The charter bus is too big for the New Directions, but Rachel must admit that it's nice not to sit next to someone on the ride home from Cleveland, especially after the bus driver gets lost leaving the city. They end up halfway to Cuyahoga Falls before they realize something is wrong and have to stop at a gas station while the bus driver Googles directions on his iPhone. The majority of the Glee club follows Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury into the gas station while Artie, Brittany, Rachel, and Santana stay behind.
How could he possibly get so turned around? We're so off schedule now. We won't be home until way after midnight at this rate. My dads are not going to be happy. Rachel shifts in her seat, pulling her pink-and-star-blanket tighter to her chin and huffing softly in irritation.
She could go on, really, but her train of thought is interrupted when she hears Santana's distinctive hiss from the back of the bus. "Britts, come on, I just want-"
"I know, San, but I promised Artie." Brittany's voice is so quiet Rachel actually strains to hear her response.
"But Stubbles is asleep and he's kind of stuck up there so…" she can hear Artie shifting in his seat, his blanket rustling noisily from somewhere up at the front of the bus. A short silence stretches over the bus, and they can momentarily hear the bus driver cursing at his phone from somewhere outside near the front of the bus.
"No, I'm sorry Santana, but I really promised him, and I have to keep it." Brittany's voice is still soft, but firmer than before, and Rachel can hear Santana sigh audibly. Rachel snaps her eyes closed quickly as Brittany comes prancing up the aisle shortly after and drops into the seat next to Artie near the front.
Rachel turns her attention back to Santana, who grunts and shifts around audibly. Rachel's strategic placement near the middle of the bus makes it hard to hear, but she can tell the ex-cheerleader is tapping her foot roughly against the floor of the bus. She leans back in her seat, trying to focus on the almost three hours of sleep stretching before her. Mr. Schue mentioned putting RENT into the DVD player, and that could keep her focused on something other than the frustrated sighs coming from the far back of the bus.
It could, but it won't. Rachel huffs softly and slips out of her seat, stalking down the aisle until she reaches Santana who is focusing hard on the traffic rushing by the gas station.
"Santana," Rachel hisses, ducking her head over Brittany's recently vacated seat and leaning close to the taller brunette.
"Jesus, Fraggle, what do you want?" Santana turns her head slightly, just enough to see Rachel in her periphery.
"Is everything alright?" Rachel slips into the seat casually and smoothes her skirt out of habit.
"What? I'm fine. So you can scuttle back to your Hobbit hole or whatever." She crosses her arms across her chest defensively and turns her attention back to the window.
"Actually, I don't think you're alright, and I'd like to keep you company, if you don't mind."
"Whatever, just like, don't talk to me." Santana can picture the smirk on Rachel's face and rolls her eyes a little, but settles back into her seat because it is nice to not be stuck in the back alone like a reject. And Rachel does smell really nice. So the Latina shrugs off the fact that, normally, she would push the Podling out of the seat faster than Finnept could knock over another chair, and lets her arm drop to the middle armrest, but she keeps her eyes glued firmly to the road.
As predicted, once Mr. Schue and the rest of the club trickle onto the bus, he pops RENT into the on-board DVD player, and everyone turns their attention to the monitors hanging from the roof of the bus. Well, most everyone. Artie and Brittany are sleeping under Brittany's tie dyed Snuggie, Mike and Sam are talking animatedly about some video game, and both Finn and Puck are snoring loud enough to earn smacks from Kurt and Mercedes. Most importantly, Santana can actively feel Rachel's eyes boring into the side of her face.
"What," Santana rolls her head to the side to meet Rachel's gaze.
"I just-" Rachel furrows her brows and tilts her head slightly, her eyes flickering over Santana's face as if she's just seeing the taller girl for the first time.
"Spit it out, Man Hands, I wanna sleep."
"You're pretty." Rachel says in a rush, the flush in her cheeks unnoticeable in the dark of the back of the bus.
"Huh?" Santana's eyebrow shoots up skeptically, and she crosses her arms defensively across her chest. "Are you joking?"
"Why would I joke about that?" Rachel frowns and crosses her arms to match Santana. "I'm serious."
"Well, um, thanks… Berry." Santana relaxes, her arms falling back to her lap.
"Call me Rachel."
"Uh… What? I-" Santana feels Rachel (feels, because she refuses to look at her) lean in closer, her hand drifting across the arm rest to touch the Latina's arm. Santana swallows hard and grips the armrest lightly, unsure of why Rachel's voice is making her shiver a little.
