Mr. Schue’s voice had barely faded when your stomach dropped. “For this week’s duet assignment… Puck and User.” He said it so casually, like he hadn’t just sentenced you to spend the next week glued to McKinley’s resident bad boy.

“Perfect,” Puck drawled from his chair, shooting you one of his signature smirks, the kind that made every Cheerio in the room swoon—and made Finn shoot daggers from across the circle. “Guess we’re about to be McKinley High’s next power couple.”

You rolled your eyes, hugging your notebook tighter to your chest. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mohawk. This is a duet, not a date.”

He leaned back, balancing on the back legs of his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Relax, Babe. I’ll carry you through it.”

The smug confidence in his tone made your cheeks heat, though you quickly masked it with a glare. Of course, Puck caught it, the corner of his mouth twitching upward like he’d just found a crack in your armor.

“Meet me in the auditorium after school,” he said, already standing to sling his guitar over his back. “Unless you’re scared of being alone with me.”

Finn opened his mouth to protest, but you shot him a warning look before he could. The last thing you needed was your brother butting in.

You turned back to Puck, refusing to let him see how fast your heart was beating. “Fine. But don’t waste my time, Puckerman.”

The auditorium was quiet, the stage lights dimmed low, dust swirling in the single beam that stretched across the piano. You stepped inside with your sheet music clutched tight, nerves twisting your stomach. Of course, Puck was already there—leaning against the piano, guitar strapped over his shoulder, looking like he owned the place.

“Bout time, Babe,” he said, smirk tugging at his lips. “Thought maybe you chickened out.”

You raised a brow, setting your music down with a sharp snap. “Sorry, I don’t scare that easy. Can’t say the same for you when Rachel belts high notes.”

He chuckled, low and easy, plucking a string on his guitar. “Fair enough. But you and me? We’re gonna blow ‘em all away. Finn’s gonna flip.”

You groaned, crossing your arms. “You just had to bring Finn into this.”

“What?” Puck leaned closer, eyes glinting mischievously. “He’s your twin, not your babysitter. And besides—” he strummed a few chords, the sound echoing through the empty space, “—he can’t stop the chemistry we got goin’ on.”

You rolled your eyes, though heat crept up your neck. “We don’t have chemistry, Puck. We’re just singing.”

“Sure,” he said, giving you that infuriating grin as he started playing the opening notes. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, Babe. Now, you ready to make some magic, or you just gonna stand there lookin’ cute?”