I don't own Glee. If I did, I'd at least get a fucking hot make out between Santana and Rachel - at least.

So, this is a prequel to my story Sing It Louder (thank you guys for the amazing response :}), but this story is different than Sing It Louder because it's not just smut. No, this story is going to cover Santana's 'coming out' to Rachel and all that happens with that. Because what's Glee without drama? I'll tell you. Not Glee!

Also, you'll find out that the Santana I'm portraying is different than the Santana on the show, in regards to sex. I'm doing that for a reason. I think you'll get it as you read.

Warning: Contains futa/girl!peen situations. If not your thing, just hit the handy dandy back button.

It was their three month anniversary. Santana's parents were both working overnight shifts, but with pointed looks at their daughter, Santana's father slipping back in with a box of condoms a couple of minutes later, they gave her permission to have Rachel spend the night. She was a responsible young girl, they had said, and so was Rachel, so as long as no wild parties or underage drinking happened, they'd trust her just this once.

Staring down at the box, Santana tried to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. Aside from the fact that she and Rachel hadn't had sex yet, and that Rachel didn't even – Santana closed her eyes – know, she was pretty sure she couldn't even get Rachel pregnant.

Hearing her phone tell her that she had a new text message, Santana shoved the condoms into a desk drawer, slamming it shut and scooping up her phone. Trying to ignore the thick feeling in her stomach, she smiled when One New Message: Rachel Berry popped up. Jumping onto her bed, she eagerly clicked it open.

Hi baby! Practice finished early (apparently we are exceeding Ms. Jacobs' expectations, though I believe that's a crock because Elizabeth is STILL missing her cues by three seconds; honestly, how hard is it to get that one cue after THREE SESSIONS?), so I'm all yours. :) Do you want to come pick me up?

Smirking at her girlfriend's normal long-winded text, Santana glanced at the clock. Knowing her dad would be leaving in twenty minutes, her mother another hour later, she nodded to herself and started typing back. Awesome, babe. Sure thing – be there in fifteen. And damn right. You're ALWAYS mine. Remember that. :p

Sliding off her bed, she glanced down at what she was wearing, grimaced, and hurried into her walk-in closet. Changing from her 'lounging around the house' clothing into her 'not be embarrassed to be seen in public and pick up her stunning girlfriend and take her out to eat so they wouldn't run into her mother when they came back to her house' clothing that consisted of one of her trademark tight dresses and short jacket, she quickly ran a brush through her hair. Then, after grabbing her purse and chuckling at Rachel's Oh, I'm SO sorry that I forgot I apparently belong to you. Should I get Property of Santana Lopez tattooed somewhere on my person? ;) she made her way to the kitchen where she knew her parents would be, answering with Property of Santana Fucking Lopez, thank you very much. :* Alright, about to leave, babe. Hesitating, she sighed and sent it off without the sappy I love you her fingers ached to type.

"Ana?" Her mother looked up from where she was rinsing out the glass she had been using earlier, "Time to pick up Rachel already?"

Santana walked over to the refrigerator. Pulling out two bottles of water, she nodded, "Yup, Mom. Class got out early. So I'll see you tomorrow. Evening?"

Andrea Lopez' lips twitched into a grin she probably didn't want her daughter to see, though Santana caught it anyway, "Yes, Ana. Tomorrow evening." Setting the washed glass down next to the sink, she turned and gave Santana one last pointed look, "You be responsible, okay?"

Santana averted her gaze, red tinting her cheeks, though she was able to recover quickly. She nodded. "I'm always responsible, Mom," she said airily, walking over to kiss her mother's cheek, "And now, I am responsibly off."

Escaping before her mother could start up the 'sex is an incredibly meaningful thing, and though you may have… other urges than Rachel, don't push her, Santana Lopez' conversation again (which was only slightly worse than the 'before you decide to share all of yourself, Ana, you have to decide and know if the person you want to be with will be able to… understand. You have nothing to be ashamed about, but not everyone is, unfortunately, as open minded as they should be' conversation she had been given when she'd entered junior high, something she hadn't quite understood herself until her sex drive suddenly made itself known the second she'd laid eyes on the new transfer student, Brittany Pierce), she nodded goodbye to her father when she passed him in the hallway and jumped into her car. Realizing her heart was pounding and her palms were getting sweaty, she wiped them on her dress, turned her car on, took a deep breath, and went to go collect her girlfriend.

