Author's note: This fic was prompted by my tumblr wife, angelffxmaniac, in which the prompt was "Faberry—Baseball." Hope you like it, BB. ;)

"Rachel, why are you watching the Indians?" Quinn asks upon finding her girlfriend watching the game on TV. Rachel didn't watch sports willingly, so Quinn was somewhat confused by this turn of events.

She looks up from her seat on the couch and replies, "Because baseball is a metaphor, and metaphors are important."

Quinn raises an eyebrow in response. "A metaphor for what?"

"The game of baseball is often used as a euphemistic metaphor for the degree of sexual intimacy achieved in intimate encounters," Rachel explains, causing Quinn's eyes to widen and a blush to spread across her cheeks—still a little uncomfortable talking about anything having to do with sex. "I simply wanted to make sure I had all my bases cover," she adds cheekily before turning her attention back to the game.

Quinn shakes her head as she sits down beside Rachel on the couch, trying to force the blush from her face. But before she even has a chance of doing that, her girlfriend's warm body shifts and presses against hers. Quinn can feel soulful brown eyes looking at her, so she turns her head to meet her girlfriend's smoldering gaze—causing her breath to catch in her throat.

"In fact," Rachel begins, a smirk playing at her lips as she moves to straddle Quinn's lap. She swallows thickly as her hands instinctively fall to Rachel's hips. "I wouldn't be opposed to exploring this metaphor more." She leans in then, brushing her lips against Quinn's ear and husks, "One base at a time."

Quinn shivers at the sensation of warm breath against her skin. Before she can even think of responding, Rachel's mouth is on hers. Her hands grip tightly onto slim hips as Rachel's tongue swipes against her lower lip, begging for entrance. Quinn slants her mouth against Rachel's as she parts her lips, allowing her to deepen their kiss.

Rachel buries her hands in blonde tresses as her tongue continues to move against Quinn's, and she melts at the contact—Rachel's kisses rendering her senseless. Rachel nips lightly at her lower lip, causing Quinn to gasp at the delicious mixture of pleasure and pain before returning Rachel's kiss with fervor.

Her breaths come out in sharp puffs through her nose against Rachel's cheek as she continues to sensually glide her tongue against Rachel's. Slender fingers play against the nape of her neck, and it takes all of Quinn's self control to keep it together. But that proves to be impossible—the teasing touch along her skin causes her to lose control. She lets out a soft groan as she draws her girlfriend's tongue into her mouth and sucks. Rachel moans into her mouth and tightens her hold on Quinn's hair.

"Carlos Santana takes first base, walking on four straight pitches out of the zone," Quinn vaguely registers the announcer's voice sounding from the television. Her hands slide up Rachel's back then, until they reach the back of her girlfriend's head—fingers gripping onto brown locks and drawing Rachel's head back, momentarily breaking their kiss.

They pant against each other's mouths, and Quinn swears she can feel Rachel smile against her lips. "First base," she breathes out before pressing her mouth to Quinn's once more.

They exchange a few more heated kisses before Rachel breaks away and begins to trail a path of hot open-mouthed kisses down Quinn's jaw and neck. She gasps as Rachel suckles on her pulse point, her fingers tightening ever so slightly in brunette tresses as she tries to draw Rachel closer to her. It feels so good—she feels so good—that Quinn hardly knows what to do with herself.

A small hand breaks away from it's maddening caress against the back of Quinn's neck and trails a path down her shoulder and to her side—fingers ghosting against the edge of her left breast.

Quinn's breath hitches at the contact, and Rachel smirks against her skin. Her touch grows bolder as fingers continue to move lower until they reach the hem of Quinn's shirt. Rachel slips her hand beneath the fabric, brushing against the smooth expanse of her bare stomach—causing Quinn's muscles to tighten as she sucks in a breath. Finally, Rachel's hand moves beneath her breast, fingertips teasing—making Quinn want more but not giving her what she needs.

"Rachel," she breathes out. "Rachel, please."

"Please what?" Rachel asks teasingly.

"... steals second," sounds from the TV, and Quinn swallows. "Touch me."

Rachel obliges, her right hand cupping Quinn's left breast—her thumb swiping across her nipple. "Not wearing a bra?" she asks, bringing her other hand down and slipping it beneath Quinn's shirt to play with her right breast.

"Didn't think I'd need one today," Quinn replies breathlessly, finding words difficult with the way her girlfriend is touching her.

Rachel pinches both of her nipples lightly. "Lift up your shirt."

Without hesitation, Quinn obeys, gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling the garment up and over her head, leaving herself on display for her girlfriend.

Rachel's eyes darken at the sight as she licks her lips.

