Music of the Night, Glee, Rachel/Quinn, R
Title: Music of the Night
Author: _dangerzone911 / meremortal2k5
Length: 6000+
Rating: Hard R
Spoilers: None really, but up to Britney/Brittany just to be sure.
Summary: That voice which calls to me and speaks my name, and do I dream again for now I find, the Phantom of the Opera is there inside my mind.
"C'mon Rachel, wait up!" Finn calls out, struggling to keep pace with Rachel who, in spite of her small stature and short legs, is powering across the McKinley High parking lot several feet ahead of him.
Rachel doesn't slow or offer any sort of acknowledgement that she's heard him.
He lets out a groan of frustration as he bends slightly to grab at the edge of his costume, drawing it up over his knees until he's able to move with more ease. He reaches Rachel as she nears the entrance of the gymnasium.
"Rachel, come on," he positions himself between Rachel and the door, blocking her way inside. Even now, standing in front of her, Rachel doesn't look at him, instead casting her eyes to the side, chin held up in defiance, just as she has done since he picked her up fifteen minutes ago. "It's not a big deal."
"Not a big deal?" Rachel huffs indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes travel scornfully over his costume; the one she hadn't chosen for him. "We were supposed to be the Phantom and Christine from the seminal musical hit Phantom of the Opera. Now what am I supposed to be without my Phantom, Finn? I look as though I could be a high class hooker in this costume now," Rachel holds out her arms so that Finn can see the effort she has put into replicating Emmy Rossum's costume from the movie - while she had wanted to go for the stage version of the costume, she felt, with the dozens of interpretations of both the role and the costume, it more fitting to go for the more universally recognizable costume.
Rachel's sheer dressing gown flares out as she opens her arms to reveal the white overbust style corset, that she had spent hours searching eBay for, and her flowing chantilly lace skirt. She tugs at the sleeves of her dressing gown as they slide along her arms before pulling the embellished lace ruffles of the collar and front opening closed.
Rachel tosses back her curled hair and pouts at her boyfriend. "Why, Finn? Could you not find a replica costume online? Or were you unable to find the materials necessary to make your own costume? If either were the case, you should have told me and I'm sure I would have found something suitable to create the costume with."
Finn lowers his eyes to the ground, muttering quietly within the confines of his mask.
"What did you say?" Rachel tilts her head to the side. "You're going to have to speak louder or at the very least remove the mask, in order for me to hear you."
"I wanted to look cool for Halloween," Finn speaks louder, choosing not to lift the mask in case Rachel decides to slap him or possibly scratch his eyes out. One can never tell with Rachel. "Dressing like that phantom dude would have been kinda...lame."
He knows immediately he's said the wrong thing as he watches Rachel square her shoulders and narrow her eyes.
"The Phantom is not lame!" Rachel shrieks as she moves forward causing Finn to stumble backwards until his back is against the door. "He is the Angel of Music, Finn!"
"That doesn't make him cool. It kinda makes him sound like a fairy," Finn argues, unable to stop himself from making the hole he's digging for himself any deeper than it already is.
"Your deeply insensitive homophobic slur aside," Rachel glowers. "He was a disfigured musical genius. He loved Christine so much that he threatened to blow up the Opera House with everyone in it, including himself and Christine, because he couldn't bear the thought of living without her. He only wanted to be with her and wanted to be with her forever, even in death. That's romantic, Finn."
"But does he cut out the organs of the people who can't pay for their transplants?"
"Well...no."
"Repo does and that makes him friggin' awesome. That phantom dude is just a creepy guy in a mask and a cape."
"There is nothing awesome, as you say, about a man who visciously removes people's organs due to unfortunate economic and financial woes while wearing a costume that looks like an amalgamation of a Nazi trench coat and the long overcoat of someone who slaughters defenseless animals in an abattoir. As a vegan, a Jew and an overall advocate for the prevention of acts of cruelty towards others, I am deeply offended by your choice of costume."
"Come on, Rachel, you're taking this thing way too seriously. We were supposed to dress up as characters from a musical. I did that. I'm Repo," Finn's rubber sleeves squeak as he crosses his arms over his chest. Parts of his costume had been found online in a speciality store and while he wasn't much into the full rubber masks or skin tight rubber catsuits on there, the long coat and rubber gloves had been perfect. All he needed after that was to shine up his dad's old military boots and get Puck's little sister to convert an old Darth Vader mask he'd found in his closet into the grimy surgical mask of Repo. "You know, from Repo! The Genetic Opera?"
"I'd hardly call that a musical," Rachel scoffs. Her distaste for the movie had been apparent from the moment Finn had suggested they watch it and handed her the DVD case before putting in the movie. "That film, and I'm deign to even refer to it as that, is nothing more than a glorified horror movie that happens to have singing in it."
"Just because you didn't like it, doesn't mean it's not a musical," Finn says sharply. When he sees Rachel take a deep breath, obviously preparing herself to continue the ridiculous argument he's found himself in, he sighs. "Look, whatever, why don't we just go inside and try to have a good time? Can we just do that?"
"Fine," Rachel huffs as she stomps past Finn and into the gym.
***
"I don't believe this relationship is working out the way either of us wanted it to, Finn," Rachel sighs.
After spending half an hour being effectively ignored by Finn, who ditched her as soon as they walked into the gym in favor of flirting with scantily clad Cheerios who seem to be impressed with and complimentary towards that monstrosity he calls a costume, Rachel has had enough.
"You're breaking up with me because I wouldn't wear that stupid phantom costume?"
"While I'll admit that it did hurt that you chose not to wear the costume that I asked you to, especially considering the amount of effort I put into creating my own costume for this occasion, there is much more to my decision to break up with you than that. You and I both know that," Rachel explains, tiredly.
"You're wrong, Rachel. This is because I didn't do what you wanted me to. You're always trying to control me."
"I do not."
"Yeah? What about when I wanted to join the football team again? You didn't want that to happen, did you?" Finn's voice raises with every word and it's only due to the volume of the music playing and the laughing and chattering of their classmates that keeps any attention from being drawn to them.
"I had many reasons, perfectly valid reasons, for not wanting you to join the team again, none of which I'm even going to bother discussing with you," Rachel says evenly.
"That's a load of crap, Rachel! I'm your boyfriend, you're supposed to talk about things with me."
"I've tried, Finn! The only time you have any interest in us actually talking is when you're going through a difficult time or feeling uncharacteristically bad about yourself. When I try telling you how I feel or even simply try to engage you in small talk, you either don't listen or blatantly ignore me. There are times you've even outright fallen asleep while I was talking."
Finn has the decency to at least look mildly ashamed by Rachel's accusations. But it's not his fault that Rachel sometimes uses words that he doesn't understand or that she tries to talk to him when he's dead tired from spending hours playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 with Puck.
"So, that's it? You're just going to break up with me? You're not gonna give me a chance to make it up to you?"
"I've given you many chances, Finn. You've disappointed me more and more with every chance given," Rachel shakes her head, her lips upturning into a small, sad smile. "You're a great leading man, Finn. We work well together in Glee; we're complementary of each other. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for our romantic relationship. As a couple, we tend to bring out all of the worst qualities in each other and I think it's time we both realized we simply aren't meant for to be."
