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Blame it on the Alcohol (or the gay, whatever)

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“I can’t believe what you did to my body, I used to have abs!”

When Finn points to Quinn, who’s apparently the ‘angry drunk’, and Rachel hears that sentence come out from the blonde, she can’t help but frown.

Quinn still has abs. Very lovely abs, she might add.

…Not that Rachel has been staring at them during PE when they’re changing in the girls’ locker room. Not at all.

She totally hasn’t been gawping at them since junior year started back up, Quinn getting back into shape and henceforth her position as Head Cheerleader as well, and Rachel totally isn’t transfixed every time at the way abs flex when Quinn pulls on her gym clothes, the toned muscles rippling so sexily Rachel can’t take her eyes off them and just wanting to reach out a little bit and-


Rachel’s straight, or bi, whatever, who cares that the latter includes girls too, since Quinn is a girl, so really she’s capable of being sexually attracted to Quinn, and she is, because well duh, prettiest girl she’s ever met remember, who wouldn’t be, just look at her – perky tits and great ass and perfectly arched brows and a voice that is literally liquid sex and-

Gah, dammit!

Ugh, look, the bottom line is that Rachel is in love with Finn or whatever and wants to get him back, even though she doesn’t really know why when she takes a second and thinks about it, what with his constipated gassy infant face and the fact that he’s an entitled douchebag most of the time, and just SHE’S STRAIGHT AND WANTS HIM BACK OKAY?

Deep breaths Rachel, deep breaths.

But really, holy shit does Quinn looks hot when she’s angry, words tumbling out of her lips as she endlessly yells at Puck.

Good riddance, Rachel thinks, narrowing her eyes at stupid fucking Puck at the thought of why exactly Quinn is mad – blech, speaking of which, that mental image of them doing it is fucking disgusting – but at the moment, she is infinitely more entranced with the way Quinn’s lips are moving, looking way too delectable for both Quinn’s and Rachel’s own good.

It’s here that she forces herself to snap out of her Quinn-induced trance and tunes back into Finn, making the pool of arousal in her stomach dissipate almost immediately at his scrunched up moronic face. Ugh, why does she want him back again? She can’t even stomach the thought of kissing him, the times she had done it before not a pleasant memory in her mind.

Oh yeah, straightness or whatever.

Stupid straightness and stupid boys and stupid Finn and his stupidly stupid stupid-ness, girls are so much better; warm and soft and comfortable and so so pretty, Quinn is so much better.

In fact, she kind of wants to just go up to Quinn a little bit (read: a whole fucking lot) and kiss her senseless, especially since the blonde is single again after dumping Sam’s ass a while back, but that wouldn’t be straight behavior at all, so Rachel resolutely decides that that’s a total fabrication of her mind wanting to stir up some Broadway-worthy drama.

Plus, Quinn would definitely kiss better than Finn, not sloppy and a total turnoff at all like when the boy does it, so of course Rachel would want to try it, nothing else.

Because she’s straight, remember? Or bi, whatever, something like that.

But yeah, back to listening to Finn and his stupidity or something.

She vaguely registers the fact that Finn’s calling her a needy girl drunk and that it’s ‘not cool’, but she’s still daydreaming about Quinn – she still can’t get over how Quinn thinks she doesn’t have abs anymore, how could the blonde simply think that? It’s just pure asinine!

As she thinks about this some more, contemplating the great mysteries of the world and Quinn Fabray, she bites her lip and squints in concentration, wondering how she could get the cheerleader to see that she definitely still has abs and maybe also get her to make out with her.

Wait, make out with her? That’s not an appropriate straight thought!

…Eh, fuck it, blame it on the alcohol. (Or the gay, whatever.)

It’s at this wonderous moment that it all clicks to place, and an imaginary light bulb goes ‘ding’ above her ahead, making a beaming wide smile click into place.

“Uh, Rachel?” Finn trails off wearily. “You have this really creepy look on your face. It’s kind of scary, actually, like when you think of some weird plan or something.”

