This Kiss, Chapter Nineteen
Title: This Kiss
Author: poetzproblem
Fandom Glee
Characters: Rachel Berry / Quinn Fabray
Word Count: ~4200
Rating: R
Summary: One pivotal moment can change everything.
Spoilers/Warnings: hrough A Very Glee Christmas. Then AU. Cursing, sexual references, Femslash.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the characters, just like to play with them.
A/N: Written for a Faberry prompt, but can't remember where. 'Rachel and Quinn share a kiss during a game of spin the bottle. From that night forward both girls desperately try to deny what they felt; what they feel. ..The other Glee kids know what’s up and attempt to play matchmaker.'
(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three) (Chapter Four) (Chapter Five) (Chapter Six) (Chapter Seven) (Chapter Eight) (Chapter Nine) (Chapter Ten) (Chapter Eleven) (Chapter Twelve) (Chapter Thirteen) (Chapter Fourteen) (Chapter Sixteen) (Chapter Sixteen) (Chapter Seventeen) (Chapter Eighteen)
The Object of Her Affections
Sam Evans rang the doorbell of the Fabray house at 6:28 pm. He'd texted Quinn almost an hour ago and asked to see her, telling her that he wanted to talk. Her first instinct had been to put him off. After the emotional roller coaster she'd been on today, she really didn't want to face her boyfriend, but when she'd texted back a no, her guilty conscience had started to bother her. She couldn't keep stringing him along, knowing how she felt about Rachel, and she couldn't really make any confessions to the girl while she was technically still with Sam.
Quinn was inherently a selfish person and completely aware of the fact. She'd never been very tolerant of anything that stood in the way of getting something that she really wanted, and apparently, she really wanted Rachel Berry. Go figure. Her long suppressed desires were suddenly screaming at her to claim the girl, and her relationship with Sam was in the way. So she'd texted him back and told him to come over, and now, here he was, and she kind of wanted to vomit.
She hadn't bothered dressing for the occasion, wearing just her sweats and a WMHS t-shirt, but she still took a second to smooth out the wrinkles and straighten her hair before opening the door with (she hoped) a friendly smile.
"Hi, Sam," she greeted.
"Hey." He bent down to give her a quick, closed mouth kiss that she automatically flinched away from-a fact that he definitely noticed if the slight frown on his face was any indication.
Quinn stepped back away from the door and let Sam come in, taking his jacket and laying across the back of the chair. She didn't really intend for him to be staying very long. She'd gone over what she wanted to say in her head before he'd arrived-the whole, it's not you, it's me mantra. And boy, was that ever true this time.
"So, is your mom home?" he asked a little too casually while he glanced around in search of the older Fabray.
"She's upstairs."
"Oh, uh...okay." He dropped down onto the sofa, leaned his elbows on his knees and stared down at his hands. Quinn's heart rate picked up a little when her eyes fell on the little blue ring box that she'd carefully set on the coffee table before he'd arrived. Yeah, that probably wasn't the best idea, attempting to subtly break up with your boyfriend via returned promise ring, but if Sam noticed the box, or realized what it meant, he didn't say.
"Sam, what do you want to talk about that couldn't wait until tomorrow?" she wanted to know, gingerly sitting down beside him.
"I guess…just," he sighed, angling his body toward her and looking into her eyes. "You and Rachel seemed okay today. You know…with getting locked up together."
Wait. Why was he bringing that up? Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "If you know who did that…"
"I don't. I swear," he said quickly. "But it wasn't terrible, was it? I mean, you seem like you," he hesitated, "like you're okay with her now."
Okay with her? Understatement of the century.
"Yeah, well, being locked up with someone for almost an hour makes you…deal with certain things." Like all your suppressed lesbian tendencies and the fact that you've been in love with said person for God knows how long.
Sam nodded, still intently studying her face in a way that made her slightly uncomfortable. "You were pissed at Finn on Friday for not trusting her," he pointed out.
"You took his side, thinking she cheated on him with Puck. She didn't, by the way," Quinn told him snippily.
Sam shook his head. "I never said she did. I just said Finn had some valid reasons for thinking it. I actually don't think that Rachel cheated on him physically, but you know…maybe emotionally," he tried to explain, leveling her with a weighted look. "Just…not with Puck."
