The hotel in Chicago hosted three of the five teams competing in the national finals. It was a three-star hotel that booked both collective and individual rooms. There were individual rooms for Schuester, Pillsbury and Sylvester, who had been invited by Schuester to organize the choreographies. The cheerios' Troubletones occupied a room just for them. The boys occupied other. The band had their own room, the girls got another one. But Santana had a surprise when she was checking in at the hotel.
"How come you have a room with double bed booked in my name?"
"Santana Lopez and Rachel Berry. It's here at the register. It's already paid." The hotel receptionist informed.
Santana looked behind. Rachel was in the registration line with Kurt and Blaine. They exchanged looks, and Rachel acted as if nothing different was happening.
"Berry. I believe that you need to sign the registration here with me." Santana said with evident disgust.
"Oh, of course!" Rachel went to the counter and went to work on the red tape with a smile on her face, much to Santana's dismay.
"Room 411B." The man handed over the card key when the two signed the register.
Santana took her handbag and went to the bedroom, leaving the rest of the team behind. The room was basic, but comfortable. There was a double bed, a small table, a television, a bathroom. Santana opened the suitcase and the first thing she did was to remove the dress and hang it. She heard the door unlock. Rachel also came in carrying her handbag.
"Great, you already hung your dress. I came to do the same."
"You had to set everything up, didn't you, Berry?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Santana."
"Don't pretend you're foul!"
"Because I booked a room for me and my wife? That's what you're finding odd. I have a copy of our marriage certificate in my wallet, in case you need a reminder. Oh, but of course it shouldn't be necessary since you are still using our ring."
"It's just a way to remember my imprisonment for the next four and a half years."
"The time is ahead for you." Rachel took her dress out of he handbag and hung it. Then she pulled out an envelope, handing it over gently to her wife.
"What is it?"
"Open it!"
Santana opened the envelope. It's Nyada's letter. Rachel was accepted.
"When did the answer come?" Santana lowered her voice.
"Two days ago. Kurt and I celebrated my acceptance and we spent yesterday afternoon looking at rental properties. We found some interesting in Bushwick."
"Brooklyn?"
"If you have the money to rent something in Manhattan or prefer to stay in a dorm..."
"Was Kurt accepted as well?" Santana shook her head, still in disbelief.
"No. But he's still going to New York with us. Nyada offers some classes for the community, he will do as many as he can until he makes the mid-year entry."
"Did he take it all well? Kurt? Lady Lips? Porcelain? Seriously?"
"We made a pact to make it to New York and he will do his part. Besides, what other option would he have? Stay here and help his father in the car workshop? It's not because he knows how to fix a car that he will want to do it for life."
"I can't imagine Kurt running the workshop. His hands are softer than mine."
Santana returned Rachel's letter and sat down on the double bed. She put her hand over her face and tried to process the information in the best possible way.
"Four years in prison with two drama queens. The hell is here!"
"I sang Pink Floyd at my audition." Rachel smiled.
Santana looked at Rachel for a moment. If this was an attempt for reconciliation, Rachel should try harder. Santana walked to the door and left the room, in any case, she wasn't ready yet to resume that conversation.
...
Rachel was a very harsh critic of the choir's performances. She celebrated the performance for a hour, driven by the high adrenaline that was being on top of the stage. There was no better booze for the diva. Then, when the adrenaline went down, she became the critic again, able to note all the defects and virtues of the presentations of all the members. About Troubletones, Rachel thought it was a good performance, with good choreography, but for from the power number they did during the sectionals. She understood very well Santana and Mercedes' message in making the group the female force of the choir, and that she, Rachel, couldn't be part because she already had her own privilege. Rachel could live with that. But Quinn and Tina's performances were weak, Mercedes wasn't on her best day, leaving Santana the responsibility to support the group as a whole. Rachel knew perfectly well that her wife could support a number on her own, because Santana was a great soloist, but the energy of the other girls got in the way.
The group number was very strong. The best they made so far, with Finn and Rachel doing mostly singing, with solo lines by Santana and Blaine, and Mercedes on the high notes, in addition to the incredible choreography created by Sue Sylvester, Rachel was sure of victory. Her solo was impeccable, but the lack of movement on stage was a low point. The audience is there to hear good music, good voices, but also to be entertained. She had already complained about the lack of a stage performance on her solo, but the non-motivation mainly of the girls made it very clear that the split was done. The choir girls were team-Santana and most of the boys showed an incredible lack of personality, becoming neutral to the situation.
