#but some plot

It was a damp and cold day in New York, but Quinn Fabray still paused outside of the apartment block that was her destination, and her place to stay, for the next few days. It was seven in the evening, and she’d boarded the train here from New Haven pretty much as soon as her classes for the day had finished. 

Sighed, she stepped forward and pressed the intercom, pushing the strap of her bag further up her shoulder and wondering if coming here had been such a good idea, after all. 

“Hello?” A voice echoed out from the crackly intercom, the unmistakable sound of Rachel Barbara Berry, and Quinn smiled slightly, in spite of herself. She’d had fun the last time she’d come to visit. 

“Hey, Rach, it’s me. Let me up?” 

“Sure.” The door buzzed and she stepped inside the building, trying not to let her distaste show on her face as she made her way up the rickety stairs – she knew that Rachel and Kurt weren’t exactly made of money, but surely they could have ended up in a more sanitary place than this. 

The door to their apartment was propped open, and Quinn walked inside and let her bag drop on the back of the couch, taking in the balloons and the ‘happy birthday’ banners littering the large space. 

That was the reason she was here – for Santana Lopez’s birthday. Rachel had called her three days ago and asked if she’d like to come up for the weekend to celebrate with them, and she hadn’t been able to think of a viable excuse as to why she shouldn’t. 

Not that she didn’t want to be here, she did, she just… Couldn’t stop thinking about the last time that she and Santana had been together. Exactly sixty-three days ago – not that he was counting. Not at all. 

“Quinn!” Rachel appeared from her bedroom and bowling the blonde over in a hug, which Quinn returned, a little awkwardly. “How are you?” 

“Not too bad, thanks. You?” 

“Good, good.” Quinn was almost certain that that was a lie, but she didn’t want to push the brunette seeing as she was only her due to her invitation. It had stung a little that Santana hadn’t invited her herself, but maybe she had a good reason.

Maybe she couldn’t stop thinking about that night, too. 

“Where’s everyone else?” 

“Kurt is trying to keep Santana distracted for long enough for me to get this place decorated, and Brody has an evening class to teach but should be here shortly.”

“No-one else is coming?”

“No. I… didn’t think she’d want to see anyone else. I mean, she only really spoke to you at the wedding, so…” Quinn cleared her throat and looked hastily away at that, light flush colouring her cheeks at the memory – they’d been all over each other. 

“Yeah, I guess. What else needs doing?” Rachel put her to work, then, and in half an hour the apartment looked a lot more ready for a party, even though it was a small one. 

“Do you mind if I get changed?” She asked when they were done, as Rachel was surveying their handiwork. 

“Yeah, that’s fine. Do you wanna put your stuff in Santana’s room? I figured that’s where you’d be staying.”

“Uh, yeah. Be right back.” She disappeared quickly, shutting the door to Santana’s room behind her lightly and leaning back against it. She was one hundred percent sure that sharing a bed with the brunette was going to lead… places, and she didn’t know how she was feeling about that. 

Well, that was a lie – she would feel very, very, good about that, if the wedding had been any indication. She’d never felt so good before, but that didn’t mean that she wanted a repeat performance. 

Okay, so maybe she did. But what if Santana didn’t? They’d been acting normally ever since it happened, exchanging regular texts and whatnot, but they hadn’t seen each other since, and aside from the morning after they hadn’t really talked about it, either. 

Sighing, she decided that thinking about it wasn’t going to do her any good and set about exchanging her jeans and t-shirt for a dress, running her fingers through her hair, trying to make it look like she’d at least made an effort. 

She heard the front door open and froze, standing in-front of Santana’s mirror, as she heard voices coming through the door – one of them unmistakably belonging to the brunette that had messed with her head so thoroughly. 

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her dress and made her way over to the door, forcing herself to open it and move into the other room. Santana’s back was to her, and she was stood with her hands on her hips saying something to Rachel and Kurt, who stood in-front of her. 

Rachel noticed Quinn first, a smile crossing her face, and Kurt waved, and then Santana turned around and Quinn forgot how to breathe. 

