I can make you feel real good (2/?)
Title: I can make you feel real good (2/?)
Rating: PG (this one) / NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 3000+
Spoilers: Duets? Let's just say NBK...
Summary: Based on this prompt:
Quinn and Rachel not quite friends - Quinn finishes cheerleading practice one day with very tight muscles. Rachel gives her a surprisingly amazing massage. Quinn then seeks Rachel out for massages which get more and more heated.
Pairings: Eventual Faberry, with mentions of Fabrevans and Finchel
Chapter One
When Quinn Fabray woke up one morning several weeks later, she was cursing. She was cursing for a multitude of reasons.
Firstly, it was morning, and she was clearly not a morning person. Secondly, she had morning Cheerios practice before school, so, unlike 95% of the student population of Lima, Ohio, she had to be up before the sun was. Thirdly, she could feel all sorts of stiffness settling in on her shoulders and back, and had been feeling it since Rachel’s mind-blowing massage (she wasn’t cursing the massage, just that the massage made her aware of just how stiff she normally was).
Lastly, and most importantly, she was cursing herself for not having the presence of mind to have asked for Rachel’s number before. It wasn’t like she could risk anyone at school hearing her ask Rachel for her number! She couldn’t risk it, she was barely back on top as it was!
So she struggled through Cheerios morning practice, suffered through classes, and tried really hard not to glare a hole through Rachel during Glee club in a sad attempt to get her attention. Wasn’t Berry supposed to be psychic? Weren’t people supposed to be able to feel someone’s gaze or something?
Brittany reached across Santana to tap her on the shoulder. “Did Rachel do something to you?” She whispered. Quinn shook her head, still glaring. Pay. Attention. To. Me. Manhands. Rachel shifted in her chair, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. “Why are you looking at her so much, then? Because it looks like you’re trying to get her pregnant...”
Quinn whipped her head around, a comical amalgamation of confusion and shock on her face. “What?” She hissed, brow furrowed.
Santana leaned forward, blocking Brittany from view. “It’s true. You look like you want in Treasure Trail’s pants.” The Latina smirked, “Something you’re not telling us, Quinnie?”
“Ew. No. Just... no. And don’t call me that; it’s gross.” A scowl flitted across her face, and she turned back to Mr. Shuester... well, Rachel. I. Need. A. Massage. Rachel. Berry. Pay. Attention. To. Me. Gawd!
Rachel quickly turned around and smiled widely at Quinn, before nodding subtly and turning back to Mr. Shuester. Wait, what? Quinn’s befuddlement was getting a little out of hand.
About an hour later, Quinn walked out of the club room with Sam’s arm around her waist. “You want to do something later tonight?”
She looked up at him, amused smile on her face. “By do something, you mean make out, right?” He smiled sheepishly, nodding, and she smirked at him, head swirling slightly. “Sorry, I have some plans tonight... some other time?” He squeezed her side lightly, and she tensed until his hand dropped off her waist. He voiced his agreement, then walked down a different hall to his locker. Quinn exhaled sharply, not completely aware that she had even held her breath before continuing to her own, stopping slightly short of it when she saw Rachel waiting for her there. “Manhands... nice of you to grace my locker with your presence.”
Rachel smirked. “You need a massage, right?” Quinn nodded. “I need a ride today, as my parents are both busy. And I might possibly need help with chemistry.”
Quinn chuckled, and opened her locker, rifling through it for her things. “Well, lucky for you I’m good at chemistry, then, right, Berry?”
“Lucky me!” Rachel stated, whirling her fingers in fake cheer, before stopping short. “Hey, I should totally try out for the Cheerios. I’d be a great cheerleader, especially with my many years of dance and gymnastics training!” Her eyes sparked with mischief. “Look at my enthusiasm!”
Quinn chuckled, before closing her locker. Who knew Berry could be funny? “Let’s go, Crazy Face.”
\o/
Rachel crawled into the car, and smiled. “Let’s try my house this time, Quinn. I left some of my chemistry notes there that I’ll be needing, so we might as well just go there.” Quinn nodded... that made sense. Rachel’s place was on the way, anyway.
Quinn started her car, and Rachel immediately reached over to turn on the radio, flipping through stations as Quinn pulled out of the parking lot. “I love this song!” Rachel crowed, before humming along happily. Quinn was surprised... Rachel had settled on jazz, of all things.
She liked smooth jazz for the most part, but not... classic jazz, which they were stuck on. Quinn tried quite hard to not be bothered by the music from her speakers, but after a couple minutes, she just couldn’t take it anymore. At the next stop light, she reached over and changed the radio station to the college radio, and Rachel pouted. “Look, we’re almost at your house anyway. And I’m driving... Try to sing along or something. There’s always some weird indie stuff on after school...”
Rachel perked up, grinning. A generic indie rock song started playing, and, strangely enough, Rachel could hum along after a while, despite Quinn never having even heard of the band before. She was impressed. “Are there any songs you don’t know?”
Rachel nodded, smiling smugly. “It’s not about whether I know the songs... most music today is very generic, and follows the same general melody pattern. If you’re as inundated with music as I am, it’s pretty easy to guess what the composer’s going to go through to next. It’s all pretty easy.” She sighed, leaning back, and, surprisingly enough, Quinn found herself quite interested in what Rachel was saying. “Now, jazz... classical, they don’t do that so much, which is probably why I enjoy them a little more. Jazz has the whole improvisation aspect to the music, and it’s always hard to follow along with them... Classical is just... yeah. Mindblowing.” She closed her eyes, smiling.
