A/N: Thank you for all of the positive reviews for Anything. I really enjoyed writing a bit of smut, and I thought I'd take another shot at it here. This one takes place the night before/morning of Sectionals. I tried to write in Puck's head a little although I'm not sure how convincing it is. Throwbacks to Anything: a two-shot of sorts. Let me know what you think! Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the songs mentioned in this fiction: merely the baby laptop upon which this story was written.
Noah Puckerman doesn't do virgins, and Rachel Berry was just that, which frustrated the hell out of him because ever since the day everyone found out about his baby drama and he had gone over to Rachel's house to talk/vent/get a blow job he couldn't get her out of his damn head. His masturbation count had nearly doubled with the thought of getting her off again/watching her get herself off and his wrist was actually beginning to hurt for the first time in four years.
Puck lay in his bed, which used to bring him immense pleasure, until the day before, and thought about what the fuck had become of his life. He had managed to lose his best friend and any relationship with Quinn in roughly two class periods (or as he liked to think, two hours sleeping in the nurse's office), and it was all Rachel Berry's fault (and his and Quinn's). If she hadn't have opened her damn mouth (which was pretty excellent at other things) and blew his and Quinn's cover, everyone would be much better off. He was just starting to make headway with Q again (did you see how fast he reacted to that fall during practice? Fucking lightning.) and Finn was none the wiser. As a matter of fact the only good that might have come of the whole thing would be Rachel falling into Finn's pants and him de-virgin-izing the Queen of the Gleeks (after which Puck would take advantage of her…situation). But something good actually did happen, and Puck got some play even after his life had crashed down around him, solidifying his title as God of Sex.
***
He couldn't decide the night before whether he should meet the bus for Sectionals before or after everyone else, as to avoid the most chit chat about the recent developments in the William McKinley Baby Drama case file (aka Babygate), but it seemed that his body made the decision for him because he definitely woke up to the thought of Rachel Berry and his hand under the sheets at 6:30am: he chose before.
Glancing at the alarm on the desk next to his bed, Puck rolled out from under the covers, put on a pair of boxers, and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for Sectionals. He chanced a look into the mirror and mentally commended Finn (and Rachel) for the fucking huge purplish-orange bruise on his right cheek. There was no way in hell people weren't going to notice that. Puck got his things together, pulled on his lucky leather jacket (because they'd need all the help they could get without Finn), and was out the door before his mom and sister had woken up for the day (Saturdays were the only days his mom had off from work, and his sister would sleep till noon).
***
Puck drove the ten minutes from his house to the high school and parked his truck alongside the only other vehicle in the lot. They weren't due to leave for the Buckeye Civic Auditorium for another hour and a half and the bus wouldn't get there till 8:15. Unsurprisingly, the other car belonged to Rachel Berry which Puck knew because he could hear Don't Stop Believing: the Rachel Berry Sing-Along Addition, blasting through her car and into his. Puck just sat in his truck until the song had ended, staring at Rachel until she opened her eyes and looked over into the truck keeping her car company.
Rachel nearly had a conniption at the sight of Noah Puckerman in the next car over, laughing at her "ending-note-face" (which looked rather familiar). Rachel closed her mouth as Puck opened his door and crossed to her side of the car. He gave her a smirk as she clambered out of her car, and before Puck had a chance to make a snide comment the track switched to Walking on Sunshine/Halo, the song blaring from Rachel's speakers. Rachel and Puck jumped a little at the abrupt change of song, and Rachel put a knee up on the driver's seat so she could reach in to turn down the volume: she managed to give Puck a pretty good look up her dress, too.
When she flipped around to face him again he had to shift a little to hide the stirring in his loins, but before he had a chance to feel guilty (read: trap her between his mouth and her car door), she had caught sight of the God-awful bruise on his face and gasped. She immediately disappeared again into her car, and fumbled in the oversized duffle in the backseat, mumbling about Vitamin C or some shit. Considering the vehicle only had two doors, Puck was afforded another lovely glimpse in between the legs of Rachel Berry as she twisted her body around the driver's seat. She huffed a little when she finally extracted herself from the car, and Puck just shook his head, amazed that she wasn't more careful with herself, but shooting a thank you to whatever gods happened to give him such an extended peek at Rachel's goods.
"I assumed you would neglect to attend to the bruising, and I planned ahead and brought some Vitamin C crème for your face," Rachel explained, tube in hand. Puck really wasn't too surprised that she carried that stuff around considering she probably got bruises from all of the flouncing she did on a daily basis, still though, a little part of him liked to think it was because she actually cared, the same part that thought to grab the jacket half an hour ago for good luck. She was still prattling on, something about helping the swelling and extra makeup so it wouldn't look so obvious on stage…it didn't matter though because as soon as Rachel began to reach forward (she had a huge dollop of that crème on her fingers), Puck grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, mouths colliding, the Vitamin C a smear on the pavement beside them.
Rachel only protested a moment because she was caught a bit off guard; she had been hoping they would do this…whatever this was…again, but she wasn't quite expecting it so soon. After a beat, Rachel let Puck further explore her mouth, his tongue brushing the backside of her teeth; Puck tasted like toothpaste and mouthwash, and Rachel was happy to note that so far she enjoyed Puck much better in the mornings because he tasted considerably better than after school. They basked in the sensation of early morning kisses, and Rachel leaned (read: fell unceremoniously…damn slippery crème) into Puck, effectively trapping him against the passenger side door to his truck.
