A/N: So this part kind of took a turn—like they all do. This is not turning into a Finn/Rachel fic. And I have ideas for at least two more parts after this so… please enjoy, please respond, and please ignore the fact that I'm not giving song credits because I'm freaking lazy. But all these songs really are part of the Karaoke Revolution empire. Also, the dates for Hanukkah here are a bit off (unless Rachel is turning 18 in 2014) but I've taken so many liberties with canon/fact at this point I don't care anymore.

Anyway, thanks for reading and replying. I'm still trying to get back to everyone for individual replies, but I kind of hope I get enough replies I can't keep up. You know what I'm saying! Feed my ego, please? Haha.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Glee.

Get It Back

Rachel had reached out with one hand to grab her drink from the table, never breaking her legs-crossed posture. Finn looked over at her amusedly but just for a second before he turned back to the game they were playing.

"What, is this turning into a drinking game?"

She released her lip hold on the pink straw and looked over at him. "Not necessarily. Noah was supposed to arrive. He had something to finish up," she said. She leaned forward to put her drink on the table and then started into the violent war game again. She stuck her tongue out as she expertly tilted the controller and slammed her thumbs down on a couple of buttons. Finn's side of the screen went red.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said flatly. He turned to the people behind them, which was most of the glee club. It was Rachel's birthday—her eighteenth no less—and her dads were out of town during Hanukkah so Puck had decided on a party. And he had yet to show up.

So Finn turned around to the room behind him. "All right, who's up?"

"Daaaamn, Rachel!" Artie offered. "Who knew two years ago when we started this that you would turn into the reigning Halo champion?" He had wheeled over and held his fist out to her. "Props."

She grinned and bumped her fist against his as she felt a buzzing in her pocket. "Oh!" She squeaked in surprised, reaching in as Finn sat down next to her on the couch.

"How did I get four slots of ass-kicking in a row?" he grumbled. "Where is Puck?"

Rachel giggled a little bit as she looked at her phone. "He got held up doing something for his mom." She tossed the jewel crusted phone into his lap and picked her controller back up to resume the game. "Text him something dirty from me."

"'scuse me?" Finn said as he watched her. He had managed to navigate watching the girl he still loved (still? Shut up. Who said that?) carry on a serious relationship with someone who had once been his best friend. But despite the year and a half of watching them fight, flirt, pout and even fool around (always on accident and kind of damaging) he had never felt so deep in the friend zone as he did the moment she asked him to sext her boyfriend back.

"You're probably better at it than I am," she said with an honest shrug.

Santana just so happened to overhear the exchange and so of course she called loud attention to it. She had finally backed off after an ugly confrontation with Rachel just before regionals—like out in the hallway right before they went on stage—last year. "Wait, hold up midget. Did you just tell Finn he's better at sexting than you?"

Rachel, still in her drunken oblivious fog, shrugged. "Probably."

Santana shook her head with a smirk and held her hand out. "Give it."

"But…"

"No, give it. This is different than when I said I would step off. This is me helping you," she offered with a defiant shake of the head.

"Umm… thank you?" Rachel said. Finn handed the phone over to Santana against his better judgment. Her fingers flew over the screen and then she tossed it right back into his lap. It landed right on target and he groaned unappreciatively.

Then Santana leaned down next to Rachel to speak in a low voice in her ear. "If you have any hope of living up to what I just promised for you, slow down on the hooch."

Rachel turned her head and gave a wide smile. The opening credits of the next round on Halo started up thanks to Finn's attention, and as she turned her head and settled back in to kick his ass again, she shrugged. "Noted. Thank you." She struggled to imagine what Santana could've possibly written, and her divided focus paid off in Finn's first win of the video gaming night.

"Ha!" He said, leaning toward her in his triumph as she stuck out her lower lip. "Take that!"

Everyone else was engaged in a variety of activity behind them (mostly uniting to choose a karaoke game that would replace the horribly one-sided Halo game going on), so Rachel scooted a little closer to Finn, her arm bumping against him even as she shivered a little.

"What did Santana send?" She asked.

"Rach," he said shortly, rolling his head over to see her face. "One of the big secrets to our friendship is that I don't know all the dirty stuff you and Puck like."

"Who says it's dirty?" She protested lightly.

