Fic: Autumn Nights - The seventh night - Part 2
Title: The Seventh Night-In Which Quinn Fabray Resists The Urge-To Get Into Rachel Berry's Pants-And The Irony Of Rachel Wearing Skirts (And Other Forms Of Torture)
A/N: Haaave you read Part 1?
I end up just pacing in front of a set of lockers with my hands on my hips, trying very hard to calm down and stop my chest from heaving.
It feels like all my blood got sucked up into my head.
My face is heating up. My temples are literally throbbing. My hands are numb. And the tips of my fingers are tingling so much I have to keep curling my hands into fists.
God, I seriously wanted to punch Finn in the face… but Rachel wouldn’t like that… and if I stayed in the choir room, I would’ve…
Because Finn definitely would’ve said something else to-what the f-why the hell would he follow me outside?! And with Rachel on his heels?!
“Don’t you dare come near me!”
“Whoa, still scary Quinn-okay, okay, look, I came here to apologize,” he says. “And I’m sorry, Quinn. I really am.”
Okay, I have to admit I’m slightly stunned by his sincerity. Rachel looks just as surprised.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think about how you felt,” he continues. “It just seemed… impossible, you know? I didn’t know it would… hurt you that much and I’m really sorry about that.”
Is this real life?
Finn is actually more perceptive than I thought?
I really don’t know what to say…
So I just… nod.
“So it’s true?” he asks. “You still have feelings for me?”
What?! “Are you a moron?”
“Quinn,” Rachel rushes to step between him and me.
Then Santana shows up, “Oh, jeez, what did Jiggling Man-boobs do this time?”
“Stop calling me that,” he cries out. “I didn’t do anything! You’re the one who said Quinn was jealous.”
“I didn’t say Quinn was jealous, you gherkin,” she retorts. “Seriously, was that all your pea brain could come up with?”
Rachel brings my attention back to her by holding my hands and looking me in the eye.
“Let me talk to him,” she says.
“You sure?”
She nods, “I want to tell him.”
“Tell me what?”
“Why can’t we just tell him together?” I ask.
She sighs, “Baby, we’ve talked about this…”
“Wait. Did you just call her baby?”
I sigh, “Yes, we have…”
“Did you just call her baby?!”
“Raise your voice again, Finnessa, and I’m gonna go Lima Heights on your-”
“Thank you, Santana,” Rachel cuts in, “but can you please just escort Quinn back to the choir room?”
“And what-leave you here with the Jelly Green Giant-are you serious?!”
Rachel nods.
“Fine,” Santana grumbles. “Do you have your phone with you?”
“No. Why?”
She hands Rachel her phone, “Speed dial 2 if he so much as lifts a finger.”
“Uh, thank you,” Rachel says. “Who-who’s on speed dial 2?”
Santana makes a face that says, ‘Really, Berry?’
“Ohh…” Rachel turns to me, “Wait for me in the choir room?”
I nod. We give each other’s hands a squeeze.
Then I take a deep breath and turn to Finn, “For what it’s worth, I never meant to hurt you.”
He scowls and looks away.
“Ugh, just ignore him,” Santana says. “C’mon, Creampuff, let’s go.”
She narrows her eyes at Finn one more time before we leave.
And a very unusual silence greets us when we get back to the choir room. It has probably something to do with Mr. Schue standing in the middle of it with one hand on his hip.
“You okay, Quinn?” he asks.
“I will be, but… can I talk to you for a second, Mr. Schue?”
“Sure.”
Everyone leans forward a little in their seats.
“In private…?”
And I hear different noises of frustration.
Mr. Schue just nods and leads the way to his office.
When we get inside, he closes the door and I confirm right away that there is something going on.
“But I can’t tell you, Mr. Schue.”
I tell him that it would be very awkward… that it’s not something I want to tell a teacher… that it’s typical teenage stuff but no one is in trouble or pregnant… that sooner or later he’ll find out because we’re in Glee and we just can’t seem to keep our secrets from each other for very long.
I ask him nicely if he can give me time with the club without him. He says that he understands, that he’ll just stay in his office in case he’s needed with the music turned up, that he won’t be able to see anything from where he’s sitting anyway, that I should close the door when I leave.
“Thanks Mr. Schue, you really are a good teacher, even if people think you’re inappropriate most of the time.”
He tries to smile but ends up with a grimace. I head for the door and open it.
“Oh. Mr. Schue?”
“Yes Quinn?”
“What radio station do you listen to?”
He answers. I mumble my thanks, then step outside and close the door.
“Well?” Kurt asks. “Aren’t you gonna tell us?”
“Let’s wait for Rachel.”
His eyes narrow for a moment before they widen as he turns to Mercedes, who’s holding back her snort. He’s probably looking for some confirmation but she just shakes her head and smirks.
Mike and Tina look confused. And so is Artie. Bieber seems curious. And I… am growing more impatient by the second.
I try sitting down but I keep bouncing my legs up and down so much that Santana teases me and says, “You’re not getting any, are you?”
I roll my eyes.
Brittany looks sorry for me and pats my thigh.
I stand immediately and pace across the room instead.
But I haven’t been doing it long when I hear a loud bang coming from the hallway.
I sprint to get to Rachel and find her standing alone by the lockers with her back to me and staring out at Finn, who’s stomping away angrily and rounding the corner.
“Baby, you okay? What did he do?”
“I’m fine,” she says. “It actually went better than I expected.”
“It did?” My eyes get drawn back to the corner where Finn disappeared.
“Hey…” She rests her hand gently on my arm, “Let’s not worry about him anymore.”
I sigh, “Okay…”
She smiles.
“Everyone’s still waiting in the choir room,” I tell her.
She nods, then moves beside me, and waits for me to turn around.
We walk back to the choir room in silence, with our arms brushing against each other, our faces forward, and our eyes trained on each other.
I really want to hold her hand. But it would probably surprise her if I do that right now while we’re walking along a corridor that still isn’t empty, so I won’t.
I tell her I’m gonna close the other door to the choir room when we reach the first one and she nods before she enters.
By the time I walk through the second one, the first door has been closed and Rachel is slowly making her way towards the center of the room and looking at me, unmindful of the curious stares and a handful of smirks thrown her way.
I can’t keep my eyes off her either when I close the door and meet her in the middle.
She looks so self-assured when she offers her hand that I can’t help but feel proud as I take it.
We both look down at our hands at the same time and smile softly at each other before turning to face an audience that’s been abnormally quiet but is likely to crack any moment.
It crosses my mind to make them suffer a little bit longer but…
“Rachel and I have been together since summer.”
“What?!”
“You and Rachel?!”
“Together?”
“Since summer?!”
“I don’t get it.”
“Rachel is my girlfriend. And I am hers.”
“Girlfriend as in girl friend-like ‘Wassup girlfriend!’”
“No, not girlfriend as in friend who’s female, Artie,” Rachel answers, “but girlfriend as in steady girlfriend or-or sweetheart… or beloved, paramour, significant other-”
“That’s the best kind of otter,” Brittany says.
I turn to Rach.
“What?”
“Paramour, huh?”
“Oh, don’t you mock me, Quinn Fabray.”
I grin and poke her thigh with my finger. She immediately moves away and folds her arms across her chest with a, “Hmph.”
“Oh, my God,” Tina breathes out, “I can’t believe this.”
“Honey, I’ve known about this for hours,” Mercedes tells her, “and I still can’t believe it.”
