"What's this?" Rachel asks, picking up the fan that you bought at the second hand store. She spotted it when she walked in from her show.
You look up from your place on the couch, the book in your hand dropping to your lap, "That's a hint. The date is tomorrow and you have been very patient."
She picks it up and looks it over. Closed it doesn't look like much, but when she opens it the vibrant colors practically jump out. It's not exactly the one you wanted, but it was as close as you could get on such short notice. The colors radiate out from the middle in cool blues, purples, and greens. You did make sure it matches the dress that she's going to be wearing though.
She turns to you and fans herself, "Is this date going to be hot Quinn? Ooh are we going to Spain?"
"No unless I win the lottery between now and tomorrow," you quirk an eyebrow. That's quite a jump from a fan to Spain.
"The beach?" she asks, walking toward you.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but we're staying on the island," you state, closing your book and setting it on the coffee table. You know she's not really disappointed. She's fishing. And if she's lucky, she may get a few nibbles, but absolutely no bites. You worked way too hard on this date for it to lose its shock value when she walks in.
She looks the fan over and looks at the bottom. "Japanese food?"
"Where'd you get that?" you ask, completely perplexed at this point.
"It was made in Japan," she offers, flopping down on the couch next to you. "C'mon Quinn. I need more of a hint."
You grin at her and shake your head, "No you don't." Your eyes flicker to the DVD case next to the TV that this whole date is based on. You doubt that she'll ever figure it out if she's starting at Spain and Japan. You feel your stomach rumble before you can actually hear it. You haven't eaten today except for a couple crackers that Santana had on her while you were in the apartment you're 'borrowing' while setting up the furniture. You'd done nothing but prep for the date (including full on panicking) today and that's pretty much all you're going to do tomorrow.
"Are you hungry?" she asks, closing the fan and tapping it on your knee.
You nod tiredly, "I haven't eaten much today." You look at your phone and see that it's already past ten. You rub your eyes. You really just want to go to bed. You can eat tomorrow. You're stealing Santana away for breakfast before last minute prep and hopefully a pep talk from her. Then you show an apartment because you've been really slacking at work lately and as much as you don't really like your job, you figure that you should keep it until you decide what else you're going to do. You start to go over the itinerary in your head. You get dressed at the apartment, make sure everything is done and then try not to panic as Brittany escorts Rachel from her show to the apartment. Simple. Easy.
"Do you want me to make you something?" Rachel asks, inching closer to you. Finally she kisses your cheek and smoothes out the hair sticking out of your ponytail. "We have some hummus left over."
You tilt your head down and catch her eyes. They're so full of concern and caring that a shiver runs through your body, radiating out over your limbs. A smile works its way onto your lips and you kiss her forehead, "No. I'll grab something on the way to bed. I'm exhausted."
She looks disappointed, "Really?
You nod again. You give her a hopeful smile, "I suggest you go to bed too. You have a big day tomorrow."
Her face lights up. She picks up the fan again and studies it. "I do?"
You roll your eyes, "Mhmm." You finally manage to heave yourself off of the couch and stretch. While your arms are over your head, she let's a finger trace along the top of your sweatpants. You nearly faint on the spot. Her finger goes the more innocent route after that, running down the seam along the side. "Fine. I'll cuddle with myself."
The way she says cuddle makes your stomach drop into your knees. All the heat in your body migrates to the place between your legs and you gulp hard. A single finger on your skin shouldn't turn you on that much. You pray that she's hinting at what you're thinking of. You also pray that she's not.
"Have fun," you tell her and have to fight your legs from running to your room. You don't close the door because you never close the door. You and Rachel have an unspoken rule. You leave the doors open at night. You do it so she'll know if she has a nightmare that she can always come to you. You figure that she does it for much the same reason. You also think it had something to do with when you first told her about your feelings, showing you that she trusted you.
You dive under your covers and squeeze your legs together hoping that this goes away. You really don't want to have to take care of it. Not tonight of all nights. Especially when the door to your room is open and the light to the living room is still sneaking in.
After a few minutes, the light goes off and you let out a sigh of relief. She's going to bed too. You roll over and squeeze your eyes shut. You're still mostly clueless about the whole sex thing and it's freaking you out. The kisses you two have shared haven't even involved any tongue. You think that if you even felt her tongue on your, you may die.
It's not that you assume that tomorrow night will lead to sex, but what if it does? You know that you're going to have to ask for help tomorrow. You really don't want to have to watch porn. That's your last resort. Santana is a doctor in training. Maybe she can explain it clinically. You groan and roll over. That's going to be awkward as hell.
