A/N: Thanks a hundred more times for the reads, reviews, favorites and follows. The response to this story is seriously amazing and fun. Please keep it coming! This part is a little more disjointed than the rest and this song is a bit of a stretch for Rachel, but for some reason I thought it fit what I would picture their relationship as being. This is set just slightly after the "Get It Under Control" part I posted a little bit back so you might want to look over that one real quick as a refresher.
Brief warning/reminder: This story is rated M. There is no smut in this part, but there are lots of dirty words in varying sizes. Also, thanks to Paceismyherofor her help coming up with naughty words. Lizzie, I hope you notice that, as promised, I kept my fic-mitts off the word you dibsed. I might be pushing the timeframe with the song a bit because I think it was barely released when I have this set, but it's Stuck Like Glueby Sugarland. It was a real bitch to match up lyrics for.
Disclaimer: I'm so over saying this. This will be the last one on this story. I don't own Glee.
Get It Stuck In Your Head
Rachel had been studying the paperback book for the last two hours. She rolled over from her stomach to her back on the bed and stretched, groaning appreciatively at the fantastic feeling of her abdominal muscles stretching out. She had cut her focus on everything physical lately so she could study for the PSATs. Of course she maintained her early-morning elliptical schedule but that was her only real form of exercise and even glee wouldn't make the jump to 'extra active' until the beginning of November to prepare for the sectional competition in the middle of the month.
Noah, on the other hand, had been keeping up with longer and longer football practices that would (hopefully) culminate in the November playoffs. But that was still about a month away. He told her he hoped for a football scholarship for college, but they both knew the truth—McKinley, though much improved with the addition of Coach Bieste, did not have the kind of football program that attracted scouts from universities. If Puck and Finn (admittedly, she figured Karofsky and Azimio had similar goals, although she really couldn't have cared less as long as they were far, far away from her) really wanted a scholarship, their best hope was getting a good run in through the playoffs. That way, they would be playing schools that were more likely to attract football scouts so they would at least get noticed.
The short of it was they had been so busy they had barely spent any time together since their relationship had taken its more serious turn. Limited time translated into even less sex—and in some ways, it was making them both a little grumpy. Funny how you could miss something that was barely a habit.
"You know, it probably wouldn't kill you to study. PSATs are on Saturday, Noah," she said simply even as she closed her eyes. She had seen the magazine he was…well, not even reading. She had seen the magazine he was idly flipping through, and she was pretty sure Sports Illustrated wasn't going to help him out much with the upcoming test.
"Why would you think I'm taking that crap?" He asked honestly, never lifting his eyes from the glossy page in front of him.
"You keep telling me you want to get into college? Maybe you should put some effort into it besides athletics. Did you ever think of that?"
"Tests suck ass, Berry. Why would I volunteer to go sit through one?"
She rolled back up onto her stomach so she could actually look at him. "What if I asked you to?"
"No offense, but I'm not pussy-whipped enough to do that just because you said so. Other things, maybe, but not go in early and on a Saturday." He shrugged. "Besides, that's the holy Sabbath and I've got to rest sometime. If it was good enough for God, it's good enough for me."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like I'm supposed to believe you're sitting it out in the name of religion," she said as she shut the test prep book she'd been looking at. She picked it up and tossed it at him (probably aiming right for his nose if he knew that haughty little tone of voice). He caught it with a raised eyebrow. "Quiz me."
"Quiz you," he repeated. "I didn't come over here to be a tutor." Her eyes met his and he snorted a little. "Okay, I didn't come over here to be that kind of a tutor."
She tilted her head to the side. "Then why did you come over here?"
"Oh, that's cute," he said as he pulled the book open. He muttered something she couldn't make out under his breath (because, he knew, he wasn't saying actual words but just making his point). "What's four times six?"
She leveled a look at him that was just shy of spitting fire. "If you aren't going to help me, you can leave now. I have studying to do."
"Why does it have to be one or the other?" He asked. He closed the book and turned to set it on her desk. "Let's do something that doesn't suck."
