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It was a quarter past five when Rachel finally made it to the Fabrays, late, because her laptop, bedazzled and beautiful as it was, finally decided to breathe its last right when she was uploading her latest MySpace video. She spent the entire walk to Quinn’s house muttering about gigabytes and RAM and microphones, grateful that her dad Rob was the computer genius of the family and was willing to help her pick out a new one. Still it’d be at least another day or two, and she was already plotting out the best usage of her time in order to get to the library to complete her assignments. If she’d had her computer she could’ve made a PowerPoint, but… well, lesson learned for next time.
Always foresee unexpected computer events.
She knocked once, twice on the Fabrays’ front door; it was her signal and she felt fine to open the door and make her way into the living room where she saw Judy sitting on the couch and filling out job applications. Rachel smiled.
“How’s it going?” Ever since Russell Fabray walked out on his family and then Quinn moved back in her mother’s house after Beth’s birth and subsequent adoption, Judy had done her best to prove herself the mother her daughter needed. She’d been going to weekly AA meetings for a month, and after Russell left enough money for Frannie to finish her college education and Quinn to start on hers, Judy felt it was time for her to get a job.
Judy returned the smile. “Well I’m not exactly sure what my qualifications are, other than ‘former trophy wife,’ but I’m sure I’ll find something.”
“I’m sure you will too.”
Her relationship with Judy, as the girlfriend of her daughter, was still a little awkward, even after a few months and several strange dinners where Judy gave Rachel gifts of batteries and certificates to local sex shops. But she was trying, Quinn would say, even as her cheeks would turn red with embarrassment, and Rachel couldn’t help but adore them both.
“Quinn’s in the garage,” Judy said, turning back to her papers and not seeing the confused look on Rachel’s face.
“The garage?” the small girl repeated.
“Mm,” Judy hummed, tipping her chin towards the door leading to the Fabray garage.
Rachel pursed her lips and shrugged, making her way to the door and pausing only to rest her backpack on the floor before going in search of her blonde girlfriend.
She found her, as Judy said, in the garage, but Rachel stopped just inside the doorway, because the girl standing next to the motorcycle looked nothing like the Quinn Fabray that she had been dating for the past few months. Instead of her body perfectly filling out a red Cheerios uniform, with her hair pulled smartly into a stiff ponytail, this Quinn was relaxed in jeans and a tank top with a leather jacket, her hair free and flowing over her shoulders. Rachel’s girlfriend was studying the motorcycle, and though Rachel didn’t know much about “that specific mode of transportation,” she knew two things: it looked expensive, and Quinn looked like she was in heaven as she studied it, chewing her lower lip in concentration.
Rachel watched, enraptured, as Quinn, her brow furrowed, ran her hand over the bike’s frame. Smooth white skin, delicate fingers, stood out in harsh contrast with the shining chrome, the sparkling red paint of the motorcycle. Of course it would be red, Rachel thought, but she didn’t voice it; she could only stare, still transfixed. Quinn was loving, almost as loving as she was with Rachel, when she picked up the cloth and began gently buffing at a spot on the bike, talking softly to herself.
“I didn’t know you had a motorcycle,” Rachel finally said, and Quinn glanced over her shoulder with a smile.
“It was my dad’s,” she answered, and Rachel caught the fleeting shadow that crossed over her eyes before it disappeared. “My mom hated it, but she knew I loved it, so she made him leave it. I think he hated leaving it more than he did us.”
“It’s a gorgeous machine,” Rachel said to change the subject. “A deadly machine, but gorgeous.”
Quinn laughed and reached out for Rachel, an arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her close as she dropped a kiss to the top of her girlfriend’s head. “It’s not deadly, if you know how to ride it.”
A shiver ran through Rachel, and she swallowed hard. “What, exactly, is it?” she managed to ask.
Quinn smirked and Rachel’s eyes narrowed; she knew that look. She had just enough time to shriek before Quinn had lifted her up, her hands on Rachel’s waist, and settled her gently on the seat of the bike.
“Quinn, I’m going to fall!” Rachel protested, and Quinn chuckled, shaking her head, hands not leaving their light grip on the small diva.
“You won’t,” she reassured. “The kickstand’s down.”
“The kick—what?”
“It helps the bike stay balanced when it’s parked,” Quinn explained. She smiled and gently brushed her lips to Rachel’s. “You know I won’t let you fall.”
