Like Passing Notes In Secrecy 13/13
Title: Like Passing Notes in Secrecy
Chapter: 13/13
Rating: R
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: He's never really missed a girl before. He never cared enough, really, to miss anyone.
Word Count: 5,300
Disclaimer: Don't own.
She lives in a lonely Chicago hotel room, paid for by the production company. She goes to workshops and little rehearsals and one night has drinks with the core cast, but for the most part, she just goes back to her hotel room and does as much as possible to not feel so completely alone.
Noah tells her she's crazy when she tells him that. She's in a new city and there's so many things to do for the move, but she's not doing any of them. She's already chosen the furniture for their living room, and she's getting a gorgeous oak table from her grandmother for the dining room.
They just have to find a house. Their realtor is a nice woman, but she keeps giving them listings either out of their price range or not at all what they want. It starts a huge fight one day because Rachel asks where on earth he found this awful realtor and he gets offended. She can understand why, so she apologizes quickly, but still. It's tense, trying to get everything done and just get he and Hannah to Chicago already.
They come to visit her for a weekend to look at houses. Rachel's just so happy to see both of them that it's hard to focus on what they're actually supposed to be doing.
She still manages to 'fire' their realtor.
Honestly, though, a one bedroom condo in downtown Chicago is not at all even remotely close to what they've been talking about, and Rachel decides that since this is the third awful place they've seen today, that maybe Rebecca can and should be replaced. She gives a pretty epic speech, takes Hannah by the hand and storms out of the condo. She's halfway to the elevator when Noah catches up to them, and Hannah is laughing so hard it actually makes Rachel smile. Noah throws his arm around her and kisses her cheek, tells her she's insane and then asks her if she has any idea who they can buy a damn house from now that they don't have a realtor.
Oh. Right. She didn't entirely think that part through. Realtors aren't hard to come by, are they? She has him pull into the closest real estate office and they end up finding a new agent that day, who promises them he'll help them find the perfect house.
"I don't like him," Noah mumbles when he slams the door to his car in the parking lot.
"What? Why?"
"'Cause he was looking at you!"
Hannah, in the back seat, groans and says, "Here we go."
"I'm not gonna let you go around the city with some guy who looks like he wants to fuck you!" Noah shouts.
Rachel turns to him. "You realize you have a 14 year old girl in your car right now, right?" she asks. Hannah laughs and he looks over his shoulder at her.
"Hannah, back me up here."
Hannah shrugs. "He's kinda right. Guy was a total douche."
Rachel huffs and rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. How dare they? She's getting a taste of what it'll be like to live with the two of them (not that she doesn't already know).
They don't say anything more about it until he's got her in his arms and Hannah's not around. "Just be careful," he says to her. She nods and leans against him. "And don't cheat on me."
It's a total joke and she's aware of it, but she hits him anyway as they both laugh, because she thinks he probably deserves it.
(They both know she never would.)
... ... ...
So maybe the guy's a douche, but he finds them the perfect house in an awesome neighbourhood, and when Rachel calls him after emailing him the listing and details, she's so fucking excited that he just wants to keep her this happy for as long as he can. They put in an offer and she loses her mind when it's accepted.
"Dude, she's nuts," Hannah whispers as they all talk on speaker. There are boxes of things packed all around and she's shaking her head. He can't really disagree, though.
Their first night in their new house, they sleep on a mattress on the floor after too much champagne. Rachel's pressed all up against him, wearing nothing but his shirt, and the only thing he can really think of that would make this situation any better is if there were rings on their fingers.
The thing is, he doesn't even know when that happened. Sure, he's thought about it along the way, basically since the beginning, how easy she makes it to want her for, like, all time, but lately he's been thinking they should make all this official and she should just be his wife. He knows she'd say yes if he asked - he's known that since that first night he told her he loves her - and he really should. They've spent enough time fucking around, and now they're in the same place and it's all serious. He wants to make an honest woman of her. He also knows that if he never asked her, she'd never leave him, and weirdly, that just makes him want to ask her even more.
"Rach," he says as she wakes up in the morning. "Rachel." She lets out a purring sound and moves her leg up over his. She rubs her eye and he pushes the hair away from her face. "How much do you love me?"
He hates himself. What kind of stupid fucking question is that? And he already knows, and she's probably going to think he's a loser for even asking.
Only what she does is move her hand up to his face before taking his earlobe between her thumb and forefinger, and kiss along his jaw before pushing herself up so she's straddling him.
This is a really weird role reversal, and he's loving it.
"I could tell you," she says, pushing his boxers down off his hips. She brushes her hand against him and he's already basically dying. "Or I could show you. Which would you prefer?"
She's grinning all sexily, which is amazing since she's probably still half asleep. He reaches up and sinks his hand into the hair at the back of her head and pulls her down to him. She grinds against him and he moans right before her lips are on his, and he says, "Both." She knows he knows, but she grins anyway and pulls the shirt she's wearing up over her head. "Goddammit, Rachel."
Part of him wants to get her under him and press into her and just fucking take her, but if she wants to show him, he's going to let her.
She swivels her hips and settles over him in a way that must feel amazing for her, if the way her eyes drop closed is any indication. She's wet and warm, and she moans softly when his thumbs graze her nipples.
"Noah," she whispers. She stills herself, puts her hands on his wrists to stop him from touching her tits. Well, his hands are still there, but he's ready to pay attention to what she's going to say. "I will never, ever love anyone else."
