Part IV: With the Sound of 'I Need You'

It's almost five o'clock, and Quinn is staring at the wall. The wall. Their bedroom wall—the one they've never painted over. She absently reaches out and traces her fingertips around the green infinity symbol, following the loopy script of Rachel's handwriting when she reaches the cursive love. A wistful smile curves her lips as she remembers that first morning they'd spent together in their apartment. She sighs raggedly and sits on the edge of their bed, staring out the window instead. The afternoon sun is sinking lower on the horizon, and it won't be much longer before night falls. Despite another message from Rachel that promised they'd talk when she gets home, Quinn still has no idea where her girlfriend is or when she's coming back.

The first hour after their argument had seen Quinn sniffling on the sofa and forlornly playing with Oliver's ears as he'd slept on her lap without a care in the world. The second had been spent banging around the dirty skillet, coffee pot, dishes, and mugs that had been left from their breakfast while she'd scrubbed harshly at the residue on them and bitched about Rachel's diva antics. The third hour had involved a quick trip to the local D'Agostino grocer to buy the ingredients for Rachel's favorite avocado pesto primavera and a suitably passable bouquet of red and white roses to make amends. The fourth hour was when Santana had finally responded to Quinn's frantic text messages, asking if she'd seen or heard from Rachel at all today, with an unapologetic; what the fuck did you do?

The response was enough to let her know that Rachel hadn't contacted Santana, which meant she was probably with Kurt, who hadn't bothered to return any of Quinn's messages. She hadn't been in the mood to be cursed out for her stupid, insensitivity in two languages, so she'd only texted back that they'd run into Sarah, leaving Santana to assume that it hadn't gone as well as it could have—the understatement of the year. Less than a minute later, her phone had blasted with "Evil Woman," and she'd answered with a wary, "Hello."

"Puta, tell me you did not just do something incredibly fucking stupid like go all Flashback Barbie with Sarah McSnooze from Saugatuck instead of kicking her ass back to Kalamazoo."

"She's from Fennville," Quinn muttered.

"Like I give a fuck! " Santana snapped harshly. "And neither should you. Is that why you can't find your girlfriend? Because you got all sappy-nostalgic with your ex, and Berry Short Temper got fed up with your bullshit? Idiota!"

"God, Santana, I don't need you to tell me that I fucked up!" Quinn shouted, a fresh wave of tears causing her voice to crack and tremble.

"Ay, dios," Santana grumbled through the phone before sighing heavily. "Calm your tits, Q. Rachel will forgive you like she always does, because for some unknown reason, she imprinted on you back in high school even before she went all clingy in love with your too-fine-for-a-white-girl ass, and you know you're never shaking her off your leg now. Look, I've only got, like, a twenty-minute break here. Give me the abbreviated version of what happened, and I'll tell you how expensive you need to go with the bling."

It was her talk with Santana that forced Quinn to fully acknowledge how deeply she'd probably hurt Rachel. She hadn't considered Rachel's thoughts or feelings at all when they'd seen Sarah this morning, and there was no excuse for it. And God—Rachel had been so much sweeter than she'd deserved, trying to comfort her, and then defend her, and still caring enough to look after her well-being even when Quinn was certain that she'd probably entertained the notion of pushing her down those stairs at least once. Rachel hasn't lost her over-dramatic flair. Quinn never wants her to, despite how much easier it would make her life, especially in moments like this.

So now here she is, alone in their bedroom after slowly pacing around the apartment that she shares with the love of her life and pausing at every reminder of Rachel as she mentally writes and rewrites a suitable apology. The shock of seeing Sarah again has faded, replaced completely by the longing to see Rachel—to hold her, kiss her, and shower her with love and affection. Quinn has done that almost everyday for years, to the point where she'd been absolutely, unshakably certain that Rachel could never doubt her heart or her fidelity. But maybe it hasn't been enough.

The possibility pains her more than she can say. She's tried so hard to shake off the mistakes of her youth and become someone that her partner—that Rachel—can trust wholeheartedly. She can't bear to think that she might have broken that trust.

Well, this just isn't happening, Quinn decides stubbornly. She hasn't waited this long to get everything she's ever wanted—well, almost everything, but there's still plenty of time for a more permanent, diamond-shaped commitment—only to let it fall apart now. When Rachel comes home, they're going to sit down and talk this out like the rational adults they (mostly) are until Rachel forgives her, and then they can put this whole unpleasant situation behind them and have a nice dinner. She should probably think about getting the pesto sauce started actually. She refuses to consider the possibility that Rachel won't come home at all tonight. She'd promised Quinn that she would, after all, and they've never had an argument serious enough for either of them to abandon their shared apartment completely. Before they'd moved in together, they'd spent some nights apart thanks to their occasionally combative temperaments, but these days, the farthest either of them makes it after a quarrel is the spare bedroom.

