L'Chayim

Chapter Twenty-One

"And if I Rained for You"

When she steps away, and their fingers tangle together, he knows. She's going to take a leap of faith with him, and he's going to hold her until the end, and he'll catch her the best way he knows how. But if he can't catch her, if something happens and he can't, then he'll be right there holding her hand and falling with her. That's the important thing, that they won't change. He's so fucking grateful that she fights for them, too.

Opening the door, he uses his key to unlock it, shoving it open and following her inside. "Is it so bad," he whispers desperately, kicking the door closed with his foot and wrapping his arms around her waist, his lips finding her neck in a way that they haven't in six weeks, "that I hope it works today? We need to be happy again. Like a fuckin' phoenix, babe. Rising from the goddamn ashes. We can do this." He tilts his head, rests his temple against her own. "I need you to make the first move," he breathes almost inaudibly. "So I know you want this... and I'm not pushing you into it." Much as it had been when he had finally proposed to her, he'd planned the basics and delegated tasks and set smaller things in motion so that when he did finally propose, she would know that he was serious. He was. He is. He'll always be.

Quinn shakes her head. It's not bad that he hopes that, but she doesn't. She has agreed to give it a chance, but she's not sure that she's ready to be pregnant again just yet. If they do get pregnant again, she kind of hopes it'll take its sweet time in happening. Her hand rises to his face and she kisses him gently. He needs her to start this, and she understands. "I love you," she whispers against his lips, taking his hand. "I want... to go to our room, okay? Just... go with me? I want..." She doesn't really need to tell him. She needs to show him. And she does, tugging his hand gently as she ascends the steps to their bedroom.

Puck relaxes against her as she strokes his cheeks with her fingertips, kissing him sweetly. It's the confirmation he needs - that she wants this, that she's okay with it and the possibility that she could get pregnant again - and he twists their fingers together once more. "I want to be with you again," he whispers in response, following her, one foot at a time, up the stairs and to their bedroom. "I miss you so much, Q. Th - thank you for letting me have this. I know you're scared, but I'm gonna be with you, and - we can be scared together, okay?" After he speaks, he remains silent until they cross the threshold to their room; he presses the door closed behind them and moves to take her in his arms, folding her close to his chest as he kisses her hair. "Remember the first time we made love after we did the niddah thing that Rabbi Greenberg told us about? We were, like, quiet and slow and soft. Can we do that again? Please?"

Quinn lets him hold her, because that is what she needs in this moment. She nods quietly. She can't imagine doing it any other way tonight. They have hurt so much - cried and ached and disagreed so much - that she can't imagine anything other than gentle, tender caresses and slow movements and quiet love that would suffice for her after what they've been through. She raises her eyes to meet his, and presses a soft, tentative kiss to his lips. "I've missed you so much..." she whispers. Not that he'd been anywhere, but it wasn't the same. "I love you, Noah... I love you."

He nods, once, tilting his head to brush his lips over hers once more. "I missed you, too. I missed this. We were supposed to be happy, baby." And they're not happy, but they can get there... someday. His hands caress her shoulder blades, sliding down to brush his hands beneath the hem of the shirt she wears. "Slow, baby. I wanna make love to you, nice and slow. It's gonna be our first time since... everything, and I don't wanna hurt you." Before she speaks, he nuzzles against her jaw, sealing his mouth to hers in a tender kiss.

Quinn nods, about to agree, but before the words come his mouth is on hers, and her arms slip tight around his neck. Her eyes close, tears rising to the surface again. Ever since losing Adin, tears are on constant standby. She clings to him, hungry and desperate to be with her husband again. "We'll be happy again," she says softly, between kisses. "We have to be happy again..."

His thumbs brush slow circles on her hipbones as they hold tightly to one another, his teeth nibbling on her lower lip before he presses his mouth more firmly against hers and slides his tongue against the seam of her lips. "Mmmmm," he hums softly, her tears splashing hot against his face. Slowly, slowly, he eases her shirt up her torso, his fingertips tracing swirls over the skin of her back as he goes.

Her lips part, and she lets her body rest against his. She has longed for this since the day they lost Adin. Every time they are lost and confused, they find what they need in each other's arms, and this time, they weren't able to seek it at first. She moves a little to assist him in getting her shirt off, and her hands immediately go for his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers again.

