A/N: LONG chapter this one. I hope you like it :)
.-.
Puck jerked awake as the bus came to a sudden stop. He didn't know when, but he had somehow managed to doze off. Thank god. He turned to look at Rachel and couldn't help but smile. The non-stop talking machine had finally tired herself out, her head resting on his shoulder while she slept. He almost laughed as he took in the sight of her gaping mouth and the slight snoring sound emanating from her. For a star, she wasn't really as graceful as one might think.
Puck craned his neck to the front of the bus, just as the bus driver made an announcement over the bus' loudspeaker. "A thirty minute break for lunch and to take a piss," he growled before stalking off the bus.
Puck looked at Rachel again and gently nudged her awake. She groaned in protest.
"It's the middle of the day." Rachel whined tiredly.
Puck laughed. "I know. But it's time for lunch. Come on, Rachel, wake up."
Rachel groaned again and her eyes blinked open, obviously groggy from sleep. She stared at him momentarily before mumbling, "Stars rarely stay awake this late."
Puck smiled down at her, caught off-guard by whatever feeling she was inspiring inside of him. He could admit that he found her attractive; his body clearly did. But for some reason, it felt like more than that. It just... he still didn't even fully understand how all this was happening. He didn't really want to add his messed up swirl of emotions into the confusion.
"Yeah, well, you said it yourself; you're not just any ordinary star," he replied, standing up and pushing his duffel back beneath his seat. Rachel looked up at him owlishly, obviously surprised by his words. "Now come on, I'm fucking starving."
"Okay, okay," Rachel relented, as Puck pulled her reluctant form off the bus. "But you have to promise not to eat me like you suggested before… what?"
Puck had stopped abruptly in the middle of the aisle to look at her, his eyebrow arched suggestively. He was reminded once again how she clearly had no idea.
He smirked at her, shaking his head. "Nothing," he replied before continuing on his way.
They stepped out to the not-so welcome sign of a rundown truck stop, complete with moldy ceiling and boarded up windows, its seediness leaching from every aspect of the structure, if you could even call it that.
"Noah," Rachel began uncertainly, peeking out from behind his shoulder. "I don't think I want to eat here."
It was almost funny, expect it wasn't. He didn't think anyone in their right mind would eat here. They'd probably contract a parasite from eating one of the "deluxe" sandwiches which were advertised on large, gaudy posters.
"Yeah, you're right." Puck replied, resigned.
"Let's try our luck over there instead," she suggested, pointing towards a tiny town adjacent to the truck stop, a little way down the road.
"I don't know, Rachel..." Puck replied uncertainly. He was hungry, sure, and there was no way in hell that he'd actually eat any of the food here, but the town looked smaller than Lima. Things didn't look promising at all. There was also the matter of the bus. It would only be here for half an hour. Puck seriously doubted the potbellied driver would wait for stragglers if they got delayed. He was reluctant to leave in case something happened.
"Please, Noah…" Rachel pleaded, tugging on his arm. "Surely whatever they have available there will be much more enticing than the food here. At the very least, the food should be more sanitary."
"Maybe we should just wait–" he started as he was unceremoniously interrupted by the loud grumble of his stomach. He looked at Rachel as she pressed her lips firmly together, trying to hold in her laughter. "Fine," Puck relented. "But we better be quick."
Rachel clapped gleefully before slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Thank you!"
It took them about five minutes to reach the center of the small town called Resol. Puck was actually disappointed at how small the town was. In fact, it seemed like one of those small towns in movies where a psycho killer goes around killing people, and nobody would notice for weeks that everyone in town had been brutally murdered because no one ever went there.
It had a total of four streets, crisscrossing in a grid, each lined with either houses or small shops. He guessed that the regular trucker crowd kept the town from dying, but Puck was hardly hopeful that they'd find anything more appetizing to eat.
It seemed like a hopeless cause until he smelled a heavenly scent emanating from a small shop at the very end of the street. He briefly glanced at Rachel, who was equally entranced by the smell. They quickly made their way over and found themselves standing outside a little deli called "The Midnight Schue".