Quinn sighs tiredly and drags her fingers through her hair. She drops one hand to absently stroke along Oliver's side where he's stretched out on the mattress, having jumped up beside her as soon as she'd sat down, and her other hand checks for any messages on her phone for what must be the hundredth time today. Oliver jerks beneath her touch, rolling his body into an alert posture as his head comes up and his ears tilt forward over widened eyes. Quinn holds her breath, imagining that her own posture probably mimics the cat, until he lurches off the bed and makes a break for the front door just a few heartbeats before Quinn hears the key in the lock. There's a frantic moment when she can't decide whether to race after him and meet Rachel at the door or play it cool and stay in the bedroom for a minute longer, but in the end, her body makes the decision.

Rachel looks frustratingly calm and unfazed when she walks into the apartment, tossing her keys onto the entry table and greeting Oliver softly while he rubs insistently against her legs and chirps his happiness that she's home. Quinn wrings her hands and slowly shifts her weight back and forth as she gazes at her girlfriend. Rachel looks at her with a stony expression, but Quinn can see the lingering redness in her eyes, and she reels at the evidence that Rachel has likely shed as many tears as she has. God, she hates it when they fight.

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispers.

She watches Rachel's throat muscles work as she swallows and purses her lips. Her gaze slips away from Quinn and catches on the roses, carefully arranged in a vase on the table. "You bought flowers," Rachel states flatly.

Quinn nods and forces a contrite smile. "And I'm planning to make your favorite dinner."

Rachel makes a sound that's trapped between a whimper and huff before she turns on her heel and paces across the room, stopping to stand in front of the window with hunched shoulders and a bowed head. Quinn feels a lead weight drop into her stomach. She'd been hoping for a more receptive response.

"Rachel, sweetheart," she offers hesitantly as she approaches.

Rachel inhales deeply, her body shaking visibly with the motion before she turns to Quinn with glistening eyes. "Are you still in love with her?" she asks unsteadily.

Quinn doesn't have to ask who Rachel is talking about, but the blunt question still takes her by surprise, just enough to have a startled, "What?" slipping from her lips before she rushes to say, "Oh, Rachel, no."

She supposes that answers her question as to whether Rachel could ever doubt her love, and it feels like her girlfriend just reached inside her chest and ripped out her heart. She wants to cry. She wants to scream at Rachel and demand to know why she suddenly stopped trusting her. But when she sees the fearful uncertainty written all over Rachel's expression, she realizes that her girlfriend is feeling much the same way—has been feeling this way since they'd seen Sarah again.

"I'm in love with you," Quinn vows, the words as natural and vital as the air in her lungs. "Totally and completely." She takes a cautious step forward, brushing a stray curl from Rachel's cheek before she trails the backs of her fingers along her jaw and determinedly catches her gaze. "I've loved you since high school in one way or another."

Rachel exhales shakily, searching Quinn's eyes to see the truth of her words. "But you loved her too. She made you happy," she reminds her meekly.

Quinn's eyelids flutter, and she shakes her head in dismay, dropping her hand limply to her side. Yes, she'd once loved Sarah—had even imagined being able to build a life with her, one where they'd live in New York and occasionally spend an afternoon or an evening in the company of Rachel and whatever man was lucky enough to claim her heart. And Quinn had also imagined being truly and completely happy and no longer feeling that little ache inside of her whenever she thought about Rachel finding her own happiness with someone else. All those things that Quinn hasn't needed to imagine since Rachel had first said those words that she'd waited forever to hear.

"You make me happy, Rach," she swears fervently, holding Rachel's gaze captive with the intensity of her own. "The last few years have been the happiest of my life. God, I'm so sorry that I made you question that for even one minute," she apologizes again. Remorse stings behind her eyes until it escapes in a chaotic trail over her cheek. "I don't even know exactly why I acted the way I did today, but it wasn't about wanting Sarah back or wishing we were still together. Because I don't," she promises ardently. She doesn't want anyone else but Rachel for the rest of her life.

Rachel's lower lip is being worried thoughtfully between her teeth, and her posture is noticeably less defensive. Her arms are loosely resting across her stomach with her right thumb tracing a nervous circle over her left wrist. "It kind of…felt like you might," she finally admits in a hoarse whisper.

Quinn shakes her head in firm denial. "I only want you," she insists, brushing her fingertips along Rachel's arm until she can coax her hand into her own. Once she has it, she maneuvers Rachel into the nearby chair, sitting down across from her on the matching ottoman. "I love you," she says again, keeping Rachel's hand firmly between both of hers and relishing the softness of the skin beneath her touch.

"I love you too," Rachel murmurs before she sighs and drops her gaze to their joined hands. "You know, I do actually understand why you're upset that she's living in New York. I don't like it," she adds quickly, "but I understand it. What really hurt me is that you acted like I wasn't even there. Like...like you were ashamed of our relationship," she admits despondently.

Quinn's heart twists in silent horror, but now that the words are out there, she can see so clearly why Rachel might have felt that way. "I'm not," she swears passionately, lifting a hand to Rachel's cheek again and stroking it lightly with her thumb. "I'm so proud to be with you, Rachel. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. For so many reasons." She would shout it from the top of every building in the city if she weren't afraid of what that could mean to Rachel's blossoming career.

