Bright Particular Star IV
Bright Particular Star
*****
Title: Bright Particular Star
Chapter: 4/10
Rating: R
Characters: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: ~2600
Summary: When he really needs someone, it's his truest instinct to go to her...
"So are you ready, Noah?" she asks, finishing her last sip of tea and carefully stowing the last of her study materials back in her bag.
"For what?" he asks, sounding half amused and half wary.
She smiles up at him. "Let's just get on the subway and see where it takes us. New York is beautiful at night."
It brings them to Times Square where they wander around for a while, enjoying the display of lights, and she laughs when he details how everything around them was completely destroyed either by a giant wave or alien robots or possibly both in some movie. And then naturally she has to drag him past several of the theatres, providing him with a synopsis of the plot, pacing and vocal direction of all the shows.
Next, they go to Rockefeller Plaza to check out the giant Christmas tree, even though he teases her about being a bad Jew. She eyes him consideringly when they skirt the skating rink and he grins and says, "Not a chance. Not unless you want to give me a big stick and let me hit people."
She pauses and her stomach swoops unpleasantly because she barely catches herself before she says 'maybe next time'. That would presume that there's going to be another time. Instead she offers, "Unfortunately, I left my hockey skates at home," and he snorts.
They're both hungry so she brings him to one of her favorite places, a tiny Greek restaurant squeezed in between two buildings. She loves their stuffed grape leaves and she knows he'll be in favor of any place that serves meat on a stick. They sit at a back table and as their waiter appears to be studying for exams in between refilling their waters, he seems content to leave them alone and she finally gets him talking about himself. Not about home, or whatever is going on with his father--he doesn't go there, and she doesn't push. Instead he talks about school and she absolutely thrilled (though not at all surprised) to hear that he's doing well.
What does surprise her is the curriculum he's following, mostly business courses, although she can't say exactly what she expected. Music maybe, but he laughs when she discloses that and tells her that she's got a one-track mind. (He could be right but she still thinks he's talented enough.)
He grins at her. "After two fucking years of Sheets 'n Things, I figured out that if I'm going to be working for a prick, it might as well be me."
She smiles back, but he definitely has a point. He's not the type to suffer fools gladly.
"So, uh, I've kept up with that construction company in Michigan and the guy who owns it, he kinda got to like me and he's let me run a few projects. What he does, he's not an expert in everything, but he's the one who holds it all together and I figure I could do something like that so I'm learning about business plans, and enough accounting to put in bids and do payroll taxes. Start small obviously, repairs, rehab jobs, shit like that, but you know."
He's hesitant as he shares this last part and she wonders who else he's told, if he has anyone else to talk about this with. She's guessing not. If he had anyone else, he probably wouldn't be here.
"I can see you making a success of that, Noah."
"Yeah?"
"Definitely. Will you move to Michigan after graduation?"
He shrugs. "Dunno. People build shit all over. Could go anywhere."
She nods thoughtfully before turning in her seat, rousing the waiter from his studies and signalling for the check.
Walking back to the subway she doesn't take his arm in hers. She thinks about it, as he pushes out the door of the restaurant and angles his body towards hers, a jerk of his chin indicating that she should go through. Yesterday she would have without even thinking about it, she certainly had hugged him readily enough. But now, it's a day later and it's still popping into her head at odd times, the actual sensation of his body pressed against hers, even for that brief moment.
Something's shifting between the two of them and it's unsettling.
He looks down at her as they start walking and digs his hands into his pockets. Her shoulder brushes his arm while they wait at the intersection.
It might just be her. She's not going to try to reduce this all to her own sexual urges, but, truth be told, it's been a while since she was with someone.
Following the disaster that was her break-up with Finn she went out occasionally freshman year. Maybe it's college, or maybe it's New York, or maybe it's her more relaxed outlook on life, but she found herself enjoying the sensation of dating casually for the first time ever. She'd been with Finn for more than two years and while things with Jesse had been brief, it had been anything but relaxed. Noah, she chooses not to categorize at all.
