Like Passing Notes in Secrecy 8/13
Title: Like Passing Notes in Secrecy
Chapter: 8/13
Rating: R
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: He's never really missed a girl before. He never cared enough, really, to miss anyone.
Word Count: 4,630
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Anytime she calls him now and he doesn't answer, she worries herself sick wondering why. Is it his mother? Has something happened? Is he drinking his weight in Jack Daniels to try and cope? Is Hannah alright? And she'll stress and stress until he calls her back and lets her know things are fine and she gets to hear his voice.
So when she calls on a Tuesday around 7:30 and gets no answer, she holds her phone in her hand until it rings and his name is on the screen.
"What's up, baby?" he asks.
Now she's mad.
"Are you kidding me? You know I worry! Why don't you answer your stupid phone?"
"Whoa. Calm down," he says, and she wants to beat him with her shoe or something for being so nonchalant. "I was busy."
"Too busy to even text me back to say you'd talk to me later?" she asks. She knows he can probably picture how she's standing right now, hand on her hip.
"Uh. Yeah. Kinda."
"Well, what were you doing?"
He had better have a good reason.
"I was uh...Just...You know," he says.
"No, I don't know," she snaps at him.
"Fuck, you are so hot right now," he tells her. She rolls her eyes. "I was just thinking about you."
Oh.
She knows what that means and it makes her pulse race and her cheeks warm up.
"Oh."
"Yeah." She can hear his lazy smirk. God, she misses that. "You were so good, too."
"Noah," she says, laughing quietly.
"'S'true. Had you against the wall, like that time..."
"Shut up!" she cries. "God, don't...Just stop."
"Turning you on?" he asks.
She hates that there's no one in the world who knows her better than he does sometimes.
"No."
"Liar," he laughs. "Honestly, though. How do you even resist me, baby?"
This is the problem. They're friends who kiss and are maybe in love with each other, and the only thing stopping it from being a true relationship is the fact that they aren't having sex, even though he thinks about it, apparently, and she knows she does, too. He knows she does.
"It's harder than you think," she says quietly.
"That's what she said."
She laughs again and lays down on her bed. "That makes it easier."
"That's what she said!"
He's laughing like a teenage boy at his own joke, and if it wasn't so damned endearing, she'd be angrier with him.
"Stop making it so dirty!"
"That's what she said."
She hangs up on him and he's still laughing when he calls her back to apologize.
He gives her a little update. Hannah got 88% on her science project and his mom had a rough day but started getting a little better at the end of it. She hears the sadness in his voice as they talk about it, though, and so she talks about herself for a while until he's not so depressed anymore.
She almost says I love you at the end of the call, and he texts her as she's trying to get to sleep. It's something dirty and it does nothing to turn her mind (or the rest of her) off.
Honestly? Some days she really doesn't know how she resists him.
... ... ...
His mom is admitted to hospital in February and it takes three days for him to tell Rachel. She'll just worry and come home and he doesn't know what's happening, and as much as he wants her here with him, he doesn't want to fuck up her shit, either. Plus, he's just really trying to deal with this and some days he can't decide if having her around would be good or bad.
Part of him feels like he'll just fucking lose it if he has her around to lose it to. She'll just...she'll let him feel everything and not have to put up a front. As it is, he still has to take care of his sister and talk to doctors and try to call all his stupid relatives who all of a sudden give a shit.
He's just had a long day at the hospital with his mom and his phone rings. He really doesn't want to answer, so he doesn't, but she calls back right away and now he's the one who's worried, so he picks up and doesn't say anything and just waits for whatever she's going to say.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks and she's crying, and it makes him feel like an asshole. "I had to hear it from my dad."
"Sorry."
It's lame, but it's the best he can come up with.
"You should have told me."
"Yeah. Fuck. I know."
There's silence, and he just wants to hang up because he can't fucking handle anymore silence. He hates it. He wants her to say something that'll make any or all of this make sense, and she's being all quiet and it's stupid.
"How is she?"
"Fine." He sighs and lays back on his bed. "Not fine."
"I'm coming home," she says, all determinedly.
"No, you're not," he tells her. Maybe it's a little too harsh, but he can't fucking deal with her skipping more classes because of him. "Don't."
"You didn't want me to leave and now you don't want me to come back?"
She sounds pissed and maybe she has a right, but this isn't about her, and it's not about the fact that he's an idiot who can't tell her how he actually feels, just tells her he wants her around sometimes. Fuck. He wonders why she's even still talking to him after all this bullshit, all they've been through.
Instead he just says, "Not yet," and he knows she'll understand why he wants it this way.
He knows he's going to need her a lot more really soon.
... ... ...
She stands in the kitchen in her black dress and watches him from across the room, the way his shoulders slope down beneath his white dress shirt and how he hugs relatives and listens more than he speaks.
She hates today.
