A/N: Thanks to Lizzie (Paceismyhero) for the pool party prompt that I turned into housesitting. Hope this cures your badly busy work/life. Or you know, distracts you for a second. The song that inspired it was the super dirty 1000 Julys by Third Eye Blind that even Stephan Jenkins himself could only say was about "doing naughty things". Thanks to Laura (tjcrowfoot) for the justification it took to put off household chores and get the majority of this written out. Thanks to everyone who still loves this story and hasn't forgotten about it and is returning to read more.


Get It Fired Up

So when he said he had major plans for the Fourth of July (which so happened to be the weekend she felt about a thousand times better than she had in forever), he had no idea it would fall into his lap in quite the way it did. He wasn't being literal or anything, it had just sort of happened.

He was also not going to complain, and he thought it might be some kind of a record. Then again, he'd never really had so little to complain about, either. It was hard to complain about housesitting for one of his former pool customers (an no, she wasn't one of the ones he'd fucked…she was one of the few he actually, y'know liked), in a house that could only be described as fucking paradise, and having his super-hot girlfriend…well…

Rachel was currently in his lap, bobbing up and down in time with the rock music playing throughout the house—on the thing that was like an iHome on an intercom and he'd managed to avoid telling Rachel is was because Mrs. Finkhauser loved to pipe in showtunes—and it was not the first time in the last two days they'd been in exactly this position. The best thing about it all was that they'd been completely honest with both sets of parents (her idea, definitely not his) and they had still let them come.

More than once.

Again, not that he was complaining—or really even telling. The only person that really needed to know all about it was, well, doing it to him.

"God, baby…" he muttered, his lips tracing along her throat where she'd tossed her head back as he hit that spot inside her that made her whine. It was deep enough he had to press his hips all the way against her and she had to be sitting just so over him and in a chair. But they'd figured that out once and the only time it had been better was in the office chair in her room because it bounced.

For all the things (counters, doorways, huge showers, a swimming pool, a hot tub) he wanted to take advantage of in the house, it seemed like maybe the only thing missing was her desk chair. Everything else he could ever need was here.

"What? I missed you, Noah," she gasped out. She dropped her head to smile at him, their faces even as she kept moving against him. He reached a hand up and brushed a sweaty clump of hair from her forehead.

"I was there all the time."

"Mmm," she murmured. "I know you were." Her hair danced around his shoulders as they ground frantically against each other and he barely had time to question how she could be sweating and just so hot in a house with central air. Then again, he did it to her, so again he wasn't complaining. He had to really focus to hear her next, breathless words, though. "But it wasn't like this and this is how I say thank you."

He grinned as she grinned, too. "I really, really fucking love the way you show your appreciation." His voice dropped down to a lower growl. "I guess I should thank you the best way I know how."

"You're going to thank me for thanking you?"

"I think I've created a fuckin' monster," he said, letting his hand tickle down her side. He didn't miss the way she shifted her posture ever so slightly. It had two effects—she pressed down against him harder and it made his eyes roll back into his head a little; and second, it let him press his thumb to her clit, that was just as wet at the rest of her but probably at least twice as swollen. She threw her head back again and let his name out like it was some kind of a squeal. The only time she truly lost rhythm was when she was coming so hard she couldn't see, and as she began to roll against him more than slamming down like she had been, he knew what was going on. Plus, she was so tight he could feel it everywhere and even though it was the third time they'd done this today (technically the fifth for her and he was totally going to demand they watch the fireworks at Lima Municipal from the hot tub tonight if for no other reason than to avoid returning her to her dads walking funny), he was not far behind her and he dropped his mouth to her chest and sucked on the supple flesh of her breast, tasting the tangy salt from their sweat all over her. It was something he'd never been particularly crazy about before, but with her it was something he couldn't get enough of; she finally took his ears under her palms to push him away from her skin.

"So…perhaps I was hearing things, but did I hear you refer to me as a monster?" She asked. She was already walking away from him, stumbling like she was a little drunk. It looked like she was on her way to the kitchen and, presumably, for a little skinny dipping.

The other good news about these kinds of places? Two words: privacy fence.

He caught up to her easily and walked awkwardly right behind her, enjoying the feeling of her back rubbing against his chest as they strolled through the dining room they had been in. "Mmm," he murmured. He kissed her shoulder and licked his lips while they were still next to her skin. She turned her head as he smiled against something. "Maybe s'more like an animal."

