A/N: This is, without a doubt, the smuttiest thing I've ever written, and it is my very first foray into the world of girl-on-girl. I'm basically scared of it, so reassuring me that it's not terrible would be awesome. Thank you, kittens!

Rachel had heard plenty of times before that living with your best friend was a surefire way to ruin your friendship, but she thinks maybe that only counts if you were best friends before you lived together. She and Santana were suitemates their freshman year of college who had bonded over a shared love of salt-and-pepper popcorn and their individual loathing of their respective roommates, and when the time to consider housing arrangements for the next school year came up, it just made sense to get a place together. They'd already shared a bathroom and a refrigerator and a wall without bloodshed. Surely they could make it work without RAs breathing down their necks.

They're graduating in three weeks and have been living in this same house - a perfect place with a spare room and a hot tub and big closets - for over two years without any major disagreements, and they've become best friends.

They've seen each other at the worst, so there's a level of comfort between them that Rachel, as an only child, has never had with anyone but her fathers. Honestly, when two people have seen each other drunkenly sobbing over a breakup (Rachel) and practically projectile vomiting during a case of food poisoning (Santana), it's hard not to be comfortable together. They've seen it all, done it all, and there isn't much that they don't share. Santana has become the best friend that Rachel didn't ever think she'd be lucky enough to find.

The first time Rachel met Puck was freshman year. He and Santana were friends from high school, so he came to visit over winter break. Rachel was the only other person in the suite, still in the city because she'd agreed to be a part of a winter concert series her program was putting on. The first night he was in town, she'd been woken up sometime after two a.m. when they came in from the house party they'd been at, Santana giggling and Puck swearing, and Rachel had ended up sleeping with her iPod when she'd started hearing the springs on Santana's bed squeak.

The next morning, when she was standing at the counter out in the kitchenette, stirring hazelnut-flavored non-dairy creamer into her coffee, she'd heard Santana's door open and turned to say good morning.

And was met with the sight of a completely naked Puck.

"Oh my god!" She turned back to face the wall, focusing her gaze on the glossy white paint and trying to ignore the sound of his belt buckle clinking behind her. She'd noticed his jeans in a pile on the floor next to Santana's door, but she didn't know that meant he'd appear naked.

"Sorry," he muttered, though he didn't really sound sincere."I didn't know you'd be up."

"It's fine," she'd insisted, turning back to him and pretending that her cheeks weren't flaming.

It was never awkward though, because neither of them acted any differently than before, and Rachel appreciates that neither of them turned it into a big deal. Skin's just skin.

That's what she keeps telling herself, at least.

He's sort of floated around the periphery the entire time she's known Santana, coming for long weekends and some holiday breaks and things, and last summer he stayed with the girls for two weeks. Rachel spent much of that time drunk or recovering from being drunk, and it was rather fantastic.

He apparently just picked a city to move to after high school, ended up in St. Louis teaching guitar and piano lessons, and Rachel knows that he writes songs and could probably do a lot more if he really put his mind to it. Still, he's Santana's friend, not Rachel's, so she keeps her thoughts to herself and just enjoys his company when he's around. And she does enjoy his company.

He's a lot of fun and an incorrigible flirt. She thinks he's probably something of a womanizer, but she still likes the way he compliments her, the way his eyes sometimes linger on her breasts or her legs. The attention is flattering, even if she doesn't intend to do anything about it. He and Santana aren't in a relationship, but you don't go beyond flirting with your best friend's sex buddy.

"Hey, how do you feel about Puck living with us for a while?"

The question catches her off guard, which she thinks was Santana's goal considering she asked the question in the morning before Rachel even had two sips of her coffee. "What do you mean?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "He's decided that he can't live in that shit hole - his words - any more, and he wants to move up here. He was wondering if he could hang out here till he gets some work and can afford a place of his own." She must notice how hesitant Rachel is, because she quickly adds, "I told him no more than six months, and that we would kick him out if he was being a pain in the ass. And he's going to kick in for rent and utilities."

It doesn't sound too unreasonable, and she likes Puck well enough. She always has fun when he's around, and they have that little spare room that's always served as a guest bedroom in the past.

"Sure," she answers with a shrug. "When will he be here?"

"Two weeks."

It turns out that Puck doesn't have much stuff. The three of them work together to wrestle the daybed out of the spare room and into the little storage shed at the back of the yard, along with a handful of boxes of things Puck says aren't necessary. Now instead of walking through a room with a daybed (that only gets used when someone neither girl wants to share a bed with is drunk in their house) to get to the hot tub on the screened-in porch, they'll have to walk through Puck's bedroom, his bed taking up nearly all of the space in the tiny room.

Rachel knows Puck well enough now that she's sure he won't mind the girls passing through his room. He's completely open and not at all shy; she thinks he could be having sex with another girl when you walked in and he wouldn't be bothered.

Honestly? She thinks he'd probably start showing off or ask you to join in or something.

(She spends just a little bit too much time wondering exactly what 'showing off' would entail.)

Santana and Puck are friends, Rachel knows, who sometimes have sex. She hears them once or twice after he moves in, but she sort of tunes it out after that, and it doesn't happen often. Mostly, though, they're all just really comfortable together. She and Santana have lived together for about four years, since they started college, and they've sort of seen one another in every way possible. There was a time in Rachel's life when she was insecure about her looks - mostly her face, honestly - but she's grown out of it, and she's perfectly comfortable with her body. She's in the habit of wandering around the house in very little clothing, and that doesn't change when Puck moves in.

Puck, she learns, has absolutely no shame whatsoever.

She wakes up from a nap one afternoon to the sound of Santana's near-hysterical giggling coming from the kitchen and, naturally, decides that she should investigate. And really, the fact that she isn't at all surprised by what she sees when she walks into the kitchen says an awful lot about all three of them.

Santana is perched on one of the bar stools at the island that serves as their kitchen table, giggling her head off and clutching at her sides as she watches Puck, who is completely naked, his hips swinging from side to side as he thrusts them forward along with the tune of "Single Ladies," which he's humming, though he's replacing the lyrics with a chorus of, "if you like it then you shoulda put your thing in it."

Santana catches sight of Rachel standing in the doorway and completely loses it, nearly falling off the stool she's laughing so hard. Puck just grins and keeps dancing, winks at Rachel when she shakes her head.

