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Broken Sinks & Bountiful Baking
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Infatuated Roommates
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They'd kissed. They had actually kissed. Santana was still wrapping her head around it. She had kissed her roommate, her constantly destroying furniture, baking all the baked goods possible, singing every chance she got, and overly dramatic roommate. How did that even happen? How had she ended up here?
Despite the two of them agreeing before the kiss took place that it wouldn't be a onetime thing, it had somehow turned into a onetime thing. They had kissed again that same evening, but only sparingly, and then not at all when their friends left. Kissing unsupervised felt like a bad idea, so they were avoiding it.
That's how they ended up in their current predicament. Santana wanted Rachel, and she was pretty sure Rachel wanted her, too, but there was no boundaries right now. If Santana kissed her and Rachel dragged her to the bedroom, that would be it, and that was not how Santana wanted this to go.
She liked Rachel, a hell of a lot more than she'd liked anyone in a long time, and screwing each other before they were ready to take that step would ultimately screw them over. She wasn't willing to risk it. She actually, god forbid she utter this aloud, she actually wanted to make this official. She wanted Rachel to be her girlfriend, which sounded so juvenile when said like that, but it was true.
But how, how could she even contemplate asking Rachel to be her girlfriend when she was too damn scared to approach the girl and kiss her again?
Sulking over that thought, Santana finished off her coffee, trying to be as quiet as possible as Rachel was still asleep, and grabbed a piece of paper to stick on the fridge. She needed to start bucking up, being bold, being brave, if she ever wanted the girl. No more pansying about.
If you're free, I'd love to meet you for lunch. Drop in around one?
Beneath this, Santana scribbled the instructions for her office at work, and before she could regret her action, she tacked it on the fridge and grabbed her things to get out the apartment.
Santana didn't even let herself think about the ramifications of her note until her class had finished and she found herself sitting in her office, looking over papers for the afternoon, and feeling the grumbling of her stomach in protest.
Three knocks on the door, one twist of the handle, and in walked in a shy and nervous Rachel, biting her lip. Santana stood, somehow surprised she had turned up, and waved her in. She was expecting her to cancel or something, so this was a good change. However, Santana hadn't quite planned ahead of asking Rachel.
"Am I interrupting?" Rachel asked, closing the door behind her and seeing the stumped look on Santana.
"No, no, not at all," Santana replied, waving her arm dismissively and standing up to greet her properly.
Advancing round the desk, Santana wasn't sure if she should hug Rachel, kiss her or something, and instead, found Rachel taking the lead on that. She pulled Santana into a hug, but when it was over, she only moved her body back briefly, still holding onto Santana's arm.
"Good, I'd hate to be bothering while you work," Rachel answered.
"Nope, not bothering me at all. I'm glad you came. Very glad." God, Santana, shut up. She sounded like a babbling schoolboy.
"Do your students normally come see you during lunch?" Rachel asked, her eyes flittering round the office to take it all in. When she'd read Santana's note and seen the directions, she was elated that she was finally going to see where Santana worked exactly.
Rachel knew Santana was some kind of teacher, but according to the plaque on the door, she was a Professor, and that was new information. She couldn't help but wonder why Santana had kept that part quiet, and then realised how foolish that was. She had kept her whole Broadway life a secret, so it made sense Santana had done something similar.
"No, they shouldn't bother us," Santana replied, unable to stop her fingers caressing the side of Rachel's waist with them so close. She really had planned on stepping away by now, but Rachel's hold on her wasn't wavering.
"So no one will be requiring Professor Lopez's help this lunch?" she asked, a sultry and husky hint to it.
The way she said it had Santana fumbling to reply, her brain short-circuiting and shutting down. There were too many innuendos to be made, and good heavens if hearing Rachel call her that wasn't a turn on.
"They shouldn't," Santana croaked, shaking her head and deciding it was safer to flee than stay standing next to her.
Rachel smirked as Santana practically ran behind her desk for cover, and she filed away that important piece of information for when they were further along in whatever it was they were doing. Someone clearly had a fantasy, and gosh, Rachel was phenomenal at role-play. Hello, Broadway actress.
"So did you…lunch?" Santana asked, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, still unable to forget the mental image Rachel had inadvertently provided her with.
"Yes, lunch. Do you have somewhere in mind?"
"There's a…there's a place real close we could go to?" God, she needed to get a hold of herself. Could she ever play it cool in front of her, or was that just not possible?
"Great! Lead the way, Professor!" Ignoring the whimper she heard, Rachel entwined her arm with Santana's once more and bit back her smirk.
