Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I certainly wish I did. They'd hump like bunnies on viagra.
A/N: Still testing the waters so yeah, hope you like it. Unbeta'd as I still am betaless. So mistakes are mine.

"You're really just one drink away from letting a girl go down you, you know that right?"

It's a throw away statement made while they're all sitting around playing cards and getting high. Puck came for a visit claiming it wasn't right that all of the hot girls from Lima were now on the East Coast and he was stuck in Bumfuck East. For whatever reason that meant that Quinn had an "excuse" to come into Brooklyn.

"Whatever Santana, I bet you haven't had any since you got to New York," Puck started, flipping a card down onto the table.

Santana had glared and insisted that she most definitely had gotten some. Which of course led to Rachel and Kurt drilling her on when and where and why hadn't she invited the girl over to dinner because they really don't understand how hookups work. And after Brittany, yeah, that's all she's really looking for.

But it's Quinn's quiet, "But how do you even approach girls in the first place? I've always wondered that," is what catches Santana's attention

It's not the easiest thing in the world to explain because it's not like she can just walk up to any girl on the street and just ask for their number. Even as hot as she is, she's not quite that lesbian and she's in a new place and it wasn't like Lima prepared her for meeting girls that were not her best friend who had kissed her the first time because she wanted a "perfect record."

Still she's been both out of the closet and out to gay bars since the summer after senior year of high school. So, she's getting there and since moving to New York, she's definitely improved her game. So she fixes Quinn with a look and watches the other girl kind of freeze. Then she offers her this smile that has yet to fail her when she thinks a girl is interested and beckons Quinn with her fingers.

Quinn ducks her head but not before Santana notices her flushed cheeks and grins to herself. "And that actually works for you?" Quinn asks like she doesn't believe it, but like Santana just got a reaction out of her even if she's trying to pretend that she didn't.

So, Santana laughs and brushes off her shoulders as Puck slaps her on the back. "I taught you well, Lopez."

Rolling her eyes, Santana punches him hard in the arm. "Please, I've never needed to crotch thrust in a girl's direction to get her to notice me."

Rachel giggles and Kurt shakes his head. They're both total light weights and they were far past gone about twenty minutes in. So, Santana's pretty much ignoring them. She's just grateful Brody isn't around, but she's pretty sure Rachel sent him away because Puck was coming into town. She hasn't mentioned it, but she'll call Rachel on that another time.

Quinn makes this disgusted noise and Santana's eyes snap back to her. "Please, even you weren't immune to his charms," she points out and flips a card down. She notes the way Quinn still won't meet her eye and smirks to herself. "And, you're really just one drink away from letting a girl go down you, you know that right?"

Puck's expression perks up at that and Rachel and Kurt just stare at Quinn, who's glaring back at Santana. "Please, not everyone's obsessed with sex like you are, Santana."

Maybe not, but Quinn didn't deny what she said. So, Santana doesn't think she's wrong.

Santana never thinks anything more about it until two months later, on a random Thursday night, her phone buzzes. She's laying in her bed just listening to music because she has the night off from that little hipster record store she managed to get a job at and for once Kurt and Rachel are gone. She picks it up and frowns a little as she reads the text before sliding her finger across the screen.

Remember that time we got drunk at Kyle Becker's party and made out?

The text is from Quinn and yeah she remembers that they got drunk and kissed because Puck dared them to. But Quinn's never brought that shit up before and Santana doesn't get why she's doing it now.

Yeah, what about it?

She doesn't get another text for ten minutes and by then, she's blasting Little Dragon and doesn't see the text for another fifteen. She glances over and reads the message, wondering what the hell is going on with Quinn.

Nothing. It's jsut your lips were so soft. Some times I look at them and just think wo w Santana has soft lips.

Santana rolls her eyes because clearly Quinn is drunk, but why isn't she texting her old man boyfriend instead of texting Santana?

Um o...k... where's Prof McBalding? Aren't his lips something you should be talking about?

This time the text is much quicker and Santana's more intrigued now.