He grins at her, moves his hips a little and fuck, she's the best woman. "Just me?" he asks needlessly. His heart is absolutely racing, but he thinks it feels really fucking good.
She lets go of his wrists, lifts herself up and he slips into her, and she leans down and kisses him slowly as she rotates her hips. "Only ever you."
"Fuck," he groans, grabbing onto her hips. He wants her to show him now (not that he needs her to, but she promised) and when he tells her that, she just licks her lips slowly and leans back, which sends him deeper.
She stops when they're both near the brink, asks him the same question he asked her, and he gives her an answer that makes this throaty noise leave her mouth. He rolls her over and hitches her leg up, his arm under her knee, and tells her he's never fucking letting anyone else have her. She comes completely undone under him, takes him with her, and when they're in the shower together, he presses himself against her back and grabs ahold of her left hand with his.
"We're getting married," he says into her ear, lips grazing her earlobe as water falls on them.
She just nods, so he thinks he'll start looking for a ring.
... ... ...
She never thought she got stage fright, but she finds, the night of her debut, that she can barely breathe and her hair won't stay the way she wants it, and all she can think of is the dream she had last week where she forgot all her lines and she was laughed off the stage. She's just starting her career and she cannot afford a bad review. She needs to be perfect, and her director had to tell her as much - as if she didn't know on her own - an hour before the curtain is set to raise.
So she calls Noah in a panic and he asks her what is wrong with her. He doesn't sound impressed with her. She knows he hates it when she doubts her talents, but she needs him to reassure her right now.
"What if..."
"Shut the fuck up," he says harshly. "You're amazing, but you're an idiot if you think you can't do this. Man up, take your fucking cue, and blow this shit away like you know you can."
This is why she loves him. Anyone else would have babied her and fed her ego. He's not going to do that. He knows she doesn't need it. She hangs up without saying anything, but texts him a thank you so he doesn't think she's mad at him.
She takes a deep breath before her first scene, knows he's in the audience watching her, and sets out to prove that he was right. She can do this.
The reviews come out the next day and there's only one that's less than favourable. Hannah is more angry than Rachel is, takes the paper and reads it for herself, then throws it right into the trash. Noah laughs, sets his hand on Rachel's leg beneath the table and says, "Told you."
Sometimes she hates how smug he can be when he's right. Now is not one of those times.
"Yes, you did."
... ... ...
He takes the day off for Hannah's first day of school, and it's a Monday so Rachel doesn't work either. It's nice to just be with her at home and not have to worry about how loud he can make her when they're together. Hannah's made a couple friends through temple, but it's not like she's some kind of social butterfly yet, even if she's been to the movies a couple times with a few girls who go to the same school she's going to. Rachel talks about it being good that she knows people, but whatever. He doesn't care if she finds her math class before the bell rings. He cares that she makes some friends so he can have some Friday nights with his girl without a teenager in the house.
They get up to see Hannah off and make sure she gets to the bus on time. Rachel makes breakfast and Puck gives the girl a $10 for lunch and tells her not to be a bitch and make any enemies.
As soon as she's out the door, he's grabbing Rachel, 'cause it feels like ages since he had her somewhere other than their bed. Not like they don't use that often enough, but sometimes he wants to change things up a little bit, you know?
He also has a ring in a drawer in their bedroom (one she never goes in) and he plans on giving it to her after he, you know, gives it to her.
He's fucking stupid for her and it's common knowledge. When Finn and Brittany came to see them in their new place Finn pulled him aside and commented on how 'real' it was. Puck made some joke, asking if Finn thought it was make believe before or something. But yeah, it's kind of true that he's never done anything like this with anyone. He's been doing it with Rachel for, like, ever, really.
Anyway, the second time she's begging him to just give it to her, she ends up with her ass pressed against their dresser and her legs around his waist, and she's naked and wet against him, and he pulls open the drawer to her left and grabs the navy blue box from inside. She pulls her lips away from his neck so she can see what he's doing, and then holds him tighter and presses her face against his shoulder. He ends up putting the box against her, his knuckles grazing her hip as he clutches the box, because he has to steady her somehow.
"Rachel," he laughs, pushing her away. She's got her eyes closed tight, and this nervous little look on her face for some reason. "I gotta ask you."
"No," she says. She shakes her head and bites her lip and breathes all heavily. "You don't."
He knows she's not telling him not to ask, she's telling him they both know what the answer is.
So he just pops the box open and pulls the ring out, slips it onto her finger and she doesn't even look at it before she puts her arm back over his shoulder and kisses him hard. She throws her head back and practically yells his name when he pushes his fingers into her without warning. Fuck, he'll never get sick of this. He never will. He loves being with her, loves the noises she makes and how she says his name and responds to him. She's clutching his shoulder and he can feel the ring on her hand, which he thinks he's imagining, 'cause how's that possible? But then she moves her hand, and he still feels it, and he tells her to come, begs her to and tells her he fucking loves her and every second of this, and she keens his name and wraps her leg around him as she lets go.
It's not until he's got her on their bed so he can (shut up) make love to her that she even notices the ring. She's got her hand against his chest as he presses into her. He's barely inside her and she gasps, which gets his attention. She's looking at her hand and he sinks in the rest of the way.
"Noah, god," she says, sighing. He doesn't move. "It's gorgeous."
He's so fucking proud to have picked that out all on his own, and he grins and kisses her, moves his lips down the hollow of her throat and asks her if she likes it.
