Let's Get These Teen Hearts Beating Faster: A Collaboration Between Shipper_Swabbie and Quincer
A/N: This is a spec-fic inspired by our ideas about what we would make happen in "Furt" and "Sectionals," based on Sectionals spoilers. If you do not want to be spoiled, please come back and read later! It has been so much fun to work on this with Jillian (/~Shipper_Swabbie). She has Fichel fiction of her own, and I highly recommend you read them! Without further ado, the first chapter of our collab fic!
Finn Hudson was frustrated. He loved Rachel more than anything, but the more time he spent with her the crazier she was making him. He felt as though every time they made-out, he just couldn't get close enough to her. He wanted her everywhere, and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take.
Every time she walked way from one of their more intimate experiences, he marveled at her restraint. How could girls so that? Just walk away from something that felt so good? He was actually starting to lose his mind.
At least he knew he wasn't alone.
He and Sam were getting changed after a rigourous training session. Finn noticed Sam check his cell phone, promptly blush from ears to collarbone and rush back to the showers, muttering something about coach Beiste, a logger's axe and flannel Long-John's.
When Sam returned, he was fully clothed and rubbing at his face vigourously. Sam threw all of his personal effects into his locker slamming it with the kind of frustration Finn knew all too well.
So Finn just chuckled to himself, shaking his head while tightening his belt buckle.
"Was that your girlfriend?" Finn asked, routing for a clean shirt.
"Yup," Sam sighed, "Whether she means it or not, every thing she sends me is sexy. I'm losing it, man."
"So, did you try to change your Beiste thing?"
"Well, yeah, but nothing works as well. But I have to be more careful or she might go to Coach Sylvester again… I'm kinda weirded out now that Quinn goes to her coach about our make-out sessions."
"I know, man," Finn agreed, "I always wondered how much Sue knew about me when I dated Quinn …"
"Yeah … So how've you and Rachel been? Has she loosened up?" Sam asked with a straight face, then he started to chuckle. Soon, he was laughing hysterically at the unintended innuendo. Finn cracked up, too. It took a few minutes for their flaming cheeks and flaring boyish humor to ebb down.
"No, she hasn't … Loosened up"—another chuckle—"I wish … I mean, I swear Rachel's plotting to break me. Last night? While we were making out, she licked me from my collar bone to my ear. Then she grabbed my junk. Not a slight contact, like last time, a full-on grab."
"Holy crap, dude …"
"T-M-I?"
"Well, probably but .. Damn, I wish Quinn did even half that stuff."
"Yeah, I guess Rachel can really get into it. But, dude, it's torture. The way she turns me on, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I know we're gonna last; she does, too. We've talked about kids; we've even talked about how many kids—and Rachel wants them to be raised Jewish, and I want them to be Buckeye fans. We aren't ever breaking up, so I don't see the difference between now and when we're 25."
"That's crazy, man."
"I know! And she's not even a virgin, so it's not like she's saved herself."
"Really? Are you sure she wasn't, like, joking about the no-sex-till-25 thing?"
"I guess she could have been talking about kids at 25 …"
"Yeah… And she may be waiting for you to make a move. Girls like it when guys take charge, right?"
"Like … Like she's been giving me all these hints that have been going over my head all this time?"
Puck, who had been changing quietly just down the hall from them, poked his head out of his t-shirt and interrupted, "Are you kidding? She gets a power trip from being a tease. Chicks love stringing their whipped boyfriends along. Makes 'em feel better about themselves."
"I don't think Rachel would do that."
"Come on, Finn! She loves to take control of everything she can get her hands on. She's a midget tyrant!" Puck finished, stuffing his practice clothes into a gym bag and tossing it over his shoulder with ease, "Good luck, dudes!" Puck gave an exaggerated, mocking salute as he left the locker room.
Sam shrugged. "He might have a point, dude .. You're kinda whipped, and a girl like Rachel might take advantage of that."
Finn was confused. All this new information he hadn't thought about. Could Rachel really be giving him hints to take control? It couldn't be that she enjoyed having him like a puppet on a string … Could it?
Finn knew one thing; he had to know what was going on before he lost his mind.
Rachel Berry was frustrated. Finn was texting her again: "Hey! Just got outta football.. Wanna hang out before we practice 2day 4 tht song for mom's wedding sat?"
Yes. Yes, she did. She really wanted to hang out with her amazing, sexy, sweet boyfriend, but she knew how it would end. It would get hot and heavy and they would get this close to finally taking that step—and she would panic and force everything to a screeching halt.
She wished she was brave enough to give herself to Finn, but it was such a monumental event- she didn't want to rush it. Especially not with the boy she loves.
