Part 2
They're all stuffed after seconds and thirds, having gotten up a few times in between talking at sitting on the open floor space of the apartment. They still make room for pie, however, because it is Thanksgiving and you always have to make some room for dessert.
Oddly enough as they sit back down Rachel swaps seats with Puck and sits next to Brody, leaving Quinn the open space next to Puck.
"So how's Los Angeles?" Rachel asks, grabbing the can of whipped cream and placing some on her slice. "I heard you went back to McKinley. You met your brother."
Quinn's eyebrow rises in response. "You have a brother?"
Puck glances over at Kurt whose eyes are anywhere but up. "I have my ways."
"Yes," he answers with a grumble. "I have a brother. Don't know how many more I could possibly have, but yeah, I do." He shrugs in response. "And LA's cool, I guess."
Lies. Los Angeles is only good for cleaning pools and fucking chicks. He's checked his list, too, and he's only been doing blondes now, too. He's not sure if it's a way to get over Quinn or keep her fresh in his mind.
"What about you, Quinn?" Kurt asks. "Yale must be an adventure, compared to Lima."
She shrugs in response, taking a sip of her drink. "It still feels like it's missing something."
He can't help but glance over at her then, watching as she quickly takes a bite of her slice before changing the topic. They're speaking about anything and everything, so long as it doesn't touch upon Los Angeles or Yale or Puck or Quinn specifically.
Once they're done, they shove the paper plates and paper cups in the garbage, glad they decided to go the easy route this year.
"Let's take a walk!" Rachel offers, grabbing Brody's arm and leading him out the door almost immediately.
The group's following behind until they reach outside. Then their distance between each other seems to grow bigger. Kurt's trailing behind them all, talking away on the phone to a new friend he's made thanks to his job. Rachel and Brody, holding hands, walk ahead of them, whispering things to one another and laughing every now and then.
"So…" Puck begins, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks next to Quinn. "Haven't really spoken to you since the summer."
"Yeah," Quinn nods, wrapping her jacket around her just a bit tighter as the walk. "You haven't really messaged. Or called."
"I didn't know you wanted me to," he responds quietly.
"I did," she quickly answers.
He nods this time around, continuing their pace down the quiet street. "So how's Yale?"
"Fine," she replies. It's short. He's not getting much more out of her. "Los Angeles?"
"Fine," he retorts, just the same. He opens his mouth to say something but quickly closes it after.
"What?" she inquires, having noticed the motion.
He shakes his head. "I don't want to know the answer. So I'm not gonna ask it."
She links her arm through his and walks closer. If he asks, she'll just say it's the weather.
"No," she answers.
"I didn't even ask you," he mumbles.
"You wanted to," she says. "The answer's no. I don't have a boyfriend. I meant what I said that night."
He shakes his head because he realizes that he's fucked up now. As if he hadn't done that before, he's done it even worse now.
They head back to the apartment a short while after. Rachel's invited Brody to stay the night, and while Kurt's offered up half of his bed, Quinn decides to take it instead. Puck planned on sleeping on the pull out anyway, so he's not one to protest about their sleeping arrangements.
They're all in bed by midnight, planning on spending the day tomorrow walking around Times Square and hitting a show on Broadway. Not even an hour passes before he feels a weight on the mattress and a body pressing up against his.
"How many?" she asks in a whisper. She rests her head on his chest as he wraps his arms around her, adjusting the comforter around them.
He shakes his head. "You don't want to know."
"Why?"
"They reminded me of you." He turns to look at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I thought you didn't want me. After everything…"
"I only want you."
Her lips are on his once the words leave her mouth. His hand's fumbling for the comforter, throwing it over them as she pulls him on top of her.
Hopefully no one hears them, or else they won't be the only two not getting sleep tonight.
Feedback and reviews are greatly appreciated! Thank you to all those who took the time to leave something for part one!