From The Ashes (We Rise) - NC17 - Puck/Rachel - OneShot (2/2)
Title: From the Ashes (We Rise)
Song: My Skin - Natalie Merchant
Category: Glee
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Puck/Rachel
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: Picture - layinthefire
For: layinthefire (this totally ballooned out of control from the original porny prompt, lol)
Word Count: 12,450
Summary: One neighbor, a stick of incense, seven cats in a small apartment, and suddenly Rachel Berry is homeless. But fate steps in at just the right time and before she knows it, she's reunited with Noah Puckerman. Second chances have never looked so good.
[Return to: First Half.]
Falling asleep was easier than she expected, especially considering the boy next to her was incredibly handsome and half-naked. But before she knew it, she'd nodded off. Her sleep was peaceful, avoiding the horrors of fire and the destruction it brought. Instead she dreamt of a different kind of warmth. Of arms wrapped around her and smooth lips kissing down her neck. Of a familiar chuckle at her ear and calloused fingers dragging against her skin, brushing hair from her face. Fractions of images, of faces and limbs and bodies, all of the same person, flashed in her head. Briefly, she thought she woke up in the middle of the night and found herself tangled with Noah's body. But she fell back asleep so very quickly that when she was woke she wasn't sure she hadn't dreamt it. The bed was empty save for herself, Noah's side long cold.
She wondered if maybe he'd left for work and finally climbed from his bed, stretching her arms above her head and rising up on to the tips of her toes. She combed her fingers through her hair to get out the knots and wandered into the kitchen to see if he was still there or if he'd left a note saying where he'd gone. She found the apartment empty and a scrap of paper on the counter that read simply, "Be back soon."
Since she didn't know when he wrote it and hadn't managed to get a cell phone number off of him in the chaos of last night, she wandered around the apartment for a few minutes. He'd brought the laundry down to be washed, she knew, because the basket was gone. After making herself breakfast and perusing the television, she finally decided to call her parents and her agent. Her dads were worried, despite the fact that she'd told them she was fine. She reassured them she'd found a place to stay for the time being and that when Kurt returned from his honeymoon with Blaine, she would be staying with them until she found a new apartment. Her agent, Jenna, promised to get new scripts for her, but she would have to bide her time for a day or two until she was able to contact everybody and have them sent over.
She'd just hung up when the door swung open and Noah walked in. Wearing jeans and a casual plaid button-down, he looked a lot more like the boy she remembered than the fearless firefighter she'd reunited with. In his arms was a box; he balanced it on his hip as he closed the door and swung his keys around his forefinger before tucking them in his pocket. He nodded hello before circling the couch to drop the box on the coffee table. "Move over."
She scooted over to the next cushion and furrowed her brows as he sat next to her.
"So it's not much, but…" He flipped the top open and tipped it over for her to see. "Your place was pretty much screwed. But there were a few things in your closet and your dresser that were still good. Mostly clothes, obviously. But there was a shoebox of pictures or whatever, and I found some shoes, so…"
She stared in shock. Dresses and a few blouses and skirts and a pair of her favorite dress pants were folded sloppily inside. The shoebox had pictures of her with friends and cast members and some of her playbills from when she first started out. When she picked up a shirt, thumb rubbing the soft as down fabric, something fell loose, and Noah reached out and caught it instinctively. In his hand was her Star of David necklace, gold and shiny, hanging on a delicate chain.
He shrugged. "Saw it on the floor when I was grabbing stuff. Figured you'd want it."
She smiled, reaching over to pluck it from his open palm. "I do." Looking up at him, she shook her head slightly. "I can't thank you enough, Noah."
"It's cool," he said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "You were pretty raw about losing all your stuff, thought I'd see what I could salvage."
She put her hand on his knee. "I really appreciate it."
He stared at her hand a second before nodding. "Sure."
Reaching for the box, she said, "I'm going to change."
He jerked his head in recognition and she stood from the couch. She put the box in his room, picking out a blue dress and some underwear before taking it to the shower with her. Refreshed and feeling good about being back in her own clothes, she stepped out of the bathroom with a brighter outlook. Yes, she'd lost her apartment, but she'd also regained Noah in her life, and that was a much better thing to focus on. She would start looking for an apartment to rent and contact the insurance company and everything would come together the way it was meant to.
Noah was still sitting on the couch when she returned. "Do you have anything you need to do today?" she asked him. "I wouldn't want to be a bother."
"Nah, no, I'm free." He shook his head.
"Great." She smiled. "Then maybe you have time to play for me like I asked last night."
He snorted. "Still on that, huh?"
"You know me, music has always and will always be number one with me." Taking a seat on the armchair, she rested her elbows on her knees. "So? Let's see if you've gotten rusty, Puckerman," she teased, narrowing her eyes playfully.
"You're on, Berry." Climbing from the couch, he crossed to his stereo, where she hadn't noticed the guitar case leaning before. He took his guitar from it with the same reverence as he'd had when he was younger. Retaking his seat on the couch, he balanced it on his lap, leaning back against his chest, and his arms came around it like he was cradling a lover. "Any preferences?" he asked, fingers moving and plucking smoothly, not finding any particular beat.
"Hm…" She turned her mouth to one side in thought. "You can't go wrong with a classic… Sweet Caroline?"
He grinned and his fingers moved comfortably over the strings, like he could play it in his sleep if he wanted. His voice was deeper, smoother than she remembered, and the lyrics came so very easy to him.
Where it began,
I can't begin to knowing,
But then I know it's growing strong,
Was in the spring,
And spring became the summer,
Who'd believe you'd come along…
She swayed side to side just like she did when they were dating and he'd been trying to prove he was leading man material, that he was worth her. She regretted suddenly that she'd ever let him believe different.
As the song faded away, he was grinning.
She stared at him, her brows furrowed. "I was lucky to date you," she blurted.
He looked over at her, brow arched. "Okay…?"
"No, I…" She sighed. "I'm not sure I ever expressed that to you, but… And I know it was awful of me, to break up with you because I still had feelings with Finn."
He shrugged. "Better than staying with me and still having feelings for him."
"I only meant that…" She stared at him firmly. "You deserved to be someone's first choice." She shook her head. "And at the time, you weren't for me. You deserved better than that. Better than what I could give you."
He licked his lips. "We were kids…"
"Yeah." She smiled lightly. "Misguided, confused, desperately wrong kids."