He rolled his eyes. "Let me break this down for you. You and Puck have been getting down together for a year and a half. You're the first girl he hasn't showed a single sign of boredom around which makes me think he's not bored. Do you see where I'm going with this?" He muttered as he picked her phone up from where it had fallen in his lap. He knew the look she was giving him and he knew he would look whether he really wanted to or not—plus she was probably already too drunk to read it.

He turned her phone sideways and hit the button to turn it on. His phone was very similar so it wasn't hard for him to get to her sent text messages. He tapped his finger on the screen to pull it up, big enough they could both see it.

My tongue fucks your ear and my voice whispers how bad I want you...if you were here my hands would be all over you until the whisper was a scream. Where are you?

"Oh my God!" They said at the same time, Finn flinging her phone out of his grasp in something almost like horror. Santana laughed from behind them.

"All right," Mercedes announced. "We have a winner!" She held up a game case triumphantly from the cabinet in the opposite corner of the room. She moved quickly to the actual game console near the television, knowing she only had a short window to pry Rachel away from Halo. Once the extremely competitive brunette found something she was good at, she didn't want to do much else. They all knew karaoke was one of the few ways to distract her.

As Mercedes expertly queued up the song Brittany had requested, Beyonce's "Crazy in Love", Rachel's phone emitted a wail that was not quite normal for the ringtone.

She looked over at Finn. "I think you broke my phone."

"Yeah, well, I think your phone broke my eyes so we'll call it even," he grumbled, his eyes leaving her to watch with amusement as Brittany sat in Artie's lap, by now an expert at grinding against him in his wheelchair, as all the girls were bouncing around, singing rhythmic "oh"s and "I wanna's" in time with the music.

Rachel couldn't help it. Her shoulders starting moving. She looked at Finn with a smile. He'd been drinking, not quite as much as she was, but she knew he wasn't totally sober. So why he was still so…unfun…was beyond her. She climbed into his lap and grabbed his shoulders, moving them back and forth as she sang and smiled.

I look and stare so deep into your eyes, I touch on you more every time…

He rolled his eyes, his posture loosening up and he finally smiled as she continued to look at him like she just wanted him to have fun. Truthfully, the way the whole group had paired off was even more awkward when they started picking songs like this in social settings. And maybe the text had gotten to him a little more than he wanted to admit. It wasn't necessarily totally about Rachel, but when he was buzzed and she was being cute, it was hard not to regret everything that had happened.

Eventually, she coaxed him out of his seat so he would join the bouncing around the room, even squinting at the screen to see some of the rapper's words to the song and muttering them in time with Artie. By the end of the song, Rachel was bouncing with Quinn (who knew either of them could actually bounce?), Brittany wasn't wearing her shirt as she and Artie kissed furiously with broken up "Good job" and "You're so hot" compliments freely flowing. Blaine and Kurt had arrived while everyone was bouncing around the room and had tossed off coats to join. Nearly immediately, Santana and Mike moved over the Rachel's dads' bar in the corner to get everyone drinks.

Kurt moved to the game, already knowing his favorite song to watch everyone sing when they were trashed. "Careless Whisper" was kind of like the perfect song for them to cheese it up to, and it would allow Blaine (who was not the designated driver and responsible party tonight) to catch up to the rest of the group in terms of intoxication. Once the saxophone started, he was both amused and unsurprised when Rachel sought him out and began an exaggerated slow dance. She was smiling brightly as she kissed his cheek.

"Hi," she said warmly. "Thanks for coming!"

"Thanks for making it to eighteen in one piece," he said with a smile. She was already pressed tightly against him and rocking back and forth, her rhythm still matching up to the slow pop song. His eyes scanned the room. "Where on earth is your boyfriend? He's the one you should be hanging from like a hood ornament."

She laughed and then looked into her nearly empty cup with a frown, taking a small pull from the cup before she looked back up to Kurt, his smooth skin and blue eyes so close his features were blurring together. "Hanukkah stuff with his mom. It's the third night and she insisted he do the family thing."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Why are your dads gone for your birthday?"

She shrugged. "It was the first year in five that my dad could go be with his parents and siblings. He said he wanted to be with people who weren't so ambivalent about the holiday and there was just no way for me to miss school and join them this time." Although she proclaimed her Jewish-ness openly, she wasn't particularly devout and it was a frequent source of mild contention amongst her and her one Jewish dad, but it also wasn't that big of a deal. Hanukkah and Rosh Hashanah were really the only times he would make even passive comments about it.

Kurt just rested his cheek on top of her head and began singing in time with the song.

