Fic: A Touch Rushed (Will/Emma, PG)
Title: A Touch Rushed
Author: vlegal
Pairing: Will/Emma
Rating: PG
Summary: He was mesmerized.
Disclaimer: Glee and its characters are the property of Ryan Murphy and Fox. I intend no rights infringement.
Author's Note: This is the closest thing to a baby fic you're ever going to get from me, so enjoy.
Emma hated feeling this rushed. Her morning routine was so mapped out, so perfected, that she never had to feel hurried. Except on mornings like these, when her body didn’t even register the alarm going off. She scrambled out of the shower as best she could while trying not to slip. When Will had finally woken her, his lips soft and warm against her cheek and ear, it was half an hour before they had to leave the house. Half an hour! What self respecting person could get themselves out of the house in half an hour?! Scratch that - what self respecting woman could do it in that amount of time?
Emma didn’t have time to figure out the answer as she scurried around the bathroom, reaching for towels and combs and dodging Will as he shaved at the sink. Had it been 20 minutes earlier, she wouldn’t have needed to do this dance. She would have been out of the shower and through most of her morning primping before Will would need the bathroom. But for the last few weeks, waking up in the morning had been all but impossible. Not only was she eating for two now, if felt like she was sleeping for two. She had given Will strict instructions several days ago not to let her oversleep the alarm, after an occasion similar to this one. But today, just like the other day, Will had let her sleep. Let ‘them’ sleep, as he’d told her apologetically. He’d kissed her awake, saying how he hated to disturb ‘his girls’, but she really needed to get up. She hadn’t had the energy to give her usual protests and argue his assumptions that she was carrying a girl. Even as she tried to move quickly now, she felt like she was dragging.
She mentally ran through her wardrobe as she reached past Will for some mousse for her hair. She wasn’t sure which of her skirts she would fit into this morning. It was difficult gauging her new size from day to day, although ‘bigger’ was usually the appropriate label. She knew this was only the beginning, considering she was just over 3 months in. She already felt swollen from head to toe, unused to these shifts in her body. Her towel took this opportune moment to dislodge from where it was tucked over her chest and slip to the floor. Great. She had months to go and she was already too fat for bath sheets.
She braced a hand on Will’s lower back and stooped beside him to grab the towel.
“You ok?” he asked, glancing down at her.
“Yup, but hurry up at the sink, I need to do my makeup,” she urged him, picking up the towel. She shook it out as she rose, scrunching her nose at the idea of wrapping herself back in something that had been on the floor. No, her skin was dry enough. There wasn’t enough time to go get a fresh towel anyways. She’d just go back into the bedroom and start getting dressed.
She quickly folded the towel where she stood and was about to move towards the door when she glimpsed herself in the mirror. Usually she would have spent a moment critiquing her body anytime she was stark naked in front of a mirror. But her eyes were quickly drawn away from her flaws to the form next to her.
Will generally wasn’t one to gawk. She would still catch him eyeing her curves on occasion, but he would usually turn away with a blush when she caught him. The way he was looking at her now, however, was entirely different. He seemed transfixed on her body, but not where she would have thought. He didn’t stare at her breasts or her ass or her thighs. His gaze didn’t wander over her the way it usually did, pupils dilating and breath picking up. No, Will’s eyes were calmly glued to exactly one spot: her tummy.
Emma briefly looked down at her once flat stomach. She had come to realize what people were talking about when they said she would ‘pop’ sooner or later. Over the last week, it seemed like their unborn child had decided to make its presence a little more known. There was no denying the distinctive bump that was now her belly. She hadn’t taken much time to admire it herself, what with the craziness of starting a new term and Regionals looming. She and Will had generally been collapsing into bed early the last couple nights and sleeping like logs, neither having the energy for any sort of evening activity. Their hands would find each other’s as they slept, but it had been more than a few days since they’d touched with more purpose.
