Next time it's Thursday and this story isn't updated yet (because ffnet is messing with every writer again), then you'll find the chapter on my tumblr. Grr.

Anyway, let's pretend Quinn's all safe and sound - enjoy.

Definitely one of my most miserable weekends, if not the most miserable one in my life. I tried comparing it to the first time my fathers had left me and I had spent the weekend alone, but it was a different kind of misery. Back then, I had someone to blame, someone to be disappointed in for leaving me alone. But now, when all arrows were pointed back at me, the anger and disappointment remained in my heart and I had nowhere to redirect them.

This morning, I hadn't needed Lil' Duckie to wake me with his tweeting. I simply hadn't been asleep the whole night, tossing and turning on the bed, not able to find a comfortable position to rest.

Santana had called me at seven am to make sure that I would stand up and get to school. Well, I guessed she had tried saying that because half of the time, she had been insulting me and cursing me in Spanish. I guessed she had found out that my attempt to talk to Quinn had been a failure.

I felt heavy and slow as I mournfully trotted to my locker, ignoring all the raised eyebrows at me. Fucking hell.

I had been in this school for, like, two minutes and it was a fucking Monday, but somehow everybody seemed to know that something big had happened between me and Quinn. Rumors really had a way of spreading that fast in McKinley High, no wonder why Quinn had been so apprehensive of her reputation. But that was still no permission for them to openly stare at me and whisper in a ridiculously loud volume so that I could hear their crazy assumptions as well.

Some had the theory that our fight had something to do with the police having caught Puck and me skipping school, and that wasn't even that far away from the truth. But it remained the only close guess. Others believed that I had been pretending to be her friend to get Finn in the end, which made me want to strangle whoever had said that. And some people even thought that I had slept with Santana and Brittany, which had infuriated Quinn because the Unholy Trinity was supposed to share everything. Right.

My close friendship with Quinn was no secret, everybody knew that we were inseparable, despite our differences. It was like common knowledge that Rachel Berry gave a fuck about almost everything in school, but would turn into a book-carrying, salad-eating and spanish-homework-doing softie for Quinn Fabray.

That I was whipped was so obvious that no one even dared to point it out.

Snarling at no one particular, I slammed my locker shut and turned around, leaning against it in exhaustion.

"Yep, guess I was right when I smelled the strong stench of misery."

I sighed and turned my head to Santana who had approached me with Brittany by the hand. The Latina tilted her head. "You know, for someone who's so good in kicking my ass, you don't seem to be able to kick your own hard enough to get up."

"San, I don't think that Ray can kick her own ass..." Brittany doubtfully said, which made me smile a little. At least some normality after a horrible weekend.

Santana shook her head with a weak smile and softly explained to her girlfriend, "I meant it in another way. She told me to stop being a coward and to just be with you, and now she can't do that herself and be with Quinn. See what I mean?"

The blonde nodded in understanding and a grin spread on her face. "I totally know how to fix this."

"You do?" Santana and I asked skeptically, making Brittany giggle.

"Of course," she said with a convinced smile and I stood a little bit straighter. At this point, I was pretty desperate to gain any positive process with Quinn that I was willing to accept any advise. Even if it meant that I had to get her a stuffed unicorn or something.

"I've even prepared something," Brittany happily said, and pulled her bag to her body. As she rummaged in it, I gave Santana a questioning look, but her frown told me that she was none the wiser.

"Tadaaa," the cheery blonde sing-songed, pulling a plain white t-shirt out of her bag.

"Erm, Britts, I don't think that Berry can unpress Q's lemons with a t-shirt," Santana doubtfully glanced at the piece of clothing in her girlfriend's hands. But Brittany pouted at her and unfolded the t-shirt, holding up the front side which had big and bold black letters printed on it.

I gaped at the words it stated.

Likes Quinn Fabray

"It took me half an hour to get the letters right. I've written Q's name wrongly a couple of times, saying something like 'Queer Fabgay', but it's all the same, isn't it?"

