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13 February 2013 @ 11:30 pm
fic: love fool (1/?)  
Title: Love Fool (1/?)
Rating: NC-17
Couple: Quinn/Santana
Summary: So, really last night isn’t a big deal. Quinn was just curious and lonely and drunk. Santana was probably the same. So, she shouldn’t be freaking out.
Prompt: none
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I certainly wish I did. They'd hump like bunnies on viagra.
A/N: This fic is the result of a late night conversation with a friend who was having overwhelming Quinntana feelings. I hope I do this story justice.


Everything is bright when hazel eyes flutter open and her hand flies to her face, trying to block out the light that is doing nothing to help the throbbing pain in the back of her head. Her skull actually feels swollen and she wishes she could turn the sun down about eight thousand notches in the brightness department. Her eyes snap shut immediately and she hisses out a curse under her breath. How had she forgotten to close the blinds? Oh that’s right. It probably has something to do with the way that even the sound of her own breathing is making the pounding in her head worse and the heaviness in her body.

Her fingers scramble to grasp the thick hotel comforter and she tosses off of her body, noticing two things. The first is her own nakedness, which is definitely unusual because she rarely sleeps naked, and the second that there’s a slender, brown arm around her waist making her hasty escape to the window an impossibility. She looks down at the arm with resentment and tries to ignore the memories that make her want to close her eyes, and just let herself revel. Which is all the more reason why she should get up go. She’s been fighting this for months. Months. She’s been telling herself that it’s completely normal to be curious when someone you’ve known for a significant amount of time has a complete lifestyle change. In high school, she’d been too busy to really dwell on anything going on with anyone else. Now she’s in college and meeting new people and learning new things. So, how could she not be curious? And look at Santana. She’s gorgeous and she finally understands why everyone in high school seemed to be obsessed with her.

So, really last night isn’t a big deal. Quinn was just curious and lonely and drunk. Santana was probably the same. So, she shouldn’t be freaking out. Only she is because she remembers last night vividly. The way Santana’s lips had tasted, the feel of her fingers against her skin, the way her breath had felt on the nape of her neck all comes flooding back and intermingle with the feelings Quinn is having and has been having for months now. Probably since she saw Santana standing in the auditorium in that green dress during Thanksgiving break.

And it wouldn’t be so bad if this was just about having her curiosity sated, but no she has to be fucking Alice following the White Rabbit down the hole into an unknown world. She is Lucy through the wardrobe and the part of them that carried them off in search of adventure is the same part of her that wants to keep laying here. It’s the part of her that makes her want to bury her face into the side of Santana’s neck and inhale the scent of musk and sweat and a hint of the True Religion perfume she’s been obsessed with since high school. But that would be such a bad idea and she’s made enough of those to last her a lifetime.

And of course she's awake before Santana. A look at the nearby clock reveals that it's a quarter past ten and a sober Santana sleeps until noon. No telling when hungover Santana will wake up. Quinn's always been an early riser and she's never hated herself more for that fact than now, because she’s being forced to deal with this all alone. It would be so much easier if Santana had just gotten up and slipped away in the early morning or if she just hadn’t wrapped herself around Quinn’s body and fallen asleep in the first place. Because Quinn thinks she could handle the silence of the rejection. It’s the idea of Santana waking up and confirming that this didn’t mean anything and blaming it on the alcohol and loneliness and seeing Brittany cuddling next to Sam was just too much for her.

It’s not hard to slip free from under Santana’s arm. She weighs practically nothing and sleeps like the dead once she’s gone. Still Quinn lingers a moment or two longer than she should before sliding free. A part of her wonders, just for the briefest of seconds, if it would be so bad if Santana woke up and it’s that thought, the brief hesitation, that has her out of the bed. She locates her panties near the bottom of the bed and she finds her dress crumpled on Santana’s “side” of the bed. She doesn’t have a clue where her bra is, but she doesn’t want to waste the time to find it in case Santana surprises them both and wakes up. She pulls on her heels and hurries to the door. She takes one last look at the girl sleeping in the bed and then walks about before she can do something stupid, like wait around for Santana to get up.

There’s no one in the hallway thankfully and she berates herself repeatedly on the way to her room. She should’ve learned her lesson about drunkenly hooking up with people the first time, but no she still makes poor decision while “under the influence.” At least this one can’t get her pregnant and kicked out of her house. Yet, this one feels almost as devastating. It causes this strange ache in her chest and makes her throat thick with a sob.

She’s just rolling her eyes at her own dramatics when she hears a low whistle behind her. She turns and sees Puck leaning against the door of a room she just passed. He’s eying her slowly and there’s this smirk on his face that has her narrowing her eyes and gritting her teeth.

“Well, well Fabray, I never thought I’d see you doing the walk of shame. Thought you were too good for that.” His tone is amused and he pushes away from the wall, strolling towards her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says casually and looks past him to a spot on the wall. It’s a trick she’s been employing since freshman year of high school, the mask of cool indifference, like she can’t see you. She prays it works because she really doesn’t need this right now.

Puck chuckles and shakes his head. “Yeah, sure you don’t. You’re just walking down the hall in a dress that looks like it spent a night crumpled on some dude’s floor and you just look plain fucked yourself.” He’s enjoying this far too much for her liking and she kinds of wants to slap that look right off of his face, but instead she just keeps staring at the wall, willing herself not to react even as his words conjure up memories of Santana peeling her dress off of her body. “Who was it, Q? I’m not mad. I kinda want to go congratulate the guy on getting into Fort Knox.”

Quinn’s eyes flicker to his face and she just stares at him, unimpressed and incredulous. “Are you done? Because I swear to God if you say one more asinine thing out of you mouth, I will make sure they can’t identify the body, Puckerman. Just because little girls find you charming doesn’t mean you actually are.” It’s her turn to fix him with a knowing look because of course she and Kitty have kept in touch and she knows all about the night of Sadie Hawkin’s Dance. “I just hope you were smarter with her than you were with me.” She spins on her heels and starts back in the direction she was going.

“I think getting laid was supposed to make you less of a bitch,” Puck calls after her, but she lets it roll off of her back and heads into her room at the end of the hall. She heads into the bathroom and turns on the shower to as hot as she can. She pushes all thoughts of Puck and Kitty and high school out of her mind completely. She steps inside of the shower and, for the first time, allows the tears to flow freely from her eyes. Let’s all the pain and anguish spill from her and wash down the drain with the water because once she’s out of there, once the water runs cold, she’s going to have to pick herself up and get over this. Get over the fact that she had sex with Santana Lopez and it meant everything in the world to her. And it probably meant nothing at all to the other girl.
 
 
Current Location: marietta, ga 30067
Current Mood: tiredtired
Current Music: west wing (on tv)
 
 
 
musicffmemusicffyou on February 14th, 2013 04:38 am (UTC)
Ok see a part of me 100% understands why Quinn just left and I totally agree with her reasoning. But the romantic part of me really really wishes she had just gone back to sleep and we could see what happens when Santana woke up. Can't wait to read where you take this!
Cassie: Quinntanacassie_faith on February 20th, 2013 03:46 am (UTC)
Okay, this was awesome. And I loved it. :D