She leaves them there in the kitchen like that to go get ready for work, and when she comes out of her room later, she can hear Santana moaning in her bedroom. She feels the tiniest stab of jealousy - it's been a while - but she doesn't think much of it. It's normal for this house.

As much as she'd like to ignore it, Rachel starts to find herself paying attention to Puck and Santana when they're together. She can't quite ignore it when they're having sex just down the hall, catches herself wondering what it is that Santana did to make Puck groan so loudly, how Puck is touching Santana that makes her scream his name when she comes. There's just something about the way they interact that's compelling.

It's not quite a problem, but almost.

The three of them go to a party together at their friend Matt's house. The girls have known Matt since freshman year, when he lived in the suite below theirs, and Puck has gotten to know him since moving to Chicago. He and Rachel dated off and on for a couple of years, and they have a tendency to fall into bed together when they're both single. It's a good friendship.

There are people playing beer pong in the kitchen, so it's loud and crowded, and Rachel's had her drink topped up enough times that she's more than a little drunk. She wanders out the back door, sort of vaguely looking for Matt, and finds Puck and Santana instead. Puck is standing in front of where Santana is sitting on the deck railing, her legs wrapped around his hips as they kiss.

Rachel cocks her head to the side and watches Puck fist his hand in the back of Santana's hair, tug her head back, and bite at her bottom lip, making her moan. "You're shameless," she tells them.

Puck turns his head and shoots her a smirk. "Don't have any reason to be ashamed."

Rachel just shakes her head when Santana puts her hand on his face, making him turn so she can kiss him again, using her legs to pull him closer.

She goes back in the house, actively looking for Matt until she finds him in the living room talking to someone. "Come with me," she whispers in his ear, making sure that her lips brush the skin there.

They go to his room and lock the door even though the house is full of people he should probably be entertaining. She spends the night, and if he thinks it's weird that she tells him that she wants him to be rough with her the second time, he doesn't comment, just does as she asks and makes her come hard when he wraps her hair around his fist and pulls hard.

Rachel and Puck spend a Saturday night sitting together at the wine bar Santana manages. It's a sort of quiet, upscale place in the basement of a high-end steakhouse with an enormous wine list (naturally) and a selection of top-shelf booze. Santana claims to be using them as guinea pigs to test her new cocktails, which just means drinking whatever she mixes and sets in front of them when she isn't helping her real customers.

Which means they're quite drunk by the time Santana shuts down.

Santana drives them home, pours three glasses of Maker's Mark on ice with mint springs from the plant Rachel is growing on the porch, and orders them into the hot tub just because it's there.

They're all hungover the next morning, sitting in the living room eating frozen french fries that Puck made and watching Cruel Intentions on some movie channel. Rachel's mind starts wandering after the girl-on-girl kiss. Later, she'll blame the bourbon still lingering in her system for what she asks.

"What's it like?" she asks abruptly. Puck and Santana both look at her expectantly. "Going down on a girl. What's it like?"

Santana laughs, curling her legs up underneath herself in the over-sized armchair she's sitting in, a throw blanket draped over her lower body. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

Rachel shrugs, ignoring the look Puck is giving her from the other end of the couch they're both on. "A random one."

She knows Santana can answer the question. The girl identifies herself as a "seventy-thirty." That is, seventy percent straight, thirty percent into girls, though Rachel's only known her to actually date one girl since they've known each other, a brunette with long legs and a filthier mouth than Santana's. Her roommate generally sticks with men, though she occasionally goes out specifically looking for a woman to bring home.

"It's awesome," Puck interjects, making Rachel roll her eyes and nudge him with her foot.

"It's not like going down on a guy," Santana says. "I mean, it's still like a power trip, and it's sexy as fuck. Pussy is prettier to look at than cock. Women make better sounds, too," she adds.

"Mmm." Rachel looks back at Puck and suddenly - strangely - remembers that she isn't wearing panties under the cotton shorts she pulled on when she woke up.

"It's kind of hard to describe," Santana says, glancing at Puck. "I can't really tell you what it's like to go down on a guy either." She shrugs her shoulders and looks back at the TV. "You just have to do it."

Rachel hates not being able to sleep.

She's generally been pretty lucky. She's never had insomnia, and she isn't a particularly light sleeper. So when she struggles to fall asleep and keeps waking up because the house is too hot, despite the running air conditioner, she's annoyed.

The fact that she can hear Santana moaning down the hall just reminds Rachel that the last guy she was with, a very sweet if inept boy named Andy, failed to make her come. Honestly, that's what she gets for having a one-night stand. They're really never worth it, but Matt is dating a new girl and is unavailable.

When she finally gets sick of tossing and turning, it's too late to steal one of Santana's melatonin tablets out of the medicine cabinet; Rachel has to be at work in just six hours, and those pills always knock her out for at least eight. She decides that drinking a glass of ice water has to be better than doing nothing, pushes the sheet down to the foot of the bed, and pads down the hallway to the kitchen.

Puck is standing at the counter in just his boxers, eating tortilla chips from the bag. "Hey."

"Hi." If it was any other man in her kitchen, she'd be uncomfortable about the fact that she's only wearing panties and a tank top, but really? She's seen Puck naked more than once, and he's certainly seen her in a bathing suit. So she just walks to the cabinet for a glass.

"What are you doing up?" he asks, rolling the bag shut beside her.

She drops a handful of ice cubes into her glass. "It's hot." She reaches into the fridge for the filter pitcher and fills her glass. She deliberately doesn't ask why he's up late. She already knows.

"Yeah, it is."

She's sipping from her glass when she turns to the side and catches him looking at her chest. She's suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that her top is nearly transparent, and while there are certainly worse things in the world than having a very attractive man staring at her breasts, she just heard him having sex with her best friend.

So she sticks her fingertips into her glass and flicks droplets of ice water into his face.

He gasps, startled, and looks at her face with wide eyes. "The fuck?" She just shakes her head and takes another sip of water, glares at him when he sticks his fingers in his own glass, sitting on the counter next to the bag of chips, and flicks water at the part of her chest left bare by her tank top. He just shrugs and says, "You started it."

Well, yes, she did. But it was his fault. So she feels perfectly justified when she does it again. It's when he flicks water into her face that she gets annoyed and decides to take this little game to the next level.

So she tosses the entire contents of her glass at his face, giggling at his wide eyes and the way the ice cubes sound when they go scattering across the tile floor. Her giggles get caught up in a gasp when he dumps his own glass on the front of her shirt, soaking it with freezing water. "You're an asshole," she tells him seriously.