What if she did it wrong? What if she wasn't "good"? After what had happened with Jesse, how could she know Finn would feel the same way after?
Rachel bit her lip and shook her head. Glee was having a last minute rehearsal in under and hour. She could just wait to see him then.
"I have to finish my homework before Glee," She lied in the text back to Finn, "But I'll see you at 6! Maybe we can do something after ;)"
Rachel arrived at Glee practice 15 minutes early and was shocked to see that Brittany and Santana were already there.
She was shocked, but kind of relieved. Perhaps they could offer some unique insight to her sex conundrum? They were the resident experts.
"Good evening, ladies! What brings you to practice so early?" Rachel cheered, putting on her bravest smile.
"Ew," Brittany mumbled.
"Coach Sylvester, let us out of Cheerios practice early, so we decided to come here rather than going home for like, five seconds..."
"I was wondering if I could have a little girl chat with you two. You see, I've been thinking about sex a lot lately-"
"Berry, get it over with before I induce myself in a coma to avoid looking at you any longer." Santana hissed in response, crossing her arms over her chest impatiently.
"Just- Can you tell me what sex is like? Like, how long in a relationship before you start sex? And what does it do to said relationship?"
Santana indulged in a knowing smirk, "Oh, that's usually when the relationship ends."
Rachel sputtered slightly in response before Brittany continued, "It's like kindergarten."
"Wh-what?"
"She means boys only want what they can't have. Once you give it to him, he thinks he's the one in charge, and it's super irritating, so we take it back. You have nothing on him unless you cut him off. Look, a little boy doesn't pay any attention to a toy until he's told he can't have it. So, if little Timmy can't get his Choo-Choo, he'll do just about anything for it. That's when you milk him for all he's got."
Rachel chewed her bottom lip. She didn't want to be like that- she didn't want to be like Santana.
But even more? She didn't want to lose Finn. If she finally gave herself to him would he just leave her? Start taking advantage of her? She couldn't risk loosing what they had.
"Can we be done now?" Santana snarked, interrupting Rachel's musings, "I'm starting to get hives."
Thankfully, it wasn't long before the rest of the Club had entered the choir room, and practice was soon under way. It was much easier to keep her mind off things once she had a team to motivate. She dragged Finn and Kurt with her to the head of the room and got straight down to business.
"OK," Rachel announced once everyone else had settled, "As most of you know, Mr. Schuester is busy working on our set-list for sectionals, so we're going to do this like we did the mattress commercial. Kurt's in charge of the wedding on Saturday, and he put me in charge of this number. I know some of you may be withholding some resentment over the whole substitute incident, so I've made a point to include as many of us as possible in this performance. Finn and Kurt," she said, taking both their hands in her own for emphasis, "Want to make their parents' wedding day special, so I expect everyone to have this down perfectly. The song is Bruno Mars' 'Marry You'. Pair off everyone! Finn and I will be in front! Finn-baby, could you hand out the sheet music?"
Burt and Carole's wedding was on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. The Glee Club's performance was a huge success, and it gave the kids the extra publicity they needed, especially one week before sectionals. The rest of the ceremony and the wedding dinner that took place almost directly after had all gone off without a hitch, and just as the sun started to fade on the brisk autumn afternoon, the real party had started.
Kurt had arranged for a DJ to host most of the night. This was agreed by all of the Glee kids and gave them an opportunity to enjoy themselves without the pressure of entertaining an excitable (and slightly intoxicated) crowd for the entirety of the night.
It wasn't until the DJ had gone through most of the classics and moved on to more top 40 that the adult crowd had dissipated from the dance floor and started swarming at the snack tables.
Finn watched proudly as Rachel danced dorkily with the other Glee kids to the booming sounds of Lady GaGa and Taylor Swift remixes. He could honestly say he had been far too distracted by the party to have a serious discussion with Rachel about sex.
Besides, he knew it was a sensitive topic for girls, and he didn't want to ruin this night for her. She seemed to be having the most fun he's seen since they had met.
Finn was dragged out of his musings by an obnoxious metallic jingle directly in his ears.
He turned just as Kurt handed him a set of keys with a key chain that looked like a hamburger—and one for the center they were renting for the wedding reception. They were both bendy and extremely warm in his palm. Kurt had been carrying them in the pockets of his tight pants all night. Why that dude actually chose to wear such tight pants, Finn never understood.
