"I Was Stoned On Love, I Guess"

His eyes on her felt like a hand, like a touch, a caress. The green of his irises narrowed under the expanding dilation of black pupils, wider as she moved closer. The soft light reflecting off the water showed the tremble of his lower lip.

"Are you going to do anything?"

Sam blushed. "I'm worried I'll do the wrong thing."

Quinn pushed herself forward through the water. He'd followed her into the pool but had remained at the edge. She closed the distance between them. It was she who'd suggested leaving their clothes at the edge. This close, she could see how hard he was, how it stuck out from his body. Earlier, she'd stared when he pulled down his shorts, but now she played it cool.

"Don't be." Quinn pulled in, her arms over his shoulders, fingers linked behind his head. This close, she felt him pressed against her thigh, hot even under the water. His Adam's apple bobbed when they touched there, below the surface. "I wanted to do this because I love you." She kissed the edge of his mouth. "You can't do anything wrong."

"I love you, too," he offered, but he clearly didn't know how act on it. Sam's hands came to a rest on her hips, his fingers just barely clenched into her naked skin. She could still feel the tension in his frame, the way he was so obviously unsure of what to do.

She wished that he wasn't so nervous. His undeniable awe for her had been endearing, at first, under the papier-mâché planets in the astronomy classroom. But now she wanted him to act on those feelings. She'd brought him here tonight because she thought they were ready.

Sam's body visibly quivered as she pressed herself closer. It felt like a metal rod was against her stomach, searing and unyieldingly rigid. It looked so flushed, even through the water and dim light. He bit down on his lip. "It's ok," she whispered. Quinn brought her hands down onto his shoulders, palms flat against firm planes of muscle, then across his chest. Her fingertips grazed his nipples, earning another hard swallow, visible at his throat.

There was nothing between them but water. Further down, her nails glided through hard valleys of definition at his middle. One arm stayed curled loosely around his slender waist, that hand coming to a rest at his lower back. The other hand continued downwards, through the trimmed patch of curly hair, then, finally, there it was.

She whispered his name as she took him in hand.

Sam instantly straightened, eyes clenched shut. His head fell forward, forehead pressed against her shoulder, into the crook of her neck. A whimper escaped his lips. All she'd done was wrap her fingers around him when he shuddered and shot against her stomach.

"Oh." She didn't mean to say that.

It looked cloudy before it dissipated.

His breath came in hot bursts against her shoulder. She pushed him back, just a little, so she could see his face. Finally, Sam's eyelids flickered open. If his eyes had been wide at seeing her naked for the first time, they were blown open now.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, trying to turn away. "I ruined everything."

He looked so embarrassed, so stricken. Quinn wrapped both arms around him again, didn't let him get away. "You didn't ruin anything." His cheeks were as red as she'd ever seen them. The bright blush extended down his throat to his chest. "Tonight's a big step for us."

His lips pouted. "After that, you probably think I'm a little kid who can't control himself."

"Well, that's a gross image." Quinn cupped his face in her hand, ran the edge of her thumb over his cheek, against the grain of sandy stubble. "Tonight I got to see all of you, Sammy." She walked her fingers up his chest. "So I know you're not a kid." That should probably go a long way to restoring some lost confidence.

It worked. He smiled for the first time since she took her shirt off.

Quinn kissed him again before she pulled him by the hand towards the edge and out of the pool. The night air was getting chilly, and her idea for keeping warm had gone out the window when he'd enjoyed the feel of her hand a little too much. But they were teenagers, and her mother was away on a Caribbean cruise, while his parents thought their eldest son was spending the weekend at church camp. They'd have more opportunities to express their feelings for one another.

And he's not the only one to be nervous about tonight.

She'd changed her mind twice before finally inviting him to stay over. Judy Fabray told her daughter that she would be gone for the weekend, setting off a battle in Quinn's mind between images of Sam being sweet, and caring, and loving, and memories from last year, when she'd delivered a baby as a high school sophomore. There were these feelings she had for him, feelings in her head, in her heart, and in other places, particularly when he was shirtless. But no one knew better than Quinn Frabray where those types of feelings could lead, if you weren't careful.

It startled her a little when she felt his hand touch her bare shoulder.

"You look like you're thinking really hard about something."

Sam had slung a towel around his waist. It hung low on his hips, pulled tight enough that she could see hints of what was covered. Some of those dangerous feelings welled up again, even though she'd seen him completely bare just moments before, and an outline shouldn't be anything special by this point.

Quinn pulled his hand to her lips, kissed his fingers. They were still wrinkled from the water. "I was thinking about how glad I am that you're staying with me this weekend."

He grinned, but a questioning look soon took over his face. "Even after?" His eyes looked back towards the swimming pool.

"Sam, I told you that I loved you. That covers things like you being excited."

