fic: The First Second Time (Part 3/3)
TITLE: The First Second Time (Part 3/3)
AUTHOR: Brio
SPOILERS: S03E05 (Canon really isn't my thing though)
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: After her first time fails to live up to her expectations, Rachel proposes an experiment.
WORDS: 7,897
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Rachel/Quinn
Part 1 || Part 2
1:26
Rachel sighs and turns away from the clock. She stares into the darkness of her room before closing her eyes. She’s been lying down for close to two hours now and is still as wide-awake as she’d been when she’d crawled into bed after her talk with her parents.
1:28
She sighs again, a little more dramatically this time and reaches for her phone. The brightness of the screen in the pitch black room causes her to squint and turn on her bedside light. Despite knowing how late it is and how unlikely it is that the message she’s writing will be read any time soon, she sends it anyway and tosses her phone onto the bedspread.
Drumming her fingers against her stomach, she tries to force herself to sleep while replaying the conversation she’d had with her dads over and over in her mind.
Her dads had called her down to the lounge as soon as they’d arrived home. Well, after they’d sat in the driveway for close to half an hour, talking loudly and gesturing expansively. Rachel had watched them from her bedroom window and felt the knot of tension in her stomach tighten slightly. She’d attempted to plan out everything she wanted to say to them but could already feel the words slipping away from her.
When they’d finally exited the car, Rachel had jumped back from the window and launched herself onto her bed, chewing her already ragged thumbnail.
“Rachel, could you come down here?”
Trying desperately to figure out the tone of her dad’s voice, Rachel had taken her time walking down the stairs. Her dads had been waiting in the lounge, neither of them sitting on the couch that she and Quinn had occupied earlier on in that day. Her papa had smiled warmly at her and gestured for her to sit.
“So,” her dad had said and stopped, unsure how to continue. He’d swallowed before looking up from the carpet and giving her a curious look. “First of all, we’re not mad. We understand that things can get a little confusing when you’re a teenager… all these hormones running around and…”
“Not that we condone ‘making-out’…” Rachel had cringed when her papa had formed air-quotes with his fingers. He’d trailed off before remembering his next point. “You’re still dating Finn,right?”
Rachel had nodded and opened her mouth to speak before realising she had no idea what to say.
“But you like Quinn?” her dad had asked, watching his daughter nod a little harder than before. “Have you always liked girls?”
Both men had agonised over how they could have possibly missed the signs that their own daughter might be gay. All they’d heard for the past couple of years had been ‘Finn this’ and ‘Finn that’. There hadn’t been any signs that this had been coming.
“I’ve always liked her,” Rachel had admitted, feeling slightly relieved when she’d said the words out loud.
“Have you and Quinn…?” her dad had looked away, embarrassed but determined to be type of parent his hadn’t been. He wanted Rachel to be able to talk about everything and anything. Rachel’s cheeks had burned and that had given them their answer. Her papa had exhaled sharply and stood up from his favourite armchair, pacing the lounge floor a couple of times.
“I thought it would make me less confused,” Rachel had said, wondering why the ground hadn’t opened up and swallowed her whole yet. “But all it’s actually done is confirmed that I have feelings for her. Real feelings.”
Her dad and papa had shared a look before her dad had nodded.
“And it’s okay to have those feelings,” her dad had said. “It’s normal and you know we have no problem with that at all.”
“I know, dad,” Rachel had murmured.
“But it’s unfair on Finn,” her papa had interrupted. “And it’s unfair on you and Quinn too. Lying and sneaking around is not how we’ve raised you. We want you to promise that you’ll talk to him as soon as you can.”
“I promise.”
Both men had breathed a sigh of relief.
“There’s something else we need to discuss,” her papa had added, gesturing to the couch where Rachel had been poised to escape. “As of right now, there will be a ban on all non-lounge-related activities including…”
“I got it, papa,” Rachel had said, bouncing up from the couch and all but running out of the room.
Her phone buzzes softly on top of the blankets bringing her back into the present and she snatches it up, almost hoping that it’s a message from Quinn before remembering who she’d sent a message to a few minutes ago.
I’m outside x
Rachel nearly trips over her blankets in her haste to get out of bed and check outside her window. True enough, a car is sitting at the curb and the owner is climbing out, making their way up the path. Thankful that her dads are incredibly heavy sleepers, Rachel pads down the stairs and unlocks the front door.
“Hey,” she whispers, opening the door a little wider to let her visitor past. She locks the door again and gestures up the stairs, listening out for any sign that her dads have heard anything. Positive that they’re still fast asleep in their room, Rachel guides the visitor into hers and closes the door as softly as possible.
“What’s going on?” he asks, slipping off his boots when he sits down on the end of the bed.
“I need to talk to someone,” Rachel says, grabbing a sweater from her wardrobe and climbing back onto her bed.
“At one-thirty in the morning?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You’re lucky that Blaine and I stayed up to watch the Real Housewives of Atlanta marathon.” Off Rachel’s look, he hastily adds: “Well, Blaine watched it. I fell asleep over an hour ago.”
“Sure,” Rachel agrees, smirking slightly before shaking her head and lying down on her side. “I’ve done something awful.”
Kurt tilts his head to the side, ready to tell his best friend that whatever she’s done can’t be that bad but the look on Rachel’s face tells him that it actually is horrific. She hasn’t looked this unhappy since Mr Schuester had suggested that they spend a week of glee club rehearsals dedicated to works of Tupac.
“Have you sent another girl to a crackhouse? Was it Sugar?” Kurt asks, somewhat hopefully.
“No,” Rachel shakes her head. “No more crackhouses.”
“Okay, you’re scaring me a little, Rach,” he says, lying down to face Rachel. He reaches between them and takes her hand. “What’s up?” He watches his friend wrestle with the millions of words racing around her head before squeezing her hand. “Talk to me.”
“I cheated on Finn,” Rachel says in a rush, a quick exhale of air. She shuts her eyes tightly and waits for Kurt’s reaction.
“What?” he asks blankly. “You cheated… on Finn?” Rachel nods. “But… what? Who with?”
“Does it matter?” Rachel asks, opening her eyes again to find Kurt’s face the epitome of surprise. “It gets worse.”
“Are you pregnant?!” Kurt almost shouts before he remembers that it’s very late at night and Rachel’s dads are asleep down the hall.
“No!” Rachel hisses in return, glancing worriedly at her bedroom door.
“Not that I would have minded being a fabulous uncle…” Kurt says and Rachel smiles a little. “Okay. You need to talk and I’m going to listen. I’m not going to judge or interrupt.”
For a moment, Rachel feels conflicted. Kurt is Finn’s stepbrother and despite a rocky beginning to their relationship as siblings, the pair is getting along really well. But she also realises that she doesn’t have many options to vent about what’s happened.
“It was sort of an experiment,” Rachel begins, keeping her eyes on their joined hands even though her mind immediately replaces Kurt’s hand with Quinn’s. She imagines the other girl’s thumb stroking the back of her hand and squeezes it in return.
“Rach?” Kurt asks, bringing her attention back to him. “An experiment?”
“Oh,” she says, collecting her thoughts again. “Sorry. Things with Finn… they didn’t go as well as I’d hoped they would. After West Side Story.” Kurt looks at her blankly for a few seconds before his mouth opens in a silent ‘oh’.
“But you said…” he trails off and Rachel blushes before shaking her head slightly. “Oh.”
“No, it was okay,” Rachel says hurriedly. “But I thought I’d feel more. That I’d feel closer to him and that it would affirm everything that I’ve ever believed about us.”
“And it didn’t,” Kurt supplies.
“Not even close,” Rachel says despondently. “And I tried to figure it out… was it me? Was it Finn? I didn’t have anyone else to compare it to…” Kurt watches the turmoil on Rachel’s face and wishes he could find an easy way to make it better for his best friend. “You told me that your first time was amazing. And I guess I wanted to have sex with someone who I already knew could make me feel that way.”
“So it was someone you’ve dated before?” Kurt asks, already guessing that Puck is the answer. Rachel shakes her head. “Someone from glee club?” Rachel nods.
“Up until a week ago, I’d never admitted what I’m about to tell you to anyone,” Rachel says. “Not even to myself really. I’ve always kind of had a crush on Quinn.”
Ten seconds pass before Kurt’s eyes widen and his jaw drops and he just stares at Rachel, completely flummoxed.
“Kurt?” Rachel asks with a hint of concern after a minute passes in complete silence. She squeezes his hand and watches a frown crease his forehead.
“Quinn?” he asks. “God, I thought it was Puck. I mean, you’re far too good for him but still, I thought it was Puck. But Quinn? Quinn Fabray? Quinn the former cheerleader and ex-captain of the unwed mothers’ society Fabray?”
“That’s the one,” Rachel murmurs, lifting a hand to cup Kurt’s face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m a little shocked,” Kurt says. “Just give me a moment.” He rolls onto his back, closing his eyes. Rachel sighs and lies back against her pillows.
“Drama queen,” Rachel says, poking his side. Kurt tries to squirm away.
“My best friend texts me in the middle of the night to confess her lesbian affairs and I’m the drama queen?!” he whispers as loudly as possible.
“Affair,” Rachel corrects him.
“How did Quinn feel about being a part of your experiment?” Kurt asks after another lengthy silence. Rachel had finally felt herself falling asleep and startles slightly at the sound of Kurt’s voice.
“She was surprisingly willing,” Rachel says, stifling a yawn behind her hand.
“I can see why,” Kurt says before yawning himself. “That was so attractive.”
Rachel rolls her eyes and gives Kurt a quick shove.
“You’re taking this better than I imagined you would,” Rachel says, grasping his hand again. “Remember how I said that it gets worse?”
“How can cheating on your boyfriend, who happens to be your best friend’s stepbrother, with his ex-girlfriend get any worse?”
“My papa caught us earlier today,” Rachel says, closing her eyes when Kurt gasps.
“Caught you?!”
“Making out,” Rachel hastily adds. “Not anything else. Quinn might have been a little bit topless.”
“Oh my god,” Kurt says with a grimace. “So your dads know and I know… does anyone else?” Rachel shakes her head quickly. “What did they say?”
