A/N: To all those people who were entirely confused with the end of the last chapter, don't worry, you were supposed to be. A couple people got it and I think more people will understand it this chapter, but it won't be fully explained for a bit. Anyway, enjoy and R&R please :D!
My head had been swimming ever since the encounter with Santana in the hallway. I felt like I needed to go to her and help her through the confusion she was going through, but now I was just so torn between her and Rachel. Yes, I had told her that it was the end, that our friendship was over at that point, but in all truth, it wasn't. It was something said in the heat of the moment. Rachel wouldn't understand yet, why I would be so quick to forgive her, although forgive was too strong a word for now. It was more like I understood. It was absolutely wrong and horrible and the fact that she laid hands on my girlfriend like that continued to anger me, but that poor lost soul was going to need a good friend at her side right now. Rachel wouldn't understand. But Rachel didn't know.
I sent Quinn a quick text, after I killed the engine on my car, telling her that Santana needed her right now, whether she wants her there or not. Quinn sent back a confused text mere seconds later, asking if it had to do with her performance in glee, and I wrote back that it wasn't adding the words Spanish berries. Not even a second passed before the words on my way were sent back.
'Spanish berries' was a stupid code word Quinn and I had made up two years ago, figuring we needed a code word to tell the other when shit was about to hit the fan in this situation. We knew that when Santana realized what we both had suspected about her, she was going to need some serious friend time to help her make sense of her life. It was more of a joke though, laughed about over raspberry flavoured coolers and a bowl full of chocolate chip cookie dough. We also didn't think it would take two years for this moment to happen, if we were right in our suspicions, so now the code word idea sounded silly, but it did its job anyway. Right now, I couldn't be a part of the serious friend time, either. Quinn, as broken as she may be herself, would have to go it on her own. To be honest, that worried me a bit. Two depressed people alone in a room could lead to either murder plots or suicide pacts. Of course it could just lead to comfort sex, so maybe I'm overreacting.
"Are you sure you're okay," I asked, helping Rachel sit down on the couch in front of their large screen television. She hadn't spoken the whole drive and the look of shock had been present the entire time. Her eyes slowly turned towards me and she gave an equally slow nod. She looked like a zombie, she had the pale skin, far off gaze and stiff movements, all she needed was rotting flesh and a constant repetition of the word 'brains' and I would be seriously debating whether to put a bullet in her brain or keep her as a pet.
"Physically," Rachel said, drawing the word out, "I'm fine. The bruises will heal. But I really did not think Santana would come after me like that. I, of course, am aware of the scraps between her and Quinn and Lauren, so I'm not sure why I find it so surprising."
Definitely not a zombie, they can't talk that much. I sighed wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders, laying a kiss on the side of her head, "She didn't mean it, Rachel. She's not mad at you, she's mad at me. She's just taking it out on you because she can't touch me."
Her hand slid into my lap, holding onto the inside of my thigh as she said, "Because you could kick her butt?"
"No," I laughed, "I mean it would definitely be a fight to bet money on, but we've been too close to take our anger out on each other like that."
"So she takes it out on me," Rachel sighed and her fingers began to absently stroke my thigh. I hated what that was doing to me because right now was not sexy times. I was supposed to be having a heart to heart with Rachel and instead my body was kicking into overdrive once again. What was it Finn thought of to cool down again? Mailman. Mailman. Mailman. I didn't get it, it wasn't working for me at all.
"Ever since Santana realized she was gay, she's been making one wrong decision after the next," I tried to explain.
"Like Karofsky," Rachel snorted and I cringed at that thought. Yes, that thought helped. Santana and Karofsky was my mailman.
"Exactly," I said, lazily stroking the strands of her hair that had been tickling my hand, "She keeps trying to fight who she is and deep down inside there's just this scared little girl begging for everyone to love her."
"If she wants us all to love her she has a funny way of showing it," Rachel scoffed and I think I even heard the hints of a soft snort.
"Everybody has their own way of doing things," I said, "Quinn and her have a lot in common. They both need someone to love them and they're both so alone."
"So why is she so mad at you," she asked, moving her head off my shoulder to look me in the eyes.
I debated telling her the real reason. I couldn't tell if it was a good idea or not. I hated lying to her, but it would just complicate Santana's life more than it was already.
I guess I had hesitated too long, because Rachel put her head back on my shoulder and said, "It's okay, you don't have to tell me."
"I'm going to take you out on a date tomorrow night," I said, changing the subject.
Her head raised back up again and I was so relieved to see that radiant smile, "Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise," I laughed as she pouted.
"You and your surprises," she said, her eyes narrowing at me.
"You liked the last one," I said and I could hardly believe that it was only a week ago. It felt like Rachel and I had been together for months, even years.
"Yes," Rachel admitted, her lips finding my neck as she mumbled the next words against it, "I loved it."
