Hello, everyone!
So... this is me jumping on the bandwagon. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about The Finchel Trap, but I've had a pretty bad case of writer's block and I couldn't help but write this after the perfection of The First Time!
The title's taken from the song Come What May, from Moulin Rouge - I have an obsession with Finchel singing it at Nationals - look it up on youtube if you don't know it.
The room's dark when Rachel wakes up. The fire has died down, leaving only faint, orange embers glowing in the bottom of the grate. Her eyes flicker sleepily, glancing around what little of the room she can see without moving her head. They fall on the clock and she notices it's just a little after 4am.
Despite the cool November air and the absence of the burning fire, she's not cold. Her eyes slip closed again as she savours the feeling of the warmth emanating from the firm body beneath her, snuggling into it just a little more.
In the silence of the night, all the tiny, usually insignificant sounds are magnified; the clock ticking on the wall, the slight hissing of the cooling fireplace, the distant gurgling of the water pipes. Perhaps the loudest, and definitely the most important, of these sounds is the heartbeat pressed right against her ear. It thumps steadily, softly, perfectly in time with hers. A feeling of utter contentment washes over her as she allows herself to drift back to sleep in this warm, blissful embrace.
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When she wakes again, it's lighter and she can feel Finn's soft thumb rubbing a gentle circle on her midriff. She turns her head, pressing a soft kiss to his muscular chest.
Without opening her eyes, she moves her hand a fraction until it's comfortably on top of his, interlacing their fingers, just like they had been the previous night as they fell asleep together.
It's quiet, save for the sound of their synchronised breathing. His light snores sound so gentle and she can't help but raise her head and open her eyes to get a better look at his face. He looks so young and boyish, and so relaxed and calm compared to his face screwed up in anger and hurt during his heart-breaking outburst last night.
She leans forward, dropping soft kisses on his eyelids, then his cheeks, then his jawline, and then letting her lips linger on his mouth, breathing him in.
She pulls back suddenly, realising she has a little drool on her cheek. Oh, God, what if she drooled on him while she was asleep? She looks down at his chest quickly, moving the hand which isn't clasping his to wipe it, just in case. She runs her hand over his chest again, just because, feeling the hardness of his pectoral muscles, which seem to clench instinctively under her touch.
Her movement makes her properly aware, for the first time, of the ache in her lower body. She moves her leg experimentally, trying to get used to the new sensation. Far more important than this new ache, though, is why she's aching like this. Her mind flashes back to last night. She remembers the way their bodies moved together, their hands roaming over each other's bare skin, their lips coming back again and again for more hungry kisses. She remembers how gently he had handled her and how they had caressed each other's faces. She remembers his whispered concerns and her whispered encouragement and their moans of satisfaction as they finally became one, making their emotional tether physical.
A few tears had escaped her eyes at the pain and he'd kissed them away gently, squeezing her hand until she told him she was ready for him to move. And then they'd made love, beautifully, slowly moving in harmony.
"Good morning," Finn's voice sounds husky and soft with sleep, as he interrupts her thoughts, and it's very, very sexy.
Her eyes meet his, which are just flickering open.
"Morning, sleepyhead," she murmurs, unable to stop herself from capturing another kiss on his soft lips. He responds, kissing her lazily in return. When their mouths stop moving, she doesn't take hers away, she just lies there with her lips on his, both of them resting their faces against each other.
She'd never thought it would be possible to love this boy more than she already did, but this is complete and utter perfection and her heart feels like it's about to burst from the amount of love which is currently filling it up.
"I love you," she whispers against his lips.
"Good. I love you, too," he whispers back.
"I really, really love you, Finn. Last night was perfect," she sighs against his mouth, her eyes almost beginning to well up from the strength of the emotion inside her.
"Are you sure? I mean, I know you didn't…" he looks up at her, concerned.
"Yes," she assures him, kissing him again, "It was perfect because it was with you and you're my soulmate and I love you and nothing else matters. Besides, it's unusual for girls to – the first time, anyway."
"What about the second time?" Finn asks, the side of his mouth quirking up.
Rachel doesn't reply, she just smirks back at him, rolling off his body and sliding out from under the covers.
