Part of him expected that by sleeping with her, they could get rid the charged atmosphere and sexual tension, that it would just start to dissipate and they would get sick of each other. He hoped he could work her out of his system; but even after a month of fucking around behind closed doors, she still managed to work her way under his skin. If anything, it only seemed to get worse. They could hardly make it out the door in the morning without falling apart in each other's hands and if he saw her during the day, all she had to do was look at him with that heated gaze and his blood was boiling until he could touch her again. It was obvious to him now that one did not just shake Rachel Berry.

But they were getting to be somewhat reckless, not even waiting until they were back in their room to steal a few moments to themselves. Only a few days ago, she had cornered him in an old supply closest, her hand down his pants before he even had a second to think this shouldn't have happened there. And now here he was, practically dragging her into the room in the wall of the library, shoving her against the wall even before she had the door completely closed. She didn't seem to mind; she never seemed to mind, just rose to meet him in a bruising kiss, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh of his lower lip.

"You're going to be very late for French," he growled, her hands already working the buckled of his belt free as his own had disappeared under her skirt, shoving her underwear to one side so her could slide two fingers up into her, hard and fast enough to make her gasp, her hands stilling as she took him in. Her eyes closed as her head fell back, exposing the perfect tanned skin of her neck. His mouth latched onto it immediately, nipping at the cord of muscle just above her collarbone until she let out a lewd moan, her hands working even faster to get him out of his slacks.

"J'ai besoin de toi," she whispered into his ear, catching the sensitive skin between her teeth just as her hand wrapped around the base of cock, the combination of both sending shocks up his spine. "J'ai pensé à votre bite toute la journée."

It was a new breed of torture, the way her melodic voice made the French language sound so sweet, so innocent, when her actual words were anything but. He slammed his fingers into her as far as he could go, crashing his lips over her to hold back the scream he knew she wouldn't be able to hold back and he could feel her starting to clench around his hold on her. She wasn't quite there, but she was close and he just wasn't done with her yet. He slid his fingers out of her, ignoring her whine of protest as he rolled his hips into her just as his dripping fingers found their way into her mouth. She licked them clean greedily, practically humming as she did. It didn't last long, her soft murmurs changing to a sharp gasp as he tugged harshly on her hair, forcing her to turn around away from him. Her legs spread for him automatically, her fingers splayed against the wall.

"Baise-moi," she urged him, and he didn't even wait a second as he buried himself into her in one swift stroke, watching as her hands balled into fists. His own were gripping her hips, guiding her back down onto him as fast as she could keep up.

"You've never been so wet," he muttered as he slammed into her again, relishing her strangled cries as she tried to stay quiet. "Your cunt's practically begging for it."

"Just fuck me," she pleaded as she began to tighten around him once more. "Please Blaine, let me come."

He groaned as the sound of her voice washed over him; she was trusting him to be in control, to take care of her, no questions asked, and it was such a fucking ridiculous thing to notice in the middle of all this, but he did nonetheless. Because he didn't have this anywhere else, only with her and that and the way she moaned his name and how she seemed to crash into him and her soft skin and her bruised lips and tangled hair and blackened eyes and just fucking everything that made him come undone, spilling into her as she came with him after one last deep thrust.

They stayed pressed against the wall for a moment, breaths mingling together as they came down. He could feel her leg shaking from his light grip on her hip and his arms circled around her waist for support. She leaned back into him, her lips pressing languid kisses to his neck until their nerves seemed to still, and their bodies began to function an a semi-normal basis again.

"You okay?" he whispered, his fingers playing with a button on her twisted white shirt.

She giggled, turning around and straightening her skirt as she leaned up on her toes to kiss him, a sweet moment in comparison to the way they usually threw each other around. "Perfect," she assured him. "And you?"

"Much better," he laughed, intertwining his fingers with hers for a moment before letting them fall. "My dad called again... I mean, if you were wondering why I- why now."

"I'm sorry," she said, her face falling into a frown. "You know what ever he said wasn't true."

"I know," he nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear because for some reason, he just could not stop touching her. "I just need you to remind me sometimes."

She smiled again, and kissed him briefly on the lips one last time before he took him by the hand and led him out of the room and through the empty library. She didn't let go of him until they reached the double entry doors, and even then she seemed to hesitate before finally letting go and heading down the hall to her class. He watched her leave, the way her hair would swing as she walked, the little bounce in her step, and he couldn't hold back the smile that formed as she turned the corner.

-:-

Rachel had a way of making everything seem easy; she studied and she passed without worry, she sang like it was the breath in her lungs and not like it was just something she had signed up to do, and she had no problem working in time with him during her day no matter what else she had going on. It was effortless and Blaine envied that of her. Because even if he couldn't stop seeing her, he also couldn't stop his studies, or his extracurriculars, or his family, or keeping up with Sebastian, and his body was screaming for a reprieve he just didn't have time for.

