fic: love fool (5/?)
Title: Love Fool (5/?)
Rating: NC-17
Couple: Quinn/Santana
Summary: So, really last night isn’t a big deal. Quinn was just curious and lonely and drunk. Santana was probably the same. So, she shouldn’t be freaking out.
Prompt: none
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I certainly wish I did. They'd hump like bunnies on viagra.
A/N: Again thanks for all of the reviews and to everyone who's still reading it. I'm sorry this update took a little long. I wasn't happy with what I'd originally written. So, I had to rewrite a lot of it. So, I hope you'll enjoy it.
The music is loud when Quinn arrives at Puck’s new house and she’s grateful she has a plan. It took her most of the day to decide to even go, but it’s ridiculous for her to keep hiding from Santana because it’s her last night there and after tomorrow, she basically never has to see the other girl again if she doesn’t want to. They live in two very large and very different cities and there’s about a million reasons for them to never cross paths. So, really, this ball is in her court and she isn’t exactly sure why she’s been trying to pass it off to Santana in the first place.
It had been her decision, long before her flight to Lima, to seduce Santana and she’d succeeded far easier than she’d ever imagined. It’s not that Santana is easy. Quinn would be a fool to believe half the shit Puck and Santana have said about bedding so many people. In fact, she has it on good authority that the whole rep had started with some guy during freshman year saying Santana had let him get to third base and that was a lie because she’d been there the whole time and the most they ever did was make out on one couch while Quinn and Finn were doing it on another. Santana just chose to not correct the assumption and thus the whole rep was born.
That isn’t to say she isn’t experienced. She is. Far more than Quinn is, but it’s just not to the level that she’d like everyone to think. It helps Quinn feel less like a notch on Santana’s belt and she can and does take great comfort in knowing that. So even if Santana wants to brush it off and act as if Quinn was nothing more than an opportunity, and that might even be true for her, Quinn knows that when Santana looked into her eyes right as her fingers danced where they were needed most and Quinn was almost begging for it and asked if she was okay, if this was all okay, Santana cared.
With that knowledge fixed in her mind, Quinn feels ready. She can do this, face Santana one last time. But it’s more than that. She feels something else, a new confidence of sorts. She told the other girl that it was just an experiment, a one-time thing and Santana seemed content to allow Quinn the opportunity. So, she’s going to make the most of this. She doesn’t want everyone to know, that would be a disaster, but this is Puck’s party and everyone will probably be too drunk to notice anything she’s doing. She isn’t certain anything will happen, but if she can manage to slip away with Santana into a room, she’s going to take it.
She reaches out and hits the bell, rocking on her heels. There’s a muffled “I’ll get it” and then the door is opening.
Rachel’s eyes are brights and there’s a blue colored drink in her hand as she answers. “Quinn! I’m so happy you came,” she greets, pulling the blonde into a tight hug.
She smells of coconut and alcohol and Quinn pulls back with an amused grin. “I can see that.” They stand there for a moment and Quinn looks past her. “Do you think I could come in?”
Dark eyes go wide, and Rachel’s head bobs up and down. “I’m so sorry. Come in.” She steps aside and Quinn walks past her. The house is nice and definitely a step up from the apartment she once lived in when she was pregnant. “Everyone’s out back. There’s this thing Noah’s using keep everyone warm. Plus, there’s a hot tub!” The last sentence is said in this sing-song voice that makes Quinn laugh. “I hope you brought your suit.”
Quinn holds up her bag and nods. “Just like Puck told me.” She looks around, seeing more than just their little group. There’s other football players and a Cheerio or two she recognizes. She just has no desire to talk to any of them. It’s weird, but she wonders when she started preferring the Glee Club over them. She sees Rachel nearly stumble before her and reaches out to steady her. “How many have you had?” She says close to Rachel’s ear. The music is loud as they move through the house and she wants to be sure she’s heard.
“Only a couple. Santana says we have to match drink for drink...hey did you know she could drink so much? She doesn’t even seem drunk.” Rachel’s words are slurring. She doesn’t see the way Quinn’s cheek tinge pink and her nostrils flare. She’s relieved because she’s sure she didn’t hide her little reaction at hearing Santana’s name.
“Yeah, you should be really careful when it comes to Puck and Santana. They’re like professional drinkers.”