To the heart and mind, ignorance is kind. There's no comfort in the truth—pain is all you'll find.

He knew it bothered her a little, but she was too happy of a drunk to admit it. And it was her birthday so there was really no sense in pressing the issue.

Blaine came over with a water for Kurt and his own drink and they began a sort of three-way dance. Blaine and Rachel weren't particularly close friends, but they did seem to enjoy each other's company and he pressed a kiss to her flushed cheek to wish her a happy 18th.

As the words faded out, Quinn muttered something about a buzz-kill and picked up one of the X-box controllers to queue up another song. They all recognized "What I Like About You" with its bouncy, raucous beginning and started moving around again, Rachel breaking away from the boys so she could dance on her own, the other girls bouncing up and down and gravitating to her spot up in front of the room near the television even though they didn't need to see the display to know the words. This was just another gathering for them and they had done exactly this many times before.

Rachel was surprisingly good with fast words, even as she drank more so she kind of ended up taking lead on the song even though the tune wasn't extremely melodic. Mike was attempting (for at least the hundredth time in his life) to teach Finn a little bit about break-dancing, and the whole group was joining in for "Hey's" and "Aahs" as Rachel hopped nimbly between them all.

No one registered the footsteps on the stairs until Puck was standing in the arched entryway to the downstairs recreational area, finally catching Rachel bouncing around, the pink straw flopping in her cup as her mouth moved. He folded his arms against his chest and smirked right about the time she saw him and her whole face lit up. She moved over to him in time with the song, tugging on the tie his mom made him wear for Hanukkah. When he got her text, there was no fucking way he was going to waste his time changing clothes before he came over. Now he kind of wished he hadn't given her a leash as she pulled him into the room by it, rocking her shoulders back and forth as she belted out the words to the song. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright, and he knew she was already quite likely to regret this in the morning.

What I like about you, you keep me warm at night… never wanna let you go, no you make me feel alright. Keep on whispering in my ear, you tell me all the things that I wanna hear 'cause it's true…that's what I like about you!

She let her commanding of the lyrics drop off as she pressed herself against him. He settled his hands on her waist as she threw her arms around his neck.

"Hi," she said warmly, her breath tickling his ear.

"Hi, yourself," he said simply, letting his hands wander down over the plaid woolen skirt she wore to goose her firmly. "Not that it's a party without the Puckasaurus, but sorry I'm late."

"You should be. You need to make it up to me. Now."

When he had first seen the text message, he was pretty sure it was Santana that had sent it. Rachel tended to send dirty song lyrics or something which was sometimes pretty fucking entertaining in its own right, but the earlier message had been way more straight-up. Now he wasn't so sure.

He looked around the room, his eyes giving a careful sweep as Mercedes and Kurt were scrolling through the menu to pick the next song and everyone else was deep in conversation. Rachel was really the only one who had seen him come in. They might get away with it.

Rachel leaned forward even more and cupped his crotch through the thin fabric of the stupid black dress pants he was wearing as she looked over her shoulder. Brittany had stepped over to where Mercedes and Kurt were and everyone knew her selection would be the lone Britney Spears song on this particular game.

"Fuck, woman," Puck groaned even as she pressed the heel of her hand against his growing erection. She used the leverage she had there to push him backwards and out the room before anyone noticed. He knew this hallway, the small guest bathroom off to one side and then the bedroom at the end both familiar territory to him. He had slept there more than once. He was a little thrown off-balance when she led him into the bathroom rather than the bedroom.

"I missed you, Noah," she said, leveling a devastatingly sexy brown-eyed gaze at him. "There's only one thing I want for my birthday."

He raised his eyebrows and looked behind him at the tiled counter. "To make me scream like a girl? Because that tile is fucking cold and you know it's your turn to be on top."

She didn't smile, didn't move her eyes at all as she unbuckled his belt and expertly dropped his pants. "Oh, I'll make you scream," she said, rising up to press a kiss to his lips. He was too stunned to even close his eyes as he heard, more than felt, his pants hit the ground around his ankles. "Brittany turned the music up loud enough they won't even hear you. And all I want for my birthday is to hear you."

His eyes rolled closed as she sank down to her knees. Fuck—it was her birthday. He had a whole shitload of supplies upstairs to make her bedroom all romantic (oh yeah, he had totally sought out Quinn and Sam's help with that shit because he kind of drew the line at saying how felt, let alone spelling it out with candlelight) and she just wanted to give him head in the bathroom? On one hand, he felt like the night had gone terribly wrong. On the other hand, he wasn't going to complain.