He played with his guitar a few minutes longer, starting one song and fading into another, and she could tell, by the look on his face, that they were his. That he'd written these beautiful lyrics and the notes that went with them.
She watched from her perch on the chair, how fluidly his longer fingers moved. Sometimes he just closed his eyes and let them wander. And his head would tip, as if he was listening extra hard to every single string as they sang for him. Something relaxed in his face, a sort of peacefulness coming over him. It made him even more handsome, if that was possible. And she wondered how many people had seen him this way, this undeniably involved with his music. Connected and sincerely invested in every sound, every move of his fingers, every beat. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.
"You said 'at the time,'" he murmured, breaking the silence.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. "I'm sorry?"
"You said I wasn't your first choice 'at the time…'" He opened one eye to look at her.
Her eyes widened. "Oh. Well… I…"
He half-smiled. "You ever wonder, Rachel? What would've happened if we didn't break up."
"Yes…" Her eyes fell. "Although I imagine finding out you were the father of Quinn's baby would've been much harder to take if we'd still been dating."
"Yeah…" His other eye opened and they fell to his guitar once more. "I bet you'd have stuck with me though… You were pretty dedicated to whoever you were dating."
She frowned. "I think we've established that didn't work out well in my favor."
"It's okay to be passionate," he told her, sitting forward and moving his guitar back to its case. "You just gotta know when to cut your losses and step back."
"I've learned that," she agreed. "If I hadn't, I'd be married to Finn and living in Lima still."
He grimaced. "Thank God you're not."
"Well, I wouldn't have been in a fire if I was," she mused.
He rolled his eyes. "Don't get your hopes up, Hudson's pretty accident prone. Fire's inevitable."
She laughed, shaking her head at him.
When he leaned back in his seat, he shrugged. "So let's say we made it through the Quinn and Beth drama… Let's say you stuck by me."
"And then you went to juvie."
"Yeah, but if I'd had a good girl on my arm, maybe I wouldn't've pulled that stunt," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.
"It wasn't a matter of who you were dating or who might temper your mischief," she told him, shaking her head. "You were upset and lost. You had a daughter out in the world that you thought you'd never see again… It was awful; that it was expressed the way it was and that you were put into juvenile hall, but… it wasn't surprising after all you'd been through."
He frowned. "You're starting to sound like my shrink."
"Well, he's helped you quite a bit apparently, so I'll take that as a compliment."
"So you've stuck by me through the juvie thing, too?" he wondered.
"If we were still dating… and had been that entire time, then, yes, I probably would have." She nodded. "You would've needed support when you left and I probably would've suggested counseling."
He hummed thoughtfully. "Ya think… We'd have made it, like, all the way?"
Her brows furrowed. "Is that a sexual reference?"
He snorted. "No… But you could answer it like it was."
She rolled her eyes. "Do I think we could've stayed together through the whole of high school? If I'd let go of Finn and let myself fall in love with you… If you'd been able to curb you insatiable promiscuity and loved me in return… If we had weathered baby drama and juvie… Then yes. Yes, I think we would have."
He stared at her, brow raised. "But…?"
"There is no but." She shook her head. "After graduation, we would've wound up here, just like we are. If being a firefighter really is your calling, then you would have found a way to become one in this alternate universe of ours, too…" She nodded. "Maybe if we had stayed together, things wouldn't have been so up and down…" She shrugged. "But I suppose that's the best-case scenario. Being if I got over Finn and you stayed faithful."
"I wouldn't have cheated on you," he said seriously.
She smiled at him. "That's kind of you to say, Noah, but you can't know for sure. We were younger, different then."
"All I ever wanted was to be loved… Just one person." He shrugged. "If you were that person, I never would've hurt you."
Rachel's eyes widened, mouth parting. "Noah…"
He scoffed, shrugging. "Alternate universe though, right? Where a girl like you could've loved a guy like me."
"You underestimate yourself," she told him. "I've said it before, I was too wrapped up in Finn. But I was young and stubborn and I think sometimes I was more in love with the idea of Finn than Finn himself… The truth is, if I look back on it, you were always there, in the background, doing more for me than he ever did right at my side…" Shaking her head, she smiled sadly and said in a whisper-soft voice, "Like I said, I was lucky to date you, Noah… And possibly very stupid to let you go."
The way he was staring at her was intense. Almost too much so. Her legs felt wobbly as she stood, an overload of information and what-ifs swirling in her mind. She started toward the kitchen, asking him, "Are you hungry? I could make you something. After going through the rubble of my apartment, you probably worked up an appetite."
A hand at her back had her pausing. Her brow knotted at the pressure, at the feel of his fingers skimming slowly, warm through the thin fabric of her dress.
"I know a vegan recipe for making pancakes from scratch," she said breathlessly.
His fingers dragged up and slid around to her hip.
"I-I think I saw fruit in your crisper. I could cut some up, make a salad."
He stepped in close, body flattening at her back, and she felt his warm breath on her neck.
"Maybe you'd prefer to go out?"
"I'm good with staying in," he said, his voice low, deep.
Rachel felt her legs tremble, her heart pounding hard in her chest and echoing in her ears.
She felt his fingers moving at her hips, sliding up higher, just a little bit at a time before skimming back down, and then up, up, up, his thumb rubbing circles.
"We're not the same people we were."
She shook her head, swallowing thickly. "No, we aren't."
He moved her hair, slipping it over one shoulder to hang down her front. "You're not in love with Finn anymore."
"I haven't been for a very long time."
She felt his nose lightly graze her neck. "You've got your dream life ahead of you and there's nothing anybody can do to derail that."
"A-Absolutely."
"I'm not a fuck-up anymore…" His hands moved up her back, spread across her shoulder blades, and then slid down until they hit the small of her back before circling around her hips once more. "I don't screw everything that walks. I've got issues still, but I'm working on 'em. I've got a good job that I love."
"You…" She shook her head. "You weren't a… screw-up before, Noah," she told him earnestly. "You were just misguided and unfortunately, nobody stepped up to help you when you needed it most."
His forehead pressed against her hair and she felt his breath down the nape of her neck. "Story of my life. 'Til Coach Beiste, anyway."
She turned then, to face him properly, but didn't step out of his close proximity. "Daddy says that everything that happens in our lives shapes us, good or bad." Her hands found his chest, thumb flicking the button of a pocket absently. "Maybe you wouldn't be such an amazing singer, composer, or firefighter, if it wasn't for the suffering in your life."
He frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe." He tugged on her hair. "And maybe our time wasn't in high school… Maybe it's now."
