That Dam Dare - Puck/Rachel, PG
Title: That Dam Dare
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Rachel/Puck
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Season 1
Summary: Puck has got himself into some pretty stupid situations over the years, but this one takes the cake.
A/N: Yes, I do think I'm being funny with that title, why do you ask?
“Puck! Don’t be an idiot!” Rachel leans far over the barrier herself, but Puck is out of reach.
“Chill, Rach,” he replies, scooting a little further down the smooth side of the dam.
“Chill?!” Puck knew that Rachel could hit high notes, but the pitch she reached on that exclamation was incredible. “You’re literally going to get yourself killed. You will fall to your death and everyone will blame me as the one who let you do it.”
“You didn’t dare me,” Puck stretches a little more. If he could just reach that flower, he could hop over the barrier and be back to the car in no time. Stupid Karofsky, challenging his manhood. And how gay was that dare anyway - go get the pink flower from the dam? “You could hardly have stopped me anyway. You’re tiny, and I’ve got guns.” Maybe Rachel will be so relieved she’ll let him get to second base… “And even if I do fall, you’ll get to sell your story to all the papers.” Rachel is silent, and he just knows she’s dreaming it up in her head. First the local papers, then a spot on the news for the one year anniversary…
“Do you think your life would make a good musical, Noah?” He rolls his eyes. He knows Rachel would never hurt a fly - literally, the chick is a vegan and that’s just weird - but that tone is there in her voice. The crazy one she gets whenever she’s imagining her name in lights. The one that says she might just give him a little push.
“No, not really,” he shifts carefully a little more to the left, fingers digging into the groove between two slabs of cement. He doesn’t actually want to fall, after all. “I’ve not done anything. Get born, go to school, play football and then die falling down a dam? I wouldn’t go see it.”
“You wouldn’t go see any musical, I’ve tried.” At least Rachel is more relaxed now, he notices. Her hands are clasped together as she leans on the barrier, and her hair is getting swept into her face by the breeze. “Not even Rent,” she tucks a lock back behind her ear. “I promise, Noah, you would like it. It’s a rock opera. You’ve heard the music.”
Puck groans. He’d thought dating Rachel would be cool - it’s what the Lord wants after all, and she’s hot in a pocket-sized sort of way. No Quinn perhaps, but at least she has shorter skirts. “Anything with opera in the description is not something I want to see.” This is really the only issue; her constant talking about musicals and plays, songs and dancing. Why doesn’t she just talk to Kurt about all this? Quinn at least has the sense to keep the cheerleading talk to Santana and Brittany.
“Hmm. Well, maybe someday I’ll convince you.” Ok, now that doesn’t sound like Rachel. Giving in, and in less than ten words, too?
“Were you going to write my musical, then?” Puck risks a glance behind him, and smiles at the grin that fills Rachel’s face, even though she’s staring off to the trees in the distance.
“Maybe,” she replies. “Maybe I still will. I’ve always thought I could be an excellent songwriter, given the right material.”
One more stretch and Puck can feel the stalk between his fingers. He snips a nail through it quickly, pulling his arm back and slipping the flower into his shirt pocket. “Got it.”
“Good, then just get back. Much as a fall to the death, you crushed in the gushing water below would make a great finale-”
His foot slips. For one moment, Puck knows why they call these moments ‘heart-stopping’. He feels the pull as his heart rises. The ache as his stomach drops, then everything else freezes. His fingers cling to the shallow groove between the slabs, hands spasming with the sudden strain. It seems like days later when his brain processes the fact that he’s not falling. He leans his forehead against the cool stone, then glances up. Rachel is stock still, hands clapped to her face; a mimic of that ‘Scream’ painting.
“Noah,” she whispers. He can hear the edge of tears in her voice, but she’s fighting them back.
“I’m fine, Rachel,” he replies, scuttling up the bank of the dam, keeping low and double-testing his grip each time.
“But-“
“Fine, Rach, I’m fine. Sorry I ruined your big ending.” With a final heave, he’s standing upright on the wrong side of the barrier, swinging a leg over, and then safe.
“Don’t even-“ her hands are covering her eyes now, and he takes her wrists gently, lowering them.
