Let's Get Lost, Baby, You and I
Originally posted bysmc_27at Let's Get Lost, Baby, You and I
Title: Let's Get Lost, Baby, You and I
Chapter: 1/2
Rating: R
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: He flops back onto her bed and says something about the air conditioning being perfect, and she's thinking of ways to tell him she's leaving for a week and a half.
Word Count: 19,000 (total)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
The dress she wears to graduation is black with green leaves on it and little bows holding it closed at the back.
It takes exactly 12 minutes and 30 seconds after she arrives at the party at Santana's house for Noah to untie one of them.
"Stop," she giggles. He's untied the bottom one, of course, because he's always telling her it's a shame he's never seen her panties 'legit', whatever that means. "Tie it."
"I can't do bows and shit. I don't."
"Well, you seemed to have no trouble at all unfastening it. Noah, please. My dads are here."
He rolls his eyes, sets his can of Sprite on the railing on the back deck and she tries (and fails, obviously) to watch over her shoulder as he ties the bow. It's terrible, and she can tell when she runs her fingers over it.
"Oh, good god," Kurt sighs as he walks over. "Step aside, Testosterone." Rachel laughs at the nickname, even if it isn't really funny.
"Later," Noah says. "Rach, we still on for Wednesday?"
"Yes!" she answers excitedly. "Yes, definitely."
He winks and walks away, and she's been looking forward to their trip to Cleveland to see The Script since the show was announced. Why he'd ask if they're still on, she doesn't know. He's probably teasing her. He does that a lot.
However, her friendship with him has been one of her favourite things since it really started up last summer. He was hired to clean her pool and she was working at what was apparently his favourite smoothie bar, and one night after her shift he was waiting there in the parking lot and asked if she wanted to hang out or some shit. He's eloquent.
That became their Thursday night tradition, until she was in her back yard on a Monday when he came to clean the pool, so that became another one. He called her to go to a movie one afternoon and she asked him for a ride home from work one night when her dad couldn't get her and she hadn't driven herself.
She thought they'd change once school started, but the first day of their senior year, he met her in the parking lot and they walked together. They had homeroom and English together, as well as Mr. Schuester's Spanish class and glee.
Basically, they couldn't escape one another. She's not totally certain they would have anyway.
Kurt sips from his plastic cup of sparkling mineral water and arches his brow sky high.
"It's just adorable that you two think you're friends."
He has this theory that men and women can't be friends unless one of them is either in a relationship or gay. She doesn't believe it for a second.
So what if her eyes happen to land on Noah wherever he is at any given moment? It's easy to pick him out of the crowd because he's the only one who's untucked his shirt (actually, she doesn't think it was ever tucked in to begin with) and his mohawk kind of sets him apart. Not necessarily in a good way, but she's ceased criticizing because he doesn't seem to care anyway.
"We're friends," she repeats for what feels like the millionth time. "Noah would pursue a girl he was interested in. He wouldn't waste time being her friend. So stop that, and please go get me some more food."
"My god, you're demanding," Kurt says dramatically. "The way you rationalize would be sweet if it wasn't so tragic." She rolls her eyes, then smiles overly sweetly and holds out her empty paper plate to him. "Um, no. You have two perfectly good legs, darling."
He walks off and she shakes her head after him.
Actually, it's been said her legs are her best feature.
When she leaves with Noah at the end of the night, it's just because her fathers left a few hours ago, it's late and dark and Noah tells her she's not going anywhere on her own. And she ignores the looks she's getting from Kurt and Santana, because those two don't know what they're talking about.
... ... ...
She's glad she's not working this summer. More likely than not that's a terrible idea, considering how expensive it's going to be to live on her own, but her fathers are behind this idea, too, her just enjoying her last summer at home, her last summer before she has to grow up. For her, the first week anyway, this entails sitting in her backyard in her bikini with her iPod on and working on her tan. She bought this bathing suit in May and her dads will only let her wear it at home. Sure, she's 18 and she can, realistically, do what she wants, but there's not a whole lot of fabric to this thing. That's kind of the best thing about it. Anyway, Santana is the only one who's seen it, and Rachel doesn't necessarily care. She doesn't need or want a boyfriend anyway.
Noah comes around the side of the house some time after 2:00, says, "Holy fucking Christ, Rachel," and looks her up and down. She gives him a look, because really, it's not even that bad. "Why don't you just get naked?"
"It's not that revealing!"
Honestly, it's just plum purple and a halter, and the bottoms are admittedly very low riding and have little black bows at the sides. Okay, it's rather revealing, but not in a bad way. Plus, her body is fantastic (she has a daily date with her elliptical to keep it that way) and she's young, and she figures what better time to wear a bathing suit like this?
"Uh. Sure it's not," he says, shaking his head.
"What are you doing here?" she asks. He pulls his shirt off and lays down on the lounge chair next to hers.
"Not being at home."
He leaves it at that. She doesn't pry.
Ever since he was accepted to OSU his mother has been on his case about leaving home. Rachel doesn't understand that. She's incredibly proud of him herself, and she's just his friend. She knows his mother is happy he's doing something with his life, but evidently Mrs. Puckerman thought he'd do it here in Lima. Rachel thinks Noah resents his mother a little bit for always just assuming that was all he'd ever do, stay in this town and go to classes at the OSU campus and live here forever. It's caused a lot of tension and butting heads, and Rachel knows that perhaps the only person more stubborn than Noah is his mother.
When she turns so she's on her stomach, she looks over and he's staring at her.
"Okay, don't give me that look," he tells her, laughing. She smiles a little. She's not sure which look she was giving him, but it was probably the 'Are you really checking me out right now, friend?' one. "You're wearing like, a fucking coaster as a bathing suit."
She giggles and props herself up on her elbows. "A coaster? Really?"
"Whatever," he mumbles. He reaches out and drags his knuckles along the line of her side, curved because of how her back is arched. "Where'd you even get that?"
In her opinion, an awful lot of attention is being paid to what she is or isn't wearing right now.
"Why, do you want one?"
He rolls his eyes at her attempt at a joke. "Already kinda got one."
He smirks, and she shakes her head. An hour later, when he suggests they go meet up with Finn and Santana, Rachel just pulls on a pair of denim shorts and a loose-fitting tank top over her bikini. Her dads can't say anything about it if she's got clothes on over top, right?
The four of them (all just friends) have dinner on a patio and drink virgin margaritas, and Noah spends most of the evening attempting to tug the knot at the back of her neck loose.
... ... ...
She stays close to him at the concert venue. They're some of the youngest people there, and college guys are looking at her like she's a meal or something. Maybe Noah was right when he picked her up and told her the jeans she's wearing are really tight and having this low cut tank top on with a black bandeau underneath is 'totally sexy'. She thinks she looks cute. Apparently cute is very good for attracting older boys. There's one who sends her a smile, and honestly, he's very attractive and if she didn't think Noah would hate her for ditching him, she might pluck up the courage to approach this guy.
Noah drops his arm around her shoulder protectively when some drunk guy ambles past and says, "Hey, baby," and tries to touch her hair.
Things get better when the band starts. She's got adrenaline coursing through her, and it's terrible for her voice to be singing along so loudly, but she forgets to care when Breakeven starts.
She and Noah sang this together after she and Finn's last breakup. So cathartic.
Noah's arm is still around her, and she leans back against him a little during one of the newer songs when he's standing behind her. She knows all the lyrics, but she doesn't sing them because Noah is and she wants to hear him. His hand is on her hip and his voice is in her ear.
This might be the best summer she's ever had.
... ... ...
He texts her that his mom is driving him crazy again and asks Rachel to meet him at the park so he can get out of his house and talk it out instead of hitting something. Well, she's the one to suggest the talking. He agrees, reluctantly.
He tells her the whole story, how his mom made some remark about him abandoning her or something. Rachel knows the situation isn't good, that these comments have been bothering him more than he wants to let on.
"She's just emotional," Rachel says rationally. "She doesn't want you to leave and forget about her."
"I won't."
"She doesn't know that. I mean, has anyone ever come back to her?" He levels her with a look that makes her blood run cold. She shouldn't have said that. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
"Obviously not," he says angrily. "Fucking bullshit thing to say."
"I'm sorry."
"Whatever. Not everyone sleeps in their house behind the white picket fence with two daddies to bring them fucking milk and cookies."
The only thing she can think to say in response to that is, "They don't do that."
He gives her another glare. "Don't talk about my dad. You don't know shit about it."
She gets up and walks to her car before she gets too angry to speak rationally.
She knows a lot. She knows him and she remembers his dad leaving, and she knows a thing or two about being abandoned by a parent. If he's going to be selfish and forget that part, she's not going to remind him.
He calls her 10 minutes later when she's pulling into her driveway, then texts her because she didn't answer.
She tells him she can't accept his apology because she's too busy eating milk and cookies with her fathers. It's not the truth, of course, but she's positive he'll get the message.
He's on her doorstep in the morning with a smoothie in his hand, sipping from the straw as he looks at her. She knows this game, where he waits for her to talk because he doesn't want to do it first, but really, they both know she's not going to break.
"I'm a dick."
"Apology accepted."
Basically, this is how all their fights go.
... ... ...
They get drunk on Independence Day. Finn is huge and has a fake ID, but he doesn't even get asked for it when he drives to Haverville and stops at a convenience store and picks up enough vodka coolers for everyone to have more than enough.
Rachel has two and she's buzzed. Three and she's drunk. Four and she's the happiest person on the plant.
"We should always be drunk!" she claims. Kurt spits out his drink, laughing. "It feels so good, though!"
"Yeah, babe, pretty sure that's not the best thing to say," Noah tells her. Oh, whatever. What does he know about anything? She pouts until he pushes a marshmallow past her lips. They're at the park and there's no bonfire or anything, and she's not worrying about things like empty calories.
