A/N: This doesn’t exactly fit the prompt it was written for (more like a prequel), so I’ll just post it as is. :} Hopefully I’ll get to the actual prompt soon. :D
*
Rachel’s trembling. She’s clutching at the loop of the subway, trying to convince herself she’s made the right decision. She knows she has. She really does.
But that doesn’t mean she’s completely okay with it.
Quinn and Santana’s words keep repeating in her ears. Her own words to the student director keep on repeating.
Had she… Had she just, colloquially, shot herself in the foot? Had she ruined her future within the artistic, including Broadway, world?
Rachel closes her eyes, pushing her forehead into her own shoulder as she listens to the clacking of the subway car and the getting on and off of strangers. She knows how many stops there are between NYADA and her and Kurt’s apartment, so for now, she figures, letting out a deep sigh and forcing herself to exist in some alternate calm universe, she’ll pretend it’s just like any normal day.
Any normal day.
Any normal day that evaporates as soon as she opens the door to her apartment. There’s some sort of upbeat music circling through the space, two familiar voices blending in wonderful laughter. “Quinn? Santana?” she calls out, voice tremulous.
A dark head followed by a blonde one pop up from the couch. “Rache?” Santana seems to blurt, suddenly there, more there than she’d been the past few years.
“Rachel?” Quinn echoes, hands pushing against Santana’s shoulders, cheeks pink and lips swollen as Rachel realizes just how close she’s been getting with Santana, ” I - you’re back early. That means…?”
Rachel blinks. “I… Turned it down,” she admits, slowly, studying the two girls, “That’s… That’s right, right?”
Both girls stare at her, suddenly surging up and off the couch, skirting it to reach out towards her.
“Of course!” Santana snaps, fingers brushing along Rachel’s wrist.
“That’s - we’re proud of you!” Quinn says effulgently, smiling, hazel eyes brightening as they meet Rachel’s. They soften, snaring Rachel as Santana presses closer, and Rachel suddenly realizes Santana has wrapped her arms around her back.
Rachel lets out a deep sound of question. “S-San…?”
A cold nose rubs along her cheekbone, sharp fingernails biting into her waist. “Berry,” Santana sighs, quick, hopeful, short, “Can we - let me… Let us…”
It isn’t until Quinn presses her lips to Rachel’s cheek, just above her own lips, that Rachel realizes just what’s going on. Though, perhaps, more startlingly to the normally demure part of her, she isn’t surprised.
Somehow, some part of her, knew this was going to happen as soon as she’d opened the door to the two girls.
And, honestly, it’s not like she disapproves.
Instead, Rachel finds herself arching into Santana’s grip, her hand coming up to slide along Quinn’s waist. It’s like she’d already planned for this, her fingers slipping into Santana’s hair as she pulls Santana’s mouth to hers, her other hand making sure Quinn isn’t too far enough away to kiss as soon as Santana pulls back.
Tellingly, there’s heat and awareness overflowing in her lower stomach, out along her legs and up into her chest, hands kneading and exploring both girls in turn.
Quinn gasps against Rachel’s forehead, breath hot and quick. Santana nibbles along her jaw. Rachel, for her part, is trying to force the faintness both girls are giving her away.
“Wait,” she finally protests, backpedaling, feeling her eyes darken as they meet both girls’ gazes in turn, “I need, my – my bed?” Her voice strangles at the last word, because she really doesn’t – no, she really doesn’t know how far both girls want to go, “Is that, is that okay?”
“Fuck,” Santana hisses, surging forward to kiss her again, body flush against hers, “More than fucking okay!”
“I agree,” Quinn whispers heavily as soon as Rachel pulls back from Santana’s urgent mouth again, hands pushing against Rachel’s waist to lead her to her bed, “Totally agree.”
Falling back, almost crumpling back against the force of both girls, Rachel stares at the both of them. She doesn’t know, not really, how this is supposed to go, seeing as she’s never been part of a threesome before, but at least it’s not the first time she’s been attracted or turned on by either girl. Because Santana and Quinn? They’re… They’re just hot.
Hot and, fuck, Rachel finds herself moaning uncharacteristically as Santana grabs at her shirt, Quinn focusing on the zipper of her jeans, available.
Too, too available.
Quinn’s breath flows over Rachel’s belly button, sneaking out along the waistband of her underwear. In the opposite hemisphere, Santana is staring down at Rachel’s bust, fingers taught and unfamiliar along the bumps of her ribs as she pulls at the edges of Rachel’s over-shirt.
“Rache?” Santana murmurs, eyes meeting hers, “You…?”
“Yes,” Rachel gasps, not even entirely sure what she means aside from there’s too much material between her and Santana, “Just get it off already!”
Quinn chuckles, deep and rough, already pulling Rachel’s jeans down her legs. “Mmm, oh Rachel…” she groans, once taking the piece of clothing off of her after her shoes and socks, “You don’t have any idea how hot your legs are, do you?”
“Obviously not!” Gasping, laughing, Rachel shivers, feet pushing at Quinn’s waist as her hands come up to pull at Santana’s hair, “Just – show me?”
Santana’s lips curve up, kissing along her jaw, hands sliding up to cup her breasts, slipping under her bra. Quinn, echoing Santana, feels along her thighs, sighing as she brushes her lips along Rachel’s belly button and below. “As long as you want,” she smiles, nails raking along her thighs, “Forever as long as you want…”
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