Authors note: Okay, here is "that night" that they're both referring to. I cannot write anything else today….my house is a friggin' pig sty! But I wanted to get this written and posted before I went and played Suzy Homemaker. (And I admittedly have a very hard trouble stopping writing once I've started. It's like I have word diarrhea and it just pours out of my brain into my fingers.) The next chapter will be much longer because all the Gleeks will be getting together for the first time in years. Sorry this is short but….well….I hope you'll forgive its brevity!

Puck was relieved to get back to the quiet of his own house after his encounter with Rachel over dinner. Damn that woman, he thought. He kicked his shoes off, yanked his shirt over the back of his head and tossed it on the floor, kicked his pants off, and padded into the kitchen in his boxers. Who the hell does she think she is? A nun? People can't live like she lives! Puck grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped the top, and took a big guzzle. Sighing, he was pissed that it didn't make him feel any better. Walking back into the living room, he sat his beer on his new coffee table and launched himself onto the couch. Grabbing his remote, he flicked the TV on, pushed in the numbers to ESPN, and then put the TV on mute. Throwing his arm over his head, he stared at the dark wall in front of him, watching the shadows and lighting change as different scenes flashed across the television. Fucking Rachel Berry still knows how to fuck with your head, Puckerman. Puck grunted loudly and then kicked a fluffy pillow from the couch onto the floor. She had the nerve to tell him that he pushed people away? She made a hobby of it! First when she unceremoniously dumped him during his junior year due to her unrequited love for Finn and then….and then that night…..

Closing his eyes, he could still remember everything that happened that warm August evening eight years ago. He was getting ready to start his sophomore year of college and the rest of the Glee clubbers, minus Finn, were all heading off for their freshman year at college. It was a Thursday night and he was driving around Lima, aimlessly. He felt completely unsettled but couldn't figure out exactly why. Sure, he knew he was going to miss everyone and felt melancholy over the fact that their group was breaking up. Even though he and Finn had graduated the year prior, they had all managed to stay close. But that was inevitably over now as they all headed off to parts and lives unknown. Turning down Broadbent Avenue, Puck realized what street he was on. Before he could even really think about what he was doing, he pulled to a stop in front of Rachel's house. He sat there for a moment, looking at the reflection of the moon on the hood of his truck. He leaned his head on the steering wheel, in between his two hands, which gripped the wheel with white knuckles. Sighing, he looked over at Rachel's house. There were no cars in the driveway but the light was on up in Rachel's room. It's now or never, Puckerman. Go now or accept the fact that you're a sad little pussy and go home. Never one to back down from his own challenges, Puck hopped out of his truck and gently closed the door. Walking up the steps to the Berry household, he gently rapped on the door. A few seconds later, he could hear footsteps on the stairs and the porch light flipped on. Rachel opened the door, unable to mask the look of surprise on her face. She pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the porch.

"Hi Noah….is anything wrong? It's late."

Puck just stood there, hands in his pockets. Finally, he said, "No. Nothing is wrong. I know you're leaving tomorrow and….I wanted to see you."

"Well sure, come on in."

He followed her inside, appreciating the way her tiny shorts clung to her ass. She turned again to face him and he realized he could see her nipples through her tank top. His brain began to turn to mush. This was not what he needed. This was not going to make things easier.

Rachel sat down on a bar stool in the kitchen and Puck sat down next to her. She looked at him, expecting him to speak but he kept silent. Her hair was up on top of her head in a loose ponytail and her bare shoulders seemed to glisten, like she had just finished rubbing lotion into her skin. The thought made Puck shudder as lust and other emotions that he refused to identify coursed through his veins and settled in his groin.

"Uh….do you want something to drink?"

Puck nodded and Rachel hopped up and went over to the fridge. He could tell that she was just as uncomfortable as he was but he didn't quite know how to approach the subject, which was the whole reason for his visit. Handing him a can of soda, she got two glasses of ice. Setting one down in front of him, she climbed back up onto her stool. She popped open her can, poured it into the cup, and took a drink, watching him out of the corner of her eye the whole time.

"Noah, what's up?"

Puck pushed himself up from the stool to stand in front of her. "Rachel…am I crazy or have we spent this entire summer flirting?"

Rachel thought for a moment. "No, Noah. You aren't crazy. We did do a fair amount of flirting this summer. Why?"

Rubbing his hands over his trademark Mohawk, he looked at her. His chest was constricted because he didn't quite know how to say what he wanted to say. But it needed to be said, so he said it. "Because I can't stop thinking about you. You've sunk yourself into my brain and I need you to get out of there. You're leaving tomorrow for New York City. I don't know when or even if I'll ever see you again. But tonight….you're here….and I'm here."

Rachel stared at him intently, her breath rough in her chest. "I know I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm excited about it but you're right…there is something between us. I have tried to make it go away. But it's very real and you obviously feel it as much as I feel it."

Puck took two huge steps forward and took Rachel's face in his hands. He tipped her head up toward him and looked deep into those big brown eyes. He had spent hours lost in those eyes over the years. Bending down, he kissed her, gently at first, and then more passionately. Soon, she was off the barstool and in his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist, he leaned her against the wall and pushed the straps of her tank top down until her breasts were free against the chilly air of the room. He took the palm of his hand and rubbed it against her nipple. She moaned and pushed into his hands. Looking into her eyes, he gave her a look that said, "Are you sure?" She nodded and bit her lower lip. He let her slide down from his waist until her feet touched the floor. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, she led him upstairs to his bedroom.

There was no time for real foreplay. No time for sweet nothings to be whispered or romantic notions to be said. Their coupling was primal – the coming together of two people who had finally, after years of dancing around it, realized that they were exactly where they needed to be at exactly the right moment. They went over the edge together, a tangle of legs, moans, and unspoken emotions. As they came down from their euphoric high, he wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair. Whispering into her ear, he said, "Stay, Rachel. Please…give us a shot."

She was quiet for a moment. He thought he felt her body tremble, like she was crying. She finally whispered, "I can't, Noah. I have to go. My future…."

Puck felt his eyes burn but refused to admit that tears were forming. He wanted to tell her that he could be her future…but he didn't. He couldn't stand in the way of her dreams, that much he knew. He would not cry over the loss of some chick. Hell no. Rachel cuddled deeper against him, gripping him tightly like she never wanted to let go. Eventually, she fell asleep. Once her breath was deep and even, he expertly slid out from her bed without waking her up (because he had tons of practice with that over the years.) Grabbing his clothes, he slipped them on and slowly, quietly walked out of Rachel's room and down the stairs.

Hopping back into his truck, he almost lost his willpower. His heart was pounding in his ears and he felt like it was going to explode. He almost ran back to the house and banged on the door. He was close to begging her to stay and telling her exactly how he felt. But he didn't. She had made her choice. With one last glance at Rachel's bedroom window, he started up his truck and drove away from her house and out of her life.