I can make you feel real good (1/?)
Title: I can make you feel real good (1/?)
Rating: PG (this one) / NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 2000+
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
Again, I will edit this when my editor gets back to me with the edits (which will probably be in the morning, but I will probably not find that out until tonight). I just wanted to send the link to the good people at the kinkmeme, since, like, all fills are kurt-related...
Note: In this fic, Quinn is slightly thixophobic, aka she has a fear of human contact, specifically of touching people of the opposite gender. She just doesn’t know that yet...
Quinn Fabray stepped slowly out of the shower in the Cheerios locker room after practice, and rubbed at a crick in her neck. There had been something odd in the routine today, though she wasn’t sure what, but there had been a lot of unwarranted strain on her shoulders and neck when the girls had thrown her up onto the pyramid earlier.
Sue Sylvester had called them sloppy and dismissed them early (which was incredibly rare), stopping Quinn, because she had something important to tell her.
This meant that the showers were all occupied when she got into the locker room, and by the time she could take her shower, the water was cold, and had done nothing in aiding her muscles in loosening up. She was already formulating a plan so she could get a nice massage from Sam. Maybe she could say something about how massaging her was touching her in places he didn’t usually get to touch, or something. She smiled, and pulled on a t-shirt; she was certain that this approach would work on the boy. She just hoped he didn’t want her to reciprocate, because she hated giving massages. Something about touching people grossed her out a little. It was usually okay to a point, but after that... She shuddered just thinking about it!
With her hair down and still wet (no one was at school this late, usually, so she didn’t have to care about appearances), she shouldered her Cheerios bag, wincing as the strap dug into her shoulder. She hadn’t really noticed just how sore she was until that point, and made it a priority to find Sam as soon as she got out of the school.
The hallway was as deserted as usual... well, save for Rachel Berry standing at her open locker, texting. In order to leave the school as quickly as possible, Quinn would have to walk by the petite diva and risk the awkward and long conversation that would inevitably occur if the other girl noticed her walking by. She wasn’t in the mood to be snarky and cruel, just wanting to relax, but getting out was important, and the all the other ways out of the school and to her car took at least an extra five minutes. That was five minutes she couldn’t spare, so she decided to chance it, and started walking down the hall.
It was just her luck that just as she reached Rachel’s locker area, the diva closed her locker and noticed her. “Hi, Quinn!” Quinn nodded at her to acknowledge her fellow glee clubber’s existence, and continued her brisk pace towards the door. To her chagrin, Rachel followed at the same pace. “Are you just heading home from Cheerio’s practice?” Without waiting for Quinn to respond, Rachel forged onwards. “I was in the auditorium practicing my scales and runs. You know, basics are important, Quinn... maybe we should practice singing scales in Glee club; I’ll have to suggest it to Mr. Shuester. Anyway, I was waiting for my dad to call and say he was on his way to pick me up, but for some reason, he can’t make it today. He texted me to say that there has been some sort of emergency at his work, and I was afraid I would have to walk home, or worse, take public transit, so it is absolutely wonderful that you’re still here! I was wondering if it would be at all possible for you to drive me home... I’ll be sure to repay you with a batch of my famous Thank You cookies, if you would.” Rachel took a deep breath, and smiled hopefully at the blonde.
Quinn stopped at her car, and turned to the hopeful brunette with her lips pursed in thought. Rachel had mentioned repaying her for a ride home... and with Coach Sylvester’s weigh-in looming on the horizon, she knew she couldn’t indulge in the cookies, despite knowing how delicious they were (They were, after all, famous for a reason). However, she was incredibly sore, and if Rachel gave her a massage instead, she wouldn’t have to risk the possibility of touching Sam any more than she needed to.
She unlocked her car, and turned to the girl, “Make it a massage, and you’ve got yourself a deal, Berry.” Rachel threw her bag into the back seat, and grinned at the other girl. “Do you have to go home right away...? or...” The diva shook her head, and Quinn relaxed a little, pulling out of the parking lot. “Okay, so, uh... How about we go back to my place first, for the massage, then I’ll take you back to your place.”
“That sounds like a good plan... Did you hurt yourself during Cheerios practice? Because, you know, if you pulled a muscle, you really shouldn’t massage it until a couple days later. It would be better to just leave a hot compress on it a couple hours for the next three days, then going for-”
“Shut!”
