Prompt: Rachel's first party (including Santana and Puck)

"You ready?" Quinn asked, extending her arm to put the car in park. She unbuckled her seatbelt and swiveled her body so that she could face her girlfriend in the passenger's seat.

"I think so," Rachel nodded slowly after taking a deep breath. Biting her lip and looking nervously to Quinn, she tucked a piece of hair—which Quinn had gently curled for her only hours before—behind her ear and nodded again. "You promise to stay with me the whole night? And make sure I don't do anything stupid? And if I need to go outside for a break—"

"Then I'll personally escort you," Quinn chuckled, taking Rachel's hand and rubbing her thumb over the back. "You've been to parties before, Rach. This one won't be all that different." She offered a soothing smile and squeezed Rachel's hand.

"I've only ever been to Glee stuff," she pointed out. "This is like, a real party. It looks like half the school is here…"

"It'll be fun, I promise," Quinn smiled. "You'll have me there the entire night, and Puck's here, and of course Santana and Brittany as well. There's nothing to be nervous about, ok?"

"I just…I've heard so many stories from you about what these parties are like, and what can happen," she paused, "what has happened…to you, and…and.."

"Rachel, whatever happened to me at these parties was because I was irresponsible and fucked-up and went looking for any way to destroy myself. None of that is going to happen to you, because you're smart and confident, and because I'll be with you the entire time. I promise I won't leave you, and like we said—if it gets to be too much, we can always leave." Quinn wove her fingers between Rachel's and bent down to grab her purse. "So, are you ready? Because you look way too hot to just sit in a car all night," she winked, leaning over to steal a kiss.

Rachel giggled and cupped Quinn's cheek.

"I look nowhere near as good as you. Have I told you lately how much I adore that dress?"

"Only about five times in the last two hours," Quinn laughed, pulling away and shutting off the car. "I bought it for you, you know. I mean, with you in mind," she clarified. "I knew you'd like it."

"I like anything on you that makes it easier for me to picture you naked," Rachel raised her eyebrows and watched as Quinn's face turned beet red. She leaned over to kiss Quinn again, lightly scratching the back of her neck.

"Perv," Quinn mumbled into the kiss.

"Hmm, look who's talking," Rachel giggled, detaching her lips and gesturing toward her thigh, where Quinn's hand was climbing higher and higher.

Quinn shook her head and cleared her throat, patting Rachel's thigh once before getting out of the car. After they'd gotten the alcohol Quinn had brought out of the trunk, they made their way to the front porch, where they could already hear loud, pumping music and raucous shouting.

"Get ready, babe," Quinn raised her eyebrows and pushed open the door, taking Rachel's hand and leading her inside the house.

Chaos didn't even begin to cover the state of the room—there were more people than Quinn had expected, and it was impossible to see more than a foot in front of her face, as the room was jam packed with bodies in various states of dress and undress, moving around and yelling loudly. Quinn looked to Rachel, whose eyes had gone wide.

"Let's go find Puck and San, ok?" she yelled, gripping Rachel's hand tighter. When she saw Rachel give a nod, Quinn ducked into the crowd, pulling the shorter girl along with her. She heard a few people call her name, but by the time she had turned around to see who was calling, they had disappeared into the throng. Pushing her way through the mass of people, Quinn tugged Rachel into the adjacent room. The second they passed over the threshold, a group of people turned toward Quinn; a few of the guys in the group all nudged each other and started whispering loudly and laughing. Quinn hurriedly pulled Rachel away and into the next room.

"Found Puck," she said loudly, stepping into the kitchen and pointing to the mowhawked football played, bending over the cooler next to the fridge. "Puck!" she yelled, picking up her pace and rushing to his side.

"Quinn!" Puck cried, when he had seen who was yelling for him. Popping the cap of a Bud Light, he shoved it into Quinn's hands and then bent over to get another for himself. "This place is insane! Rick's already broken about two windows, and word is some freshman girls are already puking in the bathroom."

"It's eleven o'clock," Quinn rolled her eyes, taking a long swig from the beer Puck had handed her.

"I know," Puck nodded. "Fucking lightweights. Anyway, how are you fine ladies doing tonight?" He wiggled his eyebrows and gave them both very conspicuous once-overs. Quinn narrowed her eyes and pulled Rachel closer into her side.

