sixwordstories | (no subject)

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No.

Edited 2012-08-28 02:57 (UTC)

You don't wanna see me taking it all off? Come on, babe. I could do that. It'd be hot.

Did you actually pay any attention to that movie, Noah? It's about an unfulfilled middle age man who can't catch a break and still doesn't manage to by the time the movie is over, not one that matters anyway, his infatuation with a slutty, engaged pyshcology major, and an unfulfilled young adult who turns into a drug addicted ass with no regard for the well-being of the friend who tried to help him get on his feet and his bitch of an older sister. Both men just happen to take their clothes off for a living

Edited 2012-08-28 19:27 (UTC)

I just saw the part where the dudes take their clothes off and have sweet names and rake in the dough.

I mean, I'm Puck. I could totally come up with a BAMF nickname. My name's perfect for it.

I bet I could make enough in New York to get us a decent place.

If that movie is in any way indicative of how the male exotic dancing business is run behind the scenes, that's the last thing I want you doing.

...I didn't watch the movie. I saw the preview, and what I saw was a dude like me taking his clothes off and making bank.

And come on, I would have a fuckin' awesome stage name.

I saw the movie. No. It was all...drugs and drinking and false enhancements and touching other women and one of the men, Matt Bomer's character? He was encouraging other characters to sleep with his wife.

...You didn't tell me that. [He pauses, cocking his head.] This one of those chick things you did with Satan, and she yells at me in Spanish when I want details?

Boner looks just like Blaine's brother. And, fuck, nobody is gonna do you. Just me. [Oh, and they're technically "not in a relationship". Oh, please. Just give it up, Puckerman.]

[She shrugs.] Brittany likes Channing Tatum. [But there's no way Santana's going to let her girl go see dudes get naked without her and there's also no way Santana's going to go to a movie about dudes getting naked without some form of extra entertainment. Hence Rachel.]

Bomer, Noah. [She just shakes her head, ducking it a little to hide her blush behind her bangs. So they went to prom together, everyone pretty much has a clear understanding that Puckleberry is back on ~~except Puckleberry~~, but that doesn't mean she wants him to broadcast their sex life in the middle of the Lima Bean.]

...Which one do you like? [He asks, with a raised eyebrow and a bit of a smirk, arms crossed over his chest. This could get interesting.] Satan behave?

Huh? [That's what he said, Rachel. Boner.]

I like Channing too. Alex Pettyfer looks like a tool and Matt Bomer looks like Blaine's brother. The guy who plays Eric Delko from that awful, bloody and inaccurate show you like was too skinny. Oh! There was...Tarzan. I was...ironically attracted to his badboy image, I suppose you could say. [She rolls her eyes.] I don't know what Santana could have done in a movie theater that does not constitute behaving to you.

Bomer. Not...Boner. Bah-Mer. Don't be deliberately vulgar. [She swats at his arm and then steps forward to order her smoothie.]

Edited 2012-09-02 03:41 (UTC)

CSI. That show is badass. [He corrects her, without even thinking.] Satan and I got into all sorts of shit at the movies. Good times. She just sit there and watch the movie or what? [Pausing for a moment, he adds.] You behave? Looking at all those dudes?

...Boner. [He nods, his eyes sparkling in deliberately mischief.] Got it.

It's entirely inaccurate. And disgusting. [She doesn't miss a beat to remind him of that either. CSI just isn't her thing.] I don't really want to hear about your escapades with Santana in Lima's various public places. I was also watching the movie, not Santana, so I assume that she did indeed watch as well. [The look she gives him is familiar, fond, but nonetheless irritated.] I'm not sure what you think I would get up to in a movie theater alone with two of my female friends.

[Rolling her eyes, she steps aside so that he can order and pay, because she's got to have some sort of potty mouth tax.]

I could totally do that someday. [He slides his sunglasses from his pocket, putting them on and looking serious, mugging for an invisible camera.] I need some kinda punchline.

[He's playing with friendly fire here. I'm not sure what you think I would get up to in a movie theater alone with two of my female friends. He grins.] You really gotta ask? Shit, babe. That's, like, a fantasy. You tell me what would happen in a movie theater with Satan and Britt.

