Love should never be that hard - Part 5

[girlnamedclark]

Title: Love should never be that hard
Author: girlnamedclark
Rating: PG for the first chapters, eventual PG-13 and NC-17
Length: 43227~the entire thing
Spoilers: not really. mainly AU
Summary: “…We first met long before the society’s ways separated us - first grade. At that time, there were no popular kids’ groups, or anything. I was just Rachel and she was just Quinn…”  it’s high school and Rachel and Quinn are best friends, even though mainly outside high school, seeing that they each have their circle of friends.

A/N: Rachel’s POV only in the first chapter/prologue. Quinn’s POV only in the last chapter/epilogue.
A/N2: I incorporated the episodes on my multi-chaptered fic titled Cheaters in this fic, because it fitted. So I apologize anyone who has read the fic.

Part 5

The sun came down while the girls discussed various party options. For every suggestion that Quinn made and Rachel accepted it as a good idea, Quinn felt her heart clench a little more. She wanted to help Rachel, but she didn’t like what she was helping her with. But, for the sake of being a good friend - because that was all that Quinn could be to Rachel - she helped her out.

Despite Quinn’s personal feelings, Finn was good to Rachel. He loved her and he wouldn’t hurt her. Quinn tried to get her strength from that. If nothing else worked, the motivation that Rachel would be happy was enough.

The brainstorming of ideas was so intense that Rachel genuinely jumped when her eyes met the window of Quinn’s room and she realized it was already dark.

“Damn. What time is it?” Rachel asked, hurryingly reaching for her phone.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” Quinn naturally asked. She felt a pang on her stomach as she realized the answer, by herself.

“Shit” Rachel mumbled, looking at the screen of her phone “I had it in silence, I didn’t hear him calling”.

Quinn pursed her lips as she saw Rachel jump to her feet, dialling Finn’s number, and wait for him to pick up. The blonde stared sadly at Rachel’s back, while she heard her - in a sweet, soft voice - when he picked up.

“Hey. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you call… I lost track of time. Yeah. Okay, I’ll be right there”.

And in a minute, Rachel was gone, hurrying towards her house, because Finn was waiting. And Quinn was left alone in her bedroom, miserable, because she knew that Finn - despite everything - was better for Rachel than she was.

Rachel spot Finn’s car as soon as she turned to her neighbourhood. He was inside the jeep, parked on the side-walk in front of Rachel’s house, obviously listening to one of his CD’s; maybe The Doors, or Rolling Stones. He was that kind of guy.

Rachel parked by his car, passing her tongue through her lips, preparing herself for what was coming. Finn should be pretty mad at her for leaving him waiting for an entire hour. But she wasn’t definitely prepared for what Finn really was.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” Finn jumped out of his car, the door shutting behind him, heavily. Rachel could see how his face was turning red with anger and frustration.

“Finn…” she tried, calmly.

“I called you a million times. There was nobody home. I called all of your friends. Your car was gone” as he enlisted everything, he gestured expressively “for all I knew you could be down the river or something”.

Rachel pulled a face, instinctively “Finn, please, don’t over react. I’m sorry I worried you, but it happens…”

“Rachel, where the hell were you?”.

“I was at Quinn’s house, we were just talking… Finn, please let’s go inside” Rachel pleaded, fearing a scene in the neighbourhood.

“Quinn’s house? Quinn Fabray’s house?!” he asked, incredulously, as he let her drag him inside the house.

“Yes” Rachel answered, naturally, closing the front door behind them and signalling him to get to the living room.

“What were you doing there?” he asked, with a weird face.

“We were talking, I already told you” Rachel answered, exhaustedly.

“What’s the deal with you and that girl anyway?” he asked. He would normally try to be more sensible talking with Rachel, but his anger was still pulsing in his blood “inside school you barely speak to each other but outside…”

“You’re just friends, that’s all” Rachel answer, shrugging.

“How come you are friends with Quinn?” he asked, pulling a face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” all of Rachel’s comprehension - because he had been worried and everything - evaporated, and she was raising her voice, starting to get mad.

“Quinn isn’t the type of people you would be friends with” Finn commented, gesturing.

“Well, first of all: she’s obviously the kind of person I would be friends with because I am friends with her and second of all you don’t even know her” Rachel defended.

Finn stared at her, a little sardonically “I know enough”.

“What that’s supposed to mean?” Rachel repeated, getting angrier and angrier at the second.

“She’s like every other cheerleader. She’s just like Santana” he shrugged, dismissively.

