This is for the Herp to my Derp, Ida. I love you, elskling. Happy birthday.
Rachel Berry was frustrated.
She was frustrated that people judged and taunted Quinn for being openly gay.
She was frustrated that no-one could see how fantastic and amazing her beautiful, blonde best friend was, how she lit up the room when she smiled, how the world was a better place, because where Quinn is, everything is better.
She was frustrated Quinn couldn't see this either.
But first and foremost, she was frustrated that lately Quinn had been making Rachel question herself.
Long story short, Rachel had always known Finn was no good for her. She knew that despite her not really loving him she hadn't been able to make herself let go. She was supposed to become a famous and beloved actress, and she would have her golden, American boy-toy boyfriend by her side. She hadn't admitted to herself that the only reason she hadn't let him go was because she was scared. She didn't want to lose the dream. So she stayed with him. Until the letter from NYADA came. "We regret to inform you that you have not been accepted to the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts." Everything around her had shattered, and the only reason Rachel hadn't as well was Quinn. Quinn was Rachel's solid rock, as she had been since freshman year. Quinn was the one to help her through it. Not Finn. So she dumped him.
Luckily, there are other universities in America with great theatre programs. For example, Connecticut. Rachel refused to acknowledge the fact that Quinn going to Yale had anything to do with her going to University of Connecticut. It was a good school, she told people. Nobody argued, but her dads had shared knowing looks when Rachel had told them. And sharing an apartment with Quinn was also "convenient" and so no one gave it a second thought.
Except, living so close with somebody makes it hard not to know them almost completely, all their little quirks and weird habits, the good things and the bad. And Rachel had come to the conclusion that the more you know Quinn Fabray, the more you love her. The more you lie with her in your arms, the more you want to touch her. The more you stare at her lips, the more you want to kiss her until she is gasping for air. The more you watch her wear beautiful dresses, the more you want to see her naked.
Except, you don't. Because you're straight. Obviously. Rachel had been telling herself for months at this point. But she couldn't help herself, and that was what was frustrating her. She couldn't help herself from brushing her lips over Quinn's shoulder, couldn't help watching her with soft eyes from across the room as she played the piano, she couldn't help it, dammit.
She tried reasoning with herself. She tried telling herself that it was simply because she was lonely, because there were no men right now, no one to convince her that she liked dick. Sex with men. And dicks.
But when she let herself consider it, think about it, doing… those kinds of things with Finn hadn't felt right. She had done it because…because that's what teenagers do, so she had always thought that was what she wanted. But the memories of it were never exciting. They never made her tingle all the way down to her very core; they didn't leave her shaking and moist between her legs. Watching Quinn get out of the shower, on the other hand, did.
For the last couple of months, everything had felt different. Rachel felt as if her insides were constantly squirming, and she had no idea who she was anymore. "You're only straight till you're not," Quinn used to joke. Rachel used to smile and laugh along, but lately, it had been difficult. Mostly because she was beginning to feel that maybe her beautiful roommate was more right than she probably thought.
"Morning," Quinn yawned one morning as she entered the kitchen. Rachel was seated at the small table, nursing her cup of coffee. She looked up from the dark liquid to meet the other's eyes and smile. She knew that Quinn could see it didn't reach her eyes, but none of them mentioned it. For the last couple of weeks, they had found themselves unable to talk about things other than the weather, or school. A barrier in their relationship had been erected, and neither of them were sure why. Neither of them knew how to break it.
Quinn never drank coffee, but as always, she sat down in front of her roommate, took the other's mug and took a deep breath through the nose, enjoying the smell.
Rachel watched her slim fingers wrap around the cup, watched her long, thick eyelashes fan over her cheeks as she closed her eyes, writhed as Quinn let out a long, contented "hmmmm."
"I hate the taste of this, but the smell is divine," Quinn mumbled as she set the cup back down, her voice slightly hoarse from sleep. Rachel was staring at her when she looked up.
