a/n: I needed to write something fluffy to detract from the angst my other stories have seemingly descended into. So enjoy.
Puck's dating the blind chick. That's the most common phrase that Rachel hears when Puck walks into school holding her hand. She's not at all surprised by the words and frankly should have expected it. It took a while to convince Santana that scratching Quinn's eyes out wasn't necessary on the first day.
'Are you listening to these assholes Ray? I gots razor blades up in this weave. Gimme one second with any of them-'
'I appreciate the sentiment Santana,' Rachel interrupts, placing a calming hand on her friend's arm. 'But it's best to let these things pass. In a day or two something else scandalous will happen and Noah and I will be old news.'
She hears Santana scoff. 'Puckerman, you gonna stand there like a little bitch?'
Rachel feels Puck's arm shift on her shoulder. 'You really think I care what these losers think? Rach is right. Don't worry Lopez, if anyone crosses a line I'm all for reminding them which kingdoms I run.'
Rachel rolls her eyes, and she's pretty sure Santana does the same.
'It's intimidation and fear-'
'God just shut up,' Santana retorts, reaching over to squeeze Rachel's fingers. It was a gesture they had developed to let Rachel know when Santana was entering or leaving a conversation. 'See you later Ray.' Something flowery enters Rachel's nose as she feels soft lips press against her cheek.
'What a bitch.'
'What?' Puck's voice is beside her and warm breath ghosts over the shell of her ear. 'S'true. Can't hassle me for bein' honest.'
'What am I going to do with you?' She wonders out loud, tapping a finger on her chin.
'Baby, there are so many answers to that question,' Puck answers, both hands easing her back onto the bank of lockers. The rough pads of his fingers trace up her arm, her neck, her face. It's a new sensation that sends thrills up her spine, one that she thinks she will have no trouble getting used to. The slide of Puck's lips against hers is something she intends to master as well.
'I'm so thankful I didn't have breakfast this morning,' Kurt's wry tone makes Puck slowly drift away, earning a plaintive whine from Rachel. Her heart thuds against her chest like a hummingbird and Rachel clenches her fist to slow it down.
'See you at lunch 'kay?' Puck whispers to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before leaving. Rachel thinks maybe that should be Puck's identifying gesture.
'You look like you're going to swoon,' Kurt says. 'Here hold on to my elbow so you don't faint.'
Rachel giggles and links her arms through Kurt's. Puck shakes his head at the pair before heading off in the opposite direction.
A few days later Puck wrings his hands nervously as he rings the doorbell at the Berry household. He tugs at the collar of his plaid shirt and runs a hand through his hair, body tensing when the door swings open to reveal a man about his height with wire-rimmed glasses.
'Good afternoon Sir,' Puck says. 'I'm here to pick Rachel up.'
'Ah. You must be Noah. Come in son,' Mr Berry sweeps a hand through the open threshold and Puck complies hesitantly. 'I'm Hiram Berry.'
Puck shakes his hand, hoping his palms weren't sweaty.
'Rachel! Your boyfriend's here!' Hiram calls up the stairs and Puck freezes. Some of the panic must have been reflected on his face because Hiram laughs, claps him on the shoulder a bit forcefully. Puck sees a tall, black man descend down the stairs with Rachel and feels the blood drain from his face.
Oh my fuckin' god. Shaq is gonna kill me.
The other man, or Daddy as Rachel affectionately calls him when they leave, is named Leroy and seems to regard Puck with the right degree of suspicion.
'I'll have her back before curfew…Sirs,' Puck tells them both, heart leaping to his throat when Rachel weaves her fingers between his. Both men flick their eyes towards the gesture and Puck waits with bated breath for either one to whip out a shotgun or a rabid Guide Dog. Nothing happens though and Puck lets out a relieved sigh as he helps Rachel into his truck.
'See? I don't even know why you were worried,' Rachel murmurs as she smoothes down the red sundress she has on, leans her cane across her lap. 'They like you.'
'Parents don't like me,' Puck thinks he should tell her, remembering the looks he had gotten from people during Quinn's pregnancy. 'You look hot.'
'Really?' She asks like his compliment is unexpected.
'If I wasn't afraid your dads would, like, kill me, I would totally be makin' out with you right now,' he informs her seriously. She still looks uncomfortable with his words and Puck decides any guy who hasn't realized how ridiculously attractive this chick is a complete idiot. Actually he's glad, because he's the one that wants to help her acknowledge her beauty or some shit like that.
The drive to the park isn't long and Rachel sits by his side, content to absorb the sounds and smells around her.
'So…'cause you can't see, does this mean you have superhearing or somethin'?' Puck ventures cautiously.
Rachel lets out a little laugh before replying. 'Unfortunately no. I've just learnt to listen more carefully or really focus if I want to distinguish smells. It's something everyone is capable of really. I just rely on the skill more since I can't see like you.'
Puck feels a bit stupid asking the question and doesn't see Rachel angle her body towards him, or see her hand crawl across the seat to find his thigh until she squeezes. It almost makes Puck veer off the road.
