Author's note: My alternative take on the "Blame it on the alcohol" episode. I'm saying up front, I just had to get this out of my system. You might be a tad surprised, considering how straight-up Puckelberry I've been pretty much since the beginning. I have to thank Tarafina for introducing me to EvanBerry. I read a few of her Sam/Rachel stories in a fit of curiosity and after I did, I was like, (head cocked in confusion) "What? Wait...that actually kind of works." So, here you go. Hope you enjoy!

Music suggestions: 'We are young' by Glee Cast, 'Houses' by Great Northern, 'Live like there's no tomorrow' by Selena Gomez & the Scene, '4 real' by Avril Lavigne. (But if you're the type to listen to a song over and over again for hours just because it feels right, or if you ever even listen to any of my genius suggestions, lol...I recommend you listen to the first one by itself when you read this)

Disclaimer: Don't own Glee.

Blame It On The Dysfunctional Relationships

Rachel awoke slowly some time Sunday morning to the sun shining weakly through her bedroom window. Cracking her eyes open into slits, the clock on her bedside table read 11:36 AM. Once the mystery of time processed itself in her brain, her eyelids fell shut once again in self-preservation.

Her head throbbed dully and she had an...interesting taste in her mouth. Not entirely unpleasant, but certainly not her norm. Snuggling her nose deeper into her pillow and away from the offensive light, Rachel came to realize that she wasn't alone in her bed. A hand, that most definitely did not belong to her, was up her sleep-shirt, clenched tightly between her breasts. Also, the hard, most definitely male, body behind her was pressed up close enough to her that she could feel everything about him. Especially lower parts of him.

With an almost dizzying burst of clarity, she recalled just who was snuggled up with her in her bed. Naked, she might add.

Her faced burned bright red and she bit into her closed fist as a memory surfaced in her mind...

Laying face to face on her bed, taking a momentary breather from the flurry of lips, tongue and teeth for the past ten straight minutes, he brushed her hair from her face and smiled a relaxed, easy smile. Hand on her hip, skirt of her constrictive dress bunched up in his hand past her knees, his eyes ducked away from hers for a moment before he looked back up at her with a shy, yet determined expression.

"Can I go down on you?" He asked in a gentle tone, his eyes searching hers for permission.

She'd hesitated for a fraction of a second before she realized that the answer was going to be yes. Nodding her head, she then parted her legs slightly and pushed him down in the appropriate direction.

"These Aerosmith lips belong only to me and they'll go wherever I damn well want them to go." Sam muttered defiantly with an entirely too focused expression, one corner of his mouth quirked up wickedly before swooping in and attaching his mouth to her most intimate place.

His tongue was on her...inside her, making her claw at the sheets desperately and her thighs clench around Sam's mop of disheveled blond hair as he brought forth sounds she didn't know she was capable of emitting.

Her first orgasm was rocketing through her an impressive one-minute and thirty-five seconds later. That was an estimation, mind you. At the time, she'd been kind of preoccupied with the thrilling experience of having a man giving her oral for the first time.

She'd let Sam Evans give her oral. Along with a few other very intimate acts. And while he claimed to have never done anything like that with either Quinn or Santana, or any other girl for that matter, he sure did have a natural talent that most men could never claim to have. Even after many sessions of performing the act.

Rachel shifted enough to eye him over her shoulder.

"Sam." Rachel said in a coaxing, yet firm tone.

"Just five more minutes, lor 'aw, then we can go again." Sam promised in a sleepy tone, gathering Rachel in closer to his chest.

She had to admit, she almost (alright, so there was no almost about it) smiled at his adorable tone and casual mix-in of what had to be that Avatar language Na'vi she'd heard Santana complaining about to Brittany the week before.

"Sam," Rachel said again, adding a little more force to her tone. "I must insist that you wake up and kindly remove your hands from my person this instant."

She could almost hear the frown that formed on his countenance as he began to reluctantly stir.