“Fine,” Puck repeats softly. “So you need a new ending. What’s it going to be, huh? Am I going to go to college? Get a football scholarship? Or end up a dead-beat drunk and stuck in Lima,” he grins to show her he’s joking, and she gives him a tentative smile back.
“I thought you might discover your true love of musicals, and end up on Broadway,” she teases quietly.
“Oh very realistic,” he turns to walk back to the car, then stops and looks back at her. Tucks the pink flower into her hair. “Keep that safe for me, yeah?”
Rachel nods, patting it gently. “I will. And thank you, Noah.”
“For what?”
“You may have noticed I can be a little highly strung,” at Puck’s snort Rachel glares, but it soon softens into a small smile when he loops an arm around her shoulders and tugs her towards his car. “Ok, a lot highly strung.” She pauses, but Puck just lets the silence stretch. It’s unusual around Rachel, after all. “I know I freak out. And here, tonight, was a prime opportunity. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been distracting me - you’re not that subtle.”
Puck turns to her with his best ‘aw shucks’ expression - it gets his grandma every time - but Rachel is gazing up at him, her eyes clear and honest. Puck may not have known Rachel that long, but he does know how she likes to be in control, to not let anyone in. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to her lips, lingering slightly before pulling away. It’s not really a ‘Puck’ kiss.
“Thank you, Noah.” Rachel’s voice is soft, but she turns and carries on walking to the car. He unlocks it from his side, and she pulls open her door. “Of course, if you’d listened to me instead of being such an oafish jock in the first place, I wouldn’t have needed the distraction.”
“Ah, but then you would have missed out on a first-class field trip, not to mention the plot of a lifetime.” Starting the engine, Puck turns the music down and switches it to the Rent soundtrack. He may have resisted seeing it, but Rachel has managed to get the music into his car, his house and (yes, sometimes) his brain. He doesn’t mind too much. She’s calmer and easier to cope with when she can hear a Broadway tune, like a baby with a lullaby. “Don’t worry babe,” he says with a grin, snapping her seatbelt into the holder and shifting the car out of park. “I’ll distract you anytime.”
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Rachel/Puck
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Season 1
Summary: Puck has got himself into some pretty stupid situations over the years, but this one takes the cake.
A/N: Yes, I do think I'm being funny with that title, why do you ask?
“Puck! Don’t be an idiot!” Rachel leans far over the barrier herself, but Puck is out of reach.
“Chill, Rach,” he replies, scooting a little further down the smooth side of the dam.
“Chill?!” Puck knew that Rachel could hit high notes, but the pitch she reached on that exclamation was incredible. “You’re literally going to get yourself killed. You will fall to your death and everyone will blame me as the one who let you do it.”
“You didn’t dare me,” Puck stretches a little more. If he could just reach that flower, he could hop over the barrier and be back to the car in no time. Stupid Karofsky, challenging his manhood. And how gay was that dare anyway - go get the pink flower from the dam? “You could hardly have stopped me anyway. You’re tiny, and I’ve got guns.” Maybe Rachel will be so relieved she’ll let him get to second base… “And even if I do fall, you’ll get to sell your story to all the papers.” Rachel is silent, and he just knows she’s dreaming it up in her head. First the local papers, then a spot on the news for the one year anniversary…
“Do you think your life would make a good musical, Noah?” He rolls his eyes. He knows Rachel would never hurt a fly - literally, the chick is a vegan and that’s just weird - but that tone is there in her voice. The crazy one she gets whenever she’s imagining her name in lights. The one that says she might just give him a little push.
“No, not really,” he shifts carefully a little more to the left, fingers digging into the groove between two slabs of cement. He doesn’t actually want to fall, after all. “I’ve not done anything. Get born, go to school, play football and then die falling down a dam? I wouldn’t go see it.”
“You wouldn’t go see any musical, I’ve tried.” At least Rachel is more relaxed now, he notices. Her hands are clasped together as she leans on the barrier, and her hair is getting swept into her face by the breeze. “Not even Rent,” she tucks a lock back behind her ear. “I promise, Noah, you would like it. It’s a rock opera. You’ve heard the music.”