“I know, right?” Rachel smiles up at her and grabs her arm, dragging her towards the kitchen. “It’s so much fun. Hey look everyone, Quinn’s here!” Sugar and Brittany cheer and Mercedes waves from where she’s sitting at the table.
Brittany’s arms settle tight around Quinn, pressing her into her side crushingly. She should be used to this by now, Brittany’s pretty affectionate, especially after a few drinks, but it still catches Quinn a little off guard. She manages to get her arms around her friend and hug back, laughing when Brittany giggles against her cheek.
“Okay, I’m back with the tequila, who wants margaritas?” She hears Santana before she sees her, practically dancing into the kitchen. It’s obvious she’s had a few and Quinn’s light eyes take in the way the muscles of her bare abdomen ripple as she rolls her hips. Clearly whatever Puck is using to heat the small backyard has made it okay to wear a barely there bikini in the middle of February in Ohio. God, how did she never notice just how hot Santana was?
Their eyes lock and Quinn’s breath catches before she looks away, distracted by the way Brittany is pulling her hand. “Come on, Quinn. Let’s get in the hot tub.”
“Wait. I need to put my suit on,” Quinn reminds her, looking around for the bathroom. She also needs a moment because she can’t take looking at Santana in that...barely there thing anymore.
“Okay, the bathroom’s right over there.” Brittany reaches across her face as she points to the white wooden door just off of the kitchen. “Come out when you’re done. Me and Sugar will save you a spot.”
With a nod, Quinn heads in the direction of the bathroom. She leans against the door once she’s in there, taking a few deep breaths and trying to clear her head. Her body’s reaction is stronger than it had been the other night and she needs to get a grip. Obviously, she still wants the other girl if the tingle at the base of her spine is anything to go by, but she can’t exactly go out there and drag Santana away. She needs to be subtle.
There’s a knock at the door and she thinks it’s probably Brittany or Rachel coming to ask what’s taking so long. She pulls the door open and actually gasps when she sees Santana standing there. There’s an awkward moment of silence where they just stare at one another before Santana’s handing her a glass with bright red slush and shifting on her feet awkwardly.
“Thanks,” Quinn mumbles and takes the drink. Maybe she needs subtlety and a little liquid courage. She brings it to her lips and sips, savoring the strong taste of tequila. She wonders if Santana just guessed she needed a drink or if it’s sheer coincidence. There’s a silence that’s stretched between them and her skin prickles with awareness.
“Quinn, are we cool?” Santana asks suddenly and it looks like she’s forcing herself to maintain eye contact, which amuses the blonde slightly because she knows how much that kind of things pains Santana.
She’s not going to pretend she doesn’t know what Santana is talking about. Even as she takes another sip she knows that’s true. She just hadn’t actually expected her to bring it up. Avoidance is a game they’re both pros at, but here Santana was, practically shuffling her feet nervously. It would just be worse to drag this out for any longer than she already has in the first place. She just kind of wishes she’d been the one to do it because now Santana’s reduced it to this simple question and it kind of pisses her off.
“Yep, we’re good.” Her answer is quick and nonchalant and Santana looks almost relieved when she offers her small smile. It’s kind of adorable and shouldn’t make Quinn want to slap her, but it does anyway. She won’t, but she guesses no amount of feelings will ever really quell the urge to strike her beautiful face. Sex really complicated that aspect of their relationship, didn’t it?
“Good, I thought you were avoiding me.”
“Well, I’m not. Why would I avoid you?” Quinn takes another long drink and tries to take her time because brain freeze on top of what Santana’s obvious relief seems to be doing to her. Her heart feels suddenly heavy, but it steels her resolve. She was expecting this, she reminds herself. She knew that Santana was going to want to forget. It just still feels a little like someone’s standing on her chest.
Santana kind of shrugs and her grin turns shy. “I don’t know, but I’m glad you’re not.” She straightens and runs a hand over her messy bun. She’s silent for another moment and she just watches Quinn, her dark eyes seemingly searching for something in her expression. Her smile turns into that familiar smirk of hers and she reaches out, tugging on a lock of Quinn’s hair. “Now, hurry up and change. There’s prime real estate in the hot tub reserved only for the hottest girls at this party and that’s clearly us.”
That easy smile manages to calm Quinn’s anguish, and as she closes the door, she studies her reflection in the mirror. She’s here to have fun, right? And the ball is in her court, she reminds herself. She slips into her suit and folds her dress, putting it into her bag. The ball is in her court and she’s going to make the most of tonight because she’s not really sure what tomorrow will bring or the day after that, but for now, she’s just going to enjoy her fucking night.