A surprised gasp of pain escaped unbidden when his left hand closed over her right breast and squeezed possessively. Apparently, he'd favored all of her right side body parts. The sharp pain that accompanied his squeeze was almost as bad as the uncomfortable ache she felt between her legs.

The pained gasp turned out to be more effective than any words at waking Sam. She'd always admired that antiquated, otherwise extinct, chivalric quality he had about him.

His hand was abruptly yanked away and Sam shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide and ready.

The awareness quickly morphed into confusion. "Where am I?"

Rachel cleared her throat and pulled the covers up higher over her chest, covering what she'd just discovered was his shirt. "In my bed." Rachel answered with a weak smile.

oooowooooo*ooorooooooo*

Monday morning dawned a lot brighter and a hell of a lot earlier than Sam's liking. Flopping over onto his back after shutting off his alarm, Sam threw his arm across his eyes and moaned dreadfully.

He'd dreamt about her. Soft dark brown hair and innocent brown eyes overflowing with daring and a hunger she wanted only him to fill. It had to be actual memories making their way to the surface, because the feelings and sensations that accompanied them were just too real.

He tried to recall the details, but as sleep fell further and further away, so did the clarity. He knew he'd had a good time. Hell, he was pretty certain it had been beyond awesome. He just didn't know if she felt the same.

He didn't want to be some douche that only cared about only getting himself off. It didn't help that the only thing he remembered clearly, aside from her chucking his shirt at him the morning after and shooing him out, was that he'd hurt her. He knew she'd been a virgin. He'd technically been one of those himself. But he wasn't the one with a freshness seal to be punctured the first time around.

He could only pray that he'd made it up to her for hurting her like that.

ooonoooooo*oooxooooozoooo*

"Hey, Artie! Wait up!" Sam called out, jogging as quickly as his pounding head would allow. Artie pulled out of the flow of traffic and put on the brakes to wait for Sam to catch up. "It's cool if I crashed on your couch Saturday night, right?"

"What?" Artie drawled out, scrutinizing Sam with an "are you whacked" expression. Sam slanted his glasses down his nose to look at Artie with an air of desperation. "Oh." Artie uttered as realization dawned. "Dude, it's way too early to be freaking with my mind like that. Especially after that party. It was off the hook."

"I had to give my parents something. They were seriously pissed when I didn't come home Saturday night." Sam explained, shoving a hand through his hair.

"You dawg!" Artie exclaimed, shoving out at Sam's arm with one hand, throwing Sam off-balance a step. Sam made a motion for him to keep it down. "You totally got some, didn't you?" Sam nodded his head affirmatively. "Told you Santana would give it up a lot faster than Quinn."

"Yeah." Sam agreed in a flat tone, not meeting Artie's eye as he slid his sunglasses back into place. He was counting on the fact that Artie had left with the first group consisting of Finn, Brittany, Mercedes and Quinn. Santana, Lauren, Puck, Mike and Tina had been poured into Kurt's SUV about an hour after Finn's group and taken home via the Blaine and Kurt express.

No one would ever guess that he'd never left the party, and it'd been Rachel that'd kept him warm that cold February night, probably pushing him to limits he was glad he was conditioned to enduring.

"Don't worry, dawg. Totally got your back." Artie said reassuringly, holding up a fist to bump as Brittany and Quinn joined their group.

oooaooooo*ooxoooooo*ooooooozoooo*

Tuesday morning, and Rachel was still feeling the effects of her Saturday night bash. It certainly didn't help that Mother Nature had started conspiring against her as well on her way to school that morning.

"Hey, Rachel. Can we talk?" Sam asked, appearing next to her as she organized her locker. "Did you know it's not very easy to catch you alone? I've been looking for a chance to talk to you since yesterday."

"Was there something else you wanted to ask me besides comment on my busy schedule?" Rachel asked neutrally, continuing with her locker inspection. "I'm assuming this has something to do with what happened after my party Saturday."

"Yeah." Sam uttered in flustered tone, staring down at his shoes. He then clenched his jaw and looked up at her sharply. "Did I make you feel good?" Sam blurted out, his cheeks promptly turning a deep shade of red.

