Wednesday, May 11th

I have no words for what happened last night. None. I can't even-

You see? My brain just stops when I start thinking about it. It's like, "Nope! Didn't happen! Nothing to see here!"

Since I can't think about that, here's a new topic:

Papá's coming to dinner tonight! I haven't seen him since we took everything out of my room on Sunday. I should probably plan something for dinner. I think I'll use actual meat for this one and then make a one serving vegan version for Rach. I think I can handle that.

Oh and I found the song that I want to perform for the Glee assignment this week. It's a song that I've been listening to for years but it never really affected me when I heard it. I really listened to it last night while I was doing my homework and it hit me. It might be my new favorite song. I mean it's not much of a stretch from my old favorite song. It's only seven tracks away on the album. I'm going to do the acoustic version, though. I like that one more. Puck already said he'd help me out. I wonder if Trouty Mouth can play the bongos? Maybe I shouldn't call him that when I ask him.

~:~:~

Kurt and I are lab partners in physics today. Literally, nothing is getting accomplished. Well, almost nothing.

"... I could not believe my fashion adept eyes when they were laid upon this... this... I'm so flabbergasted I can't even come up with a decent metaphor."

"Oh my god, you are killing me! What was this bitch wearing?"

Taking a dramatic breath, Kurt finally says, "First of all she was wearing horizontal stripes..."

"Oooo... not the skinniest bitch I'm assuming?" Contrary to popular belief, I have nothing against people who find themselves on the heavy side. I just wish that some of them would dress to their body type. Trust me, I think thin people should do the same. For example, though her choice in colors is often something to be desired, Mercedes dresses to her curves and she looks great every day. Tina on the other hand, who is thin, looks like an idiot most of the time.

"Not even close. Anyways, the shirt was white and light heather gray. If that wasn't bad enough, she decided that crop pants were a good idea..."

"Oh, vomit."

"Oh it gets worse. They were red... and plaid."

"Oh no. Oh my brain hurts just thinking about it. So many patterns!" Seeing Mr. Snorefest coming close through my awesome peripheral vision, "I think this should be Sigma and not Delta. We're getting our greek alphabet representatives confused."

"Mr. Hummel, Miss Lopez, I see you've gotten practically nothing done," he says when he gets to us.

"Actually," I say, flipping over my sheet of paper, "We've gotten almost the whole assignment done."

"Hmmm," he hums through pursed lips and leaves us be.

"When did you do that?" Kurt asks with surprise.

"When you were talking about the sunglasses that your boyfriend bought."

"I think I spent about five minutes talking about them."

"Which was four minutes and fifty-five seconds too long, but plenty of time to get most of this done," I snark out (I looked it up) and then say, "Don't worry you can copy it all."

"I'd like to know why we weren't friends much sooner?" Kurt muses.

"I was a closeted lesbian which made a me an über-bitch and associating with the gays was absolutely out of the question. Now please continue describing the heinous outfit that this mall patron was sporting."

"Oh my god! You're going to love this part. It's the icing on the cake. She had one of those mega-lesbian haircuts," he says in his super gossip voice.

"The Beiber?"

"Worse. The long straight side bang with the rest short and spikey. Like gelled to all angled hell spikey."

"Oh my god. Only the worst thing to happen to lesbian fashion… besides the lady-mullet. But like, seriously? Who decided that either of those were a good idea?"

"I don't know but they better stay away from gay men or we'll never have equal rights."

"Hey, we might have bad hair cuts but at least we're good parents. There are even statistics to prove it. That alone should give us equal rights." So I read. Problem?

"Nope, instead crazy people tell us that we'd just ruin marriage and that we're all going to hell."

"As if straight people don't ruin marriage themselves," I add with a chuckle.

"Hey, my Dad and Carole are doing just fine, thank you very much."

Well, that gave me a pleasant flash into my own family life. I hope my face doesn't show it.

"Hey, you want to start copying this? We only have like five minutes left," I ask trying to mask my discomfort.

"Umm... yeah, that'd be great. Thanks," he says sliding my paper over closer to him. About a minute later, "Um... feel free to not answer me if I'm overstepping, but how are you? I mean like, with, you know...?"