"Whatever," Finn turns to walk away. But before he walks any further, he pauses and looks back at her. "Just remember, you did this. You broke up with me. I was happy with you, even though you talk too much and are always rambling about stupid Broadway crap. And now, just because I wouldn't wear that stupid costume, you're being all over-dramatic about everything and breaking up with me. This is all your fault."
Rachel's eyes widen at Finn's words. He stalks off - as much as one could stalk off in that costume - before she has the chance to say anything in response.
She stays rooted in place staring blankly in the direction of Finn's retreating back. But she only stays that way for a few minutes before she turns on her heels and storms off in the opposite direction.
***
Rachel hovers near the snack table, fidgeting with the sleeves of her dressing gown in an effort to distract herself from turning around and sending glares Finn's way.
She wanted things to work out with Finn, she really did. But there had been far too many times in which he had chosen his popularity over her. Far too many times in which he didn't stand up for her when he should have. Far too many times in which his compliments sounded more like insults. Far too many times in which she had forgiven him.
What's worse is knowing that come Monday, everyone will look at Finn as the victim. They'll stand by his side and pat him on his shoulder, telling him he could do better than the "troll-ish diva", that dating her had been a mistake. All while muttering unflattering names about her and giving her dirty looks.
"May I pour you some punch?"
A low voice from nearby startles her from her thoughts. While the voice is gentle and polite, she's still too upset with Finn to be bothered by anyone at the moment. "No, thank you."
"Are you sure I can't persuade you?"
Rachel takes a deep breath, not wanting her anger towards Finn to cause her to be rude to someone else. As she turns to offer a firmer declination, she freezes when her eyes take in the sight before her.
Her Phantom.
Well, not actually her Phantom - her would-be Phantom is dressed like something closely resembling or related to a butcher, she thinks bitterly - but a Phantom nonetheless.
He looks at her through light brown eyes. His gaze seems intense, but Rachel doesn't know if that is because part of his face is covered by the synonymous half mask that supposedly hides horrific scars or if it's something else altogether.
Dark hair is slicked back, just touching the collar of what looks to be a white silk dress shirt. The fitted opera tuxedo and cape he wears look perfect and very expensive. Though the cut of the high waist black pants and tailcoat wouldn't suit everyone, on this young man, he looks almost Fred Astaire-ish.
Long fingers encased in dark cotton touch at the ruffles of his white cravat in an almost nervous gesture before smoothing out the rich burgundy napoleon waistcoat. He moves his hands behind his back, straightening his stance as he looks down at her with a small, gracious smile.
This is what she had hoped to see when she climbed into the car earlier in the evening with Finn. A man detailed and polished. Debonair and handsome. Not a man straight out of a horror flick.
"May I?" he gestures to the punch bowl, never taking his eyes off of Rachel.
For once in her life, Rachel is speechless. Words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can't seem to form them, no matter how hard she tries. All she can manage is a weak nod.
His small smile grows, revealing the barest hint of teeth and Rachel feels her cheeks warm under the dim lights of the gym.
As he pours her a glass of punch, she studies the mask covering the right-side of his face. She can easily tell it's not a cheap plastic mask like the ones commonly found hanging on the walls of dime-store costume shops, but one made of more expensive material. It impresses her, the dedication and effort he's put into recreating every aspect of the costume.
She frowns for a moment, wondering why Finn couldn't have done the same. But she pushes those thoughts aside as the Phantom turns, offering her the punch with a black-gloved hand.
"T-Thank you," she stutters as her fingertips brush over the soft fabric covering the Phantom's hand when she takes the cup.
"My pleasure," he says with a slight dip of his head.
Her cheeks flush once more at the way the word pleasure rolls off his tongue and the intense, but somehow gentle, way he looks down at her. No one's ever looked at her in that way - not Finn, not Jesse, and certainly not Noah.
It makes her heart thud heavily in her chest.
She averts her gaze from his as she lifts the cup to her mouth, taking a sip of punch to soothe the sudden dryness of her mouth.
The air shifts around her and she feels, rather than sees, him move a couple steps closer. When Rachel looks up at him, she sees a small smirk playing on his lips.
"What?"
She breathes in deeply when he raises his hand, molding his fingers and palm against her jaw as he gently runs his thumb over her top lip, the soft fabric of his glove tickling her skin. It's takes everything within her not to close her eyes.
"You had some punch on your lip," he explains, and as his hand slowly slides away from her face, she shivers imperceptibly.
"Oh," Rachel utters softly. She quietly clears her throat, trying to regain some of the composure she seems to have lost since being in his presence. "Please forgive my rudeness. I'm usually quite adept in my practice of appropriate social etiquette and decorum, but I seem to have forgotten to ask for your name."
Since he appeared before her and first spoke, she's been trying to put a name and a face to the man behind the mask. So far, whether it it's from the darkness of the gym or the fact that he makes her so nervous that she seems incapable of forming a coherent train of thought, she's been unable to succeed in her efforts.
"You already know my name."
Does she? She doesn't think so. At least, as far as she remembers. But he almost makes her forget her own name, so it wouldn't surprise her if she somehow knew his but had forgotten it.
She knows her face betrays her confusion as his brow raises and his lips twitch into a knowing smile.
"Erik."
A wide, brilliant smile spreads over Rachel's face at his response. "I guess I did, indeed, already know it."
Rachel's heart begins to thud heavily once more as he returns the smile in full, this time revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. His smile is so beautiful and breath-taking that her stomach becomes a fluttery mess and goosebumps rise up all over her arms.
He lifts his gaze from her eyes, glancing past her for a brief moment before looking back down at her.
"Come with me?" he requests softly, extending his gloved hand, palm up, towards her.
Rachel hesitantly eyes the hand held up between them. She doesn't know who this man is - well, she knows who he's portraying, but doesn't know his actual identity - nor does she know anything about him. But there's something inviting and exciting and comforting about him. For reasons she can't begin to explain, she trusts him, feels safe with him.
The rape whistle she carefully hides on her person whenever she leaves home is unnecessary, and thus forgotten as she slips her hand into his, allowing him to lace his fingers in between hers as he gently leads her out of the gym.
***
He's quiet as they walk through the halls of McKinley High, but Rachel, despite her habitual need to fill silent voids, isn't bothered by it. Her mind is too focused on other things. Like the way he holds her hand, firmly, yet gently close to his side. Or the way, every now and then, he glances at her from the corner of his eye and his lips subtly quirk up.
When they reach the door that leads to the auditorium, he releases her hand as he steps forward pushing the door open. He leans against the door to prop it open as he bows his head, sweeping his arm out to gesture towards the inside of the auditorium.
Rachel clasps her hands in front of her as she walks past him and into the room where so much of her time has been spent since joining glee club. The door closes with a quiet thud and shortly after, she feels the comforting weight of his hand pressing against the small of her back.
Soon, he's guiding her up the steps and on to the stage before she even realizes that they have moved. When they come to a stop, she finds herself center-stage under pale blue lights, reminding her of moon-lit winter nights, with him standing by her side.
Rachel peers up her Phantom - he may not actually be hers or even be the Phantom she intended on being with tonight, but this is the Phantom of her dreams - waiting for him to speak. Fingers curl gently around her wrist as he takes a step closer, leaving mere inches between them.