[Large iced coffee, because he clearly needs the caffeine. Mmmmhmm. And he snags a gigantic chocolate-chip cookie for both of them - probably not vegan, but he'll still offer her a bite, and it looks amazing, so she'd be crazy to decline - and pulls out his wallet to pay. She's his girl; he doesn't mind paying. She keeps him well-supplied in cookies, anyway.]

Be a Crime Scene Investigator? You could. I think you have to go to college for that, but you could. [Not that Rachel's ever going to be the person that tells Puck he isn't capable of something like that. That he's not smart enough or something.] No. Horatio gets entirely worn out after about two episodes.

I already told you what happened. We watched the movie and then went to Breadstix. Remember? You picked me up from there after work. [And then they went to the park and he pushed her on the carousel and they sat on the swings and shared a grape slushie but they're not a couple at all.]

[She moves to the end of the line and they call her name, hand over her drink. She won't take part of the cookie but she'll taste the chocolate later when they're in his truck and they're sitting on the outskirts of Lima because it's just too hot to do anything but laze around in his truck with the AC on (or off and no clothes at all) and watch the city and talk and sing loud and badly along with the radio.] Would you consider that as a career choice? Honestly? [So maybe he was just joking but she isn't, the way she glances up at him with big, earnest eyes, lips around the straw of her drink.]

I don't they break out dead bodies in college to teach you. [He shrugs.] Would be a pretty sweet job, you know? I could totally do that. [He flicks his sunglasses up with a serious pout.] Wax on. Wax off. [That's the closest to a punchline he's gonna get right now.]

...That's not a fantasy. [He makes a face. Come on, Rachel, you know him better than that. Three Girls One Puck is totally in his spank bank.] But you saved me a bunch of breadsticks, so, that was cool. I liked that.

[He pauses for a second, jaw slightly loose, watching the way her tongue curls around the straw, lips tight. Um. Yeah. Pucky Puck appreciates the view.] Totally. I'd be a fuckin' awesome stripper. If Trouty Mouth can work it, so can I.

I believe they do. People donate their bodies to science and stuff. I know Daddy did some cadaver work but that was medical school. [But hey, Leroy could totally be of use when it came to studying that kind of stuff if Puck chose to go that way. Rolling her eyes at his "punchline", Rachel bounces up on her toes to press a quick peck to his pouted lips.] You're silly.

I'm sorry my life isn't a porno, Noah. [Rachel deadpans, shrugging. She never eats the breadsticks when she goes out with her friends or her Dads, so Noah always gets her share.] I liked the carousel. Even though I'm still convinced you were trying to make me throw up.

[Dropping her drink from her lips, she props her knuckles against her hips and stomps one foot.] Noah. You are a child. [She points up at him, then swats at his arm and moves aside so he can get his drink.] You know exactly what I was talking about. Would you honestly consider a job as a Crime scene investigator?

I know they have that place where they dump the bodies in the south someplace. They, like, test how they die. [He means the Body Farm at the University of Tennessee. Maybe they can scoot down there to visit Satan if she's in Kentucky...] But I don't want more college. I suck at that stuff.

...Me, too. [He nods solemnly.] That would be awesome. You, me, a camera. Maybe another hot chick for you.

[He's a child? He's a child? Yep, okay, you stomp your foot, Miss Rachel Berry. You do that. He's just going to smirk at you.] Yeah, if I didn't have to go to more school. Still think I'd make a better stripper. You know, look at this body. I work out. [He begins to hum, "I'm Sexy and I Know It." This is what Glee Club does to a man.]

[Rachel doesn't know what he's talking about but all she can think of is that true crime documentary she saw with her Dads about the funeral home that was just throwing bodies in the nearby swamps to save money and reuse coffins or something like that.] No you don't. You're very smart. You're just lazy. [Not the same thing as being bad at it to Rachel.]

[She just rolls her eyes again, reattaching her lips to the straw of her drink so that she doesn't say anything else to give him any ideas.]

