Hi helllllo my peoples. This chapter is huge. And I hope you enjoy it! I adore Christmas. And I believe this chapter displays that. XO Dylan
December - Junior Year
I've Never Been Here Before. Me Either, But Isn't It Beautiful?
To Quinn, Christmas meant her mom on the piano, Frannie on her cell phone, and her dad slaving over a turkey. Christmas meant… chaos. For whatever reason, the Fabray household never failed to be a nucleus of energy all the way from Thanksgiving to New Year's Eve.
It exhausted her.
Frannie couldn't text fast enough. Her mom never ran out of carols to badly pound out on the piano. And her dad always, always, always used the electric knife to carve the turkey.
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzzzz.
"That's a good juicy one. Quinn come taste!"
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzzzz.
"We wish you a Merry Christmas. We wish you, ugh, oops, a, a Merry Christmas!"
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzzzz.
Click click click. Click click click. Click click click.
"Haha! You'll never believe what Matt just sent me."
"What?" Quinn would ask her.
"You wouldn't get it."
Click click click. Click click click. Click click click.
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzzzz.
Oh with the noises! It drove her endlessly insane. She needed other noises. She needed slightly less annoying noises, like Rachel!
She picked up her phone. Maybe Rachel could say something Frannie wouldn't get and then Quinn could flaunt it.
Oo, how thrilling. Who was she kidding? Frannie didn't get half the stuff Rachel said anyway. Ugh, was it seven yet and time to go to the Berrymen's? She looked at her watch: 11:03am. Christ Almighty, this Christmas sucked.
And then the doorbell rang.
She shot to her feet, praying the sound would bring refuge and not more annoyances. She needed refuge, please be refuge. She gallivanted to the door, swung it open with a heave and a hope, and landed on-
"Fred!"
She leapt three feet into his strong arms. He gasped out a happy chuckle and hugged tightly, her feet dangling above the ground. "I am so happy to see you! How was your Christmas? How's your son? Are you working? No wait, it's Christmas! You want to come in? You cold? We have-"
"Miss Fabraaaay," he drawled and plopped her down on the snowy front stoop. She bounced between her socked feet as her toes froze by the second. "Thank you for the offers, but I'm on a delivery."
"On Christmas? Fred! This is when you tell your boss no."
"If your boss was one Miss Berry, would you tell her no?"
Quinn lit up. Rachel had a delivery for her!
On Christmas! By Fred! Her favorite person!
"What is it? What is it?" she begged.
He beamed and thrust a note out to her.
Her excitement fell. A note? That's it? Rachel Berry's grand Christmas delivery was a note? And not even on stationary?
"Please tell me something is going to jump out of it," Quinn muttered, eyes narrowed and not impressed.
"I don't ask questions."
"What's it say?"
"Nor do I read my client's mail."
"Fred."
"Miss Fabray," he smiled and nudged the note closer. She rolled her eyes, tugged it out of his hand and folded it open.
Merry Christmas, gorgeous. You're having sex with me tonight.
(Whether you like it or not.)
(I promise you'll like it.)
(I googled stuff.)
(Tell Fred thanks!)
XO
Quinn's head flushed with blood. She could faint, like seriously faint.
Her knees jello'd out from under her and she sat down in the snow.
"What's it say?"
"She says we're having sex tonight," Quinn muttered, eyes phased and wandering over the bright snow blanketing their neighborhood.
Fred snapped hands to his ears and averted his gaze.
"Miss Fabray," he chided.
"What?" she scoffed at him.
"I don't need to hear that. So, I'm going to go. But here, I got you and Miss Berry a present," he said and held out a small white box.
He bought them a present?
The wetness soaked through her socks and she really, honestly, couldn't tell if she still had toes down there. Her ass fell numb as well and that, that was interesting. She smiled and delicately took the box from his hands, his pearly eyes shining over her, and opened it. A bright pink Christmas ball ornament gleamed colors over her face.
"Take it out," he said.
She reached in, grabbed the hook, and pulled it from the tissue. Sunlight beamed through it, illuminating every piece of sparkling glitter.
"It's beautiful, and, and bedazzled," she cooed as she spun it around. "Rachel will love it, Fred!" And as it turned, an inscription rotated into view. "Mrs. & Mrs. Berry-Fabray's First Christmas. Love, Fred," she read.
"Alphabetical, of course, ma'am. When you two get married, you promise you'll hang it on your first tree?" Quinn's tears pooled and she choked back a happy cry to release a smile and give him a nod.
"You think we'll get married?" she asked, attempting to hide the hope laced through her words.
"I do so hope."
"I'd have to be the one to propose, wouldn't I?" she huffed.
"I think you'd do a fine job, ma'am," he smiled. She couldn't contain the childlike euphoria threading over her features. Her cheeks blushed, her eyes glowed, and her lips curled into extreme happiness.
"I promise, Fred. I mean, to hang it on our first tree. But you have to promise something in return."
"What's that?"
"To come see our first tree."
He looked down at the kind little blonde standing before him, clothes ruffled, hair a mess, but face a glowin'. He knew he wouldn't be around by then as much as the sight of their first tree, home, and marriage would please him. His time was coming; it was inevitable.
But she didn't need to know that.
"I'll be there," he whispered and watched Quinn's smile beam over the bright pink ornament in her hand. There it was: happiness. "Good luck tonight. Use, use protection?" he giggled out with a clueless shrug, gave a nod and descended the steps. "And Merry Christmas," he hollered over his shoulder with a wave as snow drizzled around him.
He was a sight for sore eyes, any way you dreamt it.
"Merry Christmas, Fred," she sighed.
Maybe this Christmas was shaping up to be something special after all.
She unfolded the paper in her hands again.
You're having sex with me tonight.
Crap. She needed to shower. She needed to shower, shave, and grow some knowledge, courage, and rico suave moves, like now.
And Google. Google! She needed to print out the Google and then scan it into her brain, because tonight, tonight she'd lose her virginity to Rachel Berry.
Christ, what was the world coming to?
Rachel's voice boomed from the other side of her door as Quinn stopped her descent down their hallway. She smiled and pressed her ear to the wood. The bing bongs, jingles and overall joy pouring through it sent butterflies loose in her stomach. Suddenly her hands shook, her mouth dried, and her thoughts failed to form any sort of progression of thought.
She rotated, leaned back against the wall for support and slid down it. Her pained butt hit the plush carpet with a thud and she cursed herself for thinking it wise to sit on snow earlier- in only pajama pants.
She crossed her ankles and threw her head back against the wall.
Tonight was the night.
What was she doing?
