A/N: So I haven't watched Glee since the first season and kind of lost interest in it since then. So I only know what happened afterwards from a quick summary on the Glee wiki after feeling a bit nostalgic and going to read some awesome Glee fics only to realize I didn't know who half the characters were and wondering how on Earth Puck ended up sleeping with Rachel's bio mom. While I was doing that this story began forming when I couldn't find a fic where Mr. Schue blackmails Puck instead of Finn. In this story Puck steals his mother's car before season 1 starts but does not take the ATM because unlike Finn I don't think Puck would care if he had to do detention but would only join Glee only if there were greater consequences.
Just as everybody knew that the sky was blue and the grass was green there was one simple fact that was just as well known among the populace of William McKingley High and that was Noah "Puck" Puckerman was a certified badass. As much as the football team sucked there was absolutely no question as to who ruled the school. No matter what those stupid fucks on the hockey team seem to think he and his boys were the kings. His best bud Finn may be the beloved golden boy but he was more than satisfied with his role as the biggest stud of them all. What was there not to like. Especially when all the dicks wanted to be him and all the chicks (and their hot mothers) wanted to do him. Life was good. Really fucking good. So of course just when he thought it couldn't get any sweeter that's when the good ol' Puckerman gene decides to kick in and fuck everything up.
To this day he still has no idea how he ended up driving his mother's Volvo into the convenience store. Even now he can only remember what happened after, once he was out of the car and for some reason standing in front of the ATM inside. Getting arrested before his sophomore year even began was definitely not something he planned on. As much as it boosted his already badass reputation he always planned on making it out of Lima. He always planned on actually making something of himself. At least he was. Now he wasn't too sure. His rap sheet may be far from clean but he never got in this deep before. Of course it could have been worst, much worst. Damages aside, the fact that he ran away without taking anything meant the judge was more than willing to let him go with a slap on the wrist.
Narrowly avoiding juvie should have been a wake up call. It wasn't. How could it be when he was so certain of his ability to rule the joint if it ever came to that. His badassherry wouldn't allow for anything less. No. What made him open his eyes was what happened after. When it all went down he expected his mother to chew him out. The woman was batshit crazy half the time so he was expecting her to go mental on his ass. What he got instead was silence. When the tears came he never felt more like a shit in his whole entire life. Loud and hysterical he could take. Fuck, we was more or less use to that. What he wasn't use to and never wanted to get use to was the quiet, heart wrenching tears he only witnessed her crying once before. The day his worthless ol' man up and left them. If he was to rank the worst moments in his life, this legit, would have been it. For every time he swore he was nothing like the glorified sperm donor that helped bring him into the world he never felt more like his father than in that single moment. That fucked with him more than the threat of being locked away ever could.
While he was still far from being the perfect son/student/anything really, when the summer came to an end and he was back at school Puck made an effort not to do anything to land his ass in the back of another police car. So when Mr. Schuester calls him into his office he really doesn't think much of it. For a teacher he was pretty cool. Unlike most of the others he never looks at him as if he was a complete waste of space. In a totally not gay way he couldn't help but kind of likes the dude. Once in a while he even tries to pay attention in Spanish class. It lasts for about a minute before he's suddenly distracted by the way the blonde Cheerio in the third row nibbles on the end of her pen or how high the skirt on the chick to his left rides up her thigh when she crosses her legs. Certain he was about to get a talkin' to about his less than stellar results in the last test (cause really the only Spanish he knows is the shit Santana screams when he's balls deep in her) he slouches in his seat with a lazy smirk. A smirk that quickly disappears as a small packet is silently placed on the table in front of him.
"You want to tell me how long you've had a drug problem?" Mr. Schue asks, so serious and shit he barely resist the urge to roll his eyes in spite of the panic he could feel beginning to set in. For real dude needs to take a chill pill. Or maybe take a bit of a whiff from the bag sitting between them because seriously when does that much weed constitutes a drug problem.
"S'not mine," was his instant reply even as he racked his brain trying to think of a better place to hide his actual stash. Because yeah, he does have some put away for a rainy day - so he indulges once in a while, big deal - but the pack in front of him was definitely not his. For one he knew better than to leave the stuff in its original packaging. So fucking amateur. "I swear it. I've never seen that before in my life."
"Look, if it was up to me there wouldn't be any mandatory bi-weekly afternoon locker checks," the man tells him, sounding almost apologetic and a little guilty as he shifts in his seat. "But I can't let this go Puck. Not only is it against school regulations it is also against the law. I'm afraid I have no choice but to get the authorities involved."