She stared up at him. "No alternate universe, just poor timing?"
He half-smirked. "Yeah."
"I'm still an admittedly high maintenance woman," she warned.
He grinned. "Wouldn't expect anything less."
"I'm also currently homeless."
He snorted. "I'm sure you have a good reason."
"Very good… There was a fire, not of my doing. But it's okay, because I happened to meet this very handsome, very charming fireman."
"Yeah?" He quirked a brow. "Then what happened?"
Her lips curled at the corners. "You tell me."
Noah's eyes fell to her mouth and that look, so familiar, both from high school and recently, returned. This time, she didn't have to worry about Jesse and he didn't end the moment and change the subject. This time, when he learned in, she met him. Noah's kiss was familiar; she remembered it quite vividly. Rolling across her bed, his body, heavy and warm, on top of hers and between her legs. His hands skimming, reaching, always looking for more, exploring. While his mouth, his tongue and teeth, were constantly moving, meeting hers, pushing and pulling, taking and giving. There was a palpable heat then just as there was now. Only she didn't stop his hands from moving from her hips and up, skimming over her ribs and rising ever-higher until they were cupping her breasts, thumbs rubbing, pressing against the hard points of her nipples encased in blue fabric.
Mouths slanted, breaths taken deep and desperate in between each stroke of his tongue and the close of his mouth around hers, taking her top lip between his. He backed her up, her feet stumbling slightly. His arms wrapped back around her to keep her steady, fingers gripping her dress, pressing into her back. Until finally they were at the table. He hauled her up until she sat on the edge, her dress pulling up at her thighs. He stood between the part of her legs, close enough that he could grind into her, rubbing at the apex of her thighs, the hard bulge beneath his jeans pressing so close and yet not close enough. He leaned into her, one of his hands cradling the back of her neck, her head tipped, his mouth meeting hers with a desperate passion that made her insides warm, her stomach twist, her legs shake. His fingers dragged down her body, from her shoulders to her waist and then back and around to her front, where his hips were rolling, still rubbing and pressing against her. He fingered the edge of her collar before he brought his hands down, fingers spread, skimming over her breasts and down over her stomach and lower still to the ends of her dress. She wanted him to open it, to undo every button from the top of her dress to the bottom, to part the fabric and press those long, callused fingers against her skin. She wanted to feel his fingertips close around her tipple, his rough palm scraping against the underside of her breast. And his mouth; she wanted it everywhere.
"God, I've wanted this," he muttered, pulling away from her mouth only to bury his face in her neck.
She squeaked, gripping his shoulders, furling his shirt up in his fingers, when his teeth scraped and his tongue soothed.
"So long, so fucking long…" His hands were on her knees and moving up, and yes, God yes, she loved the feel of his skin on hers. Rough and warm and heavy as his fingers reached between the cover of her dress and danced over the tops of her thighs. They slid along the sides, drawing circles, dragging his fingers up the length to her knee before sliding all the way back until he was just centimeters away from where she could feel she was wet, soaking through her panties.
"Noah," she whined. "Touch me."
He paused momentarily, and when she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, like he wasn't sure he'd heard her right.
She took his hand and guided it in close, until his knuckles were pressed against where her underwear was sticking to her, her clit throbbing beneath the fabric. "Touch me," she told him.
His mouth crashed against hers almost painfully as he leaned her back, his hands sliding up the outside of her thighs and gripping either side of her panties. He slid them down from the curves of her ass so swift and easy that she didn't even have time to try and lift herself. Her dress bunched in her lap as her legs lifted in the air at the jerking motion. She felt her underwear give and he had them down her thighs, caught on her knees, forcing him to step back enough to take them down the rest of her legs before throwing them away.
"Lean back," he told her.
She fell back on her elbows, still lifted enough to see him.
He parted her legs further and she drew her knees up, balancing her heels on the very edge of the table. His hands slid down her thighs once more, almost too slowly for her to take. He seemed to know it too, seeing as he was smirking at her while she was biting hard at her lip, feeling the shake in her thighs. He let out a small, thick chuckle. Before she could chastise him, his fingers were on her, parting her, skimming against the wet heat of her folds. When he licked his lips, she knew it was only going to get better. Rachel had never watched a boy go down on her. In fact, she'd only experienced it a handful of times. Finn was the clumsiest and she had decided shortly after that it wasn't something she needed in her life. Later, however, in NYADA and after, she'd realized it could be much more pleasurable when a boy knew what he was doing. The way Noah was looking at her made her think she was going to be further surprised by just how good it could be.
Noah took her words to heart, touching her slowly, even reverently. He massaged all around, every so often letting the corner of his thumb glide against her clit. He slid first one finger inside her and curled it back toward himself, when a second joined and did the same, she felt him rub against something inside her, something that made her toes curl and her breath catch. She'd heard of the G-spot, she'd just never known where it was or how to find it. Apparently Noah did. His fingers moved slowly, sinking into her deep and separating slowly, at random, before curling and rubbing that spot again and again, only to stop as soon as she felt it building. His free hand covered her stomach, holding her down as he slid his fingers out and circled her entrance, teetering on the edge, teasing her.
As her breath evened out, he reached up and started unbuttoning her dress, parting it, letting his knuckled drag against her skin. For the first time since he'd returned some of her things to her, she thought maybe having no bras wasn't a bad thing. Noah's hand covered one breast, and she got her wish of having him cover and pluck her nipple, thrumming it as the fingers of his other hand thrust back inside her. She arched up, neck strained as her head fell back. He slid his hand from her chest and continued unbuttoning her dress until it was completely open, and spread it so it lay on either side of her. She squirmed, moving her hips side to side. Wanting him to move deeper, harder, to rub that spot and touch her clit.
"Impatient," he told her. "You know how long I had to wait for this? I'm not wasting it, Rach…"
"Noah, Noah, please…" She cupped her own breasts, thumbs rubbing, pressing against her aching nipples.
"You're so wet, Rachel… So tight and hot and wet." He curled his fingers.
She let out an unintelligible noise and squeezed around him.
She felt him move then and looked to see his head had ducked and his face was much closer now. As he drew his fingers out, he wiped them on her thigh briefly before he was holding her open. His eyes met hers as his tongue flattened against her, dragging from end to end, flicking as it met her clit. His eyes closed briefly. "So good… So sweet…" Another lick, slow and savoring, and she swore she could feel every one of his taste buds rasping against her. While his mouth moved, suckling and kissing, tongue swirling and licking, his finger slid inside her once more, just enough to stimulate and never enough to fully satisfy.
