I Didn't Come Here For You

A/N: This is set about a month after the "I Do" episode. I took some liberties as to Rachel's purported situation and Kurt's relationships with Adam and Blaine.

I'm still trucking away on Locked In and Loving to Hate it. No worries there.

Finally, and most importantly, thank you to my beta, ItsCalledALanceHello for this one-shot. Even so, please blame any mistakes on me, because they're probably still mine. Blame the awesomeness on her, because she's great.

My hand hesitated on the large steel door. It wasn't my first move to open it. In fact, my palm was now flat on the steel. It had long since strayed from the handle.

What was I doing?

I was supposed to be "take on New York" Santana. I was the girl who had banged on this door mere months before and declared to Kurt and Rachel, in true diva style, that I was moving in. I left them no room for argument.

This was different. Quinn was on the other side of the door. I knew she was, because I was the one who had told Kurt to call her in the first place. Rachel was in the sort of trouble that only Quinn could understand, and the two of them had the kind of bond that I could never understand. Quinn was the logical choice. For Rachel's pregnancy issue that was, but not for me. At least, that was what I had been telling myself since the night we spent together in that hotel room at Mr. Schue's almost-wedding.

It was the least awkward morning-after that I had ever had. We laughed and teased each other without the usual bite. We didn't sprint in opposite directions, rather we discussed her courses and my New York plans over a nasty continental breakfast the next morning.

That night was a friendship shift for us. We didn't swing from a strained friendship into a sweet romance or anything of that nature. Instead, we shifted from a tense friendship to something that didn't constantly involve the endless bickering pretenses.

We were texting almost every day, there were late night phone calls when she was headed home from the bars or from class, and we had even Skyped a couple times since that night. We bantered without the slap worthy digs at one another. I had a friend rather than a competitor and we made far more sense than I ever imagined we would. There was just one problem.

I couldn't get that fucking night out of my head.

We didn't speak of it. There were a couple flirtatious jokes here and there that were seemingly easily laughed off, and the subject was quickly changed each time.

The whole not speaking thing made me think of it even more.

That was why I couldn't be the one to ask her to come. It wasn't only because I was still pretending that I didn't give two shits about Rachel Berry, but I also didn't want Quinn to think that I was asking her here because I was desperate to make it a three time thing. Although technically it would be more like a four or five time thing, but I had lost count at some point in that hotel room.

Startled, I popped my hand back as the door slid open.

If Rachel knew that I had been standing like a complete pansy outside of the door, she sure wasn't showing it.

To be fair, she had far more important things on her mind than my Quinn panic.

"Oh Santana, you're home." She sighed quietly, but I didn't step to the side immediately.

"I know there is no way that Quinn and Kurt let you walk out of there like that." I gestured to the smeared eyeliner that she had become so fond of over the past few months.

Her clothes may not have consisted of leggings and animal sweaters anymore, but she didn't look like the rising NYADA legend that she was in that moment. I often hated the impact that men had on the women in my life. Rachel, Quinn, Brittany, even Tina (I mean, a thing for Blaine, what?)…the breeders seemed to be just driving for some asinine award in stupidity.

"She fixed it, but I started up again on my way to the door." She sniffled, and I pulled her back inside to shove a box of Kleenex in her direction.

"Now get." I urged, and pulled the door shut behind her.

"I saw that." Kurt caught me as he walked into the kitchen.

"Don't care." I lied. It still bothered me when Kurt would call me out on showing any sort of consideration for Rachel.

"Are you done avoiding the emotion fest?" He asked rhetorically as he poured me a glass of white wine.

More like I was done avoiding Quinn. She had been here all day, and I had practically walked through all five boroughs in order to keep away from the apartment. It was pathetic, especially because the weather wasn't exactly warm outside.

I didn't ask where Quinn was, I took my wine with me into the bathroom and into the shower with me instead, never catching a glance of my one-night friend stand.

It wasn't until I was in front of my section of Rachel's closet (Kurt didn't have an inch to spare in his) clad only in my bra and jeans when the subject of far too many of my thoughts as of late walked into the room, without even a knock or a vocal warning.

