Chapter Nineteen: Kissing Rachel Berry

Rachel Berry's lips were heaven. Seriously. They were soft and plump and felt like fucking pillows that I just wanted to dive-bomb into and roll around in. She lifted a hand to my cheek as I pressed our lips together. She gasped into my mouth and let out a soft whimper of surprise that I felt spill straight into my heart, not to mention the way it practically erupted in my lady parts. I could have died inside that one, simple kiss, which absolutely blew my mind. I had kissed so many people that I couldn't even give you a number, maybe a rough estimate, but I'd never once felt this way, not even with Brittany.

Brittany's kisses had always made me feel warm and tingly and comfortable, but Rachel's kisses? Rachel's kisses made me feel weightless, like I was floating or flying. Every single inch of my body erupted in tingles that prickled deliciously in the base of my spine and on my fingertips as I slipped my hand over Rachel's hip to her lower back and carefully pulled her body closer to mine. I expected her to pull back, to stop the kiss, but Rachel completely and wonderfully surprised me.

She didn't pull back and she made no attempts to stop. Instead, she only pushed further against me. Our bodies were flush as she wrapped the hand she'd had on my cheek around the back of my neck and urged me forward. She kissed me softly but eagerly, gently but demanding…her kisses were the perfect balance of everything, and they made those damn moths in my stomach evolve into fucking birds and crash into every corner of my insides. God, I could do this forever.

It's crazy the things that will go through your mind even when you're wrapped up in a moment. Like though my head was fuzzy from the overwhelming sensation of finally getting something I'd wanted for a while now, my thoughts were still a wild, chaotic mess in my mind. They fired off rapidly as I pressed my lips to Rachel's over and over, reveling in the feel of her perfect mouth on mine and the soft, sexy sounds emanating from her throat as we kissed.

Why didn't I do this sooner? Why didn't I do this in high school? Oh yeah, because I was too busy being a closeted, repressed asshole, AND because Rachel wore unicorn sweaters. Oh my god, I'm so fucking happy I moved to New York. Oh my god, I'm so fucking happy that I moved into RACHEL'S loft in New York. Fuck, her lips are soft. I wonder what they'd feel like in other places. Oh god, stop it Santana before you wet yourself. Too late. Jesus Christ, I just want to touch her. I want to touch her everywhere. I want to kiss her everywhere. Oh fuck, her fingers are in my hair. Wait, did I just feel tongue?! Where in the hell did she learn to kiss like this, because I knoooows that she did not gain this kind of skill from Finn Hudson, or from Puck for that matter, because both of those idiots kissed like they thought your face was food and they had been starved their whole lives. Gross. But Rachel…wow. She is incredible, and she hasn't even opened her mouth yet! Maybe it's the singing thing. Great with her mouth in every capacity. Shit, there I go again, flooding myself. God, I could do this forever. I freaking love Rachel Barbra Berry! I love her. I love her. I do. I SO do. I mean, I don't even care who knows. I just love her.

Yup, that was pretty much how my mind took to the kissing-Rachel-Berry experience. But then I felt Rachel's tongue slowly swipe across my bottom lip as if asking for entry, and my brain just fucking short-circuited, melted, and then oozed right out of my ears. Chaotic thoughts weren't a problem after that, because the only thing that I could process, the only thing that I knew was Rachel's tongue and how it might actually want to like…be inside my mouth.

I cautiously, because I wasn't positive that I was reading the signals correctly, opened my mouth just a bit as she pressed her lips to mine again, and sure enough, Rachel's tongue slipped skillfully through my lips and into my mouth. I couldn't hold back the moan that rumbled in my chest and ripped up my throat. It vibrated against Rachel's tongue as she slid it along mine and explored my mouth, and an echoing moan escaped her in answer.

I tilted my head upward so that I could get a better angle, and Rachel took advantage of the new angle before I even had a chance. She practically dove into my mouth, her tongue darting in and out rhythmically, which was entirely too reminiscent of another similar action (performed in a much lower region of the body) for me to be able to avoid moaning again. As soon as she did that, my freaking lady loins vibrated so hard that I was surprised the sensation wasn't accompanied by a loud buzzing sound, like a damn iPhone on a kitchen table. Rachel's kisses were just doing things to my body that I could hardly process, let alone contain. I did my best, though, because I knew that kissing was the only thing that was going to happen between us for a long time, and I was honestly still shocked that we were kissing at all. I certainly wasn't going to push for more. I respected Rachel way too much for that.