"Call me Rachel? Please." Suddenly Rachel's voice is sort of husky and she practically moans her pleading. Her lips are hovering right next to Santana's ear, her breath hot against the taller brunette's skin.
"O-okay." She exhales shakily and fixes her gaze on the headrest in front of her.
"Okay?" Rachel runs her fingers down Santana's arm and traces the bones of her wrist with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Rachel." Santana manages to mumble out before she bites down on her lip - hard - because Rachel nips hard at her earlobe quickly, and the ex-cheerleader has to struggle to hold in a shocked moan.
"Thank you." Rachel leans back into her seat, craning her head back to see the nearest screen. Santana groans exasperatedly when she realizes Rachel is stubbornly intent upon watching RENT even though she can feel the sharp throb on her earlobe where Rachel's teeth had bitten down.
"Seriously? The fuck was that, Berry?"
"I asked you to call me-"
"Rachel, yeah. Sorry. What the fuck was that about, Rachel?"
"Please, Santana. Let's not pretend that you didn't just proposition Brittany for sex while we were at the gas station," Rachel hisses softly, leaning closer to Santana, "and let's also not pretend that seven minutes in heaven didn't happen at my party."
"Shit."
"I don't think it's necessary to swear."
"Come on, Rach. You gotta admit that it's a little hard for me to grasp."
"I do," Rachel says simply, rolling her head to look directly at Santana, "but it's the truth. So…" Rachel's hand is back across the arm rest, tentatively stroking the inside of the taller girl's forearm as she leans in closer, her lips gently brushing Santana's jaw line.
"Oh," Santana sighs softly, her eyelids fluttering closed as Rachel kisses a soft trail down Santana's neck. "Okay, I could be down with this."
"Mmm," Rachel hums softly before pressing a kiss over Santana's pulse point, "Santana?"
"Uh huh?" Santana tilts her head to the side slightly, closing her eyes again as the dirty yellow from the street lamps falls across her face.
"Stop talking," the shorter brunette practically whispers against Santana's skin before biting down hard and sucking lightly at the skin there.
"Guh," Santana gasps and grips the arm rest tightly, her whole body tingling with the sensation of Rachel-fucking-Berry's teeth and tongue against her skin. "Ber-er- Rachel. Rachel?" Santana gasps softly, squirming as Rachel's hand makes its way across her stomach and traces the cotton of her shirt in a slow swirl.
"Yes, Santana?" Rachel practically purrs and, fuck, when did Rachel get so fucking sexy? Santana tells herself that it's just that she's been horny all day, and Britt turning her down had made her desperate. But, really, she's kidding herself, because Rachel's nails are scratching at the elastic of her sweatpants and kissing a winding path up to Santana's jaw and back down to trace her tongue across the deep red bite mark on her neck.
"Oh…" Her eyelashes flutter when Rachel's teeth find the sensitive spot just above her clavicle, "I… uh… forget?" She can feel the diva's lips curl into a smirk, and she's two seconds from smacking her when the shorter girl bites down hard over her clavicle, and Santana actually sees fucking stars behind her eyelids, and she arches against Rachel's mouth with a strangled whimper.
"Uh huh," Rachel slips her fingers beneath the waistband of Santana's pants, teasing the small bow near the elastic of her panties before snapping the elastic softly. Santana squeaks softly and glares at Rachel who just smirks against Santana's neck. Her fingers drift down, slowly stroking in a teasing spiral over the damp patch between her thighs.
"Shit, Rachel," Santana arches her hips up against the shorter girls fingers, whimpering softly when Rachel pulls her hand out completely, "don't tease me, baby." Rachel merely arches a brow and reaches for the blanket stretched across Santana's lap, pulling it until it covers both of their laps. She leans across the armrest and finds the sensitive spot just above Santana's clavicle, brushing her teeth over the deep red bite mark there. She slides her hand back under the waistband of Santana's pants and scratches her fingernails down the front of her panties.
"Say it?" Rachel's voice is soft near Santana's ear, and the taller girl shivers involuntarily. Rachel's thumb flicks across the damp spot on Santana's panties with just enough pressure to send a shock of pleasure over Santana's body.
"God, fuck, Ber- Rachel, please…" she whines softly and strains towards the shorter girl's thumb which is ghosting just close enough to be torture.
"Mmm?" Rachel arches a brow in perfect mimicry of Quinn, something that Santana will have to compliment her on later.
"Rachel… I… I need you, okay? I need you now."
"Oh!" Rachel gasps and bites her bottom lip, squeezing her knees together tightly in response to Santana's husky tone.
"Baby," Santana whimpers as she feels Rachel's fingers slide past the lacy elastic of her panties.