Finn and Mike are sitting at the kitchen table with Hannah, subtly trying to get her to smile, and Rachel shoots Mike an appreciative glance. He just winks back at her and it almost makes her cry.
Everything almost makes her cry.
She's standing in her not-boyfriend's house, mourning the loss of her not-boyfriend's mother, and everything about it is wrong. Everything. Everything from the fact that she's here at all for this occasion to the fact that he's still her not-boyfriend.
She's sick of that. She's tired of pretending she doesn't want to say all the important words to him and hear him say them back. She's really sick of them acting like this is just a friendship when everyone already knows it's not. Yesterday Hannah called Rachel 'my brother's girlfriend' to one of the neighbours and Rachel liked the sound of it so much that she didn't make any corrections. Not to mention, Hannah is sorting through enough without trying to figure out what Rachel is if she's not Noah's girlfriend.
Santana comes over and actually offers Rachel a hug, and maybe that's the biggest indicator of how huge all this really is. All her old glee club friends know she's close enough to Noah to have been close with Aviva and offer their sympathies to her, as well as him. Kurt gave her a beautiful handmade card, and Quinn actually held her hand during the service earlier.
He finally makes his way into the kitchen, looks over to where Hannah's sitting with her back to him with his friends entertaining her. He walks right over to Rachel and, obviously not caring who's around to see them, wraps his arms tight around her and pushes her back against the counter.
"Hey," he says.
They haven't had much of a chance to talk since they woke up this morning and got ready together in his bedroom. She obviously knows why this is, just wishes there was more she could do for him.
"Hi," she echoes quietly.
"Wanna get out of here?" he asks. She shakes her head at him, but he slides his hand into her hair and his thumb teases at her hairline just behind her ear, and she realizes she'll do whatever he needs right now. "C'mon. I just need to get out of here."
"Okay," she whispers.
He briefly talks to Finn and she can tell he's asking his friend to stay with Hannah, even after everyone's gone. Then Noah takes her hand in one of his, grabs her jacket with the other, and pulls her out the back door of the house. He opens his truck's door for her, since the thing is falling apart and barely opens at the best of times. It's been snowing all morning and it's cold, and he blows into his hands as he walks around the front of the truck before getting in and turning on the heat to full blast. Her fathers are at his house and she knows he's taking them to hers before he's even pulled off his street.
He grabs her hand and laughs softly when he realizes she's wearing mittens now. "They were in my pocket," she explains. He nods and she feels silly, but then he holds her hand tighter and doesn't let go until they're pulling into her driveway.
He starts up the stairs to her room before she's even locked the door. She slips off her heels and follows him, relishing in the way the carpet feels beneath her aching feet. When she steps into her room he's tugging at his tie, but having trouble. She walks over and takes the silk in her hands, loosens the knot gently as he watches her face. She slides the fabric over his shirt and sets it on her dresser, and suddenly his fingers are digging into her waist and he's pulling her closer. He buries his face in her hair, and she's getting used to this, the way he holds her like this. He's been doing it a lot the past few days.
But she knows everything's just hit him like a ton of bricks today, with his extended family coming in and people he's never even met talking to him about his mom like they somehow knew her better than he did.
He pulls away after a moment and lays back on her bed.
She needs to make him better somehow, and he's been telling her for days that she's doing it just by being here, but it doesn't seem like nearly enough and she hates feeling helpless.
So she walks over to the bed and hikes up the skirt of her dress, then straddles his hips and leans down to kiss him, his face in her hands and her hair falling over one of her shoulders.
He looks up at her, says her name and lets his hands slide up and down her sides before settling on her hips. He pushes her forward a bit and she feels him begin to harden beneath her.
"Let me," she whispers against his lips. Her hands slide down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as she goes.
"Rachel, you..." She kisses him and rolls her hips, and he groans and pushes up against her.
"Let me," she repeats, more firmly.
Then his hands are beneath her dress, tugging at her panties, and he rolls her beneath him.
It's slow and quiet, which she almost deems miraculous because it's been so long since they did this last. He treats her like she might break if he moves too abruptly, and she kisses him softer than she has to. He makes sure they come together and she whispers his name as his hand kneads at her thigh.
And she can't see herself ever sharing a bed with anyone who isn't him.
... ... ...
He wakes up in Rachel's bed and it's dark outside, but there's light coming from the bedside table. Her sleeping face is right in front of him and her legs are tangled with his. They're both naked and he realizes it wasn't a dream. In a way it's good because that means they really did sleep together. In a way it's shitty because it means his mom's still dead.
He pushes his fingers through Rachel's hair gently, gets it away from her face but doesn't stop after because her hair is always so soft and he likes doing it. He's trying not to think about the conversation he had with his mom a few days before she died, but it's really the only thing going through his head. She pretty much called him out on this thing with Rachel, asked him what the hell he's waiting for. He said something about it being Rachel's call, and she said, "Noah, that girl has been in love with you for years. She knows what she wants."