Their eyes met, hazel and brown, and the brunette’s gaze travelled deliberately over her body in a way that made her bite her lip, and even though she felt strangely exposed, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked, but her voice was soft, and Quinn forced herself to remember that they weren’t alone, that there were other people here, refusing to let her eyes linger on the brunette’s lips, much as she wanted to. 

It’d help if she couldn’t stop remembering how the tasted, how they felt moving so sweetly against her own. 

“I… Rachel invited me.”

“Yes, because you didn’t do it yourself. Really, Santana,” Rachel’s voice had their attention snapping away from each other. “I don’t know how you manage to keep any friends with the way you treat them.” 

Quinn tried to fight a smile at that particular choice of words, and when Santana caught her gaze and noticed she laughed, trying to cover it as a cough. “Whatever, Berry. I’m glad you came, Q.” 

“Shall we get this party started, then?” Kurt spoke up for the first time, striding over to a set of speakers and pressing play, beckoning the other three over to the couch to sit down. 

“I forgot my phone, I’ll be back in a second,” Quinn murmured, realising belatedly that it was still in the pocket of her jeans, and she made her way back into Santana’s bedroom, releasing a breath once she was safely inside. 

She didn’t think she could make it through this weekend without pouncing on her, the memory of tanned hands running across her skin, making her feel things that she’d never felt before too vivid, too fresh in her mind. 

She jumped when the door opened and shut behind her, and her eyes lifted to the mirror, noting that it was, as she’d suspected, Santana that had entered the room. She was stood just inside the door, wringing her hands in a rare show of nerves. 

“I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t ask you to come out here because I didn’t want to see you,” she started, apologetically. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“You know that’s a stupid thing to say, right?” She turned to face the brunette, crossing her arms across her chest, noticing how dark eyes followed the movement before darting up to meet her own. “My eyes are up here.” It spilt from her lips without conscious thought, her tone light and teasing, and she watched for Santana’s reaction with slight fascination. 

“Maybe it wasn’t your eyes I wanted to look at.” Quinn bit her lip, not sure how to react to that piece of information, and then Santana is taking three quick steps across the room until she’s in-front of her, pressing their lips together in a kiss that rips a moan from her throat, a tongue slipping past her lips and meeting hers in a frenzied dance. 

She’s powerless to do anything except pull Santana closer, lost in the feeling of strong hands at her thighs, nails running across her skin, and the body pushing her back against the dresser. It cuts into the back of her thighs, and then she’s being lift to sit on-top of it, legs wrapping automatically around Santana’s slight waist, pulling her closer as her hands grip the material of her shirt so hard that her knuckles turn white. 

“Santana? Did you steal my laptop charger again?” Rachel’s voice cuts through them, and they have about five seconds before the door is being opened yet again – Santana leaps away from Quinn as though she’s been burnt, and Quinn jumps down, turning her back away from the doorway in an effort to hide how flushed she was, not to mention the fact that her breath was coming in short pants. 

“Uh, no, I don’t think so.” How Santana manages to speak so coherently to Rachel when she appears, Quinn doesn’t quite know, but she’s grateful that she does, because Quinn is sure that the only thing that would come out of her mouth would be incomprehensible mumbles. 

“Oh, are you sure?” 

“I’ll check for you. We’ll be out in a second.” It’s a dismissal, and Rachel apparently gets that, because the door is clicking shut as she retreats, and she hears Santana let out a sigh of relief. “Well that was close,” she murmurs, and when Quinn turns her eyes are on her yet again. 

“You could say that. What was that?”

“I missed you,” the brunette shrugged, and Quinn’s heart sings, because god, she’s missed her too, and even though they’re only two hours away from each other, it feels like there’s a whole sea between them. “And I… I’ve wanted to do that again since you left that morning.” 

“I’ve wanted to do it, too.” They share a shy smile, neither entirely sure what it means, any of it, for them, but not really caring, either. “We should probably head back out there before they think we’ve killed each other.”