Quinn glanced over at Rachel before turning her eyes back onto the road. “I always pegged you for a Broadway kinda gal.”
Rachel chuckled. “Most of you would, but my musical tastes far exceed that of just show tunes. While Barbra Streisand is my idol, there is more to me than just show choir. I press Broadway songs in Glee because that’s what we are: a show choir.” Quinn nodded, smiling. Rachel paused to collect her thoughts, before plowing onwards. “For example, Muse? Their music is delightfully alternative, but I really appreciate how they blend all the different music genres, especially their use of classical music and instruments.”
“Muse?” Quinn was shocked. Rachel Berry liked Muse?
“You don’t know Muse?!” Rachel seemed to be even more shocked than Quinn.
“No! No, I... I love Muse!” Quinn looked a little sheepish. “Just... don’t tell anyone.”
Rachel smirked. “Guilty pleasure of yours?”
Quinn nodded, face a little red. “I used to play the piano, so this one time, when I was at Puck’s, he had a Muse CD in, and.. well, United States of Eurasia started playing, and when it just segued into Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat Minor so effortlessly and beautifully, I was blown away...” Quinn pulled into a stop in front Rachel’s house, and turned to see Rachel completely gobsmacked. “What?”
“You know Chopin!” Silence reigned after Rachel’s exclamation.
Quinn finally snorted, then laughed, doubling over her gear shift to pat Rachel’s shoulder in amusement. Rachel huffed a little, but after a while, her face turned up into a small grin as well.
“Any... Oh, that was good, Manhands. Any self-respecting pianist knows about Chopin’s Nocturne,” Quinn said, chuckling. She opened her car door. “Come on, are we going to get this done or what?” Rachel scrambled out quickly, and they walked to Rachel’s door.
“For the record, RuPaul?” Rachel looked up at her, eyebrow cocked. “I still hate you, even if we have similar musical tastes.” The brunette’s nose scrunched up slightly, but she shrugged, and opened the door.
\o/
“Sit.” Rachel pointed at her desk chair. “Back to me.” They had attempted to do their chemistry, but Rachel could tell that Quinn was much too excited about the pending massage to actually get anything done, so she put a stop to their work. Quinn smiled, moving into position.
“So...” she turned her head as Rachel as the brunette moved to stand behind her. Rachel grabbed her head, turning it back away from her, and started rubbing her shoulders soothingly.
“Hmm?” Rachel pressed slightly harder, moving towards her neck. Quinn groaned and relaxed, feeling the tension just flow away as Rachel continued her ministrations. “You didn’t listen to me about the hair drying thing.” With Rachel’s hand working magic on her (unknowingly stiff) neck, Quinn didn’t shake her head, opting to vocalize her answer. “Your neck and shoulders are just going to continue being sore if you don’t dry your hair, you know.” Rachel’s hand moved up her neck to the cavity behind her ears and pushed in, causing Quinn to let out a drawn out moan. Rachel continued to massage there, until Quinn’s head lolled forward, completely relaxed.
“Sorry,” she finally mumbled. Rachel chuckled slightly, moving her hand back down to the blonde’s back, rubbing neat circles that caused Quinn to completely slump over the back of the chair.
“Should I work on your knots today? Or should we wait til next time?” Rachel’s thumbs pushed into Quinn’s lower back and she whimpered.
“God, that hurts so good...” she panted, her eyes closing in bliss. “I don’t, I can’t...” Rachel hit a particularly sensitive spot, and she let out a quiet “Oh, God!”
“Next time, then.” Rachel smiled at having left the cheerleader breathless, and continued massaging her back.. “But I must inform you that massage tables are padded and made for people to lie down on for a reason. Next time, I think it would greatly benefit your experience, and my back as well, if we take this endeavor to the bed.”
“But...”
“Fabray. Bed. Now.” Quinn stiffened up completely, and Rachel’s eyebrow raised, amused. She softly squeezed Quinn’s shoulders, then stepped back. “ Never mind... Well... I guess we’re done for the day. I'll get you in my bed at some point, Fabray.” She walked back over to the floor, where they’d been sitting to work on their chemistry. “So... about this carbon molecular arrangement business. Want to explain this to me?”
“The allotropes?” Quin slid out of the chair, still slightly boneless from the massage, and knee-walked over to where Rachel was sitting.
“Yeah, those. I get that there’s, uh, graphite and diamonds or whatever, but why do I have to know what they look like?”
They spent the rest of the afternoon going over chemistry, until Quinn left for home, after getting a call from her mother about supper.
\o/
Somehow, the two of them ended up as lab partners a couple days later. Quinn had watched, amused, as Rachel carefully put the powdered materials on paper towels, then walked slowly to their station.
“There. I got the yellow smelly thing, and that black powdery thing. Now, uh, did you get the sparky thingy and the burny liquid stuff?”
“Yes, I got all those thingies, and do you actually suck at chemistry this much?” Quinn smirked, and Rachel blushed, nodding.
“I have no idea why I would want to take chemistry in the first place... I’m going to be on Broadway! Chemistry isn’t necessary for my future! Anyway, I may need your assistance on the lab write up as well.” She looked around, and leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Tonight? My place? The usual?” Quinn nodded.
