This Doesn't Need To Get Complicated: Chapter Two
Title: This Doesn't Need to Get Complicated
Fandom/Pairing: Glee - Puck and Rachel
Summary/Prompt: Rachel asks Puck to be her donor. Puck agrees as long as they do it the old fashioned way
Rating/Word Count: T/1,689 words
A/N: It was originally a prompt on the puckrachel drabble meme, but I'm slowly trying to turn into a multi-chap fic
Chapter One
Pulling her shades down off the top of her head, covering her eyes from the late afternoon Manhattan sun, Rachel clenched tightly at the straps of her handbag as she exited the CVS a couple of blocks away from her apartment.
She was now two days late, and considering that since high school she had followed a very regular schedule, she had raced down to the nearest store after morning rehearsals had ended to grab as many tests as she could, without making it appear like she was obsessing.
Walking the familiar path back to her Upper West Side home, she tried not to think about the next nine months. The changes that she would have to make to her home, to make it child proof, the changes to her diet and exercise to make sure that the baby would be in perfect health; the time off she would need to take from work - once she got too big to play Elphaba and afterwards, when she would just want to spend the time with the baby. The furniture that would be needed and the clothes she would have to buy. She tried not to think about it, but she couldn’t help that her overactive mind went into overdrive at the first sight of a stroller in the crowded city.
**
She calmly made her way through her apartment, forcing herself to take her time as she locked the door behind her, and poured herself a glass of water to calm herself down. She gave herself a mental reminder to call Noah afterwards, and then she made her way into the bathroom.
She sat on the top of the closed toilet lid, her eyes downcast in disbelief as she scrutinized the result that had finally appeared on the small stick she had very carefully been holding for the last two minutes.
She didn’t understand; she couldn’t even process it. She had told herself that this was a possibility (somewhere in the back of her mind) but she had done everything right, she had taken every little precaution; she had taken the advice of so many fertility experts on when exactly was the best time.
She would have tried to convince herself that it was just a false reading, that taking another test would (maybe) change the outcome; but she’d been telling herself that for the last twenty minutes and the truth was that it just corroborated the results of the other five tests lying discarded next to her on the sink.
She was not pregnant.
She took her time to clean up the bathroom, throwing away any reminder of the failed attempt and taking her time to wash her hands, scrubbing at the skin, as she tried to convince herself that this wasn’t the end of the world, it wasn’t a big deal, it wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault; not everyone just fell pregnant on their first attempt. There were people out there who would spent most their lives trying and never be able to have a child. She was perfectly healthy; she could try again in a couple of weeks.
She poured herself a glass of chilled water once she decided her bathroom was sanitary enough again and curled herself up in her favorite chair, her cell phone resting on her thigh as she thought about what she knew she had to do next.
She knew that she had to call Noah, she had involved him in this, and now she needed to follow through.
**
Puck scowled at Santana from his seat at the bar as he took a break. Another Friday night, another night spent with his guitar in the bar as women almost fell at his feet. He couldn’t help it.
He had been drinking the beer that had just been placed in front of him, the bartender knew him well now; when the Latina law student had made a remark about the attention he’d been receiving.
“Why you in such a pissy mood tonight, Puckerman?” She asked, reluctantly turning her attention away from someone who had caught her attention on the other side of the room back to her ex. She raised an eyebrow, waiting.
“Not,” he grumbled back. “Mind your own goddamn business.”
Santana snorted, taking another sip of her beer. “You’ve been like this for weeks Puck,” she told him. “Snap out of it.”
He thought about snapping back at her; but it was Santana. She wasn’t afraid of him and she would keep going all night, so instead he grumbled incoherently as he downed half the bottle in one gulp. He was about to go back up on stage, the bar managed was signaling him when his phone started ringing.
He thought about ignoring it, it was probably one of his boys or something, but he glanced down at the screen and saw Rachel’s name flashing. This was probably more important at the moment. He held up a hand, to tell the guy he needed another five minutes before slipping out of the crowded bar on the less crowded sidewalk outside.