"Nice try, Hudson. Unfortunately, I'm just a little achy right now, not to mention disgustingly sweaty. How about some breakfast?"
She almost laughs at his slightly crestfallen expression and the way he stares after her as she heads out into his kitchen to find something to eat.
He ambles in a few minutes later, just as she's pouring the vegan batter into the waffle-maker. His hands wrap around her waist and she leans back into him as he stands over her, kissing her shoulder gently.
Her heart flutters as she realises what a perfect preview of their future this could be. She can imagine waking up next him every day and making breakfast together every day for the rest of their lives. She thinks maybe that should scare her, but it doesn't. It just feels absolutely right.
His kisses on her shoulder are growing more insistent and she's finding it harder and harder to ignore them as he re-ignites the fire inside her which had burned so strongly the night before. When his tongue pokes out to lick the juncture of her neck and shoulder, she finally gives in, turning around and leaning her head back to give him better access to her neck.
He's sucking so hard on her skin that she's certain she won't be able to wear anything but turtleneck sweaters for the next few weeks. He's given her a hickey on her neck once before and it had been a nightmare trying to cover it up with just a leotard on and her hair pulled back at ballet practice the next day. Since then, they've had a strict not-above-the-neckline policy. She blushes as she thinks of the places he must have left some the night before.
Right now, though, she couldn't care less where his marks end up, as long as he doesn't stop. Their mouths meet again in a hot kiss, their tongues slipping into each other's.
The burning smell reminds her that she's left their breakfast cooking, making her finally take her mouth off his. She's more than a little dizzy and breathless as she opens the waffle maker but the sight of their breakfast makes her giggle.
It's not long before they're both laughing loudly at the sight of the charred remains of their breakfast which are stuck to the bottom of it.
"Finn! Look what you made me do to our breakfast!" she giggles, poking his chest.
He almost looks a little smug at how well he managed to distract her from the task at hand. She rummages in the drawer next to him until she finds the utensil she's looking for, pressing it into his hand.
"Right, mister. You're going to clean up this mess and make us some new breakfast while I go and take a shower," she instructs him, her eyes still sparkling in amusement.
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Rachel follows the delicious smell into the kitchen, tying her damp hair in a loose ponytail and pulling down the hem of the football jersey she'd found to wear as she enters.
Finn's sitting at the island counter, two plates of steaming pancakes in front of him, covered in ice-cream and strawberries.
"They're vegan," he announces proudly when he sees her looking and she beams, jumping up onto the stool next to him and planting a light kiss on his cheek.
"They look delicious, thank you, Finn," she smiles. He seems to have finally noticed what she's wearing, seeing as his eyes keep glancing down at her bare thighs every few seconds. She just smirks and tucks into her breakfast, licking one of the strawberries before putting it in her mouth. She sees his gulp out of the corner of her eye.
She's halfway through her pancakes when he finally makes a move, picking up a strawberry off her plate and holding it out to her.
"Here, let me help you with that," he offers, his voice soft and seductive. She nibbles the end of it slowly, and then, without warning slips her mouth over the rest of it, taking his fingers into her mouth at the same time. His eyes widen and she feels his hand grip her thigh suddenly.
She leans back, slowly, letting his fingers slide back out of her mouth. It's only a fraction of a second before her lips are on his again and he tastes of strawberries, pancakes and love and she can't gte enough.
"Finn?" she whispers, "How do you feel about recreating last night's perfection?"
He just moans into their kiss, nodding and scooping her off the stool, carrying her back into the living room.
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A sense of déjà vu strikes her when her breathing finally evens out and she feels like she can open her eyes. Except, it's not quite déjà vu because he most definitely made her comethat time and it was absolutely incredible.
But the feeling of waking up on top of the boy she loves and the overwhelming love that she feels enveloping them is just as perfect as earlier. And if it's always going to be like this, she's looking forward to being able to wake up next to him every single day for the rest of forever. No matter what's in store for their future, she knows this feeling isn't something she's ever going to give up.
I hope it wasn't too similar to any of the other ones which have already been posted. Personally, I can't get enough of all of these morning after fics!
Please feel free to let me know what you thought! *hint hint*
Thanks for reading!