A Love Not Meant For Sharing
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Glee. Unfortunately.
AN: Quill smut. Some mild angst. Mostly smut. Been a while since I have posted anything, and seeing as I don't really have huge amounts of time, my writing seems to just revert to one-shot PWP.
Sorry about that :P
It was always her turning up at his apartment, and somehow that made it more difficult, because he couldn't pretend that she wasn't there, eyes all wide and hopeful in an expression so innocent it just didn't belong on her face.
He pursed his lips and turned away from her, his head in his hand as she softly closed the front door and pushed firmly on the small of his back with her fingers, guiding him over to the couch.
He sat down heavily and she clambered up behind him, rubbing soothing hands over his back, the all-consuming heat from the contact soaking through his t shirt so eagerly welcomed by his traitorous skin.
Neither of them said anything as she massaged his tight shoulders and neck, wishing she could push away the stress in his mind as well as the knots in his muscles.
Before long he gave a broken sigh and allowed himself to relax against her, long cool fingers curling around her bare ankles, letting his forehead drop onto her creamy thigh, shuddering breaths dancing over her soft skin and raising goosebumps where it reached.
She stilled her hands, leaning forward to press more closely against him, sliding her arms around his neck and touching her lips to the back of his neck.
He sighed again, this time forming her name, strained and desperate.
And then she was gone, slipping out from behind him, a stark coldness left in her place.
He screwed his eyes shut with the pain of her absence, only opening them when she felt her hand gently resting on his shoulder, and took a deep breath of her subtle perfume.
She pushed a mug into his hands, held uselessly in his lap.
He risked a glance in her direction.
"Why are you here?"
She snorted through her nose and raised a majestic eyebrow.
"Do you want me to leave?"
He balked, his eyes freezing wide in panic.
He never wanted her to leave.
The corners of her mouth twitched.
"You know what I'm going to say", she murmured, pulling at his arm nearest her to put it around her waist. "Well, you know some of it".
He took a few sips of tea and reached forward to place the mug on the coffee table, before muttering something that Quinn didn't catch and tugging her onto his lap, his embrace almost fierce as he held her.
"What else are you going to say then?" He asked, losing the edge in his voice as they snuggled against each other, just like a normal couple.
It was so easy to pretend.
"I broke up with Finn", she said bluntly, absent mindedly playing with his fingers in hers.
He didn't believe her, she could tell.
She shifted to be able to turn her face up to his.
"It hurts you", she explained simply. "My fake relationship exists only because you wanted it to, as though you thought being with the boy everyone else thinks I should be with would make me want to be with him instead of with you… it's not about what everyone else thinks, remember? You're always telling us that…"
"This is totally different", he said harshly.
"No it's not", she returned, just as sharply, because she knew he knew he was wrong.
She squeezed his hand.
"You can keep trying to push me away if that's what you want, but it's never going to work when neither of us want it to".
He grunted, and it could have meant anything, but they both knew what he actually meant.
"I'm not willing to share you with anyone, so I don't see why you should share me".
The intensity of understanding in her eyes made him look away.
He looked to her slowly, thoughtfully. "You really broke up with him? Publicly?"
She smiled. "Yup. After the football game, in front of everyone… I think I accused him of staring at Rachel's legs…"
He laughed, a short but genuine laugh, talented fingers drawing patterns on her smooth pale skin of her calves.
"Your legs are mine to stare at", he said gruffly, and the hint of possessiveness in his darkened gaze fizzed warmth in her abdomen.
"I'm all yours", she said firmly, and she was fiery and independent, and used to doing whatever she wanted, but all of that was nothing compared to the powerful urge to belong to him.
He swallowed thickly.
"We can't deny loving each other just because it isn't safe", she continued, earnestly, a tangle of limbs until she managed to turn to straddle his thighs, knees either side.
He swallowed again, gripping her hips to prevent her sliding further forward.
"Nothing's 'safe'… you could be walking across the road and get hit by a bus any day!"
