Title: The Double Royale: Two Week Notice
Author: J Rease
Rating: M/Obscene
Warnings: Shameless Porn with a shallow backdrop of a deeper, unexplained history in a different universe. Faberry (endgame), Quinntana (flashback rendezvous!) GIRLPEEN.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Quinn's side of the story. Fourth in the series. A continuation of The Double Royale: Origins. Girl!Peen.
Author's Notes: Another bit of something… a bit more plot than porn this time… but that won't keep happening, promise. I'm starting to feel like my writing style is quirky. I seem to confuse verbs and mix tenses… I make things that aren't adjectives… adjectives. I'm nervous that it's hard to follow sometimes, because mechanically, my writing style shouldn't function (there is a question in there somewhere)… Please review.
Two Week Notice
The first time she went down on Santana, she couldn't breathe. She could only hold her breath for seconds at a time before diving back up for a lungful of air. She'd been discouraged, at first, at the frustrating pace she'd set, her nose job suddenly a regret as she tried to breathe and taste Santana simultaneously. She was afraid to do it at first. But she'd been curious, and the salty tang emitting from Santana was deliciously alluring.
She learned so much from Santana. She absorbed everything the girl taught her, and she let Santana's hands guide hers to many an orgasm. Tasting her was a confirmation. When she finally found a suitable way to control her breathing, she tasted the girl beneath her and instantly grew hard.
She figured that her sexuality was fluid. She wouldn't categorize herself because she was born with parts that weren't traditionally either or. She wasn't gay or straight or anything other than Quinn. At the sticky taste of Santana's damp arousal; however, she knew her preference was for women.
The first time she went down on Santana, she didn't know what she was doing. She fumbled to get comfortable and stopped often to ask if she was doing okay. But Santana's hands shifted her into better positions, and certain strokes made Santana blow air out of her cheeks and squeeze her thighs around her ears. By the time Santana climaxed, her nails were digging into the back of her skull, and she was screaming for her to hum to push her over the edge.
Needless to say she was very proud when Santana came down from her orgasm, and she was dying to slip inside of her immediately after. They rarely talked during. But she got to know Santana in so many nonverbal ways. They communicated through guttural grunts and involuntary movements; bucking hips and loud intakes of breath... murmuring nonsense and shuddering encouragements. They seemed to communicate so well without words.
When it was over, she didn't regret any of their decisions. She walked away from Santana confident. She was so accustomed to Santana's body that she didn't recognize the landscapes of Rachel's.
But she slowly became acquainted.
Where Santana liked to be bitten, Rachel preferred to be nipped. Santana reveled in the control of being on top...but Rachel loved the feeling of being pounded underneath her. She realized quickly that what she did with Santana was fun... but what she did with Rachel was intense.
She and Rachel kept constant contact during sexual activities. They'd fight to keep eye contact, every moment vital to their memory for later reference. Rachel voiced almost every feeling she had, harshly whispered in her ear or through teeth sunken into the crook of her shoulder. Dirty things like, "Fuck me," and "I'm so wet,"—coupled with frantic thrusts and squeezing fluttering insides.
The weeks that followed their first time had been tricky. She saw Rachel as much as her job would allow. They never talked about things outside of the hotel room, afraid the severity of their impending end would pop the proverbial bubble they'd been hiding in. She wasn't jealous of BJ, well, not at first.
The only thing Rachel shared about the time she spent on the clock was that it was work. It quieted all of her objections before they sprouted. It was work. Disconnected and humdrum. They were sexually exclusive otherwise, and Rachel didn't want her to have jealous feelings over men who never got to be with her the way she did. Summer was mostly over when jealousy finally roared its ugly head.
Puck had come back to Lima to visit his mother and little sister. They'd been on good terms since Beth and Shelby moved back; even though the only connection they had was biological parentage. They met at the Lima Bean to catch up, and Puck started gloating about seeing Rachel before heading back to Columbus. He said he missed her, just like she would when Rachel left for New York late August. But Puck had a sense of entitlement, like he and Rachel had unfinished business. He smirked play-boyishly at her, and implied dubious things with a comment about their chemistry being undeniable.
It really pissed her off.
Rachel told her later that evening that she and Puck would be having dinner together. She had no actual claim over the tiny brunette, but the anger bubbling in her belly told her that she wanted to.
"Is he paying for it?"
It shouldn't have blurted from her mouth; she should have known better. Rachel looked affronted only for a few seconds before she slapped her, hard on the side of her face.
"Never insinuate what you just did... and if he is or isn't paying it is still none of your business."
Rachel stormed out before the shock dissipated, and she was left in their regular motel room, dazed and confused. She sat on the bottom of the bed in 7B the entire night, wondering if Rachel was just giving Puck head or if she'd actually have sex with him.
