Another Pezberry Fic
Title: Idiot Heart Full of Flour
Chapter: One shot
Author: lifeawakening
Pairing Rachel Berry/Santana Lopez [Pezberry]
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Santana and Rachel try to cook dinner, a food fight ensues :) Based off of this prompt at the fluff meme. I hope this is what you wanted!
“Rachel, bring me the dried parsley.”
Rachel cringed towards the herbs as she handed Santana the little glass jar.
“Thanks.”
“Explain to me again how you roped me into cooking what you wanted for dinner tonight.”
Santana stopped chopping the onion and turned around, eyebrow cocked, “For the third time, you invited me over for dinner this Friday night, I came over. Your fathers aren’t home, we made it romantic. I’m the guest, so I’m cooking for you.”
“But,” Rachel’s eyebrows furrowed together, “if you’re cooking me a romantic dinner, Santana, shouldn’t it be my choice?”
“Not in my kitchen.”
“This is my kitchen-”
“Rachel!” Santana yelled, slamming the knife into the onion, “You’re going to make me lose my appetite. If you don’t want to help me cook, even though you aren’t doing anything anyway, feel free to wait for it to be done in the living room.”
Rachel’s mouth dropped open as she sputtered, “Excuse me? I’m not doing anything? Santana Lopez, I have been bringing you ingredients and washing poor, dead, chickens and shredding cheese. Do you see this?” Rachel asked, holding up her index finger that was currently wrapped in a musical note bandage. “This is from grating your cheese, for your enchilada recipe, from your family, from your muhunga suhma-” Rachel cut off and coughed. She wiped the tomato sauce off of her face and, with wide eyes, looked down at her shirt. “You are so lucky that you did not ruin my owl sweater.”
Santana stood, leaning against the counter, a pot of tomato sauce in her hand and a smirk on her face, “I wouldn’t exactly consider that lucky.”
Rachel’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, so now you don’t like my owl sweater? What if I said that I didn’t like your ridiculously tight blouse and skirt that you chose to wear tonight?”
Santana rolled her eyes and wiped her hands on her apron, “You’d be lying, Berry. You know you’re hot for my ass in this skirt. And if I’m being honest, I may hate your owl sweater but I don’t necessarily hate it on-” Poof. Santana opened her eyes as her mouth gaped. She wiped the flour off of her eyelids and scanned her body, seeing that she was thoroughly covered with flour. Rachel stood before her, a bag of flour in her hand and a guilty, yet adorable, expression adorning her face. She did her trademark show choir smile, yet Santana merely stood and stared at her.
Rachel didn’t falter, “Now San, you do understand that I was fully within my rights to pelt you with flour. At least I chose something that washes off as opposed to the bright red tomato sauce that you used on me.”
Santana looked like a ghost to Rachel, with her face being covered in flour and all, and so it was only natural that it scared Rachel slightly when Santana smiled. “You’re right, Rach. We’re even now. Except…” Santana paused, picking up the open jar of taco sauce, “there’s just one thing, baby. This bitch doesn’t play to get even.” Santana was now flush against Rachel, whispering in her ear. And even though Rachel knew what was coming, her teenage body betrayed her because really, who would move away when your hot, cheerleader girlfriend has decided to press herself against you? Rachel cringed as taco sauce rolled over her eyes and down her cheeks as she heard, “I play to win.”
If falling in love with Santana Lopez - and having her kiss away every break that was in Rachel’s heart from every slushy attack that ever happened, and then subsequently ordering every jock in the school to have a slushy facial each day for a year - hadn’t healed her, Rachel might have sobbed from the similarities between this taco sauce onslaught and her prior slushy ones. However, Santana Lopez had healed Rachel Berry’s heart, and then some, so Rachel only thought to react.
“I think you forget,” Rachel whispered back into Santana’s ear, “who you’re dating. I’m Rachel Berry, and I. Never. Lose.” Rachel punctuated perfectly, licking the taco sauce from her lips which caused a shudder to pass over Santana’s body. Rachel took advantage of this moment to pull back, grab a fistful of the first thing she could, and fling it into Santana’s face, all in one fluent motion. Unfortunately for Rachel, that thing was chili powder.
Suddenly Santana was sneezing and yelling Spanish words that Rachel had never heard of. She stepped back and folded her hands over her stomach, “Santana… I am so sorry.” Rachel hesitated in speaking again, and was incredibly thankful for her years in stage acting because she was able to hold in the insane laughter that was bubbling up inside of her.
Santana finally raised her head and looked at her, a murderous glint in her eye. “Berry,” she growled.
“You shouldn’t call your girlfriend by her last name,” Rachel kindly pointed out.
Santana snapped, grabbed the first thing that came into her sweeping hand, and tossed it at Rachel. Salt. Rachel blinked a few times but kept her straight posture. She made a noise low in her throat and fought the smirk on her face. It didn’t work, however, and suddenly Rachel was doubled over in laughter.
Santana stood at the counter, eyeing Rachel who was covered in taco sauce, tomato sauce, and now salt. The corners of her mouth crept up on her as she watched her girlfriend laughing freely. Santana would only drop her pride and defensive walls around Rachel, so she allowed herself to laugh with her girlfriend. “You look like a wet yeti.”
Rachel put her hand over her heart as she laughed, “At least I don’t look like an albino cheerleader.”
Santana scoffed and grabbed the tub of sour cream. Rachel’s eyes widened, but before she knew it she was feeling cold sour cream dripping down her face and onto her chest. Rachel grabbed the bowl of egg yolks from the counter and tossed them onto Santana. Santana pulled off part of the sticky yolk from her chest and threw it onto Rachel.
This went on for another ten minutes.
------------------------------------
Rachel sat at the kitchen table, a towel under her butt and her body thoroughly coated in enchilada ingredients. Santana walked back into the kitchen, a pizza in her hand and fifteen dollars lighter. She beamed ad Rachel through her food coating, “The look that the pizza dude gave me for this made it so worth it.”
Rachel handed Santana her plate as Santana sat down on her own towel clad chair. “I really am sorry though, you know,” Rachel voiced, while picking at her pepperoni.
Santana shrugged while taking a bite and mumbling, “Coach is gonna kill me for this. No but,” she swallowed, “don’t be sorry. I’ll deny this later, but you owning me in there was hot as hell.”
Rachel cocked an eyebrow and set down her half eaten piece of pizza, “It was?”
Santana smirked, “It was. Sure, I won’t admit defeat back there, but I can’t say that I won, either.”
Rachel leaned close to Santana and sighed dramatically, “I just wish I could have tasted your enchiladas. You made them seem like they would have been heavenly.”
Santana was momentarily (or completely) thrown off by Rachel’s voice against her cheek as she roughly swallowed another bite of pizza. “Yeah, well, yeah. Maybe next time you’re over at my house, you can try ‘em.”
Rachel pretended to ponder over this before smiling wickedly, “Or… I can just taste them now.” Santana’s eyebrow shot up and her smirk intensified as Rachel kissed down Santana’s jaw. That was when Santana decided that they needed a shower to clean themselves up. Only after, of course, Rachel had insisted on making sure their clothes would be properly cleaned so that nothing would be ruined.