Take from Tumblr post: I swear these were totes on time during actual Pezberry Week.
((A/N- I had no idea what I was gonna do for this until about two hours ago when I was trying to nap. Not sure if this really works, but it's what I got. And as a rule, I try really hard not to play on the double-standard of "it's okay as long as it's a girl doing it". Groping and physical touches made without permission is never okay, gender or sex aside. And in my personal headcanon Santana pretty much thinks she's superior to men in every way possible when it comes to other women. That means that she doesn't need to cop a feel or find an excuse to touch them. She just has to smile and wink and woman want her touching them all over. Anyway! Unbeta'ed. Also, I know nothing about figure skating or the Olympic partner rules, but whatever, right?))
Rachel had been preparing for this competition since the day she had put on her first pair of skates, as far as she was concerned. Nailing this would mean a shot at the Olympics; a real, honest-to-goodness shot at the highest honor in the world of athletics. She was determined to make it, and with her partner Jesse, there was no way they would lose.
That was the plan, at least, until two weeks into practice with only two months till the big show, Jesse broke his ankle was absolutely out. It was like all her dreams were crashing down around her and there was nothing the young skating prodigy could do but sit at the practice rink and try to fight back the tears. Her coaches had promised her they'd find her a new partner, but she knew that it was too late. Her one and only real shot at the Gold wasgone.
She was so busy holding back tears and getting lost in her own little world of self-loathing that she didn't notice someone else coming onto the ice and skating up to her until they were right in front of her, dark red skates contrasting sharply against the clear ice under the blades. Rachel looked up, ready to inform the mystery person that this rink was private, when she was interrupted by said person speaking.
"You Rachel Berry?" asked the woman. Her arms were crossed, her posture as bored as possible with one hip jutting out, and an eyebrow raised as a confident smirk played on her red, lush lips. Tanned skin, ebony hair pulled back into a perfect pony-tail, loose, black practice slacks and a white tank-top completed the woman's look, and it took Rachel a moment to comprehend the fact that woman's lips weren't moving for her own viewing pleasure.
"What? Oh, um, yes. Yes I am." She stood up quickly, immediately noting the good three to four inch difference in their height. "May I ask why you wish to know? This rink is closed for private use only, you realize." The woman just chuckled.
"Santana Lopez. I'm your knew figure skating partner."
The petite skater blinked, looked the woman up and down again, and then scrunched her brows together in confusion. "Um… You're-"
"Hot? Yes, I'm aware, but thank you," cut in Santana before Rachel could finish her sentence. The other girl frowned, huffing.
"I was going to say female, actually."
The taller skater just grinned, pushing her chest out and up with her crossed arms. "Um, duh. I thought these made that pretty obvious."
Rachel felt her mouth go dry for a moment, but she swallowed the growing lump in her throat quickly and ignored the flush she could feel heating up her cheeks as she redirected her eyes to meet Santana's darker brown ones. "Y-yes, I would say so. But that doesn't- I- What I mean to say is, well, you can't be my partner. Because you're, very obviously, female."
Santana rolled her eyes, then shifted a little and skated forward, spinning a little and turning around Rachel so that she was behind the girl, mouth next to the smaller woman's ear. "And why, Miss Berry, is that an issue?"
Her back going rigid for a moment, the skater quickly moved away from the other woman and spun around on her skates smoothly. "I'm quite sure there are some kind of rules or regulations about partner gender and-"
"Nope," interrupted Santana once more as she skated closer to Rachel. "As long as both partners are fit and able gender, or sex, is not specifically stated in neither the current competition rules nor the Olympic handbook." The woman was grinning now as she moved in on Rachel, who was skating backwards to keep her distance.
"Well, there you have it. Physically able. There's no way you could do any of the advanced lifts and holds necessary to guarantee us a win. That's why men are always the counterparts." Just then her skates hit a small chink in the ice, that should not have been there, and she was falling backwards. She was about to balance herself out when suddenly a steady arm was around her waist and a firm hand under her lifted knee. She blinked, opening her eyes fully, to see Santana's eyes inches from hers as the taller woman leaned over her slightly, holding her perfectly steady and, seemingly, without any strain.
The tanned woman smirked toothily, a thin eyebrow raising cockily. "What was that you were say about not being 'physically fit'?" She helped Rachel straighten up, lowering her leg and making sure the woman had her balance once more, but didn't put any extra distance between them.
Rachel's face was, once again, red, and her heart was pounding in her chest. She chalked it up to nothing more that the after effects of the adrenaline rush gained from nearly falling. "J-just because you can catch me whilst falling does not equal being able to lift and carry me for any substantial amount of time, Santana." The other woman just laughed, and rolled her shoulders before cracking her neck.
"Alright then, Rachie. Let's practice, shall we?"
Jaw tightening and her need to always be right flaring up, Rachel nodded. "Yes. Let's."
—-
A week went by, and Rachel had to concede that Santana could definitely liftand carry her. Spins, twists, flying catches, extending, twirling lifts- everything Rachel needed to practice, everything she challenged the taller skater with, was met with perfectly composed poise and skill and steady strength. The first time she had actually bothered to look at Santana's arms she and toned abs as they constricted and extending in their use she had felt a sudden rush of hot, hot heat go straight through her stomach and into her groin, and had needed to take a five minute break to cool down.