“I have Cheerios practice today, but if you wait around, I’ll drive.”
\o/
Quinn was lounging around in shorts and a loose t-shirt on Rachel’s floor when Rachel groaned from her place at her laptop. “I don’t get it!”
“Wanna take a break?”
“That would be lovely, yes.” Getting out of her chair, she moved to her bed, and patted the covers.
“I’m not lying down on your bed, Berry.”
“I don’t expect you to. Come here.” Quinn moved reluctantly, but ended up perched on the side of Rachel’s bed. Rachel moved to kneel behind her.
“You know, you keep breaking my mental image of you.”
“How so?” Rachel’s hands moved slowly down Quinn’s spine, kneading and pressing, until Quinn relaxed, shifting backwards on the bed.
“Well, for one- oh God, ya, right there. Well, your room isn’t pink and sparkly...”
“It’s yellow, yes. I don’t see how you think I’d like pink so much, though.”
“Your wardrobe, Berry.” She paused, hissing when Rachel dug in slightly deeper. “You have an electric guitar, which is wicked cool. Do you play?”
Rachel paused, amused. “I used to, but then I decided that I wasn’t made for the rocker image.” She moved her hands up to Quinn’s shoulders, massaging gently. “Anyway, I’m going to work on your knots now.” Rachel pushed deep into Quinn’s shoulder, causing her to flinch. “This would be so much better if you were lying down.”
“Not a chance, man ha-Berry,” Quinn hissed out through gritted teeth, before gasping when Rachel found a particularly tight knot. “Oh, God!”
“Sorry...” Quinn could almost see Rachel’s apologetic face, but the brunette didn’t stop kneading and working Quinn’s knots. “These are only here because you don’t dry your hair. Well, they’re only this bad because of that.” Quinn exhaled slowly, controlling her breathing. “Will you consider my idea now?”
“What-” A gasp. “-idea?” Quinn whimpered. God, it was like fire coursing through her shoulder, down her arm, and up her neck. The burning... she couldn’t bring herself to think of anything besides the pain. Rachel reached around, placing one hand on top of Quinn’s clenched hands in her lap, squeezing lightly.
“Drying your hair.” Quinn went to laugh, but it came out as a weak ragged whimper. “Also, I’m sorry this has to hurt. It’s the only way to get knots out effectively...” Quinn closed her eyes tightly. “Just... try to relax.”
Quinn lasted only five more minutes before Rachel stopped kneading her shoulder. “Give it a bit,” she said, moving back to her desk. Quinn collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily.
By the time Quinn left that night, she was feeling much better.
\o/
That weekend, Rachel walked up her driveway after dance class, smirking at the familiar car parked in front of her house. She opened the door, singing out a greeting, to be greeted with the slightly awkward scene of Quinn, dressed casually, sitting rigidly on her couch, a cup of mango nectar sitting in front of her, making awkward small talk with her fathers. An exaggerated, “Oh! Quinn! I didn’t realize you were here!” earned her a glare from the blonde.
Her father, Abraham, bolted up, sweeping her into a tight hug. “Sweetie! How was dance practice?” She laughed as he spun her around; God, she loved her dads. “I’m sure it was wonderful!!” He stopped her, and flourished his hand towards the blonde on the couch. “This fine young lady has come to ask your hand in marriage!”
Quinn was struck dumb, eyes wide and bewildered, and Rachel couldn’t help but laugh internally, thanking her father for his obviously over-dramatic tendencies. “Oh, daddy, do tell me you said yes! Daddy!” Her bags came crashing down as she grasped enthusiastically at his clothing. “I’ll do anything for you to say yes, father!” She snuck a glance over to Peter, her other father, as he worked incredibly hard to disguise his amusement behind a stern expression. She rushed over, kneeling in front of him, grasping his knees. “Papa! Wouldn’t it just be wonderful! Can you imagine?” He burst out laughing, and with that, all three Berrys collapsed in a fit of giggles, Quinn letting out a confused whimper as her eyes flicked between the three.
“Uh... what?”
Peter, still chortling, told Rachel that Quinn had come over to work on their lab report. ‘Amongst other things,’ she thought to herself, but she dragged Quinn up, and dragged the blonde up to her room, Quinn barely having time to grab her bag.
“All three of you were...” Quinn shook her head. “I’m so confused.”
“Sorry, Daddy gets excited about guests... since we don’t get many, being gay and unpopular and all.” She plopped her bag down by the closet.
“I see where you get your dramatic side from...”
Rachel grabbed some casual clothing from her closet, and shrugged. “That’s true, yes. Anyway, I need to shower, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Feel free to start on the lab report, or look around the room. Actually, no. But, if you’re really bored, you can read something from my bookshelf, if you’d like. Just not my playbills, which are on the bottom shelf, or the music score, which is the shelf above that one.” She turned gracefully, and walked off, leaving Quinn to her own devices.
\o/
Twenty minutes saw Rachel coming back in, a towel wrapped around her head and a hair dryer in her hands. She plugged it in near the door, dropped the towel, and started blow drying her hair right there in the entrance. Quinn, propping herself up on her elbows, looked at her like she was insane from her spot on the bed. “This is what you’re supposed to do with this electrical device, Quinn! It’s called a hair dryer!” Rachel almost had to yell to be heard over the hair dryer. Quinn made a show of rolling her eyes, then flopping back down onto her stomach to read.
