Fic: Gray to Gold
Title: Gray to Gold
Author: cruiscin_lan
Characters: Quinn/Rachel
Word Count: 1298
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, all proceeds would go to the Howard Bamboo Legal Defense Fund.
Spoilers/Warnings: No spoilers, contains mutual masturbation.
Summary: Some people aren't getting any sleep at the pre-sectionals slumber party.
A/N: Written for a glee_kink prompt. Beta'ed by the mellifluous dragynflies.
It was a slumber party to unwind just before sectionals. They'd been rehearsing relentlessly all week, staying later and later each day, when Mercedes suggested it. That was how, on the night before the competition, nearly all the girls on the time plus Kurt had ended up snoozing on the carpet in front of the entertainment center, letting Quinn have the enormous sectional to herself.
She'd had worn the most conservative pajamas possible - flannel pants and a long-sleeved tee. She couldn't hide her baby bump any longer, but at least she didn't have to draw attention to it. It was weird enough to be at a sleepover at Mercedes Jones' house when five months ago Quinn wouldn't have given Mercedes the time of day. It was weird enough that she enjoyed being in Glee - the singing and the dancing and actually being friends with these girls. And it was weird enough that, when Kurt revealed a few boxes of wine (courtesy of April Rhodes, so who knew how old it was?) she was the only one who had to refrain.
Quinn watched as the others slowly got loopier and loopier. Rachel in particular seemed like a touchy-feely sort of drunk; at every opportunity she leaned into Quinn, or let her hand fall into Quinn's lap. In a particularly unwelcome display of affection, she lightly kissed Quinn on the cheek, and made everybody laugh.
Aided by their boozy sleep aid, though, they started falling asleep one by one, leaving Quinn awake by herself. She envied them - even though every day she was more fatigued than the last, she was having increasing trouble sleeping. She lay on the couch in Mercedes' living room, surrounded by sleeping bodies, watching the red numbers on the cable box march on, from two to three to four a.m.
But as the night wore on, Quinn realized that she wasn't the only one having trouble staying in dreamland. She heard one of the figures on the floor sigh; Quinn turned and watched Rachel roll onto her side, smacking her lips sleepily. As Rachel stretched, her hand traced the outline of her breasts, her collarbone, the line of her chin. She covered her mouth as she yawned.
Quinn almost said something to Rachel - there was nothing quite like loneliness late at night - but what Rachel did next made Quinn speechless. She moved aside the blanket that covered her just enough to bare her thighs beneath her long pajama top. The yellow light from the streetlamp outside was cast through the window at just the right angle; Quinn could see Rachel's panties, and she watched as Rachel's fingers slid underneath their waistband.
She felt disgusted by the sight of Rachel masturbating, and yet Quinn was oddly mesmerized. She couldn't look away. She stared as Rachel's fingers stroked the skin beneath the fabric. Rachel's face lit up with pleasure at her own touch, and her breath escaped in delighted sighs. Her chest rose and fell more and more quickly as she began to lose herself in the sensation.
But suddenly Rachel tensed, and stopped - and only then did Quinn realize how heavily she'd been breathing as she watched.
"Quinn, is that you?" Rachel whispered, looking up at the sectional. "Are you awake?" There was a tinge of fear in her voice, or embarrassment - not shame, per se, because Rachel was comfortable with sex. It just seemed that she just wasn't entirely comfortable with being caught.
"It... it helps me sleep, sometimes," Rachel explained, unsure whether Quinn or anyone was listening.
Quinn didn't know whether Rachel could see that she was awake, or if it was a lucky guess, but either way she decided to play it safe and remain silent. She tried to steady her breath, and she closed her eyes just enough that it might look like she was naturally sleeping.
Rachel hesitated for a few more moments, but soon enough she picked up where she left off. She must have decided that Quinn was asleep after all.
As for Quinn, she was totally confused by her simultaneous repulsion and interest. She'd always been taught that masturbation was morally reprehensible, and she'd been convinced that she wasn't all that interested in touching herself anyway. But, for some reason, Rachel seemed to be enjoying it so much. Quinn thought back to her one time with Puck, to all the times she'd ever grinded with Finn. She hadn't really enjoyed any of her admittedly limited sexual experiences at all; she just enjoyed the attention from boys. She'd never had an orgasm, and it seemed that Rachel was well on her way to one on her own, and it made Quinn a little jealous, a little intrigued.