And by little, he meant miniscule.
They walked inside to find a woman in her early to mid 30's standing primly behind the counter, carefully wiping it down with disinfectant wipes. She looked up as they entered, a wide smile on her face, and gestured towards the single table in the joint.
Puck ushered Rachel to the table as the woman quickly disposed of her clear plastic gloves and rounded the counter.
"Welcome," she said sweetly in a high pitched voice, adjusting the tiny, white chef's hat sitting slightly askew upon her ginger hair. "What can I get for you?"
Puck glanced at Rachel as she perused the menu, a perplexed expression on her face. She shot Puck a look and he chuckled.
"I got this," he said, reaching over to take the menu from her before ordering.
The woman smiled as she jotted down the order before rushing back to the kitchen. Puck turned his head and saw a man with curly hair and a spatula in his hand. He watched as the man looked at his wife adoringly while she spoke to him excitedly, no doubt relaying their order.
Puck smiled, turning towards Rachel. Though he didn't quite know why, the woman's boisterous smile reminded him of her.
Puck leaned back in his chair and listened to Rachel as she chatted merrily while waiting for their food. She had obviously recovered from her interrupted nap earlier and was now back to her bouncing, happy self. He really couldn't see where she got all her energy from. Sure, he had managed to get a couple hours shut-eye on the bus, but he was still as dead as ever, eager to get back so he could sleep some more. Rachel, on the other hand, was almost impossible to stop once she got going.
He watched her intently as she rocked in her seat excitedly. She was rambling about a photo of kittens hanging on the wall, gushing about their cuteness. He was thankful when their food came, not that he expected her to settle down as they ate; it's just that the more he watched her, the more... intrigued he became. She was so unaffected. So different from anyone he'd ever met.
He pushed a plate towards her and said, "Here, try this."
She reached out daintily to pick up the burger on her plate, bringing it slowly to her lips before taking a bite. She chewed thoughtfully, savoring the taste. "It's quite nice," she said with a smile. "What is it?"
Puck took a bite of his own burger, almost groaning at how good it tasted. "It's a beef burger." He replied. "With everything."
She looked at him and asked shyly, as if she was afraid of his response, "Um, what's beef?"
Puck chuckled. "Well, you remember that cow you were 'talking' to this morning?" Rachel nodded before he continued. "That's beef."
She looked at him in confusion, but as his meaning dawned on her, Puck watched in surprise as her eyes widened in horror. Rachel coughed and spluttered, almost choking on her food.
"We're eating Paulie? She exclaimed hysterically.
"Woah," Puck leaned forward, patting her on the back. "Who the hell's Paulie?"
"Paulie the cow!"
He looked at her incredulously. "You named the cow?" he asked, exasperated. He almost wanted to roll his eyes. If she hadn't seemed so genuinely upset, he probably would have.
"No, no," she said, quickly spitting into a napkin. "She told me her name."
Puck gaped at Rachel. She was now on the verge of tears. He could see them stinging her eyes as she tried in vain to blink them away. He couldn't believe how upset she was getting, and he had no fucking clue what to do about it. It only reinforced his thoughts that this chick was fucking crazy.
Don't get him wrong. He was used to crazy. He could handle crazy. You can't grow up in a house with two Jewish women and not be able to handle crazy, not to mention his Nana who lived in a nearby street. So yeah, crazy he could deal with. But his mom, his nana and his sister had never burst into tears over a cow, let alone a cow named "Paulie."
Puck was so focused on Rachel that he didn't see the owner walk up to them with a concerned look on her face.
"Is everything okay?" she asked, almost timidly. "Is there something wrong with the food?"
"No, no," Puck stammered out. "But, er, it's probably best to take this away," he finished, handing her Rachel's plate before whispering to the woman. "Um, do you have anything without meat in it?"
The woman nodded in understanding and quickly disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Er, Rachel..." Puck began, uncertain what to expect. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," she hiccupped, but she refused to look up from the table.
Puck quickly poured her a glass of water and pushed it towards her. "Here, drink this." He said gently.
Rachel accepted the glass and sipped slowly.