I jumped at the clinking sound of her placing two wine glasses on the top of the dresser.

"Jesus, Q." I breathed, and she stepped behind me, her chest grazing my back as she reached forward to grab a shirt from its hanger. It was all I could do to pretend to be unaffected by it.

"I like this one on you." She dropped it into my hands as if there was no expectation of refusal.

You know, I've never slow danced with a girl before. I like it.

Her voice sounded hauntingly similar to how it did on the dance floor when she expressed her affinity for dancing with me. No, not with me. With girls.

"Busy day?" She questioned, and I distinctly felt her breath on the back of my neck. As if my skin wasn't already on high alert from her proximity.

"Mmhmm." I mumbled and for some reason I moved forward and away from her to put on the shirt she had chosen for me.

I turned around with my best unfazed-by-her smile, and she cocked her head to the side before retrieving the glasses to hand me one.

"Trying to get me drunk again, Fabray?" I teased before taking a sip. I had left my other wine glass in the bathroom.

"I didn't come here for you, Santana." She brought me down from whatever high I had been on from her touch, and I fought any disappointment from reaching my eyes. It wasn't as if I wasn't highly aware of that fact already. It was really not necessary for her to point it out.

"I never said you did." I snapped back with more emotion than I was comfortable conveying in my tone.

With that, I decided that it was the appropriate time for me to leave the room, but a firm hand on my shoulder stopped me.

"I would have." She asserted with a low tone that sent a chill rushing directly up my spine.

"What?" My eyes narrowed at her as soon as I spun around to face her again.

"I would have come here for you, but you never asked." She clarified without inhibition.

Quinn had definitely been the bold one between the two of us that night. I would be lying my hot ass off if I claimed that Valentine's Day was the first time that I had ever felt any sort of attraction to my former rival. After all, just as she had said at the reception, she was flawless.

Even if I did make a habit of hitting on my straight friends, during high school I had been too busy warring with my own sexuality and too fixated on Brittany to consider Quinn in that way.

Every touch, comment, and compliment from her that night brought me further away from surprised and closer and closer to incredibly turned on. Our laughter faded immediately once we were behind that hotel door, and with one long hungry kiss with my body pinned between hers and the door, there was no longer any room for any residual surprise within me.

"We already made those plans for Boston over your spring break." I reminded her.

Honestly, the idea of spending a few days in Boston with the two theatre dorks, when I already had to tolerate living with them, hadn't exactly appealed to me. Quinn was the factor that had persuaded me to agree to the trip.

"Those plans include Rachel and Kurt." She shook her head with that often too-smug-for-my-liking smile of hers.

When I opened my mouth to speak, but failed to make any noise, she rolled her eyes and closed the distance between us. My breath hitched as soon as the intoxicating cocktail of her vanilla and citrusy scent hit me. I instantly ached to taste her skin, and to have my face in her hair again as I-

"Ladies, Ladies, I need to be at least a bottle of wine in before I meet Adam to tell him about Blaine, and it is down right depressing drinking by myself." Kurt interrupted with a flamboyant wave directing us to join him in the kitchen. To his credit, he didn't mention anything about Quinn and me standing only inches away from each other. He simply flashed a cheeky smile before leading us back into the common area.

Brody hadn't returned to the apartment for two weeks now, Kurt was going to meet Adam, and Rachel had gone out to meet her fathers to tell them about her situation.

Quinn and I were going to be alone.

More wine sounded like the best idea that Lady Hummel had ever had.

"I don't think it would be a wise decision for you to be drunk when you have this conversation with him, Kurt." Quinn suggested, and as always, was offering advice that no one asked for.

Okay, well maybe she was right most of the time.

"Psh, I've been living with Santana Lopez for the past two months. A bottle of wine is nothing." Kurt boasted, and I scoffed immediately.

I mouthed "so not true" in Quinn's direction, and we silently agreed to make sure that he didn't finish the bottle himself.

Kurt was getting better at holding his alcohol, but a bottle of wine would definitely be enough to send him spinning into drunkland.