“I guess.” Quinn crossed the short distance over to her and presses a gentle, softer kiss to her lips, and the way Santana’s arms wrap around her with such tenderness surprised them both. “We can talk more later.” 

x-x-x

“Let’s play spin the bottle!” Rachel’s voice is loud, and she’s had far too much to drink, but Quinn finds drunk-Rachel hilarious, as she’s just found out. She’s sat beside Santana on the floor, their backs pressed against the couch, and the brunette’s arm is thrown careless over her shoulder. 

“That is a terrible idea, Rachel,” Kurt pipes up from where he’s sat on the opposite couch, beside his kinda-mabe boyfriend Adam. 

“Whyyyy,” Rachel whines, and Santana laughs at their exchange, watching her two roommates with stark affection in her eyes. 

“Because you’re dating Brody, I’m with Adam, and I highly doubt that Quinn or Santana want to be kissing anyone in this room, so no.” Quinn’s eyes flicker to Santana’s at that, and they hold each other’s gaze for a moment, the blonde wondering if it had suddenly grown hot in this room or if that was just the heat from the look that Santana was shooting her. 

“Then let’s play something else. Oh! I know. Truth or dare.” Quinn tries to protest that, not really in the mood for playing any sort of games where her recent encounters with Santana could come into play, but she’s outvoted, and so, with a sigh, agrees to join in. 

“Santana,” Kurt starts, tilting his head to once side as he studies her. “Truth or dare.” 

“Truth,” the brunette replies immediately, and Kurt’s look turns considering. 

“Best sexual experience?” 

“Wow, Hummel, you’re really diving right in there, aren’t you?” Kurt just smirked, and Santana deliberated. “It’s a tie between two.” 

“Which are?” 

“The first time I slept with the only two girls I’ve ever been with.” Santana was looking resolutely anywhere but at her, and Quinn raised an eyebrow as she eyed the side of the brunette’s face. Well, that was certainly an interesting answer, she mused, but didn’t have much time to ponder that because it was her turn to answer something. 

“Quinn, truth or dare?” Rachel was the one asking this time, and she met the diva’s look with head-on.

“Mmm, truth,” she replied, after a moment’s deliberation – with a question like the previous on to kick things off, she didn’t want to dive into a dare before she knew what type of things were going to happen. 

“If you could have sex with any of the guys that we were in glee club with, who would it be and why?” 

“Do I have to pick one?” She mused aloud, and Kurt and Santana laughed. “I don’t know. Probably Puck, I guess.” 

The round continued on the other four (and Quinn learnt things that she most definitely didn’t want to know about most of them), before it was Santana’s turn once again. 

“Dare,” she said simply, smiling slightly, but it faltered at Kurt’s smirk. 

“I dare you to kiss the person in this room who you think would be the best in bed. And I mean properly kiss, not just a peck on the lips.” Rachel nodded in approval of the question, Adam looked wildly uncomfortable, and Brody was looking at Santana with an expression of mild curiosity. 

And Quinn? Quinn was having an internal panic attack, because she didn’t want to watch Santana kiss someone else but she was also fairly sure that if they kissed things would escalate rather quickly. 

“The best in bed?” Santana asked, and Kurt nodded in affirmation. “Alright, then.” Quinn saw Santana twist slightly at her side, so that they were facing, and she bit her lip, their eyes meeting. “I never knew you were such a perv, Hummel,” she shot over Quinn’s shoulder towards Kurt, and then she leant those last few millimetres forwards and brushed her lips lightly against Quinn’s, much more tenderly than when she’d kissed her before in the bedroom. 

Quinn kissed her back tentatively, aware of the eyes upon them but also losing herself in the kiss, biting back a moan as Santana’s tongue ran along her lips gently, and she opened her mouth, tilting further forward. 

The brunette pulled back after a few more seconds, teeth grazing lightly against Quinn’s bottom lip as they parted. Hazel eyes opened to see Rachel and Kurt gaping at them, Adam looking away at a spot on the far wall, and Brody eyeing the pair of them appreciatively. 