“Why, I’m just fine Finn, thank you for asking.” Rachel simply grins even wider, a triumphant look on her face as all the world’s and Quinn Fabray’s secrets unravel before her eyes.

She has the absolute perfect idea!

Staggering up to her feet – Finn and his stupid giant six-foot form is a great stool to use – she looks around as she takes another swig of her drink, and loudly proclaims to the room, “Play Spin the Bottle! Who wants to play Spin the Bottle?”

A loud cheer erupts from the group, and locking eyes with Quinn, who’s currently quirking up a brow as she takes a break from attacking Puck, Rachel giggles drunkenly, “Spin the Bottle!”

Oh, this is the best idea ever! Rachel’s proud of herself for thinking of this genius plan, and she mentally pats herself on the back; she’s Rachel Berry, of course everything she thinks of is going to be an amazingly-crafted idea!

Now…for the execution.

The gleam in her eyes probably makes her look like a total maniac, but pffttt, it’s totally fine, she has this master-plan all thought out after all!

She makes sure to squeeze into the spot right next to Quinn in the circle they all form, and she resists the urge to reach out and touch the blonde, who’s right there and being too frigging sexy and making Rachel want to do not-straight-things to her.

As Santana fumes over Brittany making out with Sam, Rachel notes – with mucho delight – that Quinn doesn’t seem jealous that someone’s kissing her ex-boyfriend in front of her at all, almost indifferent to it as she adorns a slightly amused look at the scene.

But seriously, who knew that an apathetic look could look so sexy?

Bisexual thoughts Rachel, bisexual thoughts.

…Wait a second. She’s pretty sure that that saying goes a little bit different than that.

“Rachel, it’s your turn!”

Hm, the odds are so in her favor!

A sly look makes its way onto her face, and she hides her grin (or at least she thinks she does) as she pushes the bottle, ever so slightly so that it doesn’t really move at all, and it lands on…

“Quinn!” she squeals, or more like crackles, who cares, and when Quinn just gives her a languid smirk in return, an intent look in hazel eyes, she can’t help but feel her heart speed up.

“Oh come on, you were totally cheating!” Finn complains, clearly upset that she isn’t draping herself all over him like he expects, and Rachel glares at him.

“Shut up Finn!” she retorts, mad that he’s interrupting the flawless execution of her amazingly amazing plan.

“Guess Gayberry is finally cashing in on Fabgay huh?” Santana slurs, “oh this is great, Q is gonna be wearing her rainbow flag and I can totally get Britts back now!”

The room falls into an uncomfortable silence at that, and after a brief silence of no one daring to speak up, Brittany tentatively says with an undeniable edge of hopefulness, “You- You want me back?”

It’s the awkward confirmation that everyone else in the room needs, and Mercedes asks, “Wait, hol’ up, you two were together? When the hell did this happen?”

“Brittany…” Artie furrows his brows, bemused.

“You guys actually didn’t notice?” Quinn snorts. “You don’t even have to pay much attention to hear or find them fucking in an empty classroom or closet, it’s almost sad.”

“Ooh I knew it!” Kurt’s shrill voice quietly exclaims from the other side of the circle they’ve formed around the bottle.

Shut it, Hummel!” Santana snarls, before turning to Quinn with her eyes narrowed, “and you’re one to talk about closets, the fucking irony, you’re so far back in Narnia it’s laughable, you’re still pathetically pining over the annoying dwarf in argyle!”

“…Huh?” Rachel blinks rapidly, unsure if she had just hallucinated that from the alcohol. Her crush liked her back?

Crush. Wait, crush, what?

…Eh, probably happened sometime when she was staring at Quinn’s abs and straightness went out the window.

Whatever, blame it on the alcohol. Or bisexuality. Meh.

Wait, that means that she can stop with the ‘I-like-Finn’ thing now right? Huzzah, she’d thought the day would never come! See ya later, fucking jolly green giant!

She has Quinn now. Beautiful and smart and sexy Quinn and her beautiful and smart and sexy-ness, muahahahahah!