He tosses her shirt to the floor, and promptly pulls away, fumbling for one last crashing kiss as he knocks her hands to the side and whips his shirt off and against the wall. Slow lovemaking makes way for a need to feel her naked skin against his yesterday and not a minute later. His hands slide up the smooth muscle of her back to deftly unclasp the back of her bra. He's had a considerable amount of practice doing that in his lifetime, especially when it comes to Quinn, since he's been doing it since he was eighteen [she wouldn't let him do it before his eighteenth birthday, when they'd stood nearly-naked in the shower - Quinn wearing that ridiculous-but-sexy bikini as they stood and her hands had pumped him, her eyes a soft green as she'd asked him to teach her how to do it, and he'd bubbled up in foamy ribbons against her stomach and palms] and he's certain that he could do it in his sleep. He hasn't unsnapped her bra in six weeks other than to remove it when changing her clothes for her, the intimacy of the moment less sensual and mostly comforting than it had been in times previous. Now, it's all about sensuality and sexuality and love all wrapped up in the need for comfort and sameness and some degree of normalcy. Their lives have been anything but normal for the past six weeks and that needs to change.

Now.

He eases [yanks, and then his grip loosens as brain takes over for body memory and he realizes, yeah, this is different from the last time] her bra down her arms, tugging the straps from her wrists and dropping it on the floor. It's pretty and it's lacy and it disappears under his socked foot as he walks her backward towards the bed. "I need to feel you," he murmurs, his hands sliding down over her hips and stroking at her thighs. "I miss you. I need to make you remember how I feel on you - in you."

This? This is everything Quinn and Puck need. They are each other's greatest weakness, and each other's greatest strength, and there is nothing - nothing - in this world that will comfort them like the safety and familiarity of each other's arms.

She undoes the button and zipper of her jeans (her old ones, because most of the baby fat is gone now), and pushes them down, hooking her panties in her fingers and taking them with the jeans. Completely bare, she lies down on their bed, reaching both hands out to urge him toward her. "I miss you, too," she whispers. "I don't want to miss you anymore, Noah..."

They've felt so lost since the day they lost their son, but today? They will find themselves in each other... in the love that they share. And right now? Quinn needs that more than she's ever needed anything else.

His eyes follow the motion of her hands as she undresses; his own hands unfasten his belt and jeans, shoving both down his hips before dragging his boxers to the floor. He doesn't need to see his actions to perform them, and it allows him to watch, awed, as she reveals inch by inch of bare skin. He's seen this skin in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, in a bikini and wrapped shivering in a peacoat, or cuddled in a blanket with the flu and a mug of chicken noodle soup or round with his children. It's skin that he loves, and he watches as she stretches naked on top of their bed [the bed that's seen them through four years of living together in their own home, and holiday sex and birthday sex and Valentine's sex and just-because sex and make-up sex and comfort sex and non-kosher-during-shiva sex and wedding night sex and struggling to conceive sex and celebrating getting her knocked up sex (that's the one they did for weeks... and weeks...)]; he loves this woman and everything she is to him. "I love you so much," he says again to her, climbing on his hands and knees to hover his body over hers. "I need us to stop hurting."

"I need... I need us," she says simply, and as strangely worded as it sounds, it's perhaps the truest statement Quinn has ever made. She needs them, because she may be weak, and he may be weak, but they are strong. They need each other, and she knows that this moment is far more than sex, or even than a moment of comfort between husband and wife. This moment is their declaration of their dedication to life, no matter what death has taken from them. Their son is gone, but he will never leave their hearts. They still have Beth and each other, and the promise that, if they made it through this? They will make it through any and everything life throws at them. Death... fear... heartache had tried to take this away from them - their love, their life, the intimate relationship that has only grown since he made her his wife - but they won't let it. They are beaten, but they have not lost.

She looks up at him, hazel eyes shining with tears as her hands slips up his shoulder to rest on his cheeks, thumbs stroking the slightly rough skin of his face. Raising up slightly from the bed, she presses her lips to his, needing to feel him in the familiar way she's felt him before, and needing to feel him with all the tenderness of those whose sorrow is greater than their years, but whose love is greater than their sorrow.

