Happy holidays guys! Possibly. IDK.

Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.

They make it into Santana's room after five minutes, Quinn taking the lead because she is very aware that about a thousand people have keys to this place, whereas Santana's lock can only be opened from the inside.

Rachel looks slightly startled when she recognizes that they are now in a space which contains a bed, and Quinn curses, because maybe this isn't what Rachel wanted. Maybe Rachel turned up at her door, and kissed her passionately, to say hi. Maybe this is how they operate, now.

Quinn eyes Rachel for a moment, from her place by the door, because Quinn's got nothing, really, stopping her from taking the next step. Rachel's the one with all the reasons against it. She should make the decision.

Her bottom lip feels like it takes some serious damage from her teeth when Rachel steps into her, and then looks at the non-existent space between their bodies. Quinn reaches a hand into Rachel's hair, and exposes the soft stretch of her neck, before running her fingers down its length. Rachel shudders, and gasps, at that action, and fists her hands in the front of Quinn's t-shirt, tugging Quinn forward.

The kiss is not gentle, or slow, in the slightest, and Quinn knows that her body is reacting, feels her hands reach for Rachel, any part will do, and try and press her even closer into Quinn.

Rachel moans into her mouth, and takes a step backwards, pulling Quinn along with her, who follows blindly, eyes closed.

Rachel abruptly disappears, and Quinn blinks her eyes open after a moment. Rachel is sitting on the bed, looking up at her while fumbling with her shoes. This seems an excellent idea, because Quinn is suddenly very aware that she's wearing three items of clothing, one of which is a sock, and she'd like to even the score.

From Rachel's position her eye level is probably parallel with Quinn's breasts, and Quinn folds her arms automatically, not happy with her body giving that much away, at this point. Rachel stands up again, and this time Quinn has to dip down slightly more to kiss her, because Rachel's lost some height.

Rachel runs a hand along Quinn's forearm, enquiringly, and Quinn opens her arms once more, pressing Rachel close. Her lips are soft, and Quinn wants to lose herself, entirely, in this moment.

The moan this time comes from Quinn, and it is so alien, this sensation of having no control over her body's reactions. Rachel sucks at her bottom lip, hesitantly, and then leans back a touch in order to look at her.

'Quinn…I don't know how to not want this.'

It seems to take Quinn's brain a moment to kick into gear, because she is sure that there are simpler ways of checking that they are both on the same page. She nods, and kisses Rachel again, before murmuring into her mouth.

'I want you.'

Rachel drops her hand down, to twist their fingers together, and Quinn knows a decision has been made.

…

Rachel isn't sure which moment will stick with her longer, the point at which Quinn seemed to snap and pick Rachel up bodily in order to place her on the bed and climb on top of her, or the look in Quinn's eyes when Rachel's pushed up from underneath her so that she could remove her sweater.

Rachel is wearing a tank top underneath, but it feels a great deal less than that when Quinn's gaze traces all over her, before tipping forward to press her lips to newly exposed skin.

When she feels Quinn's tongue on her neck, Rachel lets her whole body press up into Quinn's weight, searching for friction. Her hands go to the back of Quinn's head, and she has no idea how she is to survive and not just rub herself against Quinn's thigh until she comes, because her body is currently several verses ahead of where Rachel's clothing situation would indicate it should be.

She's turned on. She's so turned on.

And Quinn is not undressing her fast enough.

And she's wearing jeans, for god's sake.

With a little moan of frustration, Rachel seeks to remedy the situation, unbuttoning and then scraping the zipper down. The noise seems to penetrate Quinn's haze, and she lifts to look down their bodies, before hissing yes and sitting up to help Rachel.

Rachel, as an adolescent, always pictured sex to be this wonderful, elegant, activity, full of graceful moments and burning desire. She feels like she'd forgotten how frenzied it can be, particularly if one of the participants had decided to wear skinny jeans that require serious leverage to get them off.

Quinn swears, after a second, and pushes at them with a foot, until Rachel sits up and yanks the stubborn final inches off with her hands, and flings them on the floor. Quinn huffs out a laugh.

'Jesus, Rachel, wear less clothes next time.'

Rachel snorts after a second, and reaches around to straddle Quinn, pressing herself down into Quinn's lap. It's a position that feels quite familiar to her, despite it only happening once before.

'Shush. Are you complaining?'

Quinn scoots herself back to the headboard, so she's got something to lean on, and motions for Rachel to follow. Rachel kisses her hard, when she gets there, and tries to stop her stomach from trembling when Quinn's palms smooth underneath her top.

