This is a prompt fill from the Puck/Rachel Drabble meme-
Prompt via -hiddenmoonlyt - Puck and Rachel riding home together after the funeral.

Make Me Forget

Puck can see her out of the corner of his eyes, the way the tears cascade down her cheeks, and he knows that as hard as this is for all of them that she's crumbling at the seams. The past year has been hard on her, harder on her then any of the rest of them, and sometimes when he looks at her he can see the pain in her eyes; the scars on her soul. Her fa├žade had been breaking lately, little pieces chipping away, and as hard as she tries to stay strong he knows it can only last so long.

He waits until they are both situated in the small black car he borrowed from his Mom before he really looks at her. She's wearing a simple black dress, her hair twisted and clipped up off of her neck, her face bare of makeup. It's probably the most beautiful (and vulnerable) he'd ever seen her and the whole situation is just fucked up. "Are your Dads home?" he whispers. She closes her eyes for just a moment, a few tears trickling out, and shakes her head no. As much as he knows her Dads love her, he also knows that she spends way too much fucking time by herself.

He knows she has a therapist on speed dial and he's pretty sure that if she called Kurt that he would come over because apparently they are like BFF's now or something. But Kurt is with Mercedes and he's pretty sure he heard the two of them making plans with Mike and Tina. None of them really thought to include her. "Why don't you come back to my place for awhile?" It's not really a question so he doesn't wait for a response, just pulls out of the parking lot and turns to the left.

It's quiet. Rachel sits and stares out her car window, eyes so focused that he was sure her mind was somewhere else. On the way to the church he'd flipped the radio off preferring the comfortable silence of the car to the quiet hum of music in the background, so he listens to the purr of the engine and the sound of the tires running along the road and waits.

"I just," her voice breaks and she shakes her head, eyes closing. "It hurts." It's probably the first honest thing he's heard her say in days. "Seeing Finn with Quinn, having to hear about Shelby from Jesse, constantly getting left out; is there something wrong with me that people feel the need to be so cruel?" She lets a few loose strands of her hair cascade over her face as he tries to formulate a response. There's nothing he can really say, though, to make it any better.

The flood lights are shining on the porch, which is a pretty clear sign that his Mom is working the late shift. Puck shoves his key in the lock, looking over his shoulder just once as he pushes the door open and drops his key on the small table in the entryway. "Water?" he questions. She nods her head, her fingers playing with the strap on her purse and the whole thing just seems so hopeless. "Be right back," he mutters.

He stands in front of the sink, letting the faucet run cold, and watches the water twist and swirl down the drain. He's not the type of guy that should be comforting her; he's no good at this, no good at emotions and feelings. But he's also pretty sure that he's the only person she has right now.

When he gets back to the living room, Rachel is setting on the couch her hands folded primly in her lap (her ankles crossed). There are streaks down her cheeks, the remnants of her tears, but all he can think about is the tangles of hair hanging in her face. He holds the glass of water out to her and watches as she gulps it back. "Thank you," her voice is quiet, broken and all he can do is nod his head. "I know there are a million other things you would probably rather be doing," she continues, "and I'm not quite sure why you are doing this but it does mean a lot."

He's not really sure either, if he's honest with himself, and as he plops down on the couch beside her he shrugs his shoulders in response. "We're friends, Berry. It's what friends do." She looks so fucking small and for some reason he has this huge urge to pull her to him and wrap his arms around her. Instead he lets the words tumble from his brain and out his mouth. "Plus I made your life hell for awhile, so it's only fair I'm here to help pick up the pieces now."

She shifts uncomfortably, her hands tugging at the end of her dress, before she finally just relaxes back against the couch cushion with a sigh. Her thigh is pressing lightly against the side of his and he can feel the heat permeating through his pants. "I just want to forget," she mumbles, "just for a moment how messed up everything is." She looks up at him through her eyelashes and he feels his breath catching in his throat. Her teeth nibble on her bottom lip and as hard as he tries to look away he can't. "Please," she murmurs, "make me forget."

The kiss is soft, tentative, and as hard as he tries he can't pull away. Her hand slides slowly up his chest to wrap around his neck and he feels the gentle tug of her fingers on the skin. It's pretty obvious he needs to be the strong one and he knows that as much as he wants more, that neither of them are thinking too clearly. She nips at his bottom lip, her tongue soothing the sting and he jerks back; breaths escaping in a pant.

"This isn't a good idea." His voice is shaking, breathing shallow. "This is really not a good idea." It's fucked up that he's the voice of reason right now, but one of them needs to be and she's clearly not in the right mind to do it. He twists a bit more towards her, his body leaning into hers as he tangles his hands in her hair and pulls her back to his mouth. Her fingers move to grip his shoulders and he lets his tongue swipe against her lip once before she opens her mouth. It's familiar and they both let out a low moan that echoes through the quiet room.

"Please Noah," she whimpers, pulling her mouth away, "Please." He can feel the heat of her body pressing against him, the warmth radiating through his clothes. He clenches his eyes tight listening to the sound of her pleas and as much as it breaks his heart, he can't be that person again.

"I can't be your mistake, Rachel. I won't be your mistake." She looks hurt, broken, and a lone tear tumbles from her eye and drops down onto his skin. "Fuck, you make it hard to say no to you." She leans down and presses her lips against his and he feels like she's devouring him all at once.

"Then don't say no," the words are whispered and she clenches her jaw tight, "plus it wouldn't be a mistake. I want this, Noah." She closes her eyes and he can already see the rejection forming on her face. He lets his hand move from her neck to her chin, cupping it gently in his palm.

"You're beautiful, Rachel" his voice is firm, resolute. She's quiet, stunned for just a moment, before the tears tumble down her face and she crumples into his shoulder. He runs his hand gently down her back, soothing her frayed nerves and listens to her stuttered breathing. "And as much as you think it won't matter, you don't want your first time to be just because you want to forget. You deserve so much more than that." It may sound fucking corny as all hell, but it's the truth and he's always at least given her that. He may not be able to give her what she wants, at least not this time, but he can give her what she needs; Friendship.