As her tongue swept over his belly button, he dropped his head back. For all of her hesitation and needing constant reassurance that she was doing it right in the beginning, she had been good at this from the word go. When she told him she liked doing it, who was he to stop her? Seriously. She was the best girlfriend ever in that regard. He'd even managed to avoid bragging about her deep throat after she promised he would stop benefitting when others found out.

And as she slid her mouth all the way down his length, allowing her teeth to ever so lightly scrape against the engorged flesh, finally stopping only when the hot, silky back of her throat was tapping at the tip of his penis and making it feel like it might explode way before he wanted her to stop what she was doing. At the same time, it felt so good, her hand coming up to massage his balls with a thumb between them adding a whole other element of pressure to everything. He couldn't help it, his abdominal muscles tensed up as she settled into a regular rhythm, his fingers dipping down into her soft hair as his hips thrust against her mouth, her lips hitting his skin with just the right amount of pressure. Her hands dropped to grab the back of his knees and she hummed lightly with the pulsing rhythm of the song, "Toxic", that Brittany had selected in the other room. They could hear everyone singing along, undoubtedly being led in a complex choreography that Brittany could even rock when she was drunk.

He was kind of being rocked himself and he couldn't really fucking focus on all the outside noise. He was grateful for it as the humming she was doing, her mouth now down on the tight skin just below his erection and her fingers wandering at the area just behind his balls.

"Fuck, Rachel. I love your tongue," he groaned. The music was loud and there was no way he could restrain himself when her tongue was dancing around him like a stripper on a pole.

She pulled away enough to just drop a soft kiss on his length. "And I love you," she said simply before she slid her mouth all the way over him again. He looked down, never more turned on in his life than when he could see her lips pressed to his skin and knowing she was one of only a couple of girls who had ever taken him all the way in like this. And somehow, she'd managed to take him in even further. He was pretty sure she had ruined head for him unless she was the one performing it.

He couldn't control the insistent thrust of his hips. His fingers sank into her hair again and tugged tight.

"Mmm… harder…" she said around him; like hell if he wasn't going to answer her demand. His next thrust was harder, less careful and she just grabbed the back of his knee with the her free hand even harder, letting her fingers press into the flesh. The coolness of her hand, how wet her mouth was, it all piled on him quickly and gathered in his balls.

"I'm gonna…I'm gonna…" he started, panting and unable to get the whole sentence out.

"Fuck, Rachel. Oh, fuck your mouth…" he yelled out, dropping his head back as he came violently into her waiting mouth. She slowed down her movements gradually, finally pulling his pants from the ground as she stood up. She placed a long, thorough kiss to his lips.

His hands roamed her body hungrily. Her shirt was still tucked into her skirt tightly and he tugged at it, but she reached down while they were kissing and stilled his hands.

"No way, sweet cheeks. Your turn," he said, easily and quickly flipping her around before she had his belt done all the way up. He had every intention of hoisting her on the counter and letting his tongue have its way with her (what kind of fantastic payback was that? The best kind,) but she shook her head.

"Later," she promised. She kissed him again. Her eyes were only half-open and she was slumping a little bit against him. To be honest, he might not have even noticed a couple of years ago but now he knew her well enough to know that it meant two things. First, she was reaching that point of drunk where he needed to find a way to persuade her to either slow down or stop drinking or the night was going seriously south. Second, she would be stuck like glue to him for the rest of the night. Not that he minded, it just usually meant he had a barely-controlled hard-on until everyone left gatherings like this. He would have to plant himself on the couch and try to avoid a situation where he might need to walk.

Noah took a rare serious moment and kissed her passionately, pressing his tongue into her mouth and raising his hands up to cup her jaw in his hand as he poured everything into the kiss—all his wishes for a truly happy birthday for the crazy and amazing girl who was quite likely the love of his life. When he pulled away, she nestled easily into his hand. "Later I'm gonna love you 'til you pass out," he promised.

The door crashed open and interrupted their moment. It was Mike, his eyes averted and hand reaching out with Rachel's phone. "We're all glad Rachel has a nice mouth and all, but her dads are calling her."

Puck chuckled and reached out to take the phone from her hand as Rachel blushed a little and pressed her face into his chest. It didn't occur to him to be embarrassed that they heard him.

"Thanks, man," he said simply. He dropped a kiss to Rachel's forehead.