"I'm still trying to get my bearings," Rachel laughed nervously, looking up at Quinn. "This is kind of my first big party," she admitted.

Quinn leaned over and kissed the top of her head, whispering, "you'll be fine," into her ear.

"Damn straight she will," Puck nodded sloppily, spilling his beer a little as he did so. "She's got Jew blood in her."

"What? Noah, I don't see what my religion has to do with—"

"Just ignore him, he's already hammered," Quinn rolled her eyes again and bent over the drink cooler, digging through the ice to find something Rachel might like.

"Ow ow! Bend over a little more, Fabray!" a boy in a varsity lacrosse jacket called from the corner, his eyes on Quinn's ass.

"Shut the fuck up, Matt," Puck shot at the boy, just as Quinn stood back up looking livid.

"Hold this," she growled, thrusting a cranberry juice into Rachel's hands before storming toward the boy who had yelled to her. Before the boy's alcohol-sodden brain could comprehend what was happening, Quinn's fist was wrapped around his shirt and she was leaning in toward his face. "If you don't keep your eyes to yourself for the rest of the night, I'm going to tell your girlfriend what you did with Rebecca Sommers at Santana's Fourth of July party. And she won't be nearly as forgiving as I'm being right now. So fuck you, and I hope your night turns out awful," she cursed, spinning around and walking back across the room to join Puck and Rachel, the latter of which had her jaw hanging open and heady eyes trained on Quinn.

"Well, that's that. He shouldn't be bothering me anymore tonight," Quinn sneered, taking the can back from Puck and turning to Rachel, who was watching her with a hungry look in her eyes.

"That was…God, you're sexy," she breathed out, wrapping her arms around Quinn's neck and pulling her down for a searing kiss.

After a few seconds they broke apart, and Quinn grinned widely.

"I didn't know that turned you on so much," she chuckled.

"You have no idea," Rachel groaned, unwinding her hands from Quinn's neck.

"I have an idea," Puck grinned, watching the two girls. "But I think I'd definitely like to have a better idea, if you know what I mean," he winked.

"If you're implying that you want us to make out simply for your pleasure, Noah…you're going to have to get a few drinks in me before I even consider it," Rachel said. "I'm assuming this is for me?" she asked in a softer voice, holding up the cranberry juice Quinn had forced into her hands.

"Yeah, if you'd like. I was thinking I could make you a mixed drink with the vodka we brought," Quinn offered.

"Yes please," Rachel nodded, hopping up onto one of the few empty bar stools in the kitchen and watching as Quinn finished off the beer Puck had handed her mere minutes before, and began to mix them some drinks.

"Ok, so you're going to want to drink this slowly," she advised, holding out he vodka and juice for Rachel to take. "Try not to finish it before the hour is up, ok? And let me know if it's too strong…I like it that way, but if it's too much for you I can add more juice."

Rachel nodded slowly, tilting the cup back and taking her first sip. She cringed.

"It tastes….like burning," she choked out once the liquor was down her throat.

"That's vodka," Quinn nodded, dumping a shot or two more into her own drink before taking Rachel's hand and nodding toward the door. "Let's go find San, ok?"

"Ok," Rachel grinned, already beginning to feel her face muscles relax as she took another sip. "Where did Noah go?" she asked, letting Quinn pull her through the kitchen and out toward the back porch.

"Probably to go find some desperate freshman to hook up with," Quinn shrugged. "He'll be back. Give it an hour and he'll show up with a joint and a wasted girl on his arm."

Rachel frowned, stopping to a halt and tugging on Quinn's hand. Feeling herself jolt backward, Quinn looked behind her, worry filling her as she glanced at Rachel's expression.

"What's wrong?"

Rachel didn't speak for a moment. When she did, her voice was soft and cracked.

"That used to be you, didn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Quinn was confused, her brain fuzzy from the beer and few sips of vodka.

"The wasted girl on his arm…"

"Oh. Um, well…yeah, sometimes," Quinn admitted quietly. There was a pause and then she added. "Can we not talk about that tonight, though?"

"Those guys in the living room when we walked in… they were all staring at you and whispering," Rachel breathed, her eyes moistening as she spoke. "I thought they were whispering about us being together but I just realized…they were whispering about you, weren't they? Because you—"

"Rachel, stop," Quinn pleaded, tightening her grip on Rachel's hand and attempting to pull her down the porch steps.

