Bright Particular Star VIII
Bright Particular Star
*****
Title: Bright Particular Star
Chapter: 8/10
Rating: M
Characters: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: ~4000
Summary: When he really needs someone, it's his truest instinct to go to her...
Not surprisingly, spending the night with Noah Puckerman between your thighs is the polar opposite of restful.
More like amazing, even the morning after with a hickey on her thigh and a touch of whisker burn along her collarbone and the slight ache of muscles that until very recently may have been underutilized. He'd just made her feel so good and not solely in terms of the way he made her fall apart over and over again. (Although that? If anything, Santana's locker room evaluation was a total understatement.)
No. What she's thinking about now is the way he held her hand all the way back from the party last night, like she was something precious that might disappear if he let go. And the way they'd laughed together in the middle of the night after he raided her tiny refrigerator for 'anything fucking edible, baby--gotta keep my energy up.' And the way he'd said her name when he slowly pushed inside her for the first time. (Is she supposed to still be hearing that, the sound of his rough whisper against her skin?)
She's not exactly sure when she made the decision to have sex with him. Actually, to restate: she's not sure if she made the decision to have sex with him or whether it was all some unconscious and inevitable process at work over the last two days.
Or admittedly, quite a bit longer.
It's not like she ever sat down and thought it through, or made a list, or moved cons into the pros column. It doesn't seem like a less dangerous idea or a more tempting one simply because she woke up yesterday curled up next to him again, or because he slung an arm over her shoulder as they walked through the park, or because she felt his eyes on her from across the room at that party.
It's just that at some point she decides she doesn't care about the potential complications or consequences anymore.
Now, even though she's exhausted (all right, more like completly sated) and should be trying to rest, or at least clear her mind for the week ahead, she's caught up in a tangle of emotion. Because it's not meaningless for her either. Far from it. The problem is that she can't seem to assign an exact meaning to it, no many how much time she spends turning over in her mind. There's no neat box to place him in.
She knows it wasn't just some random hook-up. He told her it wasn't. And besides, she knew it wasn't even before that because he told her with his body; like hands and muscles and the care and delicacy he'd used has it's own language.
(And this is the state she's in after two short interactions over a six month period.)
So basically and maybe it's Noah's visit, or the result of last night's activities, or maybe she's just a little agitated, but she can't think of another way to put this: basically she's fucked.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow she'll call him and say hello. Ask about his drive. Mention the tee-shirt he left behind (he's definitely not getting it back, though). And possibly she can start to figure out if she's alone in all this.
Whatever this is.
*****
Sometimes it's like this.
"The plasterers were late, again, so we decided to start on the kitchen. And then, fuck Rach, we opened up the wall behind the cupboards and this giant ass rat comes shooting out and I swear, Jeff was about to lose his shit, and Ramon starts chasing it around with his sledgehammer and then he nearly brains Jeff with it.
"Noah, that's absolutely terrible! Also a little disgusting. Why are you even telling me this?"
"It's funny. Plus, you know, I kinda like telling you about my day."
"Oh. Well...good. So what did you say to to the plasterers when they arrived?"
Or this.
"I swear Noah, if Miranda Watson thinks she's going to get into the director's good graces by wearing blouses cut so low that we can practically see her bellybutton, she's got another thing coming!"
"Hold on Rach. How low exactly?"
"Noah!"
"No, wait. I just need a basis of comparison. Remember the dress you wore at the Regionals afterparty junior year? Like that?"
"Really Noah! And anyway, lower than that!"
"Lower, huh? So like that red bikini you used to have?"
...
"About like that, yes."
"Shit. That's...yeah. Rach, you still got that packed away somewhere?"
And not very often, but occasionally it's like this.
"So I got half way there, seriously my only fucking weekend off in six weeks, and I drive for two and a half hours just to turn around and drive back."
"What did you do then, Noah?"
"Then I told myself to stop crying like a little bitch and I turned back around and went to see them. Or him, I guess."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not much to talk about. It was...shitty. I told you he's in respite care now, right? But, we talked for a while, although it's sure as hell not like some Oprah moment. As far as I'm concerned, we didn't resolve shit. It was good to see my mom and sister though. Sounds stupid, but it's not just about me and him and our problems. It's about them too. They need me, I don't know...to be available or something."
