"Ugh! I'm never going to get this down. Maybe I should just give up."

Quinn glances up from his trigonometry homework. He's sitting on Rachel's bed, working on his homework while she practices for this week's glee assignment. They're doing a Whitney Houston tribute week, and Rachel had immediately started rehearsing the late singer's rendition of the national anthem. "I think you sound great."

Rachel's lips twitch up into a smile. "You're sweet, but I don't think anyone can ever really capture the sheer magnificence that was Whitney's rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner."

Quinn shrugs. He really does think she sounds fantastic, but again, he'd probably be happy to listen to her read a grocery list. She hums, sitting down at her desk to scroll through her music. "Well, there are plenty of other Whitney songs to choose from, maybe I can find something else."

"Mmm." Quinn glances back at his homework with a sigh. Math has never been one of his strongest subjects. It's one of Rachel's though, and after a while, he turns to his girlfriend to ask for help. She's intent on her sheet music though, and he closes his mouth, just looking at her. Her passion is one of things he loves about her, and watching her obsess over her music makes him smile. The sunlight from her window hits her just right, and he sits up, picking up the camera on Rachel's nightstand. He's been practicing with it since Hiram and Leroy had gifted it to him on his birthday, and the controls are already second nature after a weekend spent familiarizing himself with them. He aims it at Rachel, smiling as he focuses on her. She hasn't noticed him yet, still concentrating on her music sheets, and he takes the photo. The soft click of the shutter has her looking up, and she smiles indulgently.

"You're really turning into a shutterbug over there."

"Blame your dads, they got me the camera." He takes another photo, capturing her teasing smile. "Besides, I can't help it if I've got the perfect subject in front of me." He doesn't intend it to be as flirtatious as it comes out, but he's delighted when she flushes at the compliment. The shutter clicks again. "And you're going to be famous, so you need to get used to the paparazzi."

"Oh, so you're planning to be a paparazzo?" Rachel questions, standing up. "What happened to your big, grandiose plans to be a high-powered corporate attorney?"

"I can do both. Lawyer by day, shutterbug by night." He looks down to adjust a few settings on the camera. He really is enjoying playing around with it, enough to fleetingly wonder what a career in photography might be like. When he aims it back at her, he sees her moving toward him with a sway in her step that has his breath catching, and he lowers the camera just as she stops right in front of him. He looks up at her. "Hi."

She chuckles. "Hi." She leans in slowly, resting her hands lightly on his shoulders before she gives him a slow kiss. Quinn's brain immediately shorts out, and he tips his head up to kiss her back. He feels Rachel smile against his lips just before her tongue darts out to trace against the seam of his mouth. A moan escapes his throat, and his hands settle on Rachel's waist just as she climbs onto his lap. "Is this okay?"

"Mhmm." Her skirt is riding up sinfully high, and he lets his hands wander down to her thighs. He pulls back a little, breaking this kiss to look up at her appreciatively. "You know, I really like your skirts."

"I can tell," she says with a grin, before bring her lips back to kiss him thoroughly. It isn't long before they're both breathless, and Rachel draws back, leans her forehead against his. The temperature seems to have gone up at some point since they started making out, and Quinn tugs absently at the neckline of his shirt. He takes deep, gulping breaths, trying to slow down his racing heart.

Rachel's doing the same, and her breasts are heaving practically in front of his face, and Quinn can't help but look at the hint of cleavage showing just behind the button of her blouse. His mouth goes dry as he imagines seeing just what's underneath. They've had their hands up each other's shirts, but they haven't gotten around to actually taking clothes off yet, and the thought excites him immensely.

It also makes him nervous.

But then Rachel's lips are on him again, light and wet against his jaw, climbing up to his ear and God that feels amazing. He quickly forgets his nerves, and his breathing is erratic as she sucks lightly on his earlobe. Her chest is pressing against his and now he can feel her breasts and maybe they should turn up the air conditioning before he spontaneously combusts.

Rachel's mouth returns to his soon enough. Her fingers tangle in his hair, and when she tugs lightly, an electric tingle goes down his spine. But at the same time, a sharp spike of alarm goes off in his head, his muscles tensing. Before he can do anything about it, Rachel lets go, slowing them down until they're simply sharing short sweet kisses. Quinn's alarm fades, but he's also disappointed.

Rachel leans back, concern in her eyes. "Are you okay?" she asks, scooting back to put a little distance between them.

He nods, looks away. "Yeah," he says gruffly, a familiar ache building in his chest. "I'm fine." He's a little upset, but not in the way she probably thinks. He forces a smile. "I should really finish up this calculus homework."

"Okay." Rachel stands up, her hands on his shoulders for balance. She gives him a tentative smile. "Do you need any help?"

"Maybe later."

"Okay."

He heads home about an hour later, and he heads to the basement, needing to clear his head a little. He picks up his kickboxing gloves, giving them a once-over. They're getting a bit battered, and he should probably find a new pair soon, but they're still good and he straps them on, bouncing up and down as he throws a few mock punches at the punching bag.

He's still a little frustrated about this afternoon with Rachel, and yes, maybe part of it is sexual frustration, but that isn't the only thing on his mind. He wouldn't be upset if Rachel had stopped them because she was uncomfortable.

The issue was that she'd stopped because she knew he was uncomfortable.

