an (1): I have been stuck writing this chapter for weeks and please accept my sincerest apologies for it being put up much later than I thought it would. I honestly didn't want to put up anything I didn't even remotely like, y'know? I think this might be my favorite one, aside the first (and obviously the rest of the fic because it's my baby.)

an (2): A grand shout out to the wonderful justripping (tripupstairs here on ff) because I owe her big time for this shove. Thanks, love!

an (3): Dedicated to my ladies: Pervy, PC, Lellolamb, Marziiporn, and -sarfatis.


The fan swirls in a circle, over and over and over again. I am not quite sure how long I have been awake. My clock has been knocked to the floor, I assume, because it is no longer where it usually is. My only guess is that one of us got angry at the sound of the alarm and swatted it until it shut up, and it eventually fell. I chuckle a little at the thought, but I am quickly reminded of the fact that I have a sleeping body on top of me.

I look down to find a blob of blonde hair on my chest, a hand across my ribs, and a thigh across my own. She shifts a little bit, but settles down just as fast. Her breathing is steady and she feels so warm. I spend a couple of minutes more, just lying in bed, soaking it all in. We've slept a lifetime. I feel like a bear, hibernating in the winter. I swear it has been at least 12 hours. Getting back to my morning regimen after today is going to cost me. But then again, her face snuggling onto my chest is just—wow, am I at a loss for words?

The sun is beginning to shine through the blinds, casting long shadows and peaking gold light over my room. I try to sneak out from under Quinn, but she's heavy and very asleep. She makes an dissatisfied noise, but motions off me just long enough for me to squeeze out. She hums and sighs, moving across to my side of the bed (our side now, I guess) and finds the warmth that left her just a few seconds before.

I slip on a robe and place my extra one on the edge of the bed. There's a little notepad that I had left out on my desk and I take the opportunity to write her a little note. I sign it with a star and I leave it atop the other robe. I take one last look at her before I walk down the stairs.

Her chest rises and falls at an even pace. I can barely see her face beneath all the hair. Her legs are sprawled and arms under her pillow. You look amazing.

.

I'm halfway done with the pancakes when I spot her coming downstairs. She's rubbing her eyes and holding my blanket to her face. Jesus H, how can you be so damn cute?

It's ridiculous, really. My mouth splits into a beaming smile and butterflies just burst into song and dance with hats and leotards and everything. It's an entire musical inside my body right now. My lungs are the MC. I take a deep breath and sigh.

"Morning, Sunshine."

"Mmm, good morning." Her voice is hoarse and sexy. She looks like a cub but she sounds like a lioness. Incredible.

I look back down at the pancakes, flipping one over, realizing I'd nearly burnt one. She sits on a stool across the other side of the counter and watches me. Her head is lazily placed on her palm, with her hair in a complete mess. I try to hide my smile, but I simply cannot.

"What?" She asks softly.

I shake my head and bite my lips, suddenly feeling like a small child. "Nothing."

My smile proves otherwise. "You're lying to me," Quinn replies in a sing-song voice.

"Nope. No, I am not."

"Your little dimple is showing, Rach. The one by your mouth. You totally want to burst out laughing."

I stand for a few seconds—and thank Barbra I removed that last pancake off the pan or it would have gone up in smoke. She noticed my dimple. I'm not sure why I'm so perplexed, but I just stand there and stare at her as a smile creeps onto her face, while I'm sure my own face is on fire.

"You noticed." I say aloud anyway.

Quinn continues to smile and then adds, "I like butter on mine, by the way. And syrup, too."

"They're vegan," I snap out of it. She shrugs a little, not caring. "A-and to drink?"

"Milk."

"Soy, okay?"

.

We eat in silence. The sound of our forks on the plates echoes around the kitchen. I'm standing against the stove facing her, she's still sitting on the stool. Quinn stands and moves over to my side of the kitchen, across the counter where she was sitting, and opens the fridge.

Her legs are bare since she's just wearing a big t-shirt. I don't even remember us changing, to be honest. God, she's just a goddess. Try as I may, I cannot stop looking at her. I absently guide my fork down to the piece of breakfast and take it to my mouth; savoring it, chewing it, swallowing it, continuing to eye her ever curve, skin tone, muscle, vein, everything.

Quinn takes out the soy milk and pours herself another cup, then places it back in the fridge and turns to me.

