Title: I'm Not Paralyzed, But I Seem to Be Struck By YouRating: M/R/NC-17Fandom: GleeWords: 449.Characters: Quinn, Puck.Summary: Quinn sees something interesting on her way back from the bathroom.Notes: Quite possibly the dirtiest thing I ever have written or ever will write. Set sometime right before Theatricality.
Quinn is passing by Puck's bedroom one night on her way back from the bathroom (she has to pee 4 million times in a day now, lovely) when she hears a groan. She nudges the door open a little with her foot, just to make sure everything's alright. She's stunned when through the crack she sees him just sitting there, eyes closed. That's when her eyes travel downwards and she realizes what he's doing. Oh god.
His hand is on his cock and he's dragging it up and down, thrusting imaginarily as if there's really a girl on top oh him.
And, to her surprise, it is really, really turning her on. Her first coherent thought is to go in and give him a hand, to which another part of her brain responds by gaping openly at this thought. Stupid pregnancy hormones, as if the having to take pee a leak every two minutes wasn't enough. She watches him, grunting and moving up and down in awe. There's an unfamiliar urge taking control of her and she feels herself sliding her hand up her leg and moving her nightgown out of place.
"Oh, come on, come on, babe," Puck moans, his hand working itself more quickly up and down himself. "So close…"
She tries to keep pace with him, faster, harder, deeper, but she's about as skilled at this as she is at keeping Kosher. And his mother's made it pretty clear she's horrible at that. "Just a little more," She adds a finger, leaning against the door frame to get a better angle. "Come on, Quinn."
She looses her balance at that word, and the door cracks open as she tries to grab it, falling to the floor. She watches Puck as she falls, his eyes shooting open. "Q-Quinn?"
She takes deep breathes, or she tries to, somehow she thinks it's coming out more panicked. "Are you okay, is it the baby?" He moves toward her, staring down at her. Then he notices her nightgown, her hand on her thigh. "What…what were you doing?"
She looks him in the eyes, "Nothing. What were you doing?" She stares down south of him, where he's still failed to put the mouse back in the house.
"I, uh, was just…" He looks away from her, clearing his throat. "Nothing."
She tries to get to her feet but falls backwards, he grabs for her hand. Unfortunately, it's the wet one and so is his. His eyes widen and she lets go, waddling down the hall.
"Good night, Puck." She mumbles, pulling her nightgown back down as far as it will go.
"G-good night," He stutters, watching as she stumbles into her bedroom.