Couldn't Stop Even If We Tried

Disclaimer: I still don't own any of the characters from glee. Believe me, you would know if I did.

AN: Okay so this is set in 2x22 New York, but pretty much completely AU. There's not really much plot so it should make sense.

Inspired by Quinn's HBIC moments and the amazing Quill fandom (you know who you are :P). Any excuse to write smut in the middle of the night. Maybe slightly OOC, I find it difficult to write in first person, so this is a bit of an experiment. And it's smut, incase I didn't warn you.

Finally, in the middle of the night is a very…erm… eclectic (?) place to be, there are a few little details in this one shot, if you can find them, related to glee/Dianna Agron/Matthew Morrison :P


"Quinn! Quinn wait! Where are you going?"

I turned round in shock, and he was standing there across the other side of the street, and I watched helplessly as he ran over the crossing the second the light changed.

As he approached, I attempted to glare daggers at him, but I knew that my expression more represented some sort of intense longing that I felt with every fibre of my being.

Anger flared up inside me. How the hell had he found me there? Why was it that we, of all people, had to be somehow drawn to each other like the world's most powerful magnets?

Why couldn't I be madly in love with someone who wasn't so totally unobtainable, and why wasn't there anyone else in the universe that I could see returning such a potent reciprocation?

"I needed some air", I managed pathetically, fighting the urge to throw myself into his arms and grab tightly at his open shirt and never let go.

"What's going on Quinn?" He asked, more gently this time, "You can't really be considering walking round in New York on your own- I can't let anything happen to you".

"You can't let me!" I shrieked, the anger resurfacing, and anger that was never meant to be directed at him, but I couldn't exactly take it out on anyone else, because no one else knew about us.

"That's not what I said", he frowned.

I was gathering momentum now, and somehow managing not to look at his beautiful kissable face I let the words just flow from me.

"You can't just stand there and act like you have no idea what's wrong! We're in New York, in case you haven't noticed… and look! Just look over there- a couple walking hand in hand… and there! And there!"

"Honey, I don't know that they appreciate you point- "

"Will! Please, just listen to me", he bit his lip and just stood there obediently, and he would do anything for me and I hated that, because I wanted him to be selfish and small-minded and tell me that we could never work, because he would lose his job, and the age gap was just too large.

"We can't do that", I pointed out, my voice laced with the obviousness of my statement. "We have to sneak around, we can't date, and most days we barely get time to talk… we just have sex, and then we have to pretend that even that doesn't happen and go back to school on Monday and… I hate pretending! Pretending that Beth never happened, just so that I don't have some sort of mental breakdown in the middle of school or something! Pretending that I am trying to pursue Finn, when I know I can never care about anyone even a 10th of what I feel about you… "

He stepped closer, and I couldn't stop myself from looking directly at him.

I shouldn't have. His face was etched with concern, and his eyes big pools of understanding and that adoration that I had never asked for from him, and never fully deserved.

"Please tell me what I can do to help", he said softly.

"No Will! It can't work like that!" I took a step backwards, away from him, desperately escaping the pull I had towards him.

Hot tears burned in my eyes.

"Like this afternoon, giving us that 'pep talk', and you standing there, you with your flirty running-your-tongue-over-your-lips, and the 'accidentally' dropping your pen…"

He just looked confused at that, and a fresh burst of anger escaped, though this time at myself, because if he really didn't know just how irresistibly attractive everything about him was, then I must have been doing something wrong.

"I should be the one complaining about you making it difficult for me", he said, and there was a frustration in his voice that was similar to the frustration he always spoke with when the glee club failed to recognise the importance of the lessons he put forward.

"You, leaning on the piano in the entrance hall with those damn seductive eyes, you, swirling your tongue around on that ice-cream, and making sure I was watching when you fluttered you eyelashes and looked over with those damn seductive eyes".

I'd succeeded in awakening the anger inside him as well, but I wasn't satisfied.

"If it's so difficult for you then why are you still with me?" I asked curtly, avoiding his gaze again because it was easier that way.

He made a sort of strangled noise of despair.

"Why would you even need to ask that?" He was yelling back now, and I refused to watch his arms tense.

