A/N: This was a oneshot written for the "Deleted Scene" day during Puckleberry Week on tumblr. Fits in right after the party in "Blame it on the Alcohol". Makes references to "Special Education." Enjoy!

So he's really interested in finding out what kind of "drunks" the rest of the Gleeks are.

He found out two years ago that Santana is a weepy drunk. That was not a fun night. Three beers and she started crying and saying random Spanish words and all he could make out was pero...maybe? And she stopped mid blowjob to cry about tacos. Or taquitos? He can't remember but regardless, a mistake he wouldn't make again (and she made him crave taquitos and fuck if 7-11 was actually closed).

And Quinn...Quinn's an angry drunk. Who likes to have sex. And who believes his stupid reassurances. And then gets pregnant.

Yeah, that's another mistake he certainly would not be making again.

But the rest of them, it's a toss up. He pegs Rachel and Kurt to be clingy drunks. Mercedes is probably an angry black chick drunk. The Asians, maybe they fly through the air all Crouching Tiger when drunk.

So he'll probably go to this Rachel Berry party, if just for the curiosity factor. He's got nothing else to do. She'll probably make those appetizery things too, fuck does he love those bite sized little mushroom shits.

Oh, and Zizes pretty much told him they're going so, yeah, they're going.

"But you'll have to get your own ride, Puckerman," She pointed at his chest earlier that day before second period when he asked about the party at her locker. "Cause I don't want you all puking in my Buick when you can't hold your liquor after, like, three drinks."

He's been drinking since he was 15, so he basically considers himself the king of Jack and Cokes, but you don't argue with Lauren Zizes. Especially if you want to end the night in between her ginormous boobs. 'Sides, he's only a block away and weather's been kinda warm lately, so he'll just walk his ass there. Whatev.

The minute he walks into the basement that 1975 forgot, and sees Rachel in some Carpenters reject dress (yeah, he knows The Carpenters, shut up, his ma's a big fan) he knows he's going to need to break into that liquor cabinet for this evening to be salvaged. The only person that gets drunk off of two wine coolers is the head cheerleader, apparently, and even that's debatable.

You could get drunker from mouthwash. True story. He tried it when he was 14.

All it took was a nod from Finn (of course, because Saint Finn must preside over the evening's festivities) and Rachel agrees to it and the tide has turned.

Highlights of the evening? Brittany got all Striperella on the place and that shit's always hot. Finn got his panties in a knot cause he played Senor Responsible and stayed sober while everyone else was making asses of themselves. Rachel made out with the gay Warbler and Kurt got all twitchy and screechy because she got hot and bothered by the gay dude kiss.

The lowlights? Lauren's an angry drunk and he'll have a bruised arm tomorrow to show for it. And they aren't even bruises from fun sexy time, so fuck his life. Plus she was all, I'm going home alone, no boobs for you Puckerman, so this evening was kind of a bust.

Once Spin the Bottle was done things started winding down and people started leaving. All he had to do was walk his not so drunk anymore ass one block over and he'd be in his bed with his right hand and some internet porn.

But first, he really wants a fucking Coke Zero (minus the Jack).

He's opening the fridge in the kitchen when he hears a clunk. Poking his head out the doorway, he sees Rachel stumble in the hallway and bang her head against the wall.

"Well, well what are you doing you there, wall?" She wagged her finger at the wall and braced herself up with her other arm. Puck raised an eyebrow.

Oh, she is not going to have a pretty time of it in the A.M.

In fact, from the looks of it she's all by herself tonight and that's probably not the best idea. All of her so-called "friends" left to either have gay sex (Kurt) or giggle themselves into oblivion (Mercedes) or go have Asian sex (one guess on that one).

He hears another clunk and sets his Coke on the counter to find out what happened this time.

She fell flat on her face.

He's kind of an expert on drunkeness, so he takes it upon himself to help Berry up and make sure she got into bed without concussing herself or something since everyone else basically drank her shit and then left her to fend for herself. Freeloading tools.

Plus maybe he's a little concerned for her well being because she did have a fuckton of drinks tonight and it is her first time drinking and maybe he's always been a little protective of Rachel Berry and whatever, shut up.

Who's Senor Responsible now?

He makes his way to the hallway where Rachel was still laying on the floor and grabbed her arm. "Up, Rachel, up," he urges. She weighs all of, like, 95 pounds but it's useless when she acts like her legs have been replaced with jello.

Her face brightens when she sees him. "No-aaahhhhh!" she sings out. "This wall, I don't know where it came from but it just came out and hit me! Isn't that silly? I mean I never did anything to it and why do walls just appear? Where do theycome from, Noah?"

"Um...people...build them," He hates talking to drunk people sometimes. "Come on, it's time to go to bed."

"Noah!" She looks at him with wide eyes. "Are we going to...my boudoir? Together?" Her voice gets all low. "Are we going to have all the sex tonight?" She's drunk but she's still Rachel Berry, and she whispers the word, "sex", and then gets the giggles and can't stop.

Fuckin' A. "I don't know what the fuck a bood-wah is but you're going to your bedroom and I'm going to make sure you don't kill yourself on the way there and then I am going home."