Clearly.
She holds hands with Noah as he walks her home, and she's sobered considerably since they started walking. He lets her swing their hands between them and talks about the night and the couples and all their friends, and he points out that she's acting like he's never met any of them.
"Well, I know you're not nearly as perfective as I am," she says. She starts giggling immediately. "I mean perceptive. Perceptive."
He laughs and pushes her away from him, but their hands are still joined, so he tugs her back easily and she didn't get too far to begin with. "Sure," he says. "Like you don't think you're perfect."
"I don't," she insists. He scoffs a little. "I don't. I'm not perfect. There are a lot of not perfect things about me."
"Yeah?" he asks. "Name one."
Maybe this conversation is dangerous, because it'll sound like she's fishing for compliments. But is he saying he thinks she's perfect?
"There are a lot," she says again.
He doesn't ask her about it again. Maybe because she starts skipping down the sidewalk and telling him he can't step on cracks.
She'll never forget the time she got Noah Puckerman to skip down the sidewalk with her at 1:30 in the morning.
... ... ...
"Ugh," she groans one day as he cleans her pool and she tugs her shorts down her legs. "I hate my thighs."
"You're fucking stupid," he says seriously.
She adjusts her bathing suit at her hips and turns around, because she's positive her cheeks are red and it's not from either sun or anger, and she doesn't think that's supposed to happen.
... ... ...
"I think I'm in love with Finn."
Rachel spits out her lemonade and looks at Santana as if to ask if this is one of those times when the girl jokes around and says ridiculous things just to see what peoples' reactions will be. Santana looks completely serious.
"What?"
Santana shrugs. "Is it that hard to believe?"
Rachel knows that her answer to this question will very much impact how seriously Santana pursues these feelings, and if they're genuine Rachel thinks they should be acted upon. And weirdly, she thinks it kind of makes a lot of sense.
"No," Rachel answers. "Not at all, actually." Santana lays back against her lounge chair. "But since when?"
"Dunno. Maybe since I fucked him. His cock's kind of majestic."
Rachel really needs to stop drinking things when she's talking to Santana, because she chokes on her drink this time and shoots a glare at her friend.
And Rachel wouldn't exactly call it majestic. Maybe that's just because when they were together, he was still learning how to use it.
Oh, god. She did not just think that. See, this is what happens when your two closest friends are Noah and Santana. Kurt isn't exactly an innocent either.
When they meet up with the boys later in the day, Rachel pulls Noah away from their table at the diner and asks for his help picking songs on the jukebox. There isn't actually a jukebox, she just thinks there should be one and Finn hasn't noticed the bluff yet.
Santana trips her as she walks by, and Noah catches Rachel before she can really fall. She's laughing, and he asks, "What the fuck?"
"Nothing."
"You suck as a liar."
She sticks her tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes, but looks at her like she's adorable, which she is.
"I think they're going to get together." His reaction is basically a non-reaction. "Don't you have a thought on this?"
He shrugs his shoulder. "Not really. Not all that shocking."
They watch as Finn says something to Santana, and in the middle of his sentence and serious hand waving as he explains something or tells this story, Santana grabs his face and kisses him.
Rachel laughs and then puts her face against Noah's chest, feels the rumble of his laughter beneath her cheek and his voice is amplified against her ear when he asks her if she wants to go. It leaves Finn and Santana with the bill, but they're too preoccupied to notice.
... ... ...
He flops back onto her bed and says something about the air conditioning being perfect, and she's thinking of ways to tell him she's leaving for a week and a half.
Silly, isn't it? A week and a half is no time at all, in the grand scheme of things. But a week and a half during your last summer as a kid, your last summer at home, your last summer with your best friend, it seems like a very, very long time.
Her uncle Jonathan has a cabin on Lake Erie that he and his wife and Rachel's cousins usually stay in all summer long, since they're both teachers and the kids are out of school, too. This year, the kids are older and decided they didn't want to be away from their friends. Jonathan asked her dad if they wanted to go, and her fathers jumped at the chance to get away a while and have a little family vacation before Rachel leaves for school. It's lovely, and she loves the cabin, and honestly, she could use the time away.
"I need a damn vacation," Noah grumbles, rotating his shoulder.
It's not difficult to convince her fathers to let Noah come on their 'family' vacation. When she suggests it to him, he says there's no fucking way his mom will let him, not with the way she's been acting.
Rachel is very persuasive.
And she can cry at will.
It's not even that bad. All she does is say that Noah has been stressed all year long (which is by no means a lie) and that he'll be back in only 11 days and he'll be in much better spirits for the rest of the summer. There may also be a bit about how Rachel's so upset to be parting ways with him. She just has a tear in her eye when she says how much she cares about Noah, and that's not a lie either. She just knows his mother and her ability to read into things when there's nothing to read into. Mrs. Puckerman will run away with those few words and more than likely be willing to let Noah live in Rachel's basement or something. Of course, that's not how Rachel meant it, but it wasn't an out and out lie, so she doesn't even really feel that bad about it.
"You're fucking sneaky, you know that?" he says into the phone once his mother has given him permission. He's smiling and Rachel can hear it. "She wouldn't tell me what you said."
Rachel laughs and shakes her head. "Good."
She's okay with his mother thinking she has feelings for him, but she's not okay with him thinking it. They haven't had that misunderstanding in well over a year and she's not looking to revisit it.
... ... ...
She packs snacks for the drive and Noah is in charge of music. Of course, this doesn't mean she doesn't bring her own, because she can't exactly trust him to make a playlist that won't offend her in some way, shape, or form, and she's got her iPod anyway, and oh, look, there's a playlist titled *SUMMER VACATION* and she lasts approximately two Metallica songs before she unplugs his music and puts hers on.
She stuffs a brownie into his mouth to keep him from complaining, laughs when he sputters and chews and tries to talk with his mouth full. It's disgusting and she should tell him that, but she's finding it hard to breathe and there are tears in her eyes until he smears chocolate icing across her cheek and asks if she really wants to start shit.
She's glad her fathers allowed them to drive separately. It's mostly because her dads have all these plans to go antiquing and visit all the local artisans they've always loved, and they don't want to leave Rachel and Noah without a vehicle. That's in case of emergency, but also because you can't really get anywhere from the cabin without a boat or a vehicle, and Noah's Jeep is four wheel drive and most definitely capable of getting them wherever they might possibly to go.
It's nearing 3:00 in the afternoon when they pull up to the cabin and he's looking out the windshield with an impressed expression on his face.
"I thought you said it was a cabin."
"It is!" she chirps happily, unbuckling her seat belt.
"Rachel, this place is a fucking house," he laughs.
Well, maybe it could be, but it's not. No one is here a good eight months of the year. Her uncle invested very wisely in the dot com boom and built this cabin because he'd always wanted a getaway. Yes, it's a 3,000 square foot timber frame structure, but it's not out of place along the water, because all the cabins are like this.
He carries her bags (plural) to the door her fathers have left open, and Rachel breathes in deeply when she gets inside. It smells like cedar and summertime and a good portion of her childhood. She knew her uncle bought new furniture for the living room, so the old plaid sofas have been replaced with new brown leather ones. It looks amazing.
Noah doesn't look totally comfortable, which she thinks is ridiculous because it's just she and her fathers here, and he's spent most of his time this year in their presence in some way or another.
She grabs the hand that isn't holding his duffel and starts tugging him down the hall. "Come see your room!"
This excitement will ebb away, she promises, and he laughs like he doesn't believe her.
She pushes open the door to the guest room. It's not the nicest one in the house - the master suite is amazing - and she's sleeping upstairs in her cousin's room with the double bed and ensuite bathroom. Noah's room has a double as well, but it takes up over a third of the room and there's not much else in here, just a dresser and a bedside table with a lamp on it. The quilt on the bed is purple and kelly green, and she laughs at the look on his face when he notices. There's a bathroom across the hall, she tells him as he sets his bag at the end of his bed.
"Is it okay?" she asks. He gives her a look.
"It's fucking awesome," he insists. He drapes his arm around her and she worries he'll want a moment alone without her, because she is rather full on and she sang basically the entire drive up. She knows Justin Timberlake isn't really his style, either. Nor is Katy Perry. He didn't do much complaining, though. "Come on and I'll carry your load of shit to your room for you."
Such a gentleman.
... ... ...
They go for a walk after dinner. There's a public beach nearby, and Rachel slips off her sandals and holds them in her hand as they walk along the sand and he complains of the heat. It is rather humid. Her solution is to kick water at him, and he glares at her and tells her not to start playing that way.
She's positive she'd lose a water fight with him, because she honestly doesn't put it past him to just hoist her up and throw her into the lake. Anyway, she starts talking about the advantage boys have of just being able to take their shirts off, and then he does and every woman on the beach with a set of working eyes is staring. It's not the first time she's felt horribly inadequate walking next to him.
They watch a baseball game with her fathers when they get back to the cabin, and Daddy gives her a glass of chilled white wine and hands Noah a bottle of beer, and she can tell Noah is trying to act all cool but he's definitely impressed that they're being permitted to drink alcohol. Clearly, they're not going to be driving anywhere and she's certain they can each handle one drink. Still, they're underage, so she supposes this is out of the ordinary.
"How come they spit so much?" she asks from her place on the oversized armchair. She's got her legs pulled up and her head leaning back against the chair.
She really doesn't know what's so funny, but she loves the smiles on all three of their faces, so she's not even mad when she doesn't get an answer.
... ... ...
She wakes up and walks downstairs in her sleep shorts and tank top, only to find her three housemates in the kitchen working on breakfast. Dad sees her first, blows her a kiss and tells her there's coffee, and Noah pours her a cup while Daddy gets the soy milk from the fridge for her. A girl could get used to this kind of treatment.
