10. Prodigal

We say goodbye, I turn my back
Runaway, runaway so predictable
Not far from here, you see me crack
Like a bone, like a bone I'm so breakable

I take everything from you
You'll take anything, won't you?

Runaway, runaway like a prodigal
Don't you wait for me, don't you wait for me
So ashamed, so ashamed but I need you so
And you wait for me, and you wait for me

His head aches and the room spins and he thinks he's going to be sick, if he hasn't already been. He opens his eyes and immediately regrets it; the sun is streaming through his wide open curtains and window, obviously his point of entry late last night. Although, he can't be sure and he thinks he would've needed some help at the very least.

He tries to think back to the night before and it's all a little fuzzy, like bad reception on a television. His head protests loudly at the very idea of even trying to perform more than basic functions at the moment. He runs his tongue along his teeth, the familiar furry sensation is a sure sign, if the headache isn't a big enough one, that he'd had far too much to drink last night.

He lies there for a bit, hoping for the room to stop spinning for just a second. He's no stranger to being hung over, but it's been awhile since he's gotten completely hammered at a party. Lately, he'd been too preoccupied with- he stops as he vividly recalls the events that had led up to him getting all shit faced at AC's.

If you ask him, he still couldn't tell you what happened. One moment she's moaning his name as she comes around his fingers and thanking him, and the next they're standing in the rain and she's telling him it's over because according to her, he'll never be able to keep it in his pants. Talk about being completely mind fucked.

So, of course, in typical Puck fashion, he'd gotten wasted. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, not so much. He attempts to sit up carefully, no sudden movements, or he's certain he's going to ruin his favorite green sheets. Slowly, he swings his feet over the side of the bed and then stands, his head throbs as the blood rushes to his brain. It takes him a second to get his bearings, but he manages to make it to his window, yanking the curtains close and dousing the room in darkness much to his relief.

His bedside clock reads 11:07 am, he's missed his morning classes he realizes, and then it occurs to him it's Saturday and there's no school. He's tempted to just go back to bed and sleep off the hangover, but his mom will be on his ass about how he's throwing his life away and he's a bad Jew and no better than the Nazis, and frankly, he can't listen to that shit anymore.

He manages to shower and change into a pair of track pants and a t-shirt before making his way downstairs in search of some Aspirin. He can smell coffee and something else really good. Sara's in the living room, sitting on the couch in front of the TV, eating pancakes drenched in syrup.

"Hey Squirt, who made the pancakes? Mom?"

"No, Mom got called in for an extra shift. Rachel made them." She says all too casually.

"Rachel?" What the fuck?

She nods. "Yeah, she came over this morning to see you, but I told her that you were still sleeping and that you probably wouldn't be up until after noon. She asked if she could wait and then she offered to make me pancakes." She explains. "They're really good. You should ask her to make you some too. She's in the kitchen." Turning back to her show, stuffing another fork full of pancake into her mouth.

He stands there for a good minute, trying to absorb what his sister is telling him. Rachel Berry is in his kitchen making pancakes. What the fuck is she doing here? God, he had a feeling that this wasn't going to help the pounding in his head.

He walks out of the living room into the kitchen and stops, watching as she stands in front of the stove, cooking breakfast as if it's the most normal thing for her to be doing, even though just yesterday she'd broken up with him on the sidewalk. She's wearing a black sweater and a red, gray, and black plaid skirt with matching knee socks. As odd as it is to have her standing in his kitchen on a Saturday morning, he has to admit that she looks hot.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, startling her.

She turns around. "Noah, you're awake."

He stares back. "What are you doing here?" He repeats.

She straightens her posture. "I came by to talk to you and your sister said that you were sleeping. She said it would be okay if I waited and she was hungry, so I made some pancakes." She points to a plate with a stack of them that she'd just taken off the stove. "I made some for you too and there's coffee." Motioning to the freshly brewed pot in the coffee maker.

He simply stands there.

Her gaze falters slightly. "I completely understand if you don't want to talk to me and if you'd rather I just leave, but I tried calling you and texting you last night and you wouldn't respond." She says and he vaguely recalls seeing her name on his caller ID, but ignoring it.

Lifting her eyes to look at him once again. "I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm sure that seems less than adequate for the things I said to you and accused you of and for basically breaking up with you for no reason at all." She rattles on.

And his head begins to spin again and he walks to the cabinet where the Aspirin is kept.