Oh wipe that smirk off your face. Jerk. [Just for that, she turns on her heel, not waiting for him as she heads back out to his truck.] I know you do. [He's bench pressed her more than once at more than one party when they're both too tipsy to remember that their friends aren't supposed to have more proof that they're a couple.] School or not, I think you'd make a good CSI. Better firefighter, but a good CSI. [She's been gunning for that one ever since he mentioned it as a joke. But come on. Firefighters. And the FDNY cough.]

[She might not be able to say anything else to give him ideas, but the way her lips are wrapped tight around that fat smoothie straw, the way her cheeks hollow gently as she sucks? That's giving him plenty of ideas. In fact, there's one idea right now that's making it fucking difficult to walk, if you get his drift.]

[He follows her, hand wrapped casually around his coffee, still smirking as he watches her ass bounce. He can't deny that there are definite perks to watching her walk away with a bit of an attitude. That ass is perky as fuck.] I could be a firefighter stripper. You know. 'Cause I'm smokin' hot. [He calls ahead to her, laughing. It's too much fun to tease her this way.]

[She waits for him at his truck, still sipping at her drink since he doesn't have auto-lock doors. Usually she'd lean against it but a few days ago, the outside metal got way hotter than it should have in the 10 minutes it took them to run into the gas station and get snacks and condoms and when she'd leaned against it, she'd gotten a nasty shock and a red mark on her arm that had lasted all day.]

[So maybe when he'd kissed it better and initiated round 3, it didn't hurt so bad, but it sucked before and after that. At his idea, she shudders.] Sam was a firefighter. [Not that she doesn't think Sam is or was attractive, even that night, but the embarrassment for both of them and how awful she'd felt, knowing he was wasting his childhood like that...she doesn't want those flashbacks.]

[She tries to be all cute and casual, standing by his truck, waiting for him to open the doors. She could have easily stolen his keys and hopped in the car herself, maybe locked him out for shits and giggles, but he's pretty certain that she likes the royal treatment and all that chivalry stuff that chicks dig.]

Huh. I woulda thought he was a cowboy. Or maybe one of those blue dudes from Avatar. [Do they even have Avatar strippers? Hmmm. That might be a question for his bro, when Rachel and Mercedes are off doing diva things.] Firefighters do calendars, right? I could totally rock that shit.

[Well that, and he always laughs at her because she has to literally climb into his truck and she's had quite enough of him laughing at her for now, thank you. And her skirt is too short for that today. It's hot.]

Nope. Firefighter. Can we drop it now? [Once he unlocks the door, she leans in to sit her drink down and turns her back to the open door, one hand on the inside of the door and the other on the top of the passenger's seat. With one little jump, she manages to lift herself up and into the truck without flashing the whole parking lot. Hell yeah girl's got some upper body strength. She works out~.] I think so? I don't know, I've never met a firefighter. We could do research. [Girl's all about research too.]

[He appreciates the heat and that is all he is gonna say.]

I should talk to him about that. [As soon as her back is turned, he snatches her smoothie from the cupholder and manages to slurp a mouthful before she hops into the seat and turns around. Mmmm. Delicious. He grins innocently, the keys finding the ignition; the truck roars to life.] So, where we goin'? Bacon cheeseburgers? [He's only halfway teasing.]

Or maybe you shouldn't because that's Sam's business. [Rachel replies. She doesn't much mind him stealing her drink. He knows she can't really steal much from him, so payback is minimal, but she gets it in when she can.] You can have one. Only if we go to that place with the veggie burgers too. [There's exactly one restaurant in Lima with a full vegan alternative menu, but Rachel still can't ever remember the name.]

He doesn't have to say shit if he doesn't want to. Doesn't mean I can't ask, right? [Come on, Rachel. You're the queen of inappropriate questions at awkward times - or, at least, you used to be. Puckerman's just the king of inappropriate.]

["That place" is one of their frequent haunts; their veggie burgers actually aren't all that bad, but he'll never admit that publicly.] If you're hungry. I don't care, you know? I could go for a PB&J back at your house. [Assuming you be all housewifey and make it for him.] So, you figure out yet how you're gonna sneak into my room at Nationals?

Yes, Noah, that's exactly what that means. [She may be the queen of inappropriate questions, but at least she has a little tack. She's just trying to pass it on to Noah, that's all.]