And no, Rachel's never admitted that she loves him, but it's not like he hasn't kind of known it. She's always been around, since he was 18 or maybe before then, and she's...she's just his girl, kind of the same way she thinks he's her man or something. And neither of them is wrong, either. Because he doesn't want anyone else and he knows for a fact that she doesn't. He tried to explain to his mom that they're living two totally different lives right now and she basically told him to cut the bullshit and own up to the fact that he wants Rachel all the time no matter what. She also said, "Distance isn't a mountain, Noah, and if it was, there are airplanes that take you right over." Yeah, she was losing lucidity at the end a little bit, but somehow that made sense too.
New York isn't that far. He's gotta stay in Lima full time and Rachel needs to be in New York, but it's just a plane ride away. Fuck, a train or a bus or whatever. He and Hannah could go in the summer, and Rachel can visit him. It's not that big a deal. Maybe when he was in Montana it was, because that's way far, but Ohio is closer. Plus, he's not a stupid kid with his head shoved up his ass anymore. He's got responsibilities and he's grown up a hell of a lot this year. He wants Rachel around him when he figures things out and does something with his life. Hell, he wants her around even if he never does anything worth mentioning ever again. (He also knows she won't let him get away with that shit, either.)
So today sucked and she made him feel better, not just because it was sex and he loves that, but because she showed up and took care of things. She made sure Hannah's dress was ironed and her hair was done. She had her dads handle all the catering stuff. She bitched out the florist for putting daisies in the arrangement when there weren't supposed to be any there 'cause his mom hated them.
Then there's the fact that she finally seemed to see that they're so much better when they're not pretending they aren't a couple. He honestly didn't expect it when he took her out of his house and brought her here, and his attempts to stop her weren't really that serious. She knew he needed to be close to her (to someone, but especially her) and she gave that to him with no questions asked. That's probably because he's not exactly hiding his emotions well.
Goddamn. If his mom could see it, Rachel probably can, too.
(And he'll never forget laughing with stupid fucking tears in his eyes when his mom said, "Marry her or I'll come back here and kick your tuchus.")
He doesn't know about marriage, but he knows he's not fucking around anymore.
So he kisses Rachel's face until she's awake, and he smiles against her lips when she lets out this little sound he loves that she makes every goddamn morning.
"Hi."
She smiles and closes her eyes slowly before opening them again. "I love waking up with you," she admits sleepily.
He kisses her again and pulls her closer. She shivers against the cold, so he tugs the blankets up further. "Yeah. Same." He turns his head to look at the clock behind him and laughs. "It's 10:00."
"At night?"
He laughs and kisses her. "Yeah, at night. 'S'dark out."
"Hmm." Fuck, he loves that noise.
"Hey, Rach?" he says quietly, trying to get her to wake up just a little more. She pushes herself closer. He loses his nerve, though, and forgets what he was going to say altogether when she opens her eyes. "Hi."
She lets out this sleepy little giggle and he presses his nose against hers. "I don't know if we should get up or go back to sleep."
He teases at her lips until she whines. "We could stay in bed."
He doesn't know if she really gets it until he moves his hand down her side and over her hip, then pushes it between her legs.
"I like that idea," she admits. He presses his hand against her. "Noah."
"Yeah," he murmurs, pushing her onto her back. "Yeah, it's a good idea."
He's fucking himself over because he's just going to miss her way more once she's gone again, but he doesn't care when he has her here right now.
... ... ...
Her last morning in Lima, she wakes up alone in his bed wearing nothing but his tee shirt. She pulls back the covers and peeks into the hall, then runs across, even though her shirt is well long enough to cover her ass. She doesn't need to confuse Hannah. Or scar the girl or something.
She steps into the bathroom and shuts the door quietly, brushes her teeth quickly and twists her hair up, holds it in place with a clip. She sees the hickey on the inside of her left thigh, and the one just below her right hip. She didn't complain when he was putting them there and she won't complain now. She doesn't need to be marked to know she's his, that's all. Still she finds looking at those spots gives her a rush of something she can't follow through on now.
Besides, where is he?
She goes back to his room and pulls on a pair of panties from the bag she's been keeping on his dresser, a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt she's basically been living in. This house has always been kept cooler than she's used to. Plus, she likes wearing things that smell like him. She wasn't even annoyed when, last time she visited, he called her on that. And this is the sweater she was wearing that last really good day with Aviva, so it means something to her and she's already told Noah never to get rid of it.
She heads down the stairs and she can hear Noah singing quietly in the kitchen. She loves that he does that when no one else is around. It's some song she thinks is by Pearl Jam or Audioslave or something. He's putting dishes away and doesn't hear her come into the room, so she slides her hands around his waist and he laughs softly and turns around, leans back against the counter.