He takes a step closer to her and smirks wickedly. "Your nipples are hard."

She puts her hands on his wet, bare chest when he takes another step, boxing her in between the counter and his body, tries to ignore the way her cheeks are flaming. "Because you soaked me with ice water."

He's still smirking, and she's so busy glaring up at him that she doesn't realize what he's doing with his hand until he grazes the tip of his index finger over her left nipple, making her breath catch in her throat even as she bats his hand away.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Santana's voice sort of jerks Rachel back to reality, and she sees her friend standing next to the island with her hands on her hips when Puck steps away from her. The girl is wearing the tee shirt Rachel saw Puck wearing earlier, and she's pretty confident that there's nothing underneath.

"Just cooling off," Puck answers with a shrug, stepping toward Santana.

The girl looks over at Rachel and grins like she knows something. "Right." Her gaze lingers on the soaked - and now completely transparent - front of Rachel's shirt for a moment before she look up at Puck. "Come back to my room," she orders before turning and walking away.

Puck glances over his shoulder at Rachel, winks before following Santana back down the hallway.

When Rachel goes back to bed and pulls the sheet back up over her body, she's still hot, she can hear Santana moaning down the hall again, and she's feeling more frustrated than she was before.

Working in the call center of an alumni association is just a step above trying to sell long-distance phone service. People generally don't say rude things or swear at her, but every third person she calls hangs up on her and the vast majority are obviously annoyed to have been pulled away from whatever they were doing to be asked to send money to a school they've already given thousands of dollars.

And the later in the day it gets, the worse it is.

The theater scene in Chicago doesn't suck, but it isn't quite as active as she'd like, and while she's auditioning and keeping her eyes open for the perfect role, she has to make money somehow. The call center is good money, an easy schedule, and a simple job. It just makes her crazy most of the time, and today is no exception.

She spends her drive out of the city trying to decide how she wants to spend her Friday evening at home. She has a bottle of a new red wine she's looking forward to trying, and there's always liquor in the house. She has unwatched Netflix on the kitchen counter and a half-finished novel on her bedside table, and the new issue of Vanity Fair has Audrey Hepburn on the cover.

Rachel likes having options.

Both Santana's and Puck's cars are in the driveway when Rachel pulls in, and there's a light burning in the kitchen, but Rachel doesn't mind. Unless they suddenly decide that they want to have a dozen people over, it doesn't bother her that her roommates are home. And yes, she's begun thinking of Puck as her roommate as well in the three months he's been here, and she's more comfortable having him around than she'd even expected. He pays his share of the bills and does his share of the housework; Rachel hasn't had to take the trash or recycling out once since he moved in because he's apparently adopted that as "his" chore.

She hears her name being shouted from the back of the house as soon as she walks through the front door, and she can't help smiling as she walks down the hall and through Puck's room to stand in the open door that leads out to the back porch. "Hey," she greets, hitching her purse up on her shoulder and leaning against the doorframe.

Puck and Santana are sitting in the hot tub with margarita glasses in hand. The porch is dark save for the twinkle lights Rachel strung up when they first moved in and the warm red light glowing beneath the surface of the water, and even though she can't see anything, Rachel knows they're both naked. Santana generally refuses to wear a bathing suit in the hot tub, and Puck seems to spend as much time naked as possible.

"How was work?" Puck asks.

"Pretty awful."

Santana makes a face. "Boo. Come get drunk with us."

"Are you drunk?" Rachel asks with a smile.

"Not yet, but Puck makes kickass margaritas and I swiped a bottle of Patron when I did inventory at the bar," Santana answers with a smirk. Yes, having a roommate who works as a bartender - and has fingers as sticky as Santana's can be - tends to work to Rachel's advantage. "We're on our way. You're a lightweight; you'll catch up."

It wasn't one of the options she'd considered on the drive home, but the weather has been perfect for sitting in the hot tub lately, finally cooling off from how unbearable it was all summer, and she has tomorrow off, so there won't be any serious repercussions if she gets drunk.

"Somebody pour me a margarita," she says after a moment, shaking her head a little at the way Santana smirks, and she hears the water slosh around behind her when she turns to go to her room to dump her stuff and change.

She can hear the blender running in the kitchen as she ties the strings of her white bikini; Puck and Santana may be perfectly comfortable with their nudity, but Rachel isn't quite brave enough to walk around in the buff. She knows she looks good, and she isn't ashamed or shy or anything of that ilk, but she does believe in modesty and leaving something to the imagination in a way that Santana has never, ever been able to understand. She twists her hair up off her neck because she's learned that the bromine that keeps the hot tub clean dries her hair out like crazy.

"You aren't naked," Puck observes sadly when she walks into the kitchen. To be fair, he isn't either; there's a towel wrapped around his waist.

She ignores him and holds out her hand. "Gimme."

He rolls his eyes and hands her a full glass. She takes a little sip. "Good, right?"

She nods, offers him a little wink, and then turns her back to walk across the hall and through Puck's bedroom. Santana doesn't comment on the bathing suit, just shouts for Puck to bring the pitcher out because her glass is empty.

They're each sitting against one side of the tub, Rachel with her back to the door into the house and Puck and Santana each on the adjacent sides. When their glasses aren't in their hands, they're balancing on the edge of the tub, and the only sounds are those of late-season crickets and traffic on the street out front. It really is relaxing, especially when Rachel shifts further into the corner nearest Puck so the jets are massaging her lower back.

It doesn't take Rachel long to catch up to Puck and Santana's level of intoxication. She is a lightweight, and the margaritas really are delicious, so she's drinking rather quickly. Plus, she thinks there's something about sitting in hot, bubbly water that gets you drunk more quickly. She loves that three of them can be this comfortable, sitting together and talking about nothing while they drink. Rachel tells a story about the little girl who answered the phone at one house she called, and Santana gossips about some of the waiters who work at her bar. When Puck and Santana start reminiscing about high school, Rachel catches herself zoning out just a bit, circling her finger around the rim of her empty glass.

She's jerked back to reality when she feels a hand grazing up her shin under the water.

"You all right there?" Puck asks, smirking at her. Just his fingertips are moving over her skin, just enough pressure not to tickle.

"I'm fine," she insists quickly, holding up her glass. "I just need a refill."