"As if we don't all wait on you hand and foot as it is," Daddy teases after she's said that. Noah scoffs a bit and flips a pancake on the griddle. "Am I right?"
"Basically," Noah says. She sticks her tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes. What does he know, anyway?
They're in the middle of town getting groceries when her phone chimes and she opens a text message from Santana that makes her blush. God, that girl has no shame, and Noah laughs when he reads the message over her shoulder that is basically a text-speak run down of what Santana did last night with Finn. It's almost gross.
"Jealous?" Noah breathes into her ear as he stands behind her on the sidewalk while her fathers pay.
"Of?" Sometimes he stands a little too close to her and she doesn't know what to make of it. It's not like he's a terribly subtle person anyway, but it's far too warm out to be feeling his body heat against her back or his breath against her ear, isn't it?
"Santana and Finn. Sex. Anything."
Oh, well, she hasn't had sex since she and Finn broke up, and honestly, she doesn't even know for sure that what they did could even be called sex. Sure, it was...Well, obviously. But it lasted under five minutes, generally speaking, and she's had more powerful orgasms on her own than she did when she was with him.
But she says, "No," regardless and he just lets out a low laugh and pats her hip.
See, that's the problem with someone knowing you so well; they can catch you on all your little white lies.
... ... ...
They drive to town for dinner, just the two of them, and run into this girl she's known for a while. Her parents have a timeshare at this resort a few miles on the other side of town and Rachel's cousin knows the girl fairly well. Alexa invites them to a party and tells them to bring their bathing suits because the hot tub is most definitely the place to be.
"Rachel, your boyfriend is so hot," Alexa says. Noah is nearby, paying for their gelato.
"He's not..."
"If you were single, I'd totally set you up with this guy Darren. He's like, Mason's friend or whatever and he came up for a few days. He's really into music and everything, too, and..." Alexa's phone rings and Rachel looks to see Mason's name on the phone. Alexa and Mason have been together ever since Rachel met the girl. "I have to go. Come tomorrow!"
Rachel can't say no, and she thinks it'll be fun anyway. Then Noah holds a cold bottle of water against the small of her back to make her squeal before he hands her the lemon lime gelato she asked for.
"She's cute," he says as he watches Alexa walk away with her phone to her ear.
"She's in a relationship," Rachel says. "She thinks we are, too."
He laughs around his spoon. "Everyone does."
He doesn't sound annoyed or bothered by that. Rachel loves that he never really has.
He sits on her bed for most of the night (with the bottle of beer he's nursing sitting on the bedside table within arm's reach) and gives her his honest opinions on all the potential outfits she could wear to this party. Of course, he's more interested in her bathing suits, but she's not as willing to model those, and as she points out, he's already seen them all anyway.
"You asked for my opinion. It's important," he says, flinging a pink and blue floral one piece onto the floor. "Not that one."
She rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. "I like that bathing suit."
"Doesn't make it sexy," he says nonchalantly before taking a sip of his beer.
"Says you."
"Says the fact that it's not a two piece."
Arching her brow, she pulls the bathing suit she bought last week out of her bag. It's a one piece, with just one wide strip of fabric down the middle of the stomach. The sides are basically cut out and there's a gold hoop that sits between her breasts and holds all the fabric together. He's just staring at it as she holds it up.
"Your argument is invalid," she says. He starts laughing hard and grabs her hand, pulls her onto her bed with him and locks his legs around her thighs so she can't move. "Noah!"
He doesn't let her go until she's swatting at his chest and threatening to scream for her fathers, and even then he's laughing as he releases her.
He points at the bathing suit now laying on her bed. "'S'hot," he says. "Not the one, though."
"Maybe I don't care about your opinion," she says, combing her fingers through her hair.
The way he laughs says he's as aware as she is that it's a lie.
She settles on her bright blue two piece and a black sun dress, which isn't really all that surprising because it's kind of what she likes to wear. When she asks him if he needs help picking out his clothes for the party, he laughs and says, "Yeah, sure. Jeans and a tee shirt, or jeans and a tee shirt?"
They spend the rest of the night on her bed watching Family Guy episodes on DVD. Noah's fingers are massaging her scalp and at one point, she makes an embarrassing sound and he gives her a grin and raises his brow and he says, "You alright there?"
She elbows him in the side and tells him it feels good when he does that. When he murmurs that he knows, she realizes he did it on purpose, and honestly, she doesn't know why.
... ... ...
When she wakes up, her fathers are alone in the kitchen, drinking coffee and planning their day using the antiquing map they got in town yesterday. She pours herself a cup and they ask if there's anything she'd like if they see it. She's not exactly into antiques and she knows they'd buy her any interesting music memorabilia they came across anyway, so she just laughs and shakes her head and slides onto a stool at the kitchen island and looks through one of her aunt's recipe books until her dads say they're heading out for the day. She reminds them about the party and they mention that either she or Noah needs to remain sober or call for a ride, and she nods her head an they kiss her cheeks before they leave. They'll probably be in bed when she and Noah get home later, and she laughs when she hears her dad say, "Dear god, must it be so hot out?" before the door closes behind them.
She finishes her cup of coffee and walks to Noah's room. Peering through a crack in the door, she sees that he's still asleep and laying mostly in the middle of the bed with his hands tucked up under the pillow. He sleeps in ridiculous positions most of the time. She decides she's going to slide into bed next to him and curl up behind him, press her chest to his back. Mostly because she knows he'll hate it, being the 'little spoon'. It's totally not manly, and he actually broke up with a girl (well, stopped sleeping with a girl) once because of it, he's told her.
He's not going to break up with her. They're not together and she's realized she can basically get away with anything with him.
His body is incredibly warm, despite the air conditioning being on, which explains his bare torso and the blankets pushed down around his hips. She'd worry about his state of dress, but she can see the waistband of his boxers, so she knows she's safe. He doesn't shift as she crawls in behind him and slides her hand up his body to rest on his chest. He's very solidly built and she generally likes the security of being around him, and sharing a bed is no different.
"You suck," he mumbles before she's even realized he's awake. She's been laying here with her eyes closed for about a half hour, knowing she won't get to sleep. She giggles a little bit, her cheek pressed against the back of his shoulder. "Why?"
"I don't know," she admits. "I wanted to."
"Dumped."
She laughs again and he turns so he's on his back and grabs her before she can move too far away. "We should..."
"Stay," he says, hand on her wrist, pulling it back up to sit on his chest again. He tucks her against him, his other hand moving to sit on her side near her breast.
The sun is shining through the windows and it's nearing 10:00 a.m., and they'd talked about going running before it got too warm. That plan is clearly ruined, but then he takes a deep breath and she feels it beneath her cheek, so she forgets to care.
... ... ...
The party is small, and she likes that. Someone hands her a cup of Jameson when they arrive, which Noah tells her is whiskey, so she passes it to him and tells him she'll drive them home if he wants to have a couple drinks. Everyone is in the hot tub, which is right next to the resort's pool, and Rachel thinks whoever is hosting this party rented the facilities for the night or something, because there are just a dozen or so people their age around, and no other people swimming. And it's dangerous to mix water and alcohol, but Alexa is a trained lifeguard and she's not drinking either.
Rachel explains that she and Noah aren't dating, but Alexa doesn't believe her. Maybe because when Noah pulls his shirt off, he tosses it in her direction and it hits her in the face and then he winks at her as he sinks into the hot tub with Mason and another boy she's never seen.
"That's Darren," Alexa says, adjusting her bathing suit over her breasts. "Totally cute, and he's like, a straight theater boy. How many of those do you know?"
Rachel giggles. "One, now."
They both laugh and Noah looks over at her and smiles, then shouts at her to get her ass in the water. She's jealous of his ability to make friends wherever it is he goes. It's not fair that she's somewhat awkward and hopeless and he fits in with everyone.
That said, she does garner some of the male attention at this party when she lifts her dress over her head.
Alexa gets in before her and sits between Noah and Mason, and Rachel finds herself sitting between Mason and this boy Darren with the messy hair and crooked grin. He kind of reminds her of Finn, but he's a little sexier, if she may dare to say it. He smiles at her and she smiles back. Alexa introduces them and Rachel worries she's already played a little matchmaker, but the boy starts asking questions she knows Alexa would have already covered, so maybe not. And if Alexa thought Rachel and Noah were together, she probably wouldn't have been trying to set Rachel up with this boy before she even got to the party.
She's laughing at Darren's claim that he'd sell his left nut to be on Broadway. It's really not as funny as she's making it out to be, but the way he said it makes her laugh so hard her stomach hurts. He explains that he's very attached to his left nut, and then nearly spits out his drink laughing when she says, "Actually, it's very attached to you." Noah looks over, smiles a little, and she takes a breath. That look on his face is rare, and it makes her tuck her hair behind her ear as she turns back to Darren.
"Noah sings, too," she says after a while.
"Yeah?" Darren asks. She nods. "I want to hear you."
She shakes her head quickly. "No." She's not the same girl she was at 16 (or even 17) desperate for any kind of stage and always ready to sing something show stopping and bring admirers to their knees. "I'm not nearly drunk enough to just burst into song."
He slips his arm around her in what she's sure he thinks is a subtle way. "Well, let's get you a drink, then."
She laughs and gives him a look, and she's just about to ask if he's trying to get her drunk when Noah kicks her shin a little and jerks his head in the direction of the pool no one's swimming in.
Honestly, Darren is coming on a little strong, whether all he wants is to hear her sing or he wants something more. He's not going to get either, and she likes that Noah knows that and could rescue her.
Then he's got her hand in his as they walk across the courtyard to the pool, and he drains the last of what she thinks is his second or maybe third drink. Definitely third, if the way he sets his hand on her hip is any indication.
"Okay?" he asks. She nods. "Buddy was kind of all over you."