"That doesn't sound stupid at all."
Once it's like this.
The phone call that comes in mid August is completely different from any of the others. It's really early for one thing and he knows her schedule by now, knows that she's only been in bed for a few hours after a late night at the theater, so he usually waits until his lunch break to call. She thinks maybe he's forgotten. His tone is different, it isn't amused or flirtatious or even serious, it's just detached. He delivers the news (it's not unexpected, Noah had briefly mentioned a ventilator last week). When she asks if his mother is having a funeral service, he rattles off the place and time readily enough. When she tells him she'll be there, he says 'okay' and 'I'll see you then.'
He asks her briefly about a theatre thing and she answers a little absently, making a mental list of what to pack and who to call. He's not really responding anyway, so possibly he's just finding the sound of her voice soothing (she does have an exceptionally musical tone to her voice).
After he says 'goodbye' but before he hangs up, his voice dips for a moment. "Thanks, Rach."
She's really glad he called.
*****
Rabbi Wiseman chooses to close the prayers with a lengthy discourse on the value and nature of forgiveness and she watches Noah from several rows back, sees his mouth tighten and his jaw set.
Rachel expected the funeral to be distressing, of course. She just never realized what she would find most difficult was simply watching Noah silently endure it.
*****
Everyone continues on to the Puckerman's house to pay their respects and she catches up briefly with Mike and Matt, which is nice because what from what she's observed of dozens of glee club hook ups and break ups, people pick sides during times of conflict and she had always assumed that they wouldn't be interested in talking to her any more. And it's a real pleasure to see Tina, who she's kept up with sporadically since graduation. At one point, she catches sight of Finn, which isn't unexpected, since she'd seen him slip in the synagogue with Carole just before the first reading, but the next time she looks over he's gone.
Noah is nowhere to be seen.
When she politely breaks off the conversation, she tells them she's going to find something to drink. Really, she's just anxious to see him. As she moves from room to room, she looks around with interest. She's only been here a few times, mostly at parties he threw when his mother and sister were out of town. (Finn had never wanted to stay long.) Before she goes far she's drawn in by a group of family pictures hanging on the wall, in particular by one of a young Noah holding a wrapped bundle that is presumably Sarah, his face awed. Something about the gentle curve of his smile is so familliar that almost involuntarily she reaches up a finger to trace it over the glass of the frame and then she jumps guiltily when the bundle herself, (now thirteen? fourteen?) captures her arm.
"My brother says you go to school in New York City. Tell me everything about it." Sarah says excitedly, dragging her up the stairs. "Lima sucks balls."
At the top of the landing they almost collide with Noah who barks, "Watch your mouth, shorty."
"Up yours," Sarah responds cheerfully and he laughs and yanks her hair.
"Lemme just borrow Rachel for a second," he tells his sister and then pulls her into his bedroom without waiting for a response.
He's changed out of his suit, (which she'd recognized vaguely as dating from Nationals, senior year), and what little hair he has is wet, maybe from the shower and it's horribly inappropriate given the timing, but god, he's close enough so she can smell his cologne or aftershave or whatever, and honestly, is it fair for one man to be so sinfully gorgeous in that white button down which shows off the frame of his shoulders nicely and...
"Hey," he says.
"Hello," she replies, completely losing her train of thought. "How are you? And Sarah, and your mother, of course?"
He shrugs. "Okay. We all had time to, you know..."
She nods.
"It's good to see you," he says, taking a step closer, the hand still on her elbow travelling to her hip.
"You too," she says and it's almost a sigh and apparently it's all the agreement he needs as he kisses her, and she winds her arms around his neck.
It's hot and sweet and not nearly long enough because they both hear his mother calling his name from the base of the stairs. He tightens his arms around her momentarily, pressing her close and then releases her.
"Later," he promises, his eyes dark and then as he opens the door to find his sister staring at the two of them with one eyebrow raised (Rachel can't help wondering if that's genetic). He rolls his eyes at Sarah and mouths "good luck," to her.
