Head Full of Doubt, Road Full of Promise (5/8)
Title: Head Full of Doubt, Road Full of Promise (5/8)
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Rachel/Quinn; Rachel/Finn
Rating: Finally NC-17. High-five!
Spoilers: Up through "Sectionals"
Word Count: 7,410
Description: Rachel's answer to Quinn's melancholia is to take her on a summer road trip with the gleeks.
Note: The characters are fake, but the places are real. All the attractions mentioned in this story are actual places, if you ever find yourself on a cross-country road trip.
Previous Parts:
[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4]
Springer, NM
It had to happen sooner or later.
"We have to go home." Brittany looked incredibly dejected. It's been a week since the others left. It's been one day shy of three weeks since they left Lima.
"We can't keep up anymore," Santana said. "It's been fun, but we're burning a hole through our savings." Mike nodded gravely.
"And I miss Tina." Artie said miserably.
"I understand." Rachel remained peaceful and unperturbed. "Noah?"
"I'm cool."
"Very well. This will be simple. In the morning, Santana will take Brittany, Mike and Artie back to Lima. The rest of us can continue on-"
"Rachel," Artie broke in. "Why don't you guys just come back with us?" Quinn decided that this was a good time to play with her food. She pushed her peas around her dinner plate, resolutely avoiding eye contact with everyone else.
"Artie's right. This is getting stupid," Santana declared mercilessly. "You guys can't keep driving in circles forever. Time to shape up, Fabray. I know Lima sucks, but you have to face the music sooner or later." Quinn thought that later would be preferable to sooner.
"Quinn." Brittany placed her hand over Quinn's. "You know you don't have to go back to your house. You can stay with me if you want to." Rachel jealously thought that if Quinn were to stay with anyone, it should be with her. But that was neither here nor there. She had a plan to stick to.
"We appreciate your concern, but we'll be fine. Isn't that right, Noah?"
Grudgingly, Puck nodded. "We got this."
***
Albuquerque, NM
Puck said that it would be stupid to get two rooms now that there were only three of them left, and he was right. As usual, he broke out the liquor as soon as he stepped through the door and set his bag down. Rachel and Quinn drank, but with more caution than they were used to. Rachel was afraid that Puck would try something, and that she'd let him. She already felt dirty for having phone sex with Finn and making out with Quinn; Rachel wasn't a prude, but adding a third person to her romantic repertoire would definitely be pushing the limits of her personal ethical boundaries. Quinn, on the other hand, had no such fears. Having made that mistake once, she knew that she wasn't going to succumb to Puck's charms regardless of how drunk she was. But she did have a history of doing inappropriate things while under the influence of alcohol, and she didn't want to molest Rachel in front of Puck.
But despite their caution, all three of them ended up fairly blitzed within a couple of hours. And now Puck flopped down on the bed where Rachel and Quinn already lay, squeezing himself in between the two girls.
"What are you doing?" Quinn's tone was so sharp that you could draw blood from its edge.
"Resting," Puck said easily.
"Well, rest over there on your own bed, caveman."
"Too far." An impish smirk on his face, Puck placed his hand on Rachel's thigh. Rachel responded with a confused, silly grin. Quinn shot up straight. She grabbed Puck's hand and flung it aside.
"Keep your hands off her," she hissed.
"Oh, come on! She likes it, don't you, Rachel?"
Rachel looked back and forth at Quinn and Puck, not knowing what to say. Yes, she had to admit, she kind of liked it simply because she's a teenage girl and Puck's an attractive guy. But even in her inebriated state, she could tell that it wasn't the right answer to give. Luckily, Quinn responded before she could.
"She doesn't. Leave us alone, Puck."
"What's the big deal?" he whined. "Why can't we have a little fun?"
"Because, moron, I got pregnant the last time we 'had a little fun'."
"You can't get pregnant with the same person twice."
Quinn really, really wanted to smack him.
"I'm not Finn, you jackass. I actually understand how reproduction works."
Rachel squinted at them. She was having a really difficult time following what was happening.
"Did Noah get Finn pregnant too?"
"Don't be stupid." Quinn didn't mean to be snap at Rachel. It was just that Puck had her so worked up. When Rachel's brows furrowed in hurt and confusion, Puck saw the opportunity to wrap his arm around her shoulder in comfort.
"It's okay," he said soothingly. "She didn't mean it."
"She knows I didn't mean it!" Quinn exploded. "Now get your fucking hands off her! I'm not going to ask again!"
"Okay, okay," Puck murmured, taking his arm away. "All right, look, I don't even have to be involved, okay? I'll just be over here and you two girls can, you know, just do what you normally do." Unconsciously, he licked his lips. Rachel giggled. Quinn groaned with disgust.
"We don't do anything, Puck. Now get back in your own bed. And if you come back over here, I swear to our Lord Jesus Christ that I will castrate you in your sleep."
Puck scrambled off the bed as fast as was humanly possible.
***
Las Cruces, NM
"We saw the Abrams at synagogue," one of Rachel's dads said to her on the phone. "They told us that Artie came home. Isn't it about time you did the same?"
Rachel spoke to her fathers every other day. She kept them in the loop about where she was and what she was doing. Although not everything that she was doing. She doubted that her parents would approve of the nightly drinking, and while they wouldn't care about the making-out-with-Quinn part, that was something she wanted to keep to herself for the time being, especially since she wasn't exactly sure what she and Quinn were really doing. She also hadn't told them about California. She knew that they would certainly disapprove of that plan.
"I'm fine, Daddy."
"Rachel, you know that your Dad and I have always trusted you. And we're so proud of you for taking such a vested interest in the welfare of your friend." Rachel's fathers had gotten to know Quinn quite well over the summer, thanks to the endless hours the girl spent camped out on their couch. It wasn't difficult to see that she was in pain. They wanted to help her, and they were happy when Rachel suggested a trip to cheer her up. But that was before this trip evolved into a series of endless detours all over the country.
"I think that we've been more than lenient with you about this trip. But it's time that you started thinking about coming back."
"I can't right now," Rachel pleaded. "Quinn's getting so much better these days, she really is. I just need a little bit more time."
"How much time?"
"Oh, Daddy, you can't ask me to put a time frame on someone's mental health recovery."
"You know what I meant, young lady." Rachel's Daddy sounded unusually stern.
"Daddy," Rachel whined. It was manipulative, but she knew that her whiny little-girl voice always got her fathers to cave in. As expected, he sighed softly in resignation.
"Honey, I don't think this trip is what Quinn needs. Quinn needs to see a therapist. I know that you have some concerns-"
"She's never going to agree to it!" Rachel's voice overlapped her daddy's, but his booming voice overpowered hers.
"-your Dad and I have found some excellent counselors willing to work with her on a sliding scale. And if that still presents a problem, we're more than happy to contribute if Quinn will let us."
"She won't agree to it, and neither will her parents. They just want to forget that any of this ever happened."
"Exactly why that entire family is in need of therapy," her Daddy replied sardonically. "It won't hurt you to try. You're her friend. She might listen to you. You and I both know that Quinn's problems aren't going to go away because you take her out for a very long drive."
"I know, but..." But she had a plan, damn it. She knew that she couldn't make everything better, but she firmly believed that Quinn would be a little bit happier if she could only see her daughter again. "Look, I'll speak with her after we get back to Lima. I promise."
And like that, Rachel weaseled out of giving her fathers a firm end date to her trip. But she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold them off for much longer.
***
Roswell, NM
"This is ridiculous," Quinn said. At Rachel's insistence, they visited the International UFO Museum and Research Center. Presently, Rachel was excitedly snapping pictures of a prop alien dummy lying on a gurney with a medical-uniform-clad dummy standing next to it. "You know that this stuff is fake, right?"
"Of course I do," Rachel said. "It's obviously a replica."
"No, a replica suggests that there was something to replicate. This is just made up."
"How do you know?"
"You're kidding me." Quinn stared incredulously at the brunette. "You think that little green men crashed an UFO here 50 years ago?"
"Certainly not," Rachel replied. "As you can see quite clearly from this replica, they were gray, not green."
"Aliens did not visit this planet, Rachel."
"How do you know?"
"There's no evidence!"
"Well, no, not after the government cover-up."
"There was no cover-up!"
"How do you know?"
"Stop saying that!" Quinn threw her hands up in frustration. "Puck, help me. You're with me on this, aren't you?"
"I guess," he shrugged carelessly.
"Well, what do you think?"
"I dunno," he shrugged again. "What do I care? Doesn't affect me."
"It's like talking to a tree," Quinn griped. "A very stupid tree."
"He's entitled to his opinion," Rachel interjected.
"That's just it. He doesn't even have an opinion. He has no opinions on anything besides football."
"That's not true," Puck said. "I have opinions on boobs."
"There? You see?" Rachel nodded. "Don't underestimate Noah."
"Nevermind," Quinn sighed. "You're right. Aliens have visited this planet. In fact, I think they're living amongst us and one of them is named Rachel Berry." Rachel appeared utterly unfazed. In terms of insults, this was one of Quinn's tamer ones. As they moved on to the next exhibit, Rachel sidled up to Quinn, looped their arms together and whispered in her ear,
"Does that mean you think I'm out of this world?"