“I’m banned from making out with anyone in the lounge,” Rachel says, knowing that Kurt is asking what her parents think of the fact she’s cheating on Finn. “They made me promise that I’d talk to him sooner rather than later. They weren’t mad but I think they’re pretty disappointed. It makes me wonder why I’m not disappointed with myself, why I don’t feel as guilty as I probably should. I feel bad that I’m going to hurt Finn but I don’t feel guilty for cheating.”
“How do you feel?”
“Relieved,” Rachel sighs. “Which isn’t a good sign. I should be feeling remorse.”
Kurt considers this for a few seconds.
“I think that tells you what you need to do then,” Kurt says.
“Yeah,” Rachel agrees with a slight nod. She yawns again and inches closer to Kurt, snuggling against him. “I don’t think I can stay awake any longer. You want to stay the night?”
“Shhh, sleeping,” he murmurs back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his eyes already closed.
“Thanks for not freaking out,” Rachel mumbles.
“I’m sure I will in the morning,” he replies.
xxxxx
After a long Sunday morning run around the track, Quinn returns home to find Rachel ringing her doorbell, oblivious to the fact that no-one is home. Quinn slows and removes her headphones as she makes her way up the path, a smile working its way across her somewhat-numb face.
“Can I help you?” she calls before Rachel can jab the button again. She whirls around before glancing back at the house.
“Oh,” she says and steps to the side to allow Quinn to unlock the door. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Quinn replies, pushing the door open and allowing Rachel to enter before her. “How long have you been here?”
“Just a couple of minutes,” Rachel says. “I thought that you’d be finished with church by now… except, you clearly never went.” She glances up and down the length of Quinn’s body and instantaneously feels her heart beat a little faster. “How was the track?”
“Cold,” Quinn says, leading Rachel straight to the kitchen to make herself something to warm her up. “Can I get you something?”
“No, this is just a quick visit,” Rachel says, wringing her hands in front of her nervously. “I’m on my way to Finn’s.” She watches as Quinn bends down to massage a cramp out of her calf. “Are you okay?”
“A little sore,” Quinn says, grimacing when her fingers rub over a knot of tension.
“Can I help?” Rachel asks, taking a couple of steps closer. Quinn waves her away though, trying to hop around the room. “Quinn, please let me help.”
Quinn straightens out her leg and yelps at the pain, cursing under her breath as she continues to hop around the room. Rachel catches her around the waist, forcing her to hold still.
“Sit down,” Rachel instructs, helping to lower Quinn to the hard, cold floor. She moves Quinn’s hands away from the sore spot and runs the pads of her thumbs over it, wincing at the groan that rises up from Quinn’s chest. “What’s wrong? You’re acting like you don’t want me to touch you.”
Quinn grits her teeth as Rachel’s fingers start to manipulate her calf muscle, working out the cramp until the pain subsides.
“I’m still a little embarrassed,” Quinn admits. “About your dads. And now I’m worried that my mom is going to burst in on us in what’s probably going to end up being a pretty compromising position.”
“Are you insinuating that I can’t keep my hands off you?” Rachel asks, increasing the pressure she’s applying to Quinn’s calf.
“Maybe,” Quinn replies, letting her head fall back against the cupboards behind her. “That feels so good.” Rachel stays silent, concentrating on the task at hand until she’s positive that Quinn’s cramp is completely gone.
“Better?” she asks, hands slowing until she’s stroking the back of Quinn’s leg with her fingertips.
“Much,” Quinn murmurs, far too focused on how Rachel’s fingers are trailing higher and higher with every stroke. “Rachel…”
“Quinn,” Rachel says, shuffling forwards until she’s all but sitting on Quinn’s lap. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I’ve talked to my dads and Kurt and…”
“You talked to Kurt?” Quinn interrupts, eyes snapping open, a worried look on her face.
“I needed to talk to someone, to try and figure out what I’m feeling,” Rachel says quickly.
“And your boyfriend’s stepbrother was your choice?” Quinn asks, eyebrow arching.
“Kurt is my best friend,” Rachel says firmly, reaching for Quinn’s hands, sensing that the blonde is getting ready to have a panic attack. “I trust him.” She leans forward to peck Quinn’s cheek. “Have you changed your mind about…” Struggling to find a word that accurately describes what they are, she gestures between their bodies, “…this?”
When Quinn fails to respond, Rachel pulls the blonde’s gaze towards her and captures her lips. She feels the other girl acquiesce and hands grip her waist.
“Are you going anywhere this afternoon?” Rachel asks, pulling away half-heartedly.
“No plans,” Quinn replies, reluctantly letting her hands drop away from Rachel as the brunette begins to get to her feet. As much as she loves kissing Rachel, there are parts of her - increasingly dominant parts of her - that are endlessly frustrated by how their last two sessions have ended.
“Do you want me to come back later?”
Quinn nods and gets to her feet, still feeling her calf muscle twinge when she puts pressure on it. She decides that a hot bath might be the best solution instead of the cold shower that she really wants to take.
“If you feel up to it, then yes,” Quinn says, limping slightly as she walks to the front door with Rachel.
“I’ll see you later.”
xxxxx
“Just five more minutes, Rach,” Finn says as he blasts zombies or vampires or zombie vampires to pieces. Rachel has been perched on the end of Finn’s bed for the better part of an hour and she’s getting increasingly annoyed.
“Finn, it’s really important that we talk,” she says but it falls on deaf ears. She sighs heavily and gets up. Finn barely takes his gaze away from the screen as she rummages behind the TV, unsurprised to find a tangle of cables. Unable to figure out which one leads from the games console, she starts pulling. The screen goes black and Finn looks up, a look of annoyance crossing his features.
“Rachel, what the hell…?” he asks, getting to his feet. “I said five minutes…”
“You said that an hour ago, Finn,” Rachel interrupts, moving to sit on the chair next to the desk. “We need to talk.”
Finn frowns at her and nods.
“Has this got something to do with why you’ve been ignoring me for the past week or so?” he asks, settling down on the bed. Rachel nods in return, twisting her hands in her lap as she tries to decide where to begin. “The reason why you’ve been ignoring me since the final night of West Side Story?”
“I need to tell you something,” Rachel says.
“Are you breaking up with me?” Finn asks, jumping to the end of the short speech Rachel had rehearsed in her head on the way over.
“I think that’s going to be the only option,” Rachel admits, glancing down at her hands. “I’m not proud of what I’ve done and I’m not asking for you to forgive me but I need to be honest with you. It’s only fair.”
“Did you cheat on me?” he asks, his voice completely hollow. When Rachel nods, he takes a shaky breath and leans forward, placing his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry, Finn.”
xxxxx
Kurt arrives home to shouting and the sound of a door slamming and possibly a piece of furniture being knocked over. Quick footsteps run down the stairs before Rachel comes into view, upset but not crying.
“Hey,” he says, offering her a sad smile before wrapping her up in a hug. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be okay. I’m not so sure about Finn,” Rachel replies, taking a shaky breath. More footsteps sound and Finn starts to lumber down the stairs. He pulls up short at the sight of Kurt holding Rachel in his arms.
“I told you to go, Rachel,” he says, running a hand over his face to get rid of the tears he hadn’t been able to stop from falling. Rachel breaks out of Kurt’s embrace and, without a backward glance, leaves the house.
“Finn…” Kurt says, watching his stepbrother stomp towards the kitchen.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Finn says, almost smashing a glass when he slams it down on the counter. “It doesn’t make any of this easier. She told you, right? About what she did?”
Kurt nods, leaning back against the counter.
“You didn’t think to give me a head’s up?”
“It wasn’t my place,” Kurt says with a small shrug. “She didn’t do it to hurt you. She did it to figure things out about herself. I think you might have been the last thing on her mind actually.”
“You’re really not helping, Kurt,” Finn says, staring incredulously at his stepbrother. “She could have broken up with me first before she jumped into bed with Quinn.”
“Would that have made this any easier?” Kurt asks, taking the glass from Finn’s hand and filling it with water. He hands it back and Finn gulps down half of it. Slowly he shakes his head before slouching down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “People make mistakes, sometimes unforgivable mistakes, but you have choices here, Finn. You can rise above all of this and be the bigger man.”
Kurt looks Finn up and down.
“Figuratively and literally,” he adds. Finn rolls his eyes.
“Can I be mad at her for a little while at least?” Finn asks, draining the rest of his glass.
“I recommend it,” Kurt says with a swift nod. “And if you need someone to help you take out an army in whatever video game you’re currently playing, you know where I am.” Finn gives him a curious look. “Well, I can get Blaine here to help you out.”
Finn gets up from the chair and starts to head out of the room, hesitating when he reaches the doorway. He turns and pats Kurt on the shoulder.
“Thanks Kurt. I was pretty set on putting my fist through a wall when I came down the stairs,” he says.
“That I don’t recommend,” Kurt says, smiling up at the taller boy. “My dad would have a fit.”
“My mom too,” Finn says gravely. “Look, can you do me a favour?”
“Sure,” Kurt replies, helping himself to some strawberry smoothie from the fridge.
“I could really use some of those pancakes you made my mom when she was sick,” Finn says.
“I’ll bring you up a stack,” Kurt says with a smile. “Syrup? Or chocolate sauce? I think we have both.”
“Whatever you think will help the most,” Finn replies before disappearing out of the room. Kurt sighs to himself and starts pulling ingredients from the cupboards and the fridge. While whipping up the batter, he muses over the fact that if NYADA decides that they don’t want him, he could probably make a killing opening his own pancake house for the sick and broken-hearted.
xxxxx
Quinn takes Rachel’s complete lack of communication over the next few days as a bad sign.
When the brunette barely looks her way in Spanish class, Quinn feels unease spread through her body. At lunch, Rachel sits alone, picking forlornly at a plate of salad and excuses herself when Kurt approaches to sit with her, all but running for the door. After school, Quinn sits in the back row at glee club, watching the doorway for Rachel’s entrance but she never appears.
Instead, she gets to deal with Finn, glowering at her whenever she crosses his eyeline, and whispered conversations from all the other glee club members that mysteriously cease whenever she comes close enough to hear.
It’s late on Wednesday night when Rachel finally makes contact.
Hey.
The message causes her phone to vibrate loudly on her bedside table and brings her out of the doze she’d fallen into while trying to do Chemistry homework. She frowns at the message and although she has a hundred questions for Rachel, she types back the shortest response she can come up with.