She sighed, brought her knees up, and dropped her head to them. Rachel's vibrant, bubbly voice danced over her ears through the door and all she wanted was to go in there and show the girl how much she loved her, but what if…
What if it was awful?
What if she couldn't find things?
What if she threw up when she fully… you know?
"Quinn, hun, what are you doing out here?"
She jerked her head up and drew a complete, utter blank for any sort of non-sexual answer to Leroy's question. And then he read her like a book, eyes twitching between her face and Rachel's door, music still flooding from the other side.
She opened her mouth to say something- anything- but nothing came out. It smacked close with a pop. He dropped his voice, knelt at her feet and bore into her eyes.
"Did you have a fight?"
She shook her head.
"Did you have a bad Christmas at your house?"
She shook her head.
"Are you feeling sick?"
She shook her head.
"Are you still in love with Rachel?"
She shook- she nodded fiercely.
"Good. Then I'm going downstairs because you're confusing me. And if all you're doing is sitting in our hallway, well, frankly, it bores me," he said and stood, hands on hips. "Anything else you'd like to add before I find something more interesting to do?"
She gulped. Did he know? Was he testing her?
Could he give her advice?
Who was she kidding, this was Serial Killer Leroy; he would murder her in her sleep if he knew she would be deflowering his daughter later this evening in the darkness of the cruel, cruel, cruel, devious night.
Oh god.
What was she doing?
"I'm fine."
"I didn't ask if you were fine. I asked if there was anything else you'd like to add before I walk away and leave you just… sitting… in my hallway like some emo kid," he repeated and arched an eyebrow.
"You know the word emo?" she giggled.
He shook his head in disbelief.
"I'm walking away from you now."
"Merry Christmas, Leroy," she shouted to the back of his head as he descended the stairs. He threw up a dismissive wave and she chuckled. Merry Christmas indeed, Leroy.
She sighed and dropped her head back to her knees.
Ugh, now she had to stand up and go into the room. She had to. What if Rachel had plans? What if it was now? What if Rachel was laid up on her bed, naked, and spread, eager, and oh my-
"Quinn?"
"Ah!"
She hit the floor.
"Ah!"
Rachel hit the wall.
"Jesus!"
Quinn gasped into the carpet.
"Quinn!"
Rachel clutched at her heart.
"Holy hell, Rachel!"
"Oh my god, my heart," she gasped, holding her chest and leaning into the doorframe. "What are you doing out here?"
"Why did you scare me?"
"I just said your name!"
"Like a little freaking leprechaun sneakin' up on people," Quinn muttered and crawled to her feet. She stretched her arms out, brushed out her shirt and finally looked up, up and straight into searing eyes.
Uh, what had she said?
"What?"
"Little freaking leprechaun?" Rachel growled, crossed her arms, and burned holes in the blonde. Quinn gulped and looked for any possible explanation. Of course, there was none.
"I'm sorry?"
"You're making it very difficult to want to have sex with you tonight."
Quinn whipped to the stairs in search of any parents.
"Rachel! Shhh."
"What are you, five?" she snapped, gripped Quinn's forearm and yanked her into the bedroom. "Get in here and hush."
Awareness rolled over Quinn the moment the door shut behind them.
Was it now? Was it time?
Rachel walked past her and stopped the music.
It was now. It was time.
"Movie?"
Or it was movie time. Was it movie time? God, why could she not control her thoughts and, and her fingers. Why were her fingers trembling?
She shoved them into her jeans pockets and brought her eyes to Rachel. The brunette looked just the same as a minute ago: no worries, no thoughts, no hints across her face, no smirks, no eyebrow arcs, nothing.
"Um, what movie?" Quinn finally spoke.
"Love Actually? It's my favorite Christmas movie. Have you seen it?" Rachel asked with a grin and walked to the television. Quinn awkwardly stepped sideways out of her path, hands still shoved into her pockets and eyes still finding the room's decorations all too interesting.
"I think so."
"You think so?" Rachel laughed. "Baby, are you okay? You look kind of pale. Did, um, Fred come to see you today?"
Yes, he came!
Why did she think Quinn was pale and shivering and awkward?
"Maybe."
"So you got my note?"
"Maybe."
"Did you read my note?" Rachel purred and walked back over to the gargoyle blonde. She snuck her arms in the slits between Quinn's arms and sides and looped them around her back. She locked in tight and pulled her close.
"Maybe," Quinn murmured and bit her lip. Rachel fought back a giggle.
"Look, Bee, nothing has happened that you don't want to happen."
"That's not what your note said."
"My note was a bit sarcastic."
"You're never sarcastic," Quinn pointed out. Rachel cocked her head and thought on it. The girl was right. She was never sarcastic.
"Okay, so I wasn't being sarcastic, but I'm telling you the truth now. No pressure here, okay?" Rachel assured and leaned forward to give her a slight peck. Quinn softened in her arms.
"Okay," she whispered. "So Love Actually?"
"Love Actually," Rachel smiled. She detached herself, pranced over to the tv and started their pre-dinner movie.
An hour into it, Quinn still couldn't relax. Rachel had curled into her side, was currently caressing her arm and neck, and smelled like, like, like heaven. She smelled like what heaven would smell like in a chocolate factory made of flowers and doused in vanilla… in sunshine.
"You smell nice," Quinn whispered and placed a kiss to her head.
"I shower often."
"Yeah, I showered before I came."
"Did you, um, you know…" Rachel stuttered, eyes locked on lobster children in the movie.
"Did I what?"
"You know…"
"Nooo, I don't know…"
"You know…"
"Use your words."
"Never mind," Rachel huffed and flopped on her other side, backing into Quinn. She reached behind her, grabbed an arm and pulled it over. Quinn swallowed her whole and Rachel felt at home, like always, in the girl's arm.
Quinn looked over her, those big brown, insecure eyes on the television and beautiful smile upturned in an amused grin.
"I love this scene," Rachel murmured.
Quinn's eyes never left her.
"Me too."
Later after dinner, with Quinn's head in her lap and a book in her hands, they stretched sideways across their favorite over-stuffed loveseat in the Berrymen's living room. The eggnog flowed plentiful and the two sets of parents held nothing back. Something about Christmakuh celebrations just did it for them, apparently.
Her mom danced with Hiram around the kitchen, every so often grabbing plates to clear the dinner table. She stuck to classic carols and H would pop in to harmonize some favorite Jewish choruses over hers.
It was a hot mess if Quinn had ever seen one.
But it was Christmas - and Hanukah- and with Rachel cradling her head and Wuthering Heights in her lap, life couldn't get much better. The fire crackled on the opposite wall and her dad sat with Leroy on the couch adjacent, discussing everything from Russell's new business to Leroy's landscape design.
