Ch. 21 On Your Porch
A.N. Congrats to ClassicArtsLover for being the first to review and have the correct answer to my contest question (Jane Lynch)! Out of the prizes, CAL chose a story spoiler ;) Aleana and SkyeDrgn were also correct, but the reviews came later so they get 'honorable mentions'.
The Quinn poll is closed and a new poll is posted in my profile about story possibilities (inspired by Maiqu), so please check that out through the rest of June and into July.
This chapter continues with the format from last chapter with flashes from one scene to another at Rachel's party. Notice: Smut included toward end.
Shout out to acaudill0068 for our ego conversations! Also, a dedication to super Fuinn Fan Friend kaelaelameee (you know why).
Featured songs can be found in my profile or by adding the youtube address to the following:
/user/novice242#grid/user/6176D1E728E7C3DE
There's also a link in my profile to a picture of magnetic fields, which are symbolic for part of this chapter (and Puck/Rachel in general to me).
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, songs, or anything familiar.
…
"You're here…" Rachel said in amazement. Her flash of joy at seeing Noah on her porch was replaced by her anger and shock. "And you're smoking?"
Shit. Puck put out the cigarette. This was not how he'd planned for Rachel to see him at her birthday party. He was at a loss for what to say, but that was ok for the moment because Rachel was going on and on irately about the dangers of smoking.
"…Even though you're 18 and there are no legal ramifications if you purchase cigarettes, there are other important considerations! You are an integral part of a singing club on the brink of a competition! How can you endanger the team chances? Not to mention your health! What about those of us who don't want you to die of lung cancer?" she shouted frantically. "It's terrible for you! How long have you been smoking? I've been worried sick about you, and you're here—smoking? I didn't know you smoke! How could I not know you smoke?"
"I don't smoke." He put his hands up in surrender and tried to calm her down. It didn't work.
"Noah! I saw you smoking!"
"I mean, I don't really smoke like as a habit. I just needed…something…to take the edge off…something more than just dip."
"Dip? Like the chips and dip in the basement? Were you downstairs already?"
"Yeah, I was downstairs, kinda. But you know I'm not talking about chips and dip," he said—until he saw her blank look and realized that maybe she didn't. "Wait, you do know that dip is tobacco, right?"
"What?" she squeaked. "When you say you're buying dip at 7-11 you mean chewing tobacco? Gross! I'm so…I can't even… I'm going to punch you now!" She huffed in frustration—right before she balled up her fists and pummeled his chest.
Puck stared at her and burst out laughing. "That might've worked better if you didn't tell me you were going to punch me in advance."
Her shoulders drooped and she looked up at him with teary eyes.
"Aw, hey," he wrapped his arms around her. "Come to think of it, I was still shocked when you started hitting me," he chuckled. "That might have been the biggest shock." The whole situation was really unexpected actually.
"I'm not upset about your critique of my physical attack, Noah!" she flared again. "Not that I should attack you! That's so unlike me! I'm just so…" She pulled out of his arms before collapsing into a sobbing speech. "I'm upset because you're smoking! I'm upset because you haven't returned my calls! I'm upset because you haven't been with me for my party! I'm upset because I'm afraid you want to break up with me!" There, she said it. She looked at him with naked fear. She wanted him to deny it—or get it over with quickly and just 'man up and break up' as Kurt had said. She braced herself and closed her eyes.
"Rachel, I don't want to break up with you," he said quietly. "Though I have no idea why you don't want to break up with me."
Her eyes flew open. "Why would I break up with you?" she asked incredulously. "You're the one who's not talking to me."
"That's a good reason why you'd want to break up with me. I'm an ass. Besides, you should know I never break up with a girl. I'm always the one who gets dumped," he muttered pointedly.
She gaped at him in disbelief before realizing it must be true. He had such a reputation. But when it came down to it, when he actually dated a girl, he wasn't the one who ended it. She remembered that day…on the bleachers. He was a jerk, but she had been blinded by Finn Hudson for so long that she hadn't seen…hadn't realized… "Noah, I'm sorry."
"What? You're sorry? Why? I'm supposed to apologize here. That's what these are for," he grabbed the pink roses that were balanced on the porch railing. "I even fucked that up."
Rachel's eyes widened at the sight of the pink roses. A thin layer of frost coated the petals—he must have been waiting outside for a while, she realized. "So you're not waiting out here working up the courage to break up with me?" she asked—and cursed herself for how ridiculous and insecure she sounded. "Please forget I asked that, considering that you've already answered that question."
"Uh, ok," Puck agreed awkwardly. He stared at her, completely blanking on what he was going to tell her—what he'd been trying for hours to figure out.
"You had something you wanted to say to me?" she prompted meekly.
He nodded and tried to pull his thoughts together. She looked so nervous…and beautiful there in the moonlight. The words started pouring out. "I'm sorry I acted like a jerk at dinner—and then for not calling you. I just…" he trailed off.
Instead of waiting for him, Rachel jumped in with her own apology. "And I'm sorry for not supporting you at dinner! I realize now that even if I disagree with you, it must have felt terrible to have everyone against you like that. I should have been the one on your side then. Even if later I explained my side to you in private. My situation with Shelby has given me a certain perspective…and I want you to know that you are nothing like her—your situation with Beth is nothing like mine with Shelby. I didn't understand that you might be worried about that until recently."
He felt so relieved at her words—even if she was interrupting him. It's not like he knew what to say anyway besides "sorry". And somehow it seemed like she understood him even without him telling her how he was feeling.
