It's the middle of December, which means Christmas is just around the corner. And, this year, she has to think about Hanukkah, because her girlfriend's totally Jewish.
They've been dating for a little over three months, which isn't forever, but it's long enough for Quinn to gain three specific anniversary gifts: a Bedazzled magnetic picture frame with a photo of herself and Rachel from the digital picture booth at Blastorama, a tiger striped skinny tie (in honor of Mr. Cuddlestripes), and a silver key chain with close your eyes, give me your hand etched on it.
The seeming longevity of their relationship also means that Santana has taken to asking Quinn, at least once a week, if she and Rachel have: Knocked boots, done the mattress mambo, made some friction, done the humpty hump (see also: lust and thrust), mingled limbs, scissored, or stormed the trenches.
Every single time, Quinn's reply is, "Not yet."
On this specific afternoon, though, with two days until Winter Break, when Santana catches her after their Lit final and asks if they've "hobbled the horsey", Quinn says, "I think we're going to."
"Yeah. Or... what was a sex thing you just said, right? I actually can't ever tell."
"I don't really have it on my calendar. We're just talking about it."
"Oh my god. I can't handle you guys. It's gross."
"You two sitting around trying to figure out sex."
"Well, not all of us have been doing it since we were fourteen."
"Oh crap, you two actually do have little discussions, don't you?" Santana grabbed Quinn's hand and wrote something on it.
"What is this?"
"It's something you need to watch, just trust me."
"I don't really think porn is our style..."
"So, Quinn, I've taken the liberty of looking up a few things, as per our conversation via email last night."
They're in the cafeteria and Quinn just sits down next to Rachel at their usual table in the south corner of the space. Kurt usually joins them, but he's still at the tail end of the lunch line. Santana's also currently MIA, but that's not uncommon.
"Um, okay." Before she can ask anything else, Rachel already has her netbook open.
"Let me just bring up the pa- Huh, that's odd. Everything worked just fine at home."
"Wait, what's the name of the site?" Quinn leans closer to get a better look, then immediately shuts the cover.
"You missed my fingers by a very narrow margin. And given what was on that site, I'll be needing them for-"
"You can't look at porn at school, Rach!" she says in a harsh whipser.
"It's not pornography. It's an informative website."
"Does it have sex pictures?"
"Sweetie, you're going to get us in trouble."
"I just like to be efficient!"
"I know." Quinn unscrews the cap to her Vitamin Water. "How was the Government final?"
"Tedious." Rachel has her own packed lunch from home, including tofu satay, which she immediately offers to Quinn.
"But you think you did okay, though, right?"
Rachel nods and rests a hand on Quinn's knee, gently rubbing her thumb over the denim of her jeans. "It seems that flashcard drills are equally effective with your hands up my shirt."
"I imagine next semester's finals will be even easier as we'll likely be studying," Rachel leans in and says the last bit directly into Quinn's ear, "with my hands in your pants."
Quinn spits Vitamin Water clear across the table.
The movie Santana recommends is on Netflix, but Quinn's never even heard of it. Rachel's already over to study for tomorrow, anyway, but they've been reviewing everything for ages and she's pretty sure she can't cram anything else into her head.
"I've heard of this!" Rachel declares upon seeing the title on the screen.
"But you haven't seen it?"
Quinn's lucky she already studied for her calculus final over the weekend because there would have been impossible to study tonight.
"So?" Santana's waiting by her locker.
"So, my mom came home right after the sex scene and wanted us to bake cookies together."
"Sweet, sex and cookies."
"No. Not sweet. Rachel and I couldn't even look at each other because all we could think about was..."
"That's when you're supposed to do it, Fabray. Anyway, if your girlfriend's going to be picking out your sweater vests three times a week, you two really should be threading the needle."
"Okay that... where do you even get these? I went to an all boys' school and spent time in a locker room and never heard any of the weird shit you say to me."
"I take the time to educate myself, thanks."
"And what, you're so educated you can't hold down a girlfriend?"
"It's called playing the field. And this latest one's kind of a creeper."
"Melissa? I thought she went to Carmel."
"She does, but she keeps showing up here." Santana actually looks over her shoulder. "But, whatever, she lets me-"
"Ew, I so don't want to hear the rest of that."
