Tastes Like
Another ficlet for the Puck/Rachel Drabble Meme. Prompt was strawberry lip gloss.
He is lying on his back, staring up at her ceiling. She is asleep next to him, curled away on her side. Every now and then, she will shift in her sleep, her legs brushing against his. He can still taste the remnants of her strawberry lip gloss mixed with the flavor of her skin. He is quickly growing used to the taste.
A fading sunbeam drifts through the window and his gaze turns to the clock. It's getting late and he feels like he should take this opportunity to get dressed and sneak out the window. It's what he should do, especially since her fathers are probably home by now, and they might check in on their baby girl. For a second, he thinks of another baby girl, but he quickly pushes the thought aside.
Despite being virtually trapped inside a cloud of cotton candy, he's comfortable. Her mattress is just the way he prefers it and her pillows smell like her shampoo with a chaser of his aftershave. The idea that he leaves a reminder of himself behind, it appeals to him. She's always on the go, her day a whirlwind of movement. He likes the idea when she finally stops, she'll think of him.
She rolls over, pinning his arm to the bed, her head settling on his shoulder. He's been with a lot of women, but this little midget seems to fit him the best. Even in Glee, they get paired together all the time for the dancing bits. They just always seemed to move in sync. He works his arm free, shifting her more squarely on his chest. When he succeeds, he plays a little with her hair, twirling a long strand around his finger.
There is a noise downstairs and he thinks again about untangling from her and disappearing. Surprisingly, her fathers didn't shoot him the first time she brought him home. He'd like to keep the streak unblemished and that means not letting them catch him in the sack with their daughter. He knows this.
His fingers are skating along her back, tracing her spine, dipping below the sheet to circle in the hollow before her amazing ass. She nuzzles him a little, her nails digging into his chest, and he knows she's on the verge of waking up. He's not sure he wants the quiet time to end. Once she's totally awake, she'll get dressed and start talking, and sometimes he just likes to look at her without having to concentrate on deciphering the flood of words.
He rubs small circles on her back, his palm tingling from the sensation of her skin. He knows from experience that this will buy him at least another ten minutes of sleepy girl. She throws an arm across his hips and snuggles closer, her legs now tangling with his. He swears she has the softest skin of any women he's ever touched. He wouldn't be surprised if she bathed in, like, honey or milk, in some bizarre beauty ritual. She's constantly doing weird shit now in preparation for the future.
The future. He finally moves, turning on his side. She makes a little grumpy noise about it, but he sticks another pillow under her head and she sighs sleepily. He looks at her face now, the way her lashes fan out on her cheeks, the way her lips are pursed a little, like she's scolding him in her sleep. He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer. He closes his eyes and listens to her slow breaths.
A flying pillow to the face awakens him.
"Ow, what the fuck?"
She is hopping into her skirt, glaring at him.
"My fathers are home! Get up and get dressed."
Slowly, he slides out of bed and finds his jeans. He steps in and tugs them up, lazily zipping them up. He doesn't miss the little looks she's shooting him as she frantically tries to make herself presentable. After tugging a brush through her hair, she hastily picks up her strawberry lip gloss and slicks some on, her lips becoming irresistibly shiny.
That's when he tackles her back onto the bed.
Right after that is when her fathers walk in.
She yells at him for what seems like days after they're finished sitting through the most awkward safe sex conversation ever. He just watches her mouth move, licking his own lips from time to time, chasing the taste of strawberry and her skin.
He is lying on his back, staring up at her ceiling. She is asleep next to him, curled away on her side. Every now and then, she will shift in her sleep, her legs brushing against his. He can still taste the remnants of her strawberry lip gloss mixed with the flavor of her skin. He is quickly growing used to the taste.
A fading sunbeam drifts through the window and his gaze turns to the clock. It's getting late and he feels like he should take this opportunity to get dressed and sneak out the window. It's what he should do, especially since her fathers are probably home by now, and they might check in on their baby girl. For a second, he thinks of another baby girl, but he quickly pushes the thought aside.
Despite being virtually trapped inside a cloud of cotton candy, he's comfortable. Her mattress is just the way he prefers it and her pillows smell like her shampoo with a chaser of his aftershave. The idea that he leaves a reminder of himself behind, it appeals to him. She's always on the go, her day a whirlwind of movement. He likes the idea when she finally stops, she'll think of him.
She rolls over, pinning his arm to the bed, her head settling on his shoulder. He's been with a lot of women, but this little midget seems to fit him the best. Even in Glee, they get paired together all the time for the dancing bits. They just always seemed to move in sync. He works his arm free, shifting her more squarely on his chest. When he succeeds, he plays a little with her hair, twirling a long strand around his finger.
There is a noise downstairs and he thinks again about untangling from her and disappearing. Surprisingly, her fathers didn't shoot him the first time she brought him home. He'd like to keep the streak unblemished and that means not letting them catch him in the sack with their daughter. He knows this.
His fingers are skating along her back, tracing her spine, dipping below the sheet to circle in the hollow before her amazing ass. She nuzzles him a little, her nails digging into his chest, and he knows she's on the verge of waking up. He's not sure he wants the quiet time to end. Once she's totally awake, she'll get dressed and start talking, and sometimes he just likes to look at her without having to concentrate on deciphering the flood of words.
He rubs small circles on her back, his palm tingling from the sensation of her skin. He knows from experience that this will buy him at least another ten minutes of sleepy girl. She throws an arm across his hips and snuggles closer, her legs now tangling with his. He swears she has the softest skin of any women he's ever touched. He wouldn't be surprised if she bathed in, like, honey or milk, in some bizarre beauty ritual. She's constantly doing weird shit now in preparation for the future.
The future. He finally moves, turning on his side. She makes a little grumpy noise about it, but he sticks another pillow under her head and she sighs sleepily. He looks at her face now, the way her lashes fan out on her cheeks, the way her lips are pursed a little, like she's scolding him in her sleep. He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer. He closes his eyes and listens to her slow breaths.
A flying pillow to the face awakens him.
"Ow, what the fuck?"
She is hopping into her skirt, glaring at him.
"My fathers are home! Get up and get dressed."
Slowly, he slides out of bed and finds his jeans. He steps in and tugs them up, lazily zipping them up. He doesn't miss the little looks she's shooting him as she frantically tries to make herself presentable. After tugging a brush through her hair, she hastily picks up her strawberry lip gloss and slicks some on, her lips becoming irresistibly shiny.
That's when he tackles her back onto the bed.
Right after that is when her fathers walk in.
She yells at him for what seems like days after they're finished sitting through the most awkward safe sex conversation ever. He just watches her mouth move, licking his own lips from time to time, chasing the taste of strawberry and her skin.