I narrowed my eyes and winced internally as he sort of deflated before me.

"It's not only difficult for you, you know", he began, the volume gradually increasing in his voice. "I want all those things, I want everything… It hurts me when I see you all flirty with the glee boys, and they all have more of a claim on you than I do because no one can know about us and it's so damn difficult to keep pretending that there isn't an 'us', and that everything is 'normal' and…"

He took a deep shaky breath. "And pretending that I'm not already completely and ridiculously in love with you because I can't say that I am because it would just make everything ten times harder… And why am I still with you? I couldn't leave if I tried. I don't know what it is, but this is the first proper grown up relationship I've ever been in and everything is new and completely different and I've shared so much with you and I want to share everything with you, and if that's not good enough for you then fine. Walk away. Just stop torturing me already. I don't deserve you anyway, go off and find some high school jock that can parade around with you on his arm if that's what you need".

My mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

He loved me.

Nobody loved me. And yet he did.

Completely unconditionally, even as I yelled at him and tried to pretend that I didn't need him as much as he was showing he needed me.

A cab pulled over, possibly from all the angry arm waving from Will.

"Get in the cab", I ordered.

He looked at me like I was mad, and I probably was, but then it was only because I was madly in love.

He'd changed my whole life ethic, and a whole lot more than that besides.

"Get in the cab Will", I said again, and this time it sounded more desperate.

He couldn't leave me. I didn't want a life without him.

He got in, still wary, sliding over to the other street and giving the address of the hotel to the driver.

The driver glanced at both of us, flicking his eyes between us as though we were both completely crazy, which we probably were, least of all because the cab journey would take longer than it would to walk, and would start off by going in completely the wrong direction.

I sat back in the seat, knowing Will's eyes were on me, and not wanting to see the hurt in his expression.

"Quinn look at me", he said after a moment, as the cab pulled away from the kerb. "Please. Just look at me".

I exhaled deeply.

I couldn't look at him.

Tears swam in my eyes.

"I love you".

It came out as more of a choked sob than the casual admittance I had been hoping for, but I hadn't bargained for the effect of the words.

Because everything became incredibly in focus, and all my senses heightened as though I had just had a shot of epinephrine.

I stared down at the carpet and tried not to give in to the waves of euphoria and knowing that I actually really meant those words from the bottom of my heart.

I don't know what I thought how saying that would affect him, but after my little display out on the street I definitely didn't expect to feel wet hot kisses pressed on my neck, to feel his damp cheek as he nuzzled into the curve of my neck, and his hands reaching blindly to grab at my thighs and pull himself closer.

"I love you too", he replied hoarsely, and there was no way I couldn't pull on his hair to bring his mouth to mine, twisting in my seat to kiss him with a hunger and raw need suggesting my life depended on him returning the passion.

He did, readily, undoing his seatbelt and pushing me forcefully back into the right hand corner of the back seat, nipping and sucking again at my neck as we ran out of air, responding to my wanton whimpering with doubled enthusiasm, and I didn't even care if he marked me for the whole world to see.

In fact I hoped he would.

"You", I gasped, craning my neck to encourage his talented mouth to work over the sensitive skin there. "Need", my fingertips dug into the back of his neck, claiming his lips again and again with the desperate requirement to show him how much I loved him. "Inme", I hissed, as he ran his tongue in a scorching path over the curve of my breasts at the neckline of my top.

It didn't matter that we were in a cab on the streets of New York City. All that mattered was that we were overcome by a raw need that wasn't going to wait until we were somewhere more appropriate for the consummation of our newly expressed love.


He took advantage of my open mouth to cover it with his, his tongue pushing ruthlessly against mine, sending coils of pleasure twisting right at my core.

I tore my mouth from his, and my fingernails were surely marking the back of his neck now, as I clung to him with everything I had.

"We're in a cab Will", I rushed out breathlessly, the words dying on my lips as I stared up at him.

He was always utterly gorgeous, and right then he looked positively edible, his hair messed into a hopelessly sexy disarray, his face flushed, and his lips swollen and pink.

And the way he was staring right back at me, like I had saved his life and he was forever in awe of my presence, and the darkness of his dilated pupils, clouded with lust and love.