I'm not that hungry, but if you are...you know, watching you eat usually makes me hungry. [Even if he likes awful meat and meat by-products. Buckling her seatbelt, she rolls her eyes.] You mean the room you're going to share with at least 3 other guys? One of whom is probably my ex boyfriend?

Bro code, babe. [Locker room talk. He, on the other hand, has no tact. Sam dishes it out plenty but he can take it, so, he's not worried about offending the dude or anything.]

M'hungry for... [He glances at Rachel's face and just smirks.] Dude. You should share a room with Britt and Satan. I don't know how many people Schue's gonna stick in each room, but if she puts you guys together, I can just sleep with you. Fuckin' easy. [That leaves Artie, Finn, Chang, Homeschool, Irish, and The Gays to split rooms up somehow, and Q, Tina, Sugar, and Mercedes to figure it out for the girls. Hey, Kurt and Blaine could share with Sam and Mercedes... Chang would probably want to crash with Tina. Some shit like that. There's enough people fucking in Glee to figure this shit out.] We should work it out before we go.

No, Noah. [Rachel never wants to relieve that experience with Sam in the strip club. She was still a virgin at that point, of course, and Sam was a friend and...it was just an awful, traumatizing experience.]

[She rolls her eyes again, but the blush lighting up her cheeks and neck completely betray her. Not that she cares, really, since she's sure no matter what she says (besides No) it'll happen by the end of the day.] Mr. Schue is going to be making sure the couples stay separate like he always does. And besides, we have one day and night to practice once we get there and I will not be distracted.

Edited 2012-09-14 02:21 (UTC)

You can sing your high notes when I make you come. [He offers slyly. Mr. Schue, making sure that the couples stay separate? Yeah, okay. It hasn't worked in the past. It sure as fuck isn't gonna work now. He'll be in her bed and everybody will cover for him, 'cause it's gonna be musical fucking rooms at Nationals.]

Seriously. I'll help you practice your song.

[She reaches out and punches him (Don't tuck your thumb in or you'll break it, just like he taught her. Rachel gets scrappy, but she thinks Puck was worried she'd hurt herself since she has no actual form, so after she went after Azimio for slushying Blaine just after his surgery, he taught her to punch.), since she's sure she'll get a headache if she rolls her eyes much more.]

You will? [Noah has a small part in their big group number, but Rachel's not as worried about that as she is about her solo.]

[She punches him, her knuckles hitting the sensitive muscle of his arm.] Fuck! What was that for? [Of course, he isn't mad; he was the one who taught her how to do that, to use for the times she needed to protect herself when he wasn't there to defend her honor and all that shit. And he's being serious! She practically screeches when he does her good.]

Uh. [He looks at her like she's crazy as he pulls out of their parking spot. She's totally batshit.] Yeah? 'Course I'll help you. S'not like I gotta practice anything. [Because Schue's man-boner for Finnocence is apparent. For some reason, Noah feels like he dodged a bullet there...] Hey, call my phone for a second? I wanna make sure I didn't leave it there.

It was because you are just ridiculously insufferable sometimes. [She shakes her head and closes her eyes, still working on trying not to roll them again. Of course he's talented in bed and of course she doesn't hesitate to let him know that in the moment, but does he really have to turn everything into an allusion to their sex life?]

Okay. I know you don't really like Celine Dion... [She was totally obsessed with My Heart Will Go On for about a week after they re-released Titanic in 3D and she distinctly remembers him pulling her into the guest bathroom at her house, sticking a washcloth into her mouth and burying his head underneath her skirt with her Dads just downstairs simply so she would stop humming it.] Sure, gimme a second. [Tugging out her phone, she holds down the 3 on her keypad for just a few seconds before it starts to dial his phone number.]

S'true! [He protests, his hand grabbing hers again to settle on the seat between them. He tends to make persistent comments as to how he is in bed and how she is in bed and how he really wants to just take her right.fucking.now. The way he sees it, she really doesn't have any reason to get pissed, especially if it's just the two of them present. It's not like he brags about it in front of her dads, and even if their friends happen to be there, he's complimenting her. It's an ego boost.]