Without thinking, Quinn's hand had found its way down the front of her pajama pants. Her fingers were cold, and she pressed them in the crease of her thigh and waited for them to warm up; that feeling alone was enough to send a strange sensation up her spine. She brushed her fingertips through the soft curls of her hair, working them slowly down to the surface of her skin. She was gentle at first, afraid that she'd break something. Her thighs shivered, and she moved her hand deeper between her legs. One finger, two fingers - she found her center, slick and wet and warm, and hesitantly she let herself in.
It wasn't as weird as she thought it would be, but it definitely didn't feel good.
Quinn struggled to keep her breathing quiet as she looked over at Rachel, watching intently now. She could see Rachel's fingers through the thin cotton of her panties - they moved in and out and around in ways Quinn didn't understand, but she could try to imitate them. She traced her slit the way Rachel traced hers; it was infinitely more exciting now that her fingers were slicked with her own wetness. She could feel her heart start racing. When she reached her clit (is that where it is?) she stopped. She needed to watch Rachel again, to see what the next step was.
By now the dawn had cast a dull gray light in through the window, and everything could be seen more clearly. Quinn glanced at the space between Rachel's legs, but it seemed that Rachel was no longer operating with any rhyme or reason. She had started touching herself with increasing speed - more frenzied, caught up in her own pleasure.
Confused, Quinn lifted her gaze a little higher, but she was horrified to see Rachel staring back at her, heavy-lidded and intense. A deep blush arose in Rachel's cheeks, but she was too far gone to stop now. She gasped as her body was jolted as though with an electric shock, her eyelashes fluttering.
There was a tense silence for a few brief moments as Rachel sighed and relaxed. Quinn bit her lip, afraid that one of the others in the room might start to stir, but equal or greater than that fear was the rush she'd gotten from watching Rachel come. After Rachel seemed to regain herself, Quinn couldn't keep herself from asking. "Was it that good?"
A languid smile surfaced on Rachel's face. "It was really good," she replied. "What about yours?"
"You're drunk," Quinn replied.
"Keep trying," Rachel told her, her voice low and marred from lack of sleep and so sexy that it made Quinn shudder. "Is this your first time?"
"Go back to sleep," Quinn told her.
Rachel breathed deeply and set her head back down against her arm as a makeshift pillow. Quinn waited until she could hear Rachel snoozing before she decided to follow her advice.
The light had turned from gray to gold when Quinn, thinking of Rachel's sleepy gaze, finally found that elusive orgasm.
Author: cruiscin_lan
Characters: Quinn/Rachel
Word Count: 1298
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, all proceeds would go to the Howard Bamboo Legal Defense Fund.
Spoilers/Warnings: No spoilers, contains mutual masturbation.
Summary: Some people aren't getting any sleep at the pre-sectionals slumber party.
A/N: Written for a glee_kink prompt. Beta'ed by the mellifluous dragynflies.
It was a slumber party to unwind just before sectionals. They'd been rehearsing relentlessly all week, staying later and later each day, when Mercedes suggested it. That was how, on the night before the competition, nearly all the girls on the time plus Kurt had ended up snoozing on the carpet in front of the entertainment center, letting Quinn have the enormous sectional to herself.
She'd had worn the most conservative pajamas possible - flannel pants and a long-sleeved tee. She couldn't hide her baby bump any longer, but at least she didn't have to draw attention to it. It was weird enough to be at a sleepover at Mercedes Jones' house when five months ago Quinn wouldn't have given Mercedes the time of day. It was weird enough that she enjoyed being in Glee - the singing and the dancing and actually being friends with these girls. And it was weird enough that, when Kurt revealed a few boxes of wine (courtesy of April Rhodes, so who knew how old it was?) she was the only one who had to refrain.
Quinn watched as the others slowly got loopier and loopier. Rachel in particular seemed like a touchy-feely sort of drunk; at every opportunity she leaned into Quinn, or let her hand fall into Quinn's lap. In a particularly unwelcome display of affection, she lightly kissed Quinn on the cheek, and made everybody laugh.
Aided by their boozy sleep aid, though, they started falling asleep one by one, leaving Quinn awake by herself. She envied them - even though every day she was more fatigued than the last, she was having increasing trouble sleeping. She lay on the couch in Mercedes' living room, surrounded by sleeping bodies, watching the red numbers on the cable box march on, from two to three to four a.m.
But as the night wore on, Quinn realized that she wasn't the only one having trouble staying in dreamland. She heard one of the figures on the floor sigh; Quinn turned and watched Rachel roll onto her side, smacking her lips sleepily. As Rachel stretched, her hand traced the outline of her breasts, her collarbone, the line of her chin. She covered her mouth as she yawned.
