fic: she says she won't get burned again
May. 28th, 2011 05:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: she says she won't get burned again
Series: Glee
Character/Pairing: Quinn/Rachel, Kurt/Finn Mentions of past canon pairings.
Word count: 1121
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After the fallout of the love triangle, Quinn and Rachel get drunk in Kurt's basement.
Word count: 1124
Author's note: any/any femmeslash based on Liza and Louise by NoFX.
This is a speed challenge, so no time for betaing. Sorry for any mistakes I missed.
The basement really does look like an old west whorehouse, but a classy one, at least. Kurt may look like he could audition for an indie re-imagining of The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas, but he pulls it off. Somehow.
She lifts the imported-from-Milan wine glass to her lips. If she breaks this, Kurt will make wallpaper out of her hide, but it's still a sweet gesture for him to get his finest glassware out.
They're almost a matching pair, her and Quinn. She looks ironically like a catholic schoolgirl with her plaid skirt and white dress shirt with short sleeves buttoned down to the third button, and Quinn looks like she goes in for every Mass in her pink babydoll shirt and skirt ensemble. Of course, she's Jewish and Quinn is some form of Glenn Beck worshiping protestant, but that's beside the point.
"I sincerely hope Finn becomes nothing higher than an attendant at a simple gas station. Meanwhile, I will be on Broadway. As soon I get past these few setbacks which I find are making me grow as an artist," Rachel says.
"He said I wasn't 'The One'. What does that even mean?" Quinn says.
How long had Rachel thought, dreamed and planned to be Finn's only one? She doesn't tell Quinn this, though; it doesn't matter, Finn isn't that anymore.
"Finn is clumsy and often charmingly clueless, but he isn't that bad," Kurt says. He's come in with more alcohol. "I made you ladies another round of Shirley Temples."
Both Quinn and her reach out for them like they might not survive the night without more alcohol. A lot more alcohol.
"You're just saying that because you're sleeping with him," Rachel says.
Kurt shrugs. He's got that smug, I Just Got Some look. If he wasn't in charge of the alcohol right now, and she wasn't quite drunk, she'd have some choice words for him. Their friendship opens up to an entirely brutal honesty–Kurt will even tell her if her butt looks fat in those pants.
"Well, he can make some very dumb choices, but he always makes up for it later," Kurt says.
He's right in the middle of the point where love makes him do very stupid things. Rachel thinks she'll have a little talk with him later about this when she isn't well on her way to being smashed. She should talk to Finn, too. They'll be friends when this is over. They always are. But right now, all she wants to do is get drunk and not remember that when Rachel and Quinn demanded he make a choice, he chose Kurt instead.
"If you'd seen Blaine again, you'd be right here ranting with us," Quinn says, giving him a slight, tipsy glare.
"His name is banned from conversation, remember?" Kurt says, his voice becoming very tight.
"Oh, I remember," Quinn says. "Well Blaine Finn Hudson. Blaine him all the way to Blaining Blaine."
Kurt's cheek twitches. "I'll get started on the new round because obviously what you girls need is more alcohol."
"And make it snappy!" Quinn yells back. Her speech is already slurring. They both sip their alcohol and laugh.
"I think what I need is to focus on myself. If the relationships with Finn, Puck and Jesse have taught me anything, it's that teenage boys are immature and that my dreams should come first. Then, when I am a star on Broadway, I will be able to find my true equal."
"All I heard was me-me-me-me-blahblahblah-me," Quinn says.
"I could play Mimi on Rent, though I think Maureen is more of a role that fits my unique talents," Rachel says.
"You just missed the point entirely. As usual," Quinn slurrs.
The wine glass is empty now. Quinn looks down like she's confused to the fact that there isn't more.
"I think you're drunk enough already," Rachel says. She gently pries the glassware away, but finds her other hand stuck in Quinn's grasp.
"He came two seconds in," Quinn says.
"Three seconds," Rachel replies flatly.
Rachel's glass spills, but thankfully, the glass doesn't break. And suddenly it's hilarious, the whole situation is hilarious. Here she is sitting with her greatest foe, getting drunk while one of her closest friends probably is blowing the man she thought as her equal, the partner to the duet of her life.
"You know, I should've done this ages ago," Quinn says.
"Done what?" Rachel begins to ask, but it's cut off because then Quinn is making use of the tangle of their hands caught together and kissing her. It isn't like kissing Puck, Finn or Jesse. She can taste cherry lipgloss, and the Shirley Temple. It's very soft, and Quinn is a surprisingly good kissing. She holds on tight because she isn't about to let Quinn get the better of her in this. She runs her hands through Quinn's soft, blond hair and feels a shock as Quinn bites her lower lip. The kiss is cut short to the clearing of a throat.
"Perhaps I should come at a better time?" Kurt says sardonically. But his slight humor is all lost when he sees the spilled Shirley Temple. He points an accusing finger at them.
"That carpet was imported!" Kurt says shrilly. His glare could probably melt steel. It's a funny thought.
"Out," he orders.
And they're laughing and tipsy as they flee the Hudson-Hummel house, still holding hands. The cold outside is a shock to their bare arms, but not enough to wrest them from their drunkenness. They kiss on the corner outside Rachel's house and it's just as sweet and wonderful and new as the first time.
(And when this night is over, the next night and the next night, Quinn doesn't act like this never happened, but decides to make their own little secret No Finn Hudson club. Soon enough, they're barely talking about him at all because soon they find better things to do with their lips.)