They've talked about this before, how she sometimes treats him like a fragile china teacup. It's frustrating and humiliating and he lets some of his feelings out with several hard, satisfying smacks on the punching bag. He's the guy, he's supposed to be the one worrying about pushing Rachel too far, not the other way around. But it's not as if he can blame her, with the way he freezes and flinches in the middle of making out, and he hates himself for it. It's been happening more often lately, now that they're starting to grow bolder with the physical side of their relationship, and it frustrates him to no end. He's insanely attracted to her, and he wants to explore these feelings, these urges, but… well there's obviously something wrong with him, isn't there?

It's all very confusing, and he doesn't know how to deal with it. He throws a series of jabs at the bag and glances at the calendar pinned up on the wall. It's been four months since he and Rachel really started dating. Even with all his problems, he's still a teenage boy with an extremely attractive girlfriend, and everything he and Rachel have been doing right now is just enough to leave him very frustrated. He knows Rachel isn't being a tease, and they're both trying to keep things at a comfortable level (mostly for his sake). But when he and Rachel do things like they'd done this afternoon, he wishes extra hard that he doesn't have so much baggage to contend with.

When Quinn and Rachel enter the choir room a few days later, Rachel immediately goes to talk to the band. After giving up on the Star-Spangled Banner, she'd agreed to sing a duet with Santana. Quinn ambles over to sit beside Blaine. "Hey Blaine."

Blaine glances at him. "Hey."

The other boy is distracted, and Quinn follows his line of sight and sees Kurt on the other end of the risers, chatting with Mercedes. "Everything okay with you guys?" Quinn asks.

Blaine shifts his focus to Quinn, looking a bit worried. "Yeah, no, everything's fine. It's probably nothing."

Quinn studies him. "But it could be something?"

Blaine sighs. "I don't know. We've just… haven't been spending a lot of time together lately, that's all. All he wants to talk about is his NYADA audition and how he can't wait to go to New York. I don't know. Don't worry about it, it'll be fine."

Quinn blinks, wondering if he should press for more. He thinks Blaine's his friend, and he's a little concerned. It probably isn't any of his business though, but maybe he should offer… what, exactly? To listen?

Before he can say anything, Mr. Schue comes into the room then to start the glee session, and Rachel flits back to his side, slipping her hand into his as she sits next to him with a smile. He smiles back. "Ready for your song?"

"Definitely."

When Mr. Schue asks who wants to sing first, Rachel's hand is immediately in the air. Santana rolls her eyes but dutifully follows Rachel to the center of the room. Quinn's not entirely sure how this pairing had come about. He's still a little suspicious of Santana. Rachel's assure him that they've come to an understanding of sorts, but Quinn's not quite as forgiving as she is. Santana hasn't really bothered Rachel in a while though, and that's fine by him.

The music for Whitney's So Emotional starts up, and Santana starts them off. While he thinks Rachel's still the best, Quinn can't deny that Santana is a talented singer. Her dance moves are pretty suggestive (especially paired with the tiny skirt of her cheerleading uniform), and Quinn smiles slightly. He knows a lot of the boys in the school think she's sexy, and he can admit she's beautiful.

Then Rachel launches into the second verse, and he forgets all about Santana. Maybe it's the song, or maybe Rachel's doing it on purpose, but the way she's dancing around in the middle of the room… Quinn swallows thickly. Rachel has admitted that she doesn't always feel sexy, but right now, Quinn thinks she's completely crazy.

She's wearing a short red dress with a pleated skirt today, and every time she twirls, Quinn's brain grinds to a halt. He's not even really paying attention to the song anymore, because Rachel's doing this shimmying dance move and he can't quite breathe properly. He swallows again, already hot under the collar. The way she's moving is sinful, and a little unfair, and he can't drag his eyes away.

Rachel saunters over to him with a smirk, and Quinn just knows she's doing it on purpose. He can feel his pants start to tighten, and he takes a deep breath. Or he tries to, but then Rachel tilts her head just right, her big brown eyes dancing, and all the air just leaves his lungs.

The performance ends with a bang, and Quinn's almost forgotten that there are other people in the room. The other glee kids are cheering, and Rachel's hugging Santana (a very weird sight). Rachel lands back in her seat next to Quinn, and Quinn can't help but stare at her lips, feeling a desperate urge to kiss her right now.

"So did you like it?"

His eyes snap up at the question, and it takes him a couple of tries to string a sentence together. "Huh? Oh, yeah." His voice comes out a touch higher than it's supposed to, and Rachel grins. He clears his throat. "Yeah. It – it was great. I liked – I really liked it."

Rachel's grin widens, and she leans over to give him a kiss on the cheek. His breath catches at the touch of her lips on his skin, and he swallows, a stupid smile spreading across his face.

He's still a little (okay, a lot) worked up by the time they reach Rachel's house, and Quinn all but jumps her as soon they get into her room. She isn't exactly complaining, given that she's currently clutching him closer as Quinn crushes his lips against hers.

"You really liked the performance, didn't you?" she pants out between kisses.

Her tone is knowing and teasing at once, and he grunts. "You can't possibly be surprised."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The coy act is getting Quinn even more worked up, and he slips one hand under her dress. "Really? So your twirling and shimmying and all that, that's all just par for the course?"

Rachel hums, nipping lightly at his lower lip. "Maybe. But I suppose I can't deny I like the effect it has on you."

He huffs, leaves a trail of kisses down her neck, pausing at a spot he knows is particularly sensitive until she's squirming underneath him. He loves the sounds he can get out of her like this, quiet whimpers and breathy moans, and when he nips lightly at her collarbone, she bucks into him with a sharp squeak. "Okay?"

"O-oh – mhmm."

