So, I have been reading Faberry fanfictions for a while and I decided to write one. I hope you'll enjoy.
This story is short A/U multichapter and it is based in NYC with Older!Faberry.
'Till I see stars in my eyes
Part 1
Clubs aren't her thing. She hates the dark lights and the loud music hurting her ear. She hates the way people act when there is too much alcohol - or even something else - in their system. She hates that she has to try twice harder to keep unwanted attention off her or turn men down, who just think she needs a drunk man to make her night.
"What's your name?" As predicted, a new anonymous man - in his damp suit and messy hair - slurs from the stool beside where she stands. He leans over, trying to get her to look at him but she just avoids him, trying to locate her friends in the mass of people standing on the dance floor or sitting in the booths around it. "Hey, I am talking to you. What's your name, baby?"
"Not interested." Rachel turns away from him, meeting a pair of hazel eyes across the room. It is odd how she manages to catch a glimpse of the color of her eyes through the neon lights, but they're simply mesmerising.
"Hey! I am talking to you!" A hand reaches for her wrist, forcing her to turn back towards him who is now standing and towering over her. Despite her heels, she could never match his height nor escape his stronger grip.
"Let me go, now." She tries to pull away from his grip, but he is now standing closer and she can smell the alcohol on his breath.
"One drink, maybe one dance too…" He leans in and she takes a step back, but the counter is against her back and she has nowhere else to go.
"I think she told you to let her go, man." A third voice is loud enough to be heard by them. Rachel catches a glimpse of those same eyes, darkened with rage and the hands balled in fists at her sides. "You should let her go, now."
"Listen, girl…" The man turns to look at her and his frown turns into a smirk. "Hi, aren't you a pretty thing?" He drops Rachel's hand to take a step closer to the blonde, who doesn't falter and stands her ground. "Why don't you and your friend here come home with me? I am sure I can entertain you both."
"I really doubt you'll manage to satisfy one of us, let alone two." She scoffs and discretely reaches for Rachel's hand, tugging her from behind him so she can slip behind her. "Go home and get some rest, you need it." She nods at Rachel and starts leading her away from him, but he has different ideas. He reaches for the blonde and grabs her by her free hand, pulling her away from the brunette.
"You don't walk away from me, got it?" He tries to grab her by the waist but she is quicker and within a bunch of seconds, he finds himself pressed against the counter, face against it, with his arm twisted behind his back. "Let me go, bitch."
"Sorry, what did you just say?" She hovers behind him, keeping him pressed against the counter. "I don't think I've heard you properly."
"Let me go. I got it okay, let me fucking go." He groans, cheek rubbing against the rough counter.
"Good boy, now get out of my sight." She pushes him forward once more, before releasing him from her tight grip.
"Psycho bitch." He fixes his rumpled suit and grabs his drink, to move the fastest away from where they stand.
"You're alright there?" The blonde turns to Rachel who has witnessed everything, without doing really much about it.
"I'm fine, thank you." Rachel is still slightly shaken by the events but she is not sure why her heart is still beating so fast. She wonders if it's because of the guy or it's because of the girl standing there, with darkened eyes and a face of an angel.
"He didn't hurt you, did he?" She gets closer, so she can hear the softer tone of her voice.
"No, he just grabbed my hand." She looks down at her wrist, still aching but not really bruising.
"Let me see." She takes it gently, running her thumb over the tattoo she has marked herself with, for her 21st birthday. "I don't think it will bruise." She caresses it with her thumb and looks up at the brunette, who is staring at her. "Is something wrong?"
"Can I offer you a drink? To thank you for coming to my rescue." She nods to the bar behind them.
"Sure, let's get something to drink." She drops her hand and Rachel already misses her gentle touch. "I'm Rachel." She touches her elbow, to catch her attention as they move towards the bar.
"Quinn." The blonde smiles at her and finds an empty spot, where they can chat and be on their own, without any further intrusion.
"I'll get a beer, what do you want to drink?" She leans over the counter to catch the bartender's attention.
"Gin Tonic is fine." She nods to the blonde who places their order with the guy behind the counter, as blonde as she is.
"What do you do here in New York? Are you studying?" She leaves a 20$ on the counter for the bartender and uncaps her beer bottle with ease. She twists it in her palm and throws the metal cap in the bin behind the counter.