"I got it," Santana says, standing up. "It's my turn and I have to pee anyways."

Rachel doesn't really mean to watch Santana step over the edge of the hot tub, but the girl really does have a great derriere. And Rachel's tipsy.

Santana has just disappeared through the doorway when Puck tugs gently on Rachel's leg, his fingers wrapped around her ankle. "C'mere."

Her eyebrows come together as she looks at him. "What?"

"C'mere," he repeats, his eyes on hers. He tugs until she's perched on the little seat beside him, one hand on her thigh and the other around her back.

"What are you doing?" she asks when his lips graze her shoulder.

He shrugs, and his fingers move up her ribs to tuck under the string at the bottom of her bikini top. "Take this off, baby," he murmurs.

"No." He turns her body a little so he can skim his lips over the back of her shoulder. "Puck."

"Mmm?" His fingertips slide over so they're brushing the bottom of her breast.

"What are you doing?" she repeats, turning to look him in the eye.


He's a liar, but she would be too if she said that she really minds the way he's touching her.

Santana comes back out and hands them both drinks, which prevents Rachel from asking any more questions, and if Santana thinks that the new seating arrangement is strange, she keeps it to herself. Puck takes his drink with one hand and leaves the other on Rachel's body.

Beneath the surface of the water, Puck's fingers are moving over her skin constantly. Up her thigh, over the strings of her bottoms at her hip, circling her belly button, playing up along her ribs, going so far as to graze her nipple before heading back down. It's all very casual; they're all still having a conversation, albeit a drunken one that makes little sense, and Puck doesn't even miss a beat when the muscles of her stomach jump under his fingertips.

The more he touches her, the more she drinks.

And the more she drinks, the better it feels when he touches her.

It's a catch-22. Or it's ironic. Something. She's almost drunk.

"Why aren't you naked?" Santana asks suddenly.

Rachel blinks at her. "What?"

"I'm naked. Puck's naked. Unless you turned into a prude overnight, you should be naked."

"I am not a prude," Rachel insists, and her roommate knows better. She sucks in a breath when Noah palms her breast, but Santana's too busy sipping her drink to notice. "I'm not."

Santana just tilts her head.

Rachel knows Santana is goading her. She knows it.

She still hands her drink to Puck, stands up, and reaches behind her back, untying her top quickly and tossing it at Santana's chest before untying the sides of her bottoms and letting them fall off. "Happy?"

Santana's eyes linger on Rachel's body as she nods.

"I'm happy," Puck offers, draping the bottoms of her suit over the edge of the tub, and Rachel just rolls her eyes and sits back beside him. Truthfully, she wants him to touch her some more, and she's about half an ounce of tequila from just asking him to do it.

She she drains the last of her margarita and leans over the edge of the tub to sit the glass safely on the ground. Her head is a little hazy, so she thinks she should wait a while to drink any more. When she turns to lower herself back into her seat, Puck's hand wraps around the back of her neck, guiding her head to his so he can kiss her.

It catches her by surprise, but it probably shouldn't. He's been touching her in borderline inappropriate ways all evening, and she did just strip off her bathing suit. It makes sense that his fingertips are digging into her skin and his tongue is pushing past her lips. Her only coherent thought is that she should have done this with him ages ago, because he's excellent.

Then he slides one hand up her side and pinches her nipple, short-circuiting something in her brain even as she pulls her mouth away from his to moan. "What are you doing?" she asks when he starts kissing up the side of her neck, sucking gently on the skin just beneath her ear until until she lets out a heavy breath.

He pulls back to look at her, his hand sliding around her back and pushing her closer to him. "What I want."

He has one hand splayed over the small of her back, the other curved around the back of her neck, his thumb brushing at her hairline. It feels good, too good, so she pushes herself away from him, moving through the water back to the seat where she started.

When Rachel looks at Santana, the girl is watching her with dark eyes, twisting her wrist slowly to swirl the last of her drink in her glass. She looks thoughtful, and it makes Rachel's heart beat a little more quickly. "What?"

"You two look really good together," Santana says easily. "Sexy."

"You two would look sexy together," Puck interjects. Both girls look at him, and he's smirking at Santana.

"Yeah?" She drains the last of her drink, puts her glass aside, and moves forward, laying one hand on his shoulder. She leans in until her mouth is right next to his ear, though her eyes are on Rachel. "We already know we look sexy together," she tells him.

Rachel can't help smiling at the look on Puck's face when Santana moves to sit beside her, the latina's arm sliding around her back. His expression would be funny even if Santana was lying, but she isn't. The girls have kissed before, more than once, and Santana is an excellent kisser. The first time was part of a drinking game, but there have been others since. Once, Rachel came home crying after one of her theater professors had told her that no one would ever think she was sexy. Santana had interrupted her own 'Rachel is awesome' monologue to press her lips to the smaller girl's, sliding her hand into the back of Rachel's hair and pressing her into the back of the couch, kissing her until they were both breathless. "Don't let that jackass make you think you're not sexy," she'd insisted.

"Show me," Puck says lowly. "Prove it."

Rachel licks her lips subconsciously when Santana turns to face her. She slides her hand up Rachel's arm, her fingers wrapped around the smaller girl's bicep when their lips brush together, teasing with these tiny pecks. Rachel isn't sure if they're meant to tease her or Puck, but she gets impatient, leans in a little to press their lips together more firmly. Santana hums against her lips and moves her free hand up the side of Rachel's body, cupping her breast and kneading it gently.

She pushes her body upright a little more when Santana slides her tongue across Rachel's bottom lip, pressing their breasts together just above the surface of the water as Santana's tongue moves against hers. She hears Puck groan and ends up giggling against Santana's lips, turning her head to look at him.

"Satisfied?" Santana teases, rolling Rachel's nipple between her thumb and forefinger and making the smaller girl gasp.

"No," he answers, moving towards the girls. He puts his hand around the back of Santana's neck and turns the girl's head so he can kiss her, his tongue pushing past her lips and making her moan.

Now that Rachel's kissed Puck, watching the two of them is even sexier. He moves closer to the pair of them, his free hand sliding up Rachel's thigh beneath the water while he nips at Santana's lips. Santana is still teasing Rachel's breast with her fingers, plucking at her nipple while Puck's fingertips graze the inside of her thigh. She's nearly drunk, so she can't be blamed for the quiet sound that comes from the back of her throat

Puck squeezes her thigh, pulling away from Santana to look at Rachel. "You like that, baby?" He leans towards her, brushes his lips against hers. "You like to watch?" He nips at her lips before she can answer, teasing. "I like to watch, too, baby."

