Title: Substantial Evidence to the Contrary
Pairing: Quinn Fabray/Rachel Berry
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.
Summary: Quinn corners Rachel in a bathroom stall and asks her to do a very important favor.
A/N: Quinn's innocence when it comes to sex and sexuality never fails to amuse me. This was born from that. This doesn't really have a timeline but my mind was very beginning of season 1 oriented when I wrote it.
She was utterly perplexed. This could not have been happening. Things like this didn't happen. At least not to her. Noah Puckerman, maybe. But certainly not her. She was trying as hard as she could to wrap her mind around the situation unfolding before her but she couldn't. It was so beyond her.
"Are you even listening to me, Berry?"
Rachel shook away her stupor. "I'm sorry, what?"
Quinn colored slightly because she had to repeat herself yet again and it was already embarrassing the first two times. "I asked you—"
"Whatever. Just do it."
"Why do you want me to do it?"
She bared her teeth in anger. "I don't have to explain myself to you. Just get on your knees and do it."
Rachel crossed her arms defiantly. "Considering you want me to get on my knees so I can look at your vagina because you're too afraid to do it yourself—"
"You know what? Forget it."
Quinn turned to unlock the stall they both occupied before Rachel reached out to grip her bicep. She jerked away and whirled around to face her. "What?"
Rachel bit her lip in contemplation. "I'll do it," she finally whispered. How could she not? The prettiest, most popular girl in school had asked her to basically poke and prod at her vagina a little while in between classes because she was too afraid to do it herself.
In the words of Puck, you'd have to be gay to turn something like this down. And Rachel certainly wasn't gay. Although what she was doing as she slunk down to her knees was pretty gay. But…whatever. Things didn't need to make sense right now.
It was mesmerizing. So much smooth, creamy skin and toned muscles. Rachel didn't really know what to do with it all. Her hands touched the backs of Quinn's thighs and slid up, only to have Quinn bat her hands away adamantly. "What are you, gay?"
"No!" she yelped. "Not that there's anything wrong with being gay because as you know I have two gay da—"
"Just shut up and stop touching me!"
Rachel sighed loudly, her hands retreating. She flipped up Quinn's red skirt with a little attitude. It was met with a challenging blonde eyebrow lift that made her stomach churn in anticipation. The bright red triangle of spanks met her when she looked back down. It was intriguing, really. She had never seen a vagina from this angle, head on. "Why do I have to do this again?" she murmured as her thumbs hooked into Quinn's spanks to pull them down. She watched as pale thighs clenched together in anxiety. She looked back up at Quinn.
"Because," she huffed. "I need to know what it looks like."
"Then why don't you just look at it?" Rachel asked, logically.
"I'm not supposed to! In fact in celibacy club they tell you to do the exact opposite. You won't get curious to do other things if you pretend things down there don't exist."
Rachel's mouth dropped open in horror. Who was teaching Quinn these things? "So, the reason you want to know what it looks like now is because…"
Rachel trailed off. Her gaze dipped back down to white, cotton panties. Quinn made a sound of disapproval, crossing her legs awkwardly in the confined space of the bathroom stall. "Because Santana will tell everyone I don't know what it looks like."
Now they were getting somewhere. Rachel rocked back to rest on the balls of her feet. "Why would she do that?"
Quinn flushed scarlet and looked down at the floor. Rachel waited patiently as she fidgeted with her fingers, unable to say whatever was on the tip of her tongue. The floor was really hard, Rachel noted. She pushed back and up until she was squatting then grabbed the edge of the toilet bowl—really, this was all unnecessarily unsanitary. Hoisting herself up, she sat on the toilet lid, looking back up at Quinn again. "It was cold down there and the floor is hard," she explained.
Quinn leaned back against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. Having Rachel peering up at her crotch wasn't exactly ideal. Though having her face to face with it wasn't much better.
"Apparently touching yourself…down there is the 'cool new thing,'" she said, supplying air quotes. "Santana said she and Brittany do it all the time. The rest of the cheerleaders do it, too. So, Santana asked me if I did and I said yeah."
"But you don't," Rachel pointed out easily enough.
"It's perfectly normal."
"Yeah, for a deviant."
"I am not a deviant!"
Quinn frowned. "You do that, too?"
Rachel blushed. "Well, as I said, it's perfectly normal for people our age to participate in the act of masturb—"
"That's enough," Quinn said tersely, cheeks darkening again. "Anyway, Santana didn't believe me when I said I did it and asked me what it felt like. I told her I wasn't going to describe it to her because it's gross and then she asked me to at least describe what I—" she cleared her throat. "What I felt like down there. So, now I have to do that or she'll tell the whole school I don't touch myself."
"And that's bad because…?" Rachel asked, genuinely confused.
Quinn unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips. "Hello? I'm popular. I can't have people thinking I'm not cool just because I don't do…that. They'll think I'm not experienced."
"But you aren't."