Snooze fest if Rachel had ever seen one.
She shimmied further into the couch beside Quinn, rotated a little to fully lie next to her and then dropped her head on the blonde's shoulder.
"You comfy?" she asked and snuggled tighter. Quinn let her, because who wouldn't? She brought her book closer with her right hand and searched Rachel's out with her left. Their fingers laced in perfect comfort and Rachel's eyes fluttered shut. Quinn resumed reading, perfectly content with her Christmas love-story in hand and the love of her life at her side.
"Come out of the clouds, Q. Come be with me instead," Rachel murmured and snuggled closer. Quinn dropped her book and shifted towards her.
"I'm here."
"Read to me," she whispered.
"But you hate this book."
"No, I don't."
"You do. You've even used the word hate," Quinn giggled.
"Not when it's from your lips," she whispered, just barely, eyes still shut and pulse slowing. Quinn's heart drowned in the love, the easy, peaceful, and beautiful love resting beside her.
"You're not going to like it," she murmured.
"Read me something I'll like then."
Rachel reached her left arm out, lacing it softly around Quinn's stomach. She needed her closer, ever closer. Quinn's brain fluttered to mush and it took everything in her to focus on thinking about her favorite parts, parts Rachel would like. She turned through the pages and landed on one of the many pages with notes in the margin.
"This is one of my favorite quotes. It's, it's classic love in the most powerful sense. You can understand that, I think."
Rachel looked at Quinn. Their eyes locked in fiery understanding and then she dropped her head back to the blonde's shoulder. Her eyes fell closed and life seemed… right.
And then Quinn read.
"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it."
"Girls! Reading at a party is for nerds!" Judy wailed as Hiram twirled her through the dining room. "Come dance with your favorite mother!"
Quinn rolled her eyes and let the book fall across her stomach.
Rachel reached a shaken finger out and traced over a few lines of text. She needed them imprinted in her soul forever. She needed more of them, from Quinn's lips and Quinn's lips only.
"You're my only mother!" Quinn yelled.
"All the more reason I'm the favorite!" she laughed. The girls failed to contain their chuckles and watched Hiram spin Judy directly into Leroy.
She erupted with laughs and Leroy pulled her tight, tipped his leg and dipped her. She cocked back up with a smile that Quinn hadn't seen in months.
"Oh my, I haven't danced in ages! Russell, come here and dance with me," she slurred, waving her hands in euphoria over her head and shifting her weight from foot to foot to the rhythm of the soft, warm music in the background.
The sounds pulled over them and Rachel grinned at Quinn.
"I love your mother."
"She's your mother now, too," Quinn stated, serious and sure. The announcement hit Rachel like the blonde meant for it. She kept her gaze on Rachel as she took in the meaning, never once letting her eyes stray away. She needed Rachel to know she wasn't saying it off the cuff and she wasn't taking it lightly.
Rachel held back the tears she felt coming and redirected instead.
"Did I miss our wedding?" she chirped with a grin. Quinn laughed and snuggled closer.
"No, but guess what?"
"What?"
"We have an ornament."
"We have a what?" Rachel beamed.
"Fred gave us a present," Quinn winked. "A bright pink, almost bedazzled, Christmas ball ornament." Rachel gasped and slapped hands to her cheeks while snuggling further into the crook of Quinn's arm.
"No!"
"Yes."
"Pink!"
"Mhm."
"And bedazzled!"
"You bet," Quinn laughed. "Clearly he should've given it to you."
"How marvelous!"
"Guess what it says?"
"It speaks?" she gasped. Quinn pulled judgmental eyes over to her.
"Rachel. It's not magical. It's an ornament."
"You never know with bedazzles. They're special."
"Stop yourself," Quinn smirked. "On the side of it, it says Mrs. and Mrs. Berry-Fabray. First Christmas. Love, Fred."
Rachel's jaw fell and her shiny, glistening eyes widened.
"I'm first?"
Quinn gasped.
"That's what you focus on!" she huffed and rolled off the couch. She hit the floor with a thud and then crawled to her feet.
"I'm kidding! It's beautiful," Rachel laughed and grabbed the girl's book off the couch. "Come sit with me. I'll read to you."
"I don't want you to read to me," she scoffed and turned to the others. Her mom skipped around with Hiram, both still dancing and jiving, and Leroy and her dad bantered over… god, she didn't even know… were they drunk? "Dad, are you drunk?"
"Quinnie!" he boasted, as if she'd just arrived.
"I've been right here, Dad."
"Hey watch this! Remember this?" he called out, stood, placed palms on his stomach, released a deep threading ho, ho, ho and shook his belly.
Oh, god, kill her now.
"Russell! You're jiggling!" Judy called from the kitchen.
"Well Santa does jiggle, Jude. It's part of his charm," he derided.
"We're going outside," Quinn announced, shot Rachel a glare, and then paced to the door after grabbing her favorite green beanie off the hat rack. Rachel begrudgingly rolled off the couch and followed her love.
She stepped out the front door and watched as Quinn kicked snow off the top stoop to carve them out a seat.
"We can sit on the snow, you know. Dad's gonna be mad you're messing up his porch perfection," Rachel said.
"Not today. My ass can't take it today. It's still raw from earlier."
Ugh, what?
"Um, you need to explain that because I have really horrifying and troubling images streaming through my overactive mind right now."
Quinn whipped around to the brunette standing against the door, oversized Wicked sweatshirt and loose jeans draped over her. Her heated retort evaporated and she smiled.
"You look adorable right now," she said instead. Rachel glowed.
"I'm always adorable," she boasted with a smile.
"And there you go ruining it." Quinn turned with a giggle and sat down on the top step. The dark neighborhood settled over them and Rachel joined her girlfriend, lacing her left arm through Quinn's and resting her head against her shoulder.
"The lights are pretty," she murmured, eyes raking over the Beasley's decorations along with the two houses across the street.
"Yeah," she said and brought her fingers to Rachel's.
Silence fell over them. The beauty brought many avenues of distractions between snowmen and lights and trees and families through windows. Rachel couldn't find anything she wanted to look at last. There was always something more.
Kinda like how she felt about Quinn. There was always something more to love and adore and laugh about. They were a never-ending rollercoaster of joy somehow.
How, really, she didn't know. None of it made sense to her still, even though it felt like it made perfect sense. And now Quinn was calling Judy her mother and their dads were getting along and they had an ornament and a hyphened name.
And they would have sex- at some point. Tonight, tomorrow, a year from now, whenever, but it would happen. She felt like she needed a second heart to contain all the love she had flowing from it. When did life get so… traditionally, but unconventionally perfect?
And what would happen if it ended?
