That the Moon Elbowed the Stars 11/17
Title: That the Moon Elbowed the Stars
Chapter: 11/17
Rating: R
Pairing: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: 8,025
Summary: And maybe it's an awful thing to think, but he wonders what's worse for her, losing New York or losing her dad.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Puck and Anna sort of start dating on accident.
Her roommate, Katie, starts dating this guy who is apparently a complete ass, and Anna's in this weird living situation where she's living and paying rent in the house, but Katie's parents actually own it, and they don't have a lease agreement.
She just glares when Puck points out that it probably wasn't a great idea to move into someone else's house without some sort of legal agreement, which makes him hold up his hands in surrender.
(And later, he's not sure whether that shit is something he picked up from Rachel or Santana. It sounds like something either of them would say.)
She comes over to the house one afternoon after she walked into her place and found Katie and her boyfriend going at it on the living room couch. She's all quiet when she walks into Puck's room and asks, "Do you mind if I hang out here tonight?"
"What are you gonna do for me, baby?" He's totally kidding, but she comes over to where he's sitting in his desk chair, gets on her knees between his legs, and starts unbuckling his belt, and it's not like he's going to stop her.
"You didn't have to do that," he tells her after, once he's caught his breath and she's sitting on his bed watching him, one leg crossed over the other.
"I know," she says, smiling and pulling a textbook out of her messenger bag.
He doesn't really think anything of it. He and Anna are sort of becoming friends, but really, for most of the time that they've known each other, it's just been sex. He knows some basics about her, and she knows some shit about him, but it's not like they're hanging out or having girly heart-to-hearts.
But then she is spending more time at the house, even if it's mostly just them sharing space while they do their own thing. Anna's actually really good at that. She doesn't ask for much beyond orgams, which they're both after, so, you know. It only takes a couple of weeks for Puck to get used to having her around, studying and watching hockey games or whatever, and one night she even makes this fucking delicious meat thing that's baked with mashed potatoes on top that makes Santana ask if she's ever considered batting for the other team.
The coy little smile she gives Santana means that Puck has to get her naked basically immediately. But whatever.
Anna isn't asking anything of Puck, isn't expecting him to be places or to do things, even though they are doing things in public besides meeting up at the same bar and having a drink or two together before they go and get naked. Santana points out that they're basically dating one morning after Anna drinks coffee with him before heading off to class.
He just shrugs, partially because it isn't a big deal, but mostly because it's too early for conversations of any kind.
She shows up at the door totally unannounced on a Saturday afternoon with tears in her eyes, which Puck has never seen.
"It's really stupid," she says when he ushers her into the living room. "Katie and the boyfriend have decided that they don't like the carpeting in our house, so they're pulling it up." Puck blinks. "Exactly. There's dust and nails and staples and shit everywhere. I can't even walk barefoot in my own house."
It's only mostly stupid, so Puck just says, "You can hang out barefoot here if you want."
That's when Anna starts sleeping at the house when she's sober instead of just after a night out, and Puck finally admits to Santana that they're dating or whatever. It really isn't a big deal.
*
Mike introduces Rachel to an entirely different art scene than she's used to, and she loves it. She's involved in Cabaret, though the lead goes to one of the seniors who's graduating in May, and she's busier than she's ever been, taking nineteen hours and working on the musical and even going to a weekly ballet class just to keep herself fresh, but Mike calls her up pretty regularly and insists that she take little breaks. He takes her to a krump show once, and then to a friend's found art exhibit at this little gallery in Brooklyn.
After just a few weeks, his loft becomes something of an escape. Nothing here is like her frenetic 'real' life. Tadd and Mark, Mike's roommates, are both hilarious, and she never feels like she's imposing when she spends time here. It's easy. Comfortable.
They're hanging out at the loft on a Friday afternoon, sitting on the couch, watching Singing in the Rain and ignoring Tadd's teasing, even if it is a little silly to watch the movie just because it's raining outside. Rachel looks at Mike with raised eyebrows when his phone buzzes on the coffee table; she has rules about phones and movies, and he knows them. He leans down to kiss her temple when he grabs it and heads down the hall into his own room to answer.
He reappears a few moments later with wide eyes. "I just got hired to do a Jason Derulo video."
"When did you audition for a music video?" she asks. It's the wrong thing to say, but it's the first thing that comes to mind.
"Tuesday," he answers simply, and she must get an indignant look on her face, because he grins a little. "I didn't want to jinx it by telling you."
It hits her all at once that she isn't reacting properly at all, being all caught up in the inconsequential details, so she leaps up off the couch and launches herself into Mike's arms with a little squeal. Her lips are against his ear when she murmurs, "That's amazing." She means it.
"We have to celebrate," she insists once he's set her back on her feet, and Tadd agrees and starts making calls to their friends.
They decide to go out to a pub that's just a few blocks away, and while Rachel would like to go home and change into something other than the tee shirt she threw on this morning for class, she's not going to go all the way back into Manhattan just to change her clothes. She layers two of Mike's white undershirts (to keep from wearing something completely transparent) with her own long black cardigan, then twists her hair up into a knot and applies some lip gloss. It isn't much, but she isn't trying too hard to impress anyone in this group, and besides that, this evening is about her. It's about Mike.
A bunch of the guys from Mike's crew meet them at this place. It's early in the evening, so they're really the only ones there, but no one seems to mind. People keep pushing drinks into Rachel's hand (mostly Mike), and at first she feels guilty for drinking without paying. Then, as she gets a little tipsier, she starts thinking all of these boys - whoever is paying - are just wonderful for taking care of her like this.
Then she's drunk and she forgets to think about it at all.
She's standing at the bar getting a much-needed glass of water when Mike walks up behind her, winding his arm around her waist until his hand is flat on her stomach. She looks over her shoulder and smiles up at him as he pulls her back against his chest. "Hi," she giggles.
"Hey," he answers. His thumb is tracing back and forth just beneath her breasts. "You wanna get out of here?"
"But it's your party," she protests.
"'S'not a party."
"You know what I mean." She sets her water glass on the bar and turns to look up at him. It presses his hand flat to the small of her back, keeping their bodies close. His eyes are dark on hers, and so intent that it makes her breath catch a little in her throat. "Mike."
He doesn't say anything, but his eyes are on her lips as he leans down, so she knows that he's going to kiss her.
It's just the barest brush of his lips against hers. "Mike," she repeats, whispering, her fingers curling into his tee shirt at his side. He lets out a breath, then slants his mouth over hers, kissing her in earnest and making something warm coil in her stomach.
It's still raining when they leave the bar. Mike holds her hand as they run the however many blocks, and when they get back to his building, her shoes are so saturated that they squish with each step she takes. He drags her into the bathroom so they're dripping on the tile floor instead of the hardwood. Rachel pushes her jeans down off her hips immediately, because few things are more uncomfortable than wet jeans, then she leans over the edge of the bathtub, pulling her hair over one shoulder and twisting the strands to squeeze out as much of the moisture as she can.
Mike's eyes are on her legs when she turns around, peeling her cardigan off her arms. He takes a step towards her, tossing his tee shirt in the direction of the bathtub. It draws her eyes down to his abs, which are even more defined than they were in high school, something she didn't think was possible. He lays his hands on her hips, pushing up a little at her wet tank top. She watches his eyes for a moment, then lifts her arms over her head, like an invitation. He pulls her shirt off, letting it fall to the floor with a wet sound.
His hands are hot against her damp skin, practically burning a trail over her collarbone and the side of her neck when he pushes her wet hair back off her shoulders, then traces the tips of his fingers down her sides until his hands are sitting on her hips.
"I'm really proud of you," she tells him, her eyes watching her palm slide down the middle of his abdomen to sit just above his belt. It's strange time to say it, maybe, but that doesn't make it any less true.
"Rachel," he chuckles, his fingertips digging into her skin a little.
"Take of your pants." She bites her lip when his eyes go wide. "They're wet. You'll catch a cold."
"You're still wearing wet clothes," he points out when he's unbuckling his belt.
She can tell he's surprised when she calls his bluff and reaches behind her back to unhook her bra, but then he's kissing her before she can say anything about it, pressing her back into the bathroom wall while he kicks off his jeans.
Sex with Mike is fun.