She tipped her head to the side and attempted to look annoyed but her total inability to fight a smile made the effort a fail. "What did you have in mind that isn't sex since my door is open and my dad is downstairs?"
"Yeah, I know you can't shut up when we do that," he said easily and he let his eyes skate across the wall from her door, around the bed and back to her. "What about the glee assignment?"
She groaned and flopped back over on her back. "I don't want to talk about that again."
"Oh, come on!" He said. "I think we were up to two dirty dates and I'll change the oil in your car for the swap."
"I'm not trading sexual favors for a glee assignment." She dropped her head back so she was looking at him upside down. He was still hot and she sighed. She really wished her dad wasn't home. "I will, however, help you get unstuck and find a showtune."
"I still can't believe Schue assigned me to a showtune. That's bullshit," he groaned as he kicked his feet up onto her vanity. She was still flipped over, watching him upside down.
"I got country. Mine is worse," she said. "I guess I'm going to have to sing something whiny."
"If you can explain how 'Don't Rain on My Parade' is not the whiniest song ever, you can keep that argument without me harassing you about it, princess."
She sighed and sat up properly. "Are you really going to start about this again?"
"I won't if you trade me," he said easily.
"It could be worse," she pointed out. "Finn has to do a song in a foreign language."
"I'm not sure if that's worse for him or us," Noah responded dryly. He dropped his feet from the vanity. "What did you have in mind for this song? And keep my Jewish streak alive."
Her smile broke open. "You know how I love a challenge."
"Well, of course," he said with a smirk. He leaned forward on his feet, closing the small gap between her vanity and the edge of the bed where she sat quickly. He dropped his arms on either side of her so he was in her personal space. His smirk bloomed into a smile when he heard her breath catch. He was pretty sure he could get her to trade almost anything for a sexual favor with the right motivation. "I know my audience," he mumbled, his mouth hovering above her neck.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she tilted her head away from him, unconsciously giving him access to the pulse point that she wanted him to massage with his tongue. As he moved down to press his mouth to the exact spot, it was like something broke over her. She opened her eyes and righted her head, then rested her hands on his shoulder.
"Avenue Q," she said simply.
He blinked, not as quick to reroute his thought process as she was. "Wh-what the hell?" He stammered.
"Um… 'I'm Not Wearing Underwear Today'," she said with a smile.
"Excellent," he said, that cocky smile spreading all the way across his cheeks as he renewed his effort to tongue her neck.
She finally understood what he was thinking, her reflexes slowed by his proximity alone, and she laughed. "No! That's the song you should sing."
He backed away and studied her seriously. "How do you even know about a song like that? And is it real?"
"Of course it's real," she said. She planted a quick kiss on his lips and moved to queue up her iTunes.
He totally felt like he'd lost the upper hand here. Why was he always losing the upper hand with her? It was starting to be seriously fucking annoying.
It took all of ten seconds for him to decide to do the song, which was about a third of its total length. As she explained that the cowriter of the entire show was Jewish, and it would be the perfect protest sort of song—afterward, Schue would never make him go solo on one again. And fuck if Rachel Berry didn't get him a little excited about singing a showtune.
"So since I helped you," she said slowly as she turned back around to face him, "maybe you could help me with vocabulary?"
He raised an eyebrow at her, but right about then her Dad appeared in the doorway.
"Dinnertime, Rachel. Is Noah staying tonight?"
Rachel looked from her Dad to Noah and he just shook his head but then turned to address her dad himself.
"No, thank you, sir. I have to get home and help my sister with her homework."
Rachel bit back her laugh because… right. He didn't even do his own homework, let alone help his sister. More often than not, she had been the one to help his sister since school (and they) had started. Her dad excused himself and she rounded on Noah with a grin.
"That was a pretty terrible excuse," she said.
"Yeah, well…" he shrugged and then skipped over the teasing he had been doing before her bed to meet her in the middle of the floor for a real kiss. He was actually a little surprised when her tongue slid against his own, forcing his mouth open, and she ran her hands up his chest.