Rachel's mouth gaped as she struggled to form a response.

Sam rushed on nervously before she could pull anything together. "It's just...I don't remember much from that night, I mean, before waking up next to you and being kicked out. All I've got is this one memory, right after we just...I mean, I..." at this, Sam shifted uncomfortably and rocked forward on the balls of his feet. He then let the thought trail off into nothingness. "I remember your face and it looked like you were in a lot of pain. I asked you if it'd be better if I just stopped and pulled out. I can't even remember what you said back to me." Sam finished in a frustrated tone, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

"Sam," Rachel murmured soothingly, a small smile gracing her lips. He met her eyes hopefully. "You made me feel very good. Both times."

"Both...?" Sam trailed off in wonderment. "Now I'm really disappointed I don't remember."

Rachel giggled, unbidden, at his adorable crestfallen expression.

The blood then quickly drained from his face. "Did I...I mean we...were we...safe?"

The light left her eyes and Rachel's gaze dropped to the books still clutched tightly in her arms.

"No." Rachel answered shortly. She then rushed on at the wilting direction Sam's posture had taken. "But it's alright. I just...I mean, I started..." At this, her voice lowered so much that Sam almost didn't hear her next words. "I started my period this morning."

"Oh." Sam uttered, looking a little green at the news. "That's good, I guess."

"Yeah." Rachel agreed weakly, a wan smile on her lips.

"It's just...it was supposed to be my job to use protection. My dad taught me that, and it was irresponsible of me to overlook that, just because I was drunk. I should have been looking out for us, Rae, and I blew it. I'm really sorry." Sam said apologetically, an anger in his voice that was directed inward laced every word.

"I..." Rachel stuttered, fumbling for words. "That was really nice of you to say, and I accept your apology, though it's completely unnecessary. I am just as much at fault as you." Rachel finished demurely. She then ducked her head shyly and turned to put the finishing touches on her locker.

"What?" Sam asked, a crooked smile pulling at his lips, wondering what she was thinking.

"It's nothing." Rachel waved off, shutting her locker. "It's just...you called me Rae."

"Oh. Sorry." Sam apologized. "It just slipped out."

"It's fine." Rachel waved off again in an unworried tone. She turned to face him with a notebook and an Advanced Physics textbook clutched to her chest. "No one's ever given me a nickname before. I don't mind. It's just...for the sake of your reputation, you probably shouldn't call me that when other people are around." Rachel then smiled sadly in parting, turning and walking away from him.

"Hey, Rae." Sam called out at her retreating back. Rachel glanced over her shoulder curiously. "How about when no one else is around?"

A bright genuine smile lit up her face. "I'd really like that."

oooocooooo*ooovoooooooo*ooonoooooo

His chin slid off the fist he'd been leaning on when the memories came rushing back to him. Puck glanced over at him with a curious amused expression before turning his gaze back to Mr. Schu as he lectured about something in Spanish.

Sam had more pressing concerns.

He could now remember the boisterous, unrestrained laughter that escaped her when he almost crushed her as he was trying to show off and carry her up the stairs to her bedroom.

He remembers the texture of Rachel's gauzy dress as he bunched it up in his fist, easing her underwear down her legs with the other.

He remembers the fascination that pulled his eyes to her chest as she tugged at the dress's zipper and yanked the dress up and over her head, tossing it carelessly to the floor and laying back against the mattress, watching her as she reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair at the base of his scalp, sending fissures of pleasure down his spine as she yanked his face down to hers.

He remembers the eager anticipation that had coursed through his veins when she'd given him permission to touch her and kiss her. In the place he'd just pulled her panties from.

Quinn...they'd never gotten anywhere close to third base in their relationship. Hell, he considered himself lucky that he'd gotten to first base. Lots of ice baths.

Santana...well, she'd let him touch her boobs when they made out. She was even willing to go further. Call him old-fashioned, but he didn't sleep with a girl he'd only just started dating. Plus, she intimidated the hell out of him. She probably would have laughed in his face if he'd tried to suggest letting his inexperienced lips anywhere near her lady parts.