"Shit," Rachel murmurs, blushing despite herself, and moves her hand down, swiping her fingers quickly over Santana's pussy just to feel how wet she is, "oh fuck." Santana can't help her nervous chuckle, partially because Rachel Berry is about two inches from actually fucking her on a bus, but also because the miniature diva is swearing in a blatantly unabashed way. Rachel grunts softly and dips her thumb down across Santana's clit, turning the taller girl's laugh into a strangled moan.
"Shh, San, you don't want anyone to come back here and ruin this…" Rachel whispers in Santana's ear before pulling her earlobe between her teeth and sucking softly. The ex-cheerleader bites her lip and nods, opting to lift her hips against Rachel's fingers pleadingly. She feels the diva smile, but Rachel says nothing and slides two fingers into Santana while dragging her thumb in a slow circle around her clit.
Santana struggles to keep quiet, biting her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, and arches against Rachel with merely a hiss. She barely has time to adjust before Rachel curls her fingers up and drags her fingers back across her g-spot. "Oh my god," Santana grips the armrest and tilts her head back, giving Rachel better access to the length of her neck. Rachel bites down her neck, leaving marks that will bruise later and need to be explained away. Santana doesn't even fucking care, because Rachel twists her fingers with each slow thrust and strokes across the Latina's g-spot.
Rachel takes it slow, her thumb slowly stroking around Santana's clit in time with her thrusts, but even at that torturous speed, Santana can feel the familiar coil tightening low in her stomach.
"Faster," Santana pants quietly, twisting her hips against Rachel's hand with a soft frustrated grunt.
"Like this?" Rachel pumps her hand faster at a pace where Santana can say Rachel is actually fucking her.
"Oh fuck. Exactly," Santana tilts her head back further and tries to focus on not tipping over the edge because she's way too close too soon. But it's there, the tight coiling in her stomach, the blazing heat creeping out from her centre. She purses her lips tight, willing herself to keep quiet because she could probably scream if they were anywhere but the back of a charter bus full of the Glee club.
And then Rachel does that thing with her fingers, twisting them at just the right angle so they're curled up firmly against Santana's g-spot, and brings her thumb down over her clit so quickly that Santana can't stop the strangled cry that slips out of her mouth as she goes rigid and the coil of heat explodes out over every inch of her body.
Rachel makes this soft surprised noise when Santana's muscles clamp around her fingers, and somewhere in the back of the ex-cheerleader's mind she makes a note to get that noise out of Rachel again, but by different means. Rachel leans in to gently kiss along the column of the taller girl's throat while stroking her thumb over her clit, drawing out her orgasm until Santana goes limp and releases her vice-like grip on the armrest.
"Jesus Berry." Santana manages to get out after a beat. She turns her head slowly to make eye contact with Rachel, whose cheeks are obviously flushed, even in the dim light from the streetlamps outside. The shorter brunette grins sheepishly and slowly extracts her hand from Santana's pants. Before Rachel has a chance to wipe her hand off, Santana grabs her wrist and brings her fingers to her lips, slowly cleaning them off as she keeps her eyes locked with the diva's.
"Oh…" Rachel swallows and watches wordlessly, the feel of Santana's tongue on her fingers making her squirm uncomfortably in her seat.
"Mm. Where did you learn that, Berry?"
"I… uh, well, I figured if it works for me…"
"Damn." Santana uses the blanket on her lap to finish cleaning Rachel's hand, "well…"
"Look, how about we not discuss the implications of what this might mean and instead …"
"You should come home with me tonight. My car is still at McKinley, and my bedroom is in the basement." Santana turns to face Rachel fully, an indiscernible look in her eyes.
"Wait, what?"
"I'm not about to leave you with just the satisfaction of having gotten me off that fast." Santana's eyes flicker to the hem of Rachel's ridiculous pleated skirt which has hiked up to expose most of Rachel's thigh, "and I really want to get you out of that teddy bear sweater."
"I…" Rachel guppies for a moment, nervously smoothing the hem of her skirt back down to just-above-the-knee, "okay."
"Great, now I-"
"I'll just go get my blanket and text my dads."
"Huh? Whatever." Santana settles back into her seat, trying to ignore the thrum of excitement building in her chest. Rachel is back before she gets a chance to fix her blanket and is settling in next to Santana with her blanket and cell phone. "Rachel?"
"Yes, Santana?" The shorter girl barely looks up from her cell phone.
"That is the ugliest fucking blanket I have ever seen." Rachel shoots her a glare, and Santana laughs, shrugging, "just keeping' it real, Berry."