"What?" Quinn inquired, turning in her seat to see what had the brunette gaping. Rachel had to shake herself to get out of her trance.
"What? Nothing. What do you mean, what? Nothing. I, uhm, I zoned out," she stuttered, leaving Quinn looking even more suspicious than before. For a second or two, the kitchen was silent, Quinn scrutinizing Rachel and Rachel looking everywhere but at her friend.
"Okay," the blonde agreed in the end, getting up to go through the cabinets, looking for breakfast of some kind. Rachel squirmed in her seat when she realized Quinn had slept without her shorts this night, leaving her in only Rachel's oversized t-shirt and panties. Black panties. Black lace panties, to be precise. Black lace panties that left the blonde beauty's ass looking round, well-shaped and firm. Rachel gasped and stood suddenly, almost knocking the chair over in her wake.
"I… I have to go. To school," she almost yelled, fleeing the kitchen as fast as she could without looking like a madwoman. Before five minutes had passed, Rachel had dressed, packed her bag and left for campus. It wasn't before she reached the train station that she came to, realizing she had yet an hour and a half before her train left. She cursed, startling an older couple, and found a small café to drink a cup of coffee, trying to shake the images of moans of appreciation, a soft yet perfectly firm butt and beautiful blueish green eyes.
Saturday nights were the best. Neither of them was busy and it was their "date-night" as Quinn lovingly called it. They would eat greasy food, watch corny, romantic comedies and sleep intertwined on the same bed, talking about everything and nothing, sharing secrets they would never have shared with anyone else and letting fingers twine in the other's hair. They were the best nights, but the last few weeks, Rachel had felt a strange pull in her abdomen, a slow, burning ache in her hips. She had to control herself now, as to not do anything she would regret later.
It was a night like this when Quinn mentioned the… problem. Rachel was spooning her and Quinn was running her fingers softly up and down the other's arm, both of them enjoying the calm. Rachel was humming softly when Quinn spoke up.
"Rachel? Has there been something wrong these past weeks?" she asked. The brunette tensed up behind her.
"What do you mean?" she inquired, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. She felt Quinn shrug against her.
"I don't know, you've just seemed… off. Like, maybe, I did something?" she continued, and Rachel's heart ached at the vulnerability of it, so unlike Quinn.
"No, honey, no. No, it's nothing like that. I've been… struggling with some things. My head's been a mess," Rachel explained, hugging the soft figure closer to her body. Quinn snuggled into the embrace.
"Would you like to talk about it?" she asked softly.
Now, something inside Rachel screamed. Tell her now, maybe she can help you sort it out.
"I… I can't," Rachel answered, pained. Quinn stiffened slightly in her arms. They were silent until the green eyed girl spoke up again.
"Okay. Just… Just don't leave me. You're my best friend. I have no one else," she whispered. They lived in the same apartment and would never be apart for long and besides that, Quinn had other friends, but Rachel knew what she meant. Don't hide from me. Everyone else I loved turned from me.
Rachel's eyes filled with tears. She was really trying, she was. But nothing was easy at this point. She buried her face in the other's soft hair. It smelled like lavender and honey and Quinn.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered.
So many things went through Rachel's head these days.
I'm not gay. I'm just lonely. And needy.
Maybe I'm just into her, particularly. "Gay for Fabray." Oh god no, so cliché.
Maybe I'm bi. I could be bi. I've always been open about things like this.
Perhaps you're just gay.
Does it matter?
She didn't know. Lately she had no idea whether or not she was just imagining her need for the other girl, or if she truly and irrevocably wanted her. She had tried to come clear with herself. Had gone to bed early one night, turned off the lights and crawled under the covers. She had listened to the soft jazz playing from Quinn's room. And because she desperately needed to know, she had pulled her underwear off, letting her finger slide over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She had imagined Quinn lying next to her, watching her with her lower lip worried between her teeth and her pupils blown wide. As Rachel pressed two fingers to her clit, her whole body had jerked with pleasure and she had freaked out, finding her underwear as fast as she could. The rest of that night was spent watching splatter films, and she hadn't slept before dawn, leaving her bleary-eyed and unfocused the entire next day.