"'Morning, Princess," he says teasingly.
She'll never tell him how much she loves that nickname or he's likely to stop using it. It only comes out sometimes and usually when he's trying to make fun of her.
"You could have woken me up."
He shrugs his shoulder and turns around again to grab her a mug. She knows it's more just so he can avoid eye contact as he says, "You have a flight later," like that's some reason she needs to sleep until 9:30.
He hands her a cup of coffee and she tucks her hand into the front pocket of his jeans to keep him from walking away. "Noah."
"Whatever."
He tries to turn away again, but she won't let him. "Stop that," she says, brow furrowed. "Don't do that."
"C'mon, Rach. Let's just fuckin' have breakfast, okay?" he says, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips.
"No," she says petulantly. "You're being a brat."
"Says the brat!"
She glares at him and steps back. "Why are you being like this?" she asks, shaking her head.
"Oh, I dunno!" he shouts, rolling his eyes. "Maybe 'cause you're fucking leaving. Again."
"You knew I was," she says quietly. "I know that people leaving you right now is kind of a sensitive issue."
"Don't," he says dangerously. "Don't make this about that." She sighs and closes her eyes. Whether or not he wants to acknowledge it, she's right and the two are connected. "I'm just fucking sick of, like, saying goodbye to you."
"It's not easy for me, either," she argues.
She hates that they're arguing at all, especially right now. She figures he has some anger and aggression to work out, she just didn't think he'd do it by picking a fight with her when she's leaving in a matter of hours.
"Coulda fooled me," he mumbles.
Now she's mad. She hates him for that, for making it seem like he's the only one who feels anything when they're apart. They've been doing this stupid thing for years and it's not fair of him to imply that she doesn't hate it just as much as he does right now.
"Really?" she asks, laughing quietly. "Because it's not like I've ever called you, crying about how much I miss you, and it's not like I text you every day and talk to you as often as I can. I guess none of that means I'd rather be with my boyfriend instead of alone somewhere else!" And she's crying and she hates herself for it, and he looks too stunned by what she's said to do much of anything. "Yes, I called you my boyfriend. Get used to it, because that's what you are and that's what I want you to be."
She watches the grin he gives her and waits for him to say something more. All he does is take the coffee mug from her hand and set it on the counter. She's nervous. She's said too much and she'll cry even harder if he wants her to take it back or if he thinks she's jumped to conclusions. She knows she hasn't, but rationality isn't exactly winning.
"Okay," he says.
She just stares at him. "Okay?" she asks incredulously. He shrugs one shoulder and she throws her hands in the air. "I say I want us to be together and you say okay? Jerk!"
He grabs her wrists, chuckling, and kisses her to shut her up. For once, she's thankful.
"Calm down," he laughs. She pouts and he kisses her again. "I guess if you're gonna get all demanding about it, I'll be your boyfriend and shit."
She shakes her head at him and lets him hug her, even though she kind of wants to punch him for doing that to her. "That makes me your girlfriend."
"Yeah, babe. Figured that out on my own."
"Well!" she shouts. He laughs again. "Apparently you need help with these things sometimes."
He pulls her close and slides his hands under her shirt. "Not this time," he says, voice deep as he kisses along her jaw. She lets out a sound and grabs onto his shirt. "Fuck, baby, I've wanted this."
He doesn't say how badly, and he doesn't say how long. That's okay. She can guess.
When he pushes her back against the table and lifts her up onto it, she wants to protest and tell him to stop. It's incredibly difficult to do when he's sliding his hand up under her shirt to cup her breast, moaning when he realizes she's not wearing a bra. He's kissing her and she wants him to, but he has a sister who could walk in any second. If Rachel thought just the tee shirt would scar Hannah, she doesn't even want to imagine what this would do to the girl.
"Wait," Rachel says breathlessly. He doesn't stop and she's not surprised. "Where's..." She thinks better of mentioning his sister's name while he's pulling down the zipper of her jeans. "Are we alone?"
"Yeah," he answers, then drags his tongue down the side of her neck before pulling off her sweatshirt. "She's at Joan's."
Rachel parts her legs for him and he grins and pushes her down so she's laying on her back, then tugs at her jeans and panties until they're off and she pulls her tee shirt over her head. He maneuvers her until she's exactly how he wants her, then kisses her as he unbuttons his pants. She's gotten used to it over the years, the way he always seems to have some kind of plan for sex. That makes him sound like some kind of sex nerd, but he's not. Sometimes she can just see him working it out, thinking dirty things, until he knows how he's going to take her and puts her in exactly the position he needs her in to fulfill the little fantasy he just played out in his mind. It's ridiculously sexy and she kind of loves him for it.
Maybe this is the worst place in the entire house for them to do this, especially given that there are no blinds covering the window above the sink, but then he murmurs against her stomach about how much he's going to miss her and she can't find it in her to care.