"No. I graduated a few years ago and I am working on Broadway." Rachel plays with the olive in her glass and looks at her, expecting to find the usual bored look. "I landed my first role as a lead with this new show."
"That sounds great." Quinn sips from her beer and leans closer to hear her and be heard. "What's the name of the show?"
"Spring Awakening." Rachel sips from her glass and turns around to catch her supposedly friends somewhere.
"If I bore you, you can leave you know?" Quinn chuckles. "You're not my prisoner."
"I was supposed to meet my friends here." She shouts a little louder than she has intended to. "I give up, though. Are you here with someone else?"
"Not really." Quinn shakes her head and finishes her beer with one long gulp.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Rachel finishes hers and reaches out with her hand. She holds it mid-air and when Quinn takes it, she just leads them out of there.
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"My ears hurt." She rubs them slowly, as they walk down the street and away from the club.
"That's because you're used to the good music. That thing is only some disturbing noise to encourage drinking and bad choices." Quinn kicks a small rock with her shoe and looks at the brunette with a smile. "You've always lived here? In New York, I mean."
"I wish. I was born and raised in a small town in Ohio, but I've always wanted to move here from what I remember." Rachel smiles at the memory. "There's no place like this city."
"I agree. It has a lot to offer." She nods and looks up above their heads, to the clear sky. "You can be everything you want to be here and that's what freedom feels like."
"Like the naked cowboy in Times Square?" She chuckles and stops at the crossroad, caught by the lights coming from their right. Times Square was so bright even at 1 AM.
"Yes. Exactly like that." Quinn turns to stare at the hordes of people gathered on the stairs. Some taking pictures, some simply resting their feet.
"Are you hungry? I could eat some." Rachel turns them the opposite way, walking the familiar streets to her neighborhood.
"You know the area well? You live around here?" Quinn follows her. She falls into steps with her, hands at her sides and brushing whenever they step in closer, to avoid a street lamp or letting someone else walk past them.
"Just two blocks away, within walking distance from the theater." Rachel nods softly and stops in front of a bakery. "I moved in there three years ago and never left it. Rent is blocked and it's safe enough."
"That's pure luck." Quinn smiles and looks at her. "What are you in the mood for?"
"Do you want to get a slice of strawberry cheesecake? It's too late to eat it here but we can…" She nods to their whereabouts.
"Take it home, to your place maybe?" Quinn smirks suggestively.
"If you want to. We can have a cup of tea or something stronger and eat it, on my couch." Rachel blushes and looks away from her knowing smirk.
"You better be right about this cake." She walks inside the shop, with a renewed confidence and with the brunette on her tails.
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"Alright, alright. Gotta give it to you, it's one of the best cheesecakes I've ever tasted in my whole life." Quinn leans back into the couch, licking her lips clean.
"Told you." Rachel finishes her plate and sits it on the coffee table, beside Quinn's. "I am never mistaken."
"Modest aren't we? So, what else do you want to share with the class?" Quinn leans her head on her hand and looks at the brunette, sitting sideways on the couch.
"I am just saying I was right. I usually am." Rachel mirrors her pose and stares at her. "What's your story?"
"My story?" Quinn smiles softly, arm stretched over the back of the couch.
"You know who I am and where I come from. What's your story?" She stretches her arm over Quinn's, fingers tracing her upper arm.
"I come…" She furrows her brows. "I come from a suburban town upstate, I moved here six months ago because I needed a change of scenery. A fresh start, you know?"
"Yeah, I know. Leaving Lima felt the same, I needed a fresh start to focus on my dreams. I couldn't hold onto those anchors anymore." Rachel trails her fingers along her arm.
"Anchors like ex-boyfriends or girlfriends?" Lifting her arm, her knuckles brushed along the side of her face, watching her eyes flutter closed.
"My ex-boyfriend, yes." Rachel opens her eyes when she feels Quinn scoot closer, knees brushing and a foot locking around her ankle.
"Is there anyone in your life?" Quinn's fingers brush her hair back, to expose her neck to a gentle mouth.
"Not for a while." Rachel tilts her head back to leave her more room. To let her kiss more skin or find new spots to nuzzle against. "You?"
"It's complicated, but technically no one." Her hand drops on her side, tugging at the fabric of the dress she wore to get closer.
"And non-technically?" Rachel tilts her head back to stare down into her dark eyes.