"I'm sorry," she apologized sadly, putting her glass back on the table.
"You sure you're okay?" he asked again. "You're not gonna, like, go all hippie on me and start worshipping animals, now, are you?
She paused for a moment and looked at him incredulously. "What?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion, before she continued in a strained voice. "What are you talking about, Noah?"
"Er, nothing," he replied quickly, looking away shiftily. "What I meant to say was, you good?"
She nodded, but she continued to look at him strangely for a moment. "Yes, I'm fine, Noah. Thanks." But he could tell she was lying, and sure enough, her face crumpled again as she reached for another sip of water and she hastily looked away.
He felt like such an idiot. He never was good at saying the right thing, especially when there were crying chicks involved.
"Hey..." he said, trying to sound soothing as he shifted his chair closer to her body, and awkwardly reached his arm out to wrap around her shoulders. "It's okay..."
"No, this is not okay, Noah," she said indignantly, but her words were muffled as she pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder and shaking her head. "I just keep thinking...I don't know how I'm going to live here if I have to kill helpless cows to survive."
Puck rubbed her arm gently, smoothing circles with his thumb. "Nah, it's not like that. Plenty of people don't eat meat. I should've thought to ask first. From now on, I'll know."
Rachel tilted her head to the side and opened her mouth to reply, but just then the woman came back over and placed another burger in front of them.
She smiled at them kindly. "Here, it's a veggie burger."
Puck mouthed a grateful thank you as she returned to the kitchen, pushing the plate closer to Rachel. "Try this instead," he said with a smile. "No meat, this time. I promise."
Rachel smiled half-heartedly before picking up the burger and taking a bite.
It was a while before she spoke again. It felt weird. Ever since she had literally come crashing into his life, she had been bouncing around; she was a non-stop talking ball of energy. Her silence made him feel more uncomfortable that he could have realized.
But he guessed he understood why she was so upset. He struggled for something nice or reassuring to say, but given his bumbling attempts earlier, he thought better of it. Instead, he just sat there with his arm around her shoulders as he took a few bites from his own burger.
"That was rather delicious," Rachel said quietly as she finished her last bite, still refusing to meet Puck's gaze.
"Yeah?" he asked, trying to engage her.
"Yeah..." Rachel sighed. "But I hope I don't have horrible dreams of Paulie coming to take revenge."
Puck stared at her with uncertainty. At first he was sure she was being serious, but then he saw the telltale twitch of her lips and his body relaxed. He smiled at her when she finally looked up at him.
"You probably think I'm crazy don't you?" she asked with a small smile.
Puck laughed, squeezing her shoulder. "Yeah," he teased jokingly. "But I grew up with a lot of crazy in my house, so I'm used to it."
She swatted at his chest playfully, and Puck tried not to wince at the impact, suddenly reminded of the large purple bruised growing beneath his shirt.
"What's wrong?" Rachel asked, a concerned expression overcoming her face.
He was just about to tell her it was nothing when the owner came over again.
"Is everything okay here?" she asked with a friendly smile.
"Yes," Rachel smiled back. "It was delicious."
"Yeah, it was great." Puck agreed.
"Thank you." The woman clapped her hands together gleefully. She turned back to the counter, picking up two paper bags, before facing them again and holding them out. "Here, compliments of the house."
They gladly accepted as Puck took out money to pay for their burgers. "Thanks," he said gruffly.
The ginger-haired woman smiled. "Are you folks from out of town? I haven't seen you around before."
"Yeah," Puck replied. "We're just passing through actually..." Puck's voice trailed off as he realized how long they'd been here.
"Crap!" he exclaimed as he checked his watch, turning frantically back to Rachel. "Fuck, Rachel, the bus!" he yelled pulling Rachel up and running towards the door, shooting a quick apology over his shoulder as they ran out.
As quickly as they could, the pair ran back towards the truck stop, desperate to get back to the bus in time.
But they were too late.
They reached there just in time to see the bus driving off in the distance, leaving a whirl of dust in its wake. Puck groaned as he slumped down on a nearby bench, staring desolately at the cloud of dirt before he closed his eyes, tilting his head back.