By the time Rachel finishes telling Sarah everything about New York City, (and maybe, possibly, sort of promising she can come for a visit, damn that persuasive Puckerman charm) the afternoon is well advanced and people are beginning to leave. Mike and Matt are actually at the door since Mike has an early flight tomorrow and Matt is his ride. They both give her a big hug and make her promise to stay in touch and she smiles back shyly and promises that she will.
She doesn't want to go, though, until she's done something concrete to help, so she goes into the kitchen and starts dealing with the mountains of food that people have brought, covering platters, making room in the refrigerator and rooting through the cupboards looking for storage containers.
"Tupperware's in the cabinet by the sink," a familiar voice says and she whirls around to find Finn. He nods at the correct cabinet and crosses to the refrigerator to get himself a soda.
"Thank you," she says awkwardly.
It's uncomfortable, because for one thing the last time he saw her, about a year ago in Walgreens, he'd completely ignored her. And for another, some of the things he'd said to her when they broke up were extremely harsh and while she knows intellectually that they were said in the heat of the moment, 'self-centered bitch' is somewhat hard to forgive. (He'd also called her narcissistic, but she's less offended by that because she's relatively sure both that A: he was just repeating something Kurt said and B: he had no idea what the word actually meant.)
So she's definitely surprised when he starts talking to her, but she's willing to let bygones be bygones and at first it's very civil. He tells her about how things at Ohio State are going, apparently he's a Physical Education major and loves it, he makes a few references to what seems to be a semi-serious girlfriend, and then shares several funny and very cute stories about the Little League team he coaches.
It's mostly nice. She's remembering all of the reasons why she always thought he was so sweet, but it's also a little disturbing because she can't remember a single reason why she spent more than two years dating him.
When the conversation turns to her, things start to get a little more tense.
"So how's New York treating you? You a big star yet?"
He's smiling and the words are friendly and in fact, Mike and Matt had teased her with similar variations, but at the same time, his tone is a little...off.
"NYU's program is challenging, but fantastic. I've been working with some great people...." She starts talking about her classes, her summer internship, but he's looking down and frowning slightly, fiddling with the tab on his Coke can and eventually she trails off.
"So you two kept in touch, huh?" he says.
She looks at him blankly and he continues, "You and Puck, I mean..."
In touch? In her head the filthy innuendo that Noah would let loose describing exactly how in touch they've been pops up and she has to clamp her lips together to prevent it from slipping out. Luckily, Finn doesn't notice and he's already continuing. "I'm a little surprised to see you here is all."
"Noah is an old high school friend. Why wouldn't I be here?" she counters. Yes, friends. Friends that have seen each other naked. And maybe there's the potential for more than that, at least in her mind, but that is absolutely none of Finn's business.
"Yeah, it's funny though. It doesn't look like too many of his other friends showed up. Artie didn't make an appearance. Tina was only around for what? About five minutes? No Mercedes or Kurt. And look," he points to the remainder of the food still loaded on the table. "I don't see Santana here bringing cookies and he fucked her."
"You did too," she flashes and an angry flush spreads across his face.
"You know why no one else is here? Because Puck is a shitty friend and if you make the mistake of hanging around him too much he's going to hurt you too!"
"That's a terrible thing to say!" she says indignantly. "Noah made one mistake years ago and..."
"Jesus, Rachel. That is such bullshit," he mutters and then he steps forward and grabs her arm. "Come on. I'll take you home."
"Finn, don't be ridiculous, I'm not going anywhere. And please let go, you're hurting me," she complains, but then his eyes flick up, over her shoulder, and if anything, he looks angrier.
She twists a little bit and Noah is standing in the kitchen doorway. His expression is ugly and his voice tight. "Let her go."
Finn's hand tightens around her wrist and she can't help letting out a squeak.
"Hudson, let her go or I swear I'm going to forget that this is my mother's house and fucking beat the crap out of you."
Rachel can feel all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prick up and possibly Finn feels it too because for whatever reason his grip loosens and she's able to jerk away from him. She takes a step back towards Noah, not touching, but close enough to, standing firmly and uncategorically between the two of them, best friends she'd always thought. Lately though, she's been finding out that she was wrong about a lot of things.
"Finn, you should leave," she says firmly and Finn looks embarrassed but mulish at the same time.
