Sadly, I do not own Glee.

This is simply the fruits of a bored person's labor.

"Rachel open the damn door."

My voice was harsh even to my own ears, but right now I didn't care.

Her fathers' had let me in as they were leaving to catch a late night movie at the Lima Theater. No doubt they hadn't wanted to be here when their daughter and I threw down.

I banged on the wooden door again, but still there was no answer. And, more importantly, there wasn't a click of the lock being flipped.

"Ay dios mio, Rachel you better unlock this damn door or imma go all Lima Heights on it and bust it down!"

I could hear movement on the other side and I felt a sliver of satisfaction. Rachel knew I meant business when I threatened to go Lima Heights. But the satisfaction was minuscule when compared to the rage coursing through me.

When the door cracked open I pushed my way through.

Rachel was lying face down on her bed to where I couldn't see her, but that didn't faze me one bit. I stormed my way over to her side and let loose the anger, hurt and fear I'd been restraining for the past couple of hours.

"What the hell Rachel! A text message, really?"

When there wasn't an answer I plowed on.

"You broke up with me through a fuckin' text message? That's like the worst way in the world to end a relationship!"

Tired of staring at her back and not getting any response I grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. I was shocked to see tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were puffy and ringed with red and I could tell that she'd been crying for quite a while.

My rage forgotten I sat on the side of the bed and pulled the sorrow-filled girl into my arms. The whimpers and snivels being pressed into my shoulder would have had me calling any other person (besides Brittany) a pussy, but with Rachel I just felt lost.

Did I do this? – was all I could think.

I knew I was a terrible person, and normally it didn't bother me, but seeing Rachel cry so brokenly had me feeling like the biggest piece of shit in the world. I rocked back and forth and rubbed circles in her back to try and calm her.

I wasn't going to hush her like those assholes did in the movies. I had always thought it pretty insensitive of them when they would tell the grief stricken girl to 'shush, everything's going to be all right' as if crying wasn't the natural thing for someone to do when they were heartbroken.

When Rachel's sobs lessened to hiccups I pulled her face out of my neck and looked her in the eye. I was devastated when I got that text message at 5:45 today, but seeing Rachel like this had me on the verge of bawling like a baby. Well, maybe not bawling, but seeing her like this did make me a little misty eyed.

"Rach, what's wrong?"

My tone was gentle and I hoped she would answer me this time, but she didn't utter a word. The whites of her beautiful eyes were tinged red from all the crying. Her bottom lip was still trembling but no more tears came forth.

Not able to help myself any longer I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to those lips. The spark that jumped between our connected bodies nearly caused me to jerk back. But this I was use to and ready for.

Another tingle ran up my arm when I caressed her cheek with my hand. A gasp left my lips when her fingers tangled themselves in my hair.

With the intensity increasing I knew very well just where this kiss was headed, and I reluctantly pulled back. Rachel wasn't acting herself and I needed answers. Not even two hours ago she had texted me with a break up message saying, "It's over. I can't do this anymore."

Her lips followed mine and I smirked at the whine that she emitted when I pushed her back down to the bed.

When her eyes opened they were angry and I chuckled at her obvious frustration. This got me a pout and folded arms that enhanced the amount of cleavage showing. With the skin tight camisole she was wearing it was a wonder they didn't just bounce out.

Turned on by the image in front of me I had trouble remembering what it was I was going to ask. I averted my gaze and rubbed at my temples to get some blood circulating up there instead of in the semi-erection I was sporting down below. When I looked down and saw a damp spot on my tank top I recalled everything.

Right, crying Rachel, horrible break up message. Got it.

"Rachel, what the hell is going on? Why are you crying? And why the fuck did you break up with me via fucking text message?"

I was nearly shouting by the time I asked the last question. I felt a twinge of guilt when Rachel flinched and pulled away from me, but I was confused and hurt, and anger was my closest friend. It was second nature for me to lash out. It protected me by unfailingly keeping those that could harm my fragile heart at arm's length.

I knew that I was about to get a bitter taste of my own medicine when I looked down into the burning eyes in front of me. Rachel wasn't a violent person by nature, but when pushed hard enough that control could snap and the resulting words was known to leave a lasting mark.

I had found that out the hard way.

"I am crying because I am unhappy. Would you like me to remind you of how you sprinted away when I approached you in the hallway today? Honestly, for a girl who claims to be from the wrong side of the tracks, you're quite the coward. You are all bark and no bite, Santana. You proved that today."

Her eyes were steely and challenging. I wanted to rage and cuss and tear the freakin' room apart, but I knew that would get me nowhere. I knew from experience that Rachel would not lower herself to those standards. She could say some nasty things, but she would never lose control like that.

So I threw myself into the only other action left that could relieve the raging emotions inside of me – sex. Before my lips crashed against hers I couldn't help but feel the need to get the last word in.

"Fuck you, Rachel."

And with those words clothes went flying in every direction.