She raised her eyes back to Will’s face. His arms were limp at his sides, his razor dangling from his right hand. Tracks of drying foam still marred his cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes didn’t move as Emma turned her body to face him so he was no longer staring at her middle in profile, but head on. She saw his mouth gape slightly and was about to ask what was wrong when realization hit her. This was the first time he’d seen her. Or at least, this version of her. It really wasn’t her style to strut around naked most of the time, so if she was noticing her baby bump in all its glory for the first time this morning, so was he. Except he was more than noticing. He was mesmerized.
Of course he was, she thought. She knew of his unspoken fears. That this would all be taken away from him somehow. That this wasn’t real. He had come with her to every doctor’s appointment, not out of lack of trust for her, but for himself. He struggled to trust himself to fall in love with another fuzzy sonogram and not be destroyed again. He would never admit to her how frightened he still was of losing everything, her included. She had been grappling to find a way to reassure him, show him that everything he’d wanted for so long - her love and their child - was right here and wasn’t going anywhere. The answer seemed to present itself as she stood before him without a stitch of clothing.
“Will?” she said quietly. She almost hated to break the stillness, but she needed his attention. When he didn’t look up, she tried again. “Will?” He slowly dragged his gaze away from her belly and met her eyes. She had never seen him look so bewildered. “Touch me,” she told him. He swallowed hard at her instruction. His eyes flickered down to her body, then quickly back to her face. “It’s ok,” she promised, stepping forward, “You can touch me if you want to.”
She took the forgotten razor from him and placed it on the counter. Eyes darting down once more, his freed hand hovered in the space between them. “It’s ok,” Emma urged softly. With one last look to her face, Will watched as his own fingers made contact with her abdomen, barely brushing her skin. Emma held her breath as the tips of his index and middle finger traced the circumference of the swell in her tummy. Pausing just above her bellybutton, his left hand joined his right, this time both sets of fingers drawing arcs around the bump. Will’s curls were still damp against her forehead when his head came to rest against hers. Completely entranced by the slow movements of his hands, he didn’t notice Emma studying his face. From such close proximity, she could see the colour of his eyes shift from their usual hazel to a brighter green, looking moist and sparkling under the bathroom light. She was wondering if their child would have the same chameleon eyes when Will’s thumbs started to stroke her hipbones.
“Do these hurt?” he asked. His voice sounded as careful as his fingers felt ghosting over her skin. Emma looked down. She had hoped to avoid reality of stretch marks for as long as possible, but there was no denying the discoloured streaks radiating towards her hips. She knew it was vain, but she had been a little bit upset when she discovered her latest flaw the other day. Will continued to caress them, waiting for her answer. Being observed so reverently, Emma suddenly felt anything but flawed.
“No, they don’t hurt,” she assured him. Will nodded, head still pressed with hers.
“I don’t want you to hurt,” he whispered. Emma wasn’t sure if the words were meant more for himself than for her, but they squeezed something in her chest regardless. One of his palms came to rest directly over her abdomen. She felt the slightest increase of pressure, the warmth and weight of his hand a welcome sensation. She had a good idea what he was thinking.
“I haven’t felt anything yet,” she answered to his unspoken question. He shifted the angle of his hand against her, as though testing where best to spend the next several months. “As soon as she moves, I’ll come find you. I promise.” And she would. She’d sworn to herself early on that she wouldn’t keep Will from a single experience to do with their child. Who Emma had apparently also decided was a girl.
His hand moved again, shifting higher. His other hand that had stilled on her hip also began to slip up her body. She saw Will’s eyes drift shut and couldn’t stop hers from doing the same as he blindly explored the rest of her. Over her waist, thumbs brushing her stomach to her ribs. His fingers grazed up her sides, leading a path to her chest until his palms slid over her breasts. The two new bras she’d had to buy the previous weekend were testament to the change in this part of her body as well. Rounder and fuller, it felt like curves existed where there had never been curves before. There was nothing sexual in Will’s gestures as his hands stilled for a moment and then continued to learn her new design. Emma tilted her head and nuzzled his cheek. Nothing ever felt as incredible as being touched by Will. His motions were far more intimate than lust driven, but she couldn’t help the surge of hormones she felt when his thumbs brushed her nipples before slipping back down her torso.