She drinks the rest of her drink before leaving the bathroom and then does two shots of 99 bananas with Finn before heading out to the back. If she’s going to do this, she’s definitely not going to be sober.
---
Sugar and Brittany are discussing something that Quinn really doesn’t understand, but she’s laughing a lot because she’s pretty drunk and everything is a lot funnier than it should be. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Sam and Tina discussing some new manga (whatever that is) and there’s a few other people milling about. Things are going pretty smoothly, she thinks.
Except, it’s distracting the way Santana’s body sort of floats next to her in the tub. She’s having a conversation with Rachel and seems to be completely oblivious to it, which irritates Quinn all the more. The heat is just making her feel drunker than the rum in her glass. She tries to ignore the arousal that’s starting low in her stomach because it’s inconvenient and she can’t exactly pull Santana out of the tub with her, no matter how much her brain is screaming to do just that.. Rum’s always made her horny and having Santana next to her, moving against her, is just making it worst.
She shifts away slightly, her fingers grazing Santana’s thigh under the water accidentally in an attempt to put some distance between them. She feels more than hears the slight intake of breath in the body next to hers and spares a glance towards Santana. She’s still engrossed in her conversation with Rachel, but Quinn’s sure she felt Santana move. So, she tries again, this time moving her finger more purposefully against the smooth skin.
Santana sort of freezes and she doesn’t look at Quinn, but the blonde’s still sure that she reacted. She withdraws her hand and feels Santana relax beside her. She finally turns her head, eyes narrowed in Quinn’s direction, but she’s already feigning ignorance and turns back to Brittany and Sugar.
There’s a thought worming its way into her brain and she’s just drunk enough to think it’s a good idea. This was meant for much later, but it just won’t go away. Maybe it’s that Santana wants to pretend like things are just the way they were before. Maybe it’s that Quinn has never really been one for being ignored. Maybe it’s that she’ll never be able to not want to see how far she can push Santana, but it seems like the perfect thing to do. And before she can rationalize why this is definitely on the list of taking things a step too far, her fingers are grazing the inside of Santana’s thigh.
She keeps her attention on her friends, but she can hear the way Santana’s breathing changes with every gentle scrap of her manicured nails. It’s kind of thrilling in the way it had always been to pull a prank or sneak out with a boy or when she’d sleep over at Santana’s and they’d watch Cinemax after Dark. She’s always wondered who’d get off on being watched or having sex in a public, always figured it would be someone like Rachel. But now she’s starting to find merit, can now understand the why with every little shiver that makes its way through Santana’s body.
Sipping at her drink, her fingers move higher and she’s somehow managing to actually listen to Sugar’s story about the dream she had where Mr. Schue was chased by a bunch of 20’s mobsters. Stronger fingers wrap around her’s when they find the edge of Santana’s bikini bottoms. She didn’t have to look to know that wide brown eyes were staring at the back of her head in shock, but turns her head anyway, giving Santana a little grin and wiggling her fingers free to tease her over the spandex material separating her from the moist heat she has no doubt is just beneath.
She presses her index finger down and Santana’s teeth sink into her bottom lip. Quinn has no intentions of stopping. She loves that she has strong, thin thighs quivering from her touch. Besides, no one else seems to notice and she drains the rest of her glass and hands it to Brittany to set away from the tub. There’s a gentle slosh of water behind her and she can feel the way Santana’s hips roll slowly, completely undetectable, and, feeling bold, Quinn pushes the fabric aside and lets her finger dip inside.
The water makes friction nearly impossible and it’s hard to rotate her wrist when she can’t bend her elbow to the right angle, but this isn’t about comfort. This is about some fucked conquest her mind says she needs to have. Santana groans next to her as her fingers work and covers it by clearing her throat.
It’s that little action the seems to catch Brittany’s attention. Quinn almost misses the way her head tilts curiously and she frowns a little. “Santana, are you okay? You look kind of-”
The rest of whatever she’s going to say is cut off when Puck calls out to Sam. “Look at Evans, stud of the century. How did you manage to be the only guy in that tub, dude? I mean you look like a total pimp!” Mike and Finn are standing next to him as he raises his phone and snaps a picture. “This should be your new profile pic.”
