Skin Deep
Puck allowed himself to relax into the embrace all the while appreciating the closeness between them. The distance between them earlier had made him a little sick, when all he really wanted to do was comfort her in the best way he knew how. Physically, yes. Only every once in a while he would be good at handling emotional problems, but they could work on that later when she wanted to talk about it more. For now, embracing her was enough to settle his worries enough. His hands subconsciously squeezed the robe between his fingers that were around her back tightly, as if he would stay in place if she tried to push him away again. He trusted that she wouldn’t bother a second time.
“Because of me. Too much has happened between us,” he sighed a little when he realized that was actually true. Puck didn’t want to admit it to anybody, but he was still afraid that Quinn would turn around and hurt him. Or better yet, go running back to Finn. Or Sam. Now that he thought about it, up until that moment, he was certain Quinn had put him second many times of the last year. They had a baby together, and shortly after she was with Sam. Even after saying he loved her at the hospital. Well, whatever. Past it the past.
He bit his lip uneasily. Tomorrow was his flight to New York to visit Shelby and his daughter. He should of been packing his things and preparing to see his daughter for the first time since birth, but this was Santana, and shit had just got real. He couldn’t leave. Not even if he wanted to. “I’ll stay. But I’m going to be gone for a little while after tomorrow.” he murmured with a slight frown on his features.
Santana remained largely quiet through his response and had silently instead busied herself with dipping her fingers across the creases of muscle on his bare arms. It was a tendency that served as a mixture of wordless understanding and listening - neither of them were good with words - and simply admiring his prime physical form. Santana didn’t say much except snort derisively at his admittance for the drama that had gone down between him and Quinn in the last year. Along with BabyGate Santana had had to be on the receiving end of both of her friends sob stories - with Quinn there were bitchy rants about how useless Puckerman was and with Puck there was angry, bitter distracting sex.
Slipping one of her small hands to loop around his wrist - she never had really gotten the hang of the whole traditional lovey couple fingers-laced together thing - Santana tugged him towards her bedroom; thankful she wouldn’t have to face the night alone in a barren house and nothing to stop her from taking her frustrations out on herself. “Where are you going?” she asked into the darkness as she bossily guided him towards her room.
Stopping outside her bedroom door and turning to him on her heel to glare at him with a thunderous look on her face. “Also’s,” Santana began, her eyes flashing up to him with that old familiar spark of brewing anger and rage bursting across her eyes, “This … what I told you tonight. No one else finds out,” she warned, her small hands balling into fists at his front, the thin fabric bunching in her clenched palms. “I’m trusting you. So don’t fuck it up or I will break you in half,” she glared up at him. Granted, Santana was a full head shorter than him and Puck was a dude, a fairly ripped one and a football player to boot, but the danger in her voice coupled with her reputation of being able to destroy anyone who dared piss her off was enough of a warning.
