HSN Exchange Fic: The Way You Move (Feeds the Flames), for nyafangirl
Title: The Way You Move (Feeds The Flames)
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Rachel/Mike
Warnings: None
Word count:1445
Disclaimer: This Glee fanfiction is based upon the television show of the same name. All characters and situations other than my own are sole property of Ryan Murphy Productions and 20th Century Fox Television.
Summary: Dirty dancing never had an effect on Rachel Berry until she caught Mike doing things she never thought him capable of.
A/N: I’d like to thank my very kind beta, any mistakes are mine alone.
The whole infatuation with Mike Chang started off as an accident. Rachel got a Flip camera as a gift, and of course she had to bring it in to Glee Club practice. Her intention was to discreetly record the session so that she could later show everyone flaws in their technique on an individual basis. The camera was tucked in a corner where it could sit undisturbed, and when club was over she swooped over to grab it without anyone being the wiser.
Rachel waited until she finished her nightly routine before plugging the little camera into the computer and pressing play. Trawling though the footage gave her a small headache; she ended up with twelve pages of neatly written notes by the half-hour mark. As she sipped a glass of water and changed pens, something in the corner of the screen caught her eye. She stopped the video, hit rewind, and played it back to make sure she saw what she thought she saw.
Sure enough, during the “break” where they played around with different songs on a whim and just danced around for fun, Mike was tucked away in a corner of the auditorium. And while Mercedes and Santana led the girls and Kurt in a rendition of Janet Jackson’s “If”, Mike was dancing. To be specific, Mike was dancing alone in a way she’d never seen before, secure that no one was able to see him.
As Rachel watched, spellbound, Mike was grinding like a girl in a rap video: arms crossed at the wrist above his head as he rolled his hips in sensual body waves. It wasn’t an original dance by any means, and it was more than a little trashy to boot. But for some reason, Rachel played that 37 seconds of video over and over, until her vision got blurry and her panties were so soaked that she had to turn the computer off and take another shower.
It took two days for Rachel to draft a plan and put it into action. It was brilliant in its simplicity, really: Oh Mike, as captain of the club I feel that we need to push Mr. Schue in a more heavily choreographed direction, and if anyone could come up with something to convince him to stop giving us throwback moves from the 90’s, it’s you. Flutter lashes, step into his personal space, lower lip bite. Between your moves and my brains, it’ll be a cinch. We can prepare it this weekend. Disarming smile, here’s my address, and don’t be late. Sharp heel turn, hair flounce, and ignore the distressed voice calling after you. A piece of cake; the hard part was going to be once he arrived.
As the appointed hour arrived, Rachel found herself fretting. Her attempts at seduction in the past often ended in a flaming disaster, and though Mike seemed like a genuinely sweet boy, she wondered if she’d be able to handle yet another rejection. Her musings were shut down by the sound of the doorbell; it wasn’t too late to turn coward, to actually work on dance moves as she said. But Mike greeted Rachel with a shy smile when she opened the door, dressed in his tight jeans and button-down shirt, and it just fueled her resolve to see this through.
Rachel led them upstairs to her room, making sure to add a little extra flounce to her step so her skirt would swish. One quick glance back let her catch Mike blushing a little. It widened her smile considerably. She discreetly made sure the AC was turned off, then opened her bedroom door with a flourish. Mike looked adorably uncomfortable in the overt femininity of her room, so she quickly got down to business.
Ten minutes later, the two of them were trying out steps, and Rachel watched as Mike began to fan himself. After twenty minutes, Mike’s shirt was unbuttoned halfway and Rachel was slowly peeling her knee-highs off, checking from the corner of her eye to see if Mike was paying attention. She was pleased to see that he was staring. Rachel assured him that the AC was fussy and would kick in at any moment, which wasn’t quite a lie. If she bothered to turn it on, it would work just fine.