"Stay here where it's quiet, call your dad back, and I'll be waiting." He said, setting the phone on the counter. "Also, I'm cutting you off." She pulled her head back from his body and opened her mouth in a half-hearted attempt to protest, but he put a finger on her lips. "I have plans, all right? You aren't going to pass out until I make you." He kissed her forehead again before he pinched her ass and released her, leaving her in the bathroom to figure out how to make a phone call from her half-working phone.

Puck was still doing up his belt as he walked back into the living room, his head bent to see what he was doing rather than where he was walking. Quinn was standing the closest and gave him an icy little smirk. "You know, it was bad enough we could hear all your sex noises. The least you could do is be fully dressed before you come back out here."

"The least you can do is bite me, princess," he intoned easily.

"Sounds like Rachel had that covered," Sam offered smoothly as he approached with two bottles of beer in his hand. He reached one out toward Puck. Puck accepted it with a nod.

"Yes she does," Puck said with a nod and a laugh. Quinn's face crumpled in disgust but instead of issuing a comeback she took a drink from her plastic cup. Puck took a decent pull from his beer and saw Tina rooting through the game cabinet looking for something. She came up with a checker board, but didn't grab any game pieces.

Puck pointed and asked Sam. "What's up with that?"

"Oh," Sam said. "Someone suggested Spin the Bottle."

Quinn shook her head. "I maintain we're too paired up for that to be a good idea. Punches are going to fly," she tilted her head toward Puck for emphasis. "Especially if Rachel and Finn end up kissing, I predict major trouble."

Puck felt the color drain from his face just a little bit at even the thought. He and Rachel had fought plenty about things like hand placement and appropriate limits while singing and dancing love songs. It was a constant battle for him because she was "professional" and Finn was simply the opposing male lead. Puck could normally read people like a book (totally not an actual book, but…) but when he looked at Rachel and feelings were mixed in, something else happened. He usually couldn't be totally rational when it came to her. And when his line of thinking meant Quinn was right about something, it usually meant it was time for another drink. "Do we have any Jack?"

Sam nodded and pointed over to the bar. Puck wasted no time double fisting his way through a Jack on the slightly-melted-rocks and the rest of his beer, followed quickly by a Jack repeat and a fresh beer. He looked over the contents of the small counter on the bar and realized he was going to have his work cut out for him next week when he had to replace all this stuff before her dads got home. He wondered it Brittany would be able to help him again. One look at her, laughing at something with Artie, and he knew he'd have to wait a couple days to ask.

Rachel stumbled into the room as everyone was gathering in a big circle behind the couch. "Hey!" Her face lit up. "Spin the bottle!" Puck's stomach sank a little bit. There was no way he'd had enough to drink if she was that excited about this. He'd thought for sure she was still enough of a prude—well…with everyone but him—to put a stop to the lame game.

Instead, she sat down in the circle and motioned for him to join her. Okay, well, new plan. He slammed the rest of his beer and grabbed the last one of the six-pack that was out.

He offered up the empty bottle he'd just finished and since Tina was the one who suggested the game, she went first. They had quickly decided that the obligation was in place regardless of gender, so when Tina landed on Mercedes, it was quick and involved a lot of laughter. Mike sat next to Tina and landed on Tina. Their kiss was a little less innocent, but they pulled it together at the end.

Next to Mike was Brittany, and when she landed on Sam, Quinn's jaw set. Maybe Quinn hadn't been talking about him when she talked about punches being thrown. After taking just a beat too long, Brittany and Sam pulled away and exchanged a smile. "That was hot," Brittany uttered. "Quinn is lucky."

At the mention of her own name, Quinn seemed to chill a little bit and settled for a dainty little sip from her drink. It was Rachel's turn and as she leaned forward to flip the bottle on the checkerboard, Santana said (loudly enough for everyone to hear even though Finn was sitting next to her) "Stop praying so loud, Finn." Finn responded by flipping her off.

Noah held his breath as the bottle slowed. It was opposite Finn in the circle, so that was a start. It looked like it was going to stop on Kurt and before he could get a comment about how bad that sucked for her out, the bottle seemed to catch just a little bit more momentum and it dragged to a stop pointing at Blaine. Kurt shot Blaine a wide-eyed glance. Blaine just laughed and put his hands up in the air and Rachel's smile spread slowly across her face.