They smell like chlorine, so she sends him to her shower first. Her original mental picture of this night had definitely included showering together, but that had the potential to turn handsy, and she didn't want their first time to be in a bathroom. She hadn't wanted it to be in a pool either. The plan had been to get things started with skinny dipping, because that sounded fun and maybe a little dangerous, and then they would open up to one another in front of the roaring fireplace in the living room. She'd planned to turn the statue of the Virgin Mary towards the wall. The mother of God didn't need to see that.

He's already reclined on her bed when she gets back from her mother's bathroom; it was hard to perfectly time a night of sexual intimacy. And she'd taken longer because there's no way she's approaching this with a hair out of place or her makeup smudged. It felt weird, putting on eyeliner to go to bed.

"Wow," Sam said, sitting up when she walked into the room.

Quinn couldn't help but grin. He always looks at her like she's something beautiful, like she's something he can't quite understand. But tonight the curve of his lip, the way that canine tooth shows, the gleam in his eyes; he looks appreciative.

And he ought to be, because a lot of work has gone into this look. How long had she spent at Victoria's Secret? Buying something called a Dream Angel satin slip wasn't cheap, either. But it managed to hit high on her hips and still obscure any stretch marks.

"I kinda feel underdressed. My mom buys my briefs at Wal-Mart. You get six pairs for fifteen bucks. I've got grey, black, blue, dark green. I think there might be two grey pairs. I can't remember the other color."

Santana's right, he has no game.

She interrupted his sartorial musings. "Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"Maybe you should kiss me."

He's gotten a lot better at that. The first time was after their date at Breadstix. He'd later admitted that it was his first real kiss. No surprise there. But in his defense, he was coming from an all boys boarding school. The same night he'd told her that, it was right after their Christmas fundraiser and they'd been dating for a few months, he'd told her that he wanted her to be his first for everything. "When we're ready," he'd added, cutting off her standard speech about the perils of even a little something, something. It always leads to something more.

Sam pulls back from their kiss, but leaves his hand on her bare arm. He's smiling.

"What?"

"Do you remember the first time I tried to kiss you?"

"Your opening line was "Grab my hips," after I'd known you for about an hour. The only thing I knew about you was that you didn't like green eggs and ham."

"And I don't think you liked me very much," he smirked.

"You came on pretty strong." Quinn pressed her hands to his chest, pushing him back towards her bed.

On his back, his hands returned to her hips. "I know I should be coming on strong right now, cause every other dude in the world wants to be where I am."

"But?" She was ready to stop dancing around.

"But I know what you've been through. And before we do anything, you should know that I'm going to take care of you."

From anyone else it would sound sexist. And it would sound stupid. They're in high school, so who knows what their worlds are going to look like in even six months? But after dating him, after singing with him in front of crowds, after kissing him before his parents get home, she's learned that he doesn't say anything without perfect sincerity. He really believes that Avatar is the greatest movie ever made, even though it's clearly boring. He really believes that his precious Tennessee Titans are going to win the Super Bowl, even though they haven't made it to the playoffs since 2008. And he really believes that he can take care of her, and more than that, he really believes that she deserves it.

"I love you, Quinn. More than anything."

She pulls his shirt over his head. He's the most complex man in the world, talking about love while wearing a Captain America t-shirt with matching pajama pants. Oh, and the underwear his mom bought.

He's obviously still unsure and lets her take the lead, not that she's an expert, by any stretch of the imagination. One drunken night and nine months of regret. But she's not going to think about that right now.

Chest pressed to chest, she pulls his arm down between them, puts his hand between her legs. She whispers against his ear, "You can't do anything wrong." She'd said the same thing back in the pool, and it's true. She loves him, and whatever he wants to do, whatever he decides to give her, will be right. Unless he jumps the gun. Once is understandable, but she's going to be really annoyed if that happens again. Because she wants him. Badly.

His hand moves between her legs. When they'd started making out, months ago now, he'd always tried to put his hand on her knee, and then, above her knee. She'd always stopped him, and then they'd take a break to cool off and get back to their homework, the reason they gave his parents to explain all the time he spent at her house.

"Take them off," Quinn whispered when his finger traced the edge of her panties.

When he gets them past her ankle there's this look plastered across his face, a triumphant look she's only seen when he beats a level in Mass Effect. She's glad she rates that highly.

He's still wearing too much. She pulls his pants and underwear down at the same time. He's so hard that it slaps against his stomach before pointing out at her. The head's glistening wet already. They've already seen each other naked this night, but this time he doesn't look nervous. He just looks eager.

Part of her wants to laugh when Sam darts over to his backpack and his dick bounces in front of him. She follows it with her eyes as he comes back with a condom. He gets on the bed, stands on his knees, but she takes the little wrapper from him and opens it. Quinn knows it's impossible for him to get any harder, but she rubs him anyway. He overfills her hand and suddenly she can't wait another second before he's inside her. She rolls the condom over his glans and down the shaft. She's wet enough to take him right now, and she tells him that.

He's clumsy, but she's probably clumsy, too. He's obviously frustrated when he can't get it in immediately. Quinn puts her hand around him again and helps, all the while kissing into his collarbone, only lifting her lips from his skin to whisper that she loves him. Now she's above him, and for the first second it's sharp, but she rocks her body into his and everything suddenly feels smooth and full.