"Maybe someday football practice won't be so long and you can come over before my dad gets home," she said when she pulled away.
"Maybe you can meet me in the shower," he said, diving in for another kiss and pressing his body against her lean length.
She broke away, really broke away, and bit her lip as she smiled at him. "Maybe isn't a word on my vocabulary list."
He winked at her as he turned to grab his jacket from its hanging spot on her doorknob. "Mine either, babe. I'll call you later."
Two days later and all of the maybes had stayed maybes and no personal time had actually come to fruition. They had barely even managed to talk on the phone, and even when they did, he sounded a little frustrated that her studying schedule was getting in the way of something he wanted to try (phone sex). He was even more frustrated when she told him that phone sex wasn't particularly on a list of her fantasies.
She frowned as she tugged her locker open. Were they just kidding themselves here? They were so different and were so busy she was really starting to wonder and it was doing nothing for her focus in other areas. She hadn't decided what stupid country song to sing for glee yet and the week was half over. She had barely been able to study for PSATs, she had bowed out on family night with her dads, and now she couldn't even remember what class she was gathering items for.
Her eyes automatically went to the shelf up top and she tried to clear her brain anywhere away from phone sex and toward what books she would need for her next two classes. She just had English and then glee, so she stretched up to grab the textbook she would need for the first one. As she stretched her arm up, she saw something taped to the very back of the locker. She was totally distracted and redirected her arm, barely retracting it to pull the papers up toward her face before Santana happened by and snapped the locker shut right in front of her face, barely missing her fingers, and then continued on without saying a word. Whatever random Cheerio was walking with Santana looked back over her shoulder with a smirk, but Rachel didn't react at all, didn't even look up, as she sank back against the lockers, looking at the page in her hand.
It was absolutely covered in Puck's scratchy handwriting and she had to squint her eyes to make out any words. To make matters worse, he had written it in red marker. He told her once the only time he wrote, on those rare occasions he actually deigned to do a homework assignment, that he did it in red just to piss his teachers off.
Study this vocabulary. There will be a quiz later and you'd better ace it OR ELSE.
She let out a scoff, finally looking up from the page. What in the world was he up to? She flicked her eyes back down to the page.
abstinence- not an option for you anymore
amomaxia - fucking in a parked car
amychesis – scratching the shit out of your partner while you fuck
autoeroticism—fucking yourself
bondage—fucking while someone is tied up
brassirothesaurias – bra collector like me
coition—fucking
colpoquette—a woman with perfect boobs like yourself who knows it and works them
copulate – fancy way of saying fuck
Her jaw dropped. They were all big, sexual words. And they were in alphabetical order. He must've been joking when he said alphabetical order was for nerds like her. She was almost afraid to look again.
defloration-popping her cherry
eunoterpsia- sex as a life goal (totally on board with this)
fellatio- blow job
Her eyes got wider as they scanned the list. He had put some serious work into this. The words covered the entire front of the page. She cast a glance up at the almost-empty hallway and wondered what would happen if she actually got caught by a teacher with this in her hand. Well… if the teacher were Sue, that would be easy. She would be utterly humiliated and it would probably involve either a microphone or a bullhorn. She caught sight of one, in bigger letters than the rest, and smiled.
melolagnia—when music makes you want to fuck
The bell rang and she immediately turned back toward her locker. He had just made her late for class!
She spent most of English daydreaming and a song from the radio popped into her head. She wondered if she could put it together quickly enough to perform in glee. The song itself wasn't that hard and she managed to doodle some rough sheet music for it while her teacher wasn't looking. And while it wasn't true that this song necessarily promoted…whatever that word was…it summed up everything she thought about him. It hadn't happened a lot in the last several weeks, but whenever she had started doubting if she really wanted their relationship or if she even had time for it, he found some totally Puck way (there wasn't a lot of 'Noah' in the number of times he'd cursed on that page) to make her laugh and to make her wiggle in her seat—another way to get stuck in her head no matter what else she was doing. The suggestive nature of some of those words had certainly done that.