“Hey Berry,” he greeted her, stuffing his free hand into his jeans pocket.
“Good evening Noah,” he noticed that even for her she sounded too formal, and too bright. It was an act. Something was wrong.
“You okay Rachel?” He turned away from a group of people coming out of the bar so he could hear her better.
“I’m fine Noah, perfect.” Liar . “I was just calling to say hello, see how you’ve been.”
Puck paused, she didn’t call him to just say hello . She wouldn’t call him on a Friday night to chat when she knew he’d be out. He sighed.
“How’d the test go?” It had only taken him a second to realize what today would mean. He was pretty sure she’d mentioned the date once or twice in passing in the last two weeks; he just hadn’t been paying any attention.
When most of the things that came out of her mouth had to do with musicals and her work, he just started to tune her out.
“It was negative,” she mentioned casually; like it was no big deal.
“I’m sorry Rach,” he knew how much she wanted this baby.
There was silence of the line for a couple of seconds, and he wondered if she was still there. “It’s okay Noah,” she said clearing her throat. “I understand these things happen. We can try again in a couple of weeks.”
He didn’t know how exactly to respond to that and an awkward silence fell between the two of them, until he turned around and found Santana leaning against the open door, a lazy smirk on her face.
“Uh…Rach, I gotta go. I have to get back on stage.” He kind of hated how it sounded like a brush off.
“Th…That’s okay, we’ll talk soon.” It might have sounded like a brush off, but she knew that it was just Noah being Noah.
“See ya Rach,” he shoved the phone back into his pocket and glared at Santana. “What?”
Santana shook her head, lifting her beer bottle back up to her lips. “Ya gonna be a daddy?”
“Not yet,” he pushed past her back into the bar.
**
She went to bed dreaming about babies; it was like her subconscious enjoyed messing with her head. The perfect baby boy with her wide eyes who had already inherited his father’s infamous smirk. She woke up with a jump when the baby started crying and she stared up at the dark ceiling, sighing after glancing at her alarm clock to realize that it was only two thirty in the morning. She hoped that she could get a couple hours of restful (dreamless) sleep before her day started.
She threw all her focus back into her work. Wicked and Elphaba had been her baby for the last two years, and she had absolutely no reason to let any of her focus or dedication slip yet. Until she left on eventual maternity leave, she would continue to be the best Elphaba Broadway had seen since Idina Menzel.
**
“Don’t think about this,” his lips brushed past the tender flesh of his neck, and the stubble around his jaw tickled her as the fleeting thought of a rash the next day disappeared.
Puck pushed Rachel back onto her bed, brushing his fingers down her stomach quickly to unfasten the buttons and pull her blouse off, tossing it into the corner of the room. She was still too tense underneath him.
“Relax babe,” he kissed under her ear, and felt her almost melt underneath him as he tugged at her skirt.
Coming to her sense just enough to realize that while she was now practically naked, Noah was still completely dressed; she pulled her hands up to tug his shirt up, sending it in the same direction as her blouse, before working the zipper of his jeans.
She moaned, arching her back softly as he laughed softly against her cheek before capturing her lips again. She wriggled underneath him as he kicked his jeans off, and he trapped her waist underneath his hands to still her.
Rachel wrapped her arms around Noah’s neck, pulling him in closer as he traced her collar bone with his mouth, sucking on the flesh between her shoulder and neck. Arching her back again, he entered and a strangled cry barely escaped her lips before she latched on to his mouth again.
**
The first thing Rachel felt as she woke up the next morning was the arm thrown casually over her waist. Rolling her head, a small smile crossed her lips as she watched Noah sleeping; his bare chest rising and lowering at an even, shallow pace.
She wriggled back underneath the covers, and closed her eyes again. She was comfortable in bed, with Noah next to her; even if it was just because she wasn’t going throw him out last night, and he had enough decency not to ditch her straight away. She had no plans for the morning, and she deserved a sleep in.
Chapter Three