"Love," she whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Do you ever- first, don't take this the wrong way- but do you ever think about what would happen if, if something happened?" Rachel mumbled.
Quinn leaned back to take in the shy, vulnerable girl.
"What do you mean?"
"What will happen if, if we don't last?" she asked and let her eyes find the snowman she'd built earlier. She'd put a blonde wig over it with green grapes as eyes. It was perfect. She was perfect.
"I've never thought about it."
"Really?" Rachel smiled.
"Yes, really. It's never crossed my mind that we wouldn't last. And, but, well I guess if something ever happened, I'd just have to revert to Wuthering," she grinned. Rachel cocked an eyebrow.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah."
"And what does Wuthering say about us?"
"It's more so what they say about forgiveness when you hurt someone you love more than yourself," she murmured. Rachel let the warm, fuzziness of the moment roll over her.
"Go on."
Quinn beamed, ever excited to talk about her books.
"They say, 'Kiss me again, but don't let me see your eyes. I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer- but yours. How can I?' And I think that says it all," she said with a quick, final wave of her hand.
"As if to say I forgive you for hurting me, but could never forgive myself- or whoever- for hurting you? Right?"
"Exactly. I think that's what true love is," Quinn said with a smile. "If I ever hurt you, I'd never forgive myself. If you ever hurt me, I'd forgive you instantly. Always know that, okay?"
"I won't ever hurt you."
"Just say okay," Quinn whispered. "Please."
"Okay, Bee. Okay," she sighed and leaned into the blonde to slide her lips across Quinn's, slowly pulling her closer. The blonde's thick beanie pressed into her forehead as their mouths pulled over each other's.
They kissed softly and innocently.
And then the innocence became needy.
And the need became desperation.
And the desperation became arousal.
And then Rachel crawled into Quinn's lap, ready to feel all of the above and all at once and all over.
"Make love to me," she purred.
The blonde slipped her tongue into Rachel's mouth, eager to love on anything and everything inside. Her hands wrapped around Rachel's thighs, hips, and then ass where they settled. She dug nails into her jeans and couldn't pull her close enough.
"But we're on the porch," Quinn husked.
"I mean inside. Now. Please. I just-"
"I know," Quinn murmured and sucked Rachel's tongue back into her mouth.
"You're never close enough. I always feel like I want more, but there's never more and I always feel-"
"Stop," Quinn groaned and tried to pull those mumbling lips back onto hers.
"I'm so tired of wondering and dreaming and watching you touch yourself when I know it should be-"
"Rachel, shut up," she tried again, pulling the girl's lips back onto her mouth. Rachel yanked back.
"I think we're ready and we have an ornament and I have a mother and you'll always forgive me and-"
"Rachel. Kiss me. Just shut up and kiss me," Quinn growled, slapped her fingers around each side of Rachel's jaw and held her tightly in place, assaulting all the many specks of wonder she could. She kissed her top lip, her bottom, her dimples, her chin, and when she got bored, she craned her head sideways and delved inside, repeating her exploration over every spectacular thing inside.
She tasted like heaven as much as she smelled like heaven.
And this time, Rachel let her have her way. She melted into the feeling of Quinn needing nothing but to be kissing her. She loved feeling the blonde's thighs clench underneath her. She loved feeling those hands paw at anything they could grip.
God, she just loved her. She loved her so very much. She loved her in the forever kind of love her way. She loved her in the "we'll be grey and old and crazy together in a nursing home" kind of way.
"Promise we'll be crazy old women together," she said between deep, probing kisses.
"I promise."
"Promise you'll wash my hair," Rachel murmured and nipped at her.
"I promise."
"Promise you'll tell our children stories of the star, Rachel Berry."
"I promise."
"Promise we'll have children," Rachel giggled.
"I promise."
"Promise me everything."
"I promise, love."
"Does the word promise sound weird to you now?" Rachel mumbled.
Quinn erupted in laughter, falling back to her elbows on the wooden porch. Rachel straddled her hips and laughed loudly, happiness in her eyes and a smirk on her lips. She slid a bit lower and ever so subtly ground her hips down.
Quinn sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and pushed up.
"Are you nervous?" Rachel asked.
"About?"
"You know what about."
"Yes."
"Me, too."
"I thought you googled everything," Quinn taunted with a smile and pushed up again. Rachel's chest rose with a sultry inhale and Quinn pushed again.
"You can only learn so much without hands on experience," Rachel mumbled and let her eyes fall shut as Quinn pushed up again.
"Where do you want your hands first?"
Rachel opened her eyes and locked on Quinn. Could they do… stuff… on the porch? She shot a quick glance to her left, clear, and then to her right-
Oh.
Mrs. Beasley.
The woman stared directly at them with a huge grin on her face. Rachel's face flushed red and she de-straddled Quinn. The blonde caught the reaction and pulled her attention to the left.
Oh.
Mrs. Beasley.
"Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukah, girls," she called across the yard and smiled.
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Beasley," they growled through gritted teeth. The woman turned her gaze away and went back to rocking.
"Inside?" Quinn whispered. Rachel nodded and they shot to their feet, gave the old lady a friendly wave, and then piled inside the door.
Two seconds later, they stumbled upon their parents huddled around the coffee table: Judy held a pitcher of eggnog, Russell wore an over-sized red t-shirt of Leroy's, Hiram donned a Menorah hat, and Leroy sang carols… to himself.
"Oh… my… god," Rachel muttered.
"What the-"
"Girls! Come join the party!" Judy shouted and shot to what looked like new legs underneath her. She wobbled left, wobbled right, and then landed in front of them, two glasses in hand and a lopsided smile on her face. "I just love you two." She turned back to her posse. "Don't you guys just love these two?"
"We just love these two," they mumbled with drunken voices, none of them turning to look, and then Judy poured two glasses.
"Have a seat and join us!"
"Mom, we're gonna go up-"
"Not acceptable," her dad barked. "Nope. No upstairs. Not on Christmakuhnah. Come sit! Come celerrrbrate," he drawled out.
"Oh Jesus," Quinn muttered. Rachel's face fell and they dragged their feet over to the table. Hiram pulled Rachel down beside him and Judy dragged Quinn over to her edge.
Now they weren't even beside each other anymore?
And they had to sit through- what were they even playing? Ugh, it would be a long night, long night that wasn't even remotely going as they hoped.
Four hours later, the bedroom door shut behind them and it sounded like trumpets, birds, and newborn kittens. Also, angels.
"I cannot believe our parents," Rachel moaned, exhausted, and leaned back against the door. Quinn fell back beside her, eyes tired, extremely annoyed, and overall more disappointed than she'd ever been in her life.