...Chapter 9...
Chapter: 8/13
Rating: R
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: He's never really missed a girl before. He never cared enough, really, to miss anyone.
Word Count: 4,630
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Anytime she calls him now and he doesn't answer, she worries herself sick wondering why. Is it his mother? Has something happened? Is he drinking his weight in Jack Daniels to try and cope? Is Hannah alright? And she'll stress and stress until he calls her back and lets her know things are fine and she gets to hear his voice.
So when she calls on a Tuesday around 7:30 and gets no answer, she holds her phone in her hand until it rings and his name is on the screen.
"What's up, baby?" he asks.
Now she's mad.
"Are you kidding me? You know I worry! Why don't you answer your stupid phone?"
"Whoa. Calm down," he says, and she wants to beat him with her shoe or something for being so nonchalant. "I was busy."
"Too busy to even text me back to say you'd talk to me later?" she asks. She knows he can probably picture how she's standing right now, hand on her hip.
"Uh. Yeah. Kinda."
"Well, what were you doing?"
He had better have a good reason.
"I was uh...Just...You know," he says.
"No, I don't know," she snaps at him.
"Fuck, you are so hot right now," he tells her. She rolls her eyes. "I was just thinking about you."
Oh.
She knows what that means and it makes her pulse race and her cheeks warm up.
"Oh."
"Yeah." She can hear his lazy smirk. God, she misses that. "You were so good, too."
"Noah," she says, laughing quietly.
"'S'true. Had you against the wall, like that time..."
"Shut up!" she cries. "God, don't...Just stop."
"Turning you on?" he asks.
She hates that there's no one in the world who knows her better than he does sometimes.
"No."
"Liar," he laughs. "Honestly, though. How do you even resist me, baby?"
This is the problem. They're friends who kiss and are maybe in love with each other, and the only thing stopping it from being a true relationship is the fact that they aren't having sex, even though he thinks about it, apparently, and she knows she does, too. He knows she does.
"It's harder than you think," she says quietly.
"That's what she said."
She laughs again and lays down on her bed. "That makes it easier."
"That's what she said!"
He's laughing like a teenage boy at his own joke, and if it wasn't so damned endearing, she'd be angrier with him.
"Stop making it so dirty!"
"That's what she said."
She hangs up on him and he's still laughing when he calls her back to apologize.
He gives her a little update. Hannah got 88% on her science project and his mom had a rough day but started getting a little better at the end of it. She hears the sadness in his voice as they talk about it, though, and so she talks about herself for a while until he's not so depressed anymore.
She almost says I love you at the end of the call, and he texts her as she's trying to get to sleep. It's something dirty and it does nothing to turn her mind (or the rest of her) off.
Honestly? Some days she really doesn't know how she resists him.
... ... ...
His mom is admitted to hospital in February and it takes three days for him to tell Rachel. She'll just worry and come home and he doesn't know what's happening, and as much as he wants her here with him, he doesn't want to fuck up her shit, either. Plus, he's just really trying to deal with this and some days he can't decide if having her around would be good or bad.
Part of him feels like he'll just fucking lose it if he has her around to lose it to. She'll just...she'll let him feel everything and not have to put up a front. As it is, he still has to take care of his sister and talk to doctors and try to call all his stupid relatives who all of a sudden give a shit.
He's just had a long day at the hospital with his mom and his phone rings. He really doesn't want to answer, so he doesn't, but she calls back right away and now he's the one who's worried, so he picks up and doesn't say anything and just waits for whatever she's going to say.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks and she's crying, and it makes him feel like an asshole. "I had to hear it from my dad."
"Sorry."
It's lame, but it's the best he can come up with.
"You should have told me."
"Yeah. Fuck. I know."
There's silence, and he just wants to hang up because he can't fucking handle anymore silence. He hates it. He wants her to say something that'll make any or all of this make sense, and she's being all quiet and it's stupid.
"How is she?"
"Fine." He sighs and lays back on his bed. "Not fine."
"I'm coming home," she says, all determinedly.
"No, you're not," he tells her. Maybe it's a little too harsh, but he can't fucking deal with her skipping more classes because of him. "Don't."
"You didn't want me to leave and now you don't want me to come back?"
She sounds pissed and maybe she has a right, but this isn't about her, and it's not about the fact that he's an idiot who can't tell her how he actually feels, just tells her he wants her around sometimes. Fuck. He wonders why she's even still talking to him after all this bullshit, all they've been through.
Instead he just says, "Not yet," and he knows she'll understand why he wants it this way.
He knows he's going to need her a lot more really soon.
... ... ...
She stands in the kitchen in her black dress and watches him from across the room, the way his shoulders slope down beneath his white dress shirt and how he hugs relatives and listens more than he speaks.
She hates today.