"It was fine. He just wanted to hear me sing."
It sounds like a lie as soon as it leaves her lips.
Noah shrugs and steps closer to her. "I could make you scream."
Her eyes widen and she looks up at him and stutters out a, "What?" but then he's pushing at her stomach and she's stumbling backwards and falling into the water, screaming as she goes.
She could kill him.
He jumps in after her and is laughing when he surfaces. Her hair was done perfectly and she'd managed to keep it dry, and he just had to go and ruin it! What a jerk. She splashes him as she pouts, and tries to swim away, but he manages to reach out for her and hold her by her sides, pull her back to him.
"That was shitty," she says as he holds her against him. It's not often she swears, but she's mad right now.
"Sorry."
"No, you aren't." He turns her around in the water. It comes to her chest and just below his, and he's looking down at her like he's kind of still proud of himself for doing that to her. "I'm mad at you now."
"Stop pouting."
He grabs her by the elbows and pulls her into deeper water with him. Kicking her legs to stay afloat, she watches him. He's always affectionate with her but he seems to be touching her an awful lot tonight. He settles his hands on her hips and pulls her to him. It forces her to open her legs and she ends up with them wrapped around his waist as he treads water. They end up against a wall with his back against the ledge, and he's asking her what Darren said and if he was really funny and if she wants to go back to the hot tub.
No, not really. She's enjoying being this close with him, as wrong as it probably is.
"I'm getting cold," she says. He cups his hands and brings water up, splashes it over her shoulders. It doesn't do much for her temperature, but she appreciates the gesture.
"Wanna go?" he asks. He moves his leg and his shorts are rough on the inside of her thigh, and she just nods her head.
Something is going on here, and as much as she'd like to blame it on the alcohol, she thinks that has little to nothing to do with it.
She hands him a towel when he climbs out of the pool after her, and he drapes his over his shoulders haphazardly and wraps her up in hers, rubs her shoulders and asks if she's better. At some point, Alexa went back up to her condo to get something, and Mason tells Rachel that if they head up the elevator, they can get into the condo before Alexa leaves to come back down.
As soon as they're in the elevator, Noah has his hands on her hips and her back is to the wall as he looks down at her.
"How drunk are you?" she asks seriously. He's...She's been around him when he's been drinking before, and he wasn't like this. He's making it seem like he wants her.
She's spent a lot of the last year trying to convince people he doesn't.
He tugs his fingers through her hair, brushes it off her neck and leans in to feather a few kisses along her skin. "Sober enough to know I shouldn't do this."
She breathes heavily and lets her eyes flutter closed, but then the elevator door opens and he steps away, lets her walk down the hall ahead of him. They have a short talk with Alexa as they grab their things and Rachel agrees that they should all meet for lunch or dinner or something before everyone leaves, so they swap numbers again while Noah changes back into his jeans.
He hands her his keys when they get to the parking lot, and gets in the passenger side without a word.
"You look sexy," he tells her, watching her drive his Jeep back to the cabin.
"What are you doing?" she asks, laughing quietly. He shrugs his shoulder and looks out his window again.
Part of her is really hoping her fathers will be awake when she and Noah get home so she can diffuse this situation. She also wants to text Santana and ask what the hell she's supposed to do right now, even though she knows Santana's response will be that she should get naked and let him fuck her into a coma. Actually, Santana has said that before, several times, and generally when the situation had nothing to do with Noah at all.
Anyway, she's not going to sleep with Noah when her fathers are in the house. Or at all.
His fingers are in her hair again, massaging her scalp as she drives, and she pulls her head away after a minute or two so his hand lands on her shoulder and he's smirking at her
"Stop," she says laughingly. "I can't concentrate."
They get to the house and walk up the steps. The door is locked, but her dads' car is in the driveway, so she knows they're in bed. Noah is right behind her with his hands moving over her hips, lifting her dress a little bit every time he moves them up and down, all while she tries to fit the key into the lock. She doesn't tell him to stop, but she moves away from him as soon as they're inside with the door closed behind them, and tells him she's going to go change and she'll be back down in a minute.
Why she didn't just tell him she was going to bed, she has no idea. It's nearing 1:00 a.m. and she should be just going to sleep. There's a part of her that's really very curious to know what he's trying to do here. It's probably the same part of her that never, ever really believed he could just be friends with a girl.
She goes back downstairs in her cotton shorts and tank top with a sweatshirt overtop (actually, it's one of his) and sees him laying on the sofa in his jeans and tee shirt, remote in his hand and flipping through channels. She thinks he'll move for her, and he does, sort of. He moves so he's on his side and there's room for her in front of him. She looks at him doubtfully, but he says, "You owe me for this morning," and she finds herself smiling a little bit and laying down with him, stealing the remote and looking for something halfway decent to watch that isn't wrestling or sports highlights.
He plays with the bottom of her sweatshirt with one hand and her hair with the other, and she knows his lips are very close to her ear, because every time he lets out his breath she can feel it and it's kind of driving her crazy.
She leaves the television on a History Channel special on Stonehenge and asks, "Is this okay?" and he just lets out a hum in her ear, so she knows he's definitely not paying attention to anything but what his hands are doing, because if he were, he'd be telling her to change the channel.
She lets him do it because it feels good.
He loves her hair, and she knows this because he tells her regularly. No matter what style she wears it in or how she cuts it, he tells her it's one of his favourite of her features. She's never asked what the rest of them are.
Given the way his fingertips are ghosting up and down her thigh between her knee and the bottom of her shorts, she can venture a guess that her legs are on the list.
He kisses her neck again. She's trying to pay attention to this thing about Stonehenge, because it really does seem very interesting, and she barely feels his lips against her skin, but the second time he does it is with more pressure. Part of her is dying to turn her head and just kiss him. The rest of her loves these little touches and kisses he's laying on her. His hand sneaks beneath her shirt and under her tank top so he can touch her skin, and he presses her back against him so there's no space at all between them.
She wants to say his name, but she closes her eyes instead and lets him trace his finger around her belly button.
He coos, "Baby," in her ear.
She's done for.
She turns a bit and his lips are on hers before she's even in a comfortable enough position to kiss him back. Her arm is awkwardly pinned between them and he's holding her side tightly so she doesn't fall off the couch, and really, the kiss isn't what she expects. She expects teeth and tongue, the way they used to kiss, back when they used to kiss. You know, when she was trying to make Finn jealous and Noah didn't mind helping.
Anyway, it's not like that. He's kind of sipping at her lips, giving her these gentle little pecks she's almost mad at him for. They've been laying here for a half hour with his hands doing things to her skin and this is how he's kissing her now? She pulls away from him only long enough to move so she's on her side facing him, and his hand slides over her cheek and to the back of her neck so he can pull her closer. His kisses are marginally more...more. She moans into his mouth and wonders why the hell they're on a couch. It's probably for the best, though, or she can't promise she wouldn't do something she shouldn't do with her fathers anywhere in the vicinity.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he says.
She has to laugh, just softly, a low chuckle. It makes his fingers dig into her hips. "You started it."
He scoffs a bit, nips at her lips. "Not really," he says, and she'd ask what that means, but then he's licking her bottom lip after biting it gently and she's distracted.
Rachel is a girl who loves kissing. She's done a lot of it, mostly because she waited a long time before she decided she was ready to have sex. There's a lot to be said for a really good kiss, the kind you feel through your stomach and down to your toes. People forget about that in their rush to get to the other things. She likes to take her time getting there. She's never going to be one of those one night stand girls, mostly because she thinks you can't possibly pleasure someone to full potential without just kissing them for a while.
She's spent some time kissing Noah. Not enough, but some. She knows that if she drags her fingers down the side of his neck, he groans, and if she nibbles his bottom lip, he smiles against her, and if she does the same thing to the lobe of his ear, he full out moans and usually rolls his hips. There's a little divot at the back of his shoulder that she loves to set her fingers in, and it's only dawning on her now that it's a little strange to have remembered all this considering she hasn't kissed him in over a year.
She pulls away from him a little to think it over, and he just looks at her. She doesn't know what to do, why he's doing this or where it's going, and she's torn between wanting to initiate a conversation, wanting to run to her room and close the door, and wanting to just kiss him and say fuck the rest.
Maybe not 'fuck'. You know what she means.
(Her friends are bad influences.)
"You're not into this," he states, eyes on her face.
"No," she says quickly. "No, I am."
"Doesn't really seem like it."
"You're drunk."
"I am not," he says. She knows. She's making up excuses, and maybe trying to give him an out when she knows him well enough to know he doesn't want one. "I just want this."
"Do you really?" she asks. She knows her eyes are wide and she probably sounds desperate, but all she really wants to know is that he's not going to...No, maybe she's desperate.
"Yeah." He's practically whispering, and he's rubbing his thumb back and forth over her hip bone, which is far too distracting, considering she's trying to resist him.
"Have you...Have you wanted this?"
He lets out a breathy laugh, leans back from her a little for the sole purpose of looking at her pathetically. He makes even that look sexy. "Rachel, come on."
Oh. Well, how long? How much? Since when? Wait, that's the same as the first question. Does he want to date her, or does he just want to sleep with her? Has he always been this good with his hands, and god, when did he become so hard against her thigh? Should she be asking him about things like protection or the long distance when they go away to school?
He slides his fingers across her forehead and gives her a little smile. "Stop thinking," he says.
"I'm not."
He laughs again. "Don't know why you think you can lie to me."
She moves her hand up to the back of his neck again, pulls them closer together and realizes she really wants this, too. She doesn't want to sleep with him (well, not tonight) but she wants more, wants to kiss him and maybe wants him to go back to putting his hand beneath her shirt and playing his fingertips over her ribs like some kind of instrument.
She thinks it has to mean something big that they stay on the couch until almost 3:30 a.m. kissing and he doesn't once so much as try to take her top off.
