptly, aware of how much he had revealed, relieved it was only to Finn and no one else. "Maybe I still think about her sometimes," he shrugged, embarrassed. Wisely, Finn said nothing. Puck rolled his eyes. Understate much? Blah.
"How was your day?" Mrs Puckerman asked her sullen looking son.
Well actually, it started off pretty good this morning when I had to masturbate before I even got out of bed because I got to thinking about a certain girl, I won't say her name because even the sound of it puts you off your dinner, leaves you crying for hours and then you'll spend the next three weeks reminding me about safe sex. Anyhoo, I had to knock another one out in the shower because every time I walk in the bathroom I remember the day you were out grocery shopping and I walked in on her shaving her sweet little puss, that was the day I bent her over the side of the tub and fucked her from behind and it was fucking awesome even though she always denies ever having sex with me except that time at her house when I got her pregnant. Ha, I bet she wouldn't dare swear on her bible that we only ever did it once, we were just quiet so you never knew either. Bet she never told anybody that the last time we had sex was in New York, that was a ton of fun trying to escape from Zizes to go do it in weird places, a glass elevator is really exciting, just in case you were wondering. Oh and you know how you hate my nip ring? Well, I think you'd hate my Prince Albert even more, if you knew about it that is, but I don't give a shit, Qui...sorry, she who shall not be named fucking loves it, says it really hits the spot but you really don't want to hear that, do you? Puck thought to himself. "Fine," he replied, what else could he say?
"Good," Mrs Puckerman said with relief. "Your dad called, he wants to take you and Sophia out for dinner at the weekend, he has a new girlfriend and you're going to love her, apparently."
"My life is complete," Puck muttered, sarcasm dripping from every word. He sighed dramatically and allowed himself to fall full length, face first onto the couch.
"Please don't do that, Noah," his mother sighed. Puck sighed even harder.
When did she get that tattoo? Why did she get it? Who is it of? And does she know what it actually does to me? And what's with the pink hair and grunge look? Where did my Quinn go? If Judy hadn't dragged her to fucking Paris all summer, if we'd been able to spend some time together, if...argh. If. If, if, if. Fucking stupid word.
"Noah? Noah?" his mom called and from the tone of her voice, she'd probably shouted him a few times.
"What?" Puck groaned. What now? Jeez, can't I just have a fucking minute to fucking die? And don't ask me to get up yet because even thinking about that tattoo has given me a little bit of a stiffy. I give it a week and then I'll have her again. A week and she is going to be begging for it, she loves fucking as much as I do...shit, what does she want me to do? Fuck, I really have to start listening to people. "What do you want?" he pouted.
"Can you call at your Aunt Cynthia's to pick Sophia up, please?" his mom asked.
"Sure," Puck replied with as much enthusiasm as he would have for working in the sewer.
"And pick up dinner on your way home," she added, turning in her seat to catch her favourite show on TV.
We're going to be on that show one day. A dysfunctional families special. Divorced, check, two kids, check, dead beat dad, check, son a teenage delinquent, check, daughter a fucking freak, check, blah, blah, blah. Yes Maury, my son tried to murder me in my bed because he's a fucking idiot with an obsession about his baby momma who kicked him to the kerb when she got a better offer from her own momma. And he doesn't even know where his daughter is. "I'm going," Puck growled as he realised he'd heard his mom shout him a couple of times. "Pick up dinner from where?" he called over his shoulder at the door.
"From Bob Evans, I already ordered and paid online, you just have to pick it up," his mom called.
"Great, chicken-n-noodle," Puck sighed and pulled a face. He wasn't that pissed about it really because anything cooked a couple of miles away from his mom's disaster zone of a kitchen had to taste better than anything she'd ever produced in the damn place.
"Good morning down there, did you sleep well? I know I did, and I think I only dreamed of her a couple of times, is that how you remember the night? No? Did you think about her more? Thought so. Here you are, let me shake your hand," Puck said, looking under the covers, he often wondered if other guys did this, carried on actual conversations with their dicks. Puck liked to ask his dick questions then make it nod, that shit never got old. In fact..."Do you think we might see her today?" he asked, his dick nodded against his stomach. "Do you think you're going to want to get inside that sweet little pussy again?" Another nod. "And how about Santana, we both know she's into girls now, like she ever managed to keep it totally a secret before, ha ha ha ha ha, but she is still looking fine, isn't she? Back in that little cheerleader outfit, mmm m mmm, you would totally be into that, wouldn't you?" he asked. Nothing, except a slight deflation. "That was unexpected," Puck told himself. "Heidi Klum," he said randomly, no response. "Scarlett Johansson," no response. "Taylor Swift, Demi Lovato, Rhianna?" he almost begged. "Girl on girl porn?" Nothing, just a little more softening. "Quinn Fabray," he whispered. BOING! Straight to attention, full throttle. "So you're a one girl wonder now, right?" he asked his dick, it nodded. "Fucking great," he sighed and dropped the covers.
"Noah, get up," his mom called as she opened the door.