Bolstered, Quinn sprawls himself more completely on top of her, his lips trailing hotly down her chest. This is a lot more intense than they've gotten in a while, and when she arches up into him, her hips bump into his just right and he feels the sudden urge to rip that red dress off her. As it is, his hands slide higher up on her thighs, and her legs tighten around his hips. Quinn feels his pants grow a little tighter, and he takes a breath, his face buried in Rachel's chest. He can feel her heartbeat, every gasping breath going almost as fast as his.

He tilts his head after a moment, his lips nuzzling against Rachel's breast, and her breath hitches. Her dress is still on, so there's no real contact, but her bra and her dress aren't really doing much to hide her straining nipples, and Quinn closes his mouth over one. The fabric tastes a little strange, but he's rewarded by a low groan from Rachel. His thumb rubs idly at the skin on her thigh, and that's when Rachel suddenly flips them over, her legs straddling his waist, and he's left blinking up at her in surprise.

She leans in, her hair falling to one side, and she kisses him. "Okay?" she murmurs, her breath soft against his lips. A tiny part of him is uneasy at the position, but his incredibly sexy girlfriend is on top of him, and he's supposed to want this, right? And he does. He's mesmerized, and he nods speechlessly.

Rachel grins, crushes her lips against his again. He moans when her tongue dips into his mouth, and his hands come up of their own volition to cup her ass. She chuckles deeply, and she's so fucking warm on top of him that he can't even think.

Her breath control is naturally better than his, and by the time she finishes kissing him, he's completely out of breath. He's drowning in her scent and Quinn doesn't entirely know which way is up, but he tilts his head back as she kisses down his neck, her hands slipping under his shirt. She pauses. "Is this okay?"

The way she's lying on top of him is driving him crazy, and of course it's okay, because why wouldn't he want Rachel on top of him? The question drags him back to his senses though, reminding him unpleasantly of why she keeps asking. And maybe she's right, maybe they're going a little too fast, but he's not ready to stop yet and he drags her down into another kiss. He just needs to keep going.

It's when Rachel splays her hand over his chest, pressing him against the bed, that he tenses. It's instinctive, reflexive, and it's enough for Rachel to back down, rolling onto her side next to him. Slowly, a familiar mix of frustration, shame, guilt, and a host of other feelings builds up in Quinn's chest, and he sits up abruptly, unable to look Rachel in the eye.

She looks at him worriedly. "Quinn, I – are you okay?" She's still a little out of breath, lips swollen and hair mussed, but she shifts, giving him a bit of space. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I'm fine," he cuts her off, running his hand through his hair. "I'm fine. You didn't do anything." Of course she didn't. None of this is her fault. He's the one with the problem, and it makes him sick. He forces a smile. "It's nothing."

She opens her mouth to say something, but then stops, nods. "Okay."

He sighs, slightly relieved. He doesn't want to talk about this, and so far, Rachel's been going along with his silent request to let it go. But he's sure there's a limit to Rachel's patience, and she has the right to ask. He knows he's just putting off the inevitable talk, but he's just not ready yet.

Quinn is a little anxious when they get to glee the next day, because he has a therapy session this afternoon and he's trying to work up the courage to talk to Dr. Miles about what's going on with him. He's wanted to for a while now, but between his other issues and his mortification at the topic, he hasn't been brave enough to just yet. Sex is not something that's ever discussed in the Fabray household, and it's hard to fight against years of conditioning. So when Blaine strides to the front of the room, practically crackling with anger, it's a welcome, if surprising, distraction.

"This song's for anyone who's ever been cheated on," he says bitterly as the band starts to play the introduction to It's Not Right, But It's Okay. Everyone immediately looks at Kurt, who scowls.

"This is insane. I did not cheat on you."

Blaine's performance is angry and pointed, and he storms out as soon as the song ends. Kurt sits in stony horror for a minute before following him. The rest of the meeting is kind of a write-off, since practically everyone's gossiping, and Mr. Schue calls it off in exasperation.

"Any idea what that was about?" Quinn wonders, following Rachel out of the choir room.

Rachel frowns a little. "Kurt came to talk to me about our NYADA auditions yesterday, actually." She looks conflicted for a moment. "He mentioned he met a guy at the music store a few days ago, and, well, they've been texting."

"Texting?"

Rachel winces. "The texts were… kind of flirtatious."

Quinn frowns, leading the way to the parking lot. "So Kurt's cheating on Blaine."

"I told him he should probably tell Blaine about it." She looks up at him, following him to his Jeep. "You talked to Blaine yesterday, didn't you?"

"Yeah. He mentioned he and Kurt hadn't been spending that much time together." He'd noticed Blaine was off yesterday, but he hadn't thought it was anything like this.

Rachel nods, smiling briefly in thanks when he opens the car door for her. "Kurt said the same. He said it's like lesbian bed death."

"Do I want to know what that is?"

Rachel wrinkles her nose. "He said it's when two lesbians date for so long that they become like sisters."

"Ew."

"I know." Rachel is quiet for a moment as Quinn starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot, heading for Rachel's dance studio. "Blaine's been talking to Sebastian, you know."

Quinn frowns, trying to place the name. "Sebastian? As in slushy-with-rock-salt Sebastian?"

"The same."

"Why?"

"I have no idea. I saw them talking at the Lima Bean a few weeks ago. I confronted them, of course. I though Sebastian was messing with Blaine again, but apparently they're friends now." She wrinkles her nose. "I think they've got a mutual crush thing going on."

"So Kurt and Blaine are both cheating on each other?"