“That was hot,” he said, the first to break the silence, and he earned a smack from his brunette girlfriend across the back of his head. 

“I know we’re hot as fuck, but you can stop staring now, losers. It’s creepy.” Santana, sensing Quinn’s unease at all the eyes upon them, spoke up, the arm around the blonde’s shoulders tightening, just a little. 

The game was forgotten, then, as Rachel’s phone rang and she hurried to her bedroom – Quinn was sure from the dark look that passed briefly across Brody’s face that it was Finn calling – and her, Kurt and Adam disappeared towards the kitchen in search of another drink. 

“Sorry, Q,” Santana murmured, voice quiet beside her ear. “I didn’t wanna put you on the spot like that but no way in hell was I making out with any other of these idiots.”

“It’s fine,” she whispered back, lips still tingling, slightly, the taste of the red wine in Santana’s hand lingering in her mouth, left behind from the brunette’s tongue. She herself wasn’t drinking, not trusting herself to be able to keep her hands of Santana’s body if she was intoxicated. 

“I’m glad you came tonight. It’d be much less fun without you.” 

“Who would you have kissed then?” She asked, teasing, and Santana laughed, eyes falling to Quinn’s lips, the blonde definitely noticing. She gulped, aching to kiss her again, but she was all too aware of the fact that they weren’t alone. 

“Guys?” Kurt’s voice had their heads turning upwards towards the sound of his voice, and his head appeared moments later, over the back of the couch. “We’re gonna order some pizza, if you want some? And then we were thinking of heading out, if you’re up for it?” 

“I… actually don’t feel up for going out tonight,” Santana was the one who replied, earning a look of disbelief from the boy stood over them. 

“What? But it’s your birthday! Who are you, and what have you done with the real Santana Lopez?” Quinn grinned, watching Santana’s response as she struggled to find an excuse. 

“I’m tired after working today,” she said eventually, with a shrug. 

“Then we’ll just go for a little bit,” Kurt pleaded, and Santana’s eyes found Quinn’s, raising a subtle eyebrow out of Kurt’s sight. 

“Come on, S, it’ll be fun.” Quinn forced a smile, feeling bad that she was the reason that Santana didn’t want to spend tonight with her friend’s, even though it wasn’t her actual birthday until tomorrow. She wished that they could be together, alone, all night, but that was selfish of her. 

“Fine, fine. But not for long.” The brunette shot Kurt a warning look but he had already disappeared with an excited clap of his hands. “It’s going to be a long night,” Santana murmured, for Quinn’s ears only, eyeing the neckline of the blonde’s dress appreciatively. 

“You can that again,” Quinn replied. “And my eyes are still up here.” 

x-x-x

By midnight, Quinn was ready to go back to Santana’s, Rachel’s and Kurt’s apartment and curl up in bed – they’d only been out for an hour. They were in a bar, and Rachel was being extremely loud, Kurt looked about ready to kill her, and Adam and Brody was lost in some sort of sports discussion that Quinn had no interest in. 

She’d let Santana convince her to have just one drink, and an empty glass of wine sat in the table before her – she wished she’d had more, but she didn’t want to be too out of it, and apparently Santana felt the same, having only had one more than the blonde.

The others didn’t feel the same, and were all in various stages of drunkenness – Quinn wondered whether they’d be okay out on their own, then decided that there were four of the, surely they’d manage between them. 

Noticing that no-one eyes were on her, and a little emboldened by the alcohol in her system, she slipped one arm nonchalantly under the table, letting it rest on the bare skin of Santana’s thigh, just below were the hem of her dress stopped. 

The brunette jumped slightly at the contact, their eyes meeting. Quinn merely smirked, pushing her hand higher, until it was under the skirt of the dress and rising higher. Santana squirmed as she moved higher, and when she reached the barrier of the brunette’s underwear, she reached two her fingers across to graze her slit through the thin barrier, hearing the way her breath caught in her throat in response. 