Her light kisses escalated to soft sucking and then little nips with her teeth and before I knew it, she had one hand gripping one side of my neck while she left dark hickeys on the other. It felt fantastic and all I could do was rest my head back against the couch, close my eyes, and give myself to her. My hand fell from her shoulders, down her back and all the way down to the curve of her butt, where I nudged her lightly until she moved over me, straddling my lap. Her lips never left my neck and her hands began pressing lines up my chest to my shoulders and back down, each time getting closer and closer to my breasts. I let in a shaky breath that got caught in my throat as she bit down hard on the muscle on the side of my neck and my hands quickly grabbed at her hips as mine thrust up against her. Her nails dug into my shoulders and her head fell back as she began to grind her hips against mine.
"Where are your dads," I moaned more than spoke. I almost didn't care, but I still wanted to make a good impression with them.
She moved one of her hands to grip the front of my shirt, her eyes barely open as she looked down at me and whispered, "They always work late on Fridays."
Her hips never slowed and I knew the bunched crotch of my jeans was hitting her in just the right place by the soft keening noises she was making in between each gasp. Her left hand found my right one at her hip and slowly began to trail it upwards, underneath her shirt and along the taught stomach muscles that fluttered beneath my touch.
"What are you doing," I whispered, watching my hand beneath her shirt as she continued to guide it upwards. I didn't want this to end, but I also knew that this was not the way she wanted her first time, and it looked like that's where this was heading.
"I'm," she said but her words were interrupted by her gasp when my hips involuntarily bucked up against her as I felt the ridges of her ribs, "I'm rewarding you."
"Oh god," I moaned as she let my fingers slip underneath her bra and I could feel the delicate skin of the underside of her breast. I dragged my thumb over the curve for a second until she pushed my hand up higher, squeezing my hand and forcing it to close around her breast. She gasped louder at the sensation and rolled her hips more frantically, arching her back into the touch. I felt my thumb graze her nipple and I pinched it between my thumb and forefinger, eliciting another loud moan. Her free hand left my shirt and rested on my knee behind her, using it as leverage to grind harder against me. More than anything I wanted to drop my other hand between her legs, but my broken arm and the cast were preventing me from maneuvering it the right way, so it stayed on her hip.
"Can I see," I asked in a husky voice, licking my dry lips as I stared down at the breast beneath my grasp. Her eyes widened as she looked at me, hesitating for a moment before shaking her head.
"Not yet," she whispered, biting her lip as her eyes fell shut again. I was a little disappointed, but her hand covering mine on her breast, squeezed my hand against her harder and the noise she made distracted me.
I watched her face in awe as her mouth fell open and her eyebrows creased together, "Has anyone ever touched-"
"No," she groaned out, shaking her head as she licked her lips trying to formulate complete sentences, "You're the first. Others just over the bra."
The knowledge of this made me feel special. I was the first that she allowed this close to her. I must've been doing something right in comparison to the others. I dragged my thumbnail over the tip of her nipple causing another cry out of her lips and I marvelled at how sensitive she was. I pinched it between my fingers again and with a quick glance to make sure her eyes were still closed and her head was back I leaned in and took her nipple between my teeth, through her clothes. Her eyes shot open as she looked down at me, but instead of pushing me away, like I thought she was going to, both her hands tangled in my hair and held me against her.
I was so wet. I could tell she was too because I could feel it. Even through her panties and my jeans, I could feel it on me.
"I'm so wet," I mumbled against her nipple and suddenly she was pushing my head back against the couch and I was suddenly very terrified that my words had just ended this. Instead her fingers found the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head and to the ground before I even knew what was happening.
"Me too," she whispered, softly, her eyes never leaving mine as she took my good hand and slowly dragged it down her body, underneath her skirt. I was holding my breath wondering if this was it, but her hand stopped at the inside of her thigh, that was soaked with her, "Can you feel it?"
I nodded, because I was still having trouble breathing and words at that point were impossible. She leaned down and began to kiss and suck down my chest. Her hips had stilled against me and I figured it was because she was too close to continue. I felt her hands at the front of my jeans and realized she had already popped open the top button and was dragging the zipper down.
"What are you doing," I whispered, staring down at her shaking hands.
She bit her lip again and said, "I just want to feel how wet you are."
Her hand slipped into my jeans, her short nails grazing my centre as her hand rested against the inside of my thigh. She made a short whimper as she discovered my arousal on my thigh and her soft fingers began to stroke up and down.
I couldn't take it anymore. How much was one horny girl supposed to be able to take before she spontaneously combusted? Not even the image of Santana and Karofsky naked and fornicating could save me now.
Ignoring my broken arm, I grabbed Rachel's hips swiftly and tossed her on the couch beside me so she was lying down. My body followed naturally with hers and settled in between her legs, like I was made to be there. The movement didn't even phase Rachel. Instead she smirked, grabbing the back of my head with both hands and pulling me down to her lips.
Right where I wanted to be for the rest of my life.
"Please," she moaned, breaking from my lips and catching me off guard. What did that even mean? Was that her way of telling me that she was ready?