"No Christmakuh party next year," she muttered. "Our parents are not allowed to hang out anymore."
"They already have our New Year's, Spring Break, birthdays, and summer trips planned, Bee."
"We can move."
"To Africa."
"Sarcasm?" Quinn giggled.
"Thought I'd give it a try," she smiled.
"I'm sorry tonight didn't go as planned," she whispered and lolled her head right to rest on Rachel's.
"It's two in the morning after a day of laughing, our parents are passed out, and we have an ornament; I'd say my Christmas went pretty well. No regrets."
"None?"
"No, sweetheart," Rachel assured. "Let's change and go to sleep. We can talk more about… it… tomorrow."
Quinn sighed, pressed a kiss to her lips and nodded. They parted with relieved grins and Rachel headed to her dresser.
"Can you believe today?" she giggled.
Quinn thought back over the day, all the way back to the annoyances of the bzzz bzzz bzzzzing and Frannie texting and her mom's piano playing.
And then Rachel stripped her shirt off and pulled open her drawer.
And Quinn forgot about her day.
Her eyes fell over Rachel's back and into a trance. Every curve hypnotized her as if drawn with that purpose in mind. Rachel had freckles down her spine, dimples at her lower back and divots over her shoulder blades.
Quinn had seen them a million times, but never really looked.
And now, now she could only stand and look.
Look at her.
Rachel pulled her hair out, stripped off her bra, tossed on a tank top and then dropped her jeans to her ankles.
Oh, look at her.
Quinn's feet took her slowly across the room.
Look at those legs.
Again, she'd seen them every day, but she'd never really looked.
Look at them.
"Do you want a tank or a tee tonight, Bee?" Rachel asked, rummaging through her drawer. Quinn's feet stopped directly behind her. She inhaled that chocolate factory made of flowers doused in vanilla scent as if it were a drug. She needed a hit. She'd forever need a hit.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she inhaled again.
She wanted it, needed it, and could do it.
She stepped forward once more, pressing her front into Rachel's back. The girl's breath hitched, her fingers jerked open, and the clothes in her hands fluttered down to the drawer.
"Neither," Quinn whispered and placed a kiss on her shoulder.
Rachel's eyes widened and she leaned back into the blonde. Something had changed. Something had definitely changed in the last minute.
"Quinn."
"Yes?" she asked between more kisses.
"We just took sex off the table," she murmured and cocked her neck to the left to provide more access. Quinn gripped her waist, turned her around and walked her into the dresser. The drawers slid shut at the pressure and Rachel smirked. "So it's back on the table?"
"It's always been on the table, for months now. And I'm so sorry I made you wait," Quinn whispered and connected their mouths. Rachel melded into her, arms flopping around her shoulders and hips meeting.
"Why did you make me wait?"
"Leroy asked me to. The day he told me he loved me," Quinn said, laced her arms around Rachel's waist and buried her face in the brunette's neck to hug her. Rachel's heart pounded for her girlfriend and for her father. She felt overwhelmingly loved and protected in that moment.
And that's all she ever wanted.
She pulled away and brought Quinn's gaze to hers.
"And tonight?" she asked.
"Tonight I don't care about your father."
A sly, sexy smile spread over Rachel and her body tingled.
"I think I'm losing circulation," she muttered and Quinn laughed.
"I'm going to take your shirt off now," she whispered.
"So it's happening?"
"It's happening," Quinn said, gripped the hem of Rachel's tank and slowly dragged it up her body and over her head. Cool hair rushed over her torso, over the little hairs on her stomach, the sweat beads under her breasts, and the peaks of her small nipples.
Rachel inhaled deeply.
"I'm suddenly very nervous," she whimpered.
"Don't be."
"And I'm kind of ecstatic."
"You're rambling."
"I'm terrified."
"Stop with the adjectives," Quinn demanded and slid her fingertips up Rachel's stomach. She needed to memorize it, all of it. Soft little mounds and curves dipped in every which direction. Her finger traced them as if to record every nuance.
"What if, what if it's bad?"
"It's not possible," Quinn muttered and dropped her head back to Rachel's neck. She placed soft, placating kisses to the skin, Rachel's pulse pounding wildly beneath it.
"It is," she sighed. "It is possible. You hear so many jokes about-"
"Rachel."
"I just want to be good."
"You're good at everything you do. Why are you suddenly insecure about this?"
"It's not sudden. I've always been insecure about this! Don't you know me but at all?" Rachel huffed and wrapped her arms over her breasts. Quinn stopped her kisses and took a step back.
"What can I do? Tell me how to make you feel okay."
"Why do you feel okay?"
"I don't," Quinn said. "You're just chattier."
"Chattier," Rachel scoffed. She loathed herself. She loathed her chatty ways and her insecurities and her inability to shut up and make love to her girlfriend. She dropped her eyes to the floor.
Quinn needed to fix it and fix it quickly or their chances would dissipate like so many times before.
"Look," she started and stepped back into Rachel. She brought a hand up to her neck and connected their eyes. Those innocent, sweet, brown eyes that captured her heart in a nun's costume stared over her, fear and want equally battling it out. "I love you."
"I know you do," she whimpered, "but-"
"I love the way you kiss me," Quinn interrupted and slid her lips over Rachel's. "You do this thing," she breathed, "where you dart your tongue out onto my bottom lip. And," she kissed her harder and then broke, "it drives me crazy. It makes my legs do this shaky thing. And my heart," she said with a smile, grabbed one of Rachel's hands off her breast and laid it on her own chest, "it races."
The brunette felt it pounding beneath her hand and hers picked up pace to match. Quinn stepped closer, pinching their hands between them, and placed her cheek to Rachel's.
"And when you put your hands on me," she started and Rachel's toes curled at the simplest thought, "it's like fireworks. And it makes me all warm, like sweet apple pie."
"Quinn…"
"No, that's what you do, just with one touch, just with one kiss. So you see," she smiled, "there's no way you'll be bad. You could simply lie on top of me, naked, like that night at Puck's, and I'd be content."
Rachel's mind shot back to that night. It was all so clear to her now, why Quinn stopped them. She swallowed the thoughts and focused on Quinn kissing down her neck and over her shoulder. It was like the trail of tears, but wonderful and marvelous and she wanted it to spread down her arms and over her chest and across her stomach.
But Quinn stayed put, there on her neck.
She brought her fingers up to lace them through blonde hair and yanked her away. Quinn stood before her, green beanie pulled down over blonde hair, near black eyes, and straight lips.
"Close your eyes," Rachel whispered and tugged the beanie off.