"I fully expect you to be angry and upset and you have every right to hate me right now and if you never want to see me again or talk to me then I'm fully prepared to accept that. I deserve it. I-"

He turns to her then. "Look, my head is killing me and you're talking isn't helping matters, so maybe you could just shut up for like two minutes!" He snaps and then knocks back the two small tablets with a glass of water.

There's maybe a full minute of glorious silence before he hears her speak again.

"Are you- are you hung over?" She whispers quietly.

Rolling his eyes. "Yes, and if you could hold off on the fucking lecture until after my head stops pounding, I'd appreciate it."

"Oh." And then there's a pause. "Oh." She repeats.

He figures that she's just put two and two together, realizing that he'd gone to the party last night, the one he'd told her he wasn't going to, but that was before she'd broken up with him. And it was also the reason why her calls and texts had gone ignored.

"Well I'm going to just... go then, I guess." She says and then looks at him with those eyes, all dark and glassy and sad and sorry. "I'm really very sorry for hurting you, Noah." She says sincerely before making her way out of the kitchen.

"Wait..." He calls out, sighing heavily. So help him God, he can't let her go. "...don't go."

There's just something about her that keeps him coming back for more. The words a glutton for punishment come to mind. She accuses him of screwing around behind her back. She makes him feel like total shit. And breaks up with him. And for some reason, that's not enough for him, he just has to go back for more, and he knows there'll be more. He might as well just cut off his balls now and hand them over because he's pretty sure that 'The Property of Rachel Berry' is stamped on them.

They head up to his room and she takes a seat on his haphazardly made bed while he leans back against his desk, the chair currently having a pile of his clothes on it.

"What happened yesterday? Because I got to tell you, I'm still trying to figure it out." He asks point blank.

She looks at him, apologetic. "I know." She takes a breath. "And to be honest, I'm not exactly sure what happened. The morning was wonderful and you were great and then I ran into Quinn…"

And it all begins to make sense now. "Figures." He mutters darkly.

"To be fair, I don't think she was trying to be mean or nasty. She seemed to genuinely want to help."

"Yeah, well next time you can tell her to fuck off!" He shoots her a look. "I thought that's what you were going to do when anyone tried to tell you what an asshole I am."

"I did. I told Quinn that I appreciated her concern but it was unwarranted." She looks down. "But then Brooke was in the girls' bathroom and she was talking about you and how she pretty much wanted to get you into bed."

"So, just because she says that you automatically assume that I'm going to?" He doesn't try to hide the fact that that hurts. "It's nice to know that you have so much faith in me." He mutters sarcastically.

"I do!" She gets off the bed. "I do have faith in you." She stares up at him with those dark brown eyes that threaten to drown him. "I just- I don't know… I had a moment of doubt and I'm sorry." She admits.

"So, what happens the next time you walk into the girls' bathroom and some Cheerio is talking about wanting in my pants? Or the next time some member of the Gleek Squad decides to give you their two cents on us?" He asks. "Because I got to be honest with you, if you're going to accuse me of cheating on you every time some girl even looks my way, then I don't need that shit. If you haven't noticed, I have enough drama in my life without your daily dose of crazy." He knows it sounds harsh, but he has a right to be pissed.

There's a pause. "I shouldn't have accused you of cheating. It wasn't fair and…" She takes a breath. "…as much as I want to promise that it won't ever happen again, I can't. Because well, as I'm sure you've noticed, I have the tendency to be a bit of a drama queen."

"A bit?"

"Okay, a lot. It seems to be what I do." She concedes. "But you knew that when all this started between us."

She has a point. But that doesn't mean that she could get away with accusing him of shit he's not even guilty of. He didn't deserve that.

"So, I should just chalk this up to one of your diva moments and forgive you?"

"I think it's only fair, since I forgive you for your asshole moments."

He can't deny that. But still. "I don't know… what if I don't think that's good enough. Maybe I deserve more. Maybe you do too. Maybe this is too fucked up to ever work."

There's a moment of silence. "I guess if that's how you feel then…" She trails off.

She stares up at him for a long moment and he can see that she's trying not to cry. It does something to him inside and he doesn't know when this happened, when he'd become so effected by this girl. Who the fuck was he kidding? He was in no position to walk away from her just as he was in no position to let her walk away. And that thought alone has him scared shitless.

"This is so fucked up." He mutters under his breath.

She opens her mouth, but he steps closer to her, placing his hands on her hips and tugging her against him, causing her to stumble forward. Her hands flatten against his chest to regain her balance.

