AN: Here is the next installment! I want to thank you all for your support and feedback! You all rock! Please R&R! :o)


Should I stay or should I go now
If I go there will be trouble
An' if I stay it will be double
So come on and let me know
"Should I Stay or Should I Go?" ~ The Clash

It was her first real high school party. She wished she could say she'd been to more, but up until about a week ago, Rachel was still the social outcast of the school. Then, last week, Finn Hudson joined Glee club. Now, she was still a social outcast, but she was pretty sure with a popular guy like Finn in the club, her social stock was bound to rise. Right? After all, he invited her to this party tonight. Of course, she was hoping that, with his goofy smile and gap-toothed grin, he was asking her to the party tonight as a pseudo-date, but alas, he came with his girlfriend, Quinn Fabray, and was by her side the whole night.

So, there she was, dressed up in a black jean miniskirt and a gold and black tank top and black gladiator sandals that laced up to her knees. Her outfit was nothing like she normally wore to school, but Rachel knew that if she was going to climb the social ladder, she at least needed to fit in. Rachel walked in to Matt Rutherford's house apprehensively. She knew Finn invited her, but she was still a little nervous about attending. Scanning the crowd of people in the living room, she spotted Matt and Mike talking to some Cheerios. They caught her eye and smiled. Of all the jocks that played tricks on and threw slushies at her, Mike and Matt had never done anything. Those boys were quiet and sweet; much like they always had been when all of them were friends as kids. Before they all started high school and drifted apart. Before the boys became jocks, and she became a geek.

Rachel gave them both quick waves and flashed them a smile but quickly averted her eyes. She didn't want them to be embarrassed by her or anything. Her eyes were still down as she entered the kitchen, only to run smack dab into someone with a very solid chest. She stumbled and the stranger's arms shot out quickly to catch her by the waist before she could fall.

"Sorry," she mumbled, too embarrassed to look up.

"You okay?" a smooth, deep voice asked concernedly, his hands not moving from their spots at her hips.

Rachel's eyes flew up in surprise. "Noah?"

"Oh!" Puck jumped a little, but he recovered easily. "Hey, Berry, if you wanted my hands all over you, all you had to do was ask," he crooned with a superficial smirk.

Rachel's face contorted into a glare; she figured he would have some smart remark toward her. As if the slushies and rumors for the last year weren't enough. She rolled her eyes and gave a smirk of her own, "Well, Noah, considering the fact that I am perfectly steady on my feet, and you are the one that still has a hold on me, I'd say you wanted to touch me."

Puck chuckled at the look on her face, and he slowly lifted his hands from her waist, purposely gliding his fingers over the sliver of skin that showed between her skirt and her shirt. He made a mental note of the shiver that passed over her body at the contact. "Touché, Berry."

Rachel nervously tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She expected Puck to get out of her way so she could get some water, but he seemed perfectly content to stand there leaning on the kitchen door frame and watching her.

Puck was surprised to see Rachel Berry at a party. She looked good, almost normal, almost hot. Inwardly, he scoffed. Like this, Rachel Berry was hot. After Puck finished his leering, he met his eyes with hers once more. Her eyes, the ones that used to be so open and trusting were now guarded and skeptical. He hated that he had done that to her. Peer pressure is a nasty thing though. Since he and the guys walked on Varsity their freshman year, Puck felt like he had a standard to live up to. And Rachel Berry, as much as she was a part of his past, had no place in his present. That didn't mean, however, that he couldn't innocently tease her, to see exactly how much he could get away with from her.

"So," he drawled, leaning closer to her ear, "Berry, why do you insist on wearing grandma clothes when you could be rocking this look every day? With your hot little body, you could totally pull it off."

Rachel flushed instantly, and she hated that she let herself be affected by him. "Noah, you know me well enough to know that I do not care what other people think of me. I will dress how I want to," she said indignantly.

"Ahh, but that's where you're wrong, Berry," Puck said, moving yet another step closer. "Because I know you, I know that you do care what other people think. You just hate to admit it."

Rachel's jaw slacked. She couldn't believe he would say such a thing. He had no right to pretend like he knew anything about her. And just as she was about to formulate words to tell him so, he blurted out, "You know, this is the most you've talked to me in a long time."

