AN: Sooo... Finn is gonna have a party. And he's invited the kids from Glee as well as some football guys and the Cheerios. It's been done before, I know. But Seven Minutes In Heaven won by three votes when I checked... and there were enough to have an Under the Bleachers chapter later on too. Anyone who would like to know why it's taking me so long to update any and or all of my stories... go ahead and look at my profile. Pull it up in a new tab. See that icon? That's my kid. And she's already got a bad attitude. Kind of have my hands full right now lol... On with the story.

"This is stupid." Puck grumbled. He was annoyed again. This time it really was Rachel's fault, although it could be a few of the whiskey shots he'd downed in the kitchen with Finn and Matt. But mostly he figured it was Rachel's fault. What with her being the one who had dragged him into the closet. The alcohol in his system made it easy for her to pull him in and before he knew it, they were in the closet in Finn's room (and dammit if there wasn't six inches of space between them) and he was trying to think of baseball stats and explosions again... and it wasn't really working.

"Stupid Rachel."....wait was that out loud?

"Shut up, Puck." she sighed and leaned as far away from him as she could, pushing herself up against closet door (there were eight inches between them and at least now he could breath without getting bombard with her scent again.... kind of). She pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and started to text someone. When the response came she rolled her eyes, quickly clicking back an answer.

"Who the hell are you talking to?" he demanded, still annoyed and trying not to stare at her lips for too long (that could get dangerous) because he absloutly was not thinking about how soft the looked. He was stuck in a closet with Rachel because she'd dragged him in when that Tina girl had said soemthing about playing a game. Puck hadn't been paying all that much attention to the other girl, his eyes glued to Rachel as she giggle and laughed with Mercedes and Kurt. He'd just knocked back his fourth or fifth (might have been sixth at that point because he was trying not to notice she was wearing a shorter than normal skirt again) beer when she'd walked by and grabbed him by the shirt collar.

"None of your business."she mumbled, sending another answer to whoever was on the other end of the phone. He heard Mercedes loudly declare that she needed another drink and that Finn looked like he needed one too... Kurt giggled that he'd take one too. Three sets of footsteps were heard leaving the room, beyond the door.

"Finally." she muttered.

"I'm still confused over here." he muttered, "An'alil drunk."

"Neither of which surprise me." she snapped her phone shut and placed it back in her pocket.

"We're in a closet."

"Very good, Puck. Maybe you'll pass high school after all."

"Why are we in the closet?" he blinked, trying to ignore how cute she looked when she was annoyed. Also being ignored, was the fact that she wasn't leaning against the wall anymore, so no he wasn't thinking about tilting his head to kiss her. Not at all. There were all kinds of warning bells going off in his head. One in particular was telling him that no, he did not want to see if the thigh exposed by her shorter than normal skirt(again and god dammit that wasn't fair... short skirts should be outlawed on girls with legs like that) was a soft as it looked, no matter what. He clenched his hands into fists to keep them at his side.

"Seven minutes in Heaven. Two people, tiny space, hormones go crazy. That's how you play it, Stupid."

"You hate me."

"I'm sure it's mutual." she mumbled, before turning around to put her ear to the door, "Oh, come on! Grow a set already."

"What?!"

"That girl has to grow a spine some time." she was muttering to himself again. She pulled out her cellphone again and started to text.

He was sure he had been telling his hand to stay glued to his side... but it wasn't listening. In the dim light filtering through slatted door, he could see it reach up to play with the hem of her skirt. This could not end well.