His hands kept moving downwards, farther behind her now, brushing softly over her ass, which was also curvier than before. She felt him smile against her cheek before returning his fingers to her belly.
“I adore you,” he whispered in her ear.
The words made a shiver run up her spine. Without opening her eyes, Emma found his lips with her own and kissed him soundly. One of his hands released her belly and made its way to her neck, burying under her hair. He always touched her this way when they kissed. Ever since a long ago confession that he used to dream of the scent of her hair, how her skin would feel if he ever got to hold her. That said dream had kept him going through some of his darker days at the end of his first marriage. No matter how often he reminded her, the fact that Will Schuester was so in love with her still boggled her mind a little bit. She shivered again just at the thought.
“Oh jeez, you must be cold,” he stated, pulling back with concern obviously etched on his face. “And I’m standing here letting you freeze to death,” he worried. He looked around, likely for a towel or some clothes. “Come on, we should get dressed. We’re late.”
They were late. Incredibly late. Far later than Emma Pillsbury would usually stand for on a Wednesday morning in January. But if there was one thing she hated more than being late, it was being rushed. Seeing Will turn to leave the bathroom, Emma tugged on his wrists to keep him where he was. She smiled at his raised eyebrows. Did he know that he was extra gorgeous when he looked confused? She pulled a little harder on his arms and brought them towards her body. His hands were pliant in hers and easy to settle back against her belly. His thumbs immediately started stroking her skin, making it impossible not to kiss him again. She took a little longer this time, letting her own fingers tangle in his hair as the initially soft kiss deepened. When she pulled away, Will made no motion to detach himself from her middle. It was true she was cold, but she shook her head at Will’s suggestion that they get on with the day. She pressed his hands more tightly against her.
“There’s no hurry.”
**********************************
Feedback is love.
Author: vlegal
Pairing: Will/Emma
Rating: PG
Summary: He was mesmerized.
Disclaimer: Glee and its characters are the property of Ryan Murphy and Fox. I intend no rights infringement.
Author's Note: This is the closest thing to a baby fic you're ever going to get from me, so enjoy.
Emma hated feeling this rushed. Her morning routine was so mapped out, so perfected, that she never had to feel hurried. Except on mornings like these, when her body didn’t even register the alarm going off. She scrambled out of the shower as best she could while trying not to slip. When Will had finally woken her, his lips soft and warm against her cheek and ear, it was half an hour before they had to leave the house. Half an hour! What self respecting person could get themselves out of the house in half an hour?! Scratch that - what self respecting woman could do it in that amount of time?
Emma didn’t have time to figure out the answer as she scurried around the bathroom, reaching for towels and combs and dodging Will as he shaved at the sink. Had it been 20 minutes earlier, she wouldn’t have needed to do this dance. She would have been out of the shower and through most of her morning primping before Will would need the bathroom. But for the last few weeks, waking up in the morning had been all but impossible. Not only was she eating for two now, if felt like she was sleeping for two. She had given Will strict instructions several days ago not to let her oversleep the alarm, after an occasion similar to this one. But today, just like the other day, Will had let her sleep. Let ‘them’ sleep, as he’d told her apologetically. He’d kissed her awake, saying how he hated to disturb ‘his girls’, but she really needed to get up. She hadn’t had the energy to give her usual protests and argue his assumptions that she was carrying a girl. Even as she tried to move quickly now, she felt like she was dragging.
She mentally ran through her wardrobe as she reached past Will for some mousse for her hair. She wasn’t sure which of her skirts she would fit into this morning. It was difficult gauging her new size from day to day, although ‘bigger’ was usually the appropriate label. She knew this was only the beginning, considering she was just over 3 months in. She already felt swollen from head to toe, unused to these shifts in her body. Her towel took this opportune moment to dislodge from where it was tucked over her chest and slip to the floor. Great. She had months to go and she was already too fat for bath sheets.