'I'm not offended Noah. I like that you feel comfortable enough to ask,' Rachel says gently. Puck pulls into the parking spot, cuts the engine before taking her hand between his.
'I think whenever you see me you should kiss my forehead,' Rachel suddenly announces before flushing. Puck grins.
'It's so I know who you are when you come up to me,' Rachel explains a bit frantically. 'Santana squeezes my hand and Kurt like tapping my elbow.'
Puck leans over to peck her forehead, enjoying the way Rachel scrunches up her nose at the gesture. He eagerly leads her out of the car, grabbing the woven basket and soft blanket as Rachel runs a toe through the gravel laid over the parking lot.
'You need a hand?' He asks.
'Please.' Puck tucks the blanket over the basket on one arm before grabbing Rachel's hand, telling her when to step up or around when needed.
'Are we at the park?' Rachel sounds excited and a part of Puck relaxes at that.
'I figured we could have a picnic since it's a nice day. You like the sun right?' He already knows she does, recalling all the times he's seen her just sit somewhere with her face turned up at the sky.
He tells Rachel to stand somewhere while he sets everything up, grasping her fingers as he lets her seat herself on the worn blanket. She brushes against his shirt, asks him what colour it is.
'Purple and black I think. Plaid,' he squints at the material.
'It feels nice. Sit closer to me so I can enjoy it.'
Puck lets a wicked smile lift his lips as he shuffles closer to her, laying out the finger food Santana had helped him make this morning. His mother had looked curiously at the pair of them on her way out the door, Santana asking him loudly whether any of the glee members were allergic to cucumber. Thank fuck. He wasn't quite ready to introduce Abigail Puckerman to Rachel yet.
'How come you never did shit like this for me?' Santana had asked him at one point.
'Dude, I gave you as many fingers as you asked for.'
'Fuck you,' Santana narrowed her eyes at him, smirking. 'Hand me the peanut butter asshole.'
Puck watched Rachel eat, enjoying the way she would taste, feel and smell each item before devouring it in dainty bites. After they laid side by side on the blanket, Rachel sighing in contentment.
'This is wonderful Noah. Thank you.'
Puck leaned up on his elbow, let his eyes trace over her. The dress hugged her curves and ended at her knee, tanned skin glowing like the gold necklace clasped around her neck.
Rachel felt something warm settle over her knee, Puck's thumb rubbing small circles over the bony bit that stuck out at the side. Biting her lip, feeling bold, Rachel put a hand over his. Questioning she tracked a path to his shoulder, pushing him towards the ground before positioning herself on top of him. Puck chuckled, hands on her hips to steady her.
'Knew you only liked me for my body,' Puck says softly, intimately. Rachel smiles at him, props her chin on his chest and sighs when his lips brush against her bangs. Easing up she uses her hands to find his lips, Puck letting her fingers dance across his face before her lips find his.
Rachel's entire world narrows to just him and her, the way their bodies are touching and the way Puck flicks his tongue into her mouth like a caress. She worries whether she's doing this right, concentrates to make sure Puck is enjoying this just as much as she is. The hands at her waist climb up, and Rachel arches into him instinctively when she feels his thumb brush against the underside of her breast. Puck groans at the movement and she can feel something stiff brush against her pelvis.
'Okay. Okay. We need to…slow the fuck down a little,' Puck tells her, voice a little shaky.
'Am I doing something wrong?' She curses her inexperience.
'Fuck no,' Puck assures her, pushing her hair behind her ear. 'But you're hot and I'm tryin' to not take this too far. You deserve to be wooed.'
'Wooed?' Rachel arches an eyebrow.
'S'what Kurt said when I borrowed the basket from him.'
'I like what we're doing,' Rachel states confidently. 'I want to do it somemore.'
'Shit. You're killin' me here. I'm tryna be chilvarous or somethin' like that, okay?'
'Okay,' Rachel soothes. 'But honestly Noah, if I think you're overstepping a line, I would tell you.'
'I know,' Puck breathes out heavily. 'But I want to do this right. You're, like, my first legit girlfriend-'
'What about Quinn?' Rachel asks, curious. Puck's hold on her tightens before relaxing.
'Quinn and I were…complicated. Whatever was between us didn't exist, no matter how much I wanted it to. Fuck, I'm pretty sure Quinn hates my guts. More so after.'
The pain in his voice is hard to miss and Rachel leans her cheek against his chest, wraps her arms around his neck. They lie there, Rachel using Puck as a mattress, as the afternoon sun beats down on her neck. She hopes her actions show him that she's sorry he had to go through what he did, that she's sorry for bringing Quinn up.
'You're a good person Noah,' she mumbles into the purple and black plaid.
Puck doesn't say anything. His fingers comb through her hair and after a few minutes Rachel feels drowsy, fists Puck's shirt and drifting off.
'Rachel?' Puck says softly, sees that the girl's fallen asleep. He lifts her, places her on his side where she immediately curls up, face snuggling into his neck. He looks at her for a minute before staring up at the clear, blue sky.
If nothing else, Rachel has taught him one thing – most times it was the blind that showed the seeing which way to go.
I want to do this right, because you deserve it. And so do I.