Author's Note: You guys and all your feedback is amazing; I really love hearing what you guys think is going to happen (or just hearing about what you think of what has happened). As promised, there is some direct Puckleberry interaction in this chapter - and a lot next chapter. :)
Thanks for reading (and please review)!
Puck collapsed onto the couch sitting inside his office, immediately using the crook of his elbow to cover his eyes from the bright lights shining above. "Whoever made the rule that morning shows need to start before fuckin' dawn was a real dick."
Sam rolled his eyes, not bothering to answer his friend. It wouldn't be worth it to explain that it wasn't all morning shows, nor would there be any point into mentioning that they should be grateful that anyone cared what Sam had to say at this particular juncture of his career. They'd had the discussion almost every time Sam had to do one of the early shows, and clearly his rebuttal hadn't made much of an impact the first dozen times. Plus, he was tired, too.
"I might need to pull a Rachel and have yet another cup of coffee."
Puck scoffed. "That chicks needs caffeine like an addict needs another lighter."
Sam chuckled at his friend's observation, moving around the room to sit behind Puck's desk. Checking the time, he felt a little more exhausted than he had before. It was only eleven and he'd already been awake for seven hours. The morning show'd had a nice spread out that Sam had taken advantage of when they got there and once more before leaving, but he was starving again. He needed a large coffee and a larger sandwich.
"Do you want anything from Big Al's?" Sam stood, closing the email system he'd opened on Puck's computer. "Rach is going to be here around lunchtime, so I figured I should eat now."
"Don't blame Berry for the fat kid living inside you." Puck smirked, finally moving his arm away from his face. His eyes squinted while they adjusted to the light, Puck hinging off the furniture slowly. "Grab me a number four. We can eat it in the studio."
Sam nodded, the two walking out of the office and parting ways at the next hallway, Puck toward the music room with his guitar and Sam toward the lobby with his wallet. He was already debating between ordering one sub or two despite being at least two blocks away from the deli-style restaurant. The good thing about it being early was that he wouldn't have to wait long to order. At least that's what he thought before noticing his fake girlfriend walking toward him.
"Rachel!" Sam waved, trying to get her attention before she passed him completely. "Hey!"
"Sam." She pulled out the one headphone that had been in her ear, smiling brightly at him. "I was just on my way to the studio." Then, in an instant, she frowned. "We did plan to meet this afternoon, yes?"
"No, yeah." Sam nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I'm just grabbin' some food beforehand. Big Al's. You want something?"
"No, thank you. I had a brunch meeting, which ended early and has now caused me to inconvenience you and your schedule."
Sam laughed. "It's no big deal, you know, assuming you don't mind me eating in front of you."
"Of course not." Rachel smiled, then looked in the direction his body was facing. "Is it far?"
"Not really."
Sam knew why she'd asked. She was going to join him, which wasn't exactly unwelcome. Their fake relationship aside, Sam enjoyed Rachel's company. She was really easy to talk to, and that had actually surprised him. She was so smart and so determined, but she was really down to earth. She wasn't caught up in herself like most women in the music industry. It was refreshing, but he obviously wasn't the only one who thought so.
Sam had been with Puck most of yesterday and all this morning, and despite his friend's best efforts, the topic of Rachel couldn't be avoided forever. They were, however, still guys, so the conversation didn't stem much past Sam learning that Puck had slept with her and was now in a fake relationship with Santana as a result. The last part, in fact, was what they'd more focused on, since Sam was curious if even a fake relationship might mean she would be open to a real one. With him.
"But it might take awhile. I've booked the same sound room we were in last time. Why don't you get everything ready," he gestured to the large bag that was slung over her shoulder. When they last spoke, she'd mentioned bringing some sheet music and samplings with her the next time. "I'll come back and can eat while we work."
Rachel agreed with a nod, accepting his kiss on the cheek before the two parted ways, her steps back to syncing with the heavy rhythm of the song playing from her smartphone. The receptionist in the lobby greeted her with a smile, and Rachel merely smiled back before walking down the hallway toward the studio room. Her steps slowed as her memory of which particular room her and Sam had last occupied wasn't as sharp as she'd thought. She turned off her music and started peeking through the small windows as she neared the end of the row. None were empty, but near the end she saw one very familiar occupant.