“She’s nothing like Santana” Rachel made clear “and if you don’t know her, don’t you start assuming things”.

“Whatever” Finn answered, obviously tired of the conversation “I just can’t see how you two can be friends”.

“Well, we are and we have been long before I ever met you” she sent, in a cold tone.

Finn stared at her, raising one eyebrow “what is that supposed to mean?”.

“It means that she knows me better than you do and it’s kind of ridiculous that you are questioning my friendship with her” Rachel continued, pressing her finger against her chest to make the point more clear.

“Well maybe I would know you better if you didn’t shut me down so much!” he cried back.

“What are you talking about?”.

“Well, for starters, Quinn. Apparently you are BFF’s and you haven’t once mentioned her to me. Second of all, your dads. You think I don’t notice? Even if I didn’t notice that they are never around, I would notice the sadness in your eyes every time they are brought to the conversation. I’ve told you everything about my family, I told you about my grandmother’s cancer, I pealed my heart out, and you don’t even fucking tell me that you are sad because your dads work too much!”.

Rachel was speechless, firstly because her dads being brought up to the conversation was overwhelming and second of all because the recognition of what he was saying was painful, it felt like a sushi cooker was chopping her stomach into tiny pieces. He was right. He had given everything and she had given him nothing.

The tears started to fall before she could stop them. She was disappointed at herself; she was sad both for herself and for Finn.

Finn seemed slightly taken back by Rachel’s tears but he didn’t soften up.

“I’m sorry” she managed to mumble, between sobs.

“Don’t be sorry. Do something about it” Finn said, softly “I’m here, Rachel. I’m your boyfriend. I love you. I want to be here for you”.

Saying that, he turned on his heel, and left the living room. Rachel heard the front door closing, after he got out.

When Rachel’s phone rang - only seconds after that - Rachel really pondered about not picking it up. But, once again, as soon as she read the name on the screen, she didn’t hesitate in taking the call.

“Hey, you left your wallet here” Quinn’s nonchalant voice felt weird to Rachel’s ears. She reminded herself that Quinn didn’t know anything that was going on.

Rachel sniffled “it’s okay. You can give it to me tomorrow” she managed to reply in a broken voice. Quinn immediately understood she was crying.

“I’ll be there in five minutes”.

Sometimes breakdowns happen after a not-that-significant event. And Rachel found out that in that night.

Everything that she had been feeling the past couple of months - her insecurities, her fears, her guilt, her problems; her parents, Quinn, Finn - boiled together and spilled, in the form of uncontrollable tears and sobs.

When Quinn arrived to her house, she made her go upstairs to her room, in a comforting calm way. It wasn’t usual that Quinn was the one comforting and Rachel the one being comforted, but both took their roles so naturally that it would appear that Quinn was always the calm, rational one and Rachel the sensible and emotional one.

Quinn let Rachel talk. The blonde herself had not much to say, but she somehow felt that the simple fact that she was there for Rachel, that she was listening, made some difference. She let Rachel babble - it was mainly about Finn. For the first time, Rachel confessed that she didn’t feel what she was supposed to feel for her boyfriend and she also admitted that she felt guilty about it.

Quinn’s advice about that part of Rachel’s angst was simple - break up with him - but she didn’t feel like it was the right time to express that. She felt like Finn was something Rachel had to figure out for herself how to handle, and she didn’t want to force any ideas to her. If Rachel decided to keep dating Finn, Quinn could just stand by and let them be.

Rachel’s eyes were red and swollen but Quinn couldn’t help but to see a beautiful special girl before her - and she knew she didn’t look good when she cried. That must really be love, she figured, as Rachel sniffled.

Naturally, almost without thinking about it, Quinn’s hand reached for Rachel’s brown hair. She ran her fingers through a lock of perfect hair in perfect casually waved hair, undoing a natural curl. Rachel wiped her tears with the back of her hand, without really seeming to notice what Quinn was doing. When Quinn reached the end of Rachel’s lock of hair, she slightly pulled it, curling around her index finger.

“You’re so beautiful” Quinn’s words made their way out of her mouth without her having to think about them; and, more weirdly, when they were out, Quinn didn’t regret saying them.

Rachel pressed her lips together, feeling a new wave of tears watering her eyes.

And then Quinn didn’t thought about what she did.

In all of Quinn’s life, she had been pondered, controlled. She always succeeded in sending to people the image of herself that she wanted people to have, and that took careful planning of her actions. Her poise was much more important than expressing herself - she had learned that from her mother.