The ditzy blonde waved with the t-shirt in excitement, almost shoving it into my face. "Wear it today. Wear it so that everybody can see."

I still stared at her with a dumbfounded expression. "What?"

Her smile turning into a frown, Brittany turned to her girlfriend and sadly whispered, "I thought I was pretty clear."

Almost instantly, Santana turned on her 'bitch mode' and snapped at me, "Yeah, Britts was pretty clear. What's there not to understand, Berry?"

I bit on my bottom lip and quickly shook my head, turning to Brittany with an apologetic smile. "B, I really appreciate your effort to help me, but I don't think that Quinn likes the whole school knowing about us."

Brittany lowered the t-shirt deliberately, giving me a meaningful look. "Do you think that I would've planned this if it didn't work?"

Taken aback, I simply stared at her. Even Santana forgot to scowl at me and looked at her girlfriend with big, round eyes. Maybe she was just having naughty fantasies which had nothing to do with my problem.

"Ray, I'm not good at maths, but I totally rock analysis and stochastics."

I furrowed my brows, but didn't verbally react.

"And after lots of analyzing Quinn, I came to the conclusion that the chance of exploding rainbows is close to 132 percent when you wear this t-shirt. Which means, super high, like rainbow high. In a whole nother sphere where the colorful unicorns hang out."

I opened my mouth to ask her whether she could translate it into English, but Santana gave me a threatening look which clearly stated, 'Don't ask'.

"It's easy, Ray, just take a close look at this equation," Brittany said in deep concentration and I found myself intently listening to her. "First, we need to consider the odds of miscalculation. Which is totally small, like Finn's penis small, therefore non-existant."

Suppressing a grin, I shared an amused look with Santana who smirkingly nodded in agreement.

"Okay, the first addend is Quinn's possessiveness. She's just like Lord Tubbington in that part, he can always smell when I've stroked another cat, and he always gets extremely bitchy and ignores me. You know, Quinn really doesn't like all the girls giving you sexy eyes, so it would be nice to wear this shirt to let everybody know you're whipped and Q's holding the whip. I know she likes that idea."

My mouth opening and closing, I was at a loss for words and I tried to wrap my brain around what she had said.

"How do you know?" Santana asked for me, and I could only stupidly nod to underline this question.

Brittany shrugged and easily replied, "She said that to me few weeks ago, when everybody threw themselves at you after you've rejected Jenny Mont. You know, the hot Cheerio who's San's replacement."

"She did say that?"

"Not exactly these words, but after I saw her notebook where she had drawn different kind of scenes with Jenny dying, I kind of figured it out. Quinn's always had a knack of marking her things. She used to sign every single crayon with her name."

Oh my - The berry pie. Our date on Valentine's Day. Well, not really date, but – fuck, whatever, call it date then – but on our Valentine's date, she had said that the berry pie solely belonged to her. She had already marked me as her possession back then and I had only teased her about it, not knowing how much truth it had held. Hm, fuck.

"So, by wearing this," and Brittany held up her self-made t-shirt again, "you're stating that you're Quinn's. And she will totally like it. Even if she doesn't show it 'cause she's too proud to give in that easily, but she's gonna be swooning inside."

I had to say, this idea didn't sound as absurd as it did from the beginning. But I still had my doubts.

"And where is the second addend in this term?" I carefully asked, and received a disbelieving look from Santana. I glared at her because this was important, Quinn was important.

Brittany giggled lightly and sighed. "It's like two plus two, everybody knows that the solution is the fifth root of 1024, so why do you ask?"

Yeah, why did I ask.

That was when Santana jumped in and smoothly said, "What Britts' intelligence is saying, is that every chick digs mushy stuff like this." And she pointed to the imprinted t-shirt. "It's like a big, romantic gesture and totally makes the panties drop. Berry, you declaring your sappy feelings like that to any girl – and the janitor's gonna cut you for having to clean up all the exploded ovaries."

Still unconvinced, I shot the clothing in Brittany's hands a weird look.

"C'mon, it's not like you can fuck it up anymore," Santana sighed. "What else have you got?"