Quinn blushed furiously, but Rachel noticed that she didn't deny it.
***
Santa Fe, NM
"-I want to feel your mouth around me, sucking me off. It feels amazing. You've got such an amazing mouth." Rachel's hand worked furiously as Finn's voice poured in, his words filling her with desire and a vague sense of shame. She hated herself a little bit, but she couldn't stop. Puck and Quinn had gone out to pick up dinner. She told them that she needed to call her dads. Obviously, that didn't happen.
She was close now, but she needed that extra push to bring her over the edge. She slid her fingers in and out of her opening, the palm of her hand rubbing hard against her clit. It wasn't happening. She let out a half-frustrated groan.
"Everything okay?"
"Keep going," Rachel rasped.
"I want to be inside you. I bet you'd feel amazing."
Rachel made a mental note to get Finn a thesaurus. She groaned again. This line of thinking was distracting and not at all helpful. She needed to get off, not give a silent lecture of the English language to Finn Hudson - who was really a very sweet boy, but woefully uncreative in the art of seduction. She knew that this had to happen soon because he wasn't going to last much longer. And once he was done, the whole thing was done. Finn wasn't a selfish guy, but his dirty talk suffered significantly when he wasn't horny. He became self-conscious and stuttered, and that definitely wasn't a turn-on. So it was going to be now or never. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, picturing Finn on top, pumping in and out of her. Sometimes that was enough. Tonight it wasn't. So she turned to the one image that she knew always worked. Quinn, her blonde hair wild splayed, her head in between Rachel's legs as her tongue swirled and her lips sucked. Rachel bucked as she came.
"Ohgodohgod!"
She heard the sound of the door opening.
"Oh god!"
"Rachel?" came Finn's voice over the line.
"I have to go." She hurried snapped her phone shut as Puck stepped through the door, carrying a bag full of Chinese take-out. He took one look at her, and she knew that he knew. At first, he looked intrigued and aroused. But as his eyes drifted to the cell phone that she had just dropped, realization dawned on him and the look on his face shifted into one of contempt. Maybe even of disgust.
"Quinn went to the vending machine," he said flatly. "She's getting you a Snickers for dessert."
"Noah..."
"Go get cleaned up," he interrupted. "Time for dinner." Under the ruse of unpacking the food, he avoided looking at her.
"I didn't do anything wrong." But her voice was shaky.
"Go get cleaned up," he repeated. "She's going to be back soon."
Rachel slid off the bed, and unsteadily started for the bathroom. She paused by its entrance.
"Please don't tell her."
"I thought you weren't doing anything wrong." Rachel didn't know what to say, not that Puck was expecting otherwise. He took the last carton out of the bag and savagely crumpled the empty bag in his hands. He glanced back at her. "I've been keeping a lot of fucking secrets for you lately."
"I know," she said quietly. His eyes drifted to her arm. It's been nearly two weeks, and the bruise was gone, but he stared at it as if he could still see it.
"We're even."
"We always were, Noah."
Puck didn't say anything more. He kept her secret.
***
Durango, CO
Puck didn't touch either of them after the first night. But he did get into the habit of finding a reason to leave the room (running to the store for chew, taking a phone call, going for a jog) only to burst back in after a few minutes. He always ended up looking disappointed when he found the girls doing something completely innocuous.
"What the hell, Puck?" Quinn finally demanded. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Nothing!" He looked as guilty as a child caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.
"Then why do you keep running in and out of the room?"
Puck's face twisted into hilarious contortions as he tried to come up with a plausible excuse. In the end, he just gave up.
"I wanted to walk in on you two making out."
"Noah!" Rachel admonished with no real bite to it. Quinn, on the other hand, promptly lobbed her book at Puck's head. She missed.
"We do not make out!"
"Seriously, Fabray? You're still running that line?"
"We. Do. NOT. Make. Out!" Quinn's face was flushed red from rage. Rachel was a little afraid that she was going to fly across the room and start strangling Puck.
"Whatever," Puck scoffed. His phone buzzed, and he reached into his pocket, pulling it out to look at the display. "It's my mom. This might take a while." He stepped outside to take the call. After he left, Quinn turned to Rachel, shaking her head.
"Watch. In two minutes, he'll come bursting in."
But he didn't. He didn't come back at all.
***
In the morning, they found him in the diner across from the motel. He was bowed over a cup of black coffee, his head heavily propped up by the fists resting at his temple. He looked so weary and sad that the girls couldn't muster up the strength to scold him for staying out all night. Rachel rushed over and instinctively wrapped her arms around him, which made Quinn felt a sharp jolt of jealousy, but she wisely decided that this wasn't the time for that.
"It's my mom," Puck said hoarsely. "She took a fall."
"How bad is it?" asked Quinn quietly.
"She's okay. She broke her foot though." He drew a sharp breath. "I gotta go. I gotta go back to Lima. My mom has to stay off her feet for a few weeks, which means that she can't work, so... so I have to get back and help pay the bills and take care of my sister."
This time, Rachel didn't quite know what to do. She had anticipated the departure of their friends, but she had more or less counted on Puck being there the whole way through. If not for her, then certainly for Quinn. Rachel didn't have a back-up plan for this one.
"So..." Quinn started slowly. "What do we do now?"
Silence at the table. Rachel was reasonably sure that Quinn would go along with whatever plan she came up with, by virtue of the fact that Quinn really, really didn't want to go back to Lima. And Rachel was still set on the plan being California. They were so close now. Bakersfield was maybe fourteen, fifteen hours away. It seemed foolish to turn back for Lima now. Trouble was: no Puck, no car.
As if reading Rachel's thoughts, Puck dug into his pockets and produced the keys to his truck. He set it down on the table, his hand still on top of the keys.
"You can take my truck."
"But Noah-"
"Under one condition," he projected over Rachel's voice. "That Quinn says it's okay to go where you want to go."
Rachel visibly swallowed. Her eyes darted to Quinn, whose face was maddeningly blank and inscrutable. Rachel turned back to Puck. He read her fears easily. Anyone could.
"It's time, Rachel," he said gently. "Tell her."
"What is it?" Quinn asked. Neither of them answered her. They stared at one another, locked in a wordless battle of wills. Frustrated by the silence, Quinn added, "Are you two talking about going to Bakersfield?"
Their reactions, Quinn had to admit, were deeply satisfying. Both turned to her with wide, shocked eyes, their jaws slightly agape. Rachel started stammering nonsense. Quinn found all of it immensely amusing; however, it only felt right to explain herself to them.
"Rach, we share the same room and you leave your crap lying around everywhere," she said mildly. "You're not exactly some criminal mastermind. I found your maps."
"Well, that doesn't prove anything."
"And your nine-page manifesto titled 'Manifesto: How To Get Quinn To California To See Her Daughter And Thereby Release Her From Her Impending Emotional Doom'."
"Okay, that proves something," Rachel muttered.
"You wrote a manifesto?"
"Focus, Noah. We have more important matters at hand," Rachel replied briskly, then turned to Quinn. "You're taking this much better than I expected."
Quinn shrugged. "I've had time to adjust."
"How long have you known?"
"Since Little Rock. It was the night I left the party early. I went back to our room and I found the maps." Quinn felt compelled to add, "I wasn't going through your things. You left the maps sitting out on the bed." And then she went through Rachel's stuff.
"Little Rock?" Rachel was stunned. Arkansas seemed like such a long time ago. But Quinn had known all this time. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Guilt crossed Quinn's face.
"I guess I was..." Quinn hesitated, searching for the right word. "...Stalling. I guess I was stalling. At first I didn't know what to do. I was just busy being angry with you."
"That's why you were mad? I thought it was because of..." Rachel suddenly remembered that Puck, although quiet and tired, was very much still present. "...other stuff." The neck-kissing in the bathroom. The thinly veiled speech she'd given Quinn on a park bench in Eureka Springs.
"Maybe that stuff too," Quinn admitted.
"You two need better codewords," Puck declared. "You don't need to keep saying stuff. You can say it. Sex." Despite the gravity of the situation, he actually managed to smirk.
"We didn't have sex," Rachel said.
"We don't have sex," Quinn emphasized.
"You keep saying that, but-"
"Noah? Can we please focus?"
Puck rolled his eyes, but nodded at Quinn, signaling for her to continue.
"Anyway, I was so busy being mad at you for meddling that I didn't stop to ask myself whether I wanted to go. But then I realized - well, I guess someone helped me realize - that you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. And when I forced myself to think about what you were planning and, I realized that I do want to see her. So I went along with it. But I wasn't ready... and I stalled." If this were a cartoon, a lightbulb would have lit up over Rachel's head.
"That's why we've been driving around in circles!" Despite herself, there was clear awe in Rachel's voice.
How did she not see this earlier? This was why Quinn had heartily endorsed Kurt's plea to stay in Eureka Springs. She was stalling. Why would Brittany want to visit a Liberty Bell made of wheat? Or Matt wanting to visit the birthplace of Kool-Aid? Or Mercedes and the world's largest time capsule; or Artie and the world's largest ball of stamps; or Tina and Carhenge; or Mike and the 72-oz steak and on and on. Every stop came at the suggestion of a different person for no apparent reason. One stop led to another until they had essentially driven in a big circle around the middle of the United States. Now Rachel realized that Quinn must have encouraged - if not downright pushed - them into making these suggestions. Rachel would know. She had spent the first half of the trip doing the exact same thing. She'd been playing a game of Spy v. Spy with Quinn and she didn't even know it. She had to admit that Quinn out-manipulated her by leaps and bounds.
