A/N: I had quite a few ideas for the caught prompt, I even started writing one of them, but then I remembered I had this, which was originally a chapter for a story I started which was taken down (naughty me). Anyway a little reworking and here we go : -)
Oh and FYI, I had a song in mind for this chapter, 'Make a move on me' by Joey Negro, it's a oldish dance track (I say ish because it's actually only about 7/8 years old but I have enough awareness that I'm also oldish so people probably won't have heard it).
Disclaimer: I don't own anything and I mean no offence.
Make a move on me
Another Glee gathering; and on a Friday night you should be at one of the inevitable and tedious football team house parties, or even at home trying to make peace with what is left of your family but instead you're here, in Santana's house, hiding away in the kitchen, the sound of your Glee teammates singing and dancing filtering down from upstairs. Brittany is in the kitchen with you, a family bag of skittles in front of her as she keeps throwing the candy up in the air and catching it in her mouth, but she has thankfully sensed that you are wanting some space and are a bit lost in your own head right now. You've spent a lot of time in your head recently.
At the last Glee gathering Rachel had reached out, literally, and for a few short minutes as she'd taken your hand and seemingly sung those lines to you, you'd let your walls down that little bit and relaxed. Afterwards everything had snapped back to how it had been, like magnets repelling each other, but then the next moment you can't help but be drawn together, are desperate to be closer, and since those few moments of closeness all you've been able to do is analyse them over and over. Thinking about it all is like some kind of emotional rollercoaster, the feel of Rachel's hand in yours, the ease and fluidity of your movements together. A happy excitement runs through you at the thoughts and then a part of your brain kicks in and comprehends the situation and you feel sick because this was all wrong and not supposed to be how you felt?
Brittany had walked in on one of these internal moments. You're always the last to leave the locker room after Cheerios practice, and it's become like your thinking space, somewhere where you can let your thoughts run wild, and that was how Brittany had found you; sat on one of the benches, elbows on knees, head in your hands, freaking out. You'd heard your name spoken and looking up into the taller blondes worried face it was like everything just broke. Brittany had simply sat beside you, wrapping her arms around you as you'd cried.
Between hiccups for breath and odd sobs you told her everything and she'd just listened, keeping you in a tight hug, occasionally running a calming hand through your hair.
"What am I going to do?"
"You should do what makes you happy Q."
You can't stop the exasperated sigh that comes out as you squeezed your eyes tightly closed, trying to alleviate some of the dry soreness in them.
"It's not that simple Britt-"
"Quinn. I know I'm not as smart as you but just be honest with me and think about all the stuff you've done because you thought it's what you should do or what people expected of you."
Your brain fills with thoughts and images at the other girl's words before you give a small nod for Brittany to continue.
"And how did it all turn out? How much of it made you happy or even made other people happy?"
The thoughts in your head start leaping out at you; how you slept with Puck because you were trying so hard to be so perfect and as a result of that you made yourself weak, how lying to Finn to maintain the façade and spare his feelings at you cheating on him had actually ended up hurting him more, how despite excelling academically, socially and in all aspects of high school life and being a good Christian daughter your parents had disowned you at the first disappointment and opportunity. You sigh heavily as your brain works its way through every little thought and action.
"I can't imagine how exhausting it must be, people don't expect a lot from me, but you let everyone expect as much as they can, and then you had Beth."
Brittany pauses and you sense the anticipation in her as she hugs you that little bit tighter, worried you'll run or lash out.
"When you were pregnant with her you lost like everything Q, and oddly it looked like you were happier, you were just you, and now working to get it all back seems to have just made you sad again."
Silence falls over you both for a minute and you can feel the fresh tears start to make their way down your cheeks.
"I liked pregnant Quinn. I liked seeing my friend happy. I liked eating bacon burgers at 3am. It's all I want and expect from you is to be yourself and be happy."
Brittany's words are like lovingly placed stabs at your heart and slaps across your brain, you can hear the truth and honesty in them, and it just make you cry harder into the other girl's shoulder as she places a kiss to the top of your head.
"I like you helping me with American Lit class as well but if you need to just focus on being happy then that's ok."
You can't help but splutter out a laugh and wrapped your own arms around Brittany's torso, hugging her back.