“Well, I still can’t believe my gaydar sucks,” Kurt grumbles while shaking his head.
“Dude, that’s what I was trying to tell you earlier.”
“Gee, thanks Puck. That would’ve been very helpful.”
“Seriously, Quinn, what are you playing at?” Tina asks.
“Weren’t you the one who thought I could either be with Brittany or Mercedes?”
“Yes, but-”
“How do we know you’re not just, like, out to hurt Rachel again?”
“I thank you for your concern, but that is just absurd, Mike Chang! Quinn is not out to hurt me.”
“If you really think about it though, Changster’s got a point.”
“Shut up, S.”
“You gotta admit, Quinn,” Mercedes says, “it is hard to believe. And we need more than just a hand hold to be convinced.”
“Yeah, pics or it didn’t happen.”
“B!”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Rachel suddenly grabs me by the neck and-
Ohh, hiii babyyy… I’ve missed you… Mmm, I’ve missed you… I’ve missed you so much… you and your lips… God, that feels so good… Mmm… Need… flat… surface… now… No, no, don’t pull away yet! Want… more… kiss-
Sigh…
Her eyes are still closed when I open mine. But why the hell is she biting her lower lip? I could’ve just done that for her!
“Oh, my God…”
“That didn’t just happen.”
“I’m scarred for life.”
“Meh… That wasn’t very convincing. Do it again.”
“Shut it, Puckerman!”
“God, Q, will you stop looking at Berry like that?!”
No. I want to take her against the piano.
“Quinn!”
“Yes baby?”
“I’m afraid even taking me against the piano, as you so crudely put it, isn’t-”
“I said it out loud?”
“Yes, you did.”
Oh, God. “Y-you were saying?”
“I-I was-” she stops abruptly then whispers, “Did you really want to take me against the piano?”
“Baby, don’t remind me.”
“Right,” she clears her throat. “I-I was gonna say, as frustrating as it is, I think there’s nothing more we can do at this point to persuade the rest of our fellow Glee-clubbers that what we have is real.”
“Okay, show’s over losers!” Santana shouts. “Let’s get out of here before-”
“No. Wait.”
All eyes are on me in an instant.
I take a quick look at Rachel and hold her hand again before addressing the room.
“I honestly don’t care if you believe us or not. And I definitely don’t need to prove anything to you. But Rachel and I decided to tell you about us because-well… haven’t we said time and time again that Glee is a place where we can just be ourselves? We want that… especially when we don’t want to be so open about it to everyone else. We realized we shouldn’t have to hide our relationship from you. And you may not believe in it right now but I’m asking you to respect it.”
I feel Rachel staring at me like I always do but I keep my eyes on the others, who don’t seem to know what to say.
Brittany glances miserably at Santana and all Santana does in response is to look more wretched and bow her head out of something like guilt.
And virtually the same expression is reflected back at me as I look at one face after another, except for Kurt’s, which seems more thoughtful than the rest.
Then I notice a kind smile at the end of the line.
“You can count on me, Quinn.”
I smile back.
“Thanks Sam.”
But his smile soon disappears and before I can wonder why, Rachel’s arms are wrapped around my waist and she’s looking fiercely at Sam and shouting, “Mine!”
“I was-I wasn’t…” He raises both hands in surrender.
Brittany snorts, which sends Mercedes snorting, and Santana’s shoulders start shaking as she covers her mouth with her hand.
I bite my upper lip to stop myself from giggling and wrap my arms around Rachel.
“Baby, he was just being nice.”
“I know. I just wanted to remind him.”
I’m grinning widely as I shake my head.
Tina mumbles, “Wow. It must be love.”
“-or a sign of the impending apocalypse,” Kurt says.
And Brittany and Mercedes snort again.
“Whatever it is,” Kurt continues before Rachel can protest, “I think we should all follow Sam’s lead and support Quinn and Rachel.”
I give him a small nod and a smile when he catches my eye.
“I just really hope they keep the drama to a minimum,” he mutters to himself.
“I hate to break this to you, Kurt, but you’re gonna be spending a lot of time with Finn,” Mercedes points out.
“Oh, shoot.” He suddenly realizes what it means and turns to Rachel, “Did you tell him?”
She nods. He gasps.
“Well, screw him if he wants to take over the title of Drama Queen from any of us,” he says.
And Rachel laughs and hides her face behind my shoulder. I automatically kiss the side of her head.
“Okay, seriously,” Santana stands, “let’s leave now before they start making out again or we’ll be puking rainbows from here ‘til next, next Tuesday.”
The others don’t wait around to be told twice and immediately set out for the door, giving Rachel and me a hesitant nod or a smile when they pass by.
Santana’s the last one to leave, apart from us, and she’s staring sadly at Brittany, who’s pushing Artie’s wheelchair out the door.
When she reaches us, Rachel hands her back her phone and tells her, “Don’t worry. You’ll get her back, Santana.”
And Santana slowly turns to us with a huge frown on her face.
“I really hate hangin’ out with both of you,” she complains. “You’re giving me fucking feelings.”
I smirk. Rachel pats her on the shoulder.
“There, there, Santana. First, eye contact, then you can move on to fucking feelings.”
I snort. Santana rolls her eyes then stalks off in a huff. Rachel is beaming.
I grab her hand.
And she looks surprised at first, then smiles again and holds on tighter.
And we head for the door.
“So there you have it,” Rachel says.
And the Berry men look stunned.
Their gazes switch back and forth between Rachel and me and for a while, they just sit there, absolutely speechless.
Until, finally, David reaches out to hold Rachel’s hand on the table and asks, “Oh, honey, you came out to Glee club?”
“We did,” Rachel nods happily with a smile that just seems to make the kitchen so much brighter.
“Oh! Everyone except Mr. Schuester,” she amends.
The two men exchange astonished looks before their faces break out into huge grins, followed by a sudden flurry of movement, then shrieks of joy. And next thing I know, I’m on my feet, being engulfed by a huge bear hug from Michael.
“Oh, baby girls, we’re so happy for you!”
“-and proud! So proud!”
I take a peek at Rachel and she’s also being smothered with a hug, by David.
Eventually, the men break away, but only long enough to trade girls. And now I’m being hugged by David and Rachel is lost in Michael’s arms.
I thought they’d settle down once they released us but they end up hugging each other instead.
Rachel bursts into giggles.
Then she walks over to me, stops right in front, and tilts her head up with a soft smile.
I smile back and lean down to give her a peck… that turns into two… then three… and suddenly, her arms are wrapped around my shoulders, with mine around her back, and we’re kissing each other eagerly.
“Girls, please, no making out during dinner.”
“-or while we’re around to witness it.”
We quickly pull away from each other, looking sheepish. And everyone goes back to their seats.
“Well, that was something,” Michael says.
“-the coming out, not the making out,” David clarifies.
“We didn’t think it would happen so soon.”
“-or that it would happen at all.”
“Well, it was Quinn’s idea,” Rachel says. “And I was really just waiting for her to bring it up.”
“And how does it feel, Quinn?” Michael asks.
“Very liberating, actually,” I grin. “I knew it would be an all-around good thing to tell them. We may not look it most of the time, with the squabbling and the drama, but I think all the Glee kids really care about each other and they’ll try to protect us one way or another…”
This time, David reaches out across the table for my hand, beaming, and says, “Good for you, Quinn.”