She tossed her head back and laughed, so carefree in that moment he wanted to pin her to the wall again. For all the things he loved about her (that he wasn't saying out loud just now 'cause they'd gone way overboard on the cheesy and lovey stuff lately, fuck you very much), one of his favorite things by far was how much fun she was when it was just the two of them. Even when she was all mopey and barely sleeping after her surgery, they still managed to have a mostly good time together. And playing house with her was not nearly as bad as he had maybe thought it would be.

The thought scared the living fuck out of him, but then again…they had another a year left of high school before any of that was even worth thinkin' about. And it was going to be a damn good time getting there, he thought. As much as he wasn't an out-in-public sorta relationship guy, they were at a good point in their relationship because she would be like this with him.

"Well, I am hungry," she admitted. She stopped in front of the fridge, which meant he kinda tripped into her 'cause she wasn't expecting him to be there and she bent over abruptly.

"I thought you were gonna go swim," he said, pushing his hand against the freezer door and then hissing when his body slumped into contact with the cool metal.

"I was," she replied. It sounded like she had more to say. He drummed out a pattern on her lower back as she stooped down to the vegetable crisper drawer in the bottom. She grabbed the bag of carrots and stood back up. "You're going to have to clean her pool before we leave."

He shrugged and reached in around her to get a can of root beer. "I was already plannin' on it."

She looked at him doubtfully. "Does she have another pool cleaner since your mom won't let you do that anymore? Or is there something I should know about the water I've been swimming in?"

He shot her a not amused glance, and even though her voice was stern, it was hard to be annoyed with her when she was innocently crunching on a carrot.

"No. I know you and you're anal as fuck, so I cleaned the pool and the hot tub and at least half the house before you got here."

"I thought you just napped and drank a beer through my voice lesson before I came over," she commented easily.

The beer part was true, but he didn't necessarily feel the overwhelming need to just confirm what she already knew anyway. He just shook his head. "No. I had to make this house fit for a queen."

"Vomiting will supposedly damage my stitches," she said, tilting her head and gliding past him. Apparently she (she of the grand romantic gestures, the love ballads, and longing glances) had grown tired of their loving sickness during her recovery, too.

He gave a heavy chuckle and didn't mention those stitches had dissolved a while ago. "Then what the fuck will deep-throating do them 'cause…"

She shot him a dirty look. Well, it was at least two kinds of dirty. It kinda reminded him they were both still naked and how he couldn't wait to get her into the pool.

"I guess we won't find out again," she tossed over her shoulder as she moved outside through the French doors that let out to a stone patio and the pool area. She tossed the small bag of carrots on the table in the middle of the patio set and kept walking without looking back. He, on the other hand, hung back and watched her walk.

Had he mentioned she was naked in the last three seconds? Because his appreciation for it was checking in basically right on time. His phone rang from the kitchen counter and he groaned because that had been one of his mom's rules about staying here for almost a week with no real supervision: she called, he answered. No matter what.

He sighed. He should've given his mom her own ringtone when he got his new phone a couple days ago; he was normally all over that shit. But okay, you couldn't just expect him to have normal brain function when his dick function had all but disappeared once he'd gotten used to regular sex. And now… well, now he needed to recover in different ways. But it was worth it.

"Go for Puck," he answered with his usual greeting. They had been trying for at least a little discretion with their weekend; after all, it wasn't very badass to spend a huge holiday like Independence Day being all tied down. It should be about minimal clothing, a couple different kinds of wet, some fireworks, and lots of booze—just usually with more than one other person.

He leaned over just a little bit where he could see Rachel executing a perfect dive into the pool. So there was basically nothing wrong with what he was doing. He had his bases covered (condoms were basically like a never-ending free gift to him from lots of people since Quinn and… well, whatever, fuck them. They didn't need to know he still had to buy them sometimes because it's not like he'd stopped having sex altogether)…and his girlfriend was not covered and in the pool so he was going to make this call quick.

"Hey, dude," Mike said. "Where the hell are you? Hudson's doing some barbecue thing for most of Glee and like a third of Dalton."

"I'm…umm…" (Rachel had just sprawled out to float on her back. He was a little distracted.) "I'm out of town."

"You are?"

"Sorta," he said. Outta town… right on the edge of town at the bluffs up on the hill…same thing.

"And are you alone or do you need some bro code cover?"

