Thanks to those of you who have been reviewing from Chapter 1 until now. This chapter is hopefully a peak into the intimate nature of the relationship between Rachel and Santana. It may seem like they are moving fast, but I'm going off the fact that these two are basically deprived of human touch and they are exploring their sexuality together. There may only be three or four chapters after this…it will deal with the upcoming surgery and the status of their relationship. Please, read and review.
Chapter 8
It was Monday night. Their limbs were tangled together, a dewy mist gleaming over their exerted, naked bodies. They lay in Santana's bed, Rachel's hair fanned across her shoulder, the kiss of cold air hardening her still rigid nipples. Her parents had left the house a mere forty minutes before, saying goodnight to their daughter and her now too familiar houseguest. Santana noticed the week before that their time together was getting too personal; alarmingly too intimate. They would lounge together in the aftermath of their sexual activity, Santana trailing lines that goose bumped the arm of her sexual partner.
She never told her to go home. Rachel was an eager, inquisitive bedmate, and they would cuddle on top of blankets, sometimes playing with each other's fingers or talking about things Santana never had the courage to speak aloud. Tonight, she was combing her fingers through Rachel's hard, massaging small circles into her scalp, answering her lazy questions halfheartedly, thinking about napping.
"What does it feel like? To be inside someone?"
"I wouldn't know. I've only been inside someone fingers deep."
"I know, but you will find out, eventually…"
"Oooh, Rachel you're giving me hints; should I go buy condoms?"
Rachel rolls her eyes, pulling to her side, resting her head on her open palm.
"You should always be prepared, Santana."
Santana smirked, cocking her eyebrow at the nymph in front of her.
"I bet it feels warm. And wet. Inviting maybe, or insufferably tight."
"I see you've been thinking about it."
Santana shrugged.
"I've been tempted. You'd be lying if you haven't at least thought about it one time since we've been doing this."
"It seems like we've been doing this forever; but not in a bad way."
"Stop trying to change the subject. Have you; thought about it I mean?"
"Of course I have, Santana. I'm curious, and its natural, to have that ache to be filled I guess. Do you have both needs?"
Santana twirled a few strands of her hair between her fingers.
"I guess. Sometimes I want to be inside you like my life depends on it. Other times I want you to fill me up with something; anything. There hasn't been a time yet that I've wanted both at the same time."
Rachel nodded her head, taking in the information like a sponge.
"I love the breeze. It's funny you always leave your window open, even when it's cold. I could just fall asleep like this."
"Well, we have all day tomorrow, to sleep I mean—no school remember?"
Santana tugged at her waist.
"Oh yea- voting day. Well, I have to do homework, and I have dance class at four—"
Rachel complied; pulling her leg over Santana's hip and rolling into an upright position, straddling her lap.
"We can study here, and I'll drop you off at dance class."
Rachel kissed her then, pecking tiny kisses full onto her lips, slowly deepening soon after, sliding her tongue into her mouth. Rachel was rubbing dangerously against her hardening penis, the intentional circles were lighting firecrackers behind Santana's hooded eyes.
"Do you think you'll let me do it?"
She stopped kissing Santana, sitting back on her lap; flush against her erection.
"It's only been two weeks… I've thought about it a lot and I—I wouldn't mind if it happened. It would just have to feel right."
Santana grabbed her breast, kneading it softly before leaning forward to kiss her. She was sitting hard between her legs, her hand silently joining the other before they came to rest on the top of her backside. She squeezed, rubbing herself between the other girls heat, pleased that residue of her arousal was streaked across her penis.
"We may never get the chance to make it perfect Rachel…"
"Why can't you ever call me that at school? I love the way you say it…"
They were rocking together, Santana thrusting her hips forward to try to sop up the wet.
"It would be too out of the ordinary, people see me talking to you—who knows what they'll think."
"They'll think we are friends. We are kind of friends, you know?"
"That's all fine and dandy, I'm just nervous they'll think I've gone soft, and I need my rep."
"What for? What's the point of everyone being afraid of you? No one gets close enough to the real you. I mean given you're rude, crass, violent and hormonal; but you're also sweet, intellectual, and complex."
"That rep does the job. People don't go poking their noses in my business. They don't ask questions about what I really am? I don't need all that."
Rachel shrugged.
"Well, I like you, and I don't judge you…even though I know 'what'", she air quoted the words, 'you are."
"Whatever, Rach, you don't like me; you like what I do to you."
"How do you figure?"
Santana returned to her back, her hands still playing with Rachel's breasts.
"You love that I make you feel something. You love being in control, but when you really get a chance to lose it, you lose it with me. You know me on a sexual level. You like the fact that I can make your body respond; because for a long time you thought there'd be no stars behind your eyelids."
Rachel rolled her eyes.
"I know that I like you, Santana. I like laying in bed together when we talk. You tell me stories from when you were younger and things you want to do in the future. You talk to me about Brittany, and how close you two are. You talk to me about what you only think about in your head, Santana, and I know that no one else knows that."