But then Rachel slid her hands down my sides before latching onto my hips and jerking me toward her. She pulled me over and on top of her, and for only a second, I let her, before the haze cleared from my mind and I instantly jumped back. I broke our heated kiss and lifted my body weight up and off of her so that I was hovering just above her, braced by my knees as well as my hands now planted on either side of Rachel's head. She looked up at me with those big, wide, and endlessly beautiful chocolate eyes, which made my chest clench tightly, and when she smiled softly at me, every part of me just flooded with love and with arousal.

I clamped my eyes tightly shut and took several deep breaths to calm my body's reaction and bite back my serious need to have Rachel Berry right then and there, before I slowly slid back to the side and rolled onto my back in the place where I had only just lain. I let out a heavy sigh and shakily said, "Rachel, no. We can't. I can't."

"Oh," I heard her say softly, her voice ripe with sorrow, which immediately got my attention.

I turned quickly onto my side to face her, but she was staring in the opposite direction, looking at the wall. I gently reached over and turned her face back to me and saw that tears had built in her gorgeous eyes and were already beginning their slow treks down her cheeks. "Hey," I whispered. "Rachel, please don't cry."

She tried to manage a smile through her tears, but it only made her cry harder. Her eyes were wide and I couldn't understand how she had grown so upset so quickly, but then she said, "It's okay, Santana. I understand. I didn't think you could actually ever want me anyway."

And it all hit me. It was like she'd said before; since her attack, she felt ugly and dirty and as such, she probably assumed herself undesirable, and I instantly felt like shit. That wasn't at all why I'd stopped, but being the dumbass that I often am, I hadn't even thought about explaining or how to word myself. I was too caught up in trying to calm myself down. Fuck.

"What? Rachel, no," I said quickly, terrified that I had accidentally pushed her away or back into the dark place or something. "That isn't why I stopped at all. I want you, okay? I definitely want you. Trust me."

She attempted another sad smile as she quietly cried and said, "Please don't. I know you think I'm fragile and I know that you care about me, but please, I would rather you not lie to me. I can handle the truth, Santana."

My panic was building at this point. I should've known it wouldn't be easy. I couldn't handle that sorrow in her eyes, that disappointment and self-loathing. It broke every part of me. It was painful beyond words or measure.

"Rachel, I swear to you that I am not lying," I told her, trying to enunciate every word so that she would know I was serious, but Rachel wasn't just upset. She was more insecure in the last month than she had ever been in her entire life, and she just couldn't hear my sincerity. She couldn't believe that I, or anyone, would ever want her again. She turned her head to face the wall again and I saw the way she shook her head subtly as if to deny my claim. It broke my fucking heart all over again.

So, I did something that surprised even me, but I was desperate. I needed her to understand that she was desirable. She was more than desirable to me. She was the only thing I ever thought about and the only person that I wanted, and fuck did I want her. I wanted her so badly that it was driving me mental. "You don't believe me?" I challenged. "What if I can prove it?"

She turned to look at me then, her cheeks still wet and eyes still wide and tearful, and her brows furrowed in confusion. "How?" she asked me, her voice scratchy from crying.

I swallowed thickly then, because well…what the hell had I just gotten myself into? But whatever, because I seriously wasn't about to back down. Rachel needed this. She needed to know that she wasn't ugly or dirty or anything less than perfect. She needed to know that what I felt for her was real, so I bit my lip and mumbled out, "Well…uh, it might gross you out, but it's the only way I know how to prove it."

She only looked further confused at that, so I just rolled my eyes and quickly ran my right hand under the covers, under the waistband of my pants and panties, and slid my index and middle fingers through my thoroughly soaked sex. The sheer magnitude of my arousal was shocking, though I wasn't sure why, considering that I had been fully aware of the way my body had felt on the verge of exploding while I was making out with Rachel. But to actually feel the evidence…whoa. And yeah, I couldn't help but moan a bit as I touched myself. It just sort of happened against my will, and as a result, I could practically feel my cheeks turning crimson with my embarrassment.