Puck threw himself over onto his belly and nearly emasculated himself, but his mom didn't really need to see him making a tent in his bed, now did she? "I'm up," he growled. Well my dick is, anyway.
"Noah, awake is not up," she said, sternly. Puck muttered that he was getting up. "Make sure you do, you have to take Sophia to breakfast club this morning," she advised before leaving his room.
"Fucking great," Puck sighed as he rolled back over onto his back. One, just one toot on that fucking trumpet and it's going straight up her fucking nose.
"Puck, I have something to tell you," Mr Schue said quietly, keeping Puck behind after class. "Take a seat," he advised gently.
Ok, who's dead? No one is this nice to me for no reason. Is it my mom? Will I have to take care of my sister for forever? Because if I do, that fucking trumpet is going. Today. Oh crap, I missed that. Concentrate Puck, think about what he's saying. Beth? Beth? I heard him say Beth, I know I did, wait, back up, oh crap I need to say that out loud. "Mr Schue, tell me that again," Puck begged. "Please?"
"Shelby is teaching here, part time," Mr Schue repeated. "She and Beth have moved back here to Lima, I just want you to be prepared. Ok?"
"Can-can I see her?" Puck asked when he knew he could speak without embarrassing himself.
"That I don't know," Mr Schue admitted. "I just didn't want you to bump into her and not be prepared. Do you think you could speak to Quinn about it? She really needs to know too."
"I'll try Mr Schue," Puck replied then his expression changed, he looked a little sad, "but she's not my Quinn anymore, I don't know what happened to her."
"Just come with me, please?" Puck begged.
"Why should I?" Quinn replied. Well, Quinn's voice replied. Almost her voice. Even her voice sounded strange, it had a husky note. Everything about her was just a touch off. It was her, but it wasn't.
"I think you'll want to see this," Puck encouraged and took Quinn's hand to lead her down the hall, the tingle in his palm thrilled him more then he'd like to admit. Quinn pulled her hand away but carried on walking beside him. Puck felt a little ashamed that he hadn't prepared her more when she glanced back at him after she first laid eyes on Shelby. Puck saw the hurt in her eyes, the vulnerability. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry when he saw Quinn, the real Quinn. And then she shut down again.
Please answer the door, please, please, please, please, please, ple-oh. Fuck, do I admit I followed her home? No, that just makes you a stalker. You got the information from someone official, that's a better idea, yeah, sounds plausible. "I have friends in law enforcement," he lied in answer to Shelby's question. "She looks just like Quinn," he said, totally unnecessarily, they both knew that the little girl between them was Quinn's 'mini-me'.
"Do you want to hold her?" Shelby asked quietly. Puck felt like he'd found a slice of heaven, or something really close to it. And he didn't ever want the moment to end.
"Menthol one hundreds? Really, skank?" Puck asked, picking up Quinn's cigarettes from the vanity unit.
"This is the girls' bathroom," Quinn replied as she concentrated on fixing her thick eyeliner.
Blah, blah, blah, just fucking look at me, let me see that you're not hurting, I have to know that you're ok. "I saw Beth," he told her. "She's perfect," he sighed, a weird feeling coursing through him, pride, maybe? "She looks like you, well, the old you," he told Quinn with a dismissive sneer. "You look like a real housewife of Reno..."
For fuck's sake. Really? How about knocking? "Could you knock before you come in?" Puck asked his mom as he grabbed a pillow to cover his groin.
"Noah," his mom cried in shocked embarrassment.
"What?" Puck shouted back. "I'm seventeen, this is pretty much all I think about," he told her. You really don't need to know how many times a day I do this. Actually you really don't need to know who I was thinking about, 'cos for once it wasn't Quinn Fabray. Well ok, it was, I lied about that, so fucking shoot me. "Can I help you?" he asked with a dollop of sarcasm.
"Well, yes, but wash your hands first," his mom instructed then left him to compose himself. "You have a visitor," his mom remembered to tell him through the closed door.
For fuck's sake, I can't even jerk off in peace. She wouldn't have disturbed me if I was doing fucking homework. Puck thrust the pillow away and looked down at his now almost flaccid dick. "I think we'll pick this up again later, I'm not in the mood right now," he told it before tucking it back away in his pants.
"Quinn," Puck said in shock when he came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I saw the picture of you with her," Quinn whispered tearfully. "She showed it to me but she still won't let me see her," she added before she burst into a full blown crying jag.
"Come here," Puck sighed and dragged Quinn into his arms to hug her better. "Shh," he soothed quietly as he stroked her back, tried to comfort her.
Eventually Quinn calmed down, pulled herself together. "I don't know what to do," she claimed. "How can I get Shelby to treat me the same as you?" she asked.
"Come on Q, you know what you have to do," Puck said, his hands on Quinn's cheeks keeping her looking at him. Quinn sighed, closed her eyes and nodded her head. Puck kissed her forehead. "Better now?" he asked, again Quinn nodded.
"Thank you," Quinn mouthed with sparkling eyes, she couldn't say the words fully otherwise she'd be in tears again.