Kurt's Adele Pandora station was providing a relentless background to our conversation.

You said I'm stubborn and I never give in
I think you're stubborn 'cept you're always softening
You say I'm selfish, I agree with you on that
I think you're giving out way too much in fact
I say we've only known each other a year
You say I've known you longer my dear
You like to be so close, I like to be alone
I like to sit on chairs and you prefer the floor
Walking with each other, think we'll never match at all, but we do
But we do, but we do, but we do

I thought I knew myself, somehow you know me more
I've never known this, never before
You're the first to make out whenever we argue
I don't know who I'd be if I didn't know you
You're so provocative, I'm so conservative
You're so adventurous, I'm so very cautious, combining
You'd think we wouldn't, we do, but we do, but we do, but we do

Favouritism ain't my thing but,
In this situation I'll be glad...

Favouritism ain't my thing but, in this situation I'll be glad to make an exception

"Okay okay, enough of me talking about Blaine. You two, what exactly is transpiring here today?" Kurt inquired, clearly looser than he had been twenty minutes before.

Quinn and I exchanged a confused look before giggling into our glasses about how perfectly our actions mirrored one another's.

He gestured at us as if to say "see, this is exactly what I'm talking about".

"Nothing is transpiring. We've been listening to you blather pathetically on about the hair-gelled wonder for a half an hour now." I argued. The last thing I needed right now was for Porcelain to be getting involved in my business with Quinn.

"Yes. What ever do you mean, Kurt?" Quinn pondered with feigned innocence.

Not helping, Q.

It was as if she didn't care whether Lady Hummel knew our business or not.

"You two are being civil. Actually, no, it's worse, you two are getting along, and it isn't because you're bonding over mocking some helpless third party." Kurt continued with his allegations glancing suspiciously back and forth between us.

I shrugged, because really, I had no idea why things were so different between Quinn and me. Surely it couldn't have been solely because we both needed a good thorough fucking or a sexual experience that didn't end with embarrassment, or heartbreak, or regret. It was phenomenal sex, don't get me wrong, but this change between us couldn't just be about sex, could it?

We always had issues with showing each other any vulnerability for fear that the other would take advantage. We went to great lengths to point out those vulnerabilities to one another. We said to each other things that no one else in our lives were brave enough to say.

I wasn't sure how long it would have taken me to decide to go to New York if Quinn hadn't slapped the shit out of me that day over the piano. Sure, Brittany had been a catalyst of another sort, but it was Quinn who had highlighted my fear. It wasn't enough to hear from someone how great I was, I needed someone to tell me that I was being a scared little girl.

Suddenly, it was as if some switch was flipped in that pretty little head of Kurt's and he stood up abruptly from his leaning position on the counter, and almost knocked his wine glass over with his chest in doing so. Quinn caught it with those athletic reflexes of hers before it could tip over completely.

"You're the text culprit!" He pointed at Quinn accusingly with a big doofy smile on his face.

I swiped my hand in front of my throat to communicate to him that he needed to shut the fuck up, but, of course, Quinn was all over it like a lesbian on a Gloria Steinem book.

"I'm the what?" She asked, but her smile indicated that she knew exactly where this was going.

Rachel and Kurt may or may not have been noticing a particular smile that apparently came across my face when I would be on the receiving end of one of Quinn's texts as of late. They had been teasing the hell out of me for it. Well, at least they had been before I threatened to start sneaking throat closing agents into their overpriced teas.

"Say one more word, and the next girl I bring home is going to be cumming all over your a million and whatever count sheets!" I warned with a steely glare.

He gasped and his hand flew to his mouth in disgust. I laughed as Quinn pouted and poured herself another glass. She knew that she had lost this particular battle, but I did have to give it to her, her pout was adorable.

After a short phone call from Adam, Kurt ran back and forth to his room "area" to change clothes twice before he decided on an eccentric outfit that both Quinn and I disapproved of. He anxiously scurried out of the apartment without a care for either of our protests. It was difficult to blame him when Quinn and I were known for being critical and condescending bitches, but he truly did look a hot mess.