"Well, then who?" she asked heatedly. Sam didn't verbally answer her, just raised his eyebrows and continued to look at her until she understood that he meant her. "Oh," she murmured under her breath, really feeling like she was about to vomit now. Her ears were buzzing a little and she gripped the sofa cushion like it was a life preserver. Sam started talking, and she had to struggle to catch all the words.
"Finn just kept telling me how distant Rachel was being, and that she wasn't into the physical stuff, like at all anymore, and she seemed like she was…thinking about someone else. And it all just sounded really familiar."
Quinn dragged in a painful lungful of air and fixed her gaze on her own right knee. She couldn't bare to look up and see the hurt and accusation in his eyes. "Sam…I…I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," he told her kindly. "I've kind of known this was coming since Puck's party."
She did look up then, eyes roaming over his face and seeing his resignation. "I didn't know it was coming. It just…happened," she finished lamely.
"I don't think it did," he argued knowingly.
"Okay, maybe it's been happening for awhile," she confessed. There was no point in denying it anymore.
"You like her," he stated simply without any accusation or anger in his voice.
She nodded slowly, "I think…it's more than like." She couldn't actually admit out loud that it was love. Not yet, and not to Sam, but he understood nonetheless.
"Oh."
"I'm so sorry, Sam," she breathed, gazing at his blurry image through increasingly teary eyes.
"Yeah, me too," he sighed.
"I swear that I never meant to hurt you." And she really hadn't. Superficial relationship aside, he was a really great guy-kind, and considerate and really cute. She should have been able to fall in love with him.
He managed a half-smile and shrugged a shoulder. "It only stings a little. I kind of knew you didn't love me," he admitted. "At least you're not dumping me for another guy."
"So, dumping you for a girl makes it better?" she couldn't resist asking, because she really would have thought that would be worse for a guy-like an insult to his masculinity or something stupid like that.
Sam's smile got a little wider. "Yeah, it kind of does, actually."
Okay, ew. "I swear to God if you ask to watch us make out, I'll have the hockey team drench you in so many blueberry slushies that you'll permanently pass for one of your stupid Avatar things."
"You've made out?" he asked with a glazed look in his eyes, completely ignoring the threat.
"No," she growled. "I don't…I don't even know if she…feels that way about me," and Quinn realized a little sickly that it was true. Her feelings might not be reciprocated. Yes, Rachel had wanted to talk about the undeniable tension between them, but she'd never made any confessions, or given any real indication that she was interested in anything more than friendship.
Sam frowned a little. "You haven't told her, then?"
"We haven't even talked about what happened at the party. Of course, I didn't tell her that I'm…"
"Gay?" he supplied helpfully.
Quinn felt most of her breath rush out of her. There is was-that word that she couldn't say-actually attached to her for the first time. And the world hadn't ended. God hadn't struck her down where she was sitting. She took a deep, cleansing breath and met Sam's eyes again. He didn't look angry, or disgusted by her. Everything was exactly as it had been five minutes ago but entirely different.
"You know, somehow I never imagined that my boyfriend would be the first person I'd come out to."
"Is that what you're doing? Coming out?" he asked gently.
Quinn swallowed heavily, whispering, "I don't know."
Sam smiled again. "Well, I can always be your big, gay beard if you want."
"Why would you do that?"
He cocked his head to side and grinned. "Honestly? It doesn't exactly hurt my image to be dating the head cheerleader."
"So you were just using me?" she accused him without any real malice. She'd be kind of a hypocrite to be mad about it when she'd been doing the same.
He shook his head in denial. "No, I wasn't. The popularity boost was just an added benefit to dating the most beautiful girl in school," he told her sincerely, and she felt herself blush at the compliment. "I care about you, Quinn. I don't want to just be nothing to you anymore, and if that means I'm your friend, or your lesbro, or your beard, then I'm okay with that."
Okay, crying again really sucked, but "God, you're such an amazing guy. I wish…"
"Yeah, me too," he agreed, cupping her face and tenderly wiping her tears away with his thumbs, "but you can't change how you feel, Quinn, and you shouldn't have to try."
"I'm kind of terrified right now," she admitted shakily. Everything was suddenly so real, and she didn't have a clue what to do next. Sensing her disquiet, Sam pulled her into his arms and she gratefully sank into his hug, resting her head on his strong shoulder.
"I'm here if you need to talk. And I know it's kind of the unpopular opinion at school, but for what it's worth, I think Rachel's actually a pretty amazing girl-when she's not trying so hard."