"Noah, what-"

"Shut up, Berry." He whispers softly, his eyes dropping to her lips and then back up. He recognizes the look in her eyes, the one that is a mixture of want, heat, and mild shock.

She opens her mouth again to no doubt protest, but the words promptly die on her lips as he presses his mouth to hers hard. It takes her all but a second to respond, and then she's eagerly returning the kiss, opening her mouth under his as their tongues battle aggressively. Her hands curl into his shirt as his fingers dig into the fabric of her skirt, dragging her closer, pressing himself against her.

He's vaguely aware of the fact that his little sister is downstairs watching TV and could walk in on them as she's prone to do, but frankly he doesn't care at the moment. He lifts her up, her legs automatically going around his waist and her arms around his neck. His hands slide beneath her skirt, finding her ass as he walks over to his bed.

He presses her into the mattress, kissing her deeply as his hands run over her, cupping her breasts through the fabric of her sweater. Somewhere in the back of his lust laden mind, he realizes that their problems still exist; nothing had truly been resolved, just brushed aside for more important matters at hand. Like finding out what color underwear she's wearing today and just how wet they are right now.

When he begins to slide her underwear down from beneath her skirt, he feels her tense just slightly, and it occurs to him that she actually thinks that he's going to fuck her now. To be honest, he thinks it would solve their problems. He'd finally get laid and she'd stop being so insecure about him looking elsewhere for sex because she'd be putting out. And as logical as it seems, he has no intention of fucking her for the first time when he's still hung over and his sister is downstairs watching Saturday morning cartoons.

He takes a second to admire the black boy cut panties she'd chosen to wear before tossing them aside and moving back over her. He grinds himself against her, kissing her neck as he works the buttons on her sweater, curious to see if her bra matches the panties. And he's not disappointed. Black lace, even better.

He kisses his way down across her chest, over the swell of her breast and then closes his lips over a nipple, sucking it through the thin fabric of the bra. She arches up into him, her fingers curling into the sheets and her hips pressing up against his. His hand slips beneath her skirt, moving up along her smooth thigh and then cupping her mound, finding her already dripping wet. His fingers move between the slick and swollen flesh, seeking out the overly sensitive small bundle of nerves, and in response, she grabs his head pulling it up to hers and kissing him hard on the mouth.

He's been with a lot of girls and a lot of women, a lot of them more experienced then Rachel Berry, but he can't remember ever being so turned on from just kissing and some inappropriate touching. Because of what she lacks in experience, she makes up for with her sheer eagerness and enthusiasm. He's pretty sure that she's going to blow his mind when they actually do fuck. And he can't fucking wait.

Easing a finger inside her, she mewls in response and raises her hips up in encouragement. He smirks against her lips, teasing her clit with his thumb and she moans his name, half in pleasure and half in frustration.

"Noah…"

"Tell me what you want me to do." He whispers seductively.

She stares up at him, her dark eyes swirling with lust and desire and need. "You know."

He smiles easily. "I want to hear you say it."

She lets out a frustrated sigh. "Noah…"

"Berry…" He mimics.

She moves against his hand in an attempt to get him to continue his ministrations. "Please." Her dark eyes, pleading and full of promise.

And he gives in because fuck, the look in her eyes has him nearly coming in his pants. He adds another finger and moves them around, twisting and curling them inside her until she's moaning his name and God's and other incoherent words.

"Touch me." The words tumble from his mouth.

He doesn't care where, he just wants her to touch him. But Rachel Berry has this way of surprising him and reminding him that she is not like other girls, who from his experience need a lot more encouraging when it comes to reciprocating. But she is not one to shy away and her hand is quick to find its target, cupping him through his track pants with heart stopping accuracy.

"Fuck." He swears aloud. He's so hard right now and he wants nothing more than for her to relieve some of the ache.

"You mean like this?" She asks and then slips her hand beneath waistband of his pants and her fingers curl around his cock. "Or like this?" Almost innocently.

His head falls to her shoulder. Holy fuck!

"Tell me what you want me to do." She repeats his earlier words.

He chuckles, finding it amusing and somewhat impressive how quickly she's able to turn his own game against him. Oh yeah, she's going to be fucking amazing in bed.

"Payback's a bitch." She teases.

His thumb presses against her clit and she moans on cue because hell she might be a quick study, but he's still got a lot to teach her.

