This took forever to get up and I apologize. I'm mainly writing this fic for myself because it's been in my head forever. I hope you all enjoy it. It's more nerve wracking than I remember this being. This story will take some interesting turns so let's have some fun. :)
"Sound check sounded sick, guys!" Artie fell down on the couch lazily and kicked his feet up on the coffee table.
"Sick? What is this? The 90s?" Santana scoffed and took a seat next to him, "How did we even get this gig anyway? Did one of you whip it out or something?"
Sam who was fiddling with his guitar snorted at his band mates and shrugged. "Ask the fearless leader that one. I wouldn't put it past him though."
Puck leaned against the door frame and downed the rest of his beer in one easy swig. He tossed the can to the garage can and didn't bother to pick it up when it bounced of the edge. It just kept the others on the floor company. "I know the daughter of the owner. She put in a good word."
"Like how you put your dick in her?" Santana smirked and fell back into the couch, already knowing his answer.
Already at the fridge of another beer, Puck turned around and shared a smirk with his friend. "Exactly."
Artie looked impressed and Sam shook his head at the other two, "And you don't even have a STD. You should get an award. 'Noah Puckerman: the world's safest man slut."
Puck took a bow. "I'd like to thank my ma for teaching me to wrap it before I tap it." Santana cupped her hands around her mouth to boo him while Sam and Artie applauded with laughter at his actions. "Now would any of you want another one?"
The three nodded but Puck closed the fridge door only getting himself one. "You know where they are." Dropping to his recliner, he pulled the lever to kick up the foot rest.
"Hey San. Get me a beer," Artie gestured to the fridge with his head.
"Do I look like a fucking housewife? Get one yourself. Maybe you assholes could treat me like a lady and get me a beer. How about it, Trouty?"
Sam looked across the coffee table from where he sat on the floor and frowned. "We've seen your boobs. We know you're a lady...or a really convincing trannie..." He stopped momentarily to consider it before continuing, "But I'm not getting up either." Santana crossed her arms on her chest with a huff.
"You all are useless. I'll get you all a damn beer, you lazy asses." Puck groaned and opened the fridge again as if it was a straining task to retrieve three more. "Heads up," he called and ready to start throwing the cans to his band mates.
Artie basically had to dive to get his but successfully caught it. The toss to Santana was a bit more gentle and she tipped her can to him before opening it. Sam missed his completely. It crashed to the ground and receive a dent in the side. Not thinking about it, Sam opened the can only to have it explode all over him. "Fuck..."
"Should have got me a beer..." Santana mumbled as she raised the beer to her lips.
~xxxxxxxxxx~
"Are you sure you'll be okay? I can stay if you want," Quinn put the rest of the cookies in a bag to be marked down the next day as her and Marley started to close up the bakery.
"Quinn, I'll be fine. I've closed by myself before. Blaine's picking me up so I won't be alone outside either. I'll be perfectly fine," Marley reassured Quinn once more and sighed when Quinn was still helping and not leaving. "Rachel is going to kill you if you're not home to get ready. You're my favourite cousin. I don't want you to be killed." Marley gave Quinn a gentle push towards the door. Grabbing her purse and coat, she handed them to Quinn with a small smile. "Go..."
Her eyes darted around the bakery to make sure everything almost done for Marley. She put on her coat slowly, not wanting to leave. She wanted to go out with Rachel and Brittany but then again, she didn't. She didn't want to be a shut in nor did she want to go back on her word after she already said she'd go. "So are you sure Blaine is picking you up? I don't want you leaving alone," she softly smiled at her cousin. Marley was nineteen and more than capable of taking care of herself but Quinn still worried about her. The memories of a little Marley following her around in childhood still plagued her and she remained with that vision of Marley in her mind always.
"Go, Quinn," Marley laughed and gave Quinn another push. "Everything will be fine here. I only have an hour left." Quinn nodded and finally left the store to catch a taxi home. Even though she may have looked back five times thinking if there was anything she didn't do in the bakery yet.
