Thank you again to everyone who read the story, especially people who reviewed! Your reviews continue to inspire me to work on this story even though finals are looming on the horizon! It's taking a little longer than I would like to get to the main plot of this story, but I just want to make sure I establish their relationship and my interpretations of their characters as firmly as I can before I start getting into the big stuff. So thank you for your patience and please continue reading!
4. Wet Nightmare
When Rachel walked through the door to her bedroom wearing nothing except what was possibly a dishtowel, Puck was pretty sure that he almost died of the combination of shock and Rachel's total hotness, because he was a dude who liked chicks, and he had two fully-functioning eyes. Rachel Berry's face looked a little weird sometimes when he got tired of hearing her talk so much, but her body was banging by anybody's standards. She was curvy in all the right places, like her thighs and her butt and even though her boobs weren't that big, they were still totally nice looking and they were the perfect shape. So seeing her in a towel was like, the Holy Grail of spank bank material. He didn't think that even seeing her fully naked would be as awesome, because with the towel there was all this mystery and shit and he was pretty sure that he would be dreaming about her dropping that thing to the floor for three weeks or until he saw an equally as hot or hotter chick in something smaller.
"So, uh," he stammered to her closed closet door as he tried to make himself comfortable on the bed. He didn't want to look too skeevy or anything, but he wanted her to come out of that closet and see how good he looked lounging on her too-bright pink sheets. And maybe he would pout his lips or something and maybe she would go for it because, hey, friends with benefits was looking a hell of a lot more likely. Chicks didn't just walk around in towels if they didn't want guys to start thinking about ripping those towels off and taking advantage of the situation.
But anyway.
"Can I ask you a question?" he said.
"Sure, Noah. Anything."
And that sexy voice had to be on purpose, right? That couldn't have just been natural. She was totally planning on giving it to him.
Awesome.
"Oh, uh…okay, well…it's kind of stupid."
"It's just us here, Noah. If we're going to be friends then I think it's acceptable for us to be able to share our innermost thoughts and feelings with each other."
"Well, when you put it that way, my thing seems a lot less gay. I mean, stupid. Sorry. Cus of your dads and everything, I shouldn't have said that, but…Okay, look, if this question ever leaves the room, then I'm going to dump a slushy over your head three times a day for the rest of your life."
"No you won't. Despite your best efforts to conceal any trace of emotion, I know that your own slushy experience changed you for the better. And, besides, you can't afford three slushies a day. Winter is very quickly approaching, and that means fewer pools to clean. But I assure you that nothing you say will leave my confidence even under threats of death."
"Okay, well, look, I know that I was an asshole to you."
He heard her laugh even though it was really quiet.
"Noah, I think that would qualify as the understatement of the century."
"Shut up. I'm trying to…look, I just wanna know…were you ever, like, freaked out because you thought I'd do something like break into your house or…whatever?"
There was a long silence before she finally emerged from the closet, dressed back in her creepy choir girl clothes while she continued to towel off her wet hair. When she saw him lounging against her pillows, she smiled and sat down on the foot of the bed. She didn't seem to mind that she was sitting between his legs, so he didn't bother moving them.
"You're asking me if I ever felt this kind of fear because of your actions?"
"Yeah, basically."
Rachel looked at the ground and sighed, looking sort of angry. He wasn't sure if it was because of him, but he felt like it wasn't. Still, he sat up and inched closer to her. He wasn't sure if he was trying to intimidate her into telling the truth, or trying to comfort her into feeling like she could say anything to him. He guessed it probably depended on what Rachel thought of him. What she really thought of him.
Whoa, and it was kind of intimate. And that was weird. Noah Puckerman (usually) didn't do intimate. Intimate was lame. Rough and dirty was how he preferred it. Like with Santana or with Quinn or with any number of bitchy girls he'd done it with during the too-short years in which he had been a sexual god.
"In the interest of preserving the tradition of honesty and openness that has defined our brief romantic relationship turned friendship, in that order, I suppose I have to admit that occasionally I envisioned various nightmarish scenarios that you would have a factor in."