Was there some way she could get even, a way to return the favor? She could find a way to rub up against him during the choreography. As she started to plan and further blocked out her teacher she realized she had fallen right into his trap. Payback was really, really going to suck for him.
That was her frame of mind as she walked into Glee that day. She actually wanted to perform the song, even if it was on the fly. The music was so easy she was positive the band kids could sight read it. The choreography would kind of take care of itself. It was a song she'd already thought of doing (once she heard it on the radio this morning), so she felt as prepared as she really needed to be. She didn't want to spend any more time on the stupid country assignment anyway. There was no benefit in it for her; she wanted to focus more on ballads because she already knew where her strengths were.
Puck was already there in the choir room, his chair tipped back on two legs so he could look at Santana, who was behind him and talking. Even as he was tipped back in the relaxed position, she could hear the end of Santana's rant and his replying words as she entered the room.
"—and then she just stood there."
"Yeah, well…I've told you to stop doing shit like that to her or I'll cut you."
Rachel tried to fight the smile, but his eyes were closed and his hands were folded against his stomach. If she hadn't heard him speak, she would assume he was dozing off. That's how casually he had issued the threat.
She looked casually around the rest of the room, trying to see who else was there. She could barely make out Finn hunched over something in Schue's office and could only assume Schue was in there with him. It quite likely meant she should go see what they were doing. She sighed, and noticed Quinn hovering over a folder on the side of the room opposite where Puck and Santana were sitting. Sam was sitting next to her and talking.
In a split second before she went to see what Schue and Finn were working on, she walked over to stand right in front of Puck. She put her hands on his knees so his chair jolted forward and his eyes flew open in surprise, but she didn't give him a chance to say anything before she pressed her lips to his.
"Well, hello," he smarmed when she pulled away and smiled. "Found the list, did ya?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I have some words to add to it, too."
"Well, let's go. We don't really need this class." He leaned forward to kiss her again. Rachel was vaguely aware of Santana scoffing behind them and could feel the fiery heat from her eyes.
Rachel shook her head and pulled away just enough to speak. "I don't cut class and you know it."
He smiled. "You're such a good little schoolgirl," he muttered, shaking his head. His hand gripped at the waist on her shirt as she leaned forward a little more. He was like an addiction for her. How could she possibly think this was a bad idea? Maybe it was a bad idea she'd gotten so hooked this quickly.
When Rachel's arms slipped around his neck, he parted his legs for her easily so she could move closer, and Santana's annoyed sound was enough to pull them apart.
"I believe I clearly told you to shut the fuck up, Satan," he growled, tipping his head back a little bit.
Rachel kissed his cheek. "It's okay. This isn't really appropriate and I have to go see what Finn and Mr. Schuester need before class starts. I have a surprise for you anyway so we can't leave." She let her voice drop down. "As much as I want to try out your A's."
"Later," he promised, his eyes slipping closed and his words a growl.
"Later," she promised, already having something in mind.
He watched her as she left, wondering exactly which word she'd seen on his list that had given her an idea for a surprise.
It wasn't long before he had his chance to find out, dragging himself to sitting as she moved in front of the class and began her explanation.
"Well…" she started, pressing her hands together. "Mr. Schue assigned me a country song and I have to admit that it's been kind of hard for me to figure out." She looked quickly to Puck and then looked down. "It isn't the only thing in my life I've been thinking about a lot and trying to figure out."
He frowned a little. What the fuck? He was pretty sure they had worked all this shit out last week at that party. Did she find out he'd been in Jason's room with Brittany once upon a time?
"Anyway, I think I made it too hard and I hope I'm never, ever assigned country music again unless it's part of the ensemble." With those words, she gestured over to the band kids, who started the bouncy little song on her cue. She tapped her foot and looked down at the ground, unable to fight the shy little smile as she hummed the beginning. Once she started the words, though, she was looking right at Noah.