“Thanks…”
“Now, it’s your turn, Daddy,” Rachel tells him. “What was so interesting about your day?”
“Oh! Well…” he glances anxiously at Michael, “well, uhm…” then, at me, before turning back to Rachel and blurting out-
“We had lunch with Judy.”
“Garland?”
“It was lunch, honey, not a séance.”
“You had lunch with my mom?”
“Yes, we did.”
“Oh, my God…”
“How did that happen?”
“Well, I received a call from the ACLU just before lunch telling me that there was a woman there looking for us and she’s interested to join or some-”
“What?!”
“But she’s not a lawyer or anything. Why would she join?”
“She wanted to… donate money…”
“Does she even know all the things the ACLU does, like everything?”
Michael sighs, “I don’t think she does, hon. And we didn’t tell her.”
“So then what happened?” I really want to know.
“Your mom mentioned our names and hinted at wanting to meet us. That’s why I got the call. And I went there as soon as I could-”
“Oh, God, please tell me she didn’t make a fool of herself.”
“Have a little more faith in your mom, Quinn,” Michael says. “As far as we know, she was very nice to everyone there.”
“And when you met?”
“Oh, she’s wonderful,” David smiles, “but she really had no idea what she was getting herself into so I quickly dissuaded her from joining.”
“Thank you,” I breathe a sigh of relief.
“You’re welcome.”
“What about lunch?” Rachel asks.
“She confessed she wanted to meet us ever since Quinn started hanging out here a lot,” he says before turning to me. “I’m glad you didn’t lie to her, by the way.”
Yeah, me too…
“And then?”
“She insisted on treating me for lunch and requested for Michael to join us, if he could.”
“And I did.”
“Did you talk about Quinn and me?”
“Naturally.”
I hold my breath.
“And?”
Then I gulp.
“Well, we all agreed that you’re good for each other,” Michael says.
“Oh, yes,” David nods. “She said Quinn seems happier now, with you in her life, and we told her Quinn seems to know how to keep you under control.”
“You did not! That isn’t funny, Daddy.”
David chuckles. I try to hold back my smirk.
“But it’s true,” he says. “You’re a lot less…”
“Restive?”
“Outrageous?”
“Dramatic?”
“Intense?”
“Would you like us to go on?”
“How much time do we have?” We chuckle.
“That’s just great,” Rachel crosses her arms over her chest and rolls her eyes, “just super… All the people I love are ganging up on me.”
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing-W-was that all you talked about with Judy?”
“She basically just thanked us for taking care of Quinn, hon.”
“-and welcoming her into our home in spite of how she treated you before.”
“-which we didn’t know everything about, apparently.”
Uh-oh…
“I… I didn’t feel the need to disclose such… information… back then, but I can assure you that Quinn is genuinely apologetic for her past behavior towards me.”
I nod.
I nod a lot.
“We know, hon. We’ve seen Quinn apologizing countless times.”
Did he just-?
“Don’t worry, Quinn, we can’t see you as anything other than the girl who loves our daughter now.”
Okay… Whew.
Rachel beams.
“But there’s something you’re not telling us, isn’t there?” she asks. “I can sense it.”
The men exchange another quick look.
“Well? What is it?”
“We… convinced Judy…”
“To do what?”
“She’s… joining PFLAG.”
“She’s-what?”
Okay, I don’t know how I feel about this.
“We know you’re worried about your mom, Quinn,” Michaels says, “but we truly believe this is a good thing.”
“It really is,” David nods again. “On a very basic level, it would fill her need to expand her social circle. But at the same time, she would learn a lot from other parents there, and their children, and their friends about… concerns… that she would have to face later on, should you… decide… to tell her…”
“Do you plan to tell her at some point?” Michael asks.
And I can only sigh, “She already knows…”
“She does…?” David asks.
Rachel nods, “We believe that she does.”
“Ohh…”
“And how did you come to that conclusion?”
“She kept asking about vegans during dinner last night, but we’re pretty sure she was asking about lesbians.”
“She didn’t,” David mutters in disbelief.
“She did,” Rachel says. “It was incredibly awkward.”
“Oh, Judy…”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Michael says kindly.
“It was dreadful,” I tell him. “I just sat there, completely dumbstruck, and Rachel couldn’t stop naming celebrity vegans who aren’t lesbians.”
David snorts.
And Rachel slaps him on the arm.
But Michael just ignores them.
“Well, It could’ve been much worse,” he says.
I sigh again, “I guess you’re right…”
“Are you going to do anything about it?”
“I really don’t know… I’m… kinda hoping she’ll ask.”
“What if she’s too scared to ask?”
“I’m thinking if she’s too scared to ask about it, then she’s too scared to accept it.”
“It’s not always like that, Quinn. Perhaps she’s afraid of other things.”
“Like what?”
“Letting you down again? She wants to mend her relationship with you and is much too scared to make a wrong move.”
I don’t know what to think of it.
“As I said earlier, please just try to have a little more faith in your mom, okay?”
I nod because I don’t know what else to say and I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.
Rachel clears her throat, “Speaking of Judy… she’ll be home late tonight. Can Quinn sleep over?”
And just like that, I’m smiling again-
“Great segue, hon.”
-and bowing my head to hide it.
“I know, right?!”
“Yes, Quinn can sleep over.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that was easy…”
I can’t stop smiling now.
“Would you like us to be harder on you?”
“Oh-Nooo,” she dramatically shakes her head then stops and smiles. “So can we go up to my room now?”
“You think you’ve won our bet?”
“Why, yes, of course, Daddy! Very few things can trump coming out to your friends.”
“And why are you in such a hurry to go up?”
“Because Quinn and I have a quiz in History tomorrow so we have to study.”
“Is that what you kids call it these days?”
“If you are insinuating that Quinn and I will just be making out instead of studying, then you’re wrong-”
Oh, no.
“-we will be making out after.”
I bang my forehead on the table.
The two men bust out laughing.
“We thought you’d be used to her by now, Quinn.”
I shake my head.
“Baby, don’t be so dramatic,” Rachel chides. “I’m dramatic enough for both of us.”
I sit up straight.
“Baby, you’re dramatic enough to star in a novela on Telemundo and play all the roles by yourself.”
She doesn’t look offended at all.
“Why, yes, now that you’ve mentioned it, I am that good!”
You can tell that she really believes the accuracy of her statement. I look pointedly at the two men.
“Don’t look at us, dear,” David says. “She got that from her mother.”
We all freeze.
And I stop breathing for a moment.
“Daddy…”
“Oh, God,” he covers his mouth with his hand, “I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sorry, Quinn.”
Michael reprimands his husband with a look.
“It’s… okay… It’s fine…” I tell them. “It’s not like we shouldn’t… talk about… that stuff…”
“Well, t-too bad we’ve reached our quota for serious conversations this month,” Rachel says, “maybe next month.”
She taps my thigh twice with finality then quickly turns to her dads.
“We really should go up to my room now.”
“Oh! Yes.”
“Good idea.”
She gets to her feet at once, goes over to David, and gives him a kiss, “Good night, Daddy.”
“Good night…”
Then she does the same for Michael, “Good night, Dad.”
“Night, honey.”
I get up from my chair, walk around the table, and give David a hug, “Thanks for dinner…”
“Anytime, dear.”
“…and for letting me stay,” I hug Michael.
“You can stay as long and as often as you like.”
With a round of smiles, we leave the two men in the kitchen and go to the living room to get our things.