"My duffel bag was still on that bus," he said glumly as Rachel took a seat beside him. He opened his eyes to find Rachel looking at him guiltily.
"Noah, this is all my fault." Rachel said apologetically, wringing her hands in her lap nervously as she looked down at them.
He let out a low sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, no worries," he said, though he knew his voice sounded annoyed and abrupt. Not that he was annoyed at her. If anything, he was annoyed at himself for letting this happen. Luckily, it wasn't the end of the world; there would always be another bus.
"I guess we'll just catch the next one." He sighed, grabbing her hand to pull her up. "Come on."
Together they walked into the truck stop, Puck trying to ignore the fact that her hand was still in his as he focused on her uncharacteristic silence. He found that as intense as her constant talking was, he didn't much like the quiet Rachel trailing behind him slightly. He much preferred her lively chatter to her solemn behavior.
Looking around, the place was as desolate and disgusting as he had expected. Up in front sat a man in his early twenties, more engrossed with whatever was on the small portable TV screen than what was happening in the store.
As they approached the guy, Puck cleared his throat trying to get his attention.
"Cash or card?" The attendant asked in a dull monotone, still staring at the TV.
"Er, neither, man," Puck replied, rolling his eyes when the dude still didn't look his way. Not that Puck could blame him. Hell, yesterday, this was him. Only then did it occur to Puck that he hadn't called in to work this morning, which meant he was probably fired. Though knowing Ms. Del Monico, she had probably indignantly called Truman's old address, only to find out all over again that Truman had died two years ago.
But that didn't matter anyway. If this all worked out like he hoped, Puck would never have to step into another Sheets'N'Things ever again.
"Look, dude," Puck said impatiently, waving a hand in front of the attendant's face. "We just wanna know when the next bus to New York will get here."
"All buses along State 80 have been suspended." The guy answered, in the same bored voice. "There's a massive pile up at the border. It's all over the news," he finished pointing to the screen.
Puck leaned over the counter to look at the grainy news bulletin, not noticing Rachel slipping her hand from his. An aerial view of a huge four lane blockage involving two separate buses was on the screen. The weird thing was each bus was at least 10 meters apart from each other. There was no way that the buses had collided. And yet, there they were, rolled on their sides with smoke billowing from them.
"Jesus," Puck whistled in shock.
"Yeah, I know, man. It's totally awesome," the attendant exclaimed, mistaking Puck's shock for awe. "You should've seen the hysteria, man. Some crazy woman was ranting about an evil red blur earlier, saying it was the shadow of the devil. Fucking insane!"
Puck shook his head disbelievingly. "But what 'bout the bus that just left?"
"Got rerouted back to Cleveland." The boy informed him with a shrug, returning back to the carnage.
"So there's nothing?" Puck asked incredulously.
"Nope, man. Nada…"
Puck turned away from the unhelpful attendant, cursing under his breath. He opened his mouth to talk to Rachel when he noticed she wasn't standing beside him anymore. Now, she was standing by the glass sliding doors, staring out at the road while nervously biting her lip.
Puck walked over to her and sighed. "It looks like we're stuck here till tomorrow. Guess we should try and find a place to stay – if there even is a place in this tiny-ass town. I don't remember seeing a motel anywhere when we walked through earlier."
He frowned when Rachel didn't respond. In fact, she didn't even seem to notice him standing there at all. He reached out and shook her shoulder lightly. "Hey…"
She jumped back slightly at his touch, her eyes wide with surprise as her gaze met his.
"N-nothing," she stammered out. "What?" She shrugged Puck's hand away.
Puck looked at her, concerned. "Look if this about the bus, I told you already…"
Rachel laughed unconvincingly, shaking her head. "It's not," she lied. "It's nothing, really."
