Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters.
Summary: Brittany and Rachel work at a community theater and they form a relationship after an interesting mishap at a racetrack.
Author's Note: This is AU, probably a little OOC, but I'm having fun writing it.
Spoilers: It's a cookbook.
"Hey, so there's this super awesome thing on Sunday, do you wanna go with me?"
"Um, what kind of thing?"
"A Motocross thing, it's gonna be great."
"Oh, like a competition?"
"Yeah, like a competition."
"Well, then, I suppose so, yes, I think that sounds like an interesting experience."
"Okay," Brittany grabbed Rachel's hand and scribbled down the address across her palm before skipping off down the hall.
Rachel looked at the cute scribble on her hand, the few I's in the address were dotted with tiny hearts, and the Y's and J's had loopy tails.
She shook her head in mild bewilderment.
Rachel had been interning at a community theater for a month or two before Summer vacation started, but her superiors made the decision to transfer her to larger, more frequented space. She was an actor, singer, dancer, and performer in general, but she felt her Musical Theater degree would be lacking if she had no idea how any of the backstage workings operated. After all, if the techies weren't there, there couldn't possibly be a show, could there?
Brittany was actually working there as a dance instructor for children's ballet on weekdays and adult ballroom dancing, swing, and hip hop on the weekends. She'd told Rachel it had been her Summer job since she'd moved to New York.
She'd immediately taken a liking to Rachel, and would invite the brunette for coffee, or lunch whenever they were both free. Brittany was nice, and funny, in a sometimes unintentional sort of way. She never mentioned a boyfriend, but Rachel figured she must be taken with an adorable personality and a body like that. I mean, come on. The girl was a total stunner.
This was he first time Rachel would be meeting Brittany somewhere farther away than a few blocks from the theater. The address was quite a few miles out of the city. Why would she want Rachel to go to a Motocross event, though? Maybe she wanted someone to cheer on her boyfriend with her? Because that's why Rachel figured Brittany wanted her there. No matter. Rachel had never been, and the experience sounded like it could be fun.
On Sunday, Rachel dressed in a pair of jeans, a simple dark red v-neck shirt, her faux leather jacket, and a pair of short boots her costume director let her keep from a past show. She drove the forty minutes it took to get to this motocross event, and realized as she was getting out of her car onto the dirt parking lot that she didn't have Brittany's phone number. This meeting might have been slightly poorly planned.
She walked up to the ticket booth – the term is used very lightly, as it was just a makeshift table consisting of a beat up lawn chair and a cardboard box.
Apparently it wasn't a very high-class event.
"Name," A gruff-looking woman with a shaved head save for a small, hot pink tuft where her bangs would start glanced at Rachel before staring at a list. When Rachel didn't respond, the woman looked up and gave her a rather charming smile. "C'mon, sweetheart, I just need it so I know where to send you."
"I just don't think I'm on your sheet, is all. I'm supposed to be meeting a friend," At the mention of Rachel meeting someone, the woman's smile faded.
"Lemme just check anyway, hon. Last name?"
The woman flipped to the first page and immediately crossed out a name.
"Berry comma Rachel. Cute," the woman smirked. "You're up in The Hills."
She hummed. "Best spot on the property. It's the only place where you can see the entire track."
"Oh, alright," Brittany must be waiting for her there, if she was on a list. "How do I get there?"
"Take a left and follow the signs, sweetheart," the woman winked and Rachel thanked her before going where she was instructed.
She made it to The Hills where there were a few haphazardly placed metal folding chairs and coolers that were being ignored by the fifteen or so other people milling about. She didn't see Brittany among them. Rachel was about to ask one of the less scary looking people about her blonde friend when the engine of a fast approaching bike caught her attention. She turned towards the sound and was alarmed to see the rider was coming right at her. She became paralyzed as he didn't slow down, and she couldn't even close her eyes while he just got closer and closer. At the last second he twisted the body of the bike and braked, hard, sending dirt and tiny rocks flying against her boots.
Infuriated at such a juvenile stunt, she marched the two feet to the rider and smacked the unpadded part of his arm.
"Are you out of your mind? You think it's funny trying to scare people like that? Who do you race for?"
Rachel's onslaught of angry questions was not meant to be hilarious in any way, but it must have been to the rider, because he was laughing so hard he was holding his sides. The sound was muffled because of his helmet. She was about to smack him again when he gently caught her wrist and set the kickstand of his bike before getting off. He took his white and red helmet and goggles off and Rachel gasped.
She was still laughing. "I'm so sorry, oh my god, your reaction was so awesome!" she leaned down and pulled Rachel into a tight hug, lifting the brunette off of the ground for a few seconds before setting her back down and smiling brightly at her.