When Rachel didn't return that night, she was livid. It was the wakeup call she needed, and she stormed out of the room and made her way to the Berry residence, still upset. It was late, but she knew Rachel's father wouldn't be there, since she was positive he and Judy were bar hopping buddies. Rachel's car was parked in the driveway, Puck's directly behind it. She waited for a minute, and as she reached for her door handle, Rachel's front door opened. She ducked when Puck walked out, and peeked over her steering wheel to see what was happening.
Puck gave Rachel a big hug, lifting her off the ground and squeezing before she swatted affectionately at his shoulders. He put her down, kissing her forehead, before jogging over to his truck. She waited for him to pull out the driveway, and got slowly out of her car when he finally turned off the block.
She marches up the driveway, and doesn't bother knocking. She walks in as Rachel clears the coffee table, half eaten plates of food and empty wine coolers balanced cautiously in her arms. She slams the door and Rachel, startled, drops everything she's holding.
"Quinn, what are you-"
She doesn't know why she is as angry as she is; they've been avoiding titles and blatantly disregarding everything outside of their hotel room for weeks. She feels justified, nonetheless, to call her out.
"Did you have sex with him, Rachel?"
She watched the venom of her voice bounce off Rachel's facial expression. Rachel shook her head before sitting down on the couch, the energy seemingly drained from her rebuttal.
"Quinn, what are we?"
She guffaws. She walked in expecting an argument. She expected a heated screaming hissy fit. She hadn't really expected Rachel to take all the wind out of her sails.
"…Because I am really trying to gather why you are so upset that Puck and I had dinner tonight. Even if we did have sex of any kind, which we didn't, you would not be asked permission."
She's right. She is definitely right. It makes you furious that you have nothing to say to that.
"So what are we? I guess I need to know, before I leave for New York. I have been under the impression that we were friends with benefits. And while I have been thoroughly enjoying myself... I expected this to end soon."
Rachel's right- again. She sits down beside her and rubs her face. She hates that Rachel is right.
"We are whatever you want us to be."
It's a stupid answer, but she felt the need to say something.
Rachel sighs and leans against the back of the sofa.
"It doesn't work that way, Quinn. When this started, did you know it was me? Did you seek me out to be with me or did you find out it was me during? Just...why? Why now?"
She is shocked that they never had this conversation before.
"I... I knew it was you. I was taking a big chance...revealing what I am to you. But I—after your dad passed away," she takes a moment to gauge Rachel's reaction, deciding to continue when Rachel nods her head to go on. "...you were just so, sad. And then Finn and you broke up and you just stopped talking to everyone...we had been on our way to finally becoming friends, you know? I was making amends for all the things I've said and done to you in the past. But then you just disappeared. So I started following you. I had to know you were alright. And I had to let you know that I was here. When I found out what you'd been up to I just... I knew there was a reason. And then it just turned into this."
It's quiet for a while. Rachel begins sentences that she doesn't finish a few times, and after the third attempt she finally gets out what she's been trying to say.
"Quinn, after my father passed away... it just opened my eyes to how short life is. I got tired of people using me, and I got tired of taking everyone's crap - I feel like I need to live everyday like it's my last one. We can keep pretending that tomorrow doesn't exist, but soon I'll be spending my tomorrow somewhere else. If you want to earn a place in my life... I suggest we talk about what happens next." She nods. She puts her hand on top of Rachel's and she links their fingers together.
"Then, let's talk."
They hadn't visited 7B since that conversation. They spent time together, working out the kinks in their newly christened relationship. They delved into each other's history and answered all the questions that were never brought up in their hotel room. The last week of summer came and BJ was in high demand. She took the time Rachel was working to say goodbye to the few good people she would be leaving behind.
Goodbyes were harder than she expected. But she said long goodbyes to Sam and Mercedes. She wished Tina and Mike well with their marriage. She even called Puck on the phone to tell him that she'd miss him. It was bittersweet, saying goodbye to Lima. But New York was calling... and three of her favorite people were there.
She applied to a lot of schools. Mostly ivy league colleges that were smitten with her flawless academic record. She picked Cornell last minute, only because Yale would mean long trips she wouldn't want to make just to see Rachel. Brittany had gotten into Julliard after her first audition and Santana was attending Columbia not too far away. It took convincing, but she got Rachel to agree that sharing an apartment would be an economically smart decision. Rachel would be able to keep a lot of her savings, and the four of them would have a great support system in such a giant city.
It was a start of something great. She and Rachel were together, living every day like it was their last. She partially blames her current situation on this new mentality. Had she not been in a
"seize the day" mood, she never would have agreed to do something like this... especially with Brittany and Santana in the room. But she throws caution to the wind; she will only live once, right?
TBC...
Author's Note: Sorry for the cliffhanger. This chapter is sort of a…teaser. I have been playing in this universe for a while, and I have been trying my best not to get into too much plot. This is the most backstory you all will get, because a Faberritana foursome is up next (smut smut smut and so much smut), and will probably conclude the series. Stick with me guys. It is being written right now.
Please review.