And neither one of us says anything as she picks up her stuff and I sling my bag over my shoulder.
And instead of holding my hand as we walk towards the stairs, she wraps an arm around my waist and rests her head on my other shoulder. I have a feeling if her other hand were free, she’d be hugging me from the side while we’re walking.
I put my arm around her shoulder and steal a glance.
She seems lost in thought. And I desperately want to know what she’s thinking. But I stay silent and drop my arm behind her back a little so I can clutch at her arm and hold her tighter against me.
It’s all I can think of doing at the moment as we go up the stairs.
And I can only hope that it’s enough to comfort her… to calm her fears… to remind her that I’m here for her, to wipe away her heartache…
She gently opens the door to her bedroom and goes inside.
And it suddenly occurs to me as I lock the door that I haven’t been in this room for a couple of days now… that when I did, it was only long enough to watch her sing before we had to go down to the kitchen for dinner… that this time… I’d be spending the night.
My bag falls to the floor with a thud.
And without any more thought, I let my feet carry me across the room and make a beeline for Rachel, who’s walking towards her closet.
“Do you need a hanger for your extra uniform?” she asks as she opens a door to it.
And I answer by creeping up behind her and slowly wrapping my arms around her waist, caressing her stomach inch by inch and pressing my body against her back.
“Quinn…”
I plant a kiss at the back of her head and I just know that she’s closing her eyes as she takes a deep breath. I’m also closing mine as I inhale her scent that’s neither shampoo nor perfume-just… distinctively Rachel.
She brings her hands up to cover mine, weaves our fingers together, and pulls me even closer.
Then her head moves in time with mine, leaning back on my left shoulder, as my head tilts to the right. And my nose follows her scent behind her ear… down to the corner of her jaw… where my lips part… and start ghosting across her cheek…
She turns her head to the side…
“Baby…”
We’re both breathing heavily.
“One kiss…”
And she gives in… slowly… deliberately… tilting her head up… until her lips brush against mine, once… twice… three times…
And we kiss…
…gently…
…languidly…
…as if we have all the time in the world…
She lifts her hand up to cup my cheek…
…and very gradually… turns her body around to face mine…
…and all the while… our kiss goes on… unhurried… and unbroken…
…and my hold around her never slackens…
I kiss her deeper as she wraps both arms around my neck, squeezing me harder as if she’s suddenly realizing that she missed this, too: kissing me.
And every stroke, every curl, every wave of her tongue against mine makes my body melt further… and further… and further into her… pushing her… until I have her pinned against the other door to her closet.
Then she sucks on my tongue… and my knees grow even weaker and my breathing… labored.
I break free from the kiss to briefly catch my breath then move my lips back to her jaw…
“Baby…”
I open my eyes…
…and only then I remember what we’re wearing.
Damn. Turtlenecks…
“Quinn…” she sighs again, sounding more urgent this time as I raise my right hand from the small of her back to her nape.
And my fingers curl around her collar, pulling it down, exposing one side of her neck.
“Baby, we should-” she gasps.
I hungrily get to every bit of bare skin I could, biting and lapping and marking her neck anew.
“Baby…” she moans, “we can’t-not tonight…” and that quickly sobers me up.
Oh, God. “I wasn’t-I’m not…”
I watch her open her eyes… and they’re darker than I’ve ever seen.
“I-I thought-”
“No… I wasn’t-I wasn’t thinking about that…”
“It-it felt like you were…”
Maybe I was…
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I’m not-I’m not gonna push you… into doing it.”
It’s almost imperceptible but I know she’s biting the inside of her lower lip as she nods. And I’m fighting the urge to kiss her again.
“I-I think we should-”
“Yeah…”
“I’ll just get-”
“Thanks…”
She turns around, opens the other door to her closet, and rummages inside. I hold on to it for support.
And soon, she hands me one of her dads’ old t-shirts that says Ohio State on the front and a pair of shorts. But then she turns around again to face me and whatever it is she wants to say seems lodged in her throat and makes her face turn a deep shade of red.
“What… what color thong would you like?”
O gord, temporal lobe plurning down to slithy runnel!
“Just-whatever’s the… biggest… and most elastic… ”
“But… I bought five stretchy ones… and-and the site recommended that I order a size larger.”
“Oh. Then, uhm… maybe you could give me the one you like the least.” There. I think that’ll do it.
But she’s mulling things over.
God, please, please end this conversation now. I can’t stand it.
“I… kind of like… all of them…”
Jesus! This is torture.
“Okay, well… what are their… colors?”
“Well, there’s pink… and hot pink… and purple… and orange and… black.”
Breathe, Fabray.
“Not the purple.”
“Oh, good, I really like the purple. It has hearts on it.”
Oh, Rachel. “I’m sure you really like the pink ones, too.”
“Yes…”
“So that just leaves-”
“-orange… or black.”
And I definitely want to see her in-
“Orange. I’ll… take the orange.”
There’s a distant look in her eyes as she nods again with her mouth hanging open.
But she doesn’t move.
She continues to gape at me the way she would if she ever saw Barbra Streisand walking away just around the corner and she couldn’t do anything about it.
“Baby…?” I whisper.
And she snaps out of her reverie, gasping as she blinks, and in a split second, she’s throwing herself at me, cleaving to my body and kissing me furiously.
Oh. God. Yes.
I’m stumbling backwards from the impact and kissing her back with as much fervor… and tongue… and teeth.
And in no time, we’re tumbling down onto her bed with a thump.
If it hurt, I didn’t notice. And I don’t really care.
Rachel is writhing on top of me, assaulting my lips, and my hands roam freely all over her back.
Then she mimics what I did with her collar earlier and-
Oh, God. Right there…
I try hard to regain my senses as she lingers on my neck and continue to kiss her wherever I could-from her temple, to her cheek, to her ear… and she gasps as my tongue darts out to lick at the shell and it’s just the opening I need.
Steadily, I lift my head without relinquishing her ear and pretty soon, she’s rolling on her back, driven… by the rest of my body, and whimpering…
And my body takes it to mean more.
I want more.
And my lips move on instinct, sliding down from her ear to-
Hello, turtleneck. We meet again.
This time, I use both hands to pull it down, exposing as much skin as I can and kissing every inch of it while Rachel is squirming and panting underneath me.
And she’s getting more restless by the second.
Her hands don’t know where to go.
I feel them reaching for her forehead, her hair, my hands, my wrists, my neck, my shoulders, my arms, down to her sheets, back to her sides, crumpling the fabric of her shirt and pulling it up to untuck from her skirt while arching her back and-
Hnnggg-
She grabs me by the neck, dragging my head up to kiss me again. And suddenly, I find myself lying on my back with her on top and my hands touching the smoothness at her waist.
Immediately, the touching turns to stroking, and the stroking leads to clutching at the hem of her shirt, and-
Fuuck-
I don’t wanna stop.
And I keep pulling and pulling and pulling her shirt up until she breaks off our kiss and lets me pull it over her head. And when I do, we’re already sitting and kissing again.
And she keeps yanking and yanking at my uniform without success until she gasps and suddenly stops kissing me and tries to break free. But I stubbornly chase after her lips even as I let her go and try to open the zippers of my uniform, which she must’ve forgotten about earlier. But it’s a little too late. And she’s pulling away.
And I feel awful as I open my eyes and watch her staggering backwards and hitting the door to her closet, grabbing the first item of clothing that she sees and covering herself with it.
