Title: Seven Minutes In Heaven
Author: Guyana Rose
Rating: T
Pairing: Santana Lopez & Rachel Berry
Word Count: 1,049
Summary: What would happen over the years if Santana & Rachel played Seven Minutes In Heaven? A drabble inspired by Purrpickle.
A/N: So, yeah I tried to write a simple answer for this when I saw the post on Tumblr but it just wasn't working out. Shaking my fist at you Purrpickle because this drabble is your fault; guys if it sucks, blame her.
Prompt: Finish the sentence? Rachel & Santana, if locked in a closet for Seven Minutes In Heaven, would "_"
Disclaimer: I own only the story itself. Glee belongs to R.I.B.
Please read & review.
Freshman Year
Rachel doesn't want to be here. This closet is stuffy and hot and she really just doesn't want to be here. The silence is awkward and worst of all; she has to endure it with Santana Lopez. But still, she thinks she should make the best of this situation so she interrupts the awkward silence every few seconds and tries even more awkwardly to say something, anything, to help the time go faster.
Santana is even less thrilled about this situation than Rachel is. She's silently plotting revenge on Quinn right now because she's the one that made the call between Rachel and Tina when the bottle stopped in between them. She stands silent, bracing against the wall with her arms crossed waiting for the time to be up. She rolls her eyes and puts a finger up to say "uh uh" every time Rachel tries to talk. She has no intention of conversing with the Glee Club's resident hobbit.
Sophomore Year
Rachel's a bit more self confident now. She's back in Puck's dank basement closet leaning against the wall opposite Santana, again, with her arms folded and one leg bent at the knee resting against the wall for proper balance, and for showing Santana that she doesn't give a damn either. She silently stares at the ground and waits for the time to be up; she can't believe this is happening again.
Santana notices how short Rachel's skirt is in the dim lighting since Rachel was kind enough to lift and bend her leg. Her eyes start to roam over the exposed skin of Rachel's legs and further up her body as a thought forms in her mind.
When the hell did Manhands start getting hot?
Junior Year
Rachel walks into the closet confused because Brittany winks at her on the way there. She tries to put it to the back of her mind as she takes the same stance she did last year when she was forced to play this stupid game.
Why couldn't it have been Tina or Puck or Mercedes or anyone else? Why can I not get away from her sexy … sexy? When did I start seeing her that way? Rachel thinks.
Santana walks behind Rachel with her eyes glued to the brunette's ass.
She only looks away when Quinn bumps her arm and gives her a look, that rivals RuPaul's and clearly says, don't fuck it up.
She stares at Rachel for a moment when the door closes before reaching up and outing the dim light as she reaches for the smaller girl.
"Santana let go of me," Rachel hisses as she feels Santana's arms close around her waist.
"You, me, this is happening," Santana replies.
"What are…?"
Rachel doesn't get to finish her sentence. Santana's lips crash to hers and for a few moments she can't think. All she can do is feel … the softness of Santana's lips on hers, her hands moving of their own accord through Santana's thick mane pulling the taller girl closer, nimble fingers caressing her hips and back, endless heat engulfing her body. She comes to her senses quickly as Santana's hand moves to caress her ass; and she pushes her away.
Santana's scared; scared that she messed it up. She feels Rachel push her away, but she keeps her eyes closed; she can't open them. She doesn't want to face the rejection. Rachel's always been about forgiveness, but what if she won't forgive the things Santana has done to her over the years. She hears the light click on and feels Rachel walk up to her. Rachel's smaller body presses into hers willing her to open her eyes; but she can't.
"Santana?" Rachel whispers.
"I'm sorry," Santana shakily replies.
She tries to move around Rachel but deceptively strong hands seize her hips and keep her firmly in place. She swallows thickly past the lump in her throat and slowly opens her eyes. She's met with a smile and soft dark brown eyes.
"You could have asked first," Rachel says.
And now Santana's lips are slowly forming into a smile as well.
"May I?"
"Please do."
Senior Year
Santana sits quietly on the floor patiently waiting, and just when she's about to start sulking Rachel is pulling her up and they're locked in the closet; again.
"We gotta stop meeting like this Amor."
"Naw, it'll give us great stories to tell the kids later on."
"Speaking of which, there's something I want to ask you."
Three years ago, Santana would have chopped you up into little pieces and mailed them to your mother had you told her she would be proposing to Rachel Berry in a dank dimly lit basement closet at their graduation party.
But now, seeing the look on her girlfriend's face as she drops to bended knee and holds up the ring cut exactly to Rachel's specifications; she knows there is no place she would rather be.
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes."
"Yes?"
"All you ever had to do was ask."
As she slips the ring onto her fiancé's finger she revises her earlier thought. There is one other place she'd rather be; her bed with Rachel's nails raking down her back and her name falling from Rachel's full lips.
But that'll have to wait; they still have five minutes left.