~xxxxxxxxxx~
"Quinn! Where were you? Britt and I are already ready," Rachel dramatically exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air to further how she was feeling.
Brittany was eating Cheetos on the couch. Despite having cheese dust all over her lips and fingers, she still looked gorgeous in her simple jeans, t-shirt and heels outfit. Of course, she had her leg warmers on her arms. Rachel tried to explain that they weren't for her arms but grew frustrated quickly at Brittany and gave up. "Hey Q," she waved, sprinkling cheese powder around as if it was fairy dust.
"Hey Britt. Rachel, I was just helping close. I'll be ready soon. I promise. We don't have to even be there for a while. The band goes on at nine. Relax," she attempted to talk Rachel down and turned away to scurry off to the basement door before Rachel could add anything else.
Quinn took her time getting ready and spent much of her time laying on her bed. Grasping the energy to walk to her closet, she grabbed a simple a-line dress and cardigan. She wasn't sure if the dress code for seeing a rock band. She didn't have anyone to impress and she didn't care to either. Rachel was over the top in her leather jacket and ripped jeans, Brittany was simple yet pretty and Quinn wore her typical outfit to simply be herself.
She wasn't aware of how truly out-of-place she was until she entered the club. She was easily the person who looked the most dressed up. Most people with casual but decently put together. There were the obvious people there curious about the band, people like Rachel trying to fit in, people like Brittany who easily blended in to the club atmosphere and then there was Quinn who stood out as if as spotlight was being shun directly on her.
Brittany came to their table with three pints that she thankfully didn't spill. "This band is Brass Monkey? I wonder if they actually have a monkey in their band."
"No. I'm pretty sure that's illegal," Rachel took a moment to think about it and sipped her drink.
"They're probably not any good. I mean...it was fifteen dollars to get in here. They're not that great," Quinn glanced around and fixated her eyes at the stage, curious enough about this band.
"Well if they have a monkey in their band, they better be amazing," Brittany grinned and gulped down half her pint in sheer excitement.
"Britt...there is no monkey."
~xxxxxxxxxx~
The green room was more so a room with a lumpy couch, a couple of beers and some bags of potato chips. There was no smell like something died in there like last time. And It was far better than what they had before. Sam and Artie were awkwardly both spread out on the couch. Santana stated that it was just mildly homosexual. Puck was tuning his guitar and downing a beer to prepare.
"You bitches ready to rock this place," Santana twirled her drum sticks between her fingers and peeked out the door to see the club. "It's not going to take much though. So Artie, you don't have to try. It's not like you ever do anything."
"Um...rude.." Artie said, his normal amount of sass as present as ever.
"Give me a minute," Puck chugged the rest of the drink and set the bottle on the ground with a loud bang. "How are prospects tonight, San?"
Santana's eyes looked around the people in the club. There was at least seventy but only twenty were only for them...if that. "Enough here for you to easily get, Puckerman. Are you looking for something to have here or something for takeout or..."
"Takeout only tonight, babe." Puck smirked smugly and flung his guitar around his body to rest on his back.
The Latina snorted at their wording and peered out. "Do you want someone easy or a challenge?" She was mentally narrowing down her choice but she already had someone in mind. There was a blonde standing with her friends wearing a girly dress and a stupid looking cardigan. Whether she made the wrong turn and came here ending to church, Santana would never know.
"A challenge? Really? Nothing is a challenge for me, " he raked his hands through his mohawk and winked at the guys. Sam and Artie didn't say anything but they knew how much of a lady-killer Puck was.
"Nothing? Really? Okay. Fuck the girl in the yellow cardigan then." Santana suggested. She turned to look at Puck, gesturing for him to look at his target this evening. The thought of him trying to get this girl to sleep with him amused her far too much.
Puck approached Santana and looked out to the crowd and spotted the girl immediately. She didn't seem overly thrilled about being there and her friends were speaking with each other. She had blonde hair and was decently pretty. Prettier if she would actually smile and didn't look like a frigid bitch. The typical good girl stereotype and Puck could see the appeal. "Consider her fucked."