Rachel thinks that he and Santana are far too much alike, teasing her this way. She pushes her hand into the back of his hair, tightening her grip as she kisses him hard. She pulls away quickly - too quickly, really - and turns to Santana, kissing her the same way, curling her tongue around the girl's until she moans.

"Fuck," Puck bites out, his hand sliding from her thigh to her hip and squeezing hard. "I want you. I want you both."

"Yes," Santana moans, locking eyes with Rachel. "Let us have you." Rachel opens her mouth to speak, but Santana is kissing her before she can say anything. "Fuck, Rach," Santana breathes, her lips skimming across Rachel's cheek until they're at her ear. "He's so good," she whispers. "We'll be so good to you, sweets, I promise."

Rachel pulls back and looks at her roommate with wide eyes for a moment before glancing at Puck. He's watching her with dark eyes, his thumb sliding back and forth over her hipbone beneath the water. The way they're both looking at her makes her heart beat faster. "I..." She takes a deep, slow breath. "I think we should go inside."

She pulls away from both of them before they can say anything, pulls herself up over the edge of the tub and grabs a towel from the chair beside it. She slides the soft cotton over her body to wick away moisture as she pauses in the doorway, turning to look at the two of them still sitting in the hot tub. They're staring after her, looking at her like they could devour her. It sends a surge of confidence through her. It's that confidence that makes her lean against the doorframe, running her towel over her stomach slowly, and ask, "Are you coming?"

Rachel turns before either of them can say anything, but she can hear the tell-tale sloshing behind her as she crosses Puck's room. She only manages to get the lamp on his bedside table turned on before Santana is standing behind her, sliding her hands up Rachel's sides until she's cupping her breasts. "So sexy," she mutters against Rachel's neck, sucking at the skin there. Rachel can feel the girl's breasts pressing against her back, which she likes more than she thinks she should.

"Fuck." Puck breathes, making both girls turn and look over their shoulders at where he's standing by the foot of the bed watching them.

"He wants you," Santana says quietly, not taking her eyes off Puck, even when Rachel turns so the girls are standing face to face, her hands on Santana's hips. Santana's hand slides around to rest against Rachel's stomach when she says, "He told me."


"We talked about it," Santana goes on, leaning in so she's speaking right next to Rachel's ear, her breath warm against the skin. "What it would be like to have you together, to share you."

Rachel lets out a moan, a sound she didn't even realize was sitting in the back of her throat. She knows this is insane. She's never been with a woman - hasn't even seriously wanted to be - and she's never considered being with more than one person at a time beyond the hypothetical. But Santana's lips are brushing the shell of her ear, and she can practically feel Puck's gaze on her body, and she wants this. She wants to let them do whatever it is they've talked about.

The thought of that, them talking about her, fantasizing about her together, sends a thrill down her spine, makes her throb between her legs. "Yes," she breathes out.

Santana pulls back to look Rachel in the eye. "Yes?" Rachel nods. "You're sure?"

"Santana, please." Rachel turns her head to look at Puck, who seems awfully quiet, locking eyes with him and taking a slow breath. "Please."

He steps towards them, wraps his hand around her bicep, and tugs her until she's against his chest, his hardness pressing against her stomach. "You gonna let us do what we want to you, baby?" She whimpers, and she hates the way these involuntary noises are giving her away. "Gonna let us have you?"

Santana presses her front to Rachel's back at the same time as Puck grinds himself against her stomach, the taller girl's hands smoothing over Rachel's hips as she puts her mouth next to her ear. "If you want to stop, you just say the word, Rach." She presses her lips to the back of Rachel's neck, then gently tugs the elastic from Rachel's hair so it spills down her back.

She barely gets a chance to nod her head before Puck is kissing her, his hand sliding into her hair as he sips at her lips, his free hand skimming up her bare back when Santana moves away. He pushes her backwards until the backs of her knees hit the mattress, and she's smiling when she pushes herself up onto his bed, sliding backwards until she's next to Santana against his pillows. He follows her and positions his body half over hers, so she can feel how hard he is against her hip when he kisses her again.

Rachel feels Santana's lips brush against her shoulder, one hand sliding up Rachel's stomach until she's teasing a nipple. Puck is sucking at her bottom lip, the tips of his fingers teasing at the inside of her thigh, and it's so much, so much of them both that she tears her mouth away from Puck's and gasps, "Wait."

Puck and Santana both still their movements, though neither of them stops touching her completely. She turns her head to look at Santana, who is watching her carefully. "It's just really fast," she says quietly, and she's surprised when Santana smiles.

Puck chuckles lowly, his breath hot against her neck. "You want slow, baby?" He scrapes his teeth gently against her jaw, making her eyes fall closed, then soothes it with his tongue. "I can do slow."

"Go down on her," Santana says. Rachel opens her eyes to look at her. "I want to watch."

Puck leans across Rachel's body to bury a hand in Santana's hair - she wonders when the girl took it down - and kiss her lewdly, their tongues moving together in a way that makes Rachel say, "You look sexy together." She knows she's repeating words that have already been said, but it doesn't make it less true.

Santana presses a quick kiss against Rachel's lips, then puts her hand on top of Puck's head and pushes, not subtly, downward. "He's going to look hot as fuck between your legs."

She wants to laugh, but Puck catches her right nipple between his lips, circling his tongue around it and sucking until her head drops back against the pillows. She gasps when Santana's teeth close gently over her left nipple, her back arching, pushing herself closer to their mouths as she reaches up to tangle her hand in Santana's long hair.

True to his word, Puck takes his time moving down her body, his lips skating over her ribs, his fingers drawing circles around her navel. Santana is kissing her, teasing her again with little pecks and brushes of her lips, and when Puck pushes her legs wide and breathes against her, leaving his hands on her thighs, she thinks they're trying to make her crazy. She whines into Santana's mouth, pushing her hips towards his face.

Santana pushes herself up onto her hands, looking down at Rachel and watching her face carefully. "Do it, Puck." Rachel hears herself make a desperate sound. Someone needs to touch her.