And now, when Quinn thought about it, what did all the image control had done for her? She had friends who didn’t know her for what she was - they knew her for what she put off to be. Guys were the same thing, attracted to her dragon-girl style, instead of her real personality.

The only person who really knew who she was - and really loved her for that - was Rachel Berry, and, if Quinn thought about it, Rachel was the person whom she had revealed the most. The person who she didn’t feel the need to put up an image; the person who never made her plan her actions. The person whom she could just be herself around.

So, at that moment, Quinn decided that thinking about - controlling - her actions was not worth it.

Hence, putting all reflections aside, she just did what she wanted to do - what she felt like doing.

Leaning forwards, her fingers still playing with brown hair edges, she searched for Rachel’s lips. She did it slowly, because every breath of Rachel scent made her heart beat faster and harder, and because she was yet to acknowledge Rachel’s reaction.

Rachel didn’t know what was coming, even when Quinn’s lips were so close to hers that she could feel her warm breath. She simply couldn’t register what was happening, because it was all too overwhelming and confusing and unexpected.

When the contact finally happened, Quinn felt like she couldn’t breathe any longer. For a split of second, Rachel just stood there, motionless, action-less, speechless. And for that split of second, Quinn felt a terrible wave of fear drowning her inside.

And then Rachel’s hand grasped Quinn’s arm, which was just beside her, supporting Quinn’s leaned body, pressing the girl closer to her.

The kiss was so gentle, so careful, that it seemed like Quinn was worried about breaking Rachel’s lips. But the soft brush of lips was enough for the girls to feel something that they had never experienced before.

When their heads parted, only for mere inches, both girls stared at their own reflection in the other’s eyes.

Their lips met again, this time more ardently. Rachel leaned her head to the side to adjust to Quinn’s. Her long-bottled craving resulted in her biting Quinn’s lower lip, who gasped, giving Rachel the perfect opportunity to sweep her tongue inside her mouth.

It was incredible how could something so soft emanate such electricity in both girls’ bodies.

Their tongues touched, slid, swept, tasted, explored without any reservations. Quinn’s tongue flickered in an unusual way and Rachel registered how that had made her breathless. Quinn was leaning forwards more and more, and now Rachel was practically carrying both their weights.

When Quinn’s lips unglued from Rachel’s and travelled left, towards the sensible skin below the brunette’s ear, Rachel’s hand rested in Quinn’s back of neck, anchoring her to her body. Quinn’s lips were frenetic - trying to grasp every little taste of skin.

Rachel felt such desire she had never experienced before and, when Quinn’s hit the spot on her neck, she couldn’t help a moan from falling through her semi-open lips and letting her head fall back.

Rachel’s moan was music to Quinn’s ears who couldn’t help but to want - at any cost - hear the pleasuring sound come out of the brunette’s voluptuous lips again. Using her sleight of experience, she searched for another spot in Rachel’s neck and sucked it, running her tongue over the inflamed skin. She succeeded in making Rachel moan once again, and this time, the sound was accompanied by a general trembling on the brunette’s body.

How could something so banal both girls had experienced before could feel like it was stopping the world and it was stopping their lives?

Quinn looked at the book Mr Sullivan had made them buy over a month ago - a poetry book. She remembered how she had despised it - the entire month. How could be possible that, out of nothing, those words she before had characterized as cheekily confusing had suddenly gained meaning to her?

Mr Sullivan was some pages back, making them read a poem about the country side. Quinn had skipped a few pages and her eyes curiously wandered through the lines.

And passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.

She felt shivers as she recognised the truth about that affirmation. She folded the edge of the page, before closing the book, for some reason.

Getting out of Mr Sullivan’s English literature classroom, there was only one thing in Quinn Fabray’s mind. Rachel. Her obsession. Her destruction.

For Quinn, school had stopped being the place for learning, or for talking to her friends, or for teasing every guy - including professors - on the building. At least that wasn’t what she woke up expecting.

School was now the opportunity for lingering, meaningful looks. Neither of them dared approach each other inside the school’s building, but they contented themselves with observing each other. Quinn lingered her eyes because the combination of chocolate eyes and tanned legs was mesmerizing; Rachel because she just liked how Quinn moved.

The biology class went from being the place where Quinn and Rachel joyfully chatted, laughed and teased each other for the place where they both exchanged glares and mysterious smiles.

But the school day was only the building up for what happened next, outside school, in Rachel’s or Quinn’s bedroom.