After ensuring that her hair was more than sufficiently dry, she left the rest to dry naturally. “What’re you reading?” Quinn held up the lab outline, smirking. “Well, aren’t you Miss Studious today! It’s not due til next Wednesday!”
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “I’m obviously not just here for the report... but I figured, since you were going to be showering, and I had to pretend to do work, I might as well actually do work.” She turned, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and sitting up stiffly. “I woke up with a horrid crick in my back today... I was hoping you could help me out.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Quinn rubbed her arms, slightly embarrassed. “I don’t have your number...”
Rachel shook her head and rolled her eyes, huffing a sigh. “You only want me for my body, anyway.” Quinn barked out a laugh, and Rachel pushed her lightly to lie back on her bed. “On your stomach, Quinn.” Quinn got back into her original position, and Rachel pulled one of her pillows over, propping it under Quinn’s forehead so that Quinn had room to breathe while lying face-down on her comforter.
Rachel moved to straddle Quinn’s back, but when Quinn felt her perched on her back, she pushed herself abruptly. “No, no way, Manhands. You’re not straddling my back, no way, no how.” Rachel quickly clambered off the bed and knelt directly beside the cheerleader.
“Where did it hurt?” Quinn weakly reached over to somewhere mid-back, poking at her right side. “Ah, well then. Shift over a little, to the edge of the bed.” Quinn complied, and when Rachel gently started rubbing around the bothered area, Quinn sighed, relaxing. “Since it actually hurt beforehand, I need you to be as vocal as possible. I need to know if I’m hurting you or if it’s helping.” Rachel pushed a little harder, and Quinn simply moaned, her voice muffled by the bed.
“I must’ve slept funny on it,” she said, exhaling loudly as Rachel’s hands massaged her stiff back.
“That happens...” Rachel commiserated, using the heels of her hand to push up Quinn’s back.
“Oh, God,” Quinn gasped, feeling a beautiful jolt of pain burn in her back. “Right there.” Rachel continued where she was, using her whole arm to knead the sore muscles. The weird pleasurable pain that Quinn was feeling grew, continuing and becoming constant. Her eyes drooped shut as she let out the occasional whimper or moan, encouraging Rachel to continue. A couple minutes later, Rachel sat back on her heels, picking up the assignment sheet that had dropped from Quinn’s limp hands at some point, reading it over. She walked over to her desk and sat down, writing down on a single piece of loose leaf some general ideas on how to answer the questions. She’d run them by Quinn when she woke up from her massage-induced nap.
\o/
A knock on the door shook Quinn from her nap, and she looked over at the offending sound to see Rachel open her door to speak softly with her dad (which one, Quinn wasn’t sure). Rachel glanced over at Quinn, and smiled. “Are you staying for supper? We’re getting Chinese.”
Quinn blinked lethargically, and simply nodded, before flopping over onto her back. It was completely better now, and it was still buzzing pleasurably where Rachel had been working earlier. She found it kind of odd that Rachel was capable of touching her at all, since she wasn’t usually very good with people touching her in the slightest. Whatever. She shook it off, refusing to think about it.
“Do you have to tell your mother where you are?”
Quinn let out a slight laugh. “No, but can you pass me my phone, anyway? It’s, uh, in the front pocket of my purse.” When Rachel passed it to her, she grabbed Rachel’s wrist, and pulled her to sit on the bed. She looked into Rachel’s eyes, completely sincere. “Thank you. Really.”
Rachel didn’t dare blink; she could barely breathe. “It’s... really no problem, Quinn.” Quinn let go, then flipped open her phone.
“Now, so that I don’t have to surprise your family with random visits, what’s your number?” After putting Rachel into her phone, she texted the girl. “There, now we both have each others’ numbers.”
Rachel chuckled. “What do you have me saved as?” She reached for Quinn’s phone. “Is it Manhands? Treasure Trail? RuPaul? Tranny? Your nicknames have always been amusing to me, because I really don’t know where they come from...”
Quinn flushed slightly in shame. “No... you’re Rachel. Rachel Berry.” She turned the phone so that Rachel could see. Rachel let out a little gasp; Quinn wasn’t lying. “I... I’m sorry.” She had no idea where this feeling of regret was coming from, and she just felt like she had to apologize. Rachel whipped her head over from staring at the screen to stare at Quinn, astounded. The diva’s brown eyes bore into Quinn’s, searching for any insincerity. Like before, when Quinn had thanked her, she could see none.
“But... you hate me.” Rachel’s voice came out slightly strangled, as if she was in awe.
Quinn shook her head slowly. “I... I don’t hate you, Rachel. Not anymore.”
TBC
A/N: So sorry for the extremely long update wait. Being in three studio courses means you are scrambling to finish assignments creatively, so I apparently killed off my muse for, like, 3 weeks after finals. Gah. Thanks to the anons and non-anons on tumblr and AIM for pushing me to finish this chapter!! I'm hoping it's still... what you're looking for.
Also, just in case you have never gotten knots worked on, it HURTS like a bitch. I've, like, been known to stop big hulking footbally guys by poking at spots that are known to have knots. Not that I ever actually had to fight or whatever, but they were being disagreeable, and I poked them... So getting them OUT requires excess massaging, and actually pushing hard on this overly painful spot. It doesn't even actually have to be hard. And it burns. It definitely feels a bajillion times better afterwards, but you have to get to that point first.
If you have a low pain tolerance, I'd suggest against getting that done. Stick to, like, light massaging.