And when you stumble across the words, asking her if she could walk you through it, a mortified expression covers her face.
"With anyone else?" she asks, "Whatever, but I can't tell you have to go down on Rachel Berry. I'm still trying to get past you two kissing each other. My brain can't get past it. Nuh uh. No way."
"Please San," you plead. You really, really, really don't want to have to resort to studying porn. You glance around the small coffee shop and then return your eyes to their spot, glued to the top of your cup. "What if she wants to…do it tonight?"
"Do you want to?" without even looking at her you know that her arms are crossed and her head is cocked to the side.
You swallow hard and think it over. You're not trying to decide if you want to. You're trying to decide it there's a day in your life that you didn't want to make love that woman. You nod firmly, "Yeah. I just…don't know how."
Santana huffs and leans forward on the table. "This is fucking awkward as shit, but…what do you think about when you…you know fantasize about her?"
Your eyes widen. Definitely awkward. You pause. It's mostly just kissing. You're both naked and panting, writhing together on a bed. Then it hits you. You don't actually know what you're doing to make her pant like that. You don't know what she's doing to you. Suddenly you realize that you've been becoming turned on by PG visions of sex. "Oh my god," you huff and drop your head onto the coffee table, "I'm screwed."
"Well not yet," Santana chuckles at her own joke. "Q," she pauses as you pick your head up, "I've been putting off this call, but it's apparent that it has to happen." She picks up her phone that was resting on the table and punches a few numbers, "Just know that when you put Brittany into over-share mode it doesn't go off for a while. Forget everything she says about me. Remember that she's a fucking sex goddess and if you're half as good as her, Berry will never look at anyone else again." With a reluctant sigh, Santana puts the phone to her ear. "Hey beautiful." You 'aww' at that and Santana rolls her eyes. You listen intently as she tells Brittany that you need help. She nods even though Brittany can't see her, "Yeah it's about that think we talked about." She glances up at you, "I know right?" After a few more seconds, Santana says, "Hop into a dressing room and give Q the crash course okay?…love you too."
Santana hands the phone to you. You carefully take the phone. You feel like you should be doing this in a dimly lit room with black curtains. Certainly not in a crowded coffee shop by the window as the sun illuminates clouds in the overcast sky.
By the time Brittany is finished, you're sure that your face is permanently red. Brittany was kind enough to explain multiple ways that two women could have sex, including the inclusion of certain…things one could buy at certain stores if one so desired.
"Help?" Santana asks, setting down her medical journal that she was reading.
You slide the phone across the table to her and drop your head in your hands, "Well if things don't work out with Rachel, I certainly know how you like it in bed."
You hear her across the table mutter, "Oh god." After a beat she adds, "Look, worse comes to worst you wing it. Listen to her. Pay attention to how she moves to whatever you're doing. Rachel has never been quiet in her whole damn life and I'm sure that applies to her sex life."
You nod. Santana's probably right. "Okay, can we just…move on? Read me the article you're reading or something so maybe I can look at you and Brittany in the same room together again by the time you get married."
Santana immediately starts reading to you and after a few articles you feel a little better. She finally has to leave to get to class and you have to get back to pick up some things before going to your apartment after Rachel leaves for her show.
The first thing you pick up is her dress. You couldn't find one that looked right so Brittany got some names for you and you had it made. You picked up her shoes as well. Then you texted Ethan. He was on the lookout for Rachel's departure. When the security guard at the front door saw he leave, he is going to call Ethan and Ethan is going to call you. You'll set everything up there and run over to the other apartment to get yourself ready.
Your hands shake as you wait for Brittany to get Rachel to the apartment. Everything is set up exactly how you want it. You already lit the candles because Brittany texted you and told you that they were on the way.
The apartment you're in has thirty-foot ceilings with a wall of complete glass that overlooks the lights of the city with the river in the background. You found a lofted apartment because you absolutely love them. Right now you're standing at the edge of the second story bedroom, overlooking the living room, leaning on the short wall. There's a glass of champagne sitting on top of the wall you're using for a railing and there has only been a few sips from it because you're freaking out. You twirl the white rose in your hand and wonder if it's too 'Bachelorette' for a date. Damn that show for ruining roses. You brought up a blue flower that you don't know the name of just in case you decided against the rose. The blue one is for her hair though. You sigh and start pacing. You're going to have a panic attack by the time this is over.