No, this isn't just sex to them. It's the only way they know to find a true moment of peace, and maybe even a hint of happiness. And even if it's only a moment, Quinn will cling to it with all she has.

She meets him halfway, her gaze wet and wide and trusting; she's always trusted him, even if she'd followed the guideline of trust but verify early in their relationship. Thirty days with nothing, including sexting? She'd spontaneously confiscate his phone and skim through the texts, depositing it in his outstretched hand with a smile when she found no incriminating evidence. She'd trusted him when he told her of how they'd graduate and get their own place to live, and how he'd be a dad and work and take care of them, and she could go to school and they'd have their own independent family at the age of nineteen. She'd trusted him when he had agreed to the reversal of his vasectomy, insisting that it was what he wanted, too, and she'd trusted him when he'd planned the majority of their wedding and honeymoon before he'd even surprised her with an actual proposal. His trust in her had been unwavering, and he couldn't even think of a time where trusting her was difficult - except for in the unsteadiness following Adin's death, and, even then, that had been his own fears and inadequacies ruling his mind.

His arms surround her as she rises to meet him; lowering his body to hers, they lie together, bodies pressed from head to knee, calves and feet tangled as they kiss. So many times, their lovemaking has been quick and rushed with the urgency of need you now, even when they've had nearly infinite time to enjoy each other. His body nearly complies with what is being asked of it, and he pulls away from the kiss only to bury his face in the curve of her neck and breathe slowly, shakily. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. This shouldn't be momentous, because they've been together for five years, but it still is. It is. It feels as though the rest of their lives depends on this one moment, these minutes where they stay closed in their bedroom and nothing in the outside world matters except for one another and the love they know they share.

"I'm scared," he whispers as his lashes lie dark on his tanned cheeks. "I just - I need you to know that I'm scared, too. I love you, and I miss you, and - we can be scared together, okay?" His lips meet as he tenderly kisses her throat, tilting his head to trail light kisses over the curve of her jaw. "Wanna hold you like this," he breathes, his lips meeting hers; his are hot and dry, hers slightly swollen and moist. "Don't wanna let you go."

Quinn nods, her hands tracing gently down his arms as she tilts her chin up to kiss him. "I want you..." she whispers softly, eyes locked on his as she concentrates on syncing her breathing with his. "... to touch me... Please..." Her legs part just a little, drawing him closer to her, hands running over his shoulders then upward to caress his mohawk... It's silly, but it's been her way of comforting him for as long as she can remember.

I want you, too, he thinks, gently nibbling on her lower lip as he kisses a trail to the corner of her mouth and down over the curvature of her jaw. "I don't just - want to touch you," he whispers before licking at her throat in explanation. "I want to. Please, it's been - so long." His kisses pause at the hollow of her throat. "Please. Not until you come, but I just need - I want to feel you get close."

It takes her a moment, but she thinks she understands, and she nods up at him. "I need you... Please, just... Please?" Her eyes are dark with desire, though lust is hardly the driving force in this moment. His lips are tender on her face, and she carefully spreads her legs beneath him. Her hand finds his face and gently presses against his cheek so she can look him in the eye. "Noah..." she whispers. Nothing more. Nothing less. She is terrified of life without him, and this moment is their promise to each other that as long as they're both breathing, they won't be alone.

"Tell me to stop if you need me to stop," he whispers, his breath warm against her sternum as his kisses travel downward, pausing only as her palm cups his cheek and encourages him to lock his eyes with her own. "Quinn." The single syllable of her name is breathed in an exhale, soft and tender. "I love you," he whispers once more before continuing his journey down the length of her torso, kissing over the ridges of ribs and the soft skin of her stomach. I missed doing this, he thinks as his tongue traces over the crease of her hip, following the line down between her thighs and kissing softly as her legs part and he lies between them.