"Sing for me?" he tilts his head, hopeful, as he makes his request.
"I-I don't know. I haven't had time to prepare a song or do a run-through of vocal exercises to properly warm up my voice," Rachel responds, nervously. Considering the many times she's had to step up and sing something on the fly in order to give her team a shot at winning a competition or simply to motivate them for an assignment, she's not sure why suddenly the prospect of singing for him is causing her nerves to get the best of her. "I'm afraid my singing wouldn't be up to par at this present moment."
He moves forward minutely until Rachel can feel the warmth radiating from his body even through layers of clothing. When he lowers his head down towards her, she unconsciously wets her lips and closes her eyes.
"Sing for me, Christine," he whispers, sending shivers down her spine as his breath washes over her ear.
The Phantom takes a couple steps back as Rachel opens her eyes.
Though she's talented and her voice exceptional, it's rare that someone - other than her fathers - actually asks her to sing. The other members of glee would prefer if she kept quiet, only contributing when they feel she's needed. But here she stands, her Phantom asking her to sing, wanting her to sing, and more than anything she wants to sing for him. Wants to sing for a captive audience. Wants to impress him with her voice.
With a shaky exhalation, Rachel allows herself to slip fully into the role of Christine Daae and begins to sing.
"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye."
She chooses the song not only for the fact that it suits her voice, but also because she finds some of the lyrics fitting for this moment. The night will end, and so will the fantasy, but she hopes her Phantom won't forget her as she knows she won't be forgetting him or the almost magical evening they've shared.
While she sings her eyes gravitate towards the Phantom. He's watching her openly, unabashedly, with awe in his eyes. And like has happened many times tonight, she flushes under his gaze and turns her head away from him. With her focus now on the empty seats ahead of her and the sound of her voice echoing throughout the auditorium, she neither sees nor hears the Phantom as he crosses the short distance between them.
Her voice falters only slightly when hands come to rest on her hips. Somehow she manages to continue on with the song even as the Phantom gently pulls her back until she's pressed flush against his chest. When she feels her hair being swept away and the press of soft lips against her neck, she begins to stumble more noticeably over the words.
As the Phantom's trail of feather-soft kisses spread from the base of her neck to her jaw-line, the words she's been trying so hard to remember die on her lips while a quiet gasp takes their place. Soft lips press just below her ear and Rachel’s gasp turns into a barely perceptible moan, but she knows that he’s heard her because the hands resting back on her hips give a reflexive squeeze.
She swipes her tongue over her lips and turns within her Phantom’s arms. Reaching up, she cups the side of his face and blinks as she releases a shaky breath. He is so beautiful. Pulling gently, Rachel encourages him to meet her lips with his own.
Their kiss is slow; an amalgamation of lips and tongue so sensual that Rachel thinks that she has never before experienced a kiss so erotic. She breaks the kiss after too short a moment but doesn’t move far from his lips as she tries to calm her somewhat erratic breathing. Her years of vocal training normally allows her to prolong her kisses for both hers and her partner’s enjoyment, but Erik has her breathless.
He looks at her and his eyes sparkle. Rachel smiles tentatively before she looks out over the auditorium. Anyone could walk in and see her kissing this boy. She takes his hand, pressing her lips to the black cotton covering his palm before guiding him towards the privacy of backstage.
As they reach a secluded area where some of the props are kept, Rachel pulls her Phantom into her. “I’m not normally this forward with boys.” She looks up at him and notices the quickly hidden arch of his dark brow. She frowns slightly, but tugs him closer anyway. “And, I certainly wouldn’t be doing this if I were in a relationship, which I’m not, not anymore.” She watches as her Phantom’s mouth quirks into a seductive smile. Who is she kidding? She would most definitely still be here, even if she were with Finn. This is her Phantom after all.
He dips forward, pressing his lips to Rachel’s in a hungry kiss. She stops talking and immediately kisses him back, opening her mouth, letting him in. His hands once more grab for her hips as Rachel’s hands slide up his arms and over his shoulders. He pulls away as fingers reach his neck, ghosting over the sensitive skin and heading towards his dark hair. He takes her hands in his and presses kisses to her knuckles before pulling them around his slender waist.
She pouts at him. She wants to run her fingers through his gloriously thick hair, wants to tug at it, but he just smiles before kissing her again, and her mind goes back to that exhilarating place where all she can feel and taste and smell, is him.
He presses into her and Rachel gasps. He pushes them both backwards until the petite girl bumps into a table and then he lifts her. The Phantom bends slightly as he curls his hands under her ass and lifts her onto the edge of the table.
Rachel swallows thickly, but takes his lead as he steps into the space he’s made by easing her thighs apart. She feels him then as his lips kiss across her jaw and down her neck; he is hard against her. She buries her face in his shoulder, trying to clear the haze that her mind has become, trying to think past wanting him so badly that she aches. Rachel has never felt like this, not with anyone. The want is so powerful, so hard to resist.
“Rachel?” He breathes into her neck and feels Rachel gasp at her name. He is curious to know where her thoughts have gone because she is currently bunching and releasing the material of his tuxedo coat between her clasping hands. "We can stop if you want."
Rachel swallows hard and shakes her head, feeling the tickles of his hair against her face. "No." They're only making out. It doesn't need to go any further, not if she doesn't want it to, but Rachel is thinking that maybe she does want it to go further. She wants this Phantom more than she ever wanted who her Phantom was supposed to be. She wants him, and it's obvious from the bulge in his pants that he wants her too.
Rachel chews at her lip as she lifts her face so that she can see the concern in his eyes. "I don't want to stop." She releases her grip on his coat and raises one hand to stroke his smooth jaw and soft bottom lip. Finn never felt so silky under her fingers, and Rachel thinks that this boy must take much more pride in his appearance and goes so far as to use skin care products. A sliver of guilt runs through her at once again putting down her ex-boyfriend. It isn't fair on him; he is a nice guy most of the time. She blinks away thoughts of Finn Hudson and focuses solely on the handsome boy standing between her legs. She pulls him to her as she surges up, pressing their lips together.
Rachel smoothes her hands over his chest and down to his waist, she grabs his hips and pulls him hard against her, moaning at the nudge to her core. Her Phantom tears his mouth away from hers and blinks rapidly at her moan. He looks down between them and back up and Rachel swears that she see’s a faint blush tint his high cheek bones. She stares for a moment, taking in her beautiful Erik before she smiles knowingly at him, more than a little nervous that she was rushing into something that he wasn’t ready for, not then and there at least. “Do you want to stop?” She has to ask.
He shakes his head.
“Me neither,” Rachel smirks and then shudders at the almost predatory smile that lifts the corners of her Phantom’s lips.
“Good,” he breathes as he dips forward to kiss her again.
Rachel feels his hands at her waist, moving over her hips and under the shear fabric of her dressing gown. Her breath hitches as his fingers grip at her backside, pulling her impossibly closer to him, before smoothing out over her thighs, encouraging her legs to wrap around his hips. He bumps into her again and Rachel shudders.