Rachel reached down, one of her hands falling to his head, wishing the 'hawk was there if only for something to grab onto. She cried out when his teeth grazed her clit. "More, more, more," she murmured deliriously.
But Noah liked how she squirmed and panted and tried to press herself into his mouth and his probing tongue. It wasn't until she was sure he'd never let her climax that he finally started suckling her clit in earnest, his fingers filling and curling and rubbing that spot just right. And then she was crying out, slapping her hands against the table as she came. When she fell back to the table, her whole body was vibrating and she wasn't sure she had control of her legs any longer. Tiny shockwaves kept zinging through her, making everything pulse and shiver.
And then her eyes found him, his mouth glistening, his hands stroking her hips while his head rested on her thigh. He was still watching her come down, and licked his lips clean when he realized she was staring back.
She pushed herself up letting her feet drift off the table, and tugged on his ears to get him to stand up properly. She reached for his shirt first, unbuttoning it from the bottom up. He shrugged it off his shoulders and let it fall away before stripping off the wife-beater he had on beneath. One of her hands reached for his belt to deftly undo it, while the other spread across his stomach, fingers dipping in the lines of his abdomen, hard and rippling with each heavy breath he took.
Buckle, zipper, and button undone, he shoved his jeans, thumbs hooked in his underwear, to the ground. Rachel's teeth found her lower lip as she took him in, long and hard, twitching before her eyes. Her hand wrapped around him, the skin of his cock soft and warm. She barely paused before her mouth was wrapped around the tip, her tongue flicking, tasting the pre-cum that beaded at the slit. He muffled a groan, one of his hands burying in her hair. She sucked on him, her tongue circling, before sliding him further into her mouth. The angle didn't leave her much room though and she decided she would have to show him the wonders of her lack of gag reflex later, preferably in an actual bed, where she had the freedom of moving around more and not having to climb off the table, knees digging into the linoleum.
When she sat back up, she licked her lips and tugged him closer by the hips.
His mouth slanted across hers and she tasted herself on his tongue. She hummed and slid her fingers up his sides, digging in. He was so solid, so broad and hard and warm. She breathed his name into his mouth and his kiss gentled. His hands cupped her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks. And she thought of what he'd said, about only ever wanting somebody to love him. And maybe she didn't yet, maybe it took more than just a crash reunion and a whole lot of chemistry, but she did know that she could. She could love this man; this amazing, wonderful, heroic man. And she wanted to. One day. She wanted to explore this far past just the kitchen tale or the bedroom. She wanted to explore what it would be like to be with him, fully and completely, without the added weight of Finn Hudson or Quinn Fabray or anything except just the two of them.
He had to stop to grab the condom from his wallet, but she couldn't say she cared when he was finally sinking into her seconds later. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, her knees hitching high on his hips. Rachel could count on one hand how many men she'd been with. Noah was the first one that she was sure filled her entirely. He was also the first one who knew, without a doubt, what he was doing. He went from slow, swirling hips, and shallow thrusts to quick, deep, and hard in a matter of seconds, changing it up whenever she got used to it. His hand slid between them to tease her clit as he moved. He bent her back so he could press open-mouthed kisses over her chest, taking her nipples between his teeth and lips, tongue lapping.
A sheen of sweat collected on their skin and they moved almost sloppily against each other, chests rubbing as he sunk into her, his hands smoothing over her back, holding her steady, nearly off the table she was gathered so close, the angle making sure his cock rubbed against her clit each time he moved. She bit at his chest, sinking her teeth when she was so close her toes curled and her nails dug into his shoulders. But he slowed down and sucked her neck, creating what she was sure would be one of his infamous hickeys.
It wasn't until she was rolled over onto her stomach and his hands drew her hips back as he slid into her from behind, bent over her, mouth moving down her back, that they finally found relief. He pistoned in and out of her without pause, fingers rubbing her clit quick and hard, until she came once and then again, almost back to back, her eyes closed, fingers clawing at the table, crying his name over and over. And when he twitched inside her, her walls clenching and gripping him, she leaned back, pressing into him as he panted her name against her skin, bottoming out inside her and riding the waves of his climax.
They laid like that for awhile, trying to catch their breath and waiting for their bodies to stop shaking. Until finally, he drew her boneless body up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom. He passed her a wet rag while he disposed of the condom and grabbed a cloth of his own to clean up with. He didn't say anything when she borrowed his brush to fix her hair and tie it up in a knot, out of the way. Instead he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and a few more against her neck. When she was done, she hopped down, and his arms slid back around her as they walked toward his bedroom.
She was tired and everything was still buzzing and the cool sheets of his bed felt fantastic against her skin. He kicked the blanket down and away and pulled her against his side. With her head resting on his shoulder and her leg curved around his, she spread a hand over his chest and lazily drew shapes.
"I hope you don't do this with every girl who loses an apartment to a fire," she muttered.
He snorted. "Only the cute ones I had the hots for in high school."
She scoffed, turning her eyes up to him. "Wouldn't that list be kind of long?"
He shrugged. "Fine, only the hot, crazy, Broadway actresses that I didn't think I was good enough for in high school."
"Noah…" She shook her head. "You seem to forget that I made a lot of mistakes in high school too… I wasn't perfect. Far from it!" Her brows hiked. "There's a reason we're together now and not then. We've both grown up and we don't have those same problems or anchors as before…" She patted his chest. "Meaning when I fall in love with you, it'll be without restraint. And you won't have to second guess my feelings. Just like I won't be worried about whether or not you still love Quinn or Santana or you'll leave me for them or cheat on me." She smiled. "We're going to do this right. We're going to build a relationship with trust and honesty."
"And hot monkey sex."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, and an extremely satisfying sex life."
"Score."
She snorted.
Grinning, he leaned down and kissed her. "'m glad I found you again," he said as he pressed her back into the bed.
Rachel's fingers danced over his temple and down his face. "Me too."
Later, as she laid listening to Noah's steady heartbeat, feeling his fingers rub circles in her skin, she pondered their good fortune.
Maybe it was a fluke that one of old Miss. Brennan's cats knocked her incense down, a coincidence that Noah was working that night and happened to recognize her in the crowd, or maybe it was serendipity or fate stepping in to put them on the right track. All she knew for sure was that a new life had begun from the ashes of her old one, and it would be rebuilt with a better, stronger foundation with Noah at her side. And nothing, not even fire, would touch it.