"My mom?" he nods, "I haven't spoken to her since..." I stop myself before I can point to my face where my cut is at the flesh colored scab stage and then say, "Friday. I don't think I'll be speaking to her for a while."

"I'm really sorry about that."

"You know, I kind of wish people would stop saying they were sorry. It is literally no one's fault but hers that she feels the way she does. It isn't my fault, it isn't my Dad's fault and it certainly isn't any of the people who have been saying sorry's fault."

"You are absolutely right. I shouldn't have said that. When my Mom passed away I hated it when people said that to me as if they had anything to do with it. I know it's not really the same." Actually, it almost is, but I don't need to get into that now. He continues, "So then, instead I'm going to ask: how is life at the Berry Residence?"

"With the exception of the fear I experience if I so much as accidentally brush arms with Rachel, it's great. It's like I have second and third dads."

"So they are around!"

"Yeah, they both go into work late and leave work late. That's why it seems like they're never around."

"Everything makes sense now."

Lunch bell.

~:~:~

You thought I was going to tell you about my lunch time rehearsal with Puck and Frog- Sam. Wrong!

My large romantic gestures that just so happen to fall into the Glee assignment for the week, are top secret. Puck and Sam already know that if they say anything to anyone they will be without a testicle for the rest of their lives.

I feel a little cheesy about singing to my girlfriend in front of a bunch of people. However, I am excited to sing it in front of Finn... and Quinn. Gotta keep the kiddies in check somehow.

Anyways, it's History and we all know what that means...

~:~:~

"Okay guys! Who's ready to perform today?"

"I am, Mr. Schue."

Fucking Finn.I swear to god-

"So am I, Mr. Schuester."

Quinn, too?

"I'm ready, Mr. Schue," I finally get out.

After waiting a few breaths for some one else to join in on the fun, Mr. Schuester finally says, "Alright three takers! Who's up first?"

"I'll go!"

Jesus Christ! Fuck you, Finn!

"Whatcha got for us Finn?"

"Uhhh... Jealous Guy by John Lennon."

"Ha!" Oops.

But seriously though, do you know this song? Finn is the biggest idiot I've ever witnessed. He looks like an even bigger idiot singing this song. I'm going to spare you.

~:~:~

The best part of Finn's performance was Rachel's "What the fuck?" face by the end of it. Just saying. Like seriously, this has to be up there with Jesse's Girl and whatever song he sang to Quinn in front of her parents that got her kicked out of her house as one of the stupidest songs he's ever sung in public. Why is he even allowed out of his house?

"Alright who's next?"

Quinn stands up before I can even say anything. She hasn't acted on her lesbian feelings, remember? Don't do anything stupid.

"This is Drunk with the Thought of You by Cheryl Crow."

"Great song Quinn, take it away."

I wish I knew this song so I could be prepared.

"There's something I need to show you
My head in my hands
'Cause I don't understand
When I don't even know you,
How you melted my heart in two"

Uhhhhh...

"I wake up in the morning,
Follow you and then hide
Just to watch you walk by
Comes on me with no warning
I think about you and I get high"

I'm sorry what?

To BrittBritt:
Are you hearing what I'm hearing?

From BrittBritt:
At least she isn't looking at Rach...

"To assure you I even exist
Do I tell you it's you that I've missed?"

No you don't.

"Well if love is a cocktail of all that you do,
I get drunk with the thought of you
I get drunk with the thought of you."

One little look at the end of the song. That's it. Rachel's hand is on my thigh. I think she saw it.

"That was beautiful Quinn," Mr. Schue encourages. Oh, if only he knew, "Okay Santana, you're up. You've got a couple tough acts to follow."

No I don't, "Thanks Mr. Schue. Puck? Tr- Sam?"

"That's right, she's bringing out the big guns," Puck boasts. I smack his strumming arm.

"Okay, so this is an acoustic version of a song by my favorite artist pretty much ever," I gulp down my nerves as best I can and say, "So, this is Head Over Feet by Alanis Morissette."

I turn to look at Puck and he says, "It's all you, bro."

It is. Okay. I give Puck the nod and we're off.

"I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it"

Okay. Yeah I can do this. I did it six times during lunch.

"You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was"

Now, look at Rachel.