Rachel's lips curve slightly before she gently removes Quinn's hand from her face, brushing a soft kiss to her fingers before she lets go. "Then why didn't you want to tell Sarah that we're together?" she asks after a moment, her expression pensive again. "Why did you feel the need to apologize to her when you didn't do anything wrong?"

Quinn inhales sharply, letting go of Rachel's hand as she bows her head in shame. There's still a part of her that doesn't want to give voice to this—doesn't want to admit that she'd done so many things wrong in her relationship with Sarah.

"Because she was right, Rach. Sarah was right that I never got over you," she confesses quietly, looking up again to meet Rachel's curious gaze. It shouldn't be much of a revelation to her. Quinn had told her when they'd first confessed their feelings to one another that hers had been there since before college—that Rachel had always been in her heart even while she'd been doing her best to move on. She'd just never told Rachel that Sarah had known about those feelings or that Quinn had always attempted to play them off like they were nothing.

"When she and I first started dating, I…I'd told her that a big part of my sexual epiphany had involved a crush on a girl in high school that I'd never had any chance with because she was very straight and very taken." Quinn grins crookedly, rolling her eyes at how wrong she'd ended up being in the long run. Rachel smiles too, nodding in silent encouragement.

Quinn moistens her lips before she continues. "The first time Sarah met you, she...she knew it was you," she reveals meaningfully, never looking away from Rachel's steady gaze. "I never told her, but she figured it out just from watching us together…from watching me. I promised her that I was over it…that you were only my friend…but the truth is," she pauses, drawing a breath and holding on to both of Rachel's hands, "even though I thought I was over you enough to move on, there was still this moment, every single time I'd see you again, when I'd stop and wonder what could have happened with us if you'd ever returned my feelings."

"Oh, Quinn," Rachel breathes sympathetically, inching forward to the edge of her chair and dragging their joined hands further into her lap.

"It was so easy to fall back in love with you," Quinn admits with a smile. "It only took a couple of months of living here, seeing you all the time, to be right back where I was before," she hesitates, smile slipping away, "before I met Sarah. It's always been so much easier to blame her for using my move here as a convenient excuse to break up with me than it was to admit that maybe I actually gave her a real reason to think that we could never make it work…that I'd been lying to her as much as I had been to myself." Quinn shakes her head and chuckles ruefully. "If I was hesitant to tell her about us, it's only because I knew that she'd take our relationship as validation that she…she was always my second choice." Quinn does drop her eyes from Rachel's then, catching her lower lip with her teeth.

"Don't," Rachel demands forcefully, punctuating it with a little tug on her hands that pulls Quinn's attention back to her. "Don't you dare let Sarah Cartwright make you feel guilty for following your heart after she was stupid enough to let you go."

"I don't feel guilty about that part, Rach," Quinn assures her, "but I did care about her," she adds cautiously, watching Rachel pout a bit at the admission, "and I do feel badly that I probably hurt her today. And maybe I'm a little ashamed of how grateful I feel that she ended it when she did." She shuffles closer on the ottoman, as close to Rachel as the chair will allow, tangling their legs together in the space between them before she cups Rachel's cheek again. "Because it led me back to you."

Quinn watches Rachel's expression grow tender before she leans forward. "And I'm never letting you go," she whispers against Quinn's lips before brushing a soft kiss across them. "I'm keeping you forever," she promises, pulling back with a warm smile.

It's music to Quinn's ears. Forever with Rachel is exactly what she wants, and she can see it so clearly, touch it; taste it. She exhales in relief, grinning at Rachel. "Even when I'm a bitchy, emotional mess who forgets to tell you how much I love you?" she asks light-heartedly.

Rachel grins back at her, landing another quick kiss. "Especially then. You're my bitchy, emotional mess," she declares possessively, "and I'm yours. You show me everyday how much you love me in so many little ways." She sighs again, shrugging regretfully. "And maybe sometimes I forget that, with you, that means so much more than any words."

"The words are important too," Quinn reminds her, scratching her nails lightly over Rachel's denim-clad thighs. "I love you, Rachel. Only you. And I'm sorry that I hurt you."

"I forgive you," Rachel says with a soft smile, brushing Quinn's hair back from where it had fallen into her eye. "And I love you." The words chase away that final cloud that has been darkening Quinn's turbulent emotions since this morning. "I'm sorry for walking away from you earlier instead of just telling you exactly what was bothering me."

"I suppose storming out of taxi will make for an entertaining footnote in your memoir," Quinn muses.

"Well, yes," Rachel agrees easily, "but that's hardly the point. I was jealous," she admits with a frown. "The minute I saw Sarah today, I wanted to toss her over the balcony, for no other reason than that you used to be hers. That…may have influenced my own behavior in some regard," she concedes reluctantly.

