AN: I haven't uploaded anything in a while so I thought I'd upload this, um, drabble. I am working on a multi-chapter fic but I'm not posting any of it until it's all finished, because if I post chapter by chapter, I might lose interest then forget to update. So yeah. Anyway, this was written for a prompt on the PR Drabble meme on LJ. Idk why but everything I write turns quite fluffy near the end, ohhhhh well.
'You okay, babe?' Puck asked, peaking his head around the door cautiously. Rachel fixed him immediately with a glare, although it wasn't as terrifying as she wanted it to be. It's hard to look threatening when you're slung across the toilet bowl with heavy eyelids, surrounded by used tissues and empty bottles of water. She never gets sick, as in, never ever. It was probably all his fault, this guy from work came in full of Flu and passed it onto Puck who had, in turn, passed it onto Rachel.
Rolling her eyes at him idly she shook her head, and returned to resting her forehead against the plastic toilet seat. It might sound gross but since the girl is such a clean freak, she had resorted to bleaching the toilet between up-chucks and layering toilet roll to rest her chin against, even if it was a fruitless attempt. At least it smelt nice enough in there that he could sit beside her without wanting to spew himself. So, taking a seat beside her on the cold tile floor, he moved his hand to rub circles against her back.
'I feel terrible,' she whined pushing the hair from her face, 'And I'm uncomfortable, and my throat is burning.'
He rolled his eyes and shuffled closer to her, wrapping his arms around her body sideways and gently pulling her into his lap. Dropping his chin in the crook of her neck, and his large hands curving over her knees, squeezing them lightly. Rachel hummed dreamily, resting her hands on top of his, but groaning as she felt his lips skim along her neck, and his warm breath behind her ear, 'Noah, don't, I'm gross,' she muttered.
'Shut up,' he scoffed, stroking a single finger back and forth against the soft fabric of her pyjama bottoms,
'I'm serious,' she said, shifting in his lap and angling her head to look at him, 'I don't want you getting ill… again,'
While he looked back at her; those large and glassy brown eyes, her pink lips puckered in a childish pout and her long brunette hair tousled, it struck him. He loved this girl.
'I love you,' he blurted confidently, when almost immediately Rachel jerked forward out of his lap, and gripping the porcelain sink next to her she retched into the bowl. He scrambled to his feet and rushed to her, holding back her hair,
'Not the answer I was looking for,' he muttered, wincing at the noise and the sour smell. Taking a deep breath and wiping her lips, she looked at him and smiled weakly,
'I love you too,' she croaked. He always thought the first time he ever said the 'L' word to her would be a bit more special, like at a fancy dinner or something like that (don't ever say he's not romantic), but not once did he ever imagine it in her bathroom with her puking her guts up. Although, just hearing her relay the words back to him made the whole situation miles better.