"I was leaving anyway. You should think about what I said, Rachel," he says and then jostles past Noah hard on his way out the door.
She grabs at Noah's arm as if to stop him from going for Finn, but he's cold and still under her hand, looking at her with his face some unidentifiable mixture of irritation and concern.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Of course. I'm so sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was cause a scene."
"Not your fault," he says shortly and then when she turns back to the food on the table he adds, "You can leave that. My aunt's almost done cleaning the linen closet and she'll just come down and redo it all anyway."
She'd met his aunt earlier in the afternoon, so she has to acknowledge that this is most likely true. "Well, unless there's anything else I can do to help, I guess I'll call Daddy."
"I can give you a ride home. If you want."
"All right," she says cautiously. He's still tense, but it doesn't seem at all unreasonable that he would welcome a chance to get out of the house for a few minutes.
(He smiles at her and her breath catches and suddenly that 'later,' is echoing through her brain.)
She gathers her belongings while he gets his keys and tells his mother where he's going and Rachel can hear her, "Don't hurry back!" all the way across the room, while his sister and aunt look on in interest.
Things are quiet in the car. She doesn't know what he's thinking, but she for one can't help remembering that the last time the two of them were alone together for an extended period of time, she was naked and those same hands gripping the steering wheel have explored every inch of her body, and she's got to get a handle on this before she embarrasses herself.
"What did Hudson say?"
Ugh. That's actually a fairly effective distraction.
"Nothing worth repeating," she says and then when he misses the turn. "Noah, it's left on Kirkland."
"Not like I can't guess what he said. And yeah, I remember where your place is. You up for driving around for a while?"
She agrees and sends a quick text explaining the situation to her fathers although she's purposely vague about her current location and when she expects to be back home. Mostly because she doesn't have that information herself, but also because most of what they know about Noah is the (admittedly spotty) reputation he earned in high school and she doesn't want them to worry.
She's certainly not concerned, but a possibly a little surprised when he heads out on Highway 10 towards the resevoir. He drives past the public beach, past the fishing access where high school students go to make out at night and then he turns into a little gap in the trees that she's never seen before and picks his way carefully along a dirt track that only with a little imagination can she recognize as a road. He gets out once and pushes open a rusty gate before returning to the truck and driving a few hundred yards more to a small grassy clearing. Through the treeline ahead, she can see the glint of the setting sun reflecting on the water.
"Where are we?" she asks when he throws the truck into park.
He shrugs. "No place, really. Land used to belong to some old lady and when she died all her kids started fighting over what to do with it and shit, now it's probably her grandkids arguing. There used to be a house but it burned down five or six years ago. No one ever comes here."
She waits for more, like how he knows about this place or what they're doing there, but he lets out a breath and sinks down in his seat.
"Is this where you brought girls when you were in high school?" she asks impulsively, not because she wants to know (even back then, she avoided thinking of him with other girls), but because she's nervous and it's the first thing that comes into her head.
He scowls and she thinks maybe she's touched him on a sore spot and she opens her mouth to take it back or change the subject, but then he says sharply. "No one. I've never brought anyone here. Shit Rachel, if I just wanted to fuck, there's a million other places to go. Hell, you've probably been to a few with Finn. What do you think? Maybe we should compare notes."
After that she's not really interested in making an apology and her hand darts to the passenger door which absolutely yes, she recognizes as ridiculous because they're miles out of town, but old habits die hard. But before she gets the door open his hand snakes out and grabs her arm.
She doesn't say anything, but allows herself to be pulled back, saying a little stiffly, "I think I've had enough of driving around for today. Will you take me home?"
"Rach. Look, it was kind of a shitty thing to say. And yeah, I know it's stupid and unfair but sometimes it pisses me off." He's still gripping her, only now he's rubbing his thumb along the inside of her arm, applying a gentle traction to pull her closer.
"What's unfair?" she asks, a little unwillingly. (She's still sliding over towards him though. Stupid lack of control.)
"Hudson. That he got you for two years and I got you for like, a week."
"Oh," she says in a tiny voice. She swallows. "Well, you've got me right now."
"Yeah?" he asks breathlessly.
"You know you do."
He does have her, and she has to blink against it, the revelation hitting her like a searchlight on a dark night. She's been half in love with him for months.