But Rachel...Rachel was different. A good different. Finn was wrong about her and for her. When he'd hesitantly asked her consent, she'd nodded encouragingly and opened her legs slightly, her eyes darting away from his just as shyly.

She didn't ridicule him when he murmured small endearments in her ear in Na'vi.

She took the hand he didn't have clutching her right hip and held on tightly, threading her fingers through his as he entered her as gently as he possibly could.

She let him bring their joined hands to her face to use the pad of his thumb to wipe away the few tears that leaked down her face as her body adjusted to his intrusion.

She leaned in and accepted his gentle butterfly kisses as he attempted to distract her from the pain he wished more than anything he could take away from her.

Her smile and hesitant shift of her hips when the pain began to recede and was ready for him to move.

The feel of her hand clenching around his, their linked hands stretched up over their heads, sometimes sliding off the bed due to their being at an angle across the bed.

The bright expression of wonder and amazement when her second orgasm hit her, her eyes never leaving his, watching his face raptly until he followed her into oblivion a few erratic thrusts later.

Her warm smile as she gently pushed a few strands of his sweaty hair out of his eyes and reached up with her lips to press an affectionate kiss to his lips when it was all over.

She fell asleep stretched out across his chest, one arm wound around and under his left shoulder, the other hand resting over his heart. He discovered the tattoo of two dainty musical notes on her left shoulder.

She woke him up a few hours later, biting her lip in concentration as her right hand stroked him into attention.

He remembers surging up to reclaim that lip, coaxing it into submission between his own.

He remembers letting her push him onto his back, watching as she rose up to straddle him, transfixed at the sight of her positioning herself on his member before his eyes rolled back into his head as she took him in to the hilt and rode him.

He remembers kneading her right breast, sitting up so he could latch onto the other with his lips and teeth. Hearing her musical screams and hypnotic gasps of ecstasy when he hugged her and switched their positions, watching her avidly as he reached between them and fumbled to find her pleasure nub. Smiling victoriously when he succeeded and she racked her nails down his back as she arched off the bed, her chest curving up sensuously to his as she climaxed around him for the third time.

His smile faltering when she flipped them back over and pulled away, sliding down his body. The way his toes curled and his hands fisted into the sheets when she introduced him to her no gag reflex.

Feeling shamefaced when he came in her mouth, despite his warnings to her beforehand. His own expression of wonderment when she swallowed and swiped the back of her hand across her smirking mouth.

Standing on shaky limbs and retrieving a wet washcloth to clean off the after-affects of their lovemaking. Collapsing next to her and spreading her legs enough for him to gently wipe the dried blood and semen from the apex of her thighs. Handing the cloth off and stretching out on his back as she folded the cloth to a clean side and carefully repeated a similar act on him, being as thorough as you would expect a drunk Rachel Berry to still be.

Crawling up the bed and pulling the covers back enough for them to slide under, curving his body protectively around Rachel's as she reached down and straightened the covers over their cooling bodies. Missing her heat when she leans over the bed to snatch up his shirt from where he'd discarded it on the floor. Smiling with some sort of caveman pride when she wiggles her arms and head through the appropriate holes and snuggles back into his embrace. Snaking his hand up under her impromptu sleep-shirt to rest his hand over her belly.

She smelled like pomegranate, citrus, and a mixture of their commingled sweat. Falling to sleep with his nose in her hair and her hand reaching under the shirt to lead his hand clasped in hers up closer to her chest.

His final thought being how glad he was that he'd offered to stay and help her clean up the mess everyone else hadn't thought twice of leaving behind.

"Yo, Sam!" Puck snapped cheerfully, if mildly irritated. Gesturing to the empty classroom, he continued. "I don't want to know what you were thinking about, especially if it was about that "love fest" you had with "Santana" Saturday night, but class is over." Puck placed quotations and emphasis on two very important words. Almost like he didn't believe the "truth" Artie had no doubt already shared with Puck. Puck was sneaky scary and knew practically everything about everyone. Sam was more than a little afraid of Puck, despite the rumor going around that Zizes had effectively neutered the former badass. To Sam, there was no "former" about it.