Quinn didn't know what was about to happen but she didn't care. She closed her eyes, stilled herself and waited. Rachel, in only her underwear, stepped into her. Quinn could feel her everywhere. She prayed life always felt like that, with Rachel everywhere.
She wanted to feel the heat, the comfort, the hot skin, and the heartbeat for the rest of her life. It was as if nothing else existed outside their two feet wide circle and she wouldn't have it any other way.
Rachel's dainty hands dragged up the front of her thighs and found her jeans button. She popped it loose and Quinn heard the slightest intake of breath. With her eyes closed, she heard and felt and smelled everything more than she ever would have. If that was Rachel's intention all along, it worked.
Those fingers found her zipper and tugged it down.
And then those hands slid inside her loose jeans, around her sides and palmed her ass to pull them together. Suddenly Rachel's breasts were pressed against her hoodie, her chin dug into Quinn's collar bone, and their thighs melded into one.
"Rach," she breathed, just because.
The brunette smiled onto her skin, pleased with how intoxicating it felt to take over Quinn. She kissed the divot of her neck, gave her backside a soft squeeze and then bent at the knees. She dropped lower, lower, and lower, her hands dragging down Quinn's legs as she went and her mouth placing kisses in a path she'd soon follow back up.
Jeans hit the floor without a sound and Rachel kissed both kneecaps, one, slowly, and two, slower, before ascending back up over thighs, hips, waist, and finally to her previous spot in her neck. The blonde shivered under her touch and it ticked her confidence level one notch higher.
"I'm so in love with you," she whispered for no reason in particular and trailed her hands up Quinn's hoodie to the zipper on her chest. She raised her eyes up to Quinn's closed lids, smiled, and grabbed the metal before pulling it down. The edges fell open and the blonde sighed.
"What makes you-"
"Shhh," Rachel stopped her, laced a hand around her neck and brought their lips together. "You've talked enough."
"There you go," Quinn muttered, a smirk playing at the edge of her lips.
"There I go what?"
"There you go stealing things."
"What'd I steal this time?"
"The scene," she giggled. "My heart."
"I stole that a long time ago," Rachel said and pulled Quinn's shirt over her shoulders. "And let's not pretend the scene was ever yours."
Quinn gasped.
Rachel reached out to palm her breasts over her bra.
And Quinn gasped again.
"I said shhh," Rachel repeated and stepped closer. She laid her head sideways over the blonde's chest as each millimeter between their bodies became non-existent. She let her hands drop from Quinn's chest to slide around her sides, hugging her with all intentions of being closer and closer and then her bra clasp fell under her touch and her intentions changed.
"Take it off."
"I don't need direction."
"All actresses need direction."
"I'm not acting."
She snapped the clasp open and ran her hands over porcelain shoulders to drop the bra free. It fluttered to the ground and Rachel lowered her eyes.
Quinn's pulled open and looked down.
Rachel was enamored. She raked her eyes over every inch of them, every freckle, peak, and curve. Her tongue snaked out to wet her lips and the right side of her mouth quirked in need. Quinn smiled at the sight.
"You okay?"
Rachel's gaze darted up.
"I said close your eyes."
"Why? So you can ogle me without abandon?"
"Yes," she whispered and looked away. "You watching makes me nervous."
"Why?"
"Stop questioning me and close your eyes. I have things to touch."
Quinn closed her eyes.
She waited.
And waited.
Hot breath hit her sternum and she waited longer. She waited for any sort of contact. She waited for bare thighs to press into her own. She waited for lips to hit her skin. She waited for fingers to find their way.
Nothing came.
"Rachel?"
"Mhm…" she breathed and that heat blew over Quinn's chest again. Her eyes rolled back behind closed lids and her hands twitched at her sides.
"Why aren't you-"
"I was testing your ability to not question me. You've failed," Rachel giggled. Quinn hung her head in annoyed desperation. Enough was enough.
She pulled her eyes open.
They burned into Rachel's.
"You're done," she stated.
Rachel's left eyebrow hiked a notch and before she knew it, Quinn was on her. The slowly built, contained tension exploded. Quinn gripped her waist, turned them around and collapsed them onto the bed.
Rachel yelped out a giggle as Quinn plastered kisses all over her neck, shoulders, and lips.
"Okay, okay," she surrendered. "Okay. Slow down, come here," she begged, dug her short nails into Quinn's hair and pulled her up. The blonde hovered above her.
Now it was time. Now it was happening. She let her body settle softly onto Rachel's, legs intertwined and stomachs together.
"Make love to me," Quinn pleaded.
"You'd never have to ask," Rachel smirked.
They giggled at the irony. Rachel had asked. She'd begged. She'd pleaded. She'd flat demanded. And Quinn continued sitting on her own hands, until today, until now, until she'd asked. They chuckled, shared an understanding nod of security, and then brought their lips together.
Quinn settled the rest of the way down, their bare chests coming together, and snaked her arms under and around Rachel's neck. All of their kisses built to this one. After all, if you're not kissing up to something, what are you kissing for?
She kissed Rachel first because she had to.
She kissed her again because she wanted to.
She kissed more because she needed Rachel to fall in love just as she had. And then she kissed to show her that love. And then they kissed to build and exude passion. And now they kissed to release it.
They were always kissing for something: kissing for a thank you, kissing for more sandwiches, kissing for congratulations, and kissing hello.
As she turned her head and loved Rachel's tongue with her own, she prayed they never had to kiss to say goodbye. She prayed they never had a last. She prayed they'd die kissing in that nursing home where they'd be old, crazy women and she'd love washing Rachel's hair and reminding her of her celebrity.
Because she'd never get enough.
She clenched her eyes tighter and pressed deeper. Rachel inhaled beneath her, needing air and more air, but not needing it more than she needed Quinn. She gripped her tight around her bare waist, drawing what felt like letters or words or circles on her lower back. She was always there, everywhere.
She traced those patterns lower and hooked her fingers in Quinn's underwear. The blonde shuddered and wanted to laugh at herself. They hadn't done anything they'd not done before, but it all felt new. It all felt new because it all had-
Rachel jerked her knee up, rocked right and rolled them over.
Purpose.
It all had purpose. Quinn gulped.
Rachel settled over her hips with a smile. She let her eyes drag down Quinn's bare front, her fingers following, learning, adoring in their wake. When they landed at her underwear, Rachel hiked off her to the side and pulled them down her legs.
They fluttered to the floor and Rachel's eyes glued to Quinn.
And Quinn found the ceiling.
She could feel Rachel staring at her. She could feel Rachel's eyes raking slowly, so slowly, over all of her. Her heart pounded in her chest.
Please god, let her be pretty enough.
She shivered under the gaze she felt and when nothing happened, her eyes shot back down to her girlfriend still hovered on her knees to the right, eyes locked wide between Quinn's legs and mouth agape.