But if there was one thing she knew from being interested in the human mind and psyche, it was that the subconscious does not allow you to suppress anything for long.
It will come back to you. As tears you don't know why you're crying. Or sorrow you're not sure why you're feeling.
Or as dreams you shouldn't be having.
Rachel woke up with a start, sitting up straight in her bed, panting and with her t-shirt sticking to her chest. She was so wet and not only from sweat. Her nipples were tingling and blood was pumping through her abdomen and between her legs. There was nothing else on her mind but Quinn, Quinn, Quinn, naked, soft and writhing under her as she touched, took, tasted. Watched the other woman fall apart, all because of Rachel, because of her fingertips and tongue. A dark flash of arousal shot through her at the clear picture of the other girl's naked body in her head, and without thinking twice, she tore her shirt off over her head and peeled off her panties faster than she ever had before. Without preamble, she turned to her stomach, rose to her knees slightly and pressed two fingers into herself. She couldn't hold back the moan that rippled through her, arching her back and pressing down on the intrusion. Her wet heat surrounded her fingers, and she worked herself towards her climax, imagining without shame that the soaking pussy she was pleasuring was the girl's sleeping in the room next to hers. Two fingers of her other hand quickly found a sweat-slick nipple and another moan tore through her. She gave up on being quiet after that, teasing her nipple and riding the fingers inside her hard, her face pressed into her pillow. She aimed for the sweet spot inside of herself, and in faster than she thought possible she was nearing her orgasm. She imagined pushing herself in between Quinn's legs, pinning her hips down and thrusting her tongue into her to taste the sweet juices making the other's lips glisten. This was the last thing to push her over the edge, the pain-pleasure crashing into her, making her shake and her body stutter.
"Quinn, fuck," she cursed, pushing hard against her fingers for the last time before she stilled and slumped down on the bed.
The next day, she couldn't get herself to look Quinn in the eyes. Every time she did, memories of imagining the same eyes staring down at her as Rachel licked and tasted her, watching her face as she pressed her fingers into her. For several weeks Rachel couldn't meet the beautiful, calculating eyes of her best friend. It was like a gateway had opened up inside her, and now there was no way to stop the flood of pictures taking over her mind several times a day. And every night. It was the same time and time again. She woke up, sweaty and needy and had to get herself off fast and relentlessly. She felt exhausted with the feelings coursing through her body, exhausted with the thoughts going through her mind. She felt stuck and uncertain, lost. She wasn't sure what she was holding on to anymore, what she was trying to tell herself. She needed someone to talk to, and it couldn't be her dads. She couldn't ask them about this, couldn't face them. So one day she skipped classes and took the two hour train ride to New York City.
She threw herself into his arms when as soon as Kurt opened his door. He was fabulously dressed, as always, and she had missed him more than she cared to admit. He laughed, thrilled and excitedly.
"Rachel! Oh my god, I missed you so much," he said, hugging her close. She didn't say anything, just held on tight and inhaled through her nose. He smelled like he always had, though he was slightly taller and broader than when they lived in Ohio. It felt like forever ago.
"Is Blaine home?" she asked as she let go of her friend. Kurt smiled down at her.
"No, he's rehearsing, but he should get here before you leave. Come, let's go get some coffee."
Walking through the streets of New York City had Rachel aching slightly with broken dreams. But she didn't regret going to Connecticut. Quinn was in Connecticut.
"So," Kurt broke the silence as they sat on a bench in Central Park. "What is making the ever fabulous Rachel Berry look like something from a zombie-movie from the eighties?" he asked, his tone gentle. Rachel couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips.