"Come here," she chuckles and it sounds like angels. "You've got some…"

Her voice fades and turns into a lip bite. I move forward a step and a half. She meets me half way. Right away, my heart starts pounding like a loud and obnoxious drum. I wonder if she can hear it. It's echoing in my head. Her thumb grazes the corner of my mouth, where I'm assuming there was some syrup because I realize it is sticky all down to my chin. Noticing the smearing was done on purpose, I scoff. "Oh, thanks!"

I turn to grab a napkin and play it off like I'm not shaking, but she takes my chin in her hands and gently turns me back to her. "I wasn't done." Then she proceeds to lean close and leave open mouth kisses, cleaning up the syrup on my face, until her lips land lightly on my own.

I moan softly. She feels heavenly. No matter how many times I kiss Quinn Fabray, it always manages to feel like the first time. I somehow end up back against the counter again and the pressure of her whole body flushed against mine is delicious. Her hipbones poke at my abdomen; my hips buck forward eliciting a moan to die for from her.

Our kiss is languid and thorough. Her tongue brushes over mine so gingerly, but the sensation is like lightning. It strikes me in all the right places, like being teased without being properly touched and it is driving me insane. Then, like a wish answered, I feel her fingertips tracing circles on my sides, over my back. My hands snake around her neck and I deepen the kiss.

She squeezes here and there. God, she knows just what to do. I'm reeling and drowning in a sea of pleasure and just from a kiss. It is absolutely thrilling. I want more, I want all of her, but her hand smashes onto a plate of pancakes when I suck on her bottom lip and we break apart.

Her mouth hangs ajar at the interesting feel of mush and sticky syrup—I'm assuming—and she burst out in giggles. I try my best not to automatically join her, maybe show her a bit of sympathy? I mean, it is gross and gooey. But instead, I grab her hand and bring her palm to my mouth. I lick off the syrup. At first I meant it to help, but it turned into something else the second I brought her index finger into my mouth, enveloping it with my lips and swirling my tongue around it, leaving it clean.

Quinn's eyes flutter, suddenly no longer a bright hazel, but a dark color. "Fuck, Rachel…"

She doesn't finish her sentence as she leans into a hungry kiss, her other hand gripping the back of my neck tightly. Jesus, Barbra, Mary, and Joseph. Oh, wow. She wastes no time in slipping her tongue back into my mouth and dragging it slowly across mine, pressing her entire body onto mine. She's burning hot, and I'm sure I'm not far away from it either. I feel myself soak through my underwear as she moans deeply into my mouth. I don't know how much more I can take of this whole no-touching business. I need her.

I need you.

"I need you, too," she whispers huskily against my ear. When did she get there? I said that out loud? God, who cares? My leg lifts and wraps against one of hers. Quinn's tongue now traveling over my jaw. One of her arms is around my back, and I arch right into her when she nips at that spot on my neck. She groans against my skin and her breath is hot and I swear nothing feels better.

Nothing can possibly ever feel better than her body on mine; her seething breath over my skin; her tongue swirling with mine; her moans in my ear; her taste; her everything. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I want her all day and everyday. I want her to be mine to hold and comfort and make feel good. I want her always. I love her. I love you.

She stops abruptly and her forehead rests in the crook of my neck. An exasperated sigh onto my collarbone makes me gasp. I said it out loud again, didn't I? Fuck. Fuck. No, Quinn, please. I cup her face and bring her eyes on mine. She already has tears building, hanging on by an eyelash.

"Quinn, please, just look at me," I beg, my voice sounding so small. I sound like an idiot, but Quinn isn't running away just yet. That's a good sign. "Baby, please."

Her hazel eyes flash to mine. A single tear trickles down her cheek. My thumb catches it and spreads it. She leans in briefly and kisses one off my cheek. I am crying, too. After a few seconds, I know she's not leaving. I look into her gorgeous eyes. She takes a shuddering breath, trying to keep herself composed. "Don't be afraid," I whisper, "let me know you. Please…"

She tries to look away, but I catch her gaze again, "Quinn, please, just-" I don't know what else to say other than please, over and over. What can I say to make you stay, Quinn? "Just—just let me in."

She sighs. Simply sighs. Hazel eyes suddenly hide behind her eyelids. Her chest expands sharply and then releases slowly. Have you made your decision? I wait, impatiently. My heart race picks up dramatically. My chest feels like it is about to erupt.

Then she opens her eyes, tears gone. She holds the back of my neck and pulls me into a small, wonderful kiss. And another one. And another. They travel over my jaw and to my ear and I'm confused and aroused all at once.

I feel her other hand clasp mine, intertwining our fingers. She squeezes tightly just once before she whispers in my ear, "follow me," and tugs my hand, walking to the stairs.