...Part II...
Title: Let's Get Lost, Baby, You and I
Chapter: 1/2
Rating: R
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: He flops back onto her bed and says something about the air conditioning being perfect, and she's thinking of ways to tell him she's leaving for a week and a half.
Word Count: 19,000 (total)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
The dress she wears to graduation is black with green leaves on it and little bows holding it closed at the back.
It takes exactly 12 minutes and 30 seconds after she arrives at the party at Santana's house for Noah to untie one of them.
"Stop," she giggles. He's untied the bottom one, of course, because he's always telling her it's a shame he's never seen her panties 'legit', whatever that means. "Tie it."
"I can't do bows and shit. I don't."
"Well, you seemed to have no trouble at all unfastening it. Noah, please. My dads are here."
He rolls his eyes, sets his can of Sprite on the railing on the back deck and she tries (and fails, obviously) to watch over her shoulder as he ties the bow. It's terrible, and she can tell when she runs her fingers over it.
"Oh, good god," Kurt sighs as he walks over. "Step aside, Testosterone." Rachel laughs at the nickname, even if it isn't really funny.
"Later," Noah says. "Rach, we still on for Wednesday?"
"Yes!" she answers excitedly. "Yes, definitely."
He winks and walks away, and she's been looking forward to their trip to Cleveland to see The Script since the show was announced. Why he'd ask if they're still on, she doesn't know. He's probably teasing her. He does that a lot.
However, her friendship with him has been one of her favourite things since it really started up last summer. He was hired to clean her pool and she was working at what was apparently his favourite smoothie bar, and one night after her shift he was waiting there in the parking lot and asked if she wanted to hang out or some shit. He's eloquent.
That became their Thursday night tradition, until she was in her back yard on a Monday when he came to clean the pool, so that became another one. He called her to go to a movie one afternoon and she asked him for a ride home from work one night when her dad couldn't get her and she hadn't driven herself.
She thought they'd change once school started, but the first day of their senior year, he met her in the parking lot and they walked together. They had homeroom and English together, as well as Mr. Schuester's Spanish class and glee.
Basically, they couldn't escape one another. She's not totally certain they would have anyway.
Kurt sips from his plastic cup of sparkling mineral water and arches his brow sky high.
"It's just adorable that you two think you're friends."
He has this theory that men and women can't be friends unless one of them is either in a relationship or gay. She doesn't believe it for a second.
So what if her eyes happen to land on Noah wherever he is at any given moment? It's easy to pick him out of the crowd because he's the only one who's untucked his shirt (actually, she doesn't think it was ever tucked in to begin with) and his mohawk kind of sets him apart. Not necessarily in a good way, but she's ceased criticizing because he doesn't seem to care anyway.
"We're friends," she repeats for what feels like the millionth time. "Noah would pursue a girl he was interested in. He wouldn't waste time being her friend. So stop that, and please go get me some more food."
"My god, you're demanding," Kurt says dramatically. "The way you rationalize would be sweet if it wasn't so tragic." She rolls her eyes, then smiles overly sweetly and holds out her empty paper plate to him. "Um, no. You have two perfectly good legs, darling."
He walks off and she shakes her head after him.
Actually, it's been said her legs are her best feature.
When she leaves with Noah at the end of the night, it's just because her fathers left a few hours ago, it's late and dark and Noah tells her she's not going anywhere on her own. And she ignores the looks she's getting from Kurt and Santana, because those two don't know what they're talking about.
... ... ...
She's glad she's not working this summer. More likely than not that's a terrible idea, considering how expensive it's going to be to live on her own, but her fathers are behind this idea, too, her just enjoying her last summer at home, her last summer before she has to grow up. For her, the first week anyway, this entails sitting in her backyard in her bikini with her iPod on and working on her tan. She bought this bathing suit in May and her dads will only let her wear it at home. Sure, she's 18 and she can, realistically, do what she wants, but there's not a whole lot of fabric to this thing. That's kind of the best thing about it. Anyway, Santana is the only one who's seen it, and Rachel doesn't necessarily care. She doesn't need or want a boyfriend anyway.
Noah comes around the side of the house some time after 2:00, says, "Holy fucking Christ, Rachel," and looks her up and down. She gives him a look, because really, it's not even that bad. "Why don't you just get naked?"
"It's not that revealing!"
Honestly, it's just plum purple and a halter, and the bottoms are admittedly very low riding and have little black bows at the sides. Okay, it's rather revealing, but not in a bad way. Plus, her body is fantastic (she has a daily date with her elliptical to keep it that way) and she's young, and she figures what better time to wear a bathing suit like this?
"Uh. Sure it's not," he says, shaking his head.
"What are you doing here?" she asks. He pulls his shirt off and lays down on the lounge chair next to hers.
"Not being at home."
He leaves it at that. She doesn't pry.
Ever since he was accepted to OSU his mother has been on his case about leaving home. Rachel doesn't understand that. She's incredibly proud of him herself, and she's just his friend. She knows his mother is happy he's doing something with his life, but evidently Mrs. Puckerman thought he'd do it here in Lima. Rachel thinks Noah resents his mother a little bit for always just assuming that was all he'd ever do, stay in this town and go to classes at the OSU campus and live here forever. It's caused a lot of tension and butting heads, and Rachel knows that perhaps the only person more stubborn than Noah is his mother.
When she turns so she's on her stomach, she looks over and he's staring at her.
"Okay, don't give me that look," he tells her, laughing. She smiles a little. She's not sure which look she was giving him, but it was probably the 'Are you really checking me out right now, friend?' one. "You're wearing like, a fucking coaster as a bathing suit."
She giggles and props herself up on her elbows. "A coaster? Really?"
"Whatever," he mumbles. He reaches out and drags his knuckles along the line of her side, curved because of how her back is arched. "Where'd you even get that?"
In her opinion, an awful lot of attention is being paid to what she is or isn't wearing right now.
"Why, do you want one?"
He rolls his eyes at her attempt at a joke. "Already kinda got one."
He smirks, and she shakes her head. An hour later, when he suggests they go meet up with Finn and Santana, Rachel just pulls on a pair of denim shorts and a loose-fitting tank top over her bikini. Her dads can't say anything about it if she's got clothes on over top, right?
The four of them (all just friends) have dinner on a patio and drink virgin margaritas, and Noah spends most of the evening attempting to tug the knot at the back of her neck loose.
... ... ...
She stays close to him at the concert venue. They're some of the youngest people there, and college guys are looking at her like she's a meal or something. Maybe Noah was right when he picked her up and told her the jeans she's wearing are really tight and having this low cut tank top on with a black bandeau underneath is 'totally sexy'. She thinks she looks cute. Apparently cute is very good for attracting older boys. There's one who sends her a smile, and honestly, he's very attractive and if she didn't think Noah would hate her for ditching him, she might pluck up the courage to approach this guy.
Noah drops his arm around her shoulder protectively when some drunk guy ambles past and says, "Hey, baby," and tries to touch her hair.
Things get better when the band starts. She's got adrenaline coursing through her, and it's terrible for her voice to be singing along so loudly, but she forgets to care when Breakeven starts.
She and Noah sang this together after she and Finn's last breakup. So cathartic.
Noah's arm is still around her, and she leans back against him a little during one of the newer songs when he's standing behind her. She knows all the lyrics, but she doesn't sing them because Noah is and she wants to hear him. His hand is on her hip and his voice is in her ear.
This might be the best summer she's ever had.
... ... ...
He texts her that his mom is driving him crazy again and asks Rachel to meet him at the park so he can get out of his house and talk it out instead of hitting something. Well, she's the one to suggest the talking. He agrees, reluctantly.
He tells her the whole story, how his mom made some remark about him abandoning her or something. Rachel knows the situation isn't good, that these comments have been bothering him more than he wants to let on.
"She's just emotional," Rachel says rationally. "She doesn't want you to leave and forget about her."
"I won't."
"She doesn't know that. I mean, has anyone ever come back to her?" He levels her with a look that makes her blood run cold. She shouldn't have said that. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
"Obviously not," he says angrily. "Fucking bullshit thing to say."
"I'm sorry."
"Whatever. Not everyone sleeps in their house behind the white picket fence with two daddies to bring them fucking milk and cookies."
The only thing she can think to say in response to that is, "They don't do that."
He gives her another glare. "Don't talk about my dad. You don't know shit about it."
She gets up and walks to her car before she gets too angry to speak rationally.
She knows a lot. She knows him and she remembers his dad leaving, and she knows a thing or two about being abandoned by a parent. If he's going to be selfish and forget that part, she's not going to remind him.
He calls her 10 minutes later when she's pulling into her driveway, then texts her because she didn't answer.
She tells him she can't accept his apology because she's too busy eating milk and cookies with her fathers. It's not the truth, of course, but she's positive he'll get the message.
He's on her doorstep in the morning with a smoothie in his hand, sipping from the straw as he looks at her. She knows this game, where he waits for her to talk because he doesn't want to do it first, but really, they both know she's not going to break.
"I'm a dick."
"Apology accepted."
Basically, this is how all their fights go.
... ... ...
They get drunk on Independence Day. Finn is huge and has a fake ID, but he doesn't even get asked for it when he drives to Haverville and stops at a convenience store and picks up enough vodka coolers for everyone to have more than enough.
Rachel has two and she's buzzed. Three and she's drunk. Four and she's the happiest person on the plant.
"We should always be drunk!" she claims. Kurt spits out his drink, laughing. "It feels so good, though!"
"Yeah, babe, pretty sure that's not the best thing to say," Noah tells her. Oh, whatever. What does he know about anything? She pouts until he pushes a marshmallow past her lips. They're at the park and there's no bonfire or anything, and she's not worrying about things like empty calories.
Clearly.