"Yes, it is." He says smugly and her hand falters slightly, losing its rhythm on him as she becomes lost in her own pleasure. "Don't stop." He encourages.

And she resumes moving her hand along his length as he moves his fingers inside her. He increases his speed and her hand follows suit, her thumb moving over the sensitive tip. He knows she's close by the way she's moving against his hand, his fingers already slick and easily slipping deeper with every thrust.

His fingers curl inside her, finding that elusive spot that makes her scream his name. He quickly covers her mouth with his, drowning her out, mindful that his little sister is still downstairs and the last thing he needs is for her to come upstairs. Her walls clasp around his digits, holding them hostage inside her just as her hand tightens on his cock. It's a mixture of pain and pleasure and it's enough to cause him to come hard, like some inexperienced fourteen year old who'd never had a girl jerk him off before.

"Fuck!" He groans into her mouth.

They stay like that for a bit, his fingers still inside her, wet with her juices, her walls quivering around them. Her hand is loosely wrapped around his cock, now sticky. He pushes himself up off her a bit and she stares up at him, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen, her eyes glassy and a little unfocused, and completely at a loss for words. That's twice now that he's been able to render her speechless. He smirks, realizing that he's just found a sure fire way of getting Rachel Berry to shut up.

The rest of the weekend is spent doing much of the same, hanging out and making out. On Sunday, he has dinner at the Berry's because Rachel announces that it's about time that her dads meet him, especially if he's her boyfriend now. It's the first time that either of them has put a label on their relationship, out loud at least. He doesn't protest too much because he knows it won't do much good when Rachel has her mind made up about something. He realizes very quickly that he's going to be losing a lot of arguments with her.

Dinner doesn't turn out to be the hell he'd been expecting. They don't ask him about his intentions towards their daughter or what he's planned for his future; instead, they ask him about how his mom and sister are doing and whether he's enjoying basketball. He's certain that it's because of Rachel, though he's not certain how she did it, but she must have strictly forbid them from grilling him too severely. No surprise that she has her dads wrapped around her little finger. When she volunteers them to wash the dishes, he realizes her dads aren't the only ones wrapped around her finger. But he more than makes up for it by asserting his badassness when he lifts her up on the counter and proceeds to kiss her senseless with her dads in the next room.

Although her dads are cool, he's not naïve enough to think he's been spared from the inevitable talk. He's only been given some time to get his shit together so when they do finally ask him those questions, he's going to sound less like a degenerate and more like the kind of boy parents can approve of. The odd thing is that he's never cared before whether parents approved of him or not, just as he's never been interested in being someone's boyfriend, but now he finds that's suddenly all changed.

On Monday, he walks into school, feeling like things are finally looking up for him, but that all quickly changes when he runs into Brooke Stevenson. She stops him at his locker, a flirtatious smile on her face.

"Just the person I was hoping to see this morning." She coos as her gaze lingers over him, appreciatively.

He's used to it, it barely fazes him now when girls outwardly hit on him. He can't say that he's totally immune though, he is still a guy and a teenage guy at that. But where before he wouldn't have thought twice before flirting back with a suggestive smirk and some equally suggestive innuendo, he's careful not to encourage them. But sometimes they have a hard time taking the hint.

"Hey… uh I can't really talk right now, but I'll see you around okay." He says, brushing her off as he attempts to step around the brunette.

"Sure, I just wanted to say, I had a lot of fun on Friday... and maybe we can do it again sometime." She says with a seductive smile.

What the fuck? He stops in his tracks and turns around to face her. "What are you talking about?" Confused as hell.

"Friday, you know, at AC's party." Her green eyes dancing up at him.

And suddenly, that good feeling he was having when he walked into school is now replaced with a sick, sinking feeling, the kind that almost always indicates he'd done something spectacularly stupid.

"AC's party. Remind me again, what happened?" He asks, keeping is voice low.

She pouts playfully. "I'm hurt, you don't remember. But you were kind of smashed." She steps closer, placing her hand on his chest. "Well, maybe we can meet up later and I'll refresh your memory." She says suggestively, giving him a coy smile.

He pulls her hand away. "Are you saying that you and I…" He trails off, straining to remember exactly what happened at the party on Friday.

"Well, we sure as hell didn't just hold hands and talk." She quips.