Brittany crosses the tub and manages to settle onto Sam’s lap, pressing a kiss to his lips. Quinn spares a glance at Santana because that’s probably a total mood killer, but she doesn’t seem to be looking and she realizes it’s because her fingers have started moving faster. Long lashes hide Santana’s eyes and her head is bowed. Quinn can see the way her chest is rising and falling rapidly and she’s grateful that Finn has come over to talk to Rachel. Her fingers twist and pinch and she presses down and Santana’s whole body goes rigid. Quinn’s not sure how she’s managing to not move a single muscles until her climax subsides, but she does it, her body relaxing inch by inch slowly.
Quinn quickly extracts her hand and slides closer to Sugar, partly to give Santana room and partly because she’s not sure what will happen now. Impulse has never really worked in her favor, but she’s finding it hard to regret what just happened. That might have something to do with the throbbing between her own legs, but she’s also feeling oddly victorious. Dark eyes fix on her and they look pissed, but there’s something else to them.
“Quinn, can I have a word with you...alone?” The tone of Santana’s voice leaves no room for anything but an affirmative answer. Everyone else seems surprised and as she climbs out of the tub. But Quinn follows quietly behind her.
“Good luck,” she hears Brittany whisper at her and she sends a worried glance over her shoulder.
Once she’s back inside of the house, Santana grabs her by the wrist and drags her up the stairs and into what Quinn assumes is Puck’s sister’s bedroom and slams the door. “What the fuck was that?” She demands, her face inches from Quinn’s.
It’s hard to think with Santana this close and the only thing Quinn can seem to look at is her mouth. Her brain struggles to find words. She’s not even sure how to begin to explain why she did what she did. “I just...I wanted,” she stammers out. She bites her lip to stop the words. Lucy stuttered. Quinn doesn’t.
“You wanted what?” Santana’s eyes are wild as they scan her face.
Quinn remembers her decision to never be afraid of Santana and just like that, her mask slips down and her eyes boldly meet Santana’s. “You. I wanted you.”
The kiss is bruising her plush lips before she’s even seen Santana move. She pulls Quinn from the door and pushes her down onto the full-size bed, straddling her waist.
It isn’t until Santana’s fingers are reaching deep inside of her that she remembers why this was only supposed to be a two-time thing.
---
Rating: NC-17
Couple: Quinn/Santana
Summary: So, really last night isn’t a big deal. Quinn was just curious and lonely and drunk. Santana was probably the same. So, she shouldn’t be freaking out.
Prompt: none
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I certainly wish I did. They'd hump like bunnies on viagra.
A/N: Again thanks for all of the reviews and to everyone who's still reading it. I'm sorry this update took a little long. I wasn't happy with what I'd originally written. So, I had to rewrite a lot of it. So, I hope you'll enjoy it.
The music is loud when Quinn arrives at Puck’s new house and she’s grateful she has a plan. It took her most of the day to decide to even go, but it’s ridiculous for her to keep hiding from Santana because it’s her last night there and after tomorrow, she basically never has to see the other girl again if she doesn’t want to. They live in two very large and very different cities and there’s about a million reasons for them to never cross paths. So, really, this ball is in her court and she isn’t exactly sure why she’s been trying to pass it off to Santana in the first place.
It had been her decision, long before her flight to Lima, to seduce Santana and she’d succeeded far easier than she’d ever imagined. It’s not that Santana is easy. Quinn would be a fool to believe half the shit Puck and Santana have said about bedding so many people. In fact, she has it on good authority that the whole rep had started with some guy during freshman year saying Santana had let him get to third base and that was a lie because she’d been there the whole time and the most they ever did was make out on one couch while Quinn and Finn were doing it on another. Santana just chose to not correct the assumption and thus the whole rep was born.
That isn’t to say she isn’t experienced. She is. Far more than Quinn is, but it’s just not to the level that she’d like everyone to think. It helps Quinn feel less like a notch on Santana’s belt and she can and does take great comfort in knowing that. So even if Santana wants to brush it off and act as if Quinn was nothing more than an opportunity, and that might even be true for her, Quinn knows that when Santana looked into her eyes right as her fingers danced where they were needed most and Quinn was almost begging for it and asked if she was okay, if this was all okay, Santana cared.