She holds hands with Noah as he walks her home, and she's sobered considerably since they started walking. He lets her swing their hands between them and talks about the night and the couples and all their friends, and he points out that she's acting like he's never met any of them.
"Well, I know you're not nearly as perfective as I am," she says. She starts giggling immediately. "I mean perceptive. Perceptive."
He laughs and pushes her away from him, but their hands are still joined, so he tugs her back easily and she didn't get too far to begin with. "Sure," he says. "Like you don't think you're perfect."
"I don't," she insists. He scoffs a little. "I don't. I'm not perfect. There are a lot of not perfect things about me."
"Yeah?" he asks. "Name one."
Maybe this conversation is dangerous, because it'll sound like she's fishing for compliments. But is he saying he thinks she's perfect?
"There are a lot," she says again.
He doesn't ask her about it again. Maybe because she starts skipping down the sidewalk and telling him he can't step on cracks.
She'll never forget the time she got Noah Puckerman to skip down the sidewalk with her at 1:30 in the morning.
... ... ...
"Ugh," she groans one day as he cleans her pool and she tugs her shorts down her legs. "I hate my thighs."
"You're fucking stupid," he says seriously.
She adjusts her bathing suit at her hips and turns around, because she's positive her cheeks are red and it's not from either sun or anger, and she doesn't think that's supposed to happen.
... ... ...
"I think I'm in love with Finn."
Rachel spits out her lemonade and looks at Santana as if to ask if this is one of those times when the girl jokes around and says ridiculous things just to see what peoples' reactions will be. Santana looks completely serious.
"What?"
Santana shrugs. "Is it that hard to believe?"
Rachel knows that her answer to this question will very much impact how seriously Santana pursues these feelings, and if they're genuine Rachel thinks they should be acted upon. And weirdly, she thinks it kind of makes a lot of sense.
"No," Rachel answers. "Not at all, actually." Santana lays back against her lounge chair. "But since when?"
"Dunno. Maybe since I fucked him. His cock's kind of majestic."
Rachel really needs to stop drinking things when she's talking to Santana, because she chokes on her drink this time and shoots a glare at her friend.
And Rachel wouldn't exactly call it majestic. Maybe that's just because when they were together, he was still learning how to use it.
Oh, god. She did not just think that. See, this is what happens when your two closest friends are Noah and Santana. Kurt isn't exactly an innocent either.
When they meet up with the boys later in the day, Rachel pulls Noah away from their table at the diner and asks for his help picking songs on the jukebox. There isn't actually a jukebox, she just thinks there should be one and Finn hasn't noticed the bluff yet.
Santana trips her as she walks by, and Noah catches Rachel before she can really fall. She's laughing, and he asks, "What the fuck?"
"Nothing."
"You suck as a liar."
She sticks her tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes, but looks at her like she's adorable, which she is.
"I think they're going to get together." His reaction is basically a non-reaction. "Don't you have a thought on this?"
He shrugs his shoulder. "Not really. Not all that shocking."
They watch as Finn says something to Santana, and in the middle of his sentence and serious hand waving as he explains something or tells this story, Santana grabs his face and kisses him.
Rachel laughs and then puts her face against Noah's chest, feels the rumble of his laughter beneath her cheek and his voice is amplified against her ear when he asks her if she wants to go. It leaves Finn and Santana with the bill, but they're too preoccupied to notice.
... ... ...
He flops back onto her bed and says something about the air conditioning being perfect, and she's thinking of ways to tell him she's leaving for a week and a half.
Silly, isn't it? A week and a half is no time at all, in the grand scheme of things. But a week and a half during your last summer as a kid, your last summer at home, your last summer with your best friend, it seems like a very, very long time.
Her uncle Jonathan has a cabin on Lake Erie that he and his wife and Rachel's cousins usually stay in all summer long, since they're both teachers and the kids are out of school, too. This year, the kids are older and decided they didn't want to be away from their friends. Jonathan asked her dad if they wanted to go, and her fathers jumped at the chance to get away a while and have a little family vacation before Rachel leaves for school. It's lovely, and she loves the cabin, and honestly, she could use the time away.
"I need a damn vacation," Noah grumbles, rotating his shoulder.
It's not difficult to convince her fathers to let Noah come on their 'family' vacation. When she suggests it to him, he says there's no fucking way his mom will let him, not with the way she's been acting.
Rachel is very persuasive.
And she can cry at will.
It's not even that bad. All she does is say that Noah has been stressed all year long (which is by no means a lie) and that he'll be back in only 11 days and he'll be in much better spirits for the rest of the summer. There may also be a bit about how Rachel's so upset to be parting ways with him. She just has a tear in her eye when she says how much she cares about Noah, and that's not a lie either. She just knows his mother and her ability to read into things when there's nothing to read into. Mrs. Puckerman will run away with those few words and more than likely be willing to let Noah live in Rachel's basement or something. Of course, that's not how Rachel meant it, but it wasn't an out and out lie, so she doesn't even really feel that bad about it.
"You're fucking sneaky, you know that?" he says into the phone once his mother has given him permission. He's smiling and Rachel can hear it. "She wouldn't tell me what you said."
Rachel laughs and shakes her head. "Good."
She's okay with his mother thinking she has feelings for him, but she's not okay with him thinking it. They haven't had that misunderstanding in well over a year and she's not looking to revisit it.
... ... ...
She packs snacks for the drive and Noah is in charge of music. Of course, this doesn't mean she doesn't bring her own, because she can't exactly trust him to make a playlist that won't offend her in some way, shape, or form, and she's got her iPod anyway, and oh, look, there's a playlist titled *SUMMER VACATION* and she lasts approximately two Metallica songs before she unplugs his music and puts hers on.
She stuffs a brownie into his mouth to keep him from complaining, laughs when he sputters and chews and tries to talk with his mouth full. It's disgusting and she should tell him that, but she's finding it hard to breathe and there are tears in her eyes until he smears chocolate icing across her cheek and asks if she really wants to start shit.
She's glad her fathers allowed them to drive separately. It's mostly because her dads have all these plans to go antiquing and visit all the local artisans they've always loved, and they don't want to leave Rachel and Noah without a vehicle. That's in case of emergency, but also because you can't really get anywhere from the cabin without a boat or a vehicle, and Noah's Jeep is four wheel drive and most definitely capable of getting them wherever they might possibly to go.
It's nearing 3:00 in the afternoon when they pull up to the cabin and he's looking out the windshield with an impressed expression on his face.
"I thought you said it was a cabin."
"It is!" she chirps happily, unbuckling her seat belt.
"Rachel, this place is a fucking house," he laughs.
Well, maybe it could be, but it's not. No one is here a good eight months of the year. Her uncle invested very wisely in the dot com boom and built this cabin because he'd always wanted a getaway. Yes, it's a 3,000 square foot timber frame structure, but it's not out of place along the water, because all the cabins are like this.
He carries her bags (plural) to the door her fathers have left open, and Rachel breathes in deeply when she gets inside. It smells like cedar and summertime and a good portion of her childhood. She knew her uncle bought new furniture for the living room, so the old plaid sofas have been replaced with new brown leather ones. It looks amazing.
Noah doesn't look totally comfortable, which she thinks is ridiculous because it's just she and her fathers here, and he's spent most of his time this year in their presence in some way or another.
She grabs the hand that isn't holding his duffel and starts tugging him down the hall. "Come see your room!"
This excitement will ebb away, she promises, and he laughs like he doesn't believe her.
She pushes open the door to the guest room. It's not the nicest one in the house - the master suite is amazing - and she's sleeping upstairs in her cousin's room with the double bed and ensuite bathroom. Noah's room has a double as well, but it takes up over a third of the room and there's not much else in here, just a dresser and a bedside table with a lamp on it. The quilt on the bed is purple and kelly green, and she laughs at the look on his face when he notices. There's a bathroom across the hall, she tells him as he sets his bag at the end of his bed.
"Is it okay?" she asks. He gives her a look.
"It's fucking awesome," he insists. He drapes his arm around her and she worries he'll want a moment alone without her, because she is rather full on and she sang basically the entire drive up. She knows Justin Timberlake isn't really his style, either. Nor is Katy Perry. He didn't do much complaining, though. "Come on and I'll carry your load of shit to your room for you."
Such a gentleman.
... ... ...
They go for a walk after dinner. There's a public beach nearby, and Rachel slips off her sandals and holds them in her hand as they walk along the sand and he complains of the heat. It is rather humid. Her solution is to kick water at him, and he glares at her and tells her not to start playing that way.
She's positive she'd lose a water fight with him, because she honestly doesn't put it past him to just hoist her up and throw her into the lake. Anyway, she starts talking about the advantage boys have of just being able to take their shirts off, and then he does and every woman on the beach with a set of working eyes is staring. It's not the first time she's felt horribly inadequate walking next to him.
They watch a baseball game with her fathers when they get back to the cabin, and Daddy gives her a glass of chilled white wine and hands Noah a bottle of beer, and she can tell Noah is trying to act all cool but he's definitely impressed that they're being permitted to drink alcohol. Clearly, they're not going to be driving anywhere and she's certain they can each handle one drink. Still, they're underage, so she supposes this is out of the ordinary.
"How come they spit so much?" she asks from her place on the oversized armchair. She's got her legs pulled up and her head leaning back against the chair.
She really doesn't know what's so funny, but she loves the smiles on all three of their faces, so she's not even mad when she doesn't get an answer.
... ... ...
She wakes up and walks downstairs in her sleep shorts and tank top, only to find her three housemates in the kitchen working on breakfast. Dad sees her first, blows her a kiss and tells her there's coffee, and Noah pours her a cup while Daddy gets the soy milk from the fridge for her. A girl could get used to this kind of treatment.