She says yes and he doesn't know if she's talking about the ring or the sex, but the answer's the same for both, so it doesn't matter.
... ... ...
She can't stop looking at the ring, which is dangerous because he practically tackles her any time he catches her doing it.
Okay, maybe she does it on purpose once or twice.
"I can't believe we're getting married," she says one night when he's half asleep and she's wide awake. He mumbles something and she turns to him. "It just feels surreal."
He slides his hand over her hip and presses his face against her. "Believe it," he mumbles. "Love you and you're mine."
She laughs and tangles their legs together. "You're very sweet," she tells him, kissing his jaw until he moans. He grasps her thigh with his hand and wedges his knee between her thighs. "I love you, too."
"I know."
She spins her ring on her finger and he grabs her wrists, pushing them up over her head and holding them there.
"We'll never get out of bed if you keep this up," she says. She's about to laugh, but he latches onto her earlobe (that's her move and he's stealing it; but god, it feels good). "Noah."
"I like this bed," he tells her. She can feel him hardening against the front of the little pair of shorts she's wearing. "'S'a good bed."
He's not really making sense, but it's hard to care when he kisses her and rests his lower half against hers.
They go see her dads and they say something about knowing it all along. It's certainly not a surprise, she supposes. And then they mention how happy Aviva would be, and her dad pats Noah on the shoulder, and he squeezes her hand because they've already talked about this.
They're sleeping in her childhood room, and before bed that night she's brushing her teeth and he's just spit out his mouthwash, and he says, "She loved you, you know."
She smiles and spits her toothpaste into the sink. "I know," she says quietly. "I loved her, too."
"She knew I'd marry you." She rolls her eyes at him in the mirror, and when she sees the look on his face she knows he's not lying. "She was smart."
She laughs, turns around and wraps her arms around his waist. "She was amazing."
He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers. "Fuck, I love you."
She loves how much he says it.
... ... ...
He asked if she wanted to do this in Chicago, since it's their new home and everything, but she shook her head and told him that no, the dress she bought is perfect for their temple.
"You already bought a dress?" he asks, 'cause he had no fucking idea. "What's it like?"
She laughs and shakes her head, dodges him when he tries to grab her waist. He smiles, 'cause she's been fucking adorable and perfect (more than ever) the last few weeks as they started to plan this shit and she started showing off her ring to everyone she knows (or doesn't know, in some cases).
"I'm not telling. It's a secret," she says, pushing at him when he comes closer again.
"It's awesome and she looks amazing in it," Hannah says from the kitchen table, where she's sitting with her iPod on (apparently not loudly) and working on something for her art class.
"Baby, tell me," he begs. Rachel's busy glaring at Hannah, though. "Come on. I'mma marry you, so you should tell me."
Rachel laughs and turns to give him a look that clearly says he's pathetic. "That's exactly why I shouldn't tell you."
"You know what I'm wearing!"
"That's because I refused to let you wear your Converse with your suit!" He shrugs his shoulder and she finally lets him wrap his arms around her, rest his chin on her shoulder. "I'm not telling you."
"Then you can't be my wife," he pouts.
She laughs again and turns her head, raises her brows at him. "Sure," she says like she totally doesn't believe him at all.
Good.
She shouldn't.
... ... ...
She watches him as everyone watches her. He's just staring at her and he smiles, looks down and shakes his head, but then immediately looks back at her. She's having a hard time walking as slowly as she has to.
He doesn't let go of her hand the whole ceremony, and she loves him for it. When she pushes the ring onto his finger, he leans in to kiss her and she leans away, and their friends and families laugh at him. He doesn't even blush, just looks right at her and smiles.
He kisses her after he breaks the glass, grabs her around the waist and she laughs into his mouth, puts her hand on his face and lets him kiss her until she deems it inappropriate and pulls away.
They're escorted to their rabbi's study for a few minutes alone before everyone goes to the reception hall. Noah has his hands on her immediately and kisses her, feels the lace of her dress under his palms and groans against her lips.
Her dress is perfect. It's simple, lace over white satin, cut down tastefully between her breasts with two wide straps over her shoulders. She's wearing white Louboutins her fathers spent far too much money on, and a pearl necklace of Hannah's that belonged to Aviva. Her vail falls to the small of her back and her hair is down and curled at the ends like she knows he's always loved.
When he doesn't stop kissing her, she questions what, exactly, he's trying to accomplish right now.
"Noah." She laughs and arches her back, pulling away from him. He just sets his hands on her hips and grins at her. His eyes fall to her chest and she's not surprised at all. She knew he'd love the plunging neckline.
"We have time." She gasps and she knows how wide her eyes go. "We gotta consummate. I read it on Wikipedia."
"Oh, my god. Noah, I'm not sleeping with you at our temple!"
He grins slowly and pulls her so she's close to him again. "No one said anything about sleeping."
She shakes her head but lets him kiss her, and she thinks he's half serious, but that he knows she's not going to let him do anything inappropriate to her right now.
Not until tonight when they get to their hotel room.
(God, she can't wait.)
"I can't believe you wore sneakers," she tells him, glaring jokingly.
He laughs and wraps her up in his arms. "They're brand new. Bought 'em special."
She scoffs and pulls away, looks up at him and feels his hand slide up her back to where her dress stops. There are little covered buttons all the way down the back of the dress and he starts toying with one.
"I bought a $3500 wedding dress and you spent $50 on a new pair of shoes," she states, hand on hip.
