A/N: So this is a new story I'm working on. I hope you enjoy it!
A note on the format: The beginning of each chapter takes place ten years after high school – Rachel's, in essence, telling her story to Kurt. The second part of each chapter is "back then". Just in case anyone gets confused.
The title is from the song Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off, by Panic at the Disco.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
:)
/
"It only happened once."
Rachel is sitting across from him, and her hands are wrung together.
"I mean – just the one time, I swear." It feels like a confession, atonement for her sins – not sins, she tells herself, that wasn't a sin, it's not bad.
Kurt looks at her with ill-disguised confusion, raising his eyebrow. "Why are you telling me this?"
And – well, that's the question that makes her wince. "Because I slept with Quinn once in high school but that doesn't make me the bad guy."
He blinks at her, clearly shocked, and she can only nod.
Just once.
Once was enough, though, enough to tell her everything she needed to know –
/
Rachel is going home.
She has to walk, because her car is broken down, and it looks like rain outside – and she shakes her head, grumbling.
She's just had a bad day, and wants nothing but to curl up with hot chocolate and The Sound of Music.
The sound of sobbing stops her – and she recognizes this sound from too many afternoons in her own car.
She walks toward the sound, and she's almost surprised at what she sees.
It's Quinn, and Rachel bites her lip before knocking, soft, and climbing in – because she can, because for once she doesn't think Quinn will kick her out, because there are things that she can't let herself admit that she might want. She lays a hand on Quinn's arm, almost tender, and swallows back any words she might have wanted to say, because she's pretty sure Quinn just needs someone to be there for her.
Finally, she looks up –and Rachel hates herself for thinking this, but Quinn is absolutely beautiful, even like this (though shouldn't that be especially like this?), her face tearstained, make-up a bit messy.
Rachel smiles. She really is beautiful. She wipes a smear from beneath one of Quinn's eyes. "Hey," and it feels too loud in the car, without Quinn's racking sobs filling the silence.
Outside, it starts to rain, and Rachel thinks that never in her life has there been more of a movie-esque moment.
All that she needs is a kiss from the heartbroken heroine.
But those are dangerous thoughts – and she pushes them to the side.
Quinn blinks, and Rachel watches as she tries to piece herself back together. "Why are you here?" she finally asks, and it's obviously intended to come out sharp – but it's soft, and almost sad, and Quinn's mouth opens and closes a couple of times before she settles for just looking at Rachel.
Rachel shrugs. "Because I was walking and you were crying. And – I heard about the Cheerios, and I didn't get a chance to tell you but –I'm sorry." She's not, really – Quinn's better than them, worth more than them.
Quinn nods, letting out a rush of air. "I'll drive you home," she says, and she sounds wrecked, so Rachel nods, lets her drive.
After a long while, Quinn seems to freeze up, and sits straighter. "It's not a big deal, you know. The Cheerios."
Rachel smiles. "Obviously it is," and this comes out gentle.
Quinn shakes her head, and another long moment passes before she speaks. "Why are you here, though? You could have been – could have told me – you don't have to be nice to me."
Rachel grins, and reaches over, squeezes Quinn's arm again, letting her know she's there. "I know I don't need to. I'm not stupid. But you need a friend and I can be here for you."
"But we're not friends," and it comes out sharp. Quinn's eyes shut. "I'm sorry, I just – we're not."
"And outside of here, we don't need to be," Rachel says, even as she feels her heart break, a little bit. "We don't need to be anything more than we are, but right now you're hurting and I just want to help."
Quinn's face seems to twist, and then she nods. She takes in a shuddering breath, and squeezes her eyes shut. "It wasn't about the Cheerios. I don't give a shit about that."
"Then why were you crying?" and Rachel's whispering without meaning to, leaning in close to Quinn.
She lets out a soft noise, pulls to the side of the road – they're in a somewhat abandoned part of town, and Rachel can barely see where they are – and shakes her head, wiping at her tears.
Rachel catches her wrist – and this is too much, too close, she knows it is, but it's only dangerous on her end – and she won't let this get out of hand. She pulls Quinn's hand away, just a bit, and properly looks at her. "You're not alone," and she feels like she's having an out-of-body experience, and Quinn's just staring at her.
Quinn leans forward and Rachel's grip tightens, just a bit –and then they're kissing, soft, barely more than a press of lips.
Rachel lets out a noise and her grip tightens further, until she realizes what she's doing – what they're doing – and pulls away, shaking her head, leaning back against the door.
Quinn follows, and her hands are on Rachel's waist and her thumbs dig in, a bit, and she's too close to Rachel. "Please," she whispers, and it comes out cracked, broken. "Please," and her thumbs dig in harder, grip tighter, holding on to Rachel.
And this is all that Rachel's wanted for too long, and she nods, leans up to wrap her arms around Quinn's neck, pull her close.
Everything is a bit of a haze after that, punctuated by sharp moments full of clarity – Quinn's mouth on her neck, sucking a dark bruise just below her collarbone, her fingers sliding under Rachel's shirt, touching soft skin, playing a melody with her fingertips.
The rain punctuates their movements, and Rachel can hear it pounding against the window with the time of her heart, her beating heart, and when Quinn slides Rachel's shirt off her shoulders everything snaps into focus because this is it, now, this is the point of no return.