Rachel sighs. "I know they're soulmates, but sometimes I wonder if they're one of the pairs that don't work out. This isn't the first time they've had issues. I know they fight about Finn sometimes, like when Finn outed Santana a few months ago. Finn was against Blaine when he first joined the glee club too, and Kurt never called him out on it. And they had their problems, even before that."

Quinn looks at her sideways, pulling to a stop at a red light. "We've had our problems too." Does she think they're not going to work out either? The thought frightens him.

But she immediately shakes her head. "We're different. I think it matters a lot that we try to talk about our problems. And it's been working so far, hasn't it?"

"Yeah." He knows she's right. Everything between them has been different, better, since he started to open up, and he resolves to keep trying. They chat a bit more on the drive to Rachel's dance studio, and soon they pull up in front of the building. "Rachel?"

"Hmm?"

He licks his lips, trying to think of what he wants to say. Words fail him though, and he sighs in defeat. "Nothing. I love you."

She beams, gives him a quick kiss. "I love you too." She hesitates before opening the door. "You can talk to me about anything, you know?"

He gives her a small smile, resolving to pull his shit together and talk to her soon. "I know. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Okay."

..

He finds himself at his therapist's office fifteen minutes later, and he wanders over to the table holding Dr. Miles' giant, almost-completed puzzle. Enough is done that he can make out the image of a vase of sunflowers, but there's still a good bit of work to be done. He manages to add several pieces before the therapist comes in.

"Hello, Quinn. Any progress?" Dr. Miles asks with a smile, closing the door behind him. "I've got another puzzle in line when that one's finished."

"Cool." Quinn sits down at his usual spot on one end of the couch.

"How have you been? Good day at school?"

"Yeah, I guess." He leans back. "There's a scandal in my glee club."

"Oh?"

"Between Blaine and his soulmate, actually." He's mentioned Blaine to Dr. Miles a couple of times. "Rachel told me Kurt's been texting with this guy for a few days. You know, flirty texts. I guess Blaine found out. We're doing Whitney Houston songs this week in glee, and he sang It's Not Right, But It's Okay."

Dr. Miles chuckles dryly. "Very apropos."

"Do you think it was cheating? If it was just texting?"

"Do you?"

"If he's flirting with someone else, that's cheating."

Dr. Miles nods. "Cheating isn't just physical. It can be emotional too." He looks at Quinn probingly. "Is there a reason you're asking?"

Quinn thinks for a moment. The topic had brought up unpleasant memories of his ex-girlfriend. Rachel would never do that to him, and he'd never do that to her either. "Not really."

"Okay. So. What's on your mind today, Quinn? I sense there's something you want to talk about."

Dr. Miles has this uncanny ability to suss out when there's something particularly bothering him, and in this case he's right. Quinn rubs the back of his neck, hesitating. He doesn't even know how to start putting it into words, and he opens his mouth, only to shut it again. There's a bowl on the coffee table filled with a bunch of colorful stress balls, and he reaches out to pick one up.

"Is it about Rachel?" Dr. Miles guesses.

He gives the squishy ball a squeeze. "Yeah."

"… Is this something about physical intimacy?"

Quinn immediately flushes. Is it really that obvious?

"I see. Has something happened, between the two of you? Remember, I'm not here to judge, and everything said here is completely confidential."

"I know." Quinn inhales, rubbing his free hand on his knee. It's been around two months since he's started therapy, and he decides he's comfortable enough with Dr. Miles to take the plunge. "It's more like… what's not happening, if you catch my drift."

"All right…" Dr. Miles rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Do you want it to happen?"

"Yes. I – I don't know." It's just so confusing because he does want Rachel. He is absolutely in love with her, and he's definitely attracted to her physically. How could he not be? "I want to be doing more than what we're doing now. I…" He swallows. "Sometimes I imagine doing… things with her. And I want that."

"But?"

Quinn takes a breath, his anxiety spiking. "But then we'll be doing stuff, and we'll both be really into it. But sometimes… I get nervous, I guess, or she'll touch me and I react… not very well."

"How do you mean?"

He fidgets. "It's like… flinching, I guess. Or freezing up for a few seconds. I can't – I can't help it," he says, running a hand through his hair. "Is this –" He swallows. "Is this normal? Is there…. something wrong with me?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because it's ridiculous," Quinn bites out. "I should – I mean, I'm supposed to want to have sex, right? Guys are supposed to – everyone else does it. I'm supposed to want to. I'm not supposed to freeze up whenever she does something that surprises me." He stands up, unable to keep still in his agitation. "Frank mentioned last week, he and Callie did it when they were sixteen. I'm eighteen, and I still haven't –" He runs a hand through his hair again. "There's something wrong with me, isn't there?"

Dr. Miles shakes his head. "There isn't anything wrong with you, Quinn. There is nothing wrong with not being ready for sex."

"Because of what happened to me." It comes out bitter, and he drops back onto the couch, hunched forward.

"No. No matter what happened in the past, there is nothing wrong with not being ready. It doesn't matter whether you're male or female, or whether you're a survivor of sexual assault."

The words make Quinn flinch, and he takes a deep breath, trying to block out the memories that are inevitably stirred up. He deals with them a (tiny) bit better these days, but the first time he had talked to Dr. Miles about it, he'd practically broken down. But it's still painful, and it's not fair because, "It's been almost seven years," he breathes out. "I should be over it by now."

Dr. Miles shakes his head again. "You keep saying 'I'm supposed to.' 'I should.' There's no 'should' when it comes to recovery, Quinn. As trite as it sounds, everyone recovers at their own pace."