"Please just tell me the truth," Rachel whispered, her eyes cast down. "Which one of those guys did you sleep with?"

Quinn didn't speak for a minute; when she finally gathered herself, she took a deep breath and let go of Rachel's hand, sitting down on the wooden steps. The back door opened and closed, and a group of loud girls stumbled past them, but Quinn didn't look up. After a moment, Rachel sat down beside her and sighed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business and I didn't mean to ruin our night. Honestly, let's just forget—"

"The tall one."

"Pardon?"

"I slept with the tall one. His name was Brandon, or Henry, or something. He goes to Carmel High, and he's friends with some of the guys on the football team," Quinn started. "It was about six months ago, and it was a party at Puck's house."

"Stop, ok? I apologized, I don't want to hear—"

"You asked, Rachel," Quinn whispered, her voice harsh and painful as she looked up with tear-filled eyes. "You asked me to be honest. That night I had eight shots of tequila, two beers, and I was on a handful of Xanax that I stole from Puck's mom's medicine cabinet. I don't remember much, other than it hurting, and him calling me a desperate slut before pulling out and leaving the room."

"Quinn…"

"I woke up in Santana's bed the next morning and I had this," she held out her forearm and pointed to one of the thicker pink scars running the width of her wrist. "Santana said she found me bleeding in the bathroom and took me back to her house. She stayed up the entire night making sure I didn't die."

Quinn took a deep breath and wiped a few tears from her cheek.

"So there you go, Rachel. There's your honesty."

"Oh Quinn," Rachel breathed, wiping at her own cheeks before wrapping her arms around Quinn and holding her tightly. "That's never going to happen again, ok? I will never ever let that happen to you. I love you so much."

When she had taken a few cleansing breaths and calmed down a bit, Quinn nodded.

"Let's just forget it."

"Of course," Rachel conceded. She intended to bring everything up again once they were both sober, and allow Quinn to talk and get everything out, but she knew this wasn't the appropriate time. "We came to have fun, right? Let's go find Santana."

It didn't take them long to find the Latina girl. A short walk to the side of the house and they located her in a group of other cheer girls, a lighter in her hand and a smile on her face.

"Hey San," Quinn called, stepping up next to her.

"Q! Berry!" Santana yelled drunkenly, tripping slightly as she made to loop one arm around Quinn and the other around Rachel. "You bitches made it! What the fuck took you so long? Britt, Puck, and I got here like an hour ago."

"God, San, how much have you had to drink?" Quinn asked, noticing how she was basically carrying Santana's entire weight as the darker girl leaned on her.

"Fuck if I know," Santana shrugged, stumbling out of the other girls' grasps and taping one of the cheerleaders on the shoulder. "Hand it over," she nodded, taking a small baggie back from the girl and holding it out to Quinn. "Want some? Just bought an eighth off of Derek Hannigan—fucker ripped me off, but it was either that or blow him, and I'm not about that so…" she shrugged again, dangling the bad of pot in front of Quinn's face.

"I'll take a few hits if you're rolling, but not too much," Quinn said, gesturing to Rachel, whose eyes had slid a little more out of focus as she took another large gulp of her drink. "I'm with Rachel tonight."

"So? I'm not asking you to sleep with me, Q, I'm asking you if you want to smoke…"

"Yeah, and I'm not planning on getting too fucked up tonight, ok? I'm making sure Rachel's ok." Quinn shot back, narrowing her eyes at Santana.

"Fine, fine. Go grab Puckerman, he'll be pissed if he misses this."

Quinn nodded and turned to Rachel, who was still nursing her drink, her face becoming more relaxed and her eyes unfocused as she continued to drink.

"Will you be ok with San for a minute? I'm going to go get Puck so he can smoke with us."

"Mhmmm," Rachel hummed, smiling and standing on her tip-toes to kiss the tip of Quinn's nose. "Hurry back, ok?"

"Always," Quinn promised, grinning and hurrying off toward the house.

"You turned her into a sap, you know that, Berry?" Santana rolled her eyes, stumbling backward a little as she tried to lean back against the side of the house.

"And Brittany turned you into an even bigger one," Rachel countered, finishing her drink and placing the cup on the grass.

Santana burst out laughing and nodded, digging into her jacket pocket.

