Disclaimer; I do not own the show or the characters in this fic (but god do I wish I did)
So, yeah. This fic will probably be progressing quite fast. I mean, I wish I could take my time with this and really write out a good 'enemies-goes friendship-goes ...' well, - you get the jest - fic. But I've already decided that this fic is not going to be long at all. Therefore, fast progression - and also, I really, really had to work hard on keeping my mind smut free when I was writing this chapter - because my hormones wanted to take over and turn this all in to a bad smutty one-shot.
Santana woke up the next day, the sun shining brightly in through the large windows, efficiently blinding her for a few seconds as she slowly opened her eyes. It wasn't until she tried to roll over to bury her face deeper into her pillow that she realized how hairy said pillow had become. She lifted her head to get a better view and squinted to get her eyes to focus, only to come face to face to a sleeping and lightly snoring Rachel Berry.
She almost jumped out of her skin as the realization of who she'd been sleeping on – literally – came to her still foggy-from-sleep mind, but calmed down enough to not scream and wake the girl up. Her right arm, as she now noticed, was firmly stuck under the dead weight of Rachel's body. She briefly considered biting it off to get free, and get the fuck out of this house, but that thought quickly flew out of mind the second she laid her eyes on the small smile the diva had on her face. She looked so different here, away from school, away from Glee where she did nothing but annoy and anger her teammates with her diva-ness ways and attitude. She looked so content now, relaxed, and the Latina had to admit that when Rachel wasn't talking a mile a minute or trying to somehow always have the spotlight on herself in Glee club, she was kind of cute. Okay, not 'kind of', she was cute – even when she was talking everyone's ears off – but now she just looked less annoying than usual.
She ghosted her left hand over the smooth skin of the diva's cheek, a small smile tugging on her own lips as she watched the diva's face relax even further, her lush lips parted and a content sigh slipped out. Wait, what? Santana removed her hand as if she'd just got burnt, before she tried harder to get her right arm free from under the diva. She did not just get all smile-y face and mushy over how cute Rachel – Man Hands – looked in her sleep! Nuh-uh, no fucking way in hell. She sighed in frustration, as she once again failed to get her arm free. "HOBBIT!" She yelled out as panic started to set in her mind. She needed to get away from this couch, away from this house and especially away from this girl. Santana Lopez has a lot of things, but she does nothave a soft spot for Rachel-freaking-Berry! That was just a onetime thing, yesterday – the girl had just been mugged for crying out loud! Even someone like Coach Sylvester, who's heartless and cruel, would've helped the poor girl out had she shown up on her doorstep instead of the Latina's.
Rachel slurred in her sleep and wrapped an arm around Santana's waist, efficiently drawing them closer and more flush against one another. She was just about to yell out another demeaning nickname to get the girl to wake the fuck up and let go of her waist, as Rachel buried her face in the crook of Santana's neck and let out a soft moan, "Mmmm."
Again, Santana Lopez has a lot of things, but she does not have tingling sensation growing in her nether region right now.
Although she kind of does.
Fuck!
"What…" Rachel's hand moved carefully around the smooth skin of the Latina's side as she tried to figure out where she was and who she was currently holding in her arms. She slowly opened her eyes, "Santana?" She stared at the Latina with her brows furrowed in confusion.
Santana, who'd frozen the second the skin of her neck come in contact with the soft moan Rachel had let out, finally calmed down enough to respond. "Uh… Yeah, you're gonna have to stop touching me right now." Her voice seemed to have dropped down a few levels, and she hated how husky it sounded. But if Rachel had noticed, she didn't let it show as she quickly removed her hand and lifted her back up to free Santana's trapped arm. "I… I apologize. I have no idea how we got in this position." She moved to stand up, turning her face a bit away from the Latina to hide the blush that had grown dark on her cheeks.
"Right." Was all Santana could reply with. She wanted to slap herself for not giving Rachel a mouthful of what she really thought of the girl and her and groping (yet not at all) manly hands.
They were both silent for a few minutes before Rachel cleared her throat and moved towards the kitchen. "Do you, want some coffee perhaps?" She asked without turning to look back at Santana, who was still sitting on the couch, looking more than a little uncomfortable.
"What? Oh, yeah. Sure, whatever. Coffee sounds good." Why wasn't she spitting out mean insults right now? The words were right there at the tip of her tongue, but for some reason they refused to come out. What was also freaking her out to an insane level was that she really hadn't minded what had occurred between them a few minutes ago at all. All she could think about was how much she'd enjoyed hearing that sound come out of Rachel's mouth, how good it had felt when that tiny hand had caressed her side and – damn it – how badly she wanted to let her fingers run over the smooth skin of Rachel's face again.
Her thoughts were making head hurt, jumping from anger to regret to fear and back to anger again. She was angry, but surprisingly and quite shockingly, not at the diva. She was angry at herself because she couldn't for the love of all that was holy figure out why the fuck Rachel Berry suddenly made her nervous.
This was not happening. What had changed in the short amount of time they'd been around each other since yesterday till' this morning that was so different from a week ago? They had barely spoken since before Christmas, and lately Santana had only ever seen Rachel during Glee Club. She hadn't even really insulted or schemed up something to do to hurt her since Valentine's Day when the Latina had decided to egg Rachel's front door in the middle of the night – you don't just get away with calling her a future stripper – the diva so had it coming that time. But now, she had no idea where her mind was at, or why.