He remembers being handed drink after drink and at some point, he'd headed to the bathroom to take a leak. Afterwards, he'd stumbled into an empty bedroom to lay down, promptly passing out. Everything after that is fuzzy, at best. He vaguely recalls waking up to the feel of soft lips and eager hands and Rachel's face hovering over his. Obviously, that wasn't the case. Shit! He'd fucked up!

"Look, it's no big deal. It happens. You were wasted and I had a couple of drinks. We started making out and one thing led to another. I'm sure it's not the first time for either of us." She says casually.

It wasn't. He'd hooked up with girls at parties before, nameless girls who were easily swayed by a few seductive words and just as easily forgotten the next morning. But that was before when he didn't care and it didn't matter how many girls he fucked. That was before Rachel Berry came into his life and turned his world upside down and now, he actually cares and it definitely matters to him. And not just because he can already imagine the look of hurt on her face when she finds out, but there's a part of him that actually feels guilty and pretty damn disgusted with himself.

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, you have absolutely nothing to worry about." She says with a smile. "I mean, your sexual prowess is legendary for a reason and you definitely didn't disappoint."

"Right." He clenches his jaw. "Just fucking tell me we used something?"

"Of course. I plan to get out of Lima, not be stuck here with a baby at the age of sixteen." She says.

He lets out a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn't have to worry about another illegitimate child of his being out in the world. The relief is short lived though when he realizes that it's only a matter of time before this would be all over school and he's pretty sure that all the progress that he and Rachel had made this weekend would be shot to hell.

"Look do you think that we could just keep this between you and me?"

She gives him a strange look. "Why?"

He hesitates. "I'm just trying to get back into Quinn's good graces and the last thing I need is for her hear about us hooking up." He lies easily.

He doesn't care if Quinn finds out. He does care about Rachel hearing about it through WMHS's rumor mill before he has a chance to talk to her. But telling Brooke that would be like dumping chum in shark infested water, the Cheerio would just love to rub it in Rachel's face, especially since she was still deemed a Glee club loser by the popular crowd.

"I thought that you and Quinn were over." She says inquisitively.

"We are, but it's still my kid."

They might be giving the baby away, but he's still going to be there for the appointments and the birth, even if it's going to rip his heart out to hand over his daughter to some strangers at the end of it all.

He gives her a charming smile. "Just do this one little thing for me, okay Brooke?"

She smiles. "Sure, Puck. Whatever you want."

"Thanks." He starts walking backwards. "I got to go." He says, making a hasty exit, turning the corner and making a beeline for Rachel's locker. He doesn't trust Brooke to keep her mouth shut for more than five minutes, if she hasn't already blabbed to her fellow Cheerios.

He spies her at her locker, loading her book bag with books she'd need for her morning classes. She's wearing a dark denim skirt and a white hoodie, the kind that zipped up in the front. He knows because he's the one who picked it out, telling her that it was his favorite kind of top. Easy enough to get her out of, no buttons to fumble with and only required the use of one hand rather than both, allowing him to multi-task. She'd rolled her eyes and gave him a dirty look before proceeding to toss his ass out of her house, through the front door rather than the window he'd climbed through in the morning. However, he figures that her wearing the top had to count for something. He also hopes that it won't be the last time she allows him into her room or in a ten foot radius of her once he tells her about Brooke.

He comes up behind her and grabs her hand. "We gotta talk." He says into her ear.

He barely gives her enough time to close her locker, let alone, give her consent before he pulls her down the hall towards the practice room, which he knows is always empty at this time. The moment they enter the room, he feels her pull her hand away from him and cross her arms over her chest.

"For future reference, I don't appreciate being dragged down the hall." She says haughtily.

"I'm sor-"

"And if you need to speak with me, there is no need to be a Neanderthal about it. All you need to do is ask, preferably politely."

"Look, there's something-" He attempts to explain.

"And furthermore, a proper greeting wouldn't hurt either? While 'We gotta talk' is direct and to the point, it is not a proper greeting."

"Yeah, I know. I-" Growing frustrated.

"And-" She opens her mouth to speak again, but this time he cuts her off.

"Enough!" He says loudly, grabbing her arms and forcing her to sit down on the piano bench behind her. "Just shut up and sit down! " He blurts out.

He can tell that she's not pleased with his outburst or his manhandling, but sometimes it was impossible to get a word in edgewise with this chick.

"Look, I'm sorry, but there's something I have to tell you."

Her expression changes from pissed to concerned. "What is it? The baby? Quinn?"

Shaking his head. "No. No, they're fine."