"I don't get it," Puck said blunty. "What's going on?"
"Nevermind," Quinn sighed. "The bottomline is that I do want to go. I want to see her. I'm just... not ready yet." Puck pushed his car keys toward her.
"Take your time," he said.
***
They took Puck to the bus station. It was going to be a two-day bus ride with no less than four transfers. Puck insisted that it was perfectly fine.
"This is nothing," he scoffed with much bravado. "It's good training for when I'm a rock star one day and living out of my tour bus." At the station, he gave Quinn a long hug.
"Give our girl a kiss from me," he whispered, and she started to cry. Rachel started to tear up as well. That hadn't been Puck's intention. It was hard pretending like he didn't care about not making it to California. But Puck was good at pretending. "So now that I'm giving you my truck, can I at least get a kiss?"
Quinn smiled fondly at him and planted a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. Puck broke into a wide grin.
"I meant a kiss between you two." He unabashedly leered at the girls. Quinn smacked him on the arm. "Ow! What? Just one! One!"
"You're impossible."
When it was almost time to board the bus, Puck told Quinn that he'd forgotten his chew in the truck and asked her to bring it to him. After grumbling about what a disgusting habit it was, Quinn went, leaving Puck alone with Rachel - which was the whole point of Puck 'forgetting' his chew in the first place. See, Puck could be sneaky too.
"Whatever it is that you're not doing wrong with Finn, you need to stop, or you need to tell her. Probably both." No smirk, no grin, no leering. He was actually being serious for once. It was unnerving.
"I don't think that's any of your business," Rachel answered as polite as she could.
"Berry, in case you haven't noticed, everything that happens in this stupid glee club is everyone's business. If it wasn't our business, none of us would have came on this trip and I wouldn't be giving you my truck."
He had a point. She had gotten everyone so tangled up in Quinn's life that it would be disingenuous of her to ask them not to care now. And of course, she knew that what she was doing with Finn was wrong, otherwise she wouldn't feel so guilty about it. Or maybe it was what she was doing with Quinn that was wrong since, technically, she 'went out' with Finn before anything happened with Quinn. At any rate, she didn't look forward to telling Quinn about it. She wasn't sure how she would react. She was afraid of Quinn being upset, but she was even more afraid of Quinn not caring at all.
But for the time being, all she could do was nod and say in a small voice,
"Okay."
But as it turned out, before Rachel even had the chance to tell her, Quinn found out that very night.
***
Grand Junction, CO
When Rachel was in the shower and her phone rang and the display said 'Finn', Quinn knew better than to answer it. But she did it anyway.
"I have my mouth on your nipple," he said before she could speak. Quinn froze. Finn kept talking, describing the filthy things that he'd like to do to Rachel. Things that Quinn had thought about but couldn't bring herself to do. His words poured into her like liquid poison, swirling and polluting her mind until it solidified, transforming into images, stark and horrifying. She felt sick. She ended the call. When she heard it ring again, she fumbled with the buttons until she manage to turn the phone off entirely. She sat there on the edge of the bed, feeling revulsion and rage jockeying for top position inside her. She stayed that way until she heard the sound of the shower being turned off, then she realized that she had to do something. She slowly rose and ambled into the bathroom.
When Rachel stepped out of the shower, she was very surprised to find Quinn leaning against the bathroom counter, holding on to the towel that she needed.
"Quinn!" Rachel yelped, instinctively crossing her arms over herself and shrinking away. "What are you doing?" Quinn suddenly realized that this was the first time she's seen Rachel naked. For a brief moment, she forgot why she came in here in the first place. She couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. But she sure as hell could see.
Rachel definitely noticed. She didn't know what to make of this situation, but she knew three things: 1) Quinn was staring at her naked body; 2) she didn't mind one bit and 3) for the first time since they started this trip, they were totally, utterly, thankfully alone. Slowly, she dropped her arms to her side.
"Quinn? Is everything all right?"
Quinn struggled to find her voice. She only remembered her mission when she realized that she was still clutching Rachel's cell phone. She set the phone down on the counter.
"Finn called."
Rachel's heart lurched, but she struggled to keep her face neutral.
"Oh?"
"He had quite the message for you."
Rachel could feel herself trembling, and it wasn't just because she's still dripping wet and starting to get cold.
"What was it?"
Quinn started to tell her. Her mouth was open, but the words were stuck. All the insults she wanted to hurl, all the obscenities she wanted to scream out, all the anger she wanted to unleash, they just sat lodged in her throat. So instead of telling Rachel the message, she decided to show her instead.
She closed the gap between them in two quick steps, and pushed the brunette up against the wall. She dipped her head down and captured a hardened peak in her mouth. She could feel water droplets sliding off Rachel's breast and onto her tongue. She sucked, hard. She could hear Rachel's moans, sharp, harsh and enthused. She lifted her head, and heard disappointed groans as her mouth left pulled away from soft flesh, then relieved sighs as she switched her focus to the other breast. She rolled her tongue against the underside, lapped at the nipple in short, teasing strokes, all the while feeling heat pooling between her legs. She pressed her fingers hard against Rachel's hips. Her hands roamed the curves, feeling the slick, damp skin.
Then, just as abruptly as she descended, she pulled away, moving quickly for the door. Rachel, her back still pressed up tight against cold linoleum, breathed with staggered gasps. Quinn threw the towel at her, turned on her heel and walked out.
With shaky hands, Rachel toweled herself dry and put on her pajamas, struggling to comprehend what the hell had just happened. Quinn knew about her phone calls with Finn, she could grasp that much. But given her reaction, it was difficult to tell whether she was actually upset about it.
When she exited the bathroom, she found Quinn sprawled out on the bed, watching TV and cradling a bottle of Vodka that Puck had left them. She was watching The Twilight Zone. Rachel approached and gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed.
"If you would like to discuss-"
"No," Quinn cut her off. She took a drink straight from the bottle, then thrust it into Rachel's hands. "Drink." Rachel hesitated. She didn't think that alcohol would be conducive to the heart-to-heart in-depth discussion she and Quinn so badly needed. Quinn sensed her reluctance and hissed at her through gritted teeth, "Just do it, Berry."
So Rachel crawled onto the bed, settled in next to Quinn, and she took a sip. When they drank with Puck, he always mixed the drinks for them. She wasn't used to taking it straight, and she coughed a little at the bitterness. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quinn smirk. She thought that she was being punished. So be it. She took a long drink from the bottle. So the two of them sat on the bed, passing the bottle back and forth, watching The Twilight Zone in silence.
Rachel's head was swimming by the time the episode was over. Quinn set the bottle down on the nightstand, and turned off the TV. Rachel figured that it was time for bed, and she groggily contemplated making her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Her eyelids were fluttering shut when she felt Quinn's hand underneath her shirt. Her eyes snapped open. She was very awake now.
"Quinn?" she whispered.
In response, Quinn rolled her body on top of Rachel's. As the hand underneath Rachel's shirt began to massage gently, Quinn brought her lips to Rachel's. She flicked her tongue across Rachel's lips before delving in, worming inside her mouth, their tongues lapping languidly together. This Rachel knew. This was familiar territory. Quinn wanted a drunken make out session, and Rachel was more than happy to oblige. As usual, she didn't dare push for more. She kept her hands respectably at Quinn's waist, over the clothes; she would lie there and kiss for as long as Quinn wanted to. Rachel was content with this.
But Quinn wasn't. She abruptly pulled away, and before Rachel could protest or comprehend what was happening, she found that her pajama top was being roughly pulled up over her head and yanked off. She shivered lightly at the exposure, but not for long, because Quinn was all over her; all hands and lips in a frenzied exploration of her torso. Rachel moaned as she felt Quinn's mouth, wet and hot against her nipples.
Still, that wasn't enough for Quinn. When she pulled away again, it was to tug her own shirt off, and for the first time, Rachel came to see Quinn's bare breasts. If she wasn't already wet, she certainly would be now. Rachel's hands still rested politely on Quinn's hips. That was unacceptable. Quinn seized Rachel's hands and roughly pulled them up. Rachel got the hint. She cupped the soft mounds in the palm of her hands and experimentally reached out with her thumbs, gently flicking at the stiff nubs. The experiment went well; Quinn arched her back, pushing her hips harder into Rachel's. Her moan was nearly primal.
"Mouth," Quinn gasped. "Now."
Rachel eagerly complied, bolting up and bringing her mouth to Quinn's breast, marveling at the weight, heftiness, the smoothness, and how pleasurable it all was. Her tongue darted out, caressing the tip with circular motions, occasionally introducing just a hint of teeth. Quinn hissed sharply and dug her fingernails into Rachel's shoulders. She couldn't wait any longer. Reaching down, she started pulling at the waistband of her pants and underwear until they're off and flung aside. Then she started on Rachel's remaining wardrobe, fiercely yanking off the rest of her clothes until not a thread remained.