Rachel recoiled as if she'd been slapped. He wanted to accuse her of not talking to him? "Well," she huffed past him, "you haven't exactly given me much of a chance, Puck."

Then, as he watched her walk into the kitchen, it was Puck's turn to flinch. In all the years they'd known one another, even through all the crap he put her through, she never pulled out the name Puck. He was always Noah to her. He didn't even try to tell himself that didn't hurt just a little.

Rachel stood in the middle of the kitchen, not knowing exactly what she was doing other than getting away from Noah. It was still surprising that the littlest things he did could fluster her so much.

"Wanna drink?" a voice broke through her thoughts.

She turned to find Brittany holding out a cup to her expectantly.

"What is it?" Rachel asked warily. She had had alcohol before, just under the supervision of her fathers on special occasions. She just wasn't comfortable drinking alcohol in social situations, especially with a bunch of underage kids who didn't even like her very much. She wondered for the fifth or eightieth time why Finn even invited her if he wasn't even going to speak to her.

"It's just Hunch Punch," Brittany shrugged.

Rachel took it hesitantly and sniffed the cup. It didn't smell like alcohol. She took a small sip. It tasted like fruit punch. It didn't even have the slightest hint of alcohol flavor. She sighed in relief. It was nice to know that Matt had at least one beverage besides water that was non-alcoholic. She drank happily, not realizing how thirsty she really was. She filled up her cup and drank it all in one large gulp. Hoping to satisfy her thirst, she filled her cup again before heading out to the living room to find someone, anyone to talk to.

Rachel smiled as Matt and Mike made their way over to her. They were sipping on beers which they set on the counter before approaching her. "Hello, boys," she greeted politely.

"Hey Rachel," Matt said. "Thanks for coming." He did his best to keep the look of question off his face, so Rachel decided to do a little clarifying.

"Finn invited me," she said over the loud music.

"Oh, gotcha," Matt nodded in understanding.

"Are you having fun?" Mike asked with a grin.

"Yes, thank you," Rachel smiled as she downed the last of her punch. Was it getting hot in the room to anyone else?

"Your cup is empty," Matt pointed out. "I'll go fill it up."

"Thank you, Matt," Rachel said, handing Matt the cup. She fanned herself as she turned to Mike who was swaying like he wanted to start dancing. He caught her staring, and she giggled loudly as he blushed.

"Wanna dance, Rach?" Mike asked, nodding to the center of the room which had been cleared for a makeshift dance floor.

Rachel looked over and saw a few couples dancing, but no one was really paying much attention. "Sure," she said, glancing toward the kitchen.

"Matt can hold your drink for a little bit," Mike winked as he gently led her by the small of her back toward to the center of the room.

Mike was one of the best dancers Rachel knew. And it wasn't just hip hop or poppin' and lockin' as Mike liked to call it. He just had a natural rhythm. It was a rhythm Rachel almost forgot he had, seeing as she hadn't seen it in a long time. Mike spun her around and wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her hips with his. His chest was solid against her back, and she swung her arm up around his neck. To her, who had known Mike for most of their lives and felt nothing romantic toward him, there wasn't anything sensual about his movements. To Puck, who had been watching Rachel ever since she brushed past him, there was no reason in his opinion why he shouldn't just stalk over there and punch Mike for touching her like that.

Puck didn't know where the insane amount of jealousy came from, but it was there all of the sudden, coursing through his veins and he couldn't stop it. He rolled his shoulders a few times and popped his neck from side to side. He needed to stop watching them, but the sway of Rachel's hips was hypnotic. Shaking his head again, Puck headed toward the kitchen. He needed another drink.

"Here you go, Rachel," Matt said cheerfully, handing her another cup. Rachel eagerly took the cup. She still couldn't believe how thirsty she was, but she chalked it up to all the dancing.

"Is it hot in here to anyone?" she asked casually, swaying from side to side. Her head felt a little fuzzy, and she didn't know why she couldn't stand still. "Oh, Matthew," she said, stumbling into Matt's chest, "I wanted to thank you for the delicious punch you have provided your guests to imbibe this evening."