"That's bullshit Mr. Schue," he finds himself exploding, shooting out of his seat to slam a fist on the table.
Clearly startled by his reaction Mr. Schue jerks slightly before looking up at him with a frown.
Frustrated because even if he was telling the truth there was no way anyone would believe him - and of course there was also the issue of the packet he actually did have wrapped up in one of his jocks and stuffed into the darkest corner of his football locker - Puck backs away and runs a hand through the bristly top of his 'hawk in an attempt to stop himself from losing it completely and making things worst. Fuck. There was no way he would be able to escape juvie this time. Shaking his head and hating how much of pussy he sounded he murmured under his breath, "Shit, this is going to kill ma."
"Look Puck, I know what it's like to struggle with making good life choices, and I don't want to see you throw away everything you have to offer the world and I do think you really have something great to offer," Mr. Schuester tells him and actually sounds like he believes it. "I really should report this..."
At the hesitation he could clearly hear in the older man's voice Puck immediately snaps his head up. Hardly allowing himself to hope he prompts, "But?"
"But I will be willing to forget ever finding anything if you do something to prove you're willing to make a change. I don't want to see you in jail but I won't be able to forgive myself if I allow you to continue on the path you are set on and not try to do something about it," was his earnest reply.
Feeling like he was about to make a deal with the devil but not caring if it meant he would never have to see his mother cry the way she did because of him ever again Puck replies, "Whatda you want me to do, Mr. Schue?"
Being the badass he was Puck wasn't a stranger to being stared at. If it wasn't some chick checking out his hot ass then it was some shithead tryin' to see whether or not they could take him. As if they really had a chance against his guns. While most times that was the case he was certain that none of the stares he was currently being subjected to were any of the ones he was use to. Not like it mattered. In spite what Mr. Schuester said he absolutely had no plans to stick around any longer than he had to. Seriously he could feel his badassness crying out with every second he spent in the homo-explosion otherwise known Glee. Juvie was actually looking better and better with passing moment.
From his lazy perch on the far side of the bleachers in the choir room - well away from the mismatch collection of losers crowded together on the other side glaring at him - he sends a superior smirk their way and snarked, "Yo loser patrol, try taking a picture it'll last longer."
"Puck," Mr. Schuester takes a break in whatever the fuck he was saying to reprimand, showing his clear disapproval with a frown. Nevermind the fact that no one was listening. In fact he was certain everybody had stopped listening the moment he, the Puckerone himself, stepped into the room and was announced as the newest addition to their little freak show and handed the lyrics to 'You're the One That I Want' before he took his seat. "I know you guys have all had your differences in the past but I'm sure we will be able to come together as a team-"
"Hell to the naw Mr. Schue, there's no way we can work with white boy over there," the black girl whose name he couldn't be fucked to remember interrupted, spitting out the words 'white boy' as if it was the most offensive thing in the English language while standing up in her seat with a snap of the fingers.
"Come on guys," Mr Schuester urges, his frown deepening and whole body radiating disappointed vibes (he has a sixth sense for these things thanks to his crazy ass Jewish mother). "You all know what it's like to be bullied and-"
"Yeah, by him," the gay one hisses in that annoyingly high pitched voice (seriously has his balls dropped yet) of his.
Somehow managing to deepen his frown even more the Spanish teacher slash Glee director didn't even get a chance to open his mouth before he is interrupted yet again.
"Mr. Schue I don't think you comprehend the magnitude of the kind of torment and absolute ridicule this, this Neanderthal has subjected each and everyone of us in this room to," Berry speaks up as she too shoots up in her seat. "I think I speak for everyone when I say that while we need the numbers his inclusion to Glee would only prove to be a great detriment to our ability to form a cohesive working unit."
"What she said," Wheels agreed with a nod.
"T-that's right M-Mr. Schue," the Asian chick stutters her agreement.
The Berry chick practically beams upon hearing their support. Far from insulted by the rejection Puck smirks. When he was first told of having to join the freak parade the first thing he did was make plans to get himself kicked out ASAP. After all there was only so many times the losers could get a slushie to the face and/or get thrown into the dumpster before they finally convince Mr. Schuester to let him go. Although he was looking forward to upping his daily entertainment this was much, much better. Hell, if they manage to get him out of this now he might even consider laying off all of them for a bit.