"I don't- I thought you were- what are you doing with a bike?" Rachel asked after she had gotten over the traumatic experience of being nearly killed.
"I'm entered in the race, silly. Why do you think you've got the best seat in the house?"
"I don't know, I thought you wanted me with you to cheer on your boyfriend, or something."
Brittany laughed at that. "Oh, jeez, Rach," Brittany chuckled and Rachel smiled softy at the nickname. "I haven't had a boyfriend since I was seventeen."
"The race starts in about ten minutes, so I should get down to the starting gate," Brittany was about to put her helmet back on when Rachel put a hand on her arm.
Brittany smiled and leaned down again, but this time she kissed Rachel on the cheek.
"Only 'cause I know you'll be mad if I'm not," the blonde smirked and threw her helmet on before Rachel could react. Then she was on her matching red and black and white bike and back down the wide path.
Rachel walked to the edge of the hill where a barrier was put in place to keep onlookers from falling. The view of the track was completely uninhibited. She could even see Brittany's bike, number twenty-one, as she lined up at the starting gate. The various other people seemed less interested in the race and more interested in their conversations. Some people were in suits, other people dressed more casually.
She watched as the woman who had been checking the list walked out onto the middle of the dirt track in front of the racers. There were about fifty bikes, all in a line. Soon, she gave a signal and every motorcycle erupted in a rolling growling sound as the riders revved their engines. The woman threw her hands into the air for a few seconds, and when she dropped into a crouching position, the racers were off. The brunette was momentarily concerned for the starter's safety; it looked like she was going to get hit by several bikes. They all avoided her, though, and Rachel was back to keeping her eyes on red, black, and white.
The first jump wasn't too bad, but the second? Rachel gasped as Brittany flew high in the air and lifted her legs out to extend them behind her. The brunette thought something had gone horribly wrong, and put a hand went to chest, expecting the worst. She was surprised, then, when Brittany didn't crash at all, but successfully repositioned herself and landed beautifully back on the ground. Rachel gasped again when the mass came up to a sharp turn and many of the riders were intentionally attempting to knock each other off the bikes. Fortunately, Brittany was ahead of the main pack, behind two riders and in front of five. Didn't motocross races have strict rules about being violent on the track? Rachel had absolutely no idea, but she thought at least some decorum would be enforced.
A blonde, fluffy-haired young man in a plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves and low-hanging jeans walked up next to her and followed her eyes to the group up in front.
"Who have you placed bets for?" he was young. Around fifteen or sixteen, Rachel suspected. His question confused her.
"Bets?" She glanced at him once before returning her attention to Brittany, who pulled another death-defying stunt only to land perfectly unscathed.
"Yeah, you know, for the race? This is the second Bowl I've been to."
"I guess this is your first. Bowl Race. You know, because they're illegally racing at the Bowl? No officials, everyone's betting, it's a 2G buy in to actually race?"
"What?" Rachel's shocked voice caused the kid to throw his hands up, as if at gunpoint. Meanwhile, Rachel was even more concerned with Brittany's safety. She was also a little irked; Brittany invited her to an illegal event without informing her.
"Who are you here with?" he looked around, possibly looking for Rachel's companion.
Distractedly, Rachel said, "Number 21."
"Pierce? Wow. My brother's had this dorky crush on her for years, but she won't bite. I keep telling him she swings the other way, but he just doesn't want to give up."
"How many laps do they do?" Rachel ignored his comment. Somehow in a manner of hours Brittany went from the really nice girl she had coffee with to the really nice girl she had coffee with and was apparently single and probably not straight and was most likely actually flirting a LOT during those times at the Coffee Java.
"Usually I think it's four, but they're doing five for this race. They're actually in the fifth, right now."
Rachel's heart rate hadn't really slowed down since Brittany charged her with the bike, and it certainly wasn't slowing, now. She watched as the head of the pack curved around the last bends. Brittany was neck and neck with someone in second place, and Rachel felt a huge rush of relief when Brittany not only landed the last jump and crossed the finish line, but she landed ahead of the other racer, placing second. He was close behind her, though, and Brittany (nor Rachel) was not expecting him to kick at her bike as he zoomed past her.
Brittany lost control and her bike fell to the ground, skidding a good thirty feet before it stopped. Brittany had the good sense of mind to jump ship beforehand, so she ended up rolling and landing in a heap next to her two-wheeled vehicle. Rachel's stomach dropped and she ran down the path to where a few people had gathered around Brittany's crash side, in hopes of seeing the carnage. It took about a minute for Rachel finally get there, but when she did she muscled her way through the gawkers and she let out a sound that resembled a cry of relief and a sob.