Rating: PG (this one) / NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 3000+
Spoilers: Duets? Let's just say NBK...
Summary: Based on this prompt:
Quinn and Rachel not quite friends - Quinn finishes cheerleading practice one day with very tight muscles. Rachel gives her a surprisingly amazing massage. Quinn then seeks Rachel out for massages which get more and more heated.
Pairings: Eventual Faberry, with mentions of Fabrevans and Finchel
Chapter One
When Quinn Fabray woke up one morning several weeks later, she was cursing. She was cursing for a multitude of reasons.
Firstly, it was morning, and she was clearly not a morning person. Secondly, she had morning Cheerios practice before school, so, unlike 95% of the student population of Lima, Ohio, she had to be up before the sun was. Thirdly, she could feel all sorts of stiffness settling in on her shoulders and back, and had been feeling it since Rachel’s mind-blowing massage (she wasn’t cursing the massage, just that the massage made her aware of just how stiff she normally was).
Lastly, and most importantly, she was cursing herself for not having the presence of mind to have asked for Rachel’s number before. It wasn’t like she could risk anyone at school hearing her ask Rachel for her number! She couldn’t risk it, she was barely back on top as it was!
So she struggled through Cheerios morning practice, suffered through classes, and tried really hard not to glare a hole through Rachel during Glee club in a sad attempt to get her attention. Wasn’t Berry supposed to be psychic? Weren’t people supposed to be able to feel someone’s gaze or something?
Brittany reached across Santana to tap her on the shoulder. “Did Rachel do something to you?” She whispered. Quinn shook her head, still glaring. Pay. Attention. To. Me. Manhands. Rachel shifted in her chair, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. “Why are you looking at her so much, then? Because it looks like you’re trying to get her pregnant...”
Quinn whipped her head around, a comical amalgamation of confusion and shock on her face. “What?” She hissed, brow furrowed.
Santana leaned forward, blocking Brittany from view. “It’s true. You look like you want in Treasure Trail’s pants.” The Latina smirked, “Something you’re not telling us, Quinnie?”
“Ew. No. Just... no. And don’t call me that; it’s gross.” A scowl flitted across her face, and she turned back to Mr. Shuester... well, Rachel. I. Need. A. Massage. Rachel. Berry. Pay. Attention. To. Me. Gawd!
Rachel quickly turned around and smiled widely at Quinn, before nodding subtly and turning back to Mr. Shuester. Wait, what? Quinn’s befuddlement was getting a little out of hand.
About an hour later, Quinn walked out of the club room with Sam’s arm around her waist. “You want to do something later tonight?”
She looked up at him, amused smile on her face. “By do something, you mean make out, right?” He smiled sheepishly, nodding, and she smirked at him, head swirling slightly. “Sorry, I have some plans tonight... some other time?” He squeezed her side lightly, and she tensed until his hand dropped off her waist. He voiced his agreement, then walked down a different hall to his locker. Quinn exhaled sharply, not completely aware that she had even held her breath before continuing to her own, stopping slightly short of it when she saw Rachel waiting for her there. “Manhands... nice of you to grace my locker with your presence.”
Rachel smirked. “You need a massage, right?” Quinn nodded. “I need a ride today, as my parents are both busy. And I might possibly need help with chemistry.”
Quinn chuckled, and opened her locker, rifling through it for her things. “Well, lucky for you I’m good at chemistry, then, right, Berry?”
“Lucky me!” Rachel stated, whirling her fingers in fake cheer, before stopping short. “Hey, I should totally try out for the Cheerios. I’d be a great cheerleader, especially with my many years of dance and gymnastics training!” Her eyes sparked with mischief. “Look at my enthusiasm!”
Quinn chuckled, before closing her locker. Who knew Berry could be funny? “Let’s go, Crazy Face.”
\o/
Rachel crawled into the car, and smiled. “Let’s try my house this time, Quinn. I left some of my chemistry notes there that I’ll be needing, so we might as well just go there.” Quinn nodded... that made sense. Rachel’s place was on the way, anyway.
Quinn started her car, and Rachel immediately reached over to turn on the radio, flipping through stations as Quinn pulled out of the parking lot. “I love this song!” Rachel crowed, before humming along happily. Quinn was surprised... Rachel had settled on jazz, of all things.
She liked smooth jazz for the most part, but not... classic jazz, which they were stuck on. Quinn tried quite hard to not be bothered by the music from her speakers, but after a couple minutes, she just couldn’t take it anymore. At the next stop light, she reached over and changed the radio station to the college radio, and Rachel pouted. “Look, we’re almost at your house anyway. And I’m driving... Try to sing along or something. There’s always some weird indie stuff on after school...”
Rachel perked up, grinning. A generic indie rock song started playing, and, strangely enough, Rachel could hum along after a while, despite Quinn never having even heard of the band before. She was impressed. “Are there any songs you don’t know?”
Rachel nodded, smiling smugly. “It’s not about whether I know the songs... most music today is very generic, and follows the same general melody pattern. If you’re as inundated with music as I am, it’s pretty easy to guess what the composer’s going to go through to next. It’s all pretty easy.” She sighed, leaning back, and, surprisingly enough, Quinn found herself quite interested in what Rachel was saying. “Now, jazz... classical, they don’t do that so much, which is probably why I enjoy them a little more. Jazz has the whole improvisation aspect to the music, and it’s always hard to follow along with them... Classical is just... yeah. Mindblowing.” She closed her eyes, smiling.