That was an awesome plus about being a guy. No one expected you to wear tight clothes—like girls were. Actually, they discouraged it. But Kurt was expressing himself, he supposed. If the dude wanted to be comfortable, then, okay …
"We're starting to run out of veggies and fruits. Could you go to the kitchen downstairs and get more food? You might need an extra pair of hands." Kurt saw Finn's eyes go to Rachel, who was joke-dancing (the can-opener, the swim, stuff like that) with Mercedes and Mike. "Don't dally …." Kurt scoffed, arching an expertly shaped eye-brow with an air of skepticism.
Finn nodded curtly and slipped the keys into his pocket. He didn't know what "dally" meant, but he didn't feel like asking. Besides, the music was so loud, and he didn't want to bug Kurt more than he needed to be bothered.
Dude had organized and was practically running the whole event. Kurt was sure they didn't need to hire a caterer and that he could handle it. (In order to 'handle' it, Kurt ended up hovering over the table almost all night. Not much fun for him.)
As if she were reading his mind, Rachel began to make her way towards Finn. When she was close enough, he reached his hand out, and she took it. They left the ballroom through double doors, and though the music was still booming, it was muffled enough that Rachel spoke.
"So, what are we doing for Kurt?"
"How do you even know?"
"Kurt hasn't really talked to anyone unless it's related to the logistics of the wedding; plus, he handed you keys."
"Yeah," Finn said as he and Rachel went down the stairs, the GaGa music getting even more muffled. "These are the keys to the kitchen. He wants me to get more fruit and vegetables for the buffet."
They walked, hand-in-hand, down the drafty basement aisle until they reached a door which was marked "Kitchen." He let go of Rachel's hand to handle the keys. When he opened the door, they were enveloped by welcoming warm air. Rachel shut the door after them. They both felt around the wall until Rachel found the light switch. Finn groaned as the fluorescent lights gradually got brighter and brighter.
"Too much?" Rachel asked. And without an answer, she flicked off all lights but the one on the ceiling, just above the refrigerator.
They looked around and saw that the kitchen was divided by an island breakfast table. On the other side of the table, the floor was carpeted, and there was a couch, a TV, and a children's sized table.
Finn walked to the refrigerator and took out the huge tray of vegetables that was bought from the local grocery store that morning. He set them on the breakfast table where Rachel was leaning, serenely watching him. Then he took out the tray of fruits.
He took off the lid of the fruits, expecting all the fruit to pile on top of one another on the tray, but at least five grapes rolled off in different directions. Finn slammed the lid back on.
Rachel caught one grape just before it rolled off the tabletop. She collected the others in the same hand, walked to the sink to rinse the grapes with water. She walked over to lean on the counter top across from Finn again, and she smiled. Finn smiled, too.
"Heels always looked super uncomfortable," Finn mentioned randomly, "But I like that, since you're wearing them, I can…" And he gently kissed her. "I mean, it's easier .."
She let her one free hand linger down his face. He did the same, and she kissed his palm.
Then her smile sank to a secret smile.
"I can even do this," and she put up a grape to his face, and he ate it. He bit into it and juice splattered onto her nose. She creased her nose, making him chuckle.
"Well, it's easier," Finn said, grinning.
"No, this," Rachel corrected him. Then she pushed the remaining bit of grape into his mouth, and he devoured that—and her finger. He felt his heart skip a beat as she stared at him intensely while very slowly pulling her finger out of his mouth and sliding the wet finger over her lower lip. She dropped the rest of the grapes and slung her arms around his neck. He launched her up and placed her onto the breakfast table, where she wrapped her legs around Finn's middle.
They crushed their faces against one another in panting kisses. She rubbed up and down his back, and he sucked her earlobe, kissed her neck. As he kissed her neck, he could feel the undulations of her oncoming moan tickle his upper lip. Then she scooted to the very edge of the tabletop, took her legs down from around him, and led his hand beneath her skirt. He stopped kissing her—his mouth widening; hers widened, too—and she felt his hot breath puff into her mouth as she slipped off her panties and took his hand on a journey all across her bare thigh.
He chucked off his jacket, and she pulled his shirt from out of his pants and gripped his bare back with both her hands as they kissed. They couldn't get their lips close enough, so they pressed their bodies against one another. With incredible force for her little body, Rachel crushed one leg against his bare stomach and the other against his lower back, and he felt the wetness between her thighs on his hip.
He completely forgot the mailman. He moaned, and she moaned, too. She panted into his ear, and he thought he was seeing the world in inverted colors.
He then quickly rotated so that their chests were facing one another and he kissed her until she was limp on the tabletop. He grazed his left thumb on her lip to keep her from jumping up as he backed out of the kiss. With his right hand, he slid his pointer finger between her slit and found her clitoris with his thumb. Rachel gasped sharply, and Finn felt his consciousness taken away by Rachel's breathing, the wetness.