"You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault"

That's a "because of Santana" smile. I can totally do this. Just remember you're skipping shit.

"You are the bearer of unconditional things
You held your breath and the door for me
Thanks for your patience"

It's like there's no one else in this choir room but us.

"You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long"

Hopefully Brittany doesn't take that part the wrong way.

"You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault."

Are those tears? Those are Rachel tears that I can handle.

"Was that for me?" she asks as if there's no one else around.

"No way. That was for the assignment. It's really just a coincidence that it pretty much says everything I feel," I say walking back up to my seat next to her.

"Well no matter what it was for Santana, it was great. You sold it," Mr. Schue butts in. Ooo that was like an inadvertent chin joke!

"Thanks, Mr. Schuester."

"Okay everyone, I'll see you all tomorrow!"

Just a car ride away from Rachel and Santana alone time in the Berry house. Can you tell that I haven't had sex in two days days? Actually, that isn't really that long is it?

I'll deal with the Quinn thing some other time. There are clearly more pressing matters at hand.

~:~:~

"Oh fuck, Rachel... you're... oh god... sure that your... mmm... dads won't be home?"

"Do you want me to eat you out or talk to you?" she asks looking up from between my legs. Keeping eye contact with me, she brings three fingers to her mouth, sucks them and enters me with them.

"The... ay querida... the first one... please." Clearly, I am not above begging.

Oh god I hope her dads don't come home early. I don't think either one of us would survive being caught doing it on the island in their kitchen.

"Rachel... oh fuck... ay dios mio... querida... you are so fucking good... I love you!"

"Come for me, beautiful."

Oh I love the things that she says to me. That particular command sends me over the edge nearly every time. Like now. Anything she wants, right? "Oh my-fuck-Rachel!"

I have jell-o limbs. I probably look like an idiot all spread out on the countertop. Okay, I have to get up, "Gimme two seconds, I'll be up in no time, babe. You just... are you sure you were a virgin when we started all this?"

"I'm positive. Come on, off the counter, we're christening your bed next," she says quirking her eyebrow quickly.

"You don't have to tell me twice. Grab my clothes?"

"Done, come on!" she offers her hand and I hop off the counter.

"Wait, we should like Lysol this. I have to prepare dinner here!" I say before she can drag me upstairs. Oh gross. We really should have thought about that.

"Ooo... yeah. Good thinking. I'll meet you upstairs," she says handing me my pants and underwear.

"Okay, babe," I say and give her a kiss.

I get upstairs and in my room, where I see a pile of clothes on my bed. Christ I've been here for like two seconds and it's already a mess. I'll just throw it all in the closet and- what is that? I don't remember putting a shoe box in my closet. Hmmm... I wonder what's in it.

OH MY GOD!

Rachel's been hiding the strap-on in here! No fucking way! Leroy and Hiram would definitely kill me if they found it in here.

"Like my hiding place?" Rachel asks as she wraps her arms around my waist from behind me.

"Ummm... no. Babe what if they had found it?"

She lifts herself up on her tippy toes and rests her chin on my shoulder, "San, they aren't going to go through your stuff. They definitely wouldn't go through a shoe box in your closet. Usually people put really private things in shoe boxes in their closet."

Hmmm... a strap-on is pretty personal, "I guess you're right."

"I know," she says raking her fingers up my thighs.

I've been holding the harness in my hands since before she walked into the room. Honestly, I've always wanted to use one. Well, since I knew they existed. I turn around in her arms with the strap-on still in my hands. Rachel looks down at the harness in my hands and smiles. God, she's beautiful. Her confidence is irresistible. She's always had it when it comes to sex, which I find pretty intriguing considering how very little experience she has... had.

I can't believe I'm going to say this, "I..." breathe, "I think I'm ready."

Rachel's eyes go wide and she says, "Really?"

Deep breath, "Really."

She lets go of me, walks to the door, closes and locks it, "Just in case," she walks back towards me, "Put it on?"

"Help me?" my nerves might not be so obvious if there are four hands doing it.

Not going to lie, I've always wondered what it would be like to have a... one of those… I think I'll stick with what I've got.

When it's on, Rachel steps back and looks at me with her jaw slack. Then she pulls off her shirt, drops her skirt and motions for me to come to her.