When Mike finally took his button-down completely off, leaving him in a damp wifebeater, Rachel sprung the attack. She chewed her lip thoughtfully, asking if maybe during this verse, what if they threw in /that/ move. He stared at her, confused, until she straightened her spine and looked him in the eye. She wanted to see the one he did during the “If” number. A tense silence slammed into the room; no one moved or made a sound. Mike was wide-eyed and shocked, but Rachel pasted on a smirk worthy of Puck as she sat on her bed and used the remote to flip to a new music track. With a confidence she didn’t feel, Rachel admitted that she caught a glimpse of him off to the side of the stage, and that his dancing looked /really/ sexy.
A smile slow and warm as hot maple syrup spread across Mike’s face, a come-on and challenge all in one, and she got the feeling that this was the best idea she’d had in a very long time. It didn’t take much for Mike to get into the beat, closing his eyes as he rippled his spine in time to the music. Mike spun around so that his back was to Rachel, lifting his arms over his head and pushing hips back and around, back and around. Rachel realized that she was clenching her bedsheets in her fists; the sight before her had her squirming without reserve. Mike had his eyes trained on her, and with a teasing grin he slowly slid his undershirt up to expose his sinewy waist and toned lower back.
Rachel felt a flush burning up her skin, her mouth was dry, and the room was far too stuffy all of a sudden. This was nothing like a shadowy video on a monitor; how could that properly catch the way Mike’s bottom lip looked trapped between his teeth, the way Mike’s silky bangs plastered to his forehead, the trails of sweat that jealously caressed his skin. He was a consummate performer, of course, but Rachel didn’t miss the tightness in Mike’s jeans or the way he was was panting a little. Mike finally took a bold step, lifting the shirt up over his head and tossing it haphazardly to the floor.
Mike positively beamed when he heard the desperate little mewl that Rachel didn’t swallow in time, and as the song changed he calmly crooked a finger at her. She was off the bed immediately, reaching out to run her nails down his back. When he turned around to face her fully, Rachel couldn’t even feel ashamed for staring. Her usual litany of words failed her as Mike turned to face her, that beautiful beaming smile lighting up his face as he pulled her in close.
They moved together like there was an invisible rubber band connecting them, point and counterpoint separating and snapping together, and Rachel was pleased to discover that he naturally moved to her rhythm so it didn’t feel awkward. She wasn’t used to dancing like this, like they were making love in the middle of her bedroom floor, and when she felt his hands smoothing down the sides of her skirt she arched up to met him.
His thigh slid between her legs, and Rachel couldn’t help but release a breathy moan. Mike’s eyes went wide again, surprised at the wetness he could feel through his pants leg. He switched up the chain of command, gripping Rachel’s knee and pulling her flush against him, rubbing his leg against her crotch just to watch her writhe. She wrapped her arms around his waist and grabbed handfuls of his ass, doing what she could to keep in step.
When her tiny moans turned to loud pleas, and Mike’s jeans looked like they might split at the inseam at any moment, Rachel pushed away from him on unsteady legs. They stared at each other again, each of them slick with sweat and breathless. Rachel walked away, leaving her room to the sound of Mike calling her name. She came back after a moment, closing her door to the sound of the AC whirring to life. She threw Mike a coy smile, and as he bent over laughing with relief, Rachel nudged the camera so that it could get a better shot of the bed.
-
Character(s) or pairing(s): Rachel/Santana OR Rachel/Matt OR Rachel/Mike
Do you prefer R or NC-17 smut?: either
Prompts (minimum of 3, no maximum!):
1. Rach/San - discussion of Santana's vocal prowess, possibly why she didn't showcase it earlier?
2. Rachel in a football training jersey (the see-through white ones). And only the jersey.
3. Matt/Mike dancing in the bedroom - it gets Rach hot.
4. Angry, dominant sex. Think this would work best with dom!Santana, but feel free to pick one of the others.
5. Angsty, grieving sex. Possibly linked to the angry? I can just see dom!Santana finally crying when Rach brings her to orgasm.
Things you DON’T want in your story (kinks or sex acts that gross you out, characters you despise, etc.): No anal sex, thanks. Kurt, Will, Sue, any of the adults, really. I don't mind if they have a line or two, just not a large role.