"Still no one." Quinn leans in to breathe against her parted mouth. She leans in to brush her lips over hers, touching them enough to make Rachel whimper when she pulls back, teasingly.
"Do you…" Rachel sighs in her lips and tangles her hands in her hair. She tilts Quinn's head to the right and attacks her with her mouth, seeking for her. "Do you want to move this to my bedroom?" She nibbles on Quinn's bottom lip.
She feels the effect she has on Quinn against her side. She feels it in the way she is clinging to her dress, leaving half moon shaped marks on her skin.
"Later. I don't want you to go anywhere." She pushes her back enough to lay her down and settle between her legs, dress bunched over her waist.
Rachel feels like in one of those movies she has stumbled upon, in her last girlfriend's browser history.
She has watched more than she has ever done with her, but it was enough to make her want to play those scenes with the blonde woman on top of her.
"You're sure about this?" Quinn breathes hotly against her ear. Her fingers are against the elastic of her panties, ready to tug them off after her approval.
"Yes. Yes, please." Rachel nips at her earlobe and slides her hands down the back of her jeans, to get under all her clothes. With one squeeze against her backside, she feels her panties being ripped unceremoniously off.
"You're drenched." Quinn replaces her knee with her palm. The blonde rubs her core slowly and she just squeezes the ass in her hands. She scratches that pale skin, confined under tight jeans, and feels Quinn's fingers move, exploring her sex with curiosity.
"You're overdressed." Rachel slides her hands up her back to the hem of her shirt and tugs it off her, baring her upper body to her eyes and her hands.
"You're overdressed now." Quinn chuckles, dropping her hand back between her thighs so she can resume her lingering touches.
"Not where I need it the most." Rachel nods towards the apex of her thighs and pulls at her dress, revealing more of her skin.
"Can I?" Quinn slides down to her knees and pulls her to the edge of the couch, both legs draped over her shoulders.
"You…" Rachel's head lolls back against the back of the couch as soon as her hot breath brushes over her damp thighs. "Yes, please."
"Aren't you the polite one?" Quinn smirks up at her and then leans forward, pressing a feather like kiss against the skin below her navel. "Here?"
"Lower." Rachel's hand drops to her head and she pushes her down. She pushes her lower until she can feel her breath against her wet lips.
"What a wonderful smile." She chuckles and her tongue dips where she needs it the most. She swirls it around and caresses her slowly, her touch is hot but it feels like a bucket of ice on a hot summer day.
It gives Rachel a relief she desperately needs and yet, she craves more.
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She is not really familiar with waking up with strangers in her bed. An attractive naked stranger that has taken her for hours, until she has begged to stop and catch her breath.
Until she has succumbed to the tiredness of their activities, with the blonde beside her. Close enough to feel her proximity. Far enough not to feel crowded.
Turning her head, to stretch her neck and find another way to settle down for more rest, she is drawn by her bedmate.
She is lying there, one arm bent behind her head and the other over her stomach, holding the sheet over her waist
She is lying there, stretched like one of those statues that she has admired for years. Like one of those statues made of alabaster, with muscles tensing and a plastic immobility that have always left her speechless.
She can't help but lean over and trail her finger along the side of her exposed neck. She follows the vein from her ear down to the base of her collarbone.
She traces it with her eyes and the pad of her finger. It's like a feather touch. Like a brush on a canva. On a perfect immaculate canva that she can't wait to explore.
She expects to startle her. She expects her to move away from her, but Quinn lies still. She lies still, gaze lost out of the window to catch a glimpse of the sun rising over New York. She keeps staring outside, while Rachel keeps staring at her.
"Can't sleep?" Rachel's hand slides down to rest against her shoulder, where she settles her cheek to follow her gaze outside the window. Sunrises in New York were her favorite.
"Yeah." Quinn nods. Her arm slides further up to graze along her exposed side with the back of her hand. It is a gentle caress compared to all the heavy touches they have shared all night long.
"I thought I had worn you out." She chuckles and kisses her chest, nuzzling the golden chain with the tip of her nose.
"You have." Quinn's fingertips find the tattoo on the side of her ribcage. She touches her with reverence. Reading with her touch, rather than with her eyes.
"You're here, but you feel miles away." Rachel's fingers reach behind her ear, tucking her hair back to see a small mark at the base of her earlobe. Three letters, entwined together. "L Q F."