"Look guys, while I can understand why you are all upset that Puck is here, you have to see what a great opportunity this is. For all of you. Outside this room you are the loser, the nerd, the freak, the jock, but right here, right now, none of that matters. Nothing matters but what you do from now on. You can't change what the rest of the school think of Glee or how they treat each and every one of you overnight, but you can start changing how you see and treat one another," Mr. Schuester tells them, so earnest and passionate that even Puck couldn't help but find his attention drawn to the curly haired man. Seeing that he has managed to gain their attention he smiles warmly and adds, "This is it guys. This is your chance, your chance to be a part of something greater than anyone of you, something special. So let's put aside what has already come to past and start looking towards what is to come."
No doubt surprised that he was able to actually finish what he wanted to say and not wanting to give the Glee freaks a chance to ruin his streak Mr. Schuester continues speaking, eyes immediately finding the Berry chick.
"Rachel, you told me you needed a male lead who could keep up with you, Puck is that lead."
At that Puck frowned. For the first time it occured to him that Mr. Schuester has actually never heard him sing. That is not to say his voice wasn't totally badass because come on, he was the Puckster, of fucking course it was. But other than his mother and his brat of a sister no one knew that, or the fact that he could shred a guitar like nobody's business. When in the fuck did Mr. Schue hear him sing?
"While I'm sure that Noah is an adequate vocalist I do not think his voice will be up to my exacting standards," the Berry chick returned with a confidence that left absolutely no room for argument.
"I know you are not fond of Puck, but you haven't even heard him sing yet," Mr. Schuester replies with a frown and though the same could be said for him Puck found his attention instantly turning to the midget on the other side with a frown.
"That may be so, but I do know exactly what I require in a leading man and unfortunately Noah Puckerman lacks one too many of the necessary requirements," crazy Berry stated, tilting her head up and displaying every bit of that prissy holier-than-thou attitude and spew of words that often made him want to light himself on fire.
Although he managed to process a word or two of her little rant he understood enough to know that the queen of freaks didn't think he was good enough to be a part of her show. So what if he didn't actually want to be anywhere near them? Just because he didn't want to be a part of their little singing and dancing parade of gay didn't mean he wasn't good enough. It just meant he was too badass to waste on their pathetic club. He was certainly not lacking anything. Bitch was really crazy if she couldn't recognize a stud such as himself when she saw one. She was lucky he was even in the same room as her. If anything she should be getting wet at just the thought of singing with him, not fucking complaining. So not kosher.
"Look Mr. Schue, let's face it, if this is the best we can get for a leading man then there is no point in me continuing to put my hopes in an endeavour I am certain is headed for failure," she continues. Then without another word she picks up her back, slings it over her shoulder and begins storming towards the exit.
Before she even gets halfway Puck finds himself shooting up in his seat and demanding, "Are you questioning my badassness?"
Clearly startled by his outburst she stops and gives him a look of confusion. Then as if deciding he wasn't worth her time she lets out a huff and dismisses him with a haughty, "I would if that was an actual word."
Not believing he had just been told by the Queen of Gleeks of all people he narrows his eyes. Well fuck that! Nobody questions his badassness.
Dropping the sheet of lyrics he easily catches up to her as she nears the door and grabs her hand. He watches as she turns around, her dark eyes fixing him with a glare. He smirks at her and can't help the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen as he sings, "I got chills. They're multiplying."
Okay, so he knew the fucking lame-ass song. Totally not his fault. Considering he more often than not gets out voted by his ma and sister on movie nights and Grease was one of their favorite movies it was hard not to. Though he had to admit Grease was way better than getting chewed out for not being a good Jew every time they end up watching a holocaust movie. So yeah, he knows the words. Fuck off.
"And I'm losing control," he continues to sing as he takes a step forward.
Like a deer caught in headlights she stumbles back. Her movements bringing him along with her as her back hits the closed door.
Smirk widening he crowds her, his face a mere hair breath's away as he leans down singing, "Cause the power you're supplying. It's electrifying!"
When all he got was a stunned silence his smirk turned smug. Satisfied he more than proven how badass he was Puck was about to walk away when he felt a tug on his shirt. With a frown his eyes lowered to find her hands on his chest, pulling him back down towards her.
"You better shape up. 'Cause I need a man. And my heart is set on you," she returns, her voice humming in perfect harmony. He's not quite sure where the perfectly in sync 'doop, doop, doo' or music comes from. Isn't even given the chance to be confused over it before he's quickly distracted by her movements.
Just as suddenly as she pulled him forward he finds himself being pushed away. Then with a skip in her step and sway of the hips that he couldn't help but notice - thanks to her short as shit skirt - she walks around him, trailing a hand across his chest as she goes. She begins sashaying her way back towards where all the Glee freaks and Mr. Schuester were all intently watching them. Not missing a single beat she spins around, her eyes immediately finding his with a challenge he couldn't find it in himself to ignore - no way he was letting her win shit after questioning his badassness - as she sings, "You better shape up. You better understand. To my heart I must be true."