Finn and Mike are sitting at the kitchen table with Hannah, subtly trying to get her to smile, and Rachel shoots Mike an appreciative glance. He just winks back at her and it almost makes her cry.
Everything almost makes her cry.
She's standing in her not-boyfriend's house, mourning the loss of her not-boyfriend's mother, and everything about it is wrong. Everything. Everything from the fact that she's here at all for this occasion to the fact that he's still her not-boyfriend.
She's sick of that. She's tired of pretending she doesn't want to say all the important words to him and hear him say them back. She's really sick of them acting like this is just a friendship when everyone already knows it's not. Yesterday Hannah called Rachel 'my brother's girlfriend' to one of the neighbours and Rachel liked the sound of it so much that she didn't make any corrections. Not to mention, Hannah is sorting through enough without trying to figure out what Rachel is if she's not Noah's girlfriend.
Santana comes over and actually offers Rachel a hug, and maybe that's the biggest indicator of how huge all this really is. All her old glee club friends know she's close enough to Noah to have been close with Aviva and offer their sympathies to her, as well as him. Kurt gave her a beautiful handmade card, and Quinn actually held her hand during the service earlier.
He finally makes his way into the kitchen, looks over to where Hannah's sitting with her back to him with his friends entertaining her. He walks right over to Rachel and, obviously not caring who's around to see them, wraps his arms tight around her and pushes her back against the counter.
"Hey," he says.
They haven't had much of a chance to talk since they woke up this morning and got ready together in his bedroom. She obviously knows why this is, just wishes there was more she could do for him.
"Hi," she echoes quietly.
"Wanna get out of here?" he asks. She shakes her head at him, but he slides his hand into her hair and his thumb teases at her hairline just behind her ear, and she realizes she'll do whatever he needs right now. "C'mon. I just need to get out of here."
"Okay," she whispers.
He briefly talks to Finn and she can tell he's asking his friend to stay with Hannah, even after everyone's gone. Then Noah takes her hand in one of his, grabs her jacket with the other, and pulls her out the back door of the house. He opens his truck's door for her, since the thing is falling apart and barely opens at the best of times. It's been snowing all morning and it's cold, and he blows into his hands as he walks around the front of the truck before getting in and turning on the heat to full blast. Her fathers are at his house and she knows he's taking them to hers before he's even pulled off his street.
He grabs her hand and laughs softly when he realizes she's wearing mittens now. "They were in my pocket," she explains. He nods and she feels silly, but then he holds her hand tighter and doesn't let go until they're pulling into her driveway.
He starts up the stairs to her room before she's even locked the door. She slips off her heels and follows him, relishing in the way the carpet feels beneath her aching feet. When she steps into her room he's tugging at his tie, but having trouble. She walks over and takes the silk in her hands, loosens the knot gently as he watches her face. She slides the fabric over his shirt and sets it on her dresser, and suddenly his fingers are digging into her waist and he's pulling her closer. He buries his face in her hair, and she's getting used to this, the way he holds her like this. He's been doing it a lot the past few days.
But she knows everything's just hit him like a ton of bricks today, with his extended family coming in and people he's never even met talking to him about his mom like they somehow knew her better than he did.
He pulls away after a moment and lays back on her bed.
She needs to make him better somehow, and he's been telling her for days that she's doing it just by being here, but it doesn't seem like nearly enough and she hates feeling helpless.
So she walks over to the bed and hikes up the skirt of her dress, then straddles his hips and leans down to kiss him, his face in her hands and her hair falling over one of her shoulders.
He looks up at her, says her name and lets his hands slide up and down her sides before settling on her hips. He pushes her forward a bit and she feels him begin to harden beneath her.
"Let me," she whispers against his lips. Her hands slide down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as she goes.
"Rachel, you..." She kisses him and rolls her hips, and he groans and pushes up against her.
"Let me," she repeats, more firmly.
Then his hands are beneath her dress, tugging at her panties, and he rolls her beneath him.
It's slow and quiet, which she almost deems miraculous because it's been so long since they did this last. He treats her like she might break if he moves too abruptly, and she kisses him softer than she has to. He makes sure they come together and she whispers his name as his hand kneads at her thigh.
And she can't see herself ever sharing a bed with anyone who isn't him.
... ... ...
He wakes up in Rachel's bed and it's dark outside, but there's light coming from the bedside table. Her sleeping face is right in front of him and her legs are tangled with his. They're both naked and he realizes it wasn't a dream. In a way it's good because that means they really did sleep together. In a way it's shitty because it means his mom's still dead.
He pushes his fingers through Rachel's hair gently, gets it away from her face but doesn't stop after because her hair is always so soft and he likes doing it. He's trying not to think about the conversation he had with his mom a few days before she died, but it's really the only thing going through his head. She pretty much called him out on this thing with Rachel, asked him what the hell he's waiting for. He said something about it being Rachel's call, and she said, "Noah, that girl has been in love with you for years. She knows what she wants."