Rachel's jealousy has never been hard for Quinn to forgive. She'd spent too many years caught up in her own jealousy and envious of everyone else who'd found himself to be the object of Rachel's occasionally obsessive affections. "I forgive you," Quinn assures her, stealing a kiss from pouting lips that's neither brief nor particularly soft. Rachel moans appreciatively, opening her mouth to Quinn's teasing tongue and tangling her fingers into blonde hair before she slides off the chair completely, practically crawling into Quinn's lap. Quinn welcomes her happily. The only thing she doesn't hate about fighting with Rachel is making up with Rachel.

"I really wanted to push her off that balcony," Rachel murmurs unexpectedly, breaking the kiss.

Quinn laughs, adjusting her hold on Rachel's hips in an effort to get more comfortable. Her leg and lower back aren't really appreciating the awkward position they're in right now, but she's been wanting to hold Rachel like this all day, and she's not about to say or do anything to make her move away. "It's good that you didn't."

Rachel runs her tongue over her lips invitingly. "I also really wanted to jump on top of you," she drawls in smoky tones, lifting her body up just enough to reposition her legs, "and stake my claim," she slides down sensuously until she's fully straddling Quinn, "so your ex-girlfriend knows that she never gets to touch you ever again," she finishes as she threads her fingers back into Quinn's hair.

Quinn groans in a strangled mix of pleasure and pain. "B-but you…you didn't," she gasps.

"But I'm going to now," Rachel husks wickedly.

Her hungry mouth devours the protest that had been forming on the tip of Quinn's tongue. She wants Rachel—God, does she want her!—but Quinn also wants to be the one worshiping and adoring and thoroughly reminding Rachel that she's the only woman for Quinn, preferably in their bed. But Rachel doesn't seem to be in the mood for slow and gentle as evidenced by the rough drag of blunt nails against Quinn's scalp.

Quinn shifts beneath her, attempting to slide them back further on the ottoman as she curls her own fingers into Rachel's ass and pulls her tight. The ache in her back and leg are forgotten in favor of a far more pleasurable one. Rachel rolls her hips needfully, tugging at Quinn's hair as she catches her lower lip between gentle teeth before letting it go with a satisfied grin. Quinn groans again, chasing Rachel's delectable mouth, but the fists still wound into her hair stop her short. "Rachel," she whines.

The grin transforms into a smirk. "That's right, baby," Rachel purrs. "You just keep saying that name." She scratches lightly at nape of Quinn's neck with one hand, sending shivers down her spine and fire through her blood. "By the time I'm done with you, it's the only one you'll remember."

Quinn closes her eyes and grunts out a guttural, "Fuck."

"Oh, we're going to," Rachel promises with a glint in her eyes, rocking gently on her lap as she dips her head to claim another lustful kiss. She slips her fingers out of Quinn's hair and scrapes them all the way down her back on a greedy path until they catch on the hem of her shirt, twisting into the material and dragging it up insistently.

Quinn groans again, falling headfirst into the passion that always sparks so easily between them. She releases her grip on Rachel's ass and leans back enough to allow her persistent girlfriend to drag the soft cotton up over her head. Rachel tosses it away carelessly before her hands are feathering over every naked curve that's exposed, and her lips wreak havoc at the base of Quinn's neck, nibbling at the sweet spot where it meets her shoulder so deliciously that Quinn can feel it all the way to her center. Her hands wind into Rachel's hair to urge her on as her head tips to the side.

"Your mouth is heaven," she mumbles and feels Rachel smile against her skin.

That mouth moves swiftly to her ear and whispers, "Just wait," making Quinn shudder in pleasure even as Rachel's fingers easily unhook her bra and urge the straps off her shoulders. Quinn lets her strip it away, resting her hands on Rachel's hips as she watches dark eyes caress her breasts before eager fingers join them to tease her already stiff nipples with expert strokes.

Quinn hisses in approval, reaching up to curl a palm around the back of Rachel's neck and pull her down into another torrid kiss. Once those heavenly lips are sufficiently imprisoned by her own, Quinn drags her own hands over Rachel's blouse, ripping sloppily at the buttons until one actually does pop loose and skitter across the floor. Distantly, she hears Oliver, who had been watching them warily from his perch on the sofa, jump down with a predatory mewl and bound after the button with playful enthusiasm.

Rachel's teeth tug roughly at Quinn's lower lip before she pulls back just far enough to growl, "You're sewing that back on."

Quinn smirks rakishly, arching an eyebrow. "You want me to do it now?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Priorities, Quinn," she grunts, removing her glorious touch from Quinn's breasts only to grip the open edges of her shirt and jerk it off her shoulders. Quinn helps her shrug it off completely before grabbing her hands and guiding them back to her aching breasts. Rachel grins approvingly. "That's more like it."

Quinn smiles, leaning in for another kiss and fully intending to bare Rachel's gorgeous breasts to her own eager hands, but Rachel evades her. Quinn's whimpering protest turns into a moan when Rachel devilishly scrapes her nails over budded nipples before trailing a path down her ribs and belly. She gracefully slips off Quinn's lap and onto the floor, urging Quinn's legs apart so she can kneel between them. And then her lips close over Quinn's left nipple, and Quinn hisses an eager, "Yes," as she buries her fingers into Rachel's hair again, arching into the beautiful mouth and skilled tongue that set her body on fire.