Her lips immediately found mine again and I slid my good hand down her side and gripped the back of her thigh. I broke the kiss enough to ask, "Please what?"
"I need you to stop," she breathed, before pulling me back into a kiss and grinding her hips up against me.
If our pre-game sessions were any indication, I was entirely certain that when we finally had sex, the world would implode. Call me selfish, but even if that were the case, I'd do it anyway.
I was the one who pulled away, eliciting a whimper as my body left hers and I agreed with her reaction. Moments like this I wondered why in the hell we were waiting. I guessed moments like this would make the actual experience that much better, though.
"I should go," I sighed, my body still hovering over hers and it took all of my willpower not to fall back into her arms. My jeans were still open and now sitting halfway down my butt and I saw her eyes drift downwards to my panties that had been uncovered.
"You're very beautiful, Brittany," Rachel said, licking her lips as she trailed her finger tips down my abs and hooked them into the hem of my panties.
Rachel was the queen of mixed signals and hot and cold, and with a shaky breath I groaned, "You're going to be the death of me."
Her eyes flashed up to mine and there was a sexy smirk on her face as she bit down on her lip, "You make me wanna be bad."
"You have no idea," I growled, my eyes staying locked with hers, fighting for dominance or maybe just to tell her that I needed her as much as she needed me. I did. I needed her. Not just sexually, it was like she was my soulmate or some kind of cliched term like that. It felt like even if she wasn't my girlfriend, we still were meant to be the best of friends. We were meant to always be there for each other and help each other through the good times and the bad. Weird right? That I had known her for so long and nothing had come out of it before now. Except maybe there were signs before, and maybe I had noticed without noticing. The little pangs that I felt when I was around her of something that I couldn't decipher so I ignored completely. The little shocks that erupted through my body each time I touched her or brushed against her, they were so slight I could easily shake them off as nothing at all, but now, thinking back, maybe the universe was trying to tell me something. Maybe when you found that one special person in the entire world you got those real sparks between you that you could actually feel. Not the ones that you think you feel because you're attracted to someone, this was different. I wondered if she knew it to.
"What do you feel," I whispered, brushing my nose against hers.
Her lips parted, expecting me to kiss her and completely drawn in to my body. She licked her lips slowly as her hands wrapped around me to my back, pulling me down until I was once again pressed between her legs, "You, all over me."
I rewarded the answer with a kiss to her lips, even though it wasn't what I had meant, and then tried again, "I mean inside."
I shifted my weight to lean on my cast, digging into the couch below her, then dragged my right hand down the middle of her chest, "Do you feel the sparks?"
I was so lost in her and my thoughts that I forgot she probably didn't know what that meant, she hadn't been included in the conversation I had been having with myself.
"I think I've felt them since the first time you hugged me," she breathed, her eyes never drifting from mine and I felt like I could see into her soul. Even without being included in the conversation, we were still on the same page. She still understood everything, "I always knew there was magic between us. It's different with you. I feel like the world makes sense and for the first time in my life, someone really understands me. I'm also a little scared. I've never felt like this before and so fast. I've never wanted to lose control so badly as I do with you."
"You're safe with me," I promised, kissing her gently and taking the time to really feel her lips locking in mine, savouring her. I had to admit, she was the best kisser I'd ever had, and I had kissed a lot of people. Maybe it was because of this strange cosmic bond we had, where we both knew which way to tilt our heads and when the best time was to deepen the kisses. The explosion of fireworks I saw behind my eyes each time was something new too. I always thought when people claimed they saw fireworks when kissing that it was just something they said, and maybe it was for them, but for me, there were real fireworks. Hell, I could hear the whole Macy's Parade in my head.
"I know," she whispered, in between soft kisses and the vibration of her words tickled my lips.
We laid like that for awhile, never escalating past the tender kisses that were too sweet to not enjoy. My body cooled down considerably, as we enjoyed our make out session, and although I was still very aware that I was near half naked with my jeans almost entirely off my butt, the fingers kneading gently into my shoulder blades was enough to satisfy me for now.
A soft beeping noise interrupted us and I broke away from Rachel with a questioning look.
"My dads will be home soon," she sighed, stroking the sides of my face with her fingers.
"You have an alarm to tell you when your dads will be home," I laughed, confused by why she would need that, other than the present time.
"I like to have supper ready for them on Fridays when they get home," she shrugged, "They're always so tired it's just one less thing they have to worry about."
"You're such a good daughter," I smiled, kissing her one final time before sitting back on my heels and retrieving my shirt from the floor. I jumped as I felt her hands on my lower abdomen and looked down to realize that she was helping to button my jeans.
She giggled lightly at my reaction and said, "I thought I would help you because of your arm."
"Thanks," I said, feeling my cheeks grow hot as she zipped up my fly. I threw my shirt over my head before leaning down to kiss her again, "I'll see you tomorrow at seven."
"Tomorrow at seven," she nodded with a smile.