As soon as the apartment fell into silence, I moved to grab the bottle but a light directive touch from Quinn stopped me.

"San, we've talked about everything under the sun for weeks now, why can't we talk about this?" Her hand didn't leave the crook of my elbow even after I retracted my reach from the bottle.

I flashed back to that first touch by the bar when she had complimented my, or rather Rosario's, dress.

I was instantly flushed.

"Because this isn't which professors you hate or which lines I've been thrown at by skeazy guys at the bar. This isn't your daddy issues or my Brittany issues. This is us, and we don't talk about us. We make passive aggressive comments about things that we do and that'll be the last time we'll ever discuss them. And that night was…" I trailed off for fear that I was going to reveal too much.

"So good." She finished for me, and something about the definitive husk in her tone made it impossible for me to attempt to shut this down with a snarky remark.

"Yes, and I don't wanna fucking spoil it." I agreed honestly, and watched with rapt attention as her manicured hand floated down my arm, skimming my wrist with her fingertips.

Fuck.

Quinn Fabray was not supposed to have this power over me.

"What if we don't talk about it and we just do it again? And next time you won't have to hide away in the City when I come around." She propositioned with a hum, and my thighs clenched reflexively. I prayed that she couldn't see the movement from the other side of the counter.

I had dreamed about that hum for weeks. I was relatively sure that I could get off on the tone of that voice alone.

Was she implying that she planned on making this a regular thing?

"I thought you had ended your experiment?" My voice, for its part, no longer sounded normal at all. From the quirk of her eyebrow, she had definitely noticed.

"I think we both know that I am far more thorough than to come to any conclusions after one night of experimentation." Quinn purred, turning the entirety of her body toward me, and with that movement of hers I was no longer frozen in place.

My hands found her hips, and her back was pressed against the counter before her surprised gasp could fully escape her lips.

I expressed multiple weeks' worth of restrained desire against her neck, trailing frenzied kisses down to where shoulder met neck before sucking on the hallow of her collarbone.

"Oh, I'm well aware of how thorough you are." I husked against her skin, emitting a barely audible whimper as she lifted herself partially onto the counter, draping one of her legs over my hip to bring me even closer.

"I'm a perfectionist." She responded without opening her eyes, tilting her head back to give me better access. I took full advantage.

My moans were breathy as I savored the taste of her skin, but I grew more vocal with each flex of her calf against my ass, begging me closer to her. Our desperate movements had bunched my shirt up, and she was exploring the newly exposed skin with her hands. Within minutes, she was grinding against the top of my jeans, and I could feel her wet heat through her underwear against my bared stomach. I couldn't recall when exactly I had pushed her dress up her thighs, but as I looked down, it was quite evident that I had.

My short beat of a pause made Quinn impatient, and she practically lifted me onto my toes to capture my lips with hers. I didn't give a shit that my feet weren't completely on the ground. She kissed away any shred of doubt that I may have still had about whether she regretted our Valentine's Day encounter. I couldn't tell if the wine on her tongue was hers or mine, but it tasted wonderfully sweet. Just like the rest of her.

"Fuck, I missed your mouth." She confessed, swiping my bottom lip with her tongue before crashing into me once again. It was a welcome dose of reality as I remembered how many times in that hotel room she had moaned "so soft" against my lips, or while my head was between her thighs.

With that confession, I was tugging down her panties, and it was as if she was fighting me to keep contact with my body, while at the same time struggling to help me in my endeavor to rid us of the garment obstacle.

It took much longer than I would have liked, but I was reveling in each needy whine of hers against my lips and jaw. Once we were successful, I rolled back onto the heels of my feet, bending down to kiss her left thigh. Her hands immediately found purchase in my hair as if they had been there thousands of times before.

"Don't you fucking tease me, Santana." She warned from above, but I was in no mood to take orders. Instead, I raked my fingernails down the outside of her thighs, smiling smugly as her hips arched in response. I inhaled of her, creating suction on the inner most part of her thigh, a place where I fondly remembered leaving a mark just weeks before.