Rachel watched a half-smile creep across his face as she spoke. "Oh, I'm sorry again!" she gasped, hands flying to her mouth to stop her flow of words. "I didn't let you finish!" she realized, appalled. "Please continue."
"It sounds like you already know most of it—'cause yeah, you're right that I don't want Beth to think of me the way you think of Shelby. It just…kills me. And then when you actually said it's like you and Shelby…"
"I know! I'm so sorry I did that!" she burst out again. "I didn't mean it that way! The biological part yes, I still mean that. But I've been wanting to explain to you that it was only after Shelby rejected having a relationship with me after everything that happened—that's why I feel so…uncomfortable around her. But you would never have that type of situation with Beth!" she insisted. "I was going to tell you that, if I could have just talked to you…" This time her voice trailed off, and she looked down at her feet.
"Shit, I should've called," he mumbled. "Such an idiot," he cursed himself. "Such a fuck-up. I'm a shitty boyfriend, shitty dad—biological father, I mean. I can't even say it right," he groaned in frustration.
"Oh, Noah," she sighed sadly as she looked into his eyes.
He looked away, but she thought she saw the shine of tears—and the way his jaw was working, he seemed to be fighting back his emotions.
"Noah, no, you're a beautiful, wonderful person, boyfriend, and father," she said softly but with authority. Her heart hurt for him and the only thing she wanted to do in that moment is make him feel better. They would deal with the issues of communication and appropriate relationship behavior later. She placed her hands on the sides of his face, forcing him to look at her. He blinked his gorgeous eyes as if he couldn't process what was happening. She gave a slight nod and smile to reassure him wordlessly. Then she kissed him.
His heart clenched and he felt so grateful for her—he just wanted to hold her and never let go. But as he tightened his arms around her, she pulled away unexpectedly.
"You taste terrible!" she blurted as she recoiled.
Damn cigarette. "Sorry! Don't worry, never gonna smoke again. No more dip either," he vowed.
"Thank goodness!" she exclaimed, then she added, "but you can make your own decisions."
"I decide not to taste terrible for my girlfriend," he confirmed with a slight smirk conflicting with the sadness still present in his eyes.
His words sent a wave of relief through her. Girlfriend. She grabbed his hand. "Let's go upstairs."
He raised his eyebrow. "Really? Now?"
She smiled. "So you can borrow a toothbrush."
"Oh," he muttered, deflated.
"But after you taste minty fresh," she sang, "we'll already be upstairs…" she finished suggestively.
He grinned. The sadness seemed to be evaporating.
"First we should stop to put these roses in a vase of water," she said as she scooped up the bouquet with her left hand. "They really are lovely, Noah, thank you."
He shrugged. "Apology gift. Pink seemed like the right ones for you."
"They're perfect." She stretched up to kiss him again, but just gave him a peck on the cheek when she remembered the smoky taste.
They walked inside the door smiling, both feeling that this was right. Perhaps it's strange that with so much left unresolved they felt they belonged hand-in-hand in this way. But that's the way they were—like two magnets. When they were in close proximity, they righted themselves—through seemingly uncontrollable attractive forces. And for awhile, everything felt right—in balance—even while unrest waved around them under the surface.
…
Kurt watched Rachel leave the party and couldn't help shaking his head. "She must really love that idiot."
Blaine raised his eyebrow. "That appears to be the case…but do you know something I don't?"
"Not really. It's just that Rachel Berry is the type of girl who needs attention—constantly. Everyone knows it; she even admits it. And she's a perfectionist who would want to be in the middle of everything and be the perfect hostess for her birthday party. Now she's jumped her own ship. Abandoned her own party. " Kurt's mini-rant was interrupted by the buzz of his phone alerting him to a new text.
"Is that Rachel?" Blaine asked curiously, peering over at the phone's screen. His eyes widened. "Karofsky?" he exclaimed. "I thought we talked about this."
Kurt looked at him with a furrowed brow. "I thought we had too. You still have a problem with my friendship with Dave? It's just friendship!" Kurt's voice grew louder and his face flushed.
Mercedes turned quickly from Artie to try to figure out what Kurt was worked up about. She didn't feel like she was doing any good standing in front of Artie while Tina fawned over him and Mike tried to reason with him about Brittany's sudden announcement that she was going to Juilliard. Mercedes decided she'd much rather check out what was going on in Kurt and Blaine's corner of the basement.
"Hey guys," she started. "I heard you from across the room. Something wrong? Besides the whole Brittany and Artie meltdown? Or is that what you two are goin' on about like the rest of us?"
Blaine and Kurt looked at each other, embarrassed. "Sorry about that, Mercedes," Blaine apologized. "We should probably try to help like everyone else." Then he turned. "And Kurt, I owe an 'I'm sorry' to you too. We should talk more later, but I'll try not to over-react like that."
Kurt nodded. "Thank you, Blaine," he said quietly with a small smile. Then he straightened his shoulders and turned to Mercedes. "Ok, we'll get our best reality-show-strategist-mode going and try to come up with some ideas to help these crazy kids."
…
Finn was restless. While he considered everyone in glee club to be a friend, his girlfriend and closest friends were upstairs somewhere working out issues or something. He pretty much expected that this would be a lame party—especially knowing that Rachel's dads were upstairs to keep an eye on things and knowing how terrible Rachel's last party was. But he had no clue there'd be so much crying. He had to get out of there.
When they had first arrived, Santana had told him that if he played nice with everyone at the party for a few hours, they'd play naughty back at her place afterward. He didn't know why she told him to be nice when she was the one who hated…everyone. But he could hardly care. He was looking forward to all the things he would do alone with Santana…things Rachel and Quinn never let him do. So when he could tell that Rachel wasn't having a very good time at her own party, he tried to be extra nice to her.
