Glee - Fic: All This Feels Strange and Untrue
Quinn really should not have had that fifth drink. But Finn was being a jerk, not coming to the party with her because he had some family thing he promised his mom he’d go to, and had implied she was being unreasonable in her anger.
Quinn Fabray was not unreasonable. Ever.
She was however, agitated. Coming stag to Puck’s party was not her idea of a good time, especially not with Puck greeting her at the door with a drink and a smile. Puck was a temptation, a very wrong, very bad temptation and Quinn really wished that Finn was here so that she could tuck in against his side for a few hours before saying she had a headache and making him drive her home.
But he wasn’t, Puck was, and as Puck gave her another drink and ran his eyes over her body Quinn felt a warm buzz and forgot about how fat she’d been feeling all day. Puck may have been a manwhore, but he was a manwhore with standards. Well, some.
It’s after the fourth drink that Puck begins to usher her up the stairs, his hands on her hips and her hands clutching drink number five. He’s right behind her until one of the guys from the football team that Quinn doesn’t know that well calls his name.
“Puck, dude, Berry just showed up.”
Ray Berry. The all singing, all dancing, musical theatre loving queer. Quinn felt her lip curl in disgust. Ray Berry with his two dads, his MySpace videos, his unending enthusiasm for glee club and his infuriating belief that he would make it big and be a star. His belief he would get out of Lima.
Puck gave her a gentle push up the stairs, “Meet me in my room babe.”
Quinn watched Puck follow his teammate to wherever Ray was, and briefly considered following to see the show but her head was spinning a bit and she thought lying down might be a good idea.
She’d never been in Puck’s room before, but she was certain the bedroom she wandered into wasn’t his. It had to be his mothers, and Quinn figured since the older woman wasn’t there it was up for grabs. She lay down, immediately wishing she’d though to get a glass of water before she had. She sipped her wine cooler instead.
Quinn wasn’t sure how much time passed before the light above the bed flicked on, causing her to grunt in annoyance. She hoped it wasn’t Puck, she really couldn’t deal with him right now.
“Oh.”
The soft, deep voice was definitely not Puck. Quinn cracked her eyelids open to find a surprised looking Ray Berry hesitating in the doorway, his blue button up shirt soaked in a pale brown liquid that Quinn could only assume was beer. Following the trail of beer Quinn could see it had run down his torso, leaving the front of his plaid trousers damp. She let out an unflattering snort.
“Have an accident Ray?”
Ray paused before pulling his shoulders back, puffing out his chest and raising his chin. Quinn had seen him do the move many times before, usually before performing, or after being slushied in the hallway.
“Mike told me I could use the bathroom in here to clean up. I didn’t realise anyone was in here.”
Quinn gestured lazily to the en suite, “All yours.”
Ray nodded stiffly and walked across the bedroom. Quinn had always found Ray’s walk distracting. It was almost a strut and even now, soaked in beer and slightly tipsy (which Quinn realised with a quirked eyebrow, he actually was) he walked like he was on stage, like everybody was watching, and he had to ensure he was displayed to his best advantage.
Quinn watched him as he dabbed at his shirt with a towel, having absolutely no effect on the beer. She rolled her eyes in frustration and got to her feet. Ray frowned at her as she swayed a little and finished the rest of her drink, the frown deepening when she squeezed into the bathroom with him.
She assessed the damage, and then reached out with two fingers, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
“Take it off.”
Ray blinked, “Excuse me?”
“You need to rinse it, otherwise it’ll get sticky, and it’ll be easier if you just take it off so we can run it under the tap. So take it off. You’d think you’d know how to do this with how often you get a slushie in the face.”
“I usually have a change of clothes.”
Quinn was not in the mood for this, she wanted to go home, forget what she knew had almost happened with Puck and wake up tomorrow with a slight hangover that she would call Finn to get sympathy about.
But she had no ride, and Puck’s mother’s room seemed like the best bet for her to get some sleep until she could drive herself home, and there was no way she was going to be able to sleep with Ray Berry in the bathroom.