"I think I can try and do both Britt."
"I think I'm blind!" the exclamation breaks through your musings and thoughts of the past as you come back to the moment, Santana's kitchen, skittles, Brittany and a dramatic Rachel Berry.
"Noah has just done the moonwalk and Mike is trying to teach Finn the caterpillar."
"Finns a caterpillar?" Brittany questions.
"More like a beached whale." Rachel retorts as she walks more fully into the kitchen and you choke for a moment on the skittle you've just put in your mouth as the three of you share a laugh.
Brittany takes up her game from earlier, picking a green skittle out the bag throwing it up and catching it in her mouth. Pulling out a red skittle she turns to you throwing it in your direction and you copy Brittany, catching it with practiced ease in your mouth. Rachel chuckles at your antics as she reaches across the kitchen island you're all stood around to pull the bag of skittles towards her. Her eyes scan the back of the packet as she picks one out, orange, and throws it over the island in Brittanys direction. It's a bit off target but Brittany still catches it and giggles before opening her mouth prompting Rachel to pick another skittle out the bag, red. As Rachel releases it you follow the piece of candy through the air, lunging around the island and jumping onto the taller girls back preventing her from catching the skittle as you snap your own mouth around it, a satisfied smile on your face at your success.
"Quinn!" Rachel chastises.
"Red are my favourite." Is your sheepish response, still being held up by a giggling Brittany, who comes to your defence.
"Quinn always has the red ones but it's ok cos I get all the green ones."
"Eugh, green is just wrong Britt." You joke as she places you back down.
"Oh my god, I love this song!" And with that Brittany is gone from the kitchen. You can't help but let out a little laugh and a roll of your eyes at the random spontaneity and carefree blonde before looking across the island to the brunette at the other end meeting her eyes.
"Maybe Britt will have more luck teaching Finn to dance."
"Brittany is an exceptional dancer but I doubt any amount of talent and patience will teach that boy basic rhythm and movement."
"Rachel Barbara Berry!"
"I'm sorry but I'm the one that has to dance with him all the time and I swear I've never been so bruised in all my life, one day I'll be the one with something broken."
You laugh at the truth of the statement, Finn is really an awful dancer, a comfortable silence and moment falls over the two of you as you reach across the island to pick out a red skittle.
"I can think of other people I'd rather dance with."
And like that your comfortable moment is shattered. You pause keeping your eyes fixed on the skittles bag in front of you, the tone is unmistakably flirty, and you daren't look at the other girl. What if you're wrong? No, that was definitely a flirty tone, but maybe she doesn't mean you. The music from upstairs becomes clearer in the silence and you recognise it as one of Brittany's work out songs, it had come on while you'd been running together in the gym the other week and she'd shared that TMI story. Now was really not the time to be thinking about that, but you're looking for distractions, torn between wanting to press this moment with Rachel but also wanting to run away from it.
You gaze is intent and fixed on the skittles bag, but it feels like the song is goading you, c'mon make a move on me c'mon make a move on me, and you find yourself slowly moving around the edge of the island to Rachels left, damn magnets.
"I thought Finn was your leading man?"
"I can think of people I would be more compatible and inclined towards."
Your pulse is so loud in your ears that you almost don't hear the reply, but you register out the corner of your eye Rachel moving towards the island corner between you. The increasing proximity prompts you to finally look up and she's turned to fully face you, looking intently back at you there's no doubt she's flirting with you as you stare at each other.
"Dance with me?"
The words are out of your mouth before you can think and you're not really sure if you're talking physically or metaphorically, was there a metaphorical meaning to the whole 'dance' thing? But you see your hand reach out and grasp Rachel's forearm closest to you, and pull her towards you so there's no long a counter edge between you.
Rachel's free arm moves and you feel her hand come to rest on your hip. You're face-to-face now but there's still some space between your bodies and your eyes meander down the gap to Rachel's hips as she starts to slowly sway them to the music. You're transfixed by the movement until you feel her hand squeeze your hip and her gently press for you to move with her.
You're still watching her hip movements as you slowly begin to match them and as you find the rhythm you run your hand up Rachel's forearm, bringing your arm to rest lazily over her shoulder. The tension that is rising between the two of you is palpable and it spikes with a quick half turn from Rachel so her back is suddenly, and so nearly, against your front.