His grip tightened painfully for a moment, and a smug grin crossed her face.
She opened her mouth again, but he brought up a finger to press to her lips.
"Enough talking for now", he said deeply, a timbre that had her breath caught in her throat .
He leaned forward to replace his finger with his lips, a sweet kiss of acceptance, honest longing for all of her undivided attention.
And he was honestly hers, and he wouldn't tell her, because he didn't really know how.
He was always one for running his mouth off on intricately brilliant pep talks and inspirational lectures.
But when it came to his feelings, he was a shy and sensitive guy, bottling up emotions until they exploded in bursts of expression.
He would be misty eyed and offer hugs to everyone, but the bush fire that was his connection to Quinn Fabray was something so entirely different those safeguarded snippets just weren't enough.
At first he had thought it was an unspoken sense of family, from their unfortunate near role sharing.
There never needed to be a reason for the increased time they spent together, hints of the issues they both had to resolve emerging between in depth discussions about classic films of the 80s.
She didn't belong in her generation, a woman too sophisticated and unmaterialistic to properly fit in.
Having a child had really taken its toll on her carefree naivety. Every action had a consequence, and her sense of humour, he quickly learned, was even more cynical than his own.
And yet she tried so desperately to be popular, tried to be someone she wasn't, and he started to realise she wasn't the person she appeared to be, when she dropped a few star trek quotes into something she was talking about, and doodled a batmobile on her Spanish test.
The conversational hints turned into full blown heart to hearts.
He'd stopped a terrifying bout of hysterics with a swooping crush of lips and all of a sudden he had stopped flirting with the cute checkout girl (which had occurred throughout his marriage), he stopped dancing around Emma and felt actually happy when she introduced him to the male nurse she met a few months before.
Nothing happened for a long time after that.
Quinn watched him carefully for signs of fear and regret, and Will stared at her gorgeous legs, and hated himself for wanting those looks she threw at him to be real.
That time she had first come to his apartment was for genuinely innocent reasons. Rachel had really asked her to drop off some sheet music, littered with tiny neat notes and suggestions, and Quinn couldn't really refuse to help, since she drove right past where he lived on her way home.
But when he had opened the door, he had practically torn the wad of paper from her hands, throwing it into his apartment without even looking to see where the scattered sheets landed, and cupped her face in trembling hands.
He had nearly begged her to explain to him why it would never work, to lie to him that she wouldn't make sacrifices for something that could end at any second, and she shushed him with a hot needy kiss.
She deepened their kiss now, slanting her mouth over his, teasing him with the slowness of her swiping tongue.
He pulled away for breath, moaning as she wetly nibbled his earlobe.
"I don't want to take advantage of you", he said, grinning despite himself.
"In my 'vulnerable' state", she taunted sarcastically, fingernails digging into his pectorals through his t shirt.
She lowered her lips a mere hair's width from his own, their staccato breathing mingled.
"Will, as your girlfriend, I insist…", her voice dropped even more, vibrating his moist lips, "Take advantage of me".
"My girlfriend?" He stuttered.
They had never labelled them before.
It was always Finn and Quinn, girlfriend and boyfriend who were probably less intimate as a couple than when they weren't a couple. A fake couple.
And then there was Will and Quinn.
The forbidden lovers who were completely emotionally inseparable, and were only physically prised apart because of a few months and a graduation standing in the way.
"My girlfriend", he repeated, a tone of reverence and awe, "Mine".
She kissed him thoroughly, claiming him in return without the use of words, and it had been a long day, and a very cold shower, and he wasn't used to being able to trust someone so indefinitely.
Her sprawled fingers meshed into his damp curls.
"I got you something", he remembered, quickly blurting it out before he was entirely lost in the fog of desire.
She licked her lips, and he struggled to maintain that cubed millimetre of clear thought.
"It's not much, but I want you to have it now".
Her eyes sparkled.
