High Time Disclaimer:
I don’t own Glee. That’s Ryan Murphy. Author's Note:
Episode tag to 1x06, Vitamin D.
Puck knew high when he saw it. He liked to dip, drink, and do the occasional weed but before yesterday, he’d never really bothered experimenting. That said, Rachel was high. All the girls, besides Quinn, seemed extra amped. But Rachel was the one he was worried about.
“I believe our performance sufficiently swayed Ms. Pillsbury to the girls’ side, just as she should be,” Berry babbled, hands flailing. Of course, her hands were shaking and her breath was hitching.
Puck wasn’t certain why he’d been chosen to deal with Berry. Other than the fact that Quinn had drug Finn off after giving Puck that peeved Queen Bee look he’d always hated, yet answered to.
Mostly, though, it was because everybody else had somebody. Santana and Brittany had Matt and Mike, Mercedes had Kurt, Tina had Artie, and Quinn had Finn, but Berry was all alone.
And high. He couldn’t forget that.
He gently grabbed her wrists, hoping it would keep her from accidentally smacking him in the face.
“Berry, breathe,” he said, suddenly wishing he’d just left her to come down by herself.
“While normally I am quite capable of controlling my breathing due to years of intense practice, today I seem unable,” Rachel said, voice pitching into hysterics territory.
Then she seemed to topple into him, face burying into his chest as her breathing hitched. He was a little shocked, so excuse him for just standing there like an idiot. Finally, he let go of her wrists and wrapped his arms cautiously around her. She burrowed closer and it was odd that he was just realizing what a compact little body Berry had going on under all that crazy.
“You’re very stable,” she muttered into his chest, arms still locked tight around him. “The room was spinning but now that I have something to hang onto, I’m nearly positive I’m no longer in any danger of falling.”
Puck rolled his eyes up to the ceiling before heaving a sigh and picking her up with as little gropage as possible. It just seemed like a bad idea because she’d probably try to defend himself and she’d probably accidentally take his nuts off and his mother eventually wanted legitimate grandchildren.
“What’re you doing?” she squeaked, clutching at him awkwardly.
“I’m not gonna just stand here until this all wears off,” Puck said, moving closer to the chair in the corner. Janitor’s closets probably weren’t supposed to have chairs stashed in the corner so the stoners could have a place to sit but that was why Mr. Dobson was so cool. “We’re gonna sit here until it passes.”
“But I have classes!” she said, getting shrill. She didn’t try t pull away from him, though, and that was telling.
“Berry, you can’t go to class if you can’t stand up without falling over,” he said, sitting down and carefully settling her on his lap.
What? His little sister might’ve been a freak of nature but she was his
freak of nature. He’d gotten a lot of practice handling dainty weirdoes.
“True,” she mumbled into his shoulder before sighing and relaxing fully into his chest.
Oh boy. He remembered, suddenly, why that could be such a bad thing. Her boobs, pressed into his chest and it was like instant wood.
She tensed and he blurted, “Ignore it. It’s a guy thing. Just ignore it.”
She didn’t say anything, which, for Berry, was a minor miracle. It took a few seconds but she finally relaxed back into him.
And he couldn’t help himself, alright? “You should be proud. The Puckasaurus doesn’t rise to meet just any hot body.”
Total lie, but whatever because she burst out laughing and
into tears at the same time and Puck sighed and shook his head. Chicks and drugs, man, were a bad combination.
She pulled away, sitting up enough to look him in the face. He was a little startled to realize his hand had been petting her hair, but that was another one of those instincts he’d picked up from taking care of Sarah.
“You’re being nice to me,” she said, somber. Like nobody ever was which, yeah, okay, even Mr. Schue had a pretty low tolerance level for her crazy.
“No, I’m not,” he denied without really thinking about it. Which he figured was stupid, so as soon as his brain caught up to his mouth, he corrected, “And if I am, it’s just because I want in your pants.”
She studied him for a second, then rolled her eyes and only his hand on the back of her neck kept her from toppling off his lap.
“You’re lying,” she said, hands gripping as much of his arms as she could manage and mostly focusing on his eyes. “I want to know why.”
Puck lazily flexed his guns and watched her eyes drop to her hands and a light pink flush began to work its way into her cheeks.
“Maybe that is the truth,” he said, letting his voice drop to a husky rasp as he settled his hand on her thigh, centimeters away from the hem of her skirt. Her flush burned brighter and she wiggled a little, edging his fingers just barely up her skirt. “Maybe I do want into your panties.”
She shook her head slightly, keeping her eyes on him. “If you’d just been trying to get into my underpants, you wouldn’t have told me to ignore…it.”
She glanced down and full-on blushed.
His thumb idly brushed circles on toned flesh while he watched her face and thought.
“You were alone,” he finally said. “I didn’t like it.”
She swayed into him suddenly, whole body seeming to go soft. “You really were just worried.”
He scowled. “I know what you took. Something could’ve gone wrong.”
She smiled, a real one, not that manically happy show choir smile she flashed sometimes. “Thank you.”
Puck smirked and squeezed her thigh. “No. Thank you
“Oh!” she said, swatting his chest, then shrieked as she started to slide off his lap.
He tightened his hands, yanking, and sending her crashing into his chest instead of the floor.
Her hands fisted in his shirt and she blinked owlishly at him.
“Fuck it,” he said, going with instinct.
He cupped her cheeks and softly brushed his lips across hers. Because he was a dude
and she had a tight little body and she was sitting in his lap and, damn it, he understood being alone.
He pulled away and watched as she dazedly blinked open her eyes.
“Let me preface this by saying,” she started, eyes still soft, “that you will not
be getting into my underpants.”
Then she was kissing him for real as her arms snaked around his neck and shifting so she straddled him. He had a bad moment where he thought she was about to knee him in the nuts, so he helped guide her leg to the other side of his waist and if his hand slid up as she slid down, well, it was all for the good of the cause.
And that was about as far as he pushed because she was still kind of high and he was somebody’s baby daddy and Santana’s sexing buddy and Rachel Berry was the commitment type.
Still, it wasn’t the worst two hours he’d ever spent.