A/N: So, I was determined to finish the Faberry week prompts, and despite the fact that I already had one half written for the tattoo prompt, my brain insisted on starting anew and this Rachel Berry inner monologue happened and then got seriously stuck part way through, but we've made it in the end :- )

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything and it's all sunshine and rainbows, no offence meant.

Inked and bound

Your face is on fire, actually emanating heat, and you don't think you've ever blushed so hard in your whole life. The fact that you turned off the light before starting the movie is the only thing that is keeping you from getting up from the couch and putting your head in the freezer, and you're hoping that Quinn doesn't suddenly happen to turn and look at you right now because even in the dark with just the light from the TV she will not miss the bright redness that is your face, and it's not that you are uncomfortable per se, well a little, God you hate Santana so much right now. You can hear the double-crossing sugary sweet tone echo in your head 'I've got a great film you guys can watch, it's like a mafia crime thriller, it's got a great plot twist' the fact that Satan spoke a sentence that didn't involve a cuss word, or a threat, or crude double entree should have a been an indication that there was a diabolical scheme at play, and never in your whole life have you ever thought the nickname Satan was so apt.

You'd huff and wriggle around in indignation at the unfairness of it all if you didn't think the sound and movement would raise suspicions. Sex scenes in movies don't bother you, most of the time they're so choreographed and fake, but you're sure Quinn can't be comfortable, which was probably part of Santana's diabolical plan, particularly as the sex scene that has just played out in front of you involves two women. Not that that is a problem either because Rent is in your top five musicals/movies and sapphic inclinations are not something you have discounted but you hadn't quite expected to be so intrigued by certain aspects. Like any normal young woman the notion of a person being somewhat delinquent or 'bad-ass' is, in a way, stimulating and an individual having a tattoo may be considered an indication- oh my God stop babbling because the fact is you've totally gotten turned on by watching Gina Gershon's hot and tattooed body getting fucked and now your face is on fire and you want to kill Santana.

Deep breath, because the problem you are trying to work out now is how on earth you're going to make it through the rest of the film, but then the sound of Quinn clearing her throat cuts through your thoughts and it's like another heatwave hits your face because you suddenly recall that Quinn has a tattoo. You saw it start of senior year and your brain is back in the gutter with what you've just watched, inked designs accentuating feminine curves and toned muscles, the way they shift with sinuous rolling movements and now the visual of Quinn doing body rolls is in your head.

"Rachel are you ok?"

Fuck, shit, damn you've spent too much time around Santana and have lost the ability to formulate suitable exclamations without resorting to low brow cuss words, but your brain is kind of functioning on a very basic level right now, consumed by thoughts of blonde hair and pale skin and a Ryan Seacrest tattoo that tops a pair of perfectly firm butt cheeks, like a cherry on top of a warm soft iced bun. Maybe you should be more freaked out, thinking about your friend this way but you've always been drawn to Quinn, thought and still think she's the prettiest girl you know and Quinn is looking increasingly worried and that would be because she asked you a question and you still haven't answered, idiot.

"Yes-yes, fine, absolutely fine, nothing wrong, everything is o-k."

Part of you wishes that Quinn would just slap you again and put you out of your misery because this is turning into a train wreck, you don't remember feeling this out of sorts since . . . well it's a bit like the whole vitamin D thing but on top of that someone has also given you a massive electric shock. Your brain can't focus and everything seemed heightened and more sensitive, you swear you can feel your body pulsing out heat and Quinn's reflecting it back, and that would probably be because you keep babbling in your head and with a look of concern Quinn has now paused the movie and scooted closer to you on the couch.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes- no- yes, you have a tattoo."

You feel yourself tense in preparation for laughter or a biting remark in response to your outburst, but there's just a look of apprehension and being taken aback, topped off with a quirk of an eyebrow which you just want to reach out and run a finger over. You're fighting down the urge when that arch drops and furrows and you watch a flicker of what you think is sadness cross the other girls face. It looks like she's preparing and steeling herself to say something, as you watch her take a deep breath and her eyes flicker down.

"I did-I do. After the accident there was some scar tissue and it looked . . . I had it removed, but then after that first semester at Yale I got a new one."