Nothing. And that was the reason why I slowly reached for the shirt, and Brittany gave it to me with a happy squeal. "My master plans always work!"

People had been staring at me like I was some zombie since my first period. Whereever I went, everybody stopped in their tracks and turned around, staring after me to make sure that they hadn't misread the big, fat letters Likes Quinn Fabray printed on my otherwise blank t-shirt. I kept reminding myself that I did this for Quinn, so instead of beating up everyone who gave me a strange look, I just raised my chin higher and stuck out my chest. No one could miss the message. I wouldn't let them.

Agitated whispers and incredulous stares followed me the whole time, I felt like I had done something incredibly scandalous to get such a reaction. And some jocks had even dared to ask me if that was my new method of getting into Quinn's pants after being just a friend with her for so long with no success. Don't worry, they were lying somewhere on the school grounds now, holding their probably never-healing-again genitals.

But these stupid reactions were starting to get to me, why was it that no one would fucking understand my message? It wasn't like they didn't know I had a soft spot for Quinn, it wasn't like they hadn't noticed my derp grin whenever she chose to sit next to me rather than with the Cheerios. Which happened everyday. So why did the McKinley people still gawk and stare at me like they couldn't believe their eyes?

Maybe they really thought that we were just close friends. I mean, I changed my bed partners like underwear or even faster, like chewing gum. And now suddenly, I wanted to commit myself to a seemingly straight girl. Who was still the leader of the Celibacy Club. Yeah, I'd probably assume that there was something wrong, too, if I didn't know that I was so whipped for Quinn.

But still, that gave them no right to shoot doubting looks my way or even shake their heads, mumbling, 'Probably just a joke' or 'Just trying to get into her pants'. It made me damn angry, so fucking angry that I didn't know who to beat up first and how to beat them up.

I had to calm myself down. And think.

Did Quinn already know about my t-shirt thing? Surely someone had told her, and even if not, it wasn't like she could miss it. It was like the topic number one and every other news was completely irrelevant. World War III might as well be breaking out, and people would still rather discuss about the honesty behind my statement.

As fucked up as things were right now, I still had hope. Because whenever I felt like shouting 'Fuck it' and just giving up, I would take out my phone and read the last message Quinn had written to me.

I don't want you to change

It literally ignited my heart everytime I saw these few words, I would immediately feel lighter and warmer. It gave me inner strength, something to hold on to.

I always strongly believed that people needed things to hold on to in their life or they would soar away, like helium filled balloons. Life needed a meaning, a ballast to keep people staying on the ground, to keep them staying sane. For many it was work, family, hobby or even obsessions and addictions to keep them busy. But if you had none of them to cling on to, then your life would make no sense and you'd find yourself fading because of your emptiness.

I used to rely on the bliss of sex and parties to give me something to live for, but now I had Quinn to keep me sane in a much healthier way, both physically and mentally. When I used to look forward to getting drunk and laid, I now got even more excited at the mere thought of spending time with her.

I didn't understand how this change in me had happened, and when it had happened, but I regretted nothing. I didn't regret the things I had done. I would regret the chances I didn't take.

I absolutely hated to sound cheesy and use phrases I didn't come up with on my own, but she literally was my rock, she kept me on the ground. She would always take my hand and pull me back if I threatened to float away, to lose my faith in everything.

Yes, I matured a lot in Lima, mostly because of Quinn. But at the same time, I had stayed as childish as a five year old. It was the innocence and unbiased curiosity that I got back, which made me start to look at things differently.

When I saw this sixteen year old girl wearing an argyle sweater with a reindeer printed on it, I didn't think that she had a pitiful taste in clothing. Maybe it was a present from her parents and she wanted to make them happy, or maybe argyle kept her warm because she was easily freezing. The unbeta-ed version of me would've scoffed at the poor girl and labelled her as a freak without a second thought.

I wanted to gasp in mock horror and dramatically sigh. Where did the shallow Rachel Berry go? Did anyone see this girl who used to wave every hot chick into her bed, not caring if they got less IQ than her breadsticks? What happened to her, why didn't she love to get wasted and arrested anymore?