"No, I…"

Rachel's phone chimed—a chime instead of a ringtone. He would have to look into that. It was way less obvious. Might prevent the problem of having to answer his mom's call when they were in the middle of…well…it had just been awkward and he wasn't gonna think about that any more.

He pulled his phone down and covered the speaker with his hand. "Hey babe, you're phone's ringin'."

She righted herself in the water and it looked like she was going to ask him to answer it but then decided to just..y'know.. kill him by exiting the water smoothly and walking right to the doorjamb. He held her phone out to her as Mike was still laughing his understanding.

"What the fuck is so amusing, Chang?"

"Nothing, I just… well, how is Rachel feeling? Is she back to her usual volume?"

"She's good," he said simply. All right, sometimes he couldn't keep himself from sounding like that and he liked to think the guys were getting used to it 'cause they didn't tease him about it. Besides, of all the guys he could forget to be indifferent in front of, it was Mike. Mike was about five kinds of sappy when it came to his girl, and he kinda looked the other way if Puck did that, too.

(And it also meant Mike had helped him find ways to … occupy himself… while Rachel was laid up. He could only come up with so much to do to help her before his antagonistic nature kicked in and he wanted to bug her. Instead, he'd called Mike and Mike had been a real bro, constantly telling him ways to act against that nature and avoid pissing her off. Shit like soy ice cream was not up his alley.)

Meanwhile, Rachel had missed Finn's call and she called him back, shivering a little and huddling together as she stood in the shade, still dripping wet from her too-brief swim. Puck saw her nipples tighten and the goosebumps standing out on her arms and he closed his eyes with a groan.

"Hey, Rach," Finn answered.

"Hey, what's going on?" She said, trying not to let her teeth chatter. It was nearly ninety degrees outside and shivering just would not do.

"Barbecue," he replied. "Please tell me you don't have plans because Kurt made this mostly Warblers and… well, we just really need some girls to balance it out."

"Santana can't do that on her own?"

"Well…no. You should come. There will be fireworks," he said. "We can light off the ones that shoot up in the air this year."

"Well thank you for the invitation. It sounds exciting, but I'm going to pass this time," she said. "Sorry."

"Well…I mean, are you still…"

She knew Finn (specifically) and the other Glee members (somewhat) had been engaging in more summer activities this year than they had last year. It was not the first phone call they'd gotten concerning her recovery or their (hers and Noah's combined) absence. But she generally hadn't been feeling up to company and had been marginally embarrassed by the fact she could drift off to sleep at a moment's notice. She was relieved to be sleeping better and getting back to her old self, but she was surprised to admit she mostly wanted to share that newfound energy with Noah.

She glanced away and briefly let her eyes roam over the guy, who was muttering words she couldn't hear into his phone. Oh.

He was naked. And it was pretty obvious he knew she was naked. He had a fairly predictable response to that, especially given they had 'cooled it down' the last few weeks. She looked down at herself and realized why he was having the reaction he was having. She couldn't ignore the rush of desire—the insane rush of desire—that flowed unchecked through her, rocking her all the way down into the pit of her stomach. She needed to get off the phone.

But she understood what Finn was saying, and honestly? She wasn't above using it for an 'out'.

"Yeah, kind of," she said.

"You sound a lot better."

"I am in that respect, but I wasn't sleeping all that well," she excused, biting her lip again. (Which, for the record, kind of made Puck want to mount her in the doorway. He turned his eyes away from her.)

"Oh," he said. He was one of those guys that understood the need for a proper amount of rest, so she was playing to the right audience and she knew it. "Okay, well Mike is calling on the other line so I'll let you get back to it. Call me if you change your mind."

I won't. I'll have to find a way to make it up to you later, she thought. It wasn't that she felt bad exactly, but…she could've sworn Noah was on the phone with Mike.

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye," he said quickly and then he was gone. Puck had put his phone back down on the counter, then replaced hers too so she didn't have to come into the house dripping wet, and was looking at her like she was a steak and he'd been fasting.

Neither of which were true, but she met his gaze back the same way because she knew how he felt.

She wanted him like he wanted her.

She tried not to smile. "So what'd Mike have to say?"

He shrugged and took a pull from his root beer. "Probably 'bout the same as Finn. Barbecue we ain't goin' to tonight."

Rachel nodded. "And what reason did Mike possibly have for calling Finn, then? Mike obviously had all the details on the barbecue."

"Oh, what? Mike's my boy."

She couldn't repress her laughter any longer. "Oh, really? Do we need to invite him over, too?"