"And bought a new suit." She giggles and he kisses her before she can catch her breath. "Love you."
"I love you, too." She pecks at his lips and takes a deep breath. "Come on. We have to go. I want to show you off as my husband to all these women who no doubt wanted to set you up with their daughters."
His hands dig into her hips and he says, "Call me that again."
"What?" she asks coyly, running her hand down his tie under the guise of straightening it. "My husband?"
She has to open the door because she doesn't trust him to be able to control himself.
... ... ...
He doesn't so much as 'wake up' and realize she's his wife, but the curtains are open and they've been up all night and he realizes it's morning. And that she's his wife.
"Hey," he says, running his hand through her now-messy hair.
"Noah, not again," she whines. "I can't. I physically can't."
He grins and leans over to kiss her cheek. "Awesome, but it's not that," he says. She turns pink and looks at him expectantly. "This is crazy."
She laughs and puts her hand under her cheek so she can see him better. "What?"
"You ever think that first summer?" He doesn't finish because he doesn't have to. And he's really fucking tired and it's like, 6:00 a.m. or something and he's been awake for a good 24 hours.
"No," she laughs. "I broke up with you."
He glares at her. "Oh, yeah."
She moves closer as she laughs, leans against him and he trails his hand up her side until it's resting against her ribs. "I shouldn't have," she admits for the first time.
"Doesn't matter."
She sighs and closes her eyes, presses herself against him and kisses his chest, right over his heart. He'd complain, but she's sentimental like that and he doesn't hate it at all.
"I don't like to think of the time before I loved you," she says sleepily.
He kisses her forehead, closes his eyes and wraps his fingers around her hand, toys with her rings.
"So don't."
She falls asleep easily in this position, and he lets out a breath and opens his eyes, catches sight of her dress in the room. It's carefully laid over the chair in the corner because she wants to keep it. She didn't say why, but it doesn't matter. He'll give her whatever she wants, and it was nothing to him to make sure he was gentle with it. She looked fucking incredible in it and he doesn't think he'll ever forget how he felt when he saw her walking towards him. He'll never tell anyone, maybe not even her, because it's his own little memory from their wedding. He's sure she's got a couple of her own.
He's thought about their past a lot in the last couple days. The guys took him out for beers and practically asked for the whole story, so he told them as much as he felt comfortable telling. Fuck, he's been through the world with this girl and he's signing himself up for more.
They're supposed to leave for their honeymoon in a matter of hours, and she'll probably freak out when she wakes up and realizes it. Right now, he's just going to let her sleep. Partly because she needs it, and partly because he just really loves the feel of her in his arms.
He's just about asleep when he feels her little hand drifting between them, her lips on his jaw and her tiny voice saying, "I just can't help it," like he's asked her what changed between 15 minutes ago and now. She wraps her hand around him, and yeah, he's fucking exhausted, but he has no intentions of stopping her. "I just love you." She kisses him and pushes him onto his back. "So much."
"We can sleep in Aruba," he teases, nipping at her lips. She laughs and gives him a doubtful look. He chuckles softly. Yeah, probably not. "We can sleep when we get back."
"Maybe," she says all seductively. He rolls her beneath him and it traps her hand against his pelvis. "If I let you."
He pulls her hand away, kisses her lazily and slowly, reminds her that they've got to leave soon. She tells him she doesn't care and that he can definitely get her off at least three more times before they have to start getting ready to check out and head to the airport.
When they get to their hotel in Aruba, he's carrying their bags and comes up behind her at the front desk just in time to hear her say, "Noah and Rachel Puckerman," and he can barely control himself until they're inside their room.
... ... ...
"You ever think maybe we're kind of awesome together?" he asks one night when they're on the balcony of their suite and she's got her head on his lap and he's playing with her fingers.
It's obviously a ridiculous question and she glances up at him to see him looking out over the water, a little grin on his lips.
"Once or twice."
He laughs, cards his fingers through her hair and says, "Me, too."
"Remember when you didn't want to date me?"
She watches him look down at her like she's being stupid. "No," he answers, and she thinks that, in some way, he's telling the truth.
They're quiet for a bit as she thinks about it, how the timing was always terrible and they both did stupid things that prevented them from being together. She remembers the first time she admitted she liked him, the first time she called him her boyfriend and the first time she told him she loved him. Now she's calling him her husband at every chance she gets, and it's a novelty she thinks will never wear off.
She thinks of how she wanted to cut him out of her life that first summer when she dated him and ended it, thinking it'd be harder to maintain a relationship. If only she'd known then what she knows now.
"Sorry I broke up with you. Twice," she says. She's smiling up at him mostly because she knows his response to this statement is bound to be hilarious and just make her fall in love with him more, which, surprisingly, she's finding is entirely possible.
"Yeah, thanks a lot," he says, raising his brow and glancing down at her. She giggles and loops her arm around his. He's got his hand resting on her stomach now, so she slides her hand up his arm. "Just don't do it again."
She laughs far louder than she should, but really, does he think she will?
She pushes herself off the loveseat they've been sitting on, stands and holds out her hands as she looks down at him and he smiles up at her.
"Let me make it up to you."
"I think you did that when you married me," he says, sliding his hand up her body and letting his thumb move against the side of her breast.
She lets out a whimper and looks down to see him looking far too proud, considering he's made her make that exact sound a million times before. Maybe not so much with words, though.
"I can't tell you how much I love being your wife," she admits breathily.