Rachel huffed a little, then brought her hands up to run her fingers along the leather of the jacket’s collar. “This is a new look for you,” she said.
Quinn’s eyes glinted. “Like it?”
“I do,” Rachel admitted, biting her lip. “It’s just different. I’m not used to it. It doesn’t seem like it’s you, almost.”
Quinn’s smirk grew softer and she leaned forward to wrap her arms around Rachel’s waist; Rachel sighed happily as her girlfriend pressed their lips together and kissed her languidly, slowly. They pulled away but just enough for Quinn to rest her forehead against Rachel’s.
“Me?”
Rachel giggled. “Definitely you, baby.”
“Good.” Quinn ran the back of her hand over Rachel’s cheek.
“Tell me about it.”
“It?”
“The bike.”
“Ooh,” Quinn drawled, the smirk returning in full now. “Well, it’s a Harley, a 2010 model.”
She fell silent then, her hand running over the smooth red paint again, and Rachel rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to snap her fingers in front of her girlfriend’s face to bring back her focus. (She’d tried that once, earning her a full week with no sexting. That had been pure torture.)
“And?” she prompted instead.
“Easy, Berry,” Quinn teased. “Getting to the important stuff. It’s called a Wide Glide, and it’s red, obviously. It’s got an air cooled, twin cam 96 engine with an electronic sequential port fuel injection. It’s got a 9.2 to 1 compression ratio, and it can get up to 54 miles per gallon, on the highway. And…” she trailed off, catching Rachel’s look. “And you didn’t understand any of that, did you, baby?”
Rachel shifted on the seat, throwing her hands out when she mistrusted the balance of the vehicle, and Quinn caught her arms with that same charming smile, holding gently. Rachel waited until she had steadied herself, and then met Quinn’s hazel eyes with her own dark ones.
“Truthfully?”
A hint of worry crossed over Quinn’s face. “Always…”
Rachel smiled shyly. “It’s really hot,” she confessed. “Hearing you talk about it. It’s sexy.”
“Yeah?” Quinn said, her own smile growing wider.
Rachel nodded. “And you look…” she toyed with Quinn’s leather jacket again. “What you’re wearing is fucking hot, baby. You look amazing.”
Quinn curled herself closer to Rachel again, nuzzling the soft skin of her girlfriend’s neck, and Rachel sighed, tilting her head to allow her more access.
“Well, you know,” Quinn murmured against her ear, sending a shiver down Rachel’s spine, “I’m wearing something else you might be interested in.”
“O-oh?” Rachel said. “And wh-what—ah! What’s that?”
Quinn trailed the fingertips of her left hand down Rachel’s arm; the smaller girl shuddered at the touch, beaming when Quinn clasped her hand gently. Her eyes widened though, as Quinn brought her hand down, down to the front of her jeans and pressed it to the hardness there.
Her mouth opened to an O as Quinn ground the heel of Rachel’s hand into her; unbeknownst to Rachel it pushed the insert further into her girlfriend, and Quinn moaned. “You—you bought it?” Rachel breathed, leaving her hand where it was even as Quinn moved her own and brought it to rest on Rachel’s shoulder, holding on.
“Mmhm,” Quinn nodded.
“And you’re… wearing it?” Rachel squeaked.
Quinn cocked an eyebrow. “I’d think that would be obvious, baby.” She moved her hips slightly against the silicon inside her, and she groaned, leaning forward to rest her forehead on Rachel’s once more. “Is that… I mean is that okay?” she asked worriedly.
Rachel smiled at the care and concern in her girlfriend’s voice; it was such a departure from the way that Quinn used to talk to her that had they not been a couple Rachel would have thought Quinn was playing a joke on her. But she’d slowly discovered that past the rough exterior, past the insults and the slushies and the sneers, Quinn Fabray was one of the most vulnerable people Rachel Berry had ever known, and one of the sweetest. It was Quinn who told the Glee club they were dating, Quinn who had slapped Finn Hudson when his reaction had been to call Rachel a slut. Quinn who brought movies and tea when Rachel had come down with the flu – and then come down with it herself because she’d refused to leave her girlfriend’s side. And it was Quinn who took Rachel’s hand every morning as soon as the little diva walked into the school, and led her to her first class, stares of their fellow students be damned.