"She looks nice though," Sam said suddenly from behind them causing both Santana and Puck to jump.
"I know from my boo that the nice ones are freaks though," Artie grinned to himself and walked up to the rest of them, "So are we going to get this show on or are you guys going to continue to objectify girls for Puck?"
"I can objectify on stage. Let's go," Puck walked out on stage without another word and the other three followed quickly behind.
~xxxxxxxxxx~
"We're Brass Monkey," a male voice echoed through the club before the drummer counted the band into a rather loud song. The moderately filled club either began bobbing their heads to the beat or ignoring the band all together as they drank and talked with friends. Quinn sipped on her drink and glanced up at the stage. The band wasn't so bad after all.
"There is no monkey..." Brittany mumbled sadly. Quinn patted her back to console her friend over something that never was there. No monkey but there was a blonde haired man, one with brown hair and glasses and one with a mohawk plus the Latina drummer pounding away on the drums.
Her eyes jumped from band member to band member before landing on the lead singer with the mohawk. She hated to admit that he had a good voice. She caught herself smiling stupidly while watching him perform. There was so much passion in the way he was playing and emotion in his voice as he sang. She could understand that. She felt the same as she baked. If you loved doing something, it showed and it certainly showed for the man who later introduced himself as Puck to the audience. The small trance he held over her broke as soon as their eyes met and he winked at her. Quinn quickly looked away and jumped into the conversation Rachel and Brittany were having instead. They were talking about Broadway as usual. Rachel was the star and Brittany was a featured dancer or ensemble member for many musicals. Quinn interjected when she could but she didn't have much to add. She simply listened and nodded when appropriate while finishing off her first pint of beer.
Quinn's attention went in and out of the performance. Puck remained fixated on the blonde determined not to make eye contact with him again. He could see her foot tap momentarily, her head bob to the beat and a small smile play on her lips time to time again. This might be easier than he thought it would be. She obviously liked what she saw and Puck wasn't afraid to admit that he knew he was attractive and knew theladies liked him. If Blondie wanted to play hard to get, game on.
Brass Monkey went on to play a couple more songs before Puck spoke again in a loll between songs. The audience grew a bit more attentive as they played but presumably not as much as they would have liked. "This next song is cover of a cover," he explained before looking over to Quinn stood. "This goes out to the gorgeous blonde in the yellow cardigan." He winked at her again when she glanced up recognizing he meant her. Her face turned a shade of red. Rachel looked back and forth between them, trying to piece together what was going on. Puck raked his hands through his mohawk and smirked; this was far too easy.
Looking back to Santana, she rolled her eyes at Puck and began her drum intro before the band kicked into full gear for their cover of the Arctic Monkeys' version of 'Hold On, We're Going Home'. Brittany immediately started swaying and dancing to the song...dancing well but very broadly for the crowd they were in. Rachel was still looking between the lead singer and Quinn. She could tell where the mohawkedman's mind was. Quinn's eyebrows rose at the dedication and song choice. Yet by the time the first chorus finished, she found herself swaying to the song as well. Rachel swore she saw a smile grace her friend's lips. Like anyone, Rachel could be entranced by a good vocalist and song but usually that was only reserved for Barbra Streisand. Maybe Quinn was finally letting go like Rachel always had insisted she did or maybe her best friend was actually interested in this guy who seemed the furthest from her type as possible. Rachel wrinkled her nose as he licked his lips, looking at Quinn as if she were something to eat. It made her uncomfortable but the two blondes she was with were far too into the song to notice. This Puck guy was like a pied piper luring pretty girls back to his bed and she'd be damned if Quinn was dragged into this.
By the time Puck sang the last line of the song, he was certain he had the blonde ready to throw herself at him. He knew a lot of the girls in the club were more than ready to or already had. He smirked, glancing around vaguely remembering some of the girls. But tonight was all about Blondie and how to make her his. And so far the plan albeit very simple was working. Brass Monkey continued their set with original songs and the small audience seemingly liked it well enough. They had played for small crowds before but if the right person is in the club, it could change the band's path forever.