With the exception of her first time, which wasn't much fun at all, Rachel doesn't think she's ever had sex that she wouldn't describe as fun on some level, even if it's only because anything that feels that good is fun. But there isn't that heaviness, the weight of being in love with Mike and having the sex mean something, but she knows him. There's a familiarity between them that makes it easier.
He's flexible, and he understands just how flexible she is, so he does things to her body that she didin't even know were possible, murmuring a quiet, 'trust me' before positioning her body how he wants it. (He's right.) His hands never stop moving, his palms sliding up her thighs and over her back, his fingertips digging into her hips so he can move her the way he likes. He chuckles a little when the way he snaps his hips against hers makes her squeak his name, but she knows that he isn't laughing at her, and he pushes her over the edge just moments later.
"We should do this again."
Rachel turns her head to look over at him. He's brushing his fingertips up and down the inside of her arm and grinning. It's adorable. "Should we?"
He nods. "We're good together," he says, like she needs reminding.
"We are." His fingers circle her wrist, and he tugs gently until she's pressed against his side. "So we'll do it again," she murmurs just before he kisses her.
*
Puck doesn't know if everyone is aware, but Rachel Berry is really fucking random.
"Remember when I told you about the ducks in Central Park?"
That's what she says when he answers his phone. He only has so much time to finish his grocery shopping and get the shit back to the house before he has to go back to campus for a lecture, so answering probably wasn't the best idea. And no, he doesn't remember the ducks at all, but she'll hate it if he says that, so he just makes a noncommittal noise into the phone and grabs a giant bag of Doritos from the shelf.
"I just went to visit them!"
"That's great."
"You sound distracted. What are you doing?"
"Groceries," Noah answers, and it makes her smile.
She's perfectly aware that he doesn't care about the ducks, but she does, and he's willing to let her talk about them just a little bit before changing the subject. They call one another pretty regularly, and most of what they talk about is inconsequential like this. And she isn't the only offender. Noah calls her to talk about sports far more often than is strictly necessary.
Puck doesn't know how long he lets her go on about these fucking ducks and the little babies with their fluffy little feathers and whatever the hell else, but he manages to make it from the aisle with coffee and cereal all the way up to frozen foods before she stops. He's not sure if it's more impressive that she talked about ducks for that long, or that he was actually half-listening the whole time.
"So, hey," he finally interrupts. "Did you call to talk about something besides birds that float?"
Rachel wanders into her bedroom and smiles when she spots the tee shirt Mike left when he was over last night. (Or the shirt that she pulled on to sleep in after they slept together.) "Just checking in," she tells Noah. "We hadn't talked in a few days."
Puck grins into the freezer case when he opens the door to get a package of pizza rolls. (He and Santana both crave them when they're drunk, so they don't usually keep them in the house, but fuck it.) "You know, as much as I'd like to hear all about the family of squirrels you're feeding walnuts in Bryant Park or whatever, I have like, ten minutes to get oranges for Santana and get the fuck out of here or I'm going to be late to class, so," he trails.
"Of course. We'll talk soon?"
"Yeah. Later, Rach."
*
Anna's Thursday night class is cancelled, so Puck picks her up from her house to take her to this Mexican restaurant they're both sort of obsessed with, a place that makes the best chile rellenos Puck's ever had. Katie, Anna's roommate, is just sitting on the couch in the living room with her boyfriend when Anna lets Puck in. Nothing seems to have changed in the last month or so; there are these huge, waterlogged piles of carpeting out beside the driveway, and Puck spots half a dozen nails on the floor just walking down the hallway to Anna's room.
Katie is a fucking bitch, and Anna needs to just move the fuck out. She just shakes her head when he tells her that, glancing over at him while she clasps a bracelet on her wrist. "You know the deal. As soon as I graduate, I'm going to Cleveland."
Puck just nods and tells her that she's staying with him tonight, leaning back in her desk chair when she starts tossing things into a bag to take to his place. The fact that Anna's moving in a couple of months is probably why he's okay with the whole dating thing. They both know what this is and exactly how long it's going to last, and that's a good thing.
They're both really disappointed when they get to the restaurant and realize that it's closed, a sign propped up in the front window announcing that the owners are taking a week for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. It doesn't even qualify as a substitute, but they go through the Taco Bell drive-thru before heading back to his house.
Puck drops the bag of food when he opens the door and hears Santana moaning Finn's name.
Anna gasps from behind him, because Santana and Finn are right there on the couch - the couch where Puck sits - completely naked and going at it.
He's muttering curses under his breath when he turns around, pushing a laughing Anna back out the door and towards the driveway. He knows that Finn and Santana had a thing that went on a couple of years ago, but it was never a thing and he never had to see it. And sure, he and Finn have shared a locker room, so Puck's seen him naked, and he's seen every bit of Santana, but it's totally different, seeing your two best friends having sex.
He and Anna end up sitting in his car in the parking lot of the bank down the street eating their food, then they go to some bookstore she likes for an hour or so to give Santana and Finn plenty of time to get a fucking room.
He doesn't get a chance to talk to Santana until Saturday afternoon. He's sitting at the table eating cereal when she comes in carrying a Starbucks cup with her hair up and her sunglasses on. "What?" she asks when she notices him looking at her.
"Finn?"
She flops down into the chair across from his with a sigh, pulling off her sunglasses. "It's not a big deal," she insists, rolling her eyes a little. "We're both too busy for it to be a big deal." He looks at her skeptically. "Jesus, what, Puck?"
"What about Rachel?" he asks, because that's all he's been thinking about since he managed to move beyond the shock of Finn's naked ass and Santana moaning. Puck spent so many years listening to both of them - Finn and Rachel - going on about meant to be and destiny and fate and whatever, that he can't help thinking about how she fits into all of this.
"'You're an idiot," Santana says flatly. "They haven't been together for real in years, and the last time they broke up was like, a year and a half ago." She stands up and shoves her chair forward under the table. "Besides, she's in New York fucking Mike Chang. Pretty sure the midget doesn't care that Finn and I are going at it again."
She stalks out of the room, leaving Puck with his second mindfuck of the week. Rachel's fucking Mike Chang? She told him that she ran into Chang and they've been hanging out, but she hasn't mentioned anything about fucking him. It's weird, because the girl tells him about everything, or at least he thought she did. He knows that this Maggie chick is her only rival in their program, and even though she plays it off, Puck knows that she's actually a little worried that this girl is better than she is. (He's pretty sure she isn't.) He knows that her neighbor across the hall travels a lot and has a cat that Rachel sometimes checks on for the guy. Jesus, he knows that Mike's roommates' names are Tadd and Mark because Rachel told him.
But she's fucking Mike Chang and didn't say anything?
He resists the urge to call her and ask what the hell is going on. They have a totally unspoken thing going on where they take turns calling each other, and it's her turn. If he calls her, she's going to know that's something's up, and he doesn't want to make this into a big deal.
(It doesn't even occur to him that Santana might be lying. She's a bitch, but she only lies when she gets something out of it, and this just doesn't fit.)
She calls him on Sunday evening, babbling something about her repetoire class and soy lattes, and he makes it four minutes before he interrupts.
"So, you're fucking Mike Chang?"
Rachel pauses in the middle of the sentence that he talked over (something about Holsteins). "Well, I wouldn't put it that way, since you're vulgar and abrupt, and it isn't any of your business, not really, but yes, Mike and I are sleeping together."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"Because it isn't any of your business," she repeats. She doesn't even know how he found out - Santana, probably - but she can't imagine why he'd care.
"So, what, now you're in love with Chang?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"What--no. What is wrong with you?"
Puck tips his phone away from his mouth and blows out a breath. What the fuck is wrong with him? She's right; it isn't any of his business who she's fucking, and it's not like he's told her everything (anything) about Anna. They don't talk about shit like that. Except he thought that it was just that he didn't talk about it, but Rachel did. "I guess I just thought you'd tell me if you were dating someone or whatever," he finally answers.
Rachel pulls her legs up onto the couch where she's sitting and smiles. "We aren't serious," she says after a moment. "We're friends and...more," she says, struggling a little for the right word to explain it, "but we aren't falling in love or anything dramatic."
He snorts out a laugh. "You mean Rachel Berry is doing something that isn't dramatic?" he asks, sarcastic again, but less mean-sounding this time. "Wonders never cease!"
"Stop it."