It was surprisingly easy to be around her even though she was his ex-girlfriend. As long as she wasn't with Puck, Finn was fine about the whole thing. Yeah, he realized that the way he felt seeing Rachel with Puck was probably how she felt seeing him with Santana or Quinn. So maybe that made them even. Rachel could hurt him with Puck and Jesse. He could hurt her right back. Not that he wanted to hurt her. He didn't. And he knew she didn't want to hurt him. That's just the way it was. They could still hurt each other, just a little. Part of it was ego, he recognized (with help). It just sucked that it was always Puck. First Quinn, then Rachel. He figured if Rachel still felt hurt about their breakup(s), it was because of her ego too.
It was Santana who helped him understand about egos. She was really smart. Finn remembered telling her how uncomfortable he felt around Puck and Rachel. First she told him to suck it up; then she told him that she'd been uncomfortable about those two for a while but she never said anything.
"How long?" he had asked her.
"Ever since he sang her that ridiculous song," she had muttered bitterly. "He never sang me a song, and we—never mind. Nobody ever sang me a song. Nobody."
Finn had been puzzled. How long exactly had Puck liked Rachel? It didn't make sense. He knew they had that thing sophomore year, and then she cheated on him by kissing Puck, but…did Puck actually like Rachel back then? Santana seemed to think so, but she couldn't be sure she said. And even if Puck liked Rachel, that didn't make Finn any less mad at him or less…uncomfortable seeing them together. So Santana explained to Finn that his feelings came from his ego, not because of any leftover love for Rachel. And that actually made sense. So now Finn was like an expert about ego.
But his current discomfort at Rachel's party wasn't about ego or leftover love. It was about all the crying.
Crying Artie was almost as bad as a crying girl. Or maybe worse. Finn had gone to the bathroom to try to get away for awhile—hoping that when he came back that it would be over—or that at least Santana would have come back downstairs from talking to Brittany so they could leave. But no such luck.
Finn stood there helplessly as Tina and Mike tried to talk to Artie. He almost turned to see if Kurt, Blaine, and Mercedes would be better company, but he overheard them from where he was standing. They were talking about Artie and Brittany too. Finn knew he would be no help. He was sorta paralyzed by crying.
Well, he'd become immune to Rachel's crying after a while. Only because she did it so often during singing, he found it hard to tell when she was performing and when she was being real. But seeing her cry did feel like a little bruise on his heart anyway. Now Santana crying, that was like a knife in the chest. She hardly ever cried, but when she did, it was like a crazy never-ending kinda thing. Like she held it all in for a really long time and then let it all out at once. He realized that Quinn was like the same way, but kinda the opposite too. She must hold it in too, but when she cried it was like one tear. One tear was all she'd let anyone see. And for anyone who saw it, it was…heart-wrenching, gut-wrenching.
He couldn't stand it. He had to go find her.
His girlfriend.
Not Quinn.
He wasn't going to look for Quinn.
He just needed to get away from the crying.
Without a word (not that anyone really cared—some leader he was), Finn bounded up the stairs to find out where everyone else went.
…
Jacob Ben-Israel was shocked to learn that Rachel's dads were actually home. He knew this mission was risky, but he also thought it was the best bet to follow through on his threat—because making idle threats was even more despised than making the threat itself, he thought. Gotta live up to promises. People were counting on him. Ok, maybe not many, but some guys in the AV club would set up a shrine to him if he pulled this off, and his reputation would live on in infamy after he graduated. And tonight he could make history. He knew the alarm would be disabled so that guests could come and go from the party. He'd just have to sneak in, which he did through the back door and headed upstairs. He'd worn an unnecessary disguise—a snow cap to hide his Jewfro was the key, but without trouble he went straight to Rachel's room to plant his surveillance equipment. He wasn't sure if he would really go through with it—the actual recording and viewing part. If he started recording, he was bound to catch something. Instead of completing his self-appointed spy mission, he kinda hoped to run into Rachel so he could convince her to break up with that man-whore. Then his glory with the AV guys would come from the panties he would steal. Ah, Rachel Berry panties. So even though he was prepared with the equipment, his true goal was to steal a few things and talk to Rachel if she happened to catch him. (But if she didn't catch him, he'd leave with a few souvenirs and have a video recorder to pick up later.)
Jacob didn't expect that she'd ever really date a loser like him, but he just had to try. It was senior year and being with Rachel Berry was his dream ever since he'd met her.
But he really didn't expect that the first people to enter Rachel's room while he was setting up would be Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce.
Things would have been fine if they hadn't started kissing—Jacob just couldn't stop the whimper of anticipation about what he might witness.
And that's why he was sitting there in Rachel's bedroom now, tied with sheets to a chair, while Santana, Brittany, and Quinn Fabray debated about what to do with him. Sam Evans was standing near the doorway, looking shocked and uncomfortable.
When a knock on the door startled everyone else, Jacob was feeling relieved. He figured that the Berry's wouldn't knock.
He was right.
"What the hell?" Finn asked as he took in the bizarre sight.
Sam ushered him in and shut the bedroom door. He wasn't sure why. It didn't look like Jacob was going to escape. He supposed he did it so the girls could decide if they were going to tell Rachel's dads or not.
As Santana and Quinn explained the situation to Finn, the door knob turned again.
…
"What are you all doing in here?" Rachel asked the crowd of her party guests. She blushed and dropped Noah's hand momentarily due to the impropriety of what it might have seemed like she was doing. "Noah was just going to borrow," she started to explain. But as Finn stepped to the side, she saw what they were all gathered around: a captive Jacob Ben-Israel. She gasped.
