A/N: Sorry for the wait on this, I was trying to finish the next chapter of Summer Nights before working on it, but I caved and wrote this instead. The next chapter will be a bit shorter, so it'll probably be up, I'm hoping, by Friday. Enjoy and let me know what you think :D!
Rachel was leaning against her car, twisting a long lock of hair between her fingers as she waited for me to meet her. Her toe was tapping on the pavement and even though she was quite a ways from me, I could tell she was singing to herself by the way her lips were barely moving. Her head began to bob lightly to the tune she was singing as she looked for me around the school grounds. I ducked behind the tree I was passing, not entirely sure why, but it happened, and I found myself timidly peeking around it to be able to watch her without her knowledge. I had no idea what compelled me to do it. I'd never been the type of person who felt the need to stalk people and if anyone told me I'd be playing peeping tom on Rachel, I would've probably committed them to a psych ward.
I watched as Rachel stopped playing with her hair and picked a stray hair off her shirt before smoothing the wrinkles out of her outfit. She looked around again and as her eyes caught sight of the side mirror on her car, she bent down to check her reflection. She rubbed away some of the eyeliner that had smeared and straightened some pieces of hair that had fallen to the wrong side of her head. Then she covered her hand over her mouth and nose, blowing into it as she checked her breath. She stood up straight with a sour face and I watched her bend into the driver side open window as she searched her car for something. Her skirt rode up and all I could see was impossibly long tan legs and, I wasn't sure because I was a little far away, but I was almost certain that her rising skirt had also uncovered a tiny bit of bright pink material, that could only be her panties.
I quickly turned back around, leaning my back against the tree and letting my head fall back as I shut my eyes. The image of her bending over seemed to be burned into my lids and I groaned as it was the only thing I could see. Why was she the only thing I could think about these days? A week ago if anyone had said Rachel Berry's name I would say my four year old cousin had more style than she did, but now all I wanted to do was write an essay about how I love the way she smells. At a time when I should be heart broken over how Santana still won't choose me over her fears, I'm not. I'm surprisingly fine with that, but very confused over whatever these feelings are about Rachel.
What if I'm taking things with Santana so hard, that I've manifested some sort of attraction to Rachel in order to avoid the pain I'm really feeling?
I hadn't had a thought that deep in a long time and it was definitely unsettling. Was it really possible that I was so upset over losing Santana that my mind would conjure up feelings for someone else as a way of dealing with it? And how would I know then if the feelings were real or not?
"You're thinking too much again," I whispered to myself, lightly bumping my head back against the tree in an attempt to knock some sense into me.
Peeking my head around the side of the tree, I watched as Rachel put something in her mouth, which I assumed was gum by the way she continued to chew it, and then glanced around the school yard again. When her head was turned away, I took the opportunity to move away from the tree and walk towards her.
She caught sight of me immediately and brightened as I neared her, casting her eyes to her mary-janes, "You came."
I raised an eyebrow at her, confused by her statement, "Of course I came. Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't know," she said and there was a nervous chuckle in her voice, "You took so long, I thought maybe you went home with Santana."
"You thought I would just leave you here without telling you," I questioned, a little hurt by the assumption, but knowing that I had no right to be considering she only really knew me as one of the Cheerios.
"It wouldn't be the first time someone's done that to me," she shrugged, as if it didn't matter to her, but her eyes told a completely different story. It was so strange to see her like this. The Rachel Berry I knew from Glee always held her head up high and had such an air of confidence surrounding her, it usually sickened me. But now, when she was alone with me, all I saw was this vulnerable girl who seemed to be self-conscious in every aspect.
I laid a hand on her shoulder before I had a chance to think about it in my head, and when I realized the gesture meant more to me than it should, I gave her shoulder a playful shove and released it, "I wish you knew who I really am."
Her eyes shifted from the ground to meet mine and she smiled half-heartedly, "I do."
I shook my head at her and whispered, knowing there was no one around to hear, but still not ready to voice everything out loud and so out in the open, "No, you know my secret, but you don't really know me. Not yet."
I felt awkward talking to her like this. I was too unsure of what was too much and I couldn't even make sense of half the things that came out of my mouth. I hoped Rachel understood what I was saying, but the way her eyebrows had knitted together, told me that she was just as confused as I was.