The next thing I knew I was splayed underneath a topless Rachel Berry. My cock was being pressed in the most delicious way between our bodies. My breaths were short and irregular and when Rachel leaned down to suck at my neck I forgot to breathe altogether.

Her small hand palmed my right breast and her fingers pulled harshly at my nipple. I liked rough. I liked being topped. But I loved it when it was Rachel doing those things. There was just something about her taking me and turning me into her bitch that fuckin' made my cock ache to cum.

I guess I liked being able to lose control and not have to think about what came next. But the only person I ever trusted enough to allow this control over my body was Brittany – until Rachel.

"Dios, Rachel."

I panted out the words, but still felt overwhelmed by the intense emotions running rampant between us. I turned my head away from the teeth nipping at my neck, but that just gave her a better angle. I grabbed hold of the wrist attached to the fingers pulling at my nipple and wrested them away. I liked losing control but I didn't want to lose it this soon.

When her other hand reached down and cupped my dick through my boy shorts I nearly came on the spot.

I didn't give her any more time to continue her ministrations. I hooked my leg through hers and used my weight to flip us over. It was relatively easy to accomplish since I had one of her hands hostage and her balance wasn't exactly great due to her other hand's preoccupation.

A gasp left her lips when I grabbed hold of her free hand and slammed the both of them above her head. I looked down into her darkened eyes, and there was confusion, but mostly arousal swam within their depths.

I smirked at the confused expression. Her eyebrows always scrunched together adorably whenever she was uncertain of something. But she wasn't looking at me and I didn't like that.

To get her attention I thrust my hips into hers. A burst of pleasure swept through me at the action and a thrill of power returned to me when her eyes met mine. A soft moan left her lips and was met with one of my own when she pushed her hips up and ground herself against my erection. I could feel Rachel's wetness through her underwear and my own boy shorts. It would never cease to amaze me that she could get so worked up because of me.

I opened my eyes – I had closed them when the unexpected rush of pleasure overtook me – and looked down into smoldering brown eyes that were so dark they could have passed for black from a distance. The burning in my body that had begun the moment we kissed intensified, but I resisted the urgency to relieve the pain.

I pressed my body weight on top of her to keep her from giving me anymore surprise distractions. I could feel an experimental tug on my grip of her hands from time to time, but knew that Rachel wouldn't try anything drastic to get loose. She was content to allow me to take lead even if she was restless for release. I knew that the tugs were just reminders from her for me to get on with it already.

And I would get on with it. The expectancy in her darkened orbs showed that she knew that. I sometimes got weird and took my time before having sex with Rachel, undoubtedly she knew all about that as well. But she knew with certainty that this was one expectation that I would never fall short of.

It was a sad fact.

And then it hit me. It bothered me that this was the only expectancy I was ever able to fulfill for her. Rachel deserved better than that. She deserved a hell of a lot better than that. But I couldn't give her what she wanted. It wasn't something I was ready for. She had to understand that. Her expectations were just too much too soon.

Suddenly not in the mood for sex I laid my head down on her chest. I could hear the rapid beat of her heart and it gave me courage to voice my concerns.

"Rachel?"

A clearly frustrated groan pierced the air and I nearly laughed outright at her Unsolved Sexual Tension.

"What Santana?"

The momentary urge vanished with her grumbled words.

"You know I can't tell my parents. Not now – maybe not ever."

Rachel sat up so quick I nearly fell off the side of the bed.

"Yahweh! You seriously want to talk about this now, Santana?"

When I raised my eyebrow in reply Rachel muttered under her breath furiously. The words I caught were: Bi-polar and Therapist. Apparently she thought I needed medication for my mood swings. That prompted a spike in my temper. My dick twitched with dissatisfaction and my mood took another nose dive.

I sat up and crossed my arms and waited for her to crawl out from under me and up to the headboard. When she got there she leaned her back against it and pulled her knees up defensively to her chin.

Clearly we were preparing for WW3.

Although I was irritated by her implication that I needed pills for a mental illness, I knew that I was mostly upset due to the blue-balls I was currently sporting. And that was my fault not Rachel's. She had wanted to ignore everything and have a good time. I pushed back my anger as far as I could and decided to speak civilly.

"Rachel, you can't just expect me to face down my biggest fear! I'm not fuckin' Super Woman."

So, the civility plan didn't pan out like I intended. By the looks Rachel was directing at me it didn't seem likely that it would have worked any way. Clearly the dwarf was blaming me for her UST and wasn't about to be swayed from her only other way of letting off steam.

"Obviously, Super Woman would have had the balls to talk to her girlfriend in public. I don't know – she'd probably even do something crazy, like, tell her friends that she liked her girlfriend. Now that would have been worthy of a Medal of Honor."

The sarcasm laced in the vehement words had me fuming with ire. It wasn't fair of her to call me out like that. She should know that better than anyone else since her dads' are gay and have been through the same shit.

I got up in her face and spit my words out with as much fury as I could muster.