Quinn must catch the flicker of nervous excitement anyway, and bites once at her shoulder, before kissing it gently.

'I'm okay. Are you?'

Okay is such a silly word. Rachel is not feeling okay, which implies average and normal and fine. Rachel is feeling a great deal more than that. She doesn't think she can wrap words around it though, and so sticks to what she knows.

'I want this. I want…you.'

Quinn moans, and traces a tongue up the side of her neck, which causes Rachel to shudder and press downward, down towards much needed friction. The hands that are resting just beneath her ribs climb higher until they slip around and hesitate next to her bra clasp.

Rachel tips forward to kiss Quinn's ear, relishing the way Quinn trembles underneath her when she sucks gently at the lobe.

'Take it off Quinn, I need it off.'

Quinn swears, and Rachel decides that she lives for the sound of Quinn murmuring fuck before unhooking her bra.

A different Rachel would be self-conscious, but that is a different Rachel, and so this one reaches down to her tank top's edge and pulls it off, taking her bra with it.

Quinn says fuck again, before glancing down once at Rachel's breasts, and kissing Rachel so hard she can feel the bruise. Rachel takes one of Quinn's hands that had been resting on her thighs, squeezing gently, and presses the palm to her skin, moaning at the sensation of her nipple tightening underneath Quinn's touch.

Quinn kisses at her neck, before just resting her head on Rachel's shoulder, eyes open so she can watch what her hand is doing. After a moment of caressing, Quinn glances up at her, frowning.

'I don't… know what I'm doing, I've never…before.'

Rachel shudders when Quinn's finger tips rub at her nipple, and fights to keep her eyes open, fights to not just combust right now.

'Just… god, you're doing fine. Just do what you do to yourself.'

The kiss she gets this time feels like it has a different shape, and when Rachel looks, Quinn's smiling at her. Rachel realizes that she's being teased, and rolls her eyes.

'What I do to myself, when I'm thinking about you?'

How is it possible for a person to be vaguely annoyed, and turned on? Quinn does something with her hands that makes Rachel's eyes roll back into her head for entirely different reasons, and she swears.

'God, yes… stop talking.'

Quinn moves up into her, and then tips her backwards, until Rachel's lying on the mattress looking up at Quinn. Quinn shifts her thigh until she is pressed between Rachel's legs, and Rachel whimpers at the reminder of just how wet she is.

Blonde hair traces over her chest, and Rachel moans when she feels hot breath on her skin.

'But I can't do this, to myself, so is it allowed?'

Rachel attempts to not just press her breast up into Quinn's mouth, but her self-restraint is ebbing by the second.

'Jesus, Quinn, just, please…'

She's never been so grateful for an empty apartment when Quinn slides a hot tongue over her nipple, because Rachel doesn't stand a chance of being quiet.

…

Rachel is so warm. The heat is radiating off her, and Quinn feels like a hot air balloon, moments away from drifting off altogether.

Instead she noses over the soft skin of Rachel's breasts, before cupping one with a hand while her tongue runs over the other, anxious to hear more noises from Rachel.

She isn't disappointed, and stays there for long seconds, sucking and then biting, experimenting to see which approach seems popular. Her data is ruined by the fact that everything seems popular, but Quinn isn't worried about that, not now.

After a moment, Quinn registers that hands are tugging at the collar of her own t-shirt, and she lifts, in a dream, to take it off. If she's ever felt any qualms about being naked in front of people they don't seem to count here, particularly when it is Rachel underneath her, gazing up at her like she's lost all sense of who she is and where she is.

Skin on skin makes Quinn moan, this time, and swear when she feels Rachel's hand go to her breast, with no pre-amble what so ever, and squeeze. She shudders down into Rachel, who gasps and presses upwards, and Quinn doesn't know what is happening to her, doesn't know who this person is who apparently can work herself over Rachel Berry's thigh with no reservations at all.

Rachel's mumbling in her ear, a long list of requests and desires.

'Quinn, god… I can feel you… please… I can't believe… take it off, everything, god… fuck, Quinn.'

It's the first time Quinn has heard her name in such close proximity to the word fuck, and she rolls her hips down in approval, before lifting away to kiss at Rachel's breasts again. After a second she notices Rachel's hands heading downward, and she watches, wide-eyed, as Rachel lifts her hips, and removes her panties.

Rachel's naked.

Quinn might pass out.

Rachel's chest is heaving, and she looks as if she's fighting really hard to get herself under control. Quinn tips herself sideways, and kisses at her cheek, and her neck.

'You're beautiful… you're sure?'

