Author's Note: Drabble set sometime after the ficlet Hungry For the Meeting.
My Finest Hour
I will give you my finest hour;
The one I spent watching you shower.
~Picture This, Blondie
The water has long since run cold by the time they finish their shower. Rachel put forth a very convincing argument for water conservation, though Quinn had resisted right up until the moment that Rachel stopped talking and started using her mouth in far more persuasive ways. Quinn thoroughly enjoyed the terms of her surrender.
She's currently attempting to towel dry the drops of moisture that still cling to her skin despite Rachel's best efforts to impede her progress with hands and lips. "I'm helping," Rachel insists with a teasing grin, and Quinn barely contains an undignified snort.
"You'd help me right back into that shower if I let you have your way," Quinn accuses with an indulgent smile.
Rachel's grin grows wicked. "I did have my way, thank you very much," she purrs before dipping her head to trail her tongue over a few beads of water on Quinn's naked shoulder, making Quinn shiver. Rachel lifts her mouth to Quinn's ear. "But I'd actually prefer to help you into the bed now."
Quinn reaches down to deliver a playful slap to Rachel's ass. "Your dads will be back soon." They'd only run out to the local grocery store to pick up a few extra things for the weekend since this visit had been a spur of the moment decision—much like taking advantage of the decadent shower in the guest bathroom for activities that were decidedly dirty. "And this house doesn't have any soundproofing."
"We've been living together for two years, Quinn," Rachel reminds her, even though she does reluctantly release Quinn before reaching for her own fuzzy, pink towel. "I think they know we have sex."
"Knowing is different than hearing," Quinn points out with an arched brow as she loosely wraps the towel around her body. "And anyway," she places her hand on the doorknob and begins to pull the door open, "it might be considered rude to come visit them and then lock ourselves away in their guest bedroom so we can f—" Quinn's entire body jerks when her eyes take in the blur of movement out in the hallway. "—uck!" she shouts, slamming the door closed again with wide eyes and a racing heart.
Rachel is at her side in an instant. "Quinn? What's the matter?"
"I'm sorry to startle you, girls," Hiram's muffled voice says through the door. "I just came up to let you know that your dad and I picked up some Chinese on the way home, and dinner is ready whenever you are. It sounded like you were finally done with," and there's a dramatic pause before, "your shower," is said with some amusement.
Quinn closes her eyes in embarrassment, thunking her forehead against the door, and she feels Rachel's body shift next to her. "Um...yeah...Daddy...we'll be down soon. Thanks."
"Oh, there's no rush. Take your time," he says jovially before the sound of footsteps sound away from the door.
When Quinn dares to open her eyes again, she glances at Rachel and takes a small amount of relief in the fact that Rachel's cheeks are nearly as pink as her towel. "So, yeah, they definitely know we have sex," Rachel muses with a chagrined smile.
Quinn puffs out a breath. "I suppose hearing is better than seeing," she reasons in a lame attempt to make herself feel better.
Rachel giggles, leaning over to press a kiss to Quinn's shoulder. "I don't know. You do look very fetching in that towel." A hand slips under said towel and up the back of her thigh.
"Don't start," Quinn warns, biting back a laugh as she swats Rachel's hand away. "Dinner with your dads is going to be awkward enough already." She cracks open the door and peeks out into the hallway to make certain that the coast is clear. It is.
"But you're so cute when you get embarrassed about sex," Rachel coos.
Quinn hums as she lets the door swing open all the way. "Well, considering what your dads probably heard when they came home, I'm sure they'll make sure you find me extremely cute all weekend."
Rachel's smile slips slightly as she remembers which one of them was actually more vocal and the things that had been screamed in the throes of passion—things doting fathers wouldn't be eager to hear from the mouth of their precious baby girl. "Oh," she breathes before clearing her throat. "I...I'm sure my dads will behave themselves. We can just pretend it never happened."
"Baby girl?" Leroy shouts from downstairs. "I know Daddy said to take your time, but if you and Quinn are planning an encore, let us know so we can put dinner in the fridge."
"Oh, yeah," Quinn mutters to a blushing Rachel, "it'll be just like it never happened."