Sliding into the passenger seat after putting her gym bag in the back, Rachel leaned forward, meeting Santana halfway. Eyes fluttering shut, shivering when Santana reached forward to cup her neck, Rachel pressed into her kiss. Lips tingling, Santana whispered a soft, "Hi," brushing her thumb along Rachel's pulse point. Her girlfriend's heart rate had sped up, and Santana had to shift to push down the feelings of heat starting to coil in her stomach. She was too physically attracted to Rachel, and she knew it was going to get her in trouble someday (if not that day).

Kissing Rachel one more time before pulling back, she grinned at the low, "Hi…" the smaller girl offered, blinking her eyes open after Santana's flingers trailed off her skin.

Feeling inordinately proud of herself, Santana arched an eyebrow. "How was class before Ms. Jacobs wanted to run to her booty call?"

Rachel made a face. Happily accepting the bottle of water Santana pulled from behind her seat with a, "Thank you," she opened it. "Though I cannot dispute your inference that Ms. Jacobs ended class early for a romantic rendezvous, that still does not excuse her failure in correcting Elizabeth's routine."

Watching her girlfriend take a sip of her water, wanting for it to be her own tongue instead of Rachel's licking a stray drop from her upper lip, Santana skillfully put a critical expression on her face. "Oh?" she asked, dropping her hand to the gearshift, curling her fingers and palm around it, "You're that unhappy to spend more time with me? Harsh, babe, harsh."

Rolling her eyes, Rachel slid a condensation cool hand over Santana's, "You know I'm not complaining about that."

Santana dipped her head to agree.

"But you also know…" Rachel paused enough to allow Santana to echo with, "I also know…"

Rachel's lips quirked up, and her dark eyes sparkled at her, "…How important ballet is to me."

"…How important ballet is to you." Full on smirking, Santana leaned over again to place a solid kiss to Rachel's grinning lips. "Right. I know that. See?" Santana pointed at herself as she pulled away, "The good girlfriend."

Rolling her eyes again, Rachel didn't lose her grin as she reached up and tugged Santana's head back down to kiss her thoroughly, tongue snaking out to slip between Santana's lips. "Best, only girlfriend."

Gasping, Santana found herself supporting herself with one hand on Rachel's thigh, the other rolling around the nape of her neck, fingers tugging at the tight ponytail she still had from class. "Mmm…. Babe," she whispered, trying to speak around an insistent tongue, the heat slamming back into her groin awfully – too – fast, "As much as I love me some… Mmm. Some backseat macks…"

Rachel's tongue suddenly disappeared, replaced with wet kisses getting pressed along her jaw line and up to one ear, sharp teeth nibbling at her earlobe before a breathy voice huskily whispered, "San, we aren't in the backseat."

"Duh," Santana grunted, finally succeeding in pulling Rachel's hair free, automatically twisting in her seat and pushing forward so her side didn't pinch as much as it had. In the process, the hand on Rachel's thigh slipped down, and Santana found herself pitching forward. Yelping before she could stop the embarrassing noise, she realized both she and her small girlfriend had caught her with the side of her face sliding down Rachel's chest. Freezing, ignoring the awkward strain on her muscles and happy she hadn't managed to pull Rachel's hair on her hand's frantic slamming downwards, Santana barely breathed as Rachel's fingers spread out around her shoulder and neck.

Pressed into Rachel's breast, the girl wearing one of Santana's baby doll tees she'd stolen sometime the month before, the fabric thin and soft, Santana almost moaned at the heat of Rachel's skin and the smell that was undoubtedly her: jasmine and vanilla and Rachel.

She could feel her girlfriend's heart pound.

Santana knew Rachel assumed she was sexually promiscuous. She had that reputation, after all, and she had been the one to tell Rachel to never say no. But Santana always said no. She'd given a few hand jobs, a few blow jobs, done everything but getting naked with Brittany (she knew her best friend wouldn't have had any problem with her, but Santana knew that that would be one secret the blonde would be hard pressed to keep; she wouldn't tell it on purpose, but sexual things tended to slip out quite regularly), and the longest relationship she'd had was with her hand.

But none of those things compared to what Rachel did to her.

Rachel's hands tensed, she let out a deep breath of air, and then she wrapped her arms around Santana's shoulders and upper chest. "Come here…" she whispered, shifting.