When did she go from wanting to hurt the diva with her vicious, vicious words and cruel nicknames, such as Man Hands – to wanting that usually blabbering mouth back on her neck and that strangely not-at-all-manly hand back to her side – wanting it to keep caressing up her back, to move towards her abs, and…
"How do you want it?" What?
"What!" She choked out as she spun around on the couch to face the girl standing behind the kitchen counter. "Your coffee." She replied flatly, seemingly very focused on measuring up some sort of oatmeal in to a pan, "Do you drink it black or do you want some milk or even some sugar in it perhaps?"
Shit, how long had she been lost in thoughts? "Eh, just some milk would be fine."
She finally stood up, deciding to ignore her new feelings of nervous fluttering in her stomach, and walked up to stand next to the counter. Rachel looked up at her when she'd finished pouring water in to the saucepan she had previously put – what Santana still thought looked like oatmeal – in.
"I'm making oatmeal, if you were wondering." Santana nodded and smiled to herself, "Yeah, I figured." Once again silence settled between the two teens.
"So, you really did it, didn't you?" Santana's head snapped up to Rachel in confusion.
"Did what?"
"Mono. To Quinn and Finn." Santana laughed,
"Oh, yeah, I did that." She continued to laugh, but as Rachel's face fell a little bit, Santana suddenly felt guilty. God damn it, what's going on!
"Look, I didn't know for sure that they were, hooking up or whatever plus I was bored and… I don't know. I was still pissed at Quinn, and I never back away from any chance I get at pissing Finnocence off." Rachel's lip went up a little when she heard the nickname. "Although I don't condone your choice of spreading around diseases as some sort of revenge, Santana, I have to say that your plan was quite genius." She sent the taller girl a smirk, before she turned around and set the saucepan down on the stove. Santana watched the other girl closely, more than a little shocked at the playfulness in the diva's words, and just a little less shocked at the feeling she got in her stomach when she saw that smirk.
Almost like butterflies, only, not, because Santana Lopez never gets butterflies in her stomach. She's way cooler than that…
"So, what's up with you and Frankenteen these days, anyway?" Rachel turned around and raised her eyebrow, "Do you really care?" Her smirk was still in place, and Santana couldn't tear her eyes away from those lips. She blinked a few times before she jumped up and sat down on the counter. "Well, no. Not really. But I told you last night that I'd listen if you wanted to talk, right? So talk." Why the hell am I doing this? Why am I still here?
"Oh. Well, forgive me Santana for not thinking you actually meant those words. I figured you were only saying them to be nice and get me to calm down." The Latina nodded, "Fine, maybe I only meant it a little, but whatever. You got my attention now, want to talk or not?"
Rachel stirred around in the pan with a spoon before she mimicked Santana and jumped up onto the counter. "I cheated on him, you know?"
Not knowing this, Santana turned her shocked face in Rachel's direction. Before she had a chance to say anything though, the diva continued, "I know. No one would ever really expect that kind of behavior from me. I was just so mad at him for lying." She sighed, "And Noah's arms were way bigger than I first remembered." Again, with the shocked face from the Latina, "Wait, Puck? You hooked up with Puck!" Rachel seemed to have slipped in to her own world as she ignored the Latina's words, "Or, well… I didn't actually care about his arms. They were larger though, and girls like that right? Nevertheless, I wanted Finn to know what it felt to hurt the way I was hurting."
Santana jumped down from the counter and stood right in front of the diva, "Can you slow down?" Without thinking about it, she places both of her hands on Rachel's thighs, "When did this all happen? And why haven't I heard any juicy details yet?" The diva rolled her eyes, "I guess he didn't tell anyone. And there really aren't any 'juicy details'. Me and Noah merely had an abrupt make-out session in my room before he felt too guilty about hurting Finn once again and left."
Santana's eyebrows had migrated closer to her hairline. "Fuck, Berry. Who knew you had it in you!" She squeezed Rachel's thighs with her hands, before she realized just what she was doing, and jumped up on the counter next to the diva again. "And Puck? I can't believe he's kept quiet about this for so long."
"Well, I'm sure Finn must have threatened him with something to get him to keep quiet." A snort left the Latina's throat, "Oh please, Finnocence threatening someone? Highly doubting that. Now if he had something close to, let's say, my rep – I'd believe it. Which, just no."
"The whole, 'go all Lima Heights' deal, right? We live on the same block, Santana. And we're kind of part of the wealthier community in Lima…" Rachel nudged her shoulder and shot her a smile. The Latina tried but failed to hide her own smile, "Oh, shut up." She snapped her fingers and bopped her head as she continued, "We'z be the badasses on this block gurl."
Loud laughter bubbled out of the diva almost causing her to fall down from the counter. "Please don't ever say that again. Please!" Santana just shrugged her shoulders and sent the diva a wink before she jumped down from the counter again, and began to stir around in the pan Rachel had prepared.
Breakfast was eaten in the living room in front of the TV, where both girls ate their oatmeal and drank their coffee in silence, exchanging glances and small smiles every once in a while.
And for the next few hours, Santana Lopez couldn't care less about where she was or who she was hanging out with, even if that someone happened to be one Rachel Berry. All that she knew was; she hadn't felt this comfortable in a long while.