"Do you know what my favourite colour is," I asked, it was a silly question, but I wanted to prove my point.
Her eyes turned upwards as she thought over the question and then answered with a smile, "Rainbows."
The laugh that erupted from inside me was surprising and caused Rachel to join in with a fit of giggles as well. It lasted some time until Rachel's smile grew serious and her eyes were watching me with intensity.
"What," I asked, when she continued to stare.
"I don't think I've ever really heard you laugh," she responded and her cheeks pinked as she added, "It's nice."
"That's my point," I said, returning to my original topic, "'Stupid Brittany' thinks rainbows is a colour, but my favourite colour is green."
Rachel scrunched up her nose and said, "I don't like how you call your... alter ego 'Stupid Brittany'."
"She's not a real person," I replied, not understanding why this mattered to her.
"She kinda is," Rachel answered, "Whether you like it or not, she became a part of you. Maybe you decided to become a little more unintelligent, however, I find it hard to believe that you created a completely new persona and there's nothing alike in the- umm- two of you."
I suddenly realized that we were still on school grounds and although almost everyone seemed to have gone, I still didn't feel quite comfortable discussing this so out in the open. I opened the driver's side door for Rachel for the only purpose of ushering her into the car faster, nothing to do with chivalry, and she gave me a questioning glance before slipping into the seat. I closed the door behind her and walked to the other side, tossing my bag onto the backseat before settling into the passenger seat. The smell of watermelon, the flavour of Rachel's gum, quickly enveloped the car and more than anything I wanted to know what it tasted like. I watched her lips move as she chewed the piece of gum and it took everything inside me to look away and push the thought from my mind.
"You're right," I sighed, my eyes settling on the Cheerios field as Rachel put the car in reverse and began to back out of the parking space, "I guess a lot is the same, but I feel like all the important parts are different."
"What are the important parts," she asked and I could feel her eyes shifting between me and the road, even though my eyes were still focused out my window.
It was a difficult question that I didn't think I was ready to fully answer. I was so used to hiding everything inside, to suddenly wear my heart on my sleeve felt like a betrayal to the person inside I had been protecting.
I was silent for awhile and Rachel waited. She didn't push, but she didn't try to change the subject either and finally I sighed and gave in, opting to give some information, "'Stupid Brittany' likes people, but ultimately will bully someone if her friends expect it of her. I hate it. I remember every hurtful comment I have ever said to anyone and it haunts me. I love Santana and I love Quinn, but sometimes I just want to punch them in the face. Especially Quinn. Quinn had to deal with harsh bullying in the past, so I don't understand why she would let herself ruin other people's lives when it had such a damaging affect on her. She's so broken inside."
I saw Rachel stiffen and her hands tighten on the steering wheel, "She's probably doing it for the same reason you are. You guys think that in order to be on top you have to put down everyone else around you."
I didn't say anything as my attention was turned back to the window, because she was right. I don't have any right to complain about Quinn's actions when mine were just the same. I was able to rationalize that Quinn was the bully because she was the one who barked the orders and I simply followed, but I was just as bad for following.
The drive seemed longer today than usual and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat wanting to break the silence, but not having anything to offer. Rachel kept her eyes on the road with a look of concentration on her face, but I only stole a quick glance before looking away. I already felt a little naked for opening up to her so much today.
When her car finally pulled into my driveway and she killed the engine, I moved to lean over the centre console to pick my school bag up out of the backseat and she moved at the same time, effectively smacking her forehead into mine.
"Sorry," Rachel gasped, her hand flying to the mark on my forehead that I was sure was matching hers. "Are you okay?"
The warm hand on my forehead made any pain that I had felt instantly disappear and I could feel the warmth spread to all regions of my body. Her mouth was open enough for me to see the light green piece of gum sitting on the side of her tongue and I began to fantasize about what it would feel like to steal that piece from her with my tongue. I bet her whole mouth tasted like watermelon at that moment.
"I'm fine," I assured her, brushing the back of my hand against the red mark on her forehead, "What about you?"