Neither of you has missed a beat, hips still swaying together in time, as the gap between you closes a fraction more. Rachel rolls and dips her hips, her ass so close to grinding into you that you close your eyes, biting your bottom lip to hold back a whimper at the near sensation. Wait, you just heard a whimper, fuck that was you, did Rachel hear it?
Rachel loosely clasps the hand you still have draped over her shoulder, while her other hand finds its way to you thigh, just above your knee. Any thought of embarrassment or fleeing leaves you and you feel your own free hand move into action, gripping and squeezing Rachel's hip before sliding around to feel the lightly defined stomach you know is under that shirt. As your hand moves under the fabric you splay it to touch the maximum amount of skin, Rachel gasps lightly and lets her head drop back onto your shoulder. The feel of hot skin and the increasing proximity is intoxicating and you unabashedly bury your nose into dark locks assaulting your senses further with Rachel Berry.
You feel her shoulder press further into you as she relaxes. You're still moving together, but you vaguely register that it seems to be some rhythm and beat of your own making now rather than the bass and beat of the music. The space between you is almost non-existent, a small shuffle or press of your hand and Rachel's back will be flush against you. Resisting that particular temptation you instead give in to the sensory temptation of tasting the bare skin in front of you. With parted lips you follow the curve of her ear, trailing hot breaths down to exposed and bare neck and you allow your tongue to flick out briefly. Rachel's grip on your thigh tightens and she arches her head back into your shoulder further, giving you greater access. You take it, running your lips lightly down the length of the girl's neck.
As you reach the curved point where neck and shoulder meet you feel the temptation to bite down but refrain, instead placing light kisses along the small area of exposed skin. You feel a moan vibrate under your mouth more than hear it and let a self-satisfied smile cross your lips. Moving your mouth back up Rachel's neck to her earlobe, you lightly bite down, relishing the effect you're having upon her as your ears pick up her shallow breaths. But then she closes that remaining distance between you, as she grinds her ass against you, and you feel it throughout your whole body. A second roll pulls a low growl out of you as you bite down on her neck, feeling the need to both anchor yourself in some way but also to express and release the feelings and desire that are running through you.
Her hand is moving up from your thigh, trailing its way quickly up to the back of your head, where her fingers tangle into your hair and hold you in place against her neck. You tighten your arm across her stomach as you begin to suck where you've bitten, knowing there'll be a deep mark there now. You feel lost in all the sensations, the movement of your bodies, the nails on your scalp, the sound of her increasingly erratic pants, the heat and smell of Rachel's skin. You're struggling to recall how you got into this position, how it seemingly happened so fast, but you can't find it in yourself to care right now, every part of you is humming with the desire to immerse yourself more in the girl pressed against you, as she keeps swaying those delicious hips.
"What. the. actual. fuck."
You hear the words spoken, punctuated, as something connects with your head and clatters to the floor, the two of you jumping apart at the intrusion. As you rub the back of your head you register a plastic cup on the floor nearby before looking at Santana stood in the doorway arms folded with that annoying smirk on her face.
"No one fucks in my kitchen but me. Q you're needed upstairs, now." With that she turns and leaves.
You're so disorientated, your head feels hazy and you're not quite sure what's just occurred or going on. You're not sure if you can look at Rachel, which seems stupid given what was happening just a moment ago, but you feel overwhelmed and need a minute to just feel like you're back in reality.
Turning to the island you grip the counter edge, staring intently at it, taking a deep breath as things slowly start to come back into focus. One of Rachel's hands comes into your field of vision and she gently rests it atop yours. The simple touch is relaxing and elating and you're thankful for the contact and gesture, that she's not pressing, and is letting you have your moment.
"Q, NOW!"
You take another deep breath and glance up at Rachel, trying to lighten the moment as you roll your eyes at the Latina's interruption and give Rachel a reassuring little smile. She smiles back and you turn your hand over in hers clasping your hands together, giving it a little squeeze before releasing it and moving to the doorway out of the kitchen towards Santana's bellow.
A/N: Reviews and comments are like dog treats, reward or discipline me . . . that sounds a bit wrong but you get the analogy.