Hold Me Back and Make it Last: Chapter 6
Title: Hold Me Back and Make it Last
Author: Kiki
Fandom: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): Jesse/Rachel, Santana/Rachel, Puck/Santana
Rating: M
Word count: 1830
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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Rachel and Jesse's doorman let her in with a polite nod. She always expected doormen to be snobbish, instead they were usually the nicest people in this city.
After leaving the hospital she realised her big, dramatic exit from work wasn't well thought out.
She didn't even have a clue where Rachel lived.
Luckily she had Mike's number. He told her everything she needed to know and required very little explanation. He didn't ask why she didn't just call Jesse, or why her voice was high and unhappy, just gave her directions and instructions to call him if there was anything else.
She gave a perfunctory knock and was unsurprised when there was no response.
She glanced around the wide hallway, checking for witnesses.
She jumped, one hand swiping over as much of the doorframe as she could manage. The tiny key flew to the ground and Santana brushed herself off before picking it up.
She'd never seen something so stupid before.
Seriously, those guys on World's Dumbest could have figured that one out, and if Santana had trouble reaching the spare key, how was Rachel supposed to?
She called out Rachel's name as she entered the apartment. "Hello!"
The apartment was not what she was expecting from two struggling actors. By all rights Jesse and Rachel should be living out of their car or under a bridge or something, but their apartment was massive. Dark tiles lined the floor and all the furniture was white and minimalist. She was mildly worried she had the wrong place; nothing in here looked like Rachel.
Everything looked empty, so she headed for the one closed door. She knocked again.
She let out a sigh of relief.
Rachel was slumbering peacefully, tucked tightly into her oversized bed. The hum of her air conditioner had probably muffled the ringing and knocking.
"Berry?" Santana stepped closer. She was feeling annoyed with herself for getting worked up over nothing, not too much-checking up on friends was never a waste of time. She wouldn't have pegged Rachel as an afternoon napper. Or a heavy sleeper.
She shook Rachel's shoulder lightly. There was no response.
"Rachel!" she snapped, shaking her harder this time.
Far too slowly for Santana's liking, Rachel drifted awake. Her eyes blinked sluggishly and she made a small sound of protest.
She checked her pulse and her temperature, switching the bedside lamp on to see better.
"San?" Rachel asked, disorientated. Santana was peering into her eyes closely and her hands seemed to be everywhere.
"How do you feel?"
It took Rachel a while to think of the answer. "Hungover?"
Sloe eyes narrowed. Rachel hadn't drunk that much (that she knew of). "Can you sit up for me?"
Rachel just frowned in confusion, but helped as Santana slipped one hand behind her back and forced her to sit.
Santana's breath left her body in a hiss. "Ah, shit, Rachel! What did you do?"
Santana could spot dried blood from a mile and Rachel's pillow had been soaked with it. Rachel's fingers went to her head in surprise. She could feel the sticky substance congealed in her hair, along with the throbbing pain in her head.
Santana pushed her hands gently out of the way. She moved the lamp closer and sorted through Rachel hair. There was a small gash, and swelling that indicated mild trauma. "Let's get to the bathroom."
Rachel nodded. She seemed to remember spending a lot of the night in her en suite anyway. She felt a little unsteady, but made it easily enough to shower.
Santana wrapped a towel around the smaller girl's shoulders to stop her slip from getting wet or cold. "Did you hit your head?"
"Fell" Rachel responded simply.
Santana helped Rachel lower her head under the cool shower without getting the rest of her wet. She let the water run for a while before pulling her out. The wound looked clean. She searched the bathroom cupboards for gauze and made Rachel hold it to her head while she patter her hair dry softly.
She held Rachel's hand and led her back to the bed like she would a small child.
"Do you remember what happened, Rachel?" She took a seat on the bed, tossing the stained pillow to the floor. It was done for.
"I fell and hit my head on the bookcase. I didn't think I hit it that hard."
"Head wounds are like that," she said absently. She searched Rachel's face for a long minute. Her colour was weak, making dark circles below her eyes stand out. Even her cheek looked more swollen again. She had obvious signs of a concussion. "Did you and Jesse fight?"
"Santana-"
"Answer the question, Berry."
Rachel made an unhappy sound, eyes clamping shut. "We had a disagreement. "
"You're coming to my place."
Rachel wormed out of her grip. "I most certainly am not. I know what you're thinking and it's just not true. Jesse would never hurt me. Never. And I know that's some terribly cliché line from a Hallmark movie where the lead is most certainly in denial about suffering some brutal form of abuse, in my case, it's absolutely true."
Santana cocked her head. "Yeah? Then where's Jesse?"
"A workshop? I think, anyway. My memory is a little fuzzy."
