Hold Me Back and Make it Last: Chapter 3
Title: Hold Me Back and Make it Last
Author: Kiki
Fandom: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): Jesse/Rachel, Santana/Rachel
Rating: T
Word count: 2087
Spoilers: None, futurefic
Summary: Santana's working the late shift in the ER when Rachel comes in, needing help in more ways than one.
Disclaimer. None of this is mine.
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She opened her door and really couldn't stop the slow smile that stretched across her face. "The fuck are you doing here?"
Puck matched her grin, stepping across her threshold. He lifted her from her feet in a rib-cracking hug. "Looking good, doc."
"Yeah, well, you look like a fucking tool. You here to tell me 'bout the good word of our Lord and Saviour, or some shit?" She gave his suit and perfectly cropped hair the scornful look it deserved.
Puck's smile didn't dim. "See, how can I stay away when you treat me so good?"
Santana trailed him as he tossed his overnight bag carelessly into her bedroom and proceeded to throw himself onto her couch, flicking the television on like he had an invite. "And to repeat, what the fuck are you doing here?"
"I called," he grunted, flipping unhappily through the channels till he found ESPN.
"Did not!" Santana smacked his legs till he grudgingly made enough room for her.
"I was gonna," he amended. "Finally got some time off and I knew you'd be missing me."
That didn't even deserve a roll of her eyes. "You still sell your pussy-weak mix drinks?" Santana liked to make fun of him, but she was actually pretty impressed that he'd become some big-shot brand representative and flew all around the world. Of all the old crew, he probably had the most exciting life. Except, maybe, Brittany who danced around the world and had never looked back.
"As long as they keep paying me the big bucks. You still get to play with chicks' boobs?" For a moment he managed to tear himself away from the television.
"Breast exams aren't that exciting." It felt like the millionth time she'd told him.
Puck just shook his head and turned back to the ball game. "You've changed, Lopez."
"Oh! Oh, I've changed? Don't think I don't know what you're doing here, Puckerman." She poked his ribs with an unimaginably bony finger.
Puck frowned, rubbing at his side. "Told ya'. Time off. Wanted to get a physical and you're the only one who gives 'em with a happy ending."
She continued unfazed, having already heard every one of his "playing doctor" jokes, "So it's just a coincidence that your holidays coincide with the opening of a certain play?"
His eyes lit, caught red-handed with cookies. "You wouldn't understand. Jews gotta stick together." He didn't even try to sound serious.
She snorted. "Yeah, why don't you ever visit your mamá, then?"
"Did. Stopped over on my way here."
Santana hesitated, not really sure if she wanted to know. "How is Lima?" she asked quietly.
"Like livin' in a fourth dimension where time doesn't exist. I swear a sign I stole in seventh is still missing. Mercedes opened another salon. Her and Sam are still going good." He paused. "Finn and Quinn got another on the way."
"Shit, can the world afford their passel of pretty idiots to grow?"
Puck shrugged, smiling a little. "They got some cute kids."
"I said they were pretty! Still dumber than dirt, though." Santana knew it was still a touchy subject. Quinn and Puck had dated for three years after high school before she left him for Finn. It was a shitty move, but Puck had shrugged and only said karma was a bitch. Santana was pretty sure Quinn was the bitch, but if Puck wanted to play big-man about his heart, then whatever, not her business.
"You know Berry's not singing anymore?" she asked experimentally. If Rachel was even thinking about still performing, she was going to have to put the beat down on someone.
Puck went quiet. "Yeah she called. She talked about your 'exceeding brilliance' and 'skill beyond comparison'. Apologized like crazy when she found out I'd already got time off."
"So why don't you stay with Berry, if you've got such a hard-on for show tunes?"
Puck scoffed. "Are you joking? Jesse wouldn't give me ice in the arctic. He'd kill me before he let me stay with them. I know Rachel used to fight with him so I could, but their limit for drama would blow the minds of us mere mortals. Me and Jesse would fight, Rachel would end up crying, and I'd end up in a hotel anyway." He shook his head. "He doesn't trust me around Rachel."
Santana laughed. It was the first smart thing she'd heard about him. "Should he?"
"Fuck no! But he doesn't trust anyone with her. And he doesn't trust her."
Santana nodded in understanding. "So what are you going to do here?"
He shot her a heavy-lidded glance "Get laid." Santana rolled her eyes. Even for Puck that was unsubtle. "Figured I could still come and see Chang's choreography and check out what shit St. Fucktard pulled this time."
"As much as I'd like the excuse to kick his ass, I'm pretty sure it was an accident."
"I bet. Accidents happen around St. James."
Santana cocked her head. "Meaning?"
Puck glanced at her. "You really have been out of Berry's loop of crazy." Santana just shrugged. It was true enough, but now that she was in it once again, it really felt like she'd never left. "Why do you think Rachel is still playing second string in B-grade plays?"
"It's a competitive industry." Everyone knew that.
"Not that competitive. Ain't nothing more competitive than Rachel when she wants something." He met her eyes evenly, the most serious she'd seen him all night.
"I'm not getting it."
"No one will hire her. After college, hell, during college, people in the right circles knew how good they were. Everyone thought Rachel and Jesse would hit stardom so fast they'd burn out by twenty-five. Alone Rachel was, is, something special. With Jesse she's spectacular." Puck frowned, lost in some thought of his own.
Santana really hated hearing how good Rachel and Jesse were together. "What happened?"