With that knowledge fixed in her mind, Quinn feels ready. She can do this, face Santana one last time. But it’s more than that. She feels something else, a new confidence of sorts. She told the other girl that it was just an experiment, a one-time thing and Santana seemed content to allow Quinn the opportunity. So, she’s going to make the most of this. She doesn’t want everyone to know, that would be a disaster, but this is Puck’s party and everyone will probably be too drunk to notice anything she’s doing. She isn’t certain anything will happen, but if she can manage to slip away with Santana into a room, she’s going to take it.
She reaches out and hits the bell, rocking on her heels. There’s a muffled “I’ll get it” and then the door is opening.
Rachel’s eyes are brights and there’s a blue colored drink in her hand as she answers. “Quinn! I’m so happy you came,” she greets, pulling the blonde into a tight hug.
She smells of coconut and alcohol and Quinn pulls back with an amused grin. “I can see that.” They stand there for a moment and Quinn looks past her. “Do you think I could come in?”
Dark eyes go wide, and Rachel’s head bobs up and down. “I’m so sorry. Come in.” She steps aside and Quinn walks past her. The house is nice and definitely a step up from the apartment she once lived in when she was pregnant. “Everyone’s out back. There’s this thing Noah’s using keep everyone warm. Plus, there’s a hot tub!” The last sentence is said in this sing-song voice that makes Quinn laugh. “I hope you brought your suit.”
Quinn holds up her bag and nods. “Just like Puck told me.” She looks around, seeing more than just their little group. There’s other football players and a Cheerio or two she recognizes. She just has no desire to talk to any of them. It’s weird, but she wonders when she started preferring the Glee Club over them. She sees Rachel nearly stumble before her and reaches out to steady her. “How many have you had?” She says close to Rachel’s ear. The music is loud as they move through the house and she wants to be sure she’s heard.
“Only a couple. Santana says we have to match drink for drink...hey did you know she could drink so much? She doesn’t even seem drunk.” Rachel’s words are slurring. She doesn’t see the way Quinn’s cheek tinge pink and her nostrils flare. She’s relieved because she’s sure she didn’t hide her little reaction at hearing Santana’s name.
“Yeah, you should be really careful when it comes to Puck and Santana. They’re like professional drinkers.”
“I know, right?” Rachel smiles up at her and grabs her arm, dragging her towards the kitchen. “It’s so much fun. Hey look everyone, Quinn’s here!” Sugar and Brittany cheer and Mercedes waves from where she’s sitting at the table.
Brittany’s arms settle tight around Quinn, pressing her into her side crushingly. She should be used to this by now, Brittany’s pretty affectionate, especially after a few drinks, but it still catches Quinn a little off guard. She manages to get her arms around her friend and hug back, laughing when Brittany giggles against her cheek.
“Okay, I’m back with the tequila, who wants margaritas?” She hears Santana before she sees her, practically dancing into the kitchen. It’s obvious she’s had a few and Quinn’s light eyes take in the way the muscles of her bare abdomen ripple as she rolls her hips. Clearly whatever Puck is using to heat the small backyard has made it okay to wear a barely there bikini in the middle of February in Ohio. God, how did she never notice just how hot Santana was?
Their eyes lock and Quinn’s breath catches before she looks away, distracted by the way Brittany is pulling her hand. “Come on, Quinn. Let’s get in the hot tub.”
“Wait. I need to put my suit on,” Quinn reminds her, looking around for the bathroom. She also needs a moment because she can’t take looking at Santana in that...barely there thing anymore.
“Okay, the bathroom’s right over there.” Brittany reaches across her face as she points to the white wooden door just off of the kitchen. “Come out when you’re done. Me and Sugar will save you a spot.”
With a nod, Quinn heads in the direction of the bathroom. She leans against the door once she’s in there, taking a few deep breaths and trying to clear her head. Her body’s reaction is stronger than it had been the other night and she needs to get a grip. Obviously, she still wants the other girl if the tingle at the base of her spine is anything to go by, but she can’t exactly go out there and drag Santana away. She needs to be subtle.
There’s a knock at the door and she thinks it’s probably Brittany or Rachel coming to ask what’s taking so long. She pulls the door open and actually gasps when she sees Santana standing there. There’s an awkward moment of silence where they just stare at one another before Santana’s handing her a glass with bright red slush and shifting on her feet awkwardly.
“Thanks,” Quinn mumbles and takes the drink. Maybe she needs subtlety and a little liquid courage. She brings it to her lips and sips, savoring the strong taste of tequila. She wonders if Santana just guessed she needed a drink or if it’s sheer coincidence. There’s a silence that’s stretched between them and her skin prickles with awareness.