He leaned forward and took my top lip between his teeth, so gently teasing it with light nibbling and sweeping of his tongue.

I moaned, my breathing in rasping breaths as he pulled away.

The blood pounding in my ears was louder than the radio, which the driver had now turned up to nearly full volume.

Will struggled to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket, scattering a couple of foil packets on the floor of the cab and shaking fingers grabbed at a few bills.

He found one of my hands and gripped it tightly, as though he was afraid that I wouldn't be there when he turned back to me.

"Sir, could you, er, could you please pull over?"

The driver took the money and gaped at us in the interior mirror.

"Are you absolutely flippin' crazy?" he demanded incredulously, but instead of arguing, he cursed at us under his breath and swerved across the lanes to a space on the opposite curb.

I briefly wondered just how much money Will had just given him, but all coherent thought fell from my mind when he smoothed his flat palms up my thighs, pushing under my skirt, and flashed me a grin I could only describe as dangerous.

Arousal shot through me.

His calloused fingers danced across the sensitive skin of my inner thigh as he leaned in to press his lips to mine once more, demanding and insistent, with an erotic combination of tenderness, as he moved one hand to the back of my head to stop it banging against the glass of the window.

Neither of us noticed the slamming of the door and more cursed mutterings as the cab driver retreated to the pavement with a cigarette.

And the classic rock in the background could not compete with everything about Will that was filling my senses.

"Are we crazy?" He asked, his voice a low timbre that caused instant goosebumps on my skin.

"I don't care", I hissed back, because I didn't.

What did it matter how or why, or even what, where and when? Since that was what it meant to be alive, the spontaneity, the natural smiles and unbeatable feeling of being worth something.

I had done so many things wrong in the past, and I was finally doing something right. And if I knew it was right, and Will knew it was right, then that was all that mattered.

And right then the most important thing was that he never ever stopped kissing me with those harsh, hungry kisses, and we had never been so shamelessly animalistic in our need for each other and it was new and exciting, and I knew that feeling would ever get old.

And we were in that cab, not 3 blocks from the hotel, yet absolutely closed off from the world where I would climb up on that stage as part of a show choir, and he would stand in the wings, or maybe sit in the audience, as the teacher, as the responsible adult.

It seemed suddenly dark and ominous that my mother had signed a consent form signing her guardianship of me as a minor over to my boyfriend.

It was wrong to refer to him as my boyfriend, not because of the age difference, I certainly didn't even notice it, since Will was still at heart the lost teenager who never quite knew what he wanted, and had not properly lived for most of his marriage.

It was more because he was more than that. He was… mine. And I was irrevocably his.

And the brightness of this realisation would cover up the interfering grey.

"Good", he answered, breathlessly, and I realised we were just staring at each other, and I returned his goofy smile for a brief second before he shifted forward so that his whole body, tense with desire, was pressed against mine.

My eyelids fluttered closed.

"Please Will", I murmured, for when would we be alone together next?

He kissed me chastely, moving away only by a hair's width to whisper words of love that I didn't quite catch as his thumb pressed on my centre over my underwear.

I arched up to kiss him, rolling my hips against his and losing myself in the softness of his lips on mine and his scent of security and home and that intriguing Willness, that I hoped would linger on my skin.

He trailed searing kisses to the base of my neck, his tongue drawing a nonsensical pattern, lingering over my pulse point.

I twisted my fingers in his beautiful hair, probably pulling at his scalp, but I knew how much he liked that.

For a moment his lips left my skin, and I felt horribly bereft of the contact, until his face nuzzled at the curve of my breast, his burning breath whispering over my humming skin.

He pushed my top right down with needy fingers, managing to access hardened nipples, which he rolled between his forefingers and thumbs before favouring each with his swirling tongue and gentle teeth.

I pushed against him, for he was never close enough, I could never get enough of him, and could never let the few stolen seconds we could spend alone together go to waste.

"Will", I gasped, tugging on his curls to kiss his mouth hotly. "Need…"

I couldn't find the words I needed, so settled on kissing him again, feverishly.

"Are you sure?" He asked, and my heart swelled with love, because he had that distant expression that meant he was struggling between sensibilities and pleasure, an expression I felt a little burst of pride at putting there on his face, yet he still put me first.