By now, Rachel had realized that this wasn't going to be just another drunken make out session. This was going to be more, much more. She gazed up at Quinn through heavy eyelids, and found the edges of her figure a little blurry. She could feel her head pulsating; everything seemed too loud, too colorful, too disorientated. She was drunk. She never wanted and didn't want now for her first time to be a drunken fuck. But she did want Quinn. She wanted Quinn a lot, and the thought of Quinn being her first was too good to pass up. Rachel didn't need a pro/con list for this. She knew what she wanted. She didn't really want it to be this way, but if the two of them needed to be drunk in order for her to have Quinn, well, then, so be it.
Besides, it wasn't as if Quinn was asking for permission because the blonde girl had already descended upon Rachel, bringing their naked bodies together in heated fusion as their lips locked together once more. Quinn's hands moved across Rachel's body frantically and urgently, having waited so god damn long for this moment that the pressure from the build-up was unbearable. She delved south. She lightly ran the pad of her fingertips along Rachel's slit, and earned a satisfying pained moan in response. Quinn pushed a finger in, not all the way, but into the folds.
"Ow!" Rachel winced, flinching in pain. Quinn froze, the confusion evident on her face.
"What?"
"Um..." Rachel's cheeks were red, although it was difficult to tell whether that was from the alcohol or the embarrassment.
"What?"
"I- I, um... I- I think it's your fingernails," Rachel stammered out.
"Oh," Quinn said, not comprehending. Then, as realization hit, "Oh!" She quickly withdrew her hand. Her fingernails were long. She had let them grow out on the trip. She certainly hadn't expected to do this kind of thing tonight, and so she hadn't prepared for it beforehand. Tonight, in between her jealous rage and her drunken haze, she overlooked this one little detail. And now dire embarrassment trumped both jealous rage and drunken haze. "Oh, god. I- I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," Rachel responded demurely.
"Um." Quinn was still pressed up against Rachel's very naked body, and quite aware of this fact. If it weren't for the fact that she was ridiculously horny, she would have been too embarrassed to ask this next question. "Do you have nail clippers?"
"Ahh... no. Brittany and Santana did, but..."
"Right. Okay." Reluctantly, Quinn rolled off Rachel, who was left looking mighty disappointed. There were other things that Quinn could have done for Rachel at this point, but frankly, Quinn wasn't ready for that kind of thing, and Rachel wasn't one to push.
***
Interstate 15
The next day, it was as if nothing had happened.
"The Salt Lake Temple looks interesting." In the passenger seat with her bare feet propped up on the dashboard, Quinn was browsing through brochures that they had picked up at the visitor's center. On this day, Quinn was acting normal, which, given the events of the previous night, made it absolutely abnormal. Rachel would've chalked the whole thing up to drunken hallucinations if it weren't for the fact that the two of them had woken up next to each other completely naked.
"You want to visit a Mormon Temple?"
"It's a big tourist attraction. And it looks pretty." Quinn showed her the cover of the brochure. It amazed Rachel how Quinn could go on blithely as she did. "Doesn't it?"
"Sure," Rachel replied noncommittally. Quinn flipped through the rest of the brochures.
"There's also an aviary... A zoo... There's a planetarium... Apparently they also have a seagull monument... Some place called Heritage Park..." Quinn paused in her brochure-flipping to read a sign they just passed. "Hey, Rach, can you pull off at the next exit?"
"Of course."
"I saw a sign for Target."
"Did you need something?"
Quinn looked at Rachel with an incredulous and exasperated expression, as if it should've been perfectly obvious to her, and she was quite silly for even asking.
"Nail clippers."
"...Oh."
***
Salt Lake City, UT
They decided to check in at the hotel first before they did their sightseeing. They agreed that they would take fifteen minutes to rest and freshen up before they headed over to Temple Square for the afternoon.
Naturally, an hour later, they were still in the room and making out on the bed. Neither was sure how it happened, but it seemed to have happened by accident: a step too close led to an accidental brushing which led to bodies leaning in which led to lips meshed together and tangled limbs and stumbling on to the closest soft surface. Their clothes were still intact, but each were dimly aware that that wouldn't be the circumstance for long. Rachel's body felt prickly hot, so much so that the soft cotton of her clothes felt like burlap against her skin. She itched to get out of them, but she waited for Quinn to make the move. The anticipation built and built within her until she was so anxious for it that when Quinn finally pried at the edge of her shirt, she involuntarily jerked at the sensation of Quinn's fingers against her skin.
Quinn pulled back, her hands stopping, uncertain of how to interpret Rachel's startled movement. Rachel saw Quinn's hesitancy, but misread the cause of it. It occurred to Rachel that they've never done this sober. She thought that maybe Quinn was losing her nerve without a little liquid courage.
"Are you all right?"
Quinn nodded faintly. "I- I think so. Are you?"
Now it was Rachel's turn to nod. "Yes, I'm fine."
Neither moved. They were both waiting for the other one to do something. Finally, Rachel spoke up:
"D- did you want something to drink?" Truth be told, she felt a little ashamed for the suggestion. It felt wrong, but when Rachel Berry wanted something this badly, she wasn't above some slightly underhanded tactics. Quinn opened her mouth, like she was trying to find the right answer but she wasn't sure what it was.
"No," she said at last, and Rachel felt a flood of relief. "Do you?" Rachel shook her head.
"We don't have to do this." Rachel's tone was too reluctant to be convincing. "If you're not ready, that is."
"I'm not the virgin here. Shouldn't I be telling you that?"
"Not necessarily. Prior sexual experience doesn't guarantee readiness for the next one, particularly when it's something unfamiliar. Additionally, I'm quite mature with regards to my sexual needs and expectations. I've given the matter a great deal of thought, and I've come to the conclusion that my preparedness for physical intimacy is at an emotional and physical apex. I believe that this is the appropriate-"
"Rachel."
"Yes?"
"This is never going to happen if you don't shut up."
Then Rachel was quiet. To make sure that she stayed that way, Quinn found a good use for her mouth by sealing it with her own. They moved slowly against one another, trying not to break too far apart as they pulled off their clothes and slipped under the covers. For a little while, they just kissed, alternating between gentle and passionate, unhurried and frenzied. At times they pushed against one another as if waging a vicious battle; at other times, they explored each other's bodies with the delicacy of handling a fragile object.
At last, Quinn moved on top, propping herself up on one elbow, her hand tangled through Rachel's thick hair while the other gently caressed the length of Rachel's body until it reached the mound of damp curls. Rachel inhaled a sharp, ragged breath. To calm her, Quinn dipped her head down, capturing the brunette's mouth in a kiss that started soft but that was soon infused with fiery zeal. Slowly, Rachel parted her legs and drew up one knee, wordlessly inviting.
Quinn dipped two fingers into the folds, and Rachel shuddered pleasurably at the sensation. Quinn awkwardly felt around until she reached the small, hard nub she was looking for. She rubbed lightly in a semi-circle, and heard Rachel emit a heavy, pained sigh. Quinn continued this movement, on occasion introducing a light pinch or an up-and-down motion. She looked down in amazement at the expression on Rachel's face: eyes squeezed tight, mouth agape, a slight wince coming on from time to time. Her fingers dipped south, pressing up against Rachel's opening. Rachel opened her eyes. Quinn could feel her body tensing.
"Okay?" she whispered softly. Rachel swallowed perceptibly, but she nodded.
"Okay."
"Are you... are you sure?"
"Yes. Please. Just..." Rachel drew an unsteady breath. "Just one, okay? For now."
"Okay."
"And slow. Please."
"Okay."
Quinn placed a delicate kiss to Rachel's lips and eased in the way she was told. Rachel bit down on her bottom lip. It didn't hurt, but she was still tense from the fact that there was another person doing this to her. It felt so strange and so unfamiliar... and yet, really damn good. Especially when Quinn started moving inside her. Quinn, needing a little contact of her own, swung one leg over Rachel's thigh. She began moving her hips in time with her hand, leisurely and gentle. When Rachel began squirming and panting heavily, she figured that it was okay to go faster and deeper. She pushed in as far as she could, and curled her finger upwards.
"Quinn."
"Do you want me to stop?" She was already slowing down, but Rachel shook her head fiercely.
"No. More," Rachel gasped out. Quinn picked up the speed. "No, more."
"Oh."
Obeying, she slipped a second finger in. Rachel grimaced, but she didn't seem to mind the pain that much because her hips bucked upward. Quinn resumed pumping her fingers in and out, and she pushed her thumb against Rachel's clit. Rachel's hands came to rest on Quinn's shoulder, curling around the back of her neck, as if she were holding on for dear life. Her sighs and moans came more frequently, rising up and up until it reached a crescendo as her body clenched around Quinn's fingers again and again. At the sensation, Quinn angled her hips down hard against Rachel's leg, and she shuddered helplessly against the brunette's body as she cried out,
"Rachel. Rachel. Rachel." Over and over, like a curse or a prayer.
When the last ecstatic wave finally passed, Quinn slowly pulled her fingers out, and settled heavily against the smaller girl, who still had her hands curled about Quinn's neck. Quinn thought about going to the bathroom to clean up, but when she started to move, Rachel griped onto her tightly.
"No," she whimpered. "No, don't go. Please. Stay with me. Please stay."
"Okay." Quinn brushed the brunette's tresses away from her eyes, and placated with her kisses and murmurs of, "Okay okay okay."