"My head has sustained many injuries far worse than this," she whispered, her eyes focused on my lips as she spoke and I wondered that if I took the opportunity to kiss her, if she would kiss me back. The moment ended before I could finish the thought as she retracted the hand on my forehead and held it up signally for me to wait while she leaned into the backseat. She pulled my school bag out first, placing it in my lap, and then grabbed a duffle bag, which I stared at with curiosity.
"I thought I should bring clothes suitable for dancing to change into," she explained as we exited her car, slinging the bag over her shoulder.
"That's a good idea," I admitted, looking over her navy sweater with a cat on it and bright red skirt. The skirt was nice, all the skirts she wore were nice because they showed off her legs, but the sweater was appalling, no matter how much I liked cats.
I let her lead the way to my bedroom, allowing my eyes to wander over her toned legs as she climbed the stairs. I shut the door behind me when we reached my room and fell down onto my bed, lazily lying back onto my pillows. Rachel dropped her bag on the floor beside the bed and sat down on the edge, her ass brushing against my calves as she did.
"I want to apologize for today," she sighed, beginning to absently pick at my comforter. "I guess I just got confused because I thought we were friends now and-"
"We are friends, Rachel," I interrupted her, taking her hand in mine before I could consider the consequences. Her fingers were so delicate and soft and I was momentarily struck by how well they fit with mine. I loved the contrast of her tan against my own pale skin and was so lost in the sensation I almost jumped when she broke the silence.
"But your secret hobbit friend," her eyes were carefully watching my thumb, which had at some point begun to rub small circles into the back of her hand.
"I'm sorry I said that," I breathed, but my concentration was still on her hand and the velvety skin beneath my thumb.
She went silent and I forced myself to tear my eyes away from our adjoining hands to look up at her. Her eyes were flickering between mine and the comforter and I could tell that she wanted to ask me something, but was fighting an internal battle on whether she should ask or not.
"What," I asked and her eyes shot back at me, unprepared for the question.
"Do you really thing hobbits are sexy," she said timidly, using her free hand to continue to pick at the comforter.
I wanted to say 'yes' and inadvertently tell her that I thought she was sexy, but my fears got the best of me. It sounded like she was flirting, and if it was anyone else I wouldn't even question it, but somehow with her I couldn't tell if she really just wanted a friend or if this was starting to mean something else to her. I still didn't even know what it meant to myself and wasn't ready to give myself that moment to contemplate my feelings.
"You're not a hobbit," I said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
She nodded in response, but I could tell by her eyes that she didn't fully believe me, "Sometimes I think-"
I could tell that she was beginning to head into a conversation centering around her insecurities and I couldn't listen to her beat herself up.
"You're not a hobbit," I said louder, this time yanking on her hand and causing her to fall towards me. I pinched the tender flesh of her side with my free hand, eliciting a startled squeak as she tried to glue her elbow to her side to prevent me from continuing my attack. Once it registered in my mind just how ticklish she was, it was over. I released her hand and began my assault on her sides, tickling without remorse as she squirmed and giggled with her eyes squeezed shut.
A few minutes later and I found myself in a particularly dangerous situation. I was kneeling in between her legs, the tops of my bare thighs, brushing against the insides of her thighs as I moved. Her hideous cat sweater had rode up in the attack and was sitting just above her navel, while my fingers teased the bare skin it had revealed. My smile vanished as I realized the situation and my fingers stilled at her sides. She noticed how close I was as well, as I hovered above her, and her giggles subsided as the mood grew serious. Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips as her eyes fell to study my own. I was sure that she wanted me to kiss her. I was sure that if I just laid my body against her, something my body was aching to do, and if I just took that moment to capture her lips with mine, she would kiss me back. Maybe she would grind her hips against me and pull my hair back in her fist as the kiss deepened. Maybe she would moan into my mouth.
But what if I was reading her completely wrong? She made me so unsure of myself all the time. The look in her eyes told me that she wanted it, it looked like she wanted me as much as I wanted her, but Rachel and I had a good friendship beginning, and I was getting used to seeing her everyday. What if she ran screaming from my room again, she did it enough in Glee for me to know that it was likely something she did on a regular basis everywhere else as well.