Brittany was sitting up with her legs extended in front of her, examining her helmet, which apparently had cracks in it from the fall. Rachel threw herself at the blonde, knocking the helmet to the ground. Brittany, surprised by the sudden woman in her arms, almost fell back into the dirt, but caught herself and held onto Rachel tighter.
"I haven't been that scared in a long time," Rachel mumbled into Brittany's neck.
"I'm okay, Rach," when Brittany heard the woman sniffle, she pulled back to see tears staining Rachel's face. "Oh, Rachel," Brittany awkwardly maneuvered herself and stood up, bringing Rachel with her. The crowd had dispersed and Brittany could hear them cheering on the guy who won first.
The brunette immediately wrapped her arms tightly around Brittany's waist, while Brittany slid her left arm around Rachel's shoulder, and held the smaller woman's head to her chest. The blonde felt Rachel's chest shaking with silent tears, and whispered comforting words as she stroked silky brown hair. They stood like that, Rachel clinging to Brittany, and Brittany holding Rachel, until the brunette calmed down. When Rachel pulled away, Brittany yanked off a glove and wiped at the drying tears on Rachel's face.
"Are you okay?" Rachel still felt like she was going to breakdown again if she thought too hard about what had happened.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm going to have a few gnarly bruises, and I might be sore for a bit, but other than that, I'm okay."
"I don't understand why that racer did that. He placed third, didn't he?"
"Yeah, but thirders only get a measly medal," Brittany smirked at her triumph. "First and second get cash prizes."
"Oh," Suddenly, Rachel remembered something. She smacked Brittany's padded shoulder, making the blonde jump. "Brittany Pierce, you deliberately invited me to an illegal sporting event without even informing me!"
"Of course I didn't tell you!" Brittany reached out and brushed Rachel's hair behind her ear. "If I had told you it wasn't legal, you never would have come, and I really wanted you too."
"Yeah," Brittany gave Rachel a small smile and as her hand fell away from the brunette's hair, her fingertips grazed the back of Rachel's hand. "Now come with me so I can collect my eleven thousand dollars."
Rachel's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "Eleven thousand!"
"Well, the prize money for second is ten, and I had won $500 dollars on another smaller race, and I bet that on myself for second, so that adds up to eleven thousand."
Rachel was still speechless.
Brittany picked up her bike and inspected the damage. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, but a portion of the money she won would go into repairs. As they walked, Brittany decided to implement the second part of her plan.
"So, can I use some of my prize money to go to the grocery store with you so I can make you dinner at my place, tonight?"
Rachel was visibly shocked at the invitation. "I-" Rachel stopped walking, so Brittany did, too. Rachel thought about what this was implying. Not only was Brittany asking her on a date, she was asking to make Rachel dinner at her home. That's a very intimate setting. "That sounds lovely."
Brittany beamed, and Rachel smiled at her excitement. Brittany got her prize money in a small stack of one hundred and ten hundreds, and Rachel watched as the blonde got her bike into the bed of her pick up truck. Brittany peeled off her riding jacket and padding gear and tossed that in the bed as well, before quickly shucking on a dark grey hoodie.
"So will you follow me to my apartment?"
Brittany opened the door and Rachel immediately noticed pictures of a strikingly beautiful woman in frames all over the apartment. In some, the gorgeous, tan brunette was alone, in others she was laughing with Brittany, and in more still she was with Brittany and another blonde.
Brittany took of her boots and noticed Rachel looking at a picture in a bookshelf in the living room.
"Her name's Santana, and the blonde is Quinn. Santana's my ex girlfriend, and she and Quinn have been and still are my best friends since junior high school."
Rachel now saw a frame on the lower shelf of Brittany and Santana sharing a smiling kiss.
"Where are they, now?"
"Hold that thought, kay? I need a shower," Brittany bounced off towards what Rachel suspected was the bedroom. She stood around awkwardly for a moment, not sure what to do with herself, when Brittany's head popped around the corner. "Well, come on!"
Confused, Rachel stood there for a minute. Did she mean…? Curiosity got the best of her. When she walked into the bedroom, Brittany was moving a beanbag chair just to the right of the bathroom door with the higher part of the chair at the wall.
"So we can still talk," Brittany said by way of explanation. She took Rachel by the shoulders and planted her in the low seat. She then walked into the bathroom and Rachel turned so she could still see but she quickly turned back when Brittany beginning to pull the riding pants from her legs.
"So," Brittany spoke and Rachel heard water being turned on. "Q's in LA working her way up the food chain in Hollywood, directing small movies when she can, and getting work on sets as a production assistant, or a runner, or whatever she can, hoping to meet the right people so she can get an in with someone."