He stands, circles his arms around her waist and starts pushing her back into their room.
"Try."
Chapter: 13/13
Rating: R
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: He's never really missed a girl before. He never cared enough, really, to miss anyone.
Word Count: 5,300
Disclaimer: Don't own.
She lives in a lonely Chicago hotel room, paid for by the production company. She goes to workshops and little rehearsals and one night has drinks with the core cast, but for the most part, she just goes back to her hotel room and does as much as possible to not feel so completely alone.
Noah tells her she's crazy when she tells him that. She's in a new city and there's so many things to do for the move, but she's not doing any of them. She's already chosen the furniture for their living room, and she's getting a gorgeous oak table from her grandmother for the dining room.
They just have to find a house. Their realtor is a nice woman, but she keeps giving them listings either out of their price range or not at all what they want. It starts a huge fight one day because Rachel asks where on earth he found this awful realtor and he gets offended. She can understand why, so she apologizes quickly, but still. It's tense, trying to get everything done and just get he and Hannah to Chicago already.
They come to visit her for a weekend to look at houses. Rachel's just so happy to see both of them that it's hard to focus on what they're actually supposed to be doing.
She still manages to 'fire' their realtor.
Honestly, though, a one bedroom condo in downtown Chicago is not at all even remotely close to what they've been talking about, and Rachel decides that since this is the third awful place they've seen today, that maybe Rebecca can and should be replaced. She gives a pretty epic speech, takes Hannah by the hand and storms out of the condo. She's halfway to the elevator when Noah catches up to them, and Hannah is laughing so hard it actually makes Rachel smile. Noah throws his arm around her and kisses her cheek, tells her she's insane and then asks her if she has any idea who they can buy a damn house from now that they don't have a realtor.
Oh. Right. She didn't entirely think that part through. Realtors aren't hard to come by, are they? She has him pull into the closest real estate office and they end up finding a new agent that day, who promises them he'll help them find the perfect house.
"I don't like him," Noah mumbles when he slams the door to his car in the parking lot.
"What? Why?"
"'Cause he was looking at you!"
Hannah, in the back seat, groans and says, "Here we go."
"I'm not gonna let you go around the city with some guy who looks like he wants to fuck you!" Noah shouts.
Rachel turns to him. "You realize you have a 14 year old girl in your car right now, right?" she asks. Hannah laughs and he looks over his shoulder at her.
"Hannah, back me up here."
Hannah shrugs. "He's kinda right. Guy was a total douche."
Rachel huffs and rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. How dare they? She's getting a taste of what it'll be like to live with the two of them (not that she doesn't already know).
They don't say anything more about it until he's got her in his arms and Hannah's not around. "Just be careful," he says to her. She nods and leans against him. "And don't cheat on me."
It's a total joke and she's aware of it, but she hits him anyway as they both laugh, because she thinks he probably deserves it.
(They both know she never would.)
... ... ...
So maybe the guy's a douche, but he finds them the perfect house in an awesome neighbourhood, and when Rachel calls him after emailing him the listing and details, she's so fucking excited that he just wants to keep her this happy for as long as he can. They put in an offer and she loses her mind when it's accepted.
"Dude, she's nuts," Hannah whispers as they all talk on speaker. There are boxes of things packed all around and she's shaking her head. He can't really disagree, though.
Their first night in their new house, they sleep on a mattress on the floor after too much champagne. Rachel's pressed all up against him, wearing nothing but his shirt, and the only thing he can really think of that would make this situation any better is if there were rings on their fingers.
The thing is, he doesn't even know when that happened. Sure, he's thought about it along the way, basically since the beginning, how easy she makes it to want her for, like, all time, but lately he's been thinking they should make all this official and she should just be his wife. He knows she'd say yes if he asked - he's known that since that first night he told her he loves her - and he really should. They've spent enough time fucking around, and now they're in the same place and it's all serious. He wants to make an honest woman of her. He also knows that if he never asked her, she'd never leave him, and weirdly, that just makes him want to ask her even more.
"Rach," he says as she wakes up in the morning. "Rachel." She lets out a purring sound and moves her leg up over his. She rubs her eye and he pushes the hair away from her face. "How much do you love me?"
He hates himself. What kind of stupid fucking question is that? And he already knows, and she's probably going to think he's a loser for even asking.
Only what she does is move her hand up to his face before taking his earlobe between her thumb and forefinger, and kiss along his jaw before pushing herself up so she's straddling him.
This is a really weird role reversal, and he's loving it.
"I could tell you," she says, pushing his boxers down off his hips. She brushes her hand against him and he's already basically dying. "Or I could show you. Which would you prefer?"
She's grinning all sexily, which is amazing since she's probably still half asleep. He reaches up and sinks his hand into the hair at the back of her head and pulls her down to him. She grinds against him and he moans right before her lips are on his, and he says, "Both." She knows he knows, but she grins anyway and pulls the shirt she's wearing up over her head. "Goddammit, Rachel."
Part of him wants to get her under him and press into her and just fucking take her, but if she wants to show him, he's going to let her.
She swivels her hips and settles over him in a way that must feel amazing for her, if the way her eyes drop closed is any indication. She's wet and warm, and she moans softly when his thumbs graze her nipples.
"Noah," she whispers. She stills herself, puts her hands on his wrists to stop him from touching her tits. Well, his hands are still there, but he's ready to pay attention to what she's going to say. "I will never, ever love anyone else."
