glee fic: rachel/quinn
Oct. 15th, 2009 03:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
withimpunityMy Kind's Your Kind
Rachel/Quinn
295 Words
It's Truth or Dare. You have to. Rachel doesn't understand why, its not like there's an authority figure that's going to pop out of the closet and give them detention if they don't follow through with the dare, but her fellow students don't seem to care about that, which is why she finds herself rising to her knees in front of Quinn Fabray.
They all watch, morbid fascination, or maybe its only morbid for her. She's always liked an audience, but this doesn't feel right. She closes her eyes and hears whispers, hears Kurt giggling, hears the low, rumble of Puck's voice in the corner, shudders at what lewd declarations he's making about them both, smells Finn's cologne.
"Sometime this century," Santana snaps impatiently, and Rachel flinches when Quinn's lips touch hers. Warm, too soft, and sticky, sweet like strawberries. She instinctively wets her lips, her tongue slipping briefly into Quinn's mouth. Their eyes fly open, both holding their breath. Rachel's lips tingle in the center where Quinn pressed her sweet, shiny mouth. She can see the smudge on Quinn's lips where her lipgloss rubbed off.
"Okay," Quinn clears her throat. "Who's next?" She takes her place next to Finn and his arm curls around her waist, like a reflex. She looks over her shoulder at Rachel, curls framing her angelic face and smiles, though Rachel can never tell with Quinn if its out of spite or sincere. She licks her lips and tastes strawberry gloss, tastes Quinn. Smells Finn on her sweater from where he wrapped his arms around her and held onto her after school like she was the only thing keeping him here, keeping him alive. Rachel smiles back and takes her place on the floor, on the other side of Finn.
Rachel/Quinn
295 Words
It's Truth or Dare. You have to. Rachel doesn't understand why, its not like there's an authority figure that's going to pop out of the closet and give them detention if they don't follow through with the dare, but her fellow students don't seem to care about that, which is why she finds herself rising to her knees in front of Quinn Fabray.
They all watch, morbid fascination, or maybe its only morbid for her. She's always liked an audience, but this doesn't feel right. She closes her eyes and hears whispers, hears Kurt giggling, hears the low, rumble of Puck's voice in the corner, shudders at what lewd declarations he's making about them both, smells Finn's cologne.
"Sometime this century," Santana snaps impatiently, and Rachel flinches when Quinn's lips touch hers. Warm, too soft, and sticky, sweet like strawberries. She instinctively wets her lips, her tongue slipping briefly into Quinn's mouth. Their eyes fly open, both holding their breath. Rachel's lips tingle in the center where Quinn pressed her sweet, shiny mouth. She can see the smudge on Quinn's lips where her lipgloss rubbed off.
"Okay," Quinn clears her throat. "Who's next?" She takes her place next to Finn and his arm curls around her waist, like a reflex. She looks over her shoulder at Rachel, curls framing her angelic face and smiles, though Rachel can never tell with Quinn if its out of spite or sincere. She licks her lips and tastes strawberry gloss, tastes Quinn. Smells Finn on her sweater from where he wrapped his arms around her and held onto her after school like she was the only thing keeping him here, keeping him alive. Rachel smiles back and takes her place on the floor, on the other side of Finn.