Yep, I could try to deny it all I wanted, but my friends were right. There was an old and a new Rachel Berry. I wasn't afraid of the new one anymore, but I was scared that I would turn back into the old one when I returned to New York.

Everybody knows the saying, 'Actions speak louder than words'. But only today, in this morning's Chemistry class with Puck, did I get to experience it first-hand.

I had always appreciated my bromance with Puck, not wanting to do the same mistake again of taking someone's friendship and love for granted. But when he had seen my t-shirt and pulled me in for a strengthening hug without one word, that was the moment I just wanted to cry out of joy and relief.

He hadnt't asked me rhetorical questions as 'Are you okay?' or 'How are you feeling?', he just knew not to ask because it was so obvious that I was feeling like shit. There was no need for me to throw salt into the wound by stating it out loud.

So he had just held me, held me as long as he could until the lesson started and even then, he had settled for holding my hand throughout the whole period. He hadn't said one word.

And I loved that about him because we both knew better than to whisper empty promises of 'It will get better'. Sometimes it was better to not say anything at all, but to just be there.

It helped me a lot to know that Puck was there, there for me. To know that he would open his arms for me and hold me even though I was the one who screwed up. To know that he wouldn't judge me and try to understand from my perspective.

And this fact made me stronger, it gave me some of my self-confidence back, it took away some of my self-hatred.

And it made me want to fight for Quinn, now more than ever.

It was lunch time, the canteen was filling and I had spent the last few minutes craning my neck, searching for a certain blonde. I would get immensely disappointed whenever I thought I had spotted her and then the girl would turn around, revealing an unknown face.

I couldn't feel less like eating. I didn't feel like eating for the rest of my life.

"Stop being so fucking melodramatic," an all too familiar sniding voice behind me snarled. A tray with food dropped next to mine unceremoniously, followed by Santana sitting down next to me.

"San, that's a rude way to say she's sad."

Another tray got placed on the table on my left side, more gently this time. I watched Brittany sitting down next to me on my other side.

Great. I got sandwhiched between them two. More torture and confusion to endure.

"My bro's not sad, she's just planning on how to make up with Quinn, right?"

Finally, someone who stood on my side. I looked up and gave Puck a small smile who returned it with a grin, and he sat down opposite of me.

"Oh, plans of wooing our own Ice Queen?" a high pitched male voice said, and sure enough, Kurt plopped down next to Puck with his tray full of salad. "I'm intrigued, and if any help is required, I'm in."

Wait, I didn't say anything about any plans -

"Count me in as well." Out of nowhere, Mike turned up with Tina at his side and they sat down at our table, too. "Me, too," Tina piped up.

What the hell – I didn't ask for this, I was perfectly fine sulking on my own, what were they thinking?

"What's up?" another voice asked, and everybody looked up at Mercedes. "A short Glee meeting?"

"Nah, just everybody sticking their noses into my business," I muttered, but Kurt was louder. "We're discussing on how to help Rachel get her girl."

Oh, we were? I couldn't recall me inviting any of them into my one-sided conversation.

"Finally, I thought you'd never ask," Mercedes sighed, and she sat down at our table as well.

"What?" I hissed in annoyance. "I didn't ask for anythi -"

"What's going on here?" Artie curiously asked, our newest addition at this table.

"Nothing," I growled, but everyone else was louder.

"Oh, just talking about how Rachel can get Quinn to take her back."

"Yeah, 'cause Berry gots no balls and that's why we gotta do it for her."

"I got balls. In my locker. So my bird in there won't get bored."

"We need some badass plan, maybe handcuff them together..."

"Definitely roses. Lots of pink and red roses at their date."

"And tater tots."

"Don't forget the rainbow and unicorn decoration."

"And the condoms."

"Condoms? Why would they need -"

"STOP!" I finally exclaimed, my patience gone and it immediately got silent. But not just at our table, the whole canteen was eerily silent now and all eyes were trained on me. I had fucking enough.