Quinn’s eyes flickered to Rachel, who was sat directly opposite them, but she was turned towards Kurt, paying them no attention, probably lost in a debate about some musical. Without looking towards the brunette who was sat beside her, she easily pulled her panties to one side and slid her fingers through the small gap that appeared, biting her lip to stifle a moan when she felt how wet Santana was – all for her. 

“I need to go to the bathroom!” Santana announced rather suddenly, practically springing to her feet, and Quinn let her hand drop quickly, trying to fight a smile. 

“Me too,” she murmured, and she stepped aside to let Santana out of the booth and followed her towards the bathrooms on the far side of the bar, ignoring the confused looks that were being shot their way. 

As soon as they were through the door and Santana checked all three stalls to ascertain that there was nobody else in there with them, the brunette had pinned her against the wall and was kissing her furiously, hands burying in her hair and a toned thigh being pushed between her legs, the friction causing her to groan. 

“When did you get so bold?” Santana whispered into her ear when their lips parted, tongue tracing the shell of her ear, teeth grazing against the lobe lightly. “I knew never you had it in you.” 

“I’m full of surprises,” she gasped as Santana’s hands rose to cup her breasts through the flimsy material of her dress, her fingers digging into the small of the brunette’s back in an effort to hold her closer. 

“And you’re also a tease.” That was whispered against her the side of her neck as Santana’s teeth bit at her pulse point, and Quinn bit her lip to stifle a strangled moan.

“Fuck, S, I… we can’t do this here.”

“Why not?” A hand ran up her thigh, ran the length of her once before cupping her through her panties, roughly. “You’re ready for it.”

“But it’s no-not sanitary.”

“Seriously, Q? You sound like Berry.” 

“We’re not fucking in a dirty bar bathroom!” But she made no move to stop things, even willing the brunette’s hand, still pressed against her centre, to pick up its movements. 

“Fine. But we’re going back home right now, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll forget what day it is,” Santana whispered, voice unintentionally sultry, into the blonde’s ear, and Quinn’s breathing quickened, the words sending a spike of heat through her entire body. “Come on.”

Santana took her hand and all but dragged her back through the door and towards their friends, and Quinn didn’t even care anymore if it looked like they’d been doing what they’d actually been doing. She didn’t care what any of them thought, because Santana’s hand was warm in hers, and she was about to have sex with the hottest girl she’d ever been fortunate enough to know. 

For the third time. 

“We’re going to head back, guys, Quinn’s really tired.” She yawned for added effect to Santana’s words, and within five minutes they were outside and on the short walk back to the apartment. It was mild out, but she still walked close to the brunette, and their hands remained linked the whole way back. 

As soon as they were through the front door their lips met again, the kiss hungry and passionate, making Quinn’s head swim with its intensity. Santana led her backwards to her bedroom easily, slamming the door behind them by pushing Quinn against it roughly, earning an appreciative moan. 

“As hot as that dress is, it’d look much better if it were on the floor right now,” Santana murmured against her lips, hands pulling the offended item to her hips, and she lifted her arms above her head, allowing the brunette to take it the rest of the way off. 

Even though she’d been half-naked in-front of Santana before, and fully naked not even that long ago, she still felt strangely exposed – last time they’d both been completely wasted, and this was different.

Now they had a purpose, now it wasn’t just a random hook-up. Now they wanted this, both of them, they were coming together as equals, and while the thought ignited a fire within her, it was also terrifying, in an exhilarating way. 

She forgot all that, though, as Santana’s own dress came over her head, revealing a smooth expanse of tan skin covered only by scraps of black lace. She trailed one hand down the side of the brunette’s neck and over her collarbone, running it along her sternum and then tracing the edge of her bra lightly, eyes never leaving the darkened gaze of the other woman. 

It was a front clasp, and she undid it easily, sliding the straps down Santana’s arms before kissing her again, leading her back towards the bed with sure steps, letting her hands wander across her stomach, feeling muscle trembling beneath her fingertips. 

