[A/N] Imagine this as occurring during "New York" pre-Finchel date. May end up doing more with this universe but for now, please enjoy the smut that I ended up writing instead of going Black Friday shopping. Thank you!
"Mr. Shuester! I cannot be expected to perform under these conditions! If it is up to me to yet again carry this group to victory I cannot share a bed with someone! The stress of maintaining appropriate distance from my supposed bedfellow interrupts my very specific sleep schedule and if my REM cycles are thrown out of whack I will be at a disadvantage vocally during the competition!"
Rachel throws Quinn a panicked glance. "I'm sure Quinn would rather sleep on her own as well. This arrangement will force her to sleep in an uncomfortable position which will cause a tightening of her muscles and make it more difficult to dance!"
"Rachel, unless you can afford your own room you're going to have to share a bed. The other girls aren't complaining. Why can't you be more like Brittany and Santana? They're being real troopers about it."
She pouts, and before she can draw a breath to rebut Mr. Shue, he holds his hand up and starts to walk away.
"You two will have to work this out. I've got to get us registered for the competition."
"But Mr. Shue!"
"Jesus, Berry, calm down. What do you think I'm going to do? I'm not going to shave your head in your sleep or anything. Just go with it."
"It's fine. I'll just sleep on the floor."
"Suit yourself." Quinn starts down the hallway, her orange jacket flowing behind her. It isn't until she turns the corner that Rachel releases the breath she's been holding since they walked into the room and the pairs were set.
She had imagined this possibility dozens of times in her own bed with her hand working furiously under her nightgown. She would imagine Quinn lying beside her, dragging her fingers up and down the delicate skin of Rachel's arms and kissing her tenderly behind her ears. Sometimes she would imagine things getting more intense and would pretend her hand was Quinn's as she let it float down her body and stroke her own breasts and tease her inner thighs before delving into her wetness. Usually she would stop herself there and try to imagine something, or someone else, before she came. She couldn't allow herself to orgasm thinking about Quinn Fabray—how would she look at her in school or in practice? Anything that would distract her from her rigorous practice schedule for Nationals was out of the question and that included anything that made it herder that it already was to lay eyes on Quinn Fabray- sharing a bed with the blonde included.
She dresses for bed in the bathroom and climbs into the double bed she and Quinn are expected to share for the night. While she had considered sleeping on the floor she imagined the pain of a sore neck and the effect it would have on her ability to reach the top of her range. She chooses the bed not because of her bedfellow but purely for the good of the team.
At least that's what she tells herself as she clings to the edge of the bed and closes her eyes, trying her hardest to avoid any contact with the blonde sleeping beside her. She fears that if she allows herself to relax for even a moment, she won't be able to stop her fingers from stroking the smooth skin of Quinn's cheek. She screws her eyes shut tighter and tries to concentrate on a game that always put her to sleep as a child. For each letter of the alphabet she names a musical.
A…Annie Get Your Gun
B…Babes in Arms
C…Cabaret
D…Damn Yankees
E…Evita, of course.
She's debating between Follies and Funny Girl when she feels the weight of Quinn's hand on her waist. Her breath catches in her throat and her body tenses and her eyes fly open at the contact. Rachel turns her head just enough to see that Quinn's eyes are still closed. She tries to steady her breath.
It was an accident, she tells herself. And you're ridiculous for assuming anything else. She's asleep. Get a grip.
She closes her eyes again and resumes her game.
F…Funny Girl
G…Gypsy
H…How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying
I…Into the Woods.
Rachel swears she feels Quinn's hand move on her waist. It almost feels like her hand is stroking the fabric of Rachel's pajamas. On purpose.
Rachel decides to take a risk. She moves her body away from the edge of the bed and closer to Quinn's, almost pressing against it. Quinn's hand slides from her hip across her stomach and the jolt of electric excitement that travel through Rachel and settles between her legs is more than she can bear. She lightly, nearly inaudibly, sighs. Quinn does it again, then Rachel feels her hand crawling up her torso and gently drawing circles on her ribcage.
"Quinn? Are you awake?"
"Mmhmm."
"Oh…okay."
'Oh. Okay'? That's the brilliant line she comes up at this moment, the peak of her adolescent longing?
"I am, too."
"I know."
"Oh right. Obviously."
"You can scoot over, Rachel," she whispers. "I won't bite."
"Well," Rachel murmurs, "maybe I want you to." She knows the words are shaky and the sentiment is out of character, but she gets the reaction she wants. She can almost feel Quinn's jaw drop.
"That's forward."
"Well, I don't know when I'll get a chance like this again."
"Turn over," Quinn commands. Rachel shifts her weight finds herself much closer to Quinn than she anticipated.
"Hey."
"Hey."
Quinn combs back Rachel's hair before she closes the little distance between them with a kiss. Rachel makes a noise that she knows is coming from her somewhere, but can't believe is coming from a kiss alone.
She kisses Quinn back but she tries to hold back. She can only imagine pouring her whole self into this kiss and scaring Quinn away with the ferocity.
But then she feels her hair being tangled and pulled between Quinn's urgent fingers and all bets are off. She pulls Quinn's body closer to hers and scratches her nails down her back, still covered by a tank top. Rachel opens her eyes and pulls away from the blonde who nods and helps Rachel by raising her arms. Rachel nearly rips the fabric from Quinn's body and is stunned and breathless to see Quinn's small, pert breasts. God she wants to touch them more than anything and when Quinn takes Rachel's hand and lays it over her left breast Rachel feels her heart beat faster.