He grins at her, moves his hips a little and fuck, she's the best woman. "Just me?" he asks needlessly. His heart is absolutely racing, but he thinks it feels really fucking good.
She lets go of his wrists, lifts herself up and he slips into her, and she leans down and kisses him slowly as she rotates her hips. "Only ever you."
"Fuck," he groans, grabbing onto her hips. He wants her to show him now (not that he needs her to, but she promised) and when he tells her that, she just licks her lips slowly and leans back, which sends him deeper.
She stops when they're both near the brink, asks him the same question he asked her, and he gives her an answer that makes this throaty noise leave her mouth. He rolls her over and hitches her leg up, his arm under her knee, and tells her he's never fucking letting anyone else have her. She comes completely undone under him, takes him with her, and when they're in the shower together, he presses himself against her back and grabs ahold of her left hand with his.
"We're getting married," he says into her ear, lips grazing her earlobe as water falls on them.
She just nods, so he thinks he'll start looking for a ring.
... ... ...
She never thought she got stage fright, but she finds, the night of her debut, that she can barely breathe and her hair won't stay the way she wants it, and all she can think of is the dream she had last week where she forgot all her lines and she was laughed off the stage. She's just starting her career and she cannot afford a bad review. She needs to be perfect, and her director had to tell her as much - as if she didn't know on her own - an hour before the curtain is set to raise.
So she calls Noah in a panic and he asks her what is wrong with her. He doesn't sound impressed with her. She knows he hates it when she doubts her talents, but she needs him to reassure her right now.
"What if..."
"Shut the fuck up," he says harshly. "You're amazing, but you're an idiot if you think you can't do this. Man up, take your fucking cue, and blow this shit away like you know you can."
This is why she loves him. Anyone else would have babied her and fed her ego. He's not going to do that. He knows she doesn't need it. She hangs up without saying anything, but texts him a thank you so he doesn't think she's mad at him.
She takes a deep breath before her first scene, knows he's in the audience watching her, and sets out to prove that he was right. She can do this.
The reviews come out the next day and there's only one that's less than favourable. Hannah is more angry than Rachel is, takes the paper and reads it for herself, then throws it right into the trash. Noah laughs, sets his hand on Rachel's leg beneath the table and says, "Told you."
Sometimes she hates how smug he can be when he's right. Now is not one of those times.
"Yes, you did."
... ... ...
He takes the day off for Hannah's first day of school, and it's a Monday so Rachel doesn't work either. It's nice to just be with her at home and not have to worry about how loud he can make her when they're together. Hannah's made a couple friends through temple, but it's not like she's some kind of social butterfly yet, even if she's been to the movies a couple times with a few girls who go to the same school she's going to. Rachel talks about it being good that she knows people, but whatever. He doesn't care if she finds her math class before the bell rings. He cares that she makes some friends so he can have some Friday nights with his girl without a teenager in the house.
They get up to see Hannah off and make sure she gets to the bus on time. Rachel makes breakfast and Puck gives the girl a $10 for lunch and tells her not to be a bitch and make any enemies.
As soon as she's out the door, he's grabbing Rachel, 'cause it feels like ages since he had her somewhere other than their bed. Not like they don't use that often enough, but sometimes he wants to change things up a little bit, you know?
He also has a ring in a drawer in their bedroom (one she never goes in) and he plans on giving it to her after he, you know, gives it to her.
He's fucking stupid for her and it's common knowledge. When Finn and Brittany came to see them in their new place Finn pulled him aside and commented on how 'real' it was. Puck made some joke, asking if Finn thought it was make believe before or something. But yeah, it's kind of true that he's never done anything like this with anyone. He's been doing it with Rachel for, like, ever, really.
Anyway, the second time she's begging him to just give it to her, she ends up with her ass pressed against their dresser and her legs around his waist, and she's naked and wet against him, and he pulls open the drawer to her left and grabs the navy blue box from inside. She pulls her lips away from his neck so she can see what he's doing, and then holds him tighter and presses her face against his shoulder. He ends up putting the box against her, his knuckles grazing her hip as he clutches the box, because he has to steady her somehow.
"Rachel," he laughs, pushing her away. She's got her eyes closed tight, and this nervous little look on her face for some reason. "I gotta ask you."
"No," she says. She shakes her head and bites her lip and breathes all heavily. "You don't."
He knows she's not telling him not to ask, she's telling him they both know what the answer is.
So he just pops the box open and pulls the ring out, slips it onto her finger and she doesn't even look at it before she puts her arm back over his shoulder and kisses him hard. She throws her head back and practically yells his name when he pushes his fingers into her without warning. Fuck, he'll never get sick of this. He never will. He loves being with her, loves the noises she makes and how she says his name and responds to him. She's clutching his shoulder and he can feel the ring on her hand, which he thinks he's imagining, 'cause how's that possible? But then she moves her hand, and he still feels it, and he tells her to come, begs her to and tells her he fucking loves her and every second of this, and she keens his name and wraps her leg around him as she lets go.
It's not until he's got her on their bed so he can (shut up) make love to her that she even notices the ring. She's got her hand against his chest as he presses into her. He's barely inside her and she gasps, which gets his attention. She's looking at her hand and he sinks in the rest of the way.
"Noah, god," she says, sighing. He doesn't move. "It's gorgeous."
He's so fucking proud to have picked that out all on his own, and he grins and kisses her, moves his lips down the hollow of her throat and asks her if she likes it.
She says yes and he doesn't know if she's talking about the ring or the sex, but the answer's the same for both, so it doesn't matter.