I do. We have to push through our fears, right? She pulls my shirt off then unclasps my bra and says, "I trust you."

She reaches back, unclasps her bra and lets it fall. Then, she shimmies out of her underwear and we're both standing in the middle of my room naked, well, almost.

"Rach, you promise you'll tell me if I'm hurting you. Promise. Please."

"I promise."

I believe her.

She starts walking towards me and I start backing up. We do this until my legs meet the bed and she puts her hands on my shoulders, guiding me down.

Wait! This is how she wants to do this? Stop thinking. It's going to hurt and she knows and she's going to tell you if it's too much.

"San, I know it's going to hurt. It's okay. It isn't always going to."

She's right. "You're right."

She gets on me, straddling my legs and leaving the piece of silicon between us. She grabs the base and gives me an encouraging glance. I take it and ask, "Ready?"

She nods and lifts herself up. I bring it forward with my hand and hesitate. Seeing this Rachel grabs my hand and says, "Why don't you do it first? Start with two, then three, then move on."

I nod. I can do that. Two fingers are easy at this point. Three fingers slide in and out without any pain crossing her face. Okay, she can do this.

I can do this.

"Okay," I say pulling my three fingers out and wiping them off on the silicon in between us. My hand lands at the base and I inch it forward, bringing the tip to her entrance. Little by little. Inch by inch.

Luckily, she's on top and she has most of the control. Which is why she got on top of me, I'm just realizing. Man, she's good.

Her first wince of pain comes from the head completely entering her. It's gone quickly and she keeps lowering herself. Another inch in she winces again.

"Are you okay? We can stop-"

Rachel stops my questioning with a fierce kiss and before I know it, her ass is touching my thighs. I break the kiss and look down in between us. She grabs my face and kisses me again. She kisses my cheek to my ear and whispers, "I promise it only hurts a little and it's fading."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

She shifts a little on my lap and lets out a moan that sounds like it came from her stomach. She shifts again, this time lifting herself a little and an even deeper moan escapes.

She's okay. Actually, she's more than okay; she's riding me. Just when I thought she couldn't be sexier, she is. Every time.

She grabs my hands and puts them on her ass and says, "Top me."

"What?"

She grabs my face and says, "Pick me up and turn around. You aren't going to hurt me."

I can do this. Tighten the ass grip, lift, turn and down.

Fuck yeah, I'm good!

"Now fuck me, Santana!"

Slowly, I draw back my hips and remember that the dildo is still upside down when I see her face widen with pleasure. I push back into her hoping to find the spot again. I do. I find it again and again. I imagine what it might feel like if it were actually me doing this to her. As if it were actually me being surrounded by her. Just thinking about it is intoxicating.

"Harder."

Obliging.

What was I so afraid of? She was ready for this. Oh god, the sounds that are coming out of this girl are enough to make me come.

"Come for me, querida. Por favor."

"I... I..."

My thrusts are causing that slapping sound to happen between us and I'm pretty sure I'm also hitting her clit. Her sounds are getting sparse. She's getting close.

"Come for me, bonita."

Silence, eyes wide, then slammed shut.

I slow down my hips drastically and thrust into her only a few more times before I completely pull out of her.

I look down and see the deep purple glistening with her all over it. Is it weird that I want to lick it off? Maybe it is. I'll just take off the strap-on and ummm... I don't really know where to put this. The box... haha... that's funny.

Just hurry up and cuddle with Rachel!

When I finally get myself snuggled with her I ask, "How do you feel?" and kiss her forehead.

"Amazing," she says as she creates Rachel Blanket.

"You're beautiful and much braver than me."

"Stop selling yourself short, Santana."

"I'll try," I say and kiss her.

"I have a secret."

"Spill it, babe."

"I like how you feel inside of me better, too," she confesses, kissing my chest.

"I love you so much."

"I love you, too, beautiful."

~:~:~

Thank god we're eating in the dining room. I don't think I'd be able to handle dinner with the Dads and the girlfriend on a surface we had sex on just a couple hours prior. It's bad enough we did it.

Our Dads get a long really well. They're genuinely interested in what the others have to say. I mean clearly Leroy and Hiram are interested in each other but they seem to be fascinated by my Dad's job. I guess it isn't every day that you meet a neuro surgeon. And Papá has always been interested in architecture so he's been just picking at Hiram's brain.

