my dirty little secret - part two
Title: My Dirty Little Secret
Author: kalexico
Pairing/Characters: Quinn Fabray/Santana Lopez
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1230
Summary: Quinn and Santana in NYC.
_______
part one
I look out of the floor to ceiling windows, a small smile tugging at my lips. I can't believe I'm looking at New York. Santana and I have been here for a while now, but sometimes it still hits me like a ton of bricks - we live in New York.
I sigh inaudibly and stroke my protruding stomach absentmindedly. In the distance, I hear someone slamming a door and think to myself that it's probably one of the other tenants. They've been fighting for as long as we've known them and we've both wondered out loud how much longer they were going to drag this out.
I grab my laptop and open it, quickly finding the document I want and re-reading it. I edit some typos and add a description here and there. Once I've done that, I read it again and bite my lower lip softly. Sometimes, it seems like I fell in love with her yesterday. Sometimes, it's hard to believe that we're making it. We actually are making it. Quinn and Santana Fabray-Lopez. There had been quite the power struggle about that, Santana wanting my name to come first. Using her all too familiair logic, she stated that following the alphabet is the natural thing to do. I finally caved in when she remarked with a smirk that her name being the last one would have the so-called recency effect on people - Lopez standing out because it's the last they've heard. When she was drunk, she confessed that she wanted my name to come first because she felt it was right for our future kids that their first last name would be their biological mother's.
That wasn't the first time she said out loud that children were a part of the picture she had of her future with me. In college, we maintained a long-distance relationship. Luckily, we were both on the East Coast. When she rejected a guy, cursed the hell out of him and told him that guys like him were the reason that she was gay, he punched her and she had to see a doctor. That is when we found out that she is infertile. She went through a rough patch then, but I was right there with her. We spent a lot of that summer talking and crying. And after a few months, she kissed me and said: "Good thing I'm gay. At least I have my woman to carry my babies."
I still am surprised that she wants children. She always struck me as the independent kind, the kind that is too impatient for children. She's also spent so much time being angry and a straight-up bitch. I thought she found them annoying, whiny, snotty, self-centered. When I confronted her with this view, she shrugged and said: "That's true, but Quinn... these are our babies we're talking about. They're going to kick major ass and they'll be the smartest kids in their class and shit. They'll be the coolest kids on the block with the hottest moms."
I hear the sound of dangling keys and Spanish swearing. I roll my eyes, unable to suppress a smile at my wife's antics. I am just about to get up and open the door for her when it opens. She drops her bag on the floor and walks over to me. I lick my lips at the mere sight. She just looks so good in those business suits, her jet-black hair pulled from her face with one simple pin. It's mandatory for her job in a PR consultancy firm. She grins at me and asks: "How is my favourite pregnant lawyer?"
Before I get a chance to answer, she leans down to kiss me with those full lips of her. After all these years, I still marvel at the feel of them. She rubs my stomach softly and deepens the kiss. "I am so in love with you, Quinn Fabray-Lopez," she whispers against my lips.
She puts her leg between mine and leans on it, now kissing my neck. She leans on one hand and feels me up with the other. She loves how extra sensitive my breasts are. I love it too. We have lots of things in common. Her thumb grazes my nipple and I tilt my head back. Her hand trails from my breast over my stomach to my inner thighs. She softly strokes me, nipping at my lips again.
"I'm the pregnant one. I should be the one crazy for sex all the time."
"It's called sympathy pregnancy, Q."
"Nah. You're just the same old horn dog you were when we were teenagers."
"You're my wife. Can you honestly blame me? Oh - before I forget, I brought you something."
She stands up and I instantly miss the contact of our bodies. She gets a thermos from my bag and walks over to me. She smiles as she explains. "I stopped by Tom's and had them fill this with coffee for you."
I clap my hands excitedly. One of the downsides of being pregnant is obviously the lack of caffeine. As soon as we decided to try to get pregnant, I looked up if I still could have coffee, worried because of the myth that pregnant women can't have alcohol, caffeine, crustaceans, etc. I was so happy when I read that I can drink coffee, as long as I don't overdo it. It's still a huge setback from my daily cup, though. I love it when Santana surprises me like this.
She gets cups, spoons, cream and sugar. She quickly changes into something more comfortable and then joins me on the couch, my legs resting in her lap. She gives me a foot massage. We talk about our days and I tell her I've been writing a little. Interest piqued, she demands to read it.
I hand her the laptop and look at her face as she reads it. "Oh God, Ms Stephens! She was SUCH a prude! I heard Mr Schue did get laid with her... well, it was a high school rumour." I see a lot of smiling, some tears she immediately sniffles away and also surprise. Once she's finished, she puts my laptop back on the table and grabs my feet. She gazes into my eyes intensely, then kisses my toes.
"I love you," she says after a while. "Lucy Quinn Fabray-Lopez, I motherfucking love you."
"I know," I smile. "And so do the boys."
She leans down until her mouth reaches my belly. Stage-whispering, she says: "You guys are pretty damn lucky. Your mommy is very pretty, very smart and she always wins her cases. She's also passionate and loving and caring and crazy and such a good person. Did I mention she's got the most amazing smile in the world? I could pretty much shag her all day!"
At first, I smile at her antics, then I slap her lightly on the head. "Santana!"
"What?" she looks up and me and shrugs. "Honesty is a very important value to instill on them. The sooner they're confronted with it, the better."
This is why she's so good at her job, she can always explain everything and make even the worst actions sound good.
"So," she says. "Do you remember what we did that day that you fell in love with me? While skipping government?"