His fingers lift the lace of her skirt, sliding it up her thighs, bunching it as he continues to kiss her hungrily. “Up.” He tugs at the waist band of her panties, letting Rachel know that he wants to take off her cotton briefs. She loops her arms around his shoulders and lifts her ass so that he could pull down her underwear. She watches him frown then, realising that Rachel would have to lower her legs from around him and he would have to step away from her in order to remove them fully.
He grunts and Rachel giggles. “Patience is a virtue, Erik.” She really can’t help teasing him. He just seems so upset that he has to move away from her.
He scowls, but no sooner as he is gone to remove the offending article of clothing, the warmth of him presses against her once more. His lips are on hers as he ghosts his fingertips over her thighs, hips and stomach, moving higher until he palms her breasts as best as he can through the thick material of the corset. He sucks at her lips and tongue as Rachel grinds into his pelvis, needing him, holding onto him.
She feels one hand move from her bosom as his mouth descends onto the top swell of her breasts that are peeking above the tight corset. She feels his hand squeeze between their bodies and she hears the pull of a zipper cut through their heavy pants and soft moans. “Condom.” She lets her head drop back as she tries to pull in much needed air.
“Damn it,” he pants as he withdraws his hand from his crotch and fumbles in his pants pocket before pulling out the foil square. Keeping Rachel close, he bites at the fingertips of his gloves and pulls them off one at a time, letting the dark material drop to the floor.
“I can do it.” Rachel’s dark eyes are on his as she offers to put the condom on for him. She can see his eyes darken at the offer, see the hunger in his eyes, but he still shakes his head.
He presses kisses to Rachel’s lips, over and over as he tears the foil and pulls out the ring of latex. His kisses become more ardent as he pushes his pants and boxers down and over his hips.
Rachel wants to see but he is already at her entrance, rubbing the tip of his shaft between her swollen lips, and all of her thoughts focus on his face, on warm light brown eyes and a bottom lip caught between sharp teeth. She rolls her hips as she watches him. He slips inside of her and she gasps, her nails digging into the sleeves of his suit jacket.
He pushes her back slightly until she’s supporting herself with one hand pressing against the desk that she’s sitting on. He follows her, leaning over her, but helping to support her weight with an arm wrapped around her waist. He thrusts slowly, taking his time to push all the way in and pull almost all the way back out. He watches her face as her brows crease in concentration. His thrusts quicken and her hips tilt up, meeting him every time.
Rachel takes in sharp breaths through her slightly parted lips. He is watching her but she is also watching him. Her Phantom. His face is flushed and damp with perspiration and she really wants to rip the half mask from his face. The almost overwhelming urge to see him forces her to bury her face in his neck. Distracting herself, she tastes the sweet smelling skin above his collar, nipping at the tender flesh and soothing it with her tongue.
She pushes harder against him, feeling him so deep inside. “Faster.” She gasps against his throat. She feels the need for more, even as he quickens his thrusts. Rachel whimpers in relief as fingers move between them again. Her stomach tightens when his thumb brushes against her clit before pressing down, circling roughly around the slick bud.
Her climax builds quickly inside of her and with one last swipe of his thumb; she is coming apart around him. She bites down on her lip to stifle the cry that would be too loud in this quiet place. She grabs onto him, pulling him fully against her as she shudders her release.
He jerks against her and grunts lowly into her ear as he comes. But all too quickly, he’s pulling out and tucking himself away.
Rachel looks up at him and chews on her lip thoughtfully. The Phantom's eyes are downcast as he zips and buttons his pants. "Quinn."
Hands cease in their efforts to smooth out wrinkled fabric as the Phantom's head slowly rises. The silence in the auditorium is almost deafening as the two lovers stare at one another.
Rachel stands from the desk, never breaking eye contact as she raises her hand up until her fingers touch the white mask. She feels sharp puffs of air paint over her skin as her fingertips trace along the curve of the mask before dropping her hand away. "Take off the mask."
For a moment, Rachel thinks she's asked for too much as her lover remains stock still. But then, pale hands finally rise up and slowly pull the mask away.
"How did you know?" Quinn asks almost timidly, no longer trying to keep her voice low and masculine as she pulls off the jet-black wig and ruffles her fingers through her hair until it falls around her shoulders.
"It wasn't just one thing, Quinn. Your costume, your disguise, it was excellent. Almost perfect in every way. You really were... are a truly amazing Phantom," Rachel bites down on her lip briefly. "But we have class together and Glee. I've seen your eyes millions of times and even if I didn't see you right away, I knew there was something familiar about them. Then, you wouldn't let me touch your hair and your skin was so soft, nothing at all like the boys that I've touched before. And then the way you blush, I've seen it countless times whenever Santana or Brittany or even Noah says something remotely risque. I know you, Quinn."
Quinn nods. Though she had tried her best to conceal her identity, she should have known if anyone were to be able to see past the make-up and costume and the mask it would be Rachel. But she smiles to herself at the knowledge that Rachel seems pleased by her efforts.
Rachel reaches up brushing errant strands of hair from Quinn's face, taking a moment to marvel at how beautiful the blonde is. Quinn shivers slightly as Rachel brushes the back of her hand over her cheek. Rachel's hand moves to the back of Quinn's neck and she pulls the blonde down to her as she tilts her own head up to kiss the other girl.
"Quinn?" Rachel murmurs, as she pulls away from Quinn, noting the way the blonde frowns at the loss of contact.
"Yeah?"
"How did you know I would be attending as Christine? I could just as easily have gone as Evita or Fanny Brice," Rachel asks, curiously. It's the one thing she has been unable to figure out since realizing Quinn was the man behind the mask, so to speak.
"The gossip queens," Quinn replies. When Rachel's brows knit in confusion, she continues. "I was hanging out with Kurt and Mercedes, and Kurt was telling her how he had overheard Finn telling Puck that you wanted him to dress as the Phantom, but that there was no way in hell that he was going to do it."
Rachel bristles slightly at the mention of her ex-boyfriend, but smiles at the realization of what Quinn did for her. "Is that when you decided you would be my Phantom?"
"Yeah," Quinn's cheeks flush brightly at the smile Rachel gives her. "Did... did I do okay?"
Rachel presses an open-mouth kiss to the hollow of Quinn's neck before answering. "You were a much better Phantom than Finn could have ever been."
"I could be a much better boyfriend, too," Quinn sighs breathlessly as Rachel nips at her neck.
"Is that an invitation?" Rachel asks, leaning back to look into Quinn's eyes, searching for any sign that Quinn may be joking.
Quinn looks at her nervously for a moment before arching her brow and smiling. "What if it is?"
"If it is," Rachel pauses, watching as Quinn's smile wavers ever so slightly, then continues. "Then I accept."
Quinn cups Rachel's face gently in her hands as leans down, placing a soft, chaste kiss on her lips. "Really?"
Rachel nods. “Really, Quinn, if you’ll have me as your girlfriend that is?”
“I’ll have you, Rachel,” she blushes as she thinks over what happened between her and Rachel only minutes before. “Does this mean that you’d like to go out on a date with me?”
Rachel snorts. “After what just happened, I think that that would be appropriate. Now, why don’t you take me back to the party so that Christine can dance with her Phantom?”
“I think I’d like that,” Quinn smiles before she slips the mask back into place. “Do you mind if I leave the wig off? It kind of itches like a bitch.”
“Not at all,” Rachel returns the smile. “I think that I prefer my Phantom as a blonde.”