One more deep breath, fiddling with the stress ball in his hands. "My ex-girlfriend. In sophomore year," he finds himself saying. "She wanted to… you know… have sex… but I, uh, I didn't – I wasn't ready… She wasn't exactly happy about it."

"She pressured you?"

He nods minutely. "There was this time she tried to touch me. I tried to get her to stop, or slow down, but she didn't and I just – I blanked out. It felt like – like it was him again, and I – I couldn't –" He breaks off.

"A flashback."

"I guess." He rubs the bridge of his nose. "I must have pushed her off me or something, because next thing I knew, she was on the floor, and then she was yelling at me. She stormed out, and I –" He shakes his head helplessly. "That's why she broke up with me. Because I couldn't."

"I'm sorry."

Quinn brushes it off. "I wasn't – attracted to her. I've never been attracted to anyone that way," he admits, glancing away. It was another reason he'd thought he was broken. "Not until Rachel. Rachel's different. I think I'm ready now. With her. Maybe not… outright sex, not now, but…" He collects his thoughts. "I like what we're doing. I want it, and I want to be doing more than what we're doing now. I…" He flushes slightly. "Sometimes I imagine doing… things with her. And I want that."

"All right."

The easy acceptance helps him relax a tiny bit. "Rachel can tell, you know? She can tell when I'm getting uncomfortable. Sometimes even before I can. And she stops."

"That's good."

"I know. But sometimes… that's kind of the problem, you know?" Quinn looks down at the stress ball. "When I first told her, about – about what happened with my soccer coach, she got more careful about what we were doing. We had a fight about it, actually. I told her I didn't need her treating me like glass."

"She doesn't want to hurt you."

"I know that," he says sharply. "But it's… humiliating… that my girlfriend has to treat me like I'm one step away from breaking down. She's always asking if I'm okay, and then I remember why she's asking, and it's –" He cuts off. "And then at the same time, I'm kind of glad she stops, because…"

"Because?"

"Because I don't want to space out and hurt her like I did my ex, okay?" He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Like I said, I'm being stupid." Dr. Miles gives him a pointed look, and Quinn cringes again. "Sorry." Dr. Miles has pointed out that Quinn has a habit of calling himself names, and Quinn has been working on being kinder to himself. It's a struggle sometimes.

The therapist gives him an encouraging smile. "It's okay, just keep working on it." He leans back thoughtfully. "It's not uncommon for survivors of sexual abuse to have issues with physical intimacy. You know your reactions aren't your fault, right?"

"I know." Quinn crushes the stress ball in his hand. He knows it, intellectually. They've talked about this. He's not at fault for anything that happened when he was eleven. This was all on his coach. He knows that in his head.

If only his heart was easier to convince.

"All right." Dr. Miles looks at him thoughtfully. "Let's backtrack a little before we discuss a plan of action; there's something I want to ask you." The doctor purses his lips, looking at Quinn carefully. "What your coach did to you, that was sexual assault. It wasn't sex."

Quinn frowns. "I know that."

"What about what your ex-girlfriend did? What do you think that was?"

The question brings him up short. "It – it wasn't sex, I mean, we didn't – but it wasn't…" He falls silent. Dr. Miles waits expectantly. "I don't think it was assault. We – nothing happened."

"Why is it different from what Finn did to Rachel?" Quinn doesn't know what to say about that. His stomach twists unpleasantly as he remembers Rachel saying exactly what he'd just said. "When your partner touches you without your consent, when you say 'no' and they do it anyway… that's sexual assault."

Quinn is silent for a long time. He knows the definition of sexual assault. And he knows what – and who – he associates it with. But he's never thought of his previous relationship as outright abusive. Manipulative, yes. Complicated, absolutely. But abusive… it makes sense, now that he thinks about it. Part of him is angry, but mostly he's just… resigned. It had been a toxic relationship that had ended terribly, and this little tidbit hardly makes it worse. "Why… why did I see it with Rachel, and not with…"

"It's often easier to see red flags in other people's relationships than in our own," Dr. Miles says. "That's why it can be extremely helpful to talk to other people about these things. To gain an outside perspective."

Quinn squeezes his stress ball. "What do you think about my relationship with Rachel?"

"From what I've heard, it sounds quite healthy. For one, unlike your previous relationship, you respect each other's boundaries. For another, you both make an effort with communication. It's interesting, considering you're both still quite young."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, it's a very good thing." The doctor assures him. "It's normally hard for couples to communicate, but it sounds like you two are doing well on that front. Do you know why that is?"

He knows the answer to that one. He's given it a lot of thought, after all. "I've never really had anyone to talk to before. My family… they usually just thought I was being dumb. That's mostly why I didn't tell them…" He shakes his head. "Rachel listens to me. And – and she doesn't make me feel like what I'm saying is wrong, or stupid, or… She just cares a lot, you know?" Sometimes it's still hard for him to comprehend.

The older man smiles. "That's good, Quinn. You're soulmates, so it's naturally easy to get into tune with each other. But I'm sure you know that's no guarantee. Often, trauma like this can drive partners apart. For others though, with time and effort, it can make the bond even stronger."

Quinn nods, releasing his grip on the ball. He knows he feels a powerful connection to Rachel that has only strengthened since he's told her his secret, and he's relieved that Dr. Miles thinks their relationship is a healthy one. "I just… want to get better. For her."

The therapist smiles at him. "An admirable goal. But you need to want it for yourself too. You can't make someone, even your soulmate, the sole reason for you to improve. That's a lot of pressure for someone."