"Okay, then…" Puck drew out, studying her uncertainly. He had only known her for less than a day, but Puck got the unsettling feeling like she wasn't telling him something. He was torn between saying something and letting it go. As much as he had complained earlier, he found that he really didn't like her like this. A quiet Rachel just seemed weird and unnatural. He watched her as she turned to look out the window again. Something was definitely wrong. She had had no problem talking non-stop in the past twelve hours since he'd met her. The most bizarre twelve hours of his life, but still…
Just as he was about to open his mouth again and push her to tell him what was wrong, she looked around uneasily and quickly said, "We should find a place to stay. There's no telling how long we'll be stuck here, and I'd rather not have to sleep on a bench tonight."
He signed as nodded in agreement. He was still slightly distracted by her odd behavior, but right now, he had other things to worry about, like where the hell they were going to sleep. He made a mental note to push her for an explanation later.
Puck almost turned back to the truck stop attendant to ask for the nearest motel, but the dude was now laughing hysterically at the TV screen, almost doubled over and completely ignoring the beefy trucker staring at him with an annoyed look on his face. Puck rolled his eyes, opting to chance walking through town. The dude hadn't been much help so far; there was no reason to think that would change any time soon. Hell, the way that trucker was steaming at him, the attendant would probably be dead in an alley way before he'd ever be helpful to anyone.
They walked outside again and headed back into town. Rachel slipped her hand through the crook of Puck's arm unconsciously as they walked, still lost in her own little world. Together, they made one lap around the small town with no luck.
Puck signed again, scrubbing one hand over his face in frustration. Suddenly he felt exhausted, even worse than after their earlier trek into Lima. He slumped down on the curb and pulled Rachel to join him.
As she sat, Puck heard the unmistakable sound of rustling paper. He looked around and saw Rachel fiddling with the two paper bags the woman at the deli had handed to them earlier. He had forgotten all about them in his rush to get back to the truck stop.
"What's inside?" he asked, nudging Rachel with his thigh.
She tentatively took a look inside before handing the bags to him. "I don't know," she answered.
Puck held back a chuckle as he accepted the bags, taking a look himself. He almost groaned with delight as the sweet aroma of pastries hit his senses. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a blueberry danish. From the scent alone, he wanted to devour it selfishly and leave none for Rachel, but her intrigued smile and his own messed up sense of good manners stopped him.
"Here," he held the pastry up to her lips and smiled. "Take a bite."
Rachel returned his smile and leaned forward. He tried not to stare at her lips as she did. It was beginning to become a habit, one that he didn't want to think about. Especially since the past twelve or so hours had felt like an eternity, but in a good way. It was definitely … different. Different and unforgettable.
Rachel hummed in satisfaction, her tongue poking out to lick up the stray icing powder on her lips. Puck cleared his throat and looked away, handing Rachel the paper bag before digging into his own.
"These are incredible!" Rachel exclaimed, savoring each bite. "There's definitely no meat in them right? Because I don't know if I could stop eating them even if I wanted to!"
Puck laughed. "No there's no meat. There's just blueberries."
"Well, we should go back and thank them." Rachel said, her mouth half-full. "And maybe they'll know where the town's lodging facilities are."
Puck's head bobbed in agreement. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. The woman had been kind to them earlier, and maybe they'd be able to get some more of these blueberry danishes. "Sure."
A short while later, after they'd both licked the sugary icing from their fingers, they entered "The Midnight Schue" once more.
The young red-headed woman appeared from the behind the counter, smiling brightly. When she recognized their faces, she paused and frowned. "Oh, did you miss your bus?" she asked, concerned.
"Yeah," Puck replied, nodding his head. "So we just thought we'd come back to thank you properly for the danishes."
The woman nodded happily. "Did you like them?" she asked excitedly. When Rachel and Puck both nodded, she clapped her hands together softly and did a little dance, swaying from side to side. The woman turned her head slightly and called out behind her, "Will! Will! They liked them!"
The curly haired man stepped out of the back room and approached them. "That's great, sweetheart." He said chuckling lightly, before turning to Puck and Rachel, offering his hand. "Hi. As you probably heard, I'm Will. Will Schuester."
They introduced themselves as they shook his hand, and learned that Will and his wife, Emma, had only recently opened up this deli; a small dream of theirs. Puck also proceeded to explain to them how they had missed their bus and all the schedule cancellations.