If Santana noticed the affect she had on Rachel, she didn't show it. Her hands never traveled beyond where it was necessary, her grip was never anything except professional, and no matter how sexual their… positions appeared the woman never made a comment about it. It was… refreshing, actually. Rachel was a little ashamed to admit to herself that she had fully expected Santana to being making lewd commentary and copping a feel any chance she got, judging by how their first conversation had seemed to be going, but was pleasantly surprised (again) to be proven wrong. Santana was a professional athlete and acted like such, and it made Rachel feel safe and secure in her hands and against her body.
Not that… well… Not that Rachel's thoughts were always particularly professional…
She would go home late at night after long hours of practice sore and exhausted and fall into bed imaging- dreaming – about strong, slim fingers holding her thighs, with dark (nearly black) eyes staring down at her, and that cocky, self-assured smirk playing on full red lips and-
The release she got every time her hand found its way between her legs at the thought of Santana was probably the best she had gotten in ages, and she could only imagine and continue to dream how good it would feel to have the real thing touching her.
And then she would go to practice, bury all those inappropriate thoughts and feelings, and once again be Rachel Barbra Berry, skating extordinare.
—
It was two days till the big competition when everything changed.
They had become comfortable around each other by now, and even went so far as to openly flirt and hang out together after practice.
Santana's touches, outside of practicing routines, had become a bit more… daring, and every time Rachel somehow showed that she was comfortable with where the woman's hands were, they'd eventually explore further. She knew the taller woman was testing her; making sure everything she did and where they went was okay, but honestly, sometimes Rachel really just wanted the dark-skinned woman to push her up against the wall of the rink and-
Her face was getting red again. She needed to stop thinking about these things outside of the privacy of own bedroom.
Practice had ended for the evening and Rachel was just grabbing her water bottle from the bench on the other side of the wall when she felt a warm, firm body and soft, equally firm breasts push up against her back as slim, toned arms barricaded her in against the wall. She froze as she felt hot air against her ear.
"You know, Rachie, you've been getting pretty… flushed lately…" whispered Santana huskily. Rachel swallowed thickly, the hand on her water bottle clenching tightly.
"I don't know what you mean, Santana." She was honestly amazed how even her voice sounded, considering her breathing seemed positively erratic. She was pressed tighter against the wall, feeling strong thighs on either side of her own toned legs.
"You sure? Cause I mean, I wouldn't want you coming down with something this close to the tournament." Santana moved one hand away from its perch on the edge of the wall and to Rachel's leg, trailing it from the petite skater's lower thigh until it hit the edge of her uniform skirt, then gliding perfectly manicured nails back down across the nerves.
Rachel shuddered, arching back against Santana and biting back a moan. It was ridiculous how little Santana was doing and yet she could already feel herself becoming wet…
"I- I assure y-ou that I am perf- perfectly healthy and at the top of my game," was her hoarse, thick reply. She could feel the woman behind her lean in, lips smiling against her neck.
"I dunno… You just seem so… tense…" The hand on Rachel's thigh slowly conformed to grip the leg, flexing a little as she needed the muscles slowly. "Maybe I should come over tonight, you know? Help you stretch out andloosen up."
Rachel whimpered, a "Yes please" on the tip of her tongue when Santana's hand moved just a little too far and high into the inside of her thigh and she suddenly became very, very aware of their position and location. Using every ounce of will-power she had left, she pushed against Santana and spun around, ducking under the woman's raised arm and taking a few, long strides across the ice to give herself some room to breathe and think clearly. Santana stayed where she was, surprisingly, and allowed the woman to cool down.
Once she was sure she knew what she wanted to do, Rachel turned around, a coy smile on her face and a hopeful twinkle in her eye. "I'm afraid I've already got plans, actually."
Santana took a few, easy strides towards Rachel, and the petite brunette began lazily skating backwards, Santana following her. "Is that so?"
"Yes," she nodded. "See, I was hoping to take this gorgeous figure skater I met a few weeks ago out to dinner tonight. I'm really hoping she says yes, and I want to keep my schedule free just in case."
Santana was smirking now, and Rachel had slowed her skating, allowing the other woman to come within arms-reach, where she stopped. "Oh? That's funny, I was hoping to have this pretty little figure skater's sexy legs wrapped around my head tonight. I just met her a few weeks ago, but Ireally hope she'll say yes."
Rachel flushed, stopping her movements entirely and looking down, a shy grin on her face. Santana moved in closer, one arm wrapping around her 'partner', and her other hand coming up to the smaller woman's chin, turning it up so that they were making eye contact. She offered her own, coy smile, and Rachel leaned into her a bit, trusting Santana to be able to support her easily, which she did.
"I have a three date rule, I'm afraid…" The smile was still there though, and just as shy and sexy.
Laughing a little before leaning in to peck Rachel on the nose, Santana shrugged. "I'll take you on as many dates as you want, Rachie," she whispered huskily. "And give just as many, if not more, orgasms. Promise."
The two left the rink hand in hand, and, three dates and a 1st place win later, all of Rachel's dreams started coming true, and the real Santana, she decided, was so, so much better with her hands than she ever, ever had imagined.
.