Next Part
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Rachel/Quinn; Rachel/Finn
Rating: Finally NC-17. High-five!
Spoilers: Up through "Sectionals"
Word Count: 7,410
Description: Rachel's answer to Quinn's melancholia is to take her on a summer road trip with the gleeks.
Note: The characters are fake, but the places are real. All the attractions mentioned in this story are actual places, if you ever find yourself on a cross-country road trip.
Previous Parts:
[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4]
Springer, NM
It had to happen sooner or later.
"We have to go home." Brittany looked incredibly dejected. It's been a week since the others left. It's been one day shy of three weeks since they left Lima.
"We can't keep up anymore," Santana said. "It's been fun, but we're burning a hole through our savings." Mike nodded gravely.
"And I miss Tina." Artie said miserably.
"I understand." Rachel remained peaceful and unperturbed. "Noah?"
"I'm cool."
"Very well. This will be simple. In the morning, Santana will take Brittany, Mike and Artie back to Lima. The rest of us can continue on-"
"Rachel," Artie broke in. "Why don't you guys just come back with us?" Quinn decided that this was a good time to play with her food. She pushed her peas around her dinner plate, resolutely avoiding eye contact with everyone else.
"Artie's right. This is getting stupid," Santana declared mercilessly. "You guys can't keep driving in circles forever. Time to shape up, Fabray. I know Lima sucks, but you have to face the music sooner or later." Quinn thought that later would be preferable to sooner.
"Quinn." Brittany placed her hand over Quinn's. "You know you don't have to go back to your house. You can stay with me if you want to." Rachel jealously thought that if Quinn were to stay with anyone, it should be with her. But that was neither here nor there. She had a plan to stick to.
"We appreciate your concern, but we'll be fine. Isn't that right, Noah?"
Grudgingly, Puck nodded. "We got this."
***
Albuquerque, NM
Puck said that it would be stupid to get two rooms now that there were only three of them left, and he was right. As usual, he broke out the liquor as soon as he stepped through the door and set his bag down. Rachel and Quinn drank, but with more caution than they were used to. Rachel was afraid that Puck would try something, and that she'd let him. She already felt dirty for having phone sex with Finn and making out with Quinn; Rachel wasn't a prude, but adding a third person to her romantic repertoire would definitely be pushing the limits of her personal ethical boundaries. Quinn, on the other hand, had no such fears. Having made that mistake once, she knew that she wasn't going to succumb to Puck's charms regardless of how drunk she was. But she did have a history of doing inappropriate things while under the influence of alcohol, and she didn't want to molest Rachel in front of Puck.
But despite their caution, all three of them ended up fairly blitzed within a couple of hours. And now Puck flopped down on the bed where Rachel and Quinn already lay, squeezing himself in between the two girls.
"What are you doing?" Quinn's tone was so sharp that you could draw blood from its edge.
"Resting," Puck said easily.
"Well, rest over there on your own bed, caveman."
"Too far." An impish smirk on his face, Puck placed his hand on Rachel's thigh. Rachel responded with a confused, silly grin. Quinn shot up straight. She grabbed Puck's hand and flung it aside.
"Keep your hands off her," she hissed.
"Oh, come on! She likes it, don't you, Rachel?"
Rachel looked back and forth at Quinn and Puck, not knowing what to say. Yes, she had to admit, she kind of liked it simply because she's a teenage girl and Puck's an attractive guy. But even in her inebriated state, she could tell that it wasn't the right answer to give. Luckily, Quinn responded before she could.
"She doesn't. Leave us alone, Puck."
"What's the big deal?" he whined. "Why can't we have a little fun?"
"Because, moron, I got pregnant the last time we 'had a little fun'."
"You can't get pregnant with the same person twice."
Quinn really, really wanted to smack him.
"I'm not Finn, you jackass. I actually understand how reproduction works."
Rachel squinted at them. She was having a really difficult time following what was happening.
"Did Noah get Finn pregnant too?"
"Don't be stupid." Quinn didn't mean to be snap at Rachel. It was just that Puck had her so worked up. When Rachel's brows furrowed in hurt and confusion, Puck saw the opportunity to wrap his arm around her shoulder in comfort.
"It's okay," he said soothingly. "She didn't mean it."
"She knows I didn't mean it!" Quinn exploded. "Now get your fucking hands off her! I'm not going to ask again!"
"Okay, okay," Puck murmured, taking his arm away. "All right, look, I don't even have to be involved, okay? I'll just be over here and you two girls can, you know, just do what you normally do." Unconsciously, he licked his lips. Rachel giggled. Quinn groaned with disgust.
"We don't do anything, Puck. Now get back in your own bed. And if you come back over here, I swear to our Lord Jesus Christ that I will castrate you in your sleep."
Puck scrambled off the bed as fast as was humanly possible.
***
Las Cruces, NM
"We saw the Abrams at synagogue," one of Rachel's dads said to her on the phone. "They told us that Artie came home. Isn't it about time you did the same?"
Rachel spoke to her fathers every other day. She kept them in the loop about where she was and what she was doing. Although not everything that she was doing. She doubted that her parents would approve of the nightly drinking, and while they wouldn't care about the making-out-with-Quinn part, that was something she wanted to keep to herself for the time being, especially since she wasn't exactly sure what she and Quinn were really doing. She also hadn't told them about California. She knew that they would certainly disapprove of that plan.
"I'm fine, Daddy."
"Rachel, you know that your Dad and I have always trusted you. And we're so proud of you for taking such a vested interest in the welfare of your friend." Rachel's fathers had gotten to know Quinn quite well over the summer, thanks to the endless hours the girl spent camped out on their couch. It wasn't difficult to see that she was in pain. They wanted to help her, and they were happy when Rachel suggested a trip to cheer her up. But that was before this trip evolved into a series of endless detours all over the country.
"I think that we've been more than lenient with you about this trip. But it's time that you started thinking about coming back."
"I can't right now," Rachel pleaded. "Quinn's getting so much better these days, she really is. I just need a little bit more time."
"How much time?"
"Oh, Daddy, you can't ask me to put a time frame on someone's mental health recovery."
"You know what I meant, young lady." Rachel's Daddy sounded unusually stern.
"Daddy," Rachel whined. It was manipulative, but she knew that her whiny little-girl voice always got her fathers to cave in. As expected, he sighed softly in resignation.
"Honey, I don't think this trip is what Quinn needs. Quinn needs to see a therapist. I know that you have some concerns-"
"She's never going to agree to it!" Rachel's voice overlapped her daddy's, but his booming voice overpowered hers.
"-your Dad and I have found some excellent counselors willing to work with her on a sliding scale. And if that still presents a problem, we're more than happy to contribute if Quinn will let us."
"She won't agree to it, and neither will her parents. They just want to forget that any of this ever happened."
"Exactly why that entire family is in need of therapy," her Daddy replied sardonically. "It won't hurt you to try. You're her friend. She might listen to you. You and I both know that Quinn's problems aren't going to go away because you take her out for a very long drive."
"I know, but..." But she had a plan, damn it. She knew that she couldn't make everything better, but she firmly believed that Quinn would be a little bit happier if she could only see her daughter again. "Look, I'll speak with her after we get back to Lima. I promise."
And like that, Rachel weaseled out of giving her fathers a firm end date to her trip. But she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold them off for much longer.
***
Roswell, NM
"This is ridiculous," Quinn said. At Rachel's insistence, they visited the International UFO Museum and Research Center. Presently, Rachel was excitedly snapping pictures of a prop alien dummy lying on a gurney with a medical-uniform-clad dummy standing next to it. "You know that this stuff is fake, right?"
"Of course I do," Rachel said. "It's obviously a replica."
"No, a replica suggests that there was something to replicate. This is just made up."
"How do you know?"
"You're kidding me." Quinn stared incredulously at the brunette. "You think that little green men crashed an UFO here 50 years ago?"
"Certainly not," Rachel replied. "As you can see quite clearly from this replica, they were gray, not green."
"Aliens did not visit this planet, Rachel."
"How do you know?"
"There's no evidence!"
"Well, no, not after the government cover-up."
"There was no cover-up!"
"How do you know?"
"Stop saying that!" Quinn threw her hands up in frustration. "Puck, help me. You're with me on this, aren't you?"
"I guess," he shrugged carelessly.
"Well, what do you think?"
"I dunno," he shrugged again. "What do I care? Doesn't affect me."
"It's like talking to a tree," Quinn griped. "A very stupid tree."
"He's entitled to his opinion," Rachel interjected.
"That's just it. He doesn't even have an opinion. He has no opinions on anything besides football."
"That's not true," Puck said. "I have opinions on boobs."
"There? You see?" Rachel nodded. "Don't underestimate Noah."
"Nevermind," Quinn sighed. "You're right. Aliens have visited this planet. In fact, I think they're living amongst us and one of them is named Rachel Berry." Rachel appeared utterly unfazed. In terms of insults, this was one of Quinn's tamer ones. As they moved on to the next exhibit, Rachel sidled up to Quinn, looped their arms together and whispered in her ear,
"Does that mean you think I'm out of this world?"
Quinn blushed furiously, but Rachel noticed that she didn't deny it.
