So none of this is mine, of course. Glee and all it's characters are property of Ryan Murphy and Co. and I will make no money off of this story no matter how awesome any potential readers may find it. Just allow me to wallow for a moment…
Okay, so this is just a one-shot inspired by something I read on tumblr. Its setting is AU, and as such the characters are a little OC, the most notable being Rachel, who is something of a popular play-girl in this universe and is Quinn's best friend.
Please enjoy
Things I Want To Ask Your Boyfriend
Quinn sighed tiredly, not so much from exhaustion as boredom. Puck's after parties were a common thing after every game, no matter if they won or, far more likely, lost. As usual Quinn had decided to attend, as was expected from the Head Cheerleader, and because her boyfriend, Finn, and her friends, Santana and Brittany, were all planning to go. Also as usual, Rachel had decided to come once she heard that Quinn was obligated to go, more to keep the blonde occupied than any desire to show up for her own behalf.
Unfortunately, now that they were all here the group had quickly split off into their usual sub-groups: Rachel, unable to stand Finn's rather lackluster presence for more than a few minutes at a time, had found a pretty girl or two to talk to in a secluded corner of the room not too far off, Quinn was annoyed and exasperated to see; Finn, after spending perhaps a whole 15 minutes after Rachel was gone next to his girlfriend had decided to go find Puck and see what kind of drinks were going around once he ascertained he couldn't talk Quinn into going upstairs with him to make-out or do 'other things;' and Brittany and Santana, though still physically present, had curled up together in the love seat across from Quinn's couch cuddling and whispering in their typical bubble of 'togetherness' that seemed impervious to all external intrusions or mood-breakers. This, of course, had left Quinn both friendless and boyfriendless and vey, very bored on one of Puck's stained couches near the kitchen.
Puck's parties were never Quinn's scene so it wasn't hard to figure why she wasn't having a great time, but usually Rachel at least hung around to talk to her and make jokes and inappropriate comments, once Finn had inevitably lumbered off, to make it bearable. It had taken an unusually short amount of time for Rachel to find other things (girls) to occupy herself with tonight, but then, Quinn supposed, Finn had also been unusually handsy when they had all sat down, and Rachel tended to disappear in a hurry whenever that happened. If Quinn didn't know better, she'd think Rachel was jealous…but Rachel flirted with anything under the sun, and while that often included Quinn, Rachel was well known for going for what she wanted whenever she wanted it no matter what possible obstacles she faced; if she wanted Quinn, the blonde was sure Rachel would have already made a move to get her.
The HBIC did her best to ignore the subtle pulse of something like disappointment in her chest when the thought came to her. She had become gradually more accustomed to shielding herself from those considerations and feelings within the last few months. She had always felt very close to Rachel and they were quite affectionate, uncommonly so as Quinn was generally a very guarded girl, but she'd never really given much thought to her and Rachel as anything more than friends. She had a boyfriend, that was the quarterback and a nice guy (even if he was extremely inattentive, a little pushy, and Quinn didn't find him overly attractive), whose popularity was almost as much as her own (even if Rachel was just as popular as him, as popular as Quinn, really), and she and Rachel were just good friends planning on keeping it that way (even if Quinn wasn't as physically affectionate with anyone else, or that the only friends she had seen as affectionate as them were Brittany and Santana).
"Shit," Quinn cursed softly to herself: this was all that idiot, Rachel's, fault. Quinn hadn't had any of these problems, any of these stupid, inappropriate thoughts, until Rachel had, apparently randomly, decided to up her flirting with Quinn. Instead of being the occasional loaded comment or look, it was now an almost everyday thing. And Rachel's behavior had gone from the near perfect best friend type actions, to something more intimate and tension filled in a way that Quinn couldn't really put her finger on, but couldn't help but notice anyway. Finn had complained of their closeness more than once, citing Rachel's actions as the reason, that she was filling too much of his boyfriend role; this might have been true, but Quinn trusted Rachel to be that close in a way that she didn't trust Finn, so she figured it was just as much her fault as Rachel's he was pissed off, and how the hell could she explain any of that to him?
Speaking of Finn, he had been absent for a good bit while Quinn was lost in her thoughts. The blonde glanced around but didn't spot him, which meant he was probably in the kitchen – there was no way she wouldn't be able to see his head and shoulders over everyone else's if he'd been in the room. In the same visual sweep, she had also noticed that Rachel was no longer in her previous corner.