"I'm… I needed to talk to you. About my… sexuality?" the last word came out as a question, her doubt etched into her voice. He turned on the bench to face her.
"Yeah? What's wrong?"
As they talked, Rachel felt her heart get lighter. It was nice to get her thoughts out in the air, and Kurt listened attentively, not once interrupting her. When she felt as if she'd talked herself dry - had told him about all of her doubts, about how she had no idea if she was gay, if it was too late in life to become gay - if that was even possible, about the mixed signals her body kept sending her, if her need for Quinn was more than just a person needing her friend - he was silent. He looked at her for a long time and she began squirming in her seat.
"Rachel…" he said at last. "I've been gay ever since I could remember and I've been completely certain ever since I became aware of it. I don't know how it feels to doubt it." He stopped talking and looked at a couple sitting on a bench a little further down the park, wrapped up in each other to avoid the winter's cold. She stayed silent, sensing there was more he wanted to say.
"What I do know is that it doesn't matter. Quinn seems to be the one you want. It's written all over your face, you know. I've never seen you look like that," he said, once again watching her. She felt tears spring to her eyes.
"But-"
"Rachel!" he cut her off and she startled.
"Y-yes?" she squeaked.
"Do you love her?" he asked, his features softening.
"I…" she tried, but stopped. Realization hit her like a freight train and the feelings were overwhelming. Tears trickled out of her eyes and down her cheeks.
"Yes," she said, laughing and sobbing a little with relief. "Yes, I love her. So much."
Kurt smiled, wide and encouraging. "Then why are you here right now?" he asked. She got up from the bench with a start.
"You're right! I… I have to go," she said and laughed again. Leaning down, she kissed Kurt on the cheek. "Say hi to Blaine for me, okay?"
She could hear Kurt laughing as she skipped from the park, heading towards the nearest subway station.
All through the train ride home she contemplated how to tell Quinn about her realization. When she'd found a seat, she wrote a text to her friend.
Hi. I'll be home in a little more than two hours. Can you maybe be there? I need to talk to you.
Quinn had answered with a monosyllable word and Rachel assumed she was busy or still in class. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, and she hadn't felt this lighthearted in months. All doubt had been washed away and now all those thoughts seemed silly. Of course she wanted Quinn. She was in love with her.
When she reached her station, she had a whole speech ready in her mind. She steeled herself, no chickening out now. She was going to tell Quinn Fabray that she was in love with her; she would fly or crash to the ground.
But the sight that met her when she entered their shared apartment had her stomach dropping and every thoroughly rehearsed word disappearing. Quinn was standing near the window, her eyes read and puffy from crying. She looked small and fragile, as if the world had caved in on her.
"Quinn, what-"
"Just tell me now," Quinn cut her off, her voice shaking. "I knew something was wrong. You've been avoiding me these last couple of weeks and you won't even look me in the eyes." She took a deep breath and straightened her back. She was Quinn Fabray, after all. "Just say it, whatever it is," she demanded calmly.
"I…" Rachel felt guilt rush through her. She had been a lousy friend, allowing Quinn to believe something was wrong with her, beautiful, strong Quinn. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Quinn's closed her eyes.
"Please, just… tell me. I just want to know what happened between us," she whispered.
Rachel looked at her, at her trembling frame, her silky soft skin, the golden, slightly messy hair, her sea green eyes. Rachel took a deep breath.
"I fell in love with you," she said.
A beat. Then, "What?"
Rachel smiled, a little sadly. "I'm sorry I've been such a lousy friend. I've been so confused, but I'm sure now. I'm in love with you, and I have been for quite a while too."
Quinn's brow furrowed and she shifted from foot to foot. Then she shook her head, looking so confused it was almost amusing.
"You… you can't be. You're straight. You were with Finn. You…" she trailed off.
Rachel sighed. "Yes, I was. But honestly, did I ever seem happy with him?" she asked. Quinn opened her mouth then closed it again. "Oh," was all she could say.
