Author's note: I had to delete this to fix the mistakes, because I saw way too many for my tastes, so this is the finished product. I hope it reads all right for what little it is.. So, yeah, Pezberry week! Hells yes! I am so excited, and had to take part in at least one day this week. This is day 2, 'first kiss' Short, but maybe sweet? I dunno, tell me what you guys think, cause I worked on this while multitasking with babysitting 4 munchkins. Sorry for any other mistakes, or if it sucks.. ^.^
Prompt: Pezberry week, day two: First kiss
Summary: Rachel, overhearing Kurt and Santana's conversation, and proud of her for willing to stand up for Klaine, she follows Santana to Dalton Academy without her knowledge, ready to back her up if needed. What she didn't expect though, is to see red. Stupid summary I know, but had a hard time writing one.
Spoilers: All 3 seasons to be safe, there are mentions of things from a few episodes, but nothing really 'major' I don't think..
Disclaimer: I do not own glee, but this short story is mine.
The sleek black car backs up from its usual parking space at school, and I watch as it drives away before following. I had seen Santana stop by the classroom Kurt was residing in, and may have eves dropped in on their conversation, in which prompted my decision to follow her… Santana spoke of getting even with Sebastian for Kurt and Blaine without acting out in violence, which made me proud that she would risk herself to confront someone for anyone other than herself or Brittany. Only, I was so intrigued yet worried for her, that I honestly didn't want her to go alone, so I chose to tag along (not that she knows this..), because I wanted to be there for her. And, maybe because I wanted to see what she had up her metaphorical sleeve, she is after all a mastermind at deception and playing games.
Of course, that isn't the only reason, my crush on the beautiful, hurtful cheerio definitely came into play as well. Things she does like this often overpower the insults tossed at me just as cold as the slushies thrown in my face, so her doing this, along with the other good deeds she has accomplished for our makeshift family at certain points, tells me, shows me, that she cares despite how mean she can be to us. It makes me want to know her, I mean, look at the way she treats Brittany, that right there shows anyone who does or does not know her that she is capable of affection toward another human being.
I want that, but more specifically, I want that from her. I crave her affection, I need her to look at me the way she looks at Brittany, and I need her to see me as something other than the annoying diva that talks a mile a minute, and is a selfish loser with 'Man hands.' I told Quinn at prom that she was the prettiest girl I had ever met, but Santana, God, she is an exotic beauty, and really knows how to undo me without even trying. Not that she ever would try, because, no, she will never see me as anything more than how she treats me.
After tailing her at an inconspicuous pace, she pulls into Dalton Academy and swerves into a free space. I pass the school to give her time to get inside, turn back around, and then entering the parking lot, I pull up beside her. Albeit a little less...crookedly. Damn, even that is ridiculously hot. I sigh and get out, then hurry to the front entrance, where I hesitantly pry their door open and peek in. Everything is quiet and there is no one in sight, so I sneak around, trying to find where Santana could have ended up. Music makes me stop in my tracks and has my ears perking up, the song instantly recognizable, and I start moving again, heading straight toward the sound. The double doors leading to my destination is cracked, and I waste no time in carefully peering around the chunk of wood.
Sebastian and Santana are alone, with the exception of the cello players in the middle of the room, and the two teens are circling around each other as they sing it out. I do have to say that despite only hearing and seeing them for a few seconds, Santana is without a doubt vocally owning his ass. My eyes don't stay on the guy responsible for my best friend's boyfriend having to have eye surgery; they drift over to the sexiest woman alive. Seriously, what she has on should be illegal; she is hella sexy in black, and the fedora she is sporting? Well, it was made for her. And dear Lord in heaven, that voice.
I really want to slap some duct tape over Sebastian's mouth, and then shove his cocky ass right out the room so that I can focus solely on Santana's raspy, soul stealing voice alone. Damn, the things she does to me, singing, talking, that cheerleading uniform.. is something that Finn cannot even accomplish with one single kiss.
"Rock salt" I tune back in just in time to hear him speak, and then realizing what he said, I tense up in sheer anger.
"But, you don't have to worry." He adds on, turning to his classmates who have come in behind him.
"How can you say that, I just told you that Blaine had to have surgery." Santana argues disbelievingly, and I glare at the idiot daring to stand in her presence and talk smack to her face.
"It's okay, because this one doesn't have any in it." Before either of us can react, red, icy cold slushie is tossed right in Santana's face.
Santana gasps in shock while the guys leave without an ounce of remorse; I grit my teeth, seething at the audacity of these, these monsters! And, Santana, well she is just standing there, frozen in place, so, not caring that I am about to reveal myself to her, I stride over there, hands balled into fists at my side. The red slush is dripping down her face, to her gorgeous as hell outfit, and to the floor. Her eyes are closed, tightly scrunched to keep out the corn syrup, and maybe even to keep any tears of humiliation at bay. Maybe. I watch as her posture stiffens, signaling that she senses someone in front of her, and if at all possible, she becomes both defensive, - ready to strike out - and drawn into herself. I'm sure that I only notice the difference because I am observing her so closely.