***
Santa Fe, NM
"-I want to feel your mouth around me, sucking me off. It feels amazing. You've got such an amazing mouth." Rachel's hand worked furiously as Finn's voice poured in, his words filling her with desire and a vague sense of shame. She hated herself a little bit, but she couldn't stop. Puck and Quinn had gone out to pick up dinner. She told them that she needed to call her dads. Obviously, that didn't happen.
She was close now, but she needed that extra push to bring her over the edge. She slid her fingers in and out of her opening, the palm of her hand rubbing hard against her clit. It wasn't happening. She let out a half-frustrated groan.
"Everything okay?"
"Keep going," Rachel rasped.
"I want to be inside you. I bet you'd feel amazing."
Rachel made a mental note to get Finn a thesaurus. She groaned again. This line of thinking was distracting and not at all helpful. She needed to get off, not give a silent lecture of the English language to Finn Hudson - who was really a very sweet boy, but woefully uncreative in the art of seduction. She knew that this had to happen soon because he wasn't going to last much longer. And once he was done, the whole thing was done. Finn wasn't a selfish guy, but his dirty talk suffered significantly when he wasn't horny. He became self-conscious and stuttered, and that definitely wasn't a turn-on. So it was going to be now or never. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, picturing Finn on top, pumping in and out of her. Sometimes that was enough. Tonight it wasn't. So she turned to the one image that she knew always worked. Quinn, her blonde hair wild splayed, her head in between Rachel's legs as her tongue swirled and her lips sucked. Rachel bucked as she came.
"Ohgodohgod!"
She heard the sound of the door opening.
"Oh god!"
"Rachel?" came Finn's voice over the line.
"I have to go." She hurried snapped her phone shut as Puck stepped through the door, carrying a bag full of Chinese take-out. He took one look at her, and she knew that he knew. At first, he looked intrigued and aroused. But as his eyes drifted to the cell phone that she had just dropped, realization dawned on him and the look on his face shifted into one of contempt. Maybe even of disgust.
"Quinn went to the vending machine," he said flatly. "She's getting you a Snickers for dessert."
"Noah..."
"Go get cleaned up," he interrupted. "Time for dinner." Under the ruse of unpacking the food, he avoided looking at her.
"I didn't do anything wrong." But her voice was shaky.
"Go get cleaned up," he repeated. "She's going to be back soon."
Rachel slid off the bed, and unsteadily started for the bathroom. She paused by its entrance.
"Please don't tell her."
"I thought you weren't doing anything wrong." Rachel didn't know what to say, not that Puck was expecting otherwise. He took the last carton out of the bag and savagely crumpled the empty bag in his hands. He glanced back at her. "I've been keeping a lot of fucking secrets for you lately."
"I know," she said quietly. His eyes drifted to her arm. It's been nearly two weeks, and the bruise was gone, but he stared at it as if he could still see it.
"We're even."
"We always were, Noah."
Puck didn't say anything more. He kept her secret.
***
Durango, CO
Puck didn't touch either of them after the first night. But he did get into the habit of finding a reason to leave the room (running to the store for chew, taking a phone call, going for a jog) only to burst back in after a few minutes. He always ended up looking disappointed when he found the girls doing something completely innocuous.
"What the hell, Puck?" Quinn finally demanded. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Nothing!" He looked as guilty as a child caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.
"Then why do you keep running in and out of the room?"
Puck's face twisted into hilarious contortions as he tried to come up with a plausible excuse. In the end, he just gave up.
"I wanted to walk in on you two making out."
"Noah!" Rachel admonished with no real bite to it. Quinn, on the other hand, promptly lobbed her book at Puck's head. She missed.
"We do not make out!"
"Seriously, Fabray? You're still running that line?"
"We. Do. NOT. Make. Out!" Quinn's face was flushed red from rage. Rachel was a little afraid that she was going to fly across the room and start strangling Puck.
"Whatever," Puck scoffed. His phone buzzed, and he reached into his pocket, pulling it out to look at the display. "It's my mom. This might take a while." He stepped outside to take the call. After he left, Quinn turned to Rachel, shaking her head.
"Watch. In two minutes, he'll come bursting in."
But he didn't. He didn't come back at all.
***
In the morning, they found him in the diner across from the motel. He was bowed over a cup of black coffee, his head heavily propped up by the fists resting at his temple. He looked so weary and sad that the girls couldn't muster up the strength to scold him for staying out all night. Rachel rushed over and instinctively wrapped her arms around him, which made Quinn felt a sharp jolt of jealousy, but she wisely decided that this wasn't the time for that.
"It's my mom," Puck said hoarsely. "She took a fall."
"How bad is it?" asked Quinn quietly.
"She's okay. She broke her foot though." He drew a sharp breath. "I gotta go. I gotta go back to Lima. My mom has to stay off her feet for a few weeks, which means that she can't work, so... so I have to get back and help pay the bills and take care of my sister."
This time, Rachel didn't quite know what to do. She had anticipated the departure of their friends, but she had more or less counted on Puck being there the whole way through. If not for her, then certainly for Quinn. Rachel didn't have a back-up plan for this one.
"So..." Quinn started slowly. "What do we do now?"
Silence at the table. Rachel was reasonably sure that Quinn would go along with whatever plan she came up with, by virtue of the fact that Quinn really, really didn't want to go back to Lima. And Rachel was still set on the plan being California. They were so close now. Bakersfield was maybe fourteen, fifteen hours away. It seemed foolish to turn back for Lima now. Trouble was: no Puck, no car.
As if reading Rachel's thoughts, Puck dug into his pockets and produced the keys to his truck. He set it down on the table, his hand still on top of the keys.
"You can take my truck."
"But Noah-"
"Under one condition," he projected over Rachel's voice. "That Quinn says it's okay to go where you want to go."
Rachel visibly swallowed. Her eyes darted to Quinn, whose face was maddeningly blank and inscrutable. Rachel turned back to Puck. He read her fears easily. Anyone could.
"It's time, Rachel," he said gently. "Tell her."
"What is it?" Quinn asked. Neither of them answered her. They stared at one another, locked in a wordless battle of wills. Frustrated by the silence, Quinn added, "Are you two talking about going to Bakersfield?"
Their reactions, Quinn had to admit, were deeply satisfying. Both turned to her with wide, shocked eyes, their jaws slightly agape. Rachel started stammering nonsense. Quinn found all of it immensely amusing; however, it only felt right to explain herself to them.
"Rach, we share the same room and you leave your crap lying around everywhere," she said mildly. "You're not exactly some criminal mastermind. I found your maps."
"Well, that doesn't prove anything."
"And your nine-page manifesto titled 'Manifesto: How To Get Quinn To California To See Her Daughter And Thereby Release Her From Her Impending Emotional Doom'."
"Okay, that proves something," Rachel muttered.
"You wrote a manifesto?"
"Focus, Noah. We have more important matters at hand," Rachel replied briskly, then turned to Quinn. "You're taking this much better than I expected."
Quinn shrugged. "I've had time to adjust."
"How long have you known?"
"Since Little Rock. It was the night I left the party early. I went back to our room and I found the maps." Quinn felt compelled to add, "I wasn't going through your things. You left the maps sitting out on the bed." And then she went through Rachel's stuff.
"Little Rock?" Rachel was stunned. Arkansas seemed like such a long time ago. But Quinn had known all this time. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Guilt crossed Quinn's face.
"I guess I was..." Quinn hesitated, searching for the right word. "...Stalling. I guess I was stalling. At first I didn't know what to do. I was just busy being angry with you."
"That's why you were mad? I thought it was because of..." Rachel suddenly remembered that Puck, although quiet and tired, was very much still present. "...other stuff." The neck-kissing in the bathroom. The thinly veiled speech she'd given Quinn on a park bench in Eureka Springs.
"Maybe that stuff too," Quinn admitted.
"You two need better codewords," Puck declared. "You don't need to keep saying stuff. You can say it. Sex." Despite the gravity of the situation, he actually managed to smirk.
"We didn't have sex," Rachel said.
"We don't have sex," Quinn emphasized.
"You keep saying that, but-"
"Noah? Can we please focus?"
Puck rolled his eyes, but nodded at Quinn, signaling for her to continue.
"Anyway, I was so busy being mad at you for meddling that I didn't stop to ask myself whether I wanted to go. But then I realized - well, I guess someone helped me realize - that you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. And when I forced myself to think about what you were planning and, I realized that I do want to see her. So I went along with it. But I wasn't ready... and I stalled." If this were a cartoon, a lightbulb would have lit up over Rachel's head.
"That's why we've been driving around in circles!" Despite herself, there was clear awe in Rachel's voice.
How did she not see this earlier? This was why Quinn had heartily endorsed Kurt's plea to stay in Eureka Springs. She was stalling. Why would Brittany want to visit a Liberty Bell made of wheat? Or Matt wanting to visit the birthplace of Kool-Aid? Or Mercedes and the world's largest time capsule; or Artie and the world's largest ball of stamps; or Tina and Carhenge; or Mike and the 72-oz steak and on and on. Every stop came at the suggestion of a different person for no apparent reason. One stop led to another until they had essentially driven in a big circle around the middle of the United States. Now Rachel realized that Quinn must have encouraged - if not downright pushed - them into making these suggestions. Rachel would know. She had spent the first half of the trip doing the exact same thing. She'd been playing a game of Spy v. Spy with Quinn and she didn't even know it. She had to admit that Quinn out-manipulated her by leaps and bounds.
