Author's Note: I had originally planned to start and finish the RHGS arc in a chapter; this was supposed to be that chapter. Then I tried writing that chapter about three different times (rewriting each chapter at least once) and decided that wasn't happening. Hopefully this chapter will make up for the lack of updates (Puck and Rachel talk out things and things get pretty smutty).

Love you guys! Don't give up on me; we'll get to Nationals eventually.

In Treatment

Chapter 10: (Your Love is) Off the Chain

All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.

Havelock Ellis

Rachel spends all of Saturday staring at her phone, willing it to ring. It's silent while she gets ready for ballet, while she drives to and from ballet, and the entire time she's soaking in the tub after ballet. At some point she's downstairs getting a glass of water and nearly breaks her neck racing up the stairs when she hears the faint buzz signaling an incoming text.

It's just Kurt, asking if she's finished her assignment for English.

While she's sitting cross legged on her bed, wishing for the millionth time that her psychic abilities extended into telepathy, she realizes how stupid she's being. After all, she's Rachel Barbara Berry, a modern, independent woman and there's nothing stopping her from picking up the phone and calling her (asshole) boyfriend. She just doesn't want to call and him not pick up.

That will hurt more than him not calling in the first place.

She busies herself with homework (she's three weeks ahead in everything but Pre-Calc) and when that's done, she checks her MySpace page. She hasn't updated in weeks (there's been too much going on to even bother) and is surprised to see her last video has over a hundred comments. Most of them are really awful and center around the theme that she's a slut and a whore. The nicest one is from Santana, posted shortly after Burt's hospital stay. It's pretty simple, 'I'd like to hear that live,' and is followed by her bitching out the people who posted before her. She reminds them that she's Santana Lopez and she can end them if they don't shut the fuck up.

No one dares say anything bad after that and Rachel blames the little flutter in her stomach on the fact that people don't defend her very often. Well, at least not in front of other people. She wonders why Santana didn't say anything and decides not to bring it up either; just a short and sweet, 'Maybe I will,' followed by a smiley face. It's hard, but, Rachel figures if Santana isn't making a big deal about it then she shouldn't either. Dr. Robinson would be proud that she's trying to balance her impulses with her friends' sensibilities (delicate and otherwise).

Rachel falls asleep listening to herself singing Many the Miles on repeat, her hand clutching her phone, wishing that Noah would give some indication that he was still alive. Saturday is the longest they've gone without communicating since Jew Group started. It takes all the self control she has to keep from crying.

The first time she tells Noah she loves him is the summer when they're seven.

They've spent the summer building blanket forts in her living room, digging for worms in his backyard (although she always makes him put them back), and running around half naked in the sprinklers the way only little kids can get away with. It's hot and miserable (early August in Lima) the day they decide to walk to the 7-Eleven to get a slushy.

It isn't until later (much later) that she figures out why their parents are so upset. Nothing happens; they walk there, get their slushies, and walk back with a brain freeze or two between them. There are no strangers with candy, no thunderstorms, and no packs of half-starved wild dogs. They don't end up the subject of a Lifetime Original Movie but that doesn't mean they couldn't have. His mom is waiting with her dads when they finally make it back to her house. Rachel starts crying almost immediately, knowing that they're in a lot of trouble. There's a whole lot of Jewish mother guilt being thrown around but her dad isn't about to be upstaged and starts in with his own tirade of 'How do you think we'd feel if you died? Do you think we'd ever get over that?'

Noah just stands there, resigned, occasionally sipping his slushy as if he's heard this a hundred times. He doesn't spring into action until her daddy grabs her wrist and pulls her over to swat her. Her dads never spank her and it starts a fresh wave of tears, this time with an edge of hysteria. Noah's got his chest puffed up and his fists raised, ready to lash out and hit (never mind that it would get him into even more trouble). He gets up in her daddy's face and yells at him for daring to hit his Rachel.

Everything pretty much stops right there. Her daddy is too busy laughing to spank her and her dad and his mom are too busy melting to do anything at all. Eventually, when everybody calms down, they get an hour long lecture about the dangers of running off when they're seven years old and not nearly as tough as they think they are. Rachel apologizes until she starts crying again and Noah holds her hand and glares at her daddy. When they're finally left alone, he makes her wash her face in the kitchen sink (she can't quite reach so she stands on his back) and gives her the rest of his melted slushy.