Quinn leans forward, whispers, soft, into Rachel's ear – is this okay?
And Rachel can only nod, because this is more than okay, more than wonderful, and she closes her eyes before opening them wider, staring at Quinn, drinking this moment in because she thinks she might not get another one.
And she's pushing Quinn's shirt off of her shoulders and everything's moving too fast – they should go on a date first, something other than this, but she's wanted this too long to consider stopping.
Quinn lets out a soft sigh when Rachel manages to push the seat back, and crawls on top of her, taking charge now, sucking her own dark bruise, at the top of her shoulder, fingers skimming down Quinn's sides. Her hands slide down further, resting at the top of Quinn's skirt, and she looks up.
Quinn shakes her head, flipping them again, pressing Rachel down, and she pulls Rachel's skirt down, sliding down her body to rest between her legs.
"Do you want this?" she asks, soft, and Rachel nods.
Quinn's fingers are teasing her, then, and Rachel's eyes shut, breathing quickening even at this. She feels fingertips circling there, and she's done this to herself but she's never felt anything like this – and then Quinn's sliding the tip of a finger inside her, just the tip, and Rachel can't help the soft sigh that escapes her.
She shouldn't be this responsive, shouldn't be letting go this much – but she can't help it, not when Quinn fucking Fabray is inside her, shit.
"You like this," Quinn whispers, and her voice is cracked, broken, and Rachel can only nod, eyes shut tight – because that makes it feel less real, more like a fantasy, and she doesn't feel so guilty about having it.
"Please," she whispers, and Quinn slides her finger all the way in – and hits something wonderful, and Rachel lets out a shout, nodding, hand flying to grip at Quinn's other wrist, hold tight. "Please."
Quinn's own breathing quickens, and she fucks Rachel on her fingers, nodding, and bites at Rachel's neck. "Fucking… wanted this so long –" she gets out, and it's every cliché Rachel's ever heard of but it makes her go warm –
And she feels the telltale feeling, and then she's coming, harder than she ever has, letting out soft gasps with each second.
Quinn fucks her through it, until Rachel pushes her away, needing just a moment to calm down. When she opens her eyes, Quinn looks desperate, on edge, and she's fucking herself – and Rachel takes over, pushing her aside, kissing her hard, fucking her quickly.
When Quinn comes, it's quiet, and her eyes press shut, mouth falling open in a gasp.
Rachel has to smile at her, and pushes her hair out of her eyes, kissing her on the forehead – and she shouldn't be doing this but she can blame it on the endorphins, if worst comes to worst.
She hopes but she doesn't expect, and she waits for her answer with each second.
Quinn opens her eyes, and Rachel watches as the light fades, and she shakes her head. "This – I'm sorry."
Rachel shakes her head as well. "I'm not."
"We can't – this can't happen again," and Rachel was expecting it but it feels like a slap in the face.
She nods. "Of course," and keeps her tone neutral – she's an actress, after all. She fixes her clothes, turns to get out of the car, and Quinn stops her with a hand on the arm. She barely turns. "I'll walk home." The rain's all but stopped, now, and her dads will be worrying if she doesn't get home soon. It's only a few blocks.
This was all that she'd wanted since she was a freshman, three years ago, three long years ago, and saw Quinn at the top of the pyramid – and now she's had it, what others might kill for.
She thought it would be enough – but it's not going to happen again and she feels young, stupid, for thinking something else might have happened.
She feels almost cheap, but she holds on to what Quinn looked like just before they kissed – desperate, wanting, and not just in the heat of the moment, as though – as though she'd wanted this for as long as Rachel has.
"Wait."
Rachel turns just slightly. "What?"
Quinn kisses her on the shoulder, soft. "I'm sorry," and it feels honest.
"Don't say that." Rachel smiles. "We don't have to be – be anything when we get out of the car. I said that and I meant it."
Quinn nods, and Rachel feels a bit of her heart shatter at the lack of caring in her tone, in her movements. "And you won't –"
"I won't tell anyone." Rachel smiles, a bit, though she wants to cry.
Quinn nods. "Just so you know – I'm not gay," and she sounds like she's trying to convince someone other than herself. "I just – wanted you."
Rachel hears the past tense and feels another layer of ice on her heart, but she nods, too-quick. "I get it," and she does, because if she were the ex-captain of the Cheerios she wouldn't want to be outed either. "Your secret's safe with me."
"Thank you," and it feels like for so much more, and Rachel doesn't have the words to respond, so she settles for nodding.
Rachel breathes. "And you won't –"
"Are you kidding me?" Quinn looks at her, wide-eyed. "I'm a lot of things, Rachel, but I'm not that kind of person."
"I know." Rachel swallows. "I know you're not," and Quinn's staring at her and Rachel just wants, more than she ever has before.
But she can't have her, not now, not again, and that has to be okay.
"We really can be friends," Quinn says, and she's looking down at her hands in her lap. "I mean – I don't – I don't want this to be – nothing."
Rachel nods. "Anything you want," and it comes out too-soft.
She pauses, and after a long moment with too many things unsaid, leaves.
Quinn lets her.