Mike and Matt looked at each other quizzically. Was Rachel Berry buzzed? They watched her as she scanned the room, at first appearing to look for someone, then just moving her eyes to roam the room nonsensically. Then, she began to sing. Loudly. Scratch the buzzed. Rachel Berry was full on drunk.

"Rachel," Mike tried to get Rachel's attention over her rendition of "Don't Cry for Me Argentina."

"Rachel!" Matt cried, earning her attention. "How many cups of that punch have you had?"

Rachel scrunched her nose as she attempted to count. "Four?"

Matt shook his head as he pried the almost empty cup from her hand. "Okay, Evita, we're cutting you off," he said, leading her to the couch.

"But I haven't consumed any alcohol," she pouted. "Only punch."

Mike chuckled as he rolled his eyes at Matt. There was no use trying to explain the concept of Hunch Punch to Rachel. At least, not now, when she wouldn't remember a thing tomorrow.

"Rachel," Mike said, "I'm going to get you some water. You gonna be okay?"

"I'll watch her," Puck said gruffly. He had been eying their conversation since Matt brought the punch to Rachel. Personally, he found it hilarious that Rachel was this loosened up. But, he also knew some of the guys that were here at this party, and they wouldn't care if Rachel was drunk or not, if you caught his drift. So, of course, he had to watch out for her. She was Rachel. Social pressures be damned, at least for tonight.

"Okay, thanks, Puck," Mike nodded, as he and Matt went to grab her some water and some toast to soak up the alcohol.

The two sat in silence for a good minute or two before Rachel turned to him and exclaimed, "Noah!" as though she just noticed he was sitting there.

"Hey, Berry," he grinned lazily.

"Let's dance," she cried excitedly, standing up in a rush and almost face-planting it in the carpet before Puck's arm shot out and caught her from falling for the second time that night.

"Berry," Puck gritted out, rolling his eyes, "you are completely smashed. You can barely stand up and walk, much less dance."

"Well, then, I guess you will be holding me up then, won't you?" she said, her voice oddly breathy. That voice did odd things to his insides. He looked down at her to see her smiling cheekily, bright eyes shining up at him.

"All right," he relented. "Let's dance."

Rachel squealed and launched herself into Puck's arms, squeezing him tightly. Her body was pressed firmly against his, and Puck inwardly groaned at what the heat of her breath on his neck was doing to his body. She slid down his body to rest her feet on the ground, but she didn't let go of the hold she had on him. He roughly grabbed her hips and hauled her to him as they moved slightly to the beat. They weren't standing still, but they weren't really dancing either. At least they were doing enough movement to keep Rachel from complaining. He watched her every move, from the way her lips moved as she silently sang along to whatever song was playing to the way her eyes fluttered closed periodically to the way her head seemed to roll around on her neck like she couldn't keep it upright. Every time she rolled her head from one side to the other, Puck got this crazy urge to kiss her. He was about to question himself when Rachel spoke up.

"Noooaaahhhh," she sang out, "you're really cute, you know that?"

"Thanks, Berry," he chuckled.

"I really like your eyes," she smiled dreamily. "They change colors depending on your moods. Did you know that, Noah?"

He did know that. He knew that because she was the one who told him that at her seventh grade birthday party.


He really wanted to play video games with Finn that day, but his mom made him go to Rachel's party. All the kids from the Jewish Community Center were invited, and Puck's mom thought it would be rude not to attend. He showed up begrudgingly and shoved a card in her face.

"Thank you for coming," she had said sweetly.

"You're, uh, welcome," he had grumbled. He shifted his weight on the balls of his feet before mumbling softly, "It's not like I wanted to be here."

"I know," she had answered quietly, "but thank you anyway."

"What? How did you-?" he had stuttered.

"You're eyes are more brown today, which I know typically means you are upset. I deduced that, since your mother practically dragged you from the car, you most likely didn't want to be here," she had reasoned.

He murmured an apology before running off to find a soda. But he never forgot her comment about his eyes.


"Yeah, I did know that, Berry," he said, quickly bringing himself back into the moment.

