A/N: Day 9! Again, we're gonna pretend it's still the same day and not 4 AM when I'm posting this. It's New Year's Eve with the gang, and Rachel and Quinn are the only non-couple out of their friends, and Rachel proposes an idea to Quinn. Enjoy!
Day 9: Hanging Out with Friends
Quinn loves her friends.
Well, that's pretty much a given, or she wouldn't be friends with them, but she thinks that she loves her friends more than the average human enjoys spending time with her friends. She also can't stand them at most times, but that's normal, right?
Quinn likes to think so.
She adores spending time with her own little Scooby Gang. Whenever they can all get together, that is. With her and Sam in New Haven and the rest in New York, she's often left feeling rather isolated from them. She has Sam, of course, and he truly has become one of her closest friends, but she often finds herself wishing that the distance wasn't as far as it was. The two hour train ride isn't exactly a full-day's trip, but it also isn't the twenty minute walk between her friends' apartments in Manhattan. (Plus, she could use a break from just hanging out with Sam all of the time.)
So, on days like these, when they get to take the train to New York to celebrate New Year's Eve with their friends, Quinn counts herself lucky. Of course, then they arrive at Rachel and Jesse's apartment, and Quinn remembers how much she abhors these people.
The minute they walk through the door, Sam is off to find his boyfriend (of six months), and Quinn is left standing by herself in the entryway to the apartment. She kicks her shoes off and picks up Sam's duffel that he had dropped at her feet, moving it out of the way. She carries her own bag to Rachel's room, where she usually sleeps when they stay here rather than at Santana and Brittany's place, and finds the aforementioned couple making out against the wall on her way there.
Quinn mutters, "Hey, guys," at them as she walks past, and Santana just throws a hand up and waves her off. Quinn moves on, having expected nothing less, and knocks on Rachel's door before slowly stepping in. Not seeing her, Quinn fully enters the room and sets her bag down in the corner. She hears familiar humming and the sound of footsteps coming closer, and Quinn smiles, knowing it's Rachel that's approaching.
Rachel, Quinn can truly and honestly say, is her best friend. They certainly had their rough times in high school, but after two and a half years of growing close during college, she has become Quinn's closest friend.
And Quinn's gigantic, steaming hot crush on her surely doesn't detract from that.
Quinn sits down on the bed and looks towards the door to see Rachel walk in, wearing only a bathrobe, drying her hair with a towel, clearly having just gotten out of the shower.
(Speaking of Quinn's steaming hot crush.)
When Rachel sees Quinn, she gasps, dropping the towel and clutching the top of her robe. "Quinn!"
Quinn's cheeks flush as she giggles and says, "Hi, Rach."
"I didn't know you were here already," Rachel explains, "What time is it?"
"Just after five."
Rachel's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, wow. I must have been in the shower longer than I thought. Are Brittany and Santana here? Where's Sam?"
Rachel steps further into the room, and Quinn stands up from the bed, respectfully turning her back as Rachel moves to, well, put some clothes on. She says, "Santana and Brittany are here. Last I checked they were making out against every surface of the apartment."
"Not surprising." Rachel comments.
"Yeah, right," Quinn laughs, "And Sam ran off to find Jesse as soon as we got here, so I just came in here."
"Also not surprising." Rachel says. "You know you're more than welcome in here whenever you need a break from those four."
"And you know I appreciate that." Quinn replies.
It's silent for a moment, and then Rachel asks, "Can you come help me with this necklace?"
Quinn slowly spins around, hand half-covering her eyes only to remove it when she sees that Rachel is fully clothed. Rachel shakes her head at her, clearly amused, as Quinn walks to her and grabs the necklace.
It's the one that Quinn had gotten Rachel for her birthday just two weeks ago, and the sight of it makes Quinn smile.
She grabs the necklace, loops it around Rachel's neck, and stands behind her to do the clasp. As she lets the necklace go, she watches Rachel adjust it in the mirror in front of them before she looks up to meet her eyes. Quinn blushes at having been caught staring at her, and Rachel just smiles, spinning around and throwing her arms around Quinn's shoulders. She hugs her back, gently placing her arms behind Rachel's back and pulling their bodies closer, into a more reverent hug.