No I just...are all girls lips that soft or just yours? Did you think my lips were soft tooo?

In truth, Santana doesn't really remember kissing Quinn, like not in great detail because she's kissed a lot of people and it wasn't like the most mind blowing kiss because Quinn's mouth was practically glued shut when they kissed. Plus, it was maybe five seconds long, but she decides to lie just to see what Quinn will say.

Yeah, they were really soft, Q. And I guess girls lips are soft. It's better than kissing dudes and like they don't use too much tongue.

Yeah, sometimes guys are so gross and I have to think about other stuff to keep kissing them. You're lucky you like girls. THey hare soft lips.

Santana reads the text several times, unsure of how to respond and amused as fuck. It dawns on her that maybe she wasn't wrong. If Quinn got drunk enough, it wouldn't take much to get those church dresses off.

What do you think about instead?

She never gets a reply, but the question stays with her until the next morning when Quinn texts her and apologizes for the drunk texts. She still refuses to answer the question and stops answering her texts altogether until Santana promises to stop asking.

It doesn't stop the drunk texts from happening and Santana learns that if she doesn't bring them up the next day, Quinn's far less pissy about it.

Then one night she's closing the store and her phone buzzes. It sucks that she's stuck there on a Friday night because they're dead and she just has to sit there until eleven o'clock and pray a rapist doesn't come in and take advantage of the situation. She picks it up and is already amused when she sees the message on the screen.

I have a secret, but you scan'ts tell anyway

She's gotten good at deciphering the drunk speak and leans against the counter as she types.

What's your secret?

I keep thinking about sskissing girls and you and I want to do that.

Yeah, she's seen this coming for a while, specifically after about two weeks ago when Quinn was whining about how long it's been since she had a date. She was sober for that conversation and had broken up with the Slutty Professor when he dared give her a "C-" on a paper and called her uninspired.

Do what? Kiss me or kiss a girl?

She knows she's playing with fire, but she'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that she was starting to get just as affected by these little conversations as Quinn was.

Both.

The word makes her stomach drop and she almost laughs as The Vaccines "Post Break-Up Sex" starts playing in the store.

Too bad I'm hours away.

You need to come visit. I got you a ticket. Use it.

Santana's already trying to figure out when she'll be able to get some time off before she sends the text back that she will.

Neither of them acknowledge it, but after that, their relationship is different.

They spend the next month texting. They don't talk about it, but Santana tells Quinn she can visit in about six weeks and the blonde promises to clear her schedule. They make idle chitchat on skype and Quinn gets Santana watching Dr. Who because people keep telling her it's a good show and she needs someone to talk to that isn't Rachel who can't seem to stop giving away spoilers.

But then at night, their texts were turning from drunken, wistful longings to sexting. One night, while Santana was at work, Quinn sent her a picture that was tamer than most pictures she'd received even from Brittany, but the image of Quinn's thighs and her hand slipped into this almost virginal pair of pink panties with little strawberries on them had Santana wetter than she'd been in a long time.

Wish it was my hand

She shot back. She hated that she was at work because she'd give anything to be home in her empty apartment right now.

Me too. Now I can't stop thinking about it.

For someone who hadn't even known what sexting was four years ago, Quinn was definitely catching on quick.

Fuck Q, are you wet? Tell me you're wet.

Her breath caught and a customer sat a vinyl on the counter in front of her, shooting her a weird look. Santana just glared back and rang him out before grabbing her phone again.

Definitely. I usually am nowadays when I think about you.

Yeah? What do you think about?

You touching me and kissing me.

Okay, Quinn's dirty talk can use a lot of work, but Santana figures she probably just needed a little coaxing.

Like how do I touch you? Where am I kissing you?

Idk. Everywhere?

Santana supposes that sometimes she forgets that Quinn is...well Quinn. The girl was sneaking Harlequin romance novels while Santana was spending her time under the bleachers with guys freshman year of high school.

If I were there right now, I'd watch you just until you got to the point where you were about to come and then I'd take over. I'd replace your hand with mine and slip my fingers inside of you because I'd want to watch your face as you came and know it was because of me.