"We should start dancing," I whispered, disappointing myself with my words as I got up off the bed. I was sure I saw disappointment in her face as she adjusted her sweater and slid off the bed.
"I need to change," she announced, picking up her duffle bag.
"Bathroom's right there," I replied, pointing to the bathroom as I sat back down on the edge of the bed.
After a painfully long few minutes of waiting, in which I debated with myself whether to ask if she was alright or not, the door finally opened as she posed with her hands on her hips. I had to consciously stop the laugh that threatened to erupt as I looked over her attire. Dressed in a sleeveless black spandex unitard, with light pink legwarmers that extended to her pink ballet slippers and her hair slicked back in a tight ponytail, I almost lost it and burst out laughing. That was until I noticed the bodysuit clung to every single part of her body, and most importantly, she did not have a panty line. I swallowed thickly and I was quite aware that I was staring, but even the apocalypse would not have gotten me to look away.
"Is this not suitable," she questioned and looked down at herself with insecurity.
My mouth suddenly felt like I had been sucking on cotton balls as I tried to regain my composure and just when I thought I would be able to speak again, she turned towards the bathroom mirror and I could see the full outline of her ass.
I must've gasped because she quickly turned back around with a look of confusion and I once again tried to swallow.
"That depends, we are working on hip-hop dance, right," I said, surprised I could even got the words out.
She nodded her response and began to worry her lip.
"Then this is not the outfit one would conventionally wear," I said, and the raspiness in my voice was beginning to rival Santana's.
She sighed and folded her arms across her chest, "Well what would you suggest?"
"Maybe a pair of booty shorts and a t-shirt," I shrugged, doing my best to appear nonchalant, like my panties were not continuously growing uncomfortably wet.
"Do you want me to change back," she asked, looking back at her duffle bag, sitting in the middle of the bathroom.
"No," I answered, standing up and pushing my bed up against the wall, "Let's just start practising."
My room was quite large and pushing my bed against the wall gave us more than enough room to practice dance moves.
"I think we should just start with some basic moves so I can see what you know and what you need to work on," I said, slipping my iPod into its docking station and selecting my 'dance beats' playlist. "I know you have a lot of dance experience behind you, but hip-hop is a different type of dance than ballet or tap. The way you move your body is completely different. Instead of soft flowing movements and extensions, you're popping your body and shaking your ass. Ballet is a beautiful dance, but hip-hop is a sexy dance."
She bowed her head slightly at the word 'sexy' and I raised an eyebrow, "What?"
"I don't think too many people would put me in the 'sexy' category," she blushed.
"You may be surprised," I answered under my breath, but the comment didn't go unnoticed and her eyes flashed to me. "That's why we're doing this. We'll make a sex kitten out of you yet."
Her face went beat red at that comment, but I didn't miss a beat before explaining the first sequence of moves we were going to do.
"Alright, so like I said, we're going to start out simple," I said showing her the dance moves as I voiced what I was doing, "First you're going to take your right foot and take a step forward, widening your stance, while locking your right fist to your hip. Then you do the same with your left foot and left fist. Then you roll your hips."
She was looking at me as if I was teaching her the ABCs and she rolled her eyes.
"I know it's easy," I said, "But like I said, I need to see how you move and if you've got the basic steps down correctly."
"Okay, okay," she said, placing her hands on her hips as I pressed the play button on my remote for the docking station.
I began to count out the beat, watching her body move as she executed the first few steps, and everything went perfect until she went to roll her hips. It looked forced and lazy, as if she wasn't even trying.
"Come on, Rachel. I know it's easy, but at least try," I spoke over the music.
She folded her arms across her chest and her bottom lip extended in a defiant pout, "I am trying."
"Again," I demanded and she rolled her eyes again, but assumed the position. I counted out the beat once again and again it was flawless until she made another attempt at rolling her hips. It was as if she was moving them in a hula hooping motion. I shook my head and waved my hand for her to stop.
"It's like this," I said as I rolled my hips in demonstration. She tried to mimic the move, but failed once again. "Just pretend you got a guy behind you and you're grinding up against him."
Her face went blank as she shrugged, "I've never really done that before."
"You've never grinded with a guy on the dance floor," I asked, taken aback by the revelation.