Author: _dangerzone911 / meremortal2k5
Length: 6000+
Rating: Hard R
Spoilers: None really, but up to Britney/Brittany just to be sure.
Summary: That voice which calls to me and speaks my name, and do I dream again for now I find, the Phantom of the Opera is there inside my mind.
"C'mon Rachel, wait up!" Finn calls out, struggling to keep pace with Rachel who, in spite of her small stature and short legs, is powering across the McKinley High parking lot several feet ahead of him.
Rachel doesn't slow or offer any sort of acknowledgement that she's heard him.
He lets out a groan of frustration as he bends slightly to grab at the edge of his costume, drawing it up over his knees until he's able to move with more ease. He reaches Rachel as she nears the entrance of the gymnasium.
"Rachel, come on," he positions himself between Rachel and the door, blocking her way inside. Even now, standing in front of her, Rachel doesn't look at him, instead casting her eyes to the side, chin held up in defiance, just as she has done since he picked her up fifteen minutes ago. "It's not a big deal."
"Not a big deal?" Rachel huffs indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes travel scornfully over his costume; the one she hadn't chosen for him. "We were supposed to be the Phantom and Christine from the seminal musical hit Phantom of the Opera. Now what am I supposed to be without my Phantom, Finn? I look as though I could be a high class hooker in this costume now," Rachel holds out her arms so that Finn can see the effort she has put into replicating Emmy Rossum's costume from the movie - while she had wanted to go for the stage version of the costume, she felt, with the dozens of interpretations of both the role and the costume, it more fitting to go for the more universally recognizable costume.
Rachel's sheer dressing gown flares out as she opens her arms to reveal the white overbust style corset, that she had spent hours searching eBay for, and her flowing chantilly lace skirt. She tugs at the sleeves of her dressing gown as they slide along her arms before pulling the embellished lace ruffles of the collar and front opening closed.
Rachel tosses back her curled hair and pouts at her boyfriend. "Why, Finn? Could you not find a replica costume online? Or were you unable to find the materials necessary to make your own costume? If either were the case, you should have told me and I'm sure I would have found something suitable to create the costume with."
Finn lowers his eyes to the ground, muttering quietly within the confines of his mask.
"What did you say?" Rachel tilts her head to the side. "You're going to have to speak louder or at the very least remove the mask, in order for me to hear you."
"I wanted to look cool for Halloween," Finn speaks louder, choosing not to lift the mask in case Rachel decides to slap him or possibly scratch his eyes out. One can never tell with Rachel. "Dressing like that phantom dude would have been kinda...lame."
He knows immediately he's said the wrong thing as he watches Rachel square her shoulders and narrow her eyes.
"The Phantom is not lame!" Rachel shrieks as she moves forward causing Finn to stumble backwards until his back is against the door. "He is the Angel of Music, Finn!"
"That doesn't make him cool. It kinda makes him sound like a fairy," Finn argues, unable to stop himself from making the hole he's digging for himself any deeper than it already is.
"Your deeply insensitive homophobic slur aside," Rachel glowers. "He was a disfigured musical genius. He loved Christine so much that he threatened to blow up the Opera House with everyone in it, including himself and Christine, because he couldn't bear the thought of living without her. He only wanted to be with her and wanted to be with her forever, even in death. That's romantic, Finn."
"But does he cut out the organs of the people who can't pay for their transplants?"
"Well...no."
"Repo does and that makes him friggin' awesome. That phantom dude is just a creepy guy in a mask and a cape."
"There is nothing awesome, as you say, about a man who visciously removes people's organs due to unfortunate economic and financial woes while wearing a costume that looks like an amalgamation of a Nazi trench coat and the long overcoat of someone who slaughters defenseless animals in an abattoir. As a vegan, a Jew and an overall advocate for the prevention of acts of cruelty towards others, I am deeply offended by your choice of costume."
"Come on, Rachel, you're taking this thing way too seriously. We were supposed to dress up as characters from a musical. I did that. I'm Repo," Finn's rubber sleeves squeak as he crosses his arms over his chest. Parts of his costume had been found online in a speciality store and while he wasn't much into the full rubber masks or skin tight rubber catsuits on there, the long coat and rubber gloves had been perfect. All he needed after that was to shine up his dad's old military boots and get Puck's little sister to convert an old Darth Vader mask he'd found in his closet into the grimy surgical mask of Repo. "You know, from Repo! The Genetic Opera?"
"I'd hardly call that a musical," Rachel scoffs. Her distaste for the movie had been apparent from the moment Finn had suggested they watch it and handed her the DVD case before putting in the movie. "That film, and I'm deign to even refer to it as that, is nothing more than a glorified horror movie that happens to have singing in it."
"Just because you didn't like it, doesn't mean it's not a musical," Finn says sharply. When he sees Rachel take a deep breath, obviously preparing herself to continue the ridiculous argument he's found himself in, he sighs. "Look, whatever, why don't we just go inside and try to have a good time? Can we just do that?"
"Fine," Rachel huffs as she stomps past Finn and into the gym.
***
"I don't believe this relationship is working out the way either of us wanted it to, Finn," Rachel sighs.
After spending half an hour being effectively ignored by Finn, who ditched her as soon as they walked into the gym in favor of flirting with scantily clad Cheerios who seem to be impressed with and complimentary towards that monstrosity he calls a costume, Rachel has had enough.
"You're breaking up with me because I wouldn't wear that stupid phantom costume?"
"While I'll admit that it did hurt that you chose not to wear the costume that I asked you to, especially considering the amount of effort I put into creating my own costume for this occasion, there is much more to my decision to break up with you than that. You and I both know that," Rachel explains, tiredly.
"You're wrong, Rachel. This is because I didn't do what you wanted me to. You're always trying to control me."
"I do not."
"Yeah? What about when I wanted to join the football team again? You didn't want that to happen, did you?" Finn's voice raises with every word and it's only due to the volume of the music playing and the laughing and chattering of their classmates that keeps any attention from being drawn to them.
"I had many reasons, perfectly valid reasons, for not wanting you to join the team again, none of which I'm even going to bother discussing with you," Rachel says evenly.
"That's a load of crap, Rachel! I'm your boyfriend, you're supposed to talk about things with me."
"I've tried, Finn! The only time you have any interest in us actually talking is when you're going through a difficult time or feeling uncharacteristically bad about yourself. When I try telling you how I feel or even simply try to engage you in small talk, you either don't listen or blatantly ignore me. There are times you've even outright fallen asleep while I was talking."
Finn has the decency to at least look mildly ashamed by Rachel's accusations. But it's not his fault that Rachel sometimes uses words that he doesn't understand or that she tries to talk to him when he's dead tired from spending hours playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 with Puck.
"So, that's it? You're just going to break up with me? You're not gonna give me a chance to make it up to you?"
"I've given you many chances, Finn. You've disappointed me more and more with every chance given," Rachel shakes her head, her lips upturning into a small, sad smile. "You're a great leading man, Finn. We work well together in Glee; we're complementary of each other. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for our romantic relationship. As a couple, we tend to bring out all of the worst qualities in each other and I think it's time we both realized we simply aren't meant for to be."