Oh God.

Santana's phone buzzes and she's dying to check it, but she has another customer and really don't they know she's trying to get her...Quinn all riled up? She all but rushes the little hipster Asian girl with the shaggy haircut out of the store and grabs her phone.

And I wouldn't stop until I didn't think you could come anymore. Then I'd let you catch your breath before I licked you clean.

Not her most creative work, but she was working with a novice here and didn't want to scare her away. There's about a ten minute break where she doesn't receive any texts at all and she thinks she might have done that anyway, but then her phone vibrates against the counter.

Fuck. I've been trying that for a week and it finally worked.

Santana knows without asking that Quinn means masturbating. She'd been completely against it in high school, but lately Santana had been trying to talk her into it. So she accepted the small victory for what it was because she'd just gotten Quinn Fabray to come and she hadn't even touched her.

The pictures come regularly after that and though Quinn will never send anything too risque, Santana has no such problem. She's already got a sextape out there that will haunt her for the rest of her life, what's a few pictures of her breasts?

Santana debates phone sex for about a week. On the one hand she really wants to hear Quinn come and there's like two weeks before she'll be in New Haven, but a part of her wants to wait until she can hear it in person. But Quinn kind of takes the decision out of her hands the night she goes out with her sorority sisters and proceeds to get completely wasted. Santana's already asleep, but that doesn't stop Quinn from leaving a voicemail that is nothing but her drunkenly telling Santana how horny she is and then totally getting off before hanging up.

She's not ashamed that she listens to that message every day for the next week. At least most of the time she's using it to get herself off as well.

Santana's nervous the entire train ride to New Haven and she doesn't know why. It's not that Quinn hasn't ever been with a girl. It's not even just that they've never had sex with each other. It's more like there's all been all this build up for months and she doesn't know what she'll do if it doesn't live up to either of their expectations. Plus, the closer she gets there, the more she realizes she has no idea how to interact with Quinn anymore. She can't exactly resort to her usual bitchy self. That just seems counterproductive to what she's hoping the next four days will be.

Quinn's standing just at the front of the station when Santana makes it through the crowd of people. The blonde hasn't spotted her yet and Santana takes a moment to just watch her. She doesn't notice, but almost every person that passes her practically does a double take and for all of the shit they've always given each other, Santana's never really realized just how hot Quinn actually is.

She's smiling as she walks up to her, her nerves momentarily forgotten. Quinn spots her about a half of foot away and smiles brightly at seeing her. Santana stops just in front of her and there's a moment of hesitation where they just look at each other. The air around them is charged and it's like they don't know if they should embrace or not, but Quinn makes the first move, wrapping her arms around Santana and pulling her close.

"Finally," is all that she says, her breath caressing the shell of the brunette's ear and Santana can't hide the little shudder that moves through her.

They're going to dinner with the girl who Quinn got to drive her to the station and then they're just going to hang in Quinn's dorm room because her roommate is staying with her boyfriend in town for the week. So, they'll have the place to themselves which is why Santana's visiting in the first place. Quinn knew it when she set the date. So, Santana has no doubt that Quinn wants this as much as she does.

Dinner's a pretty boring affair. Quinn's friend Chelsea is pretentious and obnoxious just like Santana figured people at Yale were, but sometimes she says funny things. So, she doesn't have too bad of a time. But before she knows it, Quinn's signing her into the visitor's log in her dorm and leading the way up the stairs to her room.

The dorms at Yale are a lot different than the one she had in Kentucky. They're darker and older and the rooms are smaller, but it feels cozy somehow. She sets her duffle bag on the roommate's bed and then sits down on Quinn's, watching as the blonde walks over to her computer and turns on some music. It's kind of weird that Santana recognizes the Breakbot song now.

Quinn sits next to her and she keeps folding and unfolding her hands. Santana reaches out and takes the left one into her own hands, smiling up at her. "Don't start over thinking it now, Fabray," she jokes quietly. Quinn smiles at that, but there's still nervousness clouding her hazel eyes.