"I know." It's something he worries about sometimes. "But it's not just for her. It is, partially, but… I want to be better too. I don't want to… stay stuck."

"Good," Dr. Miles says approvingly. "Now, let's talk about what we can do to help you get unstuck. Sound good?"

Quinn takes a deep breath, nodding. "Yeah."

..

He hasn't been sleeping well the past few nights, and tonight is no different. He usually feels a little better after therapy, but digging up the past and his feelings towards it sometimes cause backlash. Today's topic was particularly troubling, and his nightmares are worse than usual.

While he occasionally remembers his nightmares with razor-sharp clarity, more often, it's just a blur. But when he wakes up, he does so with his heart pounding, sweat beading on his forehead, and the phantom sensations of powerful arms pinning him down and unwanted fingers all over his skin.

It's like that tonight, and he doesn't care that it's the middle of the night; he stumbles into the shower and turns the water up as hot as he can bear. Steam fogs up the bathroom in no time, and Quinn stands under the shower for eternity, wondering why.

Why did it have to happen to him?

Why hadn't he done anything to stop it?

Why can't he get over it?

He stands there until the water starts to cool. The lingering feeling of hands all over his body doesn't go away though. He feels dirty, disgusting, and it isn't something that can be washed away. After an eternity, he drags himself out of the shower, and he can't even bear to look at himself in the mirror. The shame and disgust are almost overwhelming as they usually are, and now it's compounded by his realization about his ex-girlfriend. He knows he's not going to be able to sleep again anytime soon, so he throws on some clothes, grabs his car keys, and heads downstairs.

It's raining, but he's still damp from his shower and the rain doesn't make much difference when he dashes to his car. They wreak havoc on his glasses though (his hands had been shaking too much to put in his contacts), and he wipes them off after he stumbles into the Jeep, taking a deep breath before he starts the engine. He doesn't have a particular destination in mind, but he just wants to calm down, and he concentrates on the road.

He doesn't pay much attention to where he's going, but it's not really much of a surprise when he ends up outside Rachel's house. It's past one in the morning according to the dashboard clock, and the house is dark except for a single hall light glowing through the front door. Quinn puts the car in park, closing his eyes as he settles in his seat. His mind clears a little, and the knowledge that Rachel is close by soothes him. The rain drums gently on the roof of the car, the splip-splopping of the windshield wipers providing a calming rhythm. He's not sure how long he sits there, just thinking.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-

Quinn jumps at the loud noise, and his eyes widen when he sees Rachel peering at him through the opposite window, impatiently rapping her knuckles on the glass. He hurriedly unlocks the car, and Rachel yanks the door open and drops heavily into the passenger's seat. "Rachel, what are you doing?"

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" she counters, wiping water off her face. "Why didn't you wake me up? I tried texting and writing. You've been out here for fifteen minutes that I know of. Probably even longer before I woke up."

"I think I left my phone at home." He glances at the back of his hand, and sure enough, there's a fading message there. "You're supposed to be asleep."

"So are you." She turns to look at him, brown eyes shining with concern. "What's wrong?"

"… Bad dreams," he sighs, too tired to even try to skirt around it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Quinn slumps lower in his seat, stares out the window. He hasn't really talked to her about his nightmares apart from that one time she'd come to his house and seen him having one. "I don't really remember," he says. "It's just… feelings mostly." He shudders involuntarily, rubbing at his arms.

"Okay."

They're both quiet for a while, listening to the rain. When he notices her stifle a yawn, he frowns. "You should go back to bed."

"I'm fine," she says dismissively. "I don't want you to be alone."

Quinn softens. Before he'd met her, he hadn't really noticed how much he dislikes being alone, and it means a lot that she often goes out of her way to spend time with him. "You really don't have to stay."

"I want to." Rachel reaches out to touch him, but then pauses and pulls her hand back. Quinn's smile falls, remembering his therapy session with Dr. Miles that afternoon.

"Don't do that."

Rachel frowns. "Do what?"

Quinn hesitates for a second, wondering if he really wants to talk about it now, in his car in the middle of the night, when they're both sleep-deprived. "Never mind. We can talk about it tomorrow."

"It's already tomorrow, and we can talk about it now," Rachel counters. Any trace of sleep is gone from her eyes, and she looks at him in determination and concern. "You can't just tell me not to do something and then not tell me what it is. That's unfair."

Quinn sighs, knowing she probably won't let go of this easily. She can be stubborn when she wants to be. "I talked to Dr. Miles about some stuff at therapy today. Yesterday. Whatever." He folds his arms across his chest. "About… you know, the physical stuff."

"Oh." Her hand twitches, almost like she wants to reach out again, but she doesn't.

"There. You just did it again."

Rachel's eyes widen momentarily, and a guilty look crosses her face. Quinn almost wants to smile at how expressive her face is. She uses it to her advantage, of course, in her acting, but it makes it easy for Quinn to see her real emotions in moments like this.

He looks away. "I told you before, I don't want you treating me like I'm going to break any moment. That just makes everything worse." He takes a deep breath. "I know you're holding back. When you think I'm getting uncomfortable. I don't… I don't like it when you do that."

Her face falls, a guilty expression on her face. "I know you said you didn't want me treating you like you're made of glass… but I would never want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Especially when I think you want to stop."

He sighs, leans his head back against the headrest. "That's the problem. I don't want to stop. I like…" He swallows. "I like it when you touch me. I like what we've been doing."

"So do I." Rachel bites her lip. "But… sometimes I can tell you're uncomfortable. You… tense up sometimes."