"You know, your arms are very lovely, Noah," she said suddenly, wrapping her tiny fingers around his biceps.

Puck smirked as he flexed his muscles a little for her. "Yeah, the guns are pretty badass if I do say so," he boasted.

Rachel giggled as she idly ran her fingers up and down his arms. Puck was pretty sure she had absolutely no idea what she was doing to him.

"And your lips," she sighed. "They look really kissable. Are they, Noah?"

Puck bit back another groan, because seriously? She couldn't just say those things in a room full of people and not expect him to want to maul her right then and there. And there was really no good way to answer that comment.

Thankfully (or maybe not), she answered it for him, by covering his mouth with hers. And with Rachel Berry, there was no small build. She didn't work up to the main event; she went right for it. She used the element of surprise to dart her tongue into his mouth, causing them both to moan involuntarily. Even through the fruit punch, he could tell she tasted really good, like cinnamon and something else he couldn't place. She toyed with the hairs on the nape of his neck as she ran her tongue across the roof of his mouth. Puck grabbed her closer to him after that totally hot and totally unexpected move.

They broke for air, and Rachel grinned like she had accomplished some big task. "You do," she breathed.

"Do what?" he whispered gutturally.

"You. Have. Very. Kissable. Lips," she answered, punctuating each word with a lingering kiss to his mouth.

Puck didn't know what he was doing, but he grabbed Rachel's hand and pulled her upstairs. If they were going to make out (which he hoped they would be doing for a little while longer), he didn't want to do it in the middle of Matt's living room. So, he led her to Matt's brother's room. Matt's brother had been away at college for the last two years, and everyone who had ever attended a party at Matt's knew that Puck had dibs on that room for any of his personal conquests. Not that Rachel Berry was a conquest (she wasn't), but he at least knew if things were going to get hot between them, at least they'd have privacy.

He barely had time to shut and lock the door before she was on him again, assaulting his lips, his neck, his jaw, anything she could reach with her mouth. And it's not like Puck was complaining. He hadn't realized Rachel was that good of a kisser. He dismissed the jealous feeling that rose up in him at the thought of who it was that had taught her some of the tricks she was pulling out. But, he told himself not to think about it too much, because hot girl plus kissing plus touching plus over-thinking did not a sexy mood make.

Just as he was threading his fingers through her impossibly soft hair, the back of his knees hit the bed. He stumbled as she pushed him down onto the comforter with a sly grin on her face. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her lips were swollen, and her eyes were both bright from the alcohol and dark with desire. And all Puck wanted to do at that moment was kiss her again and again (and if he just happened to get to second base, then so be it). Here she was pushing him further up the bed, which he obviously didn't have a problem with.

Then, she straddled him, and warning bells went off in his mind. No, Puckerman, she's obviously drunk. She doesn't want this, his brain screamed at him. But, his body couldn't help but respond when she leaned him back, making him lie down on the bed as she sat above him. Then, she slowly lifted his shirt inch by inch, kissing his newly exposed skin as she did. Puck was pretty sure he'd never experienced something so simple yet so intimate and even erotic. By the time she reached his neck and eased his arms through each hole of his shirt while caressing his chest muscles, his breathing was shallow at best. All function ceasing from his brain, Puck pulled his shirt all the way off, and as he did, he captured Rachel's lips and deftly flipped her so she was lying on the bed beneath him.

"Let me return the favor," he grinned wickedly.

Hesitation flashed in her eyes for just a second, but it was gone so fast, he wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or not. Rachel smiled and nodded, craning her neck to kiss his bare shoulder. He wasn't called a sex shark for nothing. He moved painfully slow, inching her shirt up little by little, revealing soft skin as he kissed his way to the edge of her bra. The horny teenage boy part of him was stoked about nearing the promised land that was this beautiful girl's boobs, but there was a part of him that was trying to mature that told him he wasn't sure if this was what she really wanted. As his fingers skimmed the underside of her covered breast, Rachel froze and tensed up immediately. That is when he confirmed what he feared (and really knew) the whole time: she was not ready.

"Rachel?" he asked, lips at her toned stomach, but eyes on her face.