"Touche, short stuff." She pulled a few pieces of rolling paper from her pocket and opened the bag of weed. "I think I like you better when you're drunk. Or when I'm drunk. Fuck I don't even know. Hold this," Santana commanded, shoving the bag of weed into Rachel's hands before starting to roll the joint.

"It's so…green," Rachel giggled, tossing the bag up and down in the air. "I bet this cost you like, like a bajillion dollars," she laughed, throwing her head back.

"You're so fucking weird," Santana shook her head, looking up when she heard Quinn's footsteps a few feet away.

"Hey, love," Quinn hummed, sidling up to Rachel's side. Rachel dropped the bag of weed and threw her arms around Quinn's neck pulling her in for a bone-crushing hug.

"You were gone for way too long," she scolded, squeezing her girlfriend tightly.

"It was three minutes tops!" Quinn laughed. "But I'm glad to see you missed me."

"I always miss you, even when I'm just like, in the shower or something," Rachel mumbled, drunkenly.

"Serious mental images right now," Puck grinned, staring at Rachel, who just looked confusedly back at him.

"Mental images of what?"

"My hot little Jewish Princess in the shower," Puck snickered, moving his hand to trail down Rachel's back.

"Fuck off, Puck," Quinn snarled, swatting Puck's hand away and glaring at him. "She's not yours."

"Who's am I?" Rachel asked, still confused about what was going on.

"Jesus, Q, how much did you put in her drink?" Puck asked, eyeing Rachel as she swayed, still holding onto Quinn.

"Clearly a shot too much," Quinn laughed. "You ok, babe?"

"I'm wonderful," Rachel giggled. "I think I'm going to smoke."

"Hell yes!" Puck cheered, at the same time Santana said "Seriously?"

Quinn frowned a little and tugged Rachel's hand so that she could step off to the side with her.

"Are you sure, Rach? It's not really a good idea to mix drugs and alcohol, especially if it's your first time drinking more than a hard cider or two. And um, you've always been so against smoking…"

"I know, but I'm drunk and I want to," Rachel pouted. "Don't be mad, ok?"

"Being drunk isn't an excuse for making bad decisions," Quinn pointed out. "I should know."

"But I have you here to look out for me. Please? Please let me at least try a little?"

Quinn sighed and kept her eyes on Rachel, her resolve growing weaker with every minute Rachel held that adorable pout on her face.

"Fine, fine, but only a few hits. Chances are since it's your first time, you won't even feel anything. And then you're sticking to vodka and juice for the rest of the night, got it?"

"Yes mom," Rachel begrudged.

"Ok, ok, but like… I love drunk Berry," Santana guffawed from a few feet away. "She's got balls."

"Santana I actually think my distinct lack of balls is the reason Quinn and I have sex all the time."

"Rachel!" Quinn cried, moving to cover Rachel's mouth with her hand.

Santana burst into laughter again, and Puck's eyes grew wide.

"All the time?" he asked, and Quinn could've sworn she saw a bit of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. She groaned and uncovered Rachel's mouth.

"Maybe you shouldn't have any more to drink tonight," she said, though she chuckled even so.

Rachel had the decency to look slightly sheepish, though the look was short lived, because Santana was holding the joint in front of her face.

"Want the first hit? In honor of it being your first time?" she slurred, shaking the lighter to make sure it had enough fluid.

"Um, I don't really know how…" Rachel confessed, biting her lip.

"I'll take the first," Quinn said, "You can watch me, ok Rach? Watch what I do and then just do the same. Since we're not smoking out of a bowl, it'll be a lot easier on you. Just light the tip," she instructed, watching as the paper caught fire. "And take a really slow breath in. Don't take too much too quickly or you're going to burn your throat. Then hold it in for a few seconds and blow out the smoke." Quinn demonstrated a few times and then held out the joint for Rachel, who took it tentatively.

"Will you light it for me?" Rachel asked, fumbling with the lighter, her coordination marred by the alcohol. Nodding, Quinn took the lighter from her girlfriend, waited for her to put the joint to her lips, and then lit the tip. Rachel, inexperienced as she was, quickly sucked in an impressive amount of smoke and then promptly blew out, coughing uncontrollably.

"You're wasting it," Santana groaned, taking the joint back from Rachel and taking another hit on her own.

"It's ok, don't listen to her," Quinn soothed, rubbing Rachel's back as she coughed. "It takes some getting used to. I should've brought you out some water…" she frowned.

