Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from glee. I don't own the song 'Resistance' my Muse (but I do own a copy of the album it comes from, thank you to Bree ;)).

It's a good song- you should check it out.

AN: So I heard this song, and I know it's probably just because I'm slightly obsessed with Quill, but I just couldn't not write a fic, because I felt this song was written for their pairing.

It turned out a bit longer and more deep and meaningful than I'd originally thought!

Please let me know what you think.

M for consensual smut.


Is your secret safe tonight?
And are we out of sight?
Or will our world come tumbling down?


His voice saying her name is a rush of adrenaline and she takes a deep intake of breath that almost sounds like a gasp.


She's always so happy when he calls.

She swears she can hear him smile.

"Are… are you doing anything tonight?"

He always asks as though he is expecting her to say no. She has no idea why, she supposes it is because he is so careful about their clandestine relationship that his carefulness spreads to her.

"When can I come over?"

"When can you get away… safely?"

This is still fairly new to them.

She thinks about it as though it has been going on forever, because it feels like it should have been.

"I've already warned my mum that I was planning on popping round to see Kurt later…"


His reply is quick and eager. It reminds her that despite the fact that half of their alone time is spent making sure that they are in fact alone, he wants this as much as she does.

"Be careful driving with the ice on the road", he warns her, and her heart swells because no one has ever cared about her as he does.

"I'm leaving now", she says, because she can't wait another minute to see him.

"The door will be open", he finishes.

He is actually waiting at the door, and when she gently pushes it open a crack, she stops as the gap reveals him.

She looks all round her.

They can't sacrifice everything by missing any opportunity to be vigilant.

Then she turns her attention to Will, who hasn't moved and is giving her such an adoring smile she blushes under its intensity.

She slips quickly inside his apartment, and he still doesn't move, and now she's almost standing on his feet and the warmth from her blush spreads through her entire body.

"Hey", he murmurs, and she drags her eyes up his body to meet his.

She manages some incomprehensible noise of agreement.

At that he gives a warm chuckle and slips his hands around her waist.

"You look beautiful", he whispers, his lips inches from hers and his hot breath teasing her.

"You've got chocolate on your neck", she stutters.

"On my neck?"

He's still unwilling to move, in fact she's sure he just tightens his hold on her.

She'll get it in a minute, she decides, but at that moment she doesn't want to break their eye contact, afraid as always that if she so much as blinks the spell will be broken, or worse, he will be gone.

"I made brownies", he admits, "You were talking about brownies in glee with Mercedes and I go past the store on my way home, so…"

It's never usually her who makes the first move. She's usually too scared she'll do something wrong, she's never been in a relationship like this before.

Not meaning that in terms of the forbidden nature of their union, nor the age difference between them.

These things barely even register in her mind.

It's the fact that she's pretty sure what she feels for Will is much deeper and beyond the feelings she's ever had before for anyone, which were more along the lines of loving the idea of them.

But she's getting bolder. It grows with the increasing knowledge that he needs her as much as she needs him.

She caresses his top lip between her lips, then switches to favour his bottom lip in the same manner, swiping her tongue across it as she pulls away.

Now it's his turn to mumble incomprehensibly.

All of a sudden he's crushing his mouth against hers, choosing to reply without words, the only way powerful enough to do justice.

His tongue demands entrance to her mouth which she would never want to deny, and she releases a wanton moan into his mouth as she tastes his tongue.

This is still new to them, they are still exploring new territory. But they both learn quickly, she's pretty sure he knows her post-baby body better than she has allowed herself to know it.

His instincts target and isolate every single method of stirring pleasure inside her, receptive places she never knew she had.

She's feeling particularly bold this evening, and his eyelids flutter in simple appreciation as she backs him against the wall, walking her hands up his abdomen to rest them palm-flat on his chest.

She leaves it until the last possible moment to pull away; she's feeling faint from lack of oxygen, and she's panting and she loves noticing the way his eyes keep losing focus when he stares at her.

He is flustered and ruffled and gorgeous, and together they divest him of his t shirt and they're kissing again before she's barely got her breath back, deep and hungry kisses that build up from hours of 'not knowing' each other at school.

His fingers play at the hem of her top and she's getting impatient, pushing against him, sucking on his pulse point just how he likes it.