... ... ...
She can't stop looking at the ring, which is dangerous because he practically tackles her any time he catches her doing it.
Okay, maybe she does it on purpose once or twice.
"I can't believe we're getting married," she says one night when he's half asleep and she's wide awake. He mumbles something and she turns to him. "It just feels surreal."
He slides his hand over her hip and presses his face against her. "Believe it," he mumbles. "Love you and you're mine."
She laughs and tangles their legs together. "You're very sweet," she tells him, kissing his jaw until he moans. He grasps her thigh with his hand and wedges his knee between her thighs. "I love you, too."
"I know."
She spins her ring on her finger and he grabs her wrists, pushing them up over her head and holding them there.
"We'll never get out of bed if you keep this up," she says. She's about to laugh, but he latches onto her earlobe (that's her move and he's stealing it; but god, it feels good). "Noah."
"I like this bed," he tells her. She can feel him hardening against the front of the little pair of shorts she's wearing. "'S'a good bed."
He's not really making sense, but it's hard to care when he kisses her and rests his lower half against hers.
They go see her dads and they say something about knowing it all along. It's certainly not a surprise, she supposes. And then they mention how happy Aviva would be, and her dad pats Noah on the shoulder, and he squeezes her hand because they've already talked about this.
They're sleeping in her childhood room, and before bed that night she's brushing her teeth and he's just spit out his mouthwash, and he says, "She loved you, you know."
She smiles and spits her toothpaste into the sink. "I know," she says quietly. "I loved her, too."
"She knew I'd marry you." She rolls her eyes at him in the mirror, and when she sees the look on his face she knows he's not lying. "She was smart."
She laughs, turns around and wraps her arms around his waist. "She was amazing."
He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers. "Fuck, I love you."
She loves how much he says it.
... ... ...
He asked if she wanted to do this in Chicago, since it's their new home and everything, but she shook her head and told him that no, the dress she bought is perfect for their temple.
"You already bought a dress?" he asks, 'cause he had no fucking idea. "What's it like?"
She laughs and shakes her head, dodges him when he tries to grab her waist. He smiles, 'cause she's been fucking adorable and perfect (more than ever) the last few weeks as they started to plan this shit and she started showing off her ring to everyone she knows (or doesn't know, in some cases).
"I'm not telling. It's a secret," she says, pushing at him when he comes closer again.
"It's awesome and she looks amazing in it," Hannah says from the kitchen table, where she's sitting with her iPod on (apparently not loudly) and working on something for her art class.
"Baby, tell me," he begs. Rachel's busy glaring at Hannah, though. "Come on. I'mma marry you, so you should tell me."
Rachel laughs and turns to give him a look that clearly says he's pathetic. "That's exactly why I shouldn't tell you."
"You know what I'm wearing!"
"That's because I refused to let you wear your Converse with your suit!" He shrugs his shoulder and she finally lets him wrap his arms around her, rest his chin on her shoulder. "I'm not telling you."
"Then you can't be my wife," he pouts.
She laughs again and turns her head, raises her brows at him. "Sure," she says like she totally doesn't believe him at all.
Good.
She shouldn't.
... ... ...
She watches him as everyone watches her. He's just staring at her and he smiles, looks down and shakes his head, but then immediately looks back at her. She's having a hard time walking as slowly as she has to.
He doesn't let go of her hand the whole ceremony, and she loves him for it. When she pushes the ring onto his finger, he leans in to kiss her and she leans away, and their friends and families laugh at him. He doesn't even blush, just looks right at her and smiles.
He kisses her after he breaks the glass, grabs her around the waist and she laughs into his mouth, puts her hand on his face and lets him kiss her until she deems it inappropriate and pulls away.
They're escorted to their rabbi's study for a few minutes alone before everyone goes to the reception hall. Noah has his hands on her immediately and kisses her, feels the lace of her dress under his palms and groans against her lips.
Her dress is perfect. It's simple, lace over white satin, cut down tastefully between her breasts with two wide straps over her shoulders. She's wearing white Louboutins her fathers spent far too much money on, and a pearl necklace of Hannah's that belonged to Aviva. Her vail falls to the small of her back and her hair is down and curled at the ends like she knows he's always loved.
When he doesn't stop kissing her, she questions what, exactly, he's trying to accomplish right now.
"Noah." She laughs and arches her back, pulling away from him. He just sets his hands on her hips and grins at her. His eyes fall to her chest and she's not surprised at all. She knew he'd love the plunging neckline.
"We have time." She gasps and she knows how wide her eyes go. "We gotta consummate. I read it on Wikipedia."
"Oh, my god. Noah, I'm not sleeping with you at our temple!"
He grins slowly and pulls her so she's close to him again. "No one said anything about sleeping."
She shakes her head but lets him kiss her, and she thinks he's half serious, but that he knows she's not going to let him do anything inappropriate to her right now.
Not until tonight when they get to their hotel room.
(God, she can't wait.)
"I can't believe you wore sneakers," she tells him, glaring jokingly.
He laughs and wraps her up in his arms. "They're brand new. Bought 'em special."
She scoffs and pulls away, looks up at him and feels his hand slide up her back to where her dress stops. There are little covered buttons all the way down the back of the dress and he starts toying with one.
"I bought a $3500 wedding dress and you spent $50 on a new pair of shoes," she states, hand on hip.
"And bought a new suit." She giggles and he kisses her before she can catch her breath. "Love you."