"She tries so hard because nobody ever meets her halfway," Quinn automatically defended, feeling kind of warm and fuzzy inside that Sam would say something so nice about the girl who his girlfriend was basically dumping him for. And didn't that sentence sound all kinds of weird in her head?
"See…you get her," he said, pulling back so he could look in her eyes, "and you're already defending her. That right there puts you light years ahead of Finn."
"It really doesn't take much," she said dryly, rolling her eyes, and Sam laughed a little-but only a little, because Finn was still his bro.
"So…what's the plan?" he finally asked.
"Plan?" she echoed stupidly.
"To woo Rachel? I mean, you have to have a plan right? You can't just walk up and kiss her."
But God did she ever want to. This whole self-realization thing had opened up the door for all her sexual fantasies to come spilling out. "You don't think that would work?" she joked.
Sam chuckled. "Would it work on you?"
"It sort of already did," she admitted, smiling at the memory of that incredible kiss.
"Yeah, I don't think you want Rachel to react as badly as you did, though," he told her, reminding her of her massive gay panic and how awful she'd been.
"I kind of thought we should just start with talking about our feelings, then go from there."
"Well, that's no fun," Sam pouted. "I figured you'd go for a serenade or something and I could be your guitarist."
Quinn laughed, knowing how much Rachel would actually love that. "Maybe later."
•••
When Quinn walked into school on Tuesday, it was like a switch had been flipped inside of her. She no longer felt the need to rationalize her daily eagerness to see Rachel as curiosity over what fashion disaster the girl would be wearing, or another opportunity to throw out an insult-or more recently, as friendly concern for her well-being. She could finally admit that she just wanted to see the object of her affections.
Unfortunately, there was still the not insignificant matter of finding out if Rachel could ever feel the same way. She knew there was a mutual attraction-that had been obvious enough since their kiss-but that didn't necessarily mean that Rachel wanted to date her. Not that Quinn was ready for dating another girl anyway, at least not publicly. The closet door might finally be open, but she wasn't planning on running through it anytime soon.
And that was another potential problem. Rachel Berry was not the type of person to ever agree to hiding in the closet with anyone, not even Quinn Fabray-not that she wasn't planning on using every weapon available in her vast arsenal to convince the girl otherwise. She already had more than a few tricks she was eager to try, so convincing Rachel could actually turn out to be really fun. But she was jumping the gun again. First talking, and then hopefully a little kissing, then they would talk some more (because Rachel excelled at that) and figure out if they had something worth fighting for. Quinn hoped they did, because it would really suck if the first girl she'd fallen for didn't love her back.
She knew Rachel cared about her. If the gentle way she'd treated Quinn yesterday hadn't been indication enough, then the concerned text from the singer last night asking if she was okay after her emotional breakdown cemented the fact. The exchange had been short and sweet-mostly because Quinn had kept erasing every really meaningful thing she tried to type.
The real problem was, Quinn had witnessed Rachel Berry in various states of infatuation on more than one occasion, and she knew the girl tended to be a little more…fixated on her crushes. The fact that she wasn't obsessing over Quinn and pursuing her with all she was worth-well, that didn't bode well for her chances at becoming more than Rachel's friend.
"So, Quinn, how goes the first day of the new you?" Sam asked, leaning against the wall beside her locker with a good-humored grin.
"Funny," she muttered, eyes absently scanning the hallway for a short brunette.
"Did you decide on the official party line?"
Quinn glanced up at him in confusion, "Party line?"
"Yeah, are you bearding up?"
Quinn grabbed his bicep and dug in her nails, hissing, "Shut up," as she frantically looked around to make sure no one had heard him. Satisfied that there were no unwanted ears listening in, she kept her voice carefully low. "Exactly where in our conversation last night did you get the idea that it would be okay to discuss this at school?"
"Sorry," he mumbled guiltily, and she released her death grip on his arm. "I just thought…"
"Well, don't," she snapped, then took a deep, calming breath. "Look, Sam, I really do appreciate that you're being so understanding about this whole thing, but that doesn't mean you get to run your mouth whenever you want. I still have a reputation to protect, and so do you." She narrowed her eyes. "Don't forget I know all about your comic book collection and the fact that you're not only fluent in Na'vi, but also Klingon. And then there's that adorable picture your mom showed me of you when you were twelve and wearing that…"
"Okay, okay, I get it. Good to know you haven't gone soft."