"Santana." I whisper softly so as not to scare her, and slide my fingers down her arms for reassurance. Comfort.
Or, you know, for a reason to touch her.
Her eyes snap open, they are wide and darting over me, and then they blink as her brows furrow, "Berry?"
"Hi. Come on; let's go get you cleaned up, okay?" I greet her with a shy smile, feeling it even though she is the one who should feel open and vulnerable right now.
"Uh, what?" Still blinking dumbly, she shakes her head to rid of cobwebs, well, ok, probably to rid herself of the sight of me.
"Right, ok, that slushie must have sent me into shock, because why the fuck are you standing in front of me?" She looks at me incredulously, obviously not believing that I am here nor understanding why I even would be.
Of course, why wouldn't she wonder? We are not friends, if anyone should be here in my stead, it should be Brittany, or even Quinn.
But, here I am. I am the one who is here for her, wiling to take care of her no matter our past, and that is what I am going to do.
Whether she wants it or not.
"I followed you." I admit aloud, unashamed and unafraid.
Well, maybe a little of the latter, this is Santana Lopez after all… She could snap at me for less than nothing.
"Whaa-why?" Confused looks adorable on her, and it is a far cry from the disdain she just loves to throw my way.
I lick my lips and think on how to answer her without sounding like a total creeper, but either way I put it, I will more than likely sound weird, mushy, or seriously gay for her. Which I am, but she doesn't need to know that..
"I may have overheard your conversation with Kurt, and I just, I wanted-" I shake my head, cutting myself off from saying something completely out of line.
I don't think I could handle the look of disgust she would undoubtedly pierce me with.
"You wanted...? What, to come give me some lame ass lecture about violence or to come watch someone else crush the infamous Santana Lopez?" She beckons me to continue with a wave of her hand and an arch of her eyebrow, taking wild guesses in the process, guesses that may seem likely, but could not be further from the truth.
Heart beating hard against my ribs, my fingers, still connected to her (Though she hasn't seemed to notice), tenderly caress the long sleeve covered arms, before grasping her hand, "I didn't follow you for either of those reasons, Santana, just, let's find a restroom and get you cleaned up."
She narrows her eyes at me in a scowl, hand pulling free from mine; I frown, hurt, and step back.
Not that I expected any different.
"I don't need your help, RuPaul, so take you touchy feely shit somewhere else." As if her rejecting my attempt at physical comfort was not enough, she has to go and add a verbal one.
Again, not that I expected any different.
Another step back, this time from flinching at the cruel tone spit out at me. She doesn't even spare a glance my way as she storms past me with a shoulder check, and I don't even react when cherry slush splashes my clothes, I am used to it after all. Her words, and obvious distaste for me just now hurts far worse than any slushie, however, I came here for one reason and one reason only, to make sure she was going to be okay in a room full of guys, as she did what she had to do to stand up for our friends. So, I will not stop now, I am Rachel Berry and Rachel Berry does everything in her power to take care of her...friends.
Whether she wants it or not, right? Right.
I humph and speed out the room, needing to catch up to her so that I can help. The sound of her heeled boots click clacking echo throughout the halls, and helps me catch up to her fairly quickly, also, the trail of red ice helps out as well. I round the corner just in time to see Santana enter a door, and with a deep breath, I join her in the restroom. She is standing at the mirror, eyes closed, head down, and hands clenched around white porcelain, which causes my heart to pang painfully. Seeing her this way is a rare occurrence, and one I honestly hope never to see again. It doesn't matter that she has made me look similarly down on more than one occasion, well it does matter, but witnessing the same on her hurts no less and more than I could express.
"Why are you here, Rachel?" I don't know if she heard the door open and close, or if she has some kind of sensing powers when it comes to me, but whatever it is, it makes me feel tingly that she knows it is me, and not one of the Warblers coming back for round two. Also, she knows my name? I think this is the first time I have ever heard her call me by my given name.
I like it, a lot; it sounds…right, rolling from her tongue and falling from her lips.
"I'm here for you." It slips out my mouth before it even had a chance to run through my mind, and a flush spreads up my face to the tips of my ears.
Right after her head snaps up, her eyes once again snap open, and they instantly lock on mine through the mirror, "What does that even mean?"
"I-I, um, it, I wanted to c-cheer you on?" What the hell just came out of my mouth? That was not even an answer!
It was a stuttered, half-assed attempt at an answer that turned into a question.
See what she does to me? I always feel so discombobulated around her.
"What are you, my cheerleader now? You suck at lying. So, why don't you do us both a favor and tell me why you're really here." She scoffs at me as a wet paper towel wipes over red dyed skin.
Now I know I'm screwed because of her, I am jealous of a damn paper towel.
Oh, how I wish it were my tongue cleaning her of cherry slushie, and even if it is my least favorite flavor, it would be the best taste on earth because it is mixed with smooth, sticky sweet skin.
"You are correct, lying is not one of my strong suits nor do I wish it to be." I nod, agreeing with her. "I didn't want you to come alone, okay?"
Her brow rises questioningly, and perhaps a bit bemusedly as well, "Smurf, I can handle myself, okay? I do not need a 4ft bodyguard."