And she stands there looking absolutely conflicted… and breathless… and breathtaking…
A/N: Haaave you read Part 1?
I end up just pacing in front of a set of lockers with my hands on my hips, trying very hard to calm down and stop my chest from heaving.
It feels like all my blood got sucked up into my head.
My face is heating up. My temples are literally throbbing. My hands are numb. And the tips of my fingers are tingling so much I have to keep curling my hands into fists.
God, I seriously wanted to punch Finn in the face… but Rachel wouldn’t like that… and if I stayed in the choir room, I would’ve…
Because Finn definitely would’ve said something else to-what the f-why the hell would he follow me outside?! And with Rachel on his heels?!
“Don’t you dare come near me!”
“Whoa, still scary Quinn-okay, okay, look, I came here to apologize,” he says. “And I’m sorry, Quinn. I really am.”
Okay, I have to admit I’m slightly stunned by his sincerity. Rachel looks just as surprised.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think about how you felt,” he continues. “It just seemed… impossible, you know? I didn’t know it would… hurt you that much and I’m really sorry about that.”
Is this real life?
Finn is actually more perceptive than I thought?
I really don’t know what to say…
So I just… nod.
“So it’s true?” he asks. “You still have feelings for me?”
What?! “Are you a moron?”
“Quinn,” Rachel rushes to step between him and me.
Then Santana shows up, “Oh, jeez, what did Jiggling Man-boobs do this time?”
“Stop calling me that,” he cries out. “I didn’t do anything! You’re the one who said Quinn was jealous.”
“I didn’t say Quinn was jealous, you gherkin,” she retorts. “Seriously, was that all your pea brain could come up with?”
Rachel brings my attention back to her by holding my hands and looking me in the eye.
“Let me talk to him,” she says.
“You sure?”
She nods, “I want to tell him.”
“Tell me what?”
“Why can’t we just tell him together?” I ask.
She sighs, “Baby, we’ve talked about this…”
“Wait. Did you just call her baby?”
I sigh, “Yes, we have…”
“Did you just call her baby?!”
“Raise your voice again, Finnessa, and I’m gonna go Lima Heights on your-”
“Thank you, Santana,” Rachel cuts in, “but can you please just escort Quinn back to the choir room?”
“And what-leave you here with the Jelly Green Giant-are you serious?!”
Rachel nods.
“Fine,” Santana grumbles. “Do you have your phone with you?”
“No. Why?”
She hands Rachel her phone, “Speed dial 2 if he so much as lifts a finger.”
“Uh, thank you,” Rachel says. “Who-who’s on speed dial 2?”
Santana makes a face that says, ‘Really, Berry?’
“Ohh…” Rachel turns to me, “Wait for me in the choir room?”
I nod. We give each other’s hands a squeeze.
Then I take a deep breath and turn to Finn, “For what it’s worth, I never meant to hurt you.”
He scowls and looks away.
“Ugh, just ignore him,” Santana says. “C’mon, Creampuff, let’s go.”
She narrows her eyes at Finn one more time before we leave.
And a very unusual silence greets us when we get back to the choir room. It has probably something to do with Mr. Schue standing in the middle of it with one hand on his hip.
“You okay, Quinn?” he asks.
“I will be, but… can I talk to you for a second, Mr. Schue?”
“Sure.”
Everyone leans forward a little in their seats.
“In private…?”
And I hear different noises of frustration.
Mr. Schue just nods and leads the way to his office.
When we get inside, he closes the door and I confirm right away that there is something going on.
“But I can’t tell you, Mr. Schue.”
I tell him that it would be very awkward… that it’s not something I want to tell a teacher… that it’s typical teenage stuff but no one is in trouble or pregnant… that sooner or later he’ll find out because we’re in Glee and we just can’t seem to keep our secrets from each other for very long.
I ask him nicely if he can give me time with the club without him. He says that he understands, that he’ll just stay in his office in case he’s needed with the music turned up, that he won’t be able to see anything from where he’s sitting anyway, that I should close the door when I leave.
“Thanks Mr. Schue, you really are a good teacher, even if people think you’re inappropriate most of the time.”
He tries to smile but ends up with a grimace. I head for the door and open it.
“Oh. Mr. Schue?”
“Yes Quinn?”
“What radio station do you listen to?”
He answers. I mumble my thanks, then step outside and close the door.
“Well?” Kurt asks. “Aren’t you gonna tell us?”
“Let’s wait for Rachel.”
His eyes narrow for a moment before they widen as he turns to Mercedes, who’s holding back her snort. He’s probably looking for some confirmation but she just shakes her head and smirks.
Mike and Tina look confused. And so is Artie. Bieber seems curious. And I… am growing more impatient by the second.
I try sitting down but I keep bouncing my legs up and down so much that Santana teases me and says, “You’re not getting any, are you?”
I roll my eyes.
Brittany looks sorry for me and pats my thigh.
I stand immediately and pace across the room instead.
But I haven’t been doing it long when I hear a loud bang coming from the hallway.
I sprint to get to Rachel and find her standing alone by the lockers with her back to me and staring out at Finn, who’s stomping away angrily and rounding the corner.
“Baby, you okay? What did he do?”
“I’m fine,” she says. “It actually went better than I expected.”
“It did?” My eyes get drawn back to the corner where Finn disappeared.
“Hey…” She rests her hand gently on my arm, “Let’s not worry about him anymore.”
I sigh, “Okay…”
She smiles.
“Everyone’s still waiting in the choir room,” I tell her.
She nods, then moves beside me, and waits for me to turn around.
We walk back to the choir room in silence, with our arms brushing against each other, our faces forward, and our eyes trained on each other.
I really want to hold her hand. But it would probably surprise her if I do that right now while we’re walking along a corridor that still isn’t empty, so I won’t.
I tell her I’m gonna close the other door to the choir room when we reach the first one and she nods before she enters.
By the time I walk through the second one, the first door has been closed and Rachel is slowly making her way towards the center of the room and looking at me, unmindful of the curious stares and a handful of smirks thrown her way.
I can’t keep my eyes off her either when I close the door and meet her in the middle.
She looks so self-assured when she offers her hand that I can’t help but feel proud as I take it.
We both look down at our hands at the same time and smile softly at each other before turning to face an audience that’s been abnormally quiet but is likely to crack any moment.
It crosses my mind to make them suffer a little bit longer but…
“Rachel and I have been together since summer.”
“What?!”
“You and Rachel?!”
“Together?”
“Since summer?!”
“I don’t get it.”
“Rachel is my girlfriend. And I am hers.”
“Girlfriend as in girl friend-like ‘Wassup girlfriend!’”
“No, not girlfriend as in friend who’s female, Artie,” Rachel answers, “but girlfriend as in steady girlfriend or-or sweetheart… or beloved, paramour, significant other-”
“That’s the best kind of otter,” Brittany says.
I turn to Rach.
“What?”
“Paramour, huh?”
“Oh, don’t you mock me, Quinn Fabray.”
I grin and poke her thigh with my finger. She immediately moves away and folds her arms across her chest with a, “Hmph.”
“Oh, my God,” Tina breathes out, “I can’t believe this.”
“Honey, I’ve known about this for hours,” Mercedes tells her, “and I still can’t believe it.”
“Well, I still can’t believe my gaydar sucks,” Kurt grumbles while shaking his head.