She didn't see her brunette friend anywhere in the room, and figured she was probably upstairs with her latest conquests (she steadfastly ignored the cold drop in her belly as she thought it), until she spotted the two girls Rachel had been with before still in the corner. So Rachel had either found someone else to have some fun with, or she was in the kitchen with…Finn. The piece of lead in her stomach was promptly forsaken for a sudden onset of inexplicable nervous tension.
As if specifically timed to confirm Quinn's bout of neurosis, the blonde cheerleader just managed to hear Rachel's voice over the generic party sounds coming from the kitchen, not so much raised as growling and intense: "What the hell do you think you were just doing?"
Quinn stood up reflexively, immediately, and started moving for the open doorway. Rachel rarely got angry, but when she was people around her cowered for good reason, and right now she sounded pissed.
Dimly, she noticed Santana and Brittany had emerged from their bubble. So some things can get through to them, she though with wry, distracted amusement. But both of the other cheerleaders were focused not on Quinn's sudden movement, but on the voices coming from inside the kitchen, making Quinn's vague feeling of dread only increase.
"Oh come on, Berry," she heard Finn's voice, sounding exasperated and annoyed and Quinn could picture him rolling his eyes at the shorter girl. "I'm a guy, and I have needs. You should know better than anyone that Quinn's the most uptight prude in the whole school. I've got to take care of it somehow."
"Yeah," Rachel snarled back. "It's called your hand. Also porn vids. It's not going out to find yourself another girl to screw."
Hearing that, Quinn came to an abrupt stop just outside the door's frame. She wanted to hear this, and she knew the instant she walked through the door they would both shut down completely. Brittany and Santana had stood and were now just behind her, the blonde's face covered with trepidation while the sassy brunette looked more pissed off than surprised. Did she know something about this, Quinn wondered idly, or did she just suspect?
"I'm the quarterback, Berry, there aren't many girls not looking to get with me." He apparently ignored Rachel's scoff. "Why should I have to settle for videos when I can get real chicks?"
Brittany and Quinn both peaked from around the door to get a look at what was happening. Santana, never one to lower herself to such subtle ways of being sneaky or nosy, moved to stand on the opposite side of the door frame for a clear view of the action, her arms crossed testily.
Finn was leaning back against the kitchen counter near the six packs, his face snide and superior even as his shoulders and clenched fists showed his defensiveness. There was a pretty dirty blonde girl with a bob cut next to him that looked to be cringing and wanting to be anywhere but there. There was a semi-circle of people around them, watching interestedly. Rachel, on the other hand, had her feet planted shoulder width apart, her fists white-knuckled, and was leaning forward like she was seconds from simply throwing herself on Finn to tear his face off. Her face, previously speaking of nothing but intense fury, was now shifting to something that looked almost like incredulity and pity.
"I don't understand you," she shook her head slowly. "Any of you, at all. Sam, Puck, and now you. Where the hell do any of you get off throwing a girl like Quinn away? You'll never do better than her."
Finn scowled. "She doesn't put out. Sure she's pretty, and she's a cheerleader, but there's lots of pretty cheerleaders in school that'll let you get a lot further than she ever will."
Rachel snorted. "Yeah, and why do you think that is? The person Quinn wants to go that far with is somebody that she can trust. Somebody that wants her and she can rely on. And you wonder why she never let you get anywhere?"
"She can totally trust me!"
Across from them Santana rolled her eyes, Brittany huffed below her, and half the people watching snickered. Finn appeared oblivious to all of this, and Rachel just growled.
"Of course she can," Rachel said, sarcasm so prominent not even Finn could miss it. "So tell me Finn, since you're so good on the subject of Quinn: What's her favourite music to listen to?"
"Well," Finn hesitated. "She listens to older stuff, and, like, jazz and things like that."
"Sometimes," Rachel acknowledged. "But I wasn't talking about when she's happy, Finn. Anyone can listen to any music when they're happy. I meant what kind of songs does she like to listen to when she's sad or angry? What kind of music makes her feel better?"
Finn was silent, his face creased with bemusement.
"Funk, if she's angry," Rachel murmured. "She tends to go for stuff like Sadie, or Sarah Mclachlan when she's sad. Even Brian Adams or Disney songs."
Quinn blinked, and then blushed and tried to avoid Santana's amused eyes across from her or Brittany's quirky grin below her.