Yeah, Noah wasn't sure what to make of the Dalton dude. Sure, it was one of the few times he had been out of uniform and he was dressed kind of like a fag, but he was usually more of a dude than Kurt could be. Blaine liked football and they had talked and had a beer or two more than once. He ultimately decided that Blaine probably wasn't gay enough for Noah to be okay with his girlfriend kissing the guy.

But by the time he came to that conclusion, Rachel was leaning over Kurt's lap and Blaine had met her in the middle. He couldn't see her face at all. Her hair had slid down over her shoulders and she was propped up on her own knuckles. All he noticed was when the timeframe had exceeded the three seconds he was willing to allow, but about that time, one of her hands came up off the ground and she pressed it against Blaine's face even as the group started catcalling or, depending on the person, voicing their complaints (mostly that was Kurt).

He watched when they pulled back and Blaine smiled broadly at her. "Your face tastes good," Blaine said and Puck's jaw set. What in the name of fuck? He felt strangely numb to the scene before him which he thought would be alternative to punching someone at Rachel's party. As she settled back next to him, her smile was still a little too wide and she was still looking at Blaine. He raised his eyebrows and watched her right about the time he realized everyone was looking at him.

He needed to take her upstairs for a good reassurance fuck, a reminder that she loved him, but he couldn't make himself move as he watched her, the numbness fading away as anger crept in. What he just witnessed was not cool with him. Not in the least.

But it was his turn to spin, so he did so with a heavy sigh. When the bottle landed on Quinn, he tossed a glance over his shoulder to Rachel before he moved forward. Her eyes were wide and it looked like maybe she wasn't so sure this had been smart.

Well, he would really fucking drive that point home. Quinn leaned forward across the circle to meet him over the checkerboard and she smirked at him. If anyone here knew anything about revenge, it was her. That was quite often the name of her game. And they were familiar enough with one another that they could really get it if they wanted to.

So they did. If ever anyone needed Puck's lips to loosen them up, it was Quinn. The first thing he noticed as his mouth moved over hers was how different it was to kiss someone besides Rachel after all this time. Quinn tended to keep her mouth closed more, where Rachel's lips would swell and move. Her lip gloss seemed endless, tasted clean like mint, and she used her tongue and teeth in little teases.

Quinn, on the other hand, was more reserved at first and wore some sort of sugary lip gloss that made him want to gag a little bit as he tasted it. He reached up and tugged on the end of her hair; after years of wearing her hair in cheerleading ponytails, messing her hair up had become a huge turn on for her and he remembered that somewhere in a now faraway memory. He could also sense Rachel tensing behind him, because he knew she had seen that and he also knew his fingers tugging on her hair was her favorite thing.

As soon as he tugged on Quinn's free hair, her mouth opened a little more and her tongue darted into his mouth.

Rachel looked over at Sam. Rachel was sitting wide-eyed and watching the foreign image in front of her played out through a cloudy gaze. Sam was not as inhibited as Rachel and he finally tugged on the bottom of Quinn's shirt.

"Okay enough," he said in a low voice. Quinn pulled back and her eyes refocused. It was like it took her a second to remember what school year it actually was. She sat back down next to Sam, looking over at him and mouthing her apology.

Puck sat back down next to Rachel and looked at her with a smirk. She set her jaw and shook her head before she turned and fled up the stairs.

Finn was staring, like maybe he was debating whether he should go after Rachel or try to strangle Puck first, and everyone was looking with some reaction that could be classified between shock or fear that he was going to go all fight club on Blaine.

Noah decided going after Rachel was probably the best way to work out his anger since it was her fault. Without a word to anyone, he started moving to the stairs, not even fully standing up until he reached the bottom one and then hauling his ass up them two at a time with skill that surprised him considering the major drinkage had slammed into him in a wave of dizziness as he moved.

He heard her bedroom door slam shut right about the time he got to the top of the stairs he was on, so he hooked around the banister and continued up the next flight of stairs easily, fueled by temper.

He didn't knock on the door, just went into the room and closed the door behind him with a heavy slam. Rachel had flung herself into the middle of her bed and pressed her face into the covers. Her shoulders weren't shaking and she wasn't sobbing or anything.

He waited a minute with his arms folded across his chest tightly as he watched her breathe. When she didn't move, he reminded her he was standing there. "Rachel…"

"Go away!" She said forcefully, her words still muffled into the pillow.

"No."

"I said leave!" She sat up and threw the pillow at him. It missed and hit the wall about two feet to his left.