Her eyes drift shut, relishing the feel of his touch, his lips on her skin. "Don't stop..." she replies softly. "Don't ever stop..." He moves lower and lower, and her body shivers against him. "Noah, I love you, too..." she says softly, his tender kisses earning him the softest of moans from her lips. Her own hands follow the path he's made down her body until they've once again found his mohawk, stroking lightly against the short hair. Opening her eyes, she peers down at him, opening her legs even wider to let him closer and give him more room. "Noah, I love you," she repeats... Those simple words are, for her, right now, the ultimate truth. She loves him, and their family, too much to bury herself in her sorrow and fear anymore. She can't remember where she heard the phrase Be afraid, but do it anyway, but it is her mantra right now.

"I won't," he breathes, his mouth dropping the first of many slow kisses over her folds. He moves at an agonizingly slow pace, intent on tasting the flesh and fluid between her thighs, pink and shiny as she shivers and murmurs her love for him. So beautiful. You're so beautiful. All the self-control he can muster keeps him from devouring her like a wild animal the way he's done so many times before this time, before Adin. "Love you," he whispers against her body, trailing the tip of his tongue around her entrance and gathering her flavor on his lips. He moans; over the days and weeks and months and years, her flavor changes subtly but it's always the same as far as he believes because he loves her and always will and like the fucking road that isn't taken, that's what makes all the difference.

Quinn's head rolls back on the pillow, and a small squeal escapes her, only to be swallowed up in a moan. She cries out, her toes curling at the feeling of his mouth on her. "Oh, God..." Her hips begin to lift on their own, pushing harder against his mouth. Her heart pounds in her chest as her teeth sink into her bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut. "I need..." She can't speak enough to form sentences that make sense, but she needs him inside of her. "Please... Please..."she begs.

He pulls away for a moment, resting his cheek against her inner thigh as he studies her face between his softly-panted breaths. "Please make you come, or make love to you?" he asks, his voice low and ragged. He wants both - he doesn't know what he wants - he's still that sixteen-year-old kid who doesn't know what he wants, sometimes. Thirty seconds is long enough to wait, and he crawls to hover over her body, sliding his arms around her ribs once more. "Help me." His voice is soft, imploring. "I need you to help me, babe."

So many times before he's said those same words to her, but she's not sure she's ever heard them with such a quiet tenderness. Her hand snakes down between them to slide him up and down as she did 5 years ago, almost to the day... the first time they made love after getting back together. Gentle and slow, so painfully slow, she guides him into her. Any other time, her eyes would squeeze shut, but this time? She locks her eyes with Puck's, focusing on being aware of all of this.

He holds his breath as she carefully takes him in hand, and pushes into her with gentle precision. The last thing they need now is any more pain, and this is their first time - since Adin. He keeps telling himself that, that this could be that metaphorical phoenix that rises from the ashes left behind after Adin's death. "Are you okay?" he breathes, his lips peppering her collarbones and face with kisses, kisses to her cheeks and chin and throat and lips and jaw and nose and mouth. He won't move until she tells him that she feels good, that she'll get used to the fullness, until she moves her hips against his in wordless encouragement. She's warm, and tight and wet around his length, and his hips rest flush against her thighs as he waits.

She slowly moves her hips, wiggling to adjust to him, before nodding at him. "Mmmhmmm..." She's not okay, but right now, with him, feeling their bodies become one again, she finally believes that one day, she might be okay again. Aching for more of him, her hips arch upward, a whimper her only vocal response to the feeling. Her hand curls against his neck, as their lips press together.

Yes, he thinks; his body and mind flood with a sense of Quinn and nothing else. They are family, and happiness, and love, and one. They could heal. He presses deep, his knees digging into the mattress as he settles down and grinds harder against her in a slow figure-eight before pulling backward. "Fuck, baby," he exhales as he presses in once more, his eyes never leaving her face no matter how much he might want to pull back and watch as he slides slick inch by slick inch into her body. Her breasts draw tightly, her nipples puckered; he ducks his head to take one into his mouth, suckling slowly before pressing a kiss to the dark circle before licking his way to lavish the same attention on its twin. He's done the same thing so many times before [sometimes with tequila and salt involved]. "Don't ever push me away, baby," he pleads, struggling to keep his thrusts slow and deep. "I don't ever - wanna be away from you."

