Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly.

Author's Note: Response to the prompt Will/April: wearing his shirt.

I could drink a case of you.

___________

"April? Did you fall asleep in there?" Will put the magazine back on his wife's nightstand.

"Just a second!"

"Ok, Schuester, relax. She's just a girl." Woman, the voice in his head told him. A beautiful, tantalizing, sexy, single woman. He was quickly starting to regret letting April stay in his home, while his wife was at a 'Sheets'n Things' convention. However, the possibility that he might be able to stop April from drinking herself into a stupor the way he suspected she normally did, was too irresistible to… resist.

"Did you say something?" And there she was, all 4 feet, 11 inches of her. Her shoulder-length blonde hair messily placed in a ponytail, only a strand of hair falling against her cheek as she walked towards him. Her exposed legs seemed impossibly long for her size as she slowly buttoned the last button on his shirt. Wait, that's my shirt.

"That's my…" His breath caught in his throat. "… my shirt."

"I know, it was in the bathroom. I took it from the hamper. Figured it was ok, since it was dirty, and so am I." She winked as she plopped herself down on the bed, testing the mattress with her body.

"U…" Watching her giggle and smile, he seemed to be unable to conjure up a response. She laughed it off.

"I'd take it off and give it back to you, but I don't think your wife would like it." Will was quite sure she wouldn't. She also wouldn't like the images running through my mind when you said that.

"Would you like some chamomile tea? It'll help you sleep." He walked out of the bedroom and she followed willingly.

"Is there bourbon in it?" Will turned; he wanted to yell, but decided against it.

"Just tea."

"Then I guess just chamomile would be just dandy. Hey, what's with the dirty knick-knacks in the foyer? The couple having what I can only assume is a quickie, based on their position."

"Terri makes them."

"You wife makes dirty knick-knacks? Boy, that's a… Does she take orders, I would just love to have a perverted statue to greet guests. Are they inspired by real life events?" April picked up one of the statues similar to the one she was talking about, rolled her eyes and put it down again.

"April…"

"I'll be nice. I'm just curious about you. Will Schuester. Happily married, or so it seems, to his high school sweetheart, invites his high school crush to his family home. Do you often have female overnight guests when your wife is out of town?" April pinched his butt, making him jump, dropping the mug he was holding. They both bent down to reach for the pieces, Will's eyes were instantly drawn to the way his shirt barely covered her behind as she leaned down.

"Go get the door, I'll pick it up. It was kind of my fault anyway. Hey, maybe it's one of your wife's dirty knick-knack customers?"

"It's Finn. Hey, what can I do for you?"

"I got Rachel to come back. She'll be at rehearsal tomorrow. I guess that means you should go tell--- April." Finn stopped when he saw April standing in the doorway between the foyer and the living room. "I'm not the only one who sees her, right?" Boy, that's weird.

"April is staying here for the night. She couldn't find a motel room, and Terri is out of town, so she's sleeping in my guest room."

"Sure, I get you, Mr Shue." Finn couldn't help but notice the way April's sunkissed legs seemed to glow in the lighting from the living room.

"I know how this looks."

"I'll keep your secret, you'll keep mine."

"What secret?"

"There's no secret, April is here as a friend."

"A friend who's wearing your shirt and nothing else. I'll see you tomorrow Mr. Schue."

"'Night Finn. Don't trip over your eyeballs on your way out." April hadn't missed the way the younger man had tried not to stare, letting his eyes quickly fall on her before looking away again. "Guess he didn't like the shirt."

"He's not gonna say anything, right?"

"I don't care. Let him. You don't think they already have that scenario plotted out? Will. Will, Will, Will… I love that you're so naïve. They already think we're getting it on."

"What's your point?"

"I'm in your shirt, you look so sexy in that tank, and going by how you can't catch your breath quickly enough and the way your hands are shaking, I'd say this is the first time you've been alone with a woman who wasn't your wife for a long time."

"I'm alone with Emma all the time. Sue…"

"Bambi? You haven't fantasized about Bambi since you were 15, and from what you've told me about Sue, the only dream you've had about her were nightmares. Here's your chance, Will, just take it."

"I'm married. Happily."

"If you were, your hands wouldn't be shaking like this, and you would have looked me in the eyes when you said that." Her hands found his white tank top, her soft fingers disappearing beneath the fabric. Her hands travelled further up, until she reached his mid-section.

"Take it off…" He wanted to protest, but the way her fingers felt against his skin made him shiver in response to anything she did.

"I've wanted this for so long…" His lips trailed along her delicate neck before it reached her nose. He placed a sweet kiss on it before finally finding her lips. Her lips felt like velvet, his own lips suddenly felt dry against hers. She moaned quietly, letting him lift her up, willingly wrapping her legs around his waist. His whispers made her shiver in response, her breath tickled in his ear.

"I'm yours for the night." She bit along his collarbone. His body froze. What are you doing? As if a knee-jerk reaction, he backed her against the wall. Standing still to catch his breath, a thousand versions of yes and no blew through his mind. All the reasons why he should do it, and the reasons why he shouldn't. The two strongest being she's wearing my shirt and I've wanted her since I was 15. Her lips on his neck could have persuaded him, but the one reason that told him he couldn't stopped him. I'm a better guy than this, and she deserves better than this. He cared too much to involve her in his marriage, with all its faults and problems.

He released her and let her fall to her feet, steadying her before apologizing as he walked away.

"I'm sorry. Goodnight, April."

"Will!" She was out of breath, and he swore he'd heard her say 'I'm sorry, too' as he closed his bedroom door.

When he was lying in his bed, staring at the room, among the thousand flashes of the things she'd done to his body in that short time, one thought stood out.

He hated that shirt.

___________

And still be on my feet.