Puck's fury and frustration took hold of him—now he had a target. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he roared.
Rachel's voice caught in her throat. She wanted to make sure that Noah didn't do anything regrettable, but at the same time she was mesmerized by the sight of him—his eyes flashing with fury and looking especially green.
Finn didn't even have to tell Sam to grab Puck—they both just did it—each going for an arm. It was a good thing they held him back because the pounding on the stairs they heard next could only be from Rachel's dads.
Rachel was still in a bit of a trance, staring at the sliver of golden skin above Noah's hip—right at the oblique muscle—where his shirt had been pushed up as Sam and Finn immobilized him. She could hardly be properly scandalized by the events around her because she wanted to use her tongue to trace that exposed spot above his jeans so badly.
Marshall Berry was the first through the door. He was about to scold the kids for being upstairs outside the designated party area and for making so much noise, including a curse word. But then the scene before him began to sink in. "What the f-?"
"What in the world?" Aaron Berry started at the same time. "Can someone tell us what is going on?"
"We just walked in, Dad," Rachel said. "Can one of you explain what's happening here?" she asked her friends.
Everyone looked at each other but no one spoke a word. Santana sighed disgustedly. "Yes, I can explain."
"It seems as though we need to adjourn this party and continue the explanation at the police station," Marshall said.
Rachel looked aghast. "I think it would be best if I stay here, Daddy. I don't really want to be anywhere near Jacob." She shivered.
"Of course, sweetie. But we will need someone to explain what happened here," Aaron said.
Santana nodded reluctantly. "I'll go. Nobody else was here from the beginning." She didn't even mention Brittany—sometimes Brittany's naïve honesty could make a situation worse.
"Can't we just work this out?" Jacob whined plaintively. "I'm really sorry! I just came to talk to Rachel!"
"Tell that to the cops," Sam piped up. Then he looked around, embarrassed. "Sorry. I got a little carried away. It's your decision."
Rachel flashed a small smile.
Aaron turned to Sam. "We're in agreement. No matter what his reasons are, he's in violation of a restraining order."
Jacob slumped in defeat. But then he raised his head almost gleefully. "So, how is this going to work?" he asked. "Are you going to leave me tied up here while you wait for the police to arrive? Are you going to tie me up and drag me to the station yourselves?"
Aaron and Marshall looked at each other and back at Jacob warily. They realized it could look very bad if they brought a young man tied up in bed sheets to the police station; or if the police arrived to see the situation. Even if everyone in the room confirmed that Jacob was the one who snuck in, the fact that he was in restraints could actually end up with charges against the Berry's—especially considering the red mark on his cheek that looked a bit like a handprint.
"We have to untie him," Marshall said.
"What?" exclaimed most everyone else.
Jacob grinned with relief.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Puck groaned.
"We're still calling the police," Aaron explained. "Everyone out of the room," he ordered. "We're untying him and attempting to barricade him in the bedroom." He didn't add that Jacob could potentially escape through window while they waited for the cops. Marshall was already calling. The kids looked around at each other, stunned. Rachel began shepherding them out of the room. Finn and Sam kept a loose grip on Puck—just in case he decided to do something stupid. They stood blocking the exit, while Aaron tried to figure out what to put under the window—and under the unfortunate nearby tree—to discourage escape by that route. He wished he had given in to Rachel's request for a puppy so many years ago so they'd have a guard dog now.
Jacob was already scrambling to climb out the window when he realized he was in no way prepared to leap from the second story to the tree branch that was taunting him. But he really had no choice.
He took a deep breath and went for it.
And made it!
Just as Aaron Berry rounded the corner from the garage dragging some rakes, Jacob slithered down the tree trunk. Aaron yelled and broke into a run, throwing the rake at the running boy's feet—and missing completely.
Even Jacob abstractly appreciated how badass Mr. Berry would have seemed if he'd taken him down with that rake. Fortunately, his fellow Jew was better at words and numbers than athletic pursuits. Jacob was no athlete either, but he ran like he'd never run before—even faster than when he'd been pelted by pee balloons. He could hear more footsteps and yelling as the others from inside the house joined the chase. He knew he had made it though—he was steps away from his car and everyone else was on foot with their cars parked down the block. And obviously he wouldn't drive home where they could catch him.
The tires squealed as he raced away.
…
When Puck had seen Jacob heading for a car, he turned around and ran for his truck. But it was too late. Not because he had parked so far away (which he had), but because a patrol car was turning onto the street. Puck couldn't race off after fuck-face with a cop right there. Too bad the cop hadn't shown up a minute ago to see Jacob take off like a drag racer. Fuck!
He was seething mad. He still wanted to tail the motherfucker, but the cop and Marshall Berry were motioning him up to the porch.
Fuck.
The cop was trying to organize a way to collect everyone's statements instead of looking up the little prick's license plate number and address.
Fuck.
But then he felt a soft hand slipping into his. Rachel.
"I'm so glad you're here," she whispered.
"I wish I could've done something," he muttered. "Can't believe that fucker showed up here—after everything…"
She tugged on him as she sat on the sofa, prompting him to sit too. Then she placed her hand on his thigh. "I know, I can't believe it either, but we can't let him get to us."
"I'm gonna get to him," Puck growled.
"No don't," she whispered. "Though I appreciate the sentiment. In fact, unlike the last time when I got upset seeing you actually attack Jacob, this time when you just appeared threatening and protective, well, I find it incredibly…sexy." She bit her lip nervously, hoping she made the right choice by revealing this secret. "Not that I want to encourage such behavior and attempted violence, but I have an incredible urge to…have some alone time with you."