In a move that seemed entirely appropriate considering how the rest of her night was going, Ray crossed his arms and eyed her suspiciously.
“Are you just planning on running away with my clothes?”
“Why would I want to spend any longer near those monstrosities than I have too?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s done it,” Ray replied, and for a brief moment Quinn was sure she saw hurt flash through his eyes before the usual arrogance appeared again.
Quinn sighed, “I just want to get you out of here, so get your damn shirt off.”
Still frowning, Ray unbuttoned his shirt, slipped it off his shoulders and handed it to her.
Quinn tried very hard not to stare. It wasn’t that she’d ever thought Ray was out of shape or anything, rather she’d never thought about his body at all. Ever. But if she had she was sure she would never have guessed what was going on under his clothes. He wasn’t a broad wall of muscle like Puck, or even Finn. He was a smallish guy, but with a finely defined torso and strong looking arms and shoulders. She could see a slight smattering of dark hair on his chest but other than that his skin looked smooth and soft.
Quinn swallowed, and turned to the sink.
“How’d this happen anyway?”
“Well, everyone was saying that the party was open to everyone, so I figured why not?”
“Maybe because no one likes you?”
Whatever reaction her comment may have caused Quinn didn’t see it, instead she kept her eyes on the darkening blue of the shirt as she ran water over it.
Ray continued, “Anyway, I arrived and actually thought the football team wasn’t even going to let me in, but then Puck invited me in, gave me a drink - and I don’t usually drink, but it is his party - and I thought things were going rather well. But I guess they were waiting till I’d had too much to drink to drive home, because one minute I was explaining Wicked to Brittany, and the next I was covered in beer.”
Quinn turned to look at him then, noted how he avoided her eyes. It occurred to her that getting people too drunk to run away was apparently Puck’s MO, but tried not to dwell on it too much.
She looked at the wet shirt in her hands and sighed.
“You can’t wear this; it’s even more wet now.”
Ray’s shoulders slumped, “Oh. Well, thank you anyway. I guess I’ll just... wait for it to dry.”
He looked at her for a moment before his brows drew together, “Would you like a drink of water?”
As soon as he said it Quinn realised that yes, she would really, really like a drink of water.
“Go, sit,” he shooed her out of the room, taking his shirt from her and hanging it over the edge of the tub before filling a glass with water and bringing it back into the bedroom to her.
She gulped it down, and murmured a quiet thank you.
“No problem. Hydration is very important. Good for the skin too. You have very nice skin, so you should make sure you keep hydrated so you don’t lose it. Your good skin I mean.”
Quinn gave him an incredulous look, and Ray cleared his throat.
“Sorry, alcohol and nervousness make me talk a lot. Even more than usual.”
“You’re nervous?”
Ray’s eyes darted around the room, as if looking for an escape, “Well, I’m somewhat trapped in Noah Puckerman’s house, shirtless, in a bedroom, with a girl who generally seems to consider me lower than dirt and who is dating Puck’s best friend. And who Puck obviously planned on sleeping with tonight.”
Quinn gasped, and Ray looked apologetic.
“I heard him talking to one of the lacrosse players about how you were waiting up in his room...”
Quinn felt her cheeks burning, and tears stinging her eyes. She’d know, of course she’d known, but now, here, she felt stupid and naive. Then to her horror, she was crying. Big, gasping sobs that made Ray jump away from her in shock.
“Quinn?”
She cried harder, she cried about Finn not being there, about the look her father had given her when she’d left the house in a skirt she knew he thought was too short, about the glass of amber liquid in her mother’s hand as she absently bid Quinn a good night, about Coach Sylvester saying she was getting to heavy to be at the top of the pyramid, about Puck, who was probably with some other girl in his room at this very moment and about Ray Berry, with his painful honesty and gentle hands that were stroking her back as she buried her face in his chest.
After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minute Quinn pulled back, wiping her face and feeling humiliated.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m just drunk.”