Will nodded his head thoughtfully. "Yeah, I heard about that on the news. Frightening stuff," he said, wrapping one arm around his wife's waist and pulling her a little closer, almost like he was afraid she'd disappear.
"So, we were just wondering," Rachel began. "If you could point us in the direction of your town's accommodation facilities, it would be greatly appreciated."
Will and Emma both cringed, sharing a brief glance.
"Um, guys," Will began, apologetically. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but Resol doesn't have any accommodations." Puck closed his eyes and sighed inwardly. He'd been afraid of that. "No one ever wants to stay here," Will continued explaining. "It's so small that people pass by it every day without really noticing."
Rachel's hand curled around Puck's and tugged lightly. "What are we gonna do, Noah?"
He turned his head to look at her worried face. She looked at him as if he had all the answers, like he could fix anything and everything. He felt a hollow sinking feeling in his stomach, as if he had already disappointed her. He had one job, and that was to get her to New York. How had he failed already?
He faced Will and Emma once again and asked, "Do you know how far the closest town is? Maybe we could walk there or something?" Puck really didn't like the prospect of walking again, especially now in the late afternoon summer heat, but what choice did they have?
Will and Emma exchanged glances, Will's forehead creased thoughtfully. "How about this instead, guys," he began. "You can stay with us."
Rachel's eyes opened wide and she shook her head. "Oh, no. We couldn't dream of trespassing on your hospitality. You've been so kind to us already."
Puck wanted to agree, but he couldn't. Staying with the Schuesters was probably a better option than taking another long trek along a dusty highway, searching for a place to stay; the only option, really.
"Don't be silly," Emma shook her head vigorously. "We'd love to have you! The nearest town isn't for miles. There's no sense walking in this heat. I mean, our home isn't big since we live above this shop, but we've got a nice fold-out couch that we use when we do have visitors. It should do nicely."
Puck and Rachel both opened their mouths to protest, but Will cut them off.
"There's no sense arguing, guys." He said with a wide smile. "Once the Missus has made up her mind, there really is no changing it."
Emma nodded in agreement.
Puck looked at Rachel and silently asked her what she thought. The beaming smile said it all. And before either of them could open their mouths, Will said, "Great, then it's settled."
Emma clapped excitedly and pulled Rachel towards her.
"Excellent, you can help me make some raspberry jam. It's always more fun having another woman around to talk to."
Puck couldn't stop the smile as Rachel nodded eagerly and followed. "Sounds fun! But, what is jam?"
.-.
A short while later, Puck found himself sitting at the long table in Will and Emma's shop, nursing a beer while watching Rachel help Emma. He used the word "help" very liberally because she had probably eaten more raspberries than had actually gone into the jam.
Will sat beside him while he drank, and it might misogynistic and old-fashioned, but Puck kind of liked sitting back and watching as the women moved about behind the counter. Or rather, he liked to watch Rachel. In fact, he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her.
"At the rate you're going, Rachel, there's not gonna be any left," he teased.
They all laughed as Rachel twitched her nose playfully before popping another in her mouth and savoring the taste of yet another berry. He continued watching her, sort of dazzled by her. Yes, he used the word "dazzled". It was the most appropriate word. She almost seemed like she was glowing, until Puck realized… she was glowing. It was very faint, no more than the slightest shine. If she hadn't shown him earlier, he might not have recognized it. But it was growing stronger with each passing second.
Throwing a quick glance at both Will and Emma to check they hadn't noticed anything, Puck cleared his throat surreptitiously and caught Rachel's eye. In a blink, the shine was gone. She looked at him with a sheepish smile. Puck was just glad that neither of the Schuesters seemed to notice. They were too caught up with what they were doing; Emma with her cooking, and Will with his watching Emma cook.
They seemed like genuinely nice people; simple and happy. What Puck couldn't really understand was why they would open a shop in the middle of nowhere. They seemed like smart people. Will had told them that they both used to be teachers at a high school in New York. So why move to a practically deserted town to open up a deli? Puck and Rachel had already been there for hours, and not a single other customer had walked through that door.
