Title: Tatoo Me With You

Pairing: Puck/Rachel.

Rating: PG

Word Count: 712

Spoilers: None.

Prompt: Rachel has #20 temporary tattooed on her person, Puck is frustrated when he learns that it isn't permanent.

"You have a tramp stamp… you have a FUCKING tramp stamp."

Rachel tugged violently on Puck's sleeve, looking worriedly around the empty school hallway.

"Stop it," she whispered, still looking around to make sure no one was within earshot.

"Why are you even here this early?" Of course, he had to catch her the one time her shirt rode up while reaching for something on the top shelf of her locker. Damn him and his stupid 20/20 vision. The numbers aren't even that big.

"Do I need to say it again? You have a-" She slapped her hand over his mouth.

"You need to stop repeating that inane and derogatory term. I am not now, nor have I ever been a tramp." He licked her hand and she quickly let it fall away, her face scrunching in disgust.

He smirked, "how 'bout bull's-eye? Ass antlers?" That earned him an elbow to the ribs, which fucking hurt.

"Noah, this is not the time to list all the demeaning terms you've learned from the Internet. Whatever you thought you saw you were wrong, so if you'll excuse me."

He took a stop closer, boxing her in against the row of lockers. He totally knew why she was looking all flighty and nervous, he knew those fucking numbers. He had them tattooed on his shoulder a year earlier; he wore them every damn day.

"Turn around." She just stares at him like a deer in the headlights, he smirks and leans in closer. "Hard or easy way, Rach, up to you."

She could feel him nuzzling against her cheek, his hands sliding to sit low on her back.

"Fine."

Rachel turned, quickly flipping the bottom edge of her shirt up; highly conscious of just how little room she had between the lockers and his chest. His fingers ghosted along the small of her back, just sort of whisper light touches. It was still enough to make her bite her lip. Rachel swore she heard him groan, as his calloused fingers circled her skin. She turned her head slightly, seeing his eyes trained on the small 20. He braced one of his hands against the locker by her head, finally meeting her eyes as his thumb stroked the numbers.

"S'fucking hot, Berry." He couldn't really concentrate with her ass so close to his junk and his brand on her skin. If he hadn't wanted to fuck her before (he did), he totally did now, against the bank of lockers, preferably where everyone could see. Not in a perverted exhibitionist way, but in a she's mine, touch her and I'll cut your limbs off one by one', way.

Puck leaned in nuzzling her cheek with his nose. Rachel turned her head and caught the edge of his mouth with her own. The kiss made her melt back into him. She could feel his arms come around her waist from behind. She momentarily forgot they were in the open and in a highly suggestive position. Her shirt was bunched up in his fist, while he basically blanketed her back, trying to push closer. When his tongue slid against her bottom lip she pulled away, letting her forehead rest on the locker in front of her.

"Skip." She shook her head, gasping a little as his thumb slipped to the edge of her panties. "I can't."

He pushed away from her. "Fine, but later? You can't leave me hanging after stamping my fucking number above your ass." She shook her head at how crude he could be.

"Maybe." She packed her bag fully aware of him watching her the entire time. She may have grabbed a binder she didn't need from the top shelf, just because. That earned her a "baby," which sounded distinctly like a (very gruff) warning. She tried to hide her shiver.

Rachel kissed him quickly, jumping back before his arms could come around her. She was half way down the hall before she turned back, seeing him still standing there, staring.

"It's not permanent, Noah." It almost sounded like he let out a small whine, but she just smiled. "Yet. You always have to audition for a starring role." She gave him a little grin and sauntered off.

Fuck, he loves that girl.