Rachel’s mouth snapped closed instantly, eyes widening at the single biting word out of the blonde’s mouth.
Quinn quickly glanced over apologetically. “Sorry... it’s just, well, I just got my license a month ago, and I still need to focus on the road or whatever.” Rachel nodded understandingly, relaxed slightly, and, thankfully, kept her mouth shut. “Anyway, no, no pulled muscle... just stiff shoulders. The usual, I guess.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel nod understandingly. The silence in the car was suffocatingly awkward, so at the next set of lights, Quinn turned on the radio, switching to a channel that wasn’t continually playing commercials. Rachel smiled at the gesture, and sang softly along with whatever songs she knew for the rest of the ride, though never really loud enough to distract the blonde from her driving.
Pulling into her driveway, Quinn was surprised to see that her mother wasn’t home. Quinn figured she was probably out with her socialite friends, and thus wouldn’t be home until much later that night, meaning she was left alone to deal with supper. Again. She was getting tired of take out, really, but she wasn’t tired enough to learn to cook just yet. “Here we are,” she said, turning to the brunette next to her. “Just... before you go in, I want you to understand that... just... don’t touch anything. My mom doesn’t like people contaminating her stuff.” Rachel looked bewildered and slightly hurt, but nodded, confused. Just as the girl opened her mouth to say something, Quinn opened her door and got out of the car, slamming her door on whatever Rachel was going to say. Her mother was more than slightly anal about things being in proper places, and people touching things. Quinn knew that her mom would know that someone had touched her precious collectibles if she didn’t warn Rachel first.
Once in the door, Quinn set her Cheerios bag in the designated gym bag spot, hung her key ring on her designated key hook, and walked up to her room to put her backpack on the floor of her room somewhere. She then walked back down to the foyer, having forgotten to tell Rachel to follow her. Rachel was standing stock still in the foyer, obviously stunned by the vast amount of... expensive stuff in the Fabray home.
“You want something to drink?” Rachel nodded, following Quinn into the kitchen. Quinn pulled out a bottle of lime-ade from the fridge. “This okay?” Rachel nodded again, holding her bag to her chest. Quinn poured two glasses, grabbed an un-open box of wheat thins (the only vegan thing in the entire house, besides slightly spoiled fruit), and trudged back up the stairs, indicating Rachel follow her.
“So...” Rachel started once in Quinn’s room. Quinn cocked an eyebrow. “How was practice?” Oh, Rachel Berry was attempting small talk, how incredibly cute!
Quinn took a sip of her limeade to hide her smirk.
“I’m going to assume it wasn’t as good as it usually is, because your shoulders are now in need of a massage, and-”
“Yeah, it wasn’t the best, but... well, it’s always like this with Coach Sylvester. You get kind of used to it, I guess.” Rachel nodded, and nibbled on a wheat thin. “Oh, and, uh... you can touch stuff in this room... my mom just has this thing against people touching her stuff. She’s a little OCD that way.”
“Oh... alright. I was wondering, since it seemed a little odd that you would mention contamination... I thought maybe it was the gay germs that are inevitably on me from me having two gay dads.” Quinn shook her head, and chuckled.
The silence that fell over them wasn’t as awkward as it was previously in the car, but she still felt like it’d need some filling, so she plugged her iPod into her computer speakers, and put it on shuffle. “Sorry I don’t have all that many show tunes...”
Rachel shook her head and smiled slightly at the gesture, “My musical tastes are much more varied than sticking to musical soundtracks and the like... If you’ll remember, I was singing Paramore a couple weeks ago, and I’ve never had any trouble singing whatever modern songs Mr Shuester chooses for our repertoire.”
Quinn nodded absently, drained her glass, and jumped onto her computer chair, back to her front. “Whenever you’re ready, then.” Rachel looked up at her quizzically. “For the massage, Berry. It’s why you’re here, and why I’m bearing your company, remember?”
“Oh, right. Okay.” Rachel quickly finished her wheat thin and limeade, and walked behind the blonde cheerleader. The hands that started rubbing Quinn’s shoulders were hesitant and barely there, and Quinn suppressed a groan of frustration. “So... uh, where is it sore?”
