Fifty Words for Forgiveness
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How It All Began
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You don't quite know how it happened. One minute, Quinn and you were lying on your bed, laughing about something completely ridiculous, and the next, the two of you were silently staring at each other. Or rather, you were staring at the other's lips.
The atmosphere in the room had changed, suddenly. It was no longer fun and jovial. It had been kicked up a notch, and was palpable to the both of you. Almost like static electricity underneath your fingertips. You could feel the charge, sense that something monumental was about to take place.
It didn't take a genius to work out what.
Quinn moved forward at the same time you did, closing the gap between your bodies, and you heard her breath hitch as your hand grasped at her waist. That stopped you in your tracks for a second, your forehead resting against hers. She was breathing deeply, looking a little shocked at the direction this seemed to be going.
You were shocked yourself, but only because you'd never done this with her before. What the hell had been stopping you? How had you never looked at Quinn this way? Brittany was a given, her sexual fluidity allowed for the boundaries of friendship to be pushed to new heights, but Quinn, she was completely different. She was never one for thinking outside of the box, trying something new, so why hadn't she stopped you yet?
It was obvious what your next move was going to be. You had been licking your lips and edging closer to hers in anticipation. You could feel her breath on you, mixing with yours as you breathed in. You could almost taste her, her scent taking over your senses, surrounding you.
She smelt fucking amazing, like a breath of fresh air and fucking sunshine. You're not even sure how she smelt like that, but she did. That was what kept coming to mind. And hell, looking at her, she looked like a fallen angel, her golden hair like a damn halo shining bright, her pupils dilated and wide, waiting for your next move, but still so innocent and pure. She smelt fucking innocent and pure, yet you knew she wasn't. You knew from first-hand experience that she could be as conniving and cruel as the best of them.
She was a fucking paradox. She was virtue and sin, and she was lying on your bed, looking at you with her doe fucking eyes, lips moist and just waiting to be kissed.
"What is it?" Quinn whispered, and you realised you'd been staring. She probably had expected you to kiss her already, but you were getting to that, you just needed a moment to look at her, to take her in.
"You're so fucking beautiful," you whispered without even thinking. She was, and she should be told she was. You don't ever do feelings and shit, but you needed her to know she was fucking pretty. For whatever reason, you needed her to know.
She was different. She wasn't Brittany. She was Quinn and you needed to let her know that you weren't going to use her if she was to let you kiss her. You were so close to her, your bodies pressed together and your nose practically nuzzling into her cheek. It was intimate, and something you normally didn't do but God, it was Quinn.
She actually looked surprised by your words. Maybe she wasn't expecting those words from you. Maybe she wasn't expecting you to have held back this long. You were known for your quick and easy technique, no feelings, no terms of endearments, no soft approach. This had to be shocking for her then, because it was shocking for you, too.
Her shock only lasted a moment though, before her gaze changed to one of pure and unadulterated desire. You could only mirror her look, your eyes half-lidded with want. This was turning out to be a much better evening than you ever thought possible, and it was all because of her.
"San, kiss me," she whimpered, practically begging you, as her lips lightly brushed against yours when she spoke.
She wanted this. She wanted you. She wasn't Brittany, she definitely wasn't Brittany, and she was pleading for you to kiss her. Quinn Fabray was on your bed and begging for you to kiss her. Christ, how could you deny her that? How could you say no to that offer?
You were so close to her, your face nuzzling into hers further, that nodding in reply achieved nothing, but she knew you were going to comply with her request. She closed her eyes fully and you turned your head, the heat of her skin burning against your own. This was it. You were actually going to kiss Quinn Fabray.
Holy hell.
This might have been your only chance to kiss her, the goddamn fallen angel, so you couldn't fuck this up. If the two of you were abandoning all caution and throwing your friendship off a cliff, this kiss had to be worth it. Nothing would be the same after this, you knew that, so it had to fucking count.
Licking your lips one last time, you shut your eyes and just held steady for a moment. She was breathing you in, doing exactly what you had just done to her moments before. This was her moment to stop you.
Thank fuck she didn't take it.
You closed the distance, ever so gently moving your lips closer, your forehead still resting on hers, and softly pecked her lips once. It was a warning shot. Her lips were soft to the touch and returned your brief kiss with fever but it was the warning shot and it couldn't last long.
