Author's Note: Back and better than ever (I hope). Not much to say except for that I love this story but I love you guys more for loving it, too. This chapter is probably the first real M-rated one, so I'm throwing that out there again. Not for children. Got it? Awesome. Oh, and there was some concern that I was making a Quinn/Rachel friendship. I just want to say quickly that while I could see them being amicable with each other, I think a Quinn/Rachel friendship is almost as unlikely as Rachel/Santana friendship (pretty un-effing-believable). I'm doing my best to keep this as in character as I can (and hopefully you all agree), so that concern is mildy addressed in this chapter!
Now, please enjoy (and let me know what you think!).
Rachel used her left hand to block the sun from her eyes, watching the players run to their positions on the field. Coach Bieste's booming voice could be heard all the way from her spot on the edge of the left side, even over Artie, Brittany, Tina, and Santana, who were bad-talking basically every teacher at McKinley; it was common practice for the former Cheerios and came easily to any frustrated teenager itching for the weekend.
"I still don't get it!" She finally whined, dropping her hand down and turning away from the sun to face the four beside her. She was friends with Artie and more so with Brittany since those two had started dating, and she had nothing against Tina, but Rachel would never use the term of endearment to describe her and Santana's relationship. Things had been better between the two since after Regionals, though Rachel wasn't sure if it was because Sam was finally succeeding in taming the beast, or if it was a result of their win. Or, door number three, there was a chance it was a respect thing now that Rachel and Noah had been dating for longer than most expected. Santana wasn't one to openly express feelings outside of sex and her odd relationship with Brittany, but Rachel knew that she had a soft spot for Puck.
That affection went the other way, too, but Rachel tried not to focus on that too much. She'd only just gotten over her insecurities (or learned how to keep them well hidden) regarding Santana, and adding jealously to the already simmering pot wouldn't do any good. She trusted Puck whole heartedly, and actually understood how he and the Latina could be close friends. Despite her displeasure with the young woman, Santana and Puck were very similar.
"We all don't get what Puck sees in you, but we've learned to live with that mystery."
"What don't you get, Rach?" Artie asked, bypassing Santana's knee-jerk insult.
"I just barely understood football for that one evening. Now baseball? It doesn't make any sense!"
"I'm with Rachel. What do peanuts and Crackers Jacks have anything to do with whether or not you come back?"
There was a long pause that often followed anything Brittany ever said, then the shared look among those close to her that had heard. Like clockwork, they all nodded and immediately moved on, neglecting to give any real answer to the blonde's question, but sparing her feelings all the same.
"It's easy," Artie began, pointing toward the field. "Right now they are scrimmaging. So, the team is split up."
From Rachel's vantage point behind home plate, she wasn't sure why the coach was so upset, but all five of them cringed when she suddenly stormed the field. The players in the grass had clearly done something wrong, but Rachel wasn't exactly sure what. The person with the stick had hit the ball out toward them and even though no one caught it, the guy in the middle had thrown it back to Sam fairly quickly. It looked to be a long throw, so Rachel had actually been impressed. Coach Bieste was not of the same mindset.
"But they are a team. They shouldn't be divided like that!"
"It's like when we split into groups for glee. It makes them better."
"Right," Artie said, surprise in his tone that Santana had said something helpful and nice. "See, Sam is the pitcher."
"And captain," Santana added on a purr, tossing out a sexy smile toward the field even if there was no way Sam could actually see her. Then again, sex appeal dripped from her pores, so maybe it wafted in the air enough that he could sense it being pushed his way. He did seem to throw the ball quicker just now, which was apparently a good thing.
"And Finn plays first base."
Rachel noted her former flame, half-wondering why Quinn wasn't out here with all of them but then remembering that the blonde was in crazy prom campaign mode. Rachel honestly didn't think the two of them could be at odds any worse than when Rachel was going after Finn, but it seemed like the student body's interest in Rachel and Puck for queen and king turned Quinn even crazier. She could only see that sparkling tiara and didn't care who she had to step on to get it. Frankly, for once in her life, Rachel didn't want to be the center of attention. She was just so happy that Puck had gotten over his initial rebel phase and decided they should probably make an appearance at the event.
"Because he's so lean and long, they'll have an advantage of throwing runners out more than other teams."
"Especially with Mike playing third. Between the two of them, they almost have the infield closed off!" Tina chimed in supportively, swooning a little as she watched her boyfriend run through a play.
"Well what about Noah?" Rachel asked impatiently, pointing toward the field. "He's not standing on any of those white things. He's just in the middle there, and doing all the work, if you ask me!"
"He's shortstop, Rach." Artie sighed, wondering what he got himself into. It had been easier teaching geometry to Brittany. "Shortstop plays between those two bases and also acts as a backup for each. It's the perfect position for Puck because he's quick."
"Not in everything." This time Rachel didn't appreciate Santana's comment, scowling at the Latina in response. "Oh, calm down, Berry. You'll know what I mean soon enough."