And now that they were seniors, it was Quinn who had asked Rachel if she could go with her to New York, once they’d graduated.
Of course Rachel had said yes, and she said yes now.
“It’s more than fine, baby,” Rachel said, moving both her hands to the fly of Quinn’s jeans, unzipping them and softly pulling the material away from her girlfriend’s skin. She hesitated. “We should go upstairs to your room.”
Quinn shook her head and left Rachel on the motorcycle, much to the girl’s protests, long enough to lock the door leading to the garage, and turn on the radio that was hanging on the wall. She nearly strutted back to her girlfriend and smiled, coming once again to stop in front of her.
“Here,” she said softly. “I want you here.”
“On the… on the floor?” Rachel asks incredulously. “Quinn, I understand that you like to be varied when it comes to our sex life, but I really can’t imagine anything sexy about your garage floor…”
“No, Rachel,” Quinn laughed, and quickly kissed away the pout that rose on her girlfriend’s lips. “Here. On the bike.”
Rachel didn’t know it, but Quinn had dreamed of it, often. Even before they were together, back when Quinn was pretending to hate Rachel while drawing pornographic pictures of her on the bathroom walls at William McKinley High School. She had wondered what it would be like, to kiss a girl on a motorcycle, to do more than that – to slide her fingers inside a girl and watch as her back arched against the motorcycle while Quinn fucked her…
And more often than not, the girl she dreamed of was the one staring at her now with wide, trusting eyes.
Rachel Berry.
Rachel hesitated, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes briefly. This is new territory for them both, but Rachel would always consider it a gift, to have Quinn, in every way imaginable. Her hands glided over Quinn’s back until they came to rest just over her hips, and she pulled her girlfriend closer into her. Her fingers slowly moved southward as Rachel kissed Quinn, teeth nipping at a plump lower lip and eliciting a growl. Rachel giggled as Quinn’s jeans slid lower, lower, until they drop around her ankles and Rachel sneaks a glance. The bulge of the silicon was unmistakable in Quinn’s panties, and Rachel ran her hand over the length of it, keep her eyes fastened, finally, on Quinn, before she pressed down hard and Quinn grunted, her hips thrusting up.
“So,” Rachel said slowly, a grin on her face, “I take it there’s a little something for you on the other side.”
Quinn nodded rapidly, fighting the urge to grind herself into Rachel’s hand. “Mm-hmn,” she mumbled, gasping softly as Rachel pressed even harder, faster, working up a rhythm. “Baby…”
“Good,” Rachel said. “Pull your shirt up, sweetheart.”
It would seem odd to anyone else, Quinn Fabray taking orders from Rachel Berry, but to her it’s second nature and she complied immediately, rewarded when Rachel’s mouth closed around one of her nipples and sucked it to stiffness, even as her hand continued its ministrations against Quinn’s center. Quinn’s own hand slipped up Rachel’s skirt and she smirked when her hand cupped wet fabric. Rachel groaned and pushed herself into Quinn’s palm.
“You like this,” Quinn said. “You like the idea of me wearing this for you.”
“You knew I would,” Rachel breathed against Quinn’s lip, biting down and grinning when her girlfriend squeaked. “That’s why you wore it.”
Quinn’s fingers pushed aside the cotton of Rachel’s panties and she groaned at the heat there, circling Rachel’s clit. Rachel moved her hips against Quinn’s hand, her head tilting backwards as she gasped for breath.
“Baby,” she said, grasping at the waistband of Quinn’s underwear and pulling it down around her hips. Her hand closes around the coolness of the silicon and her eyes flutter closed as she once again traces the length of it, palming it and thrusting with her hand so that the insert drives deeper into her girlfriend.
“Baby, more.”
“Yeah?” Quinn groaned, this time not even bothering with restraint as she rolls her hips into Rachel’s hand, her legs shaking as the insert hit that spot. “What do you want, baby?”
“Inside me,” Rachel growled. “Now. Please.”
Quinn smirked. “You know I love it when you beg.” She whined when Rachel pulled her hand away, but there was an uncertainty in the other girl’s eyes that caused Quinn to kiss her, quickly, even as she gently positioned Rachel so that she was almost lying fully on the motorcycle.
“Uncomfortable?” she asked quietly.
Rachel shook her head. “It’s not a bed,” she confessed, “But I want it. I want you.”
