Note: The rating of this story has gone up to M, and for a good reason. ;-)
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Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of it's characters and I am making no money writing this. It's just for fun. Title and summary taken from "Where I Stood" by Missy Higgins.
The next morning Quinn wakes up to a bowl of Cocoa Puffs, a cup of coffee with light cream, no sugar, and Puck staring at her from the kitchen doorway.
"They're still your favorite, right?" he asks softly.
"I can't believe you remember," she laughs gently, reaching for the coffee.
"Kinda hard to forget," he comments, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of her. "It was all you would eat for like, three weeks," he chuckles.
There's a moment, then. They both just look at each other and don't know what to say. Because, she showed up drunk last night and ran off his girlfriend. Because, he was finally allowed to look at her after living separately for so long.
Quinn pulls her eyes away from his and decides she needs to take the plunge and see where they stand.
"I saw Rachel leave last night," she says quietly, cradling the coffee cup close to her face.
She notices a look on his face when she says that, sees something flicker behind his eyes. But he just nods, says nothing.
"I thought you were going to wait?" she asks gently.
"I was. She...ended it," he says with a tone that makes it clear to her that the decision was final, on both their parts.
"Why?" Immediately after the question leaves her lips, she feels like an idiot. She knew why. Everything between Rachel and Noah had been fine until she came along, barging into their business and banging on his door in the middle of the night. But, he answers her anyway.
"She said we couldn't be together so long as you and me had...unresolved history."
Quinn remembers the look on Rachel's face as she was leaving the night before, and she immediately starts to tear up, feeling like she might drown in the guilt starting to wash over her.
"I never meant to hurt her," she says adamantly. "I just...wasn't thinking."
"Hey," he says, brushing a tear from her cheek. "I know you didn't mean to hurt her. Besides, Rachel's strong. She'll be alright."
Quinn realizes then what she only started to grasp the night before. She doesn't know how it took this long for her to get it. After all, looking back, she could see it building all the way from sophomore year of high school.
"You love her, don't you?" she asks quietly.
He shrugs, but says, "Not as much as I love you. But, yeah, I really care about her. I respect her."
That confession really hits home with Quinn. He respects Rachel. This is not the same Puck that she had to constantly watch and monitor, the one that chased anything in a skirt, the one that she never completely trusted. This is someone different. This is Noah.
"I'm sorry," she says quietly, setting the coffee aside, unable to meet his gaze.
He just sighs and gently lifts her chin to look into her eyes.
"I gotta let you in on a secret," he tells her, taking hold of her hand. "It's always been you. You with Finn, you with Sam, every other guy. I never really forgave myself for fucking things up the first time."
"You weren't really the problem," she tells him slowly. "It was just...too much. We were too young."
He nods, and she knows by the look in his eyes that the truth of those words still stings five years after the fact.
She tightens her grip around his hand and tells him, "You should really ease up on yourself. You've grown so much, and I am so proud of you."
He pulls her closer, kisses her for the first time in so long that she can't remember how much time has passed since the last time. It feels like coming home, and she wraps her arms around his neck, trying to drag the moment out for as long as possible.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
He backs her through the open door to his bedroom, kissing her hungrily. His kisses were something she had sorely missed in her time apart from him. Now, standing pressed against him with one of his hands tangled in her hair and the other gripping her ass, she remembers vividly the last time she was in this situation.
It was the day before Thanksgiving Break, freshman year of college. She was lonely, not fitting in the way she expected she would. So she'd gone to the only place she ever felt she belonged...his arms.
They'd had sex that night in his tiny university-provided bed, one of her hair ties hanging on the doorknob so his roommate wouldn't interrupt.
Afterwards, lying wrapped up in his blue plaid sheets, she felt like she had just made a huge mistake. It wasn't supposed to matter how good he made her feel, because he was all wrong for her. He was temptation, and once again, she had failed the test.
She knew she wouldn't feel like that this time. The past few months had been a painful reminder that the only thing that mattered was that he made her feel loved, and he was the only one that really understood her.
She kisses him back with just as much feeling, her tongue moving with his. He breaks away to bury his face in her neck and kiss his favorite spot, just behind her pulse point underneath her ear.
"Go lie down on the bed," she commands softly, kiss swollen lips brushing his ear.
He pulls back, surprised, but when she just raises one delicate eyebrow in response, he complies.
The bed never got made in the morning and the comforter was bunched down at the foot of the mattress, the sheets tossed off to one side. He makes his way over to the disheveled bed and reclines on the pillows piled up against the oak headboard.
"The sheets are clean, right?" she asks, getting a good look at the bed for the first time.
He chuckles softly, says, "Washed yesterday, and I'm the only one that's slept in them."
She smiles back at him for indulging her, and feels more sure about this than she had before, even though she didn't think that was possible.
They lock eyes for a long moment before she decides to take the plunge.
She slides Puck's boxers and her panties down her legs and suddenly she's standing in front of him in nothing but a McKinley Titans football shirt. She hears him sigh when she ducks her head and steps out of the pool of clothing.
She meets his eyes for a second and blushes, her navy blue toenails digging into his carpet anxiously.
Quinn carefully climbs onto the bed and slowly slides her body up Puck's so that she's straddling his thighs. His hand comes up to cup her cheek gently while he looks into her eyes.
"Gorgeous," he murmurs, bringing her head down to kiss her long and deep.
She rocks her hips against his, moaning. Suddenly he breaks away from her lips, sitting up a little, and looks seriously into her eyes, searching for something.
"What?" she asks impatiently, wishing they were still kissing.
"Are you sure?" he asks firmly.
