Work Text:
"Ohh God", Quinn moans arching her back and grasping the sheets. "Don’t stop."
Morning light fills the room even through thick curtains: like most New Yorkers, Rachel prefers not to be seen by curious neighbours. Especially when she’s with her girlfriend. That’s why the windows have been curtained since the day before yesterday’s evening.
The lovers have their last 15 minutes - well, maybe half an hour - to spend together: work is work, and it starts really soon.
But now an aspiring lawyer at Toksvig and Co, Quinn Fabray, doesn’t care. She’s spread on the sheets in her girlfrind’s apartment where she spends her nights more and more often.
Rachel is down on her and all into business, her tongue moving back and forth, her face rosy from lust and endeavour.
The room is filled with passion and… wait, is it music?
"My Favorite Things" grows louder.
Quinn has never been more unhappy to hear Julie Andrews’ voice, because she knows what’s gonna happen in a second.
Rachel stops. It’s Dads’ tune playing on her phone.
Quinn moans in disappointment.
"Sorry", says Rachel. "I’m awfully sorry". She kisses Quinn’s leg and rolls down from bed looking for her purse. "I have to pick this one."
Quinn is just lying there staring at the ceiling. She was so close!
"Hi Dad", Rachel says. "How are you?" She pauses. "I’m…"
‘…eating beaver’, a little inner voice suggests.
"…having breakfast." She doesn’t have to be more specific, does she? Rachel turns back to Quinn, signs that she needs one (just one!) more minute and walks out of the room closing the door behind her.
As if Quinn doesn’t know how long the Berry family conversations usually last. And it’s sweet actually, and she likes Mr. Berry - both Mr. Berries, it’s just… This morning she wanted some more Rachel exclusively for herself. In fact she can never have enough Rachel. Ever. Yeah, she’s selfish like that.
Quinn reaches for her bra lying on the floor. It’s obviously time for her to go. They’re not gonna have sex after a family matters phonecall. Quinn is getting dressed slowly, she needs extra time to tell her pants from Rachel’s. Next time they shop they are not gonna buy matching underwear. They definitely have to set boundaries, ’cause wearing your girlfriend’s dresses is okay, but wearing your girlfriend’s panties is creepy.
Having sorted everything out - both metaphorically and literally, Quinn takes her bag and glasses and glances at the room for one last time: did she leave anything? This moment the door opens, and there’s Rachel there, wearing a morning gown. She’s surprised to see Quinn fully dressed and ready to go. Oh no, she is late.
"Love, don’t leave, I’m sorry. It’s just… I love them so much, and what if something happens to Dads, and I won’t be there? And if I hadn’t answered I would be thinking about my Dads while having sex, and it’s a bad idea."
Quinn puts her bag on the chair.
"Do you know what’s an even worse idea than thinking about your parents while having sex? Actually speaking to your parents!"
"Are you mad at me?"
Quinn shakes her head and laughs.
"No, just a bit frustrated at the groin area. You owe me one." Quinn kisses Rachel greedily, as if she’s trying to get her not-happened orgasm through her lips.
Rachel pushes a hand under Quinn’s blouse.
"No, no, no, lady, I’ll be late for work."
"Tell them you are sick."
"I did it yesterday, remember?"
"Just a few more minutes…" Rachel’s hand crawls under Quinn’s bra and squeezes her breast. Quinn makes a little noise.
"No, sweety, I have to go home right now to change and grab my laptop and papers."
"You could keep one of your superlawyer suits here if you want to", Rachel says in a low voice, trying to unzip Quinn’s skirt.
"And your laptop. And papers. And all your stuff."
"Are you asking me to?.." Quinn says, taking her girlfriend’s hands off her skirt, because she knows how this is gonna finish.
"Yes, love". Rachel leans in for a kiss. "No pressure."
"I’ll think about it", Quinn says and kisses her softly, then looks at the phone, whispers "Oh shit" and storms out.