Quinn glanced over at Rachel before turning her eyes back onto the road. “I always pegged you for a Broadway kinda gal.”
Rachel chuckled. “Most of you would, but my musical tastes far exceed that of just show tunes. While Barbra Streisand is my idol, there is more to me than just show choir. I press Broadway songs in Glee because that’s what we are: a show choir.” Quinn nodded, smiling. Rachel paused to collect her thoughts, before plowing onwards. “For example, Muse? Their music is delightfully alternative, but I really appreciate how they blend all the different music genres, especially their use of classical music and instruments.”
“Muse?” Quinn was shocked. Rachel Berry liked Muse?
“You don’t know Muse?!” Rachel seemed to be even more shocked than Quinn.
“No! No, I... I love Muse!” Quinn looked a little sheepish. “Just... don’t tell anyone.”
Rachel smirked. “Guilty pleasure of yours?”
Quinn nodded, face a little red. “I used to play the piano, so this one time, when I was at Puck’s, he had a Muse CD in, and.. well, United States of Eurasia started playing, and when it just segued into Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat Minor so effortlessly and beautifully, I was blown away...” Quinn pulled into a stop in front Rachel’s house, and turned to see Rachel completely gobsmacked. “What?”
“You know Chopin!” Silence reigned after Rachel’s exclamation.
Quinn finally snorted, then laughed, doubling over her gear shift to pat Rachel’s shoulder in amusement. Rachel huffed a little, but after a while, her face turned up into a small grin as well.
“Any... Oh, that was good, Manhands. Any self-respecting pianist knows about Chopin’s Nocturne,” Quinn said, chuckling. She opened her car door. “Come on, are we going to get this done or what?” Rachel scrambled out quickly, and they walked to Rachel’s door.
“For the record, RuPaul?” Rachel looked up at her, eyebrow cocked. “I still hate you, even if we have similar musical tastes.” The brunette’s nose scrunched up slightly, but she shrugged, and opened the door.
\o/
“Sit.” Rachel pointed at her desk chair. “Back to me.” They had attempted to do their chemistry, but Rachel could tell that Quinn was much too excited about the pending massage to actually get anything done, so she put a stop to their work. Quinn smiled, moving into position.
“So...” she turned her head as Rachel as the brunette moved to stand behind her. Rachel grabbed her head, turning it back away from her, and started rubbing her shoulders soothingly.
“Hmm?” Rachel pressed slightly harder, moving towards her neck. Quinn groaned and relaxed, feeling the tension just flow away as Rachel continued her ministrations. “You didn’t listen to me about the hair drying thing.” With Rachel’s hand working magic on her (unknowingly stiff) neck, Quinn didn’t shake her head, opting to vocalize her answer. “Your neck and shoulders are just going to continue being sore if you don’t dry your hair, you know.” Rachel’s hand moved up her neck to the cavity behind her ears and pushed in, causing Quinn to let out a drawn out moan. Rachel continued to massage there, until Quinn’s head lolled forward, completely relaxed.
“Sorry,” she finally mumbled. Rachel chuckled slightly, moving her hand back down to the blonde’s back, rubbing neat circles that caused Quinn to completely slump over the back of the chair.
“Should I work on your knots today? Or should we wait til next time?” Rachel’s thumbs pushed into Quinn’s lower back and she whimpered.
“God, that hurts so good...” she panted, her eyes closing in bliss. “I don’t, I can’t...” Rachel hit a particularly sensitive spot, and she let out a quiet “Oh, God!”
“Next time, then.” Rachel smiled at having left the cheerleader breathless, and continued massaging her back.. “But I must inform you that massage tables are padded and made for people to lie down on for a reason. Next time, I think it would greatly benefit your experience, and my back as well, if we take this endeavor to the bed.”
“But...”
“Fabray. Bed. Now.” Quinn stiffened up completely, and Rachel’s eyebrow raised, amused. She softly squeezed Quinn’s shoulders, then stepped back. “ Never mind... Well... I guess we’re done for the day. I'll get you in my bed at some point, Fabray.” She walked back over to the floor, where they’d been sitting to work on their chemistry. “So... about this carbon molecular arrangement business. Want to explain this to me?”
“The allotropes?” Quin slid out of the chair, still slightly boneless from the massage, and knee-walked over to where Rachel was sitting.
“Yeah, those. I get that there’s, uh, graphite and diamonds or whatever, but why do I have to know what they look like?”
They spent the rest of the afternoon going over chemistry, until Quinn left for home, after getting a call from her mother about supper.
\o/
Somehow, the two of them ended up as lab partners a couple days later. Quinn had watched, amused, as Rachel carefully put the powdered materials on paper towels, then walked slowly to their station.
“There. I got the yellow smelly thing, and that black powdery thing. Now, uh, did you get the sparky thingy and the burny liquid stuff?”
“Yes, I got all those thingies, and do you actually suck at chemistry this much?” Quinn smirked, and Rachel blushed, nodding.
“I have no idea why I would want to take chemistry in the first place... I’m going to be on Broadway! Chemistry isn’t necessary for my future! Anyway, I may need your assistance on the lab write up as well.” She looked around, and leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Tonight? My place? The usual?” Quinn nodded.
“I have Cheerios practice today, but if you wait around, I’ll drive.”