[End.]
Song: My Skin - Natalie Merchant
Category: Glee
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Puck/Rachel
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: Picture - layinthefire
For: layinthefire (this totally ballooned out of control from the original porny prompt, lol)
Word Count: 12,450
Summary: One neighbor, a stick of incense, seven cats in a small apartment, and suddenly Rachel Berry is homeless. But fate steps in at just the right time and before she knows it, she's reunited with Noah Puckerman. Second chances have never looked so good.
[Return to: First Half.]
Falling asleep was easier than she expected, especially considering the boy next to her was incredibly handsome and half-naked. But before she knew it, she'd nodded off. Her sleep was peaceful, avoiding the horrors of fire and the destruction it brought. Instead she dreamt of a different kind of warmth. Of arms wrapped around her and smooth lips kissing down her neck. Of a familiar chuckle at her ear and calloused fingers dragging against her skin, brushing hair from her face. Fractions of images, of faces and limbs and bodies, all of the same person, flashed in her head. Briefly, she thought she woke up in the middle of the night and found herself tangled with Noah's body. But she fell back asleep so very quickly that when she was woke she wasn't sure she hadn't dreamt it. The bed was empty save for herself, Noah's side long cold.
She wondered if maybe he'd left for work and finally climbed from his bed, stretching her arms above her head and rising up on to the tips of her toes. She combed her fingers through her hair to get out the knots and wandered into the kitchen to see if he was still there or if he'd left a note saying where he'd gone. She found the apartment empty and a scrap of paper on the counter that read simply, "Be back soon."
Since she didn't know when he wrote it and hadn't managed to get a cell phone number off of him in the chaos of last night, she wandered around the apartment for a few minutes. He'd brought the laundry down to be washed, she knew, because the basket was gone. After making herself breakfast and perusing the television, she finally decided to call her parents and her agent. Her dads were worried, despite the fact that she'd told them she was fine. She reassured them she'd found a place to stay for the time being and that when Kurt returned from his honeymoon with Blaine, she would be staying with them until she found a new apartment. Her agent, Jenna, promised to get new scripts for her, but she would have to bide her time for a day or two until she was able to contact everybody and have them sent over.
She'd just hung up when the door swung open and Noah walked in. Wearing jeans and a casual plaid button-down, he looked a lot more like the boy she remembered than the fearless firefighter she'd reunited with. In his arms was a box; he balanced it on his hip as he closed the door and swung his keys around his forefinger before tucking them in his pocket. He nodded hello before circling the couch to drop the box on the coffee table. "Move over."
She scooted over to the next cushion and furrowed her brows as he sat next to her.
"So it's not much, but…" He flipped the top open and tipped it over for her to see. "Your place was pretty much screwed. But there were a few things in your closet and your dresser that were still good. Mostly clothes, obviously. But there was a shoebox of pictures or whatever, and I found some shoes, so…"
She stared in shock. Dresses and a few blouses and skirts and a pair of her favorite dress pants were folded sloppily inside. The shoebox had pictures of her with friends and cast members and some of her playbills from when she first started out. When she picked up a shirt, thumb rubbing the soft as down fabric, something fell loose, and Noah reached out and caught it instinctively. In his hand was her Star of David necklace, gold and shiny, hanging on a delicate chain.
He shrugged. "Saw it on the floor when I was grabbing stuff. Figured you'd want it."
She smiled, reaching over to pluck it from his open palm. "I do." Looking up at him, she shook her head slightly. "I can't thank you enough, Noah."
"It's cool," he said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "You were pretty raw about losing all your stuff, thought I'd see what I could salvage."
She put her hand on his knee. "I really appreciate it."
He stared at her hand a second before nodding. "Sure."
Reaching for the box, she said, "I'm going to change."
He jerked his head in recognition and she stood from the couch. She put the box in his room, picking out a blue dress and some underwear before taking it to the shower with her. Refreshed and feeling good about being back in her own clothes, she stepped out of the bathroom with a brighter outlook. Yes, she'd lost her apartment, but she'd also regained Noah in her life, and that was a much better thing to focus on. She would start looking for an apartment to rent and contact the insurance company and everything would come together the way it was meant to.
Noah was still sitting on the couch when she returned. "Do you have anything you need to do today?" she asked him. "I wouldn't want to be a bother."
"Nah, no, I'm free." He shook his head.
"Great." She smiled. "Then maybe you have time to play for me like I asked last night."
He snorted. "Still on that, huh?"
"You know me, music has always and will always be number one with me." Taking a seat on the armchair, she rested her elbows on her knees. "So? Let's see if you've gotten rusty, Puckerman," she teased, narrowing her eyes playfully.
"You're on, Berry." Climbing from the couch, he crossed to his stereo, where she hadn't noticed the guitar case leaning before. He took his guitar from it with the same reverence as he'd had when he was younger. Retaking his seat on the couch, he balanced it on his lap, leaning back against his chest, and his arms came around it like he was cradling a lover. "Any preferences?" he asked, fingers moving and plucking smoothly, not finding any particular beat.
"Hm…" She turned her mouth to one side in thought. "You can't go wrong with a classic… Sweet Caroline?"
He grinned and his fingers moved comfortably over the strings, like he could play it in his sleep if he wanted. His voice was deeper, smoother than she remembered, and the lyrics came so very easy to him.
Where it began,
I can't begin to knowing,
But then I know it's growing strong,
Was in the spring,
And spring became the summer,
Who'd believe you'd come along…
She swayed side to side just like she did when they were dating and he'd been trying to prove he was leading man material, that he was worth her. She regretted suddenly that she'd ever let him believe different.
As the song faded away, he was grinning.
She stared at him, her brows furrowed. "I was lucky to date you," she blurted.
He looked over at her, brow arched. "Okay…?"
"No, I…" She sighed. "I'm not sure I ever expressed that to you, but… And I know it was awful of me, to break up with you because I still had feelings with Finn."
He shrugged. "Better than staying with me and still having feelings for him."
"I only meant that…" She stared at him firmly. "You deserved to be someone's first choice." She shook her head. "And at the time, you weren't for me. You deserved better than that. Better than what I could give you."
He licked his lips. "We were kids…"
"Yeah." She smiled lightly. "Misguided, confused, desperately wrong kids."
He played with his guitar a few minutes longer, starting one song and fading into another, and she could tell, by the look on his face, that they were his. That he'd written these beautiful lyrics and the notes that went with them.