Quinn rolled her eyes. “Have you never given a shoulder massage before, Manhands?”
“Well, yes, I have, but never to a girl. I give my fathers backrubs and massages all the time, because they always forget to stretch before partaking in physical activity. I’m just afraid that I may use too much force, and hurt you in the process. My father claims that my massages are better than those of our paid massage therapist.”
“Well, you’re doing nothing for me now! I need you to go harder... I’m sure that with all your amazing skills and experience, you’ll be able to tell me where it hurts.” She didn’t hear any response from Rachel. Instead, she felt Rachel’s thumbs slowly kneading at the point where her shoulders and neck met. Damn, she was good at this... Quinn let out a hum of contentment, and relaxed her posture completely, feeling the relaxing effects of Rachel’s massage. Rachel’s fingers hit just the right spot with just the right amount of pressure, and she completely melted.
A couple minutes into the massage, Rachel reached down and pushed Quinn’s lower back forward. “Don’t slouch,” she said, simply continuing her slow massage. Quinn’s shoulders felt like they were on fire, in a good way, and she purred under her breath, only to have her breath catch in her throat and shoulders tense when Rachel found a particularly painful spot. “My God, you have the most horrendous knots!” Quinn nodded... cheerleading could do that to a person. “You’re also incredibly tight.” Rachel’s hand brushed Quinn’s hair off her neck, and started working her neck, squeezing both sides with just the right amount of pressure. “You should relax more. Also, the whole wet hair thing? It has to stop, because that’ll cause more knots to start forming in your shoulders.” There was a pause, during which Quinn’s eyes fluttered shut again in contentment. “Is this good?”
“Mmmmmmm... very, Berry.” Rachel let out a small giggle and eyeroll at Quinn’s accidental (albeit lame) rhyme, but didn’t stop her ministrations. “In fact, it’s marvelous.” Rachel went back to Quinn’s shoulders, working slowly out from the neck towards her upper arms. Quinn let out a quiet moan, “My God, you’re good at this. I think I might have to give you rides more often...”
Rachel chuckled at this as she started softly pounding up and down Quinn’s back. “That would be wonderful, I think... It’d save my father some time, and perhaps, if it becomes a regular thing, we can do our homework together?”
“Sounds like a plan... Oh my God, I sound like a motorboat!” Quinn started singing a random note, as Rachel continued to pound on Quinn’s back.
Rachel laughed, shaking her head. She’d never seen the head cheerleader acting so childish before. “Maybe next time, we’ll work on those knots, but for today, I just want you to relax, maybe just work out the surface soreness, before it settles and hardens the babies you have in your back. They’re incredibly large knots, you know, and they’re pretty deep, too.”
Quinn didn’t doubt it, since Rachel definitely seemed to know what she was talking about. The diva had switched back to kneading with her thumbs, but was working her way down her sides to her lower back. She let out a groan when Rachel found a particular spot by her hips. “I didn’t even know I was sore there,” she said softly.
“I presume it’s leftover from your pregnancy... Actually, I presume most of your knots are leftover from your pregnancy. The change in posture and the extra weight most likely wreaked havoc on your muscles... and did you have an epidural?” Quinn nodded. “Well, I read somewhere that the place where you get an epidural will, for some reason, constantly be sore.” Rachel slowed her hands, then patted Quinn on the shoulders. “That should do for now! How do you feel?”
“Amazing. You have, like, magic fingers or something.” Quinn swiveled in her chair to see Rachel blushing at the compliment. She muttered a thank you. “No, seriously, if you decide Broadway’s not for you, I’ll pay you to give me daily massages!” Rachel smirked, and moved to let Quinn out of her chair.
“Well, I guess I should be going home now...” Quinn cocked an eyebrow, then remembered that she’d only gotten Rachel to give her a massage because she’d promised a ride home.
“Right...” They both went downstairs, and she grabbed her keys before blurting, “Do you want to stay for supper?” It surprised the both of them, and Quinn felt a slight blush on her cheeks. The verbal logorrhea probably had something to do with the relaxed and content state Rachel had left her in. Rachel was looking at her like she’d grown a third head (skipping the second one entirely), and Quinn fought the urge to laugh.