"Do you know how often she stays up at night, unable to sleep, because she's too busy thinking about her father and the divorce? And when she is upset about stuff like that, do you talk to her about it on the phone? Or do you make it a point to visit her in person? Do you even talk about stuff like that at all?"
Finn's face was becoming more and more red, whether from embarrassment at being called out like this or anger, it was impossible for Quinn to tell.
"Do you know that the fastest way to calm her down when she's sort of angry at you is to hold her hand and trace her knuckles with your fingers? Or that she practically purrs when you run your fingers through her hair? Do you take the time to enjoy each kiss, or are you constantly looking for more from her?"
Finn stood straighter, his expression becoming angry, obviously about to ask why the hell Rachel knew all of these things about how to touch Quinn when he didn't. Rachel cut him off effortlessly, and this time it was a single question that she asked.
"Do you love her?"
The two stood opposite of each other. Finn had grown progressively more angry and flustered as the confrontation went on, while Rachel seemed to have grown progressively more…not relaxed, exactly, just not angry. And still, Quinn could see that intensity all around her.
"If you want to get far with Quinn, then she needs to know that she can trust you and the best way to get her to believe that is by showing that you love her. Not just being the boyfriend and opening doors for her or taking her to dinner. By being there for her, and talking to her, and actually wanting to really god damn know her! And yes, it can take time, but she's fucking worth it and if you make it you'll never regret a thing."
"Well, I – I can do all of those things for her now," Finn stumbled through. "I didn't know what to do before, Quinn always made it seem like she was made of ice, you know? Like she didn't really feel anything at all. But, we – we can start over now."
Rachel stared at him like he was the stupidest thing she had ever seen. Based on the expressions of everybody watching, Quinn was inclined to think they all agreed with her assessment.
"Dude," the brunette began. "You're so damn dumb you're not even worth getting angry at. You and Quinn aren't going to have a chance to start over anything. After this, she'll never want you again. Its over."
"What Quinn knows won't hurt her," Finn instantly denied. "I'm the quarterback and she's the Head Cheerleader, we're meant to be together."
"You honestly think I won't tell her exactly what happened here," Rachel seemed to find this powerfully amusing. "I'm her best friend for a reason, Dumbass. We tell each other pretty much everything."
"Not – not this. You want to see Quinn happy, right? So you can't tell her any of this or I won't ever get to do any of the stuff you said. You want – want to see that happen right? So you can't say anything – "
Feeling this was her cue, the subject of the discussion decided to stand and step into the room.
"It's a moot point to argue about if she will or won't tell me anything, Finn. I heard everything," Quinn said, her voice perfectly even and unbothered.
"Quinn!" Finn jumped. "I – I can explain!"
"Don't bother," Quinn cut in. She just looked at him for a second, her face blank. "Rachel's right; you're not even worth being angry at. It's over between us. The end."
Reaching out, Quinn took Rachel's hand, entirely ignoring Finn's half-hearted, panicked protests, led the brunette out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. Rachel followed obediently, without question.
As they ascended, Quinn glanced back towards Santana and Brittany. Brittany was grinning with almost inappropriate giddiness, her blue eyes focused on Rachel and Quinn's clasped hands. Santana met Quinn's hazel with her own dark eyes and gave the blonde a significant look, her lips curling into the beginnings of a grin. For the first time, Quinn felt she knew exactly what Santana was hinting at.
Quinn hesitated at the threshold to Puck's bedroom; the place really was disgusting and the smell that was wafting out into the hall was really giving Quinn second thoughts on not just heading back out the hustle of the living room.
Figuring out why Quinn had abruptly stalled, Rachel tugged on Quinn's hand and lead the blonde further down the hall to Abby's room, Puck's little sister who Rachel would babysit sometimes, which was remarkably cleaner.
They let go of each other's hands as they stepped into the room, Quinn moving to stand in the middle and Rachel moving to close the door behind them.
Deciding to suck it up, Rachel spoke first. "I'm sorry you had to hear all that."
Quinn looked up from her shoes, which she'd been staring fixedly at for the last few seconds. "Hmm," she hummed, sounding distracted. "It's fine. Finn and I had a relationship based on appearances. I didn't really like him that much."
It was entirely true, too. Quinn didn't feel the least bit angry with Finn, he had already become completely inconsequential to her. Concerning that whole issue she felt more annoyed that she would have to find a new boyfriend now than anything else (she almost managed to ignore the small voice chirping at the back of her head that Rachel didn't have a girlfriend at the moment; that Rachel was free).