"Nothing left. Nothing left for me to do," he returns and doesn't even hesitates to close the distance between them.
"You're the one that I want," they sang together.
"The one that I want, ooo-ooo-ooo, honey," he hears more than one voice join in and upon looking past Berry sees that the rest of the freaks were singing along, varying degrees of surprise drawn across each of their faces. It was clear they didn't expect him to be any good either. Fuckers. The lot of them.
At the touch to his chest he looks down to find her teasingly running her fingers over him. He grins. When he looks up he sees her staring back at him all intense and shit he couldn't help but find it, her, kind of hot. Gone was the freak of a midget that talked too much, too fast and way too intensely all the damn time. In her place all he could see was a hot chick with a smokin' body and a sexy as fuck voice intent on teasing the shit out of him through song. If he didn't know any better he would think this was like some weird form of foreplay for her. And fuck if he wasn't willing to play. Crazy or not it didn't change the fact that she was fucking hot. Smirking he places his hands on her hips and doesn't even protest as she makes him rock backwards and forwards like in the movie with her arms around his neck. As gay as the dancing was there was nothing gay about the way her chest would rub up against his or the brush of their hips when he would every so often find himself moving purposely off the beat.
When the chorus ends she stops moving, her lips tilting ever so slightly up into a teasing grin.
"If you're filled. With affection. You're too shy to convey. Better take my direction," she continues, slipping her hands from his shoulders and running it down his body. Eyes never leaving his she lowers her voice and huskily sings, "Feel your way."
Fuck. Now that right there. Instant boner.
With a smirk of her own she begins to pull away.
"I better shape up. 'Cause you need a man," he sings and nearly growls as she sings the next lines.
"I need a man. Who can keep me satisfied."
At the clear teasing in her tone Puck's hands leave her hips to snake around her waist, bringing her even closer. "I better shape up. If I'm gonna prove."
As her body presses up against his she automatically brings up a hand to brace herself against his chest and in spite of her clear surprise - evidenced by the little hitch in her breath - she still manages to perfectly belt out, "You better prove. That my faith is justified."
"Are you sure," he returns, pulling her closer.
In spite of her discomfit she returns right on cue, "Yes I'm sure down deep inside."
Never once breaking eye contact they continue to sing along with the rest of the freaks. Neither moving even as silence descended as the last notes of the song finished playing. So quickly he wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been so aware of her every move, every breath, she lowered her eyes. Her gaze lingering on his lips just long enough for him to notice before raising her gaze to meet his once more. She bites her lip. Definitely not a stranger to the clear invitation he could see in her eyes he leans down and was about to capture her lips -
"Wow, that was awesome guys," Mr. Schuester happily says.
With a shake of her head Berry immediately pushes away from him. In an instant the confident and sexy siren was gone, leaving behind the annoyance he was much more familiar with. Without even having to hear her say a word he could see the change. It was in the way she stood, the way she held herself. Like there was a permanent pole stuck up somewhere tight and deep - and not in the fun way.
"I guess I was a little hasty in my assessment of his capabilities," Berry reluctantly says.
"Don't front babe, I was badass," he snorts.
She gives him a less than impressed look. Like she hadn't been eye-fucking the shit out of him throughout the whole performance they just put on. He smirks back.
No doubt attempting to diffuse a possible argument from igniting Mr. Schuester quickly interjects, "While it was good there is definitely room for improvement. Let's give it another tr-"
"Look, this is all well and good but I'm not down with this background singing nonsense. I'm Beyonce. I ain't no Kelly Rowland," the black girl complains loudly.
In spite of his frown Mr. Schuester turns to her and assures, "Okay, look, Mercedes, it's just one song."
Before she could argue her skinny gay friend cuts off whatever protests she may have had by bluntly stating, "And it's the first time we've been kind of good."
Although far from happy she seems to concede his point because rather than arguing she turns to Puck.
"Okay, you're good white boy. I'll give you that. But you better bring it," she tells him sassily before announcing, "Let's run it again."
Smiling enthusiastically Mr. Schuester claps his hands and says, "Okay, come on guys. Let's start from the top."
This time when he looks to the peanut gallery that was all so eager to lynch him only a moment ago he finds himself faced with what looked like the beginnings of tentative acceptance. Suddenly not feeling so badass any more he returns to his seat and basically falls into it with a grunt of annoyance. Well so much for getting himself kicked out on the first day.