Series: Glee
Character/Pairing: Quinn/Rachel, Kurt/Finn Mentions of past canon pairings.
Word count: 1121
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After the fallout of the love triangle, Quinn and Rachel get drunk in Kurt's basement.
Word count: 1124
Author's note: any/any femmeslash based on Liza and Louise by NoFX.
This is a speed challenge, so no time for betaing. Sorry for any mistakes I missed.
The basement really does look like an old west whorehouse, but a classy one, at least. Kurt may look like he could audition for an indie re-imagining of The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas, but he pulls it off. Somehow.
She lifts the imported-from-Milan wine glass to her lips. If she breaks this, Kurt will make wallpaper out of her hide, but it's still a sweet gesture for him to get his finest glassware out.
They're almost a matching pair, her and Quinn. She looks ironically like a catholic schoolgirl with her plaid skirt and white dress shirt with short sleeves buttoned down to the third button, and Quinn looks like she goes in for every Mass in her pink babydoll shirt and skirt ensemble. Of course, she's Jewish and Quinn is some form of Glenn Beck worshiping protestant, but that's beside the point.
"I sincerely hope Finn becomes nothing higher than an attendant at a simple gas station. Meanwhile, I will be on Broadway. As soon I get past these few setbacks which I find are making me grow as an artist," Rachel says.
"He said I wasn't 'The One'. What does that even mean?" Quinn says.
How long had Rachel thought, dreamed and planned to be Finn's only one? She doesn't tell Quinn this, though; it doesn't matter, Finn isn't that anymore.
"Finn is clumsy and often charmingly clueless, but he isn't that bad," Kurt says. He's come in with more alcohol. "I made you ladies another round of Shirley Temples."
Both Quinn and her reach out for them like they might not survive the night without more alcohol. A lot more alcohol.
"You're just saying that because you're sleeping with him," Rachel says.
Kurt shrugs. He's got that smug, I Just Got Some look. If he wasn't in charge of the alcohol right now, and she wasn't quite drunk, she'd have some choice words for him. Their friendship opens up to an entirely brutal honesty–Kurt will even tell her if her butt looks fat in those pants.
"Well, he can make some very dumb choices, but he always makes up for it later," Kurt says.
He's right in the middle of the point where love makes him do very stupid things. Rachel thinks she'll have a little talk with him later about this when she isn't well on her way to being smashed. She should talk to Finn, too. They'll be friends when this is over. They always are. But right now, all she wants to do is get drunk and not remember that when Rachel and Quinn demanded he make a choice, he chose Kurt instead.
"If you'd seen Blaine again, you'd be right here ranting with us," Quinn says, giving him a slight, tipsy glare.
"His name is banned from conversation, remember?" Kurt says, his voice becoming very tight.
"Oh, I remember," Quinn says. "Well Blaine Finn Hudson. Blaine him all the way to Blaining Blaine."
Kurt's cheek twitches. "I'll get started on the new round because obviously what you girls need is more alcohol."
"And make it snappy!" Quinn yells back. Her speech is already slurring. They both sip their alcohol and laugh.
"I think what I need is to focus on myself. If the relationships with Finn, Puck and Jesse have taught me anything, it's that teenage boys are immature and that my dreams should come first. Then, when I am a star on Broadway, I will be able to find my true equal."
"All I heard was me-me-me-me-blahblahblah-me," Quinn says.
"I could play Mimi on Rent, though I think Maureen is more of a role that fits my unique talents," Rachel says.
"You just missed the point entirely. As usual," Quinn slurrs.
The wine glass is empty now. Quinn looks down like she's confused to the fact that there isn't more.
"I think you're drunk enough already," Rachel says. She gently pries the glassware away, but finds her other hand stuck in Quinn's grasp.
"He came two seconds in," Quinn says.
"Three seconds," Rachel replies flatly.
Rachel's glass spills, but thankfully, the glass doesn't break. And suddenly it's hilarious, the whole situation is hilarious. Here she is sitting with her greatest foe, getting drunk while one of her closest friends probably is blowing the man she thought as her equal, the partner to the duet of her life.
"You know, I should've done this ages ago," Quinn says.
"Done what?" Rachel begins to ask, but it's cut off because then Quinn is making use of the tangle of their hands caught together and kissing her. It isn't like kissing Puck, Finn or Jesse. She can taste cherry lipgloss, and the Shirley Temple. It's very soft, and Quinn is a surprisingly good kissing. She holds on tight because she isn't about to let Quinn get the better of her in this. She runs her hands through Quinn's soft, blond hair and feels a shock as Quinn bites her lower lip. The kiss is cut short to the clearing of a throat.
"Perhaps I should come at a better time?" Kurt says sardonically. But his slight humor is all lost when he sees the spilled Shirley Temple. He points an accusing finger at them.
"That carpet was imported!" Kurt says shrilly. His glare could probably melt steel. It's a funny thought.
"Out," he orders.
And they're laughing and tipsy as they flee the Hudson-Hummel house, still holding hands. The cold outside is a shock to their bare arms, but not enough to wrest them from their drunkenness. They kiss on the corner outside Rachel's house and it's just as sweet and wonderful and new as the first time.
(And when this night is over, the next night and the next night, Quinn doesn't act like this never happened, but decides to make their own little secret No Finn Hudson club. Soon enough, they're barely talking about him at all because soon they find better things to do with their lips.)