"- drive her classic Mustang Mach 1. Jesus, Q, have a little faith in me."
"There's not a ton of room in the backseat for the two person push-up, but we managed."
"I hate you."
"You love me. Carry my books."
Finals are over and the weekend lies ahead, followed by two weeks of vacation. Quinn feels a little guilty that she's hoping the season set aside to celebrate the birth of Jesus is hopefully about to double as her gateway into intimate sexy time with Rachel.
Saturday's perfect, because her mom's gone all day at some church fundraiser event, so they have the house to themselves. Quinn's certain they'll stay confined to the bedroom, but the assurance that her mother won't be knocking to suggest they join her for the latest episode of Chopped gives her an added boost of confidence.
"Is it weird to do this during the day, though?" she asks as she shuts the bedroom door.
Rachel's already on the bed with her netbook open in front of her. "I would assume it's useful to actually be able to see what we're doing, so no."
"Isn't that, like, a thing for some people? And are you checking Facebook, right now? I thought we had a plan." Plan or not, she's still nervous, which is probably evident by the way her hands are shoved in her jeans pockets and rhythm of her socked foot shuffling back and forth against the floor.
"I was just looking something up. For reference."
"I think we can figure it out."
Rachel looks up from the screen and a slow smile spreads across her face at the sight of Quinn still standing in the middle of the room, foot grazing the carpet. She shuts off the computer and rises from the bed, then sets the computer on the desk before she pads over to her girlfriend. "I like this shirt on you, by the way."
"Thanks, it's Kurt approved." It's a plaid snap-button up, with a hint of western flair.
Already, Rachel's head is tilted up and she's pressing her lips to Quinn's. This isn't new, at all, but it kind of feels different. Maybe because she knows this is specifically leading to something. Only, they're not going to get much done standing in the middle of the room.
The kiss is the kind that's a slow build and Quinn doesn't really want to break it, so she figures maybe they can shuffle toward the bed together, except it's impossible to see where she's going with her eyes closed.
"Crap, sorry," she says, looking down. "Was that your foot?"
"Yeah." Rachel nods. "It's okay. Didn't hurt."
"Good." Quinn eyes the distance between their position and the bed. It's not that far. But she doesn't want to step on her girlfriend, again.
Rachel's always been pretty good at reading her, and right now is no exception. She turns around, clutching a loose handful of Quinn's shirt, and leads them to the edge of the bed. "This wasn't specifically illustrated, but I assume we should start here."
She's kneeling on the bed, facing Quinn, which makes it impossible to not start kissing again, so they do. There's a tug at the bottom of the shirt and at least half the snaps pop open and that's incredibly hilarious to Rachel.
"Stop," Quinn mumbles, "laughing."
"Trying," but she can't contain her giggles. "Sorry." Rachel pulls back and takes a breath like she's about to perform on stage or something. "Okay." That seems to calm her down and she yanks the remaining buttons open.
But now it's too serious, which elevates everything back to a giggle fest. Rachel falls back against the bed and Quinn moves with her, except her arms are stuck in the shirt because she's trying to take it off at the same time, so she kind of lands face first on Rachel's sweater clad stomach.
"Help me." She's already imagining the rest of the evening and wondering just how much Santana will make fun of her if she didn't actually have sex because she was trapped in her stupid shirt.
With Rachel's assistance, but mostly just a moment of patience, the shirt easily comes off and the impending crisis is averted.
What immediately follows is familiar territory. They've been holding steady at second for almost the entire duration of their relationship, though they've progressed from the modest over the clothes stuff to some rather intense topless make-out sessions. It was one of those that led to them rounding shortstop earlier this week (which isn't an actual base, but where else do you put dry-humping?), or they would have if Rachel's dads hadn't come home right in the middle of everything and made Quinn so frantic to find her shirt that she rolled right off Rachel's bed.
Currently, she's flat on her back, while Rachel's positioned herself directly on top of Quinn, knees on either side of her hips. Rachel's still wearing a bra, Quinn's not. Their hands are locked together on both counts and pressing against the comforter directly above Quinn's head. Kissing's a thing, like always, but there's a newer added element where the pressure of Rachel's body against Quinn's is generating a need for reactionary resistance and all Quinn knows is that she really needs them to finish taking off their clothes, like, yesterday.