~xxxxxxxxxx~
"They weren't bad," Quinn commented with a shrug and took a sip of her second drink that evening.
"The lead singer kept looking at you, Quinn. Do you know him?" Brittany distracted herself with her drink, swirling around the liquid so fast that it almost spilled out of her glass.
Rachel fidgeted in her seat and already knew the answer. Of course, Quinn didn't know him. He was not the guy she would associate with at all. She watched Quinn shake her head as she expected and smiled. "Maybe we should go. It's getting pretty late."
"Rachel...it's eleven. I know you're married with a kid but you're not an old lady. You don't have a cane," Brittany drank some of her beer and placed it loudly back on the table unintentionally, "I'm young and I want to make out with someone! Whose with me?"
It didn't take that long Brittany's loud announcement for her to get another drink at the bar and begin talking to the drummer of the band. Neither Rachel or Quinn quite understood where Brittany stood on the Kinsey scale but they didn't bother to question it. Whether she was with a guy or a girl, it only matter that she was safe. "Britt is very direct," Quinn snorted at the obvious flirting happening between the two girls.
"She's something..." Rachel retorted with a small laugh.
Quinn noted Rachel's eyes travelling to her phone as they had been allnight. "Rachel, you can check your phone. Rosie and Finn are fine though." The brunette latched on to the opportunity and had her phone in hand before Quinn could blink. Quinn gazed around the club which was now filled with chatter and glasses clanging together. Sipping on her beer, she wondered how much long she'd have to stay here. Brittany was already gone, probably with the drummer. Rachel, who had already been a loudtexter to begin with, was hurriedly texting who Quinn could only assume was Finn.
A throat cleared behind her, begging for attention. Rachel hadn't noticed but Quinn turned around sharply to find the lead singer of the band behind her.
"Hey gorgeous. I was wondering if I could buy you a drink?" His smile was nice enough. The smugness was still there so Quinn ruled out that it was simply an onstage persona. Not giving an immediate answer right away, he chuckled, "I know I'm handsome and talented. No need to stare. I just wanted to talk to you."
"No, I was just wondering how you actually thought that would work. There are plenty of other girls in here way more interested," she brushed him off and glanced to Rachel who was still texting barely noticing the man near them.
Puck nodded, knowing her words were true but his determination was kicking in. He could get to this girl somehow. "So you didn't like the song? It seems like you did. Come on, Blondie. One drink."
Quinn gave in, hoping that he would leave her along if she complied momentarily. "Fine...I'll take another beer." A toothy grin appeared on his face and he walked over to the bar to get her request. Returning with three beers, he gave one to Quinn and held the other two. "Figured your friend might want another one," he said. Being nice to her friend would help him in the long run.
Rachel only seemed to notice him then and was taken back by him standing beside them and not on stage. Redirecting her attention to Quinn, she exhaled slowly. "I have to go. Finn thinks Rosie has a cold and doesn't know what to do. You want to go?" She eyed Puck and almost reached out to pull Quinn away from him.
"No. I'll find a way home. You're always telling me I need to get out more," Quinn shrugged and completely missed Puck's smirk. Rachel didn't however but didn't want to argue with Quinn.
"Okay. Be safe. I'll see you later." She gave Quinn a hug and rushed out of the club, leaving Quinn along with Puck.
"So what do you do?" Puck asked, politely enough. He took a gulp of beer and awaited her answer.
Quinn sipped more delicately on her bottle. "I own a bakery. It's called Quinn's Cakes but I make basically everything."
"I might have to check that out. If you're as good of a baker as you are beautiful, I'm sure it will be the best thing I've ever had." His game was smooth. Countless nights were spent like this. He had an anagram he was waiting to patent on his strategy. FUCK (Flatter, Use Charm, Kiss) always lead to what it spelt...fucking. Quinn's cheek turned red slightly at his compliment and he mentally checked out Flatter.
"Um. Sure. What do you like?" Quinn enquired.
"You but I assume you're talking about baked goods," He smirked at her and took a sip of one of the beers in his hand.