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Rachel/Mike
Warnings: None
Word count:1445
Disclaimer: This Glee fanfiction is based upon the television show of the same name. All characters and situations other than my own are sole property of Ryan Murphy Productions and 20th Century Fox Television.
Summary: Dirty dancing never had an effect on Rachel Berry until she caught Mike doing things she never thought him capable of.
A/N: I’d like to thank my very kind beta, any mistakes are mine alone.
The whole infatuation with Mike Chang started off as an accident. Rachel got a Flip camera as a gift, and of course she had to bring it in to Glee Club practice. Her intention was to discreetly record the session so that she could later show everyone flaws in their technique on an individual basis. The camera was tucked in a corner where it could sit undisturbed, and when club was over she swooped over to grab it without anyone being the wiser.
Rachel waited until she finished her nightly routine before plugging the little camera into the computer and pressing play. Trawling though the footage gave her a small headache; she ended up with twelve pages of neatly written notes by the half-hour mark. As she sipped a glass of water and changed pens, something in the corner of the screen caught her eye. She stopped the video, hit rewind, and played it back to make sure she saw what she thought she saw.
Sure enough, during the “break” where they played around with different songs on a whim and just danced around for fun, Mike was tucked away in a corner of the auditorium. And while Mercedes and Santana led the girls and Kurt in a rendition of Janet Jackson’s “If”, Mike was dancing. To be specific, Mike was dancing alone in a way she’d never seen before, secure that no one was able to see him.
As Rachel watched, spellbound, Mike was grinding like a girl in a rap video: arms crossed at the wrist above his head as he rolled his hips in sensual body waves. It wasn’t an original dance by any means, and it was more than a little trashy to boot. But for some reason, Rachel played that 37 seconds of video over and over, until her vision got blurry and her panties were so soaked that she had to turn the computer off and take another shower.
It took two days for Rachel to draft a plan and put it into action. It was brilliant in its simplicity, really: Oh Mike, as captain of the club I feel that we need to push Mr. Schue in a more heavily choreographed direction, and if anyone could come up with something to convince him to stop giving us throwback moves from the 90’s, it’s you. Flutter lashes, step into his personal space, lower lip bite. Between your moves and my brains, it’ll be a cinch. We can prepare it this weekend. Disarming smile, here’s my address, and don’t be late. Sharp heel turn, hair flounce, and ignore the distressed voice calling after you. A piece of cake; the hard part was going to be once he arrived.
As the appointed hour arrived, Rachel found herself fretting. Her attempts at seduction in the past often ended in a flaming disaster, and though Mike seemed like a genuinely sweet boy, she wondered if she’d be able to handle yet another rejection. Her musings were shut down by the sound of the doorbell; it wasn’t too late to turn coward, to actually work on dance moves as she said. But Mike greeted Rachel with a shy smile when she opened the door, dressed in his tight jeans and button-down shirt, and it just fueled her resolve to see this through.
Rachel led them upstairs to her room, making sure to add a little extra flounce to her step so her skirt would swish. One quick glance back let her catch Mike blushing a little. It widened her smile considerably. She discreetly made sure the AC was turned off, then opened her bedroom door with a flourish. Mike looked adorably uncomfortable in the overt femininity of her room, so she quickly got down to business.
Ten minutes later, the two of them were trying out steps, and Rachel watched as Mike began to fan himself. After twenty minutes, Mike’s shirt was unbuttoned halfway and Rachel was slowly peeling her knee-highs off, checking from the corner of her eye to see if Mike was paying attention. She was pleased to see that he was staring. Rachel assured him that the AC was fussy and would kick in at any moment, which wasn’t quite a lie. If she bothered to turn it on, it would work just fine.