Now what?
*****
Title: Bright Particular Star
Chapter: 8/10
Rating: M
Characters: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: ~4000
Summary: When he really needs someone, it's his truest instinct to go to her...
Not surprisingly, spending the night with Noah Puckerman between your thighs is the polar opposite of restful.
More like amazing, even the morning after with a hickey on her thigh and a touch of whisker burn along her collarbone and the slight ache of muscles that until very recently may have been underutilized. He'd just made her feel so good and not solely in terms of the way he made her fall apart over and over again. (Although that? If anything, Santana's locker room evaluation was a total understatement.)
No. What she's thinking about now is the way he held her hand all the way back from the party last night, like she was something precious that might disappear if he let go. And the way they'd laughed together in the middle of the night after he raided her tiny refrigerator for 'anything fucking edible, baby--gotta keep my energy up.' And the way he'd said her name when he slowly pushed inside her for the first time. (Is she supposed to still be hearing that, the sound of his rough whisper against her skin?)
She's not exactly sure when she made the decision to have sex with him. Actually, to restate: she's not sure if she made the decision to have sex with him or whether it was all some unconscious and inevitable process at work over the last two days.
Or admittedly, quite a bit longer.
It's not like she ever sat down and thought it through, or made a list, or moved cons into the pros column. It doesn't seem like a less dangerous idea or a more tempting one simply because she woke up yesterday curled up next to him again, or because he slung an arm over her shoulder as they walked through the park, or because she felt his eyes on her from across the room at that party.
It's just that at some point she decides she doesn't care about the potential complications or consequences anymore.
Now, even though she's exhausted (all right, more like completly sated) and should be trying to rest, or at least clear her mind for the week ahead, she's caught up in a tangle of emotion. Because it's not meaningless for her either. Far from it. The problem is that she can't seem to assign an exact meaning to it, no many how much time she spends turning over in her mind. There's no neat box to place him in.
She knows it wasn't just some random hook-up. He told her it wasn't. And besides, she knew it wasn't even before that because he told her with his body; like hands and muscles and the care and delicacy he'd used has it's own language.
(And this is the state she's in after two short interactions over a six month period.)
So basically and maybe it's Noah's visit, or the result of last night's activities, or maybe she's just a little agitated, but she can't think of another way to put this: basically she's fucked.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow she'll call him and say hello. Ask about his drive. Mention the tee-shirt he left behind (he's definitely not getting it back, though). And possibly she can start to figure out if she's alone in all this.
Whatever this is.
*****
Sometimes it's like this.
"The plasterers were late, again, so we decided to start on the kitchen. And then, fuck Rach, we opened up the wall behind the cupboards and this giant ass rat comes shooting out and I swear, Jeff was about to lose his shit, and Ramon starts chasing it around with his sledgehammer and then he nearly brains Jeff with it.
"Noah, that's absolutely terrible! Also a little disgusting. Why are you even telling me this?"
"It's funny. Plus, you know, I kinda like telling you about my day."
"Oh. Well...good. So what did you say to to the plasterers when they arrived?"
Or this.
"I swear Noah, if Miranda Watson thinks she's going to get into the director's good graces by wearing blouses cut so low that we can practically see her bellybutton, she's got another thing coming!"
"Hold on Rach. How low exactly?"
"Noah!"
"No, wait. I just need a basis of comparison. Remember the dress you wore at the Regionals afterparty junior year? Like that?"
"Really Noah! And anyway, lower than that!"
"Lower, huh? So like that red bikini you used to have?"
...
"About like that, yes."
"Shit. That's...yeah. Rach, you still got that packed away somewhere?"
And not very often, but occasionally it's like this.
"So I got half way there, seriously my only fucking weekend off in six weeks, and I drive for two and a half hours just to turn around and drive back."
"What did you do then, Noah?"
"Then I told myself to stop crying like a little bitch and I turned back around and went to see them. Or him, I guess."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not much to talk about. It was...shitty. I told you he's in respite care now, right? But, we talked for a while, although it's sure as hell not like some Oprah moment. As far as I'm concerned, we didn't resolve shit. It was good to see my mom and sister though. Sounds stupid, but it's not just about me and him and our problems. It's about them too. They need me, I don't know...to be available or something."