Rachel frowns at her, as if resenting that Quinn has raised the possibility that Rachel could have doubts, and rolls sideways, into Quinn, kissing her for long seconds.

'If you are…'

Quinn kisses her once, and then lifts her head slightly, watching the path of her hand as she traces fingers down the smooth skin of Rachel's body, down.

Rachel whispers oh my god when Quinn touches her inner thighs, and she then raises one leg, throwing it over Quinn's hip, and now Quinn's fingers are covered in wetness.

Quinn lets herself touch, just touch, for a while, because she feels that her head may explode and she might say something stupid if she goes too fast, but Rachel starts pressing herself forward and whimpering, and Quinn doesn't really have a chance.

She presses two fingers into Rachel, swearing softly at how wet she is, how warm she is.

Rachel kisses her, blindly, before tipping her head back and moaning, leaving Quinn to kiss her neck, kiss any part of Rachel that she can reach, really.

She experiments, and presses her fingers forward in a rhythm, once, twice, three times, before withdrawing them completely, and circling at the nub of Rachel's clitoris, instead. Rachel's body shudders in front of her, and Quinn could do this forever, wants this moment to last forever.

She circles again, before pressing the tips of her fingers further down, just enough, and Rachel moans loudly, and rolls onto her back, tugging Quinn on top of her.

'Fuck me Quinn, I can't…please.'

Quinn braces herself on one elbow, and sets about finding a rhythm, one that will get Rachel to tighten around her fingers. It's almost too difficult to think, she's that turned on, and she presses her own wetness down onto Rachel's thigh, still shielded by her pyjama's bottoms, but surely there can't be any secrets left there now.

She can't look at Rachel, and instead attaches her mouth to an erect nipple, sucking hard when one of Rachel's hands fists in her hair.

'Fuck, Quinn…yes. Harder.'

Quinn is glad Rachel's breast muffles her answer, because god knows what just came out of her mouth, and she bites down once, before easing her tongue over the peak.

Rachel gets wetter, if that is even possible, and moans out Quinn's name in a way that makes Quinn clench, makes her wonder if she's going to ride Rachel's leg into oblivion before Rachel comes.

There's a hand at her waistband, and Quinn lifts her hips slightly, to allow Rachel to slip inside, press a hand up to where Quinn needs her. Rachel chokes off a moan when she first touches Quinn, but there isn't any space to be embarrassed here, not while Quinn is two fingers deep inside Rachel.

Rachel twists her hips up to meet Quinn's thrusts, and she's mumbling in Quinn's ear.

'So wet… you're so wet.'

Quinn's arm is burning, but she ups the pace regardless, and presses her hips down, so now it isn't so much Rachel touching Quinn as Quinn humping Rachel's slippery finger tips.

'Fuck, Rachel… you did that, it's all for you.'

Rachel gasps, and then moves in a way that Quinn recognizes, and she feels Rachel clench around her for the first time.

'Quinn, I'm going to… oh god.'

Quinn curls her whole palm around, so now she is pressing wetly at Rachel's clit, and pushes herself into her a few more times, the thrusts of her hips increasingly erratic.

She feels Rachel clench once, and then again, and then Rachel arches up into her, moaning like Quinn imagined she would, every time. Quinn does her best to keep moving, keep pressed when Rachel needs her, but the sensation is a bit too much, and Quinn's final bucks are entirely selfish, the warmth pulsing around her hand and the murmuring in her ear taking second place to the feeling of Rachel's finger tips on her flesh.

She fucks herself on Rachel's hand, gasping out Rachel's name with her eyes closed, before coming hard and grinding down into pleasure.

…

It could be a dream.

When Quinn blinks her eyes open she looks completely dazed, and Rachel reaches her free hand up towards her automatically, rubbing fingers over Quinn's lips.

'Oh my god.'

It feels slightly too obvious a thing to say, but they are the only words Rachel knows how to say at this point, one hand covered in Quinn's wetness and the sensation of Quinn's fingers still tight inside her.

Quinn bites her lip, and then chases Rachel's fingers with a kiss, and Rachel has to fight a smile when she realizes what her attentions have done to Quinn's hair, which has dried looking like it decided to riot when no one was watching.

Quinn's arm is shaking with the effort of holding her up, and Rachel presses at her back, at the base of her spine where their hips meet.

'Hey, come here.'

Quinn accepts the invite, and collapses down into her, rolling to one side and kissing at her neck, before easing her fingers away from Rachel. Rachel gasps slightly at the change, and then rolls into her, pressing their bodies length to length.