She watched from her perch on the chair, how fluidly his longer fingers moved. Sometimes he just closed his eyes and let them wander. And his head would tip, as if he was listening extra hard to every single string as they sang for him. Something relaxed in his face, a sort of peacefulness coming over him. It made him even more handsome, if that was possible. And she wondered how many people had seen him this way, this undeniably involved with his music. Connected and sincerely invested in every sound, every move of his fingers, every beat. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.
"You said 'at the time,'" he murmured, breaking the silence.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. "I'm sorry?"
"You said I wasn't your first choice 'at the time…'" He opened one eye to look at her.
Her eyes widened. "Oh. Well… I…"
He half-smiled. "You ever wonder, Rachel? What would've happened if we didn't break up."
"Yes…" Her eyes fell. "Although I imagine finding out you were the father of Quinn's baby would've been much harder to take if we'd still been dating."
"Yeah…" His other eye opened and they fell to his guitar once more. "I bet you'd have stuck with me though… You were pretty dedicated to whoever you were dating."
She frowned. "I think we've established that didn't work out well in my favor."
"It's okay to be passionate," he told her, sitting forward and moving his guitar back to its case. "You just gotta know when to cut your losses and step back."
"I've learned that," she agreed. "If I hadn't, I'd be married to Finn and living in Lima still."
He grimaced. "Thank God you're not."
"Well, I wouldn't have been in a fire if I was," she mused.
He rolled his eyes. "Don't get your hopes up, Hudson's pretty accident prone. Fire's inevitable."
She laughed, shaking her head at him.
When he leaned back in his seat, he shrugged. "So let's say we made it through the Quinn and Beth drama… Let's say you stuck by me."
"And then you went to juvie."
"Yeah, but if I'd had a good girl on my arm, maybe I wouldn't've pulled that stunt," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.
"It wasn't a matter of who you were dating or who might temper your mischief," she told him, shaking her head. "You were upset and lost. You had a daughter out in the world that you thought you'd never see again… It was awful; that it was expressed the way it was and that you were put into juvenile hall, but… it wasn't surprising after all you'd been through."
He frowned. "You're starting to sound like my shrink."
"Well, he's helped you quite a bit apparently, so I'll take that as a compliment."
"So you've stuck by me through the juvie thing, too?" he wondered.
"If we were still dating… and had been that entire time, then, yes, I probably would have." She nodded. "You would've needed support when you left and I probably would've suggested counseling."
He hummed thoughtfully. "Ya think… We'd have made it, like, all the way?"
Her brows furrowed. "Is that a sexual reference?"
He snorted. "No… But you could answer it like it was."
She rolled her eyes. "Do I think we could've stayed together through the whole of high school? If I'd let go of Finn and let myself fall in love with you… If you'd been able to curb you insatiable promiscuity and loved me in return… If we had weathered baby drama and juvie… Then yes. Yes, I think we would have."
He stared at her, brow raised. "But…?"
"There is no but." She shook her head. "After graduation, we would've wound up here, just like we are. If being a firefighter really is your calling, then you would have found a way to become one in this alternate universe of ours, too…" She nodded. "Maybe if we had stayed together, things wouldn't have been so up and down…" She shrugged. "But I suppose that's the best-case scenario. Being if I got over Finn and you stayed faithful."
"I wouldn't have cheated on you," he said seriously.
She smiled at him. "That's kind of you to say, Noah, but you can't know for sure. We were younger, different then."
"All I ever wanted was to be loved… Just one person." He shrugged. "If you were that person, I never would've hurt you."
Rachel's eyes widened, mouth parting. "Noah…"
He scoffed, shrugging. "Alternate universe though, right? Where a girl like you could've loved a guy like me."
"You underestimate yourself," she told him. "I've said it before, I was too wrapped up in Finn. But I was young and stubborn and I think sometimes I was more in love with the idea of Finn than Finn himself… The truth is, if I look back on it, you were always there, in the background, doing more for me than he ever did right at my side…" Shaking her head, she smiled sadly and said in a whisper-soft voice, "Like I said, I was lucky to date you, Noah… And possibly very stupid to let you go."
The way he was staring at her was intense. Almost too much so. Her legs felt wobbly as she stood, an overload of information and what-ifs swirling in her mind. She started toward the kitchen, asking him, "Are you hungry? I could make you something. After going through the rubble of my apartment, you probably worked up an appetite."
A hand at her back had her pausing. Her brow knotted at the pressure, at the feel of his fingers skimming slowly, warm through the thin fabric of her dress.
"I know a vegan recipe for making pancakes from scratch," she said breathlessly.
His fingers dragged up and slid around to her hip.
"I-I think I saw fruit in your crisper. I could cut some up, make a salad."
He stepped in close, body flattening at her back, and she felt his warm breath on her neck.
"Maybe you'd prefer to go out?"
"I'm good with staying in," he said, his voice low, deep.
Rachel felt her legs tremble, her heart pounding hard in her chest and echoing in her ears.
She felt his fingers moving at her hips, sliding up higher, just a little bit at a time before skimming back down, and then up, up, up, his thumb rubbing circles.
"We're not the same people we were."
She shook her head, swallowing thickly. "No, we aren't."
He moved her hair, slipping it over one shoulder to hang down her front. "You're not in love with Finn anymore."
"I haven't been for a very long time."
She felt his nose lightly graze her neck. "You've got your dream life ahead of you and there's nothing anybody can do to derail that."
"A-Absolutely."
"I'm not a fuck-up anymore…" His hands moved up her back, spread across her shoulder blades, and then slid down until they hit the small of her back before circling around her hips once more. "I don't screw everything that walks. I've got issues still, but I'm working on 'em. I've got a good job that I love."
"You…" She shook her head. "You weren't a… screw-up before, Noah," she told him earnestly. "You were just misguided and unfortunately, nobody stepped up to help you when you needed it most."
His forehead pressed against her hair and she felt his breath down the nape of her neck. "Story of my life. 'Til Coach Beiste, anyway."
She turned then, to face him properly, but didn't step out of his close proximity. "Daddy says that everything that happens in our lives shapes us, good or bad." Her hands found his chest, thumb flicking the button of a pocket absently. "Maybe you wouldn't be such an amazing singer, composer, or firefighter, if it wasn't for the suffering in your life."
He frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe." He tugged on her hair. "And maybe our time wasn't in high school… Maybe it's now."
She stared up at him. "No alternate universe, just poor timing?"