Absolutely nobody knows me better
No one that can make me feel so good
How did we stay so long together?
When everybody, everybody said we never would
And just when I, I start to think they're right…the love has died
She brought her hands to her chest and rocked back and forth in time with the music.
There you go makin' my heart beat again, heart beat again, heart beat again
There you go makin' me feel like a kid
Won't you do it, do it one time?
There you go pullin' me right back in, right back in, right back in
And I know I'm never lettin' this go
I'm stuck on you, whoa-oh whoa-oh stuck like glue
You and me baby, we're stuck like glue
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh stuck like glue
You and me baby, we're stuck like glue
Most of the class had heard the song on the radio and started in on the last part, singing along and rocking back and forth, pulling the less familiar friends into their rocking back and forth and jumping to the bouncy song.
Somedays I don't feel like tryin'
Some days you know I wanna just give up
When it doesn't matter who's right, fight about it all night…had enough
You give me that look…
"I'm sorry baby, let's make up"
You do that thing that makes me laugh… and just like that
She looked over at him and he could feel his pants tighten up a little bit. Let's make up was something that had taken on a whole new meaning for him in their short but hot-and-cold relationship. Especially when it came with that look attached. Even if they hadn't been fighting. He folded his arms and tried to keep his face straight, because breaking right now would mean she was in charge. Fuck if she could get the upper hand with a cute little song when they weren't even fighting. Even if she looked like that.
There you go makin' my heart beat again, heart beat again, heart beat again
There you go makin' me feel like a kid
Won't you do it, do it one time?
There you go pullin' me right back in, right back in, right back in
And I know I'm never lettin' this go
I'm stuck on you, whoa-oh whoa-oh stuck like glue
You and me baby, we're stuck like glue
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh stuck like glue
You and me baby, we're stuck like glue
She was moving around the now, and as the beat to the song changed, she was right in front of him, her hips swaying in a pretty suggestive pattern. He looked up at her, maybe a little cautiously and wondering what she was doing as she twirled, her hair dancing almost separate from the rest of her body.
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh you almost stay out
Two stuck together from the ATL out whoa-oh, whoa-oh
Feelin' kinda sick, just a spoonful of sugar make you better real quick
I say whoa-oh, whoa-oh whatcha gonna do with that, whoa-oh whoa-oh
Come on over here with that sugar sticky sweet stuff, come on give me that stuff
Everybody wants some melodies that get stuck up in your head
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh up in your head, whoa-oh whoa-oh up in your head
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, up in your head
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-oh whoa-oh stuck like glue
You and me together say it's all I wanna do
He felt her lean down behind him, her hair brushing over his shoulders as she bent down and placed a wet kiss on his cheek. He fought the urge to smile, willingly letting her unfold his arms. The urge to smile faded as he felt her tie his fucking wrists together with something behind the fucking chair. She had tied him up? In the middle of class? Really?
"You forgot a word," she said quickly as their classmates launched into the next quick part ahead of her. "Helotry. Look it up." She ran her hand quickly over his Mohawk as she skipped back down the raised step to his seat and into the middle of the room to finish off her song, the rest of their glee members up and out of their seats, bouncing around and accentuating her playful little "oh" sounds and clapping in all the right places.
There you go makin' my heart beat again, heart beat again, heart beat again
There you go makin' me feel like a kid
Won't you do it, do it one time?
There you go pullin' me right back in, right back in, right back in
And I know I'm never lettin' this go
I'm stuck on you, whoa-oh whoa-oh stuck like glue
You and me baby, we're stuck like glue
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh stuck like glue
You and me baby, we're stuck like glue
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh stuck like glue
You and me baby, we're stuck like glue
His foot was tapping, goddamn and God love her. He was going to have this girl and this stupid motherfucking song stuck in his head for a long time. Lots longer than he was going to be stuck in this chair, that was for damn sure. And once he had untied himself, it was on.