"I can't help it," he says. "But it doesn't always mean I want you to stop." He takes a deep breath, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Dr. Miles said that it's…. normal to have issues with… physical intimacy. His words. But that doesn't mean – that I can't want to, or – or that we can't –"

He expels a breath, frustrated at his inability to put his thoughts into words. As comfortable as he feels with Rachel, it's still hard for him to talk about his feelings, and even harder for him to talk about anything relating to his past. But he's terrified that if he doesn't work through this, he's going to lose Rachel.

That's not something he's prepared to do.

"Look, I feel… safe with you, okay? And when you back away like that… I feel like you think I'm broken, Like there's something wrong with me. And – and maybe there is, and I hate it."

"Quinn, I don't think that at all!" Her voice is distraught. "I'm sorry. I didn't think –" She takes a breath. "I didn't mean to make you feel like there's something wrong with you, because there isn't. I'm just – I'm scared of hurting you. You've been through so much, I don't want to add to that, even inadvertently."

"I know that. And I feel like such a dick because I know you're trying to help. And you do help. But I can't help being mad at myself because I'm not supposed to need you to worry about that."

Rachel shakes her head. "It's okay for you to need me. I don't mind."

He leans his head against the window. "I just want us to be normal. I want us to be able to do things without having to worry."

"I want that too. I want you to be happy, Quinn."

They're silent for a while. Quinn calms a little, relieved that she's taking him seriously, that she's not mad at him. It would be so easy for her to take offense, because hell, she's the one trying to accommodate him, and here he is complaining.

"So… what can we do about it?" Rachel asks. "Is there something I can do, or…?"

Quinn has to smile a little. His soulmate is a very proactive person, and it doesn't surprise him that she wants to be able to do something to fix this. "Dr. Miles says we're doing it right, taking things slow. But how do we know the limits if we don't push a little, you know?"

"I see your point," Rachel nods, "but that means we need to talk about our boundaries. About what things are okay to do, and what things aren't."

"Exactly," Quinn agrees, glad that she's taking this well. "I don't exactly… know my triggers," he admits softly. "I've never done things like we do. And I didn't want to, not before us, so it didn't really matter. But it does now." He clears his throat. "Anyway, Dr. Miles gave me some exercises we could maybe try, to sort of get comfortable with physical contact. And maybe try to figure out triggers, if there are any. If you'd be okay with doing that." He looks at her tentatively, and she smiles.

"Of course, Quinn. I'll do anything to help." She hesitates. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course."

"I know you've told me you aren't reminded of – of your past, when we start to get intimate. Is that still true? Have you ever had a flashback, or something similar, when we're together?"

He immediately shakes his head. "Never."

"So when you freeze up…"

"It's – I'm still there," Quinn says slowly, trying to figure out how to say it. "I've had flashbacks before, and they're different. It's like I'm somewhere else, and…" He shakes his head, blowing out a breath. He'd discussed this in therapy, but it doesn't make it any easier to say. "Look, when we do things, it's not really something I'm used to." He licks his lips. "When someone touched me like that before, I didn't – I didn't want it."

Rachel looks down. "I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have asked."

"It's fine. You should know." He clears his throat. "It's different with you," he says firmly. "When you touch me, I want it. It's just… it's more like reflex, I guess."

She takes a moment to process it before nodding. "Okay. I understand."

"If – if it helps, Dr. Miles says it may go away with practice. Once I get used to it. Or we'll find the kind of touches that set me off, and we can avoid them."

She chuckles softly. "Then I guess we'd better practice."

He smiles slightly, both from the idea of practicing and the relief that she's being so supportive. "I'm not opposed to that." He pauses. "And he suggested… maybe using a safe word." He'd been skeptical at first; it wasn't like he and Rachel were into any kinky Fifty Shades of Grey shit, but he'd eventually conceded it might help.

"That might be a good idea," Rachel agrees. "It would help us both know when we really need to stop. Though I hope we never get to the point that either of us feels the need to use it."

"Yeah." He glances down briefly, his smile fading. "I'm really sorry."

"For what?"

"You shouldn't have to deal with all my problems."

"I've already told you, we're in this together. I want to help you." Rachel is silent for a while. "I've spoken to my therapist about this too," she admits.

"What did he say?"

"Same as yours. To give it time." She bites her lip. "You say you trust me, right?"

"Yeah. Of course."

She nods. "My therapist says it needs to go both ways. I trust you too, and part of it is trusting you to tell me when things are getting to be too much. It isn't fair for me to hold back and not give you a choice about it."

"Okay." Quinn nods. What she's saying makes sense, because he realizes part of the problem is the lack of control. He doesn't have a say in whether he wants to stop or not, and it bothers him.

"Just… you have to promise you'll tell me, okay? You have to tell me if I'm doing something wrong."

"I will."

"And I don't want you to do anything just because you think I want you to. I want it to be because you want to. We both have to want to. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, and I do want to." He looks at her longingly. "You have no idea how much I want to. But… I get where you're coming from too. If our places were reversed… I'd be scared of hurting you too."

Rachel hums. "My therapist gave me a quote. 'Of course I'll hurt you. Of course you'll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter.' It's from –"

"The Little Prince. I've read it." Quinn looks down, smiling slightly. "That was one of my favorites when I was a kid."

She smiles. "Good to know. But yes, there's always the chance we'll hurt each other. We already have, at one point or another. But it comes with the territory. I love you, and you love me, and I really believe we can make something wonderful together."