Rachel really doesn't need to worry about Quinn wanting anyone else. In moments like this, no one and nothing else exists for her. Only Rachel. Always Rachel.

Quinn hooks her legs around Rachel's waist, wishing there was nothing between them now, and rakes her nails down Rachel's back, stopping to open her bra and pull it loose. She leaves it to hang off her shoulders before maneuvering her arms between their bodies to press her palms against her girlfriend's, "Perfect fucking tits."

Rachel chuckles against her breast, closing her teeth around the nipple in her mouth and pulling lightly before she lets go. "Magna cum laud from Yale with an degree in English," she tisks, licking Quinn's nipple for good measure before she looks up, "and that's how you sweet-talk me?"

Quinn groans and rocks forward, catching Rachel's mouth with her own as she worships the flesh in her hands. After a moment, she softens the kiss until she's barely touching Rachel's lips. "Her breast is fit for pearls, but I was not a diver." She feels and hears Rachel inhale sharply before she moans quietly, and Quinn smiles, pulling back far enough to gaze into dark, hooded eyes. "Her brow is fit for thrones, but I have not a crest," Quinn continues, ghosting a brief kiss over Rachel's forehead. "Her heart is fit for home," she whispers, pressing a warm palm between Rachel's breasts, over her pounding heart. "I, a Sparrow, build there, sweet of twigs and twine. My perennial nest.¹"

Rachel's hands scrabble for position on Quinn's waist as she shudders, eyelids fluttering closed on a gasp of pleasure. "You need to be naked," she growls, focusing a heated gaze on Quinn. "Right now," she demands, tugging mindlessly at the button of Quinn's khaki Capris. Her bra, still hanging off her body, slips down her arms to delay her, and she growls again, tearing it off and carelessly throwing it away before attacking Quinn's zipper.

Quinn's breath catches at the fierce look in Rachel's eyes, and she plants her feet on the floor and her hands on the ottoman, lifting her hips to allow her girlfriend to pull her pants and panties down in one fluid motion. Then Rachel is back between her legs, tugging her hips forward and peppering fevered kisses to her chest and breasts. She urges Quinn's legs back around her waist before she sneaks a hand between their bodies, finding Quinn's clit and caressing it with her fingertips.

"Fuck," Quinn grunts, falling back slightly and planting a palm behind her to hold her weight. Her lower back screams in protest, but the intense pleasure building beneath Rachel's touch is enough to ignore the discomfort. Her other hand buries itself back into Rachel's hair, pressing her closer. "Fuck, Rachel, please," she whines as she rocks her hips into Rachel's skilled hand.

"I love you so much," Rachel breathes into her skin reverently. "Let me show you. Let me love you," she pleads, dragging her mouth lower.

Quinn whimpers again as the words explode inside of her, warming her heart and pumping flames into every molecule of her body. Her belly tightens, and she shifts restlessly on the ottoman, craving everything Rachel wants to give—craving Rachel. "Love me, Rachel," Quinn urges. "I'm yours," she vows, bracing herself when Rachel responds with a moan of approval and sure fingers that push her closer to the pinnacle with every stroke.

Rachel sinks down lower on her knees, spreading Quinn's legs wider before bowing her back and pressing a wet kiss low on Quinn's belly, just above where Quinn needs her most. Quinn hisses and jerks her hips, letting go of her grip on silky, dark hair because she needs both arms to support herself when Rachel swiftly replaces her fingers with her tongue.

"Oh, God, yes," she hisses, feeling her world sharpen on that one spot where Rachel's mouth is driving her wild. Her head falls back in ecstasy, and her gaze grows fuzzy on the ceiling while her body coils tighter. Her back aches, her arms are shaking, and her legs strain and tremble, but she's helpless to do anything but ride it out as she races closer to orgasm.

Rachel hooks one arm around Quinn's thigh to hold her open while kneading into the muscles there, and she tilts her head, lapping through Quinn's folds and teasing her entrance with shallow thrusts of her tongue. Quinn rolls her hips, searching desperately for the precipice while senseless moans and whimpers tumble from her lips. Rachel reaches up, seamlessly rolling Quinn's nipple between her fingers as she worships her clit.

Quinn gasps out a strangled, "Rach...el."

Rachel hums wickedly against her over-sensitized flesh, sending vibrations of the most exquisite pleasure zinging though Quinn like lightening. Her body arches hard against that extremely talented tongue, snapping the coil inside of her until she shatters into tiny shards of wondrous exaltation, and she cries out her release. Rachel's mouth softens against her, drawing out her climax as much as she can before bringing her back down gently.

Quinn's body jerks and shivers, her muscles going lax as she slips down on useless arms. For a moment, she expects to fall back off the ottoman into a boneless mess on the floor, but Rachel somehow catches her around her upper back—she's a lot quicker and stronger than anyone would expect—and pulls her back up with a breathless grunt. Quinn has just enough strength to loop her arms around Rachel's shoulders and collapse into her, panting heavily.