He gives a rumbling groan and gets the message, pushing her top over her head as she raises her hands for him.

His chin is slightly stubbly, she feels it now as he scatters kisses across her collar bone with delicious friction, nibbling on the bony prominences to produce keening sighs from her.

In one swift movement, she is now pressed against the wall, and her bra joins their other clothes already on the floor.

She loves his body. She can't deny that.

Of course it's everything else that got them to that stage in the first place, and she's no longer surprised by the fact that she's sure she would still be here if he wasn't a model.

She mumbles something about 'sculpted by angels', muffling her words with her lips pressed to the hard curves of one shoulder.

She hadn't realised she'd even bucked her hips until he released a grunt and changed his attention from kneading her breasts to relieving her of her skirt.

She's struggling with the button above the zipper on his jeans. She often finds that simple tasks become a million times more difficult if he's kissing her (or touching her, or smiling at her… or just looking at her).

He's not wearing boxers and she smiles against his lips at this because she knows he hates not wearing boxers with jeans.

She also knows that if she had walked into his apartment and given off any opposite vibes at all, he would have kissed her sweetly and suffered in silence.

His hands are back on her hips, pushing her up and against the wall, as his legs sandwich hers.

With difficulty, she pulls away from their feverish kissing, because she needs him to do something, she's practically squirming there from his first attentions.


It comes out a lot more needy than she meant it, but this just seems to encourage him, and finally one hand slips between her legs, his finger curling around the material that lies in his way.

"Quinn", he gasps, as her hand grasps his shaft with determined suddenness.

With that he rips the offending underwear away, plunging two fingers together inside her, and assailing her mouth with his tongue with renewed vigour.

He removes his fingers all too quickly.

Her grip tightens, and he hisses as she moves her hand, and she meets his eyes, dilated and lustful, meeting his question of moving this to the bedroom by raising her eyebrow and curving one leg around his.

He responds, lifting her up and pushes a wet open kiss to her mouth before entering her.

They both moan, loudly, and her again, louder still as his powerful thrusts hit right there.

He talks to her into her ear, her neck, her skin on fire. She loves that he talks to her. His words, some nonsense, mostly compliments and all said in this low voice that sends shivers up her arms, she swears could make her fall apart just on their own.

It's his name from her lips and hers from his in a jumbled hot mess.

And he holds her up with strong arms as his legs go weak beneath them.

He gives every ounce of his remaining strength in his muscles to ensure he doesn't drop her.

He wouldn't want his world to fall down.

She's wearing a sheet from his (their?) bed, and he's just in some boxers. They lie entwined together on the couch and she can safely say she'd be happy to just lie in his arms forever.

They eat brownies and watch some romantic comedy and Quinn can't even remember who's in it because she's too busy responding to Will's showing her he can kiss better than the leading male actor.

But she doesn't want anyone else's kisses, even if they are better (and she knows that just isn't possible anyway).

Will they find our hiding place?
Is this our last embrace?
Or will the walls start caving in?

It gets too much one day at school.

They haven't been alone together for just over a week and he's too busy worrying about how he can be alone with her to worry about how ridiculously long a week has seemed.

He notices the wooden stage scenery which are half painted and waiting backstage for the art department to continue working on them tomorrow.

He can't stop glancing over at them all the time they are using the stage in the auditorium for glee club rehearsal.

Quinn cottons on pretty fast.

Usually she lingers at the end of glee, a question ready at the top of her head about the song's arrangement, or her vocals, or the choreography.

Today she has no question prepared, she was beginning to form one at some point, but then he caught her eye and the desire she found in his expression had her mind instantly foggy in reciprocation.

She loves that he allows himself to look at her like that, with raw lust that makes her wonder about the fantasies he's running through.

This is still fairly new but has been going on long enough for her to realise that he feels almost exactly what she does, because after all, he is risking a lot to be with her, and he could have anyone he wanted.

So, as she lingers today, she deliberately folds up her coat into her bag instead of wearing it, and goes as far to take off her sweatshirt, despite the fact that it is chilly in the auditorium; too chilly to be just wearing a thin t shirt.

And he just climbs onto the desk amidst the seats, his legs dangling down and watches her.

She folds her sweatshirt too but it doesn't fit in her bag so she lays it on top.

"You'll freeze Quinn", he smiles, and she whips round to him.