"Hafner hits the ball to right field for a double, reaching second safely," the announcer voices excitedly through the TV.

Without warning, Rachel's mouth is on Quinn's right breast, licking around her nipple before finally latching on and suckling it lightly. Quinn whimpers in response as her fingers once again grip onto Rachel's head. She feels so good and all she wants is to be closer to her.

Her hands then slide down Rachel's shoulders before reaching around, dipping beneath her collarbone and into the top of her dress, gently cupping her girlfriend's bra-covered breasts. She rolls both nipples between her fingers and smirks at the gasp it elicits against her chest.

Sharp teeth nip at her right nipple then, and Quinn lets out a pained whimper as her own fingers tighten around Rachel's hardening buds. Her girlfriend's hot mouth moves onto her left breast, licking pale skin before latching onto her other nipple—suckling it before releasing it with a soft pop and blowing cool air across it.

Quinn gasps and quickly removes both hands from the top of her girlfriend's dress and trails them down along Rachel's side until she reaches the hem of her dress, which has ridden up sinfully high on her thighs. So high, she might as well be wearing only panties, Quinn thinks.

Her fingertips brush against the edge of her girlfriend's underwear before sliding up her taut stomach and reaching around Rachel's bare back, her fingers easily finding the clasp of her bra. She unhooks it with ease, before eagerly bringing her hands to Rachel's breasts.

Rachel gasps against her chest as her hands tighten their hold on her bare shoulders. Quinn bites down lightly on her lower lip, her arousal growing with every touch her girlfriend bestows on her.

"... runners on first and third." The announcer's words seem to spur Rachel on. Seconds later, her mouth is moving back up Quinn's body—pressing open-mouthed kisses along her sternum, collarbone, and neck—until she finally reaches her mouth—her tongue sliding between Quinn's lips and moving so sensually against hers, Quinn can't help but whimper as her toes curl.

Rachel groans softly as her hand slips between the band of Quinn's sweatpants, until she's between her legs, fingers rubbing against damp cotton.

Quinn gasps into Rachel's mouth before breaking their kiss and lowering her forehead to rest against a tanned shoulder. Rachel continues to move her fingers against Quinn's rapidly hardening clit, eliciting soft whimpers from her. So caught up in the pleasure Rachel is giving her, Quinn lets go of her girlfriend's breasts and moves her hands down and around to Rachel's backside, massaging, as her mouth moves to nip at the soft skin of the her neck.

Rachel then moves her hand beneath the cotton of Quinn's underwear. Quinn bites her lower lip before letting out a low moan at the feel of Rachel's fingers sliding through her wet folds. Her hips instinctively move in response to her girlfriend's touch, grinding against her hand.

"Ready to hit it out of the park, baby?" Rachel whispers hotly against her ear. If she hadn't been so incredibly turned on, Quinn would have rolled her eyes, but right now, it's the sexiest thing she's ever heard.

"Mmm, please, Rach, I need you," she whimpers as her hands shift up beneath Rachel's dress, gripping onto bare shoulders.

Rachel obliges and pushes two fingers inside, causing Quinn to let out a soft cry of pleasure. Rachel presses her lips beneath Quinn's jaw as she starts to move in and out of her tight channel. "You feel so good, Quinn," she breathes, warm breath cascading across her neck, and Quinn shudders. Her hips continue to move, meeting each thrust of Rachel's hand as she pants against Rachel's shoulder—tightening her hold on her girlfriend as her pleasure builds.

"More," she pants out. "I need more, Rach."

Rachel adds a third finger and puts more force into each thrust. It's almost too much, but it feels so, so good. Quinn knows it won't take much more until she's coming undone around Rachel's fingers. Just when she thought it couldn't feel any better, her girlfriend's thumb swipes against her clit, sending a bolt of pleasure through her.

"That ball is hit deep to center. At the track, at the wall—it's outta here! Home run!" is shouted, and the crowd goes wild.

Quinn clenches around Rachel's fingers, and her mouth falls open in a silent cry as her orgasm hits. Rachel's hand slows and rides out Quinn's orgasm, drawing out a few aftershocks. Quinn lets out a shuddering breath as her girlfriend slowly removes her fingers.

She smiles then, letting out a sigh of contentment as she lifts her head to meet Rachel's eyes. Rachel looks incredibly pleased with herself. "Now do you understand the importance of metaphors?"

Quinn smirks. "I'm not sure I got it that time. I might need you to show me again."

Rachel gazes at her with nothing short of unadulterated lust, fueling Quinn's desire to repay her for that amazing orgasm.

"First base?" she asks playfully, before leaning forward and capturing Rachel's mouth in a heated kiss, and realizing that baseball—metaphorically speaking—was truly her favorite pastime.