Hey yourself.
It feels like the longest five minutes and thirty-eight seconds before the phone buzzes again. Quinn snatches it up.
Can we meet tomorrow lunch time to look at my Spanish project?
Remembering her promise to help Rachel with the project, Quinn taps out a reply saying that that would be okay. She spends a few minutes agonising over how to end the message. With an x, without an x, with a question… eventually she settles for asking if Rachel is okay and can’t concentrate until the reply comes through.
I just need some time. See you tomorrow xx
With a heavy sigh, Quinn tosses her phone away and turns her attention to her chemistry homework, trying to make sense of the jumble of graphs and formulae on the page of her textbook. If Rachel wants time, then Quinn is going to give her time. She has all the time in the world.
xxxxx
Rachel finds an unoccupied table near the back of the library and pulls her Spanish project out of her bag before sitting down to wait for Quinn. After pretty much ignoring the other girl for the past three days, Rachel is under no illusion that the next hour is going to be awkward; more awkward than their encounters usually are.
“Hey,” Quinn’s voice interrupts her thoughts and she glances up, a smile working its way across her features as even the sound of the blonde’s voice causes a visceral reaction inside her. Quinn pulls out a chair and sits down across from her. “So, what do you need help with?”
A little shocked by how abrupt Quinn’s tone is, Rachel hesitantly reaches for a few sheets of paper and hands them to Quinn.
“I’m not sure about a couple of things,” she says. “I’ve underlined them in red. Could you tell me if I’ve used the right verb and tense?”
Quinn nods and picks up a pen. Rachel glances away, drumming her fingers against the desk as she tries to figure out what to say. Less than two minutes later, Quinn stops scribbling and hands the pieces of paper back.
“It’s good,” she says, a hint of a smile crossing her lips. “Anything else?”
Rachel shakes her head slightly.
“That was it,” she says, feeling defeated. Quinn’s expression softens and she moves a chair closer to Rachel.
“I thought you were going to come back,” Quinn says quietly. “I waited around. Even just to hear that you were okay. Or not okay. Anything. And you ignored me for three days.”
“I’ve been ignoring everyone,” Rachel says, looking away, her gaze settling on the bookshelves to her right. “I mean, everyone is going to be on Finn’s side. I’m the cheater here.”
“I’m not on his side. And anyone who judges you for what you’ve done is a hypocrite. It’s not as though any of us in glee club have stellar track records when it comes to relationships. Even Tina and Mike started dating while Tina was still with Artie,” Quinn says, reaching for Rachel’s hand.
“I guess…” Rachel frowns.
“Look, I’ll give you time. I’ll give you space. But you can’t shut us all out forever. You should come to glee club this afternoon. Stop hiding.”
Rachel sighs and nods slightly. Quinn squeezes her hand and leans in a little closer.
“If you’re not there, I’m going to find you and drag you there myself,” the blonde warns, letting her lips brush against Rachel’s cheek before catching herself and moving away quickly. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Rachel says, pulling Quinn back towards her. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you coming to the cafeteria?” Quinn asks. “I’m pretty sure I saw vegan lasagne on the menu when I passed by earlier.” Rachel considers Quinn’s offer for a few seconds before the blonde rolls her eyes and scoops up the brunette’s papers and bag. “Come on.”
“Quinn, wait,” Rachel says, grabbing Quinn’s arm before the taller girl can leave. “Has Finn said anything to you or spoken to you at all?”
“No, but judging by the looks that he’s been giving me all week, I’m assuming you told him that it was me,” Quinn replies, hoisting Rachel’s bag more comfortably onto her shoulder.
“He guessed,” Rachel says with a shrug. “I didn’t want to lie about anything else so I told him it was you but that it was all my fault.”
“I could have said no,” Quinn states. “I’m not completely blameless here.”
“Can you honestly imagine a scenario in which you said no?” Rachel asks, lowering her voice as a couple of students draw near, scouring the shelves for books in the History section. Quinn lowers her head slightly as a blush colours her cheeks. Chewing the corner of her bottom lip, she glances back up before grinning and shaking her head.
“No.”
xxxxx
Too restless to while away her Saturday morning watching cartoons, Quinn finds herself pulling on a couple of extra layers, lacing up her sneakers and heading out to the track. There are two other runners, puffing and panting their way around the track, but both give up within five minutes of Quinn arriving. She stretches quickly and starts her run slowly, building up her pace until she’s in time with the music pumping into her ears.
She’s nearing the end of her sixth lap when a solitary figure at the other end of the track distracts her. They’re not running, just standing, waiting. She keeps running but starts to slow when she realises that she recognises the person’s red coat.
“Are you here to run?” Quinn calls, slowing to a stop while Rachel hugs her arms across her chest, trying to keep some warmth inside.
“Not exactly,” she replies. Quinn starts to stretch her legs, aware that Rachel’s gaze has dropped. “Are you still getting cramp in your leg?”
“Yeah,” Quinn says. “It isn’t as bad as last week though.”
“A dance class would probably help,” Rachel muses.
“I’ve already said that I’ll think about classes in January,” Quinn rolls her eyes. “Speaking of dancing, why aren’t you at the studio?”
“I didn’t feel like it today. Maybe next week,” Rachel shrugs, jamming her hands into her pockets now and silencing whatever Quinn is about to say with a look. “Besides, I have something to ask. Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”
“You came all the way down here in the freezing cold to ask me to dinner?” Quinn grimaces as she bends down to massage a knot out of her left calf.
“Actually, I went to your house first,” Rachel says. “No-one was home so I figured you might be here.”
“Will your dads be there?” Quinn asks, blushing at the memory of her last encounter with one of Rachel’s dads.
“They might be. Briefly. They have these date nights every month so they’ll be going out for dinner,” Rachel says. “I guess it depends on what time you come over.”
“When do you want me there?” Quinn asks with a grin, straightening up to stretch her arms out in front of her.
“I’m not going anywhere this afternoon,” Rachel says. “My only plan is to spend some time on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, with a big mug of hot chocolate.” Quinn nods.
“So I’ll see you in a couple of hours then?”
“If you think you can survive the intense questioning that my dads are going to submit you to, then yes, I will see you in a couple of hours,” Rachel says, grinning when Quinn turns a little pale. She turns to walk away, deciding that she’s definitely spent far too long outside in the cold.
“I might be late…” the blonde calls to Rachel’s retreating back, positive that Rachel is chuckling as she walks away.
xxxxx
When the doorbell rings, Rachel almost trips over her blanket in her haste to get to the front door before either of her dads do. She gives Quinn a smile and lets her pass, pulling off the blonde’s hat as the other girl heads through to the lounge.
“Wuss,” Rachel calls after her.
“The forecast is for snow,” Quinn retorts, taking off her jacket, scarf and mittens. “Plus that hat is awesome.” She reaches out for the moose-shaped hat which Rachel gladly tosses over.
“If you’re five,” Rachel grins.
“Winter is the only time of year when teenagers and adults can get away with wearing ridiculous things on their heads,” Quinn sighs. “I guess I’ll have to settle for being five.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Rachel says, rolling her eyes. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Hot chocolate would be great,” Quinn says. “Maybe put a shot of whisky in it? If you’re about to introduce me to your dads, being mildly buzzed might help.”
“Stop worrying,” Rachel says, leaving the room. Quinn glances around nervously before heading through to the kitchen in case they decide to ambush her in the lounge. She pulls up short when she walks into the kitchen to find one of Rachel’s dads at the breakfast bar. He glances over at her and a tight smile forms on his lips.
“Hello,” he says, standing up and removing his glasses. “You must be Quinn. I’m Michael.” They shake hands and Quinn notices that he squeezes her hand a little bit too tight, as though he’s trying to intimidate her. It’d be more terrifying if Michael wasn’t an inch shorter than Quinn.
“Nice to meet you,” Quinn replies, retracting her hand and glancing over at Rachel who is watching them with a look of amusement on her face. “Rachel, do you need a hand?”
“No, no,” she replies, putting five mini-marshmallows into Quinn’s mug.
“I’m assuming Rachel will keep you informed of the rules we’ve set regarding the lounge,” Michael says. “Just so you know, it’s unlikely that either myself or my husband will be returning to the house after we’ve left but that doesn’t mean you can take advantage…”
Quinn begins to blush and stammers over her words.
“I would never take advantage of your daughter, sir,” she says.
“Dad, will you please stop scaring Quinn? She’s here for dinner and we’ll probably watch a couple of movies,” Rachel says. “That’s what friends do, right?”
“Right,” Quinn agrees though completely disheartened by this statement. Rachel gives her a bright smile as she approaches with the two mugs of hot chocolate but wavers slightly at the frown on Quinn’s face.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. Quinn casts a quick glance at Rachel’s dad, who is watching them intently before shaking her head and accepting one of the mugs.
“Nothing,” Quinn says. “Let’s go choose a movie.”
Halfway through their first movie, Rachel sighs exasperatedly and wrenches the empty mug from Quinn’s hands to place it on the table in front of them. She pushes pause on the remote and turns fully to look at Quinn.
“What?” she asks.
“What what?” Quinn replies, confusion causing her forehead to wrinkle.
“You’re fidgeting,” Rachel says. “You keep moving around and tapping your fingers against the mug and you’re clearly not paying attention to the film. What’s wrong?”
The sound of the front door slamming breaks Rachel’s train of thought as her papa appears in the doorway of the lounge. Gasping in horror, he puts his hands over his eyes and backs away from the door. Rachel sighs heavily as Quinn starts to blush.
“Papa!” Rachel calls. “That’s not funny.”
“It was a little funny,” he calls back before peeking around the doorframe. “Hello Quinn.”
“Hello Mr Berry,” Quinn says, standing up when he comes into the room.
“Raymond, please,” he says, shooting an impressed look at his daughter when Quinn extends her hand to shake his. “I trust you two are behaving.”
“Impeccably,” Rachel replies, pulling Quinn back down onto the couch. “Quinn’s never seen High Society.”
“Isn’t that a pity?” Raymond remarks sarcastically. “Rach, try to remember that not everyone lives for musicals the way you do. Maybe let Quinn choose the next one?”