*
This year, Rachel is prepared when the day rolls around, the anniversary of Daddy's death. Time does make a difference, even though she thinks about him every day, and sometimes she misses him so much it hurts to breathe. She think that the distance, being in New York instead of Ohio, has made a difference, too. And besides all that, she just doesn't have time for another breakdown. She has a rehearsal for the musical that afternoon, and she's up early to work on a project for her Performing Arts in Western Civilization class.
She calls Dad first thing, partially to get it out of the way, but mostly because she woke up thinking about him. She hasn't been home since Thanksgiving, which is the longest she's ever been away, and she doesn't know when she's going to have another chance to get back since she's taking summer courses and considering getting a job to pad her bank account a little. She misses him more than she can explain, and if she doesn't call him often enough, it's because talking to him actually makes her miss him more.
Rehearsal goes straight through dinner, and while she'd normally be ravenous by the time they finished, she barely notices that she hasn't eaten. She spreads some hummus on a whole wheat tortilla when she gets home, carries it to her bedroom on a paper towel with a glass of cran-apple juice, and crawls into bed after she's wriggled out of her jeans.
She takes exactly one bite before she's reaching for her phone where she left it on her bedside table and scrolling through her contact list for Noah's number.
Puck's fiddling with the numbers in a computer model when his phone rings, and even though he isn't surprised to see Rachel's name on the display, he didn't exactly expect it either. "Hey," he answers quietly, pushing his chair back from his desk a bit.
Of course he remembers what today is. He was with her when it happened, was there for her last year. She lets out a little breath. "I miss everyone today."
Jesus. "Rach."
"It's not like last year," she says quickly. "I went to class and rehearsal and everything. But I miss my dad, and I'll miss Daddy forever, and today I really, really miss you and Santana and Sam and Finn, and I may never have time to come home even for a weekend, and it's just really getting me down."
She's talking really fast, and he can hear that about to cry thing in her voice. It sucks, and he doesn't know what the hell to do about it when he's here and she's there.
She speaks again before he can figure out something to say to her. "I'm just emotional."
"Makes sense," he says neutrally. "But hey, I bet you can convince Santana to come see you this summer. Or maybe I'll come and make you show me around."
"I'd like that."
They talk about nothing for a while, and she feels better after she's hung up, enough better that she finishes her paltry dinner while she watches her favorite episode of The Office on Netflix on her laptop.
(It's the one when Jim and Pam first kiss, because as bittersweet as it is, she likes that they struggled for their relationship as much as she likes them together later on.)
*
Rachel sits on the couch in Mike's loft to watch the Jason Derulo video he danced in when it's uploaded to YouTube, the video streaming to the television the way Mark set it up. Mike is highlighted throughout, and while it's mostly Derulo with three or four guys behind him, there's one bit that's just him and Mike. It's excellent, and Rachel tells him that before they go into his room and lock the door so she can show him just how proud she is.
So it isn't really a surprise when, just a week after the video premieres on MTV, he's asked to be one of the dancers on Derulo's first headlining tour.
"It's like, most of the summer," he tells Rachel when he's sitting up in her bed talking about it. "It's all over the country and in Canada, and apparently they're planning a European tour for next year that, like..." He trails off, looking over at her with wide eyes. "This is the most important job I've ever gotten, Rach."
"I know," she says seriously. She does, and it's adorable, how excited he is. "You deserve it, and I'm so proud of you."
He grins, and this little glimmer comes into his eyes. He moves so he's lying on top of her and kisses her gently. "I really like the way that sounds," he admits against her lips. She goes a little soft inside for him; his parents are proud of him on some level, she knows, but this isn't at all the life they pictured for him. Most of the conversations he has with them are of the 'you should have been an accountant instead of dancing around for attention' variety, and she knows that it bothers him.
Being supported as an artist is important, and Rachel truly believes that Mike is exceptional at what he does. She likes to tell him as often as she can.
Later, when he's sleeping beside her and she's waiting to doze off, it occurs to her that if he's going to be gone for most of the summer, this casual thing they've been doing is probably going to end. He isn't her boyfriend, and she certainly loves him, but she isn't in love with him. It's absurd to think that they could go from not being in a relationship at all to trying to be in a long-distance relationship when he's on tour with some rock star.
It makes her a little sad, but thinking about it doesn't break her heart. She thinks their friendship will survive, and she thinks that's more important than the other stuff anyhow. She decides to just enjoy him while she has him and let what's going to happen, happen.
It's such a far cry from the obsessive girl that she was just five years ago that she falls asleep with a smile on her face.
*
When one of Puck's professors told him about an internship at an architecture firm in New York City, he didn't really think that he had a chance in hell at getting it. It isn't the most prestigious thing ever (though they do exactly the kind of stuff he thinks he wants to do), but that doesn't mean that there aren't a ton of people applying for it, people who have known forever that they wanted to be architects and didn't spend their first two years of college basically fucking around.
He's actually forgotten all about it when he gets the letter in the mail, which makes it kind of an awesome surprise, and at first, he's pretty excited. Except he never seriously considered the chance that he'd get the job, so now he has to figure out where he's going to live for six week in New York City when he's working an unpaid internship.
He knows two people in the city, both of whom he thinks would be willing to deal with his ass for a while without hating him. Rachel (and Facebook) told him about the tour thing Chang's doing, so Puck calls him first. He gets it in his head that he can stay at Mike's place while he's gone and like, pay rent to his roommates or whatever.
"Dude," Mike says before Puck even gets a chance to run down his 'plan.' "If I'd known you were going to be here this summer, I wouldn't have sublet my room and you could've stayed here for free."
Well, fuck.
Chang's already found some guy to live in his room and pay rent while he's gone, and yeah, Mike's a really good friend, but he's also a really good guy, and he isn't going to go back on his word with someone else.
He doesn't exactly want to ask Rachel, partially because he doesn't know if they could actually live together without making one another crazy and ending up hating each other, and partially because sleeping on a couch or an air mattress for six weeks isn't the most appealing idea in the world.
He spends like, hours online, looking at place that people are subletting and trying to figure out where they are in the city in relation to the firm he's going to be working at and whether or not he can even afford this shit with what he's got in his bank account now. Real estate in this city is fucking ridiculous. Like, staying in a shitty little studio (which is fine) for six weeks is going to cost more than double what he and Santana pay each month for their two-bedroom house with a garage and a yard. He already knows that Santana's going to have to cover their rent for the summer while he's gone (they talked about it, and even though she bitched for a good twenty minutes about how it's going to cut into her disposable income, he knows that spending her dad's money is a non-issue), but he's kind of hoping to be able to actually pay rent when he gets back to Columbus, and that isn't going to be possible if he stays at any of these places.
Plus, the one that's sort of in his price range looks like it's in the shittiest neighborhood in ever, and his mom will lose her fucking mind if she finds out he's staying here. He likes to not worry her half to death, especially since he spent a good portion of high school doing just that.
It's really fucking annoying that when he finally decides to give up and call Rachel to talk to her about maybe crashing on her couch (fuck) for six weeks (fuck), he gets her goddamn voice mail.
It's almost eleven that night when she calls him back, and she sounds tired when he answers.
"The show opens in three days," she explains when he mentions it. "Rehearsals are a little intense right now. But how are you?"
"I got an internship in New York this summer," he says instead of answering her question. Or maybe that is the answer to her question.
"Noah, that's amazing!" she exclaims. She finishes unlocking her door and pushes her way into her apartment, dropping her things just inside the door. She's really, really tired, and the thought of dragging them even a little further is not appealing. All that appeals, really, is going into her room and falling into bed. "When are you going to be here?"
"It's six weeks, from the end of June to the beginning of August at a firm that specializes in designing like, mansions and shit for people out in the Hamptons or wherever," he answers, heading off her next question. He knows her, okay? "I kind of don't have anywhere to live though."
"You'll stay with me," she says simply, and he kind of loves Rachel for shit like that. Just saying that he'll stay with her without even pausing to think about it, like it isn't even a question. It's just a given that he's going to stay with her if he doesn't have anywhere else to stay, at least in her head.
"Thanks, Rach."
"Of course." She isn't going to let him turn down this opportunity over housing - which she knows he would do - and even if she doesn't love the idea of living with anyone else right now, given that she never has, she can adjust. It's only a few weeks. And frankly, she's so tired right now that she'd possibly agree to anything. "Noah, I really, really want to hear all about this, but I'm practically asleep on my feet," she tells him neutrally. "Can we talk about this in two weeks when the musical is over?"