No, Quinn did feel upset, but it had nothing to do with Finn. Rachel's words to Finn, her intensity as she described with perfect accuracy the kind of person Quinn desired above all others, kept going around and around in her head.
Sighing, the blonde leaned back against the bedroom window sill, her mind going still as her mouth moved of its own accord.
"You like me. That way. Don't you?"
Rachel's head shot up, eyes meeting hers, her expression and quick reactions betraying her surprise. Just as quickly her eyes narrowed again, her usual cheerful aloofness now forced, however smoothly. Again, Quinn was reminded of how good an actor her friend really was, but she had known Rachel for years now and could successfully distinguish when the acting began.
"What makes you say so?" Rachel's voice was inquisitive, but steady. A touch too intense to pass as only politely interested.
The blonde retreated nervously as the brunette rose to her feet and advanced on her, backing her further against the windowsill. She felt heat rise up her neck to her cheeks and her heart beating wildly. Honestly she wasn't sure why she'd brought up her suspicions, just that the words had sneaked out against her mind's urgings to stay quiet and pretend ignorance. Some subconscious compulsion had taken over, overriding her better sense; to what end, she wasn't sure she wanted to admit.
"I...it was kind of obvious. At least down there."
"...So you did know about it."
"I was right?! What were you –" She didn't know what she felt about this, but her words and thoughts were cut off as Rachel leaned forward, bracing her arms on either side of Quinn against the sill to cage her in.
"You were testing me, huh? That's kind of mean, Quinn. Did you just want me to say it out loud?" Her words, the teasing tone of her voice, and the wry smile on her face instantly made Quinn's cheeks go scarlet. "I can tell you, but in exchange I want you to answer my question."
"What do you –"
"Why do you get so annoyed with me?"
Quinn's heart stuttered right along with her voice, "I-I don't know. E-even if there is a reason, I don't think I can tell you."
Rachel's face became a little more neutral. "You don't know... Are you sure about that?" She tilted her face a little closer to the blonde's. "You tend to lie in moments like these, when you feel cornered by your emotions...by the people that bring them out in you."
"What the hell do you mean?"
"Why are you blushing so hard right now?"
"I'm not blushing!" She did her best to ignore how the lie made her face heat up even further.
"Am I making you nervous?"
"O-of course not!"
"You don't feel like you're only just bearing the distance between us, too? You don't have to restrain yourself from trying to reach across?"
Those were the words, 'just bearing the distance.' They were the perfect words to fit the way she felt when Rachel leaned up against her locker and she had to stop herself from putting her hand on her arm; when they walked side by side down the halls and the brunette made no move to hold her hand; and when they laid beside each other in Rachel or Quinn's bed, the few scant centimeters between them feeling like entirely too much. She had never felt such a need to be near or touching another person before; she had always been an independent girl, and the intensity of the longing had alarmed her enough that she actively avoided the closeness her body ached for. That was why she sometimes acted so annoyed by Rachel's flirtatious teasing, subtly bridging the gap between them, like her actions were nothing when Quinn felt like they should be everything. Why did these things always seem so much easier for Rachel to do than for Quinn? To be brave and adventurous and confront her feelings and not care what people thought?
Her silence and the shocked expression on her face must have discouraged Rachel, as her dark eyes took on a melancholy edge before she softly patted the top of her blonde head. "Sorry. I went too far."
The darker girl made to turn and walk out of the room, but Quinn's hand shot out to snag her wrist before she could complete the turn. She ducked her head shyly when Rachel's head turned back to face her. "I am. I am just bearing this...whatever it is. I just– Why does it have to be you? I don't get it at all! I thought I was straight and you were just my best friend and that was why we had to always be together. You can be such an annoying pervert and you're constantly teasing and flirting with me; I wasn't supposed to take it seriously or feel affected by it at all!" She steamrolled right over Rachel trying to call her name and calm her down. "It's all your fault, really. I would never have realized what it was I felt for you if you didn't keep dangling the idea of being in a relationship with you in front of me. I wouldn't have tried to figure out the reason why I've always wanted to touch you!"