\o/
Quinn was lounging around in shorts and a loose t-shirt on Rachel’s floor when Rachel groaned from her place at her laptop. “I don’t get it!”
“Wanna take a break?”
“That would be lovely, yes.” Getting out of her chair, she moved to her bed, and patted the covers.
“I’m not lying down on your bed, Berry.”
“I don’t expect you to. Come here.” Quinn moved reluctantly, but ended up perched on the side of Rachel’s bed. Rachel moved to kneel behind her.
“You know, you keep breaking my mental image of you.”
“How so?” Rachel’s hands moved slowly down Quinn’s spine, kneading and pressing, until Quinn relaxed, shifting backwards on the bed.
“Well, for one- oh God, ya, right there. Well, your room isn’t pink and sparkly...”
“It’s yellow, yes. I don’t see how you think I’d like pink so much, though.”
“Your wardrobe, Berry.” She paused, hissing when Rachel dug in slightly deeper. “You have an electric guitar, which is wicked cool. Do you play?”
Rachel paused, amused. “I used to, but then I decided that I wasn’t made for the rocker image.” She moved her hands up to Quinn’s shoulders, massaging gently. “Anyway, I’m going to work on your knots now.” Rachel pushed deep into Quinn’s shoulder, causing her to flinch. “This would be so much better if you were lying down.”
“Not a chance, man ha-Berry,” Quinn hissed out through gritted teeth, before gasping when Rachel found a particularly tight knot. “Oh, God!”
“Sorry...” Quinn could almost see Rachel’s apologetic face, but the brunette didn’t stop kneading and working Quinn’s knots. “These are only here because you don’t dry your hair. Well, they’re only this bad because of that.” Quinn exhaled slowly, controlling her breathing. “Will you consider my idea now?”
“What-” A gasp. “-idea?” Quinn whimpered. God, it was like fire coursing through her shoulder, down her arm, and up her neck. The burning... she couldn’t bring herself to think of anything besides the pain. Rachel reached around, placing one hand on top of Quinn’s clenched hands in her lap, squeezing lightly.
“Drying your hair.” Quinn went to laugh, but it came out as a weak ragged whimper. “Also, I’m sorry this has to hurt. It’s the only way to get knots out effectively...” Quinn closed her eyes tightly. “Just... try to relax.”
Quinn lasted only five more minutes before Rachel stopped kneading her shoulder. “Give it a bit,” she said, moving back to her desk. Quinn collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily.
By the time Quinn left that night, she was feeling much better.
\o/
That weekend, Rachel walked up her driveway after dance class, smirking at the familiar car parked in front of her house. She opened the door, singing out a greeting, to be greeted with the slightly awkward scene of Quinn, dressed casually, sitting rigidly on her couch, a cup of mango nectar sitting in front of her, making awkward small talk with her fathers. An exaggerated, “Oh! Quinn! I didn’t realize you were here!” earned her a glare from the blonde.
Her father, Abraham, bolted up, sweeping her into a tight hug. “Sweetie! How was dance practice?” She laughed as he spun her around; God, she loved her dads. “I’m sure it was wonderful!!” He stopped her, and flourished his hand towards the blonde on the couch. “This fine young lady has come to ask your hand in marriage!”
Quinn was struck dumb, eyes wide and bewildered, and Rachel couldn’t help but laugh internally, thanking her father for his obviously over-dramatic tendencies. “Oh, daddy, do tell me you said yes! Daddy!” Her bags came crashing down as she grasped enthusiastically at his clothing. “I’ll do anything for you to say yes, father!” She snuck a glance over to Peter, her other father, as he worked incredibly hard to disguise his amusement behind a stern expression. She rushed over, kneeling in front of him, grasping his knees. “Papa! Wouldn’t it just be wonderful! Can you imagine?” He burst out laughing, and with that, all three Berrys collapsed in a fit of giggles, Quinn letting out a confused whimper as her eyes flicked between the three.
“Uh... what?”
Peter, still chortling, told Rachel that Quinn had come over to work on their lab report. ‘Amongst other things,’ she thought to herself, but she dragged Quinn up, and dragged the blonde up to her room, Quinn barely having time to grab her bag.
“All three of you were...” Quinn shook her head. “I’m so confused.”
“Sorry, Daddy gets excited about guests... since we don’t get many, being gay and unpopular and all.” She plopped her bag down by the closet.
“I see where you get your dramatic side from...”
Rachel grabbed some casual clothing from her closet, and shrugged. “That’s true, yes. Anyway, I need to shower, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Feel free to start on the lab report, or look around the room. Actually, no. But, if you’re really bored, you can read something from my bookshelf, if you’d like. Just not my playbills, which are on the bottom shelf, or the music score, which is the shelf above that one.” She turned gracefully, and walked off, leaving Quinn to her own devices.
\o/
Twenty minutes saw Rachel coming back in, a towel wrapped around her head and a hair dryer in her hands. She plugged it in near the door, dropped the towel, and started blow drying her hair right there in the entrance. Quinn, propping herself up on her elbows, looked at her like she was insane from her spot on the bed. “This is what you’re supposed to do with this electrical device, Quinn! It’s called a hair dryer!” Rachel almost had to yell to be heard over the hair dryer. Quinn made a show of rolling her eyes, then flopping back down onto her stomach to read.