I stood up and jumped on the table, facing everybody in the canteen. I let my eyes wander around, straying from one dumbstruck face to another, all looking at me expectantly.

"I'm not wearing this t-shirt as a joke," I loudly said, with no long introduction. I got straight to the point because all this staring and whispering and pointing had been straining my nerves for too long, and I just wanted them to stop.

"It's the truth. Deal with it. I don't care how, but just leave us alone. And with 'us', I mean Quinn and me."

If the air in this canteen had a taste, it would taste like disbelief and astonishment.

"And I'm sorry," I added with a sigh, "I'm sorry to all the girls I've hurt. But it's over now, there's only one girl I wanna be with."

"Prove it!" someone shouted in the crowd and it was quickly followed by lots of agreeing 'Yeah's.

"Haven't I already proved it the last few weeks?" I countered back. "Haven't I rejected you all?"

Abashed silence filled the canteen again and I smiled without humor. I thought so.

"You don't have to believe me," I said and shrugged my shoulders, "but my t-shirt says it all. And if you can't accept that, then I can only feel sorry for you."

Lack of comprehension all over their faces, some of the students said, "Huh? Feeling sorry for us? You should be feeling sorry for yourself."

It was what I had expected and I met their stares with a steady gaze.

"Why should I? I'm not the one lying to myself," I stated, receiving confused looks. "If you can't accept others the way they are, then you obviously can't accept yourself. I feel sorry for everybody who's taking so much interest in my life, just because they don't have one of their own. I feel sorry for everybody who's trying to break us, just because they're broken themselves."

The more I said, the more embarrassed did the students of McKinley become. At this point, no one was looking me in the eye anymore, either turning their heads away or staring at their food trays.

"I'm not asking for much. I just want you to show more respect for people who want to express themselves. Just because you're living a lie, doesn't mean that you can force others to do it as well. Let people be, let yourself be. It's really not much to ask for. You don't have to do anything, you just have to stop doing things."

I paused and closed my eyes shortly. Quinn. I needed her more than ever.

"Stop making people's life miserable just because your own is miserable. Stop misdirecting the hate that's reserved for yourself. Just stop. I'm tired of having to apologize for being myself, I'm tired of justifying myself all the time. And I know you're tired of doing the same."

Embarrassed faces and lowered heads everywhere I looked, no one meeting my eyes.

It wasn't the speech of the year nor was it revolutional by any means, but I felt like I had brought over my message. There was nothing else I wanted to add. Turning around, I jumped off the table and ignored my fellow Glee members as I hurried out of the canteen. I just needed to get away, to give myself some air to breathe, some space to think.

My feet automatically took me to the auditorium, the only place in this school where I felt safe somehow. With the rows of seats all empty, I loved simply standing on the stage and pretending for one second that I was someone else, someone with less problems and sorrows. I would close my eyes and imagine that I had made it to something, that people were actually eager to sit in the audience and watch me perform, whatever I did.

My gaze flickered to the black grand piano at the side of the stage. It was calling after me, whispering my name. 'Play me, sing the pain off your chest' it said and I couldn't resist; music had always been my way of expressing my emotions when words failed to do it for me. Because even if I played with exaggerated vigor and sang with trembling emotions, no one would immediately judge me. Excellent and moving performance, they'd say. They wouldn't assume that it was my heart singing, crying to the sound of the piano.

I sat down on the piano bench and placed my fingers on ivory keys. I sang the first song that came to my mind.

"I can't win, I can't reign, I will never win this game without you."

The old me would've flinched at this song choice. The old Rachel Berry would've rather jumped off a cliff than sung a cheesy pop song, but I guess I wasn't the old Rachel Berry anymore.

The more I sang, the more emotional did I become. I felt myself challenging my vocal chords as I belt out, "I can't look, I'm so blind, I lost my heart, I lost my mind without you."

I kept my eyes closed the whole time and even when I had finished singing, I didn't dare to open them. Because it would make me realize that nothing had changed, that I was still as miserable as before.