"No," he said firmly. "That's not how I roll and you know it. Plus, I'm not really allowed to have more than…well…"

"Mrs. Finkhauser doesn't know I'm here, does she?"

"She said I could have a friend or two over. S'what she told my mom, too. I don't think she needs to know what kinda pool party we're having." He glanced at her, giving her an obvious leering and once over, with the raised eyebrow and everything. She shivered again, and this time it had nothing to with being in the shade.

She abruptly broke the eye contact by turning to run to the pool and dive in.

He was right behind her, matching step for step and somehow managing a parallel dive that brought him right up behind her as he snaked an arm around her waist and dragged her against him.

"You're so fucking hot it's ridiculous," he growled before he turned his face and pressed his lips to her neck.

"What are you gonna do about it?" She asked, her eyes fluttering closed under his persistent kiss in just the right spot.

"Hmm," he murmured carefully, considering his options. He left one hand on her hip, squeezing her warm skin, while he pulled her closer and reached the other down. She let her legs float up to give him access and he streaked two fingers over her slit, letting them dip down into her as she pressed her ass against him again.

Legit, he wasn't sure he would be able to walk if they fucked again this quick. Then again, they were in the pool so… as long as he didn't drown, who cared? He wanted her to scream his name again. He was kind of addicted to that sound, both because it was her voice and because of the way it was going down.

Going down. Hmm.

He abruptly pulled out then turned her around and lifted her up onto the black-tiled edge of the pool. Without saying a word or asking permission, he lifted both her feet up onto the tile and pressed his mouth where his fingers had been. She leaned back on her hands, then brought one forward against the back of his head, holding him just still enough she could move against his face.

He wasn't exactly sure where she got the muscle strength to actually thrust against him, but he let himself eat like he was starving until she laid all the way back. He let his fingers drift over her thighs, still dripping cool water from the pool, and he brought a handful of the water up to dribble over the area he was drinking from. Her hands went up to her own nipples and he had to tear his eyes away and focus on what he had been doing. There was a certain pitch he was waiting for her to make; they hadn't done this yet since her voice had come back full-force and he wondered if the noise would be the same or if he'd have to learn a new one.

It was the same, but she reared up on him like she hadn't come for a month and gasped out his name anyway. Once she dropped her butt back down to the tile, he eased himself up out of the water on shaking arms and managed to press himself inside her and lay on top of her all at once.

"You good for one more?" He asked, watching her eyes drag open. She gave him a small smile.

"Yes, but then you might have to carry me around for the rest of the evening," she said. He nodded and rolled into her all the way, loving the way she rubbed her cool, damp thighs against his sides. He shivered a little.

"Well….there's a hot tub over there with our names all over it," he said.

"Good," she panted.

He kissed her forehead and brought his hand up to cup her jaw a little.

"I'll carry you over there," he promised.

"If you're not crawling with me, I haven't done my job properly," she said, giving a dry swallow before her mouth popped open and she panted again.

He gave her a little grin because honestly? She was just too fucking much but in the best way possible. There was no other girl for him, really. She just…there was no way she could blow his mind for twenty-four hours straight and then imply she was a failure.

"You're amazing," he said simply. "And I'm…tired."

She laughed and tucked her head against his shoulder and they laughed, all tangled up together as he moved inside her again. They were going slow, because there was no reason to hurry and no reason to be as intense about it as they had been all day so far.

"I'm glad you feel better though," he says. "And for the record…your singing was off the hook before but…I think your voice sounds even better now."

"You do?"

"Yeah, 'cause I've definitely never heard you say my name the way you do now. Shit's hot."

She laughed again and he could feel her laughter rolling through him because of the way they were joined. "You want me to say your name, huh?"

"Um…yeah," he agreed. He pressed his forehead to hers and continued with his slow strokes, taking his time winding her up again.

She let her tired eyes open, dancing them over his face. He was so close and so warm and just…she was so glad to be there with him. She hoped he knew, but she didn't really want to say it, either. It was easier to joke.

"Maybe we'll have to wait a few weeks to do this again," she commented lightly. He brought his head up from where he'd laid it almost sleepily on her shoulder.

"Bite your fuckin' tongue."

"I thought that was your job," she commented lightly. He kissed her in response, nipping at her lips and tongue until she granted him the entrance he sought. He trailed his hand up her shin at the same time, applying slight pressure to her knee where it was pressed into him. It changed the angle of things just enough. He felt the change in her breathing—that hadn't changed either—and sped up, using his last burst of energy to make her see stars. She couldn't keep herself from crying out his name. He couldn't keep himself from collapsing into her after he came, too.