He pressed his lips together. "So you're into Blaine now? Whatever," he said. He rolled his eyes. "I guess you can fucking call me if that shit doesn't work out." He pulled on the doorknob and yanked the door open before he finished his thought. "Which it won't since he's a fag, but whatever Rachel. It was nice knowing you."

"At least I'm not still harboring feelings for my ex!" She seethed.

"Oh that's a line of bullshit and we both fucking know it," he growled, turning around to face her. "And me and Quinn… well, we weren't really ever together. It was all just…" he shook his head.

"It was 'all just' you had a baby and considered playing house together. That's inordinately better than the fact that I might have continuing feelings for an ex who I turned down so I could be with you. Whatever, Puck."

It was the one of the first times he could remember, and certainly not for a long time, when she had referred to him by his nickname. It was almost like Puck and Noah were too different guys; Puck didn't give a shit what everyone else thought other than they damn well better think he was a badass and he could kick the shit out of them for nothing other than his pleasure. Noah was the guy who sang "Brown-Eyed Girl" in class for his girlfriend and planned surprise, candlelit birthday hookups where he painted her body with strawberry juice. And strawberries weren't easy to find in December.

Well, if she wanted to call him Puck, he could be that for her. Her words flipped the switch.

"Do you really think he'd be okay with knowing my dick was in your mouth before his tongue?" He asked, his voice rising as he stopped trying to control it for her sake.

"It wasn't exactly a secret and maybe he kind of liked it. It actually fits into his area of interest, don'tcha think?" She replied sharply.

"Whatever, you just think you're hot enough to turn a guy straight."

She shook her head and folded her arms. "Well, I'm hot enough you haven't looked anywhere else," she said confidently as Finn's earlier words came back to her.

"That you know of," he said. And as the words left his mouth, he heard her breath catch. His heart thumped painfully and somehow squeezed all the air out of his lungs as his mouth hung open and he watched her. He knew he'd gone too far.

She opened her mouth to try speaking, but clamped it back shut again. She tried again and failed for the second time. There were tears in her eyes. It looked like she was refusing to blink so they wouldn't spill over in front of him.

They had been in a state of suspended animation, but then Kurt was there with Finn right behind him, all pressing in right behind where Puck stood in the open door, still watching Rachel while she watched him.

Noah turned and ran right into Kurt.

"We can hear you guys clear downstairs," Kurt said. Puck's jaw was set and he tried to sidestep Kurt but Finn was there, blocking almost the hallway with one sideways stride.

"Give me your keys, man."

"I don't think so," Puck growled. "I'm fine."

"The hell you are," Finn said. "Give me your keys."

Puck tried to sidestep him, as Kurt had already moved into the bedroom to see if Rachel was any less stoic, but Finn matched his movement.

"I'm not asking. Give me your damn keys." Finn said, the words hard and steel in his eyes. Finn was a lot of things, but once he made up his mind he was actually pretty stubborn. Puck pulled the key ring out of his pocket and slapped it into Finn's open palm.

"Can I leave now, Master?" He sneered, getting right up in Finn's face. Finn just swung out to the side and watched him go.

Kurt came out of the room and tugged the door closed behind him.

"What happened?" Finn asked, his voice dropping to a whisper as he looked over Kurt's shoulder. He half hoped for a glimpse of Rachel and half didn't want to see.

"I don't know. She just told me to leave her alone."

Finn's head jerked to the side as he heard the front door close.

"She wasn't crying," Kurt said. "I think she was waiting for me to leave."

Finn blew out a long breath and leaned against the wall. He had told Puck once, a long time ago, that he was waiting for the mohawked former friend to drop the ball so he could take his chance with Rachel. It took Puck actually dropping the ball for Finn to realize it wasn't what he had actually wanted.

"I'd better get back downstairs," Kurt said. "God only knows what they're doing without at least one sober person down there."

Finn just nodded and looked again at Rachel's door. Kurt nodded too and then left. Finn slid down the wall, just opposite her closed bedroom door, trying to pretend he didn't hear her crying and trying to pretend none of this had happened. It wasn't her birthday. They weren't here right now. And for as many times in the last two years as he wished he could change places with Puck, right now wasn't one of them. He wished there were anything he could do to get it back to how it should be, how it was before his best friends were both heartbroken and alone. So he waited. He would sit there until he could fix it.

What? He would. He totally would. He just hoped he actually could.