Puck let out an oomph as the door handle imbedded itself in between his shoulder blades, "Jesus, Berry, you trying to make me your fucking punching bag?" She stammered a "Sorry," but Puck smirked and reached behind him to open the offending door, "Don't be," he said and hoisted the two of them into his truck, thanking the gods once again that he took into consideration future use of his truck when choosing one with a bench seat. Puck pulled Rachel on top of him and let her get her bearings while he adjusted himself underneath her.
Rachel was pretty sure this was going to end up like yesterday, but she had no intentions of stopping Puck as he scooted them further into his truck, slamming the door with his foot hooked under the inside handle. He propped himself against the driver's side door and reached to slide the downright ugly red jacket from Rachel's shoulders. The dress underneath was actually kind of normal for Rachel's standards, but Puck really only cared to see it join the rest of the crap in the floorboard of his truck, red jacket included.
***
Puck figured they had about a half hour's worth of hot Jew sex before the bus arrived, and yeah, Puck didn't do virgins ergo no actual sex, but anything was better than nothing, and the way Rachel was wiggling against his jeans made Puck want to shatter the tiny moral compass that existed somewhere in the back of his mind. His hands made their way down Rachel's sides, resting on her hips, grinding her back and forth against him. Apparently something about this girl made dry-humping acceptable because Puck was pretty close to getting off on the friction alone.
Puck almost grunted when Rachel stopped moving with him, until she reached down, unbuttoning his jeans and slid them to his knees (boxers included). The movement was a little tricky because Rachel had to reach behind herself to do it, but Puck didn't care because the sight of his exposed erection trapped between Rachel Berry's thighs was just too fucking perfect. He reached up, cupping her face in his hands and brought her lips down to meet his own. Rachel let her tongue dance across Puck's as his hands made a slow pursuit down her neck, shoulders, sides, and around to the small of her back. He made little circles across the fabric of her dress until his fingers went numb. Rachel sighed into the kiss, her mind content to stay with Puck like this forever until she let her thoughts wonder to Quinn, and the baby, and Finn and Sectionals, and she almost lost the rush until Puck moved his hands under her skirt to grab her ass, under her panties. She moaned into him, right back in the thick of things, and moved her right hand between them to stroke his erection; she balanced with her left hand on the backrest of the bench seat.
Puck groaned at the first contact: he was enjoying himself entirely too much, and one-sided pleasure was never his style, so he reached his right hand down further, under her panties, to the soft folds of her core while he braced her with his left hand on her hip. Puck moved his fingers expertly into Rachel's softness, moving her panties out of his way; she was wet and it was easier to slip his fingers inside. Rachel moaned with Puck as their fingers made quick work of their desperate bodies. In moments Rachel was shuddering against Puck, the muscles in her legs twitching in time with her breathing. She had stopped stroking him, but had managed to find the perfect spot on his erection to ride out her orgasm, and Puck was well aware that he was one good thrust away from solving her virgin problem, but he held back and focused on the feeling of her slide across him, and the image of her with her head thrown back, eyes open, but not seeing, and she made that face like the one yesterday, and the one in her car, and he fucking lost it. He came in sticky spurts while Rachel relaxed in her own bliss, and covered his stomach where his shirt rode up during their little fiasco.
Rachel leaned down to kiss Puck again, and he sat up, not breaking the kiss, but reaching with his left hand into the passenger side floorboard for the napkins he had left over from the multitude of fast food he ate. He pulled away from Rachel with a few quick kisses before cleaning himself off. Rachel's lips were swollen and she was feeling a little groggy.
Once clean, Puck pulled down his shirt, threw the dirty napkins behind the seat, and handed Rachel her jacket. She smiled as she slipped her arms through the sleeves, the sounds of No Air wafted faintly from Rachel's car. "We really need to cover up your bruise, there's no way I will allow you to get up in front of all of Ohio looking like you just got into some bar fight," Rachel said, ignoring the unspoken questions between them: namely what the hell they were doing fraternizing in his truck of all places. "Berry, I highly doubt all of Ohio has scheduled their lives around a fucking high school Glee Club competition. Besides, half of it's your fault anyway," Puck shot back, Rachel's cheeks warming at the mention of yesterday afternoon. "Regardless of whose fault the swelling can be attributed, I insist on covering that atrocious bruise," Rachel stated in a huff, and she climbed off of Puck's lap, down the step of his truck and back into her car, while Puck sat in the same spot trying to make head or tail of what she insisted was the English language.
***
In the ten minutes before the rest of New Directions (minus Finn, plus Ms. Pillsbury and Jacob Ben-Israel—creeper) arrived to meet the bus, Rachel managed to employ all of her previous stage makeup experience into hiding the bruise on Puck's cheek. She was rambling on and on about Sectionals and choreography and a bunch of other shit that Puck wasn't really paying attention to because in that moment, as Rachel dabbed more pancake onto his face, Puck realized that Rachel was the kind of person who would do anything for anyone, and while she was beyond chatty and grating at times, he could count on her because her heart was always in the right place.
And then he mentally kicked himself in the ovaries that he inevitably inherited from his previous thoughts. Fucking pussy.