iii.

"I heard you broke up with Finn."

Rachel looks over her shoulder and finds Puck standing behind her. "Yes, I did."

"Who woulda thought you'd be such a heartbreaker?" he laughs.

She ducks her head and smiles, unable to control the quickening of her heart.

"So… does this mean we're on for rehearsals at your house again?"

Biting her lip, she nods.

"See ya at 4:30."

"We meet at four, Noah," she reminds him, but he just laughs.

---

Puck infuriates her a little more than half the time.

He has no respect for punctuality or Broadway. His language is crass and his manners are abhorrent. He's argumentative and stubborn (and sometimes reminds her of herself a little too much).

But he can sing and he always makes her laugh.

When she manages to look past his poor grammar and his cruel exterior, she finds him rather charming.

She's not sure what makes him keep coming back, day after day, when she's certain there's about a million other things he'd rather do than practice a duet with her, but she doesn't question it, just welcomes him inside each time he shows up on her doorstep.

They practice their duet, he strums whatever song she requests on his guitar, and she helps him with the homework he starts bringing over.

Neither mention Finn until Puck opens up one of her notebooks and sees Finn's name sketched among hearts and stars.

"Still not over him?"

She quirks an eyebrow questioningly, and he tosses the notebook towards her. "That was from a long time ago," she snaps and tears the page, crumbling it into a ball.

"I don't know what girls see in him. I really don't."

"The same could be said about you," she returns with a playful smile. "I don't understand how you can speak so horribly about your own best friend."

He shrugs. "I dunno. It's just… what I do. Not like we're the best of friends right now anyway."

"Because you're having a baby with his ex-girlfriend and failed to tell him for months," she reminds him. "That's what I don't understand the most - how you can be okay with losing your best friend? "

"I'm not okay with it," he mumbles.

"Then maybe you should do something about it. You don't know how lucky you are… to have a friend," she tells him quietly, bowing her head. "I've never had a real friend before."

Puck reaches out, carefully dancing his fingertips across her shoulder and whispers, "We've already proved I'm kind of a shitty friend, but… you've got me."

---

Their duet goes off without a hitch.

Practice has made them perfect, just like Rachel promised it would.

The assignment is over, but Puck still comes to Rachel's every afternoon. They sing and do homework and watch movies and argue.

Rachel believes that this is truly what it's like to have a friend. A best friend.

---

Rachel normally doesn't see Puck on the weekends. She never thinks to ask what he does (mostly because she's scared to know the answer) but this weekend is different.

He shows up at her house on Saturday night and tells her to put her coat on before pushing her out the door and into his truck, refusing to tell her where he's taking her.

They drive to a hole-in-the-wall club, 45 minutes outside of Lima, and he proudly tells her that he's brought her to listen to his new favorite band.

She bops her head along to the music (though it's not her favorite) and sips the beers he brings to their table - not even bothering to ask him how he got them or how unconscionable underage drinking is.

Rachel allows herself to enjoy the moment. The bitter beer, the smoky club, the way the music makes her whole body vibrate, and the warmth of Puck's hand on her thigh.

When Puck drives her back home, it's well past her curfew, but the beer is happily buzzing through her veins, not allowing her to care.

"Oh, Noah, tonight was perfect," she slurs, giggling when he rolls his eyes. "Thank you for taking me."

He gets out and rounds the truck, opening the passenger door and pouring her out. "You're a cheap date, Rach," he laughs as he supports her weight easily in his arms.

She stops instantly and looks at him with wide eyes. "Was tonight a date?" she asks, trying to whisper, but it's more like shouting.

"You need to be quiet," he warns, tightening his hold on her when she begins to sway. "I don't need two dads to chew me out."

She actually listens to him and doesn't say another word, but when she bangs up the steps of the porch, he's pretty sure he's going to get his ass kicked by at least one of her dads.

"Jesus, Rachel, sssh!"

"Sorry," she tells him sheepishly, wrapping her arms around his neck and falling against him.

