Summary: "You decided to talk about it, about how you want to touch her skin and read her body over and over. She blushed so sweetly when you brought it up that you just had to kiss her. Later, after getting kicked out of the kitchen by Kurt for "dirtying the kitchen counter," you laid in bed together to continue an actual conversation. You'll always remember how Quinn whispered, 'I want it to be special.'" – one-shot, part of the Wine Coolers and Beautiful Disasters series, Faberry, Rachel's POV, college!faberry
Rated: (light) M
A/N: I wasn't planning on continuing this, but I was on Tumblr and reblogged something about imagining your OTP taking a bubble bath. Scardiesloth convinced me to write a little thing about it, and it ended up fitting perfectly into my WCABD headcanon. So ta-da! Have some fluff to get you through the week!
Wine and Bubble Baths
It's going to be perfect. You're Rachel Berry and nothing you do is less than perfect.
Kurt wanted to make spring break a big deal and go to Europe or something equally as extravagant, but you passed because you knew Quinn would be spending her break in New Haven. Kurt settled for visiting home to see family, and Santana is basically living at her new girlfriend's lately. You sent her a text to keep out of the apartment for the night.
You and Quinn spent most of the winter snuggling and making out as often as possible. It quickly led to clothing being removed and getting caught several times in rather compromising positions by Kurt, Santana, and Quinn's roommate at Yale. You decided to talk about it, about how you want to touch her skin and read her body over and over. She blushed so sweetly when you brought it up that you just had to kiss her. Later, after getting kicked out of the kitchen by Kurt for "dirtying the kitchen counter," you laid in bed together to continue an actual conversation. You'll always remember how Quinn whispered, "I want it to be special."
The next time Quinn visited in February, she laughed when you led her into your room and showed her the intricately designed blanket fort you made. You had bought four broomstick handles and stuck them into the corners of your bedposts to hold up a floral blanket.
"Do you like it?" you asked.
"I love it. It's perfect," she said before kissing your neck.
Once you told her that Santana was working until midnight and Kurt had some gala to attend, a look of realization crossed Quinn's face. So you took her hand, crawled your way into the blanket fort and kissed her fiercely enough for her to forget that it was cold and snowy outside, that there was no place warmer than within your arms.
The early sunset made the lighting dim, and you know Quinn appreciated it because of the way she always pulled your face to hers whenever you took off her shirt. You never stared, just focused on dusky hazel. You were gentle with her, letting your hands trace the scars on her body from the car accident, ghost over the light stretchmarks on her stomach, telling her your fingers and eyes could only ever love her body and what it holds. You made love for hours in that blanket fort, taking breaks for water and breathing each other in as your hands found hers without excuses like those summer nights.
So tonight is going to be perfect. Other than phone conversation and Skype, you haven't seen each other in a month because midterm exams. You know she just finished several papers before her trip to New York, so you spent all morning scrubbing the tub clean. You want to spend these rainy spring days with her the same way you spent winter… and have more sex.
You open the door to a grinning Quinn and before you can say a word, her bags are on your apartment floor and her arms are wrapped around you, ducking her head to place kisses all over your face. You laugh until she silences you by pressing her lips to yours, letting her tongue trace your bottom lip. You let your tongues meet, and you feel your face heat up when you remember how much you love her mouth all over your body – the way you could feel her breath on your sweat-slicked skin.
When you finally part, you grin because Quinn almost looks high. "Hi," you whisper.
"Hi," she says softly.
She looks absolutely lovely as always, but tired. You smile dopily, imagining her dozing off on the train ride, sacrificing sleep to see you. You only take your eyes off of her to pick up her bags and carry them into your room, where you still have the blanket fort set up, but now with a fresh set of blankets; you wanted to keep the smell of Quinn in your room for as long as possible, but eventually hygiene won.
You take Quinn out to dinner, some small quaint place in Williamsburg. You both split a large carafe of wine, so you're both tipsy as you leave the restaurant. When the sky seems to open up, you're about to dash for a cab, but Quinn just takes you by the arm and pulls you out from under the awning.
"What are you doing?!" you exclaim, laughing as she takes your unopened umbrella from your hand.
"This," she says, kissing you with her warm lips as the chilly rain falls around you. You've come to realize that those high school rants about your bucket list and romantic hopes and dreams never fell on deaf ears with Quinn.
You both shiver in the cab, and the cab driver doesn't seem pleased to have two rain-drenched people sitting on his leather seats. You tip him well once he parks right in front of your apartment, and you can't erase the smile on your face as you hear Quinn's teeth chatter beside you while you unlock your apartment door.