He doesn't really have that many details yet anyhow, so he just says, "Yeah. Get some sleep."
She lets out a little hum. "Good night, Noah."
*
Puck spends the last couple of weeks of school studying his ass off and having loud, obnoxious sex with Anna at her house to piss off her roommate as much as they can before she moves out after finals.
It's equal parts fucking awesome and fucking bullshit, but whatever.
And look, he likes Anna, but he doesn't think he's going to miss her once she moves to Cleveland, and he knows the feeling is mutual. It's actually kind of nice to have this thing ending so easily, especially after the way things ended with Mia, who started out the same way Anna did.
The night before graduation - which is also the night before she's moving - she calls Puck and asks him to come over to her house. He's sort of confused, because she just spent the two days after finals moving all of her shit out of there, driving back and forth between Columbus and her new place in Cleveland. Like, she has nothing in the house to speak of, and she's staying with Puck tonight because her bed is gone and she doesn't want to stay with any of her friends.
She drags him into the kitchen and shoves him up against the fridge, knocking a bunch of magnets and shit onto the floor when she kisses him. And, you know, awesome.
He knows her roommate is in the house when he fucks Anna on the kitchen table, which is exactly the point, so Puck makes sure that she comes twice - loudly - before he lets go, then watches her with a smirk when she pulls her house keys off her keychain and leaves them in the middle of the table.
He's never been closer to actually loving the girl than he is in that moment.
*
Rachel and Mike don't really break up, but that's because they aren't exactly dating. He's easily her best friend in the city, but things between them have been very, very casual, and there isn't any way to sustain that when he's going to be gone for however long on this tour that just keeps having dates added to it.
He comes over to her place the night before he heads to Atlanta to start rehearsals, carrying with him a couple of boxes of things that he doesn't want to leave at the loft while he's gone, including his XBox and a bunch of games, which he's mostly bringing for Noah's benefit. They order Thai food and watch Crazy, Stupid Love while they eat even though they've both seen it.
He takes her hand and weaves their fingers together after she's turned off the television, tugging her up off the couch and into her bedroom. He peels her clothes off and takes care of her, and it's incredible. There aren't any declarations of love and neither of them admits that they'll miss the other; they don't need to say it, because they both know, and they don't have that sort of relationship anyhow.
The next morning, when he leaves to head to the airport, she hugs him goodbye at the door and insists that he call her if he meets anyone interesting and famous. It's vague, yes, but he knows her, so he just laughs and kisses her forehead when he promises that he will.
*
Rachel calls him to confirm his flight's arrival time and the gate and all that, which surprises Puck not at all, even though he emailed all of it to her already.
"I'm excited for you to get here," she admits when he teases her about it on the phone the night before. "I haven't seen you in forever."
She's almost right. Thanksgiving does feel like it was forever ago. "Hey, you better not have watched the Godfather movies already," he tells her since he's thinking about it. "You can't do that shit without me."
She doesn't confirm or deny, just laughs and tells him that she'll see him tomorrow afternoon at the airport.
(Of course she hasn't watched them without him.)
She's waiting for him when he gets off the plane, looking down at her phone and standing there in a little pair of denim shorts and a loose, low-cut black and white striped tank top with skinny straps. She looks up when he's walking towards her, smiling brightly and closing the space between them to hug him. "You're here!"
"Your hair is really long," he says, because it is. There are layers and stuff, and she still has bangs, but it's practically waist-length and totally straight. It looks good, just like the rest of her. She feels good, too, pressed up against him with her hands clutching at the back of his tee shirt just a tiny bit.
"I like it like this." She shrugs one shoulder, running her fingers over the strands. "So, what do you want to do first?" she asks, turning to lead him towards the baggage claim. She knows that Noah has only been to the city once, back in high school, and there were so many things they didn't get to see then, things she knows he'll love.
And yes, she already has some things planned, regardless of what Noah says he wants to see. He's here for six weeks, so they'll have plenty of time to fit everything in.
Truth? He kind of just wants to hang out with Rachel and let her get started on whatever giant list of things to do she has for him tomorrow. (Yeah, he knows her.) She smiles when he tells her that. "There's a great pizza place that delivers to my building. And yes," she says before he can interrupt, "it's real pizza with real cheese, even if I won't eat that part."
They spend that first night just hanging out, eating pizza and drinking beer on her couch while they talk and half-watch a Criminal Minds marathon, catching up on all the things they didn't talk about during the semester.
Rachel's couch is a sofabed, so she helps him move her coffee table over against the wall and folds it out when she catches him yawning. She's made the thing up with plain white sheets, and she pulls a plain yellow comforter out of the linen closet. "It's the least feminine bedding I own," she apologizes when she hands it over.
Puck doesn't give a fuck what he sleeps on, to be honest, especially since she's letting him take over his living room for the entire fucking summer. "I don't care," he tells her, spreading the thing out on what he's already thinking of as his bed. She's smiling when she hands him a pair of pillows in white cases. "Really."
She offers him a tiny little smile. She finds it hard to believe that a self-proclaimed badass doesn't mind sleeping with a yellow comforter. "Good night, Noah."
The sheets are soft and smell like fabric softener, and even though it's kind of loud here in her apartment with the sounds of traffic from the street, he's tired enough that it doesn't take him long to fall asleep.
*
It's an adjustment, living with someone else, particularly since Noah is sleeping in what would be shared space even if she had a roommate. And now not only is she sharing a bathroom, but she's sharing with a boy.
She knows that this is Noah on his best behavior. He's keeping all of his things very tidy, and he folds up the sofa every morning before he leaves for his job, tucking the comforter and pillows back into the linen closet to keep things neat. He doesn't leave his clothes lying anywhere, and he always hangs up his wet towels. She figures that sharing a bathroom with Santana for two years has kept him from being too disgusting in there.
God, she hopes he isn't doing anything disgusting in her bathroom.
*
Puck kind of thinks that interships are just a big scheme for companies to get college kids to come and do the bullshit they don't want to do, like filing and going on coffee runs, and that's really what he's expecting. He's hoping that maybe there'll be someone who doesn't totally suck who'll at least like, engage in a conversation about what she does, because this firm does exactly the kind of thing Puck would like to do someday, but he's not holding his breath. And it turns out that it is a lot of the run-around bullshit, but he thinks some of these people give a shit about helping the interns (there are five of them) actually learn something this summer.
Rachel starts getting up about the same time he does after just a few days even though he knows that she doesn't have to be anywhere for a couple of hours after he leaves. (The girl has her schedule - and his - up on the fridge. He knows when she has to be places.) The thing is, Puck doesn't really talk in the morning, and he never has. Most of the time, the first time he speaks at all on a given day is when he gets to wherever he has to go, be it school or whatever else. His mom and Abby knew that, obviously, and it never really came up when he was sharing a dorm room with Sam since the guy took earlier classes than Puck. Santana's a fucking bitch in the mornings, so he wouldn't talk to her even if he was one of those people who likes chatting over coffee or what the fuck ever. He doesn't have to say anything to Rachel either. It's like she just gets that he isn't going to want to talk before he leaves for work.
It doesn't suck though, getting out of the shower and walking into the kitchen to find that she's made a pot of coffee even though she doesn't always drink it. It's really nice, actually. He asks her why she's up after about three days.
She smiles a little over her mug of Lady Grey. "I'm not used to living with someone else," she says simply, which isn't really an answer.
Noah's stirring sugar into his coffee when it finally clicks. "I wake you up?" She smiles again. "Fuck, Rach, I'm sorry."
"You aren't loud, I'm just used to being alone."
It doesn't matter what she says, now he feels like an asshole for waking her up and then not really talking to her before he leaves.
Rachel can tell that he's trying to be quieter the next morning, which is silly. He isn't doing anything wrong or being inconsiderate. It's the sound of water running in the shower that wakes her up, and he can't stop bathing. Her dads' bathroom was too far away from her bedroom to hear at home, and she's been living alone for three years. It's the sort of thing that she'll probably get used to sooner or later, and besides that, it's easier living with Noah like this when they're on the same schedule. She tells him that when he slinks into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee after he's gotten dressed, and the way he nods lets her know that he still doesn't believe it.