The steady stream of water was muffled by something, and Rachel couldn't help but imagine the hot water streaming down Brittany's flawless body.
"And what about Santana?" she had to speak a little louder so Brittany would be able to hear.
"San lives in Brooklyn," there was a pause for a few minutes and all Rachel could hear was the water. "She went to school to be a lawyer, and she has her degree, and everything, but she ended up really hating it," Another pause. "So now she's really into the art scene, like, photography and poetry and shit. It's awesome because I still see her at least once a week. I haven't seen Quinn in months."
The water had stopped, Brittany was out of the shower, and she walked back into the bedroom with a towel around her body and one wrapped around her head. Rachel's eyes found a fascinating shadow on the ceiling. Brittany went into a walk in closet, and Rachel released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. There were a few minutes of silence, and Brittany reemerged in a pair of tight jeans, dark purple suede pumps, and a loose, white peasant top.
"Let me just dry this a bit, and then the store's just two blocks away," she gestured to her hair with open hands, and then walked back into the bathroom.
Rachel stood and wandered back into the living room. She glanced at the rug in front of the 55 inch TV and did a double take. It wasn't a rug at all; it was a Dance Dance Revolution mat. Rachel smiled at this, imagining how the game probably wasn't challenging at all for her blonde friend.
She looked at the DVDs in the shelves of the entertainment system. She found dance movie after dance movie in between regular blockbusters. Again, she smiled. It was like her own movie collection, except Rachel was hoarding musicals.
"Are you ready?" Brittany had slipped on a dark grey, soft blazer, and she'd left the buttons undone. She looked good.
Rachel nodded, and followed Brittany out the door. The brunette was lost in her thoughts when Brittany interrupted them.
"Have you always been this quiet?" Her voice was soft, obviously not wanting to disturb whatever Rachel was thinking about. She was thinking about Brittany.
"No," Rachel turned and smiled at the tall woman. "I was ridiculed in high school for being the loud-mouth girl with the plaid skirts and animal sweaters who would just never shut up about her precious Glee Club."
They walked into the supermarket and Brittany got a cart.
"Oh man, I'm getting the most adorable mental image right now," Brittany giggled, and Rachel blushed. "I bet you were the cutest thing."
"And I bet you were just as intimidating as you are now," Rachel said.
Rachel just smirked and quickened her step down the aisle. Brittany broke out into a wide smile.
"Is Rachel Berry flirting?"
Rachel looked at Brittany amusedly from over her shoulder. The blonde had stopped in the middle of the baking needs aisle, genuinely shocked and entertained by this glimpse at a different side of her shorter friend. Brittany chuckled once, and then continued walking down the aisle.
She walked through the store collecting what she needed. Rachel mostly stayed silent, except for an occasional "how will that be used?" or "will you tell me what you're making?" from Rachel. Brittany kept quiet, though. She wanted the meal to kept a surprise.
Rachel helped carry one of the bags as they walked back to Brittany's apartment. "You'll at least let me help you prepare, won't you? If only to wash something, or to chop?"
Brittany hummed in agreement as they entered the stairwell. "You can help me wash dishes when we're done."
"Really, Rach," Brittany fumbled with her keys for a minute before she opened the door to the stairwell into the building hallway, and they walked to the end where she opened her own front door. "There isn't much to do except add the ingredients and then eat when it's ready."
"What should I do when you're cooking, then?" Rachel followed Brittany down the hall into the kitchen and placed the grocery bag on the counter.
"You could watch a movie? I can hear the TV from in here, so it'll kind of be like we're watching together," Brittany began setting things up, pulling pot and pans from hooks dangling from the ceiling, slipping a duck pattern apron on, and organizing her ingredients along the counter top.
Rachel smiled. "Okay."
She walked back out of the kitchen to the right, where the TV was. She looked back through the DVDs, looking more thoroughly, this time. Rachel was impressed the movies were organized in alphabetical order. She got to the Ts and something caught her eye: The Troubletones.
She pulled the DVD from the shelf and examined the cover. It was just a black background with "Troubletones" hand written in silver sharpie. Curious, Rachel popped open the case and with a few false starts, she was able to get the DVD player and TV working. A simple menu popped up with a black background and grey text. It read "Troubletones" across the top, and several dates listed below it. Rachel clicked the first one, and sat back on the floor to watch.