When Mike finally took his button-down completely off, leaving him in a damp wifebeater, Rachel sprung the attack. She chewed her lip thoughtfully, asking if maybe during this verse, what if they threw in /that/ move. He stared at her, confused, until she straightened her spine and looked him in the eye. She wanted to see the one he did during the “If” number. A tense silence slammed into the room; no one moved or made a sound. Mike was wide-eyed and shocked, but Rachel pasted on a smirk worthy of Puck as she sat on her bed and used the remote to flip to a new music track. With a confidence she didn’t feel, Rachel admitted that she caught a glimpse of him off to the side of the stage, and that his dancing looked /really/ sexy.
A smile slow and warm as hot maple syrup spread across Mike’s face, a come-on and challenge all in one, and she got the feeling that this was the best idea she’d had in a very long time. It didn’t take much for Mike to get into the beat, closing his eyes as he rippled his spine in time to the music. Mike spun around so that his back was to Rachel, lifting his arms over his head and pushing hips back and around, back and around. Rachel realized that she was clenching her bedsheets in her fists; the sight before her had her squirming without reserve. Mike had his eyes trained on her, and with a teasing grin he slowly slid his undershirt up to expose his sinewy waist and toned lower back.
Rachel felt a flush burning up her skin, her mouth was dry, and the room was far too stuffy all of a sudden. This was nothing like a shadowy video on a monitor; how could that properly catch the way Mike’s bottom lip looked trapped between his teeth, the way Mike’s silky bangs plastered to his forehead, the trails of sweat that jealously caressed his skin. He was a consummate performer, of course, but Rachel didn’t miss the tightness in Mike’s jeans or the way he was was panting a little. Mike finally took a bold step, lifting the shirt up over his head and tossing it haphazardly to the floor.
Mike positively beamed when he heard the desperate little mewl that Rachel didn’t swallow in time, and as the song changed he calmly crooked a finger at her. She was off the bed immediately, reaching out to run her nails down his back. When he turned around to face her fully, Rachel couldn’t even feel ashamed for staring. Her usual litany of words failed her as Mike turned to face her, that beautiful beaming smile lighting up his face as he pulled her in close.
They moved together like there was an invisible rubber band connecting them, point and counterpoint separating and snapping together, and Rachel was pleased to discover that he naturally moved to her rhythm so it didn’t feel awkward. She wasn’t used to dancing like this, like they were making love in the middle of her bedroom floor, and when she felt his hands smoothing down the sides of her skirt she arched up to met him.
His thigh slid between her legs, and Rachel couldn’t help but release a breathy moan. Mike’s eyes went wide again, surprised at the wetness he could feel through his pants leg. He switched up the chain of command, gripping Rachel’s knee and pulling her flush against him, rubbing his leg against her crotch just to watch her writhe. She wrapped her arms around his waist and grabbed handfuls of his ass, doing what she could to keep in step.
When her tiny moans turned to loud pleas, and Mike’s jeans looked like they might split at the inseam at any moment, Rachel pushed away from him on unsteady legs. They stared at each other again, each of them slick with sweat and breathless. Rachel walked away, leaving her room to the sound of Mike calling her name. She came back after a moment, closing her door to the sound of the AC whirring to life. She threw Mike a coy smile, and as he bent over laughing with relief, Rachel nudged the camera so that it could get a better shot of the bed.
-
Character(s) or pairing(s): Rachel/Santana OR Rachel/Matt OR Rachel/Mike
Do you prefer R or NC-17 smut?: either
Prompts (minimum of 3, no maximum!):
1. Rach/San - discussion of Santana's vocal prowess, possibly why she didn't showcase it earlier?
2. Rachel in a football training jersey (the see-through white ones). And only the jersey.
3. Matt/Mike dancing in the bedroom - it gets Rach hot.
4. Angry, dominant sex. Think this would work best with dom!Santana, but feel free to pick one of the others.
5. Angsty, grieving sex. Possibly linked to the angry? I can just see dom!Santana finally crying when Rach brings her to orgasm.
Things you DON’T want in your story (kinks or sex acts that gross you out, characters you despise, etc.): No anal sex, thanks. Kurt, Will, Sue, any of the adults, really. I don't mind if they have a line or two, just not a large role.