He turned and glanced at Will, his own toothy grin wide on his face as he watched the ladies.
"What's on your mind, Puck?" Will asked when he noticed Puck's inquisitive stare, his tone light and inviting.
"Er…" Puck began hesitantly, unsure how to ask without sounding like a complete and total jackass.
Will smiled again in understanding. "You're wondering what we're doing out here, aren't you?"
Puck continued looking at him, nodding apologetically. "It just seems weird, ya know?"
Will sighed. "Emma had some problems in New York." He said, his voice filled with regret. "Things got… dangerous. For both her and her students. So we decided to leave."
"But why move to the smallest bum town on the face of the planet?" Puck asked incredulously, trying his best not to sound like a jerk. "Even if she was having troubles with students, it wasn't really a reason to move to a nothing town like Resol."
Will sighed again, offering Puck a strained smile. "It's just safer that way. It's better that there are less people around. You know how guys often say women get cranky at 'that' time of the month? Well, let's just say for my wife, it couldn't be more true."
Puck stared at Will in confusion, still not quite understanding. He felt like Will was talking in riddles.
He took Will's silence to mean that he didn't really feel like explaining further, but Puck knew there was definitely more to the story. He decided not to continue pressing for information. It didn't feel right to pry further. He's not even sure he should have asked in the first place. The whole conversation irked him.
Puck took a long swig of his beer, asking as he set it down, "Do you miss it? I mean, packing up your life and moving must be hard…"
Will shot him another sad, resigned glance. "Sometimes, but circumstances being what they are, I wouldn't have done it any differently." He turned his head to look at Emma. "I would do anything for her. I mean, you're doing the same for Rachel, right? It's what you do for the one you love."
It only then occurred to Puck that Will and Emma thought he and Rachel were together. Like, together together.
He opened his mouth to correct Will, but just at that moment the girls squealed and a loud thud sounded, followed by Emma calling out to Will. "Sweetie! We need your help!"
Fearing the worst, they both rushed to see what was wrong; concern etched on both their faces. But as they rounded the bench, all they saw was Rachel sprawled on the ground, surrounded by raspberries, and empty overturned box lying beside her.
The funny thing is that Rachel didn't seem to care in the slightest or seem even a little bit distressed, smiling up at them as she lay prone on the floor.
.-.
Puck didn't know why he felt nervous as he followed Emma up to the apartment. He knew he should probably point out that they, in fact, weren't a relationship, but the words caught in his throat. He could feel his heart racing, and his hands sweating. It was like he was a thirteen year old boy again, discovering how much he liked the way Demi Delmarco look in a bathing suit.
"It isn't much," Emma said kindly as they entered the Schuester's living room. "But it's home."
Puck and Rachel looked at the fold-out couch gratefully. "It's perfectly fine," Rachel said enthusiastically. "My first bed."
Emma shot Rachel a peculiar smile when Puck jumped in quickly, "She means the first bed she's slept in other than her own."
Rachel chuckled nervously. "Yes, of course, of course. That's what I mean. I've always firmly believed in having a good place to rest you head, wipe away the misfortune of the day and begin anew. This is perfect."
If Emma thought they were acting strangely, she didn't show it. She just seemed to accept the response because she just nodded, smiled and headed to get some linens out of a nearby closet.
"Well, the guest bathroom is to the left. The hot water is very temperamental. And don't flush the toilet if anyone else is showering." She advised. "Rachel, if you want something to wear to bed, follow me."
Puck watched as the two women walked away, disappearing into what he assumed was the master bedroom. Will walked out a few minutes later holding out sweat pants and shirt. "Here, you go, Puck. You'll probably be more comfortable in these."
Puck thanked him, which the older guy simply waved off before he headed towards the bedroom.
Puck walked over to the bathroom and quickly changed. Just as he was tugging the shirt over his bruised chest, his phone rang and he cringed when he saw the caller ID. He had completely forgotten to check in with his mom.
"Hey ma," he said, bracing himself for the explosion.