After ensuring that her hair was more than sufficiently dry, she left the rest to dry naturally. “What’re you reading?” Quinn held up the lab outline, smirking. “Well, aren’t you Miss Studious today! It’s not due til next Wednesday!”
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “I’m obviously not just here for the report... but I figured, since you were going to be showering, and I had to pretend to do work, I might as well actually do work.” She turned, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and sitting up stiffly. “I woke up with a horrid crick in my back today... I was hoping you could help me out.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Quinn rubbed her arms, slightly embarrassed. “I don’t have your number...”
Rachel shook her head and rolled her eyes, huffing a sigh. “You only want me for my body, anyway.” Quinn barked out a laugh, and Rachel pushed her lightly to lie back on her bed. “On your stomach, Quinn.” Quinn got back into her original position, and Rachel pulled one of her pillows over, propping it under Quinn’s forehead so that Quinn had room to breathe while lying face-down on her comforter.
Rachel moved to straddle Quinn’s back, but when Quinn felt her perched on her back, she pushed herself abruptly. “No, no way, Manhands. You’re not straddling my back, no way, no how.” Rachel quickly clambered off the bed and knelt directly beside the cheerleader.
“Where did it hurt?” Quinn weakly reached over to somewhere mid-back, poking at her right side. “Ah, well then. Shift over a little, to the edge of the bed.” Quinn complied, and when Rachel gently started rubbing around the bothered area, Quinn sighed, relaxing. “Since it actually hurt beforehand, I need you to be as vocal as possible. I need to know if I’m hurting you or if it’s helping.” Rachel pushed a little harder, and Quinn simply moaned, her voice muffled by the bed.
“I must’ve slept funny on it,” she said, exhaling loudly as Rachel’s hands massaged her stiff back.
“That happens...” Rachel commiserated, using the heels of her hand to push up Quinn’s back.
“Oh, God,” Quinn gasped, feeling a beautiful jolt of pain burn in her back. “Right there.” Rachel continued where she was, using her whole arm to knead the sore muscles. The weird pleasurable pain that Quinn was feeling grew, continuing and becoming constant. Her eyes drooped shut as she let out the occasional whimper or moan, encouraging Rachel to continue. A couple minutes later, Rachel sat back on her heels, picking up the assignment sheet that had dropped from Quinn’s limp hands at some point, reading it over. She walked over to her desk and sat down, writing down on a single piece of loose leaf some general ideas on how to answer the questions. She’d run them by Quinn when she woke up from her massage-induced nap.
\o/
A knock on the door shook Quinn from her nap, and she looked over at the offending sound to see Rachel open her door to speak softly with her dad (which one, Quinn wasn’t sure). Rachel glanced over at Quinn, and smiled. “Are you staying for supper? We’re getting Chinese.”
Quinn blinked lethargically, and simply nodded, before flopping over onto her back. It was completely better now, and it was still buzzing pleasurably where Rachel had been working earlier. She found it kind of odd that Rachel was capable of touching her at all, since she wasn’t usually very good with people touching her in the slightest. Whatever. She shook it off, refusing to think about it.
“Do you have to tell your mother where you are?”
Quinn let out a slight laugh. “No, but can you pass me my phone, anyway? It’s, uh, in the front pocket of my purse.” When Rachel passed it to her, she grabbed Rachel’s wrist, and pulled her to sit on the bed. She looked into Rachel’s eyes, completely sincere. “Thank you. Really.”
Rachel didn’t dare blink; she could barely breathe. “It’s... really no problem, Quinn.” Quinn let go, then flipped open her phone.
“Now, so that I don’t have to surprise your family with random visits, what’s your number?” After putting Rachel into her phone, she texted the girl. “There, now we both have each others’ numbers.”
Rachel chuckled. “What do you have me saved as?” She reached for Quinn’s phone. “Is it Manhands? Treasure Trail? RuPaul? Tranny? Your nicknames have always been amusing to me, because I really don’t know where they come from...”
Quinn flushed slightly in shame. “No... you’re Rachel. Rachel Berry.” She turned the phone so that Rachel could see. Rachel let out a little gasp; Quinn wasn’t lying. “I... I’m sorry.” She had no idea where this feeling of regret was coming from, and she just felt like she had to apologize. Rachel whipped her head over from staring at the screen to stare at Quinn, astounded. The diva’s brown eyes bore into Quinn’s, searching for any insincerity. Like before, when Quinn had thanked her, she could see none.
“But... you hate me.” Rachel’s voice came out slightly strangled, as if she was in awe.
Quinn shook her head slowly. “I... I don’t hate you, Rachel. Not anymore.”
TBC
A/N: So sorry for the extremely long update wait. Being in three studio courses means you are scrambling to finish assignments creatively, so I apparently killed off my muse for, like, 3 weeks after finals. Gah. Thanks to the anons and non-anons on tumblr and AIM for pushing me to finish this chapter!! I'm hoping it's still... what you're looking for.
Also, just in case you have never gotten knots worked on, it HURTS like a bitch. I've, like, been known to stop big hulking footbally guys by poking at spots that are known to have knots. Not that I ever actually had to fight or whatever, but they were being disagreeable, and I poked them... So getting them OUT requires excess massaging, and actually pushing hard on this overly painful spot. It doesn't even actually have to be hard. And it burns. It definitely feels a bajillion times better afterwards, but you have to get to that point first.
If you have a low pain tolerance, I'd suggest against getting that done. Stick to, like, light massaging.