I don't. But you're singing about us so what am I gonna say, shut up? Hell, no. [His method of dealing with My Heart Will Go On ended up kind of shooting himself in the foot, 'cause it got to the point where she'd just hum the fucking song so he'd drag her someplace and drop to his knees with the full intention of burying his mouth against her body. It was kind of like a weird version of Pavlov.]

[Oh, goody. His phone blinks to life, the ringtone playing muffled on the floor, kicked beneath his seat. He pulls into a stop and fishes it out with one hand, dropping it onto the well on the console.] Thanks.

Yeah, I know it is, I deal with you on a daily basis! [Rachel shoots back, turning his words against him. She's not so much pissed as she is...well, nothing. But she knows he knows talking like that riles her up, even if it's all gone a second later and she thinks he does it on purpose and that's kind of irritating.]

Who said I was singing about us? [Rachel shrugs. She's teasing, but still.] We have a specific time period to reference in our performance according to the Nationals theme for the year and that happens to be my favorite song from the period. [Another shrug, and she curls her lips around her straw to hide her smile.]

[Glancing down at his phone, she raises an eyebrow then looks back up at him.] Since when do you listen to The Wanted? [Boy bands? Not Noah's thing.]

[Well, he's not gonna deny that. If that's the worst insult she can throw at him, well, they're doing pretty good in his book.]

I'm the only person who ever touched you like this and held you like that, babe. You're drawing on us when you sing the fucking song. [At least, that better be what she's thinking about when she sings it. They're good together, but that doesn't mean he doesn't worry about her going back to Finnocence sometimes. Hell, it was their M.O. for the first two and a half years...] Out of every song you could do, you pick that one, babe. [He shakes his head in amused disbelief, grinning widely.] We gotta have us some nights of endless pleasure after we take Nationals.

[One raised eyebrow meets another. Times like this remind him of how much he's learned from Glee Club.] ♪ I'm glad you came ♪ [He sings. Well, maybe he's not glad right now, 'cause she didn't come yet. But! He'll be glad once they reach their destination, if they can wait that long. Bitches, this is Noah Puckerman trying to be subtle. Nobody's gonna hear that song and actually listen to the lyrics and twist them the way he does. Except for maybe Rachel, and that's 'cause the lyrics are directed at her. And she's used to him being a dick.]

Well I already did Taking Chances. [Rachel shrugs, still grinning, teasing. She barely even speaks to Finn anymore, and when they both have to stay back for practice after everyone leaves, she always invites Noah to stay or gives him money to go get them food and then come back to pick her up, since they ride to school in her car or his truck (usually his truck; more room for sex) more often than not now.] Don't we already do that now though?

[Her hand shoots out to punch him again.] You're a jerk. Let's go, you're buying me a burger since you've been so awful today.

Took you long enough to take the chance. [He counters, winking playfully. Hey, she's with him now, and that is what matters. It's more than obvious that she's Noah's - and vice versa for sure - because one is rarely seen without the other. He leaves a little earlier than normal to be able to pick her up for school, giving her a little boost and catching a glimpse of panty as he helps her into the seat. He brings her home, too; he likes to drive, and to be with her, and Finnocence stays away from the two of them when they're together.] Yeah, but I mean, we fuckin' celebrate when we win. We gotta do something... crazy. It's gonna be our last Glee Club competition, we're gonna take Nationals. We gotta celebrate that, you and me.

[She lands another punch. Fuck. Good thing he loves this girl.] Sounds good. Two bacon burgers.

[She sighs, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. At least she smiles at that one, blushing a little. They barely discuss those two years of back and forth. They don't matter. They're together now, even if neither one of them had really admitted it and they deny the fact that they're totally fuckin' in love to all of their friends.] I suppose. I'm sure you have some idea as to how we should celebrate. [He mentioned "endless pleasure" but that's how he always wants to celebrate in one way or another. They already made a sex tape on prom night, so she's honestly a little worried now about what he can pull out of his hat for this one.]

Okay, that's it. [She throws her hands up.] You've just lost your oral privileges. I'm done.