Before he leaves with his mom, she gives him a hug and tells him she loves him. At the time she means 'Thank you,' not marriage and babies and forever. It still takes him two years to say it back. His arm is in traction and her head is resting on his stomach while they watch General Hospital on the tiny hospital television waiting for her daddy and his mom to get back from the police station. They don't stop exchanging I Love Yous until they're twelve and sixth grade pisses all over them.

Even in her dreams, Rachel wonders if she should have just kept that little declaration to herself and not spilled it all over her front porch steps a second time. Saying it in glee, to Finn as an excuse for not loving him, is a lot different than telling Noah after kissing him goodbye on their first date.

To say she doesn't sleep well is a huge understatement.

She doesn't expect him to come pick her up to go to Jew Group on Sunday, but she goes through the motions anyway. She spends a half hour on the elliptical, takes a shower, gets dressed, and eats breakfast with her dads (the one meal they're never too busy to make) without looking at her phone once. Rachel doesn't know why he's being such a big douchetard (it's not like that I love you was breaking news) but she knows that if she calls him on it, it's just going to make it worse.

He's not big on words and if she pushes him before he's ready, he'll just end up saying something stupid that he doesn't mean. Unlike with Finn, she's secure enough to let it go (to a point). Mostly she doesn't want to have to deal with the insecure hurt that will come with the stupid things he'll say.

Her dads know that something's up but they don't say anything to her. They content themselves with having a silent conversation over the top of her head while she munches on vegan bacon and forces herself to drink the rest of her orange juice. The whispers start as soon as she leaves the dining room and instead of telling them to stay out of her personal life, Rachel retreats to the living room and curls up into a ball on the couch. TCM is running a Judy Garland marathon but even Easter Parade isn't enough to pull her out of her bad mood.

She considers calling Santana and bribing her with lunch at Breadsticks but shelves that idea when she realizes she doesn't really want to be social (or pay for Santana's carb loading). Eventually her dads come in to sit with her in the living room and she pretends to be asleep so they don't ask her any questions or try to give her advice. Rachel loves her dads but she doesn't want a mini-lecture about how she should give Noah the benefit of the doubt. She knows she should, especially after all they've been through, but that doesn't mean she isn't a teenage girl with irrational thoughts and fears.

She doesn't hear the knock at first and she's so caught up in her napping performance that her dad gets to the door before she does. Rachel figures that, when she gets there, he'll be standing in the doorway, reading Noah the riot act for giving his baby girl the silent treatment. Instead, he's stooped over, with a comforting hand on her (idiot) boyfriend's shoulder, talking in the soft, rumbling tones that can only mean he's giving Noah advice. She feels a flash of betrayal (her dad's supposed to be the tough one who gives Noah a hard time) but it's quickly drowned out with worry when she gets a good look at Noah.

He looks like he's been on a three day bender.

Rachel stands in the doorway until her dad leaves, contemplating whether or not she should even let him drive. Noah finally looks up at her. It takes him a couple of tries; he mumbles and breaks out into a string of obscenities, before he finally finds the words to talk to her.

"Look, can we not go to Jew Group today? I don't want to talk about this shit in front of everyone."

There isn't anything else she can do but nod her assent, so, she clambers up into his truck and slides across the bucket seat until their thighs are touching. It takes a long time to drive out to the Twin Lake Reservoir.

No one goes to Twin Lake to make out. It's too close to the high school (too obvious) and too heavily patrolled by the Lima Police Department to make it worth anyone's while. Plus, it's usually crawling with people during the summer. In late October, however, it's nearly deserted and Noah easily finds an empty parking lot.

They don't say anything to each other. He fiddles with the radio, finally settling on an alt rock station, and Rachel slides down in the seat until she's resting her head in his lap and her knees are pulled up to her chest. It feels like a breakup, which doesn't make any sense all things considered. As the minutes tick by, Rachel feels more and more like she should sit up and beat the shit out of Noah. She's tired of being worried (that he's dead in a ditch) and upset (because he's ignoring her), so she settles on mad because at least that way she can regain control of the situation.