“Dude, that’s what I was trying to tell you earlier.”
“Gee, thanks Puck. That would’ve been very helpful.”
“Seriously, Quinn, what are you playing at?” Tina asks.
“Weren’t you the one who thought I could either be with Brittany or Mercedes?”
“Yes, but-”
“How do we know you’re not just, like, out to hurt Rachel again?”
“I thank you for your concern, but that is just absurd, Mike Chang! Quinn is not out to hurt me.”
“If you really think about it though, Changster’s got a point.”
“Shut up, S.”
“You gotta admit, Quinn,” Mercedes says, “it is hard to believe. And we need more than just a hand hold to be convinced.”
“Yeah, pics or it didn’t happen.”
“B!”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Rachel suddenly grabs me by the neck and-
Ohh, hiii babyyy… I’ve missed you… Mmm, I’ve missed you… I’ve missed you so much… you and your lips… God, that feels so good… Mmm… Need… flat… surface… now… No, no, don’t pull away yet! Want… more… kiss-
Sigh…
Her eyes are still closed when I open mine. But why the hell is she biting her lower lip? I could’ve just done that for her!
“Oh, my God…”
“That didn’t just happen.”
“I’m scarred for life.”
“Meh… That wasn’t very convincing. Do it again.”
“Shut it, Puckerman!”
“God, Q, will you stop looking at Berry like that?!”
No. I want to take her against the piano.
“Quinn!”
“Yes baby?”
“I’m afraid even taking me against the piano, as you so crudely put it, isn’t-”
“I said it out loud?”
“Yes, you did.”
Oh, God. “Y-you were saying?”
“I-I was-” she stops abruptly then whispers, “Did you really want to take me against the piano?”
“Baby, don’t remind me.”
“Right,” she clears her throat. “I-I was gonna say, as frustrating as it is, I think there’s nothing more we can do at this point to persuade the rest of our fellow Glee-clubbers that what we have is real.”
“Okay, show’s over losers!” Santana shouts. “Let’s get out of here before-”
“No. Wait.”
All eyes are on me in an instant.
I take a quick look at Rachel and hold her hand again before addressing the room.
“I honestly don’t care if you believe us or not. And I definitely don’t need to prove anything to you. But Rachel and I decided to tell you about us because-well… haven’t we said time and time again that Glee is a place where we can just be ourselves? We want that… especially when we don’t want to be so open about it to everyone else. We realized we shouldn’t have to hide our relationship from you. And you may not believe in it right now but I’m asking you to respect it.”
I feel Rachel staring at me like I always do but I keep my eyes on the others, who don’t seem to know what to say.
Brittany glances miserably at Santana and all Santana does in response is to look more wretched and bow her head out of something like guilt.
And virtually the same expression is reflected back at me as I look at one face after another, except for Kurt’s, which seems more thoughtful than the rest.
Then I notice a kind smile at the end of the line.
“You can count on me, Quinn.”
I smile back.
“Thanks Sam.”
But his smile soon disappears and before I can wonder why, Rachel’s arms are wrapped around my waist and she’s looking fiercely at Sam and shouting, “Mine!”
“I was-I wasn’t…” He raises both hands in surrender.
Brittany snorts, which sends Mercedes snorting, and Santana’s shoulders start shaking as she covers her mouth with her hand.
I bite my upper lip to stop myself from giggling and wrap my arms around Rachel.
“Baby, he was just being nice.”
“I know. I just wanted to remind him.”
I’m grinning widely as I shake my head.
Tina mumbles, “Wow. It must be love.”
“-or a sign of the impending apocalypse,” Kurt says.
And Brittany and Mercedes snort again.
“Whatever it is,” Kurt continues before Rachel can protest, “I think we should all follow Sam’s lead and support Quinn and Rachel.”
I give him a small nod and a smile when he catches my eye.
“I just really hope they keep the drama to a minimum,” he mutters to himself.
“I hate to break this to you, Kurt, but you’re gonna be spending a lot of time with Finn,” Mercedes points out.
“Oh, shoot.” He suddenly realizes what it means and turns to Rachel, “Did you tell him?”
She nods. He gasps.
“Well, screw him if he wants to take over the title of Drama Queen from any of us,” he says.
And Rachel laughs and hides her face behind my shoulder. I automatically kiss the side of her head.
“Okay, seriously,” Santana stands, “let’s leave now before they start making out again or we’ll be puking rainbows from here ‘til next, next Tuesday.”
The others don’t wait around to be told twice and immediately set out for the door, giving Rachel and me a hesitant nod or a smile when they pass by.
Santana’s the last one to leave, apart from us, and she’s staring sadly at Brittany, who’s pushing Artie’s wheelchair out the door.
When she reaches us, Rachel hands her back her phone and tells her, “Don’t worry. You’ll get her back, Santana.”
And Santana slowly turns to us with a huge frown on her face.
“I really hate hangin’ out with both of you,” she complains. “You’re giving me fucking feelings.”
I smirk. Rachel pats her on the shoulder.
“There, there, Santana. First, eye contact, then you can move on to fucking feelings.”
I snort. Santana rolls her eyes then stalks off in a huff. Rachel is beaming.
I grab her hand.
And she looks surprised at first, then smiles again and holds on tighter.
And we head for the door.
“So there you have it,” Rachel says.
And the Berry men look stunned.
Their gazes switch back and forth between Rachel and me and for a while, they just sit there, absolutely speechless.
Until, finally, David reaches out to hold Rachel’s hand on the table and asks, “Oh, honey, you came out to Glee club?”
“We did,” Rachel nods happily with a smile that just seems to make the kitchen so much brighter.
“Oh! Everyone except Mr. Schuester,” she amends.
The two men exchange astonished looks before their faces break out into huge grins, followed by a sudden flurry of movement, then shrieks of joy. And next thing I know, I’m on my feet, being engulfed by a huge bear hug from Michael.
“Oh, baby girls, we’re so happy for you!”
“-and proud! So proud!”
I take a peek at Rachel and she’s also being smothered with a hug, by David.
Eventually, the men break away, but only long enough to trade girls. And now I’m being hugged by David and Rachel is lost in Michael’s arms.
I thought they’d settle down once they released us but they end up hugging each other instead.
Rachel bursts into giggles.
Then she walks over to me, stops right in front, and tilts her head up with a soft smile.
I smile back and lean down to give her a peck… that turns into two… then three… and suddenly, her arms are wrapped around my shoulders, with mine around her back, and we’re kissing each other eagerly.
“Girls, please, no making out during dinner.”
“-or while we’re around to witness it.”
We quickly pull away from each other, looking sheepish. And everyone goes back to their seats.
“Well, that was something,” Michael says.
“-the coming out, not the making out,” David clarifies.
“We didn’t think it would happen so soon.”
“-or that it would happen at all.”
“Well, it was Quinn’s idea,” Rachel says. “And I was really just waiting for her to bring it up.”
“And how does it feel, Quinn?” Michael asks.
“Very liberating, actually,” I grin. “I knew it would be an all-around good thing to tell them. We may not look it most of the time, with the squabbling and the drama, but I think all the Glee kids really care about each other and they’ll try to protect us one way or another…”
This time, David reaches out across the table for my hand, beaming, and says, “Good for you, Quinn.”
“Thanks…”
“Now, it’s your turn, Daddy,” Rachel tells him. “What was so interesting about your day?”