"I... I don't want to be without you..." she murmurs through sighs and moans that he is so good at drawing from her. Her hand is soft on his neck as she urges him to move so that she can focus on his eyes again. She concentrates everything on the emotion and intimacy of this moment. She believes right now that they might one day be okay again... more than okay... Happy even. "I love you..." she cries out, her hips shifting desperately upward, needing him more than she's ever needed anything. "Don't ever... leave me, Noah..."

"I won't," he promises, his lips traveling upward and leaving kisses over her collarbone and throat in their wake. His mouth finds hers; he kisses her delicately, remaining still for just a moment as he twitches, buried deep inside her. "I love you - I'm right here - never leaving, never." His forehead presses to hers, his gaze locked with hers, exhaling softly against her lips as he pulls away and thrusts deep again.

She knows that he means it, and despite everything, she feels safe here, held by him in their bed, his lips traveling her face and neck, and comforting her, and loving her. This is home and family, and what makes her stronger makes him stronger, too, and what hurts one of them hurts the other, and she will make it because he will make it, and vice versa. Her hands are gentle on his back as she focuses on his face, eyes locked, noses and foreheads touching, breathing the same air. He slowly moves again, and despite what her body is telling her, she forces her eyes to stay open, lost in his... She needs every bit of intimacy that this can bring her, and she will take everything she can. Tilting her chin up, she kisses him gently. "I love you, Noah... I love you..."

He doesn't speak for a few moments; his hips thrust against hers in simple missionary position, rarely utilized in their lovemaking. His knees always hurt, or he rolls onto his back and pulls her on top of him, spanking her bottom for good measure and smirking as she rides him hard. It's not one that he often chooses, but - right now - it works, and he presses his forehead against hers, arching his back and moving only his hips back and forth, pressing deep, pulling away from her before pressing deep once more.

"We're gonna be okay," he breathes, his lips pressing to hers in a kiss. "We're gonna make it okay. Just don't leave me, don't - don't ever stop trying."

"I... I'm never leaving you, Noah. I promise you... I'm yours... I was always yours..." There is so much pain after all they've been through, but they love each other so much. Her hips rise from the bed to meet his thrusts. "I missed this," she whispers honestly. "You... I missed you." She moans as they move together, her fingers gripping his shoulders tight. "I need you, baby."

Her nails bite gently into his shoulders, her moan muffled against his throat. It's good, and it's been too fucking long since they've been together this way and shared these moments and moans. "You got me," he whispers. "You know you always got me, even though all of the shit we go through. I'm yours. I'm never gonna be anybody else's. I'm never gonna stop loving you." They move together, but he wants her to feel it, to know how she possesses him just as much as he keeps her. Dropping onto one elbow, he lightly shifts his weight, moving slowly to lie on his back and maneuvering her to lie atop him.

Quinn moves with Puck; it's simple... Quinn can't really explain it, but there is something natural and easy about making love with Puck. They instinctively know each other; they move with each other and there's never really a need for questions. With almost imperceptible movements, glances, and soft words, they direct one another. She comes to rest on top of him, her eyes filled with love as she looks down at him. Slowly, with long strokes, she moves up and down on him, her eyes slowly squeezing shut as she moves. "I love you," she sighs, leaning close to him to press her lips to his. "Oh, God... Noah..." They have lost so much, but this? They can't lose this. She won't let herself shut him out again. She won't let the fear take away the love that is so strong between them. There are tears rolling down her face, tears of the heartbreak they're too young to have faced, and tears of joy in the love that they've held onto despite it all... "I'm yours, too..." she whispers against the stubble on his cheek. "I will always be yours."

Puck turns his head as best he can; she rests fully against him, his chest to hers, something that they weren't able to do as her pregnancy progressed. It was a bittersweet moment when he'd realized that they couldn't make love this way until after their baby was born, but he'd give it all back, and he'd do it without complaining, making love to her with a beach ball between them if they could only have their son back again. He never understood how something - someone - they'd wanted so badly was taken from them, and there were people out there who didn't want their someones, parents who didn't want their kids or abused their kids or worse, and he and Quinn - who wanted this - couldn't have it. The thought has troubled him since Adin's death.

