A/N: Prompt from an anon; Sam's wandering hands underneath Rachel's skirt under the table at school. Thanks!
It's their eighth time sitting together at lunch, and the first time after they'd officially become a couple after a very sexually charged night celebrating their Regionals win. Having consisted of being locked in a closet together for over an hour when every one else was too drunk to remember to let them out and eventually, overcome with the heat of the small space as well as their already present attraction, segueing in a heated makeout session that had only gotten stronger once they'd been released and shown the couch while everyone else played DDR and egged them on. They'd had to separate once Rachel's dads came to collect her, only agreeing to give Sam a ride to Finn's after Rachel had given them the mightiest of puppy dog eyes, resulting in hot and heavy caressing of each other's hands and fingers in the back seat before furtive kisses in the dark in front of Finn's front door as Rachel had insisted on walking Sam in. They'd texted, they'd called, and now, in the middle of William McKinley High School's cafeteria, they could barely stand sitting next to each other without doing something about it.
Maybe unsurprisingly, it was Sam who cracked first. Without looking away from Puck, grinning at the overenthusiastic description of his latest booty call, his hand slipped under the table. Pinky coming in contact with Rachel's thigh, warm even under the fabric of her skirt, he let out a slow breath and pushed his hand up. His palm now situated on Rachel's thigh, he left it there, practically thrumming with energy.
Rachel closed her mouth around her forkful of salad. Eyes fluttering closed, she breathed in deeply through her nose. Her thigh jumped under Sam's hand. Still, she made no move to dissuade him from continuing, instead breathing in shallowly as her thighs barely spread.
Sam glanced down at her. He swallowed. Slipping his fingers up, towards her knee, his nostrils flared when he met the heat of her bare skin.
Rachel threw her head back like she was fixing her hair from falling, tumbling over her chest, swallowing and making sure to meet Mercedes' eyes. "Yes," she smiled, her free hand suddenly slamming over Sam's, fingernails digging into his fingers, "I've wondered about Mr. Schue's obsession with Journey, too."
Fingers spasming, arm barely jerking in surprise, Sam slid backwards. Drawing Rachel's skirt up with him, the base of his palm stopped at the bunching of fabric; taking a chance, he angled his hand to the side, slipping down into her inner thigh. Rachel trembled, jerking with the roughness of his touch and calluses, fingers a step behind, and when the tips of his fingers came in contact with the soft edge before the barrier of her underwear, her hand slapped over his, turning her head to hide her gasp as a cough into his arm. "Enough," she whispered, looking up at him and meeting his eyes.
She had a smile on her face, though, so Sam relaxed, nodding. "Kay," he whispered out of the corner of his lips, smile growing, taking in the feel of her as much as he could. It was more than he had expected, and, having to shift as her warmth radiated up his arm, it was his turn to squirm when she repaid the favor.
Her fingers were awfully soft, awfully curious, and as they brushed slowly up his thigh, towards his crotch, it was his turn to pretend to care about his teacher's obsession with Journey. Besides, he closed his eyes, stuffing his sandwich into his mouth, it wasn't like she was actually going to feel him out, right?
Her fingers slipped up further, and Sam's eyes snapped open. Oh god. Right?