Firstly, both girls silently agreed on trying it again - they wanted to make sure that what they had felt the first time wasn’t just novelty, and that was proved after some other meetings. As much as Quinn tasted Rachel, she never got over her first sweep of tongue after a long day of craving for it. As much as Rachel left marks on Quinn’s neck, she never got over the feeling of satisfaction by the blonde’s groans.

The meetings became very frequent - whenever they could - and the feeling didn’t wear away; it lingered and if possible got stronger and stronger.

“Can I get you a beer?” it was a tall, handsome, blonde guy approaching Quinn, just by the Santana’s couch, where a couple was shamelessly harassing each other. He had to yell to make himself heard over the music and he barely was.

Too bad he hasn’t brown hair, Quinn thought, she had been really into brown hair lately.

“How tall are you?” she asked, with a provocative smile on her perfect lips. He smiled back, mistaking it for flirting.

“6’3” he proudly answered her.

“Too bad” she said, before turning around and leaving him there, confused. She had nothing against his height, but she liked to play those games. The truth was that Quinn was simply not wanting any guy at that moment. She was just mean enough to make each one of them think that it was for personal reasons.

She made some rounds on the party. She stopped occasionally to chat up with some friends and to be the centre of attention of some guys, but she didn’t expect more of the night. Santana’s parties weren’t fun when she knew that Rachel wasn’t going to be there to watch her dance or - now that they had broken the physical limits - to bring her upstairs to Santana’s parents’ room and it turned out that Quinn knew that Rachel was spending that Friday night with her dads, watching a movie. She was happy for her - she knew how much Rachel treasured those rare moments she spent with them - and she didn’t wish for anything else.

Quinn’s purpose about coming to the party was simple: have some innocent fun, assist some “dirts” that would be certainly circulating around school the next Monday. Then she would go home, curl up on her sheets and fall asleep thinking about Rachel. It was the most banal of plans, but that didn’t stop it from being appealing.

“Quinn!” she heard a highly reprehensive tone behind her which made her turn around, with her eyebrows raised. Maggie stood there, with Santana, her hands thigh around her waist, as if mad “what are you doing ignoring Rob Rivers?”.

“Who’s Rob Rivers?” Quinn nonchalantly asked, as if she was asking if it was raining outside.

“Just the hottest guy in town!” Santana claimed, excitedly, her brown eyes twinkling creepily.

“And how come I am ignoring him, if I don’t even know who he is?”.

“You were just talking to him. I could see you just blew him off” Maggie continued, displeased.

“Wait, who is he again?” Quinn asked, looking around the room.

Maggie sighed, before pointing out, shamelessly, the blond guy Quinn had asked how tall was.

“Uh, yuck” Quinn said, more because she knew it would annoy her friends.
“Yuck?!” Santana repeated, scandalized “yum! Do you know he has a bike? I really cool one, I mean”.

“Great, a boyfriend attached with eminent death. That’s just what I want” Quinn said, sarcastically, rolling her eyes for dramatic effect.

“Quinn, it’s Rob fucking Rivers, you can’t just blow him off like that!”.

“Look, if you are so in love with him why don’t you go for it?” Quinn told them, indifferently.

It turned out, all the girls needed was permission.

As Quinn’s lips slid along Rachel’s jaw line invoking a series of pleasuring shivers through the brunette’s body, all she could do was trying to maintain her ability to breathe. It was so intense and it felt so… good.

Quinn’s fingers brushed against Rachel’s jeans waist occasionally teasing the buttons. On previous occasions, Quinn had gone as far as to unbuttoned them, but Rachel knew the cheerleader wouldn’t go farther than that, at least for now.

Rachel tangled her hand in soft blonde hair, pressing Quinn closer to her. Quinn didn’t resist and, slowly, Rachel lied on Quinn’s bed, with Quinn on top of her.

Someone tried to enter Quinn’s room, but since the door was locked, all he/she could do was to announce their presence “Quinnie?” despite the nickname, the voice that came from outside Quinn’s room sounded slightly indifferent and cold. Mrs Fabray, Quinn’s mother, awaited for her daughter to open the door.

Quinn jumped to her feet immediately, as Rachel did too, walking towards the window. Somehow, her shirt’s top buttons had become undone without she even notice it. She only had a moment to admire Quinn’s knack, because it was urgent to compose herself back again. Both girls were completely aware that they were flushed and guilty-looking, like two kids caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing.