“Maybe,” Rachel huffs, turning her attention back to the movie. Raymond chuckles as he moves away from the doorway and heads down the corridor. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Quinn shakes her head. “Do you want to watch another movie?”
“No, let’s finish this one,” Quinn says, sinking back into the cushions heavily. “The next one is going to have significantly less musical numbers though.”
xxxxx
Halfway through the second movie, Rachel tries again, feeling that Quinn isn’t settling. The other girl reaches for the remote and pushes the pause button before turning to face Rachel.
“You said we’re friends,” Quinn says hesitantly. “Earlier. To your dad.”
“We are friends,” Rachel frowns. “Aren’t we?”
“Yes,” Quinn replies. “We are.”
“Is that a problem?” Rachel asks, a hint of incredulity creeping into her tone. “Because we could go back to being hostile and…”
“I thought we’d be more,” Quinn interrupts. “After what happened between us. I mean, have I done something to make you not want to be with me? Because just before you went to Finn’s, you pretty much mounted me on my kitchen floor. And then you ignored me for three days and now I have no idea what you’re thinking…”
Quinn finds herself cut off by Rachel’s lips pressing against her own and words flee from her brain. All the words. The brunette tugs on Quinn’s lip before pulling back, a smile playing on her lips.
“Oh,” Quinn exhales when Rachel pulls away.
“Does that make things clearer?”
“A little,” Quinn murmurs. “I guess I don’t want to rush you into anything but…”
“But you want reassurance,” Rachel says, taking her hand. “Reassurance that you’re not wasting your time with me.”
“Reassurance that I’m not making an idiot of myself,” Quinn says, gaze firmly trained on their joined hands. Rachel mulls over what to say next, watching as Quinn’s thumb rubs a circle across the back of her hand.
“Finn asked me if we were going to start dating,” Rachel squeezes the blonde’s hand and waits for her to look up. “And when I told him that it was up to you, he said that I know nothing about you. But that isn’t true. Sure, I don’t know your favourite colour or your favourite movie but I know that you read the Classics during glee club and for the past two Christmases, you’ve read A Christmas Carol. I know you love dancing a lot more than you’ll ever admit. I know you speak Spanish pretty much fluently. I know you have dreams and ambitions bigger than this town. And I know you have a birth mark on your right hip. I know that when I kiss you here…” Rachel leans in to place a kiss at the base of Quinn’s neck before sucking lightly at the spot. Quinn moans, arching back into the cushions. Rachel pulls away with a satisfied smile on her face, “… you do that.”
Before Rachel can pull any further away, Quinn reaches to grab her waist, pulling the shorter girl onto her lap. A long week of frustration starts to pour out of Quinn as they kiss and press against each other in a completely unsatisfying way. After a minute or so, Quinn groans and pulls Rachel around so that the brunette’s knees rest on either side of Quinn’s thighs.
“We should…” Rachel murmurs, not wanting to break away from the kiss but worried nonetheless that they’ll be interrupted if they stay in the lounge. There’s something about rules that her fathers had set also hovering on the edge of her consciousness that causes her to pull back a little further.
“Yeah,” Quinn agrees, not waiting to hear the rest of Rachel’s sentence. They scramble off the couch and make their way quickly up the stairs to Rachel’s room. Quinn registers yellow walls and posters and a bed before Rachel starts to undress. “Blue.”
“What?” Rachel asks, pausing to glance up at Quinn, jeans around her knees.
“You didn’t know my favourite colour,” Quinn says, watching the brunette shuck her jeans off and give her a look of amusement.
“Any particular shade?” Rachel asks, advancing on Quinn until she has the taller girl backed up against the door.
“Not really,” Quinn stammers when she feels Rachel’s lips against that spot on her neck once more. “Why limit yourself to one shade of blue when it covers so many different things? The sky, the ocean, the um…” Rachel nips at her skin and she moans. “Why am I still talking?”
“I think I’m making you nervous,” Rachel says, hands tugging at Quinn’s t-shirt before pulling it over the blonde’s head.
“You’re making me a lot of things,” Quinn replies, hips wriggling a little as Rachel pushes down her jeans. “Nervous is near the top of the list.”
“Tell me what’s number one on the list,” Rachel says, genuinely interested to know how she’s affecting the other girl. Quinn blushes furiously and mumbles a response that Rachel doesn’t stand a chance of hearing. “Pardon me?”
“Really, really wet.”
Rachel’s gaze instantly drops and she subconsciously licks her lips, her mouth suddenly very dry. She tries to think of a response to Quinn’s admission but her brain appears to have exploded. She finally releases a breath she’s been holding for about twenty seconds.
“Oh.”
Quinn chuckles in spite of her nerves and walks past the brunette, heading for the bed. She settles on the edge and waits for Rachel to regain her motor skills. She tilts her head to the side and watches the muscles in Rachel’s shoulders twitch.
“Rachel?” Quinn calls after a minute, fearing that she’s completely broken the other girl.
Rachel whirls around and advances towards Quinn who swallows hard at the look on Rachel’s face. When she gestures for the blonde to move up onto the bed fully, Quinn does so in a heartbeat, nestling back against the pillows. Silently Rachel kneels on the bed before crawling up to meet Quinn in a heated kiss. The rest of the clothing covering their bodies is thrown haphazardly to the ground and their bodies entwine, fitting as perfectly as they had the first time.
“I missed this,” Quinn breathes, fingertips edging down Rachel’s sides.
“It’s only been two weeks,” Rachel grins against Quinn’s lips, teeth tugging gently on her bottom one until the blonde moans.
“I think you’re underestimating how much I like you,” Quinn says, enjoying the shy way that Rachel blushes and tries to duck her head. “I like you, Rachel.”
“I like you too.”
“I’m glad we’re clear on that,” Quinn chuckles before reaching up brush the bangs out of Rachel’s eyes. “You look a little nervous.”
“What if I’m not good at this?” Rachel asks, shifting her thigh slightly between Quinn’s legs. The blonde shakes her head, eyes fluttering shut.
“I hear practice makes perfect,” Quinn murmurs, lips connecting with Rachel’s as the brunette’s hips start to grind down against her own.
xxxxx
The sound that escapes Quinn’s lips as she arches back is barely human. Every nerve in her body is thrumming and every time Rachel touches her, she feels like she’s going to tumble over the edge. Her right hand finds purchase in Rachel’s sheets, fingers curling, knuckles whitening. Through half-lidded eyes, she glances down, hypnotised by the mess of brown hair between her thighs.
Oh god.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
Quinn wrenches her gaze towards the ceiling as Rachel’s fingers replace her tongue and the brunette thrusts deep and hard. And waits. Quinn feels herself clench erratically, glancing down again. Rachel is staring back, head tilted to the side.
“Tease,” Quinn pants, trying desperately to cant upwards off the bed.
A smile crosses Rachel’s lips and she draws her fingers out, watching Quinn bite her bottom lip. She’s revelling in the power she holds over the blonde, the look of ecstasy that crashes onto Quinn’s face when Rachel curls her fingers inside and the conflicting look of annoyance when Rachel dances her towards the edge but doesn’t give her the satisfaction she’s craving.
“Enough,” Quinn moans, pulling Rachel back up to kiss her. “Enough.”
Rachel nods, circling Quinn’s clit with the tips of her fingers. Quinn grinds upwards, keeping perfect rhythm with the brunette until Rachel whispers in the blonde’s ear.
“I want you to come for me.”
With Rachel’s name on her lips, Quinn jerks and moans and shakes apart, feeling every part of her body tense and release and fall back limply onto the bed. She takes a shaky breath before running her hand over her forehead.
“Wow.”
“Yes.”
Quinn tries to find another word, something more eloquent to describe how elated she feels but can’t. She gives up and closes her eyes, a smile slipping across her face.
“Wow.”
“We covered that,” Rachel groans, moving onto her side to curl up against Quinn, who instantly turns to press a kiss to the shorter girl’s forehead.
“Wow.”
xxxxx
Quinn eventually drags Rachel down to the kitchen to ‘make’ dinner. Thirty minutes later, they sit at the dining table with cartons of Thai food.
“What happens next?” Rachel asks, swirling her remaining noodles around the bottom of the carton.
“Well, we could watch the rest of the movie,” Quinn jokes, watching Rachel roll her eyes. “We’ll figure it out.” Rachel makes a face, now stabbing at her noodles. “What have the noodles done to upset you?”
“Nothing,” Rachel says. “I just have this somewhat irrational fear that you saying yes to all of this has been an elaborate hoax and at any moment you’re going to dump me, go to Finn’s, tell him I cast some sort of spell over you and then you two will run off into an incredibly beige-coloured sunset for a life of monotony in Lima, Ohio.”
Quinn blinks a few times and swallows a mouthful of food before responding.
“That’s a highly detailed, though completely irrational, fear,” she says, smirking slightly. “I’m not going anywhere. Shouldn’t I be more worried about you doing the same thing to me?”
“It was just a thought,” Rachel blushes.
Quinn considers this for a few moments before putting down her chopsticks and reaching for Rachel’s hand.
“An irrational thought. Anyway,” Quinn says, taking a quick breath to steady the nerves that have suddenly started coursing through her body again. “In order for me to ‘dump you’, we’d have to be dating first.”
“That’s true,” Rachel says, a smile working its way across her lips.
“I wrote out a plan, a list of things I was going to do to sweep you off your feet,” Quinn says, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans. Moments before she’d left her house earlier that day, she’d been scoring out a few of her ideas after deeming them completely ridiculous (who knew hot air balloon rides were so expensive?) and then stuffed the list into her pocket. “I guess I was so nervous about meeting your dads, I didn’t even think to put it back in my bedside cabinet.”
“’Take her to see one of her favourite movies.’” Rachel reads out one of the crossed out items, before pushing the list back towards Quinn. “Don’t show me the rest.”
“It’s corny, right?” Quinn says, making a face before folding it up and shoving it back into her pocket. “I mean, I don’t need a list…” She can feel herself beginning to stammer.
“No,” Rachel says, shaking her head furiously. “I want to be surprised.”
“Surprised?” Quinn asks.
“When you get around to doing everything else on that list,” Rachel clarifies before leaning over to press a kiss to Quinn’s cheek. She gathers up the empty cartons and leaves Quinn at the dining table, wondering where on earth she’ll find a barbershop quartet that can sing medleys of Broadway classics.
