Domesticity is the first step
Prompt: Your boyfriend called. Left at the meme (part three) by christiesk
Warning: Possibly very little to do with the prompt... And I don't even have a beta.
Character: Puck, Rachel
Word Count: 659
Disclaimer: Don't own.
She walks in the apartment after a long day of rehearsal and the smell coming from the kitchen is heavenly. She's loud on purpose when she drops her bag by the door, half because she needs to let go of the day's tension and half to warn her roommate that she's in, in case he has company.
He's on her own when she walks in the kitchen though, chopping an array of fruits and vegetables into chunks.
“Hey”, she steels a piece of mango from the chopping board and he slaps her hand away. “Long day.”
“Might not be over, your boyfriend just called.”
She leans against the table, looks at him work. “Given you refer to all my male coworkers, fellow students and even the telemarketers as my boyfriend, I do hope you took his name?”
“Mmmm. One John Do from Iowa wanting to take you back to his corn field, said he though your Miss Hannigan's Easy street routine is just what he needs as a scarecrow.”
“Very funny Noah.”
He looks at her around his shoulder, raised eyebrows and smirk as Puck-ish as can be. “Certainly funnier than Andrew.”
She shakes her head at him. Andrew is not her boyfriend, though not for lack of trying on his part. Quite possibly the opposite - after enduring four years of Jacob Ben-Israel's infatuation, she tends to beware of guys who pursue her with that much intent, even without the creepy factor.
She turns to look at the mess of papers spread on the table while he goes back to putting the finishing touches to dinner. His homework mostly, amidst the day's mail. She picks up the phone bill to see how much their respective parents' tendency to worry will cost them this month and the movement causes a pinch in her shoulder. She tries to massage it away with her hand.
She doesn't tense when his hands push hers aside and his thumbs find the knot instantly. Just the right pressure and she can't keep the moan that escapes her lips. She could hug his massage professor, give the man an award; Noah sure knows how to pick his optional course to give him the most useful skills.
“Aren't you calling Captain Cardboard back?”
“Mmmm. Maybe after dinner. It smells really good.”
“Thanks. Need to eat in the living room though, took me hours to organize this stuff so I can make sense of it, no way I'm picking it up until I've finished writing this fucking report. Might not have a kitchen table for a week.”
“What is it about?”
“Crap. Just useless history of architecture stuff that won't ever be useful the second I walk out of the final exam.”
“You love it”, she smiles, turns around to face him.
“Don't say that out loud. You know me too well; if you spill I'll have to kill you”, he touches a finger to her nose. “What do you want to watch while we eat?”
“I got Rent from the library.”
“Again? Are you trying to learn the damn thing by heart?”
“Ludicrous. You know I've known it by heart for years." She winks at him. “What do you want to watch then?”
“Ask any racer, any real racer. It doesn't matter if you win by an inch or a mile; winning's winning,” he answers her, intonation and all. She laugh as she moves to the cupboard to get the plates.
"Shocking"
They were forced into living together by their respective parents - no way were their babies going to live all on their own in the Big Ugly City. According to them, Rachel needed the protection of Noah's muscles and Noah needed the anchor of Rachel's common sense.
It worked well, them as roommate, but not for the expected reasons. Turns our Noah needs Rachel's imagination and acting skills to get rid of clingy girls and Rachel needs Noah's down to earth attitude to get her down from her highs and up from her lows.
Sitting against him on the couch, legs tucked underneath her, her head on his shoulder and his arms around her, she fleetingly thinks that the domesticity of it all would kill the boy he used to be in high school. She thinks the absence of it now could possibly kill her.
(Andrew doesn't get a call back.)
Warning: Possibly very little to do with the prompt... And I don't even have a beta.
Character: Puck, Rachel
Word Count: 659
Disclaimer: Don't own.
She walks in the apartment after a long day of rehearsal and the smell coming from the kitchen is heavenly. She's loud on purpose when she drops her bag by the door, half because she needs to let go of the day's tension and half to warn her roommate that she's in, in case he has company.
He's on her own when she walks in the kitchen though, chopping an array of fruits and vegetables into chunks.
“Hey”, she steels a piece of mango from the chopping board and he slaps her hand away. “Long day.”
“Might not be over, your boyfriend just called.”
She leans against the table, looks at him work. “Given you refer to all my male coworkers, fellow students and even the telemarketers as my boyfriend, I do hope you took his name?”
“Mmmm. One John Do from Iowa wanting to take you back to his corn field, said he though your Miss Hannigan's Easy street routine is just what he needs as a scarecrow.”
“Very funny Noah.”
He looks at her around his shoulder, raised eyebrows and smirk as Puck-ish as can be. “Certainly funnier than Andrew.”
She shakes her head at him. Andrew is not her boyfriend, though not for lack of trying on his part. Quite possibly the opposite - after enduring four years of Jacob Ben-Israel's infatuation, she tends to beware of guys who pursue her with that much intent, even without the creepy factor.
She turns to look at the mess of papers spread on the table while he goes back to putting the finishing touches to dinner. His homework mostly, amidst the day's mail. She picks up the phone bill to see how much their respective parents' tendency to worry will cost them this month and the movement causes a pinch in her shoulder. She tries to massage it away with her hand.
She doesn't tense when his hands push hers aside and his thumbs find the knot instantly. Just the right pressure and she can't keep the moan that escapes her lips. She could hug his massage professor, give the man an award; Noah sure knows how to pick his optional course to give him the most useful skills.
“Aren't you calling Captain Cardboard back?”
“Mmmm. Maybe after dinner. It smells really good.”
“Thanks. Need to eat in the living room though, took me hours to organize this stuff so I can make sense of it, no way I'm picking it up until I've finished writing this fucking report. Might not have a kitchen table for a week.”
“What is it about?”
“Crap. Just useless history of architecture stuff that won't ever be useful the second I walk out of the final exam.”
“You love it”, she smiles, turns around to face him.
“Don't say that out loud. You know me too well; if you spill I'll have to kill you”, he touches a finger to her nose. “What do you want to watch while we eat?”
“I got Rent from the library.”
“Again? Are you trying to learn the damn thing by heart?”
“Ludicrous. You know I've known it by heart for years." She winks at him. “What do you want to watch then?”
“Ask any racer, any real racer. It doesn't matter if you win by an inch or a mile; winning's winning,” he answers her, intonation and all. She laugh as she moves to the cupboard to get the plates.
"Shocking"
They were forced into living together by their respective parents - no way were their babies going to live all on their own in the Big Ugly City. According to them, Rachel needed the protection of Noah's muscles and Noah needed the anchor of Rachel's common sense.
It worked well, them as roommate, but not for the expected reasons. Turns our Noah needs Rachel's imagination and acting skills to get rid of clingy girls and Rachel needs Noah's down to earth attitude to get her down from her highs and up from her lows.
Sitting against him on the couch, legs tucked underneath her, her head on his shoulder and his arms around her, she fleetingly thinks that the domesticity of it all would kill the boy he used to be in high school. She thinks the absence of it now could possibly kill her.
(Andrew doesn't get a call back.)