"Like what?"
Was he leaning closer? No, definitely not.
"Well, being that you were one of my chief tormentors, and being that my late-night television marathons too-often include the show Criminal Minds, I occasionally imagined you and the others on the football team devising various ways to scare me. I rarely imagined that it would come to actual harm, however. The only example I can think of in which I was legitimately afraid is one which was sparked by a dream I'd had, so that wasn't even a realistic fear. More like a delusion brought on by unnatural circumstances."
"Tell me about it."
"No one likes to hear about other peoples' dreams, Noah. Daddy says that it's like telling a story and then saying 'I guess you had to be there'."
"That's usually true. But since I was in this dream, you should tell me. People think it's cool when you dream about them. Especially if…wait, did we have sex?"
"In a way," Rachel admitted. Puck grinned, but the look she sent him made the smile melt from his face.
"Are you saying you had a dream where I raped you?"
"On the football field, to be precise. In the middle of a game. It was not a pleasant dream. Everyone was cheering. Fortunately, it wasn't very graphic. I can hardly remember any of it besides the cheering part. It was just the idea of it that frightened me."
And now it was going to have to get awkward, Puck realized. He didn't like getting deep with people, especially not chicks. Because then they'd get this idea that he wanted to do it all the damn time, and he really didn't. But this time it was kind of necessary. He wanted her to know for a fact that he wasn't like that. There were many, many less-than-moral things that he prided himself on being, but a rapist had never been and would never be one of them. His mother had raised him better than that, even though half the time she didn't seem to realize it.
"Look, Berry…you know I'd never…"
"I know," she interrupted, turning to face him at last and shooting him one of those killer smiles that was a little less scary than her kiss-ass smile and a little less sexy than her making-out smile. "I never really believed that you would. But after I dream something, I generally start to think about it happening in waking life. And occasionally I'd get this fear when I saw you in the hallway, not because I thought I was going to get slushied, but because I'd forget that it had been just a dream. The whole thing was merely a result of Criminal Minds and a series of Lifetime movies that my dads forced me to watch in lieu of any sort of sex talk. I stayed up too late, ate too many carbs before bed, and I dreamt about you violating me on the football field in front of the entire school. Needless to say, ice cream is no longer accepted after nine o'clock."
Puck knew that she wanted him to laugh, and he almost did. But he kind of felt like it would be a mean thing to do. How could he laugh at that? The chick dreamed about him raping her. And, really, could he blame her? He'd never given her reason to think that he was anything better before he'd joined her stupid club.
"Why'd you date me, then?" he asked after a silence that was maybe even more awkward than his attempts to make sure she knew he wasn't a rapist.
"Because you asked," was her dejected, whispered answer.
And, shit, he maybe could have cried right there.
Maybe.
Neither of them wanted to go back to school, but Rachel insisted and ended up dragging him out of the house by the hand. And his fake resistance was totally not just an excuse to hold her hand or anything, but he wasn't exactly unhappy about the fact that her fingers were still wrapped tightly around his when they got outside to where his truck was waiting.
"Noah, you have just been so wonderful," Rachel admitted when they finally released each other and Puck opened the door for her (only because he was already on that side of the car, not because he was trying to be awesome and sweet like Finn). He grinned at her and winked a little, then got into the driver's seat and revved the engine a bit before backing out of the driveway.
"You use words like wonderful and lovely a lot. I think you should start calling me badass."
"Fine. You've been perfectly badass today, Noah Puckerman."
"And what you said about me being strong and brutal to Schue was pretty cool. I think you should use words like that to describe me more often."
Rachel laughed, and he grinned at her, taking in the sight of her freshly-washed hair and face. She was clutching a bag of clean clothes in her hands (just in case), and smiling optimistically at the world that passed them by in blurry, colorful tones. It was kind of nice, especially since she wasn't talking.