"Hi, again." Rachel says, making Quinn laugh.
"Hi, again, to you too."
In these moments, Quinn can't help but picture them together, as a couple. How can she not, especially when she's hugging Rachel so closely and when their friend group consists of two other couples and then Quinn and Rachel? But her imagination is often brought back to reality fairly quickly when Rachel mentions some boy in her acting class, or her ex-boyfriend, Brody, or anything else that reminds Quinn that Rachel is very much straight and very much not interested in her (lesbian) best friend.
They pull back from their hug, and Rachel grins mischievously. "Wanna go find our friends and stop them from making out, so we can hang out?"
Quinn just laughs and follows Rachel out of the room.
Later that night, the six of them are all sitting around the living room in various states of inebriation. The past hours had been spent eating, drinking, playing games, talking, drinking, singing, dancing, drinking, laughing, arguing, drinking.
Did she mention that they had been drinking?
Quinn, herself, is only on her second glass of wine, so she's not nearly at the level of, say, Sam, who is nearly passed out on top of Jesse on the couch, but she's certainly tipsy. She's more careful with her alcohol these days, and she much prefers remembering the time she spends with her friends than not remembering. However, she has also been known to get blackout drunk at bars off-campus and stumble home, waking up Sam on multiple occasions; tonight, it seems, is just not one of those nights. She wants to enjoy these moments with her friends and keep the memories for years to come.
Her friends, on the other hand, are all having the times of their lives.
Midnight is in fifteen minutes, and Quinn is in the kitchen, pouring the champagne into six plastic, dollar-store champagne flutes, when Rachel walks over. Quinn eyes her for a moment, decides she won't be any sort of hazard, and continues her motions.
"Whatcha doin?" Rachel asks coyly.
"Pouring our champagne." Quinn says, not looking up at her.
Rachel picks up the cup she's currently pouring the liquid into and looks at it before downing the contents. It was only half-full, but Quinn laughs at the sight.
"Rachel, those are for midnight!" She chastises, taking the cup from her hand. She fills it back up and pushes Rachel a few steps back from her.
Rachel, ever persistent, closes the distance between them, standing even closer to Quinn than she was before. Quinn ignores her brown eyes staring holes into her as she finishes filling up the glasses with champagne.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Rachel asks.
Quinn nods, grabbing four of the glasses and walking to hand them to her friends. Rachel waits patiently in the kitchen until Quinn comes back and gives her her full attention.
"Yes?" Quinn says, grabbing her own champagne flute from the counter.
Rachel grins, whispering, "I think we should kiss at midnight."
Quinn drops her cup, and it clatters onto the ground. The champagne spills at her feet, but she can't find it in herself to care, her mind spinning with Rachel's words.
"You think we should what?"
"I think we should kiss at midnight." Rachel repeats, eyebrows furrowing. "Is that not what I said the first time?"
"No, it is, I just…" Quinn trails off, not even knowing where to go from here.
What does one say in this situation? Quinn has read a lot of self-help books, but none of them have ever covered this scenario before.
"What?" Rachel asks, frowning. "Do you not think it's a good idea?"
Quinn shakes her head. "Why?"
"Why, what?"
"Why should we kiss?" Quinn elaborates, desperate to hear drunk Rachel's thought process here.
"Oh," Rachel explains, "Well, Santana and Brittany are obviously going to kiss since they are together, as are Sam and Jesse, and I find myself unfortunately single on this night, as do you," Here, Quinn frowns, but Rachel continues, "So I figured it would be mutually beneficial to us both."
Quinn stays silent as she runs all of this through her head. Rachel wants to kiss her at midnight… because they're both single? Sure, this is exactly the perfect time for them to kiss, when they are both single, but this isn't how Quinn wants it to happen. Especially not as some drunken, forget-it-happened-by-the-morning situation.