"God," he groans before lifting her into his arms to carry her the rest of the way. Her head falls against his shoulder, her breath warm on his neck.

"I'd tell you what an insult this is, as a feminist, but I'm too tired," she mumbles against the cotton of his t-shirt.

"Yeah, whatever." He juggles her in his arms to open the door with her keys and carries her up the stairs as quietly as he can. Over the past few weeks he's learned where all the creaks are and does his best to avoid them.

They make it safely to her room where he practically tosses her onto the bed.

"I better bounce before your dads catch me. They'd freak."

"Noah," she calls sleepily, her fingers circling her wrist, drawing him back.

"Yeah?"

She pulls herself up, using his hand for leverage, and a slow smile spreads across her lips when she's just a breath away from him.

"Noah," she breathes.

"You're drunk, Rachel."

Her hand curves around his neck and she pulls herself closer. "So?"

"This probably isn't a good idea…"

"Don't you want to kiss me?" Her bottom lip juts out.

"No. I mean, I do…"

"Then kiss me."

And so he does. It's not the stupidest thing he's ever done, but probably not the smartest. But she's here and she's Rachel - even smelling like cheap beer and cigarette smoke - and he can't resist, not even if he wanted to.

When her tongue slides between his lips, she pulls herself even closer to him.

This Rachel Berry, playful and seductive, would surprise him if he were capable of a coherent thought, but all Puck can really focus on is the slide of her tongue and the way her body's pressed so tightly against his own.

Rachel lowers herself down against the bed and takes Puck with her, craving the weight and heat of his body on top of her own.

His lips are skimming the column of her throat when she murmurs his name and it snaps him back to reality.

"We should probably, uh… stop," he says, pushing himself up.

"Look at you, Noah, being all noble," she giggles. "Who would've thought?"

"Go to sleep, Rachel. Take two aspirin in the morning for your head."

She squeezes his hand before he reluctantly leaves her bed. When he looks back at her, her eyes are closed and her chest is falling rhythmically.

Puck presses a kiss to her forehead and whispers goodnight.

She smiles and he rolls his eyes before he finds his way out.

---

It is not unusual for Rachel to go an entire day without seeing Puck at school. They share three classes, but he rarely goes and she's given up lecturing him on the importance of education.

But it's still a disappointment when she doesn't see him on Monday.

She woke up with a headache Sunday morning but with a vivid memory of the events from the night before. The smoky club, the band, Puck's smile, the taste of beer, the taste of Puck…

The aftertaste of beer made her stomach churn, but the memory of Puck's lips on hers made her crave more.

And she knows it's wrong. Knows that they don't work like that and that anything more than what they already have would threaten her only friendship.

That knowledge doesn't stop her from anticipating Puck's arrival in every class she has or holding her breath until he walks into the choir room for glee.

He doesn't sit beside her, but plops down to Mike instead, not even bothering to look in her direction.

Rachel refuses to be ignored, so she goes to him, shooting Mike a look that makes him suddenly have something to tell Mercedes.

"Noah."

"Oh, hey, Rach."

"Are you avoiding me?"

"No," he huffs defensively. Her eyes narrow and her hands slant on her hips. "Look… I just don't want you to get the wrong idea about Saturday night. We're just friends, right?"

"Right," she says tightly. "Just… friends." She forces a smile and takes a seat beside him.

"By the way," he says, "I wont be able to come over this week. I'm working on some history project with Lily Harper."

"Lily?," she squeaks. She doesn't know the other girl well, but she's seen her in the hallway before - tall, blonde, popular. She seems Puck's type: Quinn-like.

"Yeah. She was like falling over herself trying to be my partner."

"Because you're so good at history?" she asks dryly and then abruptly rises to her feet. "I don't feel very well all of a sudden. Tell Mr. Schue I had to go home."

He catches her wrist before she can flee. "We're cool, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Totally cool."

Puck lets her go and watches her walk away.