Rachel holds her close, rubbing gentle circles over her sweaty back and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "You're so beautiful when you come for me," she murmurs.

Quinn chuckles languidly. "Only then?"

Rachel hugs her closer. "You're always beautiful," she whispers, lifting a hand to comb lazy fingers through Quinn's hair. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world."

Quinn shakes her head against Rachel's shoulder. "Second luckiest," she protests. "I think I win this one, sweetheart."

Rachel chuckles quietly. "We'll call it a draw then."

"Always a competition with you," Quinn says with a fond smile, finding the energy to sit up and look into Rachel's amused eyes. "But I wouldn't have you any other way." She brushes a tender kiss over those luscious lips. "I really love you, Rachel."

Rachel's tranquil expression grows more serious. "I'm sorry I ever doubted it for even a second."

"Enough of that," Quinn insists, tired of the apologies and eager to leave today's unpleasantness in the past. She doesn't want to waste anymore time punishing herself or Rachel for silly fears and insecurities that they've mostly worked through just because of one temporary setback that they both clearly regret. "We have more important matters to attend to. Preferably in a bed," she drawls suggestively.

Rachel's lips quirk into a crooked grin. "I think my knees agree with you."

"Your knees and my back," Quinn says unthinkingly, dropping one hand to rub at her aching muscles.

Rachel's eyes widen in alarm, and she gasps. "Quinn! Why didn't you say something?" she demands, pressing her own palms to Quinn's back in concern.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "It's fine, Rach. Just a minor annoyance." Rachel studies her worriedly, biting into her lip, and Quinn smiles gently and brushes back her hair with loving fingers. "I promise. Now let me take you to bed."

Rachel shakes her head in exasperation. "You," she stresses, "are going to rest." She pushes herself up from the floor with a muted grunt, holding out her hands for Quinn to take.

Quinn frowns up at her. "I don't need rest," she grumbles stubbornly, but she does place her hands into Rachel's open palms and allows her girlfriend help her stand—albeit a little shakily. She covers it easily, ignoring Rachel's suspicious gaze and leaning into her to press their naked chests together enticingly. "I need you."

Rachel moans, eyelids fluttering before she wraps her arms around Quinn and places a kiss her collarbone. "I need you too," she echoes, lifting soft eyes to Quinn's face. "But not at the expense of your well-being."

Quinn scoffs, trailing her hands down Rachel's back and cupping her denim covered behind—it's really a shame that she isn't completely naked yet. "Just because I can't actually carry you to the bed right now doesn't mean I'm not perfectly capable of ravishing you once we're there." She dips her head and kisses her girlfriend deeply, savoring the way Rachel melts into her like she wants to crawl inside her skin. Quinn pulls back with sexy smirk. "Let me have my wicked way with you, Rachel," she prompts, pressing their hips closer.

Rachel's face is so beautifully conflicted. Quinn can see the concern lingering there, but at the same time, she knows just how aroused Rachel is right now. "If you're certain that you're not in too much pain," she trails off hopefully.

"Oh, sweetie, pain is the furthest thing from what I'm feeling right now," Quinn assures her.

Rachel smiles again, nodding slightly and pecking Quinn's lips before stepping out of her embrace. She takes Quinn's hand and lazily guides her toward their bedroom. Quinn quickly snags a single red rose from the vase before she dutifully follows Rachel, tracing her gaze lovingly over the naked elegance of her back where it meets the curve of her ass in those blue jeans. Rachel really should wear them more often. They're extremely flattering to her figure.

As they enter the bedroom, Quinn pulls her eyes away from Rachel's body to perform a cursory sweep for signs of the cat. He'd made himself scarce once they'd started tossing clothing around the living room, having learned from experience by this point that he doesn't really want to be around when his owners get frisky. She doesn't see him anywhere, so she lets go of Rachel's hand and closes the door behind them, not wanting any distractions.

She steps closer to Rachel before she has the chance to turn, slipping her arms around her from behind and pressing her breasts into Rachel's back in the most delightful way. She gently brushes the petals of the rose in her hand over Rachel's breasts, and Rachel leans into Quinn with a hum of pleasure as she strokes her fingers over Quinn's forearms where they rest against her body.

"Oh, my love is like a red, red rose that's newly sprung in June," Quinn murmurs, kissing Rachel's cheek while her free hand dips lower on Rachel's belly, fingertips teasing just beneath the waistline of her jeans. "Oh, my love is like the melody that's sweetly played in tune.²"

Rachel wantonly presses her ass back into Quinn's hips. "Are you trying to get into my pants?" she asks breathlessly.

"What gave me away?" Quinn teases, working Rachel's button open with a twist of her fingers and sliding down the zipper enough to slip her hand down farther. She moans in appreciation when she feels the incredible, wet heat that's waiting there just for her.

