DISCLAIMER: Glee, the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ryan Murphy Productions, and 20th Century Fox Entertainment. This piece of fan fiction was created for fun and not profit.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Rachel Berry cries when she comes.
It's one of the many things Quinn knows about Rachel that Quinn shouldn't. There are the perfunctory things, like the fact that Rachel uses the word 'perfunctory'. A word she learned from the New York Times crossword puzzle, which Rachel completes each and every Sunday.
Quinn knows that. She also knows Rachel's favorite perfume, shampoo, color, movie, book and the songs on her favorite work-out mix cd.
Then there are the 'other' things. The things Quinn really shouldn't know but does; the taste, texture and feel of Rachel's nipples, the mewling sound Rachel makes at that first contact of Quinn's fingers brushing over Rachel's clit, the rise of Rachel's hips, the wetness that saturates Quinn's fingers.
Quinn knows what Rachel tastes like. She knows every fold, crevice and crease, when to use her lips, tongue and fingers. How to hold back just enough to make Rachel beg for it, and how fast and hard Rachel likes it.
Quinn knows Rachel's a power bottom, dominated but in control, and a learned reader of The Lesbian Kama Sutra (her favorite book even though she tells everyone it's 'Pride and Prejudice'. Quinn knows better now). She likes it from behind with Quinn on top. Like now, Rachel's on her stomach, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists, sheets clenched between her fingers. Quinn's breasts pressed against Rachel's back, her hand between Rachel's legs, two fingers in until Rachel asked for a third.
Sometimes, Rachel likes it when Quinn talks dirty in her ear but not tonight. Not now. Now, it's slow and steady, and Quinn wants this moment to last forever because she's never seen anything so sexy in her life. Words, soft and gentle, are purred into Rachel's ear and Rachel responds with another mewl, increasing the pace of her hips.
Rachel wasn't a virgin the first time she and Quinn had sex. Who Rachel's first was, Quinn doesn't know. Quinn's kind of afraid to ask. She doesn't like the idea of someone being there before her. She doesn't like the idea of Rachel knowing more than Quinn does about 'this'. Not that she's complaining because, God, does she really like doing this. Quinn's afraid to ask because she's afraid this might end.
Of all the things Quinn knows, she's still not sure how 'this' happened. Oh, it wasn't like with Puck, where it was good but bad, painful and kinda awkward. Quinn's supposed to hate Rachel. Her drive, ambition, talent and unwillingness to compromise. It was easier to hate her when there wasn't a Finn standing between them, when Quinn had to get close to drive the two of them apart. But, she got close.
And, as the saying goes, there's a thin line between love and hate.
An argument turned to fight, there was pushing and shoving, and then Quinn was shoved up against a wall and kissed breathless.
Quinn knows Rachel's a good kisser. No, scratch that, a great kisser. There was that shocked moment afterwards of 'did what just happened really happen?' before Rachel ran off. The old Quinn, the one who hated Rachel, really wanted to twist the screws. Rachel had shown her hand and had no more cards to play. It was game, set and match.
But there was that kiss. Rachel may have kissed Quinn, but it was Quinn who shoved her tongue down Rachel's throat. It was Quinn who put her hands on Rachel's hips and pulled the two of them together until they were grinding against each other.
That kissed plagued Quinn like a fevered dream, the way Rachel's hands held Quinn's face, the feel of her lips, full and soft and tasting like cherry lip-gloss, Rachel's thigh.. God, Rachel's thigh. Quinn pulled them together and Rachel's thigh slipped between Quinn's legs, pressed against her 'right there'. It all happened so fast for a moment that stretched to infinity, when the only things that existed were Rachel's lips, breasts and that thigh.
Back then, Quinn knew very few things about Rachel. She just knew she wanted to feel Rachel again.