"Not if you warm me up", she says coyly, perching on the edge of the stage.

They may have been standing around 10 metres apart, but even at that distance she can feel his electric energy.

He starts moving towards her, just small steps, and big ones over the chairs in his way.

Her heart rate increases with every step.

"I'll warm you up", he assures her quietly as he approaches.

He doesn't stop, crowding her body with his.

She normally hates people being in her personal space. But not Will. She wants to share everything with Will.

She glances over her shoulder at what she can see of the half-finished scenery.

They've never been quite so daring before, but it's all too much and there's a wild fire inside her which only he can control.

"I think we should have sex backstage", she rushes out, and she won't be disheartened if he denies her this, because she's sure he will make it up to her anyway.

He is very generous.

Instead he gulps, audibly, and his hand is actually shaking as he reaches out to smooth her hair.

"I think we should too", he whispers.

Her heart skips a beat.

"You know I'm not with you just for sex", she says quickly, and is unbelievably glad that he laughs because she sounds so babyish.

"You are the one who wants to cook dinner together tonight and then play monopoly", he reminds her, kissing either side of her mouth.

"I've never played monopoly before", she returns, less shyly now, because this is Will. Her Will.

He just grins and catches her lips in a slow kiss, opposite to the explosive passion she feels inside her.

She fights her very instincts to step away from him and climb onto the stage, smirking down at him as he removes his shoes and socks and sweater vest, tucking them all under his arm to join her.

Not to be outdone, she neatly pushes down and steps out of her red lace panties, swiping them off the floor.

She knows the cheerios uniform will probably stay on and for him this must be a fantasy about to be enacted.

But he will always treat her as though the world revolves around her. He always thanks her (with or without words) for choosing him, and she knows she's got him wrapped around her little finger, but she would do anything for him, and it's the first time she's felt like that.

Between frantic kisses, she's telling him how much she's missed him and she can't resist the temptation to run her fingertips all over his chest so he finds his shirt open as his hot mouth begins its descent to her neck.

He wants to go down on her and she wants him inside her and their tongues fight for dominance in a fiery kiss.

They're still kissing and she's lying on top of him, and she's rolling her hips, desperate for some friction against his hardness.

He's trying to keep his moans quiet, but he knows she loves that he's so vocal.

She manages to get his pants and boxers pushed down far enough, which is a very difficult task when his hands are underneath her cheerios top and caressing and massaging her to distraction.

And she shocks him by positioning herself and thrusting into him, causing him to yelp her name breathlessly.

The only problem with the build-up of anticipation over days or even a week is that the first time back is always over so fast.

He's hanging on, his eyes wild and she can see her reflection in their darkness, she's as wanting with unadulterated desire.

He has his thumb working between them and she's giving everything into this kiss, and he's sweaty and panting and close, and with a gasp he breaks a kiss and finds her earlobe to tug with his teeth.

"Quinnnn", he groans, lifting his hips higher off the floor.

His tongue traces the shell of her ear, and he's so gentle at the same time as being roughly passionate.

She presses her mouth to his nearest skin as she feels a scream rise within her and he lets go with an animalistic grunt thrusting one more erratic time to ensure she's right behind him, collapsing onto his heaving chest and clinging to his arms, her fingertips bruising the hard muscle as she rides out the aftershocks.

It's when they're enjoying the following tranquillity that noises reach their ears.

It was suddenly very apparent to Quinn that the two 'castle walls' were not as good a hiding place as they should be.

If anyone came close enough, they would see Will's shoes poking out from behind them, they would hear their still irregular breathing, they would smell the sex in the air.

She buries her face in his chest and he holds her tightly. He is reassuring her, and she can't bear to think about never again being able to find safety and comfort in his arms.

It's then she notices they've managed to cause one of the castle walls to lean over, and it is precariously balanced on the top of a rickety wooden step ladder. Dangerously close to toppling.

She holds her breath and can only breath again when Will is kissing her softly and whispering, "It's okay, they've gone", into her hair.

It could be wrong, could be wrong
But it should've been right

He gets confused in these times when he can't think of anything but her.

Because everything he's been taught to believe is wrong are the only things he wants to be right.

It could be wrong, could be wrong
Let our hearts ignite

Their hearts are beating in unison.