Her second year of college, she had two boyfriends, one short-lived, the other somewhat serious. So clearly, she's expanded her sexual horizons beyond Finn. (Boyfriend #1's staying power had been a particularly nice surprise and probably extended their relationship by a month or so.) Since then, although she's had offers, she hasn't met anyone she really responds to.
A crowd of people stream with them out of the subway, almost separating them, and he drops a step behind, ghosting his hand along the small of her back. She shouldn't be able to feel it through her coat.
So, again, it's been a while, but not so long that she doesn't recognize the occasional hitch in her breathing or the curling ache in her stomach and lower when he's around.
Obviously, she needs to redefine her boundaries because it's becoming way too easy for her to think of him (fantasize, really) in ways that she's sure are not appropriate. Like that gorgeous mouth teasing a wet trail down her body, strong hands gripping her hips, then tracing lines along her thighs and god...it's all becoming very distracting.
And if that was all it was, she'd be tempted, very tempted, to ask if he had any interest in exploring some of those ideas with her. After all, what could it hurt? It's not as if there's any question that he would be magnificent. She's heard too many testimonials to his prowess to doubt that. (Mostly from Santana, and while her ethics might be in doubt, her taste is not.) And now that she has some idea of what she was missing in high school, she's even more intrigued. Plus, he'll be gone before the embarrassment factor has a chance to kick in.
But the thing that complicates this little non-plan is the fact that she likes Noah. She always has, or at least she has since the slushies ceased. Determinedly not in any romantic sense. That would be foolish given his feelings for her which over the years of their acquaintance seemed to have morphed largely into friendly indifference. (If one ignores those heated--and confusing--glances on graduation night, which she usually manages to do.) She likes his sense of humor, his straightforwardness, and the way he tries to protect the people he cares for. She admires his talent and the drive and ambition that got him out of Lima. And he can be very sweet, when he lets himself be.
They talk as they walk along the sidewalk towards her dorm, the shop windows lit up for the holidays. And then everything is quieter, both the noises from the street and the two of them, as they cut through the park and she finds herself sneaking glances at him.
She releases an internal sigh and maybe she's just chickening out, but she's not going to make a move, as much as she really wants to. (Even if there's something in the way that he's sneaking glances right back at her that tells her that he might not refuse her.)
Tonight has seemed a lot more like a date (and really, really excellent one to boot) than she's comfortable with. It would be easy to get used to this, to get attached, and her brain is screaming 'not a good idea' at her.
She's can do this. She can keep it friendly. She just needs a plan. She swipes her ID to open the her door and all she comes up with is be cool Rachel. Be nice. She giggles, remembering the provenance of that particular saying and he looks down at her, raising one eyebrow questioningly.
"Nothing," she smiles. "How about we make some popcorn and watch a movie on my laptop?"
*****
She wakes up in the middle of the night to the unaccustomed weight of an arm around her shoulders and her head pillowed comfortably on someone's chest. To be more specific, Noah's lovely arms and his chiseled, insanely attractive chest.
She's relatively sure she's had dreams that started like this. Sadly, they're both fully dressed--at least as much as pajamas count as fully dressed. Wait. Hold on. Sadly? She must still be half asleep.
She blinks and spots the empty popcorn bowl and her laptop on her desk and things become clearer. Movie. She must have fallen asleep. She lifts her head carefully to look up at him, but his face is still and his breath steady and even. She's not even going to pretend that she's going to wake him up and ask him to sleep on the floor. Instead she shifts slightly, balancing on one arm and leaning over him to pull a blanket from the bottom of the bed over the two of them and then sinks into his side again.
Just before she drifts off again, she feels his arm tighten around her, but she's asleep before she can think about it.
*****
When she wakes up for the second time, possibly because of the bright sunlight pouring in through the windows, possibly because of the sound of a door opening, she notices three things.
Firstly, they've shifted sometime during the night. Now they're spooned together and he's completely curled around her. She can feel herself pressed against him from back to backside, her head cradled on one of his arms, and their legs are tangled together and he's so warm, which is just as well, because somehow the blanket has been kicked off.