"Whatever," Finn turns to walk away. But before he walks any further, he pauses and looks back at her. "Just remember, you did this. You broke up with me. I was happy with you, even though you talk too much and are always rambling about stupid Broadway crap. And now, just because I wouldn't wear that stupid costume, you're being all over-dramatic about everything and breaking up with me. This is all your fault."
Rachel's eyes widen at Finn's words. He stalks off - as much as one could stalk off in that costume - before she has the chance to say anything in response.
She stays rooted in place staring blankly in the direction of Finn's retreating back. But she only stays that way for a few minutes before she turns on her heels and storms off in the opposite direction.
***
Rachel hovers near the snack table, fidgeting with the sleeves of her dressing gown in an effort to distract herself from turning around and sending glares Finn's way.
She wanted things to work out with Finn, she really did. But there had been far too many times in which he had chosen his popularity over her. Far too many times in which he didn't stand up for her when he should have. Far too many times in which his compliments sounded more like insults. Far too many times in which she had forgiven him.
What's worse is knowing that come Monday, everyone will look at Finn as the victim. They'll stand by his side and pat him on his shoulder, telling him he could do better than the "troll-ish diva", that dating her had been a mistake. All while muttering unflattering names about her and giving her dirty looks.
"May I pour you some punch?"
A low voice from nearby startles her from her thoughts. While the voice is gentle and polite, she's still too upset with Finn to be bothered by anyone at the moment. "No, thank you."
"Are you sure I can't persuade you?"
Rachel takes a deep breath, not wanting her anger towards Finn to cause her to be rude to someone else. As she turns to offer a firmer declination, she freezes when her eyes take in the sight before her.
Her Phantom.
Well, not actually her Phantom - her would-be Phantom is dressed like something closely resembling or related to a butcher, she thinks bitterly - but a Phantom nonetheless.
He looks at her through light brown eyes. His gaze seems intense, but Rachel doesn't know if that is because part of his face is covered by the synonymous half mask that supposedly hides horrific scars or if it's something else altogether.
Dark hair is slicked back, just touching the collar of what looks to be a white silk dress shirt. The fitted opera tuxedo and cape he wears look perfect and very expensive. Though the cut of the high waist black pants and tailcoat wouldn't suit everyone, on this young man, he looks almost Fred Astaire-ish.
Long fingers encased in dark cotton touch at the ruffles of his white cravat in an almost nervous gesture before smoothing out the rich burgundy napoleon waistcoat. He moves his hands behind his back, straightening his stance as he looks down at her with a small, gracious smile.
This is what she had hoped to see when she climbed into the car earlier in the evening with Finn. A man detailed and polished. Debonair and handsome. Not a man straight out of a horror flick.
"May I?" he gestures to the punch bowl, never taking his eyes off of Rachel.
For once in her life, Rachel is speechless. Words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can't seem to form them, no matter how hard she tries. All she can manage is a weak nod.
His small smile grows, revealing the barest hint of teeth and Rachel feels her cheeks warm under the dim lights of the gym.
As he pours her a glass of punch, she studies the mask covering the right-side of his face. She can easily tell it's not a cheap plastic mask like the ones commonly found hanging on the walls of dime-store costume shops, but one made of more expensive material. It impresses her, the dedication and effort he's put into recreating every aspect of the costume.
She frowns for a moment, wondering why Finn couldn't have done the same. But she pushes those thoughts aside as the Phantom turns, offering her the punch with a black-gloved hand.
"T-Thank you," she stutters as her fingertips brush over the soft fabric covering the Phantom's hand when she takes the cup.
"My pleasure," he says with a slight dip of his head.
Her cheeks flush once more at the way the word pleasure rolls off his tongue and the intense, but somehow gentle, way he looks down at her. No one's ever looked at her in that way - not Finn, not Jesse, and certainly not Noah.
It makes her heart thud heavily in her chest.
She averts her gaze from his as she lifts the cup to her mouth, taking a sip of punch to soothe the sudden dryness of her mouth.
The air shifts around her and she feels, rather than sees, him move a couple steps closer. When Rachel looks up at him, she sees a small smirk playing on his lips.
"What?"
She breathes in deeply when he raises his hand, molding his fingers and palm against her jaw as he gently runs his thumb over her top lip, the soft fabric of his glove tickling her skin. It's takes everything within her not to close her eyes.
"You had some punch on your lip," he explains, and as his hand slowly slides away from her face, she shivers imperceptibly.
"Oh," Rachel utters softly. She quietly clears her throat, trying to regain some of the composure she seems to have lost since being in his presence. "Please forgive my rudeness. I'm usually quite adept in my practice of appropriate social etiquette and decorum, but I seem to have forgotten to ask for your name."
Since he appeared before her and first spoke, she's been trying to put a name and a face to the man behind the mask. So far, whether it it's from the darkness of the gym or the fact that he makes her so nervous that she seems incapable of forming a coherent train of thought, she's been unable to succeed in her efforts.
"You already know my name."
Does she? She doesn't think so. At least, as far as she remembers. But he almost makes her forget her own name, so it wouldn't surprise her if she somehow knew his but had forgotten it.
She knows her face betrays her confusion as his brow raises and his lips twitch into a knowing smile.
"Erik."
A wide, brilliant smile spreads over Rachel's face at his response. "I guess I did, indeed, already know it."
Rachel's heart begins to thud heavily once more as he returns the smile in full, this time revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. His smile is so beautiful and breath-taking that her stomach becomes a fluttery mess and goosebumps rise up all over her arms.
He lifts his gaze from her eyes, glancing past her for a brief moment before looking back down at her.
"Come with me?" he requests softly, extending his gloved hand, palm up, towards her.
Rachel hesitantly eyes the hand held up between them. She doesn't know who this man is - well, she knows who he's portraying, but doesn't know his actual identity - nor does she know anything about him. But there's something inviting and exciting and comforting about him. For reasons she can't begin to explain, she trusts him, feels safe with him.
The rape whistle she carefully hides on her person whenever she leaves home is unnecessary, and thus forgotten as she slips her hand into his, allowing him to lace his fingers in between hers as he gently leads her out of the gym.
***
He's quiet as they walk through the halls of McKinley High, but Rachel, despite her habitual need to fill silent voids, isn't bothered by it. Her mind is too focused on other things. Like the way he holds her hand, firmly, yet gently close to his side. Or the way, every now and then, he glances at her from the corner of his eye and his lips subtly quirk up.
When they reach the door that leads to the auditorium, he releases her hand as he steps forward pushing the door open. He leans against the door to prop it open as he bows his head, sweeping his arm out to gesture towards the inside of the auditorium.
Rachel clasps her hands in front of her as she walks past him and into the room where so much of her time has been spent since joining glee club. The door closes with a quiet thud and shortly after, she feels the comforting weight of his hand pressing against the small of her back.
Soon, he's guiding her up the steps and on to the stage before she even realizes that they have moved. When they come to a stop, she finds herself center-stage under pale blue lights, reminding her of moon-lit winter nights, with him standing by her side.
Rachel peers up her Phantom - he may not actually be hers or even be the Phantom she intended on being with tonight, but this is the Phantom of her dreams - waiting for him to speak. Fingers curl gently around her wrist as he takes a step closer, leaving mere inches between them.