"Your memory's a little fuzzy, because you have a fucking concussion! Your boyfriend is nowhere around. And while I'm pretty sure there's something sus going on, I'm damn certain that Jesse is at the very least a criminally negligent asshole."
"Please don't, Santana. Jesse loves me. A lot. Sometimes it makes him insecure. And he's like me. He gets absorbed in his work," she explained. She knew from the outside looking in her and Jesse were flawed, but it wasn't like that.
"Oh fuck this. I'm so out of here." Santana stood. "You think I don't know where this shit leads? I work in the emergency room. I see girls like you day and night. And here's a spoiler, Berry, they don't get the happy ending. "
Rachel grabbed her hand before she could take a step.
Santana knew that nobody could make her do anything, so when she fell to the bed again and was tugged into Rachel's arms it wasn't just the tiny hand pulling at her.
"It's okay, Santana," Rachel whispered, wrapping her arms around the taller girl. "I know you're just worried about me. But I'm fine. I promise."
Santana shook her head, a few hacking breaths alerting her to the fact that she was scarily close to tears. "It's not okay." It wasn't even close to okay. She pulled back slightly. Rachel was being so fucking stupid. She was going to get herself seriously injured. Even more injured than a broken face and mild brain damage.
And Santana was going to get her heart broken in the process, she was fucking sure of it.
She leaned forward, capturing Rachel's plump bottom lip between her lips, one hand moving to cup her face.
She didn't know if it was surprise or what, but Rachel's lips parted and Santana deepened the kiss.
Rachel moved even closer, pressing their breasts tightly together, her arms moved restlessly over Santana's back.
Santana let her weight push Rachel into the mattress. Her stomach was fluttering, and the rest of her body felt warm. She settled her body between Rachel's legs, slipping her tongue against Rachel's to kill any protests.
She pressed open mouthed kisses against Rachel's jaw, down her throat, nibbling on the skin between her neck and shoulder till Rachel's hips jerked towards her.
She was already addicted to the high, strangled moans that left Rachel's throat.
Rachel's fingers tangled endlessly into black locks, and she always meant to stop her, but her body always needed just one more touch.
Santana slid the straps of Rachel's slip down her arms, baring her breasts to the cold air. She slicked her tongue over one tightening nipple, waiting for it to pebble before sucking it into her mouth in a long stroke. Rachel went completely silent, eyes flying wide, incapable of doing anything except arching into the hot mouth.
Santana let the flesh slide from her lips with a wet sound. She sat back, lifting Rachel's slip till it covered her midriff and little else. She trailed her nails over Rachel's thighs, teasingly close to her bikini line. The silky flesh trembled under fingers, thighs spreading unconsciously wider.
She wanted to run her fingers over that thin strip of cotton so fucking much, just to feel the heat and willingness of the girl below her.
But that wasn't part of the plan.
Rachel's arms stretched out and Santana met her lips in another long kiss that only made her hotter. Her hand slipped between their bodies. She sunk her teeth into Rachel's lip just hard enough to make her whimper before pressing her hand over her centre. Almost immediately her panties soaked through and it was Santana's eyes that fluttered shut, and her lips that let out an almost pained sound.
Denying herself was physically painful, but she pulled her hand away.
Rachel looked up at her questioningly, but Santana shook her head before she let herself be pulled into another kiss. "Do you want me Rachel?"
"Yes," she hissed. She'd never wanted anything more than this in her life. Except, maybe, a Tony, but even that could wait till her body wasn't about to catch fire.
"Not just right now, not just for a night, but for, like, real?"
Rachel hesitated for just a second. "I-I don't know." Even that had too many implications. Everything was happening incredibly fast, and her mind wasn't working particularly well. She wasn't even sure what Santana was doing in her apartment.
"Well you gotta decide, okay?" She straightened Rachel's slip out carefully, almost motherly. "Because I won't share, not even for you. Understand?" She would have sounded almost like herself if it wasn't for the rough, husky voice.
Rachel nodded, arms slipping from Santana's neck. Her body was throbbing uncomfortably, but she managed to get out a weak, "I get it."
Santana stole one chaste kiss before standing up, she was well aware that it might be the last they ever shared.
"I have to go now, if I stay we'll have sex and that's probably not a good idea." Santana didn't know what she was doing. Everything felt strangely unreal. But good unreal, like even if she didn't know why she was doing it, she was doing the right thing. "Mike's going to come round and babysit you till I can be sure you won't, like, die of head trauma on my watch. Try to keep yourself alive while I'm gone, okay?"
"I'll do my best," Rachel pulled the covers over her form, finally feeling embarrassed about her state of…well, whatever she was.
Santana walked away, which might have been the bravest thing she'd ever done.
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