She braced a hand on Will’s lower back and stooped beside him to grab the towel.
“You ok?” he asked, glancing down at her.
“Yup, but hurry up at the sink, I need to do my makeup,” she urged him, picking up the towel. She shook it out as she rose, scrunching her nose at the idea of wrapping herself back in something that had been on the floor. No, her skin was dry enough. There wasn’t enough time to go get a fresh towel anyways. She’d just go back into the bedroom and start getting dressed.
She quickly folded the towel where she stood and was about to move towards the door when she glimpsed herself in the mirror. Usually she would have spent a moment critiquing her body anytime she was stark naked in front of a mirror. But her eyes were quickly drawn away from her flaws to the form next to her.
Will generally wasn’t one to gawk. She would still catch him eyeing her curves on occasion, but he would usually turn away with a blush when she caught him. The way he was looking at her now, however, was entirely different. He seemed transfixed on her body, but not where she would have thought. He didn’t stare at her breasts or her ass or her thighs. His gaze didn’t wander over her the way it usually did, pupils dilating and breath picking up. No, Will’s eyes were calmly glued to exactly one spot: her tummy.
Emma briefly looked down at her once flat stomach. She had come to realize what people were talking about when they said she would ‘pop’ sooner or later. Over the last week, it seemed like their unborn child had decided to make its presence a little more known. There was no denying the distinctive bump that was now her belly. She hadn’t taken much time to admire it herself, what with the craziness of starting a new term and Regionals looming. She and Will had generally been collapsing into bed early the last couple nights and sleeping like logs, neither having the energy for any sort of evening activity. Their hands would find each other’s as they slept, but it had been more than a few days since they’d touched with more purpose.
She raised her eyes back to Will’s face. His arms were limp at his sides, his razor dangling from his right hand. Tracks of drying foam still marred his cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes didn’t move as Emma turned her body to face him so he was no longer staring at her middle in profile, but head on. She saw his mouth gape slightly and was about to ask what was wrong when realization hit her. This was the first time he’d seen her. Or at least, this version of her. It really wasn’t her style to strut around naked most of the time, so if she was noticing her baby bump in all its glory for the first time this morning, so was he. Except he was more than noticing. He was mesmerized.
Of course he was, she thought. She knew of his unspoken fears. That this would all be taken away from him somehow. That this wasn’t real. He had come with her to every doctor’s appointment, not out of lack of trust for her, but for himself. He struggled to trust himself to fall in love with another fuzzy sonogram and not be destroyed again. He would never admit to her how frightened he still was of losing everything, her included. She had been grappling to find a way to reassure him, show him that everything he’d wanted for so long - her love and their child - was right here and wasn’t going anywhere. The answer seemed to present itself as she stood before him without a stitch of clothing.
“Will?” she said quietly. She almost hated to break the stillness, but she needed his attention. When he didn’t look up, she tried again. “Will?” He slowly dragged his gaze away from her belly and met her eyes. She had never seen him look so bewildered. “Touch me,” she told him. He swallowed hard at her instruction. His eyes flickered down to her body, then quickly back to her face. “It’s ok,” she promised, stepping forward, “You can touch me if you want to.”
She took the forgotten razor from him and placed it on the counter. Eyes darting down once more, his freed hand hovered in the space between them. “It’s ok,” Emma urged softly. With one last look to her face, Will watched as his own fingers made contact with her abdomen, barely brushing her skin. Emma held her breath as the tips of his index and middle finger traced the circumference of the swell in her tummy. Pausing just above her bellybutton, his left hand joined his right, this time both sets of fingers drawing arcs around the bump. Will’s curls were still damp against her forehead when his head came to rest against hers. Completely entranced by the slow movements of his hands, he didn’t notice Emma studying his face. From such close proximity, she could see the colour of his eyes shift from their usual hazel to a brighter green, looking moist and sparkling under the bathroom light. She was wondering if their child would have the same chameleon eyes when Will’s thumbs started to stroke her hipbones.