In the back of her mind, Rachel knew that part of her desire to be close to him was to relieve the tension she had felt due to their fight, temporary separation, and fear of permanent separation. She wanted a physical expression of their closeness. But in spite of the emotional pull she knew was there, the physical attraction was at the forefront of her mind.
Sam saw Puck and Rachel get up from the couch, so he figured they must be done with all the police stuff—he could finally talk to Puck. "Hey, Puckerman, got a sec?" he asked. "I've got some questions for you."
Puck shook his head. "Bad time, man." He was a little curious, but he didn't want anything to stop him from taking advantage of Rachel's horniness.
"Oh, sorry," Sam said with disappointment.
Rachel tugged on Puck's sleeve. He figured out what she wanted him to do. "But if I don't catch you tonight, hit me up later, ok man?"
Sam was grateful but puzzled. "Ok…Does that mean the party's still going?"
Rachel nodded vigorously. "Yes!" She raised her voice to address the room. "After the police have finished taking everyone's statements and searching my bedroom for evidence, we will be continuing the party! So please stay! Have some cake! I'm so sorry for these interruptions!"
"It's not your fault, girl," Mercedes reassured her. "But wouldn't you rather just call it a night?"
"No!" she exclaimed. "I would actually really love for everyone to stay as long as possible! It might help keep Jacob from coming back tonight," she stated. Then a bit more quietly she added, "And I would really like to try to salvage this 18th birthday party experience with the help of all of you."
Well nobody was going to leave after that! Who was going to be that guy who said, screw you, I'm going home? So as their statements were taken, the party guests returned to the basement, wondering where Rachel and Puck were—but trying not to think about it too hard.
…
Quinn and Sam were waiting to have their statements taken after most of the others had finished. Finn was giving his, and Sam, Quinn, Brittany, and Santana were left. Apparently the cops were going in reverse order so they could get the people who didn't see anything out of the way. While it wasn't the private conversation she had hoped to finish with Sam about springing the whole college indecision on her, she had to ask him. "What did you want to ask Puck, Sam? Anything I can help with?"
He shook his head but turned toward her. "I was gonna ask him about the music programs he's applying to and how much they cost and stuff like that. You're right that I can't afford a really expensive college, but I still wanna find someplace with a good music program. I really think that's what I should major in, you know?"
Quinn nodded slowly. She honestly thought that a music career was an unrealistic goal for anyone in Lima—except for Rachel Berry. So the thought that Sam—whom she was counting on to be her future husband—would pursue something so uncertain scared her to death. "I know where Puck's applying. Case Western. He just wants to be in Cleveland to be…near Beth. He doesn't care about the cost—which I looked up actually. It's expensive. About three times the cost of OSU." She didn't intend to sound smug about it, but she could tell that she did. She tried to soften her expression. "OSU has a music program too. Have you checked into it yet?"
He nodded. "Yeah…they have jazz guitar, but that's about it for guitar I think." But he saw the sadness in Quinn's eyes. He tried to say something positive. "But they have one of the top Music Education programs around. So if I wanted to be a teacher, like Mr. Schue, it'd be really good to go there."
Quinn had a flash of what her future could be like—after a great time in college, they'd settle down together in small-town Ohio. Sam teaching music and she'd…teach English or Art or something maybe? And maybe she'd sell real estate on the side—because they'd obviously be poor. She couldn't stop the sad sigh that escaped her lips.
But Sam's name was called and Finn exited the kitchen where the cop had set up. In the assembly-line manner they'd been following, Quinn moved to the dining room while Santana and Brittany took her seat on the sofa.
As he nodded in casual greeting, Finn noticed the sad look in Quinn's eyes. "Something wrong, Quinn?"
"You mean more than waiting in line to give a police statement at the worst birthday party ever?"
"Yeah."
"Then yes…thanks for asking."
"Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?" he asked tentatively.
Quinn looked up at him curiously. He looked so sincere, she couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Finn. Maybe it would help to talk about it."
Finn pulled up a chair at the dining table and waited for her to begin.
She started pouring out her feelings about her situation with Sam. "Don't you think a couple should want to go to college together? Or at least discuss it together?"
"Santana and I aren't. But I guess we did talk about it a little. It's just high school, Quinn."
She sighed and nodded. "But he gave me a promise ring. I thought it meant something."
"I thought you gave that back to him," Finn said puzzled.
"I did. Then we got back together." She flashed her hand to display the ring. She was a little perturbed that he hadn't noticed actually. What's the point of a promise ring if nobody notices that you're wearing it?
Finn blinked at the tiny ring. "Well, then I guess that means you two are more serious than most couples…" he said slowly, unsure why that thought made him uneasy.
"So then I'm not being unreasonable," Quinn concluded.
"Yeah. I mean, you're not unreasonable," Finn fumbled. "But if you guys are really serious, maybe going to different colleges won't be the end of the world…"
"Thanks Finn, you're a good friend," she smiled.
He flashed his signature half-smile. "I'm trying."
"It's been awhile since we talked. Maybe we should make it a point to talk more often and not lose touch after graduation."
"Sure," he grinned. "It sounds like we're both going to OSU, but yeah, just in case we don't, it would be cool to…you know, talk. We haven't really talked since..."
"Yeah, it's been a while," Quinn said quickly, uncomfortable with her memories from their messy past.