When the result came, all the fighting seemed to be forgotten. The team celebrated as a whole. The trophy was given to Schuester, and there was no one who wasn't moved. Rachel felt an urge to kiss Finn, but before so many eyes, she stopped herself. She saw Santana hugging and kissing Brittany's lips, then hugged Quinn and Mercedes. The original and the new troubletones, finally, engaged in a collective embrace together with the cheerios that were there mostly to dance. Rachel hugged Finn, and then Blaine, Kurt, Sam and Schuester. Of the girls, only Tina hugged her. But that's fine. The important thing was that New Directions were national champions.
Sam and Artie took the whole group to an impromptu party at a bar near the hotel. They ate snacks, lots of peanuts and the adults bought three bottles of sparkling wine. Rachel took a cup and, in the distance, saw Santana dancing with Brittany, Quinn and other cheerios. She seemed to be enjoying herself. But Rachel soon got tired. The stress of preparation throughout the day, not to mention the emotional strain on the marriage, brought her down. She said goodbye to Kurt and Blaine, and went up to the hotel room.
Rachel's shower was invigorating. She used the new towel, put on the hotel robe, lay on the bed and turned the television on. After some zapping, she decided watch The Pelican Brief, with Julia Roberts and Denzel Washington. Rachel liked the film, but at that time, the TV was just a ambient sound. Rachel was paying more attention to the photos posted by her friends on Instagram. The party seemed to be going far. But, to her surprise, Santana entered the room. The girl was pale. Without saying a word, and without asking permission, Santana lay on her stomach and groaned loudly.
"Today?" Rachel asked without leaving the comfort on her side of the bed.
"I hate this." Santana said in a muffled voice on the pillow. "I couldn't anticipate... It shouldn't… It's two days earlier… I don't know what happened."
Rachel pretended to be paying attention to the film, but the truth is that she watched Santana's every move. From what the diva have already witnessed, the morphs were bad and painful. Santana sighed and finally got up from the bed. Rachel followed her with her eyes as her wife went to the suitcase, and picked up a clean outfit to wear. Rachel noticed that Santana didn't take any underwear, which was a sign that she really didn't even expect the period to come, which was very odd. Were Santana and Brittany out of sync? Santana went into the bathroom and Rachel heard the shower sound. When Santana came out of the bathroom, already dressed in sleepwear, Rachel noticed her wife's sleeping shorts were unable to hide the volume.
"I didn't bring any appropriate clothes to house mini-Lopez. I'm sorry." Santana was shy and embarrassed. She sat on the bed, next to Rachel, and covered herself to the waist. "Oh, this movie is great."
"Yeah, it's fine."
"Can you believe who old is it. Look their computer!"
"Amazing, isn't it?"
Rachel and Santana were watching the television until sleep came.
…
The mini-Lopez awakening always irritated Santana, because it was as if a part of her body had a will of its own. She woke up uncomfortable with her erection, looked at the side of the bed and saw Rachel sleeping. The cheerio looked at her cell phone. It was three in the morning. She rolled her eyes at herself, and got up as quietly as she could to go to the bathroom. She looked down and saw the pulsating, hardened volume inside women's shorts to sleep. Santana pulled the shorts down and released the volume. She held it in her hand and did what she had to do. Good thing that the first hand job was always quick. The spurt of semen happened only after a few minutes. Santana spent a little longer in the bathroom until she managed to pee. Only then she took a handful of toilet paper, moisten it a little, and cleaned herself and her little mess. She flushed and washed her hands. The volume of the shorts decreased and Santana would be able to sleep.
To her surprise, as soon as she returned to bed, she found Rachel awake.
"Sorry if I woke you up." Santana went back to bed and covered herself.
"It wasn't your fault. I can't sleep. This whole time I kept my eyes closed without really being able to relax."
"I hate insomnia." Santana commented.
"Me too."
Rachel decided to make a bold move. Still under the covers, she removed her panties, and took off the hobbie. Before Santana asked what she was doing, Rachel was on top, full naked, putting her legs between Santana's hips and positioned herself.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to relax. I need to sleep." Rachel started rubbing her pelvis against Santana's.
"I don't have a condom."
"We aren't in sync... yet."
"This can go wrong."
"I will take the pill tomorrow. I will buy one in the morning. Don't worry."
Rachel pulled her wife's shorts down and rubbed the vulva again against the penis. Santana let her wife control her movements. The cheerio was enjoying the pussy job a lot, just helping and caressing Rachel's legs, breasts and abdomen. Rachel was getting wetter and wetter while Santana was getting harder and harder, then the penis was prepared to penetrate her. Rachel put mini-Lopez into her and started to ride. Santana tried to help as best as she could, but the rhythm and the control was all Rachel's.