"Okay, so what is it then?" Her brown eyes staring up at him.

He swallows hard. "You know how I went to that party on Friday…" He begins. "…well I had a lot to drink." It's not an excuse, he knows.

She nods. "I know. I was witness to your hangover the morning after." She reminds him.

"Right. Well, I got totally hammered and I don't exactly remember too much about that night."

"Yes, well, that is just one of the many side effects from being inebriated, at least that's what I've heard."

Did she just admit that she's never gotten drunk or woken up with a hangover? That is certainly something that he's going to have to fix, the drunk part not the hangover part, because he actually thinks that a drunk Rachel Berry could be totally fun and equally hot. That is, if he hasn't fucked everything up.

"Something happened and I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else. I…" He hesitates, not sure how to say it. "…shit!" He says in frustration.

"What?"

"I- I slept with Brooke." He says quietly, remorsefully.

She sits there unmoving, obviously it was the last thing she was expecting to hear him say. He, however, expected her to react more, possibly yell at him or slap him or maybe both, but not to sit in silence. It's freaking him out a little bit. A quiet Rachel Berry is never a good thing.

"I'm sorry and I know I fucked up, but it didn't mean anything and I swear it will never happen again." He knows it's such a cliché thing to say, but it's true. He waits for her to say something, but she doesn't. "Rach, baby…"

"You slept with Brooke." She says softly, the hurt is evident in her voice as is the fact that she's trying not to cry. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because… look, I know that this is going to sound like I'm a total douche, but the truth is I didn't remember it happening."

She looks at him then. "What made you remember?"

"I ran into her this morning."

"Oh." She sighs.

He sighs, running a hand over his Mohawk. "Yeah, and I guess some of it came back to me. Her being there at the party and being alone in a room together."

"If that's all you remember then maybe that's all that happened. that all you remember? I mean, if you were so drunk, how can you be so sure that you slept with her?"

He would agree if he didn't know himself so well. He looks away, ashamed. "Look, I was pretty messed up. I was angry and hurt and I'm pretty sure I would've done anything to stop feeling that way. So, I might not remember it happening, but I know that if she came onto me, I wouldn't have exactly turned her down."

"Oh." Sadly, her gaze falling to her hands in her lap.

He looks at her. "It seems to be what I do. Maybe Quinn was right about that." He says, sadly. "I'm so sorry." Sincerely.

There's a long moment of silence and he wants to say something, but he doesn't know what he can say to erase that look in her eyes that has his stomach twisting with guilt and regret, at least that's what he thinks it is.

"I fucking hate this!"

"Me too." She says softly. "But I suppose technically we were broken up."

"But we're not anymore and it sucks to hear this now."

She sighs. "But it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't freaked out and broken up with you in the first place."

"I'm the one who got trashed and ended up fucking-."

"But you told me about it, instead of trying to hide it from me." She rebuts.

"So… what are you saying?" Hesitantly.

She looks up at him and then smiles. "I'm saying that maybe the fact that you were honest with me is an indication that this relationship is strong enough to get through this."

"Yeah?" A little doubtful.

"Yes, absolutely." She stands up.

He thinks about it for a moment. Finding out that he slept with Brooke didn't change the fact that he still wanted to be with Rachel, even if that meant more dinners with her dads and perhaps some with his mom and sister. It didn't change his feelings for her, although he's not sure he's ready to voice those out loud or even to himself just yet, but he knows they're there. It sure as hell didn't change that this thing with Rachel is the best thing that's happened to him and even if he doesn't know if it's going to last, he knows that he's willing to make the effort. And he thinks that if anything is an indication of whether they're going to be able to get passed this, it's that. Even if it makes him sound like a total pussy.

He takes a breath. "I was kind of worried that I'd fucked everything up." He admits with a crooked smile.

She steps up to him, reaching for his hand. "You didn't." Looking up at him. "I'm glad you told me, Noah."

"Yeah, me too." As strange as that is because there once would have been a time when he would've just tried to hide it. Maybe this honesty thing isn't so overrated after all.

He's at his locker, swapping his Biology books for his History ones, when he overhears a couple of Cheerios talking.

"What a loser."

"Yeah, like she's a total freak of nature."

"But you know, I almost felt bad when she got slushied."

"Yeah, she looked like she was about to cry."

There's a pause before they both giggle, contradicting themselves.

"Rachel Berry needs to be spayed and neutered."