Chapter: 11/17
Rating: R
Pairing: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: 8,025
Summary: And maybe it's an awful thing to think, but he wonders what's worse for her, losing New York or losing her dad.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Puck and Anna sort of start dating on accident.
Her roommate, Katie, starts dating this guy who is apparently a complete ass, and Anna's in this weird living situation where she's living and paying rent in the house, but Katie's parents actually own it, and they don't have a lease agreement.
She just glares when Puck points out that it probably wasn't a great idea to move into someone else's house without some sort of legal agreement, which makes him hold up his hands in surrender.
(And later, he's not sure whether that shit is something he picked up from Rachel or Santana. It sounds like something either of them would say.)
She comes over to the house one afternoon after she walked into her place and found Katie and her boyfriend going at it on the living room couch. She's all quiet when she walks into Puck's room and asks, "Do you mind if I hang out here tonight?"
"What are you gonna do for me, baby?" He's totally kidding, but she comes over to where he's sitting in his desk chair, gets on her knees between his legs, and starts unbuckling his belt, and it's not like he's going to stop her.
"You didn't have to do that," he tells her after, once he's caught his breath and she's sitting on his bed watching him, one leg crossed over the other.
"I know," she says, smiling and pulling a textbook out of her messenger bag.
He doesn't really think anything of it. He and Anna are sort of becoming friends, but really, for most of the time that they've known each other, it's just been sex. He knows some basics about her, and she knows some shit about him, but it's not like they're hanging out or having girly heart-to-hearts.
But then she is spending more time at the house, even if it's mostly just them sharing space while they do their own thing. Anna's actually really good at that. She doesn't ask for much beyond orgams, which they're both after, so, you know. It only takes a couple of weeks for Puck to get used to having her around, studying and watching hockey games or whatever, and one night she even makes this fucking delicious meat thing that's baked with mashed potatoes on top that makes Santana ask if she's ever considered batting for the other team.
The coy little smile she gives Santana means that Puck has to get her naked basically immediately. But whatever.
Anna isn't asking anything of Puck, isn't expecting him to be places or to do things, even though they are doing things in public besides meeting up at the same bar and having a drink or two together before they go and get naked. Santana points out that they're basically dating one morning after Anna drinks coffee with him before heading off to class.
He just shrugs, partially because it isn't a big deal, but mostly because it's too early for conversations of any kind.
She shows up at the door totally unannounced on a Saturday afternoon with tears in her eyes, which Puck has never seen.
"It's really stupid," she says when he ushers her into the living room. "Katie and the boyfriend have decided that they don't like the carpeting in our house, so they're pulling it up." Puck blinks. "Exactly. There's dust and nails and staples and shit everywhere. I can't even walk barefoot in my own house."
It's only mostly stupid, so Puck just says, "You can hang out barefoot here if you want."
That's when Anna starts sleeping at the house when she's sober instead of just after a night out, and Puck finally admits to Santana that they're dating or whatever. It really isn't a big deal.
*
Mike introduces Rachel to an entirely different art scene than she's used to, and she loves it. She's involved in Cabaret, though the lead goes to one of the seniors who's graduating in May, and she's busier than she's ever been, taking nineteen hours and working on the musical and even going to a weekly ballet class just to keep herself fresh, but Mike calls her up pretty regularly and insists that she take little breaks. He takes her to a krump show once, and then to a friend's found art exhibit at this little gallery in Brooklyn.
After just a few weeks, his loft becomes something of an escape. Nothing here is like her frenetic 'real' life. Tadd and Mark, Mike's roommates, are both hilarious, and she never feels like she's imposing when she spends time here. It's easy. Comfortable.
They're hanging out at the loft on a Friday afternoon, sitting on the couch, watching Singing in the Rain and ignoring Tadd's teasing, even if it is a little silly to watch the movie just because it's raining outside. Rachel looks at Mike with raised eyebrows when his phone buzzes on the coffee table; she has rules about phones and movies, and he knows them. He leans down to kiss her temple when he grabs it and heads down the hall into his own room to answer.
He reappears a few moments later with wide eyes. "I just got hired to do a Jason Derulo video."
"When did you audition for a music video?" she asks. It's the wrong thing to say, but it's the first thing that comes to mind.
"Tuesday," he answers simply, and she must get an indignant look on her face, because he grins a little. "I didn't want to jinx it by telling you."
It hits her all at once that she isn't reacting properly at all, being all caught up in the inconsequential details, so she leaps up off the couch and launches herself into Mike's arms with a little squeal. Her lips are against his ear when she murmurs, "That's amazing." She means it.
"We have to celebrate," she insists once he's set her back on her feet, and Tadd agrees and starts making calls to their friends.
They decide to go out to a pub that's just a few blocks away, and while Rachel would like to go home and change into something other than the tee shirt she threw on this morning for class, she's not going to go all the way back into Manhattan just to change her clothes. She layers two of Mike's white undershirts (to keep from wearing something completely transparent) with her own long black cardigan, then twists her hair up into a knot and applies some lip gloss. It isn't much, but she isn't trying too hard to impress anyone in this group, and besides that, this evening is about her. It's about Mike.
A bunch of the guys from Mike's crew meet them at this place. It's early in the evening, so they're really the only ones there, but no one seems to mind. People keep pushing drinks into Rachel's hand (mostly Mike), and at first she feels guilty for drinking without paying. Then, as she gets a little tipsier, she starts thinking all of these boys - whoever is paying - are just wonderful for taking care of her like this.
Then she's drunk and she forgets to think about it at all.
She's standing at the bar getting a much-needed glass of water when Mike walks up behind her, winding his arm around her waist until his hand is flat on her stomach. She looks over her shoulder and smiles up at him as he pulls her back against his chest. "Hi," she giggles.
"Hey," he answers. His thumb is tracing back and forth just beneath her breasts. "You wanna get out of here?"
"But it's your party," she protests.
"'S'not a party."
"You know what I mean." She sets her water glass on the bar and turns to look up at him. It presses his hand flat to the small of her back, keeping their bodies close. His eyes are dark on hers, and so intent that it makes her breath catch a little in her throat. "Mike."
He doesn't say anything, but his eyes are on her lips as he leans down, so she knows that he's going to kiss her.
It's just the barest brush of his lips against hers. "Mike," she repeats, whispering, her fingers curling into his tee shirt at his side. He lets out a breath, then slants his mouth over hers, kissing her in earnest and making something warm coil in her stomach.
It's still raining when they leave the bar. Mike holds her hand as they run the however many blocks, and when they get back to his building, her shoes are so saturated that they squish with each step she takes. He drags her into the bathroom so they're dripping on the tile floor instead of the hardwood. Rachel pushes her jeans down off her hips immediately, because few things are more uncomfortable than wet jeans, then she leans over the edge of the bathtub, pulling her hair over one shoulder and twisting the strands to squeeze out as much of the moisture as she can.
Mike's eyes are on her legs when she turns around, peeling her cardigan off her arms. He takes a step towards her, tossing his tee shirt in the direction of the bathtub. It draws her eyes down to his abs, which are even more defined than they were in high school, something she didn't think was possible. He lays his hands on her hips, pushing up a little at her wet tank top. She watches his eyes for a moment, then lifts her arms over her head, like an invitation. He pulls her shirt off, letting it fall to the floor with a wet sound.
His hands are hot against her damp skin, practically burning a trail over her collarbone and the side of her neck when he pushes her wet hair back off her shoulders, then traces the tips of his fingers down her sides until his hands are sitting on her hips.
"I'm really proud of you," she tells him, her eyes watching her palm slide down the middle of his abdomen to sit just above his belt. It's strange time to say it, maybe, but that doesn't make it any less true.
"Rachel," he chuckles, his fingertips digging into her skin a little.
"Take of your pants." She bites her lip when his eyes go wide. "They're wet. You'll catch a cold."
"You're still wearing wet clothes," he points out when he's unbuckling his belt.
She can tell he's surprised when she calls his bluff and reaches behind her back to unhook her bra, but then he's kissing her before she can say anything about it, pressing her back into the bathroom wall while he kicks off his jeans.
Sex with Mike is fun.