Offended, I huff at her and cross my arms, "I know you can take care of yourself, Miss I am untouchable, but be that as it may, I wanted to be here… For you."
She turns fully around at that, surprise clearly written on her face, before she schools her features to look indifferent, "Why, so you could make sure one of your underling's lives to make it to another glee performance? You don't care about us Rachel; we're just teammates, expendable to you. All you care about is glee, not-mmph"
Frustrated and more than a little desperate, I crush my lips to hers to shut her up of the lies spewing from wet, red, plump lips. She gasps against my mouth and her body tenses, I press my own into her, not caring about the slushie soaking her dress, and needing the extra contact now that I have her lips right where I have always wanted them. Her cool lips are soft, softer than any I have ever kissed, they are like pillows, and mesh against mine so perfectly, that I cannot help but whimper. She tastes better than I imagined, and when she gasps again, I delve deeper to dip straight from the source. I swipe my tongue along the roof of her mouth, and she makes a noise between a soft, surprised moan, and a mewl.
The sound vibrates inside my mouth, and I shudder, hands grasping around her waist as if she were a lifeline.
My lifeline.
"Rachel?" She jerks her head back, my name rasping from her lips, and her eyes boring into mine, searching them.
Dissecting.
"I care." I whisper, my own eyes holding hers and letting her seek out the truth.
I have nothing to hide now.
Not after that.
"Y-You, you kissed me." Tan fingers play across her lips, as if she is stupefied by what just occurred.
Yeah, I am actually 100% sure that she is.
"Y-Yes." I breathe out shyly, head bowing to look away from her intense, dilating orbs for a brief moment.
I swear to God if I look too long, I will meld myself to every part of her, and would never let go.
One taste of lips stained red, and I am addicted instantly.
"W-Why?" Damn, we are starting to sound like Tina, and I would laugh if the situation were not so foreign and…serious.
"I care." I repeat my earlier admission, hoping that it will sink in.
"Rachel… You don't. You can't." She shakes her head negatively, still not believing me, or not wanting to.
"Santana, I. Care." I look her dead in the eye, and softly yet forcefully repeat for a third time.
When she says nothing for several moments, instead clenching her jaw and glancing away, I bite my lip to keep from uttering a sound, and stumble back.
"And, I-I know that you don't, but I just, I needed you to know that Brittany is not the only one who sees you. I do too. I always have, in fact, I see you so much that is hurts." Not ready to give up and leave, I try some raw honesty in hopes that she will understand, and in turn, finally trust me.
Still, she does not react, I can't even see her face unless I were to move again, but even though I am fighting my will tooth and nail not to curl into her, it is obvious that she doesn't want me to close the distance again. And, even though it breaks me further, I turn away, biting my tongue now to keep from opening my mouth and begging her to say something, hell, to look at me even. I am two steps forward, when a cold hand wraps around my wrist, and before I can react, I am tugged, hard, against Santana's body, and her lips are attacking mine with fervor.
My arms automatically wrap around her, as if they belong there, and to me, they do. Despite the coldness coming from her dress, and her hands, the rest of her is warm, I can feel heat radiating from her torso, and drawn to it, I melt into her like I have longed to ever since the words 'glee is the best part of my day' left her mouth.
It was then that I knew she was not who we all thought she was, and it is now that I know I would give anything to learn, memorize, and love the real Santana Lopez.
It is also now that I feel something hard where I shouldn't, and it reluctantly causes me to pull back from her lips, "Is that a head light, or are you just happy to see me?"
A choked laugh escapes her mouth, and she buries her head into the crook of my neck,
"I-I am happy to see you, but this right here, is our ticket to take Sebastian Smythe down."
I gasp as she guides my hand to her breast, eyes bulging out at the bold move and at the fact that I am touching her, even if it is 'over the shirt.' I blink when we stop where I had felt the hard…object, and she jiggles our hands, 'emphasizing' her words or point or… Wait, what were we talking about?
"W-What?" I splutter, breathing heavier than normal, and brain turned to mush.
"Evidence. You know, maybe you could uh, help me out of this, and I could show you." She chuckles lightly, and replies as shyly as I have ever heard her sound.
Then again, I have never heard her sound shy.
"Well, I did follow you to h-help in case you were in need of my services, so, I-I wouldn't be opposed." More stammering flows out, but I mean every word, and want nothing more than to 'help.'
Though, 'helping' with Santana comes first, so whatever evidence that happens to be in her cleavage will have to wait.
"Come to my house?" Eyes fluttering shut, she licks her lips at my answer, and I nod against her head to answer her own timid question.
Words? What words?
"Rachel?"
"Hmm?"
"I um, I care too."
I squeeze her to me then, tears of a different kind springing to my eyes at the soft admission, and this time it is my top lip that I nibble on before I can't take another second of not having lips stained red pressed against my own. I gently push her from my neck, and then I seize her cherry lips in a kiss for a third time.
Ten minutes later, we are driving (speeding) on the way to her house, and I could not be any happier to be breaking the law for the very first time.
As far as first kisses go, well, there is no comparison.