"Jesse. The minute they left college they were getting good roles, but Jesse got a reputation for being difficult to work with. I didn't really get it. I mean, working with Rachel would make my ears bleed, but St. James is something else. He got in arguments with cast members. A fistfight with a director. He threw a chair at a guy 'cause he missed an E flat. There are rumours too; that he's sabotaged people to get their roles. I don't know. All I know is that he's blacklisted from every decent production and as long as Rachel performs with him, she is too," Puck finished solemnly.
"Why does she?" Santana could almost understand why Rachel was engaged to him. Smurfette had God-awful taste and a penchant for falling in love with the idea of people, but that didn't mean they had to work together.
Puck gave a Gallic shrug, already turning back to his game. "Good luck figuring out why Rachel Berry does anything. But, if you want my advice, don't ask her, not if you don't want some seventeen hour lecture on trends in theatre."
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"Santana, I wasn't expecting your expertise today!" Rachel chirped when Santana appeared in her examination room.
Santana had had to pull some serious strings, but like hell would she be admitting that. "That's Dr. Lopez to you."
Rachel's face fell. "It was a joke, Berry. Jeez, you are legit more uptight than Thatcher getting a lap dance."
Rachel smiled cautiously before accepting Santana's words as truth. "I hope you know that metaphor is completely nonsensical, Dr. Lopez."
"Yep, now get up on the examination table. If you can."
"Ha. Ha." Rachel made sure to walk her straightest, revelling in the one inch advantage she had over Santana in her four inch heels.
Santana was vaguely annoyed that Rachel had chosen today to graduate from The Shire, but Rachel's legs under her pencil skirt more than made up for it.
As she hopped onto the table, Santana froze, eyes widening as her hands flew up in caution.
"What? What is it!" Rachel cried.
Santana shrugged, pulling out a notepad nonchalantly. "Just making sure the table held."
"That's awful, Santana," Rachel pouted.
"You're an idiot. Eat a fucking sandwich, 'cause I got news, If they don't hire you at one-oh-five, they ain't going to be hiring you at ninety-five," she replied bluntly. Rachel crossed her arms and remained stoic for all of five seconds.
Except for the puffiness around the eye, Santana couldn't see any visible signs of the break. All those years of stage make-up must have finally paid off. She listed off diagnostic questions before moving onto the physical.
Rachel was still rattling on about some lame soapie. "My friend, Greta, is very close with the casting director and-"
"Berry, enough!" Feeling facial bones for irregularities was not meant to be done when they were moving a mile a minute. "You're not going to Pied Piper me out of a job like you did Mike."
Rachel sucked in a sharp breath, hands flying to her mouth. "I did no such thing!"
"Sure, the Asian with a finance degree is dancing for the prestige." Everyone knew how Rachel had plied her insanity all over Mike at UCLA till the poor boy was just another starving actor with disappointed parents.
"That's ridiculous. How could Mike be stuck behind a desk, playing with numbers all day?" She made a pained sound. "People with Mike's talent need to be on stage. For talent like that to go unnoticed would be sacrilegious!" Rachel's eyes burnt with a ferocity that would cower anything in its path.
Santana just smirked, tracing her fingers along Rachel's jaw. "So why exactly should I be joining the cast of Murphy's whatever?"
Rachel blinked slowly, the answer seeming obvious. "Because you are just that beautiful. The world should appreciate that. They should at least be given the chance."
Santana's hands stilled. It's not as if she didn't know she was hot. Everyone knew it. But what Rachel had said, the way she had said, it made her mind go blank, and her fingers burn where they rested against Rachel's face. She wasn't even thinking when she leant down and touched Rachel's lips to her own.
It shouldn't have meant anything; it was barely even a kiss. But without looking she felt Rachel's body straining towards her own, as if the girl was fighting every molecule not to press their bodies together. Santana's body couldn't even think that far ahead. She just wanted to open her mouth and truly taste the girl in front of her, slip their tongues together just to see what it would feel like, capture her bottom lip to see what Rachel's moan sounded like, force their lips together just to take the edge off the heat travelling through her body.
In the end, she pulled back and smiled toothily, like her mind could still function and her whole body wasn't flushed and tingling.
Rachel gripped onto the exam table like her life depended on it, and it just might, because she's not sure what Santana would have done if she launched herself at her like some touch-starved spider monkey. She pulled out an indignant show face. "Honestly, Santana, that was incredibly inappropriate. I hope your bedside manner is usually less tactile when you're at work."
Santana would have been more offended if she couldn't feel the way Rachel's skin trembled under her fingertips. "I'm working on it." Rachel nodded, finding that answer sufficient. She would remind herself that Santana had boundary issues and never think of this again.
When they were nearly done, Santana casually mentioned that Puck had turned up on her doorstep. She didn't miss the way Rachel's eyes lit. She'd really have to figure out what was with those two, because Santana Lopez did not play second choice to anyone, especially not to her favourite fuck buddy.
The offer came out of nowhere. She and Puck hadn't even made plans, but she just had the urge to keep Rachel close, at least for one more night. "Come out with us. We might even get you a lap dance, Thatcher."
"Was that an offer?"
Santana just chuckled.
Rachel bit her lip before slowly sucking it into her mouth when she noticed the unfamiliar taste. She really shouldn't. There was no way Jesse would say yes. "…I'd have to be home early."
Santana's smile was small and victorious. Getting her own way was a brilliant thing. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she lied with little talent.
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