"Yeah. Oh."
Quinn shook her head. "But you can't be in love with me. You like men."
This was the point that had confused Rachel the most. She shook her head. "I don't know, honestly. I think maybe I'm pansexual or something, and fuck, Quinn, does it even matter? I'm in love with you." Rachel emphasized. Quinn closed her eyes, tears falling down her cheeks. The brunette felt a pang of worry.
"No," Quinn whispered.
Rachel's heart fell. "What? I… I don't understand. I mean, I know you're probably not in love with me, but please, just. Give me a chance, I'll prove to you I can be worth it, I'll-"
"Rachel, shut up," Quinn interjected again. Rachel closed her mouth and stared at her friend with wide eyes.
Quinn took a deep breath. "Why do you think I only ever sleep in your t-shirts, you idiot? Why do you think my favorite songs are all by Barbra Streisand, hmm? Why do I love the smell of coffee even though I hate the taste?" she said, not stopping to let Rachel answer.
Slowly, the brunette realized exactly what it was she was hearing. A watery smile grazed her lips. "Quinn," she sobbed and lunged forward. The kiss was desperate and messy, but perfect, so right.
"Quinn, Quinn," she murmured against the other's jaw line, neck, throat. "Yes," Quinn breathed, winding her fingers in the other's hair and tugging slightly. Rachel clawed at her clothes, trying to pull her closer as she kissed and nibbled her skin. "Quinn," she moaned again, this time with more intent.
"Yes?" Quinn panted, breathless and flushed. Rachel pulled her mouth away and looked her in the eyes.
"Can I touch you?" Rachel asked nervously. Quinn searched her face, looking for fear, uncertainty, anything like it.
"Yes, please," she answered at last. Rachel smiled, relieved, and started unbuttoning the blonde's cardigan. As she pushed it off Quinn shoulders, Quinn got a hold of the hem of Rachel's shirt and tugged. Rachel lifted her arms, allowing the other to pull it off. When Rachel pulled the baby blue dress away she gasped, revealing soft skin and small, perfect breasts in a white bra.
"You're so beautiful," she whispered, kissing Quinn's plump lips. Slowly, gently, she pushed against her, coaxing her backwards until they reached the wall. At this point, Quinn's pupils were blown so wide that barely any of her beautiful green irises could be seen and she was panting hard. She sighed contentedly as Rachel snapped the white bra open and pulled it off of her arms.
"You too," she demanded and Rachel smiled.
"Okay," she said, smiling softly as she reached behind herself and loosened the piece of clothing. Then she pressed herself against the naked chest in front of her and both of them moaned.
"Yes," Quinn hissed and Rachel marveled at the softness and silkiness. "Ohmygod," she breathed, suddenly overtaken with need. She pulled back and when Quinn whined softly she took a hold of both of Quinn's wrists, holding them over her head against the wall.
"You need to be naked," she said huskily, and Quinn shivered, nodding.
Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Rachel ran two fingers over Quinn's milky skin, starting at her neck and grazing one her nipples, making her moan with pleasure. When she reached the offending article, she pulled it down over Quinn's backside, watching it fall to the ground, leaving the beauty naked and open for her.
She lifted her head and met Quinn's eyes. The blonde smiled softly, encouraging.
"Don't go further than what you're comfortable with," she said gently. Rachel smiled, first tenderly, but quickly turning wicked.
"You have no idea what I've dreamed about us doing. What I've imagined. If you'll let me have it, I want it all," she said, her voice growing darker towards the end. Quinn shivered again and nodded.
"Yes," she panted. "Yes, I'm yours."
At this, Rachel moaned, letting go of Quinn's wrist to wrap her arms around her possessively and suck on a pink nipple. Quinn bucked against her and tangled both her hands in Rachel's chocolate brown, soft hair.
"Oh god oh god oh god," she rambled. "Yes."