I nodded and pushed into his hand between my legs, and he kissed me hard, promising the improbable chance to find a bed and lay me out and make worshipping sweet love to me, later.

I managed to slip my hands between us, pressing the base of my hand against his tented crotch for the pleasure of hearing his stuttered moan against my collarbone, where he had somehow managed to push my top off one shoulder for better access.

I slipped one hand beneath his undershirt, teasing his twitching muscles with feather-light fingertips, the heat between us like pure molten want objectified.

I knew it would be a little more practical to remain as clothed as possible, but I only knew that if my mind wasn't so foggy with desire.

I needed to feel his hot electric skin against mine, and although admittedly vaguely aware of the only slightly tinted windows of the cab and the possibility of an audience outside, the best I could manage was pulling sharply on his t shirt, and together we saw that he was divested of unnecessary layers , and his breath caught in scratchy gasps to feel my exploring hands run over his every sculpted sinewy curve, craning my neck to press hurried messy kisses down his neck to his chest.

His fingers curled round my underwear, giving a groan to find me so obviously aroused, and his light touch inspired a new surge of urgency to the exploration of my hands, which dipped lower below the waistband of his pants, scraping over the sensitive skin there.

He kissed my mouth with fierce devotion our tongues entwining in a dance that would never come to an end, and I finally located the zipper of his pants, reluctantly recruiting both hands to undo them, though still eliciting the sought after muffled moans by pushing them down as far as I could along with his boxer shorts.

He gasped as I stroked his length slowly and deliberately, and bucked unconsciously as I released him from my hand to locate a stray foil packet on the seat beside us.

He took it from me, mumbling something against my mouth before he plundered it again and again with his tongue.

After a delay, I realised he was saying something about my skirt, and I hadn't even noticed I was still wearing it, my body was aflame with the sensation of his roaming hands and caressing fingertips.

I wouldn't have noticed if a bright pink elephant had climbed into the front seat of the taxi cab and started driving it away.

He knew exactly how to have me writhing helplessly beneath him, completely at his mercy, and suddenly thankful for the seat covering not being leather.

He pulled back, resting his sweated forehead against mine and helping me shuffle my long skirt and underwear down to my knees, two fingers already curling inside me.

I moaned his name, and with a sloppy kiss to the side of my mouth, he clambered fully on top of me, impossibly close and cramped in the back of the cab.

Only Will could have me like that, his name stringed together and tumbling from my lips, completely unaware of my surroundings and only able to focus on him, as I clawed at his hard slick back for some kind of purchase.

We jostled for a few minutes, a mess of limbs and hot frantic kisses to whatever skin we could reach.

Somehow, he managed to come up with a rough but mostly comfortable position, his fingers digging into my bare legs, pulling my skirt right out of the way, and curling his fingers within me with a practised ease and precision.

He bombarded me with how well he knew my body, stretching and circling those amazing fingers, pressing suckling kisses to every spot he could think of that would have me twisting against him, clenching around his fingers as he caught my moan in his mouth.

Before I had even recovered enough to realise that he had positioned himself at my entrance, and as my internal muscles were still fluttering, he pushed into me at a delicious angle giving a long drawn out groan as he slowly fully sheathed himself.

And with the chorus of panted breathing, hoarse curses and names choked with wavering ecstasy, and the faint recognisable noise of Journey's 'Don't Stop Believing' on the radio ( I would never be able to sing the song again without immediately needing a cold shower), together we found our own rhythm, and steamed up the windows for drawing lazy post-coital heart symbols around our initials.

We walked briskly back to the hotel, opting for the excuse that we had just 'bumped into each other' (well, it was crudely true), whilst out for a walk.

I looked over to him, dishevelled and deliciously sexed, and I could blame New York and the warm summer breeze but I wouldn't.

I threw caution to the wind and reached for his hand.

He grinned at me, squeezing right back, and the fingertips of my free hand absent mindedly traced the purple bruise appearing just below my collar bone that would take a worthwhile half a tube of concealer to cover up.

And the beginning of the bass riff of Don't Stop began to play in my head.

Or was that the wedding march?

Please review :)