So as he sat in one of the Warblers' meetings – Rachel on one side, their knees flushed together, and his head leaning on Sebastian's shoulder on the other – he found himself fading in and out of consciousness no matter how hard he tried to pay attention to Wes' annual discussion on what they would wear to Regionals in only a few short weeks. He didn't know why it mattered; they always wore the same navy jacket with the red piping and the striped tie, but someone still managed to bring up alternative suggestions every year and according to Thad's handbook, they were required to open the floor up for debate until a majority came to an agreement.

Blaine was startled awake suddenly at the sound of Rachel's voice and the warmth of her thigh leaving his as she stood up. "I would like to open a forum," she announced, speaking formally as he had taught her when she had first started singing with the Warblers, "to discuss the distribution of solos and which member or members of the Dalton Academy Warblers would be chosen to represent us to the best of our ability."

"So opened," Wes said with a bang of his gavel before he gestured for her to continue.

"I understand that there is an audition process to be considered for a solo," she explained, "but I wasn't attending Dalton when those took place. While I do love Blaine's voice and believe we have a better than most chance of winning with him in the lead, I would also liked to be considered for my own solo. My talents can speak for themselves, I believe, although I would have no issue with undergoing any audition process the council would see fit."

And as if she couldn't help herself, she smiled that devilish smile of hers and winked in Wes' direction, causing their distinguished leader to blush as he flustered around with the notebook in front of him. "Thank you for your consideration," Rachel concluded, sitting back down as Blaine tried not to laugh.

"Thank you for your proposal," Wes muttered. "As solos are decidedly a council matter, we will discuss this behind closed doors, but I have to say that I, personally, am intrigued."

Blaine's mirth disappeared instantly; he couldn't care less about losing a solo, but that fact that Wes was even considering it was absolutely unexpected. He wasn't as bad as Thad was about Rachel – though in his defense, Thad had warmed to her slightly when he stopped complaining about her standing in the front of their formations – but Wes was a traditionalist when it came to the Warblers and allowing a girl, the only one in Dalton's history, a spotlight moment during competition was definitely not something Blaine would have ever expected Wes to consider.

"I think it's a good idea," Sebastian shouted over the din of murmurs going through the crowd. "A boy's choir with a female lead? That's got some balls; no pun intended."

Blaine felt like he was in some kind of fever dream as Rachel, somewhat startled by Sebastian's indirect compliment, gave his boyfriend a hesitant smile and not only did Sebastian return it, but he reached out and gave her a quick squeeze of her shoulder as a kind of congratulatory show. Maybe he really had fallen asleep, or maybe he had finally cracked under all the pressure and expectations placed on him, the way Sebastian always joked he would. But it didn't feel that way; he was alert and extremely aware that everyone else had lost their damn minds.

"What the hell was that?" he asked Wes as soon as everyone else left the meeting, somehow managing to shake both Rachel and Sebastian. "You're giving her a solo?"

"Now Blaine," Wes said and Blaine couldn't help but feel like he was being condescended to, "I understand that you worked hard to earn your place as our soloist, and the council would never take that away from you, but Rachel has presented an interesting idea that I feel needs further evaluation. She's talented and unexpected from us and just might be what pushes us over the edge to win Regionals this year."

There was logic in what Wes was saying, Blaine couldn't deny that, but there had been logic in Sebastian's suggestion that they have multiple soloists in each song, and in David's suggestion that they showcase their dancing in a more fluid manner, and neither of those had been warranted important enough for "further evaluation."

"Cut the shit Wesley," Blaine snapped, his eyes narrowing as the other boy lost his usual cool composure and began to sputter. "I don't care about the solos and neither do you and we both know it. You just want on Rachel's good side, same as half the other guys in this school. Trust me when I say you don't stand a chance with her. She'll eat you alive before you even knew she was there."

"That is absurd," Wes argued, "and if you don't take a moment to calm down and adjust your attitude, I may have to find you in violation of our sportsmanship creed and suspend all of your solos, Warbler Anderson."

Blaine glared at him and half of him just wanted to continue to yell at him, to force Wes to suspend him from the competition all together, but the group had put too much work into shaping the competition around him and if he didn't sing at Regionals, the news would get back to his father who would insist it was only further proof that Blaine was wasting everyone's time by focusing anywhere outside of academia. It was honestly almost worth it, but he could practically see Rachel's disappointed face and he held back, choosing to stalk off instead. The only thing on his mind was finding Rachel and working out wherever this burning rage wrapping its way around his heart had come from.