Puck groans. He’d thought dating Rachel would be cool - it’s what the Lord wants after all, and she’s hot in a pocket-sized sort of way. No Quinn perhaps, but at least she has shorter skirts. “Anything with opera in the description is not something I want to see.” This is really the only issue; her constant talking about musicals and plays, songs and dancing. Why doesn’t she just talk to Kurt about all this? Quinn at least has the sense to keep the cheerleading talk to Santana and Brittany.
“Hmm. Well, maybe someday I’ll convince you.” Ok, now that doesn’t sound like Rachel. Giving in, and in less than ten words, too?
“Were you going to write my musical, then?” Puck risks a glance behind him, and smiles at the grin that fills Rachel’s face, even though she’s staring off to the trees in the distance.
“Maybe,” she replies. “Maybe I still will. I’ve always thought I could be an excellent songwriter, given the right material.”
One more stretch and Puck can feel the stalk between his fingers. He snips a nail through it quickly, pulling his arm back and slipping the flower into his shirt pocket. “Got it.”
“Good, then just get back. Much as a fall to the death, you crushed in the gushing water below would make a great finale-”
His foot slips. For one moment, Puck knows why they call these moments ‘heart-stopping’. He feels the pull as his heart rises. The ache as his stomach drops, then everything else freezes. His fingers cling to the shallow groove between the slabs, hands spasming with the sudden strain. It seems like days later when his brain processes the fact that he’s not falling. He leans his forehead against the cool stone, then glances up. Rachel is stock still, hands clapped to her face; a mimic of that ‘Scream’ painting.
“Noah,” she whispers. He can hear the edge of tears in her voice, but she’s fighting them back.
“I’m fine, Rachel,” he replies, scuttling up the bank of the dam, keeping low and double-testing his grip each time.
“But-“
“Fine, Rach, I’m fine. Sorry I ruined your big ending.” With a final heave, he’s standing upright on the wrong side of the barrier, swinging a leg over, and then safe.
“Don’t even-“ her hands are covering her eyes now, and he takes her wrists gently, lowering them.
“Fine,” Puck repeats softly. “So you need a new ending. What’s it going to be, huh? Am I going to go to college? Get a football scholarship? Or end up a dead-beat drunk and stuck in Lima,” he grins to show her he’s joking, and she gives him a tentative smile back.
“I thought you might discover your true love of musicals, and end up on Broadway,” she teases quietly.
“Oh very realistic,” he turns to walk back to the car, then stops and looks back at her. Tucks the pink flower into her hair. “Keep that safe for me, yeah?”
Rachel nods, patting it gently. “I will. And thank you, Noah.”
“For what?”
“You may have noticed I can be a little highly strung,” at Puck’s snort Rachel glares, but it soon softens into a small smile when he loops an arm around her shoulders and tugs her towards his car. “Ok, a lot highly strung.” She pauses, but Puck just lets the silence stretch. It’s unusual around Rachel, after all. “I know I freak out. And here, tonight, was a prime opportunity. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been distracting me - you’re not that subtle.”
Puck turns to her with his best ‘aw shucks’ expression - it gets his grandma every time - but Rachel is gazing up at him, her eyes clear and honest. Puck may not have known Rachel that long, but he does know how she likes to be in control, to not let anyone in. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to her lips, lingering slightly before pulling away. It’s not really a ‘Puck’ kiss.
“Thank you, Noah.” Rachel’s voice is soft, but she turns and carries on walking to the car. He unlocks it from his side, and she pulls open her door. “Of course, if you’d listened to me instead of being such an oafish jock in the first place, I wouldn’t have needed the distraction.”
“Ah, but then you would have missed out on a first-class field trip, not to mention the plot of a lifetime.” Starting the engine, Puck turns the music down and switches it to the Rent soundtrack. He may have resisted seeing it, but Rachel has managed to get the music into his car, his house and (yes, sometimes) his brain. He doesn’t mind too much. She’s calmer and easier to cope with when she can hear a Broadway tune, like a baby with a lullaby. “Don’t worry babe,” he says with a grin, snapping her seatbelt into the holder and shifting the car out of park. “I’ll distract you anytime.”