Quinn smiles back. "So do I."

Rachel reaches out then, and Quinn meets her halfway, their fingers fitting into each other. They sit there for a while, just content to watch the rain fall together. Quinn feels a lot better now, and he lets out a quiet sigh. He hears Rachel stifle a yawn next to him, and suddenly he realizes just what time it is. "You should really go back to bed. Don't divas need their beauty sleep or something?"

"Are you saying I need beauty sleep?"

Quinn manages to find it in himself to smirk. "That wet rat's nest on your head isn't doing you any favors."

"Hmph." She yawns again. "I'll go in, on one condition."

"What is it?"

"You need to come inside with me."

Quinn's smirk falls. "I… don't think your dads would be cool with that."

She waves dismissively. "They're asleep, and I'm sure they'll understand. You're obviously more than welcome to stay with me, but you can have the guest room, if you feel like being alone."

Quinn glances out the window. He really doesn't want to be alone right now. "… Okay."

Rachel beams. "Come on."

They make a mad dash hand in hand through the rain and into the Berry house. Rachel leads him to a closet where she pulls out a couple of towels, handing one to him so he can dry himself off as she does the same. Fortunately, his shirt and sweatpants aren't all that wet, and they're comfortable enough to sleep in so he doesn't have to borrow any of Rachel's dads' clothes.

"So… guest room?" Rachel looks up at him in question once they finish drying themselves. Quinn shakes his head, and she smiles, taking his hand to pull him to her room. "Okay."

..

He wakes up one more time that night, and he's disoriented for a moment, because this isn't his bed, and he's pretty sure this isn't his room. But it is his soulmate snuggled into his arms, mouth slightly open as she snores gently. Quinn smiles, tightens his grip, and lets himself slip back into slumber. At times like these, he can believe that there isn't really anything wrong with him.

Six months is apparently a long time for a high school relationship, and that's how long Quinn's been dating Danielle Grady. She's pretty, but Quinn isn't really interested in a relationship (at least not with anyone who isn't Rachel). He's the quarterback though, so it's expected of him to have a girlfriend, and he's nothing if not an expert at trying to conform to expectations.

Dani's been hinting at moving their physical relationship forward for a while now. They're in Quinn's room one night, coming from a party where they've both had a few drinks. Dani's hanging all over him, kissing him, touching him, and he tries to tell himself that it feels good that she wants him like that. The alcohol helps a little.

He's not entirely sure how it happens, but somehow he ends up sitting on the edge of his bed, Dani straddling his lap. He's not entirely attracted to her that way, he doesn't think, but he knows he supposed to be. And he's been faking a lot (everything) for a long time now, so he kisses her back, and it's sloppy and heated and totally physical.

Her blouse is on the floor, her lips are on his, and he's trying to get into it but something just feels wrong. It's not long before Dani drags his shirt off, and that's when it starts to become too much. She's kissing him too hard, too rough, one hand threading through his hair and keeping him locked in place. She's too close, her fingers dragging down his chest in a way that reminds him horribly of someone else.

"Wait, wait," he mumbles, trying to pull away. But her grip keeps him in place, and for a heart-stopping second, it's not her hand anymore, it's his. He's eleven years old again, and he doesn't want this, there are hands all over his body and he doesn't want this. He comes back to himself enough to remember that he's with Danielle, but it doesn't matter, he wants to stop.

She doesn't though. "Come on, just a little bit more," she pants into his ear, grinding into him as she latches onto his neck. "Don't you want me?"

A groan chokes in his throat when she presses into his lap just right, and he's so confused because his body's reacting but his mind doesn't want it and it makes him sick. "Dani, stop."

He tries to push her off, but she won't stop, she just kisses him again, forcing his mouth open as she slips her hand into his pants. "You're going to like it, I promise."

you're going to like it, it'll feel really good.

no. no stop don't please I don't want –

shh, you're fine, I'm gonna make you feel really good, hotshot. promise.

When he snaps out of it, Dani's on the floor, looking at him in complete surprise. He doesn't even remember pushing her off. "Dani –"

She flies up, her surprise turning into anger. "Save it, Quinn. I have no idea what's wrong with you. Every other guy in school would kill to have me."

His anger flashes up too, and he likes that better than the confusion and shame and fear threatening to overtake him. "Then why don't you go fuck one of them instead?"

"Maybe I will!" She grabs her clothes, putting them back on before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

Quinn doesn't even try to stop her. He doesn't care about her right now because he can still feel his hands all over his body, his skin is burning and he stumbles into the bathroom just in time for his dinner to make a reappearance. Shame and guilt build up in the pit of his stomach, slowly burning away at his insides.

He goes to rinse his mouth out, staring at his reflection in the mirror. What's wrong with him?

He wrenches himself away from the mirror, unable to look at himself for a second longer. He knows exactly what's wrong with him. And he'll never be able to forget, not really, no matter how hard he tries.

And another angsty chapter. This was a hard one to get out, but I thought it was important to get Quinn's thoughts on the topic. It's a complex issue.

As always, thank you for your feedback for the previous chapter. I was pretty sure everyone would hate Frank or at least be disappointed in him. It just goes to show how messed up Quinn's family is. I did consider having a nicer version of Frank, but as sad as it is, some abused kids just go on to perpetuate the cycle.

We'll probably have one more chapter in Quinn's perspective, then we might go back to Rachel's for a bit. These are crazy times we live in, but it has freed up my schedule some so here's hoping my muse stays around. I hope everyone's staying safe, stay indoors if at all possible, and I'll see you next time!