"What?" Quinn's head turns so abruptly that she worries about a whiplash.
"I read it here." She touches the skin with her forefinger. "What does it mean?"
"Nothing." Quinn takes her hand. She takes her palm and brings it to her lips, kissing her love line. "I should get out of your hair."
"I am not kicking you out." Rachel uses her momentum to cup the side of her face and lean up to brush their lips for a tender kiss. She has never kissed a one night stand so softly. But Quinn is not just that. She is a puzzle she wants to put together.
"I know." Curling on her side, her arm slips around her waist and with ease, she pulls Rachel across the mattress and on top of her, between her thighs.
"You're strong." She braces herself against her shoulders, to be able to stare down into her eyes.
"You're not that heavy." The familiar smirk shows up on her face and Rachel's certainties falter. Quinn smirks and Rachel is lost in that smile.
"Do you have somewhere to be?" Rachel stretches like a cat against her. She makes sure to stretch slowly enough to feel every inch of Quinn press into her, without the slickness of sweat facilitating it. It is skin on skin. Chest to chest. Hips to hips.
"Not really, no." Quinn meets her halfway. She leans in when Rachel leans down, to breathe against her mouth and let her feel every word. Every intake of her breath.
"So, you're all mine." Rachel grabs her hands and stretches their arms above their heads. With nothing to brace against, she drops fully against the blonde who whimpers with her. She whimpers when their hips roll slowly, almost on their own.
"Apparently." Quinn licks her bottom lip and then nibbles on it. She alternates light touching with a hungry nipping, that makes Rachel settle more against her. She presses her hard into the mattress.
"Fuck." She crashes her mouth over Quinn, stretching their arms out on the mattress, while their bodies find their way back against each other.
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Quinn leans against the counter, ankles crossed and the usual smirk that unnerves and, at the same time, makes Rachel's heat pool in her lower regions. She watches her with fake disinterest, while she has her hands soapy and wet from washing the remnants of breakfast off plates.
"It's a sink, never saw one before?" She is tempted to spray her with water but it will just make things worse. Mostly for her.
"Not really. Are pretty brunettes included in the package?" She hands her a towel and pushes herself off the counter, when Rachel rolls her eyes and starts walking away from her.
"You can tone the charme down, I already slept with you didn't I?" Rachel fixes the magazines on the coffee table, mindful not to linger too much on the couch where she has come so quickly, that the Mailman didn't work.
"What does a girl need to do to get your number, then?" Quinn leans over the back of the couch, staring at the woman moving around to fix the mess they have made the night before.
"What makes you think I will give you my number?" Rachel stands there, arms crossed over her chest and clad in a long NYADA shirt that reaches past her knees.
She jumps over the back of the couch and lands perfectly in front of the brunette. The usual smirk gets even wider at her obvious reaction. "That's why."
"Arrogance won't get you anywhere with me, Quinn." Rachel tries to move past her but she finds herself in the circle of the blonde's arms, with her hands trapped between their bodies in a grip that she can escape but she doesn't really want to.
"Gotcha." Quinn's lips whisper the word in her ear. The same lips kiss the shape of her ear, while familiar fingers slide along her back to disappear under the hem of her shirt.
"Quinn." Rachel pulls back to stare at the blonde. Her hands trail along her chest, fisting the collar of the shirt she has worn the night before. It is so soft. The fabric feels expensive under her touch.
"Rachel." Quinn leans tentatively in to touch her forehead with hers. She brushes the tip of their noses together, until they tilt their heads the opposite way to meet halfway.
Rachel kisses her hard. She fists her shirt and kisses her harder. She kisses her like she is expecting this to never end. Like she wants to drag her back to her bedroom and claim her for hours, until the world comes to an end around them.
"Say your number." Quinn breathes hard into her mouth. She breathes in, like her lungs have no more oxygen to sustain her.
"But…" Rachel can find a piece of paper or just her phone. She just can make sure she gets all the numbers punched in, so they can see each other again. "212-201-XX."
"I'll call you." Quinn extricates herself from her arms and heads for the door, leaving her flustered and aching for a repeat performance of their night together. "See you, Broadway." She walks out of the door and Rachel stands there, still wondering what the fuck has just happened.
to be continued - comments and thoughts?