[She flushes and he just smiles. They're basically together now, even if neither of them will admit it. Santana's been yelling about Puckleberry forever, and his best Lesbro finally stopped giving him hell about it after prom night. At least, he figures that it's temporary. Santana never seems to stop busting his balls.] S'Chicago. We'll figure something out. 'Least I'm gonna fix it so we get to sleep together. [Maybe it'll involve dinner away from the rest of the group, a night to themselves... maybe they'll go see a show. He has cash stashed away from opening pools for the beginning of the season... They can do something fun.]

...Two bacon burgers for me, and a veggie burger for you! [He emphasizes, tugging the wheel to one side as he protests innocently.] You didn't let me finish! [If he had a dime for every time he's said that...]

[And, please. Losing his oral privileges? She'll be begging him to put his mouth on her ten minutes after they get home, if not sooner.]

I'm sure you are. [Even if he's not tossing kids in dumpsters or throwing slushies in kids faces anymore, Puck still has his ways of getting what he wants whenever he wants. And she's sure that will extend to this game of musical chairs (musical hotel rooms) that's about to transpire between them and their friends in Chicago.]

You did that on purpose. [Rachel knows he did. Just to annoy her.] You said it like that on purpose because you knew I'd get annoyed and you are just the most insufferable... [She covers her face, shaking her head. He's such a jerk and she isn't really upset, he's just so predictable and sometimes she wishes she could just put him in a headlock (with her arms. Her thighs don't seem to be doing the job).]

[Yeah, when he's being a good boy. She's not above blue-balling him when he annoys her. He's just usually smart enough to fix himself before it gets that far.]

[Well, duh. It's their last trip to Nationals, their last fucking hurrah as a Glee Club, and it's his first big trip with his girl, even if it's for a school-sanctioned competition. (Although, honestly, what better place and time to... he deliberately doesn't finish that thought.) Especially if Rachel wins them Nationals, 'cause he's not self-important enough to think that anybody in this damn club is as vital as she is to their success, then she should get whatever she fucking wants. She might not demand it from their friends, but he'll put it in no uncertain terms that girl deserves an O or two.]

Maybe. [And that's all he's gonna say about that, because the Puckerone still has some instinct when it comes to self-preservation.] You wanna pick up some of those awesome herb fries, too?

[Maybe. She knows that Maybe means Yes and so she folds her arms, pouting and sinking a little in her seat. Her...whatever he is is a jerk.] I feel as though I should be offended by the fact that you take such obvious pleasure in teasing me nearly constantly. [But then he offers her rosemary fries and...ugh. Still pouting, she turns her attention to her skirt, fiddling with the hem, mumbling.] Yes.

S'what I do to my friends. I bust their balls. I just - you're my girl. M'the same way with Satan. [Not that Santana's his girl in the same way that Rachel is - so to speak - but they're both girls. He's an equal-opportunity ball-buster.]

[He also knows one of her foodie weaknesses - these dumb rosemary french fries from this tiny little cafe that are actually pretty fucking awesome - and that's the ace up his sleeve for today, the thing that he breaks out to win him a few extra points when he needs them most.] I'll buy you a big one. [He promises.] Share it with me?

[So his point isn't put across very well, since for a second, Rachel can't decide if she's being looped in with his guy friends or with his lesbian ex-girlfriend/fuck buddy. And to be honest, she's not sure which is worse. But she understands what he's saying after a second and stops side-eying him, nodding.]

[She just keeps watching him for a second, still pouting a little. It's not fair, how easily he can just push her buttons like that. But...rosemary fries. And when he pulls out of the parking lot, both hands on the steering wheel, she unfolds her arms a little and sits up, anticipating his right hand dropping into the seat to curl around hers like it always does and she decides maybe she's not that mad at him anymore.] Of course.

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1/3

Re: 2/3

Re: 3/3

is this our sweet caroline current or future or what?

Sweet Caroline, after prom.

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post-prom, pre-Nationals? ^^

Sure!

dammit sws.

Re: dammit sws.

same set list? does F take lead on Paradise?

Yeah, 'cause Schue's got a boner for F in every universe.

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we can probably wrap this soon

I think this is good.