"Give it to me now", she purred suggestively, and stole a sideways kiss that was far to come close to quenching his overwhelming thirst for her.
He gave a long-suffering groan.
"You are supposed to be the one who is holding me back", he complained, only half-heartedly.
She giggled and slipped gracefully to stand between his legs, hands squeezing his jean-clad thighs and a swift peck to his forehead.
She took a small step backwards and held out her hands.
"We should move anyway else we'll never leave the couch", she said matter of factly.
She really wasn't supposed to be the one who made him like this.
But she was the only one who ever had.
He stumbled forward, catching her in his arms and attacking her with kisses, passionate and playful at the same time.
She'd let her hair dry naturally, curling up just how he liked it, and had taken to wearing less make up, and she felt more confident now than ever, because he was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and he made her feel like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
His hand curled round her waist, scorching breath in her ear.
"In the bathroom".
Her eyebrows quirked with amusement.
"Is this a fantasy of yours that you've yet to tell me about?"
He blushed deep red, remembering their conversation from just the previous day, which had led to her wearing nothing but his favourite tie, and a great deal of mutual appreciation of such a revealing outfit.
"No! Your present is in the bathroom".
It was a purple toothbrush, a symbol and a gesture if there ever was one.
It both spoke 3 words that hadn't been spoken and promised that they would be said in the future.
Quinn dropped it ceremoniously into the glass beside his own green one, and thanked him in a searing battle of lips and tongues.
The bathroom door slammed violently against the tiles.
Will winced as his hands behind Quinn's back were squashed between her and the wood, his pain soon forgotten as her leg curled around his, forcing him ever closer, his hips aligned with hers.
He released her name as a gasp.
"I wish you were there today", she whispered, adopting a tone of suggestion he knew and loved.
"I wish I were there too", he agreed, grasping her thighs to push her up against the door for a more intimate position, trapping her with his hard body, warm and humming with anticipation against her.
"What would you have done if you were there?" She asked, fingers itching at the hem of his t shirt, a surge of lust and power and wanting to completely lose control.
"I would give you something of mine to wear so that everyone would know that you were with me", he rushed, punctuating himself with short demanding kisses.
"And?" She prompted, breathlessly, his husky voice enough to have her squirming and arching to meet him.
He followed the curve of her neck with a hot open mouth.
"What else would you do?" She asked.
"We're not supposed to be talking", he grunted, rolling the waistband of her skirt over her hips, and letting it drop to the floor.
"This type of talking is allowed", she goaded. "Will".
He smiled against her lips, pressing his thumb more firmly on her centre through her underwear and catching her struggled moan in his mouth.
"I would run over to you", he managed, pulling away as he spoke, only to suck on her bottom lip, almost shivering in her heady gaze.
Her eyelids fluttered closed.
Will kissed them each in turn.
"Sweaty", she murmured appreciatively, nuzzling into his neck to inhale his musky scent, helping him tug off his t shirt.
She laid her palms flat on his bare chest, searching for his lips and claiming them once more, as his fingers joined his thumb in teasing her through her underwear, his hips bucking against her, seeking friction at finding her so ready.
She always was.
It was exhilarating.
"I'd kiss you until you forgot that Finn could ever call you his", he finished, aggressively, crashing his lips to hers and tasting her hungrily, forcing out any memory that wasn't his as well, and any thoughts that weren't of him.
But she didn't think of anyone but him anyway.
He dominated her every sense, she lived and breathed him, and couldn't think of, and didn't want to think of, a time without that being the case.
"Will…. Ohhh… Who..?"
"Too many clothes", he gritted out. "We should go to the bedroom".
Her hands dipped into the waistband of his sweatpants, a noise of muffled yearning at the fact that he wasn't wearing boxers, and something in the back of her mind told her that he was hoping and expecting her to arrive at his apartment sometime that evening, and another voice in her head informed her that there was rarely an evening when she didn't manage to call in to see him.