"Rachel, you are a fuckin' hypocrite of the worst kind! You're the one that goes around preaching at others on the right way to live your life when in fact those same judgments and doubts you claim to hold in contempt twirl inside your own twisted mind. And when every ones' backs are turned? You deal out the same judgments that you condemn everyone else for having."

I turned to storm out of the bedroom and off the Berry residence, but when Rachel spoke I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Maybe I am a hypocrite for wanting you to acknowledge your feelings and tell other people about us, but at least I admit to it! You're too in denial to even concede out loud that you like girls, Santana!"

I turned around to find an enraged Rachel that I had never witnessed before.

"Newsflash – I'm a girl! We've had sex. You've had sex with other girls before!"

The look of fury suited her. I was honestly turned on by the amount of anger pent up in that small frame of hers – it also helped that she was topless. It reminded me of other things we could have been doing to release that tension. The semi-erection I'd incurred flopped sideways when Rachel's features transformed from wrathful Goddess to mournful Spirit.

"There hasn't been any progress, Santana. You've shown no inclination of changing in any way. If you had I wouldn't be pushing so hard. I know it's wrong of me, but I'm desperate. I need to know, Santana. Because I can't keep going like this – it hurts too much."

My heart twisted with guilt and shame. The look on Rachel's face was one of torment. She was suffering and it was all because of me.

"Rachel, I – I can't promise anything."

I sort of hated myself for saying those words. I had meant to say something inspiring, like, 'I can do it! Believe in me Rachel and I can do anything.' I could almost imagine Jiminy nodding his head proudly from my shoulder. But with those words I could see the disappointed shake of his head as he floated away clutching to his umbrella.

I shook my own head to get rid of the image but as soon as it was gone I wished for it back because anything was better than the solemn site before me. There was grief written on Rachel's face but the set of her shoulders seemed relieved. My heart gave another sickening twist. Rachel had gotten the answer she was looking for, and it didn't bode well for me or our relationship.

No wonder she'd texted her break-up. This was fucking depressing.

I slammed my eyes shut and listened to the erratic thump of my heart. Usually when my heart beat like that it was from Rachel's touch after we made love. But Rachel wasn't touching me and – thanks to me – we hadn't had sex. There was no denying that it was fear that I felt.

I was terrified and it was because I knew I was about to lose her. Maybe that had been it all along. With every time we had touched and had sex – in some dark corner at the back of my mind – there had been the fear that I would lose that feeling.

My eyes popped open and a gasp of surprise left my lips. Rachel was kissing me and it was so passionate that it was verging on desperation. We both knew this was probably the last time we would get to express our feelings for each other. And with that thought in mind I returned the kiss with equal fervor and crushed the brunette against me.

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Rachel's arms were snugly wrapped around my waist and her head was buried in the crook of my neck. I could feel ragged puffs of air hitting my skin as she tried to regain her breath. My own harsh breathing was loud when compared to her delicate inhalation.

My body was still on fire from the last orgasm she'd given me. Whenever we were together like this I couldn't help but wonder if I would combust into flames given enough time and exposure.

I tightened my grip around her shoulders and the burn in my flesh lessened. A tingle of electricity replaced it. The shock ran from my shoulder all the way down to my finger tips and spread to every inch of my body that her skin touched. It wasn't something that I'd ever experienced before with anyone else. Not even Brittany.

I enjoyed sex. It was a natural part of life and something that I'd indulged in as often as possible. With everyone else it was pleasurable. With Brittany it was amazing. My loving her probably had something to do with the novelty of it. She was my best friend and first love, but even with her there hadn't been these overwhelming flames that threatened to send my body up in an inferno every time we had sex. There hadn't been mind-numbing tingles every time our skin touched either.

I knew Rachel could feel these impossible sensations as well. Her body was covered in goose-bumps from that shocking current that swept through moments ago. I was certain it wasn't from the cold because sweat was beaded on her forehead. And when I ran the tips of my fingers over her arm at my waist more bumps jumped up in their wake.

I'd watched Hotel Transylvania the other night with Britt. Initially I'd been fearful that my brain would melt into nothingness while watching the animation, but it had turned out to be a decent flick. I'd never admit this out loud, but afterward I came to the conclusion that Rachel was my Zing.

I would probably never find someone else who could make me feel like this, I was fairly certain of that, but I had to let her go. All I did was hurt her and I couldn't, or, more appropriately, I wouldn't give her what she needed. And no matter how many tingles or burning infernos our bodies experienced whenever we were together it couldn't fix our relationship.

I inhaled a deep breath to calm myself before untangling my limbs from hers. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled my clothes on. When I was dressed I stood and turned to face Rachel. My heart constricted at the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. I closed mine and pulled in a sharp breath of air through my nose.

Once I worked up enough strength to see this thing through I walked stiffly back over to the bed and bent over the grief ridden girl. Softly I placed a kiss to her forehead and ran my fingers through her silky hair. The sparks were scalding in their intensity, and I pulled back slowly to savor the pain.

With that kiss goodbye I left my Zing.

A/N: This was inspired by the song Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye by Luke Bryan - a very talented (and good looking) country artist.