Rachel sucked and nibbled, running her tongue flatly over one bud, making it peak before turning her attention to the other. She was pinning Quinn to the wall with her body, and without really realizing it, two fingers of one hand found their way to the other's already wet sex. They teased and felt as Quinn bucked, moaning and writhing and pleading. As she rolled them against the small bundle of nerves, the blonde almost fell to the ground, had it not been for the strong, small body holding her up.
"Rachel," she moaned. "Please."
Rachel smiled against the other's neck, pausing making a purple mark there. She stilled for a second, making Quinn wriggle against her fingers slightly. Rachel chuckled darkly before thrusting two fingers inside of the other woman. Quinn's eyes and mouth opened in a silent shout and her spine arched, her whole body shuddering. For a second or two, Rachel pressed in and pulled out to find the right spot, and when she hit it, Quinn went rigid again.
"Fuck," she cursed and the word sent sparks of pleasure shooting down her spine. Quinn tried to reach out, to get her own hand in between Rachel's legs. The brunette pushed them away gently.
"No," she said. "This is about you. Just feel me."
She wound her arms around Quinn's body again, guiding her to the bed. Everything from there was apologies and soft sighs, Rachel getting to know Quinn's sweet spots. The brunette pushed a couple of fingers into herself as she sunk down over the beautiful blonde, finally, finally, pressing her tongue to the wet, soft skin between the other's slim legs. She tasted so good - like Quinn, just intensified. Her other hand found its way to the same place as well, helping her tongue make Quinn fall apart. She licked and sucked, making her tongue flat and hard and pressing against Quinn's entire sex, pointing it and pressing it in alongside her fingers just a little, teasing the small bundle of nerves with tiny kitten licks. Quinn bucked against her, suddenly yelling her name and pushing Rachel over the edge. Her orgasm hit her unexpectedly, and she had to stop her administrations to catch her breath. The muscles in her abdomen clenched and unclenched, and her head was fuzzy and felt light. Soon she'd gathered her wits and eagerly went back to pleasuring the body beneath her. She pulled her fingers out of herself and slid them up Quinn's stomach, reaching a nipple. Quinn almost sobbed with desire when she realized the slender fingers wrapping around her breast were wet with Rachel's juices.
"Rachel, oh god."
Rachel hummed against Quinn, causing vibrations to course through her. Rachel's fingers thrust more and more frantically and her tongue got more intent and when she lifted her eyes to catch Quinn's dark ones, Quinn trembled, arched impossibly high and pulled with one hand at the sheets, the other Rachel's hair. She moaned long and hard as she came, slumping back against the bed when the pleasurable cramps had subsided.
Rachel lifted her head and laid it on the blonde's stomach, extracting her fingers and winding her arms around the slender body beneath her. When Quinn came down from her high, she lifted her head and looked down at Rachel, a soft smile on her lips.
"Hi," Rachel whispered.
"Hi," Quinn giggled back. "That was…"
"Yeah," Rachel finished. For a while they lay there, the sweat drying and their bodies cooling. Rachel crawled up Quinn's body and snuggled up behind her, pulling the covers up and over them. Quinn sighed contentedly.
"I feel bad for not giving you anything," she mumbled, already half asleep.
"Shh," Rachel answered softly. "We have so much time," she reminded the pliant woman in her arms. Quinn giggled slightly.
"Yeah, we do."
Rachel was sure Quinn had fallen asleep when the other suddenly spoke up.
"Rachel?" she asked. Rachel hummed in answer.
"I love you," Quinn said.
Rachel smiled and pressed even closer, enjoying the familiar, yet entirely new feeling of lying like this with her best friend. Who was now her lover. Or girlfriend. Or whatever. They could discuss it in the morning.
She pressed her lips to the other's neck.
"I love you too," she whispered. Quinn breathed softly and there was no telling if she had been awake to hear it. But Rachel decided it was okay. She could tell her again tomorrow.