"As if we don't all wait on you hand and foot as it is," Daddy teases after she's said that. Noah scoffs a bit and flips a pancake on the griddle. "Am I right?"
"Basically," Noah says. She sticks her tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes. What does he know, anyway?
They're in the middle of town getting groceries when her phone chimes and she opens a text message from Santana that makes her blush. God, that girl has no shame, and Noah laughs when he reads the message over her shoulder that is basically a text-speak run down of what Santana did last night with Finn. It's almost gross.
"Jealous?" Noah breathes into her ear as he stands behind her on the sidewalk while her fathers pay.
"Of?" Sometimes he stands a little too close to her and she doesn't know what to make of it. It's not like he's a terribly subtle person anyway, but it's far too warm out to be feeling his body heat against her back or his breath against her ear, isn't it?
"Santana and Finn. Sex. Anything."
Oh, well, she hasn't had sex since she and Finn broke up, and honestly, she doesn't even know for sure that what they did could even be called sex. Sure, it was...Well, obviously. But it lasted under five minutes, generally speaking, and she's had more powerful orgasms on her own than she did when she was with him.
But she says, "No," regardless and he just lets out a low laugh and pats her hip.
See, that's the problem with someone knowing you so well; they can catch you on all your little white lies.
... ... ...
They drive to town for dinner, just the two of them, and run into this girl she's known for a while. Her parents have a timeshare at this resort a few miles on the other side of town and Rachel's cousin knows the girl fairly well. Alexa invites them to a party and tells them to bring their bathing suits because the hot tub is most definitely the place to be.
"Rachel, your boyfriend is so hot," Alexa says. Noah is nearby, paying for their gelato.
"He's not..."
"If you were single, I'd totally set you up with this guy Darren. He's like, Mason's friend or whatever and he came up for a few days. He's really into music and everything, too, and..." Alexa's phone rings and Rachel looks to see Mason's name on the phone. Alexa and Mason have been together ever since Rachel met the girl. "I have to go. Come tomorrow!"
Rachel can't say no, and she thinks it'll be fun anyway. Then Noah holds a cold bottle of water against the small of her back to make her squeal before he hands her the lemon lime gelato she asked for.
"She's cute," he says as he watches Alexa walk away with her phone to her ear.
"She's in a relationship," Rachel says. "She thinks we are, too."
He laughs around his spoon. "Everyone does."
He doesn't sound annoyed or bothered by that. Rachel loves that he never really has.
He sits on her bed for most of the night (with the bottle of beer he's nursing sitting on the bedside table within arm's reach) and gives her his honest opinions on all the potential outfits she could wear to this party. Of course, he's more interested in her bathing suits, but she's not as willing to model those, and as she points out, he's already seen them all anyway.
"You asked for my opinion. It's important," he says, flinging a pink and blue floral one piece onto the floor. "Not that one."
She rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. "I like that bathing suit."
"Doesn't make it sexy," he says nonchalantly before taking a sip of his beer.
"Says you."
"Says the fact that it's not a two piece."
Arching her brow, she pulls the bathing suit she bought last week out of her bag. It's a one piece, with just one wide strip of fabric down the middle of the stomach. The sides are basically cut out and there's a gold hoop that sits between her breasts and holds all the fabric together. He's just staring at it as she holds it up.
"Your argument is invalid," she says. He starts laughing hard and grabs her hand, pulls her onto her bed with him and locks his legs around her thighs so she can't move. "Noah!"
He doesn't let her go until she's swatting at his chest and threatening to scream for her fathers, and even then he's laughing as he releases her.
He points at the bathing suit now laying on her bed. "'S'hot," he says. "Not the one, though."
"Maybe I don't care about your opinion," she says, combing her fingers through her hair.
The way he laughs says he's as aware as she is that it's a lie.
She settles on her bright blue two piece and a black sun dress, which isn't really all that surprising because it's kind of what she likes to wear. When she asks him if he needs help picking out his clothes for the party, he laughs and says, "Yeah, sure. Jeans and a tee shirt, or jeans and a tee shirt?"
They spend the rest of the night on her bed watching Family Guy episodes on DVD. Noah's fingers are massaging her scalp and at one point, she makes an embarrassing sound and he gives her a grin and raises his brow and he says, "You alright there?"
She elbows him in the side and tells him it feels good when he does that. When he murmurs that he knows, she realizes he did it on purpose, and honestly, she doesn't know why.
... ... ...
When she wakes up, her fathers are alone in the kitchen, drinking coffee and planning their day using the antiquing map they got in town yesterday. She pours herself a cup and they ask if there's anything she'd like if they see it. She's not exactly into antiques and she knows they'd buy her any interesting music memorabilia they came across anyway, so she just laughs and shakes her head and slides onto a stool at the kitchen island and looks through one of her aunt's recipe books until her dads say they're heading out for the day. She reminds them about the party and they mention that either she or Noah needs to remain sober or call for a ride, and she nods her head an they kiss her cheeks before they leave. They'll probably be in bed when she and Noah get home later, and she laughs when she hears her dad say, "Dear god, must it be so hot out?" before the door closes behind them.
She finishes her cup of coffee and walks to Noah's room. Peering through a crack in the door, she sees that he's still asleep and laying mostly in the middle of the bed with his hands tucked up under the pillow. He sleeps in ridiculous positions most of the time. She decides she's going to slide into bed next to him and curl up behind him, press her chest to his back. Mostly because she knows he'll hate it, being the 'little spoon'. It's totally not manly, and he actually broke up with a girl (well, stopped sleeping with a girl) once because of it, he's told her.
He's not going to break up with her. They're not together and she's realized she can basically get away with anything with him.
His body is incredibly warm, despite the air conditioning being on, which explains his bare torso and the blankets pushed down around his hips. She'd worry about his state of dress, but she can see the waistband of his boxers, so she knows she's safe. He doesn't shift as she crawls in behind him and slides her hand up his body to rest on his chest. He's very solidly built and she generally likes the security of being around him, and sharing a bed is no different.
"You suck," he mumbles before she's even realized he's awake. She's been laying here with her eyes closed for about a half hour, knowing she won't get to sleep. She giggles a little bit, her cheek pressed against the back of his shoulder. "Why?"
"I don't know," she admits. "I wanted to."
"Dumped."
She laughs again and he turns so he's on his back and grabs her before she can move too far away. "We should..."
"Stay," he says, hand on her wrist, pulling it back up to sit on his chest again. He tucks her against him, his other hand moving to sit on her side near her breast.
The sun is shining through the windows and it's nearing 10:00 a.m., and they'd talked about going running before it got too warm. That plan is clearly ruined, but then he takes a deep breath and she feels it beneath her cheek, so she forgets to care.
... ... ...
The party is small, and she likes that. Someone hands her a cup of Jameson when they arrive, which Noah tells her is whiskey, so she passes it to him and tells him she'll drive them home if he wants to have a couple drinks. Everyone is in the hot tub, which is right next to the resort's pool, and Rachel thinks whoever is hosting this party rented the facilities for the night or something, because there are just a dozen or so people their age around, and no other people swimming. And it's dangerous to mix water and alcohol, but Alexa is a trained lifeguard and she's not drinking either.
Rachel explains that she and Noah aren't dating, but Alexa doesn't believe her. Maybe because when Noah pulls his shirt off, he tosses it in her direction and it hits her in the face and then he winks at her as he sinks into the hot tub with Mason and another boy she's never seen.
"That's Darren," Alexa says, adjusting her bathing suit over her breasts. "Totally cute, and he's like, a straight theater boy. How many of those do you know?"
Rachel giggles. "One, now."
They both laugh and Noah looks over at her and smiles, then shouts at her to get her ass in the water. She's jealous of his ability to make friends wherever it is he goes. It's not fair that she's somewhat awkward and hopeless and he fits in with everyone.
That said, she does garner some of the male attention at this party when she lifts her dress over her head.
Alexa gets in before her and sits between Noah and Mason, and Rachel finds herself sitting between Mason and this boy Darren with the messy hair and crooked grin. He kind of reminds her of Finn, but he's a little sexier, if she may dare to say it. He smiles at her and she smiles back. Alexa introduces them and Rachel worries she's already played a little matchmaker, but the boy starts asking questions she knows Alexa would have already covered, so maybe not. And if Alexa thought Rachel and Noah were together, she probably wouldn't have been trying to set Rachel up with this boy before she even got to the party.
She's laughing at Darren's claim that he'd sell his left nut to be on Broadway. It's really not as funny as she's making it out to be, but the way he said it makes her laugh so hard her stomach hurts. He explains that he's very attached to his left nut, and then nearly spits out his drink laughing when she says, "Actually, it's very attached to you." Noah looks over, smiles a little, and she takes a breath. That look on his face is rare, and it makes her tuck her hair behind her ear as she turns back to Darren.
"Noah sings, too," she says after a while.
"Yeah?" Darren asks. She nods. "I want to hear you."
She shakes her head quickly. "No." She's not the same girl she was at 16 (or even 17) desperate for any kind of stage and always ready to sing something show stopping and bring admirers to their knees. "I'm not nearly drunk enough to just burst into song."
He slips his arm around her in what she's sure he thinks is a subtle way. "Well, let's get you a drink, then."
She laughs and gives him a look, and she's just about to ask if he's trying to get her drunk when Noah kicks her shin a little and jerks his head in the direction of the pool no one's swimming in.
Honestly, Darren is coming on a little strong, whether all he wants is to hear her sing or he wants something more. He's not going to get either, and she likes that Noah knows that and could rescue her.
Then he's got her hand in his as they walk across the courtyard to the pool, and he drains the last of what she thinks is his second or maybe third drink. Definitely third, if the way he sets his hand on her hip is any indication.
"Okay?" he asks. She nods. "Buddy was kind of all over you."
"It was fine. He just wanted to hear me sing."