And no, Rachel's never admitted that she loves him, but it's not like he hasn't kind of known it. She's always been around, since he was 18 or maybe before then, and she's...she's just his girl, kind of the same way she thinks he's her man or something. And neither of them is wrong, either. Because he doesn't want anyone else and he knows for a fact that she doesn't. He tried to explain to his mom that they're living two totally different lives right now and she basically told him to cut the bullshit and own up to the fact that he wants Rachel all the time no matter what. She also said, "Distance isn't a mountain, Noah, and if it was, there are airplanes that take you right over." Yeah, she was losing lucidity at the end a little bit, but somehow that made sense too.
New York isn't that far. He's gotta stay in Lima full time and Rachel needs to be in New York, but it's just a plane ride away. Fuck, a train or a bus or whatever. He and Hannah could go in the summer, and Rachel can visit him. It's not that big a deal. Maybe when he was in Montana it was, because that's way far, but Ohio is closer. Plus, he's not a stupid kid with his head shoved up his ass anymore. He's got responsibilities and he's grown up a hell of a lot this year. He wants Rachel around him when he figures things out and does something with his life. Hell, he wants her around even if he never does anything worth mentioning ever again. (He also knows she won't let him get away with that shit, either.)
So today sucked and she made him feel better, not just because it was sex and he loves that, but because she showed up and took care of things. She made sure Hannah's dress was ironed and her hair was done. She had her dads handle all the catering stuff. She bitched out the florist for putting daisies in the arrangement when there weren't supposed to be any there 'cause his mom hated them.
Then there's the fact that she finally seemed to see that they're so much better when they're not pretending they aren't a couple. He honestly didn't expect it when he took her out of his house and brought her here, and his attempts to stop her weren't really that serious. She knew he needed to be close to her (to someone, but especially her) and she gave that to him with no questions asked. That's probably because he's not exactly hiding his emotions well.
Goddamn. If his mom could see it, Rachel probably can, too.
(And he'll never forget laughing with stupid fucking tears in his eyes when his mom said, "Marry her or I'll come back here and kick your tuchus.")
He doesn't know about marriage, but he knows he's not fucking around anymore.
So he kisses Rachel's face until she's awake, and he smiles against her lips when she lets out this little sound he loves that she makes every goddamn morning.
"Hi."
She smiles and closes her eyes slowly before opening them again. "I love waking up with you," she admits sleepily.
He kisses her again and pulls her closer. She shivers against the cold, so he tugs the blankets up further. "Yeah. Same." He turns his head to look at the clock behind him and laughs. "It's 10:00."
"At night?"
He laughs and kisses her. "Yeah, at night. 'S'dark out."
"Hmm." Fuck, he loves that noise.
"Hey, Rach?" he says quietly, trying to get her to wake up just a little more. She pushes herself closer. He loses his nerve, though, and forgets what he was going to say altogether when she opens her eyes. "Hi."
She lets out this sleepy little giggle and he presses his nose against hers. "I don't know if we should get up or go back to sleep."
He teases at her lips until she whines. "We could stay in bed."
He doesn't know if she really gets it until he moves his hand down her side and over her hip, then pushes it between her legs.
"I like that idea," she admits. He presses his hand against her. "Noah."
"Yeah," he murmurs, pushing her onto her back. "Yeah, it's a good idea."
He's fucking himself over because he's just going to miss her way more once she's gone again, but he doesn't care when he has her here right now.
... ... ...
Her last morning in Lima, she wakes up alone in his bed wearing nothing but his tee shirt. She pulls back the covers and peeks into the hall, then runs across, even though her shirt is well long enough to cover her ass. She doesn't need to confuse Hannah. Or scar the girl or something.
She steps into the bathroom and shuts the door quietly, brushes her teeth quickly and twists her hair up, holds it in place with a clip. She sees the hickey on the inside of her left thigh, and the one just below her right hip. She didn't complain when he was putting them there and she won't complain now. She doesn't need to be marked to know she's his, that's all. Still she finds looking at those spots gives her a rush of something she can't follow through on now.
Besides, where is he?
She goes back to his room and pulls on a pair of panties from the bag she's been keeping on his dresser, a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt she's basically been living in. This house has always been kept cooler than she's used to. Plus, she likes wearing things that smell like him. She wasn't even annoyed when, last time she visited, he called her on that. And this is the sweater she was wearing that last really good day with Aviva, so it means something to her and she's already told Noah never to get rid of it.
She heads down the stairs and she can hear Noah singing quietly in the kitchen. She loves that he does that when no one else is around. It's some song she thinks is by Pearl Jam or Audioslave or something. He's putting dishes away and doesn't hear her come into the room, so she slides her hands around his waist and he laughs softly and turns around, leans back against the counter.
"'Morning, Princess," he says teasingly.