With the exception of her first time, which wasn't much fun at all, Rachel doesn't think she's ever had sex that she wouldn't describe as fun on some level, even if it's only because anything that feels that good is fun. But there isn't that heaviness, the weight of being in love with Mike and having the sex mean something, but she knows him. There's a familiarity between them that makes it easier.
He's flexible, and he understands just how flexible she is, so he does things to her body that she didin't even know were possible, murmuring a quiet, 'trust me' before positioning her body how he wants it. (He's right.) His hands never stop moving, his palms sliding up her thighs and over her back, his fingertips digging into her hips so he can move her the way he likes. He chuckles a little when the way he snaps his hips against hers makes her squeak his name, but she knows that he isn't laughing at her, and he pushes her over the edge just moments later.
"We should do this again."
Rachel turns her head to look over at him. He's brushing his fingertips up and down the inside of her arm and grinning. It's adorable. "Should we?"
He nods. "We're good together," he says, like she needs reminding.
"We are." His fingers circle her wrist, and he tugs gently until she's pressed against his side. "So we'll do it again," she murmurs just before he kisses her.
*
Puck doesn't know if everyone is aware, but Rachel Berry is really fucking random.
"Remember when I told you about the ducks in Central Park?"
That's what she says when he answers his phone. He only has so much time to finish his grocery shopping and get the shit back to the house before he has to go back to campus for a lecture, so answering probably wasn't the best idea. And no, he doesn't remember the ducks at all, but she'll hate it if he says that, so he just makes a noncommittal noise into the phone and grabs a giant bag of Doritos from the shelf.
"I just went to visit them!"
"That's great."
"You sound distracted. What are you doing?"
"Groceries," Noah answers, and it makes her smile.
She's perfectly aware that he doesn't care about the ducks, but she does, and he's willing to let her talk about them just a little bit before changing the subject. They call one another pretty regularly, and most of what they talk about is inconsequential like this. And she isn't the only offender. Noah calls her to talk about sports far more often than is strictly necessary.
Puck doesn't know how long he lets her go on about these fucking ducks and the little babies with their fluffy little feathers and whatever the hell else, but he manages to make it from the aisle with coffee and cereal all the way up to frozen foods before she stops. He's not sure if it's more impressive that she talked about ducks for that long, or that he was actually half-listening the whole time.
"So, hey," he finally interrupts. "Did you call to talk about something besides birds that float?"
Rachel wanders into her bedroom and smiles when she spots the tee shirt Mike left when he was over last night. (Or the shirt that she pulled on to sleep in after they slept together.) "Just checking in," she tells Noah. "We hadn't talked in a few days."
Puck grins into the freezer case when he opens the door to get a package of pizza rolls. (He and Santana both crave them when they're drunk, so they don't usually keep them in the house, but fuck it.) "You know, as much as I'd like to hear all about the family of squirrels you're feeding walnuts in Bryant Park or whatever, I have like, ten minutes to get oranges for Santana and get the fuck out of here or I'm going to be late to class, so," he trails.
"Of course. We'll talk soon?"
"Yeah. Later, Rach."
*
Anna's Thursday night class is cancelled, so Puck picks her up from her house to take her to this Mexican restaurant they're both sort of obsessed with, a place that makes the best chile rellenos Puck's ever had. Katie, Anna's roommate, is just sitting on the couch in the living room with her boyfriend when Anna lets Puck in. Nothing seems to have changed in the last month or so; there are these huge, waterlogged piles of carpeting out beside the driveway, and Puck spots half a dozen nails on the floor just walking down the hallway to Anna's room.
Katie is a fucking bitch, and Anna needs to just move the fuck out. She just shakes her head when he tells her that, glancing over at him while she clasps a bracelet on her wrist. "You know the deal. As soon as I graduate, I'm going to Cleveland."
Puck just nods and tells her that she's staying with him tonight, leaning back in her desk chair when she starts tossing things into a bag to take to his place. The fact that Anna's moving in a couple of months is probably why he's okay with the whole dating thing. They both know what this is and exactly how long it's going to last, and that's a good thing.
They're both really disappointed when they get to the restaurant and realize that it's closed, a sign propped up in the front window announcing that the owners are taking a week for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. It doesn't even qualify as a substitute, but they go through the Taco Bell drive-thru before heading back to his house.
Puck drops the bag of food when he opens the door and hears Santana moaning Finn's name.
Anna gasps from behind him, because Santana and Finn are right there on the couch - the couch where Puck sits - completely naked and going at it.
He's muttering curses under his breath when he turns around, pushing a laughing Anna back out the door and towards the driveway. He knows that Finn and Santana had a thing that went on a couple of years ago, but it was never a thing and he never had to see it. And sure, he and Finn have shared a locker room, so Puck's seen him naked, and he's seen every bit of Santana, but it's totally different, seeing your two best friends having sex.
He and Anna end up sitting in his car in the parking lot of the bank down the street eating their food, then they go to some bookstore she likes for an hour or so to give Santana and Finn plenty of time to get a fucking room.
He doesn't get a chance to talk to Santana until Saturday afternoon. He's sitting at the table eating cereal when she comes in carrying a Starbucks cup with her hair up and her sunglasses on. "What?" she asks when she notices him looking at her.
"Finn?"
She flops down into the chair across from his with a sigh, pulling off her sunglasses. "It's not a big deal," she insists, rolling her eyes a little. "We're both too busy for it to be a big deal." He looks at her skeptically. "Jesus, what, Puck?"
"What about Rachel?" he asks, because that's all he's been thinking about since he managed to move beyond the shock of Finn's naked ass and Santana moaning. Puck spent so many years listening to both of them - Finn and Rachel - going on about meant to be and destiny and fate and whatever, that he can't help thinking about how she fits into all of this.
"'You're an idiot," Santana says flatly. "They haven't been together for real in years, and the last time they broke up was like, a year and a half ago." She stands up and shoves her chair forward under the table. "Besides, she's in New York fucking Mike Chang. Pretty sure the midget doesn't care that Finn and I are going at it again."
She stalks out of the room, leaving Puck with his second mindfuck of the week. Rachel's fucking Mike Chang? She told him that she ran into Chang and they've been hanging out, but she hasn't mentioned anything about fucking him. It's weird, because the girl tells him about everything, or at least he thought she did. He knows that this Maggie chick is her only rival in their program, and even though she plays it off, Puck knows that she's actually a little worried that this girl is better than she is. (He's pretty sure she isn't.) He knows that her neighbor across the hall travels a lot and has a cat that Rachel sometimes checks on for the guy. Jesus, he knows that Mike's roommates' names are Tadd and Mark because Rachel told him.
But she's fucking Mike Chang and didn't say anything?
He resists the urge to call her and ask what the hell is going on. They have a totally unspoken thing going on where they take turns calling each other, and it's her turn. If he calls her, she's going to know that's something's up, and he doesn't want to make this into a big deal.
(It doesn't even occur to him that Santana might be lying. She's a bitch, but she only lies when she gets something out of it, and this just doesn't fit.)
She calls him on Sunday evening, babbling something about her repetoire class and soy lattes, and he makes it four minutes before he interrupts.
"So, you're fucking Mike Chang?"
Rachel pauses in the middle of the sentence that he talked over (something about Holsteins). "Well, I wouldn't put it that way, since you're vulgar and abrupt, and it isn't any of your business, not really, but yes, Mike and I are sleeping together."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"Because it isn't any of your business," she repeats. She doesn't even know how he found out - Santana, probably - but she can't imagine why he'd care.
"So, what, now you're in love with Chang?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"What--no. What is wrong with you?"
Puck tips his phone away from his mouth and blows out a breath. What the fuck is wrong with him? She's right; it isn't any of his business who she's fucking, and it's not like he's told her everything (anything) about Anna. They don't talk about shit like that. Except he thought that it was just that he didn't talk about it, but Rachel did. "I guess I just thought you'd tell me if you were dating someone or whatever," he finally answers.
Rachel pulls her legs up onto the couch where she's sitting and smiles. "We aren't serious," she says after a moment. "We're friends and...more," she says, struggling a little for the right word to explain it, "but we aren't falling in love or anything dramatic."
He snorts out a laugh. "You mean Rachel Berry is doing something that isn't dramatic?" he asks, sarcastic again, but less mean-sounding this time. "Wonders never cease!"
"Stop it."