Speaking of which, the blonde’s fucking delicious-looking lips are moving again, in that angry way that makes Rachel want to kiss it away.

Don’t insult Rachel!” The cheerleader scowls, obviously back in angry girl drunk mode. “And all of you shut up now, Rachel’s spin landed on me and I’m gonna go kiss her now!”

At the words, Rachel’s heart flutters way too quickly, but then the next round of drinks starts to kick in, going up to her sober thoughts and throwing them down from the Empire State Building with a few well-placed ninja kicks, and a haze of giddiness envelops her as she remembers.

She’s going to kiss Quinn Fabray!

“No way, Rachel’s spin was totally rigged, she only pushed it a little bit!” Finn doesn’t cease in his whining, and Rachel resists the urge to go and punch his stupid face for stopping her from tasting Quinn’s pretty prettiness.

Why is everyone stopping her from kissing Quinn, all she wants is to touch those glorious abs and make the blonde fall in love with her, is that too much to ask?

Internally grumbling as she watches the slow cogs in Finn’s brain move, the (dumb idiotic) jock sounds out, “Wait, but…that’d mean that she did it on purpose so that it would land on Quinn, and- what?”

“Oh keep up Finn,” Santana says as she rolls her eyes. “Quinn and Berry are joining the gays, and the midget is totally realizing that she has better options than your fat ass.”

“But- But-” Finn furrows his brows with a frown, obviously using way more brain power than he can handle. “She’s supposed to be mine! I was gonna get Quinn back and then Rachel was gonna be jealous and after a while I would dump Quinn and take her back!”

The room comes to a silent halt here – because did he seriously say that, or was the alcohol making them picture him as more of an entitled moron than before?

“Ha, like I’d ever get back together with you!” Quinn finally breaks the silence, barking out a laugh as she waves off, “been there, done that, now I’m fully with the gay sharks, it’s totally great; girls are so much better than you boy-pigs- wait crap I just outed myself. Shit.”

But at this point, the entire room is too drunk to even really register the words – Rachel is wholly convinced that she’s completely gone insane and is dreaming this entire thing up, but- ooh, that reminds her!

“So can I kiss Quinn now?” she asks, not even caring that she sounds way too overeager and willing. She’s gonna kiss Quinn even if this is a stupid taunting dream and it kills her dammit!

She has a plan, and she’s going to complete it and obtain Quinn’s delicious lips against her own and feel those amazing abs by the end of the day no matter what!

Kurt smirks knowingly in that holier-than-thou way that he has, and haughtily, he chirps, “Eager much Rachel? Well well well, I can’t believe that our top two HBICs are gay, this is splendid news, I’m not alone anymore!”

“Are we seriously letting them do this?” Finn cuts in, a poor imitation of a scowl on his face. “They’re totally just pretending to be gay to get back at me, because no way that every girl I dated is gay, okay?”

“Oh god, this is turning out to be better and better, I didn’t even realize that!” Santana laughs as she practically rolls on the floor in a heap. “Now stop interrupting them making out, I wanna see some action, and maybe Q will finally get her head out of her ass.”

“Yeah dude, why would you want to stop two hot girls making out?” Puck questions, a lewd look on his face that Rachel doesn’t appreciate at all. “You gay now?”

That seems to shut him up, a look on his face remarkably similar to one that of a toddler that didn’t get their way, and Rachel lets out a victory cry in her mind. Finally, score, we’ve been getting interrupted for like way too long!

“Quinn Fabray,” she says as she turns to the blonde, a low edge to her voice that she’s never really experienced before, “I am going to rock your world.”

Quinn’s gaze turns predatory here, almost as if she’s flirting, and Rachel’s heart skips a beat as the blonde drawls, “Oh yeah? …Prove it, Berry.”

And well, Rachel’s never been one to turn down a challenge.

Gladly,” she breathes out in an exhale, more for herself than for Quinn, and then she’s surging forward and locking Quinn’s lips into a deep kiss, barely swallowing down her moan at first contact.