Puck closed in on Sam, leaning in threateningly, his voice low and deadly. "I'm only gonna tell you this once. Hurt "Santana" and I'll break both your legs." At Sam's careful acknowledging nod, Puck stood up straight and smiled good-naturedly. "The warning bell for lunch is about to ring. I've gotta go catch up to Zizes before she steals all the tater tots and french fries."

Sam leaned back in his chair and stared in a bewildered trance at the two words on the dry-erase board until the lunch warning bell rang.

"Genuino. Honest." Sam murmured to himself as he passed the board on his way out of the room.

Did such a concept exist in any high school relationship?

A private smile tugged at his lips as he hitched his backpack higher onto his shoulder. It probably could if it were him and Rachel.

He had quite an afternoon ahead of him. Breaking up with a girl like Santana was never easy. Fortunately, he had some experience breaking up with bitchy ex-cheerleaders.

It was a good thing he had a girl like Rachel Berry to look forward to, and he knew just how to convince her that he'd be just as good for her.

ooozoooo*ooocoooooo*ooomooooooo

A few hours, a visit to the nurse, and the hot water tap in the guy's locker room shower, and Sam waited patiently for Rachel to enter the room and choose a seat. Knowing that Rachel would never miss a glee rehearsal, short of family emergency or near-death experience...or some combination of the two, Sam willed his foot to stop jiggling nervously as the minutes ticked by and no Rachel.

His breath exhaled in a whoosh as Rachel walked in right as the bell rang, her steps not quite as confident and sure as she took a seat in the back row, two seats away from him. He was sure he was the only one who knew why Rachel wasn't quite 100 percent. Well, except for maybe Puck, but what was the Zizes-obsessed badass honestly going to do with the information but deny it? Subtly, Sam stood and edged his way down the row until he was next to Rachel. Taking the seat next to her, he smiled the most disarming smile in his arsenal and greeted her with a hushed, sympathetic, "How are you feeling?"

Wrapping her hands around her midsection, she quietly groaned pitifully. "Much worse. I feel terrible." Rachel admitted, trusting he'd hold her confidence.

"I brought something for you. I snatched it from the nurse's office." Sam whispered in a clandestine tone, waggling his eyebrows enticingly before unzipping his backpack and pulling it into his lap. Looking around the room to be sure no one was paying attention, he retrieved a small hot water bottle from its depths. Motioning her forward in her seat, he eased the freshly filled bottle between her lower back and the chair. "My mom does this all the time when they get really bad. It doesn't make any sense to me, but she says it really helps."

He smelled like spearmint and Axe Excite as he leaned in to explain why he had a hot water bottle in his backpack. Like he'd just taken a shower before coming to rehearsal. A lot more intense than the subdued version she'd inhaled as she'd drifted off to sleep in his shirt less than half a week earlier.

She smiled up at him warmly, her features already less pinched. "Thank you, Sam."

He reached across the space separating them and took her hand, brushing his thumb across her knuckles reverently as he held her gaze. "Not a problem, Rae."

oooovoooooo*ooouooooo*ooowoooxooo

You all know I just had to sneak at least one Na'vi endearment in there! Lor 'aw translates to "my beautiful one" (well, according to the English to Na'vi translator Navilator anyway). This story grew way out of control! I almost couldn't keep up with the ideas that kept sprouting up in my head, listening to "We Are Young" on repeat the whole time. It was crazy bizarre. It's kind of sad, (but yet, very invigorating and refreshing that it can still happen) that I haven't felt this inspired in a long time. Thank my muse, for she just wouldn't leave the idea alone until Rachel and Sam were on the way to a long beautiful relationship with no distractions, like annoying possessive girlfriends or jerk boyfriends. And following true to the nature of most great EvanBerry stories, contained a protective, yet platonic Puck looking out for his hot little Jewish-American Princess, lol!