Puck licks a slow stripe up her center, flicking her clit with his tongue. Her back arches up off the bed, and one hand wraps around Santana's upper arm while the other pushes into the back of Puck's hair, a gasp falling from her lips. Santana trails her tongue up the side of Rachel's neck while Puck circles his around her clit, and her whole body shudders. They've barely touched her, and she's already so close.

"How many times can you come, Rachel?" Santana asks, breath hot against Rachel's ear. "We talked about it, how many times we could make you fall apart." Puck's tongue pushes into her, his thumb swiping over her clit, and Rachel whimpers.

God. She's heard the way these two talk outside of the bedroom; she can't imagine the sorts of things they say when they're naked, the kinds of things they've apparently said about her. She's close now, with Puck's tongue between her legs and Santana's words in her ear, right on the edge. "Kiss me," she pleads, eyes closed tight.

Puck chuckles against her, the vibrations going all through her, making her moan loudly before he pulls away a little. She opens her eyes to look down at him. "I am," he says darkly, smirking up at her as he pushes two fingers inside her. He keeps his eyes locked with hers when he leans down again, placing the softest kiss against her clit as he curls his fingers inside her, grazing her g-spot and sending her over the edge.

Her eyes snap shut as she comes with a moan, a sound Santana muffles with her mouth, kissing Rachel hard, sucking a little at the tip of her tongue while she rides it out. The orgasm is fast and sharp, somehow, and the entire thing catches her by surprise.

Santana pushes herself up onto her knees beside Rachel's hip as Puck moves back up her body to tease at her lips, leaving her own wetness against them. "Fuck, you're hot when you come." Their hips are aligned so that when he kisses her again, she can feel how hard he is against her center, and part of her wishes that he'd just do it, push into her and fuck her hard and make her come again.

He moves off of her before she gets a chance to beg him to do just that. (Because she's already desperate enough to beg.) He leans towards Santana, who puts her hand on his chest and shakes her head. "I want to taste her for myself."

Rachel watches as he grins at Santana, smacking the girl's ass as she moves by, winking when she glances at him over her shoulder. Something coils in Rachel's stomach when he looks down at her; there's something almost predatory in his eyes, like he could devour her (again). "C'mere, baby," he says, sliding one hand under her back and putting the other on her arm to steady her as he pulls her up to her knees. He moves, shifting her body with his, until he's sitting back against the headboard and she's between his legs. He gathers her hair and pushes it all over one shoulder, then skims his lips over the skin he's exposed.

"You look so fucking sexy right now," Santana says. She's sitting on her knees, watching as Puck kisses along Rachel's neck and shoulders. "Both of you."

Rachel wants to say something, to tell her friend how she looks with her hair, wavy from being twisted up, spilling over her shoulders, skimming the tops of her breasts. She's lived with Santana for years and has obviously seen her naked, but this is different. Never before has she looked like this, looked at Rachel like this. She can't find the words though, not when Puck slides a hand down to the inside of her thigh, guiding her to open her legs wide.

"Show her," he murmurs against her ear, his fingers slipping up her thigh until they're just barely brushing over where she's wet, his teeth tugging at her earlobe. Her head drops back onto his shoulder, her legs falling open further.

Rachel looks down when Puck takes his hand away from her and sees Santana kneeling between her legs. She looks up to meet Rachel's eyes. "You have such a pretty pussy," she tells her quietly, her lips curved into a little smirk. "May I?"

Rachel lets out a whine, pushing her hips a bit closer to Santana's face. "Please."

Her eyes slip closed when Santana touches the tip of her tongue to Rachel's clit. "Hey, Rach?" She whines again, looking down at the Latina. "You look so fucking hot right now."

Rachel's eyes close again when Santana puts her mouth on her, her head falling back against Puck's shoulder, one hand clutching at his thigh when he slides his hands up her sides until he's cupping her breasts, kneading them gently. He's hard against the small of her back, his lips moving over her shoulder and up the side of her neck until they're against her ear. "She feel different than me?" The tip of his tongue traces the shell of her ear. "Her mouth on you?"

She whimpers when Santana thrums her tongue against Rachel's clit, slipping two fingers into her, pumping them slowly. "God, Santana." She pushes a hand into the girl's hair, tugging a little when Santana sucks Rachel's clit into her mouth.

Puck bites at the hinge of her jaw, soothes the spot with his tongue. "Tell me, baby." She turns her head a little so she can see him, his eyes focused on what's going on between her legs. "How's she different?"

God, he wants her to use words? The only words in her head are things like oh, god and yes and please.

She gasps when Puck pinches one of her nipples, tugging at it. "Faster," she manages. "She's faster." She closes her eyes when he hums against the back of her shoulder, trying to focus on what Santana is doing, trying to find words to describe it. "Delicate," she finally says, finding the right word in her head.

"Better than me?"

She cries out when he scrapes his teeth over her skin at the juncture of her neck and her shoulder because it's the same moment Santana curls her fingers. "Different," she whimpers.

They are different. She's considered the fact that they might be the same person before, because their similarities are sometimes overwhelming, but right now, Rachel is very aware of their differences. She'd think about it more, catalog some of those differences, but Puck curves his fingers around her jaw, turning her head so he can kiss her. His free hand slides down her stomach, his fingers just brushing the ticklish skin below her navel, making her muscles twitch.

Rachel's hips jerk when Santana's teeth graze her clit. "God!" she cries, tearing her mouth from Puck's. He flattens his hand low on her abdomen, holding her down, stilling her hips so Santana can repeat the motion. "Fuck. Santana."

"Are you close?" Puck asks, and all she can do is nod, a noise coming from the back of her throat when Santana twists her fingers. "Let go, baby." He sucks at her pulse point, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. "Fucking come."

She feels Santana's teeth again, the slightest pressure against Rachel's clit, and that's all it takes. She comes with Santana's name on her lips and her hands buried in the girl's hair until it feels like too much and Rachel tugs her upwards. She wants to kiss Santana, more than she's ever wanted to kiss her before. She doesn't understand why, completely, but she moans when she gets what she wants, Santana's tongue pushing the taste of herself into her mouth.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Rachel leans back into Puck's chest, turning a little in his arms to kiss him after Santana moves off her body. His fingers are digging into her hips as he kisses her, and she realizes that he's gotten basically no attention. Given that there are two women in his bed, she thinks that's pretty unfair. She pushes herself up onto her knees (even though they feel weak), kneeling between his legs. "Tell me what you want," she says, taking him in her hand and stroking him slowly.

