#fabedroom

Can it be…

Both?

Both is good.

One of the perks of buying a house is the many extra rooms, of course, affording Quinn the opportunity to have a full-sized office with space for multiple bookshelves for the first time and Rachel with the opportunity for an actual music room.  Up until this point, her songwriting has been done with a serviceable electronic keyboard that can be easily stored in a closet, audio software on her laptop, and Quinn’s borrowed office whenever she needed a little privacy. Now she gets to have a whole, entire room - and one little electronic keyboard will just not cut it. She obviously needs a real piano for both function and aesthetics. 

So...

“Imagine how elegant a grand piano will look here,” Rachel muses, doing a little spin in the center of the empty room she’s claimed for herself.  

The house is officially theirs as of eleven forty-eight this morning when they’d signed the last paper at the closing. Now they only need to fill it with all of their possessions and all the new possessions that they’ve always wanted but could never cram into their tiny Manhattan apartments. 

Quinn raises a singular eyebrow at her wife’s antics. “Rach, sweetie, I know this room looks big now, but there’s no way we’re fitting a grand piano in here along with your awards case and the keyboard and that pink guitar your dads still have packed away in their closet for you.”

The grin disappears from Rachel’s face. “A baby grand then,” she amends on the fly. “There are a few high quality ones out there.” And with what they’d just spent on this house and what they’ll still be spending for a car that they now need, it's probably best not to sink the full cost of a second summer house into one piano. 

“There are high quality uprights too,” Quinn points out with a critical gaze roaming around the room in obvious contemplation of its dimensions.  

Pursing her lips in determination, Rachel steps closer to Quinn with a sway of her hips and slips her arms around her waist. “Quinn, baby,” she purrs, batting her eyelashes. “An upright isn’t nearly…sturdy enough for our needs.”

Hazel eyes meet hers in mild bemusement. ”Why would…?” she begins but abruptly bites off her own question, eyes suddenly sparkling with understanding. 

A slow, wolfish grin slants across her mouth, and Rachel knows that her wife is remembering a very particular fantasy that she’d once related to Rachel - one that Rachel had really had no way to safely fulfill in a way that wouldn't potentially get them arrested for public indecency. “Yes, sturdy would be better…for reasons.” 

Rachel hums in agreement, hands drifting lower to the curve of Quinn’s ass. “I knew you’d see it my way.” 

“You know, Teresa did tell us there was no hurry to pick up the girls today,” Quinn reminds her in that raspy, suggestive tone that never fails to resonate right down Rachel’s spine.  “We should take this time to review all of your many needs for this room.” Soft, skilled fingertips sneak a little farther underneath Rachel’s blouse with every word. 

Rachel closes her eyes on a sigh, leaning into her wife’s warm body. “If we were ten years younger, I’d let you have me on this hardwood floor right here and now.” 

Quinn chuckles huskily, her lips already sliding down to Rachel’s pulse point. “Oh sweetheart, don’t you know by now how creative I can be?” 

Heat sizzles through Rachel’s body when that talented mouth connects to her skin with intent, and she tips her head back, giving in just enough - just for a moment - to indulge in the impossible fantasy. Quinn takes the invitation without any hesitation, and before Rachel even realizes what’s happening, her back is hitting the nearest wall and her very professional black skirt is unzipped.  

“Quinn,” she gasps out in surprise, eyes flying open. 

“We should test out how sturdy this wall is, don’t you think?” Quinn asks, far from innocently. One palm is flat against that wall while the fingertips of her other are already dancing under the loose waistband of Rachel’s skirt. “It’s where your awards case is going after all.” 

And it is, of course. Quinn knows her too well. It’s the best place for the light of the window to reflect off her many statuettes in a way that will make them positively sparkle. 

Rachel’s eyes dart to that same open window, and then to the still open door of the otherwise empty room, and then she remembers that this is their house and they’re the only ones with the keys to the front door (that they did remember to lock behind them) and their precious, precocious daughters are safe in Manhattan, and Quinn is already doing very pleasant things to her body that she really doesn’t have any desire to put a stop to. 

“You’d better not throw out your back,” she warns, but her body is already giving in - hands pulling Quinn closer and thighs parting enough to give her more room to work. 

Quinn laughs, teasing, “So sexy in your old age, Mrs. Fabray.”  

Rachel’s fingers twist into blonde locks. “I’m merely protecting a long term investment, Quinn.” Her lips curve into an impish grin. “I still need you to help me shop for that piano.”  Quinn’s fingers sink deeper in blissful retaliation, and Rachel moans breathlessly. “Among other things.” 

“I’ll show you other things.” 

Now you've gone and given yourself a notorious Anon designation, dear InjuryDuringSexAnon.

Well, she had a lot of fantasies, so I’d say the real thing didn’t exactly match up to all of them–some of them had involved very specific high school and college settings–but the real thing is so much better because it’s real. 

Oh, I imagine Callie’s curious nature had her snooping playing in drawers and closets in her mamas’ room that she really shouldn’t have been in. Can’t you just see her dancing around the apartment with that infamous feather wand, pretending to be Tinker Bell, and Rachel and Quinn both choking on their coffee when they see her? 

“Calliope. Where did you get that?”

“In the drawer, Mommy. With the blue plastic cucumber. How come you and Mama have weird plastic vegetables?”

Both. Definitely both. 

I imagine that Rachel probably checked out one or two (of the lesbian variety) before she had sex with Quinn for the first time--purely for educational purposes. She had to research lesbian sex somehow after all. :P

Lol. I feel that Rachel--even after years of being pranked--probably wouldn’t be quite committed enough to her revenge to interrupt an orgasm. ;)

Also--her sex-addled brain likely wouldn’t be functioning at the highest level required to get that timing just right. :P