They collapsed onto the bed, Quinn’s body ontop of the brunette, their legs tangled and chests pressed together, the feeling of skin-on-skin contact setting her alight wherever they touched. Sure hands reached around her back to remove her own bra, and she let it fall off, tossing it to one side without breaking the languid kiss they’d found themselves in, just letting herself feel every touch of talented fingers against her skin, as they traced each one of her ribs and rose higher until they reached the swell of a breast. 

She moaned into the brunette’s mouth when her fingers found a pebbled nipple, and her hips ground down of their own accord against Santana’s thigh. She was flipped onto her back, the next second, the brunette not even breaking the kiss, but then she was pulling away and kissing down the side of her neck, moving down lower until her tongue was running over the blonde’s other nipple, teeth tugging lightly, and her beck arched into her moan, gasp leaving her lips as her hips bucked. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Q,” Santana murmured reverently against her skin, their eyes meeting and gaze holding as Santana’s tongue snuck out again to run along glistening skin, and her eyes closed, sure that eye contact had never felt so erotic before. 

“So are you,” she replied, as best as could when Santana’s kisses were moving lower, until they reached the top of her panties, and there she stopped, her fingers playing lightly with the edge. 

“Are you… okay with this?” She asked, uncertainty in brown eyes, and Quinn frowned down at her, uncomprehending, and then… 

“What? Oh. Oh. I’ve never… I mean - ”

“No-one’s ever?” Quinn shook her head, biting her lip, thinking that this conversation would be so much easier if Santana didn’t look so hot when she was between her legs. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

“No, I… I think I do.” Santana moved up to kiss her mouth once more, with a desperation that Quinn had never felt before, and then she’s disappearing southwards once again, pulling the blonde’s underwear down her legs and letting them drop off the end of the bed. 

Quinn tells herself to relax, because it isn’t like Santana hasn’t seen her naked before, because she has, but this was definitely different because last time they hadn’t done anything like this. She feels lips press against her thighs and her legs tremble slightly under the light touch.

“If you want me to stop,” Santana murmurs, breath just barely brushing against Quinn’s sex. “Then just tell me, okay?” 

“Okay,” the blonde breathes in reply, and strong hands move to pull her legs further apart, wrapping around her thighs to press her against her hips. Quinn’s sure she’s going to die from anticipation before Santana even does anything, but then the flat of the brunette’s tongue runs across her and circles once around her clit, and, “oh, fuck, yes,” is about the only thing that she can say, as her hips press against Santana’s mouth of their own accord, and her hands move down the run through dark hair. 

“I’m guessing that means you don’t want me to stop, then.” Quinn’s eyes open to meet Santana’s, who’s looking at her with an expression of outright want on her face, and she just shakes her head because she’s sure that she isn’t going to be able to form words right now. 

Santana just laughs before her head dips back down, and this time she takes the blonde’s clit into her mouth gently, tongue running over the tip, and Quinn is sure that it shouldn’t be possible to feel this good – topping the first time they slept together.

And then second. 

She’s lost to feeling, then, her mind going blank, unable to focus on anything aside from the swipes of Santana’s tongue, and when the brunette releases her hold on her right hip, only to press two fingers into her without any warning she cries out, loudly, grateful that no-one else is home, and she feels herself clenching around the brunette’s fingers, falling headlong into the most earth-shattering orgasm that she’s sure anyone has ever experience, ever. 

Santana slows her movements but doesn’t stop until Quinn’s come down from her high, and she removes her fingers only to run her tongue over them lightly, and Quinn watches through hooded eyes, thinking that that just might be the hottest thing that she’s ever seen. 

Santana’s lips press against hers when she’s moved back up her body, and she can taste herself on the brunette’s tongue as it strokes lazily against hers. They stay tangled together, kissing, until Quinn’s heart-rate stops pounding in her ears. 

“That was amazing,” she whispered against Santana’s lips when they part, and she feels a laugh rumble in the other woman’s chest, pressed against her own. 

“More than a one time thing?” Santana teases, and Quinn grins, kissing the smirk off of the brunette’s mouth. 