“You hate me...” Rachel said, warily.
Quinn nodded, “I do. Just... not as much anymore, after that massage. And, well...” She gestured at the house. “I’m alone in this freakishly... freakish place until my mom gets home at whenever she gets in. I have to call in take-out, but, well, it’d be nice to have some company. And that was a damn good massage, so I feel like just giving you a ride home wouldn’t suffice.” Rachel obviously didn’t trust her, eyebrow raised in doubt.
Quinn sighed. “Look, I’ll have you home in time for your nightly MySpace video, okay?”
Rachel brightened slightly at the mention of routine, and fished out her phone. “I just have to text both my fathers to notify them of my whereabouts.” Her fingers flew over her bedazzled phone’s numpad.
Quinn nodded. “Anything specific you’d like?” she asked, placing her keys back on the designated key hook.
“There’s this Thai place...”
\o/
A/N: I love to give massages to people (I just hate hearing people complain about back pain), but I’ve never really received a satisfactory massage. Hopefully, I conveyed the awesomeness of Rachel’s magic fingers to y’all. Also, in this universe, Rachel, like me, doesn’t like to talk too much when giving massages, instead focusing on giving pleasure to the person being massaged. Pressure and stuff is important, and too much or too little can lead to discomfort. So, lots of concentration is involved with a good massage.
Apparently I give good massages. I’m pretty sure some people I know are only my friends because I give damn good ones... I’ve been told that I must teach boyfriends, significant others, and other people how to give good ones, and some of Quinn’s responses are actual responses I’ve had from friends and classmates (and teachers). Especially the “I’ll pay you if your life doesn’t turn out as planned” bit.
I personally believe that a massage is a very sensual and beautiful thing that someone can give to another person... hopefully a kind of sensuality permeated in this piece. I tried, anyway.
A/N2: In case you can’t tell, the heating up of the massages will be slow. Almost parabolic. Slow to begin with, then speeding up quickly near the end. I refuse to rush into things, just because it’s a kink meme prompt.
Next Chapter: Quinn is massaged by Rachel... Rachel starts working on knots. Oh, and things start heating up.
Rating: PG (this one) / NC-17 (whole fic)
Length: 2000+
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
Again, I will edit this when my editor gets back to me with the edits (which will probably be in the morning, but I will probably not find that out until tonight). I just wanted to send the link to the good people at the kinkmeme, since, like, all fills are kurt-related...
Note: In this fic, Quinn is slightly thixophobic, aka she has a fear of human contact, specifically of touching people of the opposite gender. She just doesn’t know that yet...
Quinn Fabray stepped slowly out of the shower in the Cheerios locker room after practice, and rubbed at a crick in her neck. There had been something odd in the routine today, though she wasn’t sure what, but there had been a lot of unwarranted strain on her shoulders and neck when the girls had thrown her up onto the pyramid earlier.
Sue Sylvester had called them sloppy and dismissed them early (which was incredibly rare), stopping Quinn, because she had something important to tell her.
This meant that the showers were all occupied when she got into the locker room, and by the time she could take her shower, the water was cold, and had done nothing in aiding her muscles in loosening up. She was already formulating a plan so she could get a nice massage from Sam. Maybe she could say something about how massaging her was touching her in places he didn’t usually get to touch, or something. She smiled, and pulled on a t-shirt; she was certain that this approach would work on the boy. She just hoped he didn’t want her to reciprocate, because she hated giving massages. Something about touching people grossed her out a little. It was usually okay to a point, but after that... She shuddered just thinking about it!
With her hair down and still wet (no one was at school this late, usually, so she didn’t have to care about appearances), she shouldered her Cheerios bag, wincing as the strap dug into her shoulder. She hadn’t really noticed just how sore she was until that point, and made it a priority to find Sam as soon as she got out of the school.
The hallway was as deserted as usual... well, save for Rachel Berry standing at her open locker, texting. In order to leave the school as quickly as possible, Quinn would have to walk by the petite diva and risk the awkward and long conversation that would inevitably occur if the other girl noticed her walking by. She wasn’t in the mood to be snarky and cruel, just wanting to relax, but getting out was important, and the all the other ways out of the school and to her car took at least an extra five minutes. That was five minutes she couldn’t spare, so she decided to chance it, and started walking down the hall.