Quinn gulped again and fought the natural instinct to cover herself. She breathed through the so-called pain and swallowed all the stupid thoughts coming to her lips. You've talked enough.
Let her look.
She'd looked at Rachel.
"You're…" the brunette started and swallowed, her chest heaving a bit. Those wide eyes traced down her legs and then back up her entirety to land on those anchors. They pulled her in tight.
She swung her leg back over Quinn and brought their lips together.
"You're everything I hoped for," she finished between kisses.
It was perfect. Quinn expected beautiful, perfect, amazing, gorgeous, some word that'd been used so often it lost its true meaning.
But not Rachel.
Rachel was never the norm. She never read from the manual, spoke from the book. And because of it, Quinn fell in love all over again.
She did a sit up, pulling Rachel tightly against her and hugged her. She just needed to hug her. She wrapped her arms clear around those tiny shoulders, buried her face in brown hair and held tight.
"You okay?" Rachel whispered, fingers running down her spine, over and over. It lulled Quinn into an air of euphoria.
"More than," she said, kissed the girl's bare shoulder and brought her hands south. They landed on Rachel's thong and danced over the shiny material. Dainty and lovely to the touch, they were just like the girl in her arms. "Can we take these off?"
"Of course," Rachel smiled. "Might be kind of important."
"Maybe," she grinned. Rachel crawled to her feet on the bed and waited.
At that, Quinn swallowed the expectations she previously had for how the underwear-removal process would be happening. Because clearly it wasn't happening like she thought it would.
She drew her eyes up to the scenario before her: Rachel's legs flanked her thighs and the thong sat eye level directly in front of her.
"Take them off me, Bee," Rachel purred from high above. Quinn swore she would be swallowing her tongue before the night was over. Her trembling hands dragged up Rachel's legs. The girl shivered at the knees. "It tickles."
"Don't care," Quinn muttered and continued. Her hands splayed over tight thighs and adorable hips. Bright blue material hid her hands as they slipped under and gripped from the inside. She looked up and found Rachel.
She nodded.
Quinn gripped the thong, pulled it down and watched Rachel shiver just as she had. Her intoxicating eyes looked away as Quinn's stare flowed lower, lower, and lower. It landed dead center and Rachel forced herself to stand proud.
She stepped out of her thong at Quinn's request to each foot and then waited. Cold hands trailed back up her legs and gripped her behind.
"Come here," Quinn whispered and pulled her forward the few spare inches they'd left between them. Her lips landed dead center in a sweet kiss and Rachel's hand fluttered over her heart. Her skin burned with pleasure.
Quinn kissed her again and then trailed kisses out over her hip bones, thighs, and sides, sending the burning out and around and all over. Quinn curled her arms around those hips and pulled Rachel back down onto her.
She landed on her knees with a thud and they lay back.
"I feel like I'm on fire," Rachel muttered.
"Me too."
"Normal?"
"Yeah, love."
"How do you know? Maybe it's the shrimp."
"Don't do this now. You know I find your rambling chatty Kathy ways adorable, but god, please do not do this now," Quinn begged and brought her thigh up between Rachel's legs. It took her previously burning skin and tossed lighter fluid on it.
"Oh wow," Rachel groaned. "Do that again."
Quinn did and she careened on top of her.
"That?"
Rachel bit her lip, clenched her eyes and nodded. "Is, is that normal?"
"Is what?"
"Rubbing with thighs."
"Baby, stop wondering what's normal and do what feels right."
"Everything feels right," she moaned as Quinn's leg found her wetness again.
"Then stop questioning it."
"I'm sorry," she murmured and kissed the blonde's cheek.
"Don't be. You're everything I hoped for, too."
Rachel melted and in that moment, she vowed to stop worrying. She vowed to stop wondering. She vowed to stop questioning.
She vowed to do whatever felt right and good and natural.
And what felt right was kissing the girl of her dreams.
She brought herself down and did just that.
And then she wanted more. She wanted all of her all at once. Her mind raced in a thousand directions. She wanted to kiss her hands. She wanted to touch her ass. She wanted to run her tongue down her back. She wanted to suck on her chest.
There was so much to do and nerves pulsed at the thought of what to do next and when and how and would they-
"Rach?"
"Mmm?"
"You okay? You're shaking," she whispered and brought her thigh up again. They rolled together, moved together, kissed shoulders and panted.
"I just, there's so much I want to do; I don't know what to do first."
"You have a lifetime to do whatever you want to me."
Oh, god.
Rachel's head sagged and she yearned at the thought. She had a lifetime. She did. She had years upon years to explore and learn and become the sex goddess she knew she could be.
But right now, in her first time, what did she want?
Narrow the scope.
Her thoughts magnified to one, and only one thing.
She grinned, placed a brief, happy kiss on the blonde's lips, and then shimmied south. She'd waited nine months to get a piece of the blonde. She wanted that piece, if only for a kiss.
She kissed down her stomach, over her angled hip bones and hovered between her legs, destination reached and nerves abounding.
"Really, Rach?" Quinn laughed. "I was kissing you…"
"And now I'm gonna kiss you," she whispered, eyes on her target, her beautiful target, and leaned forward.
Her eyes fluttered shut and like a lifeline flashing before her eyes, her expectations for taste, smell, feeling, and experience rushed over her in what felt like half a second flat.
They were all wrong.
Her parted, wet lips connected with Quinn and a wealth of arousal, emotions, and knowledge poured over her. She opened her mouth wider and kissed again. Quinn shivered beneath her.
It was her single most favorite feeling to date.
She snaked her tongue out, gave a flat lick, and then kissed her again, tasting that unique sweetness and inhaling the usual musky scent. That scent drove her nuts when Quinn was beside her, under her, or over her and pleasuring herself. Over the past month, they became quite versed in the act. And every time they did, Rachel wanted that smell closer, close enough to taste.
And here it was.
She lapped her tongue out again, running it between Quinn's folds and a moan fell from the blonde's lips.
Rachel had caused that. She had.
She did it again, harder, and again.
Quinn groaned and snuck her fingers in brown hair.
Rachel had planned to kiss her and leave, crawl back north and let their fingers do the work, but now all she wanted was more of Quinn making sounds like that.
"Come here. Come back up here," Quinn moaned.
Or not.
She crawled up in a hurry and kissed the blonde with fire. After all, she had her entire life to finish what she started and to start many more things. Ideas pounded through her head after only one minute down there. She couldn't imagine what her thoughts would be like in the morning once they were done and pandora's box was open.