I pulled my hand out of my sweatpants and brought it out from under the covers. Out of embarrassment, I wanted to avoid eye contact with Rachel, but at the same time I really wanted to see her reaction. I wanted to make sure that she fully understood that I wanted her, more than words were ever going to let me say. "See?" I said as I held my two glistening fingers up for her to see.

I watched as she took in the sight of the arousal coating my fingers, her eyes widening and her lips parting just slightly. She swallowed audibly before she whispered, "Wow."

"Uh, yeah, wow," I teased, nudging her with my free hand and laughing softly. "Don't brag about it or anything, geez."

"No one has ever turned me on that much, and especially not from just kissing," I told her honestly.

She turned to me then, wiped her cheeks clean of tears, and then playfully arched a brow. "No one?" she questioned.

"Well, unless you count Shakira," I answered, "but hey, her hips don't lie. What are ya gonna do, right?"

Rachel burst into laughter then and I felt it everywhere. It blasted into me, rippled across my flesh, and sank straight to my soul. She smiled brightly at me and I just couldn't help myself. I leaned in and gently pressed my lips to hers before saying, "Please don't ever doubt how much I want you, Rachel. As you can see, it's a lot, and it has been for a long time."

I then climbed quickly out of the bed and darted to the bathroom. I washed my hands so that I wasn't just sitting there with my own damn lady juices all over my fingers while attempting to have a serious and heartfelt discussion with the girl I loved. That would just be awkward, and I definitely wasn't about to wipe it all over the blankets, because that would be even more awkward…not to mention gross.

As soon as I was done, I crawled back into bed with Rachel and before she could even say anything, I leaned forward and playfully planted about a dozen little pecking kisses all over her face. I just wanted to hear her laugh again. With the sorrow that constantly decorated our lives over the last month, every little ounce of joy was like pure bliss. And Rachel's laugh? Hell, it had become like a drug for me. I craved it all the time.

She giggled adorably as I kissed all over her face and then I planted one final kiss on her lips, to which she responded eagerly. When I pulled back, she smiled brightly at me again and said, "By the way, Santana, I didn't think it was gross."

"No?" I asked, a little surprised. I was pretty sure that Rachel had never been with a chick before; then again, she might be one of those girls that masturbates constantly. Oh hell, stop it, Santana. Seriously. Stop it.

"No, quite the opposite," she answered, and I literally groaned. I couldn't help myself. I tossed the cover over my head and groaned again even as I heard Rachel burst into laughter once more. She pulled the blanket off of my head and smiled at me before her face grew serious again and she asked, "So, why did you stop?"

I sighed as I fell heavily back into the mattress, and I was thrilled when Rachel instantly curled into my side and rested her head on my chest, almost as if it were an instinct. I kissed the top of her head and explained. "I just think it's too soon in too many ways," I told her as I ran my hands up and down her back and arms. "You still have pain from your ribs and the stab wounds, and that's just the physical part of it. I mean…Rachel, you were attacked…sexually. I just want you to be really ready before you have sex again. I don't want you to do just because you want to feel good or because you want to take your mind of what happened or because you feel safe enough with me to try, even though I love that you do feel safe with me. I just want you to feel ready and to really, actually want to do it. It's only been a little over three weeks. I just don't think you're there yet, Rachel. Do you?"

Rachel was silent for a long time after that, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the material of my shirt as her head lay against my chest. I hated bringing up the attack, but I didn't know how else to explain why we couldn't have sex. I didn't…ugh. I hate emotional shit! I'm so bad at it.

"No," she finally whispered after a long while. She then turned her head inward and pressed a kiss to my chest before saying, "Thank you for being so wonderful, Santana."

"All day, every day," I said with a laugh as I grabbed her hand and laced our fingers together. And then against my better judgment, because I was feeling stupidly lovey and vulnerable, I let my own insecurities show. "Besides, we don't even really know what this is or what we are yet. I mean…maybe when you are finally ready to have sex again, you won't actually want it to be with me. Maybe you just want me now because I'm the only person you've really been around for a while and because I…saved your life or whatever."