He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to have "all the sex" with her. It sure as hell is not going to be drunken sex, though. And it certainly isn't going to be sex where she is still hung up on Finn Hudson because fuck if he's not sick of playing second string to Finn fucking Hudson ALL THE DAMN TIME.

Plus...he likes Rachel, ok? They've always had this "thing" between them and he just...she's just not like the other girls, she's better and shiny and just...she's just not like the other girls. He doesn't know why. She's just...not.

But she's also Finn Hudson's. Even when she's not Finn's, she's Finn's.

This is the longest staircase ever. Her legs still aren't working and he swears no less than five times under his breath because, even though she's light, she's all alcohol weight right now and it'd just be easier if she had passed out or something and he could carry her. Plus she's rambling about the stairs now and how the basement stairs is the mommy to the upstairs stairs because the basement ones are bigger and -

It sucks being responsible.

Especially when she said something about sex and now he's thinking about Rachel Berry boob in his hand.

He gets her to her bedroom and is about to leave when he hears this tiny little voice say, "I'm all alone in the house and could you please stay, just for a little bit, Noah, please..."

And we have transitioned into the needy drunk part of the night.

But when he turns around and sees her all big eyes and biting her lip and her hair all tousled curly around her face and her cheeks are red and she's just so fucking cute, and, nope, all of a sudden he actually has absolutely nowhere else to be other than sitting on her bed with her right now.

Sitting. Just sitting.

He lowers himself to the floor with his back against her bed and crosses his arms behind his head. She starts opening drawers and pulling out a t-shirt and pajama shorts and half of him is pleading with Jdawg that she will change in front of him and he can see the promised land and the other half of him is begging for her to go into the bathroom because if he sees her in panties shit's going down.

She went into the bathroom to change.

Thankfully?

Thankfully.

Because, right, yes, he's got a girlfriend, yes, Lauren Zizies. Lauren Zizies who could and would end him with one punch if he did anything with Rachel Berry.

(It'd probably be worth it though).

He could tell she's still a little drunk as she walks out of the bathroom, because she plops herself down on the floor next to him a little too hard. Her ass must hurt.

He could fix that, you know.

Fuck, No. No, he can't.

Just sitting, Puck, just sitting, he reminds himself.

She leans her head on his shoulder and is quiet for a moment, and Puck actually thinks she might have fallen asleep. Maybe he's off the hook.

"Noah, why don't boys like me?" Her voice is all small and trembly.

He sighs. He doesn't want to get into this. This is trouble, this leads to trouble.

"Finn told me I was clingy and needy tonight and he pushed me away." She sniffled. "Is it because I'm not Santana? Finn liked Santana. I bet he still does. She's sexy and...is that what boys like Noah?" She looks at him again with those big brown eyes of hers that he just...fuck.

He closes his eyes to try and figure out the right answer. He's not good at this words thing. "Rachel, boys like you, Finn and Jesse both dated you," He pointed out. "Finn's just...being douchey tonight. It sucks to be the sober one around a bunch of drunks." He's not having this conversation. He doesn't want to give her all these reasons and reassurance about Finn really loving her, or listen to her talk about Finn, or hear Finn's name or anything about Finn because, God, enough already. The only reason she ever needs him always has something to do with Finn.

"But Finn doesn't want me now." She says sadly. "I'm not pretty or sexy like Santana."

"Jesus, stop comparing yourself, Rachel," He's exasperated and throws up one hand (he'd throw the other one up, but her head's still on his shoulder). "You always play this little pity party for yourself about how no one likes you, no one's your friend, you're not hot, you're not pretty, but, fuck, you wear these little skirts that are hot as fuck and you have that ridiculously cute smile and your ass is smoking so just...fuck. Stop."

She lifts her head from his shoulder and a smile forms on her face as she looked up at him. "You think my smile is cute?" she murmurs the question.

Of all those compliments he just gave her, she focuses on that one? "Geez, Rach, yes." He replies. "S'fuckin adorable."

They're both quiet for a few minutes.

She yawns. "I'm tired, Noah."

He gets up from the floor and holds his hand out to help her up. She crawls into bed, and he pulls the covers up to her chin before turning to leave.

"No," she's got that small voice again. "You too. Just for a little bit?"

He sighs and toes his shoes off because, really, can he say no? So he crawls onto the bed, above the covers, and she lays on his chest. And maybe he puts his arm around her, you know, because it's more comfortable that way.

She yawns again and her eyelids flutter closed. He knows she's halfway to sleep so when he hears her drowsily whisper, very softly, "I wish you didn't stop kissing me last week," his heart legit stops.

"Wh-what?" The only answer he hears is a sigh and just like that, she's off to sleep. He starts playing with the ends of her hair and listening to her even breath as the deep drunk sleep overtakes her.

He knows she's asleep. He knows she's not going to answer, but he asks it anyway, maybe more for himself than anything. "I didn't want to stop, Rach, I...didn't," He whispers. "Why does it always have to be Finn? Why is it never..." he trails off.

He waits ten more minutes and gently releases his arm from around her and slowly eases up off the bed. He rearranges the covers onto her, and kisses her forehead before he turns to go downstairs and start the walk back home.

She won't remember this in the morning.

He's fooling himself if he thinks he won't, either.

But he'll try.

He always tries.