"It's all your fault." Rachel said as she moved up and down. "You shouldn't show me what an orgasm was." Santana didn't respond. She was focused on the moment. "I love him, but he isn't able to satisfy me like you do."
Santana found the right spot and started rubbing in the right place. She could see that by the change in Rachel's expressions. Finally, Rachel shut up and started to get more and more breathless and vocal. They looked each other in the eye, Rachel moved faster, and Santana knew she was close.
"Rachel... I'm almost... I need to put it out." Santana warned, but Rachel didn't seem to care, wanting to have her own orgasm.
Santana came inside Rachel's tight, hot vagina, and her ejaculation helped Rachel to have fun too. Only then Rachel slow the ride down until stop. She opened her eyes and could see her wife below her, Santana's nipples were hard and Rachel could see them through the fabric of her shirt. She could feel the moisture coming down between her own genitals.
"Are you better now?" Santana asked.
"So much better." Rachel said, without even leaving the top of her wife. She liked that position of power. "You?"
"I'm good. Rachel… don't get me wrong, but that doesn't solve things between us."
Rachel rolled her eyes and finally allowed Santana to put her penis out. Still, she remained on top of her wife and kissed her for the first time that night.
"Rachel, we should…" Santana tried to say after break the kiss.
"I don't want to talk. You have five minutes to catch your breath and get it up." Rachel started kissing Santana again.
"Do you want more?" Santana managed to broke the kisses again.
"We are the national champions, aren't we? Of course I want more."
"Get up to my face. I will eat you."
"Are you too lazy to move?"
"Shut up. I know you're loving be on top."
"Yes, I am."
"Then I will let you ride my face today… just because we are national champions and because you did a great job at that stage."
"Yes, we are. You're also very good. Now, eat me! If you do it good, I may return the favor."
"Yes, ma'am."
…
Santana opened her eyes again and had the impression that she had only slept for a minute. It was a quarter past ten in the morning when she woke to the sound of the door. It was Rachel bringing two cups of coffee and a paper bag with two croissants.
"Jesus!" Santana complained about the light.
"No, It's me. And I'm jew."
"Ha ha." Santana was in no mood. "Did you sleep at least?"
"Yes. I woke up an hour ago and went out to buy breakfast and a pill. We have to pack everything up because we need to check out by noon. Our bus leaves after lunch."
"OK."
Santana got up and went to the bathroom. She did her personal hygiene, washed her face, brushed her teeth and when she left the bathroom she saw Rachel drinking coffee and eating bread while watching the movement in the street through the window. It was kind a scene that Santana could write a song about it. Santana took the coffee and the other bread. She made an expression of pleasure when she realized that Rachel remembered her favorite.
"This is very good." Santana smiled.
"Mocha is your thing, I remember."
"Thanks!" Santana looked out the window and marveled at the movement by cars and people. "Chicago is so different from Lima... is New York like that too?"
"I think so." Rachel stared at her wife. "We graduate in two weeks."
"Yeah."
"I was thinking of moving to New York in the end of July or early August. I think we three might be able to rent a nice apartment by then. I'll send you all the options Kurt and I mark as a possibility. You should show us your ideas as well."
"I'm touched that you're going to include me in this discussion." Santana said wryly.
"Sorry… but you weren't exactly talking with me these last days."
"You can't blame me."
"No, I can't." Rachel finished drinking her coffee. "I was thinking about move to your place."
"There's an extra room in my place and I'm sure my mom will set everything perfectly to you."
"I was thinking of moving to your bedroom, not to a spare room."
"Why?"
"Because a three-bedroom apartment has an expensive rent. We will have to share a room when we move to New York. So, why not start now?"
"Oh, come on… It's not necessary."
"I think we should do this even to see how it goes, so we can adjust some things. We won't have the support we have in Lima."
"We didn't even date, and you already want to live together, in the same bedroom I mean? Like those kids from Marvel's Runaways? I don't think the rush is necessary. Why don't we stay in our respective places? We should try again be friends and date a little bit. And when we move to New York, well, then we'll talk about it again."
"Okay, first, you're a nerd in the closet! And second, maybe you're right. We should try to date, since we've already lived in the same roof for some time and I can't say it was a bad experience."
"Thank you."
Rachel took the pill and started packing to leave. There wasn't much in the luggage: just the competition dress, two changes of clothes, pajamas and shoes. She had also bought a souvenir from Chicago for her parents. Santana also finished the coffee and packed her own stuffs, which had a volume similar to Rachel's. They left the room thoughtful. Rachel was already with her mind at New York. It was always New York. She knew it would be a new stage in her life, and who knows, it would be a new chance to do it right.