"Yeah, no worries, Rach. When I started back in fifth grade, I burned my throat every time," Puck said, taking a drag from the joint.

"F-fifth grade?" Rachel choked out incredulously, after she had finally stopped coughing.

"The delinquencies start early in the Puckerman family," Puck shrugged, passing the joint off to Quinn.

"Do you want another one? We could try shotgunning it, so that it'll burn less," Quinn offered Rachel.

"Shotgunning?"

"Quinn just wants an excuse to make out with you," Santana elbowed her best friend in the ribs. "Shotgunning is when she takes a drag, holds the smoke in, and then you two lock lips and she blows the smoke into your mouth for you to breathe in."

"I don't need an excuse to make out with my girlfriend," Quinn protested, but smiled all the same. "Do you want to try that, Rach?"

"Mmmm, yes," Rachel giggled, moving to face Quinn.

Once the smoke was in Quinn's lungs, she leaned over and pressed her lips to Rachel's gently blowing out and feeling the smoke exit her body and enter Rachel's.

"It's warm," Rachel breathed, once she'd blown the smoke out of her own mouth.

"You're warm," Quinn murmured, nuzzling her forehead against Rachel's. "Want to go back inside now? We can get another drink and see what's going on in there."

"Ok," Rachel agreed, waving goodbye to Santana and Puck before following Quinn back inside. The second they stepped over the threshold, the noise level increased drastically—where there were maybe twenty people outside, there were at least a hundred inside the house. Sidestepping a boy who had fallen and was drunkenly trying to stand back up, Quinn led Rachel back into the kitchen where she had hid her bottle of vodka in a cabinet under the sink for safekeeping.

"You're getting way less this time," Quinn chuckled, watching as Rachel swayed and almost missed the stool on which she was attempting to sit.

"But it was so yummy," Rachel hummed, cradling her chin in her hands and batting her eyelashes at Quinn.

"Yeah and your dads will kill me if they see you have a hangover tomorrow when they get home from their vacation."

"It's funny how scared of them you are," Rachel teased, hooking her legs around Quinn's legs and pulling her closer.

"Rach! You almost made me spill this," Quinn berated, quickly finishing Rachel's drink and handing it over to her. "Drink slowly. Got it?"

"You're one to talk! How much have you had so far?"

"I've built up a higher tolerance," Quinn pointed out, "and I'm drinking mixed drinks with you—normally I just take shots."

"Oh," Rachel nodded, Quinn's words not really registering well with her intoxicated brain. "Have I told you tonight how amazingly hot you look in that dress?"

Quinn burst out laughing and resisted the urge to remind Rachel that this was now the sixth time she'd said just that.

"Hmm, no. Tell me again," she said instead.

"Well you're like, incredibly hot. You're probably the hottest thing I've ever seen, actually."

"Probably?" Quinn gasped in mock offense.

"Well I mean, I did see Wicked with Idina Menzel…" Rachel giggled.

"Ugh, babe that's so creepy. I know you have a crush on her, but it weirds me out because you two look like clones."

"Oh my god. Quinn!?" Rachel gasped.

"Oh my god, what!?" Quinn teased, reaching out to play with the ends of Rachel's curled hair.

"Imagine if I had a clone, I could do that thing you like with my tongue and at the same time I could also be sucking on your n—"

"RACHEL!" Quinn yelled, her eyes growing wide as she turned a deep shade of red.

"It's… it's true though," Rachel tilted her head to the side, looking confused. "Isn't it?"

"It is, love, it is. But you can't just say things like that in public," Quinn chuckled.

"Oh. Are you mad?" Rachel pouted, looking worried and apologetic.

"Not at all. I think you're an adorable drunk, though."

"Do you want to go back outside?" Rachel asked.

"Not really. Do you?"

"No. I'd rather go upstairs."

"Upstairs?"

"You know…isn't that what people say during parties when they want to get away and go have sex?" Rachel asked, seriously.

"Rachel Berry, what has gotten into you?" Quinn teased, already feeling her face begin to warm.

"Hopefully you," Rachel smirked, bounding off the stool and pulling Quinn into the next room and up a flight of stairs. They stumbled into one of the guest bedrooms, Rachel so impatient that she had her entire outfit off by the time Quinn locked the door and turned around.

"My god, I love you," Quinn shook her head before backing Rachel up and falling back with her onto the bed.