Well, that's assuming he still had possession of his heart, he's called it hers for a while now.

It could be wrong, could be wrong
Are we digging a hole?

Each second that passes it gets harder and harder to see a way out of this.

But he knows he's not even bothering to look.

He wants in.

He wants her.

It could be wrong, could be wrong
This is outta control

She kisses his lips, and she's so amazing and they are so perfect and he's most definitely not a teenager but he is most definitely already half-hard again.

He kisses her back with eager abandon.

It could be wrong, could be wrong
It could never last

Maybe at the beginning he had wondered if they would sleep together a few times and one day they would just wake up, go back to school, and she would call him Mr Schue again and it would all just be a happy memory.

But that would only work if there wasn't a shelf on his fridge with antibiotic yoghurt drinks and cucumber especially because she likes them as a snack when she came round after school.

It would only work if he couldn't make her coffee just the way she liked it with his eyes closed.

It could be wrong, could be wrong
Must erase it fast

He's sucking on the soft skin at the base of her neck, but his enthusiasm falters when he realises if he continues to do so, she won't be able to wear a low top for a few days.

He cools the sensitive area with his tongue.

It's enough that when she looks at him, she tells him that she's his.

It could be wrong, could be wrong
But it could've been right

He lifts her up as blood returns to his arms, and nestles her more comfortably into the contours of his body.

He wonders if maybe they should be caught.

Maybe that's what it would take to get him to realise that he shouldn't be doing this.

He shouldn't be falling in love with Quinn Fabray.

But he is.

It could be wrong, could be...

"I love you".

She lifts her head off his chest to say it, they've been silent for a long time and her quiet words are like a foghorn to him.

It's so soon.

He's told himself that the next time (and at the time he never knew how quickly next time would come around), he would make absolutely sure he was ready to commit to the extent of those three words.

But he never knew he'd be calling Quinn Fabray his.

He swallows the lump in his throat.

He feels like bursting into song. He feels like leaping to his feet and swinging her round and round.

Then he realises it's been a while since she spoke, and she's probably panicking because he hasn't said anything.

He kisses her, more forcefully than he meant to, and she's still slightly shocked at herself and takes a while to respond.

"I love you too", he whispers, as soon as their lips part for air.

Love is our resistance
They keep us apart and they won't stop breaking us down
And hold me, our lips must always be sealed

He screws his eyes shut and remembers the rush he feels when she tells him she loves him.

When he opens his eyes again, he feels stronger, and as Quinn sits down next to her mum across from him at the desk he smiles politely and his strength only increases as she squeezes his leg under the table.

It was Figgins' idea to have a parents evening after the less than satisfactory school board report on the minority of students.

Will supresses the anger with difficulty.

He doesn't want it pointed out to him in black and white that his girlfriend is his student.

He doesn't want to know that the distance across desk that lies between them is everyone else's idea of the closest they can be.

He realises that it would be so easy to be crushed completely by the knowledge that if they knew it would take seconds to destroy something they both invested everything in.

But she loves him.

He loves her.

And this built an immunity against those who would want them apart.

She raises her voice for his benefit as she reaches the door to his office on her way out.

"I'll meet you at the car mum- I've taken his pen by mistake".

His grin is wide when she hastens back inside, partly because she actually did take his pen.

He vaults the desk, knocking a pot of pens flying and grabs her in a tight bear hug.

Because she loves him and she hasn't told anyone.

She tugs on his tie for a scorching kiss and she's forgotten to give him his pen back but she'll take it when she sneaks over to his apartment later.

If we live our life in fear
I'll wait a thousand years
Just to see you smile again

He's listening to himself talk about Finn Hudson's lack of grasp of concepts of the Spanish language and targets to improve the credibility of his Spanish accent.

He's not sure he's going to get back in time for Quinn to come over. This parents' evening is taking longer than he had expected and Quinn has to arrive before 8 because Ms Karopol arrives home any time between 8 and 9, and Ms Karopol is a friend of Quinn's mum, so they can't meet on the stairs.

He's desperate to see her but he's willing to wait. It seems oxymoronic but it's true.

A week seems like eternity so he can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to wait until she finishes high school. To wait until they don't have to sneak around in fear.

But he knows he could.

He knows he could because he's actually terrified of life without her, so if that means he has to wait a year or so- then so be it.