Screwed.
AUTHOR: Brio
SPOILERS: S03E05 (Canon really isn't my thing though)
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: After her first time fails to live up to her expectations, Rachel proposes an experiment.
WORDS: 7,897
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Rachel/Quinn
Part 1 || Part 2
1:26
Rachel sighs and turns away from the clock. She stares into the darkness of her room before closing her eyes. She’s been lying down for close to two hours now and is still as wide-awake as she’d been when she’d crawled into bed after her talk with her parents.
1:28
She sighs again, a little more dramatically this time and reaches for her phone. The brightness of the screen in the pitch black room causes her to squint and turn on her bedside light. Despite knowing how late it is and how unlikely it is that the message she’s writing will be read any time soon, she sends it anyway and tosses her phone onto the bedspread.
Drumming her fingers against her stomach, she tries to force herself to sleep while replaying the conversation she’d had with her dads over and over in her mind.
Her dads had called her down to the lounge as soon as they’d arrived home. Well, after they’d sat in the driveway for close to half an hour, talking loudly and gesturing expansively. Rachel had watched them from her bedroom window and felt the knot of tension in her stomach tighten slightly. She’d attempted to plan out everything she wanted to say to them but could already feel the words slipping away from her.
When they’d finally exited the car, Rachel had jumped back from the window and launched herself onto her bed, chewing her already ragged thumbnail.
“Rachel, could you come down here?”
Trying desperately to figure out the tone of her dad’s voice, Rachel had taken her time walking down the stairs. Her dads had been waiting in the lounge, neither of them sitting on the couch that she and Quinn had occupied earlier on in that day. Her papa had smiled warmly at her and gestured for her to sit.
“So,” her dad had said and stopped, unsure how to continue. He’d swallowed before looking up from the carpet and giving her a curious look. “First of all, we’re not mad. We understand that things can get a little confusing when you’re a teenager… all these hormones running around and…”
“Not that we condone ‘making-out’…” Rachel had cringed when her papa had formed air-quotes with his fingers. He’d trailed off before remembering his next point. “You’re still dating Finn,right?”
Rachel had nodded and opened her mouth to speak before realising she had no idea what to say.
“But you like Quinn?” her dad had asked, watching his daughter nod a little harder than before. “Have you always liked girls?”
Both men had agonised over how they could have possibly missed the signs that their own daughter might be gay. All they’d heard for the past couple of years had been ‘Finn this’ and ‘Finn that’. There hadn’t been any signs that this had been coming.
“I’ve always liked her,” Rachel had admitted, feeling slightly relieved when she’d said the words out loud.
“Have you and Quinn…?” her dad had looked away, embarrassed but determined to be type of parent his hadn’t been. He wanted Rachel to be able to talk about everything and anything. Rachel’s cheeks had burned and that had given them their answer. Her papa had exhaled sharply and stood up from his favourite armchair, pacing the lounge floor a couple of times.
“I thought it would make me less confused,” Rachel had said, wondering why the ground hadn’t opened up and swallowed her whole yet. “But all it’s actually done is confirmed that I have feelings for her. Real feelings.”
Her dad and papa had shared a look before her dad had nodded.
“And it’s okay to have those feelings,” her dad had said. “It’s normal and you know we have no problem with that at all.”
“I know, dad,” Rachel had murmured.
“But it’s unfair on Finn,” her papa had interrupted. “And it’s unfair on you and Quinn too. Lying and sneaking around is not how we’ve raised you. We want you to promise that you’ll talk to him as soon as you can.”
“I promise.”
Both men had breathed a sigh of relief.
“There’s something else we need to discuss,” her papa had added, gesturing to the couch where Rachel had been poised to escape. “As of right now, there will be a ban on all non-lounge-related activities including…”
“I got it, papa,” Rachel had said, bouncing up from the couch and all but running out of the room.
Her phone buzzes softly on top of the blankets bringing her back into the present and she snatches it up, almost hoping that it’s a message from Quinn before remembering who she’d sent a message to a few minutes ago.
I’m outside x
Rachel nearly trips over her blankets in her haste to get out of bed and check outside her window. True enough, a car is sitting at the curb and the owner is climbing out, making their way up the path. Thankful that her dads are incredibly heavy sleepers, Rachel pads down the stairs and unlocks the front door.
“Hey,” she whispers, opening the door a little wider to let her visitor past. She locks the door again and gestures up the stairs, listening out for any sign that her dads have heard anything. Positive that they’re still fast asleep in their room, Rachel guides the visitor into hers and closes the door as softly as possible.
“What’s going on?” he asks, slipping off his boots when he sits down on the end of the bed.
“I need to talk to someone,” Rachel says, grabbing a sweater from her wardrobe and climbing back onto her bed.
“At one-thirty in the morning?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You’re lucky that Blaine and I stayed up to watch the Real Housewives of Atlanta marathon.” Off Rachel’s look, he hastily adds: “Well, Blaine watched it. I fell asleep over an hour ago.”
“Sure,” Rachel agrees, smirking slightly before shaking her head and lying down on her side. “I’ve done something awful.”
Kurt tilts his head to the side, ready to tell his best friend that whatever she’s done can’t be that bad but the look on Rachel’s face tells him that it actually is horrific. She hasn’t looked this unhappy since Mr Schuester had suggested that they spend a week of glee club rehearsals dedicated to works of Tupac.
“Have you sent another girl to a crackhouse? Was it Sugar?” Kurt asks, somewhat hopefully.
“No,” Rachel shakes her head. “No more crackhouses.”
“Okay, you’re scaring me a little, Rach,” he says, lying down to face Rachel. He reaches between them and takes her hand. “What’s up?” He watches his friend wrestle with the millions of words racing around her head before squeezing her hand. “Talk to me.”
“I cheated on Finn,” Rachel says in a rush, a quick exhale of air. She shuts her eyes tightly and waits for Kurt’s reaction.
“What?” he asks blankly. “You cheated… on Finn?” Rachel nods. “But… what? Who with?”
“Does it matter?” Rachel asks, opening her eyes again to find Kurt’s face the epitome of surprise. “It gets worse.”
“Are you pregnant?!” Kurt almost shouts before he remembers that it’s very late at night and Rachel’s dads are asleep down the hall.
“No!” Rachel hisses in return, glancing worriedly at her bedroom door.
“Not that I would have minded being a fabulous uncle…” Kurt says and Rachel smiles a little. “Okay. You need to talk and I’m going to listen. I’m not going to judge or interrupt.”
For a moment, Rachel feels conflicted. Kurt is Finn’s stepbrother and despite a rocky beginning to their relationship as siblings, the pair is getting along really well. But she also realises that she doesn’t have many options to vent about what’s happened.
“It was sort of an experiment,” Rachel begins, keeping her eyes on their joined hands even though her mind immediately replaces Kurt’s hand with Quinn’s. She imagines the other girl’s thumb stroking the back of her hand and squeezes it in return.
“Rach?” Kurt asks, bringing her attention back to him. “An experiment?”
“Oh,” she says, collecting her thoughts again. “Sorry. Things with Finn… they didn’t go as well as I’d hoped they would. After West Side Story.” Kurt looks at her blankly for a few seconds before his mouth opens in a silent ‘oh’.
“But you said…” he trails off and Rachel blushes before shaking her head slightly. “Oh.”
“No, it was okay,” Rachel says hurriedly. “But I thought I’d feel more. That I’d feel closer to him and that it would affirm everything that I’ve ever believed about us.”
“And it didn’t,” Kurt supplies.
“Not even close,” Rachel says despondently. “And I tried to figure it out… was it me? Was it Finn? I didn’t have anyone else to compare it to…” Kurt watches the turmoil on Rachel’s face and wishes he could find an easy way to make it better for his best friend. “You told me that your first time was amazing. And I guess I wanted to have sex with someone who I already knew could make me feel that way.”
“So it was someone you’ve dated before?” Kurt asks, already guessing that Puck is the answer. Rachel shakes her head. “Someone from glee club?” Rachel nods.
“Up until a week ago, I’d never admitted what I’m about to tell you to anyone,” Rachel says. “Not even to myself really. I’ve always kind of had a crush on Quinn.”
Ten seconds pass before Kurt’s eyes widen and his jaw drops and he just stares at Rachel, completely flummoxed.
“Kurt?” Rachel asks with a hint of concern after a minute passes in complete silence. She squeezes his hand and watches a frown crease his forehead.
“Quinn?” he asks. “God, I thought it was Puck. I mean, you’re far too good for him but still, I thought it was Puck. But Quinn? Quinn Fabray? Quinn the former cheerleader and ex-captain of the unwed mothers’ society Fabray?”
“That’s the one,” Rachel murmurs, lifting a hand to cup Kurt’s face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m a little shocked,” Kurt says. “Just give me a moment.” He rolls onto his back, closing his eyes. Rachel sighs and lies back against her pillows.
“Drama queen,” Rachel says, poking his side. Kurt tries to squirm away.
“My best friend texts me in the middle of the night to confess her lesbian affairs and I’m the drama queen?!” he whispers as loudly as possible.
“Affair,” Rachel corrects him.
“How did Quinn feel about being a part of your experiment?” Kurt asks after another lengthy silence. Rachel had finally felt herself falling asleep and startles slightly at the sound of Kurt’s voice.
“She was surprisingly willing,” Rachel says, stifling a yawn behind her hand.
“I can see why,” Kurt says before yawning himself. “That was so attractive.”
Rachel rolls her eyes and gives Kurt a quick shove.
“You’re taking this better than I imagined you would,” Rachel says, grasping his hand again. “Remember how I said that it gets worse?”
“How can cheating on your boyfriend, who happens to be your best friend’s stepbrother, with his ex-girlfriend get any worse?”
“My papa caught us earlier today,” Rachel says, closing her eyes when Kurt gasps.
“Caught you?!”
“Making out,” Rachel hastily adds. “Not anything else. Quinn might have been a little bit topless.”
“Oh my god,” Kurt says with a grimace. “So your dads know and I know… does anyone else?” Rachel shakes her head quickly. “What did they say?”