"That doesn't sound stupid at all."
Once it's like this.
The phone call that comes in mid August is completely different from any of the others. It's really early for one thing and he knows her schedule by now, knows that she's only been in bed for a few hours after a late night at the theater, so he usually waits until his lunch break to call. She thinks maybe he's forgotten. His tone is different, it isn't amused or flirtatious or even serious, it's just detached. He delivers the news (it's not unexpected, Noah had briefly mentioned a ventilator last week). When she asks if his mother is having a funeral service, he rattles off the place and time readily enough. When she tells him she'll be there, he says 'okay' and 'I'll see you then.'
He asks her briefly about a theatre thing and she answers a little absently, making a mental list of what to pack and who to call. He's not really responding anyway, so possibly he's just finding the sound of her voice soothing (she does have an exceptionally musical tone to her voice).
After he says 'goodbye' but before he hangs up, his voice dips for a moment. "Thanks, Rach."
She's really glad he called.
*****
Rabbi Wiseman chooses to close the prayers with a lengthy discourse on the value and nature of forgiveness and she watches Noah from several rows back, sees his mouth tighten and his jaw set.
Rachel expected the funeral to be distressing, of course. She just never realized what she would find most difficult was simply watching Noah silently endure it.
*****
Everyone continues on to the Puckerman's house to pay their respects and she catches up briefly with Mike and Matt, which is nice because what from what she's observed of dozens of glee club hook ups and break ups, people pick sides during times of conflict and she had always assumed that they wouldn't be interested in talking to her any more. And it's a real pleasure to see Tina, who she's kept up with sporadically since graduation. At one point, she catches sight of Finn, which isn't unexpected, since she'd seen him slip in the synagogue with Carole just before the first reading, but the next time she looks over he's gone.
Noah is nowhere to be seen.
When she politely breaks off the conversation, she tells them she's going to find something to drink. Really, she's just anxious to see him. As she moves from room to room, she looks around with interest. She's only been here a few times, mostly at parties he threw when his mother and sister were out of town. (Finn had never wanted to stay long.) Before she goes far she's drawn in by a group of family pictures hanging on the wall, in particular by one of a young Noah holding a wrapped bundle that is presumably Sarah, his face awed. Something about the gentle curve of his smile is so familliar that almost involuntarily she reaches up a finger to trace it over the glass of the frame and then she jumps guiltily when the bundle herself, (now thirteen? fourteen?) captures her arm.
"My brother says you go to school in New York City. Tell me everything about it." Sarah says excitedly, dragging her up the stairs. "Lima sucks balls."
At the top of the landing they almost collide with Noah who barks, "Watch your mouth, shorty."
"Up yours," Sarah responds cheerfully and he laughs and yanks her hair.
"Lemme just borrow Rachel for a second," he tells his sister and then pulls her into his bedroom without waiting for a response.
He's changed out of his suit, (which she'd recognized vaguely as dating from Nationals, senior year), and what little hair he has is wet, maybe from the shower and it's horribly inappropriate given the timing, but god, he's close enough so she can smell his cologne or aftershave or whatever, and honestly, is it fair for one man to be so sinfully gorgeous in that white button down which shows off the frame of his shoulders nicely and...
"Hey," he says.
"Hello," she replies, completely losing her train of thought. "How are you? And Sarah, and your mother, of course?"
He shrugs. "Okay. We all had time to, you know..."
She nods.
"It's good to see you," he says, taking a step closer, the hand still on her elbow travelling to her hip.
"You too," she says and it's almost a sigh and apparently it's all the agreement he needs as he kisses her, and she winds her arms around his neck.
It's hot and sweet and not nearly long enough because they both hear his mother calling his name from the base of the stairs. He tightens his arms around her momentarily, pressing her close and then releases her.
"Later," he promises, his eyes dark and then as he opens the door to find his sister staring at the two of them with one eyebrow raised (Rachel can't help wondering if that's genetic). He rolls his eyes at Sarah and mouths "good luck," to her.