Rachel's hips jerk into her touch, and she hisses, digging her nails into Quinn's skin. "This isn't the bed," she protests half-heartedly. Quinn chuckles and nuzzles that spot just behind her ear that makes her shiver and gasp while her fingertips skate around Rachel's clit. "Quinn, baby, please," Rachel groans, trying to keep her hand still. "This will be over really fast if you don't stop," she warns desperately.

Quinn takes pity on her, reluctantly dragging her hand away from where it wants to be and pressing a kiss to Rachel's shoulder. Rachel turns in her arms and drags her mouth down into a frantic kiss. Quinn blindly tosses the rose towards the mattress, uncertain if it makes its destination, before her hands are back inside Rachel's jeans, this time palming her ass. Rachel moans into her mouth, clinging to her shoulders as she stumbles backward until her legs hit the bed.

Quinn follows helplessly, unwilling to break their connection and only doing so when Rachel tears her mouth away with a frustrated growl. She clumsily pushes the denim down over her hips, tripping herself up enough with her eagerness to fall awkwardly onto the bed. Quinn laughs joyfully at the sight, feeling her heart swell with affection even as Rachel glares at her. Exhaling harshly, Rachel attempts to blow the hair out of her eyes as she props herself up on her elbows. "You could give me a hand here."

Quinn attempts to stifle her laughter, grinning wickedly. "I was trying to before but you told me to stop."

"Quinn," Rachel whines, lifting her legs up plaintively in a silent request for Quinn to help her.

Quinn snickers but tugs off Rachel's flats before she grabs the bunched jeans at her knees and shimmies them the rest of the way off her body. "Scoot your adorable, little butt over," she orders, shooing Rachel into the middle of the bed before she crawls onto the mattress and kneels over her girlfriend.

Apparently, her aim with the rose had been pretty good, because Rachel somehow found it and has it between her fingers, breathing in its scent with a soft smile. "The roses really are lovely," she murmurs dreamily.

"You're lovely," Quinn tells her, running the backs of her fingernails over the inside of Rachel's calves on a slow journey up. Rachel lowers the rose to her chest, following Quinn's progress with dark, hungry eyes. "Every inch of you...from your exquisite legs," Quinn purrs, pausing to tug Rachel's lacy, blue panties down over those legs with careful patience. She forces herself to skip over the temptation of Rachel's glistening sex and quickly places an open palm over her stomach instead. "To your cute, little belly," she continues with a smirk as she lies down next to her girlfriend's hip and feathers a kiss over the quivering muscles beneath her touch.

"You missed something," Rachel complains breathlessly.

Quinn playfully swats her hip. "I'm not missing anything," she corrects, gazing up at Rachel's face with well-practiced sternness. "No interrupting my train of thought." Rachel's unruly giggles vibrate through them both, and Quinn sighs, "I guess I'll just have to start from the top."

"Oh, no," Rachel attempts to protest when Quinn pulls away and shimmies the rest of the way up the mattress to settle fully over her. She revels in the feeling of having their bodies pressed together so perfectly as she grins down at the woman she loves. She could happily stay here forever, in this bed—in this moment.

"Now where was I?" she wonders roguishly, tipping her head thoughtfully.

"Not here," Rachel grumbles good-humoredly, "but I suppose it will have to do." She loops her arms around Quinn's neck—the rose forgotten on the bed next to them for the time being—and pulls her down into a loving kiss.

Quinn smiles against her lips, nowhere near done with her sexy teasing. It's time for her to worship and adore, and she intends to take her time. "Your sweet lips," she murmurs. "Better than the finest chocolate."

Rachel giggles and drags her foot up the back of Quinn's leg. "Are you really doing this?" she questions with a grin.

"You're interrupting again," Quinn informs her dismissively before ducking her head down to nibble Rachel's neck.

Rachel groans, shifting restlessly beneath her. "You can be exceptionally maddening at times, Quinn Fabray."

"Your resilient loquaciousness," Quinn comments, sliding lower to trail her tongue over Rachel's clavicles.

Rachel scrapes her nails down Quinn's back. "You…you were supposed to say my elegant neck."

Quinn hums in muted agreement, flattening her tongue against the upper swells of Rachel's breasts and tasting the saltiness of her skin. She works her hand between their bodies to scrape her fingers over a hardened nipple, making Rachel inhale shakily. "Your amazing breath control," Quinn comments reverently. She's become very appreciative of that over the years.

Rachel exhales on an aroused chuckle. "And my perfect fucking tits?" she questions, threading her fingers into Quinn's hair and trying to urge her down just a little bit more.

Quinn pauses to flash her a cheeky grin. "Absolutely flawless," she agrees. "I might be here awhile," she cautions with a wink before she dips her head back down to give them the attention they deserve. Rachel had distracted her from fully enjoying them earlier.

Rachel moans and arches her back, rocking her hips against Quinn's stomach in an attempt to get some friction. Quinn loves the way Rachel moves beneath her—caught in a storm of mindless passion, demanding even in submission. The sounds that fall from her lips compose a wild symphony of pleasure, as discordant as it is musical. Quinn fucking loves it. She loves reducing Rachel to this mess of wanton need.