Rachel huffed out a breath, resting her elbow against her knee and plopping her chin into her open palm. She watched with a glare as Coach Bieste ran through random scenarios, Rachel catching certain words but unable to piece anything substantial together. Artie, too, kept spitting out all sorts of sports jargon – like extra innings and ground-rule double – that didn't make any sense. By the time the practice was over, she was even more confused than when she had started trying to learn about the silly sport.
Basketball was easy. One team had to shoot in one hoop, and another team had to shoot in the other. The positions didn't really matter, and the opposing teams wore vastly different colors so she could tell the difference between them. During practice, half the boys played without their shirts on, and the games lasted for basically a set length of time. She missed basketball.
"What's with the face, babe?"
"You guys have been dating for like three months. You're just now noticing her face?" Santana joked, filing her nails as she waited for Sam to finish up in the locker room. Artie and Brittany had left with Tina and Mike, but Sam was a bit of a metrosexual. He was notorious for taking the longest in the showers, often the last one out after all his cleaning and grooming. Even the coach left before him. Honestly, it was only fair that Sam gave Kurt the benefit of the doubt when he'd thought he was gay.
"When is baseball done?"
"It is done. Let's go."
"No. I mean for good. The … season," she clarified, getting up off the bleachers and stepping in sync with Puck. He waved goodbye to Santana and switched his gym bag from his left side to his right, giving Rachel invitation to stand a little closer. "When is it done done?"
"It just started, babe." He chuckled, seeing her frown deepen. "Shit. I forgot my jersey. I need to clean it before the first game." He opened his car door and threw his bag in. "Come on. It won't take long."
He grabbed Rachel's hand and the two of them ran through the parking lot back toward the school. There was only one door that stayed open past four, and the two walked through it and toward the locker room on a sprint. Sam passed them in the hallway, looking like he'd just come from the salon instead of finishing an exhausting baseball practice. He did the same thing after glee practice, and Puck wondered just how much shampoo and soap that kid went through.
"While I don't want it to derail you from your actual academics, I think I might need a lesson on the rules of baseball. Artie tried to teach me again today, but I still don't feel like I grasp the concept."
"Do you need to learn the same way I do?" He asked while waggling his eyebrows, not even waiting for her likely offended remark before pushing through the locker room door and holding it open for her. "So, here it is. The boys' locker room."
"I've seen it before." Rachel scrunched her nose. "Smells the same."
"When have you been in here?" He asked curiously, walking over to the bench where his jersey was absently tossed under. When Rachel didn't respond, he turned and looked at her face, seeing the embarrassment as clear as day. Finn. Got it. He quickly bent down to grab the garment, busying his hands and his mind with the task.
"I know you've been in the girls' locker room before."
"Dozens on times."
She rolled her eyes but smiled at the genuine look of regret that flashed over his features. "Probably not something you should boast about to your current girlfriend."
"Noted," he answered with a grin, a whole different kind of distraction entering his mind. "But, speakin' of boasting, I happen to be an excellent tutor on the subject of baseball."
"Oh yeah?" She asked breathlessly, feeling his words just as much as she felt his arms encircle her waist. "Think you could teach me a thing or two?"
"Well, you already have the outfit to be the perfect little schoolgirl." He smirked, his grip on her hips loosening to toy with the fabric of her short skirt. Rachel bit her lip and he didn't even bother trying to hide his groan, instead pushing her gently against the lockers behind her. "Let's skip positions for the sake of my sanity and talk about the bases."
Rachel nodded absently at Puck, her breath ragged as he slipped out of his letterman's jacket and pressed himself into her. His fingers were trailing slowly up her arms and down her sides, and Rachel closed her eyes just to relish in the feel of him touching her. The effect was always an odd mix of a slow burning feeling and something that undoubtedly made her shiver. He'd always been a unique combination of fire and ice.
"You know first." He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers softly, letting her adjust to the sudden assault before deepening the kiss, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue against hers. She nipped at his bottom lip and he groaned, inwardly thinking she didn't just know first. She owed it. She was like the first base coach she was so damn good at it. "Next is second."
Rachel hiccupped when his right hand lifted from her hip to cup her breast, his thumb grazing over her nipple. The small bud immediately hardened under the attention, poking out through the thin shirt she wore. It wasn't enough, though, Rachel moving her hands off Puck's shoulders and removing the offending garment off her body. She reminded herself that they were in a semi-public place even if the likelihood of someone coming in was slim to none, but all thoughts of regretting her decision fluttered out as a low groan rumbled through Puck's throat. His mouth quickly moved to her neck, attacking the sensitive flesh before trailing down, sucking on the newly exposed skin.
Without his body grinding against hers, Rachel felt weak standing by the lockers, her hands reaching out to grab at his shirt. Puck, however, made no move to leave his bent down position, simply moving from one subtle mound to the other as his hands danced over the bare skin of her back. The only thing she managed to do was rid him of his shirt, which actually worked in her favor. The second her nails made contact with the flesh of his back, Puck stood upright, pushing her body back hard against the lockers.