Secondly, her tee shirt is pushed up. Moreover, her tee shirt is pushed up because his hand is on her breast. He's cupping her and when she jerks in surprise, he mumbles something sleepily, his face buried in her hair and then his thumb brushes once, then twice, over her nipple and she can barely prevent herself from arching into him as it hardens. And speaking of that, what exactly is that against her bottom? Oh. Oh!
Thirdly. Ah, yes. Back to the noise in the room. Her roommate is standing in the middle of the room in her bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her wet hair and a look of shock on her face and Rachel can only wait for it.
"Rachel! What in the world?" Hmm. That shriek wouldn't be out of place at the Met.
He pulls her in closer, almost protectively and she twists back in his grasp just enough to look at him (somehow, it's not enough to dislodge his hand). His eyes are just fluttering open and then she's staring directly at him for a lingering moment. She wonders stupidly why eyelashes like that are always wasted on boys until that thought is chased away by the shock of seeing a dull flush spread across his face and down his neck. His eyes flash up to her roommate and back to her and he pulls his hand away as if her skin was burning him and then snaps it back and yanks her shirt back down. Then he rolls onto his back and groans.
She'd like to do that too, but unfortunately there's her pissed off roommate to deal with.
Five minutes later the two of them are standing in the hallway discussing the matter.
"Aren't there ties on doors or something for situations like this?" Olivia hisses. "I was in the shower! Give me twenty minutes to get out of here and then you and your boyfriend can have at it all morning!"
"Olivia, we are just friends!" Given the position they were found in this morning, it sounds weak, even to her ears.
"Rachel, I have male friends. We do not share beds. They do not feel me up. Nor do they spend the better part of 24 hours looking like they want to devour me whole!"
Rachel is sputtering, struggling to find a come-back when the door opens and Noah walks out with his coat on and his backpack over one shoulder.
Olivia smiles sourly and slips back into the room.
"Where are you going?" she asks him in a small voice.
"Port Authority," he says, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. "There's a bus in a couple of hours. You've got to get going anyway. Your next exam is in what? Like an hour?"
A worried crease forms between her brows. "Less than that now. I can...would you like me to walk you to the elevator?"
He nods down at his feet. "Yeah."
He hits the down button and they're standing in awkward silence while she pulls on the hem of her shirt and he leans one shoulder against the wall
Well this is ridiculous. They are both unquestionably adults and can get through the next two minutes without embarrassment. As long as they both never ever speak of this again.
"About what happened. I'm sorry. I mean I know you're not...look, I was like 95 percent asleep."
There's that plan shot to hell.
"No. I'm sure...it's fine...just a natural reaction. An involuntary response, like when the doctor hits your knee with the hammer. I understand." She needs to stop talking because she's starting to squeak and she refuses to sound hysterical. Even if she is a little.
He closes his eyes and lets his head drop back on the wall so hard that she can hear a thunk. "Berry, you don't understand anything," he says quietly and before she has time to take offense, he takes two quick strides to her and crashes his mouth down on hers. Her arms go up automatically to curve around his neck--and it must be automatic, because there's certainly no room in her head for conscious thought, not when every bit of her is consumed with the feeling of his lips on hers. One of his hands tangles in her hair, cradling the back of her head, angling her towards him as his tongue darts along her bottom lip. The other hand slides under her shirt to the small of her back, pressing her fully against him when she opens her mouth for him. Dimly, she hears the elevator come and go, but it doesn't matter, all that matters is the burn of hands and mouths and bodies.
When he finally releases her, her breath is sharp and she has to cling to his forearms for a moment to regain her balance. He's breathing hard too, his lips on her temple, his fingers digging into her hips.
"Understand now?" he asks shortly, taking a step back from her.
No. Not really. Except it's seeming quite likely that it might not have taken all that much to seduce him last night. But he's not waiting for a response, instead grabbing his pack and moving towards the door to the stairwell.
"Noah!" she calls and his hand freezes on the door handle as he looks back towards her. "You've got my contact information now. So you can get in touch if you need anything or even just someone to talk to."
God, now she sounds desperate. He's going to laugh.
Only he doesn't, his face is serious, no trace of a smirk hovering around his mouth. "Yeah. All right. Same here."
And then he's gone.