Ray just smiled gently, “That’s okay. Crying is a good way to relieve stress I find.”
“You realised you just admitted to crying.”
Ray looked confused, “So? Everyone does it; it’s nothing to be ashamed of, like burping or masturbating.”
Quinn pulled further away from him, “Just how drunk are you?”
Ray had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, “Sorry, I just get frustrated with people who deny their basic instincts; crying, ambition, sex...”
Quinn sneered, an effect somewhat ruined by her dabbing her eyes dry with a tissue she found in her pocket, “Because you’re getting laid so often Berry?”
Ray shrugged, infuriatingly casual, “No, but I can admit that I want to. I don’t feel the need to have a club designed to make me feel guilty for merely wanting.”
Quinn felt a sharp spark of anger, “You know nothing about the celibacy club. It’s not about denial, or guilt or shame-
“-I never said anything about shame.”
“God! Shut up, you freak. If you’re so in touch with your basic instincts why don’t you admit that you’re gay!”
Ray looked back at her calmly, “Because I’m not. I’m certainly open to the possibility of falling in love with a man, but at this stage of my life I’ve only ever been attracted to women. Why are you so defensive of the celibacy club? Surely it only matters that you believe it.”
“You sound so condescending.”
Ray’s smile was almost mocking, “Because I don’t think you believe it. I’ve seen you, forcing yourself to pull back from Finn, watching Puck. You want them Quinn Fabray, no matter how hard you pray, you still want.”
Quinn thinks the slap shocks her more than him, which is saying something because Ray looks very shocked.
Still, she leans in close to his face, “You know nothing about what I want.”
Ray leans a little closer, “You want the same thing as everyone else.”
Just like she has never thought about Ray’s body, Quinn has never really thought about Ray’s face other than to wish he would keep it away from her. But in the moment before he kisses her she sees him for what seems like the first time. Dark eyes, heavy eyebrows, a slightly too big nose, pouty lips that almost seem out of place on a boy but that seem to fit, somehow. It all seems to fit together, and if he was anybody else Quinn might call him handsome.
He’s usually clean shaven at school, but it’s a Saturday, and who-knows-how-late, and he has dark stubble visible. When their lips meet Quinn feels it scratch against her chin, and she enjoys the feel of it under her palm as she cups his cheek.
The kiss is soft and slow, so different from the slap, it’s almost like an apology. Ray doesn’t reach for her, doesn’t touch her, he just moves his lips in time with hers.
She pulls back, and it takes a moment for Ray to open his eyes. They’re glassy, his pupils dilated, and Quinn knows that look well from Finn. She can’t help it; she looks down at his stupid, hideous trousers and blushes.
The sound of Ray clearing his throat forces Quinn’s eyes back to his, and he’s blushing too.
“Sorry. We’re... we’re drunk,” he grabs a pillow, pulls it over his lap and laughs awkwardly, “I didn’t mean to make you think you had to prove anything. Though suppose I proved my point!”
He smiled a little desparately.
She kissed him again.
It was almost with anger, and as she pushed him back onto the bed and straddled his lap Quinn bit down on his lip, hard.
“Ow! Quinn, what the hell?”
“Shut up.”
She didn’t want him to talk, she hated his voice, except when he was singing. Hated how he danced, hated his smile and his eyes.
She hated that she wanted him. She had never felt this way about him before, she was sure, not even in some repressed, depraved part of her mind.
But she wanted.
It was the fifth drink. It had to be.
She kissed him again.
Ray’s hands were creeping up her thighs, fingertips brushing against her skin in a way that left goose bumps in their wake. He was kissing her back, but not angry and biting like she was. He took her punishment, and responded gently.
She wished he’d stop that.
She pulled back, “I hate you.”
He just nodded absently, rising up to chase her lips, “Uh huh.”
She pulled away again, “You’re pathetic.”
He hummed against her lips.
She gripped his hair and pulled his head back, “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”
He rolled his eyes, “Fine, fine, I get it.”