She grips and kneads Quinn's breast in her hand and blushes when Quinn reaches for her hand and murmurs, "No, like this," and shows her how to roll her nipple between her fingers. Rachel follows Quinn's pattern and is amazed by how Quinn's nipple hardens against her fingertips.
Rachel pinches a little harder and cups Quinn's other breast gently. The hiss that passes between Quinn's lips flips Rachel's stomach and she echoes the little whisper of pleasure as she presses her lips to Quinn's neck, then to her collarbone, to her shoulder.
Quinn's hands start to roam up and down Rachel's sides. The thick fabric of Rachel's nightgown has never felt more oppressive and she longs to lift it over her head and throw it across the room. She needs to feel Quinn's hands on her skin and the heat of Quinn's body against hers.
"Quinn…I…" she whispers.
"Yeah?"
She tries to hike her nightgown up around her hips and Quinn grins and reaches down to the hem to pull the offending garment over Rachel's head.
"Better?" Quinn asks. Rachel nods as she presses a bruising kiss to Quinn's lips as Quinn's hands continue to roam her body.
When Quinn's hands cup Rachel's breasts she feels like she might explode at any second, but then Quinn's lips leave hers and dip lower. They're past her neck, past her collarbone, past her shoulders—they're pursed around one of Rachel's nipples and she can't hold in the gasp the contact elicits.
"Shhh…"
"Sorry," she murmurs, but Quinn's tongue is still swirling around her breast and her mouth is creating the most delicious suction around her nipple that Rachel can't even imagine what could be better.
And then Quinn's fingers travel down Rachel's stomach and settle right above the elastic band of her underwear.
"Do you want me to—I mean, can I?"
"Now you're the one who's flustered," Rachel teases. Quinn nips her playfully and strokes the skin under her fingers.
"You didn't answer my question."
"I can't believe you need to ask for an answer." Rachel takes Quinn's hand in hers and presses it against the wet cotton between her legs.
Rachel sighs again, trying to stay quiet, and presses her body against Quinn's hand. She rocks her body, desperate to feel Quinn's fingers where she has imagined them for so long.
But then her hand is in Quinn's and Quinn is guiding Rachel's hand down, then under the waistband of her shorts, and into her panties. She feels a wiry mound of hair against the palm of her hand and her fingers dip down just slightly to brush the wet rise of her clit. Quinn's breath comes faster and harder and a low moan escapes the back of the blonde's throat and Rachel presses forward. She traces circles slowly and precisely.
"Take them off," Quinn groans.
"Are you sure?"
"Uh huh. Please."
"Okay."
"Now yours."
Their bodies are pressed together in wet, naked heat, fingers moving furiously between each other's thighs. Rachel relishes every movement, every feeling—from the way their breasts rub together to the way Quinn's finger is tracing her entrance.
"Yessss," she moans. "I want you inside."
Quinn's finger slides past her wet lips inside one digit at a time and it's too slow and not enough and all she wants is more.
"Can I try something?"
"Anything," Rachel sighs.
Suddenly she feels the softness of Quinn's tongue against her and every nerve in her body is on fire. She looks down her body and her breath catches in her throat when she sees the head of blonde hair nestled between her legs. It sends a new wave of excitement through her and she knows she's getting wetter and that she's clenching Quinn's finger. Quinn is still working inside of her and her tongue and lips are moving in ways that she had never allowed herself to imagine.
"Quinn…" she moans. She clasps her hand over her mouth, doing whatever she can to stay quiet, but it feels nearly impossible. She inhales sharply as Quinn works another finger inside her. She's so close to coming harder than she's ever come before, but she tries to hold it back. There's no guarantee that when this is over she'll ever get a chance like this again.
But Quinn's fingers hit a sweet spot against her walls inside her and she knows it's all down hill.
"Do that again."
"What? This?"
Another flick, another lick and she's another inch closer to the orgasm that is building and spiraling inside her. Quinn spreads one long lick along the length of Rachel's clit and she can't hold on any longer. Her nails dig into Quinn's scalp and she grits her teeth as her thighs shake and her body shudders and every muscle in her body tenses and releases over and over again. The moan that escapes her clenched jaw is just barely muffled by the pillow she manages to grab as she comes.
She's seeing stars as she moans Quinn, Quinn, god yes please Quinn over and over, waiting for her body to relax and let go of the orgasm ripping and tearing through her but it continues to roll until she's left sweaty and spent underneath Quinn, who is crawling up her body and brushing gentle kisses along the front of her body.
"God Quinn, that was…incredible. I've never—"
"I know. It was amazing."
"I should return the favor. It's not fair if I get to…finish and you don't."
"Next time."
Next time?
Rachel can taste herself on Quinn's lips as they kiss again and their tongues tangle in each other's mouths.
"So it would be redundant now to tell you that I like you?" Rachel murmurs.
"A little, but I like hearing it anyway."
"Well," she starts, retrieving their clothes from the foot of the bed, "I like you."
"I like you, too," Quinn whispers.
"You do?"
"Yeah."
Rachel pulls her nightgown over her head and Quinn slips back into her shorts and top.
"I guess it's lucky we got paired up to share a bed," Rachel says as Quinn rests her head on the brunette's chest.
"I guess you could call it luck. Or good planning."
Rachel grins sleepily, kissing Quinn on the forehead.
"Smooth move, Fabray."
They each turn over to their respective sides of the bed, but the precaution is useless. They wake up in the morning in a tangled embrace anyway and Rachel can't help but grin—even when Santana stands at the foot of their bed with their underwear in her hand and a smile on her lips.
"We were just—" Rachel starts.
"I know what you were just, Berry. And it's about damn time."
"We think so too," Quinn confirms and Rachel, for the first time, is glad that Mr. Shuester ignored one of her requests.