It was just her luck that just as she reached Rachel’s locker area, the diva closed her locker and noticed her. “Hi, Quinn!” Quinn nodded at her to acknowledge her fellow glee clubber’s existence, and continued her brisk pace towards the door. To her chagrin, Rachel followed at the same pace. “Are you just heading home from Cheerio’s practice?” Without waiting for Quinn to respond, Rachel forged onwards. “I was in the auditorium practicing my scales and runs. You know, basics are important, Quinn... maybe we should practice singing scales in Glee club; I’ll have to suggest it to Mr. Shuester. Anyway, I was waiting for my dad to call and say he was on his way to pick me up, but for some reason, he can’t make it today. He texted me to say that there has been some sort of emergency at his work, and I was afraid I would have to walk home, or worse, take public transit, so it is absolutely wonderful that you’re still here! I was wondering if it would be at all possible for you to drive me home... I’ll be sure to repay you with a batch of my famous Thank You cookies, if you would.” Rachel took a deep breath, and smiled hopefully at the blonde.
Quinn stopped at her car, and turned to the hopeful brunette with her lips pursed in thought. Rachel had mentioned repaying her for a ride home... and with Coach Sylvester’s weigh-in looming on the horizon, she knew she couldn’t indulge in the cookies, despite knowing how delicious they were (They were, after all, famous for a reason). However, she was incredibly sore, and if Rachel gave her a massage instead, she wouldn’t have to risk the possibility of touching Sam any more than she needed to.
She unlocked her car, and turned to the girl, “Make it a massage, and you’ve got yourself a deal, Berry.” Rachel threw her bag into the back seat, and grinned at the other girl. “Do you have to go home right away...? or...” The diva shook her head, and Quinn relaxed a little, pulling out of the parking lot. “Okay, so, uh... How about we go back to my place first, for the massage, then I’ll take you back to your place.”
“That sounds like a good plan... Did you hurt yourself during Cheerios practice? Because, you know, if you pulled a muscle, you really shouldn’t massage it until a couple days later. It would be better to just leave a hot compress on it a couple hours for the next three days, then going for-”
“Shut!”
Rachel’s mouth snapped closed instantly, eyes widening at the single biting word out of the blonde’s mouth.
Quinn quickly glanced over apologetically. “Sorry... it’s just, well, I just got my license a month ago, and I still need to focus on the road or whatever.” Rachel nodded understandingly, relaxed slightly, and, thankfully, kept her mouth shut. “Anyway, no, no pulled muscle... just stiff shoulders. The usual, I guess.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel nod understandingly. The silence in the car was suffocatingly awkward, so at the next set of lights, Quinn turned on the radio, switching to a channel that wasn’t continually playing commercials. Rachel smiled at the gesture, and sang softly along with whatever songs she knew for the rest of the ride, though never really loud enough to distract the blonde from her driving.
Pulling into her driveway, Quinn was surprised to see that her mother wasn’t home. Quinn figured she was probably out with her socialite friends, and thus wouldn’t be home until much later that night, meaning she was left alone to deal with supper. Again. She was getting tired of take out, really, but she wasn’t tired enough to learn to cook just yet. “Here we are,” she said, turning to the brunette next to her. “Just... before you go in, I want you to understand that... just... don’t touch anything. My mom doesn’t like people contaminating her stuff.” Rachel looked bewildered and slightly hurt, but nodded, confused. Just as the girl opened her mouth to say something, Quinn opened her door and got out of the car, slamming her door on whatever Rachel was going to say. Her mother was more than slightly anal about things being in proper places, and people touching things. Quinn knew that her mom would know that someone had touched her precious collectibles if she didn’t warn Rachel first.
Once in the door, Quinn set her Cheerios bag in the designated gym bag spot, hung her key ring on her designated key hook, and walked up to her room to put her backpack on the floor of her room somewhere. She then walked back down to the foyer, having forgotten to tell Rachel to follow her. Rachel was standing stock still in the foyer, obviously stunned by the vast amount of... expensive stuff in the Fabray home.