The sudden sound of guitar strumming startled me and I jumped on my feet, whipping my head to see where the music was coming from. I walked a few steps towards the curtains and slowly pushed them aside, and I almost fell over at this sight.

It was Quinn. Quinn sitting on a stool, with a guitar on her knee and she was directly gazing at me. She had been here all along, hidden behind the curtains. She had heard me singing.

I was speechless and I tried figuring out what the look she gave me meant. She was still strumming a soft pattern and her fingers changed the chords quite fluently. She really was a quick learner, she never needed me to explain her everything twice and I couldn't help but feel proud of her.

I wanted to say something, to say anything, but she was still playing the guitar. And that was when she opened her mouth, her eyes piercing into mine, "The smell of your skin lingers on me now."

She was singing to me. And my heart skipped a beat at this realization. I had never heard Quinn really sing solo before, the solo numbers in Glee often got taken by Mercedes, Santana or Kurt.

"I need some shelter of my own protection, baby."

And I realized that this was her way of talking to me. My eyes were glued to her face and searching for any hints of what she was feeling. But she had her half-hooded eyes trained on her guitar and her eyebrows were knitted.

"Be with myself and center, clarity, peace, serenity," she softly sang and I didn't dare to breathe, not even wanting the most minimal noise to distract me from hearing her delicate voice.

"I hope you know, I hope you know that this has nothing to do with you." And my heart ached when I saw Quinn closing her eyes as she was in pain, singing the chorus with so much emotion. "It's personal, myself and I, we got some straightening out to do."

Why was she singing this? Wasn't this song about breaking up and leaving for good? Was this her way of telling me that she didn't want me, kindly rejecting me?

"It's time to be a big girl now, and big girls don't cry."

No, I had to stop making myself crazy. I couldn't take every song too literally, I couldn't analyze it word for word and translate it into our situation. I had to focus on the main message – but what was the main message?

A desperate look appeared on my face as I looked at Quinn. Not a second later, like she had sensed my fear, she looked up and connected her eyes with mine again. And a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

And suddenly, I felt free, felt like falling and flying at the same time, I wanted to laugh and sob, wanted to shout and bury my face into my hands. I wanted to cry out of joy, out of relief because this misery, this teenage angst was over, it was over, finally over –

"Yes, you can hold my hand if you want to," Quinn sang and her voice trembled, "'cause I wanna hold yours, too. We'll be playmates and lovers and share our secret worlds."

And she stopped playing, stopped singing. And I stopped breathing. Everything after this happened so fast yet in slow motion, I watched her standing up, placing the guitar aside and before I realized it, she had shortened the distance between us, between our bodies, between our faces, between our lips.

The moment her lips melded with mine, every other part of my body went completely numb.

And fuck it, who needed big orchestras playing epic music in the background or petals of roses raining on us or fireworks exploding above our heads when I had Quinn, who made me feel like I had finally found home.

This skin contact was so innocent and feathery light, but it couldn't have been more intense. Just lips touching, not even moving, not even nibbling or biting, nothing. But it made my heart rate shoot up exponentially and everybody who had the slightest clue of math would know that I was on the verge of becoming Hulk.

Hands cupping my cheek, I felt Quinn adding more pressure on my lips and I almost whimpered, placing my hands on her waist. I started to softly move my mouth against hers, barely tilting my head, but it brought immense pleasure for both of us. It was almost embarrassing, the way I got turned on by mere kissing, without any tongue. Maybe we had been friends for way too long, this foreplay had been going on way too long and now all the unresolved sexual tension was unloading from itself.

The movements of our lips became more fluid, more passionate, more emotional as they remained connected, and we started not getting enough air through our nose. But at the same time, none of us wanted to pull away, so we would gasp for air for a second and quickly lock our lips again, like we were afraid that we would never get to kiss the other again.

Our panting got heavier, our kisses more bruising and desperate, our hands more active as they started going on discovery tours. I wanted to bury my hands in her golden locks to feel the silkiness of her hair, but at the same, I wanted to cup her cheeks to feel the heat of her flushed skin.