Noah was sitting on a stool in the room, strumming his guitar and moving gently to whatever he was playing. The rooms were soundproof and he had his back to the door, but Rachel could not only tell he was playing something, but by the way his muscles were moving at the back of his neck, she knew he was singing, too. And she wanted to respect his privacy, but a larger part of her was too curious about what he was singing and how he was singing to not quietly open the door and sneak inside without him noticing.
The second the door cracked open, the sound of his beautiful voice filtered over her. She rested heavily against the inside of the door, her knees buckling a little as she just soaked in the sound of his voice. Rachel's ear was trained to hone out even the slightest off-key note, but she had yet to hear one. Much like his skills on the guitar, his voice was smooth, flawless even at a much higher register than she would have expected. And then, when the song changed tempo, it instantly changed turned rough and low. He sounded almost raspy, completely sexy.
"Guess who?" Rachel questioned quietly after she'd walked closer and used her hands to playfully cover his eyes.
Puck immediately stopped playing, practically jumping off the stool and turning around. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough to be thorough impressed by your skills … again," she added flirtatiously. "Is that an original piece? I've never …"
"I was just messin' around."
Rachel furrowed her eyebrows at the way he distanced himself from her, setting his guitar in the far corner of the room as if he was trying to hide its existence. "I-I'm sorry if … if I intruded." She bowed her head, embarrassed. She'd been thinking about their time together since he'd left early Sunday morning, and now it had been more than two days since she'd seen him and she'd missed him. From their text exchange during her lunch the other day, she thought he might have felt the same way, but his attitude suggested otherwise. "Please tell Sam I went to wait in your office."
Puck's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white as he fought with himself on what to do. He knew the difference between right and wrong, but this situation was somewhere between black and white and he'd never been good in the gray area. But, considering she looked like he'd punched her in the heart and he kind of hated it, he supposed it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to make her feel better. Or at least make her stay.
"Wait here." His voice was harsher than he meant it to be, so he tried again. "I mean, I'll wait with you. I was done anyway."
Rachel hesitated by the door, searching his face in the distance. His words told her to stay, but she wasn't sure if he was doing it as Sam's manager or because he genuinely felt bad for snapping at her. She knew he wasn't entirely at fault considering she'd invaded his privacy, however, so she accepted his somewhat-apology and walked back more into the room.
"For what it's worth, you sounded lovely."
Puck scoffed. "Like I'm going to believe you." He winked, the gesture relieving some of the tension he still felt after being caught by her. "I know you have a thing for musicians."
"I have a thing for talented musicians," she clarified with a slight smile. She liked that he was the first to mention something from their night together. Maybe she wasn't the only one who couldn't stop thinking about it, after all. "Your voice is impeccable. In fact …"
"Get you wet?"
Rachel's open mouth gaped for a moment, then shut as quickly as her eyes narrowed. He'd been busying himself at the sound table on the opposite side of the room, clearly avoiding her. Then, when she'd tried to compliment him again, he'd brushed it off with a lewd comment. Considering she'd seen a slightly softer side of him, she knew that behavior was his defense mechanism. The question was, why was he defensive?
"Maybe."
Puck's head shot up, his eyes widening as he watched her saunter closer and closer to him. The pads of her middle fingers touched the bare skin of his wrists, trailing up his forearms and over the sleeves of his T-shirt before dipping down around the collar until both her hands rest flat against his chest. Her stare was intense, the fire from her touch nothing compared to the blaze of her dark, melted chocolate orbs. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her agonizingly close even though she leaned back to keep her eyes trained on his.
"Maybe I can't stop thinking about how talented those fingers are even without a guitar in your hand, or how your voice feels whispered against my neck."
Rachel let her hands wander over his body, her touch slow and methodical. She'd wanted to push him to the point where he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else but sex so she could get his guard down, but she hadn't accounted for her own defenses dropping. She could feel his abs clench in response to her proximity, could feel other parts of his body react to her, too. The heat between them was palpable, causing her skin to flush with arousal.
"Or, maybe," she panted, trying to get the words out before her brain completely melted. His hands had moved from gripping her hips tightly to cradling her ass, holding the taut flesh possessively as his lips moved to her neck. She whimpered a little, forcing out, "Maybe I believe in you a little more than you believe in yourself."