It sounds like a lie as soon as it leaves her lips.
Noah shrugs and steps closer to her. "I could make you scream."
Her eyes widen and she looks up at him and stutters out a, "What?" but then he's pushing at her stomach and she's stumbling backwards and falling into the water, screaming as she goes.
She could kill him.
He jumps in after her and is laughing when he surfaces. Her hair was done perfectly and she'd managed to keep it dry, and he just had to go and ruin it! What a jerk. She splashes him as she pouts, and tries to swim away, but he manages to reach out for her and hold her by her sides, pull her back to him.
"That was shitty," she says as he holds her against him. It's not often she swears, but she's mad right now.
"Sorry."
"No, you aren't." He turns her around in the water. It comes to her chest and just below his, and he's looking down at her like he's kind of still proud of himself for doing that to her. "I'm mad at you now."
"Stop pouting."
He grabs her by the elbows and pulls her into deeper water with him. Kicking her legs to stay afloat, she watches him. He's always affectionate with her but he seems to be touching her an awful lot tonight. He settles his hands on her hips and pulls her to him. It forces her to open her legs and she ends up with them wrapped around his waist as he treads water. They end up against a wall with his back against the ledge, and he's asking her what Darren said and if he was really funny and if she wants to go back to the hot tub.
No, not really. She's enjoying being this close with him, as wrong as it probably is.
"I'm getting cold," she says. He cups his hands and brings water up, splashes it over her shoulders. It doesn't do much for her temperature, but she appreciates the gesture.
"Wanna go?" he asks. He moves his leg and his shorts are rough on the inside of her thigh, and she just nods her head.
Something is going on here, and as much as she'd like to blame it on the alcohol, she thinks that has little to nothing to do with it.
She hands him a towel when he climbs out of the pool after her, and he drapes his over his shoulders haphazardly and wraps her up in hers, rubs her shoulders and asks if she's better. At some point, Alexa went back up to her condo to get something, and Mason tells Rachel that if they head up the elevator, they can get into the condo before Alexa leaves to come back down.
As soon as they're in the elevator, Noah has his hands on her hips and her back is to the wall as he looks down at her.
"How drunk are you?" she asks seriously. He's...She's been around him when he's been drinking before, and he wasn't like this. He's making it seem like he wants her.
She's spent a lot of the last year trying to convince people he doesn't.
He tugs his fingers through her hair, brushes it off her neck and leans in to feather a few kisses along her skin. "Sober enough to know I shouldn't do this."
She breathes heavily and lets her eyes flutter closed, but then the elevator door opens and he steps away, lets her walk down the hall ahead of him. They have a short talk with Alexa as they grab their things and Rachel agrees that they should all meet for lunch or dinner or something before everyone leaves, so they swap numbers again while Noah changes back into his jeans.
He hands her his keys when they get to the parking lot, and gets in the passenger side without a word.
"You look sexy," he tells her, watching her drive his Jeep back to the cabin.
"What are you doing?" she asks, laughing quietly. He shrugs his shoulder and looks out his window again.
Part of her is really hoping her fathers will be awake when she and Noah get home so she can diffuse this situation. She also wants to text Santana and ask what the hell she's supposed to do right now, even though she knows Santana's response will be that she should get naked and let him fuck her into a coma. Actually, Santana has said that before, several times, and generally when the situation had nothing to do with Noah at all.
Anyway, she's not going to sleep with Noah when her fathers are in the house. Or at all.
His fingers are in her hair again, massaging her scalp as she drives, and she pulls her head away after a minute or two so his hand lands on her shoulder and he's smirking at her
"Stop," she says laughingly. "I can't concentrate."
They get to the house and walk up the steps. The door is locked, but her dads' car is in the driveway, so she knows they're in bed. Noah is right behind her with his hands moving over her hips, lifting her dress a little bit every time he moves them up and down, all while she tries to fit the key into the lock. She doesn't tell him to stop, but she moves away from him as soon as they're inside with the door closed behind them, and tells him she's going to go change and she'll be back down in a minute.
Why she didn't just tell him she was going to bed, she has no idea. It's nearing 1:00 a.m. and she should be just going to sleep. There's a part of her that's really very curious to know what he's trying to do here. It's probably the same part of her that never, ever really believed he could just be friends with a girl.
She goes back downstairs in her cotton shorts and tank top with a sweatshirt overtop (actually, it's one of his) and sees him laying on the sofa in his jeans and tee shirt, remote in his hand and flipping through channels. She thinks he'll move for her, and he does, sort of. He moves so he's on his side and there's room for her in front of him. She looks at him doubtfully, but he says, "You owe me for this morning," and she finds herself smiling a little bit and laying down with him, stealing the remote and looking for something halfway decent to watch that isn't wrestling or sports highlights.
He plays with the bottom of her sweatshirt with one hand and her hair with the other, and she knows his lips are very close to her ear, because every time he lets out his breath she can feel it and it's kind of driving her crazy.
She leaves the television on a History Channel special on Stonehenge and asks, "Is this okay?" and he just lets out a hum in her ear, so she knows he's definitely not paying attention to anything but what his hands are doing, because if he were, he'd be telling her to change the channel.
She lets him do it because it feels good.
He loves her hair, and she knows this because he tells her regularly. No matter what style she wears it in or how she cuts it, he tells her it's one of his favourite of her features. She's never asked what the rest of them are.
Given the way his fingertips are ghosting up and down her thigh between her knee and the bottom of her shorts, she can venture a guess that her legs are on the list.
He kisses her neck again. She's trying to pay attention to this thing about Stonehenge, because it really does seem very interesting, and she barely feels his lips against her skin, but the second time he does it is with more pressure. Part of her is dying to turn her head and just kiss him. The rest of her loves these little touches and kisses he's laying on her. His hand sneaks beneath her shirt and under her tank top so he can touch her skin, and he presses her back against him so there's no space at all between them.
She wants to say his name, but she closes her eyes instead and lets him trace his finger around her belly button.
He coos, "Baby," in her ear.
She's done for.
She turns a bit and his lips are on hers before she's even in a comfortable enough position to kiss him back. Her arm is awkwardly pinned between them and he's holding her side tightly so she doesn't fall off the couch, and really, the kiss isn't what she expects. She expects teeth and tongue, the way they used to kiss, back when they used to kiss. You know, when she was trying to make Finn jealous and Noah didn't mind helping.
Anyway, it's not like that. He's kind of sipping at her lips, giving her these gentle little pecks she's almost mad at him for. They've been laying here for a half hour with his hands doing things to her skin and this is how he's kissing her now? She pulls away from him only long enough to move so she's on her side facing him, and his hand slides over her cheek and to the back of her neck so he can pull her closer. His kisses are marginally more...more. She moans into his mouth and wonders why the hell they're on a couch. It's probably for the best, though, or she can't promise she wouldn't do something she shouldn't do with her fathers anywhere in the vicinity.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he says.
She has to laugh, just softly, a low chuckle. It makes his fingers dig into her hips. "You started it."
He scoffs a bit, nips at her lips. "Not really," he says, and she'd ask what that means, but then he's licking her bottom lip after biting it gently and she's distracted.
Rachel is a girl who loves kissing. She's done a lot of it, mostly because she waited a long time before she decided she was ready to have sex. There's a lot to be said for a really good kiss, the kind you feel through your stomach and down to your toes. People forget about that in their rush to get to the other things. She likes to take her time getting there. She's never going to be one of those one night stand girls, mostly because she thinks you can't possibly pleasure someone to full potential without just kissing them for a while.
She's spent some time kissing Noah. Not enough, but some. She knows that if she drags her fingers down the side of his neck, he groans, and if she nibbles his bottom lip, he smiles against her, and if she does the same thing to the lobe of his ear, he full out moans and usually rolls his hips. There's a little divot at the back of his shoulder that she loves to set her fingers in, and it's only dawning on her now that it's a little strange to have remembered all this considering she hasn't kissed him in over a year.
She pulls away from him a little to think it over, and he just looks at her. She doesn't know what to do, why he's doing this or where it's going, and she's torn between wanting to initiate a conversation, wanting to run to her room and close the door, and wanting to just kiss him and say fuck the rest.
Maybe not 'fuck'. You know what she means.
(Her friends are bad influences.)
"You're not into this," he states, eyes on her face.
"No," she says quickly. "No, I am."
"Doesn't really seem like it."
"You're drunk."
"I am not," he says. She knows. She's making up excuses, and maybe trying to give him an out when she knows him well enough to know he doesn't want one. "I just want this."
"Do you really?" she asks. She knows her eyes are wide and she probably sounds desperate, but all she really wants to know is that he's not going to...No, maybe she's desperate.
"Yeah." He's practically whispering, and he's rubbing his thumb back and forth over her hip bone, which is far too distracting, considering she's trying to resist him.
"Have you...Have you wanted this?"
He lets out a breathy laugh, leans back from her a little for the sole purpose of looking at her pathetically. He makes even that look sexy. "Rachel, come on."
Oh. Well, how long? How much? Since when? Wait, that's the same as the first question. Does he want to date her, or does he just want to sleep with her? Has he always been this good with his hands, and god, when did he become so hard against her thigh? Should she be asking him about things like protection or the long distance when they go away to school?
He slides his fingers across her forehead and gives her a little smile. "Stop thinking," he says.
"I'm not."
He laughs again. "Don't know why you think you can lie to me."
She moves her hand up to the back of his neck again, pulls them closer together and realizes she really wants this, too. She doesn't want to sleep with him (well, not tonight) but she wants more, wants to kiss him and maybe wants him to go back to putting his hand beneath her shirt and playing his fingertips over her ribs like some kind of instrument.
She thinks it has to mean something big that they stay on the couch until almost 3:30 a.m. kissing and he doesn't once so much as try to take her top off.
...Part II...