"I have something for you," you say, momentarily distracted as Quinn peels her jacket from her shoulders and hangs it up. You lick your lips as you admire the way her shirt clings to her. Eventually, when you meet her eyes, she's got an eyebrow quirked and a smirk on her face. Commence the seduction. "I have to use the bathroom," you end up saying, turning and rolling your eyes as you walk toward the bathroom.
You start the warm water, thank the New York City water gods that the pipes aren't frozen, and pour some bubble bath soaps in before lighting the candles all over the bathroom. You pull your wet clothes from your body before wrapping a towel around you. When you walk into your room, Quinn is standing in her underwear, pulling pajamas out from her bag.
"Don't bother," you say. Now it's your turn to smirk as she looks at you from the legs up.
You take her by the hand and lead her to the bathroom. When she walks in, she wraps her arms around you from behind and whispers in your ear, "This is perfect."
You let the towel drop and turn around in her arms to kiss her. "You're perfect," she says breathlessly as you unhook her bra and tug down her underwear. The remaining articles join your towel, and before she can kiss you, you lean forward and kiss her collar bone, then let your hand trace over her body, your eyes following. She watches you, and you have to resist the urge to skip the bath altogether and just spend her entire visit in the blanket fort, exploring her body and kissing the marks on her body, let her remember the softness of your lips in place of the pain.
"C'mon, beautiful," you say, pulling her toward the tub. You try and step in seductively, but your foot slips slightly, making a strange sound and you end up looking quite uncoordinated. Quinn grabs your arm to steady you and chuckles. "I'm so bad at this," you mumble before sitting in the tub.
Quinn just leans down and kisses the top of your head reassuringly, then climbs in after you.
When she sits across from you, you pout. "Why are you so far?"
She shrugs, picking up some bubbles and blowing them at you. You end up doing the same, giggling because, by the end of it, you both are covered in suds. Quinn makes a bubble beard, making you laugh harder at her goofy behavior.
"I crown you, queen of the bubble bath," Quinn says, placing a pile of suds on your head.
"I'm never letting you drink when you're sleep-deprived ever again," you say with a laugh.
Quinn nods, and you lean across the tub to kiss her cheek. You sit back, but tug her arm and say, "C'mere." When her back presses into your chest, small moans escape the both of you.
"This is nice," Quinn comments, "I'm glad you thought of this."
"It came to me in a dream," you say, kissing the back of her neck as you lightly trail your hands up her arms and begin massaging her shoulders.
You struggle to keep your hips in place when she lets out a low moan.
"Was it a dirty dream?" Quinn eventually says playfully.
"As dirty as a dream with a bathtub can be," you say, kissing her earlobe. "But that can wait. I know you've had a rough week, so I want to take care of you."
Quinn hums as you knead beneath her shoulder blades. You do this for a while, but eventually Quinn just reclines into you, running her hands up and down your thighs lazily as you press kisses to her shoulder.
With her head rested back on your shoulder, you see her eyes are closed, but a content smile on her face.
"Why didn't we do this sooner?" she sighs.
"I think we could say the same thing about a lot of things with us."
"True," she agrees.
Once the water starts to cool, you both get out before you can get too pruney. You step out carefully onto the bathmat, and Quinn envelops you in her towel-cloaked arms, kissing you deeply.
You grab another towel and throw it over Quinn's head before drying her hair playfully. When you pull the towel back and see her messy hair covering her face, she reminds you of a puppy. She kisses you again and helps you dry off. You send her off to your room, but you stay back to blow out the candles so you don't burn the block down.
By the time you get back to your room, Quinn is curled up in a Yale t-shirt and boxers. You quietly pull on your own pajamas before pulling back the covers.
"Hey, sleepyhead," you whisper, "Get under the covers."
Quinn sleepily opens your eyes, "Hi, beautiful," she murmurs, her lips curling into a dreamy smile. She scoots over and slips beneath the covers before wrapping her arms around you. "I wasn't sleeping."
"Of course not," you say, pressing your lips to hers a few times.
"I wasn't," Quinn says into your mouth. "We can still do sexy things," she mumbles. When you part from her, you see her eyes are closed, but she's grinning.
"We can do that tomorrow," you say softly, letting your lips take her pulse. "Just get some sleep."
Quinn hums, pulling you close. Within moments, you feel her muscles relax and hear her breathing even out. You decide that you enjoy the warmth of her embrace so much that you will always crave this part of winter, this closeness and heat that doesn't require sunshine.