*
This year, Rachel is prepared when the day rolls around, the anniversary of Daddy's death. Time does make a difference, even though she thinks about him every day, and sometimes she misses him so much it hurts to breathe. She think that the distance, being in New York instead of Ohio, has made a difference, too. And besides all that, she just doesn't have time for another breakdown. She has a rehearsal for the musical that afternoon, and she's up early to work on a project for her Performing Arts in Western Civilization class.
She calls Dad first thing, partially to get it out of the way, but mostly because she woke up thinking about him. She hasn't been home since Thanksgiving, which is the longest she's ever been away, and she doesn't know when she's going to have another chance to get back since she's taking summer courses and considering getting a job to pad her bank account a little. She misses him more than she can explain, and if she doesn't call him often enough, it's because talking to him actually makes her miss him more.
Rehearsal goes straight through dinner, and while she'd normally be ravenous by the time they finished, she barely notices that she hasn't eaten. She spreads some hummus on a whole wheat tortilla when she gets home, carries it to her bedroom on a paper towel with a glass of cran-apple juice, and crawls into bed after she's wriggled out of her jeans.
She takes exactly one bite before she's reaching for her phone where she left it on her bedside table and scrolling through her contact list for Noah's number.
Puck's fiddling with the numbers in a computer model when his phone rings, and even though he isn't surprised to see Rachel's name on the display, he didn't exactly expect it either. "Hey," he answers quietly, pushing his chair back from his desk a bit.
Of course he remembers what today is. He was with her when it happened, was there for her last year. She lets out a little breath. "I miss everyone today."
Jesus. "Rach."
"It's not like last year," she says quickly. "I went to class and rehearsal and everything. But I miss my dad, and I'll miss Daddy forever, and today I really, really miss you and Santana and Sam and Finn, and I may never have time to come home even for a weekend, and it's just really getting me down."
She's talking really fast, and he can hear that about to cry thing in her voice. It sucks, and he doesn't know what the hell to do about it when he's here and she's there.
She speaks again before he can figure out something to say to her. "I'm just emotional."
"Makes sense," he says neutrally. "But hey, I bet you can convince Santana to come see you this summer. Or maybe I'll come and make you show me around."
"I'd like that."
They talk about nothing for a while, and she feels better after she's hung up, enough better that she finishes her paltry dinner while she watches her favorite episode of The Office on Netflix on her laptop.
(It's the one when Jim and Pam first kiss, because as bittersweet as it is, she likes that they struggled for their relationship as much as she likes them together later on.)
*
Rachel sits on the couch in Mike's loft to watch the Jason Derulo video he danced in when it's uploaded to YouTube, the video streaming to the television the way Mark set it up. Mike is highlighted throughout, and while it's mostly Derulo with three or four guys behind him, there's one bit that's just him and Mike. It's excellent, and Rachel tells him that before they go into his room and lock the door so she can show him just how proud she is.
So it isn't really a surprise when, just a week after the video premieres on MTV, he's asked to be one of the dancers on Derulo's first headlining tour.
"It's like, most of the summer," he tells Rachel when he's sitting up in her bed talking about it. "It's all over the country and in Canada, and apparently they're planning a European tour for next year that, like..." He trails off, looking over at her with wide eyes. "This is the most important job I've ever gotten, Rach."
"I know," she says seriously. She does, and it's adorable, how excited he is. "You deserve it, and I'm so proud of you."
He grins, and this little glimmer comes into his eyes. He moves so he's lying on top of her and kisses her gently. "I really like the way that sounds," he admits against her lips. She goes a little soft inside for him; his parents are proud of him on some level, she knows, but this isn't at all the life they pictured for him. Most of the conversations he has with them are of the 'you should have been an accountant instead of dancing around for attention' variety, and she knows that it bothers him.
Being supported as an artist is important, and Rachel truly believes that Mike is exceptional at what he does. She likes to tell him as often as she can.
Later, when he's sleeping beside her and she's waiting to doze off, it occurs to her that if he's going to be gone for most of the summer, this casual thing they've been doing is probably going to end. He isn't her boyfriend, and she certainly loves him, but she isn't in love with him. It's absurd to think that they could go from not being in a relationship at all to trying to be in a long-distance relationship when he's on tour with some rock star.
It makes her a little sad, but thinking about it doesn't break her heart. She thinks their friendship will survive, and she thinks that's more important than the other stuff anyhow. She decides to just enjoy him while she has him and let what's going to happen, happen.
It's such a far cry from the obsessive girl that she was just five years ago that she falls asleep with a smile on her face.
*
When one of Puck's professors told him about an internship at an architecture firm in New York City, he didn't really think that he had a chance in hell at getting it. It isn't the most prestigious thing ever (though they do exactly the kind of stuff he thinks he wants to do), but that doesn't mean that there aren't a ton of people applying for it, people who have known forever that they wanted to be architects and didn't spend their first two years of college basically fucking around.
He's actually forgotten all about it when he gets the letter in the mail, which makes it kind of an awesome surprise, and at first, he's pretty excited. Except he never seriously considered the chance that he'd get the job, so now he has to figure out where he's going to live for six week in New York City when he's working an unpaid internship.
He knows two people in the city, both of whom he thinks would be willing to deal with his ass for a while without hating him. Rachel (and Facebook) told him about the tour thing Chang's doing, so Puck calls him first. He gets it in his head that he can stay at Mike's place while he's gone and like, pay rent to his roommates or whatever.
"Dude," Mike says before Puck even gets a chance to run down his 'plan.' "If I'd known you were going to be here this summer, I wouldn't have sublet my room and you could've stayed here for free."
Well, fuck.
Chang's already found some guy to live in his room and pay rent while he's gone, and yeah, Mike's a really good friend, but he's also a really good guy, and he isn't going to go back on his word with someone else.
He doesn't exactly want to ask Rachel, partially because he doesn't know if they could actually live together without making one another crazy and ending up hating each other, and partially because sleeping on a couch or an air mattress for six weeks isn't the most appealing idea in the world.
He spends like, hours online, looking at place that people are subletting and trying to figure out where they are in the city in relation to the firm he's going to be working at and whether or not he can even afford this shit with what he's got in his bank account now. Real estate in this city is fucking ridiculous. Like, staying in a shitty little studio (which is fine) for six weeks is going to cost more than double what he and Santana pay each month for their two-bedroom house with a garage and a yard. He already knows that Santana's going to have to cover their rent for the summer while he's gone (they talked about it, and even though she bitched for a good twenty minutes about how it's going to cut into her disposable income, he knows that spending her dad's money is a non-issue), but he's kind of hoping to be able to actually pay rent when he gets back to Columbus, and that isn't going to be possible if he stays at any of these places.
Plus, the one that's sort of in his price range looks like it's in the shittiest neighborhood in ever, and his mom will lose her fucking mind if she finds out he's staying here. He likes to not worry her half to death, especially since he spent a good portion of high school doing just that.
It's really fucking annoying that when he finally decides to give up and call Rachel to talk to her about maybe crashing on her couch (fuck) for six weeks (fuck), he gets her goddamn voice mail.
It's almost eleven that night when she calls him back, and she sounds tired when he answers.
"The show opens in three days," she explains when he mentions it. "Rehearsals are a little intense right now. But how are you?"
"I got an internship in New York this summer," he says instead of answering her question. Or maybe that is the answer to her question.
"Noah, that's amazing!" she exclaims. She finishes unlocking her door and pushes her way into her apartment, dropping her things just inside the door. She's really, really tired, and the thought of dragging them even a little further is not appealing. All that appeals, really, is going into her room and falling into bed. "When are you going to be here?"
"It's six weeks, from the end of June to the beginning of August at a firm that specializes in designing like, mansions and shit for people out in the Hamptons or wherever," he answers, heading off her next question. He knows her, okay? "I kind of don't have anywhere to live though."
"You'll stay with me," she says simply, and he kind of loves Rachel for shit like that. Just saying that he'll stay with her without even pausing to think about it, like it isn't even a question. It's just a given that he's going to stay with her if he doesn't have anywhere else to stay, at least in her head.
"Thanks, Rach."
"Of course." She isn't going to let him turn down this opportunity over housing - which she knows he would do - and even if she doesn't love the idea of living with anyone else right now, given that she never has, she can adjust. It's only a few weeks. And frankly, she's so tired right now that she'd possibly agree to anything. "Noah, I really, really want to hear all about this, but I'm practically asleep on my feet," she tells him neutrally. "Can we talk about this in two weeks when the musical is over?"