Finn felt the discomfort too—hers and his own. "I better go. Santana's still waiting to talk to the cop, so I should probably hang with her." He glanced into the living room. "Well, she's got Brittany so she probably doesn't care…I can stay with you if you don't want to wait for Sam alone…"
Quinn smiled up at him. "You're very sweet, Finn. I'll be ok. You can go. But thanks again."
Finn felt weird as he left the dining room to chill with Santana and Brittany. He was left with some mixture of sadness and happiness that didn't make any sense.
Quinn felt confident that when she talked to Sam after all of this silly police business was over, she'd convince him that she was right about OSU being the best choice. But if he still wanted to go somewhere else for school…maybe that would be ok too.
…
Rachel led an anxious Puck upstairs. She retrieved a toothbrush and waited patiently as he brushed the cigarette taste out of his mouth. Then they snuck out of her bedroom and into the guest room.
"Just in case the police check my room again for Jacob's equipment," she explained in a whisper.
"Still pretty risky," he smirked. But then he wanted to smack himself at the look of concern on Rachel's face. Why couldn't he learn when to shut his mouth?
"You're right," she conceded. Instead of leaving, she opened the closet door. "What do you think?" she asked nervously.
"The guest room has a walk-in closet?" he asked as he thought about the hole in the wall he called a closet. "And it's empty? How much space does a guest need?"
Rachel cocked her head to the side curiously. "Well, I'm sure when this house was built it was intended to be the bedroom of a son or daughter. But you do realize what I'm asking you, right?"
He grinned slowly as he finally caught on. "Oh fuck yeah!"
"We'll have to be…quiet…but at least if someone does wander into the guest room for any reason we'll have some warning and time to…make ourselves decent."
Puck didn't need any convincing. He stepped into the closet and she followed, closing the door. In the dark, she reached for him and kissed him fiercely. He pressed himself against her as he kissed back. Soon they were in full make-out mode, and Rachel was tugging at his shirt. She had to get to that skin, even if she couldn't see it. She kissed a trail downward from his neck, chest, piercing—causing him to shiver deliciously—then she made her way down his abs where she found the line of his waist and lived out her mini-fantasy along his perfect torso. She was throbbing, burning, so ready for him.
"Rachel…" Puck was about to lose his mind. Holy hell, what had gotten into her? He was hard as fuck, and she was down there on her knees just above his jeans—like a cock-tease, but he knew that's one thing she wasn't. Especially the way she was unzipping his fly and swaying her hips—she seemed in the mood to do just about anything.
"So…does this mean we're doin' it standing up? Don't get me wrong, I'm all about that, but you're still kinda new at this…Not that we have to do it, we could just keep making out or whatever…"
Rachel sank to the floor and pulled off her sweater, so he figured he had the answer. He kissed her as he helped her undress the rest of the way. In seconds, she was lying on the carpet and he was pulling himself out of his jeans. As he hovered over her, he realized what they were about to do and where.
"Hey baby, I think you should be on top again."
"Oh? Why? I thought maybe we should take turns."
He chuckled. Of course she did. "It may be easy to keep track now, but believe me, we don't have to worry about taking turns being on top. In fact, sometimes we'll both be on top in the same round." He winked but figured she couldn't really see him. "Just trust me,Rach," he replied. He didn't want to tell her that he was afraid she'd get a rug-burn from the friction of their bodies against the carpet. Better he suffer a little than make her get hurt—even a little. But if he told her, then she probably wouldn't trade places with him because that's how she is. "You seemed to like being on top last time," he smirked. "And this is your birthday party…"
"It's true," she blushed. "But I've liked everything we've done together."
"Ditto," he said quickly as he rolled to swap their places before she could argue. Even in the dark, he knew she was smiling down at him. And he knew she wanted him. It only took a roaming hand to know she was dripping wet for him. He ripped open the condom package without wasting time. He placed one hand on her hip and held his cock in the other to help guide her.
He stifled a groan as she slid over him with a sigh. Gently thrusting, he encouraged her with his hands on her hips until they got into the perfect rhythm. One spot on his lower back was getting rubbed raw from the damn carpet, so he kinda wished they had brought a blanket with them, but he sure as hell wasn't stopping. Fuck, he wished he could see her, boobs jiggling as she rode him. His hands traveled up her waist so he could feel—so perfect and perky. She shivered as he played with her nips, so he held her while he leaned forward—aching to take one in his mouth.
"Oh, oh," Rachel gasped as his tongue and lips teased and suckled. The feelings completely negated the minor friction she felt as her knees scraped the carpet.
She was shuddering already and Puck figured it was better to release early than to have a sex marathon in the closet and have everyone looking for them. A few more thrusts, deeper, deeper, and they both melted together.
…
Rachel collapsed on top of his chest and lay there breathing heavily. "Wow! That was like everything happening at once!" she exclaimed in satisfied amazement.
"Like I said, just trust me," he chuckled.
"You were so right," she breathed, sounding so impressed. She squeezed him a little. "I definitely trust you, Noah."
He couldn't help but grin as he lay on the floor in the dark with Rachel in his arms. Yeah, the rug-burn was totally worth it.
…
It hadn't been that long from the time they disappeared to the time they returned to the party. But Kurt took one look at Rachel's mussed hair and sappy smile and said, "My, don't you look all satisfied and freshly plucked. Our little good girl keeps getting dirtier and dirtier."
Puck's blood boiled at the self-satisfied look on his prissy little face. "Hummel, watch your fucking mouth!"
"Noah!"
Blaine took a step toward Puck defensively. "Hey, no need for that! Chill!"
Puck glowered past Blaine to stare down Kurt. "I just didn't like what you were inferring."
Rachel placed her hand on his arm. "I think you mean implying." Then she clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, actually infer works too! I'm so sorry I corrected you!"