"I don't think this is the best idea." Quinn admits.
Rachel pouts. "Do you not want to kiss me?"
She knows Rachel is drunk, but the sound of her whining, upset at the thought of Quinn not wanting to kiss her, has Quinn's insides doing somersaults. Of course she wants to kiss her. Of course she does. But Rachel doesn't know that, and Rachel doesn't need to know that. Rachel doesn't need to know that Quinn wants to kiss her whenever they are together and has wanted to for years now.
Quinn sighs. "Rachel, I… Look, you're drunk, and I don't want you doing anything that you might regret in the morning. We don't need a midnight kiss to prove anything to ourselves."
Rachel frowns harder. "But I won't regret it."
"And how can you be sure of that?" Quinn counters.
"Because I've wanted to kiss you for a while."
If Quinn was holding another glass of champagne, she's sure she would have dropped it again.
Rachel wants to kiss her. Rachel has wanted to kiss her. For a while, whatever that even means. What does it mean?
"What do you mean?" Quinn asks, eyes searching Rachel's for answers she so desperately seeks.
She hears her friends start to count down from the living room, and Rachel grabs her hand, pulling her over. "Come on, the countdown is starting!"
Quinn lets herself be pulled, Rachel's words and the sensation of her hand grasping her own too much for her to handle. Rachel doesn't even have her glass of champagne; Quinn's is still laying, empty, on the kitchen floor.
As the countdown nears zero, Quinn is staring at Rachel, wondering what the hell is about to happen. Midnight hits, the ball in Times Square drops, and her question is quickly met with the sound of cheering, shouts of "Happy New Year," and Rachel's lips on her own.
Quinn is frozen in place at the first touch of Rachel's lips to hers. Her mind is spinning, insides turning, as Rachel kisses her, her eyes fluttering shut. For a moment, Quinn considers pulling away and calling it a night, not wanting this to escalate into something she'd regret. Then, she remembers Rachel's words.
Because I've wanted to kiss you for a while.
Fuck it.
Quinn tilts her head, parts her lips, and kisses Rachel back. She hears Rachel squeal as she presses further into her, her bottom lip sliding in between Quinn's. They kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss; Rachel tastes like tequila and champagne and cherry lip gloss, and Quinn can't get enough.
The feeling is indescribable. Whatever Quinn had previously imagined kissing Rachel Berry would feel like is thrown out the window at the overwhelming onset of emotions that flood her senses as she kisses her.
When Rachel runs her tongue along Quinn's lower lip, then slips it into her mouth, eliciting moans from them both? Screw fireworks; Quinn sees stars. She sees stars, bright, shining stars, that all remind her of Rachel and the fact that Quinn is actually kissing her right now.
Eventually, they both pull away, desperate for air. They're both panting, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked on each other. It's a moment Quinn will never forget, her eyes locked on Rachel's as they both process what just happened.
"Holy shit."
Quinn jerks her head back slightly, noticing all of their friends standing there and staring at them. The room is quiet, too quiet, before Jesse interrupts the silence.
"Alright, pay up." He says.
Quinn's confused as everyone sighs and goes into their wallets to grab what looks like twenty dollars each and hands the money to Jesse. Then, it dawns on her.
"You guys were betting on us?" Quinn accuses, and Rachel leans forward into her, wrapping an arm around her back and laughing into her neck.
"Uh, yeah." Sam shrugs. "I thought it was gonna be Valentine's Day."
"I thought it was gonna be Rachel's birthday when you gave her that necklace." Brittany says.
Santana laughs, "And I was banking on you two not getting your shit together until the end of the school year, at least."
Quinn glares at all of them, but when Rachel ignores their friends and coaxes her into another kiss, she is all too happy to comply. After all, who is she to deny Rachel such a simple pleasure?
(The next morning, Quinn wakes up, curled behind Rachel in bed, worrying that she forgot the whole thing ever happened. When Rachel turns over and presses a kiss to her lips, Quinn knows she didn't, and she knows they're gonna be alright.)