Rachel gulped. She didn't know how she had let it get as far as she did, and Puck was probably going to hate her for it, but she just couldn't. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I can't. I'm not-This isn't a good idea," she whispered.

Surprisingly, Puck wasn't as ticked off as he might've been with any other girl. He didn't know if it was because he knew it was coming or because of who it was. "It's okay," he admitted. He sat up and eased her shirt back down.

"Really?" she asked, obviously relieved.

"Really," he nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Suddenly, she bolted upright from her slumped place at the headboard. "Oh my gosh, I'm such a tease!" she whined.

"No, you aren't," Puck was quick to reassure.

Rachel raised a skeptical eyebrow at him and pursed her lips.

"Okay, well maybe a little," he relented, winking at her.

Rachel groaned and buried her face in her hands. She stayed that way for a second before propelling her body off the bed in a hurry. She had to get out; she was so embarrassed. "I should leave," she panicked. "I am so sorry. I'm so-I'm so embarrassed," she explained rushing for the door.

Puck didn't want her to go. One, he wasn't going to let her drive home when she was clearly not sober enough to do so, and two, there was no reason for her to be embarrassed and he needed her to see that. And three, he just really wanted (no, needed) her to stay. "No, Rach, don't go," he called. She stopped at the door but didn't turn around. He walked up behind her so that he was close enough to whisper in her ear. "Look, Rachel, I'm not letting you drive in this condition, and I'm definitely not letting you sleep downstairs with some random people, including guys I don't even trust."

"Well..." she hesitated.

"Rach..." he whispered tenderly. "Just stay. Please?"

Rachel turned to look him dead in the eyes and tried to focus, which was particularly hard when her head was still a little fuzzy. She searched him for any reason not to stay, but she found him to be serious about it (like she expected). "Okay," was all she said.

As he helped her unlace her shoes and tucked her into bed, he offered, "I'll even sleep on the floor, if you want me to."

"No, that's all right. You can sleep here," she said softly. She turned slightly to look at him and saw the hesitation in his eyes. She reached over and grabbed his arm, pulling him gently onto the bed to curl up behind her. "It's fine," she whispered.

Puck fell asleep spooning the last girl he honestly thought he would be with that night, but for some reason it felt so right.

The next morning, he got up slowly so as not to wake Rachel, who was still sleeping peacefully beside him. The light came through the window and shone in her face, causing her to unconsciously shift away from it so he pulled the blinds to darken the room. If her hangover was going to be anything like his had been in the past, she'd need all the sleep she could get. He stood at the edge of the bed, silently watching her sleep. He wasn't trying to be some creeper; she just looked so sweet and innocent with her hair splayed out over the pillow and her legs curled up to her chest as though she enjoyed sleeping in a tight, little ball. He chuckled softly as he left the room, making his way downstairs to grab a water bottle without disturbing the random people passed out in the living room.

On his way back upstairs, he stopped in Matt's bathroom. He'd been to enough parties at Matt's to know where to find the aspirin. He set the pills and the water on the nightstand, and still Rachel slept soundly. He wanted to wait for her to wake up, but he knew his sister would need to be picked up from her friend's house soon. Besides, it was silly to stay. She probably wouldn't remember a thing about last night (even though he would probably never forget it), and it would freak her out even more if she woke up with him staring at her. She would probably think the worst of the situation and assume she had done something she regretted, and Puck couldn't have her think that she had slept with a Lima loser like himself. He had been a gentleman last night, but he wasn't going to stick around to prove it.

He didn't know what last night was other than pretty awesome. Being there with her like that, he couldn't describe it exactly. It was like all the years of their convoluted past had trumped his actions toward her in the present. Like their problems they had with one another didn't exist. Like they were living back in time. Last night, he was just Noah, and she was just Rachel.

Puck sighed and moved to the side of the bed she had curled up to. He lightly brushed her hair out of her face, and when she didn't make a move to wake up, he took another chance and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She sighed softly at the contact, but her deep, steady breaths told Puck she wasn't really awake yet.

As he opened the bedroom door to leave, he could have sworn he heard Rachel quietly, almost inaudibly, mumble, "Thank you, Noah."


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