You look down and see the table for two you set up. The cream-colored tablecloth swept the dark hardwood floors. The chairs you bought had to be reupholstered in deep red but they came out beautifully with their high back and dark wood decorations. All around the living room, on the floor and a few on the table were gold candles. The flames on top made the whole candle shimmer in the dark. Closer to the window, but still close to the table was a red lounge chair. This was the most important piece of the date. It was the one piece that would solidify for her that you have just recreated the first date scene in her favorite movie. There's an antique floor lamp a few feet from the lounge chair, but it doesn't light much, which was your intention. You even found a few short statues to put along the walls to add to the detail.
You smooth out your own black dress and let out a long breath. You may be in love with Rachel, but nothing would ever get you into a tux. Santana assured you that you looked good in the dress. It's simple and elegant. The material ends at your knees and black heels complete your outfit. Your hair is half up and curled at the ends. You hope she likes what you're wearing.
Your phone buzzes on the floor by your purse. That's Brittany's warning. They're here. After five agonizing minutes, you wait. Finally, the door opens. Rachel tentatively steps into the apartment. You see a peek of Brittany as she closes the door behind Rachel.
For a moment you can't speak. In the blue dress that you had made for her, she's breathtaking. The plunging neckline, the deep dip in the back, the way it clings to her hips, but pools at her feet. There's so much to look at that your eyes are darting everywhere.
After she takes in everything, she smiles. She has the fan you gave her tightly clenched in her hand. Finally her eyes find you. You smile nervously back. She licks her lips before biting her bottom lip. She doesn't say anything so you pick up the flowers and your champagne and make your way down the stairs. You've never been more scared of tripping in your whole like, but when you make up to the ground floor in one piece you take a breath. She meets you next to the table and you see her eyes are shimmering in the candlelight.
You're glad that she wore her hair down. You gently slide the blue flower into her hair above her left ear. Then you offer her the white rose. She looks from it to you. Finally the tears building up in her eyes start to fall. They're silent and slow to move. You smile gently at her, wondering what she was thinking. You softly wipe away the tears that escaped and quietly add, "Don't cry."
The biggest smile you've ever seen takes over her face. She looks to the table and then to the windows before looking back at you, "This is…I can't- no one…" she ducks her head and laughs, "I can't even speak."
"That's okay," you assure her and pull her into a hug. She finally relaxes against you. She pulls back slightly and surprises you with an intense kiss. You were right. When her tongue tentatively touches your bottom lip, you die a little bit.
But it doesn't get much more intense than that. She pulls away with a smile and sighs contently, "Is this really all for me?"
"Just for you," you walk over to the table and pull her chair out for her.
She obliges and sits down, eyeing the silver dome covering the food. You look at her from across the table before pouring her some champagne.
"This is," Rachel trails off, looking around some more, "This is just so much. I never expected this. It's beautiful and perfect and amazing Quinn. And so thoughtful."
You can't help, but beam with pride. It was a lot of work, but seeing her face right now made it all worth it. "Was it worth waiting a week for?"
"Definitely," she answers with a nod. "I love that chaise. Is it yours?"
"Mhmm," you nod, setting her champagne in front of her.
She bounces a little in her seat, "I've been looking for one of those forever. It's gorgeous and these chairs…Quinn I'm overwhelmed. This is-"
You're delighted and warm all over. This is going better than you could have imagined. She asks if you made her roast beef and potatoes with a giggle. You lift the dome to reveal the completely vegan meal under it.
"I was wondering where my Funny Girl DVD went," she says between bites, "You stole it didn't you?"
You nod guiltily, "I've been watching it obsessively, taking notes and everything."
"Are you going to sing to me?" she asks with a playful smile, taking a bite of her food.
You laugh. You knew she was going to ask that, "I guess I could, but although you are a woman, I am certainly not a man." You're not going to tell her that just in case she wanted to you to sing 'You are woman, I am man', you have the instrumental version on your phone.
Talking with her is easy. It's like you're in your own apartment sitting on the couch picking at Chinese food with her. By the time you're done eating, you're ready to call this a success. She picks up her champagne and walks to the red chaise. She sits down on it and feels the material under her hands. "Can we please, please, please put this in the living room?"
You nod with a smile, but stay in your seat at the table. Sitting down with her could lead to something you're terrified of.
After a thorough examination of the piece of furniture, she lays back on it with a content smile. You're happy to just watch her be happy. You're biting your lip when she sits up and looks at you, "Come sit with me please."