After a few seconds of darkness, the apartment was soon filled with the sound of five young women singing Christina Aguilera's Candyman, and Rachel was absolutely captivated by what she saw on the screen. There was Brittany, on a stage, in a powder blue flight attendant uniform and captain's hat. There were five girls including Brittany, and Rachel recognized Quinn and Santana from the picture in the apartment. Santana was in the middle with Quinn on her right and Brittany on her left. The two other girls were on the very outside of the line. The number ended and Rachel hastily clicked the pause button before hurrying back into the kitchen, where Brittany was smiling. She had obviously heard what Rachel had watched.
"Why didn't you tell me you were in a high school glee club?" She leaned back onto the counter and watched as Brittany stirred things in a hot pan over the stove.
"Why didn't you ever ask?" She checked under the lid of a pot on another burner and smiled when a rush of steam escaped. "Dinner's almost ready."
When Brittany tilted her head to the table just outside the kitchen, Rachel realized the blonde must have set it when she'd been gawking at the television. She blushed a little bit when she saw the unlit candle between the dinner plates, but went and took a seat, anyway. Brittany came out of the kitchen holding two glasses of red wine and she set them on the table before grabbing both of their plates and walking quickly back to the stove. Suddenly there was gentle guitar music flowing through the apartment. The sound system must be in the kitchen.
Brittany reemerged with the plated meal in her strong hands. She'd taken off the apron, and smiled as she sat on then other side of the corner of the table where Rachel was. She took a deep breath and scanned the table.
"Have I missed anything?" Her eye caught sight of the candle. "Oh!" She jogged back into the kitchen and came back with a dark purple Bic. She lit the wick, and adjusted the dimmer switch on the wall. "And voila, we have ambiance."
Rachel smiled at Brittany's antics. She was being more than a little adorable.
"Before we officially get started, I just wanted to make sure something was clear."
"This is a date."
"I think I figured that out."
"Just because those coffees and lunches weren't ever official dates."
"But this one is."
"Well, now that that's sorted, this looks so delicious. What's in it?" She examined the beautiful dish; she almost didn't want to eat it, it was so pretty. Almost.
"It's angel hair pasta with a tomato and artichoke heart sauce, with garlic, bay leaf, capers, and a touch of oregano."
"It smells heavenly."
Brittany sipped her wine as she watched Rachel twirl the pasta onto her fork. She nearly choked when the brunette actually moaned in delight as she tasted the food.
"Oh my god," Rachel tilted her head back and her eyes rolled back in her head as the flavors of the pasta and sauce rolled over her tongue.
Brittany sat there, slack-jawed and staring as Rachel continued to have audible responses to the food. She began eating, herself, but she could have been consuming play dough, for all she knew. She was completely focused on Rachel and her reactions, which, let's be honest. The sounds Rachel was making were causing her to soak through her panties. Brittany wondered if the brunette would want dessert...
"That was unbelievable," Rachel placed her fork and knife on the empty plate.
"Salad!" Brittany smacked herself on the forehead with her palm.
"I forgot to make the salad," Brittany pouted.
"It's okay, the meal was perfect without it," Rachel stood and took Brittany's empty plate before the blonde could protest. She went to the sink and began rinsing the dishes before sticking them into the washer.
Brittany walked in as Rachel was putting a pan in the lower rack of the dishwasher, and grabbed the pasta pot before Rachel was able to.
"You made just enough for the two of us," Rachel observed. The pasta pot (and the sauce pan) had nothing left in it.
"I did," Brittany wet a paper towel and wiped it across the counter top, cleaning up her mess. Rachel put the pot in the dishwasher and closed it.
Brittany gently took Rachel's damp hands and held them under the tap. She turned on the water so it was warm and squeezed a dime-sized dot of hand soap into her own palm. She began soaping up Rachel's hands, which were now warm from the water, along with her own. She made sure to clean every finger, and to gently rub her thumb across each knuckle. When she was done, she turned the water off and pulled a small hand towel from her back pocket. She dried Rachel's hand with just as much care, and she kissed the brunette's soft palms when she was finished. When she finally looked at Rachel's eyes her pupils were dilated, and the woman's chest was visibly heaving.
"No one has ever done that, before," her voice was noticeably deeper, and possibly raspier than it had been earlier in the evening.
"Washed your hands?"
"They're not the only things I'd like to kiss."
In a bold voice Rachel had forgotten she had, she said, "Show me."
Brittany smiled at her and cupped her cheek. She brushed her thumb across a soft, plump lip, and leaned in just an inch away. "I've wanted to kiss you since I first heard you singing on the stage that day after you thought everyone had left."
Rachel made a small whining noise in the back of her throat. Brittany moved forward and Rachel parted her lips in anticipation, but at the last second, Brittany dipped her head and attached her lips to Rachel's neck. The brunette's knees buckled, slightly, and her hands went to Brittany's strong shoulders as the blonde held Rachel up by her waist. Brittany leaned back and admired the purple hickey she'd left.