She'll never tell him how much she loves that nickname or he's likely to stop using it. It only comes out sometimes and usually when he's trying to make fun of her.
"You could have woken me up."
He shrugs his shoulder and turns around again to grab her a mug. She knows it's more just so he can avoid eye contact as he says, "You have a flight later," like that's some reason she needs to sleep until 9:30.
He hands her a cup of coffee and she tucks her hand into the front pocket of his jeans to keep him from walking away. "Noah."
"Whatever."
He tries to turn away again, but she won't let him. "Stop that," she says, brow furrowed. "Don't do that."
"C'mon, Rach. Let's just fuckin' have breakfast, okay?" he says, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips.
"No," she says petulantly. "You're being a brat."
"Says the brat!"
She glares at him and steps back. "Why are you being like this?" she asks, shaking her head.
"Oh, I dunno!" he shouts, rolling his eyes. "Maybe 'cause you're fucking leaving. Again."
"You knew I was," she says quietly. "I know that people leaving you right now is kind of a sensitive issue."
"Don't," he says dangerously. "Don't make this about that." She sighs and closes her eyes. Whether or not he wants to acknowledge it, she's right and the two are connected. "I'm just fucking sick of, like, saying goodbye to you."
"It's not easy for me, either," she argues.
She hates that they're arguing at all, especially right now. She figures he has some anger and aggression to work out, she just didn't think he'd do it by picking a fight with her when she's leaving in a matter of hours.
"Coulda fooled me," he mumbles.
Now she's mad. She hates him for that, for making it seem like he's the only one who feels anything when they're apart. They've been doing this stupid thing for years and it's not fair of him to imply that she doesn't hate it just as much as he does right now.
"Really?" she asks, laughing quietly. "Because it's not like I've ever called you, crying about how much I miss you, and it's not like I text you every day and talk to you as often as I can. I guess none of that means I'd rather be with my boyfriend instead of alone somewhere else!" And she's crying and she hates herself for it, and he looks too stunned by what she's said to do much of anything. "Yes, I called you my boyfriend. Get used to it, because that's what you are and that's what I want you to be."
She watches the grin he gives her and waits for him to say something more. All he does is take the coffee mug from her hand and set it on the counter. She's nervous. She's said too much and she'll cry even harder if he wants her to take it back or if he thinks she's jumped to conclusions. She knows she hasn't, but rationality isn't exactly winning.
"Okay," he says.
She just stares at him. "Okay?" she asks incredulously. He shrugs one shoulder and she throws her hands in the air. "I say I want us to be together and you say okay? Jerk!"
He grabs her wrists, chuckling, and kisses her to shut her up. For once, she's thankful.
"Calm down," he laughs. She pouts and he kisses her again. "I guess if you're gonna get all demanding about it, I'll be your boyfriend and shit."
She shakes her head at him and lets him hug her, even though she kind of wants to punch him for doing that to her. "That makes me your girlfriend."
"Yeah, babe. Figured that out on my own."
"Well!" she shouts. He laughs again. "Apparently you need help with these things sometimes."
He pulls her close and slides his hands under her shirt. "Not this time," he says, voice deep as he kisses along her jaw. She lets out a sound and grabs onto his shirt. "Fuck, baby, I've wanted this."
He doesn't say how badly, and he doesn't say how long. That's okay. She can guess.
When he pushes her back against the table and lifts her up onto it, she wants to protest and tell him to stop. It's incredibly difficult to do when he's sliding his hand up under her shirt to cup her breast, moaning when he realizes she's not wearing a bra. He's kissing her and she wants him to, but he has a sister who could walk in any second. If Rachel thought just the tee shirt would scar Hannah, she doesn't even want to imagine what this would do to the girl.
"Wait," Rachel says breathlessly. He doesn't stop and she's not surprised. "Where's..." She thinks better of mentioning his sister's name while he's pulling down the zipper of her jeans. "Are we alone?"
"Yeah," he answers, then drags his tongue down the side of her neck before pulling off her sweatshirt. "She's at Joan's."
Rachel parts her legs for him and he grins and pushes her down so she's laying on her back, then tugs at her jeans and panties until they're off and she pulls her tee shirt over her head. He maneuvers her until she's exactly how he wants her, then kisses her as he unbuttons his pants. She's gotten used to it over the years, the way he always seems to have some kind of plan for sex. That makes him sound like some kind of sex nerd, but he's not. Sometimes she can just see him working it out, thinking dirty things, until he knows how he's going to take her and puts her in exactly the position he needs her in to fulfill the little fantasy he just played out in his mind. It's ridiculously sexy and she kind of loves him for it.
Maybe this is the worst place in the entire house for them to do this, especially given that there are no blinds covering the window above the sink, but then he murmurs against her stomach about how much he's going to miss her and she can't find it in her to care.
...Chapter 9...