It happens a little less gracefully than she imagines it will. She actually has to get up to pull her jeans all the way off, but Rachel's skirt proves much less difficult. There's an awkward moment where she's not sure if she should take off her underwear, but she figures she might as well if they're actually serious about this and she doesn't want to have to, like, stop in the middle of something else just to deal with them. Rachel picks up on the cue and sheds her own undergarments.
And then then both immediately dive under the sheet, because as much as they want to have sex, they've never actually seen each other naked before. Quinn's still self-conscious about her post-baby body and feels like she probably always will be.
When they're horizontal, again (this time, side by side), she leans in to resume the kissing. Until Rachel yelps.
"Ow, wait! You're on my hair!"
"It's okay. Maybe I should put it up."
"I like it, though."
"What if it gets in the way?"
"I'll deal with it."
Rachel runs her hand through Quinn's hair, which is about as long as it was right after the New York trip. "Yours should be fine. I'm glad you left something to grab on to, though."
"What... exactly is it that you think we'd be doing where you'd need to... grab on?"
"Not so much need to as want to..."
Quinn feels the flush creeping across her skin. "So, um..." She's not sure what should happen next.
But Rachel apparently already has a game plan, because she pushes Quinn onto her back and begins leaving kisses along the length of her body as she disappears under the covers.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"I... thought I'd... go down on you. You mentioned the other day that it interested you."
"I... You can't just open with that." She hadn't considered that Rachel would just jump right into it, though it's not a huge surprise. The girl's probably been studying up for this just as much as she did the last week's final exams.
"Traditionally, oral sex is a form of foreplay which is often considered a precursor to the main sexual event." Rachel's chin rests on her stomach. "So, technically, it's an opening act. But... I don't have to if you'd prefer something else."
In this moment, Quinn realizes (probably not for the first time) that her girlfriend will never be like anyone else, that she will always be Rachel Berry, a little bit out of her mind, but always unique and that's one of the things she loves most about her. Also, she looks incredibly adorable with her head peeking out from under the sheet while she waits for Quinn's response.
"I love you," she says and immediately feels warmth and happiness at the look that reflects on Rachel's face. It's another 'not first, but different'. She's pretty sure today's going to be full of them.
Contrary to the fact that several people seem to think she's a frigid bitch who never indulges in any form of self pleasure, Quinn Fabray is actually fairly adept at getting herself off. Really, how would she be able to keep her horny boyfriends in check if she was equally as worked up without any form of release? The power of prayer only extends so far, particularly when it comes to teenage libido. Yeah, she let people think that Celibacy Club apparently translated to Nun Club, but few people took their membership seriously, anyway. And, frankly, she probably would have imploded if she hadn't engaged in some serious solitaire (thanks, Santana) during the pregnancy.
She knows what works for her. But then this whole thing with Rachel's mouth? Totally new.
It's almost frustrating, because the build up is so much slower, but as her hips begin to rise and fall and Rachel has to actually grab on to her thighs, the appeal is clear. She's had her eyes closed, but when she opens them on whim, she realizes she's been missing out, because the sight of Rachel (who, by now, shoved the covers away probably to keep from suffocating under them) between her legs is, like, the hottest thing she's ever seen.
When she comes, it isn't mind blowing, there aren't fireworks. But she feels really, really good. And out of breath. But mostly loved.
Rachel's wiping at her face, but Quinn doesn't care, she just grabs her and pulls them together, kissing her and realizing the heady taste on her girlfriend's lips is herself. It seems like something that should be weird, but it totally isn't.
They're tangled together and it takes an extra movement to get Quinn's arm out from under Rachel, but then she's successfully on top of her, hand lingering over her girlfriend's stomach before dropping to a thigh.
There's another kiss before she needs to make some eye contact and when she does, she asks, "Are you ready? Can I..."
Rachel nods. "Yeah."
Quinn waits for any further instruction, because Rachel's been a fiend about diagrams and positions and technique all week. "Anything specific you want?"
"Just you, Quinn."
She ends up with a bit of a cramp in her forearm when all is said and done, but Rachel's content, she's happy, and they're wrapped up in each other in a way that's probably so damn cute it's ridiculous. Later, they'll go for a second round and Quinn will discover just how much she loves going down on her girlfriend, even with an accidental kick to face.
For the moment, though, this is just enough.