"Oh, god," Rachel found her balance and looked into sparkling blue eyes. "You're marking me already? We haven't even properly kissed, yet."
"I thought you might want dessert before things get heavy," Brittany gave Rachel's waist a squeeze and smirked at her raised eyebrows.
"Heavy?" Rachel put on her best innocent voice. "Heavy how?" She wasn't really expecting a response. Maybe she just thought Brittany would smirk before leading her into the bedroom, which, by the way, she would totally not object to that happening.
She definitely wasn't expecting Brittany to lean down so the blonde could whisper in her ear to whisper, "Heavy like my mouth and fingers between your thighs, teasing you until your breaking point and then making you come so suddenly, so hard, that you don't even realize how loud you're screaming."
"Jesus," Rachel breathed. She felt her knees might just completely give out, this time, so she reached down to support herself by holding onto Brittany's waist. Her sordid thoughts were broken when Brittany cried out when Rachel grabbed her. Rachel looked up to see Brittany's face contorted in pain. The brunette's demeanor immediately snapped from extremely turned on to caring, concerned friend. She removed her hands and Brittany gingerly placed her palm on her side.
Rachel pushed the blonde's hand away and pulled up the peasant top by the hem, lifting it to just below the swell of her breasts. "Oh my god," Rachel's other hand hovered over one of the large, dark purple bruises on Brittany's ribs. Brittany's eyes were still closed in pain. Rachel frowned and her brow furrowed. The bruise on Brittany's ribs was at least the side of her hand. Rachel abhorred violence (usually), but she wouldn't mind giving the guy who did this to Brittany a piece of her mind, and fists.
"Go to your bed and strip down to your underwear." At Rachel's command, Brittany's eyes shot open.
"Don't get excited," Rachel dropped the shirt and it fell back down Brittany's stomach. She looked up to the blonde and reached up to cup her cheek. "I'm in protective friend mode, right now, and I'm going to treat your injuries. Do not argue with me. Go."
Brittany smiled softy at Rachel's calm yet authoritative tone, and did as she was told. She went into her room and took off everything but her bra, changed her boy shorts (thank you, Rachel), and then turned to the large mirror on her closet door to assess the damage for herself. She chuckled a little in disbelief. "Shit," she looked like she was wearing an army print body suit, except instead of shades of green, it was shades of blue and purple over pale skin.
She got her phone and took a picture of herself before sending it in a text. Seconds later, she was still admiring how absolutely gnarly she looked when her phone began playing Amy Winehouse's Valerie. She slid her finger across the screen and held the device up to her ear. Before she could say anything, Santana's voice was coming through the receiver.
"Fucking shit, B!"
Brittany laughed at her friend's reaction. "I know, right? I placed second and the ass hat who didn't kicked me over just after I finished."
"Goddam, if I'd been there I'd have fucking kicked his ass so fucking hard. You okay? Need me to come over?" Santana's voice sounded a little louder than usual, which probably meant one hand was covered in paint while the other worked a brush across a large canvas as she held the phone between her face and shoulder.
"No," Brittany heard cupboards shutting and drawers being pulled open in the kitchen. Rachel was probably looking for things to help her bruises. "Rachel's here."
"Yeah, it's awesome, but these bruises totally cock blocked me," Brittany pouted even though she knew Santana couldn't see it.
"Hey, you know you'll get some."
She could hear Santana's smile in her voice.
"Go find her and hand her the phone and then go back to your room."
"Kay," One of the things about the two of them knowing each other for so long? Complete and utter trust.
She walked and found Rachel rummaging around in the freezer. There were some hand towels, a glass of water, and a bottle of Tylenol on the counter. When Rachel spotted the blonde, she couldn't help the deep blush that started at her chest and rose to the tips of her ears. Even covered in bruises, Brittany was gorgeous.
"Here," Brittany handed Rachel the phone and, like Santana had told her, walked back into her bedroom.
Rachel was momentarily captivated by Brittany's ass clad only in red boy shorts, but then looked down to the screen of the phone, and realized someone was on the other line.
"Hello?" She continued her search for an ice pack, or maybe some peas. Brittany really should clean out her freezer; what could one person possibly do with that many Otter Pops?
"Ice packs are in the mini fridge B has in her bedroom on the left side of her bed. Once you get her fixed up, give her a green Otter Pop, and season one of True Blood is under the left most couch cushion." The woman's voice was soft, and yet raspy. She gave out the instructions like she'd done them herself many times before. The only thing that didn't make sense was the last part.
"Why-?" She was cut off before she could finish.