"Oh." There's a mixture of feelings within you, there's always a moment of sadness that descends at the mention of the accident, the guilt that you feel for what you perceive as your part hasn't dissipated entirely but time seems to have healed both the physical and mental scars for you both. The overriding feeling right now though is curiosity and the heat that is burning and running around your body.

"Can I see?"

"Which –what?"

Either -both -everything, just take your clothes off, is what you're thinking but that would be possibly inappropriate and- oh ok apparently Quinn is just going to lift her shirt slightly and by Broadway that is a star tattoo. Two stars! The small black outlines are placed one above the other, leading from the top of the other girl's hip. There's a small scar between the two and your fascination wins out as you reach forwards to touch the skin on display, fingers running over the change in texture as you trace up from one star, over rough and smooth white skin, to the next star.

"I hated looking at them, the scars, and I know they'll lighten and maybe disappear in time but I just wanted-, I needed something else there, something to look at that would give me strength."

You're nodding but you're barely listening to the words, your eyes and fingers are feasting, absorbing details because it's all you can focus on right now, it's all electric, and then you see it. A little black corner poking out from under where Quinn's top is bunched up and before you've even really thought about it your hand is sliding higher. Removing the material barrier, pushing it higher, to reveal another little star. Your senses greedily consuming the new addition before your hand continues its journey and reveals more of the tiny celestial shapes. Your fingers cover and trace each one, and it's like a constellation up the blonde's side as you reach the last one.

A hitch in Quinn's breath breaks through your appreciation causing you to realise that the last star is just visible above the top of the other girl's bra and you are in effect cupping Quinn's breast.

"I'm sorry, I-I'm so sorry."

In the process of discovering the blonde's tattoo you've gravitated closer into each other's personal space, to the point that you're practically breathing the same air. As you stumble out apologies you make a move to pull back and put some space between you, maybe remove your hand, but you're surprised by Quinn's quick reactions as she lunges forward and claims your lips with hers.

It's a shock because you were basically just molesting Quinn a moment ago and now she's kissing you, well not so much kissing as her amazingly soft lips are pressed against yours and her lips are moving but yours aren't and you're kind of just sat here like a fool and not really doing anything. Which is stupid, why aren't you doing anything!

It's like Quinn can hear your inner monologue and stunned ramblings because her hand covers yours on her breast and squeezes in encouragement. You both moan at the action, and the sensation and sound kick starts your body into action. The hand on Quinn begins a rhythmic massage and your lips become properly acquainted, sliding together.

A particularly rough squeeze of the other girl's breast makes her break your kiss with a gasp, and you take the opportunity to get a hold of that tempting bottom lip, feeling it's increasing plumpness as you sink your teeth into it. Quinn moans and arches further into you, under your hand you can feel her now hardened nipple and you let your thumb trace over it, outlining the raised peak through the material of her top.

The way she's responding to you is positively intoxicating. You bring the hand that's currently not occupied to Quinn's shoulder and with a gentle pressure guide her to lay back against the arm of the couch. Slipping your tongue past that bottom lip you plunder the other girl's mouth, hungry to consume and sate your senses with the blonde, and as her hand weaves through your hair and nails scratch at your scalp, you roll your hips down against Quinn and bring your bodies even closer together.

It feels like suddenly all kinds of romantic clichés make sense, because you have never felt passion and desire like this before, this urgency, this sudden need. Wanting to just rip Quinn's clothes off, to feel and explore every inch of her skin with your hands, your tongue. To hear her moan and scream your name, to feel her naked body pressed completely against yours, the thoughts are exhilarating and consuming.

Quinn tilts her head back and you seamlessly continue kissing her, working over her jaw and down that elegant neck.

"Bedroom."

You don't really register the word so much as feel the motion and vibration of it in her throat.

"W-what?"

"Bedroom."

"I-I wha-why?"

You understood the word the second time but you're confused because firstly moving to the bedroom requires some kind of separation and right now anything more than a centimetre of space between you is frankly unacceptable, in fact part of you is kind of hoping that your explosive chemistry will just burn the clothes right off your bodies so you can hurry up and get to being naked and making out, but the thought of the naked part is suddenly somewhat intimidating because you have female anatomy so it's not foreign territory but it's still new and-

"Now."

"Wait, I-er, want-"

"Door."