"Sing for me?" he tilts his head, hopeful, as he makes his request.
"I-I don't know. I haven't had time to prepare a song or do a run-through of vocal exercises to properly warm up my voice," Rachel responds, nervously. Considering the many times she's had to step up and sing something on the fly in order to give her team a shot at winning a competition or simply to motivate them for an assignment, she's not sure why suddenly the prospect of singing for him is causing her nerves to get the best of her. "I'm afraid my singing wouldn't be up to par at this present moment."
He moves forward minutely until Rachel can feel the warmth radiating from his body even through layers of clothing. When he lowers his head down towards her, she unconsciously wets her lips and closes her eyes.
"Sing for me, Christine," he whispers, sending shivers down her spine as his breath washes over her ear.
The Phantom takes a couple steps back as Rachel opens her eyes.
Though she's talented and her voice exceptional, it's rare that someone - other than her fathers - actually asks her to sing. The other members of glee would prefer if she kept quiet, only contributing when they feel she's needed. But here she stands, her Phantom asking her to sing, wanting her to sing, and more than anything she wants to sing for him. Wants to sing for a captive audience. Wants to impress him with her voice.
With a shaky exhalation, Rachel allows herself to slip fully into the role of Christine Daae and begins to sing.
"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye."
She chooses the song not only for the fact that it suits her voice, but also because she finds some of the lyrics fitting for this moment. The night will end, and so will the fantasy, but she hopes her Phantom won't forget her as she knows she won't be forgetting him or the almost magical evening they've shared.
While she sings her eyes gravitate towards the Phantom. He's watching her openly, unabashedly, with awe in his eyes. And like has happened many times tonight, she flushes under his gaze and turns her head away from him. With her focus now on the empty seats ahead of her and the sound of her voice echoing throughout the auditorium, she neither sees nor hears the Phantom as he crosses the short distance between them.
Her voice falters only slightly when hands come to rest on her hips. Somehow she manages to continue on with the song even as the Phantom gently pulls her back until she's pressed flush against his chest. When she feels her hair being swept away and the press of soft lips against her neck, she begins to stumble more noticeably over the words.
As the Phantom's trail of feather-soft kisses spread from the base of her neck to her jaw-line, the words she's been trying so hard to remember die on her lips while a quiet gasp takes their place. Soft lips press just below her ear and Rachel’s gasp turns into a barely perceptible moan, but she knows that he’s heard her because the hands resting back on her hips give a reflexive squeeze.
She swipes her tongue over her lips and turns within her Phantom’s arms. Reaching up, she cups the side of his face and blinks as she releases a shaky breath. He is so beautiful. Pulling gently, Rachel encourages him to meet her lips with his own.
Their kiss is slow; an amalgamation of lips and tongue so sensual that Rachel thinks that she has never before experienced a kiss so erotic. She breaks the kiss after too short a moment but doesn’t move far from his lips as she tries to calm her somewhat erratic breathing. Her years of vocal training normally allows her to prolong her kisses for both hers and her partner’s enjoyment, but Erik has her breathless.
He looks at her and his eyes sparkle. Rachel smiles tentatively before she looks out over the auditorium. Anyone could walk in and see her kissing this boy. She takes his hand, pressing her lips to the black cotton covering his palm before guiding him towards the privacy of backstage.
As they reach a secluded area where some of the props are kept, Rachel pulls her Phantom into her. “I’m not normally this forward with boys.” She looks up at him and notices the quickly hidden arch of his dark brow. She frowns slightly, but tugs him closer anyway. “And, I certainly wouldn’t be doing this if I were in a relationship, which I’m not, not anymore.” She watches as her Phantom’s mouth quirks into a seductive smile. Who is she kidding? She would most definitely still be here, even if she were with Finn. This is her Phantom after all.
He dips forward, pressing his lips to Rachel’s in a hungry kiss. She stops talking and immediately kisses him back, opening her mouth, letting him in. His hands once more grab for her hips as Rachel’s hands slide up his arms and over his shoulders. He pulls away as fingers reach his neck, ghosting over the sensitive skin and heading towards his dark hair. He takes her hands in his and presses kisses to her knuckles before pulling them around his slender waist.
She pouts at him. She wants to run her fingers through his gloriously thick hair, wants to tug at it, but he just smiles before kissing her again, and her mind goes back to that exhilarating place where all she can feel and taste and smell, is him.
He presses into her and Rachel gasps. He pushes them both backwards until the petite girl bumps into a table and then he lifts her. The Phantom bends slightly as he curls his hands under her ass and lifts her onto the edge of the table.
Rachel swallows thickly, but takes his lead as he steps into the space he’s made by easing her thighs apart. She feels him then as his lips kiss across her jaw and down her neck; he is hard against her. She buries her face in his shoulder, trying to clear the haze that her mind has become, trying to think past wanting him so badly that she aches. Rachel has never felt like this, not with anyone. The want is so powerful, so hard to resist.
“Rachel?” He breathes into her neck and feels Rachel gasp at her name. He is curious to know where her thoughts have gone because she is currently bunching and releasing the material of his tuxedo coat between her clasping hands. "We can stop if you want."
Rachel swallows hard and shakes her head, feeling the tickles of his hair against her face. "No." They're only making out. It doesn't need to go any further, not if she doesn't want it to, but Rachel is thinking that maybe she does want it to go further. She wants this Phantom more than she ever wanted who her Phantom was supposed to be. She wants him, and it's obvious from the bulge in his pants that he wants her too.
Rachel chews at her lip as she lifts her face so that she can see the concern in his eyes. "I don't want to stop." She releases her grip on his coat and raises one hand to stroke his smooth jaw and soft bottom lip. Finn never felt so silky under her fingers, and Rachel thinks that this boy must take much more pride in his appearance and goes so far as to use skin care products. A sliver of guilt runs through her at once again putting down her ex-boyfriend. It isn't fair on him; he is a nice guy most of the time. She blinks away thoughts of Finn Hudson and focuses solely on the handsome boy standing between her legs. She pulls him to her as she surges up, pressing their lips together.
Rachel smoothes her hands over his chest and down to his waist, she grabs his hips and pulls him hard against her, moaning at the nudge to her core. Her Phantom tears his mouth away from hers and blinks rapidly at her moan. He looks down between them and back up and Rachel swears that she see’s a faint blush tint his high cheek bones. She stares for a moment, taking in her beautiful Erik before she smiles knowingly at him, more than a little nervous that she was rushing into something that he wasn’t ready for, not then and there at least. “Do you want to stop?” She has to ask.
He shakes his head.
“Me neither,” Rachel smirks and then shudders at the almost predatory smile that lifts the corners of her Phantom’s lips.
“Good,” he breathes as he dips forward to kiss her again.
Rachel feels his hands at her waist, moving over her hips and under the shear fabric of her dressing gown. Her breath hitches as his fingers grip at her backside, pulling her impossibly closer to him, before smoothing out over her thighs, encouraging her legs to wrap around his hips. He bumps into her again and Rachel shudders.
His fingers lift the lace of her skirt, sliding it up her thighs, bunching it as he continues to kiss her hungrily. “Up.” He tugs at the waist band of her panties, letting Rachel know that he wants to take off her cotton briefs. She loops her arms around his shoulders and lifts her ass so that he could pull down her underwear. She watches him frown then, realising that Rachel would have to lower her legs from around him and he would have to step away from her in order to remove them fully.