They laid there together for a long time until he offered to play rock/paper/scissors to determine who would go retrieve their swimsuits from the pool house before they got in the hot tub. He wasn't entirely serious because he knew she was even more worn out than he was—plus, he had promised to take care of her and fucking her to the ground then making her get up didn't really fit in with that.

He went and got their swimsuits and her cover-up thing (he kind of hated that thing, but he hated the idea of her being sunburned and in pain and also not wanting to be touched even more) and they dressed before easing into some lounger chairs and dozing off for a while in the shade. Rachel was typically anti-nap, claiming it severely damaged day-to-day productivity and promoted a lazy mentality that often led to complacency…or something else he tuned out…but it seemed like maybe he'd found a way to change her attitude about it. Just to prove he was totally okay with her new attitude, he took her hand before he fell asleep and he didn't smile when she curled toward his chair in her own.

Later that night, she had at least lost the cover and they were in the hot tub. He'd grilled dinner for them (she said she wasn't at all surprised he could cook when it came to something like that, because of course cooking meat was a "man skill"—he even managed to grill some squash for her that he had to admit turned out pretty good) but now they were just eating fruit out of a glass bowl. And whenever he reached for fruit, he swiped in through whipped cream (vegan-they made that shit and he knew it now) before he kinda partway missed her mouth with it. She had protested few times about getting whipped cream in the hot tub but he thought maybe she was enjoying the relaxing and the making out.

The last time he had "missed her mouth" with the whipped cream, it hadn't really taken him twenty minutes it suck it off her mouth, either.

"Noah, do you think we're…I mean, is it bad that we kind of bailed on everyone else and kept it just the two of us?"

"Whadd'ya mean?" He asked. He reached for his bottle of water; he'd set the hot tub to a sweaty 101 degrees, and while it felt good on some of the muscles he legit didn't know he had until they were tired, it also meant she'd been nagging him about the importance of staying hydrated.

"Well...it's just been almost a month since I had that surgery, and I honestly think in that time I've managed to ignore everyone except you."

"I refuse to be ignored," he said, leaning toward her and resting his arm behind her on the tile around the hot tub.

She looked over at him, her face openly affectionate. "While that is true, I just worry that it makes us be less well-rounded than we perhaps ought to be. I mean…if we broke up, what would I be left with? You're basically the extent of my social life this summer."

"You worry too much, B," he says. "First off, I don't think we're breakin' up. Like…for real, you're the first person that's been able to wear me out." She laughed and right on schedule, he yawned. "But really…" he voice dropped down to the pansy octave and he didn't give a shit. There was obviously something she needed to hear. "Really this is legit the best Fourth of July I've ever had. It's 'cause of you and us and I'd have to be a fuckin' moron to let you go now. But if it makes you feel better…well…we'll have a video game night or somethin' and invite everyone. Aren't your dads doin' another cruise before school starts?"

She gave a little nod before he leaned back. The fireworks at the park were close enough to this house they had to lean back to see them over the house but really, they had a perfect view and the first one had just fired off.

"Well…sounds to me like a perfect time to do all this again. And one night we can invite everyone else and do video games or somethin'."

"Okay," she agreed quietly, settling in against him. He felt her head turn from where it was resting on his shoulder. "You would do this again?"

Sometimes he just knows shit. And this time, he knew she wasn't talking about the weekend. She was talking about everything. He kissed her forehead.

"You betcha," he answered. His answer was the same either way. He felt her finger swipe at his cheek but he didn't think about it much until he felt her rise up just enough to lick and kiss at his skin. She'd wiped whipped cream on him and no sooner was she kissing it off him than her hand was in his lap, too, working at the waistband of his swim trunks. He grinned.

"What about it?" She asked, her voice low and raw in his ear. "Would you do it again, too?"

He turned his head toward her, his green eyes swiping once over her damp skin, sparkling from the fireworks dancing over their heads and the red lights in the bottom of the hot tub. (Those were secretly his favorite because they made her look almost pink and she just…his girl was fuckin' hot, okay?)

"Toldja…you're an animal," he breathed out, even as she let out a breathy little giggle against his lips.

But really, his answer when it came to his girl was always the same word—yes; he could only hope he was fucked because it seemed like she'd figured him out.