She grinned, tickled by the complement. "There's a reason I'm on top, Sam. I just need a little time and the perfect strategy and I'll get everything I want."
"Yeah, I think you probably will."
But by lunchtime, Quinn still hadn't formulated the perfect plan-a fact that frustrated her greatly because Rachel was all about plans and PowerPoints, and her own utter lack of direction would undoubtedly leave the girl completely unimpressed.
She'd seen Rachel twice in the hall between classes-completely by design on Quinn's part-but other than a smile and a friendly hello, how are you, they hadn't had time to talk. That didn't stop her from spinning around after they'd passed and sneaking a peak at Rachel's short polka dotted skirt from behind. It was a really nice view (even if she wished the knee socks would've stayed at home in a dark drawer.)
Quinn was bouncing on her toes as she maneuvered through the lunch line-something that Santana would have slapped her for if she'd been around-because Rachel was already laughing and talking with Kurt while she was wasting valuable time staring at the mystery meat just so she could pay for the stupid wilted lettuce that passed for a salad. She'd probably be too nervous to eat the stupid thing anyway. Sam was right behind her, and he placed a hand on her lower back, bending down to whisper, "What happened to cool and aloof?"
She glared back over her shoulder at his teasing smile. "Stuff it, Sam." Of course, he immediately made her feel guilty by slapping the money down to pay for her lunch as well as his own.
They made their way through the cafeteria and skipped over their normal table, garnering more than a few looks of confusion-Finn's being the most obvious. Santana shot her a knowing look, but there was a weird little smile on her lips that almost looked encouraging. Yeah, that had to be a trick of the light.
Taking a breath, Quinn slid onto the bench and scooted over to make room for Sam, bumping her hip and thigh right up against Rachel's-completely unintentionally, of course. The feel of soft, warm skin sent a shiver of awareness racing through her system. She felt the other girl jump in surprise and the muscles in her leg tense, but Rachel didn't flinch away from the contact, and she grinned. "Hi, Rach," she purred, ignoring the slightly dumbfounded expressions that Kurt and Mercedes were wearing and focusing all her attention on Rachel's beautiful, equally surprised face.
The girl recovered quickly enough, smiling that special Rachel smile that only seemed to come in those moments when she was feeling truly content. "Hello, Quinn. Sam," she added pleasantly, leaning forward to make eye contact with the boy, and Quinn noticed her smile grow just the tiniest bit forced around the edges when she addressed him.
"Hey," he nodded.
"Not that you aren't welcome to sit here, but why exactly are you?" Kurt asked.
Quinn pried her eyes from Rachel to raise an eyebrow at the boy. "Do I need to have a reason?"
"Of course not," Rachel cut in with a chastising look at Kurt. "We're happy to have you both join us, it's just…unexpected."
"Sometimes the best things are," Sam said with a slight chuckle in his voice, and Quinn jerked her elbow hard into his side. "Ow…H-how about Schuester's latest assignment?" he covered with cough, rubbing his hand over his bruised ribs. "You guys pick a song yet?"
Rachel's eyes went wide . "Kurt! You told me he didn't give out any assignments yesterday."
"He didn't exactly. He just asked us all to brainstorm possible duets to use at Regionals," Kurt reluctantly admitted.
"And you didn't share this with me!" Rachel exclaimed indignantly, placing her hands flat on the table and gearing up for a long-winded rant. "I should have started on a list of possible selections last night."
Kurt grimaced. "Rachel…"
"I need sufficient time to examine my extensive musical library and, of course, determine which of my potential male leads would best suit my list of song selections now that Finn is entirely out of the question..."
"Rachel…" he tried again.
"…and I have to prepare the sheet music to present to Mr. Schuester…"
"Rachel," Quinn said softly, giving into temptation and laying her left hand over the other girl's right and gently squeezing. The simple touch instantly silenced Rachel. "Don't worry about it. You could probably write that list in your sleep," she soothed, stifling her urge to giggle at how adorably confused Rachel looked staring down at their joined hands.
From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Kurt and Mercedes share a stunned glance, but when she turned her full attention on them, Mercedes was already aiming an annoyed glare at Rachel. "Besides…nobody says you're gonna be singing lead."