She glared down at her. "That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?"
A lone vein pulsed violently in Quinn's neck. Rachel was really working her last nerve purposefully, it seemed. "The point," she growled, "is that you need to quickly look for me and tell me what you see."
The question why me? was on the tip of Rachel's tongue but she bit her lip. Quinn really looked like she was going to strangle her if she uttered another word. Instead she motioned for Quinn to come closer. Reluctantly, she did. Rachel tucked her thumbs into her panties, took a deep breath, asked Barbra for strength and pulled them down slowly. They made it past Quinn's knees before sliding down to the floor. Rachel's gaze rose up her thighs until resting between her legs. Her mind instantly went blank.
Quinn…Quinn was bald.
"Barbra, give me strength," she whispered quietly. She looked up at Quinn's flushed face. "You wax." It wasn't a question.
"It's a requirement during cheering season."
"You get waxed," she reiterated. "And not once have you looked at yourself?"
Quinn shook her head solemnly. And for the first time, Rachel actually felt sorry for her. How could anyone be so deprived of their own body? "You should take the time to look at yourself, Quinn," she said softly. "You're a very pretty girl; you shouldn't hide from yourself."
Quinn heaved a quiet breath, averting her gaze to a nearby wall. Rachel pursed her lips together as she fell to her knees before her once more. "Thank you," she heard Quinn whisper.
Once on her knees, she looked in front of her. Quinn was completely hairless and Rachel wondered if she was as soft as she felt. She gripped her thighs gently. Quinn shivered. "I—you're going to have to spread your legs."
Quinn kicked her left leg outwards, exposing herself. Rachel's mouth fell open as her gaze washed over Quinn's bare pussy. She swallowed thickly.
"What does it look like?" Quinn asked hesitantly from above her.
Good. That was the only thing that came to Rachel's mind. Then another slew of obscene words that would have probably had Quinn running for hills. Still, Quinn wanted a more detailed answer and trusted her to give one. "It looks smooth. Really, really smooth," she told her. "And pink. You take care of yourself well."
"What would it feel like?"
The universe was testing her, it seemed like. This wasn't even something she knew she wanted. But now that she had it in front on her, it wasn't exactly something to turn away from. "I wouldn't know, Quinn. I've never felt you before."
"What do you feel like when you do…this?"
Her fingers twitched at her sides and something clenched tightly low in her belly. "I feel soft. Warm." She bit her lip and contemplated using the next adjective. "And wet."
Quinn looked down at her then. "And that's how girls are supposed to feel when they're horny, right? Wet?"
Rachel almost laughed because what adolescent—male or female—doesn't know what a girl is supposed to feel like when she's horny? "Yes, girls should be wet when they masturbate."
Quinn hummed quietly. Rachel continued to look on with rapt attention. It shocked her how engrossed in this she was. And she wasn't like Quinn. She knew arousal and recognized all the signs. And for herself, all the signs were making themselves known. She pulled back. "Well, if that was all you needed, I really should be getting on my way."
"Can you—" Quinn licked her lips nervously. "Would you…touch it? I need to know."
"Are you sure?" Rachel asked. Her voice was beginning to drop in octave and it was starting to freak her out.
"Just do it before I lose my nerve."
Rachel nodded, not trusting herself to speak again. She leaned forward until she was close again. One hand gripped the back of Quinn's thigh and she surprisingly didn't flinch away. The other hand crept up the inside of her thigh, gathering courage. Rachel's fingers brushed along her folds and Quinn shivered. It was a feather light touch that she hadn't been expecting. She rubbed her back and forth softly. "What does it feel like?"
"So warm," Rachel breathed. "You're really soft, Quinn."
She continued to rub through the length of her. Slickness began to coat her fingers and Rachel became lightheaded. "And wet."
"I'm wet?" Quinn asked.
Rachel made an affirming sound, pulling back to show her glistening fingers to Quinn. Quinn stiffened at the sight. "Sorry," she muttered, biting her lip.
"There's nothing to apologize for. Arousal is a normal physiological response."
"I'm not aroused. You're a girl; you can't do that to me."
Rachel's eyes widened slightly but she didn't bother to argue. Instead she reached between Quinn's thighs again and rubbed her a little more firmly. Quinn hissed out a breath through her nose as her mouth clenched shut. Rachel thought she heard her swear. Her hips canted forward the barest hint as Rachel rubbed circles around her clit. "It's okay to be voca—"
She shook her head in obvious disapproval. What type of person denies themselves pleasure? It was obvious to her at this point that Quinn's body was enjoying her touch even if her mind refused to. Her clit engorged and hardened, peeking out of its hood. Rachel drew closer, having the sudden desire to take it into her mouth. Her fingers dipped lower to the source of all the wetness. Her middle finger circled Quinn's entrance slowly.
Quinn's head tossed back, thudding against the stall door. She panted mutely into the thick air surrounding them. There wasn't enough air to go around. Her chest heaved as her stomach tightened. "What are you doing to me?"