By the time Rachel finishes telling Sarah everything about New York City, (and maybe, possibly, sort of promising she can come for a visit, damn that persuasive Puckerman charm) the afternoon is well advanced and people are beginning to leave. Mike and Matt are actually at the door since Mike has an early flight tomorrow and Matt is his ride. They both give her a big hug and make her promise to stay in touch and she smiles back shyly and promises that she will.
She doesn't want to go, though, until she's done something concrete to help, so she goes into the kitchen and starts dealing with the mountains of food that people have brought, covering platters, making room in the refrigerator and rooting through the cupboards looking for storage containers.
"Tupperware's in the cabinet by the sink," a familiar voice says and she whirls around to find Finn. He nods at the correct cabinet and crosses to the refrigerator to get himself a soda.
"Thank you," she says awkwardly.
It's uncomfortable, because for one thing the last time he saw her, about a year ago in Walgreens, he'd completely ignored her. And for another, some of the things he'd said to her when they broke up were extremely harsh and while she knows intellectually that they were said in the heat of the moment, 'self-centered bitch' is somewhat hard to forgive. (He'd also called her narcissistic, but she's less offended by that because she's relatively sure both that A: he was just repeating something Kurt said and B: he had no idea what the word actually meant.)
So she's definitely surprised when he starts talking to her, but she's willing to let bygones be bygones and at first it's very civil. He tells her about how things at Ohio State are going, apparently he's a Physical Education major and loves it, he makes a few references to what seems to be a semi-serious girlfriend, and then shares several funny and very cute stories about the Little League team he coaches.
It's mostly nice. She's remembering all of the reasons why she always thought he was so sweet, but it's also a little disturbing because she can't remember a single reason why she spent more than two years dating him.
When the conversation turns to her, things start to get a little more tense.
"So how's New York treating you? You a big star yet?"
He's smiling and the words are friendly and in fact, Mike and Matt had teased her with similar variations, but at the same time, his tone is a little...off.
"NYU's program is challenging, but fantastic. I've been working with some great people...." She starts talking about her classes, her summer internship, but he's looking down and frowning slightly, fiddling with the tab on his Coke can and eventually she trails off.
"So you two kept in touch, huh?" he says.
She looks at him blankly and he continues, "You and Puck, I mean..."
In touch? In her head the filthy innuendo that Noah would let loose describing exactly how in touch they've been pops up and she has to clamp her lips together to prevent it from slipping out. Luckily, Finn doesn't notice and he's already continuing. "I'm a little surprised to see you here is all."
"Noah is an old high school friend. Why wouldn't I be here?" she counters. Yes, friends. Friends that have seen each other naked. And maybe there's the potential for more than that, at least in her mind, but that is absolutely none of Finn's business.
"Yeah, it's funny though. It doesn't look like too many of his other friends showed up. Artie didn't make an appearance. Tina was only around for what? About five minutes? No Mercedes or Kurt. And look," he points to the remainder of the food still loaded on the table. "I don't see Santana here bringing cookies and he fucked her."
"You did too," she flashes and an angry flush spreads across his face.
"You know why no one else is here? Because Puck is a shitty friend and if you make the mistake of hanging around him too much he's going to hurt you too!"
"That's a terrible thing to say!" she says indignantly. "Noah made one mistake years ago and..."
"Jesus, Rachel. That is such bullshit," he mutters and then he steps forward and grabs her arm. "Come on. I'll take you home."
"Finn, don't be ridiculous, I'm not going anywhere. And please let go, you're hurting me," she complains, but then his eyes flick up, over her shoulder, and if anything, he looks angrier.
She twists a little bit and Noah is standing in the kitchen doorway. His expression is ugly and his voice tight. "Let her go."
Finn's hand tightens around her wrist and she can't help letting out a squeak.
"Hudson, let her go or I swear I'm going to forget that this is my mother's house and fucking beat the crap out of you."
Rachel can feel all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prick up and possibly Finn feels it too because for whatever reason his grip loosens and she's able to jerk away from him. She takes a step back towards Noah, not touching, but close enough to, standing firmly and uncategorically between the two of them, best friends she'd always thought. Lately though, she's been finding out that she was wrong about a lot of things.
"Finn, you should leave," she says firmly and Finn looks embarrassed but mulish at the same time.
"I was leaving anyway. You should think about what I said, Rachel," he says and then jostles past Noah hard on his way out the door.