Quinn almost said something to Rachel - there was nothing quite like loneliness late at night - but what Rachel did next made Quinn speechless. She moved aside the blanket that covered her just enough to bare her thighs beneath her long pajama top. The yellow light from the streetlamp outside was cast through the window at just the right angle; Quinn could see Rachel's panties, and she watched as Rachel's fingers slid underneath their waistband.
She felt disgusted by the sight of Rachel masturbating, and yet Quinn was oddly mesmerized. She couldn't look away. She stared as Rachel's fingers stroked the skin beneath the fabric. Rachel's face lit up with pleasure at her own touch, and her breath escaped in delighted sighs. Her chest rose and fell more and more quickly as she began to lose herself in the sensation.
But suddenly Rachel tensed, and stopped - and only then did Quinn realize how heavily she'd been breathing as she watched.
"Quinn, is that you?" Rachel whispered, looking up at the sectional. "Are you awake?" There was a tinge of fear in her voice, or embarrassment - not shame, per se, because Rachel was comfortable with sex. It just seemed that she just wasn't entirely comfortable with being caught.
"It... it helps me sleep, sometimes," Rachel explained, unsure whether Quinn or anyone was listening.
Quinn didn't know whether Rachel could see that she was awake, or if it was a lucky guess, but either way she decided to play it safe and remain silent. She tried to steady her breath, and she closed her eyes just enough that it might look like she was naturally sleeping.
Rachel hesitated for a few more moments, but soon enough she picked up where she left off. She must have decided that Quinn was asleep after all.
As for Quinn, she was totally confused by her simultaneous repulsion and interest. She'd always been taught that masturbation was morally reprehensible, and she'd been convinced that she wasn't all that interested in touching herself anyway. But, for some reason, Rachel seemed to be enjoying it so much. Quinn thought back to her one time with Puck, to all the times she'd ever grinded with Finn. She hadn't really enjoyed any of her admittedly limited sexual experiences at all; she just enjoyed the attention from boys. She'd never had an orgasm, and it seemed that Rachel was well on her way to one on her own, and it made Quinn a little jealous, a little intrigued.
Without thinking, Quinn's hand had found its way down the front of her pajama pants. Her fingers were cold, and she pressed them in the crease of her thigh and waited for them to warm up; that feeling alone was enough to send a strange sensation up her spine. She brushed her fingertips through the soft curls of her hair, working them slowly down to the surface of her skin. She was gentle at first, afraid that she'd break something. Her thighs shivered, and she moved her hand deeper between her legs. One finger, two fingers - she found her center, slick and wet and warm, and hesitantly she let herself in.
It wasn't as weird as she thought it would be, but it definitely didn't feel good.
Quinn struggled to keep her breathing quiet as she looked over at Rachel, watching intently now. She could see Rachel's fingers through the thin cotton of her panties - they moved in and out and around in ways Quinn didn't understand, but she could try to imitate them. She traced her slit the way Rachel traced hers; it was infinitely more exciting now that her fingers were slicked with her own wetness. She could feel her heart start racing. When she reached her clit (is that where it is?) she stopped. She needed to watch Rachel again, to see what the next step was.
By now the dawn had cast a dull gray light in through the window, and everything could be seen more clearly. Quinn glanced at the space between Rachel's legs, but it seemed that Rachel was no longer operating with any rhyme or reason. She had started touching herself with increasing speed - more frenzied, caught up in her own pleasure.
Confused, Quinn lifted her gaze a little higher, but she was horrified to see Rachel staring back at her, heavy-lidded and intense. A deep blush arose in Rachel's cheeks, but she was too far gone to stop now. She gasped as her body was jolted as though with an electric shock, her eyelashes fluttering.
There was a tense silence for a few brief moments as Rachel sighed and relaxed. Quinn bit her lip, afraid that one of the others in the room might start to stir, but equal or greater than that fear was the rush she'd gotten from watching Rachel come. After Rachel seemed to regain herself, Quinn couldn't keep herself from asking. "Was it that good?"
A languid smile surfaced on Rachel's face. "It was really good," she replied. "What about yours?"
"You're drunk," Quinn replied.
"Keep trying," Rachel told her, her voice low and marred from lack of sleep and so sexy that it made Quinn shudder. "Is this your first time?"
"Go back to sleep," Quinn told her.
Rachel breathed deeply and set her head back down against her arm as a makeshift pillow. Quinn waited until she could hear Rachel snoozing before she decided to follow her advice.
The light had turned from gray to gold when Quinn, thinking of Rachel's sleepy gaze, finally found that elusive orgasm.