“Do these hurt?” he asked. His voice sounded as careful as his fingers felt ghosting over her skin. Emma looked down. She had hoped to avoid reality of stretch marks for as long as possible, but there was no denying the discoloured streaks radiating towards her hips. She knew it was vain, but she had been a little bit upset when she discovered her latest flaw the other day. Will continued to caress them, waiting for her answer. Being observed so reverently, Emma suddenly felt anything but flawed.
“No, they don’t hurt,” she assured him. Will nodded, head still pressed with hers.
“I don’t want you to hurt,” he whispered. Emma wasn’t sure if the words were meant more for himself than for her, but they squeezed something in her chest regardless. One of his palms came to rest directly over her abdomen. She felt the slightest increase of pressure, the warmth and weight of his hand a welcome sensation. She had a good idea what he was thinking.
“I haven’t felt anything yet,” she answered to his unspoken question. He shifted the angle of his hand against her, as though testing where best to spend the next several months. “As soon as she moves, I’ll come find you. I promise.” And she would. She’d sworn to herself early on that she wouldn’t keep Will from a single experience to do with their child. Who Emma had apparently also decided was a girl.
His hand moved again, shifting higher. His other hand that had stilled on her hip also began to slip up her body. She saw Will’s eyes drift shut and couldn’t stop hers from doing the same as he blindly explored the rest of her. Over her waist, thumbs brushing her stomach to her ribs. His fingers grazed up her sides, leading a path to her chest until his palms slid over her breasts. The two new bras she’d had to buy the previous weekend were testament to the change in this part of her body as well. Rounder and fuller, it felt like curves existed where there had never been curves before. There was nothing sexual in Will’s gestures as his hands stilled for a moment and then continued to learn her new design. Emma tilted her head and nuzzled his cheek. Nothing ever felt as incredible as being touched by Will. His motions were far more intimate than lust driven, but she couldn’t help the surge of hormones she felt when his thumbs brushed her nipples before slipping back down her torso.
His hands kept moving downwards, farther behind her now, brushing softly over her ass, which was also curvier than before. She felt him smile against her cheek before returning his fingers to her belly.
“I adore you,” he whispered in her ear.
The words made a shiver run up her spine. Without opening her eyes, Emma found his lips with her own and kissed him soundly. One of his hands released her belly and made its way to her neck, burying under her hair. He always touched her this way when they kissed. Ever since a long ago confession that he used to dream of the scent of her hair, how her skin would feel if he ever got to hold her. That said dream had kept him going through some of his darker days at the end of his first marriage. No matter how often he reminded her, the fact that Will Schuester was so in love with her still boggled her mind a little bit. She shivered again just at the thought.
“Oh jeez, you must be cold,” he stated, pulling back with concern obviously etched on his face. “And I’m standing here letting you freeze to death,” he worried. He looked around, likely for a towel or some clothes. “Come on, we should get dressed. We’re late.”
They were late. Incredibly late. Far later than Emma Pillsbury would usually stand for on a Wednesday morning in January. But if there was one thing she hated more than being late, it was being rushed. Seeing Will turn to leave the bathroom, Emma tugged on his wrists to keep him where he was. She smiled at his raised eyebrows. Did he know that he was extra gorgeous when he looked confused? She pulled a little harder on his arms and brought them towards her body. His hands were pliant in hers and easy to settle back against her belly. His thumbs immediately started stroking her skin, making it impossible not to kiss him again. She took a little longer this time, letting her own fingers tangle in his hair as the initially soft kiss deepened. When she pulled away, Will made no motion to detach himself from her middle. It was true she was cold, but she shook her head at Will’s suggestion that they get on with the day. She pressed his hands more tightly against her.
“There’s no hurry.”
**********************************
Feedback is love.