The sound that escaped from low in Puck's throat was beyond primitive, his lips detaching from her neck only to fuse to her mouth a millisecond later. His tongue immediately sought (and was granted) access to her mouth, Puck swallowing Rachel's own primal sound. Her hands fell from his chest, gripping the sides of his shirt like a lifeline while his arms' hold around her tightened so much that it grew even harder to breathe. Parting on a sharp inhale, the two just stared at one another as their heavy breathing mixed between them.
Puck wasn't sure why he'd had the reaction he did. Plenty of other girls had tried to compliment him for one thing or another in his life, but he'd always ignored them. For all the Mars versus Venus bullshit, men weren't the only ones to say anything to get someone into bed. And at basically shoulder-height and weighing no more than a buck-twenty, Rachel should be as easy to brush off as any other woman. But she wasn't. She was a spitfire, full of ambition and righteousness and she made it impossible to think anything she'd said wasn't true.
Even if he'd lived the evidence to the contrary.
"Is Satan back yet?" He finally asked, his breathing slowly returning to normal but still coming out rather heavily.
Rachel hummed in the affirmative. "Late last night."
Puck nodded, kissing her once more before pulling away completely. He swore he saw her shiver from the loss of contact, and he had to remind himself that Sam was going to return any second. Otherwise, he'd pick the nearest flat surface and turn that frown upside down. "We'll finish this later." He didn't mean to growl, but her hands were running over her body to ensure everything was in the proper spot and it was driving him crazy. "I'll bring Sam so those two can hang out."
"Is that code for hook up?"
"Guess that depends on your friend." He grinned.
"Then, yes." Rachel's small smile started to fade, her hands wringing in front of her in nervousness. With her body still buzzing from their short albeit passionate interlude, she whispered, "Just … come early, okay?"
Their eyes met in a heated exchange, and the only thing that stopped each of them from propelling toward the other was Sam walking into the room. Hesitantly, the two simultaneously looked away from each other, honing in on the blond. He was carrying enough food for a small army and looked like he'd swallowed a hanger as he presented his cell phone out toward Rachel.
"Wow," Rachel remarked, grabbing the small handheld device to hold it closer. She used her index finger and thumb to zoom in on the picture as best she could. "That was fast."
"What is it?"
"Us," Sam answered Puck, throwing him a sandwich from the bag. "I ran into Rach on the way to Big Al's and I kissed her on the cheek before I left. Pic's totally going viral." Sam's smile spread even wider. "Hashtag cutest couple ever."
Puck fingers wrapped a little tighter around the sandwich, his feet moving him closer to Rachel to inspect the picture she was still looking at. It was kind of fuzzy and clearly taken on a camera phone, but there was no question; Sam was kissing Rachel. And he knew that the attention it was getting was a good thing, and this was all part of the plan - and Rachel's tongue had just been down his throat - but fuck that noise.
"So, you're kissin' now."
Rachel handed Sam back his phone, blinking a little as she took in Puck's hard expression. She could hear the snap in his voice, though she couldn't quite pinpoint its origin. "We are dating."
"Yea, whatever. I know." He stalked away from the pair, ripping open his sandwich and stuffing a large bite into his mouth. With the food half-chewed, he said, "I just didn't know you were kissing."
Both Rachel and Sam watched Puck closely. They listened to him try to take the lift out of his voice, failing miserably with his mouth full or not. Somewhere between his patronizing remark about Rachel and Sam being good at improvisation and wondering whether or not there was anything else he of her manager should be made aware of before it appeared in the press, Sam tried to explain the situation. Rachel, on the other hand, sat back a little and basked at Puck's clear display of jealousy. He'd already proved to her that he wanted her, but wanting claim on her, though possessive, was just as exhilarating.
"I have an idea," she interjected, interrupting Noah's snarky comment about Sam needing to work out more than just lifting heavy sandwiches into his face. "Why don't you boys finish your lunch, and then we can all go back to my place to work on the duet or …" She trailed off, looking at Noah pointedly. "Hang out."
"I'm down," Sam said immediately, looking to Puck eagerly.
Puck, however, looked only at Rachel. His dick was telling him to go, but his brain was saying to back out. Jealousy was a dangerous emotion, too many connotations going along with it. Their relationship wasn't a one-night stand, but it also wasn't meant to be anything serious. Wanting to use the plastic bag from Big Al's to suffocate his best friend just for a platonic kiss on the cheek was pretty serious, though. Unfortunately, with her gaze so confident and so hot, Puck found himself agreeing, too.
Like he'd said. She was impossible to ignore.