After the lack of kisses since their first one, Rachel had been a little worried that Santana had changed her mind about seeing where this was going. She even briefly considered the notion that Santana wasn't attracted to her at all, and that she thought she was a terrible kisser. But, by the dark look in Santana's eyes and the way they would seek out Rachel's lips and then glance over her body as they walked, Rachel knew she had nothing to worry about.
Maybe Santana just needed the two of them to take things slow. She could do that. Rachel could take things slow. Yes, she wanted to jump the woman, but she could find some self-restraint, somewhere.
And this impromptu lunch, this sweet gesture that was completely unnecessary that the two of them found themselves partaking in, it was another indication that both were still interested in the other. The kiss hadn't freaked either of them out, and there was still hope that a relationship could be on the cards.
Thank God.
*0*0*
That Saturday afternoon, one week from their first kiss, and four days since they'd had a perfectly innocent lunch together, Santana found herself sitting in her living room contemplating death. When she had answered the door earlier, already having heard Rachel leave, she was not expecting Quinn and Kurt to be standing there. They each had bags in their hands, and the clinking of bottles as they raised them told her one thing; they'd come to get her drunk so they could gossip.
Somehow, and who knows why, but Santana had let them in. That's how she was sitting there, watching as Kurt sipped on whatever cocktail concoction he'd created, and looking on as Quinn acted like a pretentious douche while swirling her wine in her glass. Santana had already downed her gin and tonic in desperation.
So far, they'd already laughed at her measly attempt to do 'couple' things with Rachel, the lunch, and were moving onto more pressing issues, like what Rachel and Santana got up to once everyone left them last weekend and if they had an official winner of the bet.
"We've not slept together!" Santana cried, looking round for a bottle of something to top up her glass with. It didn't matter what it was. It was eleven in the morning and all social rules had gone out the window. Her life was a mess, she was going to start acting like one, too.
"You need to get on that," Kurt mused, nodding his head and then twisting his face as he took another sip of his drink. It was a little too strong for his liking. He should have been more conservative with the alcohol. Well, he knew for the next one. He had all day to get it right.
"No, Santana, you should wait. You don't want to rush things," Quinn added, having already invested a good amount of money into this bet and not wanting to lose it all to Kurt of all people.
"I know, I know. I don't want to rush things," Santana agreed, fully aware that Quinn had her own reasons for encouraging Santana to take her time, but not caring either way.
"Would it be rushing things?" Kurt threw in, shooting Quinn a glare for encouraging Santana. Surely that was against the rules of the bet. She just smirked behind her wine glass and he wondered how many drinks it would take him to turn on her. "I mean, the two of you have kissed, things have surely moved on from there?"
His question piqued Quinn's curiosity, too, and they both looked to Santana to hear about any other details and progress that might have been made since Saturday. The pursing of her lips and her lack of eye contact meant there had been nothing, and Quinn relaxed in relief, while Kurt sighed in defeat. He was counting on his friend to get laid to earn him some money, and she was letting him down, severely.
"Is she at least a good kisser?" he asked. If she was, he stood a chance of Santana falling weak and bedding the girl within the next month. The money would be his then.
Eyes on the prize.
"She looks like a good kisser," Quinn mused, inadvertently pulling the attention to her.
Santana and Kurt both turned to stare at her, intrigued and curious as to why she said as such, and after the silence droned on for too long, Quinn looked up to see what the problem was. She was met with a smirk on Kurt's face, and a frown on Santana's.
"What is it?"
"She looks like a good kisser?" Santana repeated, her tone fierce. Snix was itching to be let loose, the alcohol having opened her cage and let her run free in Santana's brain.
"She does. What's wrong with that?" Quinn replied, shrugging her shoulders.
"Pray tell, Quinnie, do you wish to kiss Miss Berry?" Kurt asked, seeing his chance to extract revenge for her encouragement moments before. Turning Santana on Quinn like a rabid dog would ensure she never listened to another thing coming out her mouth, and he could be back in the game.
"What? No," Quinn rushed out, frowning and looking at her wine glass. How many had she had? This felt like a dream. Was she that wasted she'd fallen asleep?
"Really?" Kurt prodded, his smirk growing by the second. It was sickening.
"Yes, really. What? I can't say she looks like she'd be a good kisser without wanting to kiss her myself?"
"It's just a bit suspicious, especially given how you never really were a fan of Santana living with her," Kurt mused, rising his eyebrows and shrugging, with Santana watching on with a frown. God, she'd been too silent. It was freaking Quinn out.