He makes a low noise in the back of his throat, his hips jutting up into her hand. "I wanna fuck you so bad," he tells her lowly, his eyes dark and hot on hers. "Do you want that, baby? Want me to fuck you?"

God. "Yes, but-" She cuts herself off, because she realizes how selfish what she's about to say sounds.

"Rachel," Santana says softly, trailing her hand down her arm. "What do you want?"

Rachel swallows hard, keeps working Puck slowly with her hand. "I want you to fuck me," she tells him, looking him in the eye, "but I want to try...I want to go down on Santana."

His hips jerk as be bites out a curse, and he wraps his fingers around her wrist to pull her hand away from him. "What else do you want?" he asks.

Well, since he's asking, "I want to watch you." Her eyes dart over to meet Santana's. "Together." She's probably never going to be in a situation like this again, so she might as well at least try to get what she wants, everything she wants. And if she doesn't tell them what she wants, she certainly won't get it.

Before she realizes what's happening, Puck is sitting on his knees in front of her, his hands on her arms, holding her against the length of his body as he kisses the breath from her. "I knew you were hot," he says, lips skating up her jaw to her ear, "but goddamn, Rachel."

She moans his name, clutching at his shoulders, and she can see Santana lying back against the pillows, her legs open wide as she watches her best friends kiss. "I don't know what I'm doing," Rachel says quietly to Puck. "I've never..."

"'S'okay," he murmurs, kissing her gently, more gently than he's done anything tonight. "She'll tell you what to do. She gets off on being bossy."

"Somebody needs to fucking touch me," Santana interjects, her hips shifting impatiently as she pushes a hand into her hair.

Puck chuckles, raising his brow. "See?" His hand comes around to squeeze her ass, then he moves so he's next to Santana, kissing her and tugging hard on her nipple.

Rachel moves so she's on her knees between Santana's legs, contemplating what she's about to do. "I just want to try," she says quietly, and Santana stops kissing Puck to look up at her. "I might not be good."

Santana scoffs. "You're good at everything, you bitch." She shifts her hips impatiently as both Rachel and Puck laugh. "Do something."

Rachel has no idea what she's doing, so she falls back on her own experience as she leans towards the apex of Santana's thighs, trailing her hands up the inside of the girl's legs. The first touch of her tongue is tentative, a taste if you will. It's different, not the same as tasting herself on a man's tongue (or on Santana's, come to think of it), but she almost likes it. It's enough that she licks a slow line up the girl's center, circling her tongue around Santana's clit and making her moan. The girl buries her hand in Rachel's hair and groans her name, and that, at least, is a familiar reaction, even if the hands are smaller, the voice a higher pitch.

Rachel takes her time, experiments with her tongue and her lips, trying to teach herself what Santana likes. She glances up when she hears Puck groan, sees that Santana has him in her hand and is stroking him slowly as they kiss. It makes her moan a little, seeing them like that, and Santana hisses out a breath. "God, Rachel. So good." She pushes her hips up towards Rachel's face a little. "Lighter against my clit."

Rachel wonders, jaw beginning to ache as she feathers her tongue against the girl's clit, if the reason Santana's kisses are such a tease is because she likes being teased a little herself.

She can tell that Santana isn't close, not close enough, and Rachel has an all new appreciation for men who give good head, because she feels quite sure she can't make it happen, can't push Santana over the edge the way she wants to. She pulls back a little, using her thumb to stroke the latina lightly. "Puck." He lifts his head from where he's worshiping Santana's breasts with his mouth, moves down the bed a little so he's next to Rachel. "Help me," she says quietly. "I can't..."

"You want me to fuck her, baby?" He says it quietly, but Santana hears, moans loudly and looks down at the two of them. Rachel nods, shifting so he can take her place between Santana's legs. "You looked so hot, Rachel," he says, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and pulling her in for a kiss. "Fuck." He looks at her like he's never seen her before. "You taste like her."

She bites her lip, feeling her chest flush with something that might be embarrassment or arousal, then lies next to Santana, sliding her hand across the girl's stomach, kissing her when she leans in for it. "So good," she murmurs, sucking Rachel's bottom lip gently. "Fuck, Puck, do it."

Rachel looks down to where Puck has rolled a condom over his length - she has no idea where it came from - and is dragging it up and down Santana, smirking at the two girls laid out on his bed. He looks awfully proud of himself, but that probably makes sense, given the circumstances.

Rachel swallows Santana's moan when Puck pushes into her, muttering curses under his breath. She looks down to see that he's holding Santana's hips, sitting upright as he thrusts into her hard, then pulls out slowly. Her gaze falls to their hips, where his cock is wet, shiny, disappearing into Santana's body as the girl talks, practically babbling, telling Puck how good he feels, begging him to fuck her harder.

"C'mere," he says gruffly, eyes on Rachel's. She gets on her knees and moves towards him. "Kiss me," he orders, biting at her bottom lip when she does as he says.

"Rachel." Santana wraps her hand around the inside of Rachel's knee, tugs gently until the girl looks at her. "I want to taste you again," she says, her voice breaking a little each time Puck thrusts into her.

"Oh," Rachel gasps, letting Santana guide her to straddle her chest, pulling her hips back so her center is hovering over the girl's mouth. "Oh, god!" Rachel reaches for something to steady herself, ends up putting her hands on Puck's waist as Santana's tongue lashes her clit.

Puck must like what he sees. He snaps his hips against Santana's, which changes the way she feels against Rachel, who cries out and lets her nails bite into his skin a little. "Jesus fuck."

She finds that she can't really disagree with the sentiment, if only because she can't string together two words on her own. Santana's doing wicked things with her tongue between her thighs, slipping two fingers into her, and she can feel Puck's eyes on her as she watches him disappear into Santana's body over and over. The tension is building low in her abdomen, and she feels out of control. Normally, she would fight that feeling, would do something to assert her own dominance in the situation, but she doesn't want to.

She's completely at their mercy, and she likes it.

"Touch her," Puck says lowly. She looks up and sees that his eyes are a shade of green she's never seen them before. "She's close. Touch her. Make her come."

Santana lets out a whine when Rachel puts her hand low on the girl's stomach, grazing the pads of her fingers over the smooth skin, then circling the tip of her index finger around her clit. Rachel feels Santana's hum through her entire body when she slides two fingers on either side of her nerves. "Hurry," she breathes out, bringing her eyes up to look at Puck as she quickens the pace of her fingers. She makes a point to push them a little lower so he can feel them against his length as he moves. "Please, I need you."