“You want something to drink?” Rachel nodded, following Quinn into the kitchen. Quinn pulled out a bottle of lime-ade from the fridge. “This okay?” Rachel nodded again, holding her bag to her chest. Quinn poured two glasses, grabbed an un-open box of wheat thins (the only vegan thing in the entire house, besides slightly spoiled fruit), and trudged back up the stairs, indicating Rachel follow her.
“So...” Rachel started once in Quinn’s room. Quinn cocked an eyebrow. “How was practice?” Oh, Rachel Berry was attempting small talk, how incredibly cute!
Quinn took a sip of her limeade to hide her smirk.
“I’m going to assume it wasn’t as good as it usually is, because your shoulders are now in need of a massage, and-”
“Yeah, it wasn’t the best, but... well, it’s always like this with Coach Sylvester. You get kind of used to it, I guess.” Rachel nodded, and nibbled on a wheat thin. “Oh, and, uh... you can touch stuff in this room... my mom just has this thing against people touching her stuff. She’s a little OCD that way.”
“Oh... alright. I was wondering, since it seemed a little odd that you would mention contamination... I thought maybe it was the gay germs that are inevitably on me from me having two gay dads.” Quinn shook her head, and chuckled.
The silence that fell over them wasn’t as awkward as it was previously in the car, but she still felt like it’d need some filling, so she plugged her iPod into her computer speakers, and put it on shuffle. “Sorry I don’t have all that many show tunes...”
Rachel shook her head and smiled slightly at the gesture, “My musical tastes are much more varied than sticking to musical soundtracks and the like... If you’ll remember, I was singing Paramore a couple weeks ago, and I’ve never had any trouble singing whatever modern songs Mr Shuester chooses for our repertoire.”
Quinn nodded absently, drained her glass, and jumped onto her computer chair, back to her front. “Whenever you’re ready, then.” Rachel looked up at her quizzically. “For the massage, Berry. It’s why you’re here, and why I’m bearing your company, remember?”
“Oh, right. Okay.” Rachel quickly finished her wheat thin and limeade, and walked behind the blonde cheerleader. The hands that started rubbing Quinn’s shoulders were hesitant and barely there, and Quinn suppressed a groan of frustration. “So... uh, where is it sore?”
Quinn rolled her eyes. “Have you never given a shoulder massage before, Manhands?”
“Well, yes, I have, but never to a girl. I give my fathers backrubs and massages all the time, because they always forget to stretch before partaking in physical activity. I’m just afraid that I may use too much force, and hurt you in the process. My father claims that my massages are better than those of our paid massage therapist.”
“Well, you’re doing nothing for me now! I need you to go harder... I’m sure that with all your amazing skills and experience, you’ll be able to tell me where it hurts.” She didn’t hear any response from Rachel. Instead, she felt Rachel’s thumbs slowly kneading at the point where her shoulders and neck met. Damn, she was good at this... Quinn let out a hum of contentment, and relaxed her posture completely, feeling the relaxing effects of Rachel’s massage. Rachel’s fingers hit just the right spot with just the right amount of pressure, and she completely melted.
A couple minutes into the massage, Rachel reached down and pushed Quinn’s lower back forward. “Don’t slouch,” she said, simply continuing her slow massage. Quinn’s shoulders felt like they were on fire, in a good way, and she purred under her breath, only to have her breath catch in her throat and shoulders tense when Rachel found a particularly painful spot. “My God, you have the most horrendous knots!” Quinn nodded... cheerleading could do that to a person. “You’re also incredibly tight.” Rachel’s hand brushed Quinn’s hair off her neck, and started working her neck, squeezing both sides with just the right amount of pressure. “You should relax more. Also, the whole wet hair thing? It has to stop, because that’ll cause more knots to start forming in your shoulders.” There was a pause, during which Quinn’s eyes fluttered shut again in contentment. “Is this good?”
“Mmmmmmm... very, Berry.” Rachel let out a small giggle and eyeroll at Quinn’s accidental (albeit lame) rhyme, but didn’t stop her ministrations. “In fact, it’s marvelous.” Rachel went back to Quinn’s shoulders, working slowly out from the neck towards her upper arms. Quinn let out a quiet moan, “My God, you’re good at this. I think I might have to give you rides more often...”