Quinn checked her hair on the mirror before looking over her shoulder to confirm Rachel was ready. Then she opened the door.
“Mother” Quinn cried, as if she didn’t already know who was outside.

Mrs Fabray wasn’t the queen of warmness. She stared at the daughter with raised eyebrows, before looking around the room, to make sure no one else, but Rachel, was there “why did you girls have the door locked?” she suspiciously asked, giving Rachel a look from head to toes, which made the brunette feel intimidated.

“Hum… we were just trying some clothes on” Quinn quickly answered, as casually as she could.

“Hum” the woman - an exact copy of Quinn only older and a little “stretched” here and there - replied, still glancing around the room “I just wanted to remember you that you promise you would have dinner with the Ford’s tonight”.

Quinn pulled a face that could only be interpreted by her having completely forgotten about that fact “yes” she replied, heavily “the Ford’s tonight”.

“Be ready by seven, alright? And wear that lovely dress I bought you” the woman asked.

“Yes, mother” Quinn answered, slightly worn out.

“Rachel” Mrs Fabray mumbled, before leaving, nodding slightly. Rachel smiled back.

It wasn’t an unknown fact that Quinn’s mother wasn’t Rachel’s biggest fan. Personally, she hadn’t anything against Rachel, but the fact that Rachel came from a working-class family - of two fathers - who lived in the suburbs always had bothered Mrs Fabray. Despite that, she kept her thoughts about the subject to herself, but showed them in the cold way how she always greeted the brunette. It didn’t bother Rachel anymore; it served as one more thing to admire about Quinn: even with the education she had, she managed to be a good person by herself.

When Quinn closed the door behind Mrs Fabray both girls held their breath until they heard her high heels against the stairs.
“My mother, cockblock of the year” Quinn announced, annoyingly, pulling a face.

Rachel laughed, sweetly, smoothing the fabric on her shirt “it’s okay. I have to go anyway. My dad said he would be home for dinner. I should be there to witness that he is not”.

Quinn sent her a compassioned glare and then said “if you need company, you know who to call”.

“I thought you had the Ford’s dinner” Rachel remembered her, and Quinn pulled another face, smacking her palm against her forehead.
“I keep forgetting that!”.

Rachel laughed, picking up her purse and walking close to Quinn to smack her on the lips.

“You do know my mother is trying to set me up with Gary Ford?” Quinn asked, half-amused.
“Really?”.

“From a good family, good-looking - which means pretty babies - aspirations to become a lawyer…” Quinn related “ugh, he’s my father!”.

“Sounds like a good deal for you” Rachel commented, dryly, searching for something inside her purse.

Quinn stared at her, amused hazel eyes “are you jealous?”.

“Yes. Gary is hot” Rachel said ironically to provoke Quinn.

Quinn staged a silent laugh, ironically, pulling Rachel by her arm to give her a last kiss - which she happened to be the master of; no one could receive one of Quinn’s last kisses and just go back to their lives without having her on their mind.

“Right” Rachel said, a little breathlessly, when they parted. Quinn smiled to herself, proudly.

When Rachel threw her hair over her shoulder, right before starting to walk towards the door, Quinn noticed a little mark she had on her neck, and couldn’t help but to smile widely by seeing it.

Rachel noticed it and curiously looked at her “what?”.

“Nothing” she answered, firstly, but then saw Rachel’s puzzled expression and continued, with a thick southern accent “apparently I like to brand my woman”.

At first Rachel didn’t understand but then realization slowly hit her and she made a dash for Quinn’s mirror.

“Quinn!” Rachel cried, as she upsettingly stared at the hickey the blonde had given her.

“It’s not my fault you bruise easily” Quinn laughed, relaxed.

“Finn’s going to notice it!” Rachel continued to cry.

“Oh, what’s the big deal? Maybe he thinks he did it. Besides, you are giving me hickeys all the time; my friends actually think I have secret lover. Which I do, obviously. But they think it’s a guy”.
“Well, you don’t have a boyfriend, so you can go around getting hickeys from whomever you want. I can’t” Rachel insisted, madly “and I’m pretty sure he remembers what he did or did not do”.

“Relax, you can cover it up with make up. Don’t be such a drama queen” Quinn rolled her eyes, reaching for her foundation and casually giving it to Rachel.

“I really wish you were more careful” Rachel said, her chocolate eyes reflecting Quinn.

Quinn smiled sweetly, leaning to brush her lips against Rachel’s “you know you like me dangerous”.

Part 6