She grabs at Noah's arm as if to stop him from going for Finn, but he's cold and still under her hand, looking at her with his face some unidentifiable mixture of irritation and concern.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Of course. I'm so sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was cause a scene."
"Not your fault," he says shortly and then when she turns back to the food on the table he adds, "You can leave that. My aunt's almost done cleaning the linen closet and she'll just come down and redo it all anyway."
She'd met his aunt earlier in the afternoon, so she has to acknowledge that this is most likely true. "Well, unless there's anything else I can do to help, I guess I'll call Daddy."
"I can give you a ride home. If you want."
"All right," she says cautiously. He's still tense, but it doesn't seem at all unreasonable that he would welcome a chance to get out of the house for a few minutes.
(He smiles at her and her breath catches and suddenly that 'later,' is echoing through her brain.)
She gathers her belongings while he gets his keys and tells his mother where he's going and Rachel can hear her, "Don't hurry back!" all the way across the room, while his sister and aunt look on in interest.
Things are quiet in the car. She doesn't know what he's thinking, but she for one can't help remembering that the last time the two of them were alone together for an extended period of time, she was naked and those same hands gripping the steering wheel have explored every inch of her body, and she's got to get a handle on this before she embarrasses herself.
"What did Hudson say?"
Ugh. That's actually a fairly effective distraction.
"Nothing worth repeating," she says and then when he misses the turn. "Noah, it's left on Kirkland."
"Not like I can't guess what he said. And yeah, I remember where your place is. You up for driving around for a while?"
She agrees and sends a quick text explaining the situation to her fathers although she's purposely vague about her current location and when she expects to be back home. Mostly because she doesn't have that information herself, but also because most of what they know about Noah is the (admittedly spotty) reputation he earned in high school and she doesn't want them to worry.
She's certainly not concerned, but a possibly a little surprised when he heads out on Highway 10 towards the resevoir. He drives past the public beach, past the fishing access where high school students go to make out at night and then he turns into a little gap in the trees that she's never seen before and picks his way carefully along a dirt track that only with a little imagination can she recognize as a road. He gets out once and pushes open a rusty gate before returning to the truck and driving a few hundred yards more to a small grassy clearing. Through the treeline ahead, she can see the glint of the setting sun reflecting on the water.
"Where are we?" she asks when he throws the truck into park.
He shrugs. "No place, really. Land used to belong to some old lady and when she died all her kids started fighting over what to do with it and shit, now it's probably her grandkids arguing. There used to be a house but it burned down five or six years ago. No one ever comes here."
She waits for more, like how he knows about this place or what they're doing there, but he lets out a breath and sinks down in his seat.
"Is this where you brought girls when you were in high school?" she asks impulsively, not because she wants to know (even back then, she avoided thinking of him with other girls), but because she's nervous and it's the first thing that comes into her head.
He scowls and she thinks maybe she's touched him on a sore spot and she opens her mouth to take it back or change the subject, but then he says sharply. "No one. I've never brought anyone here. Shit Rachel, if I just wanted to fuck, there's a million other places to go. Hell, you've probably been to a few with Finn. What do you think? Maybe we should compare notes."
After that she's not really interested in making an apology and her hand darts to the passenger door which absolutely yes, she recognizes as ridiculous because they're miles out of town, but old habits die hard. But before she gets the door open his hand snakes out and grabs her arm.
She doesn't say anything, but allows herself to be pulled back, saying a little stiffly, "I think I've had enough of driving around for today. Will you take me home?"
"Rach. Look, it was kind of a shitty thing to say. And yeah, I know it's stupid and unfair but sometimes it pisses me off." He's still gripping her, only now he's rubbing his thumb along the inside of her arm, applying a gentle traction to pull her closer.
"What's unfair?" she asks, a little unwillingly. (She's still sliding over towards him though. Stupid lack of control.)
"Hudson. That he got you for two years and I got you for like, a week."
"Oh," she says in a tiny voice. She swallows. "Well, you've got me right now."
"Yeah?" he asks breathlessly.
"You know you do."
He does have her, and she has to blink against it, the revelation hitting her like a searchlight on a dark night. She's been half in love with him for months.
Now what?