"That DVD shelf gets direct sunlight from the windows, and B doesn't want the vamps getting toasted." Again, it sounded like she'd given that explanation many times before. Rachel smiled.
"True Blood?" Rachel asked, a little incredulous at Brittany's television choice.
"She likes Anna Paquin. Can you blame her?"
"You're Santana, aren't you?" She closed the freezer, remembering to go back for Brittany's frozen treat once she'd tended to the blonde.
"The one and only," Santana shifted the phone on her shoulder, causing a little bit of static on both ends.
"Thank you," Rachel began gathering her supplies, deciding she'd have to go back for the glass of water.
"No problem," She shifted the phone again. "I know you and B get Sundays off, so next weekend we're all going for drinks."
Rachel smiled. "Alright."
"Right, I'm going to let you go. Don't forget the Otter Pop."
Santana hung up and Rachel ended the call on Brittany's phone. She walked into the bedroom and Brittany was sitting patiently on the edge of her bed.
She walked to the other side of the bed where, sure enough, she found a mini fridge with a small freezer compartment that was full of around seven blue ice packs. She took out four and added them to the towels and Tylenol in her arms. "Come on."
Brittany obediently followed Rachel to the living area and started to lie down on the couch.
"Uh uh," Rachel had placed her supplies on the floor and handed Brittany the glass of water from the kitchen counter and two little red pills. "Drink those first, and all the water."
She sat next to the couch while Brittany took the pain meds and only shuddered a little bit when Brittany licked her lips after finishing the glass.
"Now can I?"
Brittany stretched out across the couch, her feet propped up on the arm rest. She curiously craned her neck when Rachel suddenly disappeared, but soon smiled when the brunette returned with three pillows from her bed.
"Sit up, a bit," Brittany did, and Rachel slipped two of the pillows behind her shoulders so she wasn't flat on her back.
Once Brittany was settled, Rachel allowed her eyes to roam over her purpled body, sometimes lightly running over her fingers over the discolored skin. Rachel took her attention back to something else Santana had told her. She shoved her hand under the cushion Brittany's shoulders and upper body were on with a little difficulty because of the blonde's weight, but she smiled in triumph when her fingers found what they were looking for. She quickly switched out the Troubletones disc and replaced it with disc one of True Blood. She then grabbed the remote and sat back down on the floor next to Brittany.
"I'm going to start with the ice packs now, alright?"
Brittany nodded, and hissed slightly when the first pack was placed on her stomach.
"Sorry," Rachel whispered. She wrapped the second in one of the towels and laid it on Brittany's hip, receiving a similar sound, but this time it was because her fingers grazed the fabric of Brittany's boy shorts.
"Lift your hips," Rachel had the third towel-wrapped ice pack, and when Brittany complied, she slipped it to the small of the woman's back, eliciting a sound of discomfort from her.
With the fourth pack, Rachel just kept the towel on it for thirty seconds before gently holding it to the smaller bruises around Brittany's clavicle, and on her arms. She only hesitated when she needed to tend to the bruises on Brittany's incredible legs. Brittany was relaxing into Rachel's touch, the barely there pressure of the cool cloth on her arms was soothing, and the cold of the ice packs was helping her bruises. When Rachel stopped, she pulled her eyes away from the opening theme of True Blood and followed the woman's gaze to her legs.
Her knees looked like they got the worst of it, but her thighs and shins definitely had had better days. Her knees were slightly swollen, and she sighed under a flinch when Rachel placed the ice packs from her stomach and hip on her sore joints. Rachel tentatively held the cold towel over a fist-sized bruise on the top of Brittany's thigh, an inch below the fabric of her boy shorts. She bit her lip and let her eyes wander to the crotch of Brittany's red underwear.
Brittany had stopped watching the television screen when Bill walked into Merlott's. Watching Rachel's internal struggle was much more entertaining. And arousing. Rachel was standing up on her knees with the towel in her hand, biting her lip. Brittany reached out with her hands and lightly caressed the woman's jaw and ran her thumb across her cheek. Rachel turned to Brittany and expelled a deep breath through her nose. Brittany's hand snaked back further and her fingers got lost in dark, silky hair. She pulled, lightly, and Rachel took the hint.
Brittany guided Rachel's mouth to just in front of hers. Rachel wasn't going to have any teasing, again, so she surged forward and moaned softly against Brittany's lips. It was quick, and sweet, and not nearly enough. Brittany pulled at Rachel's shoulder, attempting to get the girl on top of her.
"Wait, wait," Rachel braced herself against the back of the couch and resisted just sitting on Brittany's hips in order to kiss her harder. "I don't want to hurt you."