Then he flipped them, causing Quinn to blink in confusion as he was suddenly looming over her.
He was kissing her again, grinding his hips into her thigh in a way that reminded her of making out for Finn. For a moment she expected him to shudder and gasp above her before apologising and running off to change his pants.
Instead his hands were under her shirt, running over her stomach and brushing the bottom of her bra and Quinn had never let anyone get this far before but she didn’t want to stop, she pressed herself closer to Ray, hooked a leg over his hip and shivered as he moaned deeply into her neck.
Then her shirt was gone, and her bra (and where did Ray learn to get a bra off that quickly?) and his mouth was on her breasts and Quinn was sure she was muttering something but she had no idea what it was.
Ray moved down her body, pressing kisses onto her stomach until he reached the waist of her skirt. It was already bunched up almost to her hips, her leg now practically under Ray’s arm, and Quinn realised how she must look. Topless, legs open, moving desperately against Ray; she must look like a whore.
To her horror she felt like crying again but then Ray’s hands were running up her sides and he was nuzzling her cheek and whispering in her ear.
“God, you’re so beautiful.”
He sounded so earnest, so in awe, Quinn wanted more, more of him.
They worked together to get her skirt off, then her underwear was gone and Ray was there, with his fingers and mouth were no one had ever touched her before.
It was dirty and wrong, for him to be using his mouth like that, but God, God forgive her she gripped her hand in his hair and held him in place. She’d never experienced this before, had no comparison, but if describing she might say it was a little clumsy. But she would also describe it as extremely enthusiastic and damn effective. Not that she would ever describe this to anyone, ever.
Quickly Ray found a rhythm that seemed to work for them both and Quinn found her hips jerking in a way she couldn’t control, a strange pull low in her belly, like she was about to fall but that she wanted to. It was scary, and Quinn pulled Ray away from her in a panic.
Ray let out a disappointed whimper and looked at Quinn in confusion. His face was wet, and Quinn felt her face burning but refused to think about it.
She wanted, she wanted so much, but she couldn’t let that happen.
She sat up and quickly undid his pants, jerking them down his hips and growling when he had to stand to get them off, his boxer briefs following and Quinn averted her eyes. She couldn’t look, she wouldn’t.
She dragged him back, kissed him and forced herself not to jerk away from the taste of herself on his mouth.
She pulled him between her legs, tried to pull his hips to her, tried to pull him into her.
Ray sat up, flushed and panting, “Just a sec.”
He went to get off the bed and Quinn felt her irritation peek. She could feel the alcohol wearing off. She just needed this to be over with.
“What are you doing?”
Ray looked up from digging around in the pocket of his pants.
“I’m getting a condom,” he explained, panting but obviously unembarrassed.
Quinn scowled, “Forget it, just, come on.”
Ray looked troubled.
“Forget it? Unless you mean forget this whole thing - which, of course, you are welcome to do - I will certainly not be continuing without protection.”
The entire situation was insane, and during it Quinn had somehow managed to forget how annoying she found Ray. But as he stood there, naked, holding his wallet in one hand and pants in the other giving her a superior look and talking about protection it all came back to her.
“What are saying? You think I’m some slut who will give you something?”
Ray looked shocked, and Quinn decided she liked that look better than superiority. Then the shock softened into something that almost looked like sympathy.
“Of course not. I just want to keep you safe, to keep both of us safe. I’m sure both of us are free of STDs, but we should still be careful. Not to mention pregnancy-“
“Just pull out, it’s fine, just-“
“Quinn! That is not an effective form of birth control! It’s one of the first things they tell you in sex ed. Not to mention the many, many talks my fathers have given me.”
A disturbed look crossed his face.
“The many talks...”
No, no, no. Quinn could not deal with this. He was talking about pregnancy and consequences and she was sobering up and she needed him to hurry the hell up because otherwise she was going to have to stop and she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to, but she needed to alcohol as an excuse, she knew she did.