Rachel chuckled at this as she started softly pounding up and down Quinn’s back. “That would be wonderful, I think... It’d save my father some time, and perhaps, if it becomes a regular thing, we can do our homework together?”
“Sounds like a plan... Oh my God, I sound like a motorboat!” Quinn started singing a random note, as Rachel continued to pound on Quinn’s back.
Rachel laughed, shaking her head. She’d never seen the head cheerleader acting so childish before. “Maybe next time, we’ll work on those knots, but for today, I just want you to relax, maybe just work out the surface soreness, before it settles and hardens the babies you have in your back. They’re incredibly large knots, you know, and they’re pretty deep, too.”
Quinn didn’t doubt it, since Rachel definitely seemed to know what she was talking about. The diva had switched back to kneading with her thumbs, but was working her way down her sides to her lower back. She let out a groan when Rachel found a particular spot by her hips. “I didn’t even know I was sore there,” she said softly.
“I presume it’s leftover from your pregnancy... Actually, I presume most of your knots are leftover from your pregnancy. The change in posture and the extra weight most likely wreaked havoc on your muscles... and did you have an epidural?” Quinn nodded. “Well, I read somewhere that the place where you get an epidural will, for some reason, constantly be sore.” Rachel slowed her hands, then patted Quinn on the shoulders. “That should do for now! How do you feel?”
“Amazing. You have, like, magic fingers or something.” Quinn swiveled in her chair to see Rachel blushing at the compliment. She muttered a thank you. “No, seriously, if you decide Broadway’s not for you, I’ll pay you to give me daily massages!” Rachel smirked, and moved to let Quinn out of her chair.
“Well, I guess I should be going home now...” Quinn cocked an eyebrow, then remembered that she’d only gotten Rachel to give her a massage because she’d promised a ride home.
“Right...” They both went downstairs, and she grabbed her keys before blurting, “Do you want to stay for supper?” It surprised the both of them, and Quinn felt a slight blush on her cheeks. The verbal logorrhea probably had something to do with the relaxed and content state Rachel had left her in. Rachel was looking at her like she’d grown a third head (skipping the second one entirely), and Quinn fought the urge to laugh.
“You hate me...” Rachel said, warily.
Quinn nodded, “I do. Just... not as much anymore, after that massage. And, well...” She gestured at the house. “I’m alone in this freakishly... freakish place until my mom gets home at whenever she gets in. I have to call in take-out, but, well, it’d be nice to have some company. And that was a damn good massage, so I feel like just giving you a ride home wouldn’t suffice.” Rachel obviously didn’t trust her, eyebrow raised in doubt.
Quinn sighed. “Look, I’ll have you home in time for your nightly MySpace video, okay?”
Rachel brightened slightly at the mention of routine, and fished out her phone. “I just have to text both my fathers to notify them of my whereabouts.” Her fingers flew over her bedazzled phone’s numpad.
Quinn nodded. “Anything specific you’d like?” she asked, placing her keys back on the designated key hook.
“There’s this Thai place...”
\o/
A/N: I love to give massages to people (I just hate hearing people complain about back pain), but I’ve never really received a satisfactory massage. Hopefully, I conveyed the awesomeness of Rachel’s magic fingers to y’all. Also, in this universe, Rachel, like me, doesn’t like to talk too much when giving massages, instead focusing on giving pleasure to the person being massaged. Pressure and stuff is important, and too much or too little can lead to discomfort. So, lots of concentration is involved with a good massage.
Apparently I give good massages. I’m pretty sure some people I know are only my friends because I give damn good ones... I’ve been told that I must teach boyfriends, significant others, and other people how to give good ones, and some of Quinn’s responses are actual responses I’ve had from friends and classmates (and teachers). Especially the “I’ll pay you if your life doesn’t turn out as planned” bit.
I personally believe that a massage is a very sensual and beautiful thing that someone can give to another person... hopefully a kind of sensuality permeated in this piece. I tried, anyway.
A/N2: In case you can’t tell, the heating up of the massages will be slow. Almost parabolic. Slow to begin with, then speeding up quickly near the end. I refuse to rush into things, just because it’s a kink meme prompt.
Next Chapter: Quinn is massaged by Rachel... Rachel starts working on knots. Oh, and things start heating up.