“I’m banned from making out with anyone in the lounge,” Rachel says, knowing that Kurt is asking what her parents think of the fact she’s cheating on Finn. “They made me promise that I’d talk to him sooner rather than later. They weren’t mad but I think they’re pretty disappointed. It makes me wonder why I’m not disappointed with myself, why I don’t feel as guilty as I probably should. I feel bad that I’m going to hurt Finn but I don’t feel guilty for cheating.”
“How do you feel?”
“Relieved,” Rachel sighs. “Which isn’t a good sign. I should be feeling remorse.”
Kurt considers this for a few seconds.
“I think that tells you what you need to do then,” Kurt says.
“Yeah,” Rachel agrees with a slight nod. She yawns again and inches closer to Kurt, snuggling against him. “I don’t think I can stay awake any longer. You want to stay the night?”
“Shhh, sleeping,” he murmurs back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his eyes already closed.
“Thanks for not freaking out,” Rachel mumbles.
“I’m sure I will in the morning,” he replies.
xxxxx
After a long Sunday morning run around the track, Quinn returns home to find Rachel ringing her doorbell, oblivious to the fact that no-one is home. Quinn slows and removes her headphones as she makes her way up the path, a smile working its way across her somewhat-numb face.
“Can I help you?” she calls before Rachel can jab the button again. She whirls around before glancing back at the house.
“Oh,” she says and steps to the side to allow Quinn to unlock the door. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Quinn replies, pushing the door open and allowing Rachel to enter before her. “How long have you been here?”
“Just a couple of minutes,” Rachel says. “I thought that you’d be finished with church by now… except, you clearly never went.” She glances up and down the length of Quinn’s body and instantaneously feels her heart beat a little faster. “How was the track?”
“Cold,” Quinn says, leading Rachel straight to the kitchen to make herself something to warm her up. “Can I get you something?”
“No, this is just a quick visit,” Rachel says, wringing her hands in front of her nervously. “I’m on my way to Finn’s.” She watches as Quinn bends down to massage a cramp out of her calf. “Are you okay?”
“A little sore,” Quinn says, grimacing when her fingers rub over a knot of tension.
“Can I help?” Rachel asks, taking a couple of steps closer. Quinn waves her away though, trying to hop around the room. “Quinn, please let me help.”
Quinn straightens out her leg and yelps at the pain, cursing under her breath as she continues to hop around the room. Rachel catches her around the waist, forcing her to hold still.
“Sit down,” Rachel instructs, helping to lower Quinn to the hard, cold floor. She moves Quinn’s hands away from the sore spot and runs the pads of her thumbs over it, wincing at the groan that rises up from Quinn’s chest. “What’s wrong? You’re acting like you don’t want me to touch you.”
Quinn grits her teeth as Rachel’s fingers start to manipulate her calf muscle, working out the cramp until the pain subsides.
“I’m still a little embarrassed,” Quinn admits. “About your dads. And now I’m worried that my mom is going to burst in on us in what’s probably going to end up being a pretty compromising position.”
“Are you insinuating that I can’t keep my hands off you?” Rachel asks, increasing the pressure she’s applying to Quinn’s calf.
“Maybe,” Quinn replies, letting her head fall back against the cupboards behind her. “That feels so good.” Rachel stays silent, concentrating on the task at hand until she’s positive that Quinn’s cramp is completely gone.
“Better?” she asks, hands slowing until she’s stroking the back of Quinn’s leg with her fingertips.
“Much,” Quinn murmurs, far too focused on how Rachel’s fingers are trailing higher and higher with every stroke. “Rachel…”
“Quinn,” Rachel says, shuffling forwards until she’s all but sitting on Quinn’s lap. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I’ve talked to my dads and Kurt and…”
“You talked to Kurt?” Quinn interrupts, eyes snapping open, a worried look on her face.
“I needed to talk to someone, to try and figure out what I’m feeling,” Rachel says quickly.
“And your boyfriend’s stepbrother was your choice?” Quinn asks, eyebrow arching.
“Kurt is my best friend,” Rachel says firmly, reaching for Quinn’s hands, sensing that the blonde is getting ready to have a panic attack. “I trust him.” She leans forward to peck Quinn’s cheek. “Have you changed your mind about…” Struggling to find a word that accurately describes what they are, she gestures between their bodies, “…this?”
When Quinn fails to respond, Rachel pulls the blonde’s gaze towards her and captures her lips. She feels the other girl acquiesce and hands grip her waist.
“Are you going anywhere this afternoon?” Rachel asks, pulling away half-heartedly.
“No plans,” Quinn replies, reluctantly letting her hands drop away from Rachel as the brunette begins to get to her feet. As much as she loves kissing Rachel, there are parts of her - increasingly dominant parts of her - that are endlessly frustrated by how their last two sessions have ended.
“Do you want me to come back later?”
Quinn nods and gets to her feet, still feeling her calf muscle twinge when she puts pressure on it. She decides that a hot bath might be the best solution instead of the cold shower that she really wants to take.
“If you feel up to it, then yes,” Quinn says, limping slightly as she walks to the front door with Rachel.
“I’ll see you later.”
xxxxx
“Just five more minutes, Rach,” Finn says as he blasts zombies or vampires or zombie vampires to pieces. Rachel has been perched on the end of Finn’s bed for the better part of an hour and she’s getting increasingly annoyed.
“Finn, it’s really important that we talk,” she says but it falls on deaf ears. She sighs heavily and gets up. Finn barely takes his gaze away from the screen as she rummages behind the TV, unsurprised to find a tangle of cables. Unable to figure out which one leads from the games console, she starts pulling. The screen goes black and Finn looks up, a look of annoyance crossing his features.
“Rachel, what the hell…?” he asks, getting to his feet. “I said five minutes…”
“You said that an hour ago, Finn,” Rachel interrupts, moving to sit on the chair next to the desk. “We need to talk.”
Finn frowns at her and nods.
“Has this got something to do with why you’ve been ignoring me for the past week or so?” he asks, settling down on the bed. Rachel nods in return, twisting her hands in her lap as she tries to decide where to begin. “The reason why you’ve been ignoring me since the final night of West Side Story?”
“I need to tell you something,” Rachel says.
“Are you breaking up with me?” Finn asks, jumping to the end of the short speech Rachel had rehearsed in her head on the way over.
“I think that’s going to be the only option,” Rachel admits, glancing down at her hands. “I’m not proud of what I’ve done and I’m not asking for you to forgive me but I need to be honest with you. It’s only fair.”
“Did you cheat on me?” he asks, his voice completely hollow. When Rachel nods, he takes a shaky breath and leans forward, placing his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry, Finn.”
xxxxx
Kurt arrives home to shouting and the sound of a door slamming and possibly a piece of furniture being knocked over. Quick footsteps run down the stairs before Rachel comes into view, upset but not crying.
“Hey,” he says, offering her a sad smile before wrapping her up in a hug. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be okay. I’m not so sure about Finn,” Rachel replies, taking a shaky breath. More footsteps sound and Finn starts to lumber down the stairs. He pulls up short at the sight of Kurt holding Rachel in his arms.
“I told you to go, Rachel,” he says, running a hand over his face to get rid of the tears he hadn’t been able to stop from falling. Rachel breaks out of Kurt’s embrace and, without a backward glance, leaves the house.
“Finn…” Kurt says, watching his stepbrother stomp towards the kitchen.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Finn says, almost smashing a glass when he slams it down on the counter. “It doesn’t make any of this easier. She told you, right? About what she did?”
Kurt nods, leaning back against the counter.
“You didn’t think to give me a head’s up?”
“It wasn’t my place,” Kurt says with a small shrug. “She didn’t do it to hurt you. She did it to figure things out about herself. I think you might have been the last thing on her mind actually.”
“You’re really not helping, Kurt,” Finn says, staring incredulously at his stepbrother. “She could have broken up with me first before she jumped into bed with Quinn.”
“Would that have made this any easier?” Kurt asks, taking the glass from Finn’s hand and filling it with water. He hands it back and Finn gulps down half of it. Slowly he shakes his head before slouching down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “People make mistakes, sometimes unforgivable mistakes, but you have choices here, Finn. You can rise above all of this and be the bigger man.”
Kurt looks Finn up and down.
“Figuratively and literally,” he adds. Finn rolls his eyes.
“Can I be mad at her for a little while at least?” Finn asks, draining the rest of his glass.
“I recommend it,” Kurt says with a swift nod. “And if you need someone to help you take out an army in whatever video game you’re currently playing, you know where I am.” Finn gives him a curious look. “Well, I can get Blaine here to help you out.”
Finn gets up from the chair and starts to head out of the room, hesitating when he reaches the doorway. He turns and pats Kurt on the shoulder.
“Thanks Kurt. I was pretty set on putting my fist through a wall when I came down the stairs,” he says.
“That I don’t recommend,” Kurt says, smiling up at the taller boy. “My dad would have a fit.”
“My mom too,” Finn says gravely. “Look, can you do me a favour?”
“Sure,” Kurt replies, helping himself to some strawberry smoothie from the fridge.
“I could really use some of those pancakes you made my mom when she was sick,” Finn says.
“I’ll bring you up a stack,” Kurt says with a smile. “Syrup? Or chocolate sauce? I think we have both.”
“Whatever you think will help the most,” Finn replies before disappearing out of the room. Kurt sighs to himself and starts pulling ingredients from the cupboards and the fridge. While whipping up the batter, he muses over the fact that if NYADA decides that they don’t want him, he could probably make a killing opening his own pancake house for the sick and broken-hearted.
xxxxx
Quinn takes Rachel’s complete lack of communication over the next few days as a bad sign.
When the brunette barely looks her way in Spanish class, Quinn feels unease spread through her body. At lunch, Rachel sits alone, picking forlornly at a plate of salad and excuses herself when Kurt approaches to sit with her, all but running for the door. After school, Quinn sits in the back row at glee club, watching the doorway for Rachel’s entrance but she never appears.
Instead, she gets to deal with Finn, glowering at her whenever she crosses his eyeline, and whispered conversations from all the other glee club members that mysteriously cease whenever she comes close enough to hear.
It’s late on Wednesday night when Rachel finally makes contact.
Hey.
The message causes her phone to vibrate loudly on her bedside table and brings her out of the doze she’d fallen into while trying to do Chemistry homework. She frowns at the message and although she has a hundred questions for Rachel, she types back the shortest response she can come up with.