-:-

During the next practice, Wes announced that Rachel and Blaine would share a duet during the closing number while Blaine would continue to hold the rest of the solos for the competition, for "practical reasons". Rachel had been thrilled and instead of leaving with Blaine like she had since the very first day, she stayed behind to thank Wes on her own. She had only been gone an extra fifteen minutes, but she came back to their room as smug as he'd ever seen her and when he asked why, she told him she had a date – with Wes. He didn't let her say much after that, choosing instead to hoist her up on her desk as he bent to his knees until he was buried between her legs and his name was the only one she knew.

That didn't stop her from going out with Wes – not that it was supposed to – a few days later when classes were canceled for a teacher's work day. The students were supposed to use the time to study, but they were allowed to leave campus if they so chose to, and most everyone was treating it like a free day. It wasn't for Blaine, not really, as his debate team had agreed to host an extra two-hour practice to gear up for a showing they had next month, but after watching get ready for her date, he couldn't seem to find any kind of motivation whatsoever to actually get up and go.

"Honestly, you should take a break," she had said to him as she left, her hair falling in soft curls around her shoulders, matching the delicate curves of her hips and legs in her little blue sundress. "Not even Wes is studying today."

He didn't know how to ask her not to leave; couldn't even explain to himself why he didn't want her too, but he knew she wouldn't have listened to him either way. So he wished her a good time and propped his chemistry book up in the corner of his bed as he lay down and attempted to study some before his debate meeting. His eyes began to lose focus and he have the vague thought that he should at least set an alarm before he drifted off the sleep, dreaming of short skirts and silky hair in Paris.

He didn't know how long he slept, but sunlight was still streaming through the window when the door to his room opened with a creak. He turned slightly to see Rachel moved gracefully and quietly into the room, shutting the door without an additional sound. She kicked off her shoes, dropping her bag to the desk and started fumbling with the zipper at the back of her dress. He didn't even bother to look away as he might have once; after all he'd seen of her and all she'd seen of him, watching her undress was nothing.

Except there was something about it this time, as the dress fell to the floor with a quiet rustle and she stepped out it. She looked stunning even in the simple white underwear she wore, her tan skin practically glowing in contrast; and it wasn't even so much of a sexual thing as that he truly thought she was beautiful. She didn't even have to try; she was still an amazing sight to behold.

He wondered if Wes thought the same things about her, if she had shown him, if Wes would even appreciate it. And then it hit him: it shouldn't matter what Wes did or didn't do when it came to Rachel. Blaine shouldn't care. She wasn't anything to him other than a friend with whom he had fallen into some kind of fucked up agreement with; to use and be used. There weren't supposed to be any feelings or bitterness or jealousy. It wasn't supposed to be complicated.

He let out a tiny groan into his pillow, one he hoped she wouldn't hear, but when he opened his eyes again, she was looking right back at him with the deepest concern. "Hi," she whispered, slipping on a shirt that was far too big to be one of hers. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

He just shook his head, not trusting himself to say anything.

"Wes wanted to study," she explained, "or I wouldn't have come back so soon."

He nodded as if he understood, but he didn't, not really; all he could think of was if he had a real date with Rachel, he would have never cut it off short to study. Of course, he shouldn't have been on a date with Rachel. He shouldn't have anything to do with Rachel, but that didn't stop him. He wouldn't stop, especially not now and even though he knew it was wrong, that it wasn't the way things were supposed to be, he was so far tangled up in her that there was nothing he could do but try to hold on as tight as she would let him.

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he let out a deep breath, burrowing into his pillow as if to hide away for just a moment longer. He had meant to sit up, to try and engage with her, to talk to her like the friend he was supposed to be, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He just didn't want to know about her date, or if she had a good time, or if she would go out with Wes again. It felt like losing her and he wasn't ready for that to happen yet and he especially wasn't ready to face what that actually meant.

Something incredibly warm and fuzzy was tickling his nose and his eyes shot open only to see Rachel crawling into his bed with her pink monstrosity she called a blanket, tucking them both in as she curled into his side. She didn't try for anything else, didn't kiss him or slip her hand under his shirt or slid her knee between his legs. She just lay there, head laying on his chest as she sighed deeply, nuzzling closer to him before she went still against him. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her as he buried his face in her hair and let the comfort she was offering wash over him in a gentle wave.

She was humming as he drifted off to sleep, feeling for the first time that whatever Rachel was to him, it was so much more than the sex they limited themselves to. She was something deeper, something real, and he didn't have the words for it yet – except maybe "complicated" - and he would have to keep it from her but in that moment, at least he was honest with himself. At least one of them knew.

a/n: we write, you read, you review, and we write more (and hopefully quicker next time)