"I choreographed 'Push It'," she said, as if trying to make up for her lack of experience.
"It was a little sloppy," I admitted, before realizing I had said it out loud. A look of disappointment clouded her features and I immediately changed the subject, "Alright, I'll show you."
I moved around behind her, nudging her feet apart with my foot until her stance was wide enough and then slid my leg in between hers. I felt her entire body tense as I pressed my body flush against her and my thigh pressed against her centre. I kept telling myself not to get excited, that I was only teaching her how to do it, but she felt amazing and the thin piece of spandex that was separating her from my thigh, was making me go crazy.
"Relax," I whispered, but my voice was shaking as I spoke, making it apparent that I was definitely not relaxed either. I squeezed her shoulders soothingly and ran my hands up and down her bare arms until I felt her body begin to relax and lean in to me. I placed my fingertips on her hips to guide her and said in another shaky voice, "I'm going to roll my hips and you just roll yours with mine to get the feel of it. Okay?"
She gave a slight nod, but her teeth were digging into her bottom lip as her eyes focused on the wall on the other side of the room. I listened to the beat playing, counting the rhythm in my head once before moving my hips to the beat, effectively grinding myself against her ass and concentrating so hard on containing my moan. My fingers gripped her hips and each time I rolled my hips I guided hers to do the same motion.
After we had repeated the motion a few times, I suddenly felt a wetness on my thigh where it was rubbing against her and her head fell back against my shoulder, as her eyes closed. I knew we weren't dancing anymore. Her breath was coming out in short gasps and her hips were no longer moving with the beat, even with my fingers trying to guide her motions.
I couldn't believe it, was she about to...
I felt my fingers begin to slide from her hips towards her center at an achingly slow pace. She still smelled of the watermelon gum, and a hint of vanilla, and the exposed skin of her neck was begging me to kiss it. I resisted, afraid that it would somehow make it all too real for her and break the spell she was under. I could hear her mumbling something in between her erratic breathing, but I couldn't make out what she was saying. I couldn't believe how wet she was, sliding against my leg and I soon realized that I was quietly moaning along with her. I gave in as my hand neared her center, planting a chaste kiss to the nap of her neck and she let out a loud moan as her hand latched on to my free leg and she dug her fingernails painfully deep into my skin.
"Stop, stop, stop, Brittany stop," she screamed stringing the words together without breaks, and my entire body froze, not daring to move a single muscle. Her eyes were squeezed shut so tightly as she began to take slow deep breaths, I assumed trying to hold back her desire.
It took everything inside of me not to throw her down on my bed, rip off her clothes and finish her off. Lick and kiss and bite my way down her body and taste her until she came. My body was on fire and I had never been so turned on in my life. It was crazy to think that Rachel was the one who was doing this to me, but I didn't even care anymore. I didn't care how ridiculous it was that I had fallen for her. I didn't care if she was the biggest loser in school. It didn't matter. If she could make me feel that nothing else in the world mattered except our bodies moving together, then I wanted her with me forever.
Moments passed with nothing but the sound of our breathing. Neither of us daring to make a single move, until finally she took a deep breath, let it out and then slid away from me, shivering as her centre brushed against my wet thigh one last time.
Her face was flush as she turned to face me, her eyes on the ground and refusing to meet mine. I could see the darker patch in the crotch of her bodysuit and I licked my lips, knowing what that meant, knowing that was the evidence of her arousal. Finally her eyes reached mine, but only for a second as she turned and ran from my room at top speed.
It took a moment for me to snap out of it and realize what was happening before I was quickly chasing after her.
"Rachel wait," I called after her as she jumped down the stairs, without hesitation, "Rachel, please just wait."
I didn't catch up to her until she had almost gotten to her car and I was able to reach out and grab her wrist, stopping her.
"It's okay," I assured her with a smile and a light squeeze on her wrist, "Calm down, it's okay."
"It's not okay," she screamed back and there were tears falling down her cheeks as she shook her head. "I can't- I just- I can't."
I released her wrist and watched hopelessly as she dropped into the driver's seat and sped out of my driveway.
Those words. So familiar. First Santana and now Rachel. What was so bad about being with me?