"And nobody says she isn't," Quinn calmly challenged. She adored Mercedes, but really, when it came to star quality…Rachel would win hands down every time. She'd been able to admit that much even when she'd been convinced she hated the girl.
"Perhaps this time Mr. Schuester will handle things professionally and actually hold auditions for the featured solos," Kurt offered fairly.
"Auditions?" Rachel squeaked, finally snapping her eyes away from Quinn's hand still warmly resting over her own and rejoining the conversation.
"It's only fair, right? Best singer wins."
Rachel's eyes narrowed on her vocal rival, and her hand slipped out from under Quinn's as she moved to cross her arms. "Is that a challenge, Mercedes?"
"Always, girlfriend," she responded with a genuine smile.
"It's so on," Rachel growled playfully, and Quinn shivered in anticipation. Confident Rachel was so freaking hot.
"Yeah, but what are the chances of Mr. Schuester doing that?" Sam wanted to know.
"Slim to none," Kurt responded, and they all nodded their agreement.
Rachel picked up her fork and speared a tomato. Quinn glanced down at her own salad, idly wondering why she didn't get any tomatoes, just lettuce and cucumbers. She really liked tomatoes, especially that one that was currently hovering in front of Rachel's lips.
Yeah, watching her eat isn't freaky at all, Fabray. But God, that mouth!
Quinn sucked in a breath and gathered up her courage. "So, Rachel, do you…maybe want to…hang out tonight?"
Oh, you are so lame!
Rachel froze, fork in mid-air. "Hang…out?" she echoed.
"I have practice after school, but we could get together later and do something," like make out in my bedroom all night. "Watch a movie or," Quinn paused, dropping her voice and licking her lips, "talk."
"Talk?"
Again with the repeating? And the blank expression is not really boosting my confidence here.
"Yes. Talk," she said meaningfully, trying to convey with her eyes the weight of that word.
"Oh." Quinn watched Rachel's eyes spark with comprehension. Her cheeks blushed pink and her breathing grew a little shallow. "Ah…I don't," she cleared her throat and dropped her dark eyes to the table. "I actually have a dance class tonight," she finally rushed out.
Quinn's heart sank at the rejection, and she whispered, "Oh."
"What? Rachel you don't…Oh my god!" Kurt shrieked, jumping up from his seat when Rachel flailed her hand and sent his nearby slushie cup spilling over the table and into his lap. "This is an Alexander McQueen! Rachel Barbra Berry, I'm going to kill you," he growled, carefully dabbing at the icy slush.
Rachel looked horrified. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I'll help you clean it up."
"Clean it? You don't just rinse out a designer sweater in the sink," Kurt wailed.
"Then I'll pay for the dry cleaning bill," she vowed.
"Ugh!" Kurt turned heal and fled, presumably for the nearest bathroom.
Rachel stood abruptly and shot an apologetic look to the other three people at the table. "I should…ah…I'm just going to…go…and…apologize," she explained, casting one last sorrowful glance at Quinn before she ran after her friend.
Quinn sat there staring at the puff of smoke that Rachel had disappeared into. She wasn't stupid. She knew what had just happened. Rachel pulled an excuse out of her ass to avoid being alone with Quinn, going so far as to accidentally slushie Kurt's sweater so he wouldn't rat her out.
She felt like she couldn't breath properly, like her heart didn't want to keep beating. How could Rachel do that to her? They'd kissed, damn it. They'd had moments. There was flirting. Ten minutes ago, Rachel had been pressing her leg back against Quinn's under the table and reacting to her touch. Quinn couldn't have been imagining all of that.
"Hey, you okay," Sam murmured in her ear.
"You don't look so hot, Quinn," Mercedes added.
"I'm fine," she muttered, pushing her tray away. "Just…lost my appetite."
She hastily stood from the table and bolted, ignoring her friends' concerned looks. She didn't even know where she was going, just that she needed to be away from Sam and Mercedes before she said or did something she'd regret. Okay, so what? Rachel hadn't just jumped into her arms like she was supposed to-like any normal person would do when Quinn Fabray expressed an interest. Rachel had never been normal. Quinn could deal with that. She just needed to take a moment to regroup and…
No.
This was not okay.
Quinn would be damned if she was just going to let Rachel Berry run away from this thing between them like a scared rabbit. Dance class? Fine. She wanted to play it that way, so be it. They were going to have that talk eventually, even if she had to lock them up in another classroom to do it.
Chapter Twenty