Before she starts to wax poetic about how Quinn is like the best kisser ever, she just has to say one thing first.

Quinn’s face? Is awesome-tasting.

Feeling a hand reaching behind her neck and another tangling themselves into her hair, Rachel smiles against full plump lips, and she climbs over Quinn’s form, straddling the blonde as she leans back against the nearby sofa.

Quinn works her lips skillfully even while drunk, and Rachel is determined to do the same as her hand trail patterns up and down the cheerleader’s sides, one hand playing with the hem of Quinn’s denim jacket lazily.

Briefly, it occurs to her that she’s fucking straddling Quinn Fabray’s lap, but the way Quinn is kissing her senseless is leaving little brain power to think, and Rachel has to refrain from grinding down, needing something to sate the churn between her legs.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” Quinn quietly groans against her, pulling her even closer as they press together tightly in all the right places, and shit, is that a tongue swiping over her lower lip?

“You taste like pink,” Rachel exclaims, almost in awe, and Quinn just chuckles roughly as she pulls her back in for another kiss.

Well well well…it looks like needy girl drunk and angry girls drunk are now horny girl drunks.

Rachel can very honestly say that she has no qualms whatsoever to that.

She briefly gives herself a second to bask in the fact that her plan totally worked and she’s reaping the benefits of it gladly, but then Quinn is forcefully prying her lips apart with her tongue and a soft bite, and who in their right mind can think during that?

Their tongues meet, and it’s like, the best thing that’s ever happened to her since Barbra, and then-

“You’ve two been kissing for way too long, cut it out!”

Finn’s voice in a childish whine almost douses the lust running though her entire body, but Quinn’s tongue is distracting her in the best way ever – what is she even doing with that swirling motion, Rachel feels like she’s on fire – and Rachel focuses her attention at the obviously-more-important thing at hand; kissing Quinn back with all she’s got and making sure Quinn will really feel it, leaving no doubt that she’ll remember this in the morning.

And as to why exactly Rachel wants Quinn to do so? Well, that’s a problem for sober-Rachel and her straightness.

Seriously, sober-straight-Rachel is such a buzzkill, with her friggin straightness, who gave her the right to be all like ‘oh I’m so straight, I totally don’t have a lady-boner for Quinn Fabray and her gorgeous abs’ and chase after stupid boring dickhead Finn?

But yes, that’s a problem for stupid-sober-straight-Rachel.

So for now, she’ll kiss Quinn for as long as the cheerleader allows and maybe some more after that, content to bask in the fact that her plan totally worked and now they’re exchanging sweet lady kisses and- Speaking of which, she still has a part of her epidemic epically epic plan to execute!

“Mm, Quinn,” she mewls in a little moan as she draws back, only to be met with a fierce (and sexyass) growl from the other girl, hand on Rachel’s neck forcing their lips to crash back together.

Tuning out Finn’s endless needling, Rachel’s consumed by Quinn’s demanding kisses, not even caring that they have an audience – and okay, Rachel can admit that her flair for the dramatic is actually quite enjoying the hoots and hollers in the background, even though the thought that other people are being able to see Quinn’s hotness as well makes her rumble with possessiveness.

Really, she’d much rather have Quinn all to herself, and the things that Puck is saying from the sidelines is kind of making her want to puke her guts out, so with great difficulty, she finds it in herself to reluctantly pulls back, putting a hand at Quinn’s cheek to stop the Cheerio from diving back in.

What?” Quinn grumbles, an adorable half-pout on her face. “I already have no abs because of stupid fucking Puck, at least gimme back the Berry kisses!”

“I suppose you like the Berry kisses a lot, don’t you?” Rachel giggles, high on her drunken state, singing internally, Quinn Fabray likes my kisses, Quinn Fabray likes my kisses, ha ha ha!

Quinn nods solemnly at her. “I do,” she admits, a pink flush on her cheeks that might not just be from the alcohol. “…I’ve been wanting to taste them for a long time, actually.”