"Rache…?" Santana swallowed; awareness started rippling through her body. Pushing up, she breathed in raggedly as her lips brushed against the fabric of Rachel's shirt. Trying to straighten out in some way so her waist didn't pinch, she whimpered and surged forward, twisting as Rachel slammed their mouths together.

Santana barely had time to register Rachel's tongue plundering her mouth before she finally managed to brace against the passenger seat and stumble-push into position on her knees. Her left knee brushing against the gearshift, her opposite hand snaked behind the passenger seat headrest so she didn't press all her weight onto Rachel; dropping her mouth open and leaning onto her palm splayed in between Rachel's legs, Santana melted into Rachel's mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of her saliva and tongue and lips. Though they'd made out in her car before, it was normally in the backseat, and there was something about the cramped space and being forced to hold herself up while Rachel clutched and pushed up and into her as best she could that was ten times more titillating.

Presently, Santana realized that she was too turned on. Her specialty underwear was starting to feel too small, the pressure not exactly comfortable. Eyes flying open just as Rachel's teeth tugged at her bottom lip, Santana knew she needed to get out of there or stop this before she pushed Rachel and her seat back and started grinding into her.

Rachel moaned in consternation when Santana pulled back. "San…" she groaned, trying to tighten her arms around Santana's shoulders, "I… I need more."

Santana bit back her whimper. "Babe," she panted raggedly, doing all she could to shuffle backwards without her dress riding up even more or jumping forward again, "I know my kisses be damn amazing, but I – we! We gots to get…" Rachel's dark, hooded eyes stared at her, the girl panting through kiss-swollen lips. Her tongue slipped out, and Santana failed and surged forwards again, needing to be as close as she could without her throbbing giving itself away. Rachel's arms were instantly wrapped around her again, one suddenly sliding down to violently scrabble for the seat lever. Pulling it up, the weight of their combined bodies as Santana climbed on top of Rachel, pressing her palms against the seat back, reclined them.

Santana knew this was incredibly dangerous. Perched with her knees on either sides of Rachel's thighs, pressed in close between the car door and seatbelt buckle, feeling her dress tight around the middle of her thighs, she kept her back up even as she pressed her breasts solidly into Rachel's. Small, inquisitive hands slid up and down her back and hips, the heaving up and down of Rachel's chest conveying the exact same thing her deep, needy kisses did: it was their three month anniversary, and both girls knew something was going to happen that night.

"San," Rachel keened, gasping when Santana wrenched her mouth away to nip and suck at her neck, throwing her head back to give her more room to work with, "Wha – why does this feel so good?"

Rachel's skin tasted like burgeoning excitement. Trembling and growling at her girlfriend's words, "Because you feel so good," Santana trailed her fingers down Rachel's side, body singing at how solid and soft and real Rachel was to the touch. "Oh god… I love touching you. Do you have any idea how you feel?"

Rachel tugged her head back up, trying to draw her closer so she could land kisses across her cheeks, brushing her hair aside. "No… Why don't you… Mmm, why don't you show me?"

"I want to," Santana panted, closing her eyes before meeting Rachel's lips again, and again, and again some more. She felt like a typical teenage boy, and the roiling pressure of her erection continuing to grow was getting incredibly painful. But she wanted more kisses. She wanted more contact. She wanted to lick the sweat she could see shining on Rachel's skin. She wanted to push up her shirt and feel her breasts, make the smaller girl gasp and arch up into her. She wanted to dip her fingers into Rachel's shorts, slide down her skin and lower still to where Rachel trembled and grew wet for her – Rachel's fingernails cut into the back of her neck, the girl letting out the sexiest moan Santana had ever heard. It took her a moment to realize that her hand was covering Rachel's breast, able to feel her thumb brushing over a pebbled nipple even through her shirt and bra. Eyes flying up to meet Rachel's, opening her mouth to say something – anything – she almost stopped breathing when Rachel licked her lips, closed her eyes, and used her own hand to keep Santana where she was.