Quinn whimpered when it was over, groaning and tugging at your shirt roughly. Her other hand came up to cup your cheek, trying to pull you back in, and you knew that there was no reason to hold off anymore. You'd given her all chances in the world to end this, to put a stop to it. If she wasn't going to take them then neither were you.
Her lips were on yours quickly, catching your bottom lip between hers as she tried to get more from you, it knocked you senseless for a moment. The pressure was hard and demanding, unforgiving and exacting and it only took a second for you to return her kisses with the same enthusiasm. It was overwhelming, the scent of her, innocent and pure, and the taste of her, warm, hot and sensual. She was trying to kiss you again and again, wanting more and more, but you needed to breathe, to catch your breath, try and clear the air.
Quinn wasn't done though, and was instantly kissing you again, her teeth tugging at your bottom lip, her tongue gliding over it afterwards. You tried so hard to fight back the groan but were unsuccessful. It ripped from your chest as she licked at your lips again, her tongue hotly teasing you.
You needed to feel her tongue against yours. You needed to feel her body underneath yours. You needed to feel her, all of her, every single inch of her. But your hand was met with clothing. Her cardigan was blocking you and her skirt was keeping you from her skin. That had to change, immediately.
It was too fucking hot anyway, and her lips were burning against yours, her tongue scorching your skin as she deviated her path and started lavishing at your neck. You were going to spontaneously combust at this rate, burn the whole damn place down.
How could an angel like her have kisses that were hotter than hell? How was she so innocent and pure yet so seductive and sexy?
Paradox, fucking paradox, Quinn Fabray.
Burying your hand in her hair, you tugged her back up to your lips and used your body to push her onto her back. You expertly climbed on top of her body, falling in between those perfect thighs of hers, and with the change in position came the change in kiss.
You took her bottom lip between yours and nipped at it hard with your teeth, grinding down into her simultaneously. She panted in response, breaking the kiss, but allowing you access. Sneaking your tongue out, you kissed her again and sought out hers. First touch had you grinding your hips harder into hers, your fingers entangling in her hair, and the other hand gripping tightly at her hip. Her tongue was so warm, so wet, and so fucking good at teasing yours. She was playing with you, winding you up and making you suffer, her tongue only just stroking against yours briefly before she would end the kiss.
It was driving you insane, making you whimper and whine at her for more. The smug little smirk she was wearing in between kisses was enough to have you biting back a growl. You couldn't take it anymore, this had gone on long enough. She was driving you crazy with need, the throb between your legs affecting your ability to think at all. You needed her out those clothes. You needed to touch, kiss, lick, devour, worship her body like it deserved to be. You needed her so fucking badly.
You detangled your hands from her body and pushed yourself backwards so you were resting on your knees over her. You watched as she opened her eyes slowly, panting heavily, to see what you were up to. Those heady eyes were screaming at you to hurry the fuck up, and if that wasn't enough encouragement, the way her tongue wetted her top lip before gliding smoothly over the bottom was. You grabbed fistfuls of your t-shirt and pulled it up over your head as fast as you could, desperate to return to her.
Dropping back down, sliding your body back to where it was, you felt her hands come up to rest on your ribcage, just beneath your bra. Her fingers were ghosting over your skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake, and you whined, shaking your head as you sought out her lips. She was teasing you again; always the fucking teasing and never the fucking pleasing.
Maybe if you tried hard enough she'd change her mind, though. God, there was a challenge.
With newfound determination, you let your hands wander, your tongue swirling against the skin of her neck as she panted beneath you. Those sounds, those noises, they were fucking heavenly. You didn't want them to stop. The moaning, groaning, whimpering; the mewling, gasping, panting. You needed to hear it all, again and again and again.
Everything was building, the heat in the room becoming unbearable, the sensation of her tongue against yours becoming overwhelming, the feeling of her hands on your body becoming too much for you to handle. She was too much. Too much, too soon, too close.
Oblivious to the intensity of her movements, Quinn's hips continued to buck upwards into yours. The friction wasn't enough for her, or for you, but you were whimpering nonstop now, your kisses becoming sloppy as you fought off the urge to flee. You didn't want it to stop, but you needed it to. It was too much, it was burning you, setting you alight from the inside.