"Noah Puckerman!" her voice shouted at him through the phone. He had to move it away from his ears as she ranted, her voice ringing out clear as day. "Just what do you think you're doing? Disappearing in the middle of the night, and leaving the door wide open! And what did you do to my kitchen table?"
"Wait, what ma? What are you talking about?" he tried unsuccessfully to interrupt her nonsensical tirade, but nothing could deter her.
He struggled for the next few minutes to understand what his mom was yelling about. He caught snippets here and there about tables and never giving her any Jewish babies, but he couldn't really decipher what was going on behind the babble.
"Wait, ma…." A soft knock at the door interrupted his train of thought and Puck rushed out quietly, "Uh, ma, I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow."
He hung up without waiting for a reply and stepped out, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his sweat shirt. He always hated sleeping in clothes. He looked up just in time to stop himself from walking straight into Rachel.
"Oh, sorry." He apologized, looking down at her. He found himself smirking at the blush coloring her cheeks.
"It's okay," Rachel mumbled before sliding past him and closing the door. A few moments later, he heard the water running, and he couldn't help but smile. Hopefully she'd have more success tonight than she'd had that morning.
Puck busied himself, pulling out the sofa-bed and fitting it with the sheets. He had just come back from the kitchen with two glasses of water when he heard Rachel emerge from the bathroom.
He gulped as he looked at her. She had indeed managed to shower properly this time, but seeing her standing there, her damp hair hanging around her face and in a long white nightgown, it just did something to him. Suddenly, he didn't think them sharing a bed was such a good idea. He had reasoned earlier that there was no sense in making a fuss about the two of them sleeping in the same bed; he could keep his hands to himself, even if it was going to be really fucking difficult.
But now, he thought otherwise as his eyes slowly roamed her body. It wasn't even like she was naked or anything. But he could see the shadow of her form through the material of the gown, and her wet hair triggered memories from that morning when she had entered his room drenched from head to toe, her silver dress clinging to every curve of her body, and her nipples pressing against the material as she shivered uncontrollably. It had been so hard to not reach out and just pull her towards him, pressing his lips (and body) against hers until she was moaning his name. It was hard now. In every sense of the word.
He groaned inwardly and shook the images out of his head, forcing himself to return the present. Rachel looked just as nervous as he felt, one hand clutching the opposite arm.
"Er," Puck said, making a snap decision that he would probably regret in the morning. "I'll take the floor."
"You don't have to…" she began, but Puck cut her off.
"It's probably for the best. I'm used to having the bed to myself. I'd probably end up pushing you off or something," he lied. He had shared many a bed with many women before, but she didn't need to know that. He just knew if he put himself in such a tempting position, he'd probably have her flat on her back, his hands between her thighs (at the very least) before the night was out.
"Oh, okay then…" Rachel replied, not meeting Puck's gaze. He would have liked to say that he heard a hint of disappointment in her voice, but that was probably just hopeful hearing.
Puck nodded, plucking one of the pillows and blankets off the couch and laying them on the floor. It felt hard underneath his back, a little more than stone covered with carpet, but he pushed himself to endure.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound as he heard the rustle of sheets as Rachel got into bed. He did not need to add the thought of Rachel in a bed to his fantasies right now. (Not that they weren't already there.)
She is a star, you are her guide became the mantra running through his head as he lay there. Nothing more than her guide. He tried to move as little as possible, fearing that every movement would lead to him jumping up and joining her.
He could hear her soft even breathing in the silence. Just as he thought she'd fallen asleep, she spoke, her voice so quiet, barely above whisper. "Noah?" she asked sleepily.
"Yeah?" he replied, his voice slightly hoarse.
"I'm sorry about today. About us missing the bus." She yawned as she finished the sentence.
Puck smiled. "It's no big deal, Rachel. I actually had fun. It's been weird but fun…"
Rachel hummed in agreement, and Puck found his eyes drooping. He fell asleep with a smile on his lips, and perhaps if had been sleeping next to her, he'd have seen that she had, too.
.-.
A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to read and review :) I got a little worried after the first chapter when the response seemed to dwindle and I thought maybe this idea was just too bizarre for people to get on board with. lol. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.