"Rache…" she breathed, far past aroused and now into aching pulsing in time with her heartbeat. "Rache, I – Babe." Hunching forward, she barely caught herself from wrapping her free arm around a small waist and snapping Rachel up into her. Instead, slowly bending forward to press her forehead into Rachel's, she looked past her nose, Rachel's nose, down to where hitched breathing filled her hand. "You…"

Rachel trembled. Tensing her fingers, pushing Santana more firmly against her, she let out a deep breath. "Santana…"

Santana kissed her, drinking in her whimper as she slowly rolled her palm up. She wasn't sure she'd be able to keep any semblance of control if she could hear Rachel's reaction, and she was barely in control as it was. Rachel's nipple was hard and amazing and the feel of it traveled from her palm to the source of her throbbing, and oh god, she wanted to feel Rachel without the barrier of fabric so she could lean down and suck it into her mouth, lightly bite down and swirl it around with her tongue.

Rachel's breathing had picked up even more, the hand behind her neck sliding up to push her head closer, smashing their lips together. Her other hand rode on the back of Santana's, trembling and clutching with each new wave of sensation she was experiencing.

"God… Babe," Santana said between ragged breaths and deep, wet kisses full of tongue and lips and whispered moans, "What… How does this feel? Is this okay?"

"So okay," Rachel managed, staring up at her with dark, lidded, dilated eyes that Santana had never seen before. "Please, Santana – more."

Santana almost came when Rachel pulled her hand down. Before the thought that maybe she was going to lead her between her legs fully formed, Santana's fingers and palm were gliding up Rachel's naked abs, nudging up against a supple, full bra. Without hesitating, Rachel arched her back, tightened her hold on Santana's hand, and pushed up the bra.

Exquisite softness filled her hand.

Gasping, Santana froze, her eyes flicking rapidly between Rachel's eyes to their hands under her shirt, groaning and hardening even further at the overload of all her senses. One touch, and she knew it'd be all over.

Sudden, loud, forceful knocking against the window nearest Santana's head made her jerk back so fast she almost overbalanced backwards. Instead, snapping her head over to stare out the window, one of her flailing hands managed to catch the side of the seat, the hand under Rachel's shirt getting jerked back in record time; even with her heart pounding out of her ribcage, her body hot with terror, Santana hoped she hadn't hurt Rachel.

For her part, Rachel was frozen in fear, the legs between Santana's knees vibrating with the strain of abrupt and violent locking of muscles. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," she squeaked, eyes clenched shut, "Is it the police? Oh my god, oh my god, I don't want to go to jail."

As soon as she registered who was standing outside of the car, relief followed by red hot rage thundered through Santana's body. "Oh my god, you fucker! You asshole!" Scrambling to get the door open as fast as she could, Santana almost fell out, "What the hell, Puck? God dammit, stand still so I can hit you with the damn door!"

Go down. Down!

Barely paying attention to the awkward silence in the car, Santana grit her teeth as she concentrated on getting rid of her damn erection. It hadn't faded. At all. Okay, maybe a little in the immediate aftermath of Puck interrupting her and Rachel, but as soon as she had gotten done kicking his ass (literally) and climbed back into her car with a muttered, "Fine," to his request for a ride – and even then, that was only after Rachel, her face a weird mixture of glowing red and pale white, quietly pointed out that Puck's house was on the way to Santana's, Santana not bothering to tell her that they were going out to eat – she realized that she was still painfully hard. And the more she tried to get it to go away, the more it told her she needed to take care of it physically.

"So…" Puck cleared his throat, a smug smirk crossing his face as he leaned back against the backseat, arms slung casually on the seat back, "What does that make it? Five times that I've caught you sexing it up?"

Santana narrowed her eyes at him through the rearview mirror. "Something like that," she answered noncommittally, all the while doing her best to not think about how far she'd just gotten with Rachel not ten minutes before.

"Let's see…" As if he was ticking off a mental list, Puck looked up at the ceiling, "The choir room – twice, the janitor's closet – once, oh yeah, the girl's locker room that one time, nice…" Ignoring Rachel's disgusted snort, he continued on, "Today, of course, so that makes five, but… Am I forgetting anything?"

As if Santana would tell him if he was – which he was. But he'd been drunk those two times at Brittany's house and that one time at her own house, as well as the three times in one night at his house that had happened just earlier that week. Of course, none of those had involved hands under clothing, which made this all that much worse.

Rachel seemed to be on the same page as her. "Noah, I would certainly not tell you. Now, can we please talk about something else?" She still sounded embarrassed, her words clipped and, Santana could see out of the corner of her eye, her hands were clasped tightly in her lap – her lap, oh god.

Fuck.