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"Do you maybe have a crush on one Miss Berry?" Quinn was going to kill Kurt. She'd push him down the stairs on their way out and relish in any harm he received.
"No, and stop calling her that," Quinn groaned, feeling like they were going round in circles. Just as she finished, Santana decided to speak up.
"Stay away from my girlfriend-" she began to bark.
"Is she your girlfriend, though?" Kurt asked suddenly, spinning in his chair to look at Santana, thinking he had struck gold.
"You're not even dating her!" Quinn argued, happy to turn the teasing off of her and back onto someone else.
"Okay, one, she's not my girlfriend, yet. I'm going to ask her. I will, I'll ask her at some point. And two, totally the wrong answer, Quinnie. You should have said you weren't interested in her," Santana replied, crossing her arms over her chest and looking royally pissed off.
"You two are ridiculous," Quinn muttered, downing her wine for relief.
"You're in denial," Kurt sang, loving this turn of events. Santana was still shooting her dirty looks and Quinn knew better than to mess with her in this mood. They never should have started drinking so early.
"I'm leaving," she said, rising from the couch and grabbing her coat and bag, if only to save her hide from Santana's ill placed wrath.
"That's right, run away from the truth," Kurt muttered, giggling his ass off as she rolled her eyes.
Before Quinn could take a step towards the door, however, keys began jingling in the lock and it opened.
"Oh hey guys!" Rachel chimed, coming in with bags laden in each arm, looking a little surprised to see both Quinn and Kurt present. "I brought lunch! Quinn, are you leaving?" she asked, noticing the girl holding her coat and bag.
"What? Oh. No, I'm staying." Dropping her bag and coat onto the couch again, Quinn sat down and dropped her eyes from Rachel's beaming smile.
"Great! I'll get everyone plates!" Santana watched her roommate prance off into the kitchen and then turned to Quinn, pointing to her fiercely; she then ran her finger over her throat in a slitting motion. She was dead. She was so dead.
"So what's that about you not having a crush on her?" Kurt muttered, giggling again.
"Shut up," Quinn barked, feeling like an idiot. She didn't have a crush on Rachel, not at all. She was more worried about Santana living with a crazy person than anything else, and she only agreed to stay because she didn't want to be rude. However, none of that mattered from the glare Santana was still shooting at her.
"Stay away from my soon to be girlfriend," Santana whispered, shooting a look round to the kitchen in the hope Rachel couldn't hear them.
"Oh please, like you'll ever have the courage to ask her," Quinn replied, rolling her eyes.
"You're just jealous," Santana shot back.
Kurt chuckled at the turmoil he had started and sipped more of his drink, enjoying the relaxed and sated feeling seep over his body. What an awesome day.
"Have you thought about how you're going to ask her?" he asked, hearing Rachel humming and singing in the kitchen as she puttered about. He wanted to go help, but this question was of more importance in his mind.
"It might be too soon. I mean, we just kissed, right? I can't exactly jump into things here. We live together, so if it goes south, we're screwed," Santana answered, biting her lip anxiously, feeling the unease and worries take over her mind again.
"I thought that was the idea, going south, getting screwed…" Kurt added, still thinking about the bet.
"What if she's not ready to date me? Or fuck, what if she doesn't want to?" Santana mumbled, running a hand through her hair, no longer trying to pretend like everything was dandy.
"You should find out," Quinn supplied, just daring to join back in on the conversation.
"How?"
"Ask her," she said simply.
"Ask- ask her? Are you fucking crazy?" It was Quinn she was asking, Santana already knew the answer to that. Yes, yes she was fucking crazy.
"Come on, how else are you meant to know?"
"I don't know." Santana shrugged and then was saved from saying anymore by the reappearance of Rachel.
"Normally I over order, so San can eat the leftovers, so thankfully there is enough," she said, carrying a tray of food in bowls and cutlery.
Getting up to help, Santana headed into the kitchen and brought over the plates and a fresh glass for Rachel to use. All of it was placed on the coffee table, amongst the booze, and everyone set about putting some food in their systems to soak up the alcohol.
Flicking through the TV channels, they settled on some mind-numbing movie, and enjoyed the food without any more stressful talk, for which Santana was relieved. At least Quinn and Kurt knew when to cut it out and behave themselves. They could be trusted after all.
Once the food was done, Santana began clearing up the plates and taking everything back to the kitchen. She heard the sound of footsteps behind her, and we pleasantly surprised when Rachel planted her tray next to Santana's on the counter.