But then Puck started thinking, because for the first time all day he actually could since she wasn't either talking his ear off or making him feel bad for her or walking around half-naked in front of him.
So when he started thinking, he realized that he was going to have to talk to the guys on the hockey team about this. Probably with punching involved. He knew that he'd told Rachel that he wouldn't, but that didn't mean shit. Besides, her objections (he really needed to stop picking up occasional Berry words) were based on him getting hurt and not being able to do sectionals. Fortunately for her, he was pretty sure he could crush those guys in his sleep. They deserved it, too; first throwing slushies on his best friend, and then on him, then the mother of his baby, and then his ex-girlfriend. It was technically a personal attack so he could pretend it was all about him and not about the way Rachel had looked all droopy and sad, earlier, or the way that droopy sadness had made his stomach feel like it was trying to escape from his body, Alien style.
"I might be late to glee today," he told her finally as they were pulling into the school parking lot (and holy shit, who'd have thought he'd be the first to break one of their silences, ever). "Could you tell Schue for me? You know, cus he thinks we're dating? We could even publically break up again if you want, but afterwards, cus I really am going to be late."
"I am surprisingly comfortable with the deception that we're dating. If you don't mind, of course. Mr. Schue and I have been on rocky terms ever since I developed that silly schoolgirl crush on him, and I believe that the illusion of a boyfriend would be good for our professional relationship. Only for Mr. Schue though, naturally. I know you have a reputation to protect in front of our peers, and I have a feeling that reputation doesn't involve dating me twice. Once was brave enough."
And there she went again, saying something like a total joke that really wasn't.
"Whatever. Dating you was fine for my reputation."
"You got a slushy in the face."
"Yeah? So?"
"So your reputation was clearly not as fine as you think it was."
"He's on the hockey team. Our hockey team sucks."
"Worse than our football team?"
"Yes. And I don't know if you realize how embarrassing that is, but it's pretty damn bad. He's just some punk who thinks he can get away with shit because now we're in glee and they think we're all gay or something."
"What a ridiculous perception! Finn has Quinn and you…well, you have Quinn as well, in a way. Anyone can see the way you look at her. And Mike and Matt are often asked if they're dating Brittany and Santana, respectfully…besides, what does homosexuality have to do with throwing slushies on people? It's simply barbaric and disrespectful." Suddenly, she lit up. "Noah! Do you think that if I threw a slushy in the face of the captain of the hockey team, it would solve things?"
"Absolutely not, but I'm really interested to hear why you would think that."
"Well, after you suffered your slushy humiliation, you were truly repentant for having ever done the same to me, and we shared a very touching moment as a result. Perhaps the same thing will happen with him."
"You want to share a touching moment with Karofsky?"
"Oh, under no circumstances! I may be desperate for affection, but even I have standards."
And even though that was another one of those not-really-a-joke jokes, Puck still laughed. Because this one actually was funny. Rachel gave that proud little smile again, and he realized that they were just sitting awkwardly in his car. He opened the door and got out, and waited for Rachel in the front until she had emerged as well.
She had a lot of books, but he didn't offer to carry them.
There. Badassness reestablished.
"Before you go off on another rant about whatever, just…don't throw a slushy at Karofsky, okay?"
"Why not? It worked for you. It was certainly not the beginning of your transformation into a full-fledged glee club member and decent person, but it sped along an otherwise painfully slow process."
"Yeah, but I'm not Karofsky. And Karofsky has Linder to back him up."
"Mark Linder?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't know he was on the hockey team."
"He's not. He's Karofsky's best friend. The dude's a tool, but he's jacked. And totally fucked in the head."
Rachel sighed and looked at him for a while. He tried to express his total seriousness with just his face, and he thought he pulled it off because she looked down at the ground and made a sort of adorable little frowning face at the cracks in the pavement.
"It really would cause more problems than it would solve, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, probably."
"It would have been lovely to get some sort of revenge."
Puck didn't say anything, but he smiled a little.
Rachel would be getting her revenge. He was going to see to that.