"I love you, too." She pecks at his lips and takes a deep breath. "Come on. We have to go. I want to show you off as my husband to all these women who no doubt wanted to set you up with their daughters."
His hands dig into her hips and he says, "Call me that again."
"What?" she asks coyly, running her hand down his tie under the guise of straightening it. "My husband?"
She has to open the door because she doesn't trust him to be able to control himself.
... ... ...
He doesn't so much as 'wake up' and realize she's his wife, but the curtains are open and they've been up all night and he realizes it's morning. And that she's his wife.
"Hey," he says, running his hand through her now-messy hair.
"Noah, not again," she whines. "I can't. I physically can't."
He grins and leans over to kiss her cheek. "Awesome, but it's not that," he says. She turns pink and looks at him expectantly. "This is crazy."
She laughs and puts her hand under her cheek so she can see him better. "What?"
"You ever think that first summer?" He doesn't finish because he doesn't have to. And he's really fucking tired and it's like, 6:00 a.m. or something and he's been awake for a good 24 hours.
"No," she laughs. "I broke up with you."
He glares at her. "Oh, yeah."
She moves closer as she laughs, leans against him and he trails his hand up her side until it's resting against her ribs. "I shouldn't have," she admits for the first time.
"Doesn't matter."
She sighs and closes her eyes, presses herself against him and kisses his chest, right over his heart. He'd complain, but she's sentimental like that and he doesn't hate it at all.
"I don't like to think of the time before I loved you," she says sleepily.
He kisses her forehead, closes his eyes and wraps his fingers around her hand, toys with her rings.
"So don't."
She falls asleep easily in this position, and he lets out a breath and opens his eyes, catches sight of her dress in the room. It's carefully laid over the chair in the corner because she wants to keep it. She didn't say why, but it doesn't matter. He'll give her whatever she wants, and it was nothing to him to make sure he was gentle with it. She looked fucking incredible in it and he doesn't think he'll ever forget how he felt when he saw her walking towards him. He'll never tell anyone, maybe not even her, because it's his own little memory from their wedding. He's sure she's got a couple of her own.
He's thought about their past a lot in the last couple days. The guys took him out for beers and practically asked for the whole story, so he told them as much as he felt comfortable telling. Fuck, he's been through the world with this girl and he's signing himself up for more.
They're supposed to leave for their honeymoon in a matter of hours, and she'll probably freak out when she wakes up and realizes it. Right now, he's just going to let her sleep. Partly because she needs it, and partly because he just really loves the feel of her in his arms.
He's just about asleep when he feels her little hand drifting between them, her lips on his jaw and her tiny voice saying, "I just can't help it," like he's asked her what changed between 15 minutes ago and now. She wraps her hand around him, and yeah, he's fucking exhausted, but he has no intentions of stopping her. "I just love you." She kisses him and pushes him onto his back. "So much."
"We can sleep in Aruba," he teases, nipping at her lips. She laughs and gives him a doubtful look. He chuckles softly. Yeah, probably not. "We can sleep when we get back."
"Maybe," she says all seductively. He rolls her beneath him and it traps her hand against his pelvis. "If I let you."
He pulls her hand away, kisses her lazily and slowly, reminds her that they've got to leave soon. She tells him she doesn't care and that he can definitely get her off at least three more times before they have to start getting ready to check out and head to the airport.
When they get to their hotel in Aruba, he's carrying their bags and comes up behind her at the front desk just in time to hear her say, "Noah and Rachel Puckerman," and he can barely control himself until they're inside their room.
... ... ...
"You ever think maybe we're kind of awesome together?" he asks one night when they're on the balcony of their suite and she's got her head on his lap and he's playing with her fingers.
It's obviously a ridiculous question and she glances up at him to see him looking out over the water, a little grin on his lips.
"Once or twice."
He laughs, cards his fingers through her hair and says, "Me, too."
"Remember when you didn't want to date me?"
She watches him look down at her like she's being stupid. "No," he answers, and she thinks that, in some way, he's telling the truth.
They're quiet for a bit as she thinks about it, how the timing was always terrible and they both did stupid things that prevented them from being together. She remembers the first time she admitted she liked him, the first time she called him her boyfriend and the first time she told him she loved him. Now she's calling him her husband at every chance she gets, and it's a novelty she thinks will never wear off.
She thinks of how she wanted to cut him out of her life that first summer when she dated him and ended it, thinking it'd be harder to maintain a relationship. If only she'd known then what she knows now.
"Sorry I broke up with you. Twice," she says. She's smiling up at him mostly because she knows his response to this statement is bound to be hilarious and just make her fall in love with him more, which, surprisingly, she's finding is entirely possible.
"Yeah, thanks a lot," he says, raising his brow and glancing down at her. She giggles and loops her arm around his. He's got his hand resting on her stomach now, so she slides her hand up his arm. "Just don't do it again."
She laughs far louder than she should, but really, does he think she will?
She pushes herself off the loveseat they've been sitting on, stands and holds out her hands as she looks down at him and he smiles up at her.
"Let me make it up to you."
"I think you did that when you married me," he says, sliding his hand up her body and letting his thumb move against the side of her breast.
She lets out a whimper and looks down to see him looking far too proud, considering he's made her make that exact sound a million times before. Maybe not so much with words, though.
"I can't tell you how much I love being your wife," she admits breathily.
He stands, circles his arms around her waist and starts pushing her back into their room.
"Try."