“Oh! Well…” he glances anxiously at Michael, “well, uhm…” then, at me, before turning back to Rachel and blurting out-
“We had lunch with Judy.”
“Garland?”
“It was lunch, honey, not a séance.”
“You had lunch with my mom?”
“Yes, we did.”
“Oh, my God…”
“How did that happen?”
“Well, I received a call from the ACLU just before lunch telling me that there was a woman there looking for us and she’s interested to join or some-”
“What?!”
“But she’s not a lawyer or anything. Why would she join?”
“She wanted to… donate money…”
“Does she even know all the things the ACLU does, like everything?”
Michael sighs, “I don’t think she does, hon. And we didn’t tell her.”
“So then what happened?” I really want to know.
“Your mom mentioned our names and hinted at wanting to meet us. That’s why I got the call. And I went there as soon as I could-”
“Oh, God, please tell me she didn’t make a fool of herself.”
“Have a little more faith in your mom, Quinn,” Michael says. “As far as we know, she was very nice to everyone there.”
“And when you met?”
“Oh, she’s wonderful,” David smiles, “but she really had no idea what she was getting herself into so I quickly dissuaded her from joining.”
“Thank you,” I breathe a sigh of relief.
“You’re welcome.”
“What about lunch?” Rachel asks.
“She confessed she wanted to meet us ever since Quinn started hanging out here a lot,” he says before turning to me. “I’m glad you didn’t lie to her, by the way.”
Yeah, me too…
“And then?”
“She insisted on treating me for lunch and requested for Michael to join us, if he could.”
“And I did.”
“Did you talk about Quinn and me?”
“Naturally.”
I hold my breath.
“And?”
Then I gulp.
“Well, we all agreed that you’re good for each other,” Michael says.
“Oh, yes,” David nods. “She said Quinn seems happier now, with you in her life, and we told her Quinn seems to know how to keep you under control.”
“You did not! That isn’t funny, Daddy.”
David chuckles. I try to hold back my smirk.
“But it’s true,” he says. “You’re a lot less…”
“Restive?”
“Outrageous?”
“Dramatic?”
“Intense?”
“Would you like us to go on?”
“How much time do we have?” We chuckle.
“That’s just great,” Rachel crosses her arms over her chest and rolls her eyes, “just super… All the people I love are ganging up on me.”
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing-W-was that all you talked about with Judy?”
“She basically just thanked us for taking care of Quinn, hon.”
“-and welcoming her into our home in spite of how she treated you before.”
“-which we didn’t know everything about, apparently.”
Uh-oh…
“I… I didn’t feel the need to disclose such… information… back then, but I can assure you that Quinn is genuinely apologetic for her past behavior towards me.”
I nod.
I nod a lot.
“We know, hon. We’ve seen Quinn apologizing countless times.”
Did he just-?
“Don’t worry, Quinn, we can’t see you as anything other than the girl who loves our daughter now.”
Okay… Whew.
Rachel beams.
“But there’s something you’re not telling us, isn’t there?” she asks. “I can sense it.”
The men exchange another quick look.
“Well? What is it?”
“We… convinced Judy…”
“To do what?”
“She’s… joining PFLAG.”
“She’s-what?”
Okay, I don’t know how I feel about this.
“We know you’re worried about your mom, Quinn,” Michaels says, “but we truly believe this is a good thing.”
“It really is,” David nods again. “On a very basic level, it would fill her need to expand her social circle. But at the same time, she would learn a lot from other parents there, and their children, and their friends about… concerns… that she would have to face later on, should you… decide… to tell her…”
“Do you plan to tell her at some point?” Michael asks.
And I can only sigh, “She already knows…”
“She does…?” David asks.
Rachel nods, “We believe that she does.”
“Ohh…”
“And how did you come to that conclusion?”
“She kept asking about vegans during dinner last night, but we’re pretty sure she was asking about lesbians.”
“She didn’t,” David mutters in disbelief.
“She did,” Rachel says. “It was incredibly awkward.”
“Oh, Judy…”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Michael says kindly.
“It was dreadful,” I tell him. “I just sat there, completely dumbstruck, and Rachel couldn’t stop naming celebrity vegans who aren’t lesbians.”
David snorts.
And Rachel slaps him on the arm.
But Michael just ignores them.
“Well, It could’ve been much worse,” he says.
I sigh again, “I guess you’re right…”
“Are you going to do anything about it?”
“I really don’t know… I’m… kinda hoping she’ll ask.”
“What if she’s too scared to ask?”
“I’m thinking if she’s too scared to ask about it, then she’s too scared to accept it.”
“It’s not always like that, Quinn. Perhaps she’s afraid of other things.”
“Like what?”
“Letting you down again? She wants to mend her relationship with you and is much too scared to make a wrong move.”
I don’t know what to think of it.
“As I said earlier, please just try to have a little more faith in your mom, okay?”
I nod because I don’t know what else to say and I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.
Rachel clears her throat, “Speaking of Judy… she’ll be home late tonight. Can Quinn sleep over?”
And just like that, I’m smiling again-
“Great segue, hon.”
-and bowing my head to hide it.
“I know, right?!”
“Yes, Quinn can sleep over.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that was easy…”
I can’t stop smiling now.
“Would you like us to be harder on you?”
“Oh-Nooo,” she dramatically shakes her head then stops and smiles. “So can we go up to my room now?”
“You think you’ve won our bet?”
“Why, yes, of course, Daddy! Very few things can trump coming out to your friends.”
“And why are you in such a hurry to go up?”
“Because Quinn and I have a quiz in History tomorrow so we have to study.”
“Is that what you kids call it these days?”
“If you are insinuating that Quinn and I will just be making out instead of studying, then you’re wrong-”
Oh, no.
“-we will be making out after.”
I bang my forehead on the table.
The two men bust out laughing.
“We thought you’d be used to her by now, Quinn.”
I shake my head.
“Baby, don’t be so dramatic,” Rachel chides. “I’m dramatic enough for both of us.”
I sit up straight.
“Baby, you’re dramatic enough to star in a novela on Telemundo and play all the roles by yourself.”
She doesn’t look offended at all.
“Why, yes, now that you’ve mentioned it, I am that good!”
You can tell that she really believes the accuracy of her statement. I look pointedly at the two men.
“Don’t look at us, dear,” David says. “She got that from her mother.”
We all freeze.
And I stop breathing for a moment.
“Daddy…”
“Oh, God,” he covers his mouth with his hand, “I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sorry, Quinn.”
Michael reprimands his husband with a look.
“It’s… okay… It’s fine…” I tell them. “It’s not like we shouldn’t… talk about… that stuff…”
“Well, t-too bad we’ve reached our quota for serious conversations this month,” Rachel says, “maybe next month.”
She taps my thigh twice with finality then quickly turns to her dads.
“We really should go up to my room now.”
“Oh! Yes.”
“Good idea.”
She gets to her feet at once, goes over to David, and gives him a kiss, “Good night, Daddy.”
“Good night…”
Then she does the same for Michael, “Good night, Dad.”
“Night, honey.”
I get up from my chair, walk around the table, and give David a hug, “Thanks for dinner…”
“Anytime, dear.”
“…and for letting me stay,” I hug Michael.
“You can stay as long and as often as you like.”
With a round of smiles, we leave the two men in the kitchen and go to the living room to get our things.
And neither one of us says anything as she picks up her stuff and I sling my bag over my shoulder.