Smiling at each other as they worked to put things in the dishwasher and wrap up left overs, Santana couldn't stop from watching her roommate move around the kitchen. She was so at home, and yes, she lived there, but seeing her move like she belonged there really hit Santana. No matter what happened between them, she didn't want to lose this, this easy and relaxing attitude between them.
Reaching out just as Rachel was about to head back into the living room, Santana took hold of her hand and tugged her back.
"Thanks for lunch," she murmured, keeping her voice down just in case Kurt and Quinn were eavesdropping. Seeing the small smile on Rachel's lips, Santana's courage increased, and before she had a chance to over think it, she leant forward and kissed her, softly.
Rachel kissed her back, moving into the kiss while Santana pulled away, and then chuckled under her breath at the elation a simple kiss could bring her.
"Figured I'd pay you back for Tuesday," Rachel finally replied when her brain was back to working, blushing a little at the sign of affection, but happy for it nonetheless. Very happy for it, actually.
"You didn't have to."
"I wanted to, just like you wanted to kiss me again." Her eyes lit up as she spoke, and a smirk rose on her lips at her words. She had seen Santana eyeing her lips all week, but yet no kiss. Until now. "Next time, don't over think it. I certainly won't."
To reaffirm her statement, Rachel tugged at Santana's top to get her to step closer and then kissed her again, sure and certain. It was enough for a small whimper to escape Santana's mouth and then Rachel was placing small pecks on her lips, bringing her back down.
"Come back and join us when you're coherent," she quipped, placing one final kiss on Santana's lips, and then prancing out the kitchen.
Santana stood, routed to the spot, dazed and euphoric. The erratic beating of her heart, the heavy breaths, the warmth seeping through her and making her giddy, all of it was pointing to one conclusion in regards to her feelings about her roommate. But now wasn't the time to think about it. She had to work out a way of asking Rachel to be her girlfriend, first.
Unless Rachel beat her to it, of course.
*0*0*
By the following Wednesday, Santana still hadn't asked Rachel to be her girlfriend. Though, things had been incredibly busy at work, for both Rachel and herself, so it made sense to hold off until things had calmed down somewhat.
Given that things were a little more crazy, the two of them had struggled to spend time together. There was the odd hug and peck here and there when they saw one another, but it was rare. Santana missed it too much, missed Rachel far too much, and as she wanted her fix of the girl, she decided to stay up until Rachel arrived home.
In theory, that was a great idea, but in reality, Santana couldn't fight the fatigue.
Rachel arrived home around her usual time and after shutting the door as quietly as possible, she turned to see the living room lamp on and a sleepy Santana sprawled out on the couch. It was such an endearing sight, and she had to fight the 'Aww' that wanted to escape, lest she wake her up.
Tiptoeing closer, Rachel shrugged her coat off and placed it on the empty chair, and then took a seat on the coffee table in front of Santana. She knew she was being a creeper by watching her roommate sleep, but this was the same roommate she was kissing and fantasizing about so surely it didn't count.
Brushing hair away from Santana's face, Rachel reached for the blanket on the back of the couch and placed it over her, hoping to keep her warm. Turning off the lamp and with one last look, Rachel kissed the tips of her fingers and then placed it on Santana's cheek, not wanting to wake her.
She was rather enamoured with her roommate. This had not been her intention when moving in, but then again, by this point in her life, Rachel had thought she'd have herself a Tony, be married and probably have a kid. So yes, it was unexpected, but the best kind of unexpected.
Rising from her seat, she went into the kitchen to have a bit of a snack, feeling too awake to even contemplate sleeping. As quiet as she tried to be, the microwave buzzing and the sound of the fridge opening and closing were enough to rouse the sleeping figure in the living room. Rachel didn't say anything, just let Santana wake up peacefully.
Only after several minutes of silence, and Rachel wondering if Santana had just snuck into her bedroom, did she turn to see where her roommate was. Standing in the doorframe, leaning against it was a very sleepy looking Santana.
"You can come in, you know," Rachel teased, turning back around to finish mixing her pasta up.
It only took a moment but then Santana was standing behind her, her front pressed against her back, and Santana's head falling into the crook of her neck as her arms wrapped round her waist. She chuckled in surprise but did not protest.
"Hi," Santana whispered, feeling Rachel's chuckle, and then planting a small kiss against her neck.
"Hi," Rachel replied, smiling into her words and leaning back into Santana's embrace. "Did I wake you?"
"Mmm nope." It was an utter lie, but Rachel wasn't going to argue. Her question had been to test how lucid Santana was, but her response told her nothing.