She could be flying. And when Quinn kisses her gently, before smoothing Rachel's hair away from her face and just looking at her softly, Rachel thinks she might be.

'Hey.'

'Hi.'

…

Kurt feels like he is having some kind of stress induced break down. Brody appears to think that Kurt is Rachel's PA, now, or something, and will not stop calling him to check whether he has seen Rachel this morning. Kurt, for a lack of a better option, had suggested that he hadn't because he himself was out of the apartment.

Brody had then taken this as a signal that he should go around to their apartment to check Rachel hadn't managed to electrocute herself on the coffee machine, or mysteriously get herself entangled in a curtain, or whatever doomsday scenario he had been visualizing, which meant that Kurt had had to get out of their apartment with minutes to spare. Because he had been lying in when he'd said he was out of the apartment. Kurt had been in the apartment, staring at Rachel's empty bed, wondering how to explain Rachel's lack of arrival on apartment hunting day.

Brody, on discovering the apartment empty- (just), had taken to calling Kurt again, who was sitting just around the block, in a near empty book shop, nursing a head ache.

'Do you think I should contact her dads? I'm really worried about her.'

Kurt holds the phone away from his ear in order to mouth obscenities into thin air, and then picks up the conversation.

'No, you'll only worry them. Brody, I've told you, she'll be out with friends, her phone will have died, she won't have noticed, and the apartment thing will have slipped her mind. Just… go and look at apartments, take photos, and tell her about them tonight.'

Brody mumbles at him for a second, and Kurt has a mental image of him checking under beds, inside cupboard, and rolls his eyes.

'Kurt, do you think I should contact the authorities? Because her phone isn't out of battery, it just keeps ringing out, like she can't pick it up.'

Kurt fights to not groan in disgust, but Brody's coming on a bit strong, here. If Kurt was in Brody's position, he thinks he'd be close to exploding with rage, not on the verge organising a search party.

'Brody, listen to me. She's just forgotten. Stop being ridiculous. There'll be a reasonable explanation. Take photos, she'll want to see the places.'

'Ahh, I don't know if I'll be able to see the places now, I asked the agent to wait for me, but that was an hour ago… are you sure she didn't mention anything to you?'

The shop assistant starts giving Kurt a dirty look, and Kurt lowers his voice while picking up a book, trying to pretend that he is actually browsing the crafts section of the store and not just hiding.

'No, Brody. I've got to go. Call the agent, she's probably still be available, those people bend over backwards for a signed contract.'

He puts the phone down with a sigh, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Wow, Brody can be a bit…much some times. Never let it be said that he doesn't care about his girl.

Rachel is seeing someone else.

Kurt's had a long time to think about it, and decided that this is the most likely explanation. Sudden happiness, combined with secretive behavior and mysterious disappearances, all at a time when a long term relationship suddenly gets more serious? Kurt's a big believer in Ockham's razor, and as Rachel is an attractive, talented woman who certainly is not shy of flirting, when you get her going, this is definitely more likely that the conspiracy theories that Brody is peddling.

He's annoyed with her. Primarily because she hasn't told him, but also because… well. Brody thinks he's entering a new and exciting phase in his life, while Rachel plays happy family with him before trotting off to see someone else.

He's very annoyed, actually. Kurt reaches for his phone, and calls Rachel, expecting to get her voice mail.

'Kurt?'

Oh, what the fuck? Is she just screening out Brody?

'Rachel, what the hell? Where are you?'

Rachel stutters a bit when she speaks, and sounds as though she's not prepared at all for this conversation.

'Kurt… I've only just got back to my phone. Is everything okay?'

Kurt would raise his voice, but he is concerned about getting thrown out. Instead he hisses.

'No, Rachel, things are not okay. You are supposed to be apartment hunting with Brody, and don't even tell me that you had forgotten because I know Mr Enthusiasm will have sent you a thousand messages. Brody is on the verge of calling out the National Guard because he can't get hold of you, and I need significantly more warning if I'm required to run around creating alibis for you! For god's sake, tell Brody you're alive at least.'

There's another voice, in the background, that cuts off suddenly, and Kurt curses that he couldn't catch a clear snatch of it.

'What are you taking about, creating alibis? I was just… away from my phone, and lost track of time.'

Kurt scoffs at her.

'Oh sure, Rachel, lie to me as well. You're with someone, aren't you? Don't even attempt to pretend otherwise, I just heard a voice.'

Rachel's voice sounds very small.

'Well, yes, but it isn't what you are implying…'

Kurt's had enough.

'Whatever, Rachel. I hope he's worth it.'

He puts the phone down with no regrets whatsoever.

...