He says, "Look, I love you," at the same time she says, "You're a fucking asshole."

"God, Rachel, this is fucking ridiculous."

She should scold him (and herself) for throwing around f-bombs but she's too busy agreeing with him. It is ridiculous. They shouldn't have to go through this stupid teenage bullshit; they should be beyond that. Should being the key word. Since it's her and Noah, it only makes since that they would manage to screw a simple declaration of love up.

"Look," Noah lifts her up by her shoulders until she's sitting up beside him and then cups her face in his hands, "I've been a little in love with you since I was twelve years old. And then I went and fucked everything up by letting you walk away because it was easier for me." She's a little surprised, to be honest. He's never been good with words and neither one of them has been good about talking about what happened before. "If you don't want me, you need to tell me now."

His statement shocks her down to her toes, if she doesn't want him. It doesn't make any sense until she really thinks about it; she was the first to walk away, she kept her distance when he kept trying to catch her attention, and she did everything in her power to keep them from getting back on track (throwing herself at his best friend, "dating" him to make his best friend jealous, dating his best friend). He might be the established bad ass and heart breaker at McKinley, but she's done more than enough to rake him over the coals.

"I'm always going to want you, Noah. Always." She smiles and turns her head to kiss his palm. "I was so scared you were going to leave me." Rachel's always been scared he's going to leave her, maybe that's why she keeps leaving him first; it's easier that way. "Just don't break my heart, okay?"

He laughs at her, long and hard, and then slides her down so that he's lying on top of her on the seat. It's not comfortable but she's not going to complain when he's got her leg hooked over his hip and his hands are in her hair. "You're crazy and I love you for it." He kisses her then, biting her bottom lip until she gasps, and then runs his tongue along hers until she arches up against him. There's no daddy to interrupt them, no dad to come bounding out of the house with a baseball bat, and only the faint thought that the police might be patrolling.

Rachel really doesn't want her first time to be in his truck, but, he's so hard and hot against her that she can't quite remember why she doesn't. And when Noah untangles his hands out of her hair and slides them down her body, any protest she previously had flew out the window.

The pads of his fingers are rough and callused from years of playing guitar and she can feel them through the thin lace of her bra when he slides his hands up her shirt. He doesn't take off her shirt, just brings his thumbs up under her underwire and brushes them along the underside of her breasts. He smiles against her neck when she whimpers and groans when she turns her head and bites his neck.

Eventually they end up bunched up in the cab of his truck. She's squashed against the passenger door, her head bumping up against it when he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slides them off with her pants. She doesn't even know how he fits, bent in such a way that he can get his head between her thighs. It's not sex (not really), so Rachel just moans when he brings the flat of his tongue across her clit.

"Oh God, baby, I fucking love you." She jerks up at his words and feels her chest flush and heat pool between her thighs. She's wound so tight that his voice is almost enough to make her come.

Noah digs his thumbs into her thighs, pushing her legs further apart, before setting a steady rhythm with his tongue. His breath is hot against her slick skin and she shivers when he scrapes his teeth lightly against her clit. "Noah," her voice breaks on that simple word and she can't quite find the words to continue. She arches up against him and he looks up at her with a wicked smirk on his face.

"Come on, baby, tell me what you want."

"Please," she's not sure where the whine comes from, "I need, I need…I need more."

He probably wants her to beg, tell him exactly what she wants, but she just can't. She nearly sobs in relief when he slips one finger, and then another, inside of her and crooks them so he's running them over that small patch of roughened skin. It doesn't take long before she's shaking, her hips canting up. She wants more, she wants him to push harder, but he just keeps up his slow and steady pace.

"No-uh…please, please, please…"

He kisses her, hard and brutal in sharp contrast to what he's doing inside of her, and she explodes, moaning into his mouth. There's a moment when everything's fuzzy and Rachel can't quite seem to catch her breath. The next moment she's gathering up all her courage to slide her hand down his stomach and over the bulge in his jeans. She doesn't really know what she's doing (Jesse just wanted to skip to sex and Finn never got past second base) when she fumbles with the button on his jeans and tugs down his zipper.