Puck smirked. "It's ok, B. And you're right; I meant implying." He bent to place a light kiss on her lips.
"Ugh," groaned Artie. "Really, you two? I think I'm gonna be sick!" he exclaimed dramatically.
"I'm with you there," Tina agreed.
"I think it's sweet," chimed Mike.
"You would!" Tina and Artie replied simultaneously, sounding disgusted. But Tina smiled and kissed Mike's cheek, while Artie pretended to gag.
"Alright, everybody," Rachel announced. "Noah and I are a couple, and even if you don't think we're built to last, I'd appreciate your support instead of your condescension!" she finished, eying Kurt.
"I'm sorry, Rachel," Artie said.
"Yes, we're sorry," Kurt agreed. "You're right."
Rachel lightly elbowed Noah.
"Sorry, Kurt," Puck muttered. "Just don't talk like that about Rachel, got it?"
Kurt nodded somewhat dismissively but offered no apology for his comments. He didn't see anything wrong with what he said, so whatever.
Everyone stood around awkwardly.
"In the spirit of support, how about you and I do a duet?" Blaine suggested. "Dedicated to our leading men? You deserve some fun at your party after all of this drama."
Rachel nodded cheerfully while Puck eyed Blaine skeptically. They did have that crazy spin-the-bottle thing…and now Blaine had his hand dangerously close to her ass. Puck clenched his jaw involuntarily.
"Don't worry," Kurt assured him in a whisper. "Blaine is definitely gay."
Puck rolled his eyes and tried not to say something he'd regret.
Blaine told Rachel he had a song selected for them, if she didn't mind. She raised her eyebrow at his choice—a favorite of her dads. "While I agree that we had a great 80s duet the last time we did this, this isn't a duet."
He shrugged easily. "We'll fix that." As the 80s beat started, Blaine changed his mind about the tempo—he didn't want the song to sound like a joke when the lyrics were so great. "Actually, how about I just play it on guitar and we'll watch for the words?" He turned down the volume on the karaoke machine and grabbed a guitar from the stand. "Is this yours?" he asked as he strummed.
"My dad's," she answered. She supposed it was too late now to ask him to leave it alone. Then he started singing, and Rachel's mind was consumed with trying to follow the lyrics and turn the song into a duet. Blaine gave her an encouraging look as he began the first verse.
How, how can it be that a love carved out of caring
Fashioned by fate could suffer so hard
From the games played once too often?
But making mistakes is a part of life's imperfection
Born of the years.
Is it so wrong to be human after all?
Blaine smiled apologetically at Kurt. He hoped that Kurt knew how he felt. Then he turned to Rachel—he picked this song for his situation with Kurt and hers with Puck—almost an apology to her too. He was relieved when she joined in with a soft smile.
Drawn into the stream of undefined illusion
Those diamond dreams they can't disguise the truth
That there is something about you
Baby, so right.
I wouldn't be here without you, baby, tonight.
Rachel watched the lyrics scrolling on the screen and looked up at Noah.
If ever our love was concealed, no one can say that
We didn't feel a million things, and the perfect dream of life
Gone. Fragile but free,
We remain tender together
if not so in love.
It's not so wrong
We're only human after all.
Puck was sure what to make of the look Rachel was giving him—it seemed like she wanted him to understand the song. Love, not in love? He supposed that he'd just ask her, but he wasn't sure why he felt so anxious all of a sudden.
These changing years, they add to your confusion
Oh, and you need to hear the time that told the truth.
Because there's something about you
Baby, so right.
I wouldn't be here without you, baby, tonight.
Because there's something about you
Baby, so right.
I wouldn't be here without you, baby, tonight.
Kurt clasped his hands to his heart and swayed as Blaine strummed to the end of the song. Then he rushed the mini-stage to hug his boyfriend. Rachel smiled at the sight and demurely stepped down from the stage.
"What did you think?" she asked shyly.
"I think that's a great way to end your party," he smirked. "Let's get these mofos outta here so we can be alone," he whispered gruffly.
"I like being alone with you," she smiled.
He grinned. "Party's over, people!" he announced. "Thanks for comin' and all that!"
Kurt clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Ok, ok, but let's give Rachel a big 'happy birthday'…Say it with me…"
"Happy Birthday, Rachel!" came a somewhat coordinated shout, followed by a smattering of laughter.
"Thank you, everyone," Rachel smiled. "This really means a lot," she said sincerely. "And I really want to apologize again for the disruption to the fun caused by the intruder and police investigation."
"What's a party without the cops?" Santana smirked as she said goodbye to Puck and Rachel. Finn followed her, saying, "Yeah, it makes a cool story, right?"
Puck nodded at Finn's attempt at friendliness and Rachel smiled widely.
…
Most everyone was relieved to finally leave the party.
Puck and Rachel were relieved that they were gone too.
Aaron and Marshall weren't sure why Noah Puckerman wasn't leaving.
"I have a question for you," Puck said to Rachel's dads as they all stood awkwardly in the foyer.
"A question? I think this is the first time we've spoken tonight. Glad you could join us this evening, Noah," Aaron said, not budging from the front door.
"Yes, it's nice to see you're feeling better," Marshall said pointedly. "We weren't sure if we should expect you at the party after how poorly you seemed to feel at dinner last night."
Puck groaned inwardly. Shit. "Uh, yeah…Sorry about that…I was upset but I should have handled it better."
"Apology accepted," Aaron said formally.