Quinn rolled them over, drove her thigh into Rachel and kissed her with all the passion she felt for the girl. She'd felt it from the beginning, from the first slushie, from the first insult, all the way up to the nun's costume and their first kiss.
She thanked God for giving her the strength to do something about it.
She couldn't imagine life without the girl beneath her. She brought her lips to Rachel's breasts, kissing all these feelings into them. She licked over a nipple and watched Rachel respond with a moan and bite to her lip.
She did it again.
And then she switched and did it on the other one, the other equally sexy and willing one. She kissed a trail between them and pulled the left into her mouth. Rachel whimpered and her hips jerked up. Quinn pinned her back down with her own.
"I hope you know," Rachel panted and Quinn sucked harder. "Once we do this, I'm not gonna be able to stop."
She released her nipple with a pop and kissed up her chest to her neck and then lips.
"I'll never ask you to."
"You're driving me crazy," Rachel moaned and grasped for anything that brought Quinn closer.
"Likewise," she grunted when those hands connected to her hips and she rocked up into them. Their slick centers rubbed over each other and Quinn couldn't imagine anything, anything at all in life, ever feeling better than that.
"Touch me," Rachel begged.
Maybe not.
She trailed her hand down Rachel's front, dancing a cute trail with her fingers as they smiled at one another. Rachel giggled in frustration and then her eyes fell shut when Quinn hit her mark.
She slid between soaked thighs and felt Rachel fully for the first time. She imagined it felt like what heroin addicts felt when a full syringe shot into their system. It lit her up with feelings she couldn't explain. She felt like sunshine, like a burning sunshine.
And Rachel was there, below her, exuding enough heat to burn them both. She rubbed her forehead on the sheets and Rachel spread her legs.
Sweat beads pooled on her forehead all over again.
Quinn dragged her fingers over and around to learn her love. Each spot elicited a different response. There made her whimper. There made her gasp. There made her clench. There made the muscles in her neck jolt out like they were trying to escape.
But there, there made her melt.
Rachel's eyes closed, her jaw gaped, and she looked to lose who and where she was. Quinn stuck to-
Oh, god.
"Oh, god," she murmured.
"I can play, too," Rachel purred and nipped at her ear as she ran her sneaky fingers back up through Quinn's wetness.
Quinn's forehead collapsed, her world crashed and she lost herself.
They mimicked each other's movements, learning and directing all at once. Rachel's fingers trembled against her hot skin and the vibrations multiplied the sensation. She'd miss that.
She'd miss the nerves that made this moment extraordinary. She'd miss watching those brown eyebrows dance in wonder as those fingers tried different things down below. She'd miss the intense arousal from the first touches.
She'd miss making Rachel gasp each time she dropped her fingers a bit lower. She'd miss the anticipation.
"I love you," she murmured into the girl's ear.
"Mhm, ditto," Rachel panted. Quinn giggled through rasps and dropped even lower the next time she pulled her fingers through the girl.
She felt the same between her own legs.
"Ready?" Quinn purred, placed a sweet kiss to the jaw gaped open and Rachel nodded before swiping quick circles around the hard nub she'd grown to love. Quinn careened above her, wanting nothing more than for those circles to continue. "I change my mind."
Rachel chuckled, breathlessly, dropped south and circled again, but at Quinn's entrance.
"Ohhh, or not," she gasped. She failed to remember a time she'd felt so good. "I'm ready, definitely ready."
"With me," Rachel panted. Quinn dragged her fingers further south and rested just as Rachel had for her. She watched teeth bite down on plump lips, eyes flutter behind lids and cheeks burn red.
Quinn pushed into her and those lids snapped open. Rachel shot forward, captured her lips and pushed her own fingers into Quinn. In an instant, everything changed. Their tongues probed as their fingers pushed deep.
Gasps of air expelled between taut lips and Quinn could've cried.
She could've cried and died from the pleasure.
And Rachel wasn't any better off; she bucked slowly below the blonde, needing more and deeper and everything. She needed everything.
She pushed further into Quinn and- oh, god, so did she. Rachel gripped what she could to hold on and it just so happened to be Quinn. Her fingers hooked roughly inside and Quinn lost it.
"There, you found, god I don't know," she stuttered and rolled her hips down. Rachel did it again and again and again as the blonde slowly lost another level of control. Goosebumps covered her back, trembles fluttered over her thighs and she lost the knowledge of how to kiss.
Her lips quivered over Rachel's and she hooked inside again.
And then Quinn mimicked her, because why wouldn't she? Look what Rachel had learned and done and mastered by accident. She pushed deep and cocked her fingers there, no… there, no… there-
"Oh my god," Rachel groaned.
There.
"Again," she growled. "It's like, it's like…"
"Yeah," Quinn gasped as the brunette gave back just the same.
They rocked together, hips undulating and hands performing magic.
It was; it was magic.
Why did the 8 Ball not have that information?
"I feel it," Quinn panted, brought her free hand to Rachel's left nipple and gripped. That tiny body arced off the bed in wonder.
"Another," she gasped. Quinn pinched her again and Rachel shook her head rapidly. "No, finger. Another finger."
Quinn pulled out, as did Rachel, and when they slid back in with two, Rachel could've sworn the room started spinning.
"I feel like I'm hurting you," Quinn muttered through kisses to her neck. Hell, if her fingers ached from the lack of space, Rachel had to ache as well, right? She was… she was stretching.
"Do I look like I'm in pain," she moaned and rocked harder into Quinn as she thrust her own fingers in and out of the blonde. "Are you in pain?"
"God, no."
Rachel forced out a laugh through raspy gasps. She needed more air. She needed that train storming through her stomach to slam into the brick wall approaching. She needed havoc, wreckage, and explosion.
"Faster."
"You too."
She couldn't tell who was who anymore. Was that arm Quinn's or hers? Was that gasp from Quinn or from her? Was that wetness on her leg draining out of Quinn or her? She didn't know anything.
And it felt exactly as it should. She lost herself. She lost the date. She lost where they were. She lost who she was.
All she knew was Quinn.
And all Quinn could feel was Rachel, Rachel and her panting and her rocking and her lip-biting and her mutterings of more and faster and love and trains.
She didn't understand the train, but she didn't care. She worked her fingers over the girl and prayed the fire burning between her legs would flame to the ceiling and back.
"Oh, god, it's, it's…" Rachel gasped, clenched and thrust into Quinn.
"Happening," Quinn groaned and felt fire rocket through her. They slammed into each other as the world vanished. It vanished completely and all that remained was a quivering pile of shuddering Berry-Fabray.
Rachel's train hit her wall and caught fire in Quinn.
She got her wreckage, havoc and explosion.
And nothing else mattered- except when they could do it all again.