“Fine! Just... get one.”
Ray looked like he wanted to say more but appeared to be distracted by her breasts for a moment, before frantically digging through his wallet.
“It’s actually not the best place for a condom, a wallet, but I always put a new one in each day to reduce the chance of them being damaged. Not that I assume I’ll be having sex everyday or anything, just... my dad’s, they’re very involved in my life-“
“Ray!”
Ray jumped, and Quinn almost growled in frustration, “Shut up, put it on and get over here.”
Ray nodded, thankfully silent. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her, and she could hear him opening the packet. Honestly, she was curious and wanted to watch, but still could not bring herself to look.
Then he was over her again, hips settled between her legs, kissing her softly. He used one arm to brace himself above her, the other going between them to guide himself inside.
It hurt, it really did. He was slow and gentle, but it still hurt. Not excruciating, but definitely uncomfortable, and Quinn found herself squirming away.
Ray’s head snapped up from where it had been buried in her shoulder, almost looking terrified.
“Quinn?”
Quinn forced herself to be still, to relax. It wasn’t hurting as much now, and she ran a hand down Ray’s back, soothing his obvious tension.
“It’s okay now.”
He still looked hesitant, so Quinn moved her hips against him slightly, and smirked at the choked sound he made.
He started moving, slowly, a bit jerky and he seemed to need to stop and gather himself every few strokes. Quinn was enthralled, watching his face, his eyes shut tight and mouth open slightly as he panted steadily.
She thought she got it now, why people wanted this, why she wanted this.
Ray’s hand slipped between them, pressing on something that made her eyes roll back in her head, and there was that feeling of falling again. This time she let it happen.
She’d never felt to out of control of her body before, they way she clenched and bucked against and around the body on top of her. It felt good. So very good.
When she opened her eyes again Ray was still on top of her, unmoving except for some quick panting. Then he shifted carefully, pulling out of her and Quinn shivered at the feel of the cool air hitting her damp flesh.
Ray lingered half on top of her for a moment before rolling off the bed.
“I just need to get rid of the...”
He trailed off, walking back to the en suite. She heard the toilet flush, but he didn’t return.
Still feeling sleepy, but very unlike she’d be able to sleep Quinn rose from the bed. She frowned at the soreness between her legs and headed for Ray.
He was leaning against the bathroom counter, arms wrapped around his middle, a distraught look on his face. Seeing her he almost looked like he was going to cry.
“Quinn. Are you okay? I’m sorry, I was coming back. Are you okay? Did I hurt you? There was,” he paused to clear his throat, “There was blood.”
Quinn didn’t understand. Of course there was blood; even she knew that wasn’t unexpected. How could he be worried about the slight pain when he’d made her feel so good? He made her feel better than anyone ever had.
She moved so she was pressed against him, unwrapped his arms from his torso and set them around her hips. She put her own arms around his shoulders and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips.
“I’m... great.”
His face softened, melting into a smile.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She kissed him again, and he pulled her more firmly against her. They were still naked, but somehow it wasn’t bothering her. She felt like perfection.
He hardened against her hip, and Quinn giggled.
Ray blushed, “Sorry.”
“I’m not.”
He looked surprised, but pleased. Quinn was pretty sure she was behaving in a way that would get her disowned, but she really didn’t care. She looked behind her to the shower.
“How about we get cleaned up and deal with that.”
Ray frowned, “I don’t have any more condoms.”
Quinn almost considered telling him not to worry again, but did not want to hear the leacture repeated. She wracked her brain for a moment before remembering something she’d heard once.
“How about you show me some safe alternatives?”
Quinn suspected that to Ray, that was the sexiest thing she’d said all night.
Later, in the shower as they (safely and responsibly) brought each other over the edge Quinn took a moment to ponder how she’d managed to end up in Puck’s mother’s shower with Ray Berry doing sinful things between her legs. As it had worked pretty well earlier in the night, Quinn decided not to think about it. She also decided not to think about what would happen tomorrow, either.