What was she? A teenage boy? Go down! At this rate, she'd have to ask Puck if she could use his restroom. And no matter how icky that thought was, it was better than the alternative, right?

Of course, the best alternative would be to have sex with Rachel –

Sue Sylvester and Mr. Schuester mud wrestling in bikinis!

Though that image seemed like it might work, Santana's traitorous mind supplied her the memory of how Rachel's breast felt in her hand. She stifled her moan, shifting as the continuous throbbing spiked.

The motion of Puck leaning forward to talk directly at Rachel distracted her, and she allowed herself to let out a breath of air, trying to ease the tightness in her chest.

"Hey. Rachel, my fellow hot Jew, you gotten farther with her than I did, yet?"

No! Panic building, Santana scrambled to stop what was happening.

"What?" The word coming out startled in her shock, Rachel blinked at Puck in disbelief.

"Yeah, have you fu–"

"Puckerman!" Santana barked, throwing her head back to glare at him. Clenching her jaw, she ground out, "Shut. Up."

Rachel blinked owlishly again, plump lips parting as her mouth dropped open. "No, no, wait. You two haven't – you didn't – ?"

Oh god, this wasn't how Santana wanted Rachel to find out. Shit.

Fact was, Santana'd let Rachel believe she was the big slut her reputation said she was. She'd been planning on telling her, but Rachel had smiled up at her with shining eyes, thanking her so sincerely, so touched that Santana understood she wasn't ready for sex yet. After all, Santana was so worldly and experienced that the fact that she wasn't expecting or going to push anything made Rachel really sure that Santana cared for her.

"But I thought…"

Rushing to come up with something – anything – Santana quickly interjected, "We'll talk about this later."

"Wait…" Looking back and forth between her and Rachel, Puck's eyebrows rocketed up to the top of his forehead. "She doesn't know we've never fucked?"

Dammit, they were still a ways away from Puck's house. She glared out the windshield, not wanting to look over and see the expression on Rachel's face. "It's none of your business," she managed stiffly.

Puck shook his head. "No, no, no, hold up. Damn, if I had known, I'd have told her just to get her off my back when she was worried you were cheating with me. When she wants to be, your girl can be one freaky ass stalker chick – "

Santana slammed on her breaks. "What?" Ignoring the blaring horns from behind her, she stared at Rachel sinking in her seat, looking everywhere but at her. Wha-what? "You thought I – ? With Puck?" Her voice came out strangled.

Santana and Rachel's breathing was loud in the ringing silence, Puck seemingly holding his breath as he realized he'd just revealed something previously completely unknown. When it looked like Rachel wasn't going to answer, Santana's anger flared. "Talk."

Rachel jerked in her seat. Her voice was quiet but still high, her words thick as she made to take Santana's hand before hesitating a hair's breadth away and dropping it back onto her lap, "It – It was right after we started dating." Licking her lips, Rachel paused to look up at Santana with misty brown eyes, the expression on her face making the ill feeling blossoming in Santana's chest worse. "I just got self conscious – I mean, you were Santana Lopez and you were dating me? Me? And then you were still hanging out with Puck a lot and I just…" She trailed off.

Santana couldn't let it go. "Rachel." Her girlfriend's name came out sharp and cutting, hurt and angry, but it didn't make Santana feel better.

Rachel swallowed, shaking her head. Clenching her eyes shut, she forced out, "For… For a little while I was convinced you were still… Being with Noah."

Santana's mind exploded.

Rachel thought she'd cheated on her. And hadn't even come to her with her suspicions, but gone straight to Puck. Did she think Santana would have lied, and thought it better not to talk to her at all? Yes, that hurt too, but –

The girl she'd fallen in love with had thought she'd cheated on her.

Instead of answering, Santana turned back to the windshield, her mask sliding into place. Letting her foot off the brake, she suddenly shot forward, almost clipping a car that had pulled beside her to pass. Ignoring the reckless maneuver and the frantic words coming from the seat next to her, she rocketed into the first parking spot she could find. Banging her fist down onto her seatbelt buckle, she slammed the car into park and jumped out, not bothering to turn it off. Quickly striding off down the sidewalk before Rachel's pleas would get through to her, Santana wrapped her jacket tighter around herself.

Trying to stop the tears from coming that had been threatening ever since Puck had revealed Rachel had thought she had been cheating, Santana got some black humor from the fact that her erection had finally gone away.