"Bullshit—"
"No I'm serious. I think you like it too. You like me too. You can't talk to anyone else about having to tuck yourself into your underwear, or show me pictures of you when you were younger and couldn't do a lot of the things everyone else did. Sometimes you kiss me with your eyes closed. It stopped being sex after that third day into it. I know this isn't just anything to you…"
"After the third day? What happened that made me run into your open arms?"
"When you realized that you were okay that Brittany had found someone she really liked. You started liking me a little more because you knew she'd be okay with Tiffany."
"Why do you have to overanalyze everything? I was horny, Rachel, Britt's off limits so I sent you a text. That's the agreement we have, Rach. Your terms remember?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Just admit that you like me, that you're okay being this way with me."
"You prove it means something, Berry."
Rachel looked at her, trying to gage how serious she was about her dare. She started kissing her, rocking dangerously on her lap before Santana flipped them over, hovering over her, staring her purposely in the eyes. She felt the tip of her penis poke at her entrance, Rachel breathing heavily beneath her. She was teetering dangerously at her opening, any sudden movement could land her inside of Rachel Berry. Rachel opened her mouth to speak, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her suddenly dry lips.
"What the fuck?"
They hadn't heard him slip through the open window, standing bemused at the two naked girls in his Monday night hookup's bed.
Rachel scrambled from beneath her, struggling to grab a sheet as she rolled off the bed. Santana stood, her palms facing flat as she waved off Puck's initial shock.
"Puck just—chill."
He look her in the eye before darting down to her half erect penis, and back to her face again.
"You're a—you're a dude! I let a dude suck me off? Oh my gosh I think I'm going to puke!"
He made wrenching noises, dry heaving as his body jerked from his spasming stomach. She grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around her naked body, and walking over to him.
"Puck it's really not what you think. Just calm down."
He backed away from her, pushing his hands out as he stumbled over one of her discarded books on the floor.
"I swear, dude, if you come near me I'm going to seriously kick you in the nuts."
She backed away, her chest heaving and falling as the boy in front of her panicked. Rachel had emerged from her bunker behind the bed, the thin sheet tied toga style around her body.
"Noah, Santana's not a boy, it's just a; it's just a strap-on."
"Bullshit! I can't believe I let a dude…ugh—I let a dude—"
He threw up into her trashcan then, Santana threw her arms up, walking over to the bed and plopping down ungracefully, her head in her hands. Rachel walked over to Puck, offering her hand out for him to stand. He took it with hesitation, flinching as she walked him over to Santana.
"Santana you might as well tell him the truth…"
000 0000 000
They all sat around the dining room table, Puck sitting with his hands in his lap in front of the baby book sitting in front of him. He was finally calming down from his rant, taking Santana seriously only when she showed him her official birth certificate. Rachel had gotten him a glass of water, and she sat quietly beside him while he processed the information.
"So…you're not a dude…you just have dude parts; but they're going to cut them off? And then you'll be all girl?"
"Yes, Puck."
"So—I didn't have oral sex with a dude?"
"No Puck."
"Alright cool."
Santana rolled her eyes.
"You're not going to tell anybody right?"
"And let them think I slept with a dude—no way."
"So you will never bring this up again?"
"Nope, I'm good. I'd rather not be the butt of that joke."
Rachel rolled her eyes then.
"So you two are together—that's weird. Can I watch?"
"No Puck, you can't watch. And no, we aren't together."
"Wait—you're tellin' me that you got into Berry's pants, before Broadway and a ring—bravo Lopez."
"I am right here, Noah—please don't be rude."
"Whatever. I'm going home. I need to like—jack off to some playboy so I know my junk won't fall off from fear."
"Remember, Puck, no one knows about any of this. Not anyone on the Cheerios, not anyone on the football team, not Britt, not Finn—no one."
"I got it, I got it. And Lopez, don't expect me on Monday's anymore. I um—I'll be elsewhere."
000 0000 000
The greatest force in the universe is gossip. It seeps through the crevices of every institution known to man. High school is no exception. Brittany was the talk of the school, the first openly gay Cheerio in history. There were no slushys, there were no pranks, or violent words exchanged. To be honest, no one really dared cross the blonde whenever she was in Santana's presence. They walked, pinkies linked down hallways, making their usual rounds before class. She walked past Rachel, making a comment about how her sweater looked like walking road kill. Rachel just shrugged her off, bouncing annoyingly down the hall toward the last class of the day.
She had been ignoring Rachel in the hallways, and she made a point not to speak to Noah in public. It was Thursday, and glee would come and go in a blur. All she could think about was how slowly her secrets would come forward, and somehow she'd be the talk of McKinely High. She stayed behind at the end of glee, saying goodbye to Brittany as she got ready to head to her girlfriend's house.
She watched Rachel gather her things, arranging them according to folder, and slipping it into her heavy roller bag. Santana cleared her throat.
"I was thinking about what you said the other day. Maybe—maybe we could find out what it feels like…together?"
Rachel nodded, brushing past Santana and walking out to her car. That night would be the night; she was sure.
End of Chapter 8
A/N: I am ending it here because you have to read Rachel's reaction to all this…and all the other things they've gotten themselves into over the past two weeks. Reviews are welcome and the give me inspiration. Thinking about posting my other story today…don't know how it will all play out.