A/N – Okay, so this was a totally unplanned writing adventure with JannP, but what a blast writing it. This is total fluff that stemmed from one of our many many insane conversations and I hope you all enjoy!
A/N part 2 – So much fun. We know we're crazy. We hope you like our crazy though. Literally, this story was Jen's idea. Thanks for letting me play in your sandbox, darlin'! It's always fun and an adventure! Reviews feed our egos and keep us writing.
Song: Down On Me – Jeremih feat. 50 Cent
Disclaimer: We don't own much of anything, please don't sue us.
Keep You Running
He leans forward a little more, looking around the side of the house. Like, okay. The thing is, he's an easily noticeable person because he's so tall. And it doesn't help that, thanks to McKinley High athletics, two thirds of his wardrobe is red. But he's totally curious because since he got grounded for that thing last week with Kurt and the confetti in the Navigator, he's noticed a pattern here. Every day, he walks outside to see Rachel jog by right around the same time.
She claims running later in the afternoon burns more calories or something because it's hot. Well, so is she. And even if he can't usually get her inside to take advantage of how hot she is when she's hot, he can at least stare for a couple minutes when she jogs by.
He's really gotta get his phone back. He assumes there will be several messages on there waiting for him.
Anyway, so he's noticed this pattern. The mail dude always parks in the same spot. Like, seriously. The same fucking spot, every single day. And he doesn't know yet why he's so interested in the fact this matches up to the same time Rachel goes running. But for some reason, in his head, these two facts are like, the most important thing about July this year.
So today, he follows the mail guy. And like he already admitted to himself, it's not like he can be stealthy. He made sure to just wear a normal shirt at least, but then he tripped over that stupid bush the Murdocks have let grow out over the sidewalk and seriously…that thing is not safe. But he's lucky 'cause the mail guy is like almost a block ahead and not really paying attention. He keeps one eye on that dude and kinda stops to take a look inside.
He can't be the first person to notice there are no doors on a mail truck. And it's not huge inside. What exactly does he think he's doing?
He isn't sure, entirely. So instead of stepping inside that thing, which might be instant jail time or something, he doesn't know—he just keeps following the mail guy and he's trying to wonder why this is suddenly so important.
Well…it clicks together. The only thing he's been wanting since he and Rachel had sex, really, is pretty simple. (He's a simple guy after all.) He wants to do it again. Kurt isn't really receptive to the idea since his concept of privacy is limited anyway, and so they've had to get creative about the when and where.
He thinks this might be where the mail truck comes into play. He isn't sure if they could fit. But really, the first thing he has to find out is if this perfect little love shack will be left alone long enough for… okay. It's not like… he's had some practice and he can usually get her off pretty fast most of the time, and it doesn't hurt she's super hot and super into him so she gets turned on easy. But really…on the whole, he has a little bit of an ax to grind with the whole coming too fast thing and…
… this is what makes the mail truck perfect. It'll be like the perfect fuck you. He'll think about the mail every time he comes for a totally different reason from here on out. That would be…just…it would be really great. To not have that accident hanging over his head every time he lets loose.
So now he's at the end of the block and it took like 20 minutes or whatever ('cause apparently the mail guy is slow as hell before) he finally crosses the street to deliver the other side's mail. Finn kinda smiles, which is probably totally creepy since no one is around, but he can't help it. He'd have like 40 minutes to catch her during her jog (and she'd already be hot, sweaty and wearing next to nothing from running—total bonus), convince her this is a wicked cool idea (and thanks to all their practicing he totally knows how to do that now, too ) and make it to the truck. Yea, his plan is basically full-proof… or whatever. He makes sure to duck behind the Anderson's fence when the mailman passes by. He is so gonna ignore how much he feels like a creepy weirdo 'cause tomorrow could totally be an epic day.
He crawls between the front seats (still hoping to avoid prison but really, he now needs to know if this will work because he's getting kind of attached to the idea) and peeks in the back; he sees, besides some bags and crates, there is kinda a lot of room. It would have totally sucked if they were at the beginning of the mail route instead of the end, 'cause well, doing it on a bunch of magazines and shit would be kinda difficult, right? It would be like screwing on ice or whatever, totally slippery except while the ice was cold, the magazines might get stuck to his back or Rachel's knees and he is sure the neighbors would be pissed if pages were ripped or fucked up from sweat.