He doesn't really have that many details yet anyhow, so he just says, "Yeah. Get some sleep."
She lets out a little hum. "Good night, Noah."
*
Puck spends the last couple of weeks of school studying his ass off and having loud, obnoxious sex with Anna at her house to piss off her roommate as much as they can before she moves out after finals.
It's equal parts fucking awesome and fucking bullshit, but whatever.
And look, he likes Anna, but he doesn't think he's going to miss her once she moves to Cleveland, and he knows the feeling is mutual. It's actually kind of nice to have this thing ending so easily, especially after the way things ended with Mia, who started out the same way Anna did.
The night before graduation - which is also the night before she's moving - she calls Puck and asks him to come over to her house. He's sort of confused, because she just spent the two days after finals moving all of her shit out of there, driving back and forth between Columbus and her new place in Cleveland. Like, she has nothing in the house to speak of, and she's staying with Puck tonight because her bed is gone and she doesn't want to stay with any of her friends.
She drags him into the kitchen and shoves him up against the fridge, knocking a bunch of magnets and shit onto the floor when she kisses him. And, you know, awesome.
He knows her roommate is in the house when he fucks Anna on the kitchen table, which is exactly the point, so Puck makes sure that she comes twice - loudly - before he lets go, then watches her with a smirk when she pulls her house keys off her keychain and leaves them in the middle of the table.
He's never been closer to actually loving the girl than he is in that moment.
*
Rachel and Mike don't really break up, but that's because they aren't exactly dating. He's easily her best friend in the city, but things between them have been very, very casual, and there isn't any way to sustain that when he's going to be gone for however long on this tour that just keeps having dates added to it.
He comes over to her place the night before he heads to Atlanta to start rehearsals, carrying with him a couple of boxes of things that he doesn't want to leave at the loft while he's gone, including his XBox and a bunch of games, which he's mostly bringing for Noah's benefit. They order Thai food and watch Crazy, Stupid Love while they eat even though they've both seen it.
He takes her hand and weaves their fingers together after she's turned off the television, tugging her up off the couch and into her bedroom. He peels her clothes off and takes care of her, and it's incredible. There aren't any declarations of love and neither of them admits that they'll miss the other; they don't need to say it, because they both know, and they don't have that sort of relationship anyhow.
The next morning, when he leaves to head to the airport, she hugs him goodbye at the door and insists that he call her if he meets anyone interesting and famous. It's vague, yes, but he knows her, so he just laughs and kisses her forehead when he promises that he will.
*
Rachel calls him to confirm his flight's arrival time and the gate and all that, which surprises Puck not at all, even though he emailed all of it to her already.
"I'm excited for you to get here," she admits when he teases her about it on the phone the night before. "I haven't seen you in forever."
She's almost right. Thanksgiving does feel like it was forever ago. "Hey, you better not have watched the Godfather movies already," he tells her since he's thinking about it. "You can't do that shit without me."
She doesn't confirm or deny, just laughs and tells him that she'll see him tomorrow afternoon at the airport.
(Of course she hasn't watched them without him.)
She's waiting for him when he gets off the plane, looking down at her phone and standing there in a little pair of denim shorts and a loose, low-cut black and white striped tank top with skinny straps. She looks up when he's walking towards her, smiling brightly and closing the space between them to hug him. "You're here!"
"Your hair is really long," he says, because it is. There are layers and stuff, and she still has bangs, but it's practically waist-length and totally straight. It looks good, just like the rest of her. She feels good, too, pressed up against him with her hands clutching at the back of his tee shirt just a tiny bit.
"I like it like this." She shrugs one shoulder, running her fingers over the strands. "So, what do you want to do first?" she asks, turning to lead him towards the baggage claim. She knows that Noah has only been to the city once, back in high school, and there were so many things they didn't get to see then, things she knows he'll love.
And yes, she already has some things planned, regardless of what Noah says he wants to see. He's here for six weeks, so they'll have plenty of time to fit everything in.
Truth? He kind of just wants to hang out with Rachel and let her get started on whatever giant list of things to do she has for him tomorrow. (Yeah, he knows her.) She smiles when he tells her that. "There's a great pizza place that delivers to my building. And yes," she says before he can interrupt, "it's real pizza with real cheese, even if I won't eat that part."
They spend that first night just hanging out, eating pizza and drinking beer on her couch while they talk and half-watch a Criminal Minds marathon, catching up on all the things they didn't talk about during the semester.
Rachel's couch is a sofabed, so she helps him move her coffee table over against the wall and folds it out when she catches him yawning. She's made the thing up with plain white sheets, and she pulls a plain yellow comforter out of the linen closet. "It's the least feminine bedding I own," she apologizes when she hands it over.
Puck doesn't give a fuck what he sleeps on, to be honest, especially since she's letting him take over his living room for the entire fucking summer. "I don't care," he tells her, spreading the thing out on what he's already thinking of as his bed. She's smiling when she hands him a pair of pillows in white cases. "Really."
She offers him a tiny little smile. She finds it hard to believe that a self-proclaimed badass doesn't mind sleeping with a yellow comforter. "Good night, Noah."
The sheets are soft and smell like fabric softener, and even though it's kind of loud here in her apartment with the sounds of traffic from the street, he's tired enough that it doesn't take him long to fall asleep.
*
It's an adjustment, living with someone else, particularly since Noah is sleeping in what would be shared space even if she had a roommate. And now not only is she sharing a bathroom, but she's sharing with a boy.
She knows that this is Noah on his best behavior. He's keeping all of his things very tidy, and he folds up the sofa every morning before he leaves for his job, tucking the comforter and pillows back into the linen closet to keep things neat. He doesn't leave his clothes lying anywhere, and he always hangs up his wet towels. She figures that sharing a bathroom with Santana for two years has kept him from being too disgusting in there.
God, she hopes he isn't doing anything disgusting in her bathroom.
*
Puck kind of thinks that interships are just a big scheme for companies to get college kids to come and do the bullshit they don't want to do, like filing and going on coffee runs, and that's really what he's expecting. He's hoping that maybe there'll be someone who doesn't totally suck who'll at least like, engage in a conversation about what she does, because this firm does exactly the kind of thing Puck would like to do someday, but he's not holding his breath. And it turns out that it is a lot of the run-around bullshit, but he thinks some of these people give a shit about helping the interns (there are five of them) actually learn something this summer.
Rachel starts getting up about the same time he does after just a few days even though he knows that she doesn't have to be anywhere for a couple of hours after he leaves. (The girl has her schedule - and his - up on the fridge. He knows when she has to be places.) The thing is, Puck doesn't really talk in the morning, and he never has. Most of the time, the first time he speaks at all on a given day is when he gets to wherever he has to go, be it school or whatever else. His mom and Abby knew that, obviously, and it never really came up when he was sharing a dorm room with Sam since the guy took earlier classes than Puck. Santana's a fucking bitch in the mornings, so he wouldn't talk to her even if he was one of those people who likes chatting over coffee or what the fuck ever. He doesn't have to say anything to Rachel either. It's like she just gets that he isn't going to want to talk before he leaves for work.
It doesn't suck though, getting out of the shower and walking into the kitchen to find that she's made a pot of coffee even though she doesn't always drink it. It's really nice, actually. He asks her why she's up after about three days.
She smiles a little over her mug of Lady Grey. "I'm not used to living with someone else," she says simply, which isn't really an answer.
Noah's stirring sugar into his coffee when it finally clicks. "I wake you up?" She smiles again. "Fuck, Rach, I'm sorry."
"You aren't loud, I'm just used to being alone."
It doesn't matter what she says, now he feels like an asshole for waking her up and then not really talking to her before he leaves.
Rachel can tell that he's trying to be quieter the next morning, which is silly. He isn't doing anything wrong or being inconsiderate. It's the sound of water running in the shower that wakes her up, and he can't stop bathing. Her dads' bathroom was too far away from her bedroom to hear at home, and she's been living alone for three years. It's the sort of thing that she'll probably get used to sooner or later, and besides that, it's easier living with Noah like this when they're on the same schedule. She tells him that when he slinks into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee after he's gotten dressed, and the way he nods lets her know that he still doesn't believe it.