He felt completely outside of himself. He forgot he was standing. He was light-headed. He thought he might go crazy when she stiffened then rose her pelvis. He grew weak as her moaning got louder, and his hand loosened its hold on Rachel. Then she was free from his hand that had kept her down, and she sat up, her arms enveloping his neck. She clamped her legs around him again, and Finn bore them both to the carpeted part of the kitchen, just beyond the breakfast counter.
He had no idea how he got them down there so fast, him on top, without getting her hurt, but before he knew it, they were writhing on the plush carpet. His hands that had been gripping her thigh to carry her now stroked it and rose above, his fingers eeking just beyond the dress's waist up to the supple part beneath her breasts. She was like a rag doll beneath him as he kissed the valley between her breasts.
His whole body was shaking. He kissed fiercely, faster and faster. He loved that mole just peeking beneath the low-cut of her dress; he loved her throat that made sounds from heaven; he loved the lips that formed the words that could both break and mend his heart; he loved her velvety hair. Unconsciously, he was grinding against her—his whole body pressed against her. Yet he still wasn't close enough.
"Finn—"
Finn smothered her with kisses the moment her mouth opened. She pushed him away.
He only stopped when he realized he was getting nowhere with taking off his belt without looking.
"Finn!"
Finn stared at her, trembling.
"We can't do this." She told him, breathlessly.
He was in no state to speak, so he just stared at her more.
"We—we don't have any protection."
Finn slumped his shoulders then flopped down on his back beside her. He couldn't talk yet. He was still dizzy and inside-out and …. so hard it hurt. He fought off the wave of anger. She had a point, after all. He didn't want a Quinn 2.0.
But, God, Rachel would be a damn cute pregnant girl. Like a pink, polka-dotted balloon. Or Hello Kitty.
He had no idea where that thought came from, but it made him want to kiss her again. He rolled onto his side and grabbed her face, and his lips held strong. She didn't fight it; he felt the warm breath release from her nostrils and felt her trembling hands pull his hair.
With a loud suction sound, they parted from the kiss. His lips—among other body parts—were throbbing. He needed her so bad.
"Maybe I could take a quick visit to a 7 Eleven," Finn pleaded.
"This is too unplanned. Too brash."
Finn propped himself above her with his elbow. The look in her eyes freaked him out. It was a brown maelstrom in there—like that last Pirates movie that had confused him. Their hips were snug next to one another, and he tingled down there.
"I'll do it. I'll ask for money—and the car—go to 7 Eleven, and be back really quick. Please, Rachel." He groaned into her collarbone, then he kissed it. He heard a little moan out of Rachel—then a prompt, hard, push against his chest.
"Ow! Rach, that actually hurt."
"I said not now, Finn."
"When?" he whined. He was panting so hard from anger and desire he couldn't see straight.
"Someday," she said.
How could she be so calm? The only hint of her nerves was her fiddling with her necklace—his name. Fingering his name. Fingering Finn. Like how her finger had been in his mouth…
Oh, God …
Should have used the mailman …
"Rachel… I love you. I wanna be closer to you, that's all."
Rachel's eyes softened. "Really?
"Well, yeah," he hovered his face closer to hers. "We can't get closer if you keep pushing me away."
"Then I should probably tell you …. I'm a…."
"What?" Finn prompted.
" I'm-uhh … scared to go too fast with our relationship. I went too fast with Jesse and—well, you know."
"It can only make things more awesome with us. Jesse just wasn't right for you. I'm right for you. We fit perfectly together, Rachel," Finn stopped talking, all of a sudden. He still had more words to say, but he was drowning in her eyes.
"Rachel. You always say how honesty is what makes great relationships, and, well, I guess this is as good a time as ever," he paused again. He realized he was sweating a little. He had to spit it out now, or he knew he never would, "Rachel … I'm not a virgin. I did sleep with Santana-but I felt like crap after it."
Rachel caught her breath. As if it were his automatic response, Finn's hands flew to the sides of Rachel's face. He saw Rachel was pale and kept talking.
"It didn't mean anything. I spent the whole time wishing it was you. Rachel, I wish my first time had been with you. More than anything." Rachel's face was a little calmer, but her lower lip still sunk like when she was about to cry or diva out of Glee. His nose almost touching Rachel's, Finn held Rachel's face closer.
"Rachel…" he said, his voice weighted down by his despair—his desperation. He held her face so hard she couldn't move her head at all.
Finally, she spoke. "All right. Let's do it. Tomorrow night-that's Saturday, eight o'clock, at your house."