"Absolutely," she swears, pushing him back down, and kissing him again.
This time when she rocks against him, his hands grip her hips and he grinds back against her just as hard.
What little clothing they're wearing gets tossed aside without a care, and he flips them over, covers her naked body with his.
As he sinks into her, he whispers, "Missed you," against her lips before kissing her.
"Me, too," she gasps as she feels him begin to move.
He sets a rhythm, and with each thrust of his hips she marvels at how right being with him always feels, how well they fit together. He's sprawled above her, his weight supported on the tanned, muscular forearms resting on either side of her. His big, warm, calloused hands dig into her shoulder and tangle in her hair while his lips move over her face, her neck, her chest.
He hits a particularly sensitive spot, the delicious friction causing her to gasp suddenly and tighten her hold on him. He moans, low and guttural, the force of it reverberating in his chest and hers, as he sinks even deeper into her.
He speeds up his thrusts, her gasping moans of approval echoing in the bright room. His lips move to nip and suck at her neck, marking her, and one of his hands trails down to her breast. The feel of his lips on her neck, his rough palm grazing her nipple, and his cock pounding into her is a perfect storm, more than enough to send Quinn tumbling over the edge.
He comes a moment later, his mouth moaning into hers while she kisses him and her body holds him still, deep inside.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
It was one of the most tense conversations of her life, only made all the more awkward by the fact that they were naked while having it. But, she figures, getting to a place where she could start a healthy relationship with him was never going to be easy.
.
"I've wanted to be with you for five years, but I could never trust you. Fuck, I couldn't even trust you not to-"
"'Not to' what, Quinn?" he demands stoically.
"You know what," she whispers, one tear trailing down her cheek.
.
"I can't believe you didn't run to Finn when Rachel and I got together," he remarks bitterly, rolling his eyes.
It stung to hear, but she had to admit the truth of the statement. Seeking solace with Finn when things got hard was pretty much second nature to her at this point. He was easy to manipulate and she never truly got invested, so there was practically no risk to the relationship.
"I deserve that," she admits.
.
"If we're really going to give this try, I have to be able to trust you," she tells him, staring hard into his eyes.
"Likewise," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Excuse me?" she demands, raising an eyebrow, practically yelling.
"Oh, don't play dumb, darlin'. You have got quite the history with infidelity, and I never cheated on you while we were together," he yells back.
"I never cheated on you!" she screams.
"Well, yeah, but-" He somehow manages to stop himself from saying something really stupid.
"Finish it," she commands, a clipped edge to her voice.
"Fine. You were pregnant while you were with me, and aside from that we weren't together for very long."
.
Finally, though, they make the decision to just be together, and love each other, and try their best. They both agree to be better to one another than they were before, and they hope that some time apart and some added maturity are enough to make it work this time.
"So...we're together?" she asks slowly, hesitantly. She's studying his face from across the bed, and she feels so stupid for not talking about this before she had sex with him.
"We're most definitely together," he confirms with a grin. "But," he adds, pulling her down to lie next to him, "You're gonna have to give me some time to ease my mom into this."
She nods because she's not sure she can say anything without tearing up again. He's planning to tell his mom that he's back together with the shiksa that he knocked up in tenth grade. That tells her, more than his other declarations did, that he's in it for the long haul this time. He's committed.
She laughs softly and presses her face against his bare chest, kissing his collarbone.
"I'm sure she'll be so glad to have me back in her baby boy's life," she remarks sarcastically.
"She'll get over it," he shrugs.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
They fall asleep tangled up in a messy embrace, spent from all the events of the past twelve hours, emotional and physical.
Quinn wakes with a start, forgetting for a moment that she's not in her own bed. She looks over, still trying to catch her breath, and sees Puck, the same maroon sheet covering her breasts draped over his hips.
She smiles and lies back down next to him, one hand reaching out to trace a pattern across his shoulder. Her dancing fingers reach his nipple ring and she sees him smile.
"You're awake," she accuses playfully.
"I am," he says, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips. "Wanted to see how long it would take you to figure it out," he confesses.
She's silent for a moment. She smiles and tries to memorize his face in the bright light of early afternoon. Then she sighs.
"I have to go," she says sadly, pulling away from him.
"No," he commands, grasping her hips and pulling her back against him.
She groans, feeling his lips blazing a hot trail across her neck.
"I really have to go," she says again, trying to keep hold of what little willpower she had left.
He stops kissing her. "Really?" he asks.
"Really," she confirms sadly. "I need to check my phone and shower and make sure my roommate knows I'm not dead," she laughs.
"You'll come back, right?" he asks seriously.
She turns in his arms, twists her body further into his, and takes his face in her hands, kissing him soundly.
"As soon as I can," she promises, resting her forehead against his.
He reluctantly lets her go, and she moves about the apartment, gathering her clothes from the night before (and her panties from his floor).
She dresses silently in front of him, slipping on her underwear and then sliding her dress over her body. She turns to him, pulling her long, honey-blonde hair over one shoulder as an invitation for him to zip her up.
He stands behind her, tugging gently on the zipper, his fingers brushing along the smooth, soft skin of her back. He wraps his arms around her fully-dressed form and holds her close for a minute. Then he kisses her cheek and whispers, "I'll walk you out."
She nods, and holds his hand the entire way back to her car, because she can't really remember where she parked last night and he doesn't want to let her go.
She stands in the space of her open door, ready to climb in, while he kisses her goodbye. She thinks she must look ridiculous, clinging to a guy dressed only in plaid boxers standing in the middle of a parking lot in the middle of the afternoon, but she can't bring herself to care. She loves him.
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