She lifted up just enough so that she could lock eyes with me then, and I had to choke back my own tears because suddenly all of my deepest fears were swirling in my gut and making me terrified to even breathe. What if I woke up and realized that this whole fucking day had been a dream? I felt sick with my own anxiety, and I hated it.

Rachel stared into me as if she was searching for my soul and asked, "Do you have feelings for me, Santana? I know you care about me and obviously, given your earlier display, you find me attractive, but do you have true feelings for me? Romantic feelings?"

I didn't even hesitate to blurt out, "Yes."

She smiled softly at me then and said, "I have feelings for you as well."

"How big?" I asked her, and she furrowed her brows at me and let out a soft chuckle.

"What do you mean 'how big'?" she asked.

"I mean, how big are your feelings?" I clarified and she laughed softly at me again, which was a beautiful sound but I nearly had to grit my teeth, because I was being beyond serious. I was fucking terrified that I was the only one with giant, massive, world-sized feelings, and here she was laughing all cute-like and shit, while I was having an internal panic attack. Go figure.

"Quite large," she finally said, grinning at me as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the tip of my chin. "How big are yours?"

"So big it's stupid," I told her, and then realizing what I'd said, we both burst into laughter.

"That big, huh?" she teased, and I just nodded my head before capturing her lips with my own again, and I couldn't help but have another of those whoa moments of realization. Kissing Rachel Berry…yup, me, Santana Lopez, kissing Rachel Berry. It was absolutely nuts when you considered our history, but at the same time, nothing in my entire life had ever felt more right, and it was in that moment that I knew I would always want to kiss her. I would always want to be with her, because Rachel was my home.

And then the shrill tone of Rachel's phone ringing sounded through the room and burst right through the precious little moment we were having. Even though I'd found her phone in the alley that night and it was well intact, Rachel didn't want it. It reminded her of the attack somehow, and though I never said anything, I was grateful that Rachel's dads had gotten her a new phone, because the old one reminded me of the attack as well. It rang the second night that we were home from the hospital when Quinn called to check in with Rachel, and as soon as "Don't Rain On My Parade" echoed through the room, I instantly flashed back to that night and terror just exploded through my chest. It flooded through me like a tidal wave and I had to run out of the room and barricade myself in the bathroom, panicked and panting and having a freaking meltdown. So, yeah…I was glad that they'd gotten her a new one, one that didn't look anything like the last, and thankfully Rachel had a different ringtone now—just a standard ring. I was sure she'd change it at some point, but it seemed that, as of now, she didn't really care enough to mess with it.

Rachel tilted up to press another kiss to my lips as she grinned at me before reaching for her phone. She didn't even look at the screen before she pressed the answer button and put it up to her ear. "Rachel Berry's phone," she chimed as she rested her chin on my chest and locked gazes with me, "Rachel Berry speaking."

I rolled my eyes at the way she answered her phone, but at the same time, I couldn't help but laugh and find it ridiculously adorable because well…it was just so Rachel. But then my laughter instantly died in my throat as Rachel's head jerked up off of my chest and her eyes went wide. Fear instantly pooled in my gut, but before I could say or ask anything, Rachel's eyelids fluttered and those chocolate pools rolled back in her head. Her phone slipped from her grip and fell into my chest as Rachel fainted, her body limply falling just to the side of mine.

I fucking panicked. I scrambled to get out from under the part of Rachel's body that was covering mine so that I could tend to her or fucking call an ambulance or something, because I had no damn clue what was going on. As I moved, Rachel's phone slipped up and fell beside my ear and that's when I realized that her call was still connected.

"Miss Berry?" I heard a familiar voice asking. "Rachel, are you alright? Are you still there?"

I grabbed the phone and quickly put it to my ear as I realized why I recognized the voice. "Detective?" I asked shakily. "It's Santana."

"Oh, Santana, hello," the detective said, sounding somewhat relieved. "Is Rachel alright?"

"She fainted," I said, fear ripping through my insides and making me panic. "What the hell did you say to her?"

And the words that she said next completely and utterly shook my world. "I told her that she needs to come in for a line-up," the detective said. "We got him, Santana."