She couldn't wait.
Not this time.
"No… here", she choked, pressing against his hand, cursing the barrier of fabric still separating them, but unable to move her hands now tightening around his shaft.
He kissed her relentlessly, and the heat was a tiger ready to pounce within her, and he was her prey willing to be caught again and again, as long as she was there to catch him.
She removed her hands from his pants suddenly, and he made a decidedly unmanly whimper at the loss of contact, retaliating by also stopping his ministrations.
She growled dangerously, grabbing his hands roughly and urging them to remove her tank top.
"Don't be gentle", she ordered, and he would never hurt her, and just the thought of him slamming into her without holding back had her throwing her head back to hit the door.
She momentarily slipped in his grip, and he automatically hoisted her further up in adjustment, kissing and sucking her exposed neck, as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist.
The baby blue tank top joined her skirt and his t shirt on the floor, and his eager hands ran painstakingly slowly up her sides, finally cupping her breasts over her bra, her rush of once held breath over his face, which was pressed right up against hers.
He took in her expression of wanton abandonment, the off handedness that she would throw everything away to be with him, the way only he could make her completely fall apart.
Her hair was mussed and her lips were kiss-swollen and her eyes were so dark they were bottomless with love for him.
"So beautiful", he breathed, and despite the heat of the moment and their current state of embrace, he reached out his fingertips to brush a lock of blonde hair behind her ear in a careful measured movement.
"No one else can touch you like this", he stuttered, "no one… just me".
She nodded, not in a position to form intelligible words, chosing instead to caress his beautiful stubbly face with feather light touches, a moment of adoration that surrounded the animal need that was begging to be satisfied.
"Will", she hissed, the combination of attacks which were in turn feeding the building pleasure inside her not yet enough.
"Tell me", he urged, in a filthy tone that stood up the hairs on the back of her neck.
He unclasped her bra in one swift movement, his mouth descending on each creamy mound with utmost earnest attention, flicking his tongue over peaked nipples and curling it to taste salty skin in ways that had her ache painfully between her legs.
"Tell me", he repeated, kissing her open mouth languidly, as though he didn't have her pressed up against the bathroom door eagerly awaiting him to enter her hard and fast.
"What do you want?"
"You", she moaned, and his fingers bruised her hips as he kicked off his sweatpants, a crashing of pots of haircream and whatever else was on top of the cabinet as he found a foil packet that was conveniently located there.
She marked the junction of his neck with her teeth and lips, not enough to stay there for very long, but enough to display her own possessive streak to rival his.
"Fuck me", she hissed.
He tore her underwear down her legs, plunging two fingers straight into her wet heat, bucking against her, the door banging even more violently against the tiles for his efforts.
She tightened her hold on his shoulders, hoping his legs would hold out, and not helping that particular case by assailing his lips with brutally passionate kisses.
With a deep breath Will sheathed himself completely inside her without pause, forced to part their lips as sensation and pleasure shook him from the centre.
A combination of the angle, and her tightness, and it was everything, she was everything and he pulled out to slam straight back in, the door creaking in protest, drowned out by their simultaneous cries of want.
Sweat slick bodies slid easily against each other.
Desperate sounds and jumbled words of love and lust filled the bathroom.
The mirror steamed over.
He pushed his hand between them, circling his thumb in time with his deep thrusts, the screaming rhythm he had started soon breaking down into erratic movements matched with sloppy kisses and ragged breaths.
Her thighs clenching around his waist went finally slack as her whole body arched and convulsed with his shuddering to a halt and following hers to oblivion.
With a last crack of the door against the tiles, Will collapsed against her, shakily lowering them both to the floor in a pile of boneless contentedness.
She curled up beside him in bed later, asleep within seconds, whimpering his name and clutching close to his naked body.
He kissed her hair and whispered 'I love you', and he knew that he would always be only hers.
She might always turn up at his apartment, but he would always be waiting for her.
And one day it would be theirs.
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