Oh fuck. You hear it now the unmistakable sound of keys in the front door and laughter on the other side and there is no way you are letting your roommates catch you in such a compromising position, so you quickly jump back and smooth out your appearance. Giving Quinn an apologetic smile as she unpauses the movie and fast-forwards through some chapters. You realise that she must have heard Santana and Kurt in the hallway, the pair aren't exactly quiet.

"- don't care Satan, no matter how big an idiot someone is it's not exactly socially acceptable to embarrass them like that, you're lucky you got away with it, I mean the bar staff could have kicked us out or even checked our IDs and let's face it they're passable but they aren't going to withstand any real scrutiny."

"Yeah but it was totally worth it."

"Yes, oh my God the look on his face was priceless."

People are fighting in a pool of white paint on the TV and you have no idea what is going on with this movie anymore so you turn your attention to your laughing roommates as Kurt perches on the arm of the couch and Santana sits next to Quinn, causing the blonde to shuffle closer to you.

"Causing trouble again S?"

"Shut up Fabray, and how are you guys still even watching this film, we've been out for ages?"

You feel yourself starting to heat up and duck your head, picking at some imaginary loose threads on your skirt, as you try and hide your growing blush, the sound of Quinn and Santana's bickering falling into the background. You chance a sideways glance at Kurt but he is immersed in his phone, texting furiously.

"You're an idiot Santana, I don't have to listen to this, come on Rachel."

Quinn grasps your arm and drags you off the couch pulling you towards your bedroom, and you can hear Santana crackling behind you. The blonde slams your door once you are inside and releases a frustrated growl reminiscent of what Finn used to call 'Scary Quinn', you clear your throat before tentatively asking.

"Quinn, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine I'm- . . . I just, it's just me and Santana we have a way of getting under each other's skin a-and . . ."

Her gaze to focused on some random point on the wall to the side and you see her take a few deep breaths, like she's preparing and building herself up for something. Instinctually you step forward and wrap your arms around the other girl in a hug, wanting to give her some reassurance and comfort. It's only when you feel her arms tighten around your shoulders and her exhales tickle against your ear and through your hair that you realise your proximity and become hyper-sensitive to it.

"And I just-, I really hate that she interrupted when she did."

You can't help but tense up at Quinn's words because does that mean that she wanted stuff to happen? And if she did was it just an in the moment type thing or does this mean something? You want this to mean something, and maybe you're being a bit impulsive but when the two of you were kissing it was just-, you've not felt anything like that, and you want it again, you want more.

Quinn's arms squeeze around you and pull you that little bit tighter together. Some of that nervous tension leaves you, and it continues to evaporate as her hand caresses back and forth along your shoulder, and it is a caress, there's an ease and a comfort that the action brings that has you relaxing and burying your head further into the crook of her neck. Neither of you are making a sign or motion to move, and it's like time is just slipping away along with your tension as you just hold and take comfort in the closeness of each other.

"What is this?"

You wish you could slap or face palm yourself right now, and you hate that you can't just continue to be in the moment and not ask but you need to know. You need to know what and where this is going.

"I don't . . . what is this to you?"

You shrug not wanting to commit, as she bounces the question back to you, not wanting to put your heart out there because it's not that you don't trust Quinn, oddly she's the person you can rely on most, regardless of everything that happened in high school you both came through it stronger, whenever you were making a poor decision or giving up Quinn was always there, but it's scary the idea of letting yourself be vulnerable and it's such a risk because you've both worked so hard and you're very aware that you're not saying anything or giving Quinn anything, but actual spoken words are kind of failing you right now so you let your body take the lead and just lift your head a little bit from the crook of her neck, nuzzling at the skin there before placing a light kiss.

Her shoulders relax slightly and then her voice is next to your ear.

"Can I take you for breakfast in the morning? I want-, if we do maybe do this I want to do this in the right way, the right order."

She can't see your smile but it's so big and wide you're convinced she must be able to feel it, as your arms around her waist give a gentle squeeze and you just nod your head against her neck.

A/N2: As much as I personally love smutty one-shots and that was obviously going in that direction when I started this, I always find it difficult to just have them suddenly realise they like each other and fall into bed together, or at least I find it difficult to write that unless there's been a bit of a build up to it. Anyway it's all about the teasing and I have made Faberry week last an extra month! We got there in the end and seeing as that was the last one prompt it is back to my big multi-chapter story now I have purged myself with all these little one-shots. Reviews and comments are wonderful.