“Quinn, are we cool?” Santana asks suddenly and it looks like she’s forcing herself to maintain eye contact, which amuses the blonde slightly because she knows how much that kind of things pains Santana.
She’s not going to pretend she doesn’t know what Santana is talking about. Even as she takes another sip she knows that’s true. She just hadn’t actually expected her to bring it up. Avoidance is a game they’re both pros at, but here Santana was, practically shuffling her feet nervously. It would just be worse to drag this out for any longer than she already has in the first place. She just kind of wishes she’d been the one to do it because now Santana’s reduced it to this simple question and it kind of pisses her off.
“Yep, we’re good.” Her answer is quick and nonchalant and Santana looks almost relieved when she offers her small smile. It’s kind of adorable and shouldn’t make Quinn want to slap her, but it does anyway. She won’t, but she guesses no amount of feelings will ever really quell the urge to strike her beautiful face. Sex really complicated that aspect of their relationship, didn’t it?
“Good, I thought you were avoiding me.”
“Well, I’m not. Why would I avoid you?” Quinn takes another long drink and tries to take her time because brain freeze on top of what Santana’s obvious relief seems to be doing to her. Her heart feels suddenly heavy, but it steels her resolve. She was expecting this, she reminds herself. She knew that Santana was going to want to forget. It just still feels a little like someone’s standing on her chest.
Santana kind of shrugs and her grin turns shy. “I don’t know, but I’m glad you’re not.” She straightens and runs a hand over her messy bun. She’s silent for another moment and she just watches Quinn, her dark eyes seemingly searching for something in her expression. Her smile turns into that familiar smirk of hers and she reaches out, tugging on a lock of Quinn’s hair. “Now, hurry up and change. There’s prime real estate in the hot tub reserved only for the hottest girls at this party and that’s clearly us.”
That easy smile manages to calm Quinn’s anguish, and as she closes the door, she studies her reflection in the mirror. She’s here to have fun, right? And the ball is in her court, she reminds herself. She slips into her suit and folds her dress, putting it into her bag. The ball is in her court and she’s going to make the most of tonight because she’s not really sure what tomorrow will bring or the day after that, but for now, she’s just going to enjoy her fucking night.
She drinks the rest of her drink before leaving the bathroom and then does two shots of 99 bananas with Finn before heading out to the back. If she’s going to do this, she’s definitely not going to be sober.
---
Sugar and Brittany are discussing something that Quinn really doesn’t understand, but she’s laughing a lot because she’s pretty drunk and everything is a lot funnier than it should be. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Sam and Tina discussing some new manga (whatever that is) and there’s a few other people milling about. Things are going pretty smoothly, she thinks.
Except, it’s distracting the way Santana’s body sort of floats next to her in the tub. She’s having a conversation with Rachel and seems to be completely oblivious to it, which irritates Quinn all the more. The heat is just making her feel drunker than the rum in her glass. She tries to ignore the arousal that’s starting low in her stomach because it’s inconvenient and she can’t exactly pull Santana out of the tub with her, no matter how much her brain is screaming to do just that.. Rum’s always made her horny and having Santana next to her, moving against her, is just making it worst.
She shifts away slightly, her fingers grazing Santana’s thigh under the water accidentally in an attempt to put some distance between them. She feels more than hears the slight intake of breath in the body next to hers and spares a glance towards Santana. She’s still engrossed in her conversation with Rachel, but Quinn’s sure she felt Santana move. So, she tries again, this time moving her finger more purposefully against the smooth skin.
Santana sort of freezes and she doesn’t look at Quinn, but the blonde’s still sure that she reacted. She withdraws her hand and feels Santana relax beside her. She finally turns her head, eyes narrowed in Quinn’s direction, but she’s already feigning ignorance and turns back to Brittany and Sugar.
There’s a thought worming its way into her brain and she’s just drunk enough to think it’s a good idea. This was meant for much later, but it just won’t go away. Maybe it’s that Santana wants to pretend like things are just the way they were before. Maybe it’s that Quinn has never really been one for being ignored. Maybe it’s that she’ll never be able to not want to see how far she can push Santana, but it seems like the perfect thing to do. And before she can rationalize why this is definitely on the list of taking things a step too far, her fingers are grazing the inside of Santana’s thigh.