Quinn arched an eyebrow at him and snorted at him. "Is this what you do? Flirt with girls and buy them drinks so they will sleep with you?"
"No, babe. It's just you." He frowned when she scoffed at him and they both took a swig at the same time to fill the silence. "So the brunette ran out of here and the other blonde is making out with the drummer in my band. Where does that leave you?"
"Standing here talking to you. This strange man who is in a band named after a Beastie Boys song." Quinn looked away from him and took a gulp.
Puck studied her for a moment and hadn't pegged her as a Beastie Boys fan. Definitely a fan of someone like Katy Perry but the boys? "You know the Beastie Boys?"
"Am I not allow to know of them?" She narrowed her eyes, not enjoying whatever preconceived notion he had of her.
"N-no," he corrected himself, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, "I'm just shocked. It's pretty hot that you know who they are actually."
Quinn hummed her response and finished off her beer rather quickly. "What else do you do besides play in the band?"
"That's it."
"That's it?"
"Yup," Puck grinned at her and offered her the second bottle which she declined. "I have a lot of faith in Brass Monkey. Put all my effort into it."
"You guys are pretty good. Who knows?" She wasn't completely lying but she knew the chances of making it in the entertainment business was slim. Rachel was a shining example of what it took.
Puck downed the rest of his beer and took Quinn's empty bottle from her to place them on the nearest table. "You want anything else to drink?" Her eyebrow arched at him, making him feel equally turned on as he was slightly frightened what his girl could potentially do to him. "Not trying to get you drunk, I promise. We're at a club. People chat. They drink. We're doing both. We should do shots!"
She snorted at his enthusiasm and allowed for him to pull her over to the bar by her wrist. "I'm not doing shots. I'll happily watch you get stupidly drunk but I'm not doing anything."
"Come on. So you're saying if I bought a couple, you wouldn't have any?" He leaned against the bar causally, his eyes fully taking her in. She was maybe one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen. He'd most certainly seen bigger boobs though but you win some, you lose some. Her modest outfit left a lot to the imagination but he was more than happy to let his mind wonder what laid underneath her dress and yellow cardigan.
Quinn pressed her lips together and subconsciously started to pull on her cardigan. "That's what I'm saying."
"Here's my plan. For every shot you choose to take," he accented the word choose to make sure he wasn't pressuring her, "I'll take two." He watched her hesitate and sighed softly. "Trust me...Quinn," he was relieved to remember her name.
"One. I'll do one if that will make you shut up," she told him and waited for him to take action. Quinn wasn't sure what she expected from tonight but being with a lead singer of some obscure band getting drinks was not what she had in mind. She heard him order three Kamikazes and eyed the shot glasses as they filled with alcohol. She was never a big drinker other than a beer there and a glass of wine here.
Setting the other beer bottle in his hand on the bar, Puck gave one of the glasses to Quinn before taking his two with one in each hand. "You're not going to let me do these two alone, right? That would be mean. You don't seem like the mean type."
"I can be plenty mean," she spoke with a deadpan tone. "On the count of three." She raised the shot closer to her mouth and eyed him.
The two counted slowly down together. Puck grinned at her and she rolled her eyes in return. At the number one, he had downed both his while she tossed hers back with a cringe. He laughed as her nose crinkled and a sound of disgust escaped her. "It's not that bad, Blondie."
"It's strong," she coughed out only succeeding in amusing him more. She leaned against the bar and looked over at him. He barely looked phased by the two shots he had just done. "Are you even feeling it?"
"I had a buzz already so I'm feeling a little bit," Puck slide a little closer to her and smiled, "You feeling it, aren't you?" Quinn's non-response was enough of an answer for him. "You want another or do you want to talk more?"
"Is there another option?" Quinn looked forward and took to watch some of the other people in the club around them. Some were dancing. Some were flirting. One couple was going at it in the back corner.
"We could make out," Puck's eyes seemed to find the same couple she did.