So many things I wanted to do at the same time and this needy feeling inside of me set me on fire, because I just couldn't get enough. I felt like I was under some sort of time pressure, that I would only get to touch and kiss Quinn for a few minutes before she would dissolve like a dream.

And we both seemed to think that this moment was too good to be true. We furiously worked our swollen lips against each other, with our bodies pressed together, leaving no space between us. She had one hand buried in my hair, her fingernails deliciously grazing my scalp, and the other hand tightly grabbing my shirt like her life depended on it.

Lack of oxygen made my head dizzy, but it could be just Quinn and her mad kissing skills, literally taking all my breath away. With our breaths getting shallower and shakier, we should be pulling away if we didn't want to pass out, but everything felt too damn good to stop.

Finally, as the need of air became too overwhelming, we broke away with a gasp and panted heavily.

"Quinn," I barely managed to breathe, still trying to process everything that had happened, everything that I was seeing right now.

Quinn with red, swollen lips, flushed cheeks and ruffled hair – seemed like my hands hadn't been able to resist to bury themselves in her hair. The sparkle and glow in her eyes, in her endless and soulful eyes, dancing and captivating me into a trance.

And we didn't waste another second, quickly closing the distance between us again to lock our lips together again, our mouths meeting in a searing kiss.

We didn't need to talk, didn't need to wait, we had done all of that too much already. What we needed to do now was to catch up all the lost time together, all the lost kisses and touches, all the things we could have done if we hadn't spent so much time denying and ignoring what had been right in front of us.

I didn't have to dream about kissing her anymore. I didn't have to fantasize about nibbling on her plump bottom lip anymore. I could do it now.

Gently, almost hesitantly, did I take her bottom lip between mine and let my tongue softly caress it, which elicited a small whimper from Quinn and I almost moaned at this arousing sound. This was more erotic than shrieks of ecstacy ever could be, because this was such a sensual sound, so natural and sexual.

I started to tenderly suck on her bottom lip before I carefully nibbled on it, grazing it with my teeth. Another wimper fell out of her open mouth and I quickly tilted my head again to capture her lips with mine, intending to swallow the next erotic sound coming out.

I hadn't understood before why girls made such a big deal out of the first kiss, wasn't it a kiss like any other? I had shared thousands of first kisses, they had never meant more than the second or third one. I always thought that it was just a thing for delusional girls who were watching too many cheesy teen flicks, because who the hell thought about an epic first kiss when they made out with some random stranger in a club?

And maybe the meaning of the first kiss was still exaggerated, but I could understand now why it would be so important to some people. If you shared it with the right person – it could be epic. And maybe not in the sense of mind-blowing and world-changing epic, but epic as in, 'Yes, you are the one'.

And yes, Quinn was the one.

I used to kiss girls for the hell of it. I mean, kissing was a part of making out and having sex, and I just did it to fulfill the standard. And it wasn't that I didn't enjoy it, which I really did, but purely on the physical level only. I just liked a warm mouth pressed against mine, a tongue duelling with mine, but I wouldn't feel lightheaded or dizzy, I wouldn't get this warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. It would only be my lips feeling stuff, but my heart would remain untouched.

But now, with Quinn – I felt it all in my heart and guts as well, when her lips moved against mine, they didn't only keep my mouth busy, they kept my heart racing. They made my mind foggy, made my knees weak, made my insides heat up rapidly.

I gasped when sneaky hands cupped my butt and Quinn took this chance to let her curious tongue slip into my opened mouth, immediately connecting with my eager awaiting tongue. I was too distracted by the hands massaging my bottom that I couldn't focus on properly duelling with her tongue as she took claim of my mouth. This wasn't fair, she was playing dirty by squeezing my sensitive behind, knowing that it would drive me crazy.

My hand on her back drew circles on her back, slowly and teasingly, lower and lower, until I reached her apple bottom as well, playfully slapping it before I soothingly rubbed it.