Quinn swung her leg over the motorcycle, moving so that she was straddling both it and Rachel, and her own eyes fluttered shut when Rachel’s hand reached down, down, once again closing around the cool smoothness that Quinn was wearing, and the insert shifted inside her girlfriend.
It was an awkward position, and even with her reassurances to Rachel Quinn was a little worried that the motorcycle would tip over; she figured it would be impossible to hold the motorcycle at the same time, so Quinn made the decision and closed her hands over the handlebars of the bike.
“You’re going to have to do some of the work, gorgeous,” she said apologetically. “I’ll make it worth your while later, baby.”
Rachel nodded, still cupping the dildo in her hands; her eyes still locked on Quinn’s, Rachel opened her legs and slid the silicon inside herself, groaning low and long as she did so.
“God,” she said, “God, Quinn, it’s…” She stopped as Quinn pushed into her, gently, gauging her reaction, and Quinn smiled.
“Feel good, angel?”
Rachel nodded. “Don’t stop.”
Quinn nodded in return. “Your shirt, baby,” she ordered softly. “Pull it up for me; let me see how beautiful you are.”
The sight of Rachel’s lace bra-clad breasts was nearly enough to make Quinn come on the spot but she held herself back, instead watching as Rachel ran her hands over herself, reaching around so that she could unsnap her bra and pull it up. Quinn moaned as Rachel teased her own nipples to hardness, staring up at her; Quinn’s hips began to move of their own volition and the sight of Rachel playing with herself combined with the movement of the dildo inside her was beginning to drive her crazy.
“God, fuck, Rachel,” Quinn gasped out, holding on to the handlebars of the motorcycle as best she could, “Baby, you’re amazing, god…”
Rachel just smirked, taking one hand away from her breasts to move it downward between Quinn’s legs and circle the wetness she found there. “So are you, baby… harder, Quinn, please, fuck me harder…”
Rachel wasn’t used to talking like that, but then again, she wasn’t used to Quinn thrusting into her on a motorcycle, either, with her jeans on a garage floor and wearing a dildo, either. This was a new side of Quinn, something Rachel hadn’t really known existed, but the smirk on Quinn’s face, the confident way that she stared down at Rachel, and the way that Rachel felt almost claimed by the other girl…
Yeah, she’d take it. As many times as Quinn wanted, yes please.
And Quinn didn’t hesitate to oblige her, thrusting into Rachel as hard as she could without causing pain, and Rachel would swear that she saw stars (gold of course). Quinn’s mouth descended to her breasts, licking and biting, moving up to her neck and leaving bruises there that Rachel would have to use makeup to cover up the next morning. A shiver rushed through her when she heard Quinn rasp, “Touch yourself, baby, do it, please.”
Quinn’s moan was loud even over the sound of the radio when Rachel’s hand slipped between her own legs and her fingers found her clit; she worked her fingers over herself and the fingers of her other hand over Quinn. Quinn dared to let go of one of the handlebars of the bike and slid it under Rachel’s ass, lifting the girl into her as she thrust steadily, deeply, and it didn’t take long before Rachel’s moans rose in pitch, telling her girlfriend that she was close.
“That’s it baby,” Quinn said, “Come for me, Rachel, come on, baby, I want to hear you, please…”
“Quinn,” Rachel cried out then; she lost sight of Quinn when her eyes screwed shut as she came, her hips jerking against the blonde cheerleader and her entire body wracked with the shudders. Still she managed to lightly twist Quinn’s clit in her fingers and that was all it took.
“Jesus, fuck, Rachel, yes,” Quinn gasped out, sagging on top of the small diva, her breathing ragged as her own orgasm coursed through her.
She lay against Rachel for a moment until the air came back to both of them, only pulling away when Rachel chuckled slightly. She glanced down to see her love staring up at her with shining eyes.
“That,” Rachel said, “was really really hot, but my back is going to hate me in the morning.”
Quinn laughed and gently pulled out of her girlfriend, smiling when Rachel sighed at the loss within her. “I’ll give you a massage once we get back to the bedroom, how’s that?”
Rachel nodded, allowing Quinn to help her to a sitting position. Quinn moved to remove the silicon she was wearing, but Rachel’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“Leave it on?” she requested softly, the glint still in her eyes.
Quinn grinned and raised Rachel’s hand to her lips, kissing her knuckles.
“Whatever you want, baby.”