Quinn's head shot to Puck and she scoffed at his suggestion. "I'm going to need a lot more alcohol to do that." She could actually see the wheels start to turn in his head once she spoke and she sighed, "I don't know what you think is going to happen tonight but you have the wrong girl."
"I know you're not one of those girls. Blondie, you're more covered than most of the guys in here. That girl," It took him a second to find a girl who had eyed him on stage before, "would be all over me."
"Why aren't you over talking to her then?" Quinn's arms were now crossed against her chest.
"I'd rather be talking to you. I thought I've already made that clear. You want another drink?," He motioned over to his band mate Artie with his girlfriend, "Look...I'm not trying to take advantage of you. Just trying to have some fun. My boy Artie will make sure you get a cab home. He's the responsible one with that sort of thing." Artie waved over to them with a confused expression on his face.
Quinn exhaled and began to shrug off her cardigan. She was always told she never let loose...never took the time to just have fun. Her mind was always so wrapped up in her bakery and then before school that she didn't have time to party or whatever else people did her age. Always with Finn and Rachel, it didn't exactly help as with a child their life wasn't very typical either. She was sick of being told she was boring and most of all, uptight. Getting drunk with a guy in a band seemed reckless and stupid. Two things she would never calm to be ever. But tonight was different...she wanted to be different."Let's do this, Puck. By the way, what kind of name is Puck anyway?"
Feeling like a little kid at Christmas, he eagerly ordered six more shots to prepare them. He knew that girls went for the bad boy façade. Santana had discussed game plans with him and they both seemingly had mastered both of theirs. "It's a nickname. Last name's Puckerman."
"I see. It's pretty stupid if you ask me," she told him bluntly, "I'm just Quinn."
"Well just Quinn, ready for round two?" He ignored her insult of his name, not wanting to start anything. He reminded himself to keep up his strategy. Bickering with his girl was not part of the plan.
Quinn tucked some of her stray hair behind her ear and sighed. She was already feeling the first one and was not sure how she'd be after the next. Like he wanted, she was reassured that he was taking one extra than her. She nodded hesitantly and reached for her next shot herself.
"Bottoms up, Blondie," Puck clinked one of his glasses with Quinn's and easily downed them both. Quinn managed hers a little better than the first time but not by much.
"Oh my gosh..." Quinn groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and setting her glass down with a loud clang.
"You alright there? I'm guessing you don't drink much."
"No. I'm an expert. Just trying to make you feel better about yourself." She leaned against the bar and took a breath, trying to steady the spinning room.
He snorted and stepped closer to her. He could definitely feel the alcohol coursing through him now. "Can I kiss you now or do you need another drink?" He smirked down at her and waited for her answer. "
The blonde looked up at him and attempted to figure out if he seemed more attractive than she remembered him being when she first saw him or if the alcohol was playing tricks on her. She tried to find a reason to say no besides the fact that she never did things like this. Her head cocked at him and she had to stop herself from listing pros and cons of kissing him in her head. "Okay," she barely mumbled out.
It took him a second to process that she had just said yes and another moment to maintain his composure from scanning the club for Santana to give her a thumbs up to say that it was on. His hand raised to graze her cheek and tangled itself in her hair. Rubbing her thumb on her cheekbone, he recognized that she was gorgeous and not in the way most of the girls he was with her. Her makeup was natural and her hair was simple. The complete opposite of his typical go to. Her hazel eyes set on him and widened expectantly. His lips pressed against hers quickly, scared she'd change her mind if given too much time.
Kissing a boy she had just met wasn't something one would associate with Quinn Fabray. But there she was...her back up against the bar with Puck kissing her as though his life depended on it. She pulled away to exhale. "There are three shots left. We shouldn't let those go to waste," she arched her eyebrow at him and snorted when he reached from them hurriedly. Downing her shot and putting it on the surface behind her, she was still impressed by how quickly and effortlessly Puck drank his. Whether was the alcohol, the sense of rebellion or the fact that Puck wasn't the worst looking man ever, Quinn found herself leaning in to capture his lips eagerly once again. Puck was certainly not complaining.