And then it happened, Quinn showed up on Rachel's doorstep. They sat on the edge of Rachel's bed, all awkward and tense and eyes focused downwards at clasped hands on knees. Then Quinn kissed Rachel, because she couldn't stand it anymore, Rachel kissed Quinn back. And Quinn got to know Rachel, she began to know Rachel's lips, her hands as they cupped Quinn's breasts, the one that slid between them and into Quinn's panties. Fingers. Rachel's fingers, slender and strong and, God, was it really supposed to feel like 'this'? She began to know Rachel's lips in other ways - her lips, her tongue and those fingers. There. Quinn came like she was starring in her own porn flick, all writhing body and guttural cry erupting from her throat.
Rachel kissed Quinn again, and Quinn knew what she tasted like. She wanted to know if Rachel tasted like that. Rachel let her. Rachel was flushed pink and glistening wet. She let out this pained sigh at the first exploratory swipe of Quinn's tongue that practically had Quinn coming again. Quinn took her time. It was weird and new and really fucking hot. Then Rachel stopped being quite so patient, threading those fingers into Quinn's hair, arching her hips and pushing Quinn's head down.
Quinn learned Rachel Berry cries when she comes.
"Did I hurt you?" Quinn asked, sliding her body next to Rachel's and brushing the tear on Rachel's cheek with the back of her fingers.
"No. It's.." Rachel smiled sheepishly, eyes closed tight like she was too afraid to open them. "It's never felt like that before."
Quinn was glad Rachel's eyes were closed so she wouldn't see the goofy grin plastered all over Quinn's face. She'd done 'that'. To Rachel Berry. It wasn't gloating, like she'd pulled one over on Rachel. Her motivations were simple, she wanted to pleasure Rachel as Rachel had pleasured her. Although, there'd been no crying when Quinn came and she momentarily wondered if Rachel had done something wrong. Then again, this was only her second time actually having sex, the first time it actually felt good. She figured there'd be time to figure out if she was doing it right.
Rachel opened her eyes. "What's wrong?"
Quinn furrowed her brows. She hadn't really thought about what would come after. Her only thoughts had been of the kiss she shared with Rachel and how much she wanted to do it again. She didn't expect Rachel to invite her in. She didn't expect for she and Rachel to have sex.
"I won't tell anyone," Rachel spoke. "At least you don't have to worry about me getting you pregnant." Quinn only half-smiled at Rachel's attempt at humor. "Quinn?"
Quinn lifted her eyes, meeting Rachel's. "What are we supposed to do now?"
"What do you want to do?"
"Have you not answer a question with a question, for starters."
"Quinn," Rachel lifted her hand, cupping Quinn's face, running her thumb over Quinn's lips. "What do you want?"
"I don't want for this to end."
It didn't end. Just became more complicated and the web of lies Quinn had spun just became bigger and bigger and Quinn began to feel less like the web's maker and more an insect trapped in the web.
Trapped except for the moments she was with Rachel. The knowing glances and passed notes during random classes. Texts and emails. Stolen kisses in the locker room. The brush of fingers as they passed each other in the hallway. The times spent alone on Rachel's bed, when it felt like the entire world disappeared and all that existed was Rachel and Quinn.
"Quinn.." Rachel keened, squeezing her eyes closed even tighter. The tell-tale sign and Quinn knows Rachel's about to come. She pushes her fingers a little deeper, just like Rachel likes and Rachel's bucking beneath her, wriggling and writhing, lips parting as pained moans are exhaled.
Quinn gently presses her lips to the corner of Rachel's eyes, tasting the tear on her lips. When it's over, like really over, Quinn slides over Rachel and onto her side, pulling Rachel into her arms. Panted breaths turned to a slow and relaxed breathing and Quinn knows Rachel's asleep.
Quinn's eyes stay open and focused on the ceiling. She can't sleep. Her heart begins to hammer at the words formed in her mind and the possibility that, this time, she might actually say them.
Her lips purse like they're fighting until she opens her mouth and whispers..
"I love you, Rachel."
Quinn knows many things about Rachel Berry. She just doesn't know if Rachel Berry knows that.
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