Sam's got his eyes clenched shut, his throat arched back. She's seen that look before.

"If you're thinking about Coach Beiste to keep from coming, I swear, Sam Evans . . ."

He actually laughs. He laughs while they're making love, while he's inside her. He sits up and wraps his arms around her to keep her in place across his hips. "I'm thinking about how amazing you are." Sam pressed little kisses around her mouth before moving to her ear. "That's all I'm ever thinking about."

Somehow he's on top again and she's looking up into his eyes. He's always gushing about her eyes, but she thinks his are beautiful. They're never angry, always caring. Quinn's pretty sure she started to fall in love the day he walked into the choir room with a bruise around his left eye from standing up to Karofsky. That he would do that told you all you needed to know about Sam Evans.

It's not very long before she's almost over the cliff. Or maybe the ocean, because it's coming at her in waves. It's confusing; she wants it to go on forever, but it can't, it feels so good that it almost hurts. He's got an arm braced beside her but the other's between her legs, touching everywhere as he thrusts in and out. Quinn can feel it in her fingernails, in her eyelashes. She has no idea what happened to the boy in the pool. Suddenly he's so sure and deft. He's got his mouth on her throat and she knows she's going to die.

Her muscles lock up around him. She can't think, everything is flowing over. Nothing works and she doesn't care.

When she manages to calm down, she doesn't know how long it takes, there's a lightness, a tingling. And there's Sam, next to her now, leaning over her with a dirty grin on his face. He knows what he's done.

"So, I guess I did alright?"

She has just enough energy to roll her eyes and grab onto him when he tries to pull away.

"I'll be right back," he says with a kiss, this time a small one. She watches him pull off the full condom and get up to throw it away. Walking back to her, his entire body wet and pink and on display, he looks amazing. He looks totally fucked. By her.

These things, what they just did, the first time coming together like that, it's supposed to be awkward and clumsy, fumbling. And it might have looked that way. But that's not how it felt. They'll probably get better at this, but right now, lying in her bed, waiting for him to retake his place next to her, she can't imagine that she'll ever feel better than she does right at this moment.

But that's wrong, because it's immediately better when he comes back and pulls her to him. They're a sweaty tangle of limbs and kissing lips and tired breathing. She's always loved his arms, and now they're linked around her, his skin a ruddy pink where she'd grabbed onto him.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to walk tomorrow."

She'd meant it as a joke, but his face immediately fell. "Did I hurt you?"

She has to reassure him, because for as long as she's known him, he's been a worrier. He worries about the football team losing because he made a bad call. About New Directions taking second because he danced out of step. But she talked him through this worry, and soon he was back to smiling in the afterglow of what they'd done.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?"

Sam chewed on his lip. "Do you mean other than this?"

"We should probably eat at some point," Quinn giggled. But yes, she definitely wants to do this again. They have this weekend before real life has to start again.

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm gonna take you to some super nice restaurant. Nicer than Breadstix. And then we'll do something romantic afterwards, like I'll row you around in a little boat or something. Like one of those boats at the park. And then," his hand slid down to her waist, "we'll come back here."

"And we'll do what?"

"We'll watch Avatar." His abs are rock hard, so it probably hurts her more than it does him when she punches his stomach. "You hit like a girl." Sam kissed the end of her nose. "I feel like people are going to see it on my face that we've done this."

They probably will, because he has the most expressive face and can never hide anything. But as long as he doesn't actively discuss details in the locker room, Quinn doesn't care. She's not going to take out ad space or anything, but there's nothing wrong with the world knowing that she's in love with Sam Evans.

This time they shower together, but it's their first night, and they're tired, so things stay focused on cleaning, even though she cannot keep her hands from spreading soap on his abs. He's right, you could cut glass with these babies. He helps her too, and soon they've run out of hot water.

Sam's fallen asleep in her bed by the time she's finished drying her hair. She's seen him sleep before, twice, actually. First on the bus back from Sectionals, and then when they'd watched an art house film of her choosing in repayment for having watched Avatar twice already. He wakes just enough to stretch his arm across her middle when she joins him under the sheets.

She's exhausted and in love, confident that she'd been right to take this step with him. This year is nothing like last year. This boy is different from anyone she's ever known. When he tried to kiss her the first time, when she turned him down, she told him that she'd been down that path before, and she knew that feeling, "like I need you." Lying here now, Quinn can only smile in the dark. "Duets don't work for me," she'd said. "And I don't need you." How wrong she'd been.

She pulled herself against his chest and fell asleep to the sound of his beating heart.

The End

I was in the mood for Season Two Fabrevans fluffiness! They're just so wonderful together. Glee should've been on HBO or Showtime so we could've seen them have naked sex scenes on a weekly basis. I'd buy that on Blu-ray. Anyway, please review and let me know what you thought! The title comes from Mark Knopfler's excellent song, "This Is Us."