And instead of holding my hand as we walk towards the stairs, she wraps an arm around my waist and rests her head on my other shoulder. I have a feeling if her other hand were free, she’d be hugging me from the side while we’re walking.
I put my arm around her shoulder and steal a glance.
She seems lost in thought. And I desperately want to know what she’s thinking. But I stay silent and drop my arm behind her back a little so I can clutch at her arm and hold her tighter against me.
It’s all I can think of doing at the moment as we go up the stairs.
And I can only hope that it’s enough to comfort her… to calm her fears… to remind her that I’m here for her, to wipe away her heartache…
She gently opens the door to her bedroom and goes inside.
And it suddenly occurs to me as I lock the door that I haven’t been in this room for a couple of days now… that when I did, it was only long enough to watch her sing before we had to go down to the kitchen for dinner… that this time… I’d be spending the night.
My bag falls to the floor with a thud.
And without any more thought, I let my feet carry me across the room and make a beeline for Rachel, who’s walking towards her closet.
“Do you need a hanger for your extra uniform?” she asks as she opens a door to it.
And I answer by creeping up behind her and slowly wrapping my arms around her waist, caressing her stomach inch by inch and pressing my body against her back.
“Quinn…”
I plant a kiss at the back of her head and I just know that she’s closing her eyes as she takes a deep breath. I’m also closing mine as I inhale her scent that’s neither shampoo nor perfume-just… distinctively Rachel.
She brings her hands up to cover mine, weaves our fingers together, and pulls me even closer.
Then her head moves in time with mine, leaning back on my left shoulder, as my head tilts to the right. And my nose follows her scent behind her ear… down to the corner of her jaw… where my lips part… and start ghosting across her cheek…
She turns her head to the side…
“Baby…”
We’re both breathing heavily.
“One kiss…”
And she gives in… slowly… deliberately… tilting her head up… until her lips brush against mine, once… twice… three times…
And we kiss…
…gently…
…languidly…
…as if we have all the time in the world…
She lifts her hand up to cup my cheek…
…and very gradually… turns her body around to face mine…
…and all the while… our kiss goes on… unhurried… and unbroken…
…and my hold around her never slackens…
I kiss her deeper as she wraps both arms around my neck, squeezing me harder as if she’s suddenly realizing that she missed this, too: kissing me.
And every stroke, every curl, every wave of her tongue against mine makes my body melt further… and further… and further into her… pushing her… until I have her pinned against the other door to her closet.
Then she sucks on my tongue… and my knees grow even weaker and my breathing… labored.
I break free from the kiss to briefly catch my breath then move my lips back to her jaw…
“Baby…”
I open my eyes…
…and only then I remember what we’re wearing.
Damn. Turtlenecks…
“Quinn…” she sighs again, sounding more urgent this time as I raise my right hand from the small of her back to her nape.
And my fingers curl around her collar, pulling it down, exposing one side of her neck.
“Baby, we should-” she gasps.
I hungrily get to every bit of bare skin I could, biting and lapping and marking her neck anew.
“Baby…” she moans, “we can’t-not tonight…” and that quickly sobers me up.
Oh, God. “I wasn’t-I’m not…”
I watch her open her eyes… and they’re darker than I’ve ever seen.
“I-I thought-”
“No… I wasn’t-I wasn’t thinking about that…”
“It-it felt like you were…”
Maybe I was…
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I’m not-I’m not gonna push you… into doing it.”
It’s almost imperceptible but I know she’s biting the inside of her lower lip as she nods. And I’m fighting the urge to kiss her again.
“I-I think we should-”
“Yeah…”
“I’ll just get-”
“Thanks…”
She turns around, opens the other door to her closet, and rummages inside. I hold on to it for support.
And soon, she hands me one of her dads’ old t-shirts that says Ohio State on the front and a pair of shorts. But then she turns around again to face me and whatever it is she wants to say seems lodged in her throat and makes her face turn a deep shade of red.
“What… what color thong would you like?”
O gord, temporal lobe plurning down to slithy runnel!
“Just-whatever’s the… biggest… and most elastic… ”
“But… I bought five stretchy ones… and-and the site recommended that I order a size larger.”
“Oh. Then, uhm… maybe you could give me the one you like the least.” There. I think that’ll do it.
But she’s mulling things over.
God, please, please end this conversation now. I can’t stand it.
“I… kind of like… all of them…”
Jesus! This is torture.
“Okay, well… what are their… colors?”
“Well, there’s pink… and hot pink… and purple… and orange and… black.”
Breathe, Fabray.
“Not the purple.”
“Oh, good, I really like the purple. It has hearts on it.”
Oh, Rachel. “I’m sure you really like the pink ones, too.”
“Yes…”
“So that just leaves-”
“-orange… or black.”
And I definitely want to see her in-
“Orange. I’ll… take the orange.”
There’s a distant look in her eyes as she nods again with her mouth hanging open.
But she doesn’t move.
She continues to gape at me the way she would if she ever saw Barbra Streisand walking away just around the corner and she couldn’t do anything about it.
“Baby…?” I whisper.
And she snaps out of her reverie, gasping as she blinks, and in a split second, she’s throwing herself at me, cleaving to my body and kissing me furiously.
Oh. God. Yes.
I’m stumbling backwards from the impact and kissing her back with as much fervor… and tongue… and teeth.
And in no time, we’re tumbling down onto her bed with a thump.
If it hurt, I didn’t notice. And I don’t really care.
Rachel is writhing on top of me, assaulting my lips, and my hands roam freely all over her back.
Then she mimics what I did with her collar earlier and-
Oh, God. Right there…
I try hard to regain my senses as she lingers on my neck and continue to kiss her wherever I could-from her temple, to her cheek, to her ear… and she gasps as my tongue darts out to lick at the shell and it’s just the opening I need.
Steadily, I lift my head without relinquishing her ear and pretty soon, she’s rolling on her back, driven… by the rest of my body, and whimpering…
And my body takes it to mean more.
I want more.
And my lips move on instinct, sliding down from her ear to-
Hello, turtleneck. We meet again.
This time, I use both hands to pull it down, exposing as much skin as I can and kissing every inch of it while Rachel is squirming and panting underneath me.
And she’s getting more restless by the second.
Her hands don’t know where to go.
I feel them reaching for her forehead, her hair, my hands, my wrists, my neck, my shoulders, my arms, down to her sheets, back to her sides, crumpling the fabric of her shirt and pulling it up to untuck from her skirt while arching her back and-
Hnnggg-
She grabs me by the neck, dragging my head up to kiss me again. And suddenly, I find myself lying on my back with her on top and my hands touching the smoothness at her waist.
Immediately, the touching turns to stroking, and the stroking leads to clutching at the hem of her shirt, and-
Fuuck-
I don’t wanna stop.
And I keep pulling and pulling and pulling her shirt up until she breaks off our kiss and lets me pull it over her head. And when I do, we’re already sitting and kissing again.
And she keeps yanking and yanking at my uniform without success until she gasps and suddenly stops kissing me and tries to break free. But I stubbornly chase after her lips even as I let her go and try to open the zippers of my uniform, which she must’ve forgotten about earlier. But it’s a little too late. And she’s pulling away.
And I feel awful as I open my eyes and watch her staggering backwards and hitting the door to her closet, grabbing the first item of clothing that she sees and covering herself with it.
And she stands there looking absolutely conflicted… and breathless… and breathtaking…