That's about all he hears before he's slamming his locker and heading to the girls' bathroom, knowing that's where he'd find her. He walks right in, not caring a bit that there were other girls in the bathroom, primping in front of the mirror. The younger freshman girls simply stand there gawking at him.

"Noah!" Rachel shrieks. "What are you doing in here?!"

She's still dressed, her white top is stained with red syrup. "Who did this to you?" He asks, feeling his temper flare.

"This is the girl's bathroom!" She reprimands.

"Do you fucking mind!" He turns to the two freshman who simply walk out without so much as a word. He turns back to her. "Problem solved."

She sighs. "Noah, you shouldn't be in here."

"And you didn't answer my question. Who did this to you?"

She remains silent, staring up at him with her dark brown eyes.

"Karofsky? Someone from the basketball team? That freak that's always sniffing around you? 'Cause I swear I'm going to fucking pound their ass!" He growls.

"It's fine, Noah." She placates.

His fists clench at this side. "Like hell it is!"

He realizes that it's not the first time she's been slushied. In fact, he's the one who started it back when he was a jerk to her. But there's something about knowing how it feels, how humiliating it is. Plus, she's his girl now, granted no one knows that because if they did, they'd know better.

She fixes him with a look. "Noah, just let it go."

Confused. Why was she protecting the douche who did this to her? "Why?"

She takes a breath. "Because I don't want you to do anything that's going to get you a week's worth of detention or worse, suspension."

"It was Karofsky, wasn't it?" When she doesn't answer he automatically assumes he's right. "He's a fucking dead man!" He turns, ready to walk out when she grabs his arm.

"It was Brooke." She confesses.

"Brooke?" He has to admit he wasn't expecting that.

"Yes."

"Why would she do this?"

She sighs. "Because I confronted her about what happened at the party and she pretty much confessed that she fabricated the whole thing."

Taken back. "She lied about sleeping with me."

"Yes, apparently, the reason you don't remember anything happening is because nothing happened. She tried to seduce you and you rejected her advances." She doesn't attempt to hide just how pleased she is about that.

He's pretty damn pleased too and to be honest, pretty damn shocked. He was drunk and God knows that he has not always made the best decisions when he's been drinking.

"Wait, she just told you this?" Skeptically, because even though he doesn't doubt that Rachel can be persistent and a bit of nag, there's no way Brooke would've just been forthcoming with information that makes her look bad. Especially, when she went through all that trouble this morning to convince him that they had done the deed.

"Well, not exactly. I had some help."

"Help from who?" Curious.

"Jacob Ben Israel. It seems that although he remains to be a pervert, I no longer am his object of affection, thankfully. He's repulsing Brooke now."

"You're shittin' me!"

Her brow furrows. "You do realize that that particular saying makes no sense whatsoever. Not to mention, it's offensive and rude and crass. But no, I'm not. Shittin' you, that is."

He smirks. "First, I hate when you lecture me. Second, it's fucking hot when you swear."

She rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. "He was stalking her at the party and like the sick pervert that he is, he caught it all on his camera phone. " She pauses. "I saw it. It was quite the show."

"Sweet."

"Yes, I was quite pleased. She, however, was not and decided to retaliate by throwing her slushy in my face."

"She's a fucking bitch! Want me to make her cry?" Dead serious.

She laughs a little. "No, I don't want you to make her cry."

"Why not? She totally deserves it. I say we post that little video on the internet, make her a fucking porn star." He's already thinking of ways to make Brooke's life miserable.

"As satisfying as that would be, I think she's feeling humiliated enough." She smirks. "Besides I'm sure Jacob is putting that video to good use as we speak, and that is enough to make Brooke wish she'd never gone to that party."

He chuckles because he knows that the little perv is probably jerking off to it as they speak.

He looks at her then. "You're a mess." He comments bluntly.

Rolling her eyes. "Yes, it seems so." She begins to unzip her top when she stops and then looks at him expectantly. "Noah, shouldn't you be leaving?"

"Why would I want to do that?" He smirks.

Her brow furrows. "Because this is the girls' bathroom and you shouldn't even be in here in the first place."

"But the show is just starting." He leers as his gaze drifts down her body.

Crossing her arms over her chest. "I am not stripping down in front of you." She says, haughtily.

"It's not like it's anything I haven't seen before." Smugly.

She flushes slightly. "Yes, I'm aware. But we're at school and it's completely inappropriate. Besides someone can walk in at any moment."

"Not if I lock the door." He steps closer to her.