Rachel and I are just taking it in. Every once in a while we look away from the bromance forming between our dads and smile at how great everything is.

Breaking into one of our moments, Papá brings his attention to me, "Mija?"

"Sí, Papá?" I say letting my eyes linger on Rachel before bringing them to meet his.

He smiles at this and says, "I hate to change the topic and draw you away from Rachel, but I have to tell you this."

"What is it, Papá?"

He takes a steadying breath and says, "Your mother saw your room." My eyes go wide and Rachel gasps. I see Hiram lean forward and Leroy bring his hand to his mouth in anticipation of what my father is going to say next. "She asked me where all of you things were. I told her that you weren't safe in your own home, so we moved you out."

"Wait. That's what you said to her? Did you tell her where I am?" I ask feeling a little worried.

"No, I didn't tell her where you went. She has no idea where you are living. Mija, she isn't going to hunt you down. She loves you."

"She has a really funny way of showing it."

"Rachel, that was unnecessary," Leroy says in his Mufasa voice.

"No, Leroy, she's right," my Dad says, "My wife has a lot to learn. I think she's going to come around. One of those nosy ER nurses asked me if things were alright at home because Marisol has been stealing away to supply closets and crying. She's been going to church..."

"So she's getting through the Five Stages of Grief? I didn't die!" I say raising the volume a little.

"She knows that, Mija. She needs to go through this..."

"Do you mind if I...?" Leroy offers.

"By all means," my father accepts with a hand gesture.

Leroy begins, "I always knew that I was a little different than all of the other kids in school. My parents always knew it, too. My mother wanted to let me do what I wanted, but my father refused to let his 'only son be a pansy,' something I heard him say often. So, to appease him, I played as many sports as I could. I played varsity football and basketball in high school. I played tight end and spent a lot of time with the running back. So much time that I fell for him. Hard. We won the State Championship my junior year and we had a big house party to celebrate it. We were alone in the backyard and he kissed me. It was everything I ever wanted. He told me he was in love with me and that he wanted to be with me, but he was afraid of what people would say. I told him we could be a secret and that no one would have to know. We started seeing each other. We were together through our senior year and no one knew. We were happy.

"One day my mom caught us kissing in my car. She was wonderful. She was only angry that I was afraid to tell her. few months later, my father found out. He kicked me out of the house. I did the exact same thing you did and took everything out of my room and moved in with my aunt and uncle across town. My father called their house one day asking for me a few months after I'd moved out, he wanted to talk to me. I met him at the park where there were plenty of people around. We sat in silence at a picnic table for a half an hour before I finally told him that I was going to go home. He said to me that my aunt and uncle's place wasn't my home and that he missed his son. He said that he realized that I was still the same person. He admitted that it took a lot of my mother and sisters pleading with him, but he got it. He said that he could accept that his son was gay because I was still his son that was going to college on a football scholarship and that I was still everything he could have hoped for in a son. I moved back home. He made comments every once in a while, but he was trying. Now, he loves my husband and he loves his granddaughter.

"Santana, people can change. They just need to do it in their own time. Your mother is going to come around. She does love you, just give her the time she needs."

Both Rachel and Hiram have tears welling in their eyes and my father has a huge hopeful smile on his face. Me, I've jumped out of my seat to wrap my arms around Leroy in the biggest, tightest hug I can manage to accomplish.

"Thank you!" something else wants to come out, "I... I love you!"

Whoa.

"I love you, too, Santana."

Oh my god! My girlfriend's dad just told me he loves me.

"Same here!"

Both of my girlfriend's dads love me.

"Well, if we're all professing our love for each other, Rachel, te amo!" Papá adds.

"Te amo, también, Cris!" Rachel says and leaps into my Dad's arms.

My Dad loves my girlfriend. My girlfriend's dads love me. I love my girlfriend and she loves me. What could possibly be better than this?

Besides my Mom being added to this love fest.

And besides the elimination of the lingering possibility that Quinn is trying to put the moves on my girlfriend that I'm in love with and who loves me.

Other than those two things, nothing could possibly be better than this.

Nothing.