"Okay, as long as I didn't wake you." Thankful she had already fetched a fork, Rachel began munching on her food, happy to stay put in Santana's embrace.
" 'ou neva," Santana slurred sleepily, yawning against Rachel's skin and burying her face further.
"If you're tired, you should go to bed," Rachel suggested. As much as she wanted Santana to stay there with her, she knew the woman had work early in the morning.
"No." Another kiss to her neck, and Rachel took a shaky breath. Santana probably had no idea of the effect she was having on her.
"Did you have a good day?"
"Missed you," Santana drawled, leaning against Rachel more, as if trying to find the optimal place to sleep standing up.
"I missed you, too." She had no idea just how much.
The silence then rang on, and after chancing a few looks, Rachel concluded that yes, Santana was trying to go back to sleep. That would only lead to disaster if she was allowed, no doubt filled with her falling over or taking Rachel down with her.
"San, it's bed time," she whispered.
"Night night," she replied, surprising Rachel with her quick response, and making her chuckle.
"Come on, we need to move." Reaching for the hands wrapped round her waist, Rachel unhooked them and turned in Santana's arms. She lifted her head with a scowl, cracking open one eye as she did so, until seeing Rachel's neck and burying back in.
Seeing that she was in fact going to get no help from Santana herself, Rachel shuffled them through the apartment, reminiscing how sleepy Santana was much like drunk Santana. She couldn't help but wonder how she would take that news when told about it tomorrow. Probably much like she did last time, with pure embarrassment.
Opening Santana's bedroom door, Rachel saw that the floor was clear and then moved them on in. Santana moved with her like a ragdoll, the only sign she was still awake being the tight grip to Rachel's waist. Thankfully, Santana had changed for bed before falling asleep on the couch earlier, therefore Rachel was saved from having to change her.
"Were you trying to wait up for me?" she mused as she sat her on the bed, sure that any questions she asked now would be unheard.
The nod Santana gave her made her smile, and pulling back the duvet, Rachel adjusted the pillows before moving to roll her into bed.
"I love these little moments," Rachel confessed, seconds later.
"Hmm?"
"When you're so out of it that you're adorably vulnerable." This night was definitely making it on her 'Top Ten Moments with Santana' list. Heck, it might even make it onto the 'Five Reasons Why You're Infatuated With Her' list.
"M'not vulnerable," Santana protested clearly affronted by Rachel's words, frowning and shaking her head as she did so, her eyes still closed.
"Of course you're not," Rachel cooed, smiling as she did so. Santana was probably trying to appear angry and frightening, but she looked as scary as puppy.
"M'not!" she whined again, thumping her arm on the bed. Rachel tried not to make her laughter audible as Santana scooted in the bed and allowed the covers to be tucked over her.
"Go to sleep."
"Only if you sleep too," Santana added, burying in to her pillow.
"I'm going to bed now," Rachel said to keep her happy. She moved towards the door, flicked the light off, ready to go clean the mess she'd made in the kitchen, only to have Santana call out to her.
"Stay."
"Stay?" Rachel knew better than to ask. Santana was clearly out of it, half-asleep and dopey. Anything she said couldn't be taken seriously, despite how much she wished so.
"Yeah, just stay. Cuddle," Santana went on to add, waving her arm to bring Rachel back over. She was powerless to fight it, and a part of her really did want to stay.
"You sure?" This felt like a big step, but Santana didn't seem bothered in the least by it.
"M'sure."
Slipping out of the heavy clothes she was wearing, and slipping her bra off from under her sleeves, Rachel kept on her t-shirt and moved round the other side of the bed. Santana rolled with her movements, and tugged the covers out the way for her to crawl in. Maybe she was more alert than Rachel first thought.
Regardless, Rachel slipped in the bed, biting back the squeal from the cold sheets, and shuffled closer to the only heat in the bed. Santana seemed to have the same idea, as her hands reached out and she tugged Rachel closer, tucking her into her arms and holding her.
"This okay?" Santana asked, peeking one open to check. The content smile she saw on Rachel's lips was enough for her to close it again and hold her closer.
"Yeah, this is good," Rachel replied, burying into the heat and the scent of Santana.
"Good."
"Goodnight, San."
"Night, Rach." Feeling a soft kiss to the crown of her head, Rachel smiled and let her hand rest on Santana's hip.
Comfortable and content, the two of them calmed any racing thoughts, thumping heartbeats, shaky breaths, and joined the other in blissful sleep. The last thought to cross both their minds was that come the week ahead, they would need to make this official. No more dancing around what they were. They wanted to be together.
Simple as that.
*0*0*