She keeps her attention on her friends, but she can hear the way Santana’s breathing changes with every gentle scrap of her manicured nails. It’s kind of thrilling in the way it had always been to pull a prank or sneak out with a boy or when she’d sleep over at Santana’s and they’d watch Cinemax after Dark. She’s always wondered who’d get off on being watched or having sex in a public, always figured it would be someone like Rachel. But now she’s starting to find merit, can now understand the why with every little shiver that makes its way through Santana’s body.
Sipping at her drink, her fingers move higher and she’s somehow managing to actually listen to Sugar’s story about the dream she had where Mr. Schue was chased by a bunch of 20’s mobsters. Stronger fingers wrap around her’s when they find the edge of Santana’s bikini bottoms. She didn’t have to look to know that wide brown eyes were staring at the back of her head in shock, but turns her head anyway, giving Santana a little grin and wiggling her fingers free to tease her over the spandex material separating her from the moist heat she has no doubt is just beneath.
She presses her index finger down and Santana’s teeth sink into her bottom lip. Quinn has no intentions of stopping. She loves that she has strong, thin thighs quivering from her touch. Besides, no one else seems to notice and she drains the rest of her glass and hands it to Brittany to set away from the tub. There’s a gentle slosh of water behind her and she can feel the way Santana’s hips roll slowly, completely undetectable, and, feeling bold, Quinn pushes the fabric aside and lets her finger dip inside.
The water makes friction nearly impossible and it’s hard to rotate her wrist when she can’t bend her elbow to the right angle, but this isn’t about comfort. This is about some fucked conquest her mind says she needs to have. Santana groans next to her as her fingers work and covers it by clearing her throat.
It’s that little action the seems to catch Brittany’s attention. Quinn almost misses the way her head tilts curiously and she frowns a little. “Santana, are you okay? You look kind of-”
The rest of whatever she’s going to say is cut off when Puck calls out to Sam. “Look at Evans, stud of the century. How did you manage to be the only guy in that tub, dude? I mean you look like a total pimp!” Mike and Finn are standing next to him as he raises his phone and snaps a picture. “This should be your new profile pic.”
Brittany crosses the tub and manages to settle onto Sam’s lap, pressing a kiss to his lips. Quinn spares a glance at Santana because that’s probably a total mood killer, but she doesn’t seem to be looking and she realizes it’s because her fingers have started moving faster. Long lashes hide Santana’s eyes and her head is bowed. Quinn can see the way her chest is rising and falling rapidly and she’s grateful that Finn has come over to talk to Rachel. Her fingers twist and pinch and she presses down and Santana’s whole body goes rigid. Quinn’s not sure how she’s managing to not move a single muscles until her climax subsides, but she does it, her body relaxing inch by inch slowly.
Quinn quickly extracts her hand and slides closer to Sugar, partly to give Santana room and partly because she’s not sure what will happen now. Impulse has never really worked in her favor, but she’s finding it hard to regret what just happened. That might have something to do with the throbbing between her own legs, but she’s also feeling oddly victorious. Dark eyes fix on her and they look pissed, but there’s something else to them.
“Quinn, can I have a word with you...alone?” The tone of Santana’s voice leaves no room for anything but an affirmative answer. Everyone else seems surprised and as she climbs out of the tub. But Quinn follows quietly behind her.
“Good luck,” she hears Brittany whisper at her and she sends a worried glance over her shoulder.
Once she’s back inside of the house, Santana grabs her by the wrist and drags her up the stairs and into what Quinn assumes is Puck’s sister’s bedroom and slams the door. “What the fuck was that?” She demands, her face inches from Quinn’s.
It’s hard to think with Santana this close and the only thing Quinn can seem to look at is her mouth. Her brain struggles to find words. She’s not even sure how to begin to explain why she did what she did. “I just...I wanted,” she stammers out. She bites her lip to stop the words. Lucy stuttered. Quinn doesn’t.
“You wanted what?” Santana’s eyes are wild as they scan her face.
Quinn remembers her decision to never be afraid of Santana and just like that, her mask slips down and her eyes boldly meet Santana’s. “You. I wanted you.”
The kiss is bruising her plush lips before she’s even seen Santana move. She pulls Quinn from the door and pushes her down onto the full-size bed, straddling her waist.
It isn’t until Santana’s fingers are reaching deep inside of her that she remembers why this was only supposed to be a two-time thing.
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