She sounded more like she was in awe than anything else.
"Do you want me to stop?"
Even as Rachel asked, her finger dared to wiggle inside the barest hint before retreating. Quinn's head shook minutely as her inner walls instantly clamped down, trying to pull at something and failing. She whimpered quietly. Her body slackened against the wall. Rachel reached back up to rub her clit in faster circles and she was pulled taut with tension once more.
Rachel took her bottom lip between her teeth. This needed to be over before she crossed a line. She was already having thoughts of going down on Quinn right then and there, which wasn't a good sign. But she couldn't. She wasn't exactly gay and even more important; Quinn came to her for a purpose, not to be taken advantage of. She gasped quietly when a tightly balled fist landed on her shoulder. Quinn applied force as if to push her away but the way her body was silently writhing against the stall door told Rachel differently.
Rachel looked up at her, licked her lips. "Do you not like eye contact during?"
Quinn breathed in harshly through her nose. Her jaw was clenched shut so tightly her teeth were starting to hurt. She peered down at Rachel with hooded eyes. "During what?" She really wished Rachel would stop talking. There was a fire flaring up in her and she wasn't sure what it was but it felt good. She was desperately chasing it and was having a harder time stringing words together because of it.
Rachel nearly moaned at how low and husky her voice sounded. "Sex."
"I don't have sex," she mumbled. She whined quietly at the feel of her nipples hardening and rubbing harshly against her sports bra.
"Then what are you having now?"
Quinn didn't answer. She couldn't answer when her throat was dry and her lungs were empty of air. Rachel smiled a little at the almost pained and confused look on Quinn's face. Her head dropped and she rested her forehead against Quinn's thigh. She turned her head to the side and opened her eyes. Quinn's glistening sex was right in front of her. Her eyes clenched shut as she rubbed harder. "You never answered me."
"Stop talking, Berry," she gritted through her teeth. Her hips thrust forward continuously against Rachel's hand. She could feel small puffs of air against her heated flesh as Rachel breathed on her. It was maddening. It startled her completely when she was assaulted with images of Rachel going down and her and where the fuck were these thoughts coming from?
She wanted to push Rachel away. She really, really did because good girls didn't do this. Not when they were supposed to be virgins, not in a bathroom stall, and not with another girl but something…something was happening and it made her feel good and warm and wet and so perfect.
Rachel's thumb swiped against her sensitive clit once more and that fire engulfed her completely. Her jaw slackened as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into her. Her eyes crossed and closed up as her body seized. The clenched fist unraveled to grip Rachel's shoulder tightly, crescent moons being made as her fingernails dug into her shoulder. Rachel winced, but watched intently. Heat flared between her thighs, making her own arousal apparent. She rubbed Quinn a little more softly as she came down from her climax.
Quinn slumped against the stall door, panting. Rachel pulled her hand back. She looked at her glistening fingers with a proud smile. She wiped them on her skirt then pulled Quinn's panties and spanks up for her.
Quinn flinched away to the nearest corner of the stall. "What was that?"
Rachel smoothed down her own skirt that had gotten rumpled from being on the floor. "That was an orgasm."
"I didn't ask for that."
"You didn't tell me to stop, either. In fact, you enjoyed it."
"I did not," she growled.
Rachel took a step towards the door. She was a little frustrated from what had just transpired and that frustration was quickly bleeding into irritation. "There is nothing wrong with engaging in acts of sex."
Quinn blanched. "But I didn't—we didn't—"
She sighed loudly. "Honestly, Quinn, you can call it whatever you want. You asked me to do you a favor and I did."
She unlatched the door, hoping to get as far away from the walking sexual frustration that Quinn Fabray was so she could handle her own. A soft hand landed on her arm as she opened the stall. Rachel turned as Quinn leaned against the door to close it. She stepped closer, her sneakered foot bumping into Mary Jane's.
Quinn looked down at their shoes, unable to meet dark brown eyes when she had on a pair of soiled white panties that were sticking to her in all the wrong places. "I—thank you. You didn't have to do…that. But you did, so…"
Rachel smiled. A smile that was more like a grimace because less than five minutes ago she had the tip of her finger in Quinn and this was surprisingly more or less going at the top of her list of sexual fantasies for a while. "You're quite welcome, Quinn."
The bell rang and the ghost of a smile on Quinn's face was replaced by horror. Rachel gently pried the hand on her arm away. "I won't tell anyone about this," she prefaced. "And I'll go out first."
Quinn's heart hammered against her chest. Her head bobbed up and down as Rachel opened the door once again.
"Have a good day, Quinn."
"You, too," she croaked out.
She closed the stall door again after Rachel walked out and slumped against the toilet seat when the bathroom door opened and closed. She rested her head in her hands, trying not to cry. She was still wet and horny because Rachel Berry had been touching her.
And she wasn't sure what that meant.
Celibacy club didn't cover this.