There's a part of her that wants to completely return the favor but that's overruled by the voice in her head reminding her that they're in public and she's half naked and she really doesn't want to have that conversation with their parents. Instead, she wiggles his pants down just enough (he's not wearing boxers) that his cock springs free.

"Tell me what you want," she whispers the words, unsure of herself for the first time since he started taking off her pants. She can't really see what she's doing but that doesn't stop her from wrapping her hand around him. He's smooth and hard and perfect in her hand and she wishes they had more time for her to explore him.

"Baby, please, you have got to do something…"

Rachel loves the little noises he makes in his throat when she runs her hand up and down his length. She knows it's no more intentional than the look of intense concentration on her face (her eyes half crossed and her tongue sticking out of her mouth). He's wet when she rubs her thumb over the top of him and she can't help but grin at the way he thrusts into her hand when she tightens her grip.

This, this having all the power thing, is almost better than him giving her an orgasm. Almost.

She bites Noah's neck, just underneath his ear, and sucks hard as she pumps her hand up and down. He's not complaining (or talking for that matter) and she takes that as a sign she's not doing anything wrong. She feels him twitch in her hand and hears him gasp out, 'Oh God,' before he takes her head in his hands and kisses her like he's trying to crawl into her mouth. It takes her a minute before she realizes that her hand is wet and sticky.

Noah looks dazed, all traces of green and gold lost in his dark eyes, and a giggle rises in Rachel's throat. If one hand wasn't covered in Noah and the other wasn't trapped under his body, she'd clap them both over her mouth to contain the laughter. Instead, she leans in and presses her face hard against her boyfriend's shoulder.

"Oh, babe, don't cry. It's okay, we'll clean up and you'll be fine." It shouldn't but, for some reason, his concern just makes her shake harder from contained laughter. "Hey," he rises up just enough to sit up and cup her chin in his hand, "are you laughing?"

Rachel tries to shake her head no, but, her laughter finally bubbles up past her lips. She holds her hand up away from her body (and his) as he straightens up in the seat. "I'm so…sor…sorry, Noah. It was just…so…amazing." When the tension clears from his face (did he seriously think she was laughing at him), she hands him his pants with her clean hand and starts looking for her purse; taking a moment to contain herself.

"A lot of that was new territory for me, okay?" He just nods while she wipes herself off with a baby wipe and sets it gingerly on the dash while she shimmies back into her underwear. They really shouldn't be having this conversation now, but, they've done everything else out of order so it's not like it's any surprise.

"You mean you and St. Douche…"

"…didn't do a lot of things. He got me off a couple of times but never with his...mouth," she knows she beet red and focuses on sliding her pants up her hips without rising up too much in the truck. "He was more worried about the…main event…"

Noah ruffles her hair and swoops down to plant a kiss on her temple. "That's because he was a douchebag, Rach." She buckles up while he puts his truck in reverse and almost panics until he slumps down so he can bump his shoulder with hers. "Ma's at the hospital and Hannah's at a friend's house. We need a shower and you need to wash your clothes…"

"Okay…" It feels weird that they're acting so normal when it feels like her world has shifted on its axis. Sure, people have sex (or fool around or whatever they just did) all the time and go on to do normal things and lead normal lives but she feels like she should feel different or they should be acting different.

"Baby, we smell like sex and your t-shirt is a mess. I'm gonna take you home once I've fed you and forced you to watch a couple of hours of mindless TV. You probably broke your brain watching too much Judy this morning."

Rachel just nods, because a shower does sound really good, and puts her hand on his knee. Maybe the world didn't shift, but, that isn't necessarily a bad thing. So far, all the good parts of their lives have been the little moments; it's always been the big moments that had fucked them over. Besides, the fact that he knows she spent her morning watching the Judy Garland marathon makes her melt a little inside.

He loves her and she loves him and that's all that really matters.

Author's Note: Finally, something I'm happy with! I for one am glad that they've finally gotten things out in the open. And no, you didn't miss Rachel telling Puck she loved him last chapter; I added to this chapter just to be sneaky (hopefully it didn't fall flat). RHGS should be up next, for real. So, while the lack of orgasm has officially come to an end…our favorite couple is still messing around in public (maybe they'll eventually find somewhere private to have their sexy times).