Fic: Blacked Out Blur - 1/? (Santana/Quinn/Rachel)
Title: Blacked Out Blur (1/?)
Author: an_an0maly / prettylittlelea
Summary: It’s another Friday night, but not like one any of them have had before.
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Everything up to and including S3 is fair game, except Finchel aren't together.
Word Count: 9000+ (currently)
Disclaimer: I, sadly, own nothing.
Author’s Note: I know this has probably already been done, but I thought I’d have a crack at it anyway. Based on Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night (TGIF)".
1/? - The Morning After
11:47am Saturday
There was an incessant, rhythmic sawing noise reverberating off the walls of the small enclosed room. The sound registered in Rachel’s ears. It wasn’t enough to wake her, but the sound was distraction enough it caused her to snort and toss her head to the side. Her chin bumped against something soft and warm pressing into her shoulder. Her nose twitched as something tickled beneath her right nostril, but still, she did not stir. A groan from Rachel’s left, which was quickly followed by a choked cough, startled Rachel awake.
Bleary eyes blinked a few times attempting to focus. On instinct, Rachel attempted to rub at her tired eyes with her right hand, but quickly found it trapped. She tiredly tried tugging her arm from its unknown confinement - once, twice - but quickly gave in when it seemed to take too much effort. She let her eyes flutter closed, her head lolling to the left and away from the tickling sensation.
A crick in Rachel’s neck made itself known, causing her to whimper in pain. “Urgh…” she moaned softly in disgust, smacking her lips together, and feeling the fuzzy and disgusting coating on her tongue. Obviously she’d forgotten to brush her teeth the night before.
Suddenly, the sawing sound started up again, startling Rachel. Her left hand swiped at the object lying across her legs trying to shut it up. Her fingers brushed over a nose and a pair of lips before her hand began feeling its way to the top of her companion’s head. “Sh…” Rachel tiredly soothed with a slight shake of the person’s head.
“Ooow,” Rachel groaned loudly as flying hands began to slap at her body. On a well-placed downward slap, fingers slipped over her nipple and Rachel gasped as she felt the sensitive skin tighten, an ache settling between her legs. Rachel’s eyes snapped open at the sudden realization that the only way her nipple could react to such innocent stimulation, was through skin-on-skin contact. Sucking in a breath, Rachel glanced down and whimpered in fright.
~*~*~
2:47pm Friday - 21 Hours Earlier
Santana slammed her Cheerios duffle bag onto the bonnet of Quinn’s car before using the front bumper to hoist herself onto the vehicle to settle in beside Quinn. “Thank fucking God it’s Friday,” she complained rudely as she crossed her right leg over her left and glared at a passing Jewfro repeating a disgusting mantra of “Hubba Hubba”, his eyebrows wriggling in what she assumed was supposed to be alluring, but only made her want to rip out her own eyes - or his.
Quinn smirked as she turned her head briefly to glance at Santana before resting her chin in her hand and staring across the parking lot. Santana’s attitude was not surprising to Quinn, especially considering Brittany’s absence from school that day.
“If one more of nature’s rejects even breathes in my direction, they’re gonna find themselves in the dumpster behind San Juan Choy Bow on a Saturday night,” she threatened as she swung her leg out and kicked a passing student in the hip, pushing them away from the car. “Too damn close, Dunkin’ Donut,” she called out with a snarl as the rotund boy hurriedly waddled away. ‘San Juan Choy Bow’ was the one and only halfway decent Asian/Spanish eatery in Lima. Saturday night’s special? Fish Head Soup.
Beside her, Quinn let out a short snort of laughter. Shifting her weight, she let out a long breath as she moved to lean back on her hands, propping herself up on the hood of her car. Her hazel eyes were trained on a few students standing in a small circle about sixty feet away. There were still too many students roaming the student parking lot, and too much distance to allow for the group’s conversation to carry, but Quinn continued to watch intently.
Pulling her nail file from inside her Cheerio’s top, Santana began filing her nails, glancing to her right to check on Quinn every few seconds. “Any idea where Puckerman’s throwing this party tonight?” she began, holding her hand out to inspect the nails before returning it close to her face and filing her thumbnail. “I’m gettin’ nothing but calories from those lame-ass wine coolers he keeps trying to shove down my throat.”
Raising an eyebrow and shaking her head slowly, Quinn’s gaze roamed the parking lot until she found the topic of their conversation grinding into Jessica Stevens, a sophomore Cheerio, against the side of his truck. Circulating rumors were she’d even put out for a goat, so Quinn was pretty certain Puck was in with a chance. “I’m not sure why I’m even surprised he’s still using those as an in,” she commented with a shake of her head.
Santana scoffed and pointed in Puck’s direction with her nail file. “It’s Puckerman,” she stated as if that should be enough explanation of his chosen methodology. “The moron is toting around a rodent on his head and he’s still getting laid. What the fuck is wrong with this town?” There was a brief pause before the brunette quickly added, “No offence.”
Quinn shrugged a shoulder, unaffected by Santana’s words, and let her eyes trail over the dwindling number of students in the parking lot. She found her earlier target easily and continued to stare. “No venue… yet,” she replied, finally answering Santana’s earlier question. She dropped her head and tilted it to the side as she began to contemplate an idea - not one she was ready to share with her friend yet.
Leaning forward, crossing her right arm over her left and resting them on her exposed thigh, Santana searched for the object of Quinn’s attention. Smirking, she lowered her voice. “I hear the pride parade’s outta town.” When Quinn made no move to encourage or dissuade her, she continued. “She’s hosting tonight’s Renaissance club Flat Cap meeting.” Santana scoffed in disgust. “She couldn’t get any lamer if she tried.”
Narrowing her eyes, Quinn accepted that it was only inevitable Santana’s and her own train of thought would verge on the same path. A cell phone suddenly appeared in her line of sight, obscuring her view of the short brunette gesturing wildly to her seemingly bored companions.
“You know you wanna,” Santana teased in a low tone as her hand waved the small electronic device in front of Quinn’s face. Quinn’s fingers wrapped around Santana’s wrist and pulled her hand down. “Come on, Q,” Santana tried again. “Don’t get all holier than thou on me, now. Sin with me,” she added, her voice dropping into her lower registry as her lips brushed against the outer shell of Quinn’s ear.
Rolling her eyes, but feeling her heated skin tingle where Santana’s lips and breath had brushed against her, Quinn let go of the thin, tanned wrist. She glanced over at Rachel Berry and smirked. “Don’t forget to put it up on Facebook.”
to be continued...