"Yeah?" He snaps his hips forward hard, making Santana push her fingers deeper, and both girls cry out loudly.

It's too much and not enough at the same time, so Rachel moves to the side, off of Santana, watching Puck lift Santana's hips up higher and pound into her. The girl is covered in a sheen of sweat, her cheeks pink and her lips parted as she breathes hard. She's so hot right now that it's ridiculous, and it just gets better when she lets go with a scream, her hand coming out and grasping at Rachel's wrist as she rides out her orgasm.

"Fuck, Puck," she breathes out after a moment, reaching up to pull him down for a kiss. "Now her," she says, looking over at Rachel with a filthy grin on her lips.

Then Santana's kissing her, pushing her onto her back while Puck fumbles around for a new condom. There are slender fingers teasing between her thighs, even though she's so close to the edge that she doesn't need the help, until Puck is nudging Santana aside. He lies between Rachel's legs and presses his lips to hers, his hands gliding over the outside of her thighs, up her sides, over her shoulders and down her arms. He's hard against her center, he's kissing her breath away, and his hands are making her tingle all over.

She can't handle this. She's gotten more attention in all of this than either of them, has already come twice, but she's so desperate right now, and his weight, his hands on her... He's making her crazy.

"Please," she gasps into his mouth, shifting restlessly beneath him.

He nips at her lips, lets the pads of his fingers graze over her upper chest. "What, baby?"

"Do something," she whines. He chuckles against her neck, the vibration making her shudder as they go all through her.

"Don't be an asshole, Puck," Santana says, almost laughing at the look Rachel gives her. "Fuck her."

He's smirking when he puts his hand on the inside of one of her thighs, pushing her open wide, and they groan together when he sinks into her slowly, pausing when their hips are pressed tightly together.

"God, you feel good," she gasps, rolling her hips. He's thick, filling her just right, but it's still not enough. "Move. Please."

He kisses her when he does as she asks, sliding out slowly before sinking back in. It's agonizing. She wants him to fuck her, hard and fast, and make her come. This feels like teasing, and she's much too far out of her head for that right now. She bites down on his lip, making him hiss her name. "Fuck me," she pleads. "Please, I can't-"

He cuts her off when he rolls them, both of them groaning when he sinks deeper inside her. (It's okay; she doesn't know what she was going to say, and this is better.) "Fuck me," he growls, gripping her hips so hard it almost hurts.

Rachel puts her hands flat on his stomach to steady herself, lifts up before sinking back down slowly and rolling her hips, and she just sees his head drop back before she has to close her eyes. She circles her hips, experimenting to find what feels the best, chasing the orgasm that's so close.

Her eyes fly open when a mouth closes over her nipple, and she's surprised, absurdly, to see that it's Santana. She buries her hand in the girl's hair, keeping her close, and rolls her hips harder, grinding herself into Puck.

"San," Puck grunts. The girl uses her teeth on Rachel's nipple, making her cry out. "C'mere." He threads his fingers through her hair, brushing against Rachel's, and tugs the girl so he can kiss her. "Touch yourself," he says against her lips, making Rachel moan and swivel her hips.

This is all just so hot she can barely stand it.

Santana sits back on her knees beside them, dropping her hand between her thighs, whimpering when Puck reaches over to twist her nipple.

"Puck." He snaps his hips upwards when Rachel says his name, his eyes raking over her body as she moves over him. "Touch me."

He smirks, his free hand gliding up her thigh and across her lower stomach. "You gonna come on my cock, baby?"

"Yes." Santana moans beside her, obviously already close to her own orgasm, when Puck rubs his thumb against Rachel's clit. "Yes!"

He swipes his thumb over her once, twice, and a third time, and then she's coming hard, letting go with a shout that is either his name or fuck. She feels lightheaded and hot all over, sees red behind her eyelids when she feels Puck swelling inside her and following her over the edge. Her lower half is still moving, very slowly, as she comes back to herself, but she stills when she hears Santana cry out, looks over in time to see the girl throw her head back as she comes. She has one hand between her thighs and the other cupping her breast, her body covered in a sheen of sweat. It's insanely sexy.

She's completely breathless when he slides his hand up her body to wrap around the back of her neck, tugging her down for a kiss. "Jesus," he mutters against her lips, his hands sliding up and down her back. "That was the hottest shit ever." He rolls to the side, pulling out carefully and smirking at the little whine she lets out when he leaves her empty.

"Stay," Puck orders, climbing out of bed.

Rachel turns to Santana when he leaves the room, pushes the sweaty hair off the girl's forehead. "That was nuts."

"You okay?" Santana asks, narrowing her eyes when Rachel nods. "Seriously, Rach. You're okay?"

"I'm better than okay," Rachel tells her honestly. She just had what was easily one of the top five orgasms of her life; she's great right now, even if that was rather intense. She leans forward to kiss Santana gently. "You?"

Santana gets a filthy little grin on her lips. "That was hot as fuck. I'm great."

Puck walks back into the room carrying a bottle of water, obviously not worried about the fact that he's completely naked. "You two can make out more," he says conversationally, sitting beside Rachel and leaning back against the headboard. "'S'hot."

Santana rolls her eyes, leaning across Rachel to take the water from him. "Shut up."

He shoots her a wink, then looks down at Rachel. "You good?" he asks, sliding his hand up her stomach.

She nods, arching her back a little to stretch. She realizes that she doesn't feel drunk any more, hasn't really since she came inside. It doesn't make a lot of sense, unless Santana's right and it's possible to be fucked sober. All she feels now is tired. "That was...amazing," she says honestly, glancing between Puck and Santana.

Puck smiles, a genuine smile that almost seems out of place given what's hapened tonight. "Yeah, it was," he says. His tone is just lascivious enough to make up for the way he's looking at her. He puts his hand on her hip, tugs until she's lying on her side facing him to he can kiss her gently.

Santana leans down for a blanket, tugs it over all three of their bodies before she turns on her side behind Rachel, presses her chest against her back. "Can we sleep?"

Rachel doesn't say anything. She's halfway there already, Santana's hand grazing the back of her thigh and Puck stroking his fingers up and down her side. She opens her eyes when Puck lets out a little hum, watching him blink at her slowly, his lips curved upwards. "G'night," he murmurs just after her eyes slip closed.