Santana leans closer to her, invading her space and inhaling the light fragrance of Dolce and Gabana's Light Blue. Her fingers massage Quinn's palms and she uses her free hand to brush the hair back from her face. Their lips are inches apart and Santana's dark eyes search for any sign of hesitation from Quinn. There isn't any, but she can hear how the other girl's breathing has started to speed up and feels, more than hears the sharp intake of air when she brushes their lips together.

It's Quinn that grows impatient with Santana's light touches and before she can really take control, she's undressed down to her purple lace thong and her bra's on the floor somewhere next to the dress she was wearing. She moans as Quinn's hand finds her breast and palms it almost roughly, making the dull ache between her legs roar.

When she feels fingers tugging at her underwear, she pushes Quinn back. No way is she getting "topped" by a practically virgin. She pulls Quinn's dress over her head and doesn't stop until there's not anything left on her smooth, pale skin. Her lips attach to Quinn's neck, teeth nipping and scraping as she maps a course down her body, stopping to lap hungrily at dusty rose nipples and dip into her navel. She's not going to go down on Quinn, at least not right away because she wants to feel how wet Quinn is, how hot she's gotten her. So, she doubles back, kissing the path back upward, and finds Quinn's lips as her fingers slip between her folds.

Quinn, who'd been quietly writhing save for the tiny whimpers that couldn't seem to be contained, cries out at the first contact and Santana lets out her own moan because she's so wet that Santana's fingers can't seem to find purchase. They slip and slide against the hardened nub but she manages to work it between her fingers, swallowing the sounds Quinn makes with her tongue.

Hips roll and buck against her hand, but she's taking her time. She wants to make sure she erases any doubts Quinn might still be having because they've only just begun and it's already good. She already doesn't want to stop touching her.

Her fingers move lower and thrust deeply into the blonde, making this sexy wet noise that just serves to make Santana even wetter than she was and she's not even sure how it's possible. Quinn's already teetering on the edge if the way she's whining over and over again in the back of her throat is any indication. Santana watches her face because she's been waiting to see this for at least two months if not years. Her cheeks are flushed and she's biting her lip as she squeezes her eyes shut. One of her hands is gripping Santana's forearm, nails digging as she starts to tighter around the brunette's fingers. And when her fingers curl and she drums against the spot inside of Quinn that she probably doesn't even know exists, she lets go in sort of a rush. Her body shakes and she swears under her breath.

Santana doesn't stop thrusting until she's started to settle. She pulls her fingers free and kind of smirks as she watches Quinn come back to herself. Hazel eyes blink blearily at her and she smiles shyly, but Santana is having none of that. "Oh don't play coy now, Q. I'm pretty sure you've just used words that would get you banned from every church from here to Lima."

Quinn, to her surprise, just laughs and runs a hand through her hair. "Well, I guess I can finally say I understand what all of the fuss over you is about," she says, sitting up. "Thanks for living up to the reputation, Santana. I would've never let you live it down if you hadn't."

Rolling her eyes, Santana sat back. "Please, that wasn't even my best work. You're just that easy, Fabray."

"If I'm that 'easy,' then what does that say about you?" Quinn ask and Santana opens her mouth to say something snarky back, but she's already being pushed down onto her back.

Quinn sets about dismantling her in ways Santana never even knew her friend had knowledge of and it's almost embarrassed how quickly she comes or the way she almost screams the blonde's name. But then she remembers that they've had months of foreplay and God, there's no discounting how full Quinn's fingers made her feel or the way that she isn't around to be a little rough.

After, she settles beside Santana and runs her fingers along her torso. They're quiet for a moment and Santana worries it might get awkward, especially since she can practically see the wheels turning in Quinn's head. But she just smiles down and shrugs. "So, I guess I can say I'm definitely not completely straight anymore."

For some reason that makes Santana laugh loudly and shake her head. All worries of tomorrow are left for the future and instead she sets about telling Quinn in just how many ways she's never ever been completely straight.