Breaking your kiss, you pulled back and tried to push your body up off hers, creating space between the two of you. Quinn wouldn't have it, as though reading your mind, and wrapped her arms around your neck, keeping you close to her. Your eyes shut blissfully at the contact and you just wanted to sink back into her. Frowning, you shook away all thoughts of doing so and opened your eyes again.
All movement had stopped, and the two of you were back to staring at one another. The only sound in the room was the two of you breathing heavily, trying to catch back the breath your kisses had stolen.
Quinn was watching you carefully, waiting for your next move, and probably wondering why you had stopped at all. You were wondering the same thing. Why had you stopped? Why was it so fucking intense? She didn't seem to be having this problem, so why were you?
You were leaning over her in your bra and jeans, and from the way she was kissing you, touching you, it was clear your top was probably the first of many items that were going to make their way to the floor that evening. So, again, why had you stopped?
This night promised nothing but orgasms and ecstasy at the rate it was going. She certainly didn't look like she was going to stop you. The fact she was keeping you on top of her, despite you pulling away, should have been enough proof that she wanted this. She was willing and ready and you could have her. You could sleep with her. You could actually have sex with Quinn Fabray.
And that was the problem.
Just like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over you, the heat in the room evaporated and you broke out in goose bumps from the cold. Your body was tense, rigid, and you knew that this was now over, no matter how badly your hips wanted to continue grinding into her.
It was Quinn, Quinn Fabray.
You couldn't. You just couldn't. The kissing and the grinding were one thing, but undressing her, getting her naked, that was the fucking Promised Land. If you were going to sleep with her, it was not going to be a quick fuck because you were feeling horny. Her first time was fucking awful with Puck, you were not going to fucking ruin her second time by using her for a release.
You weren't fucking heartless, despite what most people thought.
Quinn's once confident gaze had softened somewhat, and she was looking at you with apprehension. Understanding the change in mood, she unhooked her arms from behind your neck, giving your ribcage one last caress on the way down and waited for what was to come next.
It was over, for the both of you.
You leant in ever so slightly for one last kiss. It was slow, gentle, almost a caress of your lips against hers. You wanted to savour as much of her as you could, but time was up. This was the final bullet in the gun. You were done.
Extracting yourself from on top of her, you moved back to your original position on the bed before all this started. Quinn was still lying there, as if stuck in place, rigid and uneasy. That wouldn't do. You reached out and grasped at her hand, entwining your fingers with hers.
She was watching you with confusion and trepidation, no doubt expecting the worst from you. Your reputation never said anything about stopping when given the green light. You never had, but this was different and she was different and you hoped she knew that. If she asked, it would be fucking painful. You didn't want to have to explain. You needed her to just know. You needed her to know you weren't going to use her like that.
Sex with some faceless nobody was one thing, fucking your best friend was another altogether.
"I don't understand," Quinn whispered, scratching at the comforter as she avoided eye contact. You were frowning at her, hoping she could see your reasoning in your eyes, silently imploring her to look at you, but she didn't.
Her hair was a rumpled mess, locks tangled and twisted, and her lips were bruising from the demanding pressure of yours, yet she'd never looked so fucking beautiful. It was a big enough reminder for you to gather your emotional shit up and lock it away inside.
"You're more than a quick fuck, Q," you replied, shrugging casually to play it off as nothing. "I'm not…you deserve better than some ride on the school bicycle."
Taking back your hand, you crawled off the bed, and grabbed your shirt. You didn't dare look at her as you pulled it over your head and moved towards the bathroom. She wasn't allowed to see the hurt in your eyes. She was never going to be allowed to see it. She must not know how this had changed things for you. You'd buried it, so it had to stay buried.
Closing the bathroom door behind you, you leant backwards onto it and sighed. What the hell had you been thinking? She was your best friend. The situation with Brittany should have already taught you that sleeping with your best friend always ended badly. So why? Why the fuck did you kiss her? Why did you give into her? Why?
You couldn't afford this. You couldn't afford to see her in any other light than a friend. It wouldn't work. You knew it wouldn't work. She was fucking innocent and pure. She was virtue. You were fucking temptation and impulse. You were sin. Those things didn't mix.
She was the fucking fallen angel and you were Satan. How could you have possibly thought that would end well?
It wouldn't. You needed to shut it down. The intensity, the fever, the desire to go back out there and kiss her softly and slowly and to just take your time with her had to end. You were not going to do this again. Once was enough.
No more.
Never again.
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