>> next
Author: kalexico
Pairing/Characters: Quinn Fabray/Santana Lopez
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1230
Summary: Quinn and Santana in NYC.
_______
part one
I look out of the floor to ceiling windows, a small smile tugging at my lips. I can't believe I'm looking at New York. Santana and I have been here for a while now, but sometimes it still hits me like a ton of bricks - we live in New York.
I sigh inaudibly and stroke my protruding stomach absentmindedly. In the distance, I hear someone slamming a door and think to myself that it's probably one of the other tenants. They've been fighting for as long as we've known them and we've both wondered out loud how much longer they were going to drag this out.
I grab my laptop and open it, quickly finding the document I want and re-reading it. I edit some typos and add a description here and there. Once I've done that, I read it again and bite my lower lip softly. Sometimes, it seems like I fell in love with her yesterday. Sometimes, it's hard to believe that we're making it. We actually are making it. Quinn and Santana Fabray-Lopez. There had been quite the power struggle about that, Santana wanting my name to come first. Using her all too familiair logic, she stated that following the alphabet is the natural thing to do. I finally caved in when she remarked with a smirk that her name being the last one would have the so-called recency effect on people - Lopez standing out because it's the last they've heard. When she was drunk, she confessed that she wanted my name to come first because she felt it was right for our future kids that their first last name would be their biological mother's.
That wasn't the first time she said out loud that children were a part of the picture she had of her future with me. In college, we maintained a long-distance relationship. Luckily, we were both on the East Coast. When she rejected a guy, cursed the hell out of him and told him that guys like him were the reason that she was gay, he punched her and she had to see a doctor. That is when we found out that she is infertile. She went through a rough patch then, but I was right there with her. We spent a lot of that summer talking and crying. And after a few months, she kissed me and said: "Good thing I'm gay. At least I have my woman to carry my babies."
I still am surprised that she wants children. She always struck me as the independent kind, the kind that is too impatient for children. She's also spent so much time being angry and a straight-up bitch. I thought she found them annoying, whiny, snotty, self-centered. When I confronted her with this view, she shrugged and said: "That's true, but Quinn... these are our babies we're talking about. They're going to kick major ass and they'll be the smartest kids in their class and shit. They'll be the coolest kids on the block with the hottest moms."
I hear the sound of dangling keys and Spanish swearing. I roll my eyes, unable to suppress a smile at my wife's antics. I am just about to get up and open the door for her when it opens. She drops her bag on the floor and walks over to me. I lick my lips at the mere sight. She just looks so good in those business suits, her jet-black hair pulled from her face with one simple pin. It's mandatory for her job in a PR consultancy firm. She grins at me and asks: "How is my favourite pregnant lawyer?"
Before I get a chance to answer, she leans down to kiss me with those full lips of her. After all these years, I still marvel at the feel of them. She rubs my stomach softly and deepens the kiss. "I am so in love with you, Quinn Fabray-Lopez," she whispers against my lips.
She puts her leg between mine and leans on it, now kissing my neck. She leans on one hand and feels me up with the other. She loves how extra sensitive my breasts are. I love it too. We have lots of things in common. Her thumb grazes my nipple and I tilt my head back. Her hand trails from my breast over my stomach to my inner thighs. She softly strokes me, nipping at my lips again.
"I'm the pregnant one. I should be the one crazy for sex all the time."
"It's called sympathy pregnancy, Q."
"Nah. You're just the same old horn dog you were when we were teenagers."
"You're my wife. Can you honestly blame me? Oh - before I forget, I brought you something."
She stands up and I instantly miss the contact of our bodies. She gets a thermos from my bag and walks over to me. She smiles as she explains. "I stopped by Tom's and had them fill this with coffee for you."
I clap my hands excitedly. One of the downsides of being pregnant is obviously the lack of caffeine. As soon as we decided to try to get pregnant, I looked up if I still could have coffee, worried because of the myth that pregnant women can't have alcohol, caffeine, crustaceans, etc. I was so happy when I read that I can drink coffee, as long as I don't overdo it. It's still a huge setback from my daily cup, though. I love it when Santana surprises me like this.
She gets cups, spoons, cream and sugar. She quickly changes into something more comfortable and then joins me on the couch, my legs resting in her lap. She gives me a foot massage. We talk about our days and I tell her I've been writing a little. Interest piqued, she demands to read it.
I hand her the laptop and look at her face as she reads it. "Oh God, Ms Stephens! She was SUCH a prude! I heard Mr Schue did get laid with her... well, it was a high school rumour." I see a lot of smiling, some tears she immediately sniffles away and also surprise. Once she's finished, she puts my laptop back on the table and grabs my feet. She gazes into my eyes intensely, then kisses my toes.
"I love you," she says after a while. "Lucy Quinn Fabray-Lopez, I motherfucking love you."
"I know," I smile. "And so do the boys."
She leans down until her mouth reaches my belly. Stage-whispering, she says: "You guys are pretty damn lucky. Your mommy is very pretty, very smart and she always wins her cases. She's also passionate and loving and caring and crazy and such a good person. Did I mention she's got the most amazing smile in the world? I could pretty much shag her all day!"
At first, I smile at her antics, then I slap her lightly on the head. "Santana!"
"What?" she looks up and me and shrugs. "Honesty is a very important value to instill on them. The sooner they're confronted with it, the better."
This is why she's so good at her job, she can always explain everything and make even the worst actions sound good.
"So," she says. "Do you remember what we did that day that you fell in love with me? While skipping government?"
>> next