He focuses on his wife, on her soft pale skin against his darker body, and the way her hair feels silky against his shoulder. "I love you," he repeats with an exhaled breath, leaning back against the pillows and finding her hips with his hands, guiding her to slide up and down his length as he inhales sharply at the sensation. "Baby, I love you, but I'm not gonna last." He wishes he could last forever, as long as she wants.

Quinn moves against him, a little faster, her palms spread flat over his chest. She knows he's close, even before he speaks, and she doesn't care. He's never left her unsatisfied, even when he comes first, and she knows this will be no exception. Faster. Harder. She urges him toward his release, her lips pressing firmly against his. "It's okay," she whispers, peppering his face with kisses. "It's okay, Noah... It's okay." She's not sure why she's repeating those words of all things, given how far from okay everything is, but she knows as she says them, that she's not just speaking to him. She's trying to convince herself. "I love you..."

She tightens around him reflexively; his back arches. "Fuck," he breathes, because it is just that good, and it's been so fucking long and he's pretty sure that if this lasts any longer, he's either going to have a heart attack or not be able to move for the next twelve hours. His hips jerk beneath her, bouncing her atop him as his hands grip harder at her thighs. The tightening begins at the base of his spine and deep in his abdomen, his thighs aching, and the buzz that had started deep in his belly spreads through his entire body. "Fuck, baby, I can't - I love you," he pants, gasping the words in a desperate whisper. His hands grind her down, pushing her deep down upon him as he jerks, pulsing within her in hot rushes. "I love you," he repeats as his body falls limp, blinking dazedly at his wife.

Quinn feels his release, and it's only then that it hits her that there is no going back. She has felt the fear, but moved forward anyway, and somehow, she feels a million times safer now. Facing fears, and doing so with Puck? That has been her way for as long as they've been together. This is no different.

Her release is fractions of a second behind his, and she collapses forward, gasping for air, her head pressed into the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut. "I love you, too," she murmurs, her fingers threading through his mohawk slowly. "We... we did this," she says, finding pride in the fact that they made it over this obstacle together, just like every other obstacle they've faced.

"We've always done this," he whispers against her temple, his eyes closing as his body relaxes fully. "We get through everything together, Q. Told you we could do this." And they'll know in two weeks, really, if they've done it this time, and he hopes like hell that she's ready for whatever comes next. Despite it all, despite lying sweaty together after going through some of the most difficult shit he could imagine, they're here now and they will get through the rest of this, even as his hand rests heavy against her hair and his eyes close from overexertion [it's been awhile]. He shifts beneath her, his hands moving to adjust her hips and press her more comfortably against his body. "I love you," he mutters.

Author's Note

Firstly, we'd like to apologize for the wait. Our last chapter [20] was posted 20 June, and this chapter is being posted 29 July. Several family emergencies have prevented us from writing as often as we'd like. They are still ongoing, so we would ask you to please bear with us.

We would also, as always, like to thank those of you who are reading and reviewing, as well as those who are adding L'Chayim as a Favorite Story or adding it to Story Alert. Thank you!

written in hearts - Thank you for your compliments - we're flattered and grateful! We decided to try a bit of romance in this chapter, and we hope that is satisfies and meets your expectations.

olacindy - We are so glad that you are continuing to enjoy L'Chayim. Much of what we write is from our own experience, and we try to be as truthful as we can. It can be disheartening sometimes to read a poorly-written story that seems to be a crowd-pleaser, but we know that we are doing our best and we hope that our audience continues to enjoy our writing.

dancingdreamers - We hope that this chapter pleases you just as much! [Is this another hugging-your-desktop opportunity?] Thank you for your kind words; they are always motivating!

finchelquickftw - Everybody seems to grieve in different ways; both of the authors have experienced significant losses within recent months, and Puck and Quinn's reactions spawned from a discussion of grief and how different individuals handle grief. We hope that we have been true to character in writing their feelings and disagreement, and will continue to explore the issue from multiple angles. Thank you for remaining with us!

lucklessforhim - Thank you so much! We apologize for the delay in this update [admittedly, Glee Live was also involved, although that was more in the early days of writing this chapter]. Puck and Quinn seem to have a very complicated yet simple relationship on multiple levels, and we hope that we can adequately illustrate that as well as show how they work so well as a couple.