The mixture of embarrassment, indignation and rage just made her voice continue to rise throughout her rant, but now she began to speak more softly as the embarrassment took over. "You bounce around from being my oblivious best friend, to my strongest most unconditional support system, to flirting with every girl around you, to almost being my unofficial girlfriend. Really, what are you thinking? You make my heart beat fast, and whenever you leave I feel lonely. No one else makes me feel that way, but you always seem so ignorant to it, it made me think there was no way what I feel could be serious." The strain of talking about her feelings, so suddenly and openly, made her feel exhausted. Even if Rachel was currently the cause of her stress, it still felt natural to lean forward and rest her head on her best friend's shoulder. "Why do you make me so confused? You idiot, why do you do this to me?"
She felt Rachel shift slightly against her, but made no effort to move away from her. Her continued closeness was rewarded when Rachel's arms came up around her waist, holding her comfortingly.
"Why do I do this to you? Damn it Quinn, why do you do this to me?" The soft spoken words were obviously rhetorical, but made Quinn stiffen with anxiety.
The brunette sighed. "I liked watching your expressions when I would flirt with you, at first to see if you'd be open to the idea, and then just because it made me feel good. The way your eyes would widen when I surprised you, or how you'd blush when I said something you thought was embarrassing, or even the way you'd turn your face away so I wouldn't see your grin when I said something you didn't want to admit was funny. And especially when you'd give me a sudden smile, and my heart would jump like you'd shocked me, even though I'm always hoping to see one. It made me feel close to you. A little like right now..."
Quinn looked up as Rachel trailed off, and her heart jumped – like Rachel had just admitted her own would do – at the unbelievable tenderness and affection in those mahogany eyes, solely focused upon her own hazels. The brunette's right hand left the small of her back to gently cup her right cheek instead. She couldn't stop herself from focusing on the singer's mouth as it drew closer to her own.
Dimly, she heard the jocks outside shouting as they lit off the first of the fireworks for their celebration, and then Rachel's lips ghosted over hers and all that existed was the soft, lush touch of incredibly full lips and the gentle tickling of the electricity between them. She felt herself curve into the warmth of Rachel's body, her own hand coming up to cover the brunette's on her cheek, as the other girl tilted her head slightly and moved to kiss her deeper, more fully.
She breathed through her nose slightly as Rachel's mouth moved smoothly, beautifully against her own in a soft, seeking, wave-like rhythm of give and take. Of tender nips on bottom lips, and gentle strokes of tongue, coming forward and retreating. Abruptly, she understood the term she had seen used in a romance book she had particularly enjoyed – a euphemism the author had once used for an intense make-out session was 'making love' to another's mouth – because something as sensual and divine and absolutely hot as this couldn't be described as anything less.
Had her mind not been so thoroughly blown, she might have been embarrassed at the soft whimper that escaped her throat when Rachel pulled back from her slowly. As it was, she was left standing still as stone, her hand stroking her Rachel's fingers gently in an unconscious gesture of intimacy.
"I'm...kind of in love with you Quinn. I think I always have been, really."
Her throat closed with tears, and Quinn choked a little as she stopped herself from crying by a hair. Damn Rachel for always just...blurting her feelings out there like this. Fear was not a known concept in Rachel's dictionary, but it was unfair how she just kept knocking the blonde's feet out from under her. Shouldn't she get a warning about incoming heartfelt confessions so she could start with stopping the waterworks early?
Her instinctive "You're an idiot," response to Rachel's confession was muffled by her idiot's shoulder when Quinn cuddled up against her again.
It was time for them to go home. Romantic confessions of love weren't exactly ideal at a Puckerman after-game party.
1. Are her lips like the hot chocolate your mother made
During the winter months when you were seven?
Or have you not tasted her well enough to find the fine granules of cocoa that lightly come with each kiss?
2. Do you know her favorite songs?
Not when she is happy, but when she is sad.
What music reaches inside her ribcage and softly consoles her heart?
3. When she is sad, are you on the phone or are you at her door?
Words do not wipe away tears, fingers do.
4. Do you know all the things that keep her up at night?
Do you know why she has gone three days without sleep?
Do you know of the insurmountable waves of sadness that wash over her like a tsunami?
5. Do you know the things to say that will calm her heartbeat? The places to touch? The places to love?
6. Everytime you see her do you kiss her like it's the last time but love her like it's the first?
7. Do you love her?
8. Do you love her?
And that's all folks! How it was at least decent; I felt it was a little rushed. I really wanted to get this scene down, but I also didn't want to get started on a full story I know I probably won't have time to finish right now. For those interested, the quote that inspired this was done by Nished Ahmed, titled "The Things I Want to Ask Your Boyfriend."