"I don't get it," Puck said blunty. "What's going on?"
"Nevermind," Quinn sighed. "The bottomline is that I do want to go. I want to see her. I'm just... not ready yet." Puck pushed his car keys toward her.
"Take your time," he said.
***
They took Puck to the bus station. It was going to be a two-day bus ride with no less than four transfers. Puck insisted that it was perfectly fine.
"This is nothing," he scoffed with much bravado. "It's good training for when I'm a rock star one day and living out of my tour bus." At the station, he gave Quinn a long hug.
"Give our girl a kiss from me," he whispered, and she started to cry. Rachel started to tear up as well. That hadn't been Puck's intention. It was hard pretending like he didn't care about not making it to California. But Puck was good at pretending. "So now that I'm giving you my truck, can I at least get a kiss?"
Quinn smiled fondly at him and planted a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. Puck broke into a wide grin.
"I meant a kiss between you two." He unabashedly leered at the girls. Quinn smacked him on the arm. "Ow! What? Just one! One!"
"You're impossible."
When it was almost time to board the bus, Puck told Quinn that he'd forgotten his chew in the truck and asked her to bring it to him. After grumbling about what a disgusting habit it was, Quinn went, leaving Puck alone with Rachel - which was the whole point of Puck 'forgetting' his chew in the first place. See, Puck could be sneaky too.
"Whatever it is that you're not doing wrong with Finn, you need to stop, or you need to tell her. Probably both." No smirk, no grin, no leering. He was actually being serious for once. It was unnerving.
"I don't think that's any of your business," Rachel answered as polite as she could.
"Berry, in case you haven't noticed, everything that happens in this stupid glee club is everyone's business. If it wasn't our business, none of us would have came on this trip and I wouldn't be giving you my truck."
He had a point. She had gotten everyone so tangled up in Quinn's life that it would be disingenuous of her to ask them not to care now. And of course, she knew that what she was doing with Finn was wrong, otherwise she wouldn't feel so guilty about it. Or maybe it was what she was doing with Quinn that was wrong since, technically, she 'went out' with Finn before anything happened with Quinn. At any rate, she didn't look forward to telling Quinn about it. She wasn't sure how she would react. She was afraid of Quinn being upset, but she was even more afraid of Quinn not caring at all.
But for the time being, all she could do was nod and say in a small voice,
"Okay."
But as it turned out, before Rachel even had the chance to tell her, Quinn found out that very night.
***
Grand Junction, CO
When Rachel was in the shower and her phone rang and the display said 'Finn', Quinn knew better than to answer it. But she did it anyway.
"I have my mouth on your nipple," he said before she could speak. Quinn froze. Finn kept talking, describing the filthy things that he'd like to do to Rachel. Things that Quinn had thought about but couldn't bring herself to do. His words poured into her like liquid poison, swirling and polluting her mind until it solidified, transforming into images, stark and horrifying. She felt sick. She ended the call. When she heard it ring again, she fumbled with the buttons until she manage to turn the phone off entirely. She sat there on the edge of the bed, feeling revulsion and rage jockeying for top position inside her. She stayed that way until she heard the sound of the shower being turned off, then she realized that she had to do something. She slowly rose and ambled into the bathroom.
When Rachel stepped out of the shower, she was very surprised to find Quinn leaning against the bathroom counter, holding on to the towel that she needed.
"Quinn!" Rachel yelped, instinctively crossing her arms over herself and shrinking away. "What are you doing?" Quinn suddenly realized that this was the first time she's seen Rachel naked. For a brief moment, she forgot why she came in here in the first place. She couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. But she sure as hell could see.
Rachel definitely noticed. She didn't know what to make of this situation, but she knew three things: 1) Quinn was staring at her naked body; 2) she didn't mind one bit and 3) for the first time since they started this trip, they were totally, utterly, thankfully alone. Slowly, she dropped her arms to her side.
"Quinn? Is everything all right?"
Quinn struggled to find her voice. She only remembered her mission when she realized that she was still clutching Rachel's cell phone. She set the phone down on the counter.
"Finn called."
Rachel's heart lurched, but she struggled to keep her face neutral.
"Oh?"
"He had quite the message for you."
Rachel could feel herself trembling, and it wasn't just because she's still dripping wet and starting to get cold.
"What was it?"
Quinn started to tell her. Her mouth was open, but the words were stuck. All the insults she wanted to hurl, all the obscenities she wanted to scream out, all the anger she wanted to unleash, they just sat lodged in her throat. So instead of telling Rachel the message, she decided to show her instead.
She closed the gap between them in two quick steps, and pushed the brunette up against the wall. She dipped her head down and captured a hardened peak in her mouth. She could feel water droplets sliding off Rachel's breast and onto her tongue. She sucked, hard. She could hear Rachel's moans, sharp, harsh and enthused. She lifted her head, and heard disappointed groans as her mouth left pulled away from soft flesh, then relieved sighs as she switched her focus to the other breast. She rolled her tongue against the underside, lapped at the nipple in short, teasing strokes, all the while feeling heat pooling between her legs. She pressed her fingers hard against Rachel's hips. Her hands roamed the curves, feeling the slick, damp skin.
Then, just as abruptly as she descended, she pulled away, moving quickly for the door. Rachel, her back still pressed up tight against cold linoleum, breathed with staggered gasps. Quinn threw the towel at her, turned on her heel and walked out.
With shaky hands, Rachel toweled herself dry and put on her pajamas, struggling to comprehend what the hell had just happened. Quinn knew about her phone calls with Finn, she could grasp that much. But given her reaction, it was difficult to tell whether she was actually upset about it.
When she exited the bathroom, she found Quinn sprawled out on the bed, watching TV and cradling a bottle of Vodka that Puck had left them. She was watching The Twilight Zone. Rachel approached and gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed.
"If you would like to discuss-"
"No," Quinn cut her off. She took a drink straight from the bottle, then thrust it into Rachel's hands. "Drink." Rachel hesitated. She didn't think that alcohol would be conducive to the heart-to-heart in-depth discussion she and Quinn so badly needed. Quinn sensed her reluctance and hissed at her through gritted teeth, "Just do it, Berry."
So Rachel crawled onto the bed, settled in next to Quinn, and she took a sip. When they drank with Puck, he always mixed the drinks for them. She wasn't used to taking it straight, and she coughed a little at the bitterness. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quinn smirk. She thought that she was being punished. So be it. She took a long drink from the bottle. So the two of them sat on the bed, passing the bottle back and forth, watching The Twilight Zone in silence.
Rachel's head was swimming by the time the episode was over. Quinn set the bottle down on the nightstand, and turned off the TV. Rachel figured that it was time for bed, and she groggily contemplated making her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Her eyelids were fluttering shut when she felt Quinn's hand underneath her shirt. Her eyes snapped open. She was very awake now.
"Quinn?" she whispered.
In response, Quinn rolled her body on top of Rachel's. As the hand underneath Rachel's shirt began to massage gently, Quinn brought her lips to Rachel's. She flicked her tongue across Rachel's lips before delving in, worming inside her mouth, their tongues lapping languidly together. This Rachel knew. This was familiar territory. Quinn wanted a drunken make out session, and Rachel was more than happy to oblige. As usual, she didn't dare push for more. She kept her hands respectably at Quinn's waist, over the clothes; she would lie there and kiss for as long as Quinn wanted to. Rachel was content with this.
But Quinn wasn't. She abruptly pulled away, and before Rachel could protest or comprehend what was happening, she found that her pajama top was being roughly pulled up over her head and yanked off. She shivered lightly at the exposure, but not for long, because Quinn was all over her; all hands and lips in a frenzied exploration of her torso. Rachel moaned as she felt Quinn's mouth, wet and hot against her nipples.
Still, that wasn't enough for Quinn. When she pulled away again, it was to tug her own shirt off, and for the first time, Rachel came to see Quinn's bare breasts. If she wasn't already wet, she certainly would be now. Rachel's hands still rested politely on Quinn's hips. That was unacceptable. Quinn seized Rachel's hands and roughly pulled them up. Rachel got the hint. She cupped the soft mounds in the palm of her hands and experimentally reached out with her thumbs, gently flicking at the stiff nubs. The experiment went well; Quinn arched her back, pushing her hips harder into Rachel's. Her moan was nearly primal.
"Mouth," Quinn gasped. "Now."
Rachel eagerly complied, bolting up and bringing her mouth to Quinn's breast, marveling at the weight, heftiness, the smoothness, and how pleasurable it all was. Her tongue darted out, caressing the tip with circular motions, occasionally introducing just a hint of teeth. Quinn hissed sharply and dug her fingernails into Rachel's shoulders. She couldn't wait any longer. Reaching down, she started pulling at the waistband of her pants and underwear until they're off and flung aside. Then she started on Rachel's remaining wardrobe, fiercely yanking off the rest of her clothes until not a thread remained.