He half-smirked. "Yeah."
"I'm still an admittedly high maintenance woman," she warned.
He grinned. "Wouldn't expect anything less."
"I'm also currently homeless."
He snorted. "I'm sure you have a good reason."
"Very good… There was a fire, not of my doing. But it's okay, because I happened to meet this very handsome, very charming fireman."
"Yeah?" He quirked a brow. "Then what happened?"
Her lips curled at the corners. "You tell me."
Noah's eyes fell to her mouth and that look, so familiar, both from high school and recently, returned. This time, she didn't have to worry about Jesse and he didn't end the moment and change the subject. This time, when he learned in, she met him. Noah's kiss was familiar; she remembered it quite vividly. Rolling across her bed, his body, heavy and warm, on top of hers and between her legs. His hands skimming, reaching, always looking for more, exploring. While his mouth, his tongue and teeth, were constantly moving, meeting hers, pushing and pulling, taking and giving. There was a palpable heat then just as there was now. Only she didn't stop his hands from moving from her hips and up, skimming over her ribs and rising ever-higher until they were cupping her breasts, thumbs rubbing, pressing against the hard points of her nipples encased in blue fabric.
Mouths slanted, breaths taken deep and desperate in between each stroke of his tongue and the close of his mouth around hers, taking her top lip between his. He backed her up, her feet stumbling slightly. His arms wrapped back around her to keep her steady, fingers gripping her dress, pressing into her back. Until finally they were at the table. He hauled her up until she sat on the edge, her dress pulling up at her thighs. He stood between the part of her legs, close enough that he could grind into her, rubbing at the apex of her thighs, the hard bulge beneath his jeans pressing so close and yet not close enough. He leaned into her, one of his hands cradling the back of her neck, her head tipped, his mouth meeting hers with a desperate passion that made her insides warm, her stomach twist, her legs shake. His fingers dragged down her body, from her shoulders to her waist and then back and around to her front, where his hips were rolling, still rubbing and pressing against her. He fingered the edge of her collar before he brought his hands down, fingers spread, skimming over her breasts and down over her stomach and lower still to the ends of her dress. She wanted him to open it, to undo every button from the top of her dress to the bottom, to part the fabric and press those long, callused fingers against her skin. She wanted to feel his fingertips close around her tipple, his rough palm scraping against the underside of her breast. And his mouth; she wanted it everywhere.
"God, I've wanted this," he muttered, pulling away from her mouth only to bury his face in her neck.
She squeaked, gripping his shoulders, furling his shirt up in his fingers, when his teeth scraped and his tongue soothed.
"So long, so fucking long…" His hands were on her knees and moving up, and yes, God yes, she loved the feel of his skin on hers. Rough and warm and heavy as his fingers reached between the cover of her dress and danced over the tops of her thighs. They slid along the sides, drawing circles, dragging his fingers up the length to her knee before sliding all the way back until he was just centimeters away from where she could feel she was wet, soaking through her panties.
"Noah," she whined. "Touch me."
He paused momentarily, and when she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, like he wasn't sure he'd heard her right.
She took his hand and guided it in close, until his knuckles were pressed against where her underwear was sticking to her, her clit throbbing beneath the fabric. "Touch me," she told him.
His mouth crashed against hers almost painfully as he leaned her back, his hands sliding up the outside of her thighs and gripping either side of her panties. He slid them down from the curves of her ass so swift and easy that she didn't even have time to try and lift herself. Her dress bunched in her lap as her legs lifted in the air at the jerking motion. She felt her underwear give and he had them down her thighs, caught on her knees, forcing him to step back enough to take them down the rest of her legs before throwing them away.
"Lean back," he told her.
She fell back on her elbows, still lifted enough to see him.
He parted her legs further and she drew her knees up, balancing her heels on the very edge of the table. His hands slid down her thighs once more, almost too slowly for her to take. He seemed to know it too, seeing as he was smirking at her while she was biting hard at her lip, feeling the shake in her thighs. He let out a small, thick chuckle. Before she could chastise him, his fingers were on her, parting her, skimming against the wet heat of her folds. When he licked his lips, she knew it was only going to get better. Rachel had never watched a boy go down on her. In fact, she'd only experienced it a handful of times. Finn was the clumsiest and she had decided shortly after that it wasn't something she needed in her life. Later, however, in NYADA and after, she'd realized it could be much more pleasurable when a boy knew what he was doing. The way Noah was looking at her made her think she was going to be further surprised by just how good it could be.
Noah took her words to heart, touching her slowly, even reverently. He massaged all around, every so often letting the corner of his thumb glide against her clit. He slid first one finger inside her and curled it back toward himself, when a second joined and did the same, she felt him rub against something inside her, something that made her toes curl and her breath catch. She'd heard of the G-spot, she'd just never known where it was or how to find it. Apparently Noah did. His fingers moved slowly, sinking into her deep and separating slowly, at random, before curling and rubbing that spot again and again, only to stop as soon as she felt it building. His free hand covered her stomach, holding her down as he slid his fingers out and circled her entrance, teetering on the edge, teasing her.
As her breath evened out, he reached up and started unbuttoning her dress, parting it, letting his knuckled drag against her skin. For the first time since he'd returned some of her things to her, she thought maybe having no bras wasn't a bad thing. Noah's hand covered one breast, and she got her wish of having him cover and pluck her nipple, thrumming it as the fingers of his other hand thrust back inside her. She arched up, neck strained as her head fell back. He slid his hand from her chest and continued unbuttoning her dress until it was completely open, and spread it so it lay on either side of her. She squirmed, moving her hips side to side. Wanting him to move deeper, harder, to rub that spot and touch her clit.
"Impatient," he told her. "You know how long I had to wait for this? I'm not wasting it, Rach…"
"Noah, Noah, please…" She cupped her own breasts, thumbs rubbing, pressing against her aching nipples.
"You're so wet, Rachel… So tight and hot and wet." He curled his fingers.
She let out an unintelligible noise and squeezed around him.
She felt him move then and looked to see his head had ducked and his face was much closer now. As he drew his fingers out, he wiped them on her thigh briefly before he was holding her open. His eyes met hers as his tongue flattened against her, dragging from end to end, flicking as it met her clit. His eyes closed briefly. "So good… So sweet…" Another lick, slow and savoring, and she swore she could feel every one of his taste buds rasping against her. While his mouth moved, suckling and kissing, tongue swirling and licking, his finger slid inside her once more, just enough to stimulate and never enough to fully satisfy.