"No, Noah." She gives him a look.

"C'mon, Berry..." He moves into her personal space and presses her back against the sink and then leans in licking some of the sugary syrup off her neck. "Mmm... Cherry."

He thinks he's got her when she lets him kiss her a bit longer, but after a few moments she's pushing him away with surprising force.

"Noah, go!"

He lets out a heavy breath, turning to head for the door, but then stops, turning back when something occurs to him. "Your shirt is ruined. Do you have an extra in your locker?"

She shakes her head. "No, I'm just going to have to try to get the stain out as best as I can."

He begins to unbutton his plaid shirt, sliding it off and leaving just the white shirt beneath. "Here." He walks back over to her.

She stares at his outstretched hand holding his shirt. His favorite, she knows because he wears it often.

"What?" He asks, dumbfounded.

"You're giving me your shirt?" She blinks.

"Well, you don't have anything else to wear. So unless you want to go topless, which I wouldn't have a problem with-" Grinning.

She grabs it from him and then fixes him with a look. "You do realize that this is just going to cause more fodder for the gossip mill."

"So?" Shrugging casually.

"So, they'll assume that something's going on between us." She points out the obvious.

"Yeah. Probably. So, what if they do?"

"I- I thought that you didn't want anyone to know about us."

"Yeah, about that. I think that was a bad idea." He's beginning to think it's the route of all their problems lately.

"You do." Surprised.

"Yeah. I think that's the real reason you freaked out, not because of Quinn or Brooke. And to be honest, I don't fucking care what people think." He pauses and then smirks. "Besides, we're a couple of good looking Jews."

She smiles. "And it's natural."

"Hell yeah!"

She grows serious. "What about Finn?"

He feels bad, he does, but damn it's not like he stole her away. Finn had his chance and he blew it.

"I don't want to hurt him, but don't you think that it's going to hurt him a whole lot more the longer we wait, the longer this goes on?" He gives her a look. "The way I see it, it's kind of like ripping off a Band Aid. If you do it in one quick move, it seems to hurt less than if you take your time pulling it off carefully."

She's giving him this look that says she's completely shocked and mildly impressed and if he's not mistaken, a little turned on.

"So, what do you say?"

"I agree." She's smiling proudly. "And Noah, I'm very impressed with your use of analogy."

Rolling his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Are you going to wear the shirt or not?"

"Yes, thank you for letting me borrow it."

"Yeah, it's no big deal." Shrugging.

"You do realize that this is a very Prince Charming-esque gesture." She teases.

"Yeah, well don't get used it."

She just smiles back as if she knows something he doesn't. It's freakin' irritating.

"I guess, I should go…" He pauses. "…unless you need any help. I'm very good with my hands I've been told." He says suggestively.

She shakes her head laughing. "No, I'm sure I can handle it. Now, go before a teacher catches you in the halls without a hall pass."

"You're no fun, Berry." He says teases as he turns to head out once again.

"Noah?" She calls out.

He turns. "Yea-" He stops short, completely mesmerized as she unzips and strips off her red stained sweatshirt to reveal a lavender colored bra. All he can think is, she's so hot. Shaking his head. "You're such a cock tease." He jokes and he can hear her laughing as he walks out of the bathroom.

Later that afternoon after school finishes, they walk into Glee practice hand in hand. The room grows quiet and they all just stare at them.

He was half expecting the pointed look and the raised eyebrow from Mercedes and Kurt. Quinn is frowning slightly and Santana is scowling at Rachel as usual. Matt and Mike are both giving him the wtf look, he can't really blame them. Tina and Artie are just smiling and maybe the only ones who might even be happy for them. Brittany just looks confused, but what else is new. And Finn… well, Finn decides to pull a Rachel and walks out of practice in true diva fashion.

So, all in all, he'd say that went well. Hell, it's not like he fucking needs their approval anyway. They don't like him dating Rachel, they can just go fuck themselves. Of course, he doesn't say that, though it's implied.

"So, we're together. Officially." He announces and then without waiting for the group to respond, he leads Rachel to a couple of chairs and they sit down.

He lets go of her hand to place his arm along the back of her seat. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Rachel's small smile and he knows that she's so going to let him feel her up in his truck when he drives her home after rehearsal.

TBC...

Song credi: Prodigal by One Republic

So, I hope that was worth the wait. I know a lot of you were wondering when they would finally go public. Thanks for reading and for all the feedback.