By now, Rachel had realized that this wasn't going to be just another drunken make out session. This was going to be more, much more. She gazed up at Quinn through heavy eyelids, and found the edges of her figure a little blurry. She could feel her head pulsating; everything seemed too loud, too colorful, too disorientated. She was drunk. She never wanted and didn't want now for her first time to be a drunken fuck. But she did want Quinn. She wanted Quinn a lot, and the thought of Quinn being her first was too good to pass up. Rachel didn't need a pro/con list for this. She knew what she wanted. She didn't really want it to be this way, but if the two of them needed to be drunk in order for her to have Quinn, well, then, so be it.
Besides, it wasn't as if Quinn was asking for permission because the blonde girl had already descended upon Rachel, bringing their naked bodies together in heated fusion as their lips locked together once more. Quinn's hands moved across Rachel's body frantically and urgently, having waited so god damn long for this moment that the pressure from the build-up was unbearable. She delved south. She lightly ran the pad of her fingertips along Rachel's slit, and earned a satisfying pained moan in response. Quinn pushed a finger in, not all the way, but into the folds.
"Ow!" Rachel winced, flinching in pain. Quinn froze, the confusion evident on her face.
"What?"
"Um..." Rachel's cheeks were red, although it was difficult to tell whether that was from the alcohol or the embarrassment.
"What?"
"I- I, um... I- I think it's your fingernails," Rachel stammered out.
"Oh," Quinn said, not comprehending. Then, as realization hit, "Oh!" She quickly withdrew her hand. Her fingernails were long. She had let them grow out on the trip. She certainly hadn't expected to do this kind of thing tonight, and so she hadn't prepared for it beforehand. Tonight, in between her jealous rage and her drunken haze, she overlooked this one little detail. And now dire embarrassment trumped both jealous rage and drunken haze. "Oh, god. I- I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," Rachel responded demurely.
"Um." Quinn was still pressed up against Rachel's very naked body, and quite aware of this fact. If it weren't for the fact that she was ridiculously horny, she would have been too embarrassed to ask this next question. "Do you have nail clippers?"
"Ahh... no. Brittany and Santana did, but..."
"Right. Okay." Reluctantly, Quinn rolled off Rachel, who was left looking mighty disappointed. There were other things that Quinn could have done for Rachel at this point, but frankly, Quinn wasn't ready for that kind of thing, and Rachel wasn't one to push.
***
Interstate 15
The next day, it was as if nothing had happened.
"The Salt Lake Temple looks interesting." In the passenger seat with her bare feet propped up on the dashboard, Quinn was browsing through brochures that they had picked up at the visitor's center. On this day, Quinn was acting normal, which, given the events of the previous night, made it absolutely abnormal. Rachel would've chalked the whole thing up to drunken hallucinations if it weren't for the fact that the two of them had woken up next to each other completely naked.
"You want to visit a Mormon Temple?"
"It's a big tourist attraction. And it looks pretty." Quinn showed her the cover of the brochure. It amazed Rachel how Quinn could go on blithely as she did. "Doesn't it?"
"Sure," Rachel replied noncommittally. Quinn flipped through the rest of the brochures.
"There's also an aviary... A zoo... There's a planetarium... Apparently they also have a seagull monument... Some place called Heritage Park..." Quinn paused in her brochure-flipping to read a sign they just passed. "Hey, Rach, can you pull off at the next exit?"
"Of course."
"I saw a sign for Target."
"Did you need something?"
Quinn looked at Rachel with an incredulous and exasperated expression, as if it should've been perfectly obvious to her, and she was quite silly for even asking.
"Nail clippers."
"...Oh."
***
Salt Lake City, UT
They decided to check in at the hotel first before they did their sightseeing. They agreed that they would take fifteen minutes to rest and freshen up before they headed over to Temple Square for the afternoon.
Naturally, an hour later, they were still in the room and making out on the bed. Neither was sure how it happened, but it seemed to have happened by accident: a step too close led to an accidental brushing which led to bodies leaning in which led to lips meshed together and tangled limbs and stumbling on to the closest soft surface. Their clothes were still intact, but each were dimly aware that that wouldn't be the circumstance for long. Rachel's body felt prickly hot, so much so that the soft cotton of her clothes felt like burlap against her skin. She itched to get out of them, but she waited for Quinn to make the move. The anticipation built and built within her until she was so anxious for it that when Quinn finally pried at the edge of her shirt, she involuntarily jerked at the sensation of Quinn's fingers against her skin.
Quinn pulled back, her hands stopping, uncertain of how to interpret Rachel's startled movement. Rachel saw Quinn's hesitancy, but misread the cause of it. It occurred to Rachel that they've never done this sober. She thought that maybe Quinn was losing her nerve without a little liquid courage.
"Are you all right?"
Quinn nodded faintly. "I- I think so. Are you?"
Now it was Rachel's turn to nod. "Yes, I'm fine."
Neither moved. They were both waiting for the other one to do something. Finally, Rachel spoke up:
"D- did you want something to drink?" Truth be told, she felt a little ashamed for the suggestion. It felt wrong, but when Rachel Berry wanted something this badly, she wasn't above some slightly underhanded tactics. Quinn opened her mouth, like she was trying to find the right answer but she wasn't sure what it was.
"No," she said at last, and Rachel felt a flood of relief. "Do you?" Rachel shook her head.
"We don't have to do this." Rachel's tone was too reluctant to be convincing. "If you're not ready, that is."
"I'm not the virgin here. Shouldn't I be telling you that?"
"Not necessarily. Prior sexual experience doesn't guarantee readiness for the next one, particularly when it's something unfamiliar. Additionally, I'm quite mature with regards to my sexual needs and expectations. I've given the matter a great deal of thought, and I've come to the conclusion that my preparedness for physical intimacy is at an emotional and physical apex. I believe that this is the appropriate-"
"Rachel."
"Yes?"
"This is never going to happen if you don't shut up."
Then Rachel was quiet. To make sure that she stayed that way, Quinn found a good use for her mouth by sealing it with her own. They moved slowly against one another, trying not to break too far apart as they pulled off their clothes and slipped under the covers. For a little while, they just kissed, alternating between gentle and passionate, unhurried and frenzied. At times they pushed against one another as if waging a vicious battle; at other times, they explored each other's bodies with the delicacy of handling a fragile object.
At last, Quinn moved on top, propping herself up on one elbow, her hand tangled through Rachel's thick hair while the other gently caressed the length of Rachel's body until it reached the mound of damp curls. Rachel inhaled a sharp, ragged breath. To calm her, Quinn dipped her head down, capturing the brunette's mouth in a kiss that started soft but that was soon infused with fiery zeal. Slowly, Rachel parted her legs and drew up one knee, wordlessly inviting.
Quinn dipped two fingers into the folds, and Rachel shuddered pleasurably at the sensation. Quinn awkwardly felt around until she reached the small, hard nub she was looking for. She rubbed lightly in a semi-circle, and heard Rachel emit a heavy, pained sigh. Quinn continued this movement, on occasion introducing a light pinch or an up-and-down motion. She looked down in amazement at the expression on Rachel's face: eyes squeezed tight, mouth agape, a slight wince coming on from time to time. Her fingers dipped south, pressing up against Rachel's opening. Rachel opened her eyes. Quinn could feel her body tensing.
"Okay?" she whispered softly. Rachel swallowed perceptibly, but she nodded.
"Okay."
"Are you... are you sure?"
"Yes. Please. Just..." Rachel drew an unsteady breath. "Just one, okay? For now."
"Okay."
"And slow. Please."
"Okay."
Quinn placed a delicate kiss to Rachel's lips and eased in the way she was told. Rachel bit down on her bottom lip. It didn't hurt, but she was still tense from the fact that there was another person doing this to her. It felt so strange and so unfamiliar... and yet, really damn good. Especially when Quinn started moving inside her. Quinn, needing a little contact of her own, swung one leg over Rachel's thigh. She began moving her hips in time with her hand, leisurely and gentle. When Rachel began squirming and panting heavily, she figured that it was okay to go faster and deeper. She pushed in as far as she could, and curled her finger upwards.
"Quinn."
"Do you want me to stop?" She was already slowing down, but Rachel shook her head fiercely.
"No. More," Rachel gasped out. Quinn picked up the speed. "No, more."
"Oh."
Obeying, she slipped a second finger in. Rachel grimaced, but she didn't seem to mind the pain that much because her hips bucked upward. Quinn resumed pumping her fingers in and out, and she pushed her thumb against Rachel's clit. Rachel's hands came to rest on Quinn's shoulder, curling around the back of her neck, as if she were holding on for dear life. Her sighs and moans came more frequently, rising up and up until it reached a crescendo as her body clenched around Quinn's fingers again and again. At the sensation, Quinn angled her hips down hard against Rachel's leg, and she shuddered helplessly against the brunette's body as she cried out,
"Rachel. Rachel. Rachel." Over and over, like a curse or a prayer.
When the last ecstatic wave finally passed, Quinn slowly pulled her fingers out, and settled heavily against the smaller girl, who still had her hands curled about Quinn's neck. Quinn thought about going to the bathroom to clean up, but when she started to move, Rachel griped onto her tightly.
"No," she whimpered. "No, don't go. Please. Stay with me. Please stay."
"Okay." Quinn brushed the brunette's tresses away from her eyes, and placated with her kisses and murmurs of, "Okay okay okay."
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