“Definitely.” 

x-x-x

An hour later they’re curled around each other, both exhausted, and aching in all the right places. Quinn murmured about getting a drink, always thirsty after sex, and Santana murmurs an incoherent response, not having been able to form proper sentences since Quinn had returned the earlier favour – at least she knew she hadn’t been terrible at it. 

She moves off the bed and stretches, stealing Santana’s bathrobe on the back of the door and pulling it on over her heated skin, trying the sash lightly around her waist and making her way out of the room. 

She hadn’t heard any other the others come back yet, which was probably a good thing – the pair of them weren’t exactly experts at keeping quiet. Santana especially, which was something that Quinn had been surprised (and a little turned on by) to discover. 

She’d just grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge when she heard a door open, and turned to see a drowsy-looking Latina emerge from her bedroom, making a beeline for the blonde and stealing the water from her hand, taking a long drink herself before handing it back.

“I would have brought you one, you know,” she laughs, and Santana merely shrugs. The movement causes the oversized t-shirt she’s wearing to ride up, revealing that she neglected to put underwear back on underneath. 

“Now who’s eyes are wandering?” Her gaze snaps back up to meet amused brown, and she mumbles before leaning up to kiss her softly, still floating on cloud nine, just a little, from the wonderful sex they’d just had. “Ready for another round already?” 

“Mm, always, with you.”

“I’ve lost count, what time is this? Is it only a six-time thing, now?” Quinn rolled her eyes and shoved the brunette back lightly, smiling in spite of herself. Okay, so she was definitely attracted to Santana, but that didn’t mean that had to put a label on things – she was perfectly fine with this, whatever it was. 

For now, at least. 

“Shut up,” she murmurs against her lips, shoving the fridge door shut and shoving the bottle of water on the counter so that she could grip the brunette’s waist, but Santana had other ideas and spun them around, shoving her back against the wall beside her bedroom. “What is it with you and walls?” 

“Walls are good.” Santana unties the knot in the bathrobe Quinn’s wearing and bends her head in order to litter kisses across her breasts, as one of her hands slides underneath, running along the blonde’s slit before pressing into her, groaning at the tightness around her fingers.

Quinn’s head lolls back to press against the wall as her hips push into Santana’s hand as she began to thrust her fingers in a rhythm that would have probably been punishing had it not felt so good. Quinn’s surprised that she can take much more, but wraps one leg around Santana’s hip all the same, opening herself wider and allowing the brunette to press a third finger into her. 

“God, Santana,” she groans, and hot lips move up to her neck, kissing her pulse point. Quinn hears, in a far off part of her mind, a key in a lock, and then she hears it turning, and then realisation dawns – her eyes meet Santana’s wide ones, and they have about one second before the door’s thrown open but unlike the last time they were interrupted there is no time whatsoever to disguise what they’ve been up to. 

Santana’s hand moves quickly out from between the blonde’s legs, and Quinn is re-tying the sash of the robe when the door creaks open, and three laughing forms spill through the gap. Lights are flicked on by Kurt, and it’s only then that they’re noticed. 

Quinn knows exactly what it looks like - they’re both flushed, breathing heavily, and it’s painfully obvious that neither one of them is wearing many clothes. Brody looks half-stoned, but Quinn supposes he usually looks like that, but Rachel and Kurt are looking at them with their mouths half-hanging open. 

“I… what… you… what the hell happened while we were gone?” Kurt is the first to speak, and Santana turns to Quinn, who just shrugs helplessly – the brunette has always been better at thinking on her feet, after all. 

“I’ll draw you a diagram tomorrow,” Santana drawled, grabbing Quinn’s hand and pulling her the short distance towards the safety of the brunette’s bedroom. “Oh, and uh, if any of you have earplugs, you might wanna wear them tonight. Quinn’s a screamer.”

“Santana!” Quinn is outraged, but there’s a glint of mischief in the brunette’s eyes that she can’t be mad at, and the looks she she’s on Kurt and Rachel’s faces just before Santana shuts her bedroom door is definitely worth it. 

“You’re going to pay for that.”