Quinn involuntarily pulled back to gasp and moan – just the reaction I had wished for, and I leaned forward to attach my lips to her neck, slowly kissing my way up to her ear. Her hands on my ass twitched, the fingers digging deeper into the jeans covered flesh. When I reached the spot beneath her ear, I tenderly kissed her there and took her earlobe between my lips, teasingly nibbling on it.

"Oh," the blonde let out a sigh in pleasure, closing her eyes as I grazed her earlobe with my teeth.

"You like that?" I lowly growled, moving my lips to her jaw, trailing down her jaw line with open-mouthed kisses. A shudder and a needy whimper was answer enough. I bet she could feel my mouth forming a smirk against her smooth skin because not a second later, her lips were on mine again, inviting me to a new dance of tongues with her. I willingly accepted, intending to show her how to really dance.

I was high. Higher than I had ever been with alcohol or pot, higher than I had ever been with planes, so high that no one would be able to reach out and pull me back to the ground. And even if they tried to pull me back, I would fight back and fly away with Quinn, because fuck, who needed reality and all that crap that came with real life; I just wanted to be with Quinn and stay high forever.

Kissing her was like kissing all the misery goodbye. She really made me feel like I was kissing someone for the first time, not because of the inexperience. But because I had never felt so good by just kissing someone, I had never felt so warm and lightheaded, never so content and happy.

I wasn't wasting one thought about taking it to the next stage, quite the other way around – I was scared to think about what would happen next. I didn't want to ruin this perfect moment, I was perfectly happy with just kissing her, I considered myself pretty lucky to be able to kiss her right now. I didn't want to start wondering about how far she would want to go, didn't want to be distracted as I was bonding with her through our lips.

And even if she wanted to go further – I wasn't ready. It probably sounded ridiculous, coming from the one more sexually experienced, but I just wasn't ready for us to jump to the next level. Quinn deserved to have the chance to back out of this relationship before she regretted losing her virginity to me.

I couldn't count how many times I had tried to imagine how it would be like to kiss her, and when to kiss her, and where I kissed her. I always had had more romantic places in my mind, but now that I thought about it, the stage of the auditorium was the perfect place.

The stage was one of the few places where we felt safe, where we felt like we belonged. Whenever New Directions rehearsed their performances here, Quinn and I would get lost into the music, shutting all our walls down. The only moment where we could forget about everything else going on in this cruel world, the only moment where we weren't thinking, weren't pretending. We could be ourselves.

Whether it was magic or divine power that broke our masks and made our true selves shine when we stood on this dim lit stage, I didn't know. I didn't want to know. The magic would fade if I knew.

Pulling away from the kiss, we both panted heavily and took in each other's flushed faces.

The more I looked at Quinn and in her sparkling eyes, the more I fell in love with her. She had me completely captivated and I finally accepted that there was no way out. I didn't want a way out, I didn't want a Plan B.

Cracking a silly grin, I drew a shaky breath and watched her lips curving up into a smile. Our foreheads touched each other, our eyes were closed and we just happily giggled under our breath. I took her hands into mine and our fingers intertwined.

We stayed in this position for God knows how long, just enjoying each other's proximity. Perfectly content with just being with each other.

We found love in a hopeless place was all I could think of.

And right there, right at this moment, I had decided not to go back to New York when junior year ends. Not without Quinn. I could graduate here as well, I could try to re-connect with Shelby, I could make a change in McKinley, hell, in Lima even. Though I would terribly miss New York, I knew I would miss Quinn more and I had priorities now. And I could still visit my friends in school breaks.

No, I wouldn't leave Lima without Quinn. Not now that I had found her.

THE END.

Kidding :D Their relationship is still too fragile to leave it at that. And everybody who wants a happy alternative ending of 'On My Way', I wrote a Crack!Fic called 'The Unedited Wedding Scene'.

Anyway, here you got your Faberry Kiss after...counting...24 chapters. Pew. I'm kinda grinning because you all were so nervous about the kiss though you knew they would get together in the end :D

Yeah I know, I'm evil. I love you, too.