"Thanks." Puck wasn't sure he'd ever heard anyone say that seriously before now. He went on with his request. "I'd like to park my truck in your driveway and spend the night," Puck started. "Not in Rachel's room or anything—I'm just hoping maybe it would keep Jacob from pulling anything else while the cops take their f-freakin' time. I don't wanna take any chances with that sh-slimeball."
Aaron appraised him thoughtfully. "Marshall and I will discuss it and get back to you."
"Ok," Puck nodded and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll be…around, uh, helping Rachel clean up the basement."
Puck and Rachel didn't get much accomplished before Aaron and Marshall came downstairs.
"Normally, we would not allow this type of overnight scenario, Noah, but we have decided that this occasion can be an exception," Aaron said.
Marshall added, "It's better to know where you are than to worry about you running around after that Jacob boy."
For a moment Puck thought he'd made a mistake—mind-fucked by the Berry's. Should he go after Jacob? Had he wasted a perfect opportunity to kick that shit-sucker's ass? But one look into Rachel's eyes erased that thought. He wanted to be near her; he had to be near her.
"Thank you, sirs," Puck said.
"Yes, thank you," said Rachel, as calmly as she could manage.
The Berry's decided that most of the cleanup could wait until the next day. Puck stood in the living room awkwardly as Rachel headed upstairs to her bedroom.
"So…I guess I'll sleep down here on the couch then…"
"Don't be silly," Rachel said as she stepped back down to take his hand. "You can sleep upstairs."
"In the guest room," Marshall said, coming around the corner with a folded bath towel in his hand. "It's all ready and just across the hall from Rachel's room—and our room," he finished without subtlety. "I was just bringing up a clean towel for you for when you shower."
"Thank you, sir," Puck said as he took the towel. "I really appreciate it."
Marshall nodded. "Good night, you two," he said before kissing the top of Rachel's head. "Good night, sweetheart."
Aaron came around the corner next, clearly already in his pajamas. "Quite an 18th birthday party, wasn't it?" he asked with chagrin.
"That it was," agreed Marshall as Rachel and Puck nodded.
"The security alarm's set, everyone," Aaron announced. "Noah, Rachel knows the code if you need to leave for any reason before we get up in the morning."
"Ok, thank you, sir."
"Good night then," Aaron said before giving Rachel a good night kiss and hug.
Everyone headed upstairs and to their respective rooms.
Puck hung at the door, not really sure what to do. Was that it? Now he was just supposed to sleep? He wasn't there to do more than just deter Israel from coming back, but he was kinda hoping for more…He looked at Rachel for a sign.
She gave a little wave and smile, then blew him a kiss, and closed her bedroom door—but not all the way.
He didn't know what the fuck to make of that. So he figured he'd just let her make the next move. She knew where he was so…yeah. He stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers and crawled into the bed. Fucking nice guest room—queen-sized bed—way better than his room at home. He hoped she was just waiting for her dads to fall asleep or something, and then she'd tiptoe into the room. Even if they didn't fool around or anything—it would be better just to hold her in his arms than to know she was so close yet so far.
Just as he was giving up hope, he heard a light tap at the door. He propped his head on his arm to watch her as she did just as he'd imagined—she tiptoed into the room in a totally exaggerated way. With her eyes wide, she put a finger to her lips in an unnecessary gesture warning him to be quiet.
Such a drama queen, he thought with a smile. He lifted the blanket for her. "Get in here!" he whispered playfully. "What took you so long?"
She bit her lip and smiled. "I guess I was just waiting for the right time." Then she looked at him somberly. "I think that's what always takes me so long. I used to rush into everything," she said, thinking of Finn, Jesse, her first make-out and break up with Noah. "Now I'm trying to work on my timing."
"Hmm, well, do you think now is the right time for this?" he asked as he leaned in for a slow kiss.
"It's always the right time for that," she breathed.
"Good to know." He settled back down in bed and patted his chest to offer it as her pillow. She snuggled in next to him. "How about this? Good time for this?"
"Mm-hmm," she affirmed. "You have very good timing," she murmured contently.
"Thanks, B," he whispered as he kissed her hair.
"Thank you, Noah," Rachel said sleepily.
"For what?"
"For being here." She closed her eyes.
"Nowhere else I'd rather be."
I love you, she thought. Then her eyes snapped open in fear that she'd said it out loud. "I-I missed you," she said even as she realized that she hadn't spoken the L-word. But she also realized that what she had spoken out loud was true too.
"Huh?"
"When we didn't talk, and I didn't see you, and I didn't know what was going on and what you were thinking…I just really missed you. I felt so alone…" she trailed off.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered as he squeezed her tightly.
"It's ok. You don't have to be sorry. Just be with me so I don't feel that way again." She hated the desperation in her voice, but she couldn't control her need for him. She looked into his eyes, straining to see by the dim light cast by the digital clock.
"I don't wanna hurt you, Rach," he said quietly, sadly.
"Then don't. You won't!"
He wasn't so sure it was that easy. He just knew that he didn't want to hurt her. He kissed her goodnight. "I won't," he assured them both.
I won't.
…
A.N. Thanks everyone for reading! SO sorry for the unexpected delay—sister had her baby early (not too early though-no big concerns)! I was distracted by that, among other things.
Contest question: The show Party Down has the same creator, writers, and several cast members from another canceled show. What show is it that has the closest relationship to Party Down? (First correct wins a prize.)
Bonus question: How does the title of this chapter (On Your Porch) relate to the answer to the contest question?
You don't have to know the answer to the bonus question to win the chapter contest. If the first person to answer the contest question doesn't answer the bonus question, the first person to answer the bonus question will get a prize too.
Happy trivial pursuits ;)