He'd seen her smile before they 'met', sure.

He'd seen her smile with joy at the dramatic finish of a cheerios routine.

He'd seen her smile with happiness when singing and dancing, allowing herself to forget all her worries for those few minutes.

He'd seen her smile, a soppy smile, which even back then made some anger boil up inside him, when she was with Sam. (There was a similar smile for Finn, but it had more of a sympathetic tone).

But it was him and only him who sees the smile that combines all of these smiles. With that extra something in her eyes.

It's the 'I'm in love with you Will Schuester' smile.

Quell your prayers for love and peace
You'll wake the thought police
We can hide the truth inside

Santana manages to have a full blown argument with him in Spanish and his head hurts and he's pretty sure he's about to tell her he's in love with her cheerio captain. In Spanish.

And now Santana's mum is joining in and he just wants to shout and he doesn't care what language he's going to shout in, but he purses his lips and waits until Santana turns her argument against her mum instead, and politely asks them to leave.

When they are gone he leans forward and leans his head on the desk, groaning theatrically, because it's 8.05 and there's an ache in his chest because the next time he sees her he can only think about how much he loves her, because if he even so much as tries to subtly show it, someone could understand his thoughts.

"That bad?"

He jerks his head up, and she's standing there, and she's wearing the trackie bottoms that he knows she does the laundry in (he's never quite understood why she has to change pants to do the laundry). She'd rushed out as soon as she'd finished, it was the laundry her mum had asked her to do so that she could go out.


The way he says her name is like he's seeing food after a fasting.

"I love you", she whispers, because he looks like he needs to hear it after his evening.

His breath escapes all in a rush.

"I love you so much".

"Come on", she says, holding out her hand.

He almost trips over his own feet trying to get up and over to her as fast as he can.

She giggles and he pouts childishly.

"Come on- if we go to that supply closet right now, we can be out in time for the assembly in the hall".

"Supply closet? Wow- that's corny".

She just raises her eyebrows.

"We can't very well just have sex in your office", she murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. "There are parents wandering around the corridors…"

"It's all about sex with you", he teases, kissing her fully, his hands in her hair, which is down and smells of mint and fruits and he guesses she must have washed it this afternoon.

"It's all about you with me", she returns.

His headache vanishes.

There's a rush of excitement, sneaking through the empty classrooms and corridors, but it's nothing like the rush of excitement he gets when they are finally completely alone and she whispers his name and kisses him.

"What would you do if I told you I thought we should go on a break until I leave high school?" She asks, and she's half naked and sweaty and still clinging to him (or is he clinging to her?).

He knows she isn't actually going to say that. He knows she wants to know.

"I would wait for you", he says quietly.

Quietly though, because he knows it sounds stupid, she's bound to find someone else, she's bound to want a thoughtless fling at some party- isn't she?

"Don't look at me like that", she scolds, a smile playing at her lips "Why have I become the bad guy?"

He kisses her languidly, pushing his tongue between her teeth.

She shoves gently at his chest. It seems she hasn't finished.

"If there was something equal I could say for you I would", she states.

She bites her lip thoughtfully, and looking up at him through her eyelashes because she knows it drives him crazy (she has to make herself not do it in class, for both their sakes).

"Okay… if you decided that I should move schools, giving up my cheerleading scholarship, so that we could be together more- I would".

This time his kiss is forceful with emotion and she decides that they can slip into the back of the gym hall a few (tens of) minutes late.

Love is our resistance
They keep us apart and won't stop breaking us down
And hold me, our lips must always be sealed

The night has reached its end
We can't pretend
We must run
We must run
It's time to run

They're standing at the back together, and Figgins is droning on about something but all Quinn can focus on is that little spot at the back of Will's neck that she likes to kiss.

Then everyone starts to clap and she can't because she's holding his hand and he won't let go.

People must notice.

It's not a casual wrist grab to pull someone helpfully out of the way.

It's holding hands with someone you have a deep connection with, someone you're in love with.

He smiles at her, and says nothing but with the love in his eyes he inspires the strength she needs to slip out with him through the back entrance, still holding his hand.

And they hurry over to his car because they need a head start.

They need a few seconds to gather the courage that is needed to accompany their weapon of love in the inevitable battle to come.

Take us away from here
Protect us from further harm

The end

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