Brittany shook her head. Rachel was way too far away all she wanted was to feel their bodies together and to explore the brunette's mouth, and tongue. "You won't."
Rachel raised her eyebrows and used her hand to put slight pressure on the bruise on Brittany's hip that she had been icing before. The blonde gasped in pain and her hand fisted Rachel's hair.
"Yes, I will," Rachel put the fourth ice pack on the bruise she'd distressed.
Brittany whined, and pouted, and pulled in Rachel by the hair for another, longer kiss. Rachel sighed against her, and Brittany really wanted the smaller woman on top of her. Thinking it might entice the brunette to change her mind (she could totally deal with the pain), she pushed her tongue past Rachel's lips, and her hips spasmed when Rachel lightly nipped at the muscle with her teeth.
"Rachel," please, is what she wanted to say, but begging wasn't her style. Not when she was trying to top from the bottom, anyway. "Get up here."
Rachel sucked at Brittany's bottom lip and released it with a pop. "No."
"Fine," Brittany swung her legs off of the couch, dislodging all of her ice packs, and stood up. "Come on," she walked off to her bedroom without waiting for Rachel to follow her. The brunette was, of course, right behind her, but Brittany didn't need to see that to know it.
"Get on the bed," Brittany said, and she smirked when Rachel obeyed.
She waited for Rachel to get situated and then crawled up the bed to hover over her, a hand on either side of the brunette's head.
"I'm going to make you come, now," Brittany said, very matter of fact.
Rachel could only fist the sheets as Brittany rubbed her face down the brunette's clothed body.
"These need to come off for what I want to do," Brittany mumbled as brushed her nose against the button of Rachel's pants. She unbuttoned them and pulled the jeans and panties from Rachel's legs before she could protest.
The air was ripped from Rachel's lungs as her back bowed and her hips jerked at the sensation of Brittany's entire mouth overwhelming her. Brittany gave long, broad licks against Rachel's soft, sweet flesh. She wrapped her arms around the brunette's thighs to hold her down; the woman was writhing like nothing else.
"Brittany, oh god!"
The blonde felt Rachel's hands tugging at her hair, and she smirked into the woman's pussy. She licked up the length one more time before wrapping her lips around her clit and sucking while she easily slid two fingers into Rachel's heat. She gave a kitten lick to Rachel's clit and then moved up her torso, pushing her tongue into the woman's open mouth.
Brittany rocked her body forward as she thrust into Rachel, knocking the headboard of the bed against the wall. "Come on, Rachel," Brittany panted into Rachel's ear as the brunette's walls began tightening around her fingers. "Let me hear you sing."
Brittany moved into her once, twice, three more times, and Rachel sang. She sang loud, shocked at the intensity of the orgasm coursing through her. Her toes curled, and she clung to Brittany's head; the only place she knew to have been unharmed by her fall.
Rachel, gasping, curled and uncurled her fingers into the damp hair at the nape of Brittany's neck. The blonde's head was resting on Rachel's shoulder, and she closed her eyes as she listened to the sounds of Rachel's deliciously labored breathing. She pulled her fingers from the smaller woman and wasted no time in bringing the slick digits into her mouth, cleaning them.
"Oh my god," Rachel groaned at the display, and pulled Brittany's head down for a lazy kiss, whining into the blonde's mouth as she tasted herself again. "Mmm," Rachel closed her eyes and her head fell back against the pillow. Brittany chuckled, pleased with herself. There was something she needed to take care of, though…
"Rach," Brittany dismounted the woman before sliding off her second pair of ruined boy shorts of the night. She swung her leg back over the brunette, and Rachel's eyes shot open when she felt Brittany's wetness against her stomach.
"Oh," Rachel's brain was barely functioning as unconsciousness threatened to take over, but she knew this was good.
"You don't need to- just keep your leg up," Brittany positioned herself over Rachel's left thigh and settled down. She sighed as she began moving, and sought out connection.
Brittany knew Rachel was still hesitant about touching her because of all of her bruises, but Rachel's hands were limp above her head. Brittany laced their fingers together on the pillow as she worked herself against Rachel's taut leg, her breathing getting heavier by the second. The blonde's movements quickened and she squeezed Rachel's hands as the burning in her stomach became tighter. She hadn't expected to be so close, already. This really wouldn't take very long at all.
Rachel squeezed back and nuzzled at Brittany's cheek, searching for her mouth. Brittany took the hint and connected their lips, yelping into the woman's mouth as Rachel bit her tongue.
Her orgasm took both of them by surprise.
Brittany grunted, and whined, and her short nails made little half-moon marks as they dug into the backs of Rachel's hands. Her body tensed, and shuddered, and she collapsed, sighing, on top of Rachel.