The quiet confession is something that’s much too sober for both their tastes, and Rachel bites her lip, blurting out the only thing that’s coming to mind at the moment. Rachel-next-morning can deal with the alcohol or straightness or the gay or whatever.

“…You still have abs.”

“No I don’t,” Quinn whines, before her tone turns angry. “Goddamn Puck took them from me, now it’s all just fat down there!”

“Don’t be silly Quinn,” Rachel waves away, offended that the blonde would even think there was an ounce of fat there. “Your abs are like, the best ever.”

At Quinn’s face, definitely about to protest, Rachel leans down a bit and pokes at the blonde’s midriff, delighted when she feels hard muscle through the thin fabric of Quinn’s dress.

“See?” She grins, triumphant as she uses the chance to feel up Quinn some more. “You totally still have abs. Very awesome abs.”

“But not as awesome as before,” Quinn huffs. “I’m gonna murder Puck, I swear.”

I’m definitely not adverse to that, Rachel mumbles darkly in her mind, Fuckin’ Puck making my pretty Quinn all sad-angry, I don’t like it when she’s sad-angry dammit!

With that, she resolves herself to make Quinn not sad-angry anymore, and she frowns as she softly puzzles, “But why do you think that?”

Leaning in even closer, she takes Quinn’s hand in her own and guides it to the blonde’s stomach, forcing her to feel the smooth plane of muscles. “You still have abs Quinn, and they’re really really amazeballs.”

Reaching forward to wrap Quinn into a hug, she snuggles herself into warm arms, saying eh to hell with it with her so called straightness – Quinn is just so so soft and comfy.

“So don’t be angry anymore, kay?” She nuzzles herself against Quinn’s form, loving the way arms are curled around her and granting her endless warmth.

Quinn is the best, she thinks to herself. All curves and cuddly and warm and awesomesauce and ugh I wanna have this every day!

There’s probably something to be found in that line of thought, but Rachel wards that away, not even attempting to open that can of worms tonight.

Quinn seems to be at a loss of words, a flush building itself up her flawless alabaster neck – ugh, speaking of which Rachel really wants to go and lick and suck at it right now – but Santana, the bitch she is, totally ruins the moment as she butts in with a, “Gaybabes, you two done with the stupid feelings yet? We still need to finish Spin the Bottle, in case ya bitches haven’t noticed.”

“But- But feelings are good,” Brittany says. “I like when there’s feelings.”

In the corner of her eye, Rachel catches Santana glaring at Artie after that, but by then, she doesn’t really care anymore, too enraptured with Quinn to pay much attention to the drama.

But feelings really do sound nice.

Especially if they’re lovey-dovey feelings with Quinn.

…Bisexuality, you really gotta do this to me now, don’t cha?

The haze from the alcohol settles around her skin drunkenly, and Rachel locks eyes with Quinn, a light airiness to her voice. “Wanna ditch them and go up to my room and make out all night?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” The blonde smirks.

“Mm,” Rachel hums in return, before getting up, linking their arms together as Quinn does the same.

While there’s a part of her that’s going all ha we’re gonna make out with Quinn Fabray all night this is awesome and our plan is a grade-A success muahahahaha, there’s still that voice in her head telling her that tomorrow is seriously going to be a pain in the ass to deal with, and it’s hard to stop the dread from building up.

It’s then when they reach the door to Rachel’s room that Quinn leans in close and mumbles, “You always smell good Rae; all honey and berry-like, I love it berry much ya know? Hell I think I might love you berry much too.”

It’s a sharp jolt to Rachel’s heart as it skips up rapidly, and there’s a beat where Rachel thinks she’s going to freak out like no tomorrow, but then…she just doesn’t.

Eh, worse comes to worst she figures that she can just blame it on the alcohol. Or the straightness, or the bi-ness, or the gay, whatever.

But as Quinn smothers her in another hug, pressing featherlight drunken kisses to her temple, a rare moment of sobering clarity hits her, and she thinks that she probably won’t.

She’ll just blame it on the fact that Quinn is way too perfect for her own good instead.

(And Rachel will love her berry much for it.)