When Glee is finally over rather than immediately racing out and embracing his sweet, sweet freedom Puck finds himself lingering in the choir room. He watches as they filter out. Mr. Schuester is the first to go, giving them some lame ass excuse about being late or some shit like that before saying his goodbyes and rushing off. He notices the black chick and the gay one leaving together, chattering animatedly as they go, while the Asian chick stutters shyly as she walks beside Wheels. As they go they offer no more than a sparing farewell to their remaining Glee member. It was then he couldn't help but notice Berry's shoulders sagging at the clear dismissal. Clearly not realizing he was still there she lets out a sigh and after carefully placing a stack of paper - her fucking notes for today's rehearsal apparently - in a folder she stuffs it in the pink thing she wheels around with her. As she leans down with her back to him he tilts his head, his eyes trailing a path up her legs and to the line of her short, short skirt as it rides up every so slightly. He licks his lips at the quick flash of her panties and really can't help but wonder how it was possible for someone who was as close to midget height as one can get without actually being a midget could have legs like that, legs that seem like they just go on forever. It was like some kind of illusion or some shit because he didn't know how it can be real. Figuring the only way he was going to find out if those legs were as long as they seem was to run his hands up the length of them himself he gets up, slings his backpack over one shoulder and walks up to her.
"Sup Berry," he greets her.
Obviously startled she immediately straightens and with a frown gives her skirt a tug before asking, "Can I help you Noah?"
At that he frowns. Other than his ma and sister no one really calls him by his name. Not unless they want to get up close and personal with his guns. Not in the fun way either. Deciding to let it slide, at least this once, he ups the charm and replies, "So, I've got the place to myself until eight tonight. How 'bout it Berry, want to come over and help me work on my breath control? Maybe see how long I can go for 'fore I need to stop. I can definitely think of a few ways we can put it to the test."
From the look on her face it was clear she was less than impressed by his suggestion. She took a breath and then pinning him with those wide brown eyes of hers, said, "I know it's expected that the hot male lead, and me, the stunning young ingenue everybody roots for somehow find their way to each other and get together, but in this case I do not think it would be wise for me to get involved with someone so ill equipped to deal with my many idiosyncrasies."
Only registering one fact he smirked, "You think I'm hot?"
At the blush he could clearly see spreading across her face his smirk widened. Of course she does, he was a fucking grade A stud.
"Be that as it may, that does not negate the fact I do not believe you are bold enough to deal with the ups and downs of being with an admittedly high-maintenance girl such as myself," she informs him firmly.
Before either of them could say another word the beginnings of an overly sappy song he barely recognised sounded. As soon as she heard it she quickly gathered her things.
"That is my daddy, I need to go," she says as she begins making away towards the exit.
She stops at the door and turns back to give him a speculative look.
"While I am dubious about what your true intentions are in regards to your sudden decision to join Glee as loathed as I am to admit it Mr. Schue is right. We need a male vocal capable of keeping up with me and though you are still a little rough around the edges it does not take away from the fact that as raw as you are, you are still very talented. I should know, I'm very talented too," she says matter-of-factly. Like it wasn't even a question. Like she really believed he was as every bit as talented as she said. "So if you are serious about this, about Glee and helping us become the team we could be I will be more than willing to offer my services in helping you to improve your repertoire. With enough work I'm certain you can even achieve a high B."
With that said she offered a parting "Goodnight Noah" before flouncing away. As he watched her retreating back Puck tried his hardest to figure out what in the fuck just happened. Other than the fact she turned down a ride on the Puckerone Express he was having a hard time trying to translate the endless stream of words she kept throwing at him. Somewhere in there he was sure he she said something about being an idiot and him not being able to handle her crazy, which was fair enough, because really Rachel Berry was her own special brand of crazy, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel as if she was again questioning his badassness in her quick dismissal of him. Like if anyone can handle her crazy he was certain it was him.
Determinedly he mutters, "This is so not over Berry."
There was no question he was an easy lay. His conquests, both in and out of school were the stuff of legends. Everybody knew he was the biggest stud in town. What was not as well known was that as much as he enjoyed being laid Puck enjoyed the chase just as much. It made his eventual success, and make no doubt he will succeed, all the more sweeter. Since there was no getting out of Glee without risking juvie he was suddenly eager to make the most of it. Besides he was sure both the good Lord and his ma would definitely approve of him getting into Rachel Berry's pants. If he had to get it on with anyone they would want him to get it on with a hot Jewish girl. It would definitely make his ma happy and considering all the shit he has put her through it was the least he could do for her. At least it was something to keep him occupied while he tried to find a way out of loserville central.333