I'm a Little Drunk, and I Need You Now
Title: I'm a Little Drunk, and I Need You Now
Fandom/Pairing: Glee - Puck/Rachel
Summary/Prompt: It's a quarter after one. I'm a little drunk, and I need you now
Rating/Word Count: T/~1,300 words (I think.)
A/N: Written for the puckrachel drabble meme. At this point, even I don't know what I'm writing any more. I just want to kick this writer's block.
It wasn’t until just before one that Rachel managed to unlock the front door of her second floor Brooklyn walkup, carrying her re high heels in one hand as she steadied herself with the other, searching out the light switch to illuminate the main living area that she shared with her best friend, Santana.
Dropping her heels by the door, silently vowing to herself that she would never again wear them - the added couple of extra inches weren’t worth the pain, especially when she was walking through the Manhattan streets at night, she shuffled into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water.
Picking up the bottle of aspirin that was kept on the kitchen counter, Rachel lay down on the couch, stretching her legs out and resting her head on the cushion. She wasn’t a heavy drinker, and normally vetoed Santana’s nights out for a quiet night with a movie on the couch, but her friend had dragged her out of the house, insisting that she had to start dating again.
It had been three months since Rachel had ended her relationship with Andrew, who had been a year ahead of her at NYU, when Rachel caught him in bed with one of their professors, and Santana had declared that Rachel’s moping was now bordering on pathetic.
Mitchell, the business major that Santana had hooked her up with, had been nice enough - making all the right moves, but she had spent the night staring straight into her glass, offering up an obligatory smile every couple of minutes as she half-listened to him talking.
She had shot a couple of glares across to Santana as well, who had spent the entire night in her own little bubble with her own date, but the other girl had brushed her off with a smirk.
So when Santana and her date decided to move from the bar they had gone to for dinner to a club down the street, Rachel made her goodnights to Mitchell - offering a kiss on the cheek before walking in the opposite direction.
She closed her eyes, reveling in the silence of her empty apartment before reaching out blindly for the floor where she had dropped her handbag, quickly fishing out her Blackberry.
She flipped her phone over in her hands, knowing that she was crazy for even thinking about calling him. It was dangerous what she had with him; they weren’t friends, not like they should be and the flirtation they’d played with for the last two years was anything but innocent.
It wouldn’t be the first time she crossed the line with him since they moved to New York three years ago, but it would be the first time since she had kicked him out of her apartment seven months ago, a month before she started seeing Andrew, declaring that she had had enough of his stupid mind games.
Typing in the memorized number slowly, she took her time, changing her mind on whether or not to actually call with each new number pressed.
“Babe,” she held her breath as his groggy voice filled her ear. “It’s one in the morning. Why you calling?”
Rachel took a deep breath; there was no turning back now. “Can you come over?”
Puck barked out a laugh, and she could hear the rustle of his sheets as he climbed out of bed. “I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up the phone before she could say anything else and Rachel threw her phone back into her bag.
She was getting herself into trouble by calling him again, and Santana was going to have a field day if she came home in the morning to find Puck sitting on the couch in only his boxers (it wouldn’t be the first time it happened).
Rachel still had her eyes closed when she heard the door open a couple of minutes later, and she realized that she hadn’t locked the door behind her after she had dropped her heels.
She opened her eyes to smile up at Puck as he stood at the end of the couch, staring at her. He raised one eyebrow and smirked down at her as he considered her outfit. “Big night?”
She looked down at the red plunging V-neck sweater and her favorite black skirt, which barely covered the top of her thighs (it was his favorite skirt as well).
“Maybe,” she offered back, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that she had left a date early to call him.
He kicked off his running shoes, as Rachel shifted up on the couch slightly and then he crawled on top of her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she locked hers around his neck.
“Oh…I missed this,” he growled, pressing his lips to under her jaw, moving across to her neck.
Well, that’s not my fault, she wanted to tell him, but as his lips captured hers, all she could muster was a breathless moan.
“I really missed this,” he growled again, following the line of her sweater down her chest, moving his hands from her back to the hem line of her sweater, pushing the material up to reveal her flat, tanned stomach.
He pulled her in for another kiss, before she pulled away from him and struggled to sit up, pushing his weight off of her. She shook her head as he tried to push her back down, moving her legs to plant her feet on the floor, taking the time to catch her breath.
“No…Not here,” she murmured, before Puck could say anything about teasing him. “San will kill me if we do anything on the couch.”
She ignored his grin, it wouldn’t be the first time that they listened to Santana bitch them out in Spanish after catching them on the couch, and he entwined her fingers with his, easily pulling her up off the couch.
Rachel grinned up at him, playing with the hem of the white shirt he had grabbed off his floor after she had called, pulling it up as far as she could get it, before he took over and threw the shirt clear across the room.
He settled his hands on her hips, and started pushing her backwards towards her bedroom as she loosed his belt, pulling the leather through the threads, dropping that at their feet before managing to get the button undone and the zipper down, just as the back of her knees hit her bedframe.
She threw her sweater across the room, aiming but failing for her laundry hamper, smiling coyly up at Puck as she lay back down against her pillows; letting him take in the new white lace bra that she had been coerced to buy on her last shopping trip.
“God damn Rachel,” he murmured, kicking his jeans off before laying back down over her, resting his weight on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush the tiny girl underneath him. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He moaned, kissing the corner of her mouth with a lot less force than she was used to with him, before nipping at her bottom lip.
“I’ve missed you Noah,” Rachel whispered, arching her back as his fingers worked their way underneath her skirt and passed the thin material of her underwear. She went to go say something else but as his fingers worked her expertly she only managed to part her lips and moan, arching her back as she tried to feel more. It was the first time in months she had felt like this, and she wanted to prolong it as long as possible.
Puck pushed her skirt up around her waist, bending down to work small kisses up her thigh stopping just before he reached her clit. He moved back up, grinning at her desperate moan.
“What do you want, babe?”
“You,” Rachel moaned finding his lips for another kiss, hungry with need and want. “I want you,”
She could feel the smirk on his lips as he kissed her back, taking his time to work her up.
“Noah,” she moaned again. “Later, Noah. I need you. Now.” She cried.
He groaned, nipping down on her shoulder enough to leave a slight mark as he angled himself at her entrance; and then he caught her lips again, swallowing her scream as he pushed himself in to the hilt.
*
“Rach, Rach babe, wake up.” Puck woke her up the next morning, brushing his fingers up and down her spine lightly, “time to wake up baby.”
Rachel shook her head, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck inhaling his familiar scent. “Want to stay here.” She whispered softly.
“Rachel, coffee’s ready.” Santana’s voice called out from behind the closed door and the tiny brunette groaned, feeling the hangover from the night before. “You too Puckerman!”