Puck watched Quinn leave with a little bit of trepidation. He was a little scared about what she'd do now. He hoped she would revert to his Quinn, the one he knew and loved. Oh alright, I do, I admit it, I fucking love Quinn Fabray, alright? I always have, I always will and there's nothing that will ever change that.
"Sophia, come on," Puck shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "God," he growled and kicked the newel post in frustration when she didn't immediately appear. "No, take it back, you are not getting in my truck with that thing. No. I don't care, stop whining. No. MOM, I'm not taking her if she takes that stupid trumpet," he yelled.
"Sophia, no trumpet. And hurry up, your dad will be waiting for you both," their mom called. She was looking forward to an evening to herself for a change.
Once in the truck Sophia sat mutinously, glaring out of the window and at her brother in turn, giving huge body shaking sighs. "I'm telling dad that you got a nipple ring," she threatened.
"So fucking what?" Puck scoffed. "What's he gonna do? Rip it out?"
Sophia scowled even more and crossed her arms firmly. "I'm telling him you said the f word," she added then poked her tongue out at Puck.
"Whatever, I don't give a shit, freak," Puck growled. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," he hissed then poked his tongue out at her. Sophia almost burst into tears but she was too much like her brother to give in to weakness like that. For an eight year old, Sophia Puckerman was a pretty tough cookie. What a fucking waste of a Saturday night. Mrs H couldn't have been any more obvious. "Come back tonight after my husband goes to work, I need you to unclog my pipes." Puck thought about his client's offer. He better be fucking grateful I gave up a fucking awesome blow job for this 'cos Jeez, that woman can suck, and the sex is fucking amazing. Don't know where she learned how to do what she does with her pussy but fuck, she can make me come in record time.
"Ahh, here you are, finally," David Puckerman said, standing up from the table as he spotted his kids walk into the restaurant. "Jeez, Noah, you got so big," he exclaimed.
Yeah, asshole, that's 'cos the last time you saw me I was thirteen years old and I'll be eighteen in five weeks, strange how that happens, dipshit, your kids grow up and you miss it 'cos you're off fucking Ms Super-teen. "Sure did," Puck replied. "You remember dad, don't you Soph?" he asked sarcastically, bringing Sophia to stand in front of him, his hands protectively on her shoulders. She might be an annoying little shit, but she was his annoying little shit and he didn't like to think that she was scared or nervous about meeting their dad for the first time in a long time.
"Sophia, you look just like your mom," David said with excruciating smarm, he'd bent over to look into his daughter's face. Puck felt Sophia tense up and squirm backwards into him, he gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. David noticed the little girl's discomfort and straightened up. "Well, you two, I'd like you to me..."
"No fucking way," Puck hissed in disgust. "Seriously?" he demanded, his eyes locked with hers. "Does he know? Did you tell him?" he asked. "This is sick. You know she's only seventeen, right?" he said in disgust.
"Noah, please, will you sit down," David insisted, giving Puck's hand a tug.
"No," Puck cried, yanking his hand away. "You know who she is, right?" Puck asked his dad with a certain amount of glee. "She is the mother of your grandchild," he relished the look of shock on his dad's face when that little piece of news sank in. "Oh yeah, I was there first, I was her first and I've met some of your exes, well, I say 'met' but you know what I mean, so I know for a fact that she's already had better. Ha, bigger and better," he announced with delight. "Good luck with that, skank, but if you think there's a future for you and my dad, you are sadly deluded, he never stays with anyone for more than a couple of years, sometimes he goes back for seconds though, right dad? Or was that just with mom? Come on Soph, we're out of here," he said, tugging his sister behind him as he walked out of the restaurant.
"Noah, wait," David called after them, Puck and Sophia didn't turn around, they gave it legs and got out of there as fast as they could.
"Puck," Quinn called, "Puck, wait," she said as she watched him turn around as the door closed. "Please Puck, just come back," she sighed almost silently.
Puck looked back at his dad and Quinn in disgust, he felt like just standing there and screaming. How? Why? Why the fuck would she want to get with an old man, especially an old man who wasn't quite as well endowed as he, Puck, was, according to at least five of his pool clients anyway, and according to Janelle Fererra across the street, and the twins on the corner - at the same time, by the way - and Loren Knight, his mom's best friend, she'd been mesmerised for hours by his dick, especially the thick gold ring through the end of it and told him a ton of times that he was bigger than his dad. Puck watched in sick fascination as Quinn pulled free of his dad's possessive hand on her shoulder and followed him out of the restaurant, leaving his dad stood there like a dick.
How could she? How could she do this to me? Anyone but him, anyone. Who the fuck am I kidding? How could she even think about being with anyone but me?
"Quinn isn't really dad's new girlfriend, is she?" Sophia asked Puck.
"Course not, Soph," Puck replied as they headed back to the truck, "she's got much better taste than that, I mean, she used to date me, right?" he teased with a wink. At least I hope she isn't. How am I going to get her back? I need her back, I have to have her back...her and Beth...