"Bitch." She cursed, and my smile grew wider against her thigh.

It was the greatest high I had ever experienced to have her writhing under me. I wished that we had started this years ago, but with that wish I felt a sudden but dull ache in my chest. However, the thought of my other blonde friend was gone as quickly as it came. Quinn was so different, being with her was so different, and it was scary as hell, but I wouldn't have traded it for anything else.

"That sort of name calling won't get you what you want, Blondie." I cautioned, biting down on her skin as her fingers flexed almost painfully in my hair, trying to pull me into her.

I glanced up at her through my eyelashes, and I knew instantly from her expression that she was not playing around.

"Fuck me. We've had over a month of foreplay, Santana. I need it." Her hazel eyes bored into mine, and I was pretty sure that I moaned from her words alone.

Even if I had wanted to continue to test her, I didn't have the semblance of self-control left that would be required to do so. Two of my fingers pushed inside of her and I was immediately entranced by the expression on her face as her eyes rolled back.

"You're so fucking sexy." I moaned, dipping my head down to taste of her as my fingers worked inside of her.

She was loud. Louder than she had been after our mini-drinking marathon during the reception.

"Tilt your hips up." I guided, needing to achieve a better angle in order to reach a deeper place inside of her. She obliged without hesitation, and I swirled my tongue around her clit, dragging my fingers along her top wall with each withdrawal.

By the way she was pulsing and clench around my fingers, I knew that she was already close. Every breath, moan, and reaction of her body was screaming to me how much and how long she had wanted this. It was intoxicating.

She groaned as I pushed in a third finger without pretense, stretching her, as my tongue made tight circles on her clit.

She was saying something, but there was nothing coherent about it, before she bucked forward, her thighs closing around my head and hand with a throaty moan.

I brought her down from her orgasm with a few languid strokes of my tongue, and a far gentler caress of my fingers inside of her.

As my head rose to greet her eyes, she smiled at me with a contented smile that made my heart flutter in my chest. It wasn't exactly the brand of after sex looks that I had become accustomed to as of late. Her hands fisted in the bottom most sides of my shirt before she pulled it up and over my head. She obviously wasn't paying any sort of attention to her toss because my shirt landed in the sink.

"Remember what you did to me in the hotel room?" She questioned before giving me a kiss that clearly relayed that we were nowhere near done.

"You're going to have to be more specific, Q." I had done many a thing to her in that hotel room. I knew as soon as our first round was over, that I needed to have her again. I was eternally grateful when she practically lunged at me when I suggested that we made it a two time thing.

"Right. I meant when you had me straddle your face. I want that, only with you on mine." She explained, and while I was already unbelievably wet from how incredibly hot it was to get Quinn off, hearing those words from her mouth made my situation so much worse.

"I don't have a headboard." I lamented, the last part coming out quite unclear as her lips found a sensitive part on my neck just below my jaw, and her hands fought to unclasp my bra.

"Details." She whispered against the curve of my ear, wracking my body with goosebumps.

My eyes scanned around the apartment as she jerked on my earlobe with her teeth. Kurt had kept his mouth shut, which meant we couldn't take his bed, Rachel was having a pregnancy crises and I was not actually Satan incarnate, which meant we couldn't take her bed either. My air mattress was mobile however, and the thought of bouncing on Quinn's surprisingly skillful tongue was worth some creative thinking. The old-school heater was a bit too short, and the heat was on, so that wouldn't work.

But the window sill…now that, that had potential to be the perfect height.

I lifted Quinn off the counter without another word, sliding the bra straps off of my shoulders since Quinn had successfully unclasped me. I tossed my bra into my sleeping section, pushing my air mattress toward the window in question.

"Mmm. I knew you would figure it out." Quinn appraised from behind me. Mattress hit wall, and Quinn's body made impact with mine. I sought out the zipper of her dress as her mouth worshipped my freed breasts. Finally, I was met with Quinn clad only in her green bra.

My breathing somehow managed to become even heavier as she feverishly unbuttoned my jeans, tracing the lines of my abs with her tongue.