She showers attention on Rachel's breasts, alternating between them with her mouth and hands. Rachel bluntly scratches at her scalp and shoulders, whining, "Please, baby. I need you. I need you to make me come."

Quinn circles the tip of her tongue around the nipple in her mouth, deciding that maybe it's time to move this inventory of all of Rachel's lovely parts a little bit lower. One palm continues to play with Rachel's breast as she licks a path down her belly and across her abdominal muscles. "Your voluptuous hips," she says with a mischievous bite there.

"Damn it, Quinn," Rachel grunts, pushing at her shoulder with one hand. "You covered this part already."

"I believe that was your cute belly, and you made me lose my place again," she teases, moving halfway back up Rachel's body.

Rachel's eyes widen and she shakes her head frantically, trying to stop her. "Don't you fucking dare, Quinn. You get back down there right now!"

Quinn arches an eyebrow in subtle chastisement. "No. More. Interruptions," she commands, punctuating it with a gentle twist of Rachel's nipple.

Rachel arches her neck against the mattress, closing her eyes and moaning gutturally. "Whatever you want," she swears urgently. "Just…please. Please, take me," she begs.

Quinn grins triumphantly, sliding back down to give her lady what she needs. She breathes in the scent of Rachel's arousal as she presses a teasing kiss to the inside of her thigh. Rachel whimpers again, tugging at Quinn's hair insistently.

"Your unconcealed passion for me," Quinn notes proudly, admiring the beautiful feast spread out beneath her before finally allowing herself the taste she's been craving.

"God, yes! All for you," Rachel cries out, hips flying off the mattress at the first touch of Quinn's mouth against her center. Quinn presses her back down, moaning in delight at the heady flavor exploding on her tongue. She can feel Rachel's stomach muscles quivering again, and she realizes just how close to the edge her girlfriend is right now. She could so easily draw this out even more, building Rachel up only to calm her down again with feather light touches and poetry, but she can feel Rachel's need surging through her like an earthquake and wants to make her fall to pieces.

One of Rachel's hands is still tangled in Quinn's hair and the other is cupping her own breast and dragging the nipple between her fingers. Her entire body is moving in barely controlled frenzy, and the wonderful sounds of Rachel's delight fill the room. Quinn knows just how to turn up the volume, twisting her shoulders slightly to slide a hand between Rachel's legs and slip her fingers inside that incredible wetness. Rachel's walls tighten around Quinn immediately, and her body jerks. "Oh, fuck. Qui-inn," she keens, tugging the hair in her hands.

Quinn smiles against her, not minding the pain in the least and continuing to suckle her clit while she curls her fingers to find that spot that really makes Rachel sing. Rachel's body begins to quake as she pushes off the mattress and into Quinn's mouth and hand, crying out. Quinn flutters her fingers, spearing her tongue against the bud between her lips, and Rachel explodes, screaming out her name along with a chorus of I love yous.

When her body begins to relax, Quinn presses a kiss to the top of Rachel's thigh and gently frees her fingers, sucking them into her mouth out of habit to enjoy every last drop of Rachel's pleasure. Rachel shudders and gasps all over again, riding out the aftershocks of her orgasm. Quinn catches her flailing hand and entwines their fingers, slowly kissing her way up Rachel's sweat-soaked body. The hand in Quinn's hair slips free and cups the nape of her neck as she settles at Rachel's side with lips pressed to her still-racing pulse Quinn tangles their legs together on the mattress as Rachel hugs her weakly and attempts to even out her breathing. Quinn smiles against her heated skin, feeling content despite her own unsated desire.

"You...you weren't...ex...exaggerating...about...ravishing me," Rachel pants.

Quinn chuckles, brushing back Rachel's damp hair. "Loving you, Rach," she corrects softly. "I'm loving you."

Rachel smiles drowsily. "You're really good at it," she murmurs. "Someone should...give you an award."

"Someone already did," Quinn whispers fondly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I'm holding it right now." And she's never giving it back either. She'd won Rachel's heart fair and square. Any others that she might have collected over the years are only honorable mentions in comparison.

Rachel's smile widens, and she cuddles closer. "Are you trying to get into my pants again?"

Quinn bites back happy laughter, rubbing her thigh against Rachel's leg impishly. "You're not wearing any, sweetie," she reminds her, stroking her naked hip with lazy fingers.

Rachel trails her hand down Quinn's back and cups her ass. "Well, isn't that convenient?" she muses, eyes twinkling with renewed energy.

"Mmmhmm," Quinn hums in agreement, finding Rachel's mouth for a sensual kiss as their mutual passions spark and crackle to life once again.

Outside, the city comes alive with streetlights and neon, but inside their apartment, the night is ablaze with the promise of love, written with intimate strokes across one another's bodies as surely as it's written on the wall. All their past hurts fade into the shadows, and there's no one and nothing else but the two of them and their bright future together. Quinn is exactly where she belongs.

¹ "Her Breast Is Fit For Pearls," Emily Dickinson
² "A Red, Red Rose," Robert Burns