"Back to first?" She mumbled into his kisses, gasping when he ground his hips into hers. His hands snaked behind her and undid the clasp of her bra, moving down her back then to her stomach before slowly creeping up to her bare chest. Rachel arched into him and then responded in kind, her hands taking the opposite path and instead falling down his chest and then his abdomen. She felt his muscles tense under her touch, her journey hitting the speed bump of the waistband on his gym shorts before he finally pulled away from her. "I like second."
"Me too." His voice actually cracked when Rachel's hand dipped inside his shorts, his head moving forward until hitting the locker with a loud clang. The pain didn't even register, though. The only thing he could feel were Rachel's tiny hands moving over his length, tentative but explorative. It had been a long time. Exclusivity was a new concept in Puck's world, one that made cold showers not such a new concept. But, shit, if he had to be with one chick, he was suddenly never more grateful that he picked Rachel. "Fuck, you're good."
Rachel beamed at the compliment, his encouragement making her more confident, bolder. She let her hands twist and pull, stroked him slowly and then quickly. She swiped her thumb across the tip and let one hand meander down to his testicles. She was touching everything she could and by the sounds he was making, she was doing it all right. At least she was until she suddenly felt Puck's hands creep under her skirt.
"Baseball isn't an individual sport, babe."
She shuddered at his words and the way he whispered them right into her ear. If he hadn't been so close, she might not have heard him over the echoing in her head. Her mind was screaming in pleasure, focused entirely on the feel of Puck's index finger tracing the line of her panties before curling inside the elastic. She gasped at the first bare contact, Puck's lips removed from her neck when she abruptly lifted onto her tiptoes.
Puck had gotten girls off before. More than once, and in many different venues. But this was different. With Rachel, touching her made him just as excited as it was obviously making her. And it wasn't even from what she was doing, which she had stopped at the beginning but had started up again once she got used to the feel of his hand on her most private area. She had lost the power she no doubt was enjoying, but she still had a lot of control in those tiny hands of hers. For every plunge of Puck's finger into her, Rachel countered with a stroke of her own. For every swipe of his thumb across her clit, she swiped her thumb over his own sensitive tip. No, what she was doing was great, but it was the way she reacted to him that really sent a jolt of adrenaline through his veins. All he wanted to do was make that feeling last forever no matter how painful it was to delay what he knew they were both building up toward.
"What's the next base?" She asked breathlessly, her head slumping down to his shoulder because she couldn't bring herself to keep it upright any longer. Her body was acting as if separate from her brain, Rachel unknowingly thrusting into Puck's ministrations.
"Third," he answered on a growl, too far gone to understand why she was asking. He was pushed back to sit on the bench behind him, Rachel whimpering slightly when his fingers parted from her folds but otherwise not protesting the change in position. She simply attacked his mouth again with a searing kiss while pooling his boxers and gym shorts at his ankles. Then, without hesitation and with far more confidence than even she expected, she stopped kissing him and instead wrapped her mouth around his aching erection. "F-fuck!"
Puck gripped the edge of the bench with both hands, no doubt leaving nail marks in the laminate wood when she first brought her lips to his length. His dick was harder than he ever could remember it being before, but that wasn't necessarily saying much since he was fairly certain he couldn't even recite his address right then. She was using what she just learned for second and applied it to this new base, her hands and mouth working in unison to drive him closer and closer to oblivion. He could feel her tongue swirling around him and then, surprisingly, he felt his tip hit the back of her throat and he once again cursed out loud.
Rachel smiled at the sound of Puck losing control, empowered by her effect on him. She might be learning all of this for the first time, but he most certainly wasn't. Puck was known for his way with the ladies and she got no small amount of satisfaction in the idea that she might be taking him to a new, better place. Somewhere only she could take him. Somewhere they could go together.
"B, I'm gonna …" Puck tried to give some warning, tried to pull away. But when she started humming and swallowing around him while still bobbing up and down, there was no turning back. He sputtered out something unintelligible and fisted her long hair just in time for his orgasm to completely overtake him. It was stronger and more violent than he'd ever experienced, and he actually felt light headed when it was all over. His vision had to be blurry, because he swore he saw her lick her lips afterward and then smile. "Shit."
"Good student?" She asked coyly, bending down to grab her bra and shirt. Puck still didn't move, though the motion of him shaking his head repeatedly from side to side caught her eye.
"The best," he finally muttered, reaching down for his boxers and shorts and lifting them as he stood. He actually stumbled a bit walking to get his own shirt, and couldn't help but laugh as he put it on. When the fabric passed his eyes, Rachel was in front of him, leaning against the lockers with a soft smile. "Getting called straight up to the majors, babe."
Rachel giggled, letting her hands rest behind his neck when he wrapped his arms around her waist. "I still don't understand baseball."
"Well don't worry," he said as they walked out, Puck's jersey tossed over his shoulder and his arm draping across Rachel's upper body. "That was most definitely just the first lesson."