You keep your smile on your face, but behind it you're trying to control your breathing. You slowly rise from your seat and pick up your champagne, knowing it's something for your hands to do instead of awkwardly trying to look like you're relaxed.
You sit next to her, a little farther away that you really wanted to. She closes the space between you and slides her arms around your waist. She holds you tight up against her and rests her chin on your shoulder.
"You know," she says, placing a soft kiss on the curve of your neck, "We're not going to do anything you're not ready for."
You look at her, silently asking how she knew what you were thinking. She smiles and kisses a little high up on your neck, "I've known you for a long time Quinn and we've lived together for a while. I know that look on your face." She kisses you again on the hinge of your jaw.
You close your eyes to allow yourself to feel the entire effect of her kisses. They're everything you imagined her lips on your would feel like and so much more. She's kissed your neck before, but never like this. She's slow and deliberate about it. She's taking her time.
Finally she stops kissing you and just rests her chin on your shoulder, "This is really amazing Quinn. It means so much to me that you did this." She squeezes you one more time and takes the champagne out of your hand, finishing it off herself. You smile at that and relax into her. You just sit there for a moment before she says, "Dance with me?"
"There's no music," you answer quietly. Although you know that is quickly remedied by either one of you whipping out your phones.
"We can make our own," she offers. Before you know it, she's standing and pulling you up with her. She reaches across the lounge chair and turns off the lamp. The glare on the window from the lamp is gone and you have a perfect view of the city.
You pull her body to yours, as you two shuffle from side to side. You rest your cheek against hers with your eyes closed. You've only dreamed about this up until now. Now it's real. It's so real for you right now. You're holding Rachel Berry in your arms on a date. You whisper, "You're so beautiful."
She doesn't reply verbally. Her arms around your shoulders constrict around you and you're lulled into a sense of euphoria. With the candles and the view and her. This is perfect. Everything is perfect.
After swaying together for a long time, a time which seemed like forever and only a few seconds all at once, you both lay back on the chaise, tangled in each other.
Your head is on her chest as you both look out the window at the lights and the river. Her hand is lazily trailing up and down your back. It's soothing and you're sure you've never been more relaxed. She kisses the top of your head, "Thank you Quinn."
"You're welcome," you mumble, not wanting to speak too loud. Like it might break the spell.
However after about an hour of just laying there, you mutually decide that you should go. You have to put in an appearance at work in the morning and she has an early photo shoot.
After blowing out all the candles and grabbing your purse from upstairs, you take her hand and lead the way back to your apartment assuring her that you'll move the chaise into your living room the next day.
"I guess this is the part where we have to say goodnight," she sighs against you as you both stand in the middle of the living room. Your heels have been discarded and you're both sleepy.
"Mhmm," you murmur into her hair. You don't want to leave her.
"This is also the part where I invite you to come upstairs," you can hear her smile and you smile back.
"It's only the first date," you state and kiss her forehead, "But I'll settle for a goodnight kiss."
She sighs heavily, but tilts her head up and captures your lips. She settles a hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into a deeper kiss. When her tongue slides across your bottom lip before carefully stroking your own, you can't think of a more perfect way to end your date. You feel like your whole body was just robbed of any and all air, but you can't find it in yourself to pull away.
But eventually she interrupts your make-out session with a hum. She softly kisses your collarbone. "I apologize for my forwardness. I'm not usually like this after a first date." She giggles into your neck before placing a sweet kiss where her lips rest.
You take a deep breath, "Me either." You know that you need to break contact with her before you take her up on her thinly veiled invitation for a sleepover. "Goodnight Ms. Berry."
"Goodnight Ms. Fabray," she takes a step back, but keeps you hands in hers, "Don't forget that we're meeting Brittany and Santana to buy new dresses for the Tony Awards which is in five days…even though I'm not nominated…"
You pull her back to you, "Your show hasn't been on stage long enough." You kiss her forehead then her cheek before brushing your lips against hers, "You're amazing and next year, you will have a Tony sitting on your dresser."
"You're just saying that because you think I'm hot," she wiggles her butt and giggles.
You laugh with her and give her a peck on the lips, "Totally. But you need to get some sleep. You can't look tired for your shoot."
She sighs again, "I know." She pulls away again, this time letting go of your hands. "Goodnight Quinn."
"Goodnight Rach," you give her a tired smile. Reluctantly you part ways and go to bed. As you fall asleep, there's a smile on your face. Tonight was a success and you can't imagine it going any better.