Plus, all the space makes him wonder what the mail guy does back there? It would be a cool place for naps or whatever cause being a mailman has to get totally boring. Come to think of it, he probably gave the mailman the excitement of a lifetime when he ran him over. Dude still should have totally been looking where he was going.
He climbs out of the truck just in time for Rachel to jog by.
"Babe," he whispers loudly, forgetting her jog is probably the only time she disregards possible ear damage by listening to iPod music through earbuds, and grabs her arm to pull her beside the house with him.
"Finn, what…what are you doing here?" She pants, her shock warring with her smile as she removes her headphones. He can't help thinking how she totally pants and gasps much the same way when they are doing it and she is so, so hot.
"Can't stay, but meet me here tomorrow. Same time, k?" Rachel stares at him wide eyed for a minute.
"Aren't you forgetting you are grounded? I mean seriously Finn, what the hell were you thinking filling the air vents with confetti? You had to know…" He shakes his head, grabs her face and crashes his lips on hers. She is just too loud and he totally needs a way to shut her up, but when she wraps her arms around his back and her entire body is pressing against his, he totally forgets why he started it. He just doesn't want to stop anyway.
Finally, he has to stop because breathing is, y'know, important as it turns out. It's not really his specialty when she's wrapped up in his arms and kissing him back and she's all hot and sweaty and wearing barely anything. Maybe he should talk to her about that because damn. He knows what he's thinking, and he might have to kiss his own ass because it's so dirty – and he's allowed 'cause she lets him do the dirty stuff to her. So he definitely doesn't want other guys to see her and think what he's thinking. Like, even if they're right, it's just wrong if you know what he means.
"I miss you like crazy," he says, and he's panting just like she is now. Her smile is sly.
"Well you probably should've thought of that sooner," she says, her voice low. He can hear the music pumping through her headphones and it distracts him a little.
"Whatcha listening to?" He asks, making a great show of pulling one up to his ear and brushing his fingertip along the side of her neck to catch the thin wire strand along the way.
Just put it down on me, put it down on me…Down, down on me, put it down on me….Don't throw it off the mound, show me how it's gonna be. Girl, all I really want is you down on me, put it down on me
She smirks as she looks at him and holy shit this song is dirty. She needs a good nooner as bad as he does at this point and she's totally right. He should've thought of this sooner because he doesn't just miss her, he needs her. He almost afraid it'll be like the time he wanted those peanut butter cookies when he was ten and when he finally got them, he ate so many he puked.
Can sex make you puke?
He's pretty sure it won't 'cause that would be the opposite of sexy and sex is… sexy.
Her hand on his arm stops his wandering thoughts and he's glad 'cause getting caught on the side of the house whispering with Rachel will probably be frowned upon and their neighbors are nosy.
"So what did you have in mind for tomorrow?" She asks softly. "Because I really miss you, but at the same time I don't want to be too risky because… well… let's just say I hope you learned your lesson; this has been an excruciating two week ordeal for me, too."
He smiles a little and he just…he loves her. Is that wrong? He lets his eyes wander over to the mail truck and the words tumble out of his mouth in a hurried mumble. She casts a subtle glance over her shoulder and then looks back him with wide eyes.
"A mail truck? Really? Do you honestly think this is the best way to confront your demons?" She asks. She's still close to him but she's toying with her earbuds and he knows she has to get moving or she'll start talking about target heart rate and … well, he doesn't want to think about that stuff 'til football camp next month. And he doesn't want to think about the football camp being in Illinois, either. Whatever—one thing at a time and the first thing he wants to do is the mail truck. Well… Rachel in the mail truck. Pretty much just Rachel whenever and wherever but starting with the mail truck.
"I think it's totally worth a shot at least," he says. She rolls her eyes and says something about his one-track mind before she stretches all the way up to kiss his cheek and the smiles and tugs the headphones back into her ears. She gives a cute little wave before she goes.
As she jogs ahead, he steps into the yard, his eyes still trained on her ass and, really, on all of her.
"Wait!" He calls. "Is that a yes?"
She's already gone, though. And he's just left wondering and hoping tomorrow will bring him some action in a mail truck. (And maybe just a little bit hoping they won't get arrested.)