He grunts and Rachel giggles. “Patience is a virtue, Erik.” She really can’t help teasing him. He just seems so upset that he has to move away from her.
He scowls, but no sooner as he is gone to remove the offending article of clothing, the warmth of him presses against her once more. His lips are on hers as he ghosts his fingertips over her thighs, hips and stomach, moving higher until he palms her breasts as best as he can through the thick material of the corset. He sucks at her lips and tongue as Rachel grinds into his pelvis, needing him, holding onto him.
She feels one hand move from her bosom as his mouth descends onto the top swell of her breasts that are peeking above the tight corset. She feels his hand squeeze between their bodies and she hears the pull of a zipper cut through their heavy pants and soft moans. “Condom.” She lets her head drop back as she tries to pull in much needed air.
“Damn it,” he pants as he withdraws his hand from his crotch and fumbles in his pants pocket before pulling out the foil square. Keeping Rachel close, he bites at the fingertips of his gloves and pulls them off one at a time, letting the dark material drop to the floor.
“I can do it.” Rachel’s dark eyes are on his as she offers to put the condom on for him. She can see his eyes darken at the offer, see the hunger in his eyes, but he still shakes his head.
He presses kisses to Rachel’s lips, over and over as he tears the foil and pulls out the ring of latex. His kisses become more ardent as he pushes his pants and boxers down and over his hips.
Rachel wants to see but he is already at her entrance, rubbing the tip of his shaft between her swollen lips, and all of her thoughts focus on his face, on warm light brown eyes and a bottom lip caught between sharp teeth. She rolls her hips as she watches him. He slips inside of her and she gasps, her nails digging into the sleeves of his suit jacket.
He pushes her back slightly until she’s supporting herself with one hand pressing against the desk that she’s sitting on. He follows her, leaning over her, but helping to support her weight with an arm wrapped around her waist. He thrusts slowly, taking his time to push all the way in and pull almost all the way back out. He watches her face as her brows crease in concentration. His thrusts quicken and her hips tilt up, meeting him every time.
Rachel takes in sharp breaths through her slightly parted lips. He is watching her but she is also watching him. Her Phantom. His face is flushed and damp with perspiration and she really wants to rip the half mask from his face. The almost overwhelming urge to see him forces her to bury her face in his neck. Distracting herself, she tastes the sweet smelling skin above his collar, nipping at the tender flesh and soothing it with her tongue.
She pushes harder against him, feeling him so deep inside. “Faster.” She gasps against his throat. She feels the need for more, even as he quickens his thrusts. Rachel whimpers in relief as fingers move between them again. Her stomach tightens when his thumb brushes against her clit before pressing down, circling roughly around the slick bud.
Her climax builds quickly inside of her and with one last swipe of his thumb; she is coming apart around him. She bites down on her lip to stifle the cry that would be too loud in this quiet place. She grabs onto him, pulling him fully against her as she shudders her release.
He jerks against her and grunts lowly into her ear as he comes. But all too quickly, he’s pulling out and tucking himself away.
Rachel looks up at him and chews on her lip thoughtfully. The Phantom's eyes are downcast as he zips and buttons his pants. "Quinn."
Hands cease in their efforts to smooth out wrinkled fabric as the Phantom's head slowly rises. The silence in the auditorium is almost deafening as the two lovers stare at one another.
Rachel stands from the desk, never breaking eye contact as she raises her hand up until her fingers touch the white mask. She feels sharp puffs of air paint over her skin as her fingertips trace along the curve of the mask before dropping her hand away. "Take off the mask."
For a moment, Rachel thinks she's asked for too much as her lover remains stock still. But then, pale hands finally rise up and slowly pull the mask away.
"How did you know?" Quinn asks almost timidly, no longer trying to keep her voice low and masculine as she pulls off the jet-black wig and ruffles her fingers through her hair until it falls around her shoulders.
"It wasn't just one thing, Quinn. Your costume, your disguise, it was excellent. Almost perfect in every way. You really were... are a truly amazing Phantom," Rachel bites down on her lip briefly. "But we have class together and Glee. I've seen your eyes millions of times and even if I didn't see you right away, I knew there was something familiar about them. Then, you wouldn't let me touch your hair and your skin was so soft, nothing at all like the boys that I've touched before. And then the way you blush, I've seen it countless times whenever Santana or Brittany or even Noah says something remotely risque. I know you, Quinn."
Quinn nods. Though she had tried her best to conceal her identity, she should have known if anyone were to be able to see past the make-up and costume and the mask it would be Rachel. But she smiles to herself at the knowledge that Rachel seems pleased by her efforts.
Rachel reaches up brushing errant strands of hair from Quinn's face, taking a moment to marvel at how beautiful the blonde is. Quinn shivers slightly as Rachel brushes the back of her hand over her cheek. Rachel's hand moves to the back of Quinn's neck and she pulls the blonde down to her as she tilts her own head up to kiss the other girl.
"Quinn?" Rachel murmurs, as she pulls away from Quinn, noting the way the blonde frowns at the loss of contact.
"Yeah?"
"How did you know I would be attending as Christine? I could just as easily have gone as Evita or Fanny Brice," Rachel asks, curiously. It's the one thing she has been unable to figure out since realizing Quinn was the man behind the mask, so to speak.
"The gossip queens," Quinn replies. When Rachel's brows knit in confusion, she continues. "I was hanging out with Kurt and Mercedes, and Kurt was telling her how he had overheard Finn telling Puck that you wanted him to dress as the Phantom, but that there was no way in hell that he was going to do it."
Rachel bristles slightly at the mention of her ex-boyfriend, but smiles at the realization of what Quinn did for her. "Is that when you decided you would be my Phantom?"
"Yeah," Quinn's cheeks flush brightly at the smile Rachel gives her. "Did... did I do okay?"
Rachel presses an open-mouth kiss to the hollow of Quinn's neck before answering. "You were a much better Phantom than Finn could have ever been."
"I could be a much better boyfriend, too," Quinn sighs breathlessly as Rachel nips at her neck.
"Is that an invitation?" Rachel asks, leaning back to look into Quinn's eyes, searching for any sign that Quinn may be joking.
Quinn looks at her nervously for a moment before arching her brow and smiling. "What if it is?"
"If it is," Rachel pauses, watching as Quinn's smile wavers ever so slightly, then continues. "Then I accept."
Quinn cups Rachel's face gently in her hands as leans down, placing a soft, chaste kiss on her lips. "Really?"
Rachel nods. “Really, Quinn, if you’ll have me as your girlfriend that is?”
“I’ll have you, Rachel,” she blushes as she thinks over what happened between her and Rachel only minutes before. “Does this mean that you’d like to go out on a date with me?”
Rachel snorts. “After what just happened, I think that that would be appropriate. Now, why don’t you take me back to the party so that Christine can dance with her Phantom?”
“I think I’d like that,” Quinn smiles before she slips the mask back into place. “Do you mind if I leave the wig off? It kind of itches like a bitch.”
“Not at all,” Rachel returns the smile. “I think that I prefer my Phantom as a blonde.”