Rachel reached down, one of her hands falling to his head, wishing the 'hawk was there if only for something to grab onto. She cried out when his teeth grazed her clit. "More, more, more," she murmured deliriously.
But Noah liked how she squirmed and panted and tried to press herself into his mouth and his probing tongue. It wasn't until she was sure he'd never let her climax that he finally started suckling her clit in earnest, his fingers filling and curling and rubbing that spot just right. And then she was crying out, slapping her hands against the table as she came. When she fell back to the table, her whole body was vibrating and she wasn't sure she had control of her legs any longer. Tiny shockwaves kept zinging through her, making everything pulse and shiver.
And then her eyes found him, his mouth glistening, his hands stroking her hips while his head rested on her thigh. He was still watching her come down, and licked his lips clean when he realized she was staring back.
She pushed herself up letting her feet drift off the table, and tugged on his ears to get him to stand up properly. She reached for his shirt first, unbuttoning it from the bottom up. He shrugged it off his shoulders and let it fall away before stripping off the wife-beater he had on beneath. One of her hands reached for his belt to deftly undo it, while the other spread across his stomach, fingers dipping in the lines of his abdomen, hard and rippling with each heavy breath he took.
Buckle, zipper, and button undone, he shoved his jeans, thumbs hooked in his underwear, to the ground. Rachel's teeth found her lower lip as she took him in, long and hard, twitching before her eyes. Her hand wrapped around him, the skin of his cock soft and warm. She barely paused before her mouth was wrapped around the tip, her tongue flicking, tasting the pre-cum that beaded at the slit. He muffled a groan, one of his hands burying in her hair. She sucked on him, her tongue circling, before sliding him further into her mouth. The angle didn't leave her much room though and she decided she would have to show him the wonders of her lack of gag reflex later, preferably in an actual bed, where she had the freedom of moving around more and not having to climb off the table, knees digging into the linoleum.
When she sat back up, she licked her lips and tugged him closer by the hips.
His mouth slanted across hers and she tasted herself on his tongue. She hummed and slid her fingers up his sides, digging in. He was so solid, so broad and hard and warm. She breathed his name into his mouth and his kiss gentled. His hands cupped her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks. And she thought of what he'd said, about only ever wanting somebody to love him. And maybe she didn't yet, maybe it took more than just a crash reunion and a whole lot of chemistry, but she did know that she could. She could love this man; this amazing, wonderful, heroic man. And she wanted to. One day. She wanted to explore this far past just the kitchen tale or the bedroom. She wanted to explore what it would be like to be with him, fully and completely, without the added weight of Finn Hudson or Quinn Fabray or anything except just the two of them.
He had to stop to grab the condom from his wallet, but she couldn't say she cared when he was finally sinking into her seconds later. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, her knees hitching high on his hips. Rachel could count on one hand how many men she'd been with. Noah was the first one that she was sure filled her entirely. He was also the first one who knew, without a doubt, what he was doing. He went from slow, swirling hips, and shallow thrusts to quick, deep, and hard in a matter of seconds, changing it up whenever she got used to it. His hand slid between them to tease her clit as he moved. He bent her back so he could press open-mouthed kisses over her chest, taking her nipples between his teeth and lips, tongue lapping.
A sheen of sweat collected on their skin and they moved almost sloppily against each other, chests rubbing as he sunk into her, his hands smoothing over her back, holding her steady, nearly off the table she was gathered so close, the angle making sure his cock rubbed against her clit each time he moved. She bit at his chest, sinking her teeth when she was so close her toes curled and her nails dug into his shoulders. But he slowed down and sucked her neck, creating what she was sure would be one of his infamous hickeys.
It wasn't until she was rolled over onto her stomach and his hands drew her hips back as he slid into her from behind, bent over her, mouth moving down her back, that they finally found relief. He pistoned in and out of her without pause, fingers rubbing her clit quick and hard, until she came once and then again, almost back to back, her eyes closed, fingers clawing at the table, crying his name over and over. And when he twitched inside her, her walls clenching and gripping him, she leaned back, pressing into him as he panted her name against her skin, bottoming out inside her and riding the waves of his climax.
They laid like that for awhile, trying to catch their breath and waiting for their bodies to stop shaking. Until finally, he drew her boneless body up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom. He passed her a wet rag while he disposed of the condom and grabbed a cloth of his own to clean up with. He didn't say anything when she borrowed his brush to fix her hair and tie it up in a knot, out of the way. Instead he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and a few more against her neck. When she was done, she hopped down, and his arms slid back around her as they walked toward his bedroom.
She was tired and everything was still buzzing and the cool sheets of his bed felt fantastic against her skin. He kicked the blanket down and away and pulled her against his side. With her head resting on his shoulder and her leg curved around his, she spread a hand over his chest and lazily drew shapes.
"I hope you don't do this with every girl who loses an apartment to a fire," she muttered.
He snorted. "Only the cute ones I had the hots for in high school."
She scoffed, turning her eyes up to him. "Wouldn't that list be kind of long?"
He shrugged. "Fine, only the hot, crazy, Broadway actresses that I didn't think I was good enough for in high school."
"Noah…" She shook her head. "You seem to forget that I made a lot of mistakes in high school too… I wasn't perfect. Far from it!" Her brows hiked. "There's a reason we're together now and not then. We've both grown up and we don't have those same problems or anchors as before…" She patted his chest. "Meaning when I fall in love with you, it'll be without restraint. And you won't have to second guess my feelings. Just like I won't be worried about whether or not you still love Quinn or Santana or you'll leave me for them or cheat on me." She smiled. "We're going to do this right. We're going to build a relationship with trust and honesty."
"And hot monkey sex."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, and an extremely satisfying sex life."
"Score."
She snorted.
Grinning, he leaned down and kissed her. "'m glad I found you again," he said as he pressed her back into the bed.
Rachel's fingers danced over his temple and down his face. "Me too."
Later, as she laid listening to Noah's steady heartbeat, feeling his fingers rub circles in her skin, she pondered their good fortune.
Maybe it was a fluke that one of old Miss. Brennan's cats knocked her incense down, a coincidence that Noah was working that night and happened to recognize her in the crowd, or maybe it was serendipity or fate stepping in to put them on the right track. All she knew for sure was that a new life had begun from the ashes of her old one, and it would be rebuilt with a better, stronger foundation with Noah at her side. And nothing, not even fire, would touch it.
[End.]