"I hated you for this body after I got pregnant." She admitted, as I lifted my ass to help her remove my jeans.

"And now?" I moaned as she nipped at the sensitive flesh below my ribcage.

"I think I might be addicted to it." She punctuated her confession by surging her tongue forward against the lace of my underwear, creating the first satisfying friction that I had experienced since the beginning of our counter encounter.

"Fuck." I cursed, and she ripped them off of me without further attention.

She crawled away from me and up the mattress, falling onto her back with a smile and a crook of her finger to beckon me toward her. Needless to say, since at most, Quinn would be considered a baby dyke at this point, I was a tad nervous to take on this rather tricky endeavor. But hell if that was going to stop me from trying. She had been absolutely orgasmic up until this point, and I could only assume that this would be no different.

"Get over here." She ordered me, once again, and I released a quiet laugh.

"Take off your bra, and I will." I bargained.

I watched with great interest as she did just that.

Fulfilling my end of the deal, I stood above her, one leg on either side of her head before lowering myself down onto my knees, releasing a nervous sigh of anticipation.

My hands slapped down on the ledge of the window as soon as her hot breath hit my sensitive skin.

I was trembling by the time my full weight was on my knees.

Always eager to please, always eager to be the best, she sucked on each of my lower lips before her tongue slipped between, enthusiastically discovering the degree of wetness that she was entirely responsible for.

It was difficult for me to avoid applying too much pressure to her face when her tongue paid such careful attention to my clit before swiftly entering me. She extended her tongue within me, hardening it, much like I had done weeks before-she had always been a fucking quick study-and dug her nails into the skin of my hips guiding me into a bouncing motion on her tongue.

She was brilliant. She would force the slow of my hips when she wanted to circle around to my clit again, and she would encourage me to move faster on her tongue when she would push it back inside of me once again.

I was marking my own thighs with my nails by the time she was forcing my body closer and closer to the edge.

I lost control or sense of how much of my weight was on her, my hands and arms were shaking against the window's ledge and I could no longer comprehend what exactly she was doing with her tongue, but she was definitely stimulating my clit and spot at the same time.

"Fuck." I moaned, and whatever she was doing increased further in intensity. It felt fucking incredible.

"Jesus fucking Christ." I cried out as my entire body trembled on her tongue, my hips rolling into her, as my entire body bowed. My entire body rushed with euphoria.

She kissed my clit, before expertly helping me raise my hips off of her. My thighs and hips were both aching from the process, but I was sure as hell not complaining.

I found my place beside her, and instinctively intertwined my legs with hers, kissing her shoulder before her head turned. Her lips sought out mine once again and we shared my taste on her tongue.

"Next time, you're coming here for me." I educated her, as her insatiable hands wandered down my side.

"I know." She responded in her arrogant fashion. I couldn't bring myself to care about how currently pleased with herself she was.

"Ahh! Noo!" A high-pitched voice screamed, as Quinn and I were exchanging a grateful and exploratory kiss while our legs were, once again, intertwined.

I snatched the blanket, throwing it over both of us protectively as my two roommates stood a few short yards away from my air mattress.

"I think my eyes are actually burning!" Kurt screeched, and Rachel immediately spun around to put her back toward us.

"I'm checking my sheets!" Kurt announced, prancing purposefully into his area of the apartment. Neither Quinn nor I could hold back our laughter as he did so.

"Thanks girls, and here I wasn't sure my life had any more crazy turns to take!" Rachel mumbled, walking swiftly in the direction of the kitchen.

"Oh god, maybe we should have taken our round nine or whatever this was away from the common area." Quinn laughed with a shade of embarrassment.

"Kurt! There is a shirt in the sink!" Berry narked on us from the kitchen, and I bit down on my bottom lip, finding Quinn's gorgeous hazel eyes once again.

"Maybe next time." I reiterated my promise for the future, briefly caressing her lips with mine one more time, taking careful note of her happy sigh, before we both wrapped the blankets around us to make our way into a more private area of the apartment.