Hey yourself.
It feels like the longest five minutes and thirty-eight seconds before the phone buzzes again. Quinn snatches it up.
Can we meet tomorrow lunch time to look at my Spanish project?
Remembering her promise to help Rachel with the project, Quinn taps out a reply saying that that would be okay. She spends a few minutes agonising over how to end the message. With an x, without an x, with a question… eventually she settles for asking if Rachel is okay and can’t concentrate until the reply comes through.
I just need some time. See you tomorrow xx
With a heavy sigh, Quinn tosses her phone away and turns her attention to her chemistry homework, trying to make sense of the jumble of graphs and formulae on the page of her textbook. If Rachel wants time, then Quinn is going to give her time. She has all the time in the world.
xxxxx
Rachel finds an unoccupied table near the back of the library and pulls her Spanish project out of her bag before sitting down to wait for Quinn. After pretty much ignoring the other girl for the past three days, Rachel is under no illusion that the next hour is going to be awkward; more awkward than their encounters usually are.
“Hey,” Quinn’s voice interrupts her thoughts and she glances up, a smile working its way across her features as even the sound of the blonde’s voice causes a visceral reaction inside her. Quinn pulls out a chair and sits down across from her. “So, what do you need help with?”
A little shocked by how abrupt Quinn’s tone is, Rachel hesitantly reaches for a few sheets of paper and hands them to Quinn.
“I’m not sure about a couple of things,” she says. “I’ve underlined them in red. Could you tell me if I’ve used the right verb and tense?”
Quinn nods and picks up a pen. Rachel glances away, drumming her fingers against the desk as she tries to figure out what to say. Less than two minutes later, Quinn stops scribbling and hands the pieces of paper back.
“It’s good,” she says, a hint of a smile crossing her lips. “Anything else?”
Rachel shakes her head slightly.
“That was it,” she says, feeling defeated. Quinn’s expression softens and she moves a chair closer to Rachel.
“I thought you were going to come back,” Quinn says quietly. “I waited around. Even just to hear that you were okay. Or not okay. Anything. And you ignored me for three days.”
“I’ve been ignoring everyone,” Rachel says, looking away, her gaze settling on the bookshelves to her right. “I mean, everyone is going to be on Finn’s side. I’m the cheater here.”
“I’m not on his side. And anyone who judges you for what you’ve done is a hypocrite. It’s not as though any of us in glee club have stellar track records when it comes to relationships. Even Tina and Mike started dating while Tina was still with Artie,” Quinn says, reaching for Rachel’s hand.
“I guess…” Rachel frowns.
“Look, I’ll give you time. I’ll give you space. But you can’t shut us all out forever. You should come to glee club this afternoon. Stop hiding.”
Rachel sighs and nods slightly. Quinn squeezes her hand and leans in a little closer.
“If you’re not there, I’m going to find you and drag you there myself,” the blonde warns, letting her lips brush against Rachel’s cheek before catching herself and moving away quickly. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Rachel says, pulling Quinn back towards her. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you coming to the cafeteria?” Quinn asks. “I’m pretty sure I saw vegan lasagne on the menu when I passed by earlier.” Rachel considers Quinn’s offer for a few seconds before the blonde rolls her eyes and scoops up the brunette’s papers and bag. “Come on.”
“Quinn, wait,” Rachel says, grabbing Quinn’s arm before the taller girl can leave. “Has Finn said anything to you or spoken to you at all?”
“No, but judging by the looks that he’s been giving me all week, I’m assuming you told him that it was me,” Quinn replies, hoisting Rachel’s bag more comfortably onto her shoulder.
“He guessed,” Rachel says with a shrug. “I didn’t want to lie about anything else so I told him it was you but that it was all my fault.”
“I could have said no,” Quinn states. “I’m not completely blameless here.”
“Can you honestly imagine a scenario in which you said no?” Rachel asks, lowering her voice as a couple of students draw near, scouring the shelves for books in the History section. Quinn lowers her head slightly as a blush colours her cheeks. Chewing the corner of her bottom lip, she glances back up before grinning and shaking her head.
“No.”
xxxxx
Too restless to while away her Saturday morning watching cartoons, Quinn finds herself pulling on a couple of extra layers, lacing up her sneakers and heading out to the track. There are two other runners, puffing and panting their way around the track, but both give up within five minutes of Quinn arriving. She stretches quickly and starts her run slowly, building up her pace until she’s in time with the music pumping into her ears.
She’s nearing the end of her sixth lap when a solitary figure at the other end of the track distracts her. They’re not running, just standing, waiting. She keeps running but starts to slow when she realises that she recognises the person’s red coat.
“Are you here to run?” Quinn calls, slowing to a stop while Rachel hugs her arms across her chest, trying to keep some warmth inside.
“Not exactly,” she replies. Quinn starts to stretch her legs, aware that Rachel’s gaze has dropped. “Are you still getting cramp in your leg?”
“Yeah,” Quinn says. “It isn’t as bad as last week though.”
“A dance class would probably help,” Rachel muses.
“I’ve already said that I’ll think about classes in January,” Quinn rolls her eyes. “Speaking of dancing, why aren’t you at the studio?”
“I didn’t feel like it today. Maybe next week,” Rachel shrugs, jamming her hands into her pockets now and silencing whatever Quinn is about to say with a look. “Besides, I have something to ask. Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”
“You came all the way down here in the freezing cold to ask me to dinner?” Quinn grimaces as she bends down to massage a knot out of her left calf.
“Actually, I went to your house first,” Rachel says. “No-one was home so I figured you might be here.”
“Will your dads be there?” Quinn asks, blushing at the memory of her last encounter with one of Rachel’s dads.
“They might be. Briefly. They have these date nights every month so they’ll be going out for dinner,” Rachel says. “I guess it depends on what time you come over.”
“When do you want me there?” Quinn asks with a grin, straightening up to stretch her arms out in front of her.
“I’m not going anywhere this afternoon,” Rachel says. “My only plan is to spend some time on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, with a big mug of hot chocolate.” Quinn nods.
“So I’ll see you in a couple of hours then?”
“If you think you can survive the intense questioning that my dads are going to submit you to, then yes, I will see you in a couple of hours,” Rachel says, grinning when Quinn turns a little pale. She turns to walk away, deciding that she’s definitely spent far too long outside in the cold.
“I might be late…” the blonde calls to Rachel’s retreating back, positive that Rachel is chuckling as she walks away.
xxxxx
When the doorbell rings, Rachel almost trips over her blanket in her haste to get to the front door before either of her dads do. She gives Quinn a smile and lets her pass, pulling off the blonde’s hat as the other girl heads through to the lounge.
“Wuss,” Rachel calls after her.
“The forecast is for snow,” Quinn retorts, taking off her jacket, scarf and mittens. “Plus that hat is awesome.” She reaches out for the moose-shaped hat which Rachel gladly tosses over.
“If you’re five,” Rachel grins.
“Winter is the only time of year when teenagers and adults can get away with wearing ridiculous things on their heads,” Quinn sighs. “I guess I’ll have to settle for being five.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Rachel says, rolling her eyes. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Hot chocolate would be great,” Quinn says. “Maybe put a shot of whisky in it? If you’re about to introduce me to your dads, being mildly buzzed might help.”
“Stop worrying,” Rachel says, leaving the room. Quinn glances around nervously before heading through to the kitchen in case they decide to ambush her in the lounge. She pulls up short when she walks into the kitchen to find one of Rachel’s dads at the breakfast bar. He glances over at her and a tight smile forms on his lips.
“Hello,” he says, standing up and removing his glasses. “You must be Quinn. I’m Michael.” They shake hands and Quinn notices that he squeezes her hand a little bit too tight, as though he’s trying to intimidate her. It’d be more terrifying if Michael wasn’t an inch shorter than Quinn.
“Nice to meet you,” Quinn replies, retracting her hand and glancing over at Rachel who is watching them with a look of amusement on her face. “Rachel, do you need a hand?”
“No, no,” she replies, putting five mini-marshmallows into Quinn’s mug.
“I’m assuming Rachel will keep you informed of the rules we’ve set regarding the lounge,” Michael says. “Just so you know, it’s unlikely that either myself or my husband will be returning to the house after we’ve left but that doesn’t mean you can take advantage…”
Quinn begins to blush and stammers over her words.
“I would never take advantage of your daughter, sir,” she says.
“Dad, will you please stop scaring Quinn? She’s here for dinner and we’ll probably watch a couple of movies,” Rachel says. “That’s what friends do, right?”
“Right,” Quinn agrees though completely disheartened by this statement. Rachel gives her a bright smile as she approaches with the two mugs of hot chocolate but wavers slightly at the frown on Quinn’s face.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. Quinn casts a quick glance at Rachel’s dad, who is watching them intently before shaking her head and accepting one of the mugs.
“Nothing,” Quinn says. “Let’s go choose a movie.”
Halfway through their first movie, Rachel sighs exasperatedly and wrenches the empty mug from Quinn’s hands to place it on the table in front of them. She pushes pause on the remote and turns fully to look at Quinn.
“What?” she asks.
“What what?” Quinn replies, confusion causing her forehead to wrinkle.
“You’re fidgeting,” Rachel says. “You keep moving around and tapping your fingers against the mug and you’re clearly not paying attention to the film. What’s wrong?”
The sound of the front door slamming breaks Rachel’s train of thought as her papa appears in the doorway of the lounge. Gasping in horror, he puts his hands over his eyes and backs away from the door. Rachel sighs heavily as Quinn starts to blush.
“Papa!” Rachel calls. “That’s not funny.”
“It was a little funny,” he calls back before peeking around the doorframe. “Hello Quinn.”
“Hello Mr Berry,” Quinn says, standing up when he comes into the room.
“Raymond, please,” he says, shooting an impressed look at his daughter when Quinn extends her hand to shake his. “I trust you two are behaving.”
“Impeccably,” Rachel replies, pulling Quinn back down onto the couch. “Quinn’s never seen High Society.”
“Isn’t that a pity?” Raymond remarks sarcastically. “Rach, try to remember that not everyone lives for musicals the way you do. Maybe let Quinn choose the next one?”
“Maybe,” Rachel huffs, turning her attention back to the movie. Raymond chuckles as he moves away from the doorway and heads down the corridor. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Quinn shakes her head. “Do you want to watch another movie?”
“No, let’s finish this one,” Quinn says, sinking back into the cushions heavily. “The next one is going to have significantly less musical numbers though.”
xxxxx
Halfway through the second movie, Rachel tries again, feeling that Quinn isn’t settling. The other girl reaches for the remote and pushes the pause button before turning to face Rachel.
“You said we’re friends,” Quinn says hesitantly. “Earlier. To your dad.”
“We are friends,” Rachel frowns. “Aren’t we?”
“Yes,” Quinn replies. “We are.”
“Is that a problem?” Rachel asks, a hint of incredulity creeping into her tone. “Because we could go back to being hostile and…”
“I thought we’d be more,” Quinn interrupts. “After what happened between us. I mean, have I done something to make you not want to be with me? Because just before you went to Finn’s, you pretty much mounted me on my kitchen floor. And then you ignored me for three days and now I have no idea what you’re thinking…”
Quinn finds herself cut off by Rachel’s lips pressing against her own and words flee from her brain. All the words. The brunette tugs on Quinn’s lip before pulling back, a smile playing on her lips.
“Oh,” Quinn exhales when Rachel pulls away.
“Does that make things clearer?”
“A little,” Quinn murmurs. “I guess I don’t want to rush you into anything but…”
“But you want reassurance,” Rachel says, taking her hand. “Reassurance that you’re not wasting your time with me.”
“Reassurance that I’m not making an idiot of myself,” Quinn says, gaze firmly trained on their joined hands. Rachel mulls over what to say next, watching as Quinn’s thumb rubs a circle across the back of her hand.
“Finn asked me if we were going to start dating,” Rachel squeezes the blonde’s hand and waits for her to look up. “And when I told him that it was up to you, he said that I know nothing about you. But that isn’t true. Sure, I don’t know your favourite colour or your favourite movie but I know that you read the Classics during glee club and for the past two Christmases, you’ve read A Christmas Carol. I know you love dancing a lot more than you’ll ever admit. I know you speak Spanish pretty much fluently. I know you have dreams and ambitions bigger than this town. And I know you have a birth mark on your right hip. I know that when I kiss you here…” Rachel leans in to place a kiss at the base of Quinn’s neck before sucking lightly at the spot. Quinn moans, arching back into the cushions. Rachel pulls away with a satisfied smile on her face, “… you do that.”
Before Rachel can pull any further away, Quinn reaches to grab her waist, pulling the shorter girl onto her lap. A long week of frustration starts to pour out of Quinn as they kiss and press against each other in a completely unsatisfying way. After a minute or so, Quinn groans and pulls Rachel around so that the brunette’s knees rest on either side of Quinn’s thighs.
“We should…” Rachel murmurs, not wanting to break away from the kiss but worried nonetheless that they’ll be interrupted if they stay in the lounge. There’s something about rules that her fathers had set also hovering on the edge of her consciousness that causes her to pull back a little further.
“Yeah,” Quinn agrees, not waiting to hear the rest of Rachel’s sentence. They scramble off the couch and make their way quickly up the stairs to Rachel’s room. Quinn registers yellow walls and posters and a bed before Rachel starts to undress. “Blue.”
“What?” Rachel asks, pausing to glance up at Quinn, jeans around her knees.
“You didn’t know my favourite colour,” Quinn says, watching the brunette shuck her jeans off and give her a look of amusement.
“Any particular shade?” Rachel asks, advancing on Quinn until she has the taller girl backed up against the door.
“Not really,” Quinn stammers when she feels Rachel’s lips against that spot on her neck once more. “Why limit yourself to one shade of blue when it covers so many different things? The sky, the ocean, the um…” Rachel nips at her skin and she moans. “Why am I still talking?”
“I think I’m making you nervous,” Rachel says, hands tugging at Quinn’s t-shirt before pulling it over the blonde’s head.
“You’re making me a lot of things,” Quinn replies, hips wriggling a little as Rachel pushes down her jeans. “Nervous is near the top of the list.”
“Tell me what’s number one on the list,” Rachel says, genuinely interested to know how she’s affecting the other girl. Quinn blushes furiously and mumbles a response that Rachel doesn’t stand a chance of hearing. “Pardon me?”
“Really, really wet.”
Rachel’s gaze instantly drops and she subconsciously licks her lips, her mouth suddenly very dry. She tries to think of a response to Quinn’s admission but her brain appears to have exploded. She finally releases a breath she’s been holding for about twenty seconds.
“Oh.”
Quinn chuckles in spite of her nerves and walks past the brunette, heading for the bed. She settles on the edge and waits for Rachel to regain her motor skills. She tilts her head to the side and watches the muscles in Rachel’s shoulders twitch.
“Rachel?” Quinn calls after a minute, fearing that she’s completely broken the other girl.
Rachel whirls around and advances towards Quinn who swallows hard at the look on Rachel’s face. When she gestures for the blonde to move up onto the bed fully, Quinn does so in a heartbeat, nestling back against the pillows. Silently Rachel kneels on the bed before crawling up to meet Quinn in a heated kiss. The rest of the clothing covering their bodies is thrown haphazardly to the ground and their bodies entwine, fitting as perfectly as they had the first time.
“I missed this,” Quinn breathes, fingertips edging down Rachel’s sides.
“It’s only been two weeks,” Rachel grins against Quinn’s lips, teeth tugging gently on her bottom one until the blonde moans.
“I think you’re underestimating how much I like you,” Quinn says, enjoying the shy way that Rachel blushes and tries to duck her head. “I like you, Rachel.”
“I like you too.”
“I’m glad we’re clear on that,” Quinn chuckles before reaching up brush the bangs out of Rachel’s eyes. “You look a little nervous.”
“What if I’m not good at this?” Rachel asks, shifting her thigh slightly between Quinn’s legs. The blonde shakes her head, eyes fluttering shut.
“I hear practice makes perfect,” Quinn murmurs, lips connecting with Rachel’s as the brunette’s hips start to grind down against her own.
xxxxx
The sound that escapes Quinn’s lips as she arches back is barely human. Every nerve in her body is thrumming and every time Rachel touches her, she feels like she’s going to tumble over the edge. Her right hand finds purchase in Rachel’s sheets, fingers curling, knuckles whitening. Through half-lidded eyes, she glances down, hypnotised by the mess of brown hair between her thighs.
Oh god.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
Quinn wrenches her gaze towards the ceiling as Rachel’s fingers replace her tongue and the brunette thrusts deep and hard. And waits. Quinn feels herself clench erratically, glancing down again. Rachel is staring back, head tilted to the side.
“Tease,” Quinn pants, trying desperately to cant upwards off the bed.
A smile crosses Rachel’s lips and she draws her fingers out, watching Quinn bite her bottom lip. She’s revelling in the power she holds over the blonde, the look of ecstasy that crashes onto Quinn’s face when Rachel curls her fingers inside and the conflicting look of annoyance when Rachel dances her towards the edge but doesn’t give her the satisfaction she’s craving.
“Enough,” Quinn moans, pulling Rachel back up to kiss her. “Enough.”
Rachel nods, circling Quinn’s clit with the tips of her fingers. Quinn grinds upwards, keeping perfect rhythm with the brunette until Rachel whispers in the blonde’s ear.
“I want you to come for me.”
With Rachel’s name on her lips, Quinn jerks and moans and shakes apart, feeling every part of her body tense and release and fall back limply onto the bed. She takes a shaky breath before running her hand over her forehead.
“Wow.”
“Yes.”
Quinn tries to find another word, something more eloquent to describe how elated she feels but can’t. She gives up and closes her eyes, a smile slipping across her face.
“Wow.”
“We covered that,” Rachel groans, moving onto her side to curl up against Quinn, who instantly turns to press a kiss to the shorter girl’s forehead.
“Wow.”
xxxxx
Quinn eventually drags Rachel down to the kitchen to ‘make’ dinner. Thirty minutes later, they sit at the dining table with cartons of Thai food.
“What happens next?” Rachel asks, swirling her remaining noodles around the bottom of the carton.
“Well, we could watch the rest of the movie,” Quinn jokes, watching Rachel roll her eyes. “We’ll figure it out.” Rachel makes a face, now stabbing at her noodles. “What have the noodles done to upset you?”
“Nothing,” Rachel says. “I just have this somewhat irrational fear that you saying yes to all of this has been an elaborate hoax and at any moment you’re going to dump me, go to Finn’s, tell him I cast some sort of spell over you and then you two will run off into an incredibly beige-coloured sunset for a life of monotony in Lima, Ohio.”
Quinn blinks a few times and swallows a mouthful of food before responding.
“That’s a highly detailed, though completely irrational, fear,” she says, smirking slightly. “I’m not going anywhere. Shouldn’t I be more worried about you doing the same thing to me?”
“It was just a thought,” Rachel blushes.
Quinn considers this for a few moments before putting down her chopsticks and reaching for Rachel’s hand.
“An irrational thought. Anyway,” Quinn says, taking a quick breath to steady the nerves that have suddenly started coursing through her body again. “In order for me to ‘dump you’, we’d have to be dating first.”
“That’s true,” Rachel says, a smile working its way across her lips.
“I wrote out a plan, a list of things I was going to do to sweep you off your feet,” Quinn says, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans. Moments before she’d left her house earlier that day, she’d been scoring out a few of her ideas after deeming them completely ridiculous (who knew hot air balloon rides were so expensive?) and then stuffed the list into her pocket. “I guess I was so nervous about meeting your dads, I didn’t even think to put it back in my bedside cabinet.”
“’Take her to see one of her favourite movies.’” Rachel reads out one of the crossed out items, before pushing the list back towards Quinn. “Don’t show me the rest.”
“It’s corny, right?” Quinn says, making a face before folding it up and shoving it back into her pocket. “I mean, I don’t need a list…” She can feel herself beginning to stammer.
“No,” Rachel says, shaking her head furiously. “I want to be surprised.”
“Surprised?” Quinn asks.
“When you get around to doing everything else on